A Cassandra Romance, an heiress, Marie Bourbonnais, refuses to marry the foppish, homosexual scion of another wealthy family. However, she succeeds in convincing her mother there is a flawless resolution to this perceived quandary.
Chapter One: Mystical Marie
“Mother, I absolutely abhor arranged marriages. And in this case, a coordinated union with a flaming swish such as Etienne Marcoux, would be out of the question. I know that I might at times prefer the sexual company of a delicate female. However, if I do marry, it will be to a male that will be manly enough to haul my ashes until I faint from passionate hysteria,” insisted Marie Bourbonnais, to her mother Collette.
“Please Marie. Don’t speak to me that way. I’m your mother. You sound like your late father. A wonderful man indeed, but at times he could be quite crude. You do take after him though. Well I have no idea what to do, then?” Collette confessed.
“Well I do. My father did not raise me a fool, and long before he passed away her realized my wastrel bother, Corneille, would never be able to run the family business. Please listen to me mother and hear me out? I’m certain this will appear slightly curious. But for all concerned, it will be for the very best,” promised Marie.
Collette Bourbonnais listened intently to her daughter’s outline. At times Collette was intrigued. Then again, she was amazed to hear what her daughter was proposing. There were times when she could barely look at Marie, from her surprise and shock. At other moments Collette’s mouth fell wide open in astonishment.
Yet, when all was said and done, Collette realized this proposal was something her late and much older spouse, Pierre, might have done under the circumstances. He along with Briand Marcoux, had always desired to combine the vast fortunes of the Bourbonnais’s and the Marcoux’s. She sighed.
“Well dear, you do realize we’ll have to convince the Marcoux’s of this course of action? And your brother? You know he will attempt to rebel. Have you made allowances for any sort of snags, Marie?” Collette asked.
“There will be no snags mother. I’ve contacted a school, not far at all from Montreal. Just outside the suburban neighborhoods to be more exact. It is a training school for sissies. It’s referred to as The Winthrop Institute of Greater Montreal,” Marie explained.
“If we are unable to feminize Corneille here at the estate, Winthrop will take him as a student in September. But we will have the entire summer, once his Freshman term at university is out, to break him in as a sissy. Of course, when he gets home, as usual, he’ll complain he was expelled at the end of the term,” Marie shrugged.
“Yes of course he will. The school has already notified me that no amount of money could get them to keep him for another term. So, tell me, dear daughter. How to you propose to concoct this feminization?” Collette Bourbonnais asked.
“The Winthrop school has already given me the names of three women who work as a team to feminize the obstinate sons of patrician French Canadians such as we are. They are professionals. They received their training as employees of this Winthrop school. I have already contacted them,” Marie explained.
“One lady will work as Cordelia’s governess. The other as her tutor. The third as her personal maid. We may as well begin thinking of her as a female named Cordelia. Cordelia Antoinette Bourbonnais to be exact. I chose that name myself. Lovely appellation is it not, mother?” Marie asked.
“Yes, very much so. Quite pretty. So, then. What about our own staff here? Won’t my son, excuse me, my new daughter, traipsing about on heels and wearing dresses, cause somewhat of a stir among the servants?” Collette asked.
“Forgive me mother but I’ve already discussed this with some of the workforce. They in turn provided feedback from the remainder of the employees. My brother, soon to be sister, has infuriated every single member of our household personnel at one time or another. Enough so, that none of the staff will as much as raise an eyebrow once they see Monsieur Corneille, mincing about as Demoiselle Cordelia,” Colette smiled.
“Not even a teeny bit, momma. Non, momma. They’ve even offered to assist and went so far as to ask what they could do to further promote Cordelia’s transition,” Marie said, very pleased.
“Now, between today and the summer university break, I’m having our east-wing refurbished and re-opened, to house Cordelia, her governess, tutor and maid in a private setting. She and they will be isolated from the rest of the household to accelerate her modifications,” Marie further informed her mother.
“We may visit, of course and her mentors will be able to call on other members of our staff for any assistance. I have also contacted a modiste, a coiffeur, a Gyn, and a cosmetologist for their services. I plan on having Cordelia either acclimated as a female member of our household, or off to the Winthrop academy by September,” Marie announced.
“All I can say Marie, is that you are your father’s daughter and he would be so very proud of you, dear. One last thing. What about the Marcoux’s? I can already foresee that Cordelia won’t have even the slightest chance to rebel. How will the Marcoux’s take to their son and heir, marrying an effeminized sissy?” Collette.
“I am certain when I unveil this scheme to Briand and Odette Marcoux, they will be delighted. Just think of the embarrassment this will save them. Instead of their homosexual son taking up housekeeping with some other dainty dandy, he’ll be married to what everyone thinks is a real woman,” Marie explained.
“Cordelia will be introduced as my younger half-sister, and your step-daughter, from an affair father had with an unnamed woman. Daddy’s last wishes were that Cordelia be allowed to be part of our family. Of course, you and I adore her and have opened our doors, our home, our arms and our hearts to her,” Marie smiled.
“Gracious me, Marie. You have thought of everything. I would also suggest that we must have a cover story for Corneille’s disappearance?” Collette suggested.
“Yes. Corneille demanded his inheritance. A potion was given to him and he was off to Europe with some floozy he met while philandering at the University. Of course, the similarities in first names will mean nothing, as Daddy’s mother was also named Cordelia,” added Marie.
In the days, weeks and the three months to follow, preparations were fully made, to welcome the soon-to-be, new “Bourbonnais Sister” to the estate. In the meantime, Marie and Colette had the Marcoux’s over for dinner. Marie, the oldest child of Colette and the late Pierre Bourbonnais was now 28 years old.
Her father, Pierre was 50 when she was born and nearly sixty when her brother, soon to be sister, Cordelia was spawned. 16 years later, at the age of 76, Pierre passed away. Corneille, now 19 years old was 16 at the time of his father’s demise.
Even then, Pierre knew that his son would never amount to anything and had groomed his daughter to take over the business and investments. Though the Bourbonnais and Marcoux families had once been industrialists they had been forced to diversify. Marie had been greatly responsible for the current diversification.
She was a very savvy businesswoman. Both Briand and Odette Marcoux trusted her faultlessly. So, as it was after dinner and during drinks, with both Pierre and Marie smoking a cheroot, that Marie launched into her proposal and discourse, on the future of Cordelia and Etienne as a married couple and the unification of the two, family fortunes.
“Well, I have to admit you are both cunning and thorough Marie. As for Etienne having any financial control, I’ll leave that up to you. I’m just happy to be able to save face as a father, and have my son married to someone who appears to be a female,” Briand smiled.
“That you and your mother, Colette, would sacrifice the manhood of Corneille in order to achieve this objective we all have, is commendable, Marie. Don’t you think so, Odette?” Briand asked.
“Oh, yes, absolutely darling. Yes. We save face. The fortunes are united through marriage, and safely taken care of by Marie. I just hope, Marie, that you can find a man to give you heirs, and grandchildren for your mother,” Odette intoned.
“We might be able to do something along those lines. As for Cordelia, well, she was never much of a boy, and would never have amounted to anything as a member of the male sex. She’ll be much better off as a bride, a trophy wife, a little homemaker and possibly a mother of adoptive children,” smiled Marie.
“Briand darling, now there is an idea. Etienne and Cordelia could adopt. Your Marie thinks of everything, Colette,” laughed Odette.
“Yes. Indeed, she does, Odette,” smiled Marie.
Chapter II: The Taming of Cordelia
Cordelia Antoinette Bourbonnais simpered and trembled as the mewling pansy she was. She wobbled helplessly as she attempted to stand delicately in her heels. While she swayed most pitiably from the corset lacing bar, she hopelessly begged to see her “mommy” and her sister. It had been but two weeks since her emasculation had begun.
She was still in the hopeless and helpless stages of regret and denial. Tears streamed from her eyes. She was fortunate her makeup had not been applied. Madame Emily Defarge, her governess, along with her personal maid, Lisette, abhorred makeup that was runny and tear-stained from babyish, sissified crying.
The consequence for makeup smeared in this manner was either a paddling while one’s wrists were fastened to one’s ankles, or an over-the-knee, hairbrush spanking. Though her hands held the lacing bar tightly, holding on to the bar was virtually needless. After all, her wrists were snugly fastened to the bar with handcuffs.
Lisette tightened the corset laces as Ms. Emily measured and announced waistline dimensions. Ms. Emily had been quite thrilled with the sissy-boy’s facial features, hair-length, thickness and color of her tresses, when she’d initially been shown her photographs by her sister.
When she had taken her height, weight and preliminary waist measurements she’d become even more pleased. What dominant female, about to feminize a nineteen-year-old boy, wouldn’t enjoy a boyish subject already weighing only 137 pounds, standing not quite 5’ 9” and a luscious a 28-inch waistline?
Emily saw much potential in this long-haired, blond, blue-eyed, slender, slightly built, effeminate sissy. She was going to make a very striking, lovely girl. She was already properly submitting. Besides her girlish whimpering, and pointless sniveling, there really wasn’t an iota of boyish pride or even futile, token resistance remaining in this sissy.
She was, as they said in the Sisterhood, “wonderfully broken.” Indeed, she looked just lovely in a skirt, blouse and heels. With proper makeup and only perfunctory hair styling, Cordelia could look just scrumptiously adorable. At this point however, Emily, Cordelia’s governess, had to wonder how much this girl would sob and cry, once she was on female hormones?
As the corset laces became very tight, Emily called out to Lisette, “She’s at 25 inches. Tie everything off. Then we’ll let her stand there and her shaping can settle. I need to make a few phone calls. One to the hairdresser and another to the GYN. When I get back we’ll release her from the lacing bar and begin dressing her,” the governess announced.
Lisette decided to lecture her charge while she was now a captive audience. “Your blubbering will not get through to us, you know? If anything, we may just decide to attire you as a ten-year-old and promenade you through the mansion for the servants to mock you. Now wouldn’t that be shameful?” Lisette, the maid asked.
“If you would just grow up and cease the sissified mewling, we might just allow you to speak with your mother and sister. I can assure you though, it won’t change anything. Your mother has left you in your sister’s care and your sister has assigned us with your emasculation. You’re not much of a boy to begin with,” said Lisette, letting the insult sink in.
“You will be dressing and learning to speak and act like a girl for a long, extended time. This is just the beginning of your feminization, Cordelia. At this very moment, Madame Emily is contacting the Coiffeur to have your hair done, and a GYN to give you injections of Estrogen to feminize your body,” Lisette informed, the sissy.
“Outside of your pitiful sobbing, you have been complying nicely. I suggest, you call a halt to your woeful moaning and begin to enjoy the beautiful, young female you are about to become, at our expert hands. The more you comply, the more we’ll treat you as a normal female charge. No more spankings, paddling or caning, for you,” intoned Lisette.
“There. The Coiffeur will be here in the morning and the GYN in the afternoon. Both on the morrow. The Modiste will arrive in the morning the following day for measurements. You are about to become a skinny redhead with plump breasts, dear Cordelia,” laughed Emily.
“Let’s lower her down and unbind her. Then we’ll mince-march her to her dressing room. What a fortunate young lady. Her very own beauty room and dressing room. She’ll be wearing lavish fashions designed and sewn by a sought after Modiste. And her sister plans on giving her nice, big, boobs,” smiled Madame Emily.
“Not to mention charm classes with her very own private tutor. Cordelia, I think it is time you began to appreciate the extravagant lifestyle your dear sister is providing for you. Come along Cordelia. That’s correct girl. Tiny mincing steps and swing those hips. One foot daintily in front of the next,” instructed Emily.
The following morning, after a light breakfast, Cordelia sat in her private “Beauty room,” staring at her own pretty reflection in a wrap-around mirror. Her hair was still wet from the rich shampoo she’d been given. Her Governess, Madame Emily Defarge, described to the female hairdresser or Coiffeur what she wanted done with Cordelia’s shoulder length locks.
The stylist began snipping the bright blonde hair. When she was finished trimming, shaping and styling, Cordelia had a very symmetrical long-bob haircut. Now the hairdresser snipped the tip of a bottle applicator. As she sectioned off Cordelia’s tresses, the Coiffeur painted in the rich, dark-auburn color from the bottle.
For the first time in her very early girlish life, Cordelia got a whiff of the chemically rich salon scents she would very soon become quite familiar with. While the head Coiffeur was busy cutting, shaping and coloring Cordelia’s tresses, her two assistants were getting on with the further feminization of Cordelia’s rapidly changing appearance.
One slender girl, plucked, waxed and shaped Cordelia’s eyebrows, while another manicured, lengthened and painted each of Cordelia’s fingernails. First Cordelia’s fingers had to be soaked in a pungently scented pink lotion. Then using a file, the girl cleaned the cuticles and filed the fingertips. After attaching nail extenders, the girl colored Cordelia’s nails with a bold, crimson shade.
That morning, Cordelia had been made to wear her first pair of three-inch heels. She also wore a padded bra, her ever present corset, sheer hose, a tartan knee length skirt and a white blouse. Her tutor, Ms. Elaine, had lectured her at breakfast on keeping her voice soft, sweet and modulated.
“Ladylike tones and movements Cordelia. You’re having company this morning in the manner of the salon staff, along with Doctor Vivian and her nurse this afternoon. Make us all proud with your very prim and proper behavior. You’ve been doing quite well. Let’s continue in that vein girl,” Ms. Elaine, her tutor had encouraged her.
As the hairdresser sectioned and rolled Cordelia’s now, auburn tresses onto plastic curlers, Cordelia wanted to scream that she wasn’t a lady. Cordelia thought of running away. But where would she go? She knew that raucous, boorish screaming or an escape attempt would be dealt with by severe caning.
Cordelia was such a sissy. She could barely contend with a spanking or a paddling. A caning was out of the question. So, she sighed, smiled, curtseyed and delicately agreed, saying, “Yes Mum. I am delighted to please you Ms. Elaine. I’ll behave and enchant you to no end with my most fetching behavior miss.”
With her nails finally polished to a high sheen, her brows beautifully thinned and arched, her hair up in a perfectly set roller pattern, Cordelia seated herself demurely underneath one of two hair dryers in her beauty room. Smiling cheerily, she accepted a copy of “Teen Angel Beauty” from the very trim Coiffeuse, Ms. Delia.
As the perfumed scent of the setting lotion wafted about her olfactory senses, Cordelia read an article on proper makeup application for a dinner date. The hair dryer whirred, the warm air relaxed her and the dreamy article on suitable cosmetic usage placed her in a mindless, dreamlike state. She started to wonder about the reason behind all of this.
Was it so bad, that these ladies were treating her as if she were a female? Yes, it did affect her self esteem slightly. But, was being a female that bad? Certainly, on a day like today, when she was pampered abundantly it could be simply delicious. Especially when she behaved well and acted her age.
Or at least as if she acted as a girl of her actual age. A mature, nineteen-year-old, budding debutante was pleasing to these ladies that surrounded her. Of course, she could consider these women her jailers, or she could regard them as her mentors. And as her mentors they expected something.
They expected of her, perfect, elegant, well-bred behavior. Now her elegantly curled coiffure was finally combed out, sprayed and stylized. Her tasteful, afternoon makeup was applied. She listened intently as Ms. Delia carefully described what she was doing with the “Foundation, powder, blush, rouge, mascara and lip-cream.”
Now the moment of reckoning would come as Cordelia was escorted by her governess to a full-length mirror in the hall. The Coiffeuse, her two assistants, Madame Emily, Ms. Elaine, and Lisette all accompanied the mincing Cordelia. Demoiselle Cordelia walked perfectly and stood flawlessly posed. She grabbed the edges of her tartan skirt.
She turned left and right. She made a great effort to see how her long-bobbed hairstyle curled up in the back from the recent roller set. She pursed her reddened lips to emulate a flirty pout. Then Cordelia smiled. She turned to the group of six, very observant ladies and executed not one, but two very smart curtseys.
“I feel like you’ve made me just so lovely? Haven’t you? Please, someone hug me and tell me I look nice?” Cordelia asked, looking coquettishly at her tutor Miss Elaine. Elaine came forward and reaching out, hugged her charge.
“Yes, my dear Cordelia, you do indeed look quite lovely, my little princess. Now why don’t we thank these nice ladies from Miss Elaine’s beauty parlor? Maybe you’ll see them again? Possibly we can make an appointment in the future for your very first beauty parlor visit?” Elaine stated.
Later that day, in the late afternoon, prior to dinner, Cordelia sat at her vanity, carefully practicing her newly acquired makeup skills. Not long before, Doctor Vivian Rothstein had given Cordelia her very first, quite large, injection of Estrogen and testosterone blockers. As the chemicals surged thru Cordelia’s delicate system, she almost at once relaxed.
The doctor later explained to Cordelia’s mother Colette and her sister Marie, along with Elaine, Emily and Lisette, the effects the monthly boosters and the daily tablets should have.
“She will become somewhat emotional, but not in a way to dislike her further feminization. In fact, the drugs should lead her to embrace and appreciate her budding femininity even more so. She’s likely to become upset over something like breaking a fingernail or getting a run in her hosiery,” smiled the doctor.
“Little things like that. You may even find her daydreaming about little or nothing. So, you all will need to get her to re-focus on the tasks at hand. Little reminders on her posture or her annunciation of certain words. She’ll tend to be more submissive, so the aides-mémoires can be subtle and less curt,” the doctor added.
So, in just two weeks, Cordelia had already begun to adjust to her emasculation. Embracing it and feeling comfortable with it wouldn’t be far off. As the doctor had warned, albeit mildly, the early stages of the hormone treatments would be a critical juncture.
“It’s almost akin to a teen’s formative years. Chronologically she’s nineteen but consider her sixteen or seventeen. The three days between her booster and not taking the tablets will mimic her time of the month. We all know how that can be early on. So, a little understanding will go a long way towards convincing her she’s special, and at the same time, her perceived menstrual condition is normal in the grand scheme of things,” the doctor explained.
At dinner that evening, after Lisette and Cordelia had served, Madame Emily made an announcement.
“Miss Elaine and I were quite pleased with your behavior today, Cordelia. We’ve spoken to your mother and sister. They have agreed to grant you an audience with them in your sister Marie’s office, in the mansion’s west wing, one week from today, after lunch. You’ll be properly dressed, coiffed, made up and shod for the occasion,” explained Emily.
“I expect you to be on your best behavior Cordelia. This audience will go a long way towards you being re-introduced to the entire household as a Demoiselle and finally Mademoiselle Cordelia. I hope you understand the impact this meeting will have on your future prospects, young lady?” Miss Elaine, Cordelia’s tutor intoned.
“Yes ma’am, Miss Elaine, I fully understand. I promise on my honor as your obedient Demoiselle that I intend to be on my very best comportment,” Cordelia announced as she stood, curtseyed, and lowered her eyes and head, demurely.
“Very well young lady. I will take you at your word. Ladies, shall we retire to the parlor for an aperitif?” Miss Elaine asked.
Chapter III: Demoiselle Cordelia
The click-clack of three pairs of high heels sounded on the hardwood flooring in the west wing of the Bourbonnais mansion. Cordelia Antoinette Bourbonnais, accompanied by her tutor and governess minced along on her way to an official audience with her mother and sister, Misses Colette and Marie Bourbonnais.
It was Cordelia’s very first foray from her private quarters in the east wing, where she had been very carefully isolated with her mentors, Emily, Elaine and Lisette. In the scant period of slightly over one month these ladies had done wonders in the emasculation process of Cordelia Bourbonnais.
So much so, that during her frequent vivacious daydreaming, Cordelia now thought of nothing but feminine pastimes such as polishing her nails or whether or not to wear a green clay facial pack at bedtime. These results however had not come without much shame and corporal indignities at the expense of Cordelia.
Her first punishments, for rebelliousness, were over-the-knee, bare-bottom spankings. She kicked and screamed to the amusement of her tormentors. When the noncompliance continued, the bodily castigations became more severe. The indignity and mortification of being bent over at the waist, and having her wrists, fettered to her ankles was both alarming as well as distressing to Missy Cordelia.
As the strokes of the drilled, oaken, sorority paddle fell upon Cordelia’s behind, Cordelia’s disturbing shrieks of agony could ambiguously be witnessed in the south-wing servant’s quarters. “When all else fails”, was the assurance of Madame Emily, a Cassandra Sister, and a disciplinarian to the most supreme degree.
Upon the next occasion at which Cordelia resisted decidedly with her tutor and maid, the Governess Emily, spoke but three precise sentences. “In that case, the girl shall be caned. To the lacing bar with her, Lisette and Elaine. Manacle her wrists and ankles, and pin up her skirts,” Madame Emily ordered.
The sobbing wreck that was now a squirming, and very apologetic Cordelia Bourbonnais, begged her Governess to spare her. Her appeals fell on deaf ears. Emily Defarge drew great pleasure as she swished the supple cane through the air behind the begging and swaying Cordelia.
“This is one of the finest birch rods I have ever had the great pleasure of owning. It has brought to heel many of the most recalcitrant scions of England, the European Continent, Canada and even the United States. And you dear Missy, are to be no exception,” threatened Emily Defarge.
“You have ignored the spankings. Apparently, you have also forgotten the lessons that should have been learned from being paddled. But, in this case, I dare say you’ll never again look forward to a session with my precious cane, little girl. Prayers won’t help you at this stage. Nor will crying out for Mummy or Sister. No, no, my dear, you belong to me at this moment,” Emily warned.
“May the Goddess Quan Yin bestow her compassion upon you, Cordelia Bourbonnais,” said Emily Defarge as the first strike from the birch cane fell harshly across Cordelia’s thighs.
Her initial scream resonated throughout the walls of the stone mansion. At this juncture Emily Defarge cared little if she left “striping” upon the flesh of her indignant charge. Those stripes could be hidden by pantaloons and hobble skirts. The welts might be sufficiently soothed with cold cream or Vitamin E, Aloe Vera jelly.
Emily spared Cordelia little in the way of sympathy. As she’d said, she would leave that up to the Goddess Quan Yin. At this point, the only thing that might stop Emily Defarge would be an intercession by none other than Marie Bourbonnais, the sister of this rebellious supplicant.
Emily had considered six strikes with the cane when she began but settled on a seventh for good measure. She’d reached such a stage of expertise with the Birch, that she left behind only welts. No blood was drawn and hopefully there would be only minor bruising.
Cordelia’s shrieks had ended with the fourth stroke of the cane. For the last three, she had entered a state of idyllic swoon. Emily nodded to the tutor and maid.
“She’s all yours now. I took the liberty of placing the needed balms, creams, smelling salts and pain relief upon her bed. I’ll be in shortly to give her an injection for pain and to aid her in sleeping. We’ll need to routinely check upon her round the clock until morning. We shan’t need to go through this again. I can assure you of that,” nodded Emily as she casually left the lacing room.
Emily was absolutely correct. Cordelia would never forget that caning. It would never elude her memories. Though she’d occasionally childishly sob or whine, she’d never refuse or struggle against her impending emasculation. And in due time, such as the present, as she minced daintily along to an audience with Mummy and Big Sister, she would welcome her feminine fate.
Though the doorway was open, Emily knocked lightly, and then, she and Elaine entered. Emily had held her hand with one finger up, to keep Cordelia poised just outside the doorway and out of sight. Both ladies bowed and curtsied to the Misses Bourbonnais’.
“Well ladies, the moments of truth are upon us, non? I can’t wait to see Cordelia. How about you mother?” Marie asked.
“Yes, I’m very excited about my new daughter,” Collette chimed.
“Then ladies, please meet Miss Cordelia Antoinette Bourbonnais. Cordelia darling, please come into your sister’s office?” Ms. Emily requested.
Cordelia minced into Marie’s office. She stopped inside the door. She curtsied. “Mamma dearest. My dear sister Marie,” she said smiling, her teeth shining thru her gleaming lipstick, as might a beauty pageant contestant.
Then she pirouetted on no less than four-inch heels. She wore a fawn-colored pencil skirt, along with a high-neck, ruffled white blouse. Under the high, ruffled neck, was a tight posture collar. It held her head properly elevated.
Marie smiled, thinking that she’d look so very cute, kissing Etienne, as the tall male leaned over to place his mouth upon Cordelia’s shining, puckered lips. Cordelia’s waist was slimmed to twenty-four-inches with tight corset lacing. Her nail-extenders were beautifully polished with a crimson shade.
Her makeup was full and vivid, with creamy rose lipstick. She had slept the entire evening in tightly-rolled brush curlers, which gave her auburn colored, long-bob a “permed” look. Both Marie and Collette were quite impressed. Marie winked and nodded conspiratorially at Emily and Elaine. The two women smiled and left the room.
They would both be close by though, chatting with the household staff. Marie would contact them thru Emily’s cell-phone if needed. Marie motioned for her “sister” to be seated. “Mother, do you have anything you’d like to say to Cordelia?” Marie asked.
“Why yes. First, Cordelia dear, come over here and kiss your Mommy. Yes, that’s a good girl. And a kiss for your sister, also,” said Colette.
“I’ve missed both of you, Mommy and Marie for this past month. I want you to know I will do everything I can to make you very proud of me,” said Cordelia, smiling but sniffling slightly.
“Well yes. That is what I wanted to say to you, precious. Marie and I know that this has been very difficult for you. Learning how to be a girl. Plus becoming both a daughter and a sister to us. You’ve went through some very big changes and will be going through many more modifications in the near future,” Collette smiled at her younger daughter.
“However, from what your governess and tutor tell us, you have begun to behave and adjust quite nicely, of late. Yes, we know there were some rough spots along the way, but we are so very, very proud of the manner in which you have adapted most recently. Aren’t we Marie?” Collette asked.
“Yes, we are mother. You look just lovely today Cordelia. You are such a beautiful girl. I honestly don’t ever see you being allowed to be anything but a real girly-girl at this stage. You are too well-behaved, contented, and just so prim and proper. I shan’t permit it, and neither will mother,” Marie stated.
“You were just simply so terrible as a boy. Totally a failure really, darling. If you ever want to see a penny of your inheritance, I suggest you strive to be the best female you can be. By the way, I love your hair that way. The style, especially the curls are just superb. Did Miss Emily or Miss Elaine have someone give you a perm?” Marie asked.
“No. Last night before bedtime, Lisette and I set my hair on small brush rollers, with gooey, blue-tinted setting gel. I did most of the set. Ms. Elaine combed me out this morning. Marie, if I may say something, else?” Cordelia asked.
“Yes, I was a true problem at the start of my transformation. But I have now fully accepted it. I don’t want to be anyone other than Cordelia Bourbonnais. I feel I can be productive and an asset to our family, living the life of a female. And I am excited and hopeful for my future life now,” Cordelia stated.
“I am happy, contented, and willing to learn more about being a girl. And I want to assimilate myself back into our household and into our social set, whenever you and mother allow me to. I’m just not certain how to do that? Will you be telling everyone, that your sister Cordelia is a transgender?” Cordelia shrugged and threw up her hands.
Marie and Collette stared at each other. Collette, nodded to Marie as if to say, “Well, this is all your idea. Tell her your plan, if that’s what it is?”
“Now that you bring it up, I will reveal to you, what is fully behind our decision to feminize you. Besides, of course, your completely unacceptable behavior as an errant male. And please don’t take what I’m about to reveal to you as some sort of an excuse to rebel,” warned Marie.
As Marie began her discourse, Cordelia perched prettily in the comfortable chair she was seated in. Her hands were folded demurely in her lap. Collette looked at her new, very pretty, youngest daughter, quite proudly. Collette was immensely happy. This was all going to be so terribly wonderful.
Cordelia had been given such a wonderful start on being the “girly-girl” that Marie had always refused to be. Collette could not believe that Cordelia had already spent an evening in bed, sleeping, or trying to sleep, with her hair tightly rolled onto brush curlers. She even wondered if Cordelia had slept in a hairnet or scarf?
Collette planned on some sorely missed mother/daughter outings for lunch, charity events, the beauty salon and clothes shopping. She was going to make the best of this very prissy, prim daughter that she and Marie had fashioned so beautifully thus far. Oh, and the wedding she would plan!
She couldn’t wait to see Cordelia with an elegantly fashioned updo, and full bridal ensemble, walking down the aisle to marry Etienne. What a joyful day that would be to see her youngest daughter as a blushing, virgin bride.
As Marie continued her narrative, the very prim Cordelia tried not to act too awfully surprised. She squirmed slightly in her seat but did her best to listen intently and politely to her older and much wiser sister, Marie. When Marie finally reached the point where Cordelia was to be engaged and married to Etienne Marcoux, Cordelia gulped and closed her eyes.
However, she took a deep breath and remained calm, though she wanted to cry. She did not understand her emotions at this point. Then again, she did not fully realize how the dosages of female hormones were affecting not only her body but her personality.
Both Marie and Colette watched her closely, as Marie paused in her planned sequence of events. They were pleasantly surprised when all Cordelia did was raise her hand prissily, as if she were asking a classroom teacher, approval to converse.
“Yes, Cordelia, was there something you wanted to interject?” Marie asked.
“Well, if I could? So, my former self, Corneille, disappears in Europe with a girlfriend and a portion of his inheritance? I take it he doesn’t reappear, correct? And are you certain, Etienne will want to marry me?” Cordelia asked.
“As for Corneille, we haven’t thought that thru quite completely just yet. Yes, when Etienne sees you and meets you at your debut in the fall, we believe he will fall in love with you. Of course, his parents will exert some pressure on him. In spite of that, we just know the two of you will make a very romantic, lovely, blissfully joyful couple,” assured Marie.
“I see. Well, I can’t say, I’m completely thrilled with the entire scenario. But, I don’t see anyway around this. I’m assuming there is no planned sex change, is there? I’ll remain a boy, as far as my genitalia are concerned? Is that correct?” Cordelia asked.
“Yes, dear. That is true. As Etienne is a homosexual, I dare say he wouldn’t want you in any other way. He wouldn’t care for you to have a puss. No, he’ll desire you to be pretty, and have pert breasts, possibly. But he’ll want a penis between your legs. He’ll be interested in that, and having anal sex with you,” smiled Marie, to Cordelia’s mild chagrin.
“Excuse me Marie. Do you really have to be so graphic with her?” Colette asked.
“Mother. I simply want Cordelia to have a thorough understanding of what is expected of her. Cordelia, Etienne won’t just be interested in you because you’re such a beautiful girl. He will be intrigued because you are a lovely, feminized sissy and you belong to him as his bride,” explained Marie.
“This evening, Lisette will be prepping you to receive your first and smallest of various sized, rectal probes. They are referred to as butt plugs. You’ll be wearing one, much of the time. Over the coming weeks, the size of the plugs will grow larger,” Marie added.
“For the most part we want to widen your anal passage, so when Etienne finally takes your virginity on your wedding night, it won’t be so discomforting for you,” Marie smiled.
Cordelia was slightly overwhelmed by all this but was determined not to show it. She spoke in measured tones as the “audience” with her family was likely coming to an end.
“This has been quite an educational meeting for me. It has also been very pleasing at times just to be with you mother, and with you, my sister, Marie. I want you to know I fully intend to fulfill your expectations. I sincerely hope by the end of next month to be living in this same portion of the mansion with the rest of my family and the servant staff,” smiled Cordelia, cautiously.
“Cordelia, that is our also our plan. By the end of July, we want you with us too. Your current mentors have recommended a lady who will become a combination tutor/governess to you. Plus, we’ve chosen a young lady from our own household staff to be your lady’s maid,” smiled Cordelia’s mother, Collette.
“Well thank you mother. I’m so overjoyed you want me to be living with you soon. Is that what you desire, Marie?” Cordelia asked with some obvious emotion.
Realizing the critical importance of this moment and sensing her sister was somewhat disturbed by the impact of her expectations, Marie stood up and with outstretched arms, walked to her younger sister and lifted her to her feet. Marie embraced Cordelia and hugged her to her rather ample bosom.
“Yes, of course I want you with mother and I as part of our family, again. Don’t be silly darling. I love you. You are my sister. I want what is best for you, dearest Cordelia. That is what is behind our recent treatment of you dear. Mother and I want only the very, very best for you, princess,” said Marie as she held her younger sister tightly.
Cordelia sobbed, only slightly. “I’m just a little frightened of the future. Getting married seems like such a big decision,” Cordelia opined.
“Yes, it is, but mother and I will always be with you, to help things along and counsel you. Just trust us implicitly and the three of us will get thru everything together, angel,” spoke Marie.
“Now, darling. Why don’t I call Emily and Elaine and they can take you back to your lovely quarters and your maid Lisette can tend to you, my pet?” Marie asked.
Chapter IV: Mademoiselle Cordelia
The budding, young, Cordelia Bourbonnais was now ensconced in the main portion of the Bourbonnais mansion. She had her very own lovely suite of rooms. In addition to her ample wardrobe, she was now with her new maid, Melanie. Plus, her latest tutor/governess, a strict Dutch lady, Matron Greta Von Howland, was now in charge of her.
Cordelia took breakfast each morning with her mother Collette and her sister, Marie. After breakfast it was off to the office in Montreal for Marie. Cordelia would then have lessons with Matron Greta. A times though, Cordelia’s mother Colette might request that the Matron allow Cordelia time to spend with her.
“Later today my hairdresser is dropping by, Matron Greta. Around 1 PM. She is bringing an assistant. They are both very excited about meeting my soon-to-be adoptive daughter. I’d like Cordelia and I to be able to have our hair, nails and faces done together. Do you approve, Matron?” Collette asked.
“I absolutely approve, Madame Collette. It is so important during this transitionary time that you and Cordelia have mommy/little girl outings together. I’ll have her properly ready for some salon activity after luncheon, Madame,” Matron Greta stated.
By this time, Marie and Colette had strategically proliferated the prepared tale of Cordelia, among the gossipiest of their friends and associates. Throughout the high-society of Montreal, the rumor of the late Pierre Bourbonnais’ “love-child” had spread like wildfire. It was the talk of salons, drawing rooms, parlors, dress shops and charity events.
First sympathy and then praise, poured in to both Marie and Colette. Sympathy over Pierre’s embarrassing indiscretion, of course. Then praise as Marie and Collette had welcomed the girl into their home and family. Even more so as Collette planned on a full and legal adoption proceeding of the girl as her very own daughter.
At this point, Marie and Collette were grooming the girl for her station and debut into society as a Bourbonnais. When family-hired detectives had finally located the girl, she was in foster care and definitely not well-bred enough to take her place at a cotillion or a country club banquet.
“My husband’s last wishes were that his daughter be welcomed into our family. I know nothing of her mother, but I know she is Pierre’s child. For that reason alone, I will make her my daughter. Pierre obviously loved her as much as he could. He even named her after his mother,” declared Collette.
There was only mild sympathy for the temporary loss of their son and brother Corneille. Corneille, the cad, who was alleged to have absconded to Europe with a tart he’d met in the village nearby the university he’d been expelled from. Not too many people would miss Corneille for any length of time.
Both Collette and Marie were practically declared saints for their obvious charitable act. In another month, Collette and Marie planned to show off Cordelia at a soiree in their home. It was then, they hoped, with the right amount of persuasion, pressure and encouragement, that Cordelia and Etienne would become smitten with each other.
At the very moment in time when Collette and her new daughter, Cordelia were having their hair, faces and nails done, Etienne Marcoux was undergoing a conference of sorts with his parents, Briand and Odette. Etienne was most distressed that mummy and daddy knew of his flagrant homosexuality.
“How long have you known? I thought I had done so well to keep things clandestine?” Etienne asked, quizzically and dumbfounded.
“I cannot speak for your mother, but I suspected it when you were about twelve-years-old. You established the fact for me, the evening of your junior prom. You dropped your buxom, stunning date off right after the group banquet. Then you and your real lover and private school roommate, Percy, sauntered off together to an expensive hotel room,” Briand, Etienne’s father explained.
“I keep a small staff of detectives and attorney’s quite busy Etienne. It really cost me nothing to confirm your sexuality for certain,” Briand explained.
“You had me followed? You know all about Percy and me? And now, you expect me to wed the cross-dressed version of Corneille Bourbonnais? I can’t believe this?” Etienne, mewled.
“Yes, of course I had you followed. Do you think I want our family’s dirty laundry aired throughout Quebec? Seriously? I knew all about Percival from the time you began rooming together at prep school. And yes. You will wed the new, Cordelia Bourbonnais. Here are some recent glamour shots of her,” said Briand, tossing an envelope of photos to his mystified son.
“Open the packet, Etienne, you silly ass. She’s actually quite the looker. If I didn’t know she was a sissy, I might be interested myself. But she’s perfect for you my boy,” Briand laughed.
Etienne, looked over the photos, raising his eyebrows. “Hmm, yes, she is special. Hard to tell she was ever a boy. I always did find Corneille to be very pretty as young, slender boys went. Lovely thick hair, a slim waist, and pert, pubescent breasts. Very nice. He, or she, I should say, couldn’t be over twenty?” Etienne asked.
“Yes, nice and young and ripe. I like that. Certainly, better than a wedding with that fat cow, Marie, I should say. Cordelia will retain some of her boyish parts, I should hope?” laughed Etienne.
“Both of you, that is enough! I’m setting here listening to the lot of you discussing the attributes of two females. Well, in any event, one female and her cross-dressed and partly emasculated brother/sister. Please show some decency, boys,” mocked Odette Marcoux, Etienne’s mother.
“Your mother is correct. And Marie is hardly a fat cow. She is a vital, voluptuous female, in her sexual prime. She’d be all too much for a fairy like you, my boy. Yes. Cordelia will retain everything you’ll be interested in,” nodded Briand.
“Well then. When can I meet her? This seems to be settled and if it will help the family and make my parents happy, I will go thru with it,” nodded Etienne.
“Very well. Spoken like a true Marcoux. Odette. Can you ring the parlor maid? Let’s all have a drink on this,” suggested Briand.
______________________________________________________________
Both Colette Bourbonnais and her daughter Cordelia couldn’t be happier. For Colette, to be in the privacy of her own, home beauty salon having her face, nails and hair done, with her very girlish, vivacious daughter was simply priceless.
For Cordelia, such a wonderful pampering, while she and her mummy sipped wine and giggled, was the very life, which only her deep, inner, sub-conscious mind knew she had once dreamt of.
Gone, for the moment was the awful, agonizing stress of a former, failed life. No more worries of living up to her parents’ expectations, passing exams at school, trying to impress girls and begging for money from a trust fund.
Now Cordelia only needed to keep her “mummy” occupied with discussions of pretty dresses, new shoes, makeup and fashionable hairstyles. Presently, she even thought of her stern, late father as just “Daddy.”
Cordelia just adored the absolute comfort of being seated under the relaxing warmth of a whirring, domed hair dryer. With her hair in rollers, and the sweet scent of setting gel wafting about her tiny nostrils, she tittered delightfully.
Simply viewing her freshly polished pink fingernails, along with reading the latest issue of Glamour magazine, was a treat Cordelia now planned on savoring time and time again. “I only wish that someone could have told me how wonderfully delightful life as a rich, pampered girl could be?” Cordelia thought to herself.
“Could you tease me up and pile all the curls atop my pate, Leslie? I want to try some various updos in preparedness for my coming out, this fall. Oh, my mother, it’s nary but a month off isn’t it? Mother, do you think I should wear a modest high collar gown, or something off the shoulder and very daring?” Cordelia quizzed as she watched Leslie, her Coiffeuse, pin up and spray her dainty curls.
“The gown for your debut? I haven’t thought about that yet, dear. You and I will discuss that with your sister Marie and Matron Greta. It will probably be something between modest and risqué I would imagine,” smiled Collette.
Collette watched her daughter as Leslie the Coiffeuse painted soft pinks and rose shades around her cheeks and eyes. The new “do” and makeup truly flattered Cordelia’s pretty, angelic face. When Leslie had completed Cordelia’s makeover, the Coiffeuse bade Cordelia to stand and promenade over to a full-length mirror.
“Miss Cordelia could you strike various poses while you admire your reflection? I’d like to snap a few photos of you for my portfolio? Would that be appropriate to you, Ms. Collette? Might I photograph your daughter for my professional collection, Madame?” Leslie asked.
“Why of course Leslie. As long as you send me the ones you like the best. Cordelia. Please pose nicely for Leslie dear? That’s a good girl, sweetie. Isn’t she lovely, Andrea?” Collette asked the hairdresser who was styling her own hair.
Andrea, who had been Collette’s personal hairdresser for a number of years leaned over and in sotto voce said to Collette, “I cannot believe the striking resemblance Cordelia bears to your late husband and your daughter Marie. It is uncanny Madame.”
“Yes, it is Andrea. And to think that a scant few days after my thoughtless son estranged himself from his family, this angel, Cordelia, agrees to honor Pierre’s wishes and become a significant part of our family. I believe it could only be an act of Providence my dear Andrea,” said Colette, solemnly.
“Oh, yes ma’am, Ms. Colette. You are so very wise to believe so. I agree with you most wholeheartedly, ma’am. Indeed, she is a vision of loveliness. An angel in the flesh madame,” Andrea, agreed.
That evening, during her bath, Cordelia wore a shower cap to protect her new hairdo. As her maid, Melanie, toweled her dry and powdered her, Cordelia fitted her lovely new “do” with a hairnet for sleeping. Now in her panties, bra and sleeping robe, Cordelia laid face down on her bed, with a pillow lifting her buttocks, for easy access to her lady’s maid’s nightly ministrations.
For at this time, Cordelia would once again undergo the ignominy of having her butt plug reinserted. Our young “princess” had been enduring this annoyance since the evening of her first “audience” with her sister and mother after her transformation into Cordelia.
Not only was her maid, Melanie responsible for this task, she also saw to it that her young lady was also given at least, weekly colonics and enemas to keep her rectal passage fresh and clean. Melanie had become quite skillful at lubing the girl’s anus, along with inserting the well-oiled plug or an enema nozzle.
“Please do relax miss. It will only take me a few scant seconds to do this. Over the past weeks your passage has widened considerably ma’am. In fact, I should very likely speak with your sister and with Matron in reference to moving to the next larger sized plug. You’ve dilated quite nicely Mademoiselle Cordelia,” explained the maid as she slowly rotated the plug into Cordelia’s rectum.
“There we are miss. All nice, tight and seated properly. I’ll put your panties back on you now, miss. Very nice. I do hope you sleep comfortably Mademoiselle Cordelia,” said Melanie as she planted a light, teasing kiss on the lips of the pretty nineteen-year-old sissy.
Cordelia found her maid very attractive. She truly wished there was more to their relationship than the occasional, sweet, sisterly kiss at bedtime. Ever since Etienne and his parents had discussed a marriage between Cordelia and Etienne, the gynecologist had been instructed to terminate the usage of the Testosterone blockers once given to Cordelia.
Cordelia was now only receiving her daily hormone tablets and monthly estrogen boosters. It would be enough to give her a pert pubescent bosom and girlishly rounded hips. She could still get a passable erection. Apparently, that is what Etienne desired in his future wife. A modestly working penis.
But Melanie, Cordelia’s maid, was having none of that. If indeed, Cordelia awoke with an erection, Melanie crossed her arms over her chest and gestured to Cordelia’s private bath. “Please, if you would, Mademoiselle Cordelia. I’d prefer that you retire to your bath and administer a quiet milking to your distended penis,” Melanie requested.
“You are not some effeminate, petticoat wearing, juvenile sissy-boy just entering puberty. You are quite nearly twenty-years-old. I’m not going to milk you, Mademoiselle. You will have to care for that on your own, please,” added Melanie emphatically.
In any event, Cordelia would take a jar of cold cream into her private bath and masturbate herself, while thinking of the buxom maid in the next room. Even though Cordelia still had sexual attractions to females, she had begun to fantasize about sex with men.
Her governess and tutor, Matron Greta, had begun to make her read and report on, female romance novels, where the heroine fell in love with a handsome, dashing stranger. Additionally, Cordelia and her maid Melanie, would stay up evenings, setting each other’s hair and watching very tender, amorous movies with the same starry-eyed, Victorian theme.
By now, Cordelia would begin to feel a stirring in her panties, whenever the dashing male paramour would take his adoring, lovestruck maiden into his arms and carry her off to bed her lustily. Cordelia’s panties would moisten further as the love scenes became more intense.
Cordelia now knew, from looking at photographs of her erstwhile fiancé, Etienne, that she found him very attractive and equally gallant. At times, especially when reading her love narratives, Cordelia could now substitute herself and Etienne for the devoted, passionate couples in these lust-filled works of fiction.
As the lovemaking scenes ensued, she would reach within her nightgown and fondle her penis tenderly. Cordelia would close her vivacious blue eyes and picture the tall, handsome Etienne. She would massage her penis using her favorite masturbation lubricant, moist, facial cold cream.
From her penis she would spread the cold cream to her balls. She would gently squeeze her balls as she rubbed her penis. She would picture Etienne kissing her lipstick coated mouth fiercely and squeezing her breasts. She would playfully giggle and reach for his large penis.
For whatever reason, Cordelia pictured her lean, fine-looking Frenchman with a very manly cock. She knew, even if she sucked his cock, he would likely want to eventually put it into her plump rectum. From what Matron Greta had told her of the marital relationship Cordelia would have with Etienne, Etienne would be her husband and “master.”
“Whatever Etienne desires of you, you will do for him Cordelia. He will care for you as if you were a helpless, indulged child. You in turn, will do everything he requires of you. From looking beautiful for him, to preparing his meals or ironing his clothes. You will be his wife, his concubine and his love slave, Cordelia,” Matron Greta expounded.
Cordelia loved the sound of that. She would have to decide nothing for herself. Etienne would think for her and tell her what she should do. “How wonderful that will be,” thought Cordelia as she stroked her hardening penis and dreamed of Etienne’s cock in her buttocks.
Before he would put his man-thing between her ass crack though, she would first, suck it. She would slurp it until it was juicy and rock hard and ready for her anus. Then Etienne would enter her from behind and begin to hump her. “Oh, my love, Etienne,” Cordelia whispered to herself as she increased the tempo of her bedtime masturbation.
As she touched herself more vigorously, she would squeeze her butt cheeks tightly around her anal plug and imagine it to be Etienne’s rock-hard boner. As she tightened her butt muscles, tears would come to her eyes and she would begin to pant.
Then when she could take it no longer, she would whimper, “Oh my big strong man Etienne, please ravage me, my darling? Make me your woman, you manly stud!”
Then and only then would Cordelia’s penis cream explode into her silky panties, filling her lacy dainties full of her gooey ejaculate. She would gasp and pant until she was spent, whispering out loud, “Etienne, oh my wonderful Etienne. Please fill my anus with the hot, juicy sperm from your hardened man-meat!”
With that, our dreamy little girly-girl, Cordelia would drift off to a blissful sleep, secure that one day, her Etienne would marry her and make her his fulfilled bride. She was certain, that upon her coming out debut, she would meet him and seduce him. This allowed her to sleep the contended slumber of the fairy princess she dreamed she would one day become.
Chapter V: Frilly, Flighty and Fully Feminized
By early evening, Cordelia Antoinette Bourbonnais would be surrounded by guests, both male and female, desiring to see and meet the “love-child” of Pierre Bourbonnais’ extra-marital indiscretion. Many of the female guests would be erstwhile, sister debutantes looking to encounter men and boys for romance. The “coming out” party would be held at the Bourbonnais mansion.
Additional guests would be the parents of those young ladies’ and young males’, or the colleagues of Marie and Collette Bourbonnais. For the most part Cordelia was prepared to be sociable to everyone. However, she wanted to impress Etienne, and his parents most of all. She was aware of her role. Her mother, sister, maid and governess had schooled her in this task, time and time again.
She was to circulate among her guests and entertain. She should flirt with the young boys. None of the added female Debs would be over seventeen and the boys wouldn’t be over twenty. Besides his father, Etienne would be the only real man there, as he was nearly twenty-nine.
Once she was introduced to Etienne and his parents she was never to leave their side, until Etienne suggested a walk in the garden. By then it would be late enough that in an hour or so, the guests would begin to depart.
As the guests began to set out, she would be called to the drawing room to bid them adieu. By the time all of the guests, including Etienne’s parents had left the mansion, Cordelia would be alone with Etienne, her own family, as well as her maid and governess. She and Etienne would be free to go to her boudoir for an entire evening of lovemaking.
As Cordelia was being prepared for the evening by her maid, Melanie, the excitement was stimulating. Cordelia was as tightly corseted as she’d ever been. The figure training waist-cinch pushed her boobs into an uplifted vivacity. Her midriff was dramatically slenderized to a coquettish twenty-two inches.
Her hips, though not plump, were now rounded just enough to attract the lascivious eyes of any male within viewing distance. She was carefully tucked by her governess, then fitted with a snug panty-girdle, prior to her seamed hose being attached. No hint of a “boyish” bulge would be evidenced.
Stepping into a pair of elevated, five-inch satin pumps, she stood stock still as she was carefully buttoned into a gleaming, red velvet, calf-length, high-necked, hobble gown, with a posture collar. She seated herself delicately in front of her mirrored vanity, as Leslie, her personal Coiffeuse positioned herself behind Cordelia.
As Leslie removed Cordelia’s hairnet, Cordelia’s governess, Matron Greta, spoke to the stylishly attired Mademoiselle. “Mademoiselle Cordelia. Your maid Melanie will place Monsieur Etienne’s weekend luggage in your boudoir shortly after his parents arrive. Melanie will also have to divest you of your foundation garments prior to the Monsieur bedding you,” Greta paused, letting that thought sink in.
“That will entail your Monsieur needing to seat himself in the hall until you are presentable for the evening’s nocturnal activities. He will be aware of what is expected of him. You require only to place yourself in Melanie’s able hands, and then the very experienced hands of the handsome Monsieur,” smiled Greta.
“Yes, ma’am, my Matron. Thank you so very much. A flamboyant upsweep if you please Leslie? And dramatic evening makeup, my able Coiffeuse,” said Cordelia, as Leslie began to unpin the elaborate “stacked” roller set she had given to Cordelia that morning at the salon.
Cordelia smiled kittenishly as Leslie expertly fashioned an impressive assemblage of Grecian barrel curls and spiraled waves into Cordelia’s striking titian tresses. Next, Leslie turned the swiveled chair Cordelia was seated in, so that the lovely Mademoiselle was facing Leslie. The posture collar, perfect wear for a girl to be kissed by a taller man, also put Cordelia in the flawless position for an artistic application of cosmetics.
Using her vast array of brushes, wands, puffs and tubes, Leslie spectacularly enriched all of the very exquisite Cordelia’s, exceptionally fine facial qualities. She impeccably blended lipstick, blush, shadow, mascara, foundation, powder and pencil into a glamourous, vivid display of colorful hues, designed to entice the admiration of males and females alike.
When posed in front of a full-length looking glass, Cordelia gasped noticeably before batting and lowering her eyes. Turning to Leslie, Melanie and Matron Greta, Cordelia glanced at her perfectly manicured and polished, long nails, and said, “Ladies, I feel so ready to meet our guests. Shall we proceed?”
About one hour later, Cordelia’s mother and sister, both lavishly coifed and attired, came to call on Cordelia to make her entrance. “Our guests are all gathered to meet you princess. Please follow your sister and me down the stairway?” Collette asked.
Cordelia gracefully descended the spiral stairway to the landing just above the ballroom where the visitants were gathered. Her mother and sister Marie stood on either side of her. “Ladies, gentleman and honored callers, I’d like to proudly present and introduce, my daughter, Mademoiselle Cordelia Antoinette Bourbonnais,” smiled Collette Bourbonnais.
As the visitors looked up in anticipation, and politely clapped, Cordelia dipped into an elegant curtsey that would have rendered any finishing school headmistress enormously delighted. Smiling and gliding as would a beauty pageant contestant, Cordelia further descended the remainder of the staircase to daintily sashay into the center of the assembled crowd.
From the moment she had curtseyed to the instant she faced her audience, Cordelia reveled in the obvious purrs and whispers of delight heard throughout the room. Just behind and beside her, Cordelia’s mother and sister were so pleased with this ginger-haired picture of elegance, which Cordelia, their daughter and sister, so effortlessly and gracefully portrayed.
The transformation conducted by the Bourbonnais ladies and their carefully assembled organization of doyens couldn’t have been more impeccably accomplished. Cordelia was absolutely magical as she floated among the gathered quests, bowing, curtseying, and daintily taking the hands of people within her fingerless gloves.
From time to time, she glanced and then winked at Etienne and his impressed parents. When the time was upon them, Marie took her sister by the hand and said, “Come with me darling. I have some very important and dear friends that you must meet. Cordelia, these people are some of the most precious relations our family has,” smiled Marie.
“Meet Monsieur Briand Marcoux and his wife, Odette Marcoux. And this is their handsome son, Etienne. Gentlemen and Lady, this is my elegant younger sister, Cordelia Antoinette Bourbonnais,” said Marie, proudly.
Cordelia responded perfectly. She curtsied delightfully. She took the hand of Odette, who embraced Cordelia and said, “I must hug you angel. You have made your mother so very happy. You look most lovely, darling.”
“Thank you, Madame Odette,” Cordelia said bowing. Then she extended her limp hand to Briand, who kissed it so elegantly.
Lastly, she smiled at Etienne and again extended a limp wrist to him, saying, “And hello to you, Monsieur Etienne. I am so delighted to make your acquaintance, sir.”
“And you my lovely Mademoiselle Cordelia. Won’t you stay and chat with us?” Etienne asked as her kissed her hand.
While Cordelia was chatting with the Marcoux family, her mother, Collette, walked over to join them. At that moment Odette took Colette off to the side.
“Collette. What an amazing job. She is an absolute delight. How did you do this? It is quite the accomplishment. She must be a joy as a daughter, isn’t she? So sweet, prim and proper. What elegance, Collette. Please share her with me Collette? I envy you so. I never had a daughter Collette. And one so very lovely!” Odette smiled.
“Of course, we can share her, Odette. She belongs to us. And yes, it has been a joy. We’ve been doing so many mommy/daughter things together. We had our hair done together, today at Claire’s salon. Cordelia simply adores the beauty parlor. You must take her with you, the next time you go!” Collette said excitedly.
“I cannot believe what a girly-girl she is. She loves wearing pretty dresses, glam shoes and makeup. So different from her sister Marie. Marie is very stylish, but not prissy and fussy about her clothing and hair like Cordelia is,” exclaimed Collette.
At this point, Etienne cleared his throat and asked Cordelia, “I have not been to this wonderful estate is such a long time. Do you know the grounds well enough that you could take a walk with me outside in the gardens, Mademoiselle Cordelia?”
“Yes, I do Monsieur Etienne. Please, take my arm and accompany me, sir,” said Cordelia.
When the couple did get outside, Cordelia took Etienne to the side of the estate, near an alcove just below the balcony to her boudoir. They stopped and Etienne, took a hold of Cordelia and turned her to him.
“You are more enchanting than I ever truly imagined you could be. In your photos you were glamourous. But in the flesh, you are most stunning. I can’t believe you are the same person? Yes, you were a very pretty sensual boy at one time. But as a female you are a virtual enchantress,” gushed Etienne.
“Well, I am no longer that boy person and I never want to be him, ever again, Etienne. Please try and never think or speak of me as such. I am a female person now. A girly-girl. Yes, I have some boy parts, but I have breasts, and soft pretty skin, and I have spent the entire day making myself beautiful for you,” said Cordelia.
“I want to be loved as a girl, as a female, please?” I want to be held lovingly and romantically kissed and fondled. I want to be in the arms of a strong man and cuddled and pampered, like a woman is treated. Because the womanly parts of me, within and about me, are what I want to be treasured for,” pronounced Cordelia.
“Yes, I know. I will try to never think of or mention you as anyone but a female, Cordelia. You are so very lovely. I cannot wait to be alone with you, my princess,” stated Etienne.
“If you mean alone in my boudoir, that will happen soon enough. For now, though, we are still alone, my handsome suitor. So please, kiss me. Kiss me and hold me to your body and feel my sumptuous, girlish figure, please?” Cordelia asked as Etienne took her into his arms and their mouths met, passionately.
The kiss was long, demanding and fulfilling. Both lovers had been fantasizing about the other for weeks. Now the moment was upon them. As they parted from their kiss Etienne held his vision of loveliness, with her ginger tresses, at arms-length to take in a view of her.
That moment was broken by a buzz from Cordelia’s beaded clutch which she held in her dainty left hand. “That would be my sister, Marie. It is likely a text telling us that the first guests are departing. Yes, come with me love. I must begin to see the guests off,” said Cordelia.
“When the last of our visitors have departed, you and I will go with my maid to the floor where my boudoir is located. While she removes my foundation garments, you might have a beverage of your choice, if you care to. You may await me in the den outside my boudoir,” explained Cordelia.
“I’ll have a double bourbon if you don’t mind, Mademoiselle Cordelia,” said Etienne.
“No, I won’t mind at all. I can imagine I’ll find you very sexy with just a hint of alcohol on your breathe. As long as you can maintain a rock-hard erection between your legs I’ll be quite happy, my dear,” teased Cordelia.
With the last attendees on their way home, Cordelia and her maid Melanie arrived in Cordelia’s boudoir. Etienne sat in the den sipping a double Bourbon. Quickly, Melanie assisted Cordelia with the removal of her gown, corset, hosiery and panty-girdle.
“Miss Cordelia. Please wear your brassiere and panties, along with your pumps. They’ll perfectly match the India Red, silk and satin chemise I have laid out for you. Shall I remove the butt plug from your entryway Mademoiselle? Please lay face down on your bed ma’am. There, that wasn’t so bad was it?” Melanie asked as she removed Cordelia’s anal dilator.
“I will leave you now ma’am and inform your handsome Monsieur Etienne that you are prepared for him,” added Melanie.
Cordelia had just completed freshening her bright titian lipstick when Etienne entered the room. She’s also unpinned her barrel curls and dainty spirals to give her tresses that “I need to be fucked right now” look. She bade Etienne to seat himself in a chair as she removed his shoes, slacks, jacket, shirt, and tie.
“Your luggage for the weekend is here darling. Melanie placed your toiletries in the bath and your black satin pajamas are here on the bed. Would you like me to dress you in your jammies my love? No? Well then please stand for me?” Cordelia asked.
“Very good Etienne. Now, if you don’t mind? I’ll help you step out of your underwear so as I can kneel on the floor in front of you and suck your cock. Would you like a nice blow job, my prince and master? That’s wonderful darling. I thought you would,” smiled Cordelia as she knelt at the naked Etienne’s feet and took his already, somewhat erect penis into her moist mouth.
She looked up at Etienne, occasionally, with her big, sultry, sexy, sky-blue eyes, as she sucked his growing cock. Etienne was absolutely thrilled by Cordelia’s sensual ministrations. Looking down at her he couldn’t conceive of possibly being more fortunate.
Here he was with this slender sylph of a pretty, auburn haired sissy boy, who was kneeling at his feet giving him a sensuous blow job. This darling sissy had beautifully curled coppery tresses and a pert set of tits pushing against a tight uplift bra. This emasculated little morsel wore a lavish red chemise that hugged his nicely curved butt.
The same lovely butt-cheeks that would soon be tightly clenched around Etienne’s swollen penis. His lovely sissy lover wore full makeup and a sexy pair of tall spike heels as well. As he tangled his fingers in Cordelia’s gorgeously coiffed mane, Etienne thought, “Who needs a lisping, whining, Nancy-boy like my prep school lover, Percy, when I have this wonderful cock-sucking, high-heel wearing slut to make love to me?”
Etienne was ready to explode when he felt Cordelia release his penis from her sucking mouth and lips. “Lover, why don’t I get both of us lubed up, so you can screw me, my master? Let me put some jelly on your cock and into my rectum. Then I’ll kneel submissively on the bed for you?” Cordelia asked.
Once Cordelia had her and her partner well-lubricated, she dutifully knelt on the bed, and wiggled her ass. “If you want me doggie style Etienne, here I am. I’m your sexy, sissy French-Poodle for the evening. I’ll even squeal like a little sissy-bitch, bow-wow for you,” Cordelia giggled.
Etienne was infatuated with this hot little sexy bitch. He climbed atop the bed and slowly entered Cordelia, gripping her now naked bosom for leverage. Cordelia cooed with delight. “Oh, that is it Etienne. Push a little harder darling and come all the way inside of me,” she gasped.
“Yes, there we are. Oh, that feels so nice, bumping against my prostate, my love. Fuck me nice and slow darling. Let the sensuous feelings linger. Draw it all out for our maximum pleasure, together. Oh yes!” Cordelia sighed.
Etienne intended to exploit this evening and beyond. Marriage to this delightful sex-crazed angel would be delicious. “All she cares to do is to look pretty for me and to please me. What man in his right mind wouldn’t love that?” Etienne thought as he pumped his dick in and out of Cordelia’s lovely ass.
Etienne now moved both his arms around to Cordelia’s svelte waist. He anchored himself with his left hand against her very tight, flat abdomen. With his right hand he gripped her modestly erect penis. With the light amount of sperm dripping from her cock and some spittle from his own mouth, Etienne was able to moisten her erection.
“Oh, my goodness, Etienne my love. That feels so very nice. Thank you for touching me there, you darling, strong, masculine man. Oh, gracious me, how lovely!” Cordelia explained.
“Think nothing of it, my dearest Cordelia. What man wouldn’t take the time to finger his lady’s clitoris? This is your clitoris you know, don’t you darling? From now on, when we make love, we will refer to this fleshy organ as your clit. Girl’s don’t have penises, do they Cordelia? They have clit’s. This is your clitoris, isn’t it Cordelia?” Etienne asked as he squeezed Cordelia’s cock.
“Yes, of course, Etienne my love. I am a girl and you are touching my clitoris darling. What else would it be called? After, all I am not a boy. I am a sissy, a girl sissy, for that matter,” Cordelia whimpered as Etienne continued to massage her erection and ram his penis into her well-oiled ass cheeks.
The young lovers were both into the throes of extreme sexual hunger. There really wasn’t anywhere for either of them to go then to finally explode. They had both drained this moment for all they could consume. Cordelia was so very excited, she began to shimmy, whimper and shake.
When Etienne finally began to disburse his hot seed into Cordelia’s anus he let out a manly grunt, and a shove, that shook Cordelia to her core. Cordelia began to moan and whinny as her ejaculate spurted into the air and onto the bedsheets. The warm, moist sperm in her rectum warmed Cordelia’s girlish essence deep within her, right to the center of her very feminine heart.
She flushed, and she embraced the cool chills that permeated her lithe body. Oh, what she wouldn’t do to continue doing this again and again? She never knew lovemaking could be so especially soulful and fulfilling? What a masterful lover her man Etienne was. So dynamic and caring.
Cordelia collapsed to the bed, in ecstasy. Etienne massaged her buttocks as her clenching ass released his dripping penis. Etienne knelt over the top of Cordelia’s collapsed frame and kissed her deeply. Later, Cordelia would sit on the bidet and squeeze as much of Etienne’s sperm from her ass as she could.
Possibly Sunday afternoon she could give herself a fragrant rectal douche? For the time being she returned to her boudoir and washed Etienne’s penis with a warm wet cloth. Then she dried it and dressed him in his black, satin pajamas. In the morning she would awaken first.
She carefully took Etienne’s cock into her mouth and sucked him dry. Swallowing all his sperm, she brushed her teeth and returned to her bed.
“Darling, would you like me to have Melanie bring us breakfast in bed, this morning? Then after we’ve eaten I’ll get you hard again, sit down on your penis, and screw you. Would you enjoy that love? Cordelia asked sensuously as she kissed Etienne.
“Yes, of course. Breakfast in bed, sounds wonderful and another nice screw sounds just lovely angel. Please bear with me just a moment. I am slightly unprepared as I haven’t even purchased a ring. I had no idea I’d be asking this question so soon,” Etienne paused.
“But, I will purchase the loveliest engagement ring for you, that I possibly can afford. Will you do me the honor of marrying me, Cordelia?” Etienne asked, kneeling on the bed. Cordelia smiled pleasantly.
“Of course, I will Etienne. I thought you would never ask? Don’t be concerned about the ring. We can go purchase it together next week. I’d adore picking it out with you. Then we can announce the blessed news to our parents. For now, let me locate Melanie for our breakfast. As soon as we eat, I’ll give you the best suck and fuck you’ve ever experienced love,” Cordelia promised.
Chapter VI: Mrs. Cordelia Bourbonnais-Marcoux
The wedding ceremony was quite traditional. Though, Cordelia and Etienne had been prepared by Matron Greta and Marie Bourbonnais to be ready to take special private vows prior to the reception at the Bourbonnais estate. Those would be the vows of a Cassandra sissy bride to bind her to her male master.
The wedding party arrived while the guests were being seated at the banquet tables. Cordelia and Etienne were ushered into a private vestibule isolated from the invited attendees. Sister Marie, Mother Collette and Mother-in-law Odette were all present. Matron Greta, a Cassandra High Priestess would preside.
Etienne was mildly in suspense over all the secrecy and mysticism but delighted that his bride was about to pledge her full, lifelong subservience to him, as her husband and master. Cordelia looked no less than stunning. Her coppery tresses had been highlighted with medium blond streaks. The evening before her hair had been set with styling gel.
Her locks had been wound tightly on small perm rods and Bobbie pins. Her gingery mane now sported tight little curlicues and divinely feminine spirals. Her hair had been pulled back from her face in an elaborate curly chignon. Her face had been painted into a vivid masque of bright pastels. Cordelia was perched on five-inch pumps, wearing a white, strapless, fish-tail wedding gown.
Between the restrictive gown and her tall heels, Cordelia could barely walk with anything more than a very babyish mince, with a delightfully effeminate wiggle. She held her bouquet of Baby’s Breathe. Perched atop her glam head of cute curls, she wore a dainty “Tea Party” hat, festooned with feathers and set off with a white satin band.
Attached to the hat was a Bird-cage veil. For the now private ceremony, Cordelia was the only participant to be made to kneel. A portable church kneeler had been provided. Etienne stood at Cordelia’s side. Madame Greta stood in front of Cordelia. Beside Madame Greta was Cordelia’s sister, Marie.
Behind Cordelia was her mother, Collette and her Mother-in-law, Odette. Both mothers held drilled, oaken paddles, monogrammed with black roses, in their hands. Matron Greta, reading from a text, began to speak.
“Honored Cassandra Sisters. We are here, to make certain that this marriage between Master Etienne and Slave Maiden Cordelia is sanctified by the Goddess Aphrodite. First, Etienne, do you agree to care for your wife and slave maiden, Cordelia as if she were a helpless child, unable to care for or think for herself?” Matron Greta asked.
“Do you intend to discipline her when needed, even administering very well-deserved corporal punishment or bondage, if found necessary? In your absence or your stead, do you also place her discipline in the hands of her mother, her sister and your mother, as well as the Cassandra Sisterhood?” Matron Greta added.
“Yes, Matron Greta. I vow to make certain that her training as a subservient Mademoiselle shall continue throughout our marriage together. She will obey, serve and submit to me and all parties that I place in control of her,” said Etienne.
“Sissy Slave Maiden Cordelia. Do you pledge to love, honor and of course obey your Husband and Master Etienne as if he owned you as his very own personal property? Do you also pledge to keep yourself, slender, beautiful, well-coiffed, made up and sexy for your Master? To clean his home, prepare his meals, wait on him hand and foot, and provide sex for him and anyone else he designates, in any manner he commands?” Matron Greta stated.
“Lastly do you vow to obey your Master, Sister, Mother, Mother-in-law and the entire Cassandra Society as long as you live, realizing you have no rights of appeal whatsoever?” Matron Greta concluded.
“Yes, I do Matron Greta. On my honor and under the deserved penalties of very severe corporal disciplinary action and/or bondage,” swore Cordelia.
“Very well then. Sisters Odette and Colette. Please paddle this supplicant to remind her of the penalties that will await her if she fails to comply with her vows. Three simultaneous strikes with each paddle, upon her respective butt cheeks, ladies,” Matron Greta commanded.
Luckily for Cordelia it was impractical to raise her fishtail gown. Thusly, the blows her mother and mother-in-law provided fell upon her gown, plus her panty girdle thickness, and were modestly softened compared to blows that would fall on a naked, exposed buttocks.
The total of six, two-handed paddle strikes still stung. Plus, the eerie chant of “Hail Cassandra, Hail Aphrodite, Hail the Sisterhood,” resonated with each stroke. Cordelia was then allowed to rise, bow to each participant, thank them and then kiss her new Master, Etienne.
After dutifully touching up her lipstick she continued on to the lovely wedding reception her mother and sister had planned. Cordelia danced with quite a few of the men at the ceremony, including her father-in-law Pierre. Of course, Pierre found her attractive, even though he knew, underneath all the perfume, powder and paint, that this was a pretty sissy boy that his son had married.
That evening, the newly-wedded couple slept under the roof of the Marcoux estate for the very first time. Odette would loan Cordelia one of her maids until she could personally hire a maid to care for her new Daughter-in-law.
In the morning the newlyweds were taken to a private airfield where they boarded a corporate jet to take them to the island of Martinique for their honeymoon. From the Martinique airport they were sped by limousine to a lavish honeymoon cottage on an exclusive, sequestered resort. Cordelia fell in love with both the lodgings as well as the sumptuous resort.
Everything was included there. Besides the elegant residence, there were sandy, empty beaches for the exclusive use of guests only. Restaurants, horseback riding, a health club, massage, a full spa and salon, clothing stores, boutiques, and nearly everything a wealthy young female such as Cordelia could desire.
Most of all, she was with her handsome, manly husband Etienne, who she very much desired to please. After the early morning flight, they had napped and ate at one of the restaurants. Then Cordelia asked Etienne if he would enjoy a walk on the beach, in their swimming attire?
Etienne wore swimming trunks, along with sandals and a beach style shirt. Cordelia wore a two-piece lady’s swimsuit, wedge-heel sandals and a flowered beach wrap. She was carefully tucked in case they might run into any other guests of the resort.
Cordelia brought along a beach bag. Etienne carried a blanket, and a small carry bag. At long last they found a cute little cove where they could sit privately and enjoy sipping the cognac which Cordelia had placed in her beach bag. Though they first sat on the blanket, Cordelia spotted a bench, formed from a rocky ledge a few feet away.
“Let’s sit there on the bench right there darling. It’s so secluded in the side of that rock formation. Isn’t this just so lovely and romantic?” asked Cordelia, whispering girlishly, as they sat, sipped cognac, and snuggled together.
It was difficult for Cordelia to be in such an intimate setting, cuddling with her husband, to not become aroused. As she poured Etienne another relaxing drink of Cognac, she reached inside his swim trunks and grabbed his penis. She’d squirted a small amount of sex-lube onto the tips of her beautifully manicured fingers.
Etienne couldn’t resist the sexual nurturing of his bride. He was very soon fully erect. When Cordelia fell to her knees on the blanket she instantly took his cock into her mouth. Her robe came open and Etienne could see the tops of her breasts protruding from her bikini. As Cordelia sucked, she made little submissive gurgling noises that pleased her husband to no end.
“Etienne, my love, could we make love here, in this lovely alcove on this glorious beach? The sun will be going down soon. No one will see us? Please darling? You can continue to sit where you are. I’ll simply lubricate my bum-bum, and lower myself on top of you, my handsome lover,” whispered Cordelia.
Etienne just adored the sense of adventure in this little minx. He couldn’t resist, especially if the outcome was his spent seed warming the insides of his bride’s rectal cavity. He hissed out a “Yes my love,” and removed his shorts completely.
Cordelia divested herself of her beach robe, bikini bottom and her penis gaff. She squirted lubricant from an applicator tube to coat Etienne’s shiny, stiff cock and her eager rectum. Now Cordelia slowly, but eagerly lowered herself down onto Etienne’s strong piece of man-meat. She dearly relished the way it impaled her and made her feel that she was all his to screw for his decadent pleasure.
Etienne had never known the sexual excitement with any of his Nancy-boys, that he had already experienced with this lusty, juicy, emasculated sissy. Compared to this ginger-haired sex-goddess, Etienne’s prep school and university love-interest, Percival, was a complete prissy, prude.
Cordelia never said “no” to any sort of lovemaking or sexual situation. In fact, as soon as the couple awoke in the morning, Cordelia would ask Etienne if he wanted a blow job. “Would you like me to suck your dick or get you your breakfast, my master?” Cordelia would ask sweetly.
No sooner than was Cordelia fully planted upon Etienne’s strong cock, that she began to move up and down upon it, stimulating them both even more. Etienne loved the fact that his new wife also had a penis. He did not ever want to be married to a full transsexual. That would ruin everything.
Having this femininely adorned, emasculated, sissy plaything as a wife was more than Etienne could have ever dreamed of. In fact, she was perfect, and he wanted her to remain just as she was. If his mother wanted grandchildren, that’s what adoption agencies were for. To give disadvantaged children a wealthy home where they were welcome.
The closer Etienne got to a climax, the more he wanted his sluttish wife to orgasm with him. He had taken hold of Cordelia’s “clitoris” and was moving his hand up and down it’s shaft to stimulate it. Cordelia cooed in delight, like the angel that she was.
However, it was Etienne applying pressure to her prostate, and the warm, gooey feeling from his spurting ejaculate that finally brought an eruption to Cordelia’s sissy clit. Cordelia literally screamed in frenzy as her rectum flooded with Etienne’s sperm and her milky discharge oozed to the floor of the sandy beach.
She bounced giddily, up and down upon Etienne’s strong, massive cock. She loved this cock. She loved it in her hands, between her lips and up inside her tight rectum. Though she would gladly explore SRS and even getting a pussy for him, that was not what her master wanted her to do.
Cordelia knew that if they ever adopted any offspring, she would always fantasize that they had come from her imaginary womb and that they were children from Etienne’s manly seed. Cordelia’s bikini top had come loose. Etienne now fondled her demure breasts as she still sat on his lap.
His penis had withdrawn from her ass, thru shrinkage. It didn’t matter, as the balmy, runny, spent sperm still dripped from Cordelia’s butt. She finally stood up, kissed her man, and wet a rag with a tilted bottle of drinking water she’d brought. She cleaned her lover and dressed him.
Then she carefully cleaned herself before she dressed. She looked to Etienne to ascertain what he wanted to do. He pointed in the direction of the resort.
“Why don’t we shower, put on casual evening dress, and go to the club. I love dancing with you. You are so charmingly graceful on a dance floor. Plus, the sight of such a glamourous newlywed such as you, will likely spur some whispers from the assembled crowd,” smiled Etienne.
Indeed, Etienne was correct. When the handsome, elegant and glamourous couple walked into the resort’s nightclub, the stares of the intrigued and sometimes envious men and women fell upon the Bourbonnais-Marcoux duo. The capricious, sometimes impulsive Cordelia was fair game for the charmed males in attendance.
Still the envious females insisted on making her acquaintance if their spouses and escorts were going to persist in dancing with her. Cordelia knew her place. Though she remained smiling, glamourous and flirty, she said very little and Etienne took the lead in any conversations that required any measure of intelligence.
Cordelia was fully aware, she would never be any more than a pretty face, a feline body, and a splendid piece of ass. Realistically though, she was very content with those attributes as her state of affairs. In actuality she wouldn’t have it any other way. It relieved her of any sort of decision making outside of her very own, limited feminine realm.
She relished constraining her determinations to her shade of lipstick, the style in which she wore her hair, or which skirt, blouse, dress and pair of shoes she should put on. She went so far as to have Etienne order her meal at a restaurant and choose what beverage she should drink.
Their honeymoon week went by all too rapidly and Etienne was sorely tempted to extend the reservation for seven to ten more days. Waking up in a tropical paradise with Cordelia’s moistened, creamy lips firmly wrapped around his hardened cock was purely fantastic for Etienne.
Though, his father the CFO, and the very annoying CEO, Marie Bourbonnais, might not understand his not returning to work for more than another week. So, Etienne reluctantly boarded the corporate flight back to Montreal and the humdrum existence he led in the boardroom of the Marcoux-Bourbonnais conglomerate.
The corporate limo arrived at the Marcoux estate early on a Sunday afternoon, and Etienne and Cordelia relived their lavish honeymoon for Odette Marcoux, Etienne’s mother. For the sake of Odette’s delicate sensibilities, they skipped over their ribald carnal conduct. Odette suggested a late lunch.
When Etienne and Cordelia agreed on lunch, Odette instructed her parlor maid, to see if, “Matron Julietta” was available to meet Cordelia? Cordelia looked up in simplistic surprise.
“As you may know, Cordelia, your former Matron, Greta, is moving on to another family in greater need of her special talents. Your maid, Melanie preferred staying with your mother and Marie. In fact, she will soon be Marie’s personal maid,” Odette Marcoux paused.
“I took the liberty of interviewing and hiring a personal maid for you. As the lady was eminently over-qualified she will also serve as your governess and tutor. I know you are married; however, you are barely twenty-years-old, Cordelia. Both your mother, sister and former matron Greta, agreed this was the correct determination to make on your behalf,” Odette explained.
“Now, we expect you to refer to Julietta as Matron or Matron Julietta. Though I want you and I to be on more familiar terms my dearest daughter-in-law. I insist you denote me as Mumsie or Mumsie Odette. What do you think, Etienne, my dearest, loving son?” Odette asked.
“Well, I, well mother, if you’ve already been over this with Marie, Collette, as well as the esteemed Matron Greta, you hardly need my opinion. This appears to me to be the province of you ladies, who are much wiser in matters concerning the home and the household,” Etienne said, abdicating any responsibility in the hiring of any staff, including a governess for his newly-wedded wife.
Besides, Etienne saw the wisdom of another strict female being in control of his bride while he was off at the office or away on business. Likely this woman was a member of the mysterious Cassandra Sisterhood, and his wife Cordelia would be in her bossy, schooling hands. Cordelia looked to her husband, blissfully nodding.
When Matron Julietta entered the outdoor atrium for luncheon, Etienne stood gentlemanly, and Cordelia greeted her new Matron with a proper curtsey. Julietta was a French-Italian immigrant from Southern France. She was average in height for a female, plump, had dark-brown hair and was “forty-something” in age.
She was very meticulous and a no-nonsense lady that had been recommended by her peer, Matron Greta. While the four ate lunch, Matron Julietta sized up her new charge. Of course, the matron wouldn’t be entering the couple’s boudoir when they were together, though she might attend Cordelia in Cordelia’s private dressing room or private bath.
However, whenever Monsieur Etienne was absent from the home, her charge Cordelia, would be accessible to the matron even in the couple’s boudoir. Unless of course the monsieur denied her this privilege. Matron had been assured though, by her employer, Odette Marcoux, that matron needn’t concern herself with that actually occuring.
“Etienne will not interfere with the rearing of Cordelia. He is very aware of what the Cassandra vows unreservedly implied. He will appreciate your assistance in Cordelia’s cultivation as a compliant wife,” explained Odette.
That evening, Cordelia was bathed carefully, by Matron Julietta, in Cordelia’s own, very private tub. Cordelia wanted the first evening back at the Marcoux estate to be very special for her and Etienne. She bade her matron to apply her very favorite, special moisturizers, lotions, powders and perfume. Then, Cordelia lightly applied blush and eye makeup.
Though, Cordelia then spared no expense in the application of a creamy, deep, burgundy lipstick. She further instructed her matron in how she wanted her hair done for bedtime.
“Please use the blow dryer, with a brush and sculpting lotion. I want my hair to be full-bodied and very poufy. Use ample, scented hairspray please. I want to wear my finest, silkiest, most provocative red negligee. No, not that one. Yes, that’s the lingerie piece I prefer Matron,” smiled the already seductive Cordelia.
“Might I suggest something a little less flamboyant Mademoiselle? You’re no longer on honeymoon. You are now ensconced at the home of your in-laws. Subtlety in matters of the boudoir might be prudent Mademoiselle Cordelia,” stated Matron Julietta.
To her thinking, Cordelia’s very own sex-life with her husband was exceptionally private and out of bounds even for her new Matron. She needed to handle this carefully though. Lust, to Cordelia was a very personal, important and intimate matter. Standing in her five-inch tall satin mules and thrusting out her perky breasts, Cordelia spoke up.
“Matron Julietta. I assuredly will usually value your input. However, we’re now speaking of affairs concerning what pleases my husband in our boudoir, Matron. In those concerns, only I will decide, based on Etienne’s tastes and desires. That includes what I shall wear and how I shall choose to conduct myself. Thank you, Matron. And now I shall bid you a good evening,” stated Cordelia as she uncharacteristically dismissed an elder.
That evening’s lovemaking was exhausting for Etienne and Cordelia. Cordelia was at her very slutty, most whorish best. The evening ultimately ended with Cordelia’s “poufy” tresses and her burgundy coated lips being drenched, covered and dripping with sticky sperm. After Cordelia had cleaned herself and Etienne, the newlyweds slept snugly in each other’s arms.
Awakening, Etienne quietly dressed. As he was just stepping out the boudoir door, Cordelia awoke. “Darling can I do anything for you? Do you want me to come to breakfast my love? No? Well please kiss me my hero and have a productive day at your office. Don’t let my sister annoy you my sweet. I love you, Etienne,” Cordelia whispered as her husband kissed her wet lips.
Etienne and his father ate silently. As they were leaving the table, Matron Julietta and Odette Marcoux arrived. “My Daughter-in-law did not come to breakfast to see off her hardworking husband on his first day of work after their marriage? Is that a good idea?” Odette asked.
“Mother, Cordelia is sleeping. Sleeping quite peacefully I might add. I told her not to come to breakfast. We had a whirlwind honeymoon and a long return flight. She will be down by nine, I’m certain. Goodbye mother. Father and I don’t want to be late,” said Etienne.
“Why don’t we have breakfast Julietta? Then we can show ‘Little Miss Hot-Pussy” just who happens to be the boss when she’s with the two of us,” smiled Odette.
Cordelia was in a deep slumber when the smiling Julietta and “Mumsie” knocked and entered her boudoir. She stirred awake. She turned back the covers to exit her bed when she realized she sported a large boner, and she wore no panties under her opened negligee robe. Both Julietta and Mumsie Odette noted the erection. Julietta was the first to comment.
“Well, now. Some young sissy mademoiselle looks to need a proper milking Ms. Odette. We’ve already discussed doing this in tandem, haven’t we? Why don’t we put the needed time aside right now to masturbate her clitoris? You do refer to that tiny thing between your pretty legs, as your clitoris? Don’t you Mademoiselle Cordelia?” Odette asked.
“Yes ma’am, Matron Julietta. Yes, it’s my clitoris. Oh, please no Mumsie, don’t tie me to the bedposts with scarves? Please, please don’t?” Cordelia begged. As she now struggled, and Odette and Matron prepared her for the indignity of a forced, as well as bound, masturbation at 9 A.M. in the boudoir she shared with her husband.
Mumsie Odette had removed the four, strong scarves from a bottom dresser drawer. Directly from the identical spot she had placed them for just this exact purpose. Odette took care of fastening Cordelia’s left wrist and left ankle snugly to the corresponding bedposts. Matron Julietta took care of the right wrist and ankle.
Cordelia sobbed only slightly, until Julietta put some scented massage oil into the palms of her slender hands and rubbed those palms together. Then Julietta carefully took hold of Cordelia’s “clit.” She carefully manipulated Cordelia’s “clit” as well as her testicles. Then Julietta laughed and turned to Odette.
“Look, Odette. This girl has two tiny tumors attached to her clit. And just like her clit, the tumors are swollen. What should we do, Odette?” Julietta asked.
“Maybe we should take her to my surgical GYN and have those sliced off with a scalpel for health reasons? Or, we could bind them tightly as is done when a calf is castrated?” Odette laughed as Cordelia whimpered.
Cordelia quieted though, as Julietta allowed Odette to continue Cordelia’s prolonged milking session. Odette smiled as she cooed to her sissy daughter-in-law and massaged her penis with well-oiled hands.
“Is Mumsie’s little sissy, girly-girl going to begin behaving today? Mumsie and her sissy can have so much fun together if sissy is a good girl. We could go to the beauty parlor, together. Sissy loves the beauty salon, doesn’t she?” Odette asked.
“Oh yes Mumsie. I love the beauty parlor and having my hair and nails done, Mumsie. And I will be a very good girl, so you will take me to the beauty parlor Mumsie. That will be so much fun. Oh Mumsie, what you are now doing to my clit makes me feel so nice and sweet,” panted Cordelia.
“And well it should. Now, I am taking you to the beauty parlor soon to get your first perm with your Mommy Collette. And we will now forgive you for sassing your matron, because you did do it in defense of your marriage to my son. However, you will do it more politely from now on. Won’t you, my little slut, of a daughter-in-law?” Odette asked.
“Oh, yes Mumsie and I am a real slut. Thank you for forgiving me and I look forward to my first perm with you and Mommy. Oh, gracious me, my clit is spurting, Mumsie!” Cordelia gasped as her cock gushed wildly.
Matron and Mumsie let Cordelia clean herself off and get dressed. Matron put Cordelia thru some basic walking and elocution exercises before having Cordelia kneel and give both Mumsie and Matron pedicures. Cordelia was fully sated from her morning milking and felt so relaxed for the rest of the day with Mumsie and Matron Julietta.
Six days later Cordelia, Mumsie Odette and Cordelia’s very own Mummy, Collette took a trip to Claire Bellefonte’s Salon Du Femme Fatale, so that Cordelia could receive her very first permanent wave at a beauty parlor.
“Historically Cordelia, a girly-girl’s first perm, especially with her Mommy at a beauty parlor, has always been a true right of passage for any young lady. There is no reason for even a very special young lady as you, to not have that very extraordinary occasion as a distinctive memory in her life either,” Mumsie Odette smiled.
“Odette is so very correct Cordelia. And as your mother I am so very thrilled to be enjoying this momentous occasion with you,” smiled Collette.
Indeed, Cordelia adored a trip to the salon. She’d experienced cuts, colorings, facials, highlighting, mani/pedi treatments, roller sets, leg and bikini waxing as well as lip plumping thru collagen injections. But never a perm. She’d seen ladies getting perms and it looked as exciting, feminizing and enchanting as any beauty salon treatment could possibly be.
The real treat today, for Cordelia, would be that Madame Claire Bellefonte herself, would be performing all of Cordelia’s beauty services. Madame Claire, a true Maestro of the tonsorial arts, even took the time to personally shampoo and condition Cordelia’s shiny auburn locks, instead of leaving that in the hands of a shampoo girl.
Claire chatted amicably with Cordelia asking her about her honeymoon and her new married life. Claire had done Cordelia’s hair at her wedding, so she’d been present at the ceremony and reception for touch-ups.
“So, Mademoiselle Cordelia, did you enjoy Martinique?” Claire asked.
“Oh, Madame Claire it was lovely and so very special. What a wonderful venue for getting to know one’s brand new husband,” Cordelia gushed.
“Oh, that sounds so very nice. And is marriage to the very handsome Etienne everything you expected it to be?” Claire questioned.
“Oh, gracious me! Is it ever! It really is more than I could have possibly dreamed of. Etienne is so caring and loving. Truthfully, Claire, and please don’t spread this around? Etienne is a sensational, very well-equipped, masterful lover, and a real hunk,” whispered, the giggling Cordelia.
“Well no, I don’t think I’ll be gossiping about that, Cordelia. That is most interesting, and aren’t you the lucky girl? He’s not only rich and handsome, but it sounds like he’s a well-hung stud? Plus, if I’m understanding you correctly, he truly knows how to use his manly assets?” Claire laughed as Cordelia nodded her head, smiling.
‘Yes, I’m very fortunate,” Cordelia agreed.
“If I’m not prying, do you and Etienne plan on living with his parents or do you see yourselves in your own home any time soon?” Claire asked.
“I don’t know really. Truly Claire, those decisions are purely up to Etienne. I seriously never involve myself in any such matters. I see my role in the marriage as being there to keep my husband happy, relaxed and contented. I do my best to present myself to him as appealing, loving and supportive of all of his needs,” sighed Cordelia.
“Oh Cordelia, you sincerely are the epitome of the devoted wife, aren’t you?” Claire responded.
“I really want to be Claire. I want to keep myself slender, sexy and beautiful at all times,” Cordelia cooed.
Claire had enough experience with sissy clients at her salon to know they usually made the most perfectly subservient wives. She even gave charm lessons to sissies to further develop their subservient qualities. “Let’s get your hair wrapped in a towel and over to my personal styling station Cordelia,” Claire said.
“Now your hair is beautifully long, thick and glossy. The coloring, especially the silvery highlights I put in for the wedding, is still very vibrant. So, all I’m going to do before I wrap your tresses on the waving rods, is give you a light trim, just to fix up the ends,” explained Claire.
“Then I’ll do a stacked perm wrap. You have the perfect hair for it. Your locks will be so full of such rich, lustrous tone and body, when I’ve completed you,” promised Claire, effusively.
Claire snipped very carefully. She shaped the long, thick, auburn bob with nearly platinum highlights, to her strictest specifications. Once she was finished cutting Cordelia’s hair she began the tedious process of a piggyback perm wrap. Cordelia never had so many curlers (wave rods in this case) in her hair before.
When Claire had completed perm wrapping Cordelia’s tresses, Cordelia estimated she must have had sixty-five or more, medium-sized waving rods in her hair. She remarked to Claire on the tightness of the perm wrap.
“Oh definitely. It’s supposed to be tight. Wait until I apply the perm solution and pop you under a hot, domed hair dryer, though. You think the rods are tight now? You’ve haven’t felt tight rollers or rods, until you’ve been seated under a hot salon hair dryer for fifteen minutes with perm solution processing,” informed Claire.
“Just the simple process of the perm lotion being applied begins the hair constricting around the rods. You’ll really feel the effect of the shrinkage on your scalp though, when the heat from the dryer is applied,” said Madame Claire.
Indeed, Madame Claire wasn’t exaggerating. Before she did apply the smelly permanent waving liquid, Madame Claire stuffed a towel around the collar of Cordelia’s cape. She also wrapped cotton gauze snugly around the rolled-up perm rods and papers.
Then she had Cordelia tilt her head back and hold a cotton towel to wipe away any perm lotion that might drip down the sides of her face. From being in salons before, Cordelia had smelled perm mixture from the other ladies around her. But never had she had perm solution applied to her own hair.
As Claire applied the pungent solution from the plastic bottle, using an even motion across the tightening rods, the acrid scent permeated thru to Cordelia’s nostrils. Cordelia’s eyes wept slightly, and she soon realized why her sister Marie never got her hair permed.
In addition to the odor, as Claire had said, Cordelia soon had the sensation of her tresses tightening snugly around the waving rods. Cordelia patted away any stray, dripping solution with the cotton towel. She was glad she’s only bothered with light makeup. At the very least, Madame Claire would be re-doing her makeup today.
With the solution applied from the snipped plastic bottle, Claire next escorted Cordelia to an elegant domed salon dryer. She handed the sissy the latest issue of “Allure” one of Cordelia’s very favorite magazines. With the dryer turned on, whirring and heating up, Cordelia settled in for fifteen to twenty minutes of reading snippets on makeup and hairdressing.
This was certainly different than the usual thirty-five to forty-five minutes of drying time for a roller set. Plus, the odorous perm solution smell was definitively less pleasing than the pretty scent from a sweet, fruity, setting lotion or gel.
When the chime went off as the dryer stopped whirring, Cordelia was quite pleased. The hair around the wave rods had certainly became very tight. And the acrid smell from the perm lotion had become nearly intolerable. The funny thing was, a perm was such a feminizing treatment, that as a sissy, Cordelia was still aroused sexually.
Cordelia did not know, of course, that the “perm” scent would stay with her for weeks after the actual process had been completed. Each time she would bathe, shower and shampoo her hair, the smell of the solution would be enhanced, and she would find herself become sexually heightened from the fond memory of her salon visit.
Like many sissies before her, Cordelia would become fascinated with getting a perm, and find herself making an appointment to again experience the feminizing process that came with the ultimate in a “girly-girl” sissy salon experience.
Cordelia was given a rinse, the neutralizer was applied, and then another rinse, before she was seated at the styling station to view the exciting process of watching the perm rods being removed from her freshly curled and waved tresses.
As Madame Claire plucked each wave rod and paper from Cordelia’s hair, she explained Cordelia’s styling options.
“Now, I can roll you up on curlers, put you under the dryer for another half hour and style you out with a truly classic, smooth bouffant. Or I could send you home on rollers and you could let it dry overnight and I could style you in the morning, on my way to the salon,” Claire said.
“I could also give you a blow dry. My recommendation, for that young, sensual look you carry-off so well, is to let me use a pick comb and fingerstyle and you can show off your wet, sexy curls. Just keep in mind that you can’t shampoo for at least another seventy-two hours,” Claire added.
“But when you do shampoo, you will have the same choices I just gave you. So, you want to let it dry naturally? Excellent. Let me do your makeup, then,” said Claire smiling.
Claire knew that Cordelia simply adored, heavy, very vivid makeup no matter what the time of day was. Cordelia, like many sensual, sissy housewives, was always in “evening” makeup mode. They loved having their cosmetics applied lavishly. Indeed, Cordelia, as always left the salon in a delighted mood.
In addition to the elegant, pick-comb, finger-styling Claire had given to Cordelia’s new “do,” Claire completed the tonsorial masterpiece with a heavy application of scented spray-net. Cordelia would of course sleep in a hairnet or hairdo bonnet, until her initial shampoo after the perm.
On the drive to her mother’s home, and then to the Marcoux estate where Cordelia now resided, Cordelia couldn’t help but continually primp and preen in her handheld, compact mirror.
She, of course, applied a heavy, wet coat of fresh lipstick, as she didn’t want the servant staff to see her as anyone other than the very “glam” Mademoiselle she now prided herself as being. When she did finally find herself inside the Marcoux mansion, Cordelia posed in front of a full-length mirror and again, fussed and groomed at her own reflection.
Sensing her sissy, daughter-in-law’s erotic excitement over her special salon visit, Odette Marcoux came up behind Cordelia, and embraced her sexily around her waist. Odette moved her arms up Cordelia’s slender frame and squeezed Cordelia’s bosom.
“Is sexy, sissy, Cordelia hot and horny about how pretty she looks? In that case, I think she and Mumsie need to go to pretty girl Cordelia’s private boudoir and celebrate her pretty new hairdo. Don’t we Cordelia?” Odette asked.
“Oh yes, Mumsie. Yes, please Mumsie, darling. Pretty please Mumsie? I feel so very pretty and sexy right now. I dearly hope Etienne will love the way I look Mumsie?” Cordelia mewled, prissily.
“Oh, indeed he will, my little sylph-like pet. I am certain my son will ravage you this evening, my little, darling, emasculated princess. For now, though, you and Mumsie must care for each other’s carnal needs darling. Let me lead the way, precious,” Odette said.
As it was, and still may be, among the very well-to-do; married couples can afford to and do keep separate boudoirs, for varying reasons. In Cordelia’s case, she had a place to privately bathe, dress and prettify herself. She would also nap there during the day or sleep there on occasions when Etienne was out of town on business.
Odette was now about to use the boudoir to her greatest advantage. When the Sapphic couple entered the boudoir, Odette saw to it that Cordelia’s pretty new perm was delicately protected with one of her maid’s service-weight hairnets. Placing a cotton shawl on the floor, by the bedside, Odette pushed the willing Cordelia to her knees.
Odette removed her skirt and panties. Still standing in her heels, Odette pulled her slutty, kneeling daughter-in-law to her. She pressed her waiting pussy to Cordelia’s face and said, “Suck me, you sluttish, little bitch. Eat my pussy. It’s been ages since my husband ate it. It’s craving a good working over. Get to work you whore. Earn your keep,” Odette said hungrily.
“Oh, yes Mumsie. Your puss smells so nice and fresh. I’d love to eat you out, Mumsie Odette,” simpered Cordelia.
As Cordelia licked, sucked, slurped and fingered Odette’s clitoris and vaginal region, Odette closed her eyes blissfully. She thought it quite amazing that this simpering, mewling, effeminate, girlish creature kneeling at her pudenda, had once been a worthless, gadabout, playboy wannabe, chasing skirts and wasting his parents’ money.
How convenient was it, that her homosexual son, should find wedded paradise with this once valueless changeling? Cordelia had become such a perfectly submissive, well-behaved girl. And pretty? Goodness, she was such a gorgeous, perfectly groomed princess.
How wonderful, that instead of the embarrassment of her offspring being exposed as a limp-wristed fairy, he now proudly and manly paraded this absolutely lovely angel about on his arm as his lawfully wedded wife. And sexually, the horny, little bitch would do just about anything of a sexual nature.
“We’ll be doing this again, I can assure you,” though Odette, as Cordelia did such a lovely job of performing oral sex upon her. As Odette got very near to her climactic moment, she took Cordelia by the back of her necked and hissed, “Harder you little bitch. More vigorously, girl!”
As usual, Cordelia performed exactly as told to. Her licking and sucking reached a sexual frenzy. Odette began to hum a tune that she and Briand always had loved dancing too. At the moment when her sexual passion finally broke loose, Odette gasped longingly for another moment just like this.
She pushed her puss forcefully into Cordelia’s pretty face, now smeared with her running cosmetics. She also used her hands to press Cordelia’s mouth more persuasively into her pussy. Cordelia blubbered and slurped as Odette’s vaginal juices flowed freely and dripped from her pretty mouth.
At long last Odette released Cordelia’s head from her strong grasp and she sat, sated on Cordelia’s bed. Odette looked down at Cordelia smiling. She pointed towards the vanity.
“Go and fix your face pumpkin. You look like some cheap, Parisian, street hooker that just got tossed out of the back seat of a Citron, after getting 50 Francs for a blowjob. By the way my angel you did very, very well. Once you redo your makeup you may stand in front of the mirror which hangs on your doorway and Mumsie will milk you. Bring your lipstick please?” Odette ordered.
“Yes, Mumsie. Thank you!” Cordelia, the mincing pansy, blathered.
Cordelia dearly loved doing her own makeup. As aroused as she was from eating Odette’s pussy, she was now even more so stimulated, between anticipating her forced masturbation, as well as applying her cosmetics. She stood prettily and sashayed to the mirror, holding her tube of “Frosted Pink” Guerlain lipstick, daintily in the well-manicured fingers of her right hand.
Odette unbuttoned the wrap around midi skirt Cordelia had worn to the salon. She unfettered the sash tie at Cordelia’s waist and the skirt flowed gently to the floor. Then Odette lowered Cordelia’s panties to her ankles.
“Very well, darling. Now hold still while I get some nice hand lotion to rub your clit. There my little panty-girl isn’t that nice? I can see that you enjoy it, just from the way you close those pretty blue eyes so dreamily. That’s it my honey, undulate those sexy-sissy hips. I am so very happy that my dear son married such a pretty, sweet, sissy,” cooed Odette.
Odette knew that getting Cordelia to spurt her semen really wasn’t much of a challenge. As Cordelia wiggled her buttocks and Odette massaged her sissy-clitoris, it was only a matter of time before Cordelia climaxed. Odette knew just what to do and say.
“Cordelia my precious, look at yourself and your pretty new curly perm in the mirror darling. Now Mumsie wants you to pat your curls with you left hand, put some lipstick on with your right hand, and fully embrace the beautiful sissy-girl you have become. That’s it baby, you’re a beautiful, sexy, totally emasculated prissy-sissy, aren’t you honey?” Odette said.
Cordelia continued to wiggle her slim hips and pat her curls while she pursed and puckered her pink lips after coating her mouth with Guerlain “Frosted Pink.” The entire vision of her thorough feminization flashed before her and culminated in a shuddering ejaculation. Her sperm spurted forth and bespattered against the mirror.
As her ejaculate gushed forth she screeched loudly. Odette laughed at the totally feminine sounds coming from Cordelia. The mirror was covered with Cordelia’s ejaculation. Cordelia could barely stand from the exhilaration. Odette let her sit for a brief period before ordering her what to do next.
“I want you to lick as much of your sissy-juice as you can, off of the mirror. Then wipe the rest with a cloth and glass-cleaner. Get dressed, fix your lipstick and come to the parlor and give me a foot rub. Remember to remove your hair net and fluff your curls before Etienne arrives from work,” Odette said as she walked from the boudoir.
“Yes Mumsie,” Cordelia answered as she got right to work doing what Mumsie had described. The last thing she did before descending to the parlor, was check her clothes, hair, makeup and especially her lipstick. Cordelia was very proud of the girly-girl that she had managed to become.
Denouement
Cordelia Antoinette Bourbonnais-Marcoux had only recently turned twenty-five. No longer did she need to suffer through the ignominy of being monitored or disciplined by a Tutor or Governess. Those shameful days were generally behind her. She still kowtowed to Mumsie, but their relationship was somewhat secretive and behind the scenes.
To all observers, she and Odette had a pleasant, Mother-in-law/Daughter-in-law rapport. Cordelia did have a new Lady’s maid. She was a lovely young English girl, her own age, named Sibylla. Sibylla also helped care for the two adopted twins who now called Cordelia, “Mommy.”
The twins were a boy and girl. The boy was named Pierre Briand, after his grandfathers. The girl was Odette Marie after one Grandmother and her aunt. Collette decided she’d prefer the child have Marie’s name, so she might emulate Marie’s sense of strength and business acumen.
Already the child was being called “Little Marie,” due to her precociousness. Today the twins had turned four-years-old and there was a huge party being held at the Marcoux Estate, where they and their parents resided. Etienne was in no rush to move from the mansion.
And if he did, he intended to build a home on the estate grounds. After all, he fully intended to inherit the property someday. The birthday party was taking place on a Saturday afternoon so as not to interfere with anyone’s morning golf game.
The guests were awaiting the arrival of the children and their gorgeous mother, Cordelia. Cordelia put the last touches of hairspray onto her vintage, early 1960’s Bouffant-Flip. She’d spent the evening sleeping in curlers to get just the right look.
In the back and along the sides of the “Flip” were lovely bubbles of springy curlicues. Her makeup was flawless. As her hair was now platinum blonde, the cosmetics she applied were all very soft pastel shades. She wore a gorgeous silver lame off-the-shoulder midi dress with a matching bolero jacket.
Her not quite, five-feet, nine-inch, exceptionally svelte, 118-pound frame, was perched delicately upon matching silver pumps with towering five-inch stilettos.
She called to her maid. “Sibylla darling. Are the children with you? Wonderful dear. Please assist me with bringing them downstairs. Come along Pierre and Little Marie. Come with Mommy and Ms. Sibylla. We’re going to see your loyal following at your birthday party,” Cordelia teased to the delight of her maid.
Sibylla was intrigued with Ms. Marcoux, who she called “Madame Cordelia.” She knew her employer was a beautiful female, with male organs, tucked snugly within her panties. Sibylla realized this was a shared family secret that no one else was to know. She also knew Monsieur Etienne would have it no other way.
However, she also realized that Madame Cordelia was all girly-girl as far as her personality and lifestyle was concerned. And Ms. Cordelia was no snooty rich-bitch. Often, such as today, Cordelia had asked Sibylla to join the party, dressed in normal party attire. Even if Sibylla was going to assist with the children she was still to feel a part of the family.
“You may have the day off. It’s Saturday. However, you are welcome to attend, and I will see that you are paid to be there. It should be pretty light duty anyway, as the grandparents and my sister won’t leave the children alone as it is. The children adore you Sibylla and want you there,” smiled Cordelia.
So, of course Sibylla did attend though she told her Madame that she didn’t need monetary compensation. “Nonsense. You’re getting a full day pay and bonus. You’re attending because I asked you to, and you know you wouldn’t refuse,” Cordelia answered.
Sibylla understood that the unique relationship her Madame had with the Monsieur was really no different on the surface that any other married couple. And they certainly had a lively sex life, from the sounds emitting from their shared boudoir.
As Sibylla, her Madame and the children entered the banquet room, the focus for most of the family was on the children. But, it was still very easy to see that nearly all of the grown men and many of the women looked at the elegant, enchanting female that was Madame Cordelia Marcoux.
Cordelia nodded and winked at her husband, his father, and a few other younger men. She smiled at the women who she knew envied her for her wealth, handsome husband and her simply lovely appearance. She sought out her sister Marie, who she realized had gained a few pounds.
Marie was dressed appropriately enough for a boardroom. Of course, that was where she thrived and felt the most comfortable. She’d recently met an older man at a conference and he was with her. He was handsome enough and seemed quite fit. Cordelia decided to engage them.
“Good afternoon Marie. Isn’t this grand? Your little namesake is four today. You look well Marie and quite handsome as usual. Hello sir, my name is Cordelia and I’m Marie’s younger sister,” said Cordelia extending her hand limply. Indeed, the gentleman took her hand and dashingly kissed it.
“Oh, my gracious, Marie. Is this true gentleman with you?” Cordelia asked.
“Yes, he is. Cordelia, this is Roget Parron. Roget, as you already know, this is my younger sister, Cordelia. Cordelia, as always, you look no less than stunning. Even Platinum blonde hair. I just can’t believe you sometimes. Always so girlishly feminine and striking. It’s staggering at times when I see you,” added Marie.
“Marie, you don’t give yourself enough credit for how I turned out. After all darling, you had me groomed from the time I was nearly nineteen. Tutored, groomed, and governed. It was all part of your master plan, so I didn’t turn out as some sort of Tomboy. Don’t you remember? Surely you do,” said Cordelia.
Marie smiled. “Yes, well mother wanted at least one daughter who was all girly-girl and that is certainly you little sister. I envy you, you know? Men can’t keep their eyes off of you. Just like me, other females resent the way their men fawn over you. You are quite the catch. No wonder Etienne fell so very hard for you?” Marie added.
“Well I’m always here for you anytime you want some fashion or beauty tips, or advice on how to keep your man interested. Roget, it was very nice meeting you. Actually, Marie can be very sexy when she wants to be,” Cordelia said as Roget raised his eyebrows at the interplay between the sisters.
The party went along wonderfully. The twins were showered with gifts. Cordelia flirted rapaciously with every man there. She was speaking with her Father-in-law Briand when she realized she’d barely spoken to her husband.
“Have you seen Etienne, Papa Briand?” Cordelia asked.
“He said he wanted to find a certain bottle of Cognac to take a celebratory drink from. I would guess he is at the private family liquor cabinet. Why don’t you stay here and talk dear? He’ll be back,” said Briand, cupping a hand upon one of Cordelia’s very firm ass-cheeks.
As inviting and uncommon as Cordelia found the action of Briand putting his hand on her ass, she still wanted to find her lover.
“I’ll return, Papa Briand. Possibly soon,” added Cordelia.
She did find Etienne standing at the “top shelf” private liquor cabinet the family kept for their own personal use. Cordelia placed her hands on his shoulders. He turned, and she kissed him fiercely.
“Well, to what do I owe this honor?” Etienne asked.
“Your Papa told me I’d find you here. What bottle of special Cognac were you looking for my love?” Cordelia asked.
“The bottle we were enjoying when we made love on the beach in Martinique our first evening there. Remember, you put it in your luggage for safekeeping. We placed it here to take a drink from on special occasions. I think the four-year birthday of our twins would qualify,” said Etienne.
“And I agree with you. So, if you will come to my private boudoir, where you’ve never made love to me, we can both enjoy a small glass together,” said Cordelia curling her arms coquettishly around Etienne’s neck.
“My goodness, you insatiable minx. I appreciate your sexual appetite, but what about our guests, our parents and the children?” Etienne asked.
“You let me take care of all of that. Wait here. I’ll return shortly. The guests are all nearly departed. Our mothers will be overjoyed to assist Sibylla with putting the children to bed. Your father will have to wait for another time to grab my ass. And my sister needs to go home with her new man and get screwed to the mattress pad,” smiled Cordelia.
Cordelia returned shortly. She’d told her mother and Odette that Etienne had a terrible headache and she wanted to give him a neck and shoulder massage. Her mother and Odette gladly agreed to care for the children at bedtime.
Cordelia now took Etienne by the arm and escorted him to her private boudoir. She pointed to the bottle on one of her dressers, locked the door and began to remove her clothes. She was naked by the time her Etienne had poured two shot-glasses of the exquisite Cognac. Etienne handed Cordelia one of the glasses.
They clinked the glasses together. Etienne said, “To us and to our children’s 4th birthday.” Then Etienne took a sip of Cognac.
“To us, to our children’s 4th birthday and to our first time having wild sex in my private boudoir,” said Cordelia as she took a sip of the Cognac.
“Etienne, finish your Cognac, get your clothes off and come to bed darling. I want you to screw me,” said Cordelia as she drank the remaining Cognac from the shot glass.
The End.
I would like to add that I have had a story like this in mind for some time. When I did begin to write the words just seemed to jump off of the tips of my nicely manicured fingers. I really love this story and I am already re-reading it. I want to thank Annabelle and all the people who read these stories for their support.
ReplyDeleteI'm currently finishing up the last couple of chapters to "Mrs. Iglesias."