Short Story: John Peters is worried about his future.

Dear Mistress Judith,

       I'm writing to you in despair. Having been given an opportunity by my new Mistress and Mr Wilcox I let them down badly. The first gathering of Mistresses friends I had served at and I got dizzy and dropped a tray of cucumber sandwiches. After helping her friends off with their hats, coats and stoles at the door I showed them into the drawing room. Each coat I removed revealed another beautiful blouse or dress made of some exotic or expensive fabric. I know cotton uniforms and dresses are the most I can hope for but I do dream of assisting you into such lovely garments when I return to the Manor as your maid. The sound of their skirts as they walked and mingled, The blended smell of all their perfumes. Their elaborate hair styles and confident aristocratic manner all combined to make me come over with a dizzy spell, drop the sandwiches and lose consciousness for a moment. I woke with my head cradled in the satin skirts of one fine lady as three more peered down at me. One had a fan and was blowing air on me. I struggled to my feet and apologized as I adjusted my skirts, re-fixed my head band and tried to clean up my mess. I was so ashamed as I heard My Mistress say that Wilcox had warned her. The other lady said she thought it very modern, having a "De-Maled" Nancy Boy as a Parlour Maid. When I returned to my room, I had to change my bloomers as I had also suffered a semen surge as I was passing out.

      Things had been going well. Mr Jenkins has been helping me with my control by buggering me slowly. He is encouraging me to practice my clench and roll. He says my goal should be to bring him to a finish without him having to move. While my old master concentrated on purging me of the silly notions, I used to have of maleness by aggressively filling me with his seed and explaining the difference between me and a man. Mr Jenkins is teaching me to please a man. My new master has already used me and said I had greatly improved. I glowed with pride when he said that.

     The shooting weekend went well as you know. I managed to sneak a peek at you through the upstairs banisters. You were holding Sir Charles's arm and I could almost feel your admiration for him as he led you into the ball room on the Saturday night. He looked so strong and handsome in his regimental uniform and your gown was so beautiful. I just wished it had been me that had dressed you for him. On the Sunday afternoon I had to give the beaters their incentive to show up early for the next shoot. Mr Granger was very nice and laid a blanket out in one of the stables to keep my uniform clean. He also put down a jug of water and glass for me. He led the first villager in. I was not quite prepared for the smell. Tramping around in the woods all day has its side effects. I must say that none of the villagers were as large and virile as the men on the estate. The larger ones did take a bit more work but I was happy to receive the reward. One fellow finished before I got him out of his pants and a couple were so small I wondered if perhaps like me they had been misled about their true sex. Mr Granger stopped it at ten and told the rest of the lineup it was only the earliest ten that received my favours. Mr Granger said I did very well and there would be no shortage of beaters for the next shoot.

     So, after feeling like I was making progress and I would be ready when you asked me to come back to the Manor and be your maid, I lose control of my sensibilities and embarrassed my Mistress. Mr Wilcox wants to see me first thing in the morning. If you do find some kind words for me, I hope they find me still here after the meeting.

You're ever loving but ashamed and embarrassed husband,

John

(Written by Tulips Love you lots.)

New Tulips story coming tomorrow

Surprise! New story coming tomorrow! 

Tuesday Tulips Short Story: Tulip Gets Some Job Satisfaction

Tulip Fancy

Our sweet girl, Tulips lands a job being a sales clerk in a shop.  

     I was quite enjoying working for Monsieur Rabanna he's a really nice man. I thought it was just serving in a shop when I started there. But it has turned out to be so much more. We put on a show, more of a performance than anything else. He likes the shop to have the feel of an old-fashioned department store. I wear my black and white black knee length skirt, white blouse nothing to fancy maybe a pussy bow nothing to upstage the customer. "We must always make the customers feel superior to us." he says.  I must always call the customer "Madame" and always call him "Monsieur Rabanna" when people are in the shop and he calls me Tulip. He will clap his hands when he wants me to bring him something for a customer. 

      Ladies come in months in advance of an event they are attending. They already have an outfit in mind and want him to design and make a hat to suit. He has meetings with them in what he calls his salon. I will make tea and take it into them on a silver tray. Pour it for them and return to the shop. If he wants something he will call my name and clap his hands twice. I will hurry in as fast as my heels and skirt will allow and attend to their needs. Some of the ladies have been going to him for years. He says if we were just selling hats it wouldn't work. We have to make them feel special. He also prefers appointment only for his own designs that way he can make sure the ladies don't meet. Every now and then he refuses an appointment to maintain his exclusive reputation. Sometimes he might have three or four different hats at the same event. 

       I liked being part of this and he showed me how to dress the cheaper hat blanks he buys in bulk for the cheaper end of the market that keeps the doors open. He couldn't pay me much and I still hadn't been able to contribute to the household budget. I really feel like I was letting my wife down, but everything I make seamed to go on things I'm told I need. 

    Since Kelly had started my waist training, I have had to buy new skirts for work and a couple of extra blouses. One you could slightly see the outline of my stays through. Monsieur Rabanna was very complimentary and said it fitted the look of the shop. Every week there is something new. whether it is skin softeners for my bubble baths replacement shower hats or a new pallet or lipstick shade. Even my weekly hair dressing goes on the housekeeping card. I can't even pay for that. 

      My wife says she has never had any expectations that I would support us. Which shocked me a little. Don't all women expect that of their husband if need be. She says the work I do around the home is the most important thing. If I can keep my little part time shop job that makes her happy, if it makes me happy.

Surrender Sunday (FLR Public Announcement)

 

Priscilla's Photo Captions Picks of the Week (9/30/24)

Submission Saturday

(from X/Twitter: Unknown Artist

 

*Sissy Anatomy Diagram

Found this online, I'm reminded of the pamphlet in the story, "The Sissy Bride: What to Expect on your Wedding Night."

(video from Kelli Smith: https://x.com/cd_kelli)

"Turned" Thursday

 

Officially A Sissy

 

Priscilla's Photo Captions Picks of the Week (9/23/24)

Karen Jensen Returns with Katie and Tracy

Karen Jensen returns with her latest sweet coming of age story, Tracy, a young college student with a tragic past connects with free spirited Katie, a girl with her own dark past. She finds a secret that Tracy struggles to hide. Katie helps Tracy fully develop "her" other self.

Sample: 

“For me” she smiled. “That deserves a reward for which she climbed on my lap, put her arms around my neck and give me a long passionate kiss. That had a predictable reaction from me which she felt on her against her thigh.”

“Does that mean you like me or is that a gun you are packing?” she laughed paraphrasing an old Mae West movie.

“I’m sorry” I said.

“I’m not.” She replied and began unbuttoning my shirt. Before I could stop her she discovered the yellow camisole I was wearing under my shirt.

She stared at it for a moment.

“I’m sorry. If you want to leave, I understand. I started to cry.”

“Why would I want to leave. When I found out my boyfriend has a new exciting side to him?”

“You’re not upset?” 

“On the contrary. I am more excited than ever. So, tell me…. are you also wearing panties?”

“Ummm….Yes.”

“Do they match?”

“Yes, I am so embarrassed.”

“No! Don’t be. You don’t need to be ashamed of who you are. Own it. I love you even more. Now stop your crying and remove those pants so I can see my beautiful girly boyfriend,”

Together they venture out into the city for a night of role reversal, clubbing, sight seeing, unexpected brawls.... the night will belong to Katie and Tracy

Link:

Katie and Tracy

Short Story: John Peters Gets a Promotion

Journal Entry: 

I put my polishing rag into my bucket, wiped my hands on my apron, got up off my knees and followed Mr Wilcox to his office and stood in front of his desk. My stomach was in turmoil, to make matters worse  I had an urgent need to pee. 

He sat down on the other side of the desk. I felt those eyes drilling into me. He started to speak in that deep clear voice. He said that despite his misgivings the mistress had ask that I be made up to Parlour Maid. 

She has asked that, "You be freshly uniformed at all times and that your hands are gloved when not attending to her.' I know you have claimed to have filled in at this level at the manor, but I am skeptical. I know how clumsy and flustered you fairy boys get when in the presents of groups of accomplished women of stature. I do not want to hear any rattling China or spilt tea. You must concentrate on smooth graceful movements. Your actions reflect on the estate." 

"Do not let the mistress down." Keeping my eyes lowered, I curtsied and said, "Yes Mr. Wilcox."

Then he did what I was desperately hoping he would not. He pushed his chair back from his desk and taped his knee. I could feel the blood draining from my face as I said the words I knew he wanted to hear. 

"Oh, please Daddy can I please play with your happy sausage and make it squirt with joy." 

"Of course you can pumpkin," he replied smiling. 

I walk around to his side of the desk, sat on one knee and unbuttoned his monster's cave. 

It is so much bigger than anything I have had to deal with before. I held it in two hands as I massaged it until he finally orgasmed and flooded the front of my apron, after the third round of my lisping Baa Baa black sheep rendition. I had written to Mistress Judith about it but she had scolded me for questioning a superior's actions and reminded me that when attending to Mr Wilcox. I was literally, 'holding my career in my hands'. I cleaned him up with my mop hat. 

"Good Girl," he remarked.

I put him away and climbed off his lap. I held up the corners of my apron to contain the mess and keep it from soaking through too my dress as I stood to leave. He asked me to send Tilly to him if I saw her. Tilly was the Parlour Maid and a friend of mine. I used to practice my hair skills on her in the evening. She was in the corridor as I went to change my apron. I passed on the message. Later that day I saw her shaking people's hands, hugging and sobbing, she was in her overcoat with a small suitcase. She opened the servants entrance door looked me straight in the eye and just said, "Slut" as she left. I've never felt so ashamed....

(Written By: Tulips Fancy) 

Priscilla's Photo Captions Picks of the Week (9/16/24)

 

Source: Sissy Pansy Francine

Priscilla's Photo Captions Picks of the Week (9/9/24)