Two Million Page Views! Time to Celebrate with Your Sissy!

In celebration of our TWO MILLIONTH page view, I want all you Sissy Masters and Mistresses to buy your Sissy a pretty new outfit and show him off!   Use this wonderful milestone as an opportunity to display your Sissy in public in his finest, most feminine attire.  Help us educate the world on the wonders of our forced fem creations while publicly humiliating your precious little Sissy.

Sissy Pinkie's Master bought him a very special new outfit for the occassion.  Doesn't this darling little sissy look soooo sweet.  His soft white blouse with the contrasting collar.  The acres of chiffon in his little black skirt. And the cute beret and the pink purse are fantastic.  Come now, Sissy Pinkie, you should be smiling because you look so pretty in your new outfit!

But my favorite part is his shoes!  The open toes platform pumps and the lacey little anklets.  Simply perfect!  

Master is taking Sissy Pinkie out to dinner later with another Master and his Sissy.  Sort of a Sissy double date.  The restaurant will be very busy -- they will probably have to wait at the crowded bar before they are seated -- and the Sissies will have to endure lots of stares and comments from the other diners.  But first the two Masters and their Sissies are going to do some shopping at the mall.  The Masters want to show off their Sissies in their new outfits.  I'm sure the Masters will insist that their Sissies hold hands with each other as they traverse the mall.  The mall will be very crowded this afternoon and these Sissies will certainly get lots of attention.

To all you sweet Sissies and all you demanding Masters and Mistresses, thank you for reading these stories and for bringing us to two million page views.  

Remember:  Sissies are required to leave comments!  Do not disobey me!  Masters and Mistresses are kindly encouraged to share comments -- your thoughts and experiences are very important to all of us.  

Always seeking Sissy perfection,
Mistress Linda Trainer

A Sweet Sissy Escort

This is a picture of me taken yesterday.  I am an escort and I work the promenade near the fancy hotels downtown.  My real name is Robert.  But when I'm working, everyone knows me as Rebecca.

Ever since my dad ran out on us, things have been really tough for Mother and me.  Mother isn't very healthy and she can't work.  Then a few months ago the bill collectors started calling and the bank said that they were going to foreclose on the house. That's when Mother told me that she needed my help.

"Mother!" I cried, "I don't want to do that!  How can you even suggest that I do that?!?"

"But Robby," Mother replied, "It's the only way.  If you don't do this, we won't have any money at all and we'll be homeless.  And without money for my medicine...I won't live very long."


When she said that I gave in. She explained that she had seen an ad on Craig's List. There was a man named "Mr. Pearl" who was looking for "girls to entertain successful businessmen."

"But Mother," I shrieked. "I'm not a girl!"

"Well, of course not.  But you are rather...girly. I mean look at you.  Look how skinny and delicate you are. Anyway, when I described you to Mr. Pearl, he sounded very interested in  meeting you."

I was horrified and ashamed by everything she said. But I agreed to meet Mr. Pearl if it would help her.

Mr. Pearl was indeed very interested in me. He said that until I came along, he only had real girls working for him. He thought that he would find MANY clients who were interested in me since I offered something a "little different." 



Mr. Pearl and some of his girls helped get me started. They showed me how to use make-up and gave me clothes that would make me look sexy and get noticed. They taught me about all the different sex things that clients would want to do to me. I started crying at one point when someone explained about "double penetration." I didn't believe half the things they told me were true -- until I started working.

That was two months ago. Of course it was frightening and disgusting at first. But I have sort of gotten used to it and I'm earning a lot of money to help Mother.

Since then I have been working the promenade five nights a week.  I walk around, wiggling my ass and trying to attract the attention of the men who are out looking for some action.  Even though I am dressed like a sexy girl, because of my short hair most men figure out that I'm a sissy whore. While most guys are looking to be with a real girl, a lot of guys are really into doing it with sissies like me. 

On a good night I might have five or six "dates."  Most of my clients are businessmen in town for conventions.  Those aren't so bad because the businessmen are mostly pretty polite and we can go up to their hotel rooms to do it.  But some men are rough and mean.  And sometimes I have to do it with men in the backseats of their cars or in the public bathroom in the park.  The worst are the bachelor parties when I have to do a bunch of guys at the same time.  I get paid extra but I really don't like it.

Last night was horrible.  My last client -- number five for the night -- was insane.  He choked me and slapped me hard about a hundred times while I was blowing him -- I thought I was I going to die.  When I got home at 4:00 in the morning I was going to tell Mother that I couldn't do this any longer.  But before I could say anything, Mother told me that her new medicine was much more expensive.  She told me, as if it was good news, that Mr. Pearl had agreed to let me work seven nights a week and days too!  I cried myself to sleep knowing that I would be forever trapped as a sissy whore.  

The Sissy Debutante Ball

Mother had been dressing her son Jimmy up as "Ginger" for years.  At first Jimmy had resisted but his mother was very strong-willed and Jimmy was weak.  Over time, Jimmy stopped fighting his feminization and accepted what his mother was doing to him.

"I had always wanted to have a daughter," Mother told him a million times. "But unfortunately you were born a boy.  But just because you were born a boy doesn't mean I can't make you into my daughter." 

So ever since he was a little boy, Jimmy spent most afternoons -- and every weekend -- dressed as Ginger. And while wearing his pretty party dresses and nightgowns, Ginger and his Mother would spend countless hours doing things that mothers and daughters do.  Mother taught Ginger how to do his make-up and his hair and his nails.  They would do chores around the house like cooking and cleaning and ironing.  At night they often watch chick-flicks together while wearing their pretty night gowns.

So Ginger was brought up to be a perfect little Sissy.  But Ginger was growing up and tonight they would celebrate the lovely Sissy lady that Ginger had become.  Tonight was the Sissy Debutante Ball!

Tonight, nearly fifty Sissies, aged 18 to 20, and their Mothers would celebrate the long and sometimes difficult journey of raising a son to be a Sissy.  Mothers from all over the country brought their lovely Sissy darlings to this lavish affair at a posh hotel in New York City.  

Ginger and his Mother looked heavenly in their coordinated, custom-made outfits.  Mother wore a tailored suit of beautiful golden silk jacquard. Ginger wore a long gown -- made of the same gold silk jacquard as her mother.  Ginger's gown made him look sweet and sexy at the same time. Ginger and his mother had spent most of the aternoon at the beauty salon. Their hair and make-up were perfect.

Even though he looked very beautiful, Sissy Ginger was so nervous as he and his mother rode the evevator down from their hotel room to the ballroom below.  Sissy Ginger didn't know what to expect. 


They made their entrance when the Master of Ceremonies announced their names over the speaker: "Presenting Sissy Ginger and his Mother, Lady Annette!"  The other guests clapped as Ginger and his Mother entered the room.  Ginger was quite stunned by the applause and by the flashes of cameras capturing his big entrance. They found their seats, Lady Annette at one of the Mothers' tables and Ginger at one of the Sissies' tables.

As Ginger introduced himself to the other Sissies, he noticed there were several other tables in the ballroom that were occupied by men. Ginger asked one of the other Sissies who the men were.

"Don't you know?" answered one the other Sissies with surprise.  "After dinner is finished and the announcements are done, the Mothers will all leave and go to another room for the rest of the evening.  That's when the men are free to talk to us and dance with us and..."

"And WHAT?" Ginger asked, somewhat panicked.

"Well, they can ask us to come up to their rooms with them, of course.  And you are not allowed to refuse.  That is all part of the Sissy Debutante experience.  Tonight we become real Sissy Ladies with the Gentlemen that pick us.  Are you saying that your Mother never explained this to you?"
Poor Sissy Ginger.  He nearly fainted when he heard this.  Of course Mother had never told him about all this.  He would have been too terrified to even come here tonight.  

Tears started to well up in poor Ginger's eyes.  "Here, take this," said one Sissy offering Ginger a Xanax and a glass of champagne.  "Just relax and remember that this is what your Mother wants for you.  You need to be brave and do what your Mother expects you to do."

The other Sissy was right, thought Ginger as he downed the pill and the champagne in a single gulp.  "May I have some more champagne?" asked Ginger trying to prepare himself for the frightening evening ahead.  "A lot more."

Spring Break Sissy

When I told my parents that I was going to Florida for spring break, they were really worried.  They pictured me hanging out at wild, drunken parties and stuff like that.

But actually, my spring break is very different -- but my parents don't need to know that. 

You see, I am spending the entire week as Professor Wilson's sissy!


Here's a photo of me in the hot tub with my Professor and Master.

It all started last fall when I was taking Professor Wilson's Human Sexuality class.  I went to see him during his office hours one afternoon because I needed help understanding an assignment.  He closed the door to his office after I sat down.  Before I could even ask a single question, Professor Wilson asked me, "You're a sissy, aren't you?"

I was shocked and scared by his question.  The truth is that I am a closeted cross-dresser, often having fantasies of submitting myself to be feminized and controled by a dominant man or woman.  But this was my secret.  I had never told anyone this.  How could Professor Wilson possibly know?

"I asked you a question, sissy!" he shouted.  "Don't deny it.  I know what you are.  I can tell.  It's my expertise, after all.  Now I am going to ask you again.  Are you a sissy?"

I lowered my eyes to the floor, and softly answered, "Yes," unable to resist the Professor's command.

"I knew it!" he exclaimed with a self-satisfied smile.  "Well from now on you are going to be MY sissy.  That means you will do whatever I tell you to do.  You will submit to me in all ways.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," I meekly responded.  Professor Wilson smiled again.

I now visit Professor Wilson at his home every evening and every weekend.   When we are together, he is not nice to me at all.  As I walk in the door, he instructs me on how I should dress for the evening.   I prepare myself as quickly as possible -- make-up, lingerie, a dress, stockings, heels -- the works.  He then proceeds to order me around for the next few hours.  This usually includes cleaning his house, doing his laundry and making his dinner.   If I do anything that displeases him, he throws me over his knee for a harsh spanking.  

When my chores are done and he has finished eating, he has sex with me.  He often orders me to bend over the back of the couch so he can take me from behind.  If there is a big game on TV, he makes me suck on his cock while he watches the game.  Then after he cums and I have cleaned up the mess, he orders me to get out.

My Professor/Master has helped me to understand that, as his sissy, I exist for only one reason -- to serve and please my Master -- and that my feelings have no importance.  I am just an object for him to use for his pleasure.   

Now it is Spring Break and Professor Wilson has arranged for a perfect Master/Sissy vacation.  All year I have growing my hair out and Master has kept me on a strict diet so that I would look extra girlie for our trip.  He rented a beautiful condo that has a view of the Intercoastal Waterway, a big deck and a hot tub.  He packed several pretty outfits for me to wear, lots of sexy lingerie and even two bikinis!

Master has been so nice to me since we arrived at the condo!  Of course I have to do all the chores and follow all of his orders and he has spanked me a few times.  But mostly we are passing our days and night in bed or in the hot tub.  It has been so romantic!  We have been spending hours and hours kissing and having sex.  And after he is done having sex with me, he has been letting me snuggle up against him.  I feel so safe and happy when Master wraps his big strong arms around me. 

Here we are in the tub again.  I am giving him a handjob.  His enormous, hard cock feels so good in my soft, manicured hand.  I am so content and fulfilled serving and pleasing my Master.  

I wish my Sissy Spring Break would never end.

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My Perfect Sissy Housewife

Two years ago, my husband finally admitted to me that he was a crossdresser.  Of course, I had figured that out years earlier -- but I just waited patiently for him to finally admit it to me.  And during those years of waiting, I had been thinking long and hard about how I was going to deal with my husband's crossdressing.

So when he finally said something, I let loose with my well prepared list of demands.  I started by telling him that, from now on, I would be wearing the pants in the family.  My career was really taking off and his was going nowhere.  I decided that I would like to have a sweet little housewife taking care of me and my home full-time.  That would be his job from now on.

And he would not be just any housewife.  Oh no.  He would take the role of a traditional, obedient, submissive homemaker from decades past.  He would live and dress the part.  Every detail would have to be perfect and to my liking -- from his pretty hair-do, to his pleated skirt, to the sheer hostess apron tied aroung his trim little waist to the smile on his pink, glossy lips as he went about his chores.  His endless chores!

At first, he tried to protest but he was simply too much of a sissy to fight me.  I started implementing our "lifestyle changes" right then and there.  I made him hand over his license, credit cards and passport -- and watch as I ran them through the shredder.  Within a week, I had him empty every closet and drawer of his old clothes and reminders of his old life, which I refilled with his new homemaker fashions.  Within a month, we had moved to a new town to make it easier for us to restart our life as a high powered lady executive and her devoted, old fashioned housewife and partner.

That was two years ago and my husband is now been completely transformed, in body and mind, into the gentle, doting housewife I wanted.  He has become completely proficient at doing all his housewifey chores, from cooking, to cleaning,to giving me footrubs, to preparing my martini when I get home in the evening.  Here he is doing the laundry.  He takes such pride in being the perfect housewife.  Look at how happy he is knowing that he is pleasing me.

I have recently started dating one of the senior partners at my law firm.  He will be coming over to my house tonight for a romantic dinner that my hubby-housewife will prepare and serve.  If the date goes well, hopefully my sissy will be serving us breakfast in bed as well.






'

A Sissy Gets Married Off

I had known about my husband's feminine urges since before we were married.  I didn't mind his cross dressing or his need to be submissive to me.

At first this was exciting for me too.  I had always had a dominant streak and my husband's Sissy submission to me fulfilled certain needs I had as well.  But eventually, I tired of the game.  In my strict hands, my husband had progressed from a weak-willed, cross-dressing male to a beautiful, fully feminized submissive Sissy.

I needed to make some changes in my life.  Most importantly, I needed to kick my Sissy husband out of the house so my new lover could move in with me full-time.

My Sissy husband was very upset when I explained that I had arranged to marry him off to a man I had found who was looking for a Sissy wife.  There were lots of tears and he begged for me not to go through with this, but I had made up my mind.  Anyway, who cares what a Sissy wants?

That was six months ago.  I am now very happily living with my handsome lover and my Sissy ex is living with his new Husband and Master.  My Sissy ex's entire life now revolves around pleasing his Husband and Master.  He spends hours each day ensuring that his hair and make-up are perfect as his Husband requires.  He toils around the clock to ensure that the house is spotless, clothes are washed and ironed, and that meals are on the table when his Husband returns home from work.  And of course, my Sissy ex has to satisfy his Husband and Master's endless sexual needs as well.

From the photos I've seen, it looks like my ex is starting to embrace his new life as the Sissy wife to a real man.   He certainly seems to enjoy being treated as a "lady" by his strong and dominant Husband.  Look at how he smiles as his Husband and Master touches him with his rough, strong hands.  Look at how he moans with pleasure when being kissed and having his Husband fondle his big boobs.

I guess it was always his destiny to be the submissive Sissy wife of a real man.


 

Sissy Gets Ready to go Out

Two months ago, my little sister had caught me dressed up in mom's clothes and make-up when she came home early one afternoon.  She said that she would tell mom and dad -- unless I did exactly what she said from now on.  I guess I had always been a bully to my little sister and now was payback time.

Since then, we've been playing "dress up" almost every night.  After dinner, we run up to her room where she makes me practice doing my make-up and styling the wig she made me buy.  She makes practice walking in high heels and sounding like a girl when I talk.

She told all her friends about what a sissy I was -- and how I was really cute when dressed up like a girl.  Tonight, my sister told me, was going to be my "coming out" party.  She was going to take me, along with three of her friends, to a fancy club downtown where they never check IDs of cute girls who want to go in.  I'm the only one old enough to have a license, so I have to drive.

Mom and dad went out early to go to a party so we spent most of the afternoon getting ready.  My sister picked out my outfit for the evening from mom's closet -- a fancy gold and white Lily Pulitzer dress and a pair of strappy high heels.  She helped me get my wig and make-up just right.

"Hmmm," she said with a smile while looking me over when we were done.  "You know, Michael, you really do look like a pretty girl.  I don't think any of the guys at the club would ever guess that you're really a boy when they start flirting with you.  Just be careful when they start feeling you up."

When she said that, I broke down into tears, panic suddenly overcoming me.  "Please don't make me do this!  PLEASE!"

"Oh for God sake STOP CRYING!," my sister yelled.  "You're ruining your make-up!  You are such a big sissy!  Get it together and fix your make-up before the girls get here!  NOW HURRY!"  She slammed the door and went downstairs.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror.  My sister was right -- I did look like a pretty girl.  And she was also right about me being a big sissy. I knew I had to obey my sister or she would tell mom and dad.  As I started redoing my make-up, I tried to imagine what it was going to be like, being in a fancy nightclub in a pretty backless dress, sexy stilettos and glamorous make-up, knowing that men would be trying to talk to me and buy me drinks and...other things.

"Michael!  I mean Michelle!" my sister yelled from downstairs.  "Hurry up!  The girls are here!"

I dried my tears and fought to calm myself down.  I fixed my mascara and finished putting on my bright red lipstick.  I grabbed my little clutch purse and headed down the stairs.

When my sister's friends saw me, they screamed with delight.  They all told me how pretty and sexy I looked.  They said that all the guys would be drooling all over me tonight.  I enjoyed hearing the girls say that I was pretty -- but talking about the men at the club made me feel  sort of sick to my stomach.

One of the girls said, "And when you're giving some guy a blow job tonight, be sure to swallow every drop.  You don't want to get any stains on  your mother's pretty dress."

The girls howled with laughter at that.  I almost started to cry again.

"Time to go, Michelle," my sister said.

A Simple Minded Sissy

Poor Sissy Gretchen.  His transformation had been particularly difficult.  He had resisted the process every step of the way.  He simply would not cooperate with the plans I had for him.  But I knew he would make an exceptionally pretty -- and valuable -- sissy once the transformation was complete.

Through a combination of drugs, hypnosis, electroshock and beatings, I was eventually able to break through his resistance and complete his conversion.  And I was right -- I was able to transform this young man into one of the prettiest sissies I ever made.

Aided by a daily dose of narcotics, Sissy Gretchen becomes a simple minded little sissy who no longer has any will of his own.  He will obediently follow any instruction given no matter how demeaning or disgusting.  That makes him the perfect sissy escort.  I have a long list of wealthy men who have no problem paying me thousands of dollars for a few hours with this gorgeous and completely docile sissy love doll.

At the end of every long day of sissy sex servitude, Sissy Gretchen has an unusual bedtime routine.  He strips off his pretty dress and slips into a sexy, sheer and very revealing baby doll nightgown. Then he allows me to put a ball gag in his mouth and to tie his wrists and ankles to the bedposts.  Sissy Gretchen falls asleep, content and mindless.  I leave his bedroom light on.

These bedtime preparations are required because during the hours before dawn, Sissy Gretchen will awaken as yesterday's dose of narcotics begin to wear off.  As his brain begins to refocus, he remembers who he was -- and what he has become.  I expect his mind is flooded, all at once, with images of his feminized self submitting to the disgusting demands of his many male clients.  The terror he experiences is amplified by seeing his own gorgeous sissy reflection in the mirrored ceiling above his bed, his enormous breasts barely concealed by his sheer baby doll nightie.  He writhes in mental agony on top of his bed, struggling to free himself from his lashings.  His screams muffled by the bright red ball gag in his mouth.

I allow this to continue to a couple of hours until I am ready to get out of bed and deal with poor Sissy Gretchen.  By then he is a wreck, overcome by his exhaustion and horror.  I stand above him and tease him.  "Oh, what's the matter sissy?" I might say.  "Don't you like staring at your sexy reflection in the ceiling mirror?  Aren't you happy that you are now a perfect sissy slut?  Didn't you have fun yesterday -- and everyday -- doing all those nasty things you did to all those men?"  It doesn't take much to get him to start sobbing.

Eventually I take pity on him I inject him with today's dose of narcotics.  He slips back into unconsciousness for a couple of hours.  When he awakens later, the episode he experienced just a few hours earlier will have been completely forgotten, as he begins another day of obedient sissy sex servitude.

Sissy Attends a Tea Party



"Now don't look so glum, sweetie," Mistress said.  "You are going to have a wonderful time at the tea party. And you look so pretty in your new dress.  I'm sure all the other sissies will be jealous of you."  She patted me on the cheek as if I were a little child.  "Now hurry and get my coat and get in the car."

I did as I was instructed.  I felt ridiculous in my new dress.  It was pink, covered with ruffles and had a wide satin sash around the waist.  Mistress made me wear pink anklets and open toes burgandy platform shoes to complete the ultimate sissy look.

I dread going to sissy tea parties.  Every Wednesday afternoon, my Mistress dresses me up in some frilly, lacy dress and drags me to the weekly sissy tea party.  The tea parties are held at a huge mansion outside of town that is owned by one of her friends.

We arrive at the mansion right on time at 3:00.  I follow my Mistress inside in silence.  She greets her friends, who are all sissy owners just like her.  I curtsey to each of the other Mistresses in silence.  The Mistresses make a fuss over my new pink outfit.  I greet the other sissies with a small kiss.  Today there are four Mistresses each with her own sissy.

The sissies move into the kitchen where we prepare the tea and plates of food for our Mistresses.  We serve our Mistresses in silence while they chat among themselves, treating us sissies as if we were invisible.  While the Mistresses eat and chat, the sissies stand in silence at the edges of the room, quickly attending to any needs of our Mistresses.

At 5:00, the Mistresses have finished their tea and conversation and the sissies have cleared the table and washed all the dishes.  Now is the part that I hate the most.  The sissies stand in a line in front of the Mistresses who pair each us off with another sissy.  We then have to make out with our sissy partner in front of the Mistresses.  The sissies have learned that it is important to put on a good show for the Mistresses, so we really get into it, running our hands over each other's boobs and bottoms, grinding our hips into each other, moaning and gasping as we deeply french kiss each other.  The Mistresses love the show.  They shout demeaning and filthy things at us.  

"Time for some sucky-sucky fun!" one of the Mistresses shouts.  Two sissies are instructed to remain standing, while two are sent to their knees to administer a sissy blow job.  Today I am told to stand while Sissy Annabel is told to kneel.  I gather up the full, frilly skirt of my dress while Sissy Annabel lowers my panties and puts my tiny little cock in her mouth.  Now the Mistresses go completely wild.  They are shouting at us, laughing at our tiny penises and joking about how much sissies love to swallow cum.  Some ever start touching themselves as the excitement of the show becomes too much for them to handle.  I close my eyes as I begin to cum in Sissy Annabel's mouth.

The party ends and we begin the drive home.  I know that I will be up late tonight licking my Mistress's pussy for hours as I help her to relieve her excitement from the afternoon.



A Sissy Begs for Forgiveness

"Oh, please, Stepmother," I begged.  "It won't happen again.  I am so sorry.  I promise.  Please don't punish me.  PLEASE!"  I stood in the middle of the room, perched in my towering high heels, my manicured hands clasped together as I repented for my failings.

"SILENCE!" Stepmother shouted.  "You are NEVER to speak unless spoken to!"

I lowered my eyes to the floor, now terrified that I had made my terrible situation much worse.

"Look at you, you pathetic sissy.  I can see right through that ridiculus outfit you are wearing.  Only a real sissy slut would dress like that.  Aren't I right?"  she asked.

"Yes Ma'am," I replied softly, even though we both knew that she picked out all the outfits I was allowed to wear.

"You broke a very expensive teacup when you were washing the dishes today and that sort of misbehavior must be punished.  So what will it be, sissy?  The paddle or the dildo?"

Oh no, I thought.  This was going to be bad.  Even though my bottom was still raw from my last spanking, I really hated being punished with Stepmother's strap-on.  "The paddle," I said.  "Please," I quickly added.

I pulled down my panties, lifted my billowy skirt over my waist, and lay across Stepmother's lap.  But before she started paddling my bottom, she called out loudly, "Tiffany, please come in here!"

And in walked Tiffany, my stepsister.  Oh God!  What was Tiffany doing here?  It was so humiliating having my much younger stepsister seeing me like this, laying across Stepmother's lap, with my skirt hiked up and my bare bottom sticking up in the air. I started to try to squirm away, but Stepmother is so much stronger than me and she held me firmly in place.  "Be still, Sissy!"  Stepmother growled.  Tiffany roared with laughter seeing me like this.

"You see, Sissy," she explained, "I decided that it was time to show Tiffany how to discipline you.  That way we can ensure that you will always be as obidient to her as you are to me.  Now go ahead, Tiffany.  Do it just the way I explained."

Tiffany picked up my punishment paddle and waved it in front of my face.  "Kiss it, Sissy," she said with an evil grin.  I did just as instructed, knowing that to protest would be very unwise.

And with that Tiffany began to administer 20 stinging blows to my bare bottom, while her mother held me firmly in place on her lap.  After the first ten, Stepmother said to Tiffany, "Now dear, if you don't spank him harder than that, how will he ever learn his lesson?"

Tiffany put all her strength into the next ten blows.  I could hear her laughing as she abused my bottom.  Tears were pouring down my face as the pain and humiliation were unbearable.

When Tiffany was done with my beating, Stepmother started rubbing my burning bottom.  "Have you learned your lesson, Sissy?"

"Yes Ma'am," I whimpered.  "I'm very sorry. I learned my lesson."  I started to get up from Stepmother's lap.

"Not so fast, Sissy," she said with a sneer as she kept me pinned to her lap with her strong arms.  "You didn't thank Tiffany for teaching you a lesson and helping you to become a better Sissy."

I choked back my tears and forced myself to say, "Thank you Tiffany for teaching me a lesson and helping me to become a better Sissy."

Stepmother administered a sharp bare-handed slap to my bright red bottom and snarled, "From now on you will refer to her as Mistress Tiffany, do you understand?"

"Yes, Stepmother.  I understand.  I am sorry for my inpertinence, Mistress Tiffany."

"That's more like it," Stepmother said with a satisfied smile.  "Now get yourself cleaned up and get started on making dinner."

Mr. Lane's Sissy

Last month, I told Mr. Lane, the counselor at my school, that sometimes I like dressing up in girl's clothing.  I thought that maybe I was crazy and that he would be able to help me.

Mr. Lane was really nice.  He said I wasn't crazy at all and that there was nothing wrong with having "girlish feelings."  He asked me a lot of embarrassing and personal questions. He asked me things like if wearing satin panties made me excited and if I ever thought about kissing boys.  I guess I answered the questions well because he was smiling a lot and kept saying, "That's good, very good."

He said that he would help me but that for my own good it would have to be "our little secret."  He told me that I should meet him at his house every day after school.

The first time I visited his house, he showed me a whole closet full of girl's clothing and shoes and wigs and stuff.  He said that it was important for me to "embrace my feminine feelings" and "explore and experience girlish things."  He showed me how to do my make-up and stuff.  He let me wear a dress and took some photos of me before I had to change back into my boy clothes and go home.

It's been four weeks since that first visit.  Everyday I rush to Mr. Lane's house as soon as school is out.  I do my make-up and put on girl's undies and whatever dress Mr. Lane left out for me to wear.  I hurry so that I can be all ready and look very pretty by the time Mr. Lane gets home.

Mr. Lane said that today would be very special.  I put on the pretty flowered dress and matching hair bow that he had left out for me.  I met him at the door when he got home and he handed me a big bouquet of flowers.  Then he hugged me and gave me a big kiss.  I didn't really like that but he said it was part of the process of understanding my girlish feelings.  Then he told me how beautiful I looked and that made me feel happy.

We then moved to the couch where he told me to sit on his lap.  I had never done that before and it made me sort of nervous but I did it anyway.  Then he started kissing me some more and running his hands all over my body.  I could feel that he was getting an erection.

"Today, I'm going to teach you to be a real girl," he said as he unzipped his pants.  "Now get on your knees."