Done Up in Layers

Priscilla Bouffant

A Cassandra Sisterhood Novella of Romance, Emasculation, Dominance and Subservience

I was struck by the difference in my spouse, Monique’s attitude and appearance since she’d joined this new “Ladies’ Club” which she seemed so enamored with.

Chapter I: My First Mistakes

    “Who did your hair, Monique? It looks awful. You look like a Dyke. I’ve been doing your hair since we began dating. I’d have done it for you and I’d certainly done a better job!” I said exasperated.
    “Such a nice thing to say Nicklas. I just love being called a Dyke by the person I married. Your sexy boss, Miranda, did my hair, at her main salon. You wouldn’t have done it like this. You’d have said it would make me look too mannish, obviously,” Monique smirked.
    Monique had come home late from the office. She’d plainly had a couple of drinks. No worries there. But her tresses! They were close clipped and shaved at the nape, with a Pompadour on top, a Duck-tail in back, and slicked back. Plus she had colored her locks in a striking white-blonde.
    I thought, given her trim, athletic figure that she looked like the “Butch” in a lesbian relationship. It was a Monday, and the salon I managed was closed. I could have done her hair at home and I was offended.
    “You’re quite correct. I’d never style your hair like that. I certainly don’t want my spouse looking like Ellen Degeneres’s lover. Gracious, Monique. Is this another idea you’ve gotten from that Cassandra group you joined?” I asked.
    “Hmm? Maybe. A few of the girls have similar styles and coloring. Don’t get your panty in a knot, Nick. Besides. I worked hard all day. Where’s dinner?” Monique winked.
    Monique had grown up with servants waiting on her. She was from money. Very old money. She was French-Canadian from Montreal, Quebec. Her full name was Monique Jocelyne Vieux-Cartouche.
    She was the only child of Renoir and Madeleine Vieux-Cartouche. They were from a French-Canadian Banking family. She could have lived off her trust fund and later her inheritance.
    Instead she chose to make her own way in high finance. At the age of 30, four years older than me, she was easily one of the top money managers on K Street in Washington, DC and was on her way to a very prestigious and lucrative career path.
    During dinner, she brought up her hair again. “So are you jealous that Miranda did my hair?” Monique asked.
    “Yes, I guess so, but there isn’t much I can do about it, is there?” I said.
    “No not really. Do you think it’s the same sort of jealousy I had when I found out that you flirt voraciously with Taffy, your shampoo girl at the salon you manage. I’m also to understand things might have went past the point of flirtation? Because there is plenty I can do about that Nick,” she threatened.
    “What? You’re kidding, right? I mean who would say such a thing? Taffy is a very nice girl, and I joke around with her, but that is it,” I lied.
    It was much more than a flirtation. I was having an affair with Taffy, but I’d thought we’d been very discreet.
    “Don’t protest too strongly, Nicky. That is surely a giveaway. It had better not be true either,” she added.
    At bedtime, I looked at the bedside lamp table, nearest to Monique and I was stunned to see a strap-on dildo setting there with a tube of KY-jelly.
    “What the heck is that doing there? I thought you got rid of that faux penis?” I gasped. It was something we’d played around with when we’d dated. That and some other unusual stuff she enjoyed. After we got married, I told her I was done with her dildo.
    I’d also told her I was done with the “girly” games she’d had me play with her now and again, so, in her words, “We can spice up our sex-life.”
    “No, you told me to get rid of it. But I’ve always told you, no one ever bosses me around, unless I work for them. Plus, besides using the dildo on you, I think you need a lesson in marital obedience. We’re going to play some sissy games tonight,” Monique smiled.
    “I won’t do it, Monique. Never again,” I stated.
    “Okay then, maybe I should call Taffy? I’ll just ask her right up front if there is any truth to what people have been saying to me and talking about, behind my back? You shouldn’t mind, if it’s all lies, right Nicky?” Monique asked.
    “Wait Monique. Do you realize how embarrassing that call would be to Taffy? She’s a really nice kid and getting a call like that would really shame her and truly upset her. She’s very sensitive. I won’t let that happen to her. Okay then, whatever you want me to do tonight, let’s do it,” I said.
    “You want to play girly games, Monique? Sure, we can play,” I gulped, hoping she’d buy my dodge. It was better than her calling Taffy.
    “What a really sweet friend you are to Taffy, Nicky. A true prince. Or in this case tonight, a real princess. Just so your little friend wouldn’t be embarrassed, you’ll be Momma Monique’s little sissy-girl tonight? Well how nice?” Monique chimed.
    “You know, you haven’t depilated your body in so long, and took a scented bubble bath, I think we should start there. If I’m going to screw you with my dildo tonight, I want you to be pretty, sexy, smooth and really femme,” laughed Monique as she pulled me into the bathroom which adjoined our bedroom.
    About an hour and a half later, I sat, mostly hairless below my eyebrows, with a neatly trimmed bush around my stiff pecker. I had on high-heeled bedroom slippers with a negligee. I was applying my own makeup. I hadn’t done my makeup since just after our honeymoon.
    However I did the makeup of plenty of female clients at the salon. Plus I also did the makeup of numerous models at local fashion shows. While I did my makeup, Monique was putting hot rollers into my damp hair. I really smelled feminine.
    The bath salts, lotions and powders Monique had used on me were all mixtures of honeysuckle, lavender, verbena and freesia. A real miasma of floral bouquets. She’d went so far as to clip ear fobs on me and teased me about having my eras pierced, soon. I’d always known that Monique had lesbian tendencies and wondered if she’d drifted back into it. When she was in grad school, I worked at a salon near the campus. She and some of the other girls from the Equestrian Team would come in to have their hair, makeup and nails done.
    They were sort of “Lipstick Lesbians,” but some did have short boyish hairstyles, and wear sports coats and zip-up boots with their riding pants. Monique would flirt with me but often she’d come in with a cute little femme chick on her arm.
    Monique was nearly six-feet tall and a couple of inches taller than me. She’d even tease me about how my waist was slimmer. One of the Equestrian women she hung out with, “Val,” had a tight-assed boyfriend who all the girls would tease at the parties they had at the Equestrian sorority house.
    Monique had gotten away from these ladies quite a bit after she got her Master’s. Though, she still rode horses. But now, since she’d joined some club called the Cassandra Society, or something like that, her patterns had become a lot like things were when I met her.
    I figured I could play along as long as I could tone things down with Taffy, at work. Monique had begun to remove the hot rollers from my hair. While she combed, brushed and sprayed my tresses, she critiqued my makeup.
    “I think you need another coat of that wet-look crimson on your lips, Nicky. I want you to brighten up the blush on your cheeks, also. And please, doll, freshen up your mascara,” she ordered.
    Once she was satisfied with my face, and the bouncy curls that barely touched my shoulders, she motioned me to the bed. She snuggled up beside me and pulled me to her. She was rough and forceful. I almost felt violated as she kissed me forcefully.
   She was really eager to set the tone that told me she was the boss, right now. I was glad to go along with her. As long as I could take the heat off and then end the affair with Taffy, at the salon. Monique broke away from our long, amorous kiss.
   She began to draw lines on my face and lips, smiling. “You always were gorgeous when I dolled you up, Nicky. I really miss it you know. I know we talked about it and agreed to end it, but I’m very sorry Nicky. I just can’t give up my pretty Nicolette. Do you understand, honey?” Monique asked.
    I was trapped. I didn’t want to argue. I wanted the entire Taffy thing to go away. If I could play along with Monique for a while, I could figure things out. I didn’t want to split up with Monique, that was for sure.
    The sex was hot. She made fantastic money and we lived very well. Of course I loved her. I’d just fell into fooling around a little. That was all. I must have spaced out, because Monique gave my face a sharp slap.
    “Don’t ignore me Nicky! I told you I want my pretty slut, Nicolette back. You’ll do that for me, won’t you, girl?” Monique asked, raising her voice.
    “Yes. Yes of course Monique. I’ll be Nicolette for you,” I simpered.
    With her job, social life, horseback riding and my job it wasn’t like I was going to be prancing around as Nicolette every waking hour of every day anyway. Just as soon as I could cool things off with Taffy, I could talk my way out of being Monique’s sissy once again.
    “Well then you dizzy, little, sissy bitch, start speaking like Nicolette for me. You don’t sound like my girlfriend and I know I had you trained to talk like a pussy-face at one time,” Monique hissed, almost angrily.
    “Yes ma’am, Ms. Monique, Nicolette remembers how to talk like a sweet, sexy girl,” I whispered.
    Monique opened my negligee and started biting my nipples. Gosh, I hated when she did it. She could be very rough. It hurt. It brought tears to my eyes, which she enjoyed licking. She turned me onto my back and really began to smother me with her kisses and her strong body.
    It made me feel like such a wussy. She ran her fingers thru my curls and was breathing heavy. “I want my pussy licked really clean and I want a climax. Then I’m fucking you right up your ass, you bitch,” Monique said, derisively.
   I crawled between her legs. I always gave her oral sex. I’d better give her oral sex if I ever wanted her to allow me to enter her pussy with my penis. She had me well trained. Though it is no excuse for infidelity, I enjoyed that Taffy was just the opposite.
    With Taffy, I could be selfish and make sex all about me if I felt like it.  But never with Monique. Monique came alive once my tongue and lips contacted her “hot” spot. She squirmed, wiggled and panted.
   “That’s it you sexy, sluttish, lipsticked bitch. Suck me doll face. Lick my clit you slut. That’s it honey. Get mommy’s love button. Oh my gracious, princess, I’m coming!” Monique shrieked.
    She grabbed my head, hooked her long fingers into my curls, and pulled my face into her juicy twat. She squeezed her legs around my head. My face was soaked with her juices. Then she pulled me up just enough to have me kiss and rub her stomach and calm her twitching uterus muscles.
    “Go wash your face girl and then fix your face again. Make yourself pretty. Then I’m going to screw your sissy ass,” Monique assured me.
    Once I washed my face, Monique decided she wanted to do my makeup. When she completed doing my face, she had me kneel on her bed while she strapped on her rubber penis and put lubricant on it. Then she lubed my rectum with an applicator tube.
    “I’m only doing this because you promised to be my good girl, Nicolette. If you were a bad little bitch I’d bang your ass without a drop of lubricant. There, you’re all nice and juicy, Nicolette, my cunt. You know what to do,” she warned me.
    “If this hurts too much, I suggest you avail yourself of the various butt plugs you wore when I was at grad school and beyond. It will make this much easier. There! Not bad. Just a little more. Big inhale and exhale for mommy now,” Monique gushed as she pushed the dildo all the way in.
    She began to really ride me. I never thought of myself as a sissy crossdresser. I always believed that I was only trying to make my girlfriend, then fiancee and finally my wife happy. I do have to admit though, that the feeling of ladies’ clothes, the scent and feel of makeup and being screwed in a submissive doggy-style position could be very erotic.
    My cock began to get really hard. It had been somewhat hard ever since she put me in the peignoir and had me do my makeup. Now it was rock-hard. My butt hurt. However I knew it would be no use in telling Monique. She was likely to screw me even harder if I complained.
   “Okay sissy, let me see this teeny penis. Oh my. Nice and hard. It barely ever gets this hard when you screw me. Maybe we should start letting you be the girl more often? You can be the wife and I’ll be the husband. After all, I work longer hours and make a much larger paycheck than you do,” Monique laughed derisively.
    That was true. Monique had asked Miranda to schedule me from 9 to 3 Tuesday thru Friday so I could be home to cook for her on weekdays. I went in 9-5 on Saturdays. The assistant manager worked the hours where I was off and the salon was open.
    Monique’s days Monday thru Friday were much longer. At least 8 to 6 if not later. And her salary at the brokerage where she worked, was off the charts. Both the home and neighborhood we lived in were very elegant. The community was private and we belonged to the country club.
    I was sweating and panting at this point and both my ass and cock were really sore. Monique began to jerk my penis with her partially lubricated hand. She laughed gutturally as she did so.
    “How does that feel my sweet, swishy sissy-girl? Do you like your pretty clothes and the scent of your powders and lotions? Not to mention your prettily curled hair, my little lovely. Oh, someone is about to explode from mommy’s sexy talking,” Monique teased.
    As the semen gushed forth, the shame that overcame me was significant. I was blowing my wad as my spouse teased me about being her sissy. I’d put myself in this position by being an adulterer. I had to do something to keep Monique from calling Taffy.
    The thing was, I enjoyed being dominated like this by Monique. I felt girlish in the clothing and makeup. I liked that she had fussed with my hair as if I were her daughter. She was even referring to herself as my “mommy.”
    I sobbed as the last of my sperm leaked out. I’d been vanquished and chastened. Until I was able to discourage Taffy from pursuing our affair I’d be in this position again and again.
    “I’m going to take a shower. I might watch some Television or a DVD. Use one of the guest baths to clean up. Put on fresh lipstick, perfume, lotion and powder. Change into a clean peignoir. Then I want you to set your hair and put on some face cream. Cover your curlers with a hairdo bonnet,” Monique instructed me.
    “Then come out and kiss me goodnight. I want you in bed early this evening. Let’s see. You should be down by eight-thirty. Such a babyish, childish bedtime hour, isn’t it? We’ll see how long you can stand this sort of treatment before you decide to tell me the truth,” she added, as I started to speak up for myself.
      “Shut up, Nicky. I don’t want to hear your whining or your lies. I know something is going on between you and Taffy. Now, be gone from me. Nighty night princess,” Monique sang as I tiptoed off to the shower wearing my new high-heeled slippers.

Chapter II: The Errors of My Ways 

    Tuesday morning I felt foolish walking into work. My hair still had plenty of curl from being set in curlers at bedtime. Even though I wasn’t wearing makeup, the scent from all the lotion, powder and perfume I’d worn to bed was still with me.
    Monique had produced a pair of black, ladies stretch slacks, a white tube top, and a pair of black kitten-heeled shoes. Over the tube top, I wore a Moroccan red, rayon crepe, poet blouse, with shirred shoulders, looped covered buttons, and ruffled-cuff sleeves.
    To say I was nervous would be an understatement. Taffy was the first person to see me. Walking up to me she said, “Well you look very nice and you smell great. What’s the occasion?”
    “We need to talk as soon as both of us can get a break. In my office, okay?” I said.
    “There’s no time like the present. What’s up?” Taffy asked as she followed me into the manager’s office.
    “Okay. Sit down and I’ll explain. I don’t know how she found out but Monique seems to be aware something is up between us. So we have to cool it and I mean today. We can’t see each other any longer,” I shrugged.
    “You think it’s over just like that? You think you can dump me and simply walk away. Wham, bam, thank you ma’am? Well, I’m sorry Nick, but that’s not the way it works, baby,” Taffy said, measuredly.
    “No honey, you owe me. I just finished my nail care courses. I want a promotion to nail tech, doing manicures and pedicures. That’s just for starters. Either that or I call Monique within the week and spill my guts,” Taffy threatened.
    “Now wait, I can contact Miranda today and set the promotion up. Can you still do the shampoos until I hire a new girl?” I asked.
    “No, you can do the shampoos,” Taffy smiled.
    “Okay, it won’t be that long. I can do that. I’ll call Miranda now,” I said nervously.
    “Wait. I’m not finished. I want a check from you every week that matches whatever tips I make, doing nails. Or I still contact Monique and sing,” the greedy, vindictive little bitch, Taffy, added.
    “Don’t push me too far, Taffy. I could fire you,” I said.
    “You do that and I’ll scream sexual harassment to the labor board. Don’t fuck with me, Nicky. You’re screwing around with the wrong chick. As it is, when I dump my soul to Monique I will swear you pressured me into sex,” she hissed.
   “Okay, wait though. I can’t just cut a check from a joint account between Monique and I. My check goes into that account and she handles the money. She’s even got a limit on my credit cards. I’ll have to figure something out,” I begged off.
    “Well you’d better do that soon. You know you are really pussy-whipped aren’t you? I’m not sure what the hell I saw in you? But unless you want me to squeal really loud to Monique, you’d better come up with enough to double my tip money within the month, Nicky,” Taffy said as she turned and left my office.
    What a morning! I called Miranda, the owner of the salon I managed. She also owned several other salons. I got her at her newest location.
    “Miranda here. Is that you Nick?” Miranda asked.
    “Yes, it is Miranda. I have a shampoo girl I’d like to promote. She did very well with some nail care courses she took and we could use another nail tech to do manicures and pedicures. I could do the shampoos until I hire a new girl,” I explained.
    “It sounds fine with me Nicklas. By the way, I’d like to have you out for drinks and talk to you about the assistant manager’s job at this new salon. It doesn’t sound like a promotion but it is. The commissions here are fantastic and the salary is better,” she explained.
    “Plus, we’d be working together and I really don’t get to see enough of you Nicky. Why don’t we get together next Monday, on your day off?” Miranda purred.
    How I could possibly be thinking about anything prurient after what I’d just gone thru moments ago with Taffy, was beyond me? But, Miranda was one hot looking lady. She was half East-Indian and half Anglo, and she was absolutely gorgeous and just exuded sex appeal.
    Once I put Taffy’s promotion thru I ran an add for a shampooist. The first person to apply was a college freshman named Felix. Yes, of course he was effeminate, limp-in-the wrist, and swishy, which made him perfect for the job. Plus he had experience from a part-time job he had during high school.
     So I hired Felix immediately and looked forward to my Monday meeting with Miranda. When Monique heard I had promoted Taffy, she smiled. “Well I guess it helps to be screwing the boss,” she said as she turned and walked away.
    “I might be moving over to Miranda’s new salon. I’d only be assistant manager but it’s more money,” I said.
    “We don’t need more money, Nicky. I need you here to do the housekeeping and cooking. I hope the hours aren’t longer. I like my dinner and a drink ready when I get home. I like you being available for me to take to bed when I feel like having sex,” Monique added.
    “Plus, I don’t think I like the idea of you being around a sexy, rich, vibrant, pushy female like Miranda, all day. Not one bit. Not when I hear stories about your roving eyes, and worse. I’m going up to the bedroom. I might even start playing with my pussy,” Monique stated teasingly.
    “When you are done cleaning up the after dinner mess, get bathed and smelling nice, the way I like you to smell. Bring me a B&B and some massage oil. If I like the massage you give me, I’ll let you make love to me and you may put your penis inside of me. Okay?” Monique asked as she went up the stairway.
    That’s the way Monique was, especially when something was bothering her. She would treat me callously, like an insignificant servant. However, due to my guilt over my affair with Taffy, I’d look beyond that. In fact, I may have enjoyed it.
    The following Monday, I drove over to Miranda’s newest salon to meet with her. She wanted me there at 9 A.M. when it opened. I figured we be going out to breakfast or brunch. However she surprised me. After a tour of the deluxe full-service salon and spa, and being introduced to some of the very attractive and well-turned-out females who worked there, we walked outside.
    “I bought this entire building. Above the salon the former owner remodeled a lovely apartment on the second floor. She’d stay there on different occasions. Maybe she worked late, or even had that very special boyfriend or girlfriend over?” Miranda surmised.
   “It has a private entrance. Let’s go up and have a look. We can have that meeting in complete privacy. I’ve really been looking forward to you and I alone, together, Nicky,” Miranda said alluringly with a very sultry, dulcet tone to her voice.
    My penis started to get hard just looking at her, and listening to her trifle with me. I followed her up the stairway watching her gorgeous behind sway from side to side. Inside the apartment I listened to her high-heels click on the hardwood flooring.
    She gave me a tour of the opulently decorated rooms, making certain to show me the bedrooms. “I like this boudoir the best. I really can’t wait to stay here and use the bed. Who knows?” Miranda winked at me.
    We sat in the living room and she discussed the job with me, including my hours, salary, commissions, perks and her expectations for me.
   “I know Monique needs you around the house. I realize the two of you have a relationship that consists of a role reversal. She’s more of the husband and you’re mostly the wife. I not only think that is so cute, but I respect it. So your hours won’t change,” she explained.
    “So what do you think, darling?” Miranda asked, crossing the room and sitting down next to me on the love-seat where I was seated. She hooked her left arm into my right, pulled me towards her and leaned into me intimately.
    “Do I need to do anything else to convince you to take the position, Nicky?” Miranda asked, putting her right arm around me, looking into my eyes and kissing me.
    “Now that was nice. I think I’ll try that again,” said Miranda, as I returned the kiss. She was all over me in an instant, pushing me down on the loveseat. We became a tangle of arms, legs and torsos.
    “I think it’s time to try out that new King-sized bed I just had put in?” Miranda added, as she took off the expensive suit jacket she wore, which matched her skirt perfectly. By the time we reached her boudoir, our clothes were scattered across the living room and hallway floor.
    Getting under those plush covers with Miranda was really juicy. Strikingly different from either Taffy or Monique. Taffy was cloying, submissive and gratitude filled for absolutely anything I did. Though now she’d become a first-class gold-digging bitch.
    Monique could be the “Ice-Queen” unless of course I worshipped at her vulva with my tongue, lips and mouth. Miranda however was pushy, aggressive, and sex-charged. She acted as if she didn’t have time for me to even bother to service her twat orally.
    Instead, she forced me to my back and gobbled my prick into her mouth, readying me for her to determinedly mount my erect penis so she could screw my brains out. She was the type, I was certain, to not be pleased if her lover failed to respond to her overly-enthusiastic efforts.
    She must have enjoyed my performance as she hired me that day to the position of her assistant manager at her newest and most prestigious salon. I hoped this would keep Taffy at arms length, and it did in a physical sense.
    It kept us far apart enough so that we were no longer lovers. However, Taffy continued to contact me weekly, reminding me I was supposed to be “subsidizing” her tips as a manicurist and pedicurist. Initially, Miranda seemed to be satisfied to be engaging in sex with me about twice a week.
    Then two problems arose. First, she began to become more demanding as to the frequency of our lovemaking. Secondly, her strong perfume scent lingered upon me and Monique, ever the jealous spouse noted it.
    “Are you wearing perfume, Nicky?” I recognize that. It’s Opium Black. Miranda wears that. I recall asking her what she had on when she did my hair. What the hell are you doing with it all over you? Are you screwing her, also?” Monique demanded.
    “Monique. You must stop this intense mistrust of me. First Taffy and now Miranda? Miranda puts her perfume on quite heavily. We are around each other all day. It’s also possible she sprayed some on and got some on me?” I answered nervously.
    But the stress kept coming. By the time I’d been working a month at Miranda’s new salon, Miranda had me up in her apartment once a day, and twice on Saturdays. It had gotten to the point that I struggled to get an erection in bed with Monique.
   Plus, Taffy hounded me so much, I was borrowing cash against my new larger salary and commissions at Monique’s salon, to pay Taffy the blackmail money she was demanding. Sooner or later Monique was going to notice it when she did the monthly bills.
    I was beginning to get really jittery and argumentative, especially at home. So much so that Monique demanded we go into marriage counseling. I told her to find a counselor and she did rather quickly. We began twice weekly sessions at the offices of Doctor Johnna Filene.
    Monique expressed her concerns, including marital infidelity and occasional impotency on my part. Doctor Filene raised her eyebrows over those topic. I got very defensive and blurted out my side of the story.
    “It’s all in her imagination. The infidelity that is. The stress of my new job could be causing me to fail sexually,” I simpered.
    “But they are both valid concerns. I know if I suspected my spouse of cheating and then he failed to get an erection, I’d wonder if her had other interests,” Doctor Filene offered.
    She said I appeared overly nervous and prescribed something for me. She also suggested “spicing up” our sex-life. Monique smiled at that suggestion.
   “Oh, I have a way of doing that. I dress this sissy in girl’s clothes and make him do his own hair and makeup. After all I did marry a cosmetologist. But, Nicky doesn’t like becoming Nicolette. Do you sweetie?” Monique teased.
    “Well no, and I am not a sissy!” I exclaimed.
    “Well I can see I gave the right person medication for their nerves. Nicolette, I’m sorry, I meant Nicky, however you must admit you’re cute as a button. You have such a pretty face and slim build,” Doctor Filene implied.
    “Nicky, if dressing as a girl would calm Monique’s fears as well as heat up your sex life, why not give it a try? A real secure male, that wasn’t insecure in his masculinity would have no problem dressing as a girl if it pleased their spouse,” Doctor Filene added.
    So, I began taking the prescribed meds as well as dressing as Nicolette in most of my free time at home with Monique. Of course it helped sexually. However with Taffy’s continued blackmail and me trying to keep up a front to hide my deepening affair with Miranda, I’d become a babbling basket case much of the time.
    Miranda suggested some time off, saying it must be the pressure of the new job. Monique suggested private sessions with Doctor Filene. Finally at what amounted to an “intervention” with Doctor Filene, Miranda and Monique, the trio came up with a startling conclusion.
    “No, absolutely not, I am not letting you commit me to a mental hospital!” I protested.
    “Now Nicky. The Winthrop Institute of Northern Virginia is not a mental institution. It is a retreat. It’s where sensitive individuals trying to find themselves go for some rest and relaxation. I happen to be on staff there in an advisory and consultant capacity,” Doctor Filene smiled.
    “It is top shelf and first class. Plus, both your insurance with Miranda as well as Monique’s insurance at the brokerage cover it 100%. Let me place a call, so that you and Monique tour the facility. I think it would be the wisest move for everyone concerned,” the doctor added.
    Doctor Filene made the call and set up the appointment. I took a leave of absence from work. Plus the doctor increased my medication dosage. The following Saturday, Monique and I took a drive into a rural area outside of Alexandria, Virginia to visit and assess the Winthrop retreat.
   My resistance to Monique’s attempts to help me “get in touch” with my feminine side had seemed to weaken somewhat. In fact almost any suggestion she made I hardly gave a second thought too.
    I was now on a modified Vegan diet with occasional shellfish or other seafood. I took aerobics with Monique and was even wearing attire that could only be called “unisex” if barely so. The apparel, hairstyle and modest cosmetics I sported that day as we drove to the Winthrop retreat bordered on the very effeminate.
     I had on a pair of Burgundy flared slacks that had come with a suit/slack set that once belonged to Monique’s younger sister. I wore the matching jacket with a white blouse that had lacy cuffs and a ruffled neckline. I had on dark knee-high hose and black, one-inch kitten-heeled shoes.
    My hair had been set on the top and cut into an inverted bob. The top curls had been finger-styled with gel. My lips were coated with a waxy-white gloss. My fingernails were slightly long, filed into points and shiny with a clear lacquer.
    For the time being I was un-resistive towards any attempt by Monique to encourage me to be less masculine. Our lovemaking had reached new heights in bed each evening, with me usually in a baby-doll nightie, styled hair and makeup. Plus I loved the compliments Monique was giving me on my looks, my housekeeping, my cooking and especially my lovemaking.
    At that time I never attributed my overt compliance with all of Monique’s wishes as well as her demands, as having anything to do with the medication I was taking. What mattered at the time was that I was no longer being pressure by Taffy, Miranda or Monique for much of anything.
    I considered that this “vacation” at the Winthrop Retreat might do me a lot of good. When we entered the retreat grounds I was impressed with the landscaping and the well-manicured lawns. The buildings varied from ultra-modern to ante-bellum but somehow seemed to blend.
    The valet parking was impressive as well as the concierge that escorted us to the office of the Directress, Madame Sofia Modiste. Madame Modiste was an absolute stunner in every way.
    She was likely around forty. She had this lovely head of thick, wavy, glam hair, and smoldering, dark Latina eyes. She was fashionably attired. She smiled and welcomed us in an enchanting European accent.
    “As you will see, our staff and our clientele are predominantly female. So, I truly appreciate you attempting to fit in with your effete attire Nicky. Very stylish darling. You’re going to do well here. Have the two of you had lunch? No? Then we can chat and dine on something light here in the ante-room to my office,” Madame Sofia added.
   A pretty girl in a stylish serving outfit brought our lunch. She was very proper, curtsying and always referring to our host as “Madame.” The time chatting and eating seemed to fly by. Then Madame took us around campus, filling us in on the history of the facility, the type of therapies they employed, as well as their success rate. She then showed us a typical single room.
    The room we viewed was both exceptionally elegant and fastidiously feminine. Next, she showed us an exercise and fitness room. Then we viewed the swimming pool, the plush clinic waiting area, and finally the full service salon and spa.
    Everything about the Winthrop retreat was perfectly refined, overtly chic and extraordinarily feminine. If they did indeed employ males or have any male clients they were not in evidence. Lastly we agreed on the following Saturday as the day I would begin my “rest and relaxation” at Winthrop.
   “The limo will be in front of your house promptly at 8:30 A.M. Nicky. There will be no need to initially bring any luggage. All of our new clients wear a sort of uniform until they are acclimated to our facility. Monique, could you fill this form out and give us Nicky’s waist, inseam, chest and shoe size?” Madame Sofia asked.
    “We also provide toiletries. So just bring yourself with whatever attire you have on when we pick you up, Nicky,” Sofia added.
    “Won’t you be seeing me off darling?” I asked Monique.
    “I’ll be at the house when the limo arrives and will kiss you goodbye, lover. But I have a 10 A.M. meeting at the office that Saturday morning. You’ll be fine. She’ll be in good hands, won’t she Madame Sofia?” Monique smiled.
    “Oh yes she will, Monique,” Madame added.
    The use of the feminine pronoun, somehow completely escaped me.

Chapter III: The Nascence of Nicolette

    Just before the limo arrived to wish me off to Winthrop, Monique posed me in front of the full-length mirror on the living room side of our vestibule. I was mildly anxious with my appearance and had expressed my concern to Monique. However she relented.
    “Please Nicky, my sweet darling. We’ve been over this already my pet. You’re being so silly. You look wonderful. Didn’t Madame Sofia complement you effusively on your fay appearance when we visited Winthrop? You’re going to be a big hit, love,” Monique insisted.
    Monique had dictated that I wear a black, two-inch heeled set of pumps instead of the usual kitten heels she’d been putting me in. I was wearing a snug panty brief “just in case” I might get an erection in a predominantly female facility. Over the brief I wore dark pantyhose, which I’d been wearing when we took aerobics.
    Though I felt the white, billowing, Palazzo pants with the sash, side-tied belt, along with the pink, ruffled Georgette blouse were both a bit “over the top” Monique had done everything she could to still my uneasiness.
    I was now mildly comfortable my inverted bob and the springy curls on top. In fact the curls were now a regular feature of my “do.” The day after we visited the Winthrop Retreat, Monique had me shampoo my hair and sit at a table in our sunroom.
    Then she gave me a spot-perm, using an Ogilvie home-permanent kit. The Saturday morning before the limo arrived she had used a styling pomade to gel my curls and give them a high lift. The curls now stood prominently several inches atop my head.
    While I sat at her vanity she sprayed my curls in place and decided to put some makeup on me. After she outlined my lips with a lip wand, she used a tube of soft pink lipgloss to fill in and paint my mouth. She then used the same tube of gloss to blush my cheeks.
    She used a small amount of pink shadow and dark mascara to highlight my eyes. After standing me up to check everything, she spritzed me with Miranda’s favorite perfume, Black Opium. Then she propelled me into the living room.
    As I took in my full reflection in the mirror, Monique hugged me and gave me light kisses on the neck. Then she massaged my shoulders. Finally she turned me towards her and kissed me softly on my lips.
    “I’m going to miss my girl and those sexy evenings in bed, Nicky. Yum. You’re so special Nicky-girl. Mommy will come see you in a couple of weeks. Oh, there’s a knock at the door. Hello, and won’t you please come in? My name is Monique and this is Nicky,” Monique said, to the busty, full-figured lady, dressed in a black pant-suit with white blouse.
   “Hello, Monique and Nicky. My name is Adele, and I’m with the Winthrop Institute. I’m here with the limo to pick up Nicky. I’ll be Nicky’s escort and handler during the preliminary introductory period. I’d love to come in, except that Patricia, one of our drivers, and Jennifer a member of our security staff are waiting in the limo,” Adele explained.
    “They have several more pickups to make today after they discharge Nicky and I at the Institute. So we’d better get going. Now kiss Monique good-bye Nicky, she’ll be seeing you in a few weeks. Monique you’ll be sent daily reports,” Adele explained.
    “Oh thank you Adele. Come here princess and give mommy a big kiss. Oh, such a good girl, aren’t we, love? Okay take Adele’s hand and let her walk you to the limo,” smiled Monique.
    It didn’t occur to me then, but as I’d find out later, the dosages of the drugs Doctor Filene had prescribed for me had been steadily increased since the inception of my usage. At this point I was literally stoned and barely cognizant of my surroundings every waking hour throughout the day.
    Now that I was in the custody of the security staff of the Winthrop facility, the plan was to allow the effect of the drugs to taper off and have me go “Cold-Turkey.” At that point I would realize my plight and the good ladies of Cassandra could begin re-programming me to their very exacting standards.   
    Jennifer, in the passenger seat, got out of the limo to open the door to the set of limo seats which faced each other. Adele sat facing the driver and I had my back to the glass partition which separated us from the front seat.
    “Thank you Jennifer, things look perfect to me at this point,” Adele said.
    “Yes Adele. I concur with that estimation,” Jennifer agreed.
    As Jennifer closed the door and returned to the passenger seat, Adele announced to the driver by using an intercom, “You may proceed to the Institute as soon as you are ready Patricia.”
   As the limo pulled away from the curb Adele smiled and said, “I simply adore your hairstyle Nicky. Is that a cold wave set?”
    “No ma’am, Miss Adele. Monique gave me an Ogilvie home perm last Sunday,” I explained, to what I perceived was stifled laughter from the front seat.
    “A home perm? Oh how cute and sweet. I haven’t had a home permanent since my mother gave me one when I was twelve. That must have been some truly wonderful girly fun between you and Monique? Those Ogilvie perms are supposed to be salon quality, aren’t they?” Adele asked, again followed by more, even less-stifled laughter.
    As I blushed, Adele then complimented me on my shade of soft pink lipstick, eye-shadow and blusher. During the drive I became more self-conscious of the lacy cuffs and billowing sleeves on my Georgette blouse and how much my Palazzo slacks gave the appearance of me wearing a long flowing skirt.
    I was glad to arrive at the Winthrop Retreat and to be shown to my room by Adele. And what an alarmingly feminine room it was! Everywhere I looked were pinks and other remarkably soft pastels.
    The window dressings, the linens and the canopy on the four poster bed, as well as the shower curtains dripped with ruffles and frilly lace. The attire in the dressers and the closets was so overtly frilled, girly and fussily feminine that it made my Palazzo slacks and Georgette blouse look like something a Lesbian Butch would wear.
    Then there was the ornate vanity cluttered with pots and jars of cosmetics, powders, lotions and hair care products. In the corner of the room was a domed dryer one might see in an exclusive hair salon. Next to the dryer was a table with all manner of women’s fashion and hair magazines.
    I could now see that Adele was observing my silent reaction to the room with great interest. I know now that the effect of the drugs wearing off was making me more aware of my surroundings and the stark effeminacy enveloping me was becoming more frightful.
    “Is everything suitable to you Nicky? Would you like to see more of the school or have some lunch? Oh wait, you’re due for an evaluation with one of our therapists, Doctor Helene Blade. Come along dear. Take my hand. That’s a good girl!” Adele added to my chagrin.
    It is now apparent only today that the high medication dosage I’d been on had caused me to build up a tolerance. With no drug intake, the medication was wearing off very rapidly and causing an emotional withdrawal as well as a keen awareness of what these women might be planning for me.
    Upon arrival at Doctor Blade’s office we were greeted by her lovely, obsequious, Asian secretary Sun-Kim. I’d later find that Sun-Kim was of Korean decent and hardly a true female. She curtsied prettily to Adele and practically bowed.
    “This is Doctor Blade’s 11:30 A.M. evaluation, Sun-Kim,” Adele stated.
    “Yes, Missy Adele I will show her in,” simpered Sun-Kim.
    “Very well. I’ll wait here for her,” added Adele.
    Doctor Blade greeted me warmly. However I was already feeling on my guard. The now physical withdrawal symptoms must have been apparent to her. My facial muscles were twitching, I was batting my eyes and I couldn’t keep from squeezing my hands together nervously.
    “How are you today Nicolette? Such a lovely name your husband picked out for you. Nicolette Raquel Vieux-Cartouche. You’ll be taking her last name when you remarry at a planned commitment ceremony. Do you like it?” Helene Blade asked.
    “No I don’t doctor. Not one bit. In fact the overt feminine nature of this facility is most troubling to me. Please, if you would, call my wife Monique and tell her I’d like to leave here immediately. Have her come and get me,” I prattled, shaking nervously.
    “I’m afraid that isn’t possible Nicolette. Nicolette you are acting very strange. I’m a doctor, you can tell me what is troubling you, young lady,” Helene smiled condescendingly.
    “I just told you what the problem is and my name isn’t Nicolette. And I’m not a female, I’m a male. Now please, do as I ask, and contact my wife so I can leave!” I demanded, raising my voice.
    “Oh, I see. Well let me text the front desk to place that call for us and why don’t you calm down and we’ll discuss your concerns, dear? There, someone will be here to help you shortly darling,” she smiled again.
    The door opened and Adele entered the room. Before I knew what was happening, Adele stood me up and pulled my arms behind me. I’ve already said she was full-figured. She was also very strong and I couldn’t move my arms at all.
    With her was a very athletic looking female dressed in the identical black suit and white blouse. Apparently this was the uniform dress of the security staff.
    “Pull down her pants and underthings. Then hold her snugly at the knees for the clinical staff,” ordered Adele.
    Surely enough my Palazzo’s and underthings were soon around my ankles and the second security officer held me tightly at my knees. With my arms pinioned behind me and my legs locked in place I was helpless to defend myself against these two strong women.
    “Let me go! Unhand me this instant, do you hear me? This is all wrong and I am not Nicolette and I’m not a female!” I bellowed, angrily.
     “Here’s the nurse with two nursing assistants. Nurse while she’s restrained please sedate her. She’s in withdrawal from her medication and delusional. She thinks she’s a boy named Nicky,” Doctor Blade announced.
    “Well we can’t have that. No boys are allowed here. There, some nice sodium pentathol in the fanny. It’s a babble dose. You wanted to ask her some questions, correct, Doctor?” Could you guards help my nursing aides to get her on the gurney? Thank you ladies,” the Head Nurse said.
    “Yes, I’ll be in the infirmary shortly. Keep her restrained as well as heavily sedated. Plus when she is calmed and up and around I want her fitted with a shock collar as well as an ankle bracelet to keep tabs on her,” Doctor Blade added.
    “I’ll be into the infirmary shortly. I have to contact her husband to find out how she wants us to handle this recalcitrance. Then I need to ask her some questions about some personal matters. I’ll be recording her,” the doctor explained.
    I could hear them speaking. Though, when I tried to respond it sounded to me as if I slurred my words. After another injection of something that immobilized me, they said they were starting an IV drip. After that even when I felt awake I drifted in and out of a dreamy consciousness.
   I could feel a discomfort in my chest, and some tightness there, including a dull ache. I dreamed of both Miranda and Monique. They both were disappointed with me and sternly lectured me in my dreamlike state.
    I don’t know how much time I was out but when I did finally come to where I could see my surroundings I knew I was in some sort of clinic or hospital. Looking down at me and smiling sardonically was my “escort” the security agent, Adele.
    “How do you feel now, Nicolette? Better? Let’s hope so dear,” Adele said.
    “My throat is raw and I’m thirsty. Plus my pectoral region feels sore,” I added as I reached for her hand, helplessly.
    “Things will be fine, muffin. Nurse. Some water and something for discomfort. I’ll have to give it to you Nicolette. Your arms and legs are hobbled. Help me lift the back of the bed so we can sit her up,” Adele requested.
    “I’m only giving her some Tylenol Four. We’re weaning her off of the stronger stuff,” the nurse explained as I sipped the water and washed down the tablets.
    “Please tell me what is going on, please Adele?” I begged.
     “Okay honey, but don’t start screaming. After you arrived at the infirmary, Doctor Blade put you under Sodium Pentathol therapy. She questioned you about various personal matters you’ve been keeping secret,” Adele explained.
    “She recorded everything. You admitted to some affairs you were having. With a Taffy and someone named Miranda? You also admitted that you enjoyed it when your husband dominated you, made you pretty and treated you like a whore,” Adele further explained as I closed my eyes and began to sob.
    “It’s okay. You can cry. I have some Kleenex tissue here,” Adele said, wiping my tears.
    I sobbed for a little while and then asked, “So why are my pecs sore?”
    “You’ve been given a nice little set of B-Cup tits. Don’t worry. For the time being Monique has decided you may keep your penis and balls. As long as you behave and don’t attempt to escape from here,” Adele added.
    “Oh my gosh. What kind of crazy place is this?” I whined.
    “I’ll take what you just said under consideration, after considering what you’ve been thru recently. I’m certain you may be upset that you now have a girlish bust. But listen to me. You need to get along with everyone here, plus be able to assure your husband Monique that you will assume the girlish mantle of her wife in the future,” explained Adele.
    “You are in a school of sorts. A place where wayward, failed males like yourself are reconditioned and feminized. Here they learn to eventually take their place in society as subservient wives, concubines, maids and ladies companions. To eventually serve at the pleasure and discretion of women who belong to the Cassandra Sisterhood,” Adele warned.
    “That’s the club Monique recently joined. Right after that she returned to the Butch Lesbian persona she’d adopted at grad school, when we met,” I gasped.
    “Okay, that’s likely true. I only know this. You will eventually need to very submissively beg forgiveness for your indiscretions with Taffy and Miranda. Even if Monique knew about those liaisons, you will have to prove to her you can be a devoted, perfectly behaving wife,” counseled Adele.
    “When you are heeled from you bust improvement procedure you’ll begin private classes with me, Doctor Blade, Doctor Filene and Madame Sofia. You’ll have an electronically activated shock collar locked around your neck that will only come off when you shower,” Adele added.
    “Around your ankle you’ll wear a similar GPS bracelet. We’ll know where you are at all times and be able to control you physically from quite a distance. Understand this. You will be trained to be the perfect, very slim, very pretty and very feminine wife for Monique,” she smiled.
    “You’ll have the wasp-waist of a Victorian consort and the hips and bust of a Hollywood actress. You’ll sound so sweet when you speak, butter won’t melt in your mouth. You’ll walk with the poise of a Newport debutante and move with the feline elegance of a runway model. You’ll know instantaneously what to do to please your new husband. Any questions?” Adele asked.
    “I have so many I can’t think of even one right off the bat, though. I would imagine I have no say so in these matters?” I asked.
    “None, really. I want to warn you. If you try to escape, we are authorized to have one of your testicles removed. We’ve never had a second escape attempt from any foolish individual. As you can imagine,” Adele laughed.
    “Rebelliousness of any nature will be dealt with swiftly and severely. You don’t know pain until you’ve been caned on the buttocks and thighs with a rattan rod. Either Doctor Filene, Doctor Blade or I will visit each day. Your surgeon, Doctor Deborah Morel will see you soon to explain your recovery procedure. Good day, Nicolette,” Adele smiled.
    When my surgeon visited, she had the charge nurse Haley show me how to massage Vitamin E/Aloe Vera gel mixed with Collagen cream into my breasts. My bandages had been removed and the sutures examined. Both the nurse and doctor approved of my progress.
    Both Doctors Blade and Filene would discuss my emotional recovery and what would be expected from me in the future.
    “A large part of your emotional healing will be to resolve your horrid infidelity with your husband Monique. You must realize the pain you have caused her and plead for her forgiveness,” Doctor Filene intoned.
   I actually felt quite well physically after about ten days. Within three weeks I was mostly recovered and taking part in private high heel classes with Adele. She certainly dressed differently when her role was that of an instructor.
    Gone was the black suit and the “sensible” footwear. Instead she wore a high-necked white blouse and a knee-length hobble skirt, with three-inch high-heeled pumps. She would come to my room in the morning and have me dress in identical attire.
    My hair would be up in curlers. She’d have me kneel in front of her, on a pillow, as to not damage or dirty my dark stockings. She’d then pluck the rollers from my hair. Using a sculpting lotion she’d style my long bob into a curled upsweep. She paint my face as if I were a kewpie doll.
    Then attaching a leash to my pink shock collar she’d escort me to the cafe. I’d mince along, my hips swinging in time to the staccato tapping of our high heels. The butt plug in my rectum along with my dangling earrings reminding me of my strictly enforced increasing femininity.
    At the cafeteria we’d sit at one of the private tables reserved for provisional students and their personal instructors. Any transitional student like myself was not permitted to interact with students that were attending regular group classes.
    Whenever I was deemed trustworthy I would be assimilated into the general student population. My pink collar told everyone I was probational. Once we had eaten a light breakfast, Ms. Adele would lead me on my leash to a mirrored dance studio.
    There she would remove my leash and start out by having me “promenade.” I would be made to walk the length of the room, being conscious of taking perfectly dainty steps.
My arms would be at my sides, my wrists limped and my fingers daintily spread as if my nails were dripping wet with polish.
    When I reached the first corner I would stop, view myself in the mirror in front of me and execute a perfect curtsey. Taking the hem of my skirt in the tips of my slender fingers I would perform a very prissy, dainty dip while saying, “Oui Madame.”
    Then I would turn sharply on my heels and proceed the width of the studio before performing another curtsey at the next corner, saying, “As you wish Madame.”
    Now I would pick up a handbag and rest the strap of the shiny patent leather bag in the crook of my left arm. I would raise my left arm high enough to keep the bag from falling off. Then I would walk the length of the room.
    The bag would be held quite prissily dangling from my arm again with my wrist very limp and my fingers demurely spread out. Curtseying while carrying the handbag so primly was quite a demure exercise.
    This time when I curtseyed I would have to say, “Nicolette is so very pleased to meet you Madame.” I would finally complete the lap of the room, turning the corner after my 3rd curtsey and return to present myself to Ms. Adele.
    My hips would sway from side to side. I’d have a silly vacant smile on my lips. My eyelashes would flutter prettily. As I’d curtsey I would say, “Thank you so much for caring enough to train me to be a pretty girl, Madame Adele.”
    This exercise might continue for up to thirty minutes. The next task I might perform, depending on Ms. Adele’s mood, might be elocution coupled with mannerisms. I was being taught to speak in precise modulated tones, forming my words into perfectly annunciated syllables. My speaking voice was to be soft and dulcet.
    I was to couple my girlish vocalizations with soft giddy laughter and dainty mannerisms, such as tossing my head, touching my lips or tresses, limping my wrists or fluttering my eyelashes. The more prim and girlish I performed, the happier Miss Adele seemed to be.
    Sitting and standing practice could be quite repetitive but of course I always must tuck my skirt or dress underneath me when I sat. I was allowed to wear slacks less and less as time went by.
    And preferably I was kept out of shorts unless I was exercising or wearing a suit and shorts set for a therapy session. I had also not realized it, but Madame Sofia was an accomplished dancer.
    Initially I would go to her for ballet in order to learn poise and grace. Later though she would take the lead in ballroom dancing in order for me to learn to follow Monique should we go out dancing together.
    Finally, Ms. Adele declared me eligible to take part in regular classes with the other “girls” at Winthrop. I was ever so careful that first morning doing my makeup. I wanted everything to be perfect when I strolled into my first class, which was “Sexual Etiquette.”
   My hair, my nails and my face had to be perfectly groomed. My heels, blouse, stockings and skirt were modest, yet fashionable. As I had been taught, when I entered the classroom, I curtseyed properly to the instructor who was seated in front of the class.
    I took my seat and spoke to no one. When Ms. Land, the instructor introduced herself, we all rose and curtsied again, singing out, “Good morning Ms. Land.”
    “Good morning girls. Today we begin an important study in your journeys’ together as wives, concubines and companions. How many of you hope to return home to a female husband? Let me see now, eight all told. Very well,” Ms. Land said.
    “How many will be serving a male master? Three? Okay that’s fine. Now, does that mean that the five girls that have yet to raise your hands, will be the sexual objects for a male as well as a female master? Really? Well now that is interesting. I usually don’t have that many who plan on serving a couple,” Ms. Land surmised.
    “It’s good for me to have that information so I can properly gear the lesson plan to the class at hand. Well this will be an interesting discourse. Now, what every single one of you must understand is that the erotic whims of your various Masters are paramount to your sexual focus,” Ms. Land explained.
    Ms. Land looked over what must have been the class roster. “Hmm? Now tell me Miss Nicolette Raquel. Why do you wear a rectal plug? Now remember this is sexual etiquette class so please don’t tell me it’s so that you may walk prettily,” Ms. Land smirked.
    I stood up as required and curtseyed. “Madame Land. I wear a rectal plug in order to be properly opened up in case my husband desires to insert a faux-phallus in my anal passage.”
   “Very good. Now remain standing. What if she brought a real man into her home as her lover? Would not he also be privy to use your rectal passage for his own pleasures, Nicolette?” Ms. Land asked.
    “Your husband may not enjoy at all having her own rectum buggered. She also may not relish giving her new lover-boy oral sex, what then? Explain first having anal sex with her new man,” Madame Land asked.
    “Yes Madame. My body would also exist for his sexual pleasure should my husband desire for me to be at his service carnally. I would be expected to service this man with my anus as well as my mouth,” I added.
    “Very good. Class, Nicolette brings up a good point. The male brought into the home is only privy to your sexual favors if your female Master deems it so. You may be seated Nicolette. I might add that Nicolette Raquel is a very lovely name. You are a fortunate young lady, miss,” Madame Land added.
    For the remainder of the term I found that my previous employment as a cosmetologist aided me greatly in my beauty classes. Also my experience cooking, shopping and cleaning for Monique gave me a good background for home economics.
   Naturally as any sissy I could not be expected to manage the household budget. In any event, prior to my possible graduation this term, I had a counseling session with Doctor Blade.
    “Nicolette, we’d all like to see you return to Madame Monique’s household as her wife at the end of this term. There are requirements you must fulfill, however. We need to discuss those today as Madame Monique will be visiting the school this following Saturday,” Doctor Blade intoned.
    When Monique arrived I was still fixing my face and hair. I’d been told to wear my tresses in an updo. I wore a straight hobble skirt, as well as a corset, panty-brief with maxi-pad, tall four-inch heels as well as a lemon, crepe, Georgette tie-neck blouse.
    I minced into Madame Sofia’s office. To me, Monique looked so incredibly beautiful I was stopped dead in my tracks. I could barely execute a proper curtsey but I did. Her sleek silver-blonde tresses were up on her head in an exaggerated pompadour. Her makeup application was severe and intimidating.
    “I’m so honored to be in your presence, my wonderful husband. Thank you so much for visiting me,” I simpered.
    “Well it was told to me that you had something to say to me. Get on your knees and at my feet you slut. Get on with it. You need to suck up to me big time, girl,” Monique hissed.
    Besides kneeling at her feet I lowered my head until my forehead touched the floor. Gulping and taking a deep, deep breath to compose myself I began my contrite apology.
    “Please, my loving and masterful husband, Monique. Forgive me for my adulterous transgressions against you. I want to be your subservient wife and be devoted to you, my one and only, for the rest of our lives together. Please allow me back into your life as your slave, your whore and your concubine,” I begged.
    “I will accept your apology but only on the grounds that you now show me your devotion and obedience to my exotic whims. You may elevate your head, but do not stand. Turn to your left. Do you know these two pretty girls?” Monique asked.
    “I recognize Sun-Kim my dear husband, but the other girl is only vaguely familiar,” I simpered.
    “That is because she has been transformed and feminized since you met her. Her name was once Felix. You hired her as a shampoo boy, to replace your lover Taffy at the salon you managed. Her name is now Felicity. I want you to crawl over to her, this instant girl. Very good, Nicolette,” Monique said.
    “Felicity, lift your mini-skirt. Nicolette, lower Felicity’s panties and begin to suck her tiny sissy cock,” ordered Monique.
    I slowly lowered Felicity’s panties to her knees. Monique was correct. Felicity did not have a very big cock, however as soon as my fingers and lips touched it, her small cock began to grow. It was easy enough to take all of Felicity’s swollen penis between my lips and into my mouth.
    When I did so, and gave Felicity’s penis a big suck she quivered and mewled. As her cock grew I slurped, licked and fondled it, into a stiff, plump, erection. I knew if I wanted Monique back in my life, even as my domineering husband, this was one of the tasks I would need to complete.
    “She’s a very good little cocksucker isn’t she Madame Sofia? Sun-Kim, do you wish that was your dick she was sucking on?” Monique asked as Sun-Kim giggled cutely in response.
    “Yes, she has excellent technique. Our instructors in Sexual Etiquette class have them practice on rubber penises but there isn’t any substitute for the real thing,” Madame Sofia agreed.
    Sun-Kim just giggled once again. I had yet to be instructed on the action to take when Felicity climaxed. I planned on swallowing everything. Anything was better than a sperm facial, which would absolutely ruin my cosmetic application. By now I enjoyed immensely how pretty I looked once my makeup was properly applied.
    “Whenever Felicity blows her wad, I insist you drink up every single last drop of her salty, sissy, scum. I’m certain both you and Felicity will enjoy that. Don’t you dare spill even one tiny dribble!” Monique said, clearing matters up for me.
    At this point, dainty Felicity was whimpering and gyrating. She was barely able to stand. I heard her gasp quite audibly. Then she entwined her pretty fingers into my heavily sprayed upswept curls. At that moment, as she pulled my head towards her, she shot her load of rich, hot semen into my lipstick smeared mouth.
    I gulped down a nice thick wad of salty sperm. Dominated sissies were sometimes not permitted to orgasm for weeks at a time. So our loads of semen were occasionally plentifully stored. This might have been the case with Felicity.
    As I gobbled up her sticky gooey mess, Felicity mewled, whinnied and gasped femininely. One very tiny spittle of her juice was leaking out the side of my mouth. I knew Monique, Madame Sofia and even Sun-Kim were watching.
    I quickly used my tongue to keep the last bit from dripping off my chin. I sort of knew that Sun-Kim was a sneaky, sickeningly sweet, mawkish little sissy bitch. She often pandered to numerous professors and staff members at the Institute, simply because she was Doctor Blade’s Administrative Assistant.  I wondered what role she was going to play in my recent mortification?
    I’d soon find out. My cocksucker performance was derisively applauded and mockingly laughed at by both Madame Sofia and my husband Monique. I could also hear simpering giggles coming from an amused Sun-Kim.
    “Nicolette, make certain Felicity’s penis is perfectly licked clean before you tuck it back into her panties. That’s it. Encircle it with you tongue. Don’t forget her tiny little balls. You did very well Felicity. Come over here and sit next to Mommy,” Monique said.
    “Now, for your next task to prove your undying allegiance to me Nicolette, my love. Go to the ladies’ room over there and clean up. Fix your face, especially those Sugar-Lips. Remove your panty brief and butt-plug, for mommy,” Monique teased.
    “Then get back in here and you can begin by sucking off the very lovely Miss Sun-Kim. Won’t that be fun, Missy Sunny-Kim?” Monique asked to my dismay.
    “Oh my, Madame Monique, that sounds just so very exciting!” Sun-Kim gushed, breathlessly.
    “That’s only the start of the fun, Sun-Kim, darling. Get your plump little ass moving, Nicolette,” Monique demanded.
    I quickly sashayed to the restroom, my handbag strap draped girlishly within the crook of my left arm. I wiped my lips and touched up my eyes and cheeks with mascara and blusher. Then I creamed my lips nicely with heavy crimson lipstick.
    Mincing back into Madame Sofia’s office I saw Sun-Kim standing there with her cock in her well-manicured right hand, and her mini-skirt pinned up. I knew what I had to do and quickly knelt in front of her. I was surprised at the nice size of her cock for a sissy with such plump tits. I’d later find  out she’d also had implants put in.
    Plus, she too, was on the same Wiccan Herbal Treatments I was being administered. Sun-Kim seemed quite strong as she pulled my head right into her crotch. As I sucked Sun-Kim’s rapidly growing penis, Monique instructed me to give Sun’s balls a thorough licking.
    As my tongue carefully circled her balls, Sunny-Kim cooed like the little fairy she was. Then I followed Madame Sofia’s suggestion to give Sun-Kim’s balls a healthy sucking, by taking her testicles into my mouth. Sun-Kim responded by gasping and lisping out her thankfulness to me.
   “Oh gracious me Nicolette. You precious girlfriend. Oh how I adore this. You are such a sweet sissy girlfriend. You are just about the sweetest little sissy cocksucker I’ve ever dreamed of giving me a blow job. You’re so good at this!” Sunny-Kim exclaimed.
   This brought gay peals of laughter to the lips of both my husband/master Monique as well as the Reverend Madame Sofia. Then, my esteemed and wonderful husband really spiced up the action.
   “Sun-Kim my darling, I know you would like to shoot a load into Nicolette’s pretty mouth, but I want you to give her a nice butt-screwing, princess. Take your pecker out of her mouth, lube her rectum nicely with this gel applicator and grease up that pretty cock of yours,” Monique exclaimed.
    I felt so very helpless and put upon at this point that I thought I might faint. Monique had me turn around and get on all fours, “sissy French-Poodle style” and present my rear end very prettily to Sun-Kim.
    “Oh, Madame Monique, Nicolette has such a pretty, plump ass and such a very inviting butt-hole. Oh my heavens Madame, she looks so very sexy to me. Oh please Nicolette, please wiggle your ass prettily for me?” Sun-Kim cooed.
    “You heard her Nicolette. What the hell are you waiting for? Show your sex partner how much you appreciate her making love to you. Give her a sexy ass wiggle, just as if it were me about to screw you,” Monique demanded, and of course I waggled my rump to and fro, prettily for Sun-Kim.
    “Monique, this is why we train these girls using the best quality and largest butt plugs on the open market. The pliable, space age rubber plugs we employ go thru the most rigid testing standards available,” bragged Madame Sofia.
    I will say at this point that I was actually fortunate that Monique had frequently used her largest dildo on me. Plus she’d taught me the proper breathing and sphincter muscles relaxation techniques. I don’t know how often Sunny-Kim actually got to screw any sissies in her prestigious position as Doctor Blade’s obsequious servant.
    However, the pretty Sun-Kim was quite gentle entering me. Though she wasn’t exactly un-excitable once her penis was well inside me and we began to couple in a rhythm of passionate lovemaking.
    She was kneeling behind me and had reached over my torso to enthusiastically squeeze my breasts as she pushed and pulled her plump penis in and out of me. She panted hotly and gasped and I could tell she was excited about butt-fucking me. Then, a cell-phone chimed!
    “Ignore the ringing of the phone girls. After all you are making squishy, sissy love. Continue the show for us, my pretty girlies. Madame Sofia, might I take this call? It’s our fellow Sister and our dear friend, Miranda Patel calling me,” Monique chimed.
    “Of course Monique darling. And please give Madame Sister Patel my very best wishes,” added Madame Sofia.
    As Sun-Kim publicly screwed me, Monique chatted casually on the phone. “Hello Miranda darling, how are you, love? Me? I’m at the Alexandria, Virginia Winthrop Institute in Madame Sofia’s outer office den. Yes, I’m making a decision on that, as we speak, and I’m leaning towards bringing Nicolette home with me next weekend,” Monique announced.
    “Right now? She’s kneeling on the floor taking it up her ass from Sunny-Kim, Doctor Blade’s secretary. Yes, it is amusing. But you know Miranda, it’s also a very touching love scene. They’re both absolutely adorable, coupled together so sweetly and romantically. Yes, sissy love in bloom is just so very precious,” Monique laughed.
    “Taffy? Why yes darling that is an absolutely astute business decision. That’s correct. Cassandra Sisterhood bylaws absolutely prohibit as well as forbid any sissy being in a supervisory position in the workplace, especially over any genetically born female,” Monique replied.
    “I dare say I would not let it trouble me. Taffy will make a sensational assistant manager to you at the salon and I’m certain Nicolette will be very excited to be working directly under Taffy’s supervision,” Monique laughed.
    “Oh, Miranda. Madame Sofia sends her best regards. I’ll tell her. Yes, she’ll be conducting both ceremonies. It will be wonderful to see you there. Chou darling,” Monique added.
    “Miranda sends her best to you Madame Sofia and is very excited about seeing you in your ceremonial High Priestess garments next Saturday,” Monique announced.
    It truly sounded as if I was getting royally screwed and not just by the sissy, Sun-Kim. Sunny-Kim’s penis had grown fat and hard by leaps and bounds. My asshole was really being stretched. Having a real, flesh and blood prick up my ass for the first time was testing my limits physically.
    However, if anyone looked closely enough I was really aroused. My pecker, though never huge, was standing at rapt attention and just waiting to explode. Sun-Kim was pumping me like I was her bitch-dog in heat. I was gasping, blubbering and nearly sobbing at this point.
    Then I finally knew the amazing feeling of having a cock grow to it’s maximum proportions in my ass just before it gushed it’s hot, steamy semen up inside of me. The sensation was so staggering, it caused my prick to expel all of my stored up sperm in one fantastic gusher.
    I let out what only could be described as a girlish, effeminate squeal as Sunny-Kim simultaneously screamed like a Harpy, as she pumped load after load of gooey, sticky sperm into my well-used asshole. I collapsed to the floor and the whimpering Sun-Kim fell on top of me.
    I was truly spent and wallowing in my messy discharge. I could feel Sun-Kim kissing my neck and running her fingers thru my tresses as she whimpered out, “Oh you very pretty, lovely, sexy girlfriend! Oh, I love you Nicolette Raquel. Oh that was so good. Could I take her home with me, Madame Monique?” laughed Sun-Kim.
    “No not today. But maybe I’ll allow you two to play again. And by the way girlies, if I ever catch you two sluts playing behind my back, you’ll have never dreamed life could be so very painful,” Monique spat, threateningly.
    “Felicity honey. Stuff this Tampon applicator up Nicolette’s ass to sop up all that scummy mess before it drips all over the beautifully tiled floor. Good girl honey. Now before you lick up your dribble mess, Nicolette, I want you to clean off Sunny’s cock and balls,” Monique ordered.
    “That’s it. Very good. Get to every nook and cranny. Now lick up whatever hot load you shot all over the tile. Do these little whores get lessons in douching Madame Sofia?” Monique asked.
    “Yes they do, Monique. That’s all part of our very comprehensive Sexual Etiquette class. Professor Land and her assistants have each girl personally and individually demonstrate in front of the class how to give oneself a douche. Then the girls are paired off and give each other a proper douche in front of the assembled classroom,” explained Madame Sofia.
    “Well good. Nicolette when you get back to your room make sure the first thing you do is give yourself a rectal cleansing. Madame Sofia could you permit Sun-Kim to return Nicolette to her boudoir? Walking her on her leash of course,” asked Monique.
    “Yes, Monique. Of course she can. She’s considered a staff trustee here. Put her on a leash Sun-Kim and escort her to her quarters tout-de-suite,” Madame Sofia ordered.
    As Sun-Kim attached my leash to my white shock-collar, I looked pleadingly at Monique. Yes, I’d heard her tell Miranda she was considering taking me home in a week. I just wanted something else from her. A hug, or even a kiss. She must have read my mind as she saw the look of a begging puppy-dog in my eyes.
    “Don’t even dream of it, Nicolette. I see the look on your face. If you think I’m hugging or kissing you goodbye you are being absolutely ridiculous. So banish the very thought from your silly, sissy head. I am not kissing anyone who just sucked two cocks and swallowed about a half-pint of cum juice,” laughed Monique.
    “Let alone hug you after Sun-Kim just used your asshole as a sperm dump. So after you take a nice fragrant rectal douche you’d better scrub those teeth and gargle with about a bucket of antiseptic mouthwash. Then shower, shampoo those pretty auburn locks and scent your body thoroughly,” Monique demanded.
    “You should check your schedule Nicolette and if you are free from any interactions with Professors or Counselors you should nap until dinner,” intoned Madame Sofia.
    “Now. You have done quite well today, princess. I fully intend to take you home with Felicity and me next weekend. Just mind your P’s and Q’s until then. Madame Adele will fill you in during the week on our expectations for you. You will be kept busy, I can assure you,” stated Madame Monique.
    “Thank you so much for your kindness and love Madame. I love you dearly,” I simpered.
    “That is quite wonderful Nicolette. And the better you behave the nicer and more benevolent I can be dear. Now comport yourself properly and follow Sun-Kim back to your boudoir,” Monique instructed.
    As I minced behind Sun-Kim, with her practically pulling me along on a leash, I felt the full shaming and indignity of the morning and early afternoon. Sun-Kim for all appearances was as thrilled as she could possibly be.
   “Oh my stars, Nicolette. Getting a blow job from you and screwing your tight ass is some of the best sex I’ve had since I’ve been at the school. You are one hot, little bitch honey. I hope I can get some more of what you have baby-love,” she cooed.
    When we got to my door she kissed me and asked if she could come in while I showered.
    “No, Sun-Kim. You heard what Monique said. No screwing around or it would be very painful, for both of us. I need to douche, bathe and be by myself, Sun-Kim. Thank you for escorting me,” I said as I closed and locked the door.
    Once I had taken a really nice douche and shower, brushed my teeth and saturated myself in lotion and perfume, I took a nap. Thankfully when I dreamed, it was about Monique. In the dream, I walked into what I knew was her private boudoir.
    It did not look at all like any room in the house where we lived. Her hair was wet and she was in a dressing gown. I knew immediately to oil her hair and wrap it in a fluffy towel, turban style. Then I put lotion on her hands, wrists and face. Finally I oiled her feet and gave her a pedicure with sexy, crimson polish.
    I looked up at her and smiled most adoringly. “Silly girl. Don’t you know enough yet to suck my toes when the polish is dry?” Monique asked.
    “Yes, Madame,” I blushed and began sucking her toes. It was so erotic! So much so, that when I woke from the dream, the sanitary napkin I’d put between my cock and my panties was simply drenched with my nocturnal emission.
    I had an hour to go before dinner. As I dressed and did my makeup and hair, I thought of some of the things I’d heard Monique say. It sounded as if Felicity had some sort of role in Monique’s household.
    I wondered if Felicity now sucked Monique’s puss or if Monique buggered Felicity’s butt-hole? The thought made me jealous. Then I looked myself over in a full-length mirror. I was taller, more slender and had pointier boobs than Felicity.
    My hair was also thicker, and a prettier color. When I put my makeup on and dressed stylishly I was one hot chick. Felicity was plump and though her tits were bigger, my nipples were plumper. Besides, Monique was taking me as her wife, not Felicity. After dinner, heading back to my room, I decided to take a detour thru the “Hall of the Goddesses.”
    We had learned about various ancient Goddesses in our class entitled, “Female Deities Thru the Ages.” The most bewitching of the Goddesses to me was Freya, the Norse Goddess of Sorcery. She was revered by both the Norse Wicca’s as well as the Norse Shield Maidens.
    I decided to visit the room dedicated to Freya in the “Hall of the Goddesses. I recalled the story I’d read about the fierce Norse Shield Maidens. These Maidens were fearless Nordic Warriors that fought side by side with the male fighters.
    Shield Maidens rarely if ever married. They lived together in a communal lodge as loving sisters. Many practiced Lesbianism and often two lovers fought side by side in battle. They believed their womanly love would give them strength, together.
    After the Shield Maidens had vanquished an enemy they would prowl the defeated enemy’s camp searching for weaker, smaller, slightly built, prettier males that had accompanied the enemy’s army as cooks, servants and squires.
   Sometimes they might even find an enemy soldier that fit the mold of the males they were seeking. Possibly even an effeminate Prince or cowardly Duke that had hidden or ran from battle. Someone like that was always a prestigious prize for a shield maiden to take as a captive. 
    After the captives were rounded up they were tied together and led to the Wicca Lodge which was usually very near the Lodge of the Shield Maidens. The Wicca's were very much like the Maidens. They were single, independent females that never married and often reveled in lesbian lovemaking.
    The Wicca’s knew what to do with the frightened prisoners. They would begin by stripping them naked individually and poking their breasts, genitals and asses with sticks.
    With armed Shield Maidens protecting the Wicca’s, the Wicca’s would dance in a frenzy around the naked prisoners telling them how pretty they were. Finally they would let the captives sit in a large circle and eat and drink.
    The drink they would serve them was a very heavy sleeping draught, very nearly like a modern day anesthesia. When the captives passed out, the Shield Maidens would castrate them, cauterizing their wounds with heated metal instruments and then branding the captives as slaves.
    The Wicca’s would keep these captive castrates drugged and spellbound until they had healed. When the captives finally became cognizant of losing their precious testicles they would usually cry and blubber pitifully. The Wicca’s would now explain, that if the Castrates would pray to the Goddess Freya they would be given a new purpose.
    They would cast a hypnotic spell upon these Castrates and tell them, that they were all to be made very pretty. Those that were judged to be the prettiest, would go to live with the Shield Maidens as cooks, servants and body grooming attendants.
    The less pretty ones would serve the Wicca’s in the same capacities and more, even using their mouths sexually. The Wicca’s now set out to perform their magic. They made the captives’ bodies hairless with poultices they applied. Applications and ingestion of Herbs made the prisoners hips and breasts grow rounder and plumper.
    The Wicca’s made dyes from the roots and berries they collected. They used the same dyes to paint the lips and cheeks of these newly feminized slaves and to also tints to their now longer, prettier hair. They also used Kohl, a substance found in the ground to enhance the eyes of these newly feminized males.
    Finally they took heated tools and irons to curl and wave the now growing and colorful hair of these emasculated playthings.
    Lastly they taught these human play toys to make their own dresses, slippers, sandals and boots. These now very girlish creatures became quite competitive among themselves using the same root and berry dyes to make their clothing more colorful and appealing.
    The evening finally came when these pretty, emasculated beauties were paraded one by one into the Lodge of the Shield Maidens. They would prance and preen trying to be as pretty and coquettish as they possibly could, to the great amusement of the entire lodge.
    The Maidens would vote as a group to decide if they wanted to keep one of these darling new sissies or give the little lovely back to the Wicca’s. A majority vote would allow one of these pretty dolls to reside with the Maidens.
    If one of these colorfully dressed things could not garner a majority vote they remained the property of the Wicca’s. It was now part of the legend of Cassandra Winthrop that she had patterned the Cassandra Sisterhood upon the story of the Goddess Freya and the Norse Shield Maidens and their Wicca Sisters.
    I knew that I wanted to dearly be the wife of Monique Jocelyne Vieux-Cartouche. So, I knelt in front of the statue of Freya. I bowed my head and lowered my eyes. With my hands folded I implored the Goddess Freya.
    “Please dear Goddess and Sorcery Mistress, Freya. Allow me, Nicolette Raquel to become the emasculated property and wife of my very own Shield Maiden, Monique Jocelyne Vieux-Cartouche. May I always obey her and may she care for and protect me. I implore you, as the subservient Cassandra sissy, which I shall always be.”



Chapter IV: The Wiles and the Wisdom

    It was a whirlwind week for me, consisting of final exams, practices, recitations and rehearsals. The morning of the biggest day of my new life as of yet, I sat with my hot oil conditioned hair in front of my vanity at Winthrop.
    I wore a gorgeous dressing gown and a pair of Marabou’s, while surrounded by my luggage, makeup case and baggage cart. A light knock on my door revealed Sun-Kim and Felicity.
    “I’m here to do your hair and makeup as well as dress you for your big day. Felicity is going to take all of your belongings to Madame Vieux-Cartouche’s SUV,” Sun-Kim announced.
    Both Felicity and Sunny-Kim were pushing another luggage rack that had my gown, shoes, other cosmetics and accessories on it. Felicity told me to put my Marabou’s and dressing gown in a valise so she could get everything in Monique’s vehicle.
    So I sat naked until Sunny fitted me with heels and an uplift bra. She pointed towards the lacing pedestal and the lacing bar in my room. “I want to get a waist cinch on you honey,” Sun-Kim said.
    Standing in heels being snugged into a tight waist cinch is never pleasurable. Once it was over with, Sunny helped me get into a garter belt, panty-brief and hose. Now it was time to throw a shawl over my shoulders while she did my hair and makeup.
    “You’re going to make a lovely bride, Nicolette,” Sun-Kim gushed as she wound hot rollers into my damp hair. She carefully snugged every sectioned lock of hair around a mid-sized hot roller. My gown was a simple, white, lace-shift backless tea dress by Vera Wang. I wore matching white heels. On top of my curled Long Bob was perched a pink, birdcage veil, saucer cocktail hat with a bow.
    While Sun-Kim did my makeup and finger styled my curls we discussed much of what I’d learned that week from Adele and Doctors Filene and Blade.
    “Well, from what I understand this facility is licensed for drug and alcohol rehabilitation as well as a recovery center for transgender and battered females. I was admitted here for being under extreme psychoses and drug addiction in order for Monique to be given power of attorney for me,” I sighed.
    “I’m now basically penniless, homeless and legally divorced as Nick. As a transgendered pre-op transexual I’m lawfully Nicolette Raquel, the fiancee of Monique Vieux-Cartouche. I don’t mind at all. I enjoy things that way,” I smiled vacantly.
    “It’s for the best. I don’t have to think for myself. I never could make good decisions, so with Monique making all my decisions for me I’m safe from myself. All I have to do is keep myself pretty, sweet, well-comported and sexy and Monique will be pleased with me,” I laughed.
   “It isn’t hard to do, Sun-Kim. It’s what you do for Doctor Blade, isn’t it?” I asked.
    “Yes. Exactly, Nicolette. Let’s complete this face. You need more lipstick. Don’t fret. I’ll be with you where ever you go today, until Monique takes you off into the sunset. Then Felicity can assist you with your primping. You’ll learn a little more later,” Sun-Kim appraised.
   “Oops! Here’s Madame Adele. Time for your renaming ceremony,” Sun-Kim smiled.
    The wonderfully full-figured Madame Adele who had been my mentor since the day I rode the limo to Winthrop took me by the arm and escorted me down the “Hall of the Goddesses” to the very room I’d been in one week ago. The Chapel dedicated to the Goddess Freya, the Shield Maiden Sorcery Goddess.
    Seated in the benches were Miranda, Taffy, Felicity, Doctor Filene, Professor Land and Doctor Blade. They were present as witnesses. Sun-Kim seated herself as Madame Adele walked to the front of the room with me and had me kneel in from of Madame Sofia.
   Madame Sofia was now “Grand High Priestess Sofia” and dressed in the ceremonial robes which designated her a High Priestess in the Cassandra Sisterhood. I knelt, bowed my head and the ceremony began.
   “You young lady have been a complete failure as a boy and as a male person. We ladies belonging to the Cassandra Sisterhood have taken pity on you. You were emasculated to our exacting standards and we now see you as an adequate wife for one of our Sisters,” High Priestess Sofia stated.
    “In front of these seven witnesses, as prescribed by Cassandra dictates. And along with the power given to me as a High Priestess I bestow upon you the lovely appellation chosen by your husband Monique. From here on you will be called, Nicolette Raquel,” announced High Priestess Sofia.
    “Is there anyone present that believes this person should not become a girl of Cassandra? No? Then this is done. Madame Adele, prepare your charge to be wed,” the High Priestess intoned.
    I was now led to the main Cassandra Temple on campus. Madame Adele would be giving me away to my husband Monique. Sun-Kim was to be my maid of honor. Felicity and three sissies employed by the school were my bridesmaids.
    Miranda already stood by my handsome, strong husband Monique at the altar. She was Monique’s Best Sister. Madame Adele led me down the aisle on a leash with Sun-Kim beside me. My bridesmaids followed closely.
    When I reached the altar I was released from my leash and knelt on a step below Monique, right at her feet. I bowed my head in complete supplication.
    “Who is this feminine thing that enters our temple and comes to our altar?” Madame Sofia asked.
   “I am the supplicant Nicolette Raquel. I beg to be allowed to wed Madame Monique Vieux-Cartouche,” I simpered.
    “You do? Then beg her,” Madame Sofia ordered.
   “My dear Madame Monique, allow me to be your subservient bride today. I vow to keep myself chaste only for you. Please cleanse me of my past misdeeds by your choice of paddle, rattan cane or birch rod?” I begged.
    “I will choose the paddle. Sister Miranda, will you do the honors on my behalf?” Monique said to my surprise.
    “I would love to my Sister Monique. Raise the hem of this whore’s skirt, maid-of-honor,” Miranda said.
    I felt Sun-Kim raise my mini-dress only slightly and Miranda moved behind me and got in place. She didn’t take long to begin. I wasn’t quite ready for the power behind each blow she laid into me. I shuddered at the impact of each of the three paddle strokes and I heard the chants clearly.
    “Hail Cassandra! Hail Freya! All Hail the Sisterhood!”
    “You may now stand by Madame Monique’s side, Maiden Nicolette and be wed to her,” Madame Sofia announced.
    I stood shakily, still stunned from the paddle blows. I wiggled to the next step and stood delicately on my four-inch spike heels. Monique in riding boots and a Tuxedo looked down at me.
    “Do you Monique Vieux-Cartouche take your consort Nicolette to be your wife? Do you vow to care for her, instruct her and protect her as you would a child? To make her decisions for her, and to be sure she is governed by the laws of the Sisterhood?” Madame Sofia asked.
    “Yes High Priestess, I agree to those vows,” said Monique.
   “Nicolette, do you vow to love, honor and obey your husband in all matters, financial, domestic and sexual. To cook and clean for her, to keep yourself sexy, beautiful and as slender as your are today. For as long as Monique may own you?” Madame Sofia asked.
    “Yes, High Priestess, I vow to serve her at her whims,” I answered.
     “The rings please. With these diamonds I give ownership of Nicolette to Monique and to the Sisterhood. You may now kiss your bride Monique,” Sofia added.
    Monique took me in her arms. As she smothered me with our first kiss with her as my husband, she told me, “You will always belong to me Nicolette. From here on you are mine to control.”
    The reception was held in the Temple Banquet room. It was very intimate. During the reception I was taken aside by Taffy. She gave me a hug and then appraised me.
    “I’ve been chosen by Monique and Miranda to tell you this. It’s not about ruining your lovely day. It’s to let you know that Monique has led you around as if she had a ring in your nose for the past several months,” Taffy said.
   “This wedding, your name change, everything about you Nicolette has been planned and pre-ordained. Monique paid me to screw you. She’d have to with that puny cock you have. Then she had Miranda, her Cassandra Sister bring you over to her salon,” Taffy added.
   “That got you away from me but put you into Miranda’s clutches. Doctor Filene put you on all sorts of meds and after that it was just a matter of time before your were isolated from society at Winthrop. Everything fell into place after that,” Taffy smiled.
    “It was all done for your own good Nicolette and exactly as Monique planned it. I received a Cassandra membership recently and a promotion to Miranda’s assistant. From now on you work for me at the salon. I was glad to help. You weren’t much of a loyal husband to Miranda but I’ll bet you make a terrific wife Nicolette,” Taffy said as she gave me a sisterly peck on the cheek and an affectionate hug.
    “You are a very lucky girl, Nicolette. Monique is a big player in the K Street financial set. She’s also an up and comer in the Sisterhood. She’s going places. She thinks you’ll look great on her arm at an awards banquet. You’re her trophy wife,” Taffy explained.
    “In her social set, same-sex and transgender relationships are all the rage. You’ll both be fully accepted. Just look pretty, act dumb, be ladylike and you’ll play the role perfectly,” Taffy encouraged me.
    “Well thank you Taffy. I appreciate your candor. I’ll attempt to be a very loyal employee for you,” I said.
    “Oh, I’m sure you’ll be an asset. Most all of the Cassandra Sisters that come to the salon, love to have a sissy doing their hair as well as the hair of whatever sissy they bring with them. You’re going to be very popular Nicolette,” Taffy smiled.
    “And don’t fret. We’ll keep your hours as Monique prefers them. You’ll always be home on time to keep her house spotless, her meals cooked and her bed nice and hot. Plus you’ll have some help from Felicity. For the cooking and cleaning portion,” Taffy laughed.
    After the wedding, I was told by Madame Sofia to return in one week for graduation. I was given the pink cap and gown which I would wear to walk across the stage to receive my diploma.
    On the drive with Monique and Felicity back to what I thought would be the house in Alexandria I thought Felicity took a wrong turn. She was driving, as my husband Monique had imbibed in a few glasses of Scotch-on-the-Rocks. I was seated in the back seat.
    My husband Monique was in the passenger seat, turned towards me, and reaching over to rub my thigh. I finally spoke up.
   “Where are we going? We’re heading away from Alexandria,” I said.
    “Don’t worry my pet. We’re not taking you anywhere like Winthrop. It’s my last surprise for you. Other than the one I’m going to give you tonight in bed. I sold the house and bought a refurbished horse farm in the countryside south of Winthrop. It adds a half hour to my commute but I now have a ten hour, four day work week,” said Monique.
    “It has stables and I now own three horses. I board horses for numerous Cassandra Sisters and their up-and-coming young daughters. I sub out the groundskeeping to a contractor. You actually don’t have to work but I enjoy having a wife that is a cosmetologist. It’s just so girly,” Monique laughed.
    Upon arrival at the new farm, Felicity insisted on unpacking the SUV all by herself so that Monique and I could go to Monique’s boudoir. Everything in the SUV was going to my boudoir anyway.
   “We have separate boudoirs for privacy. I will always choose when we sleep together as well as which boudoir we use for lovemaking. For now, you will come to mine, my princess,” Monique laughed.
    She had laid out a virginal white baby doll set for me to wear. A tube of fresh lipstick was on the bedside table nearest to me. Upon Monique’s table was a dildo and a tube of lubricant. We slid under the covers together. Monique took the lead and pulled me to her.
    “We’ll hug and kiss and play with each other’s tits for a while. Then I want those red lips between my legs, kitten,” Monique added.

Chapter Five: Dutiful, Doting Wife 

    I was tightening the wave rods in Felicity’s newly platinum blonde tresses. I’d done the color for her a month ago at Miranda’s salon. Now Monique wanted me to give Felicity an Ogilvie home permanent wave.
    “I think she’d look so sweet and very girlie, with platinum blonde spirals. Don’t you, Nicolette,” Monique asked.
    I knew the answer she expected. “Yes, she’d look just precious, darling,” I simpered.
    She wanted me to experiment with a home perm in case she didn’t enjoy the results. Home perms generally did not last as long as salon perms. If she thought the spiral perm was the way to go, I’d give Felicity a salon perm the next time she needed more curl.
    I’d section off her hair and take a perm paper and waving rod from the kit and carefully wind each sectioned strand of hair very tightly onto each individual rod. I was giving her a stacked, spiral perm, just as Monique had suggested.
   I’d rarely if ever do anything Monique did not suggest. Why on earth would I? I certainly did not want to suffer the consequences of doing anything she didn’t have a preference for.
    Our marital arrangement was based on that premise. She was the decision maker even as to how I prepared the food and kept the house perfectly spotless. She decided on the clothing I wore, how I did my makeup and what style and color my hair was.
    I was the one responsible for carrying out her instructions and seeing to it that she was very happy and satisfied. When I had hired Felicity (Felix then) to do shampoos at the salon, she’d been in Junior College taking secretarial classes. She’d now graduated and begun working as Monique’s Administrative assistant.
    She now traveled with Monique, went to meetings with her, answered her calls and welcomed her investment clients. There was a certain “look” Monique wanted her secretary to have, and she was experimenting with that “look” with Felicity.
    She preferred having a sissy for an Admin, especially when it came to travel. Often, a female admin, even a single girl might have the responsibility of a boyfriend to contend with and business travel might get in the way of that.
   With Felicity, as well as any sissy, she would be at Monique’s beck and call 24/7. Additionally, in the world of the Cassandra Sisterhood, any sissy subordinate employee was a status symbol and a true, “Feather in the Cap, for an “up-and-comer,” such as Monique was.
   For her own look, Monique preferred a very “austere,” and stately appearance. Her inclinations leaned towards, dark, mannishly cut suits, worn with lighter, but still darkish, turtleneck tops. She now kept her hair in an off-black shade worn with a very sleek, shiny, sophisticated, chin-length, inverted bob.
   Her one clothing concession to femininity was wearing tallish, sometimes even four-inch heels to accentuate her domineering height even more so. She wore her makeup quite differently and more blended than most. Her blusher, foundation and eye shadow were kept soft, light, pinkish and to a tasteful minimum.
   However, her mascara and eyebrow pencil were done with a deep, dark, very harsh, disdainful air, in mind. She also used a very dusky shade of “Eldorado Red” lipstick which had a rich Burgundy hue to it. This contrast of soft, pale, pinkish cheeks and eyelids with plump, shadowy, pronounced lips, along with haughty severe brows and lashes, gave Monique an almost predatory, icy, “Vampirish” aura.
    To that end, she wanted her Secretary, in this case Felicity, to project an almost fluttery, very feminine, girlish quality, to be in deep contrast to Monique’s “Ice Queen” airiness. To Monique, business was a game which she played quite well.
    To her credit, her cerebral tactics worked to her best advantages. The very Saturday after Monique hired Felicity she took her out shopping for new outfits. They went to a very upscale ladies wear shop, where they sold some of the fussiest ensembles that were ever paraded down a Parisian runway.
    From then on everything which Felicity wore to work or for work travel consisted of frills, feathery furbelows, fussy flounces, colorful ribbons, ornate appliqués and bubbly bows. Monique went so far as to instruct Felicity on entering a room.
    “I want you to be the center of attention girl, wherever we are. You have the figure for it. Especially if we highlight your corseted waist with a truly bulbous bow tied prettily behind you back,” Monique stated.   
    “You’re going to be wearing the largest butt plug you can tolerate. I want those tits bouncing and that ass swaying from side to side. With a nice exaggerated pussy-bow at the neck of your dress, the eyes of all the men in the room will center on your prominent bust,” Monique promised.
   “That’s another reason I want your hair platinum with plenty of curls. Every guy in the room will be thinking of banging my secretary after the meeting is over. While you steal their hearts, I’ll be sealing the deal in our favor,” laughed Monique.
    Once I had Felicity’s perm tightly wrapped I tucked a towel into the collar around her Georgette blouse and tied a gauze snugly around the perimeter of the stacked perm rods. Then I used the applicator bottle to apply the very odorous perm lotion.
    “Oh my. When will someone finally invent a permanent waving solution that doesn’t have such a pungent smell? Why does anyone even want to get a perm?” Felicity asked.
    “In your case your employer insists she wants you in curly, girly, curls honey. Many women and of course sissies get perms because their husbands like curly hair,” I explained.
    “You’re getting a cold wave. This will be less harsh on your hair if I don’t use heat. Would you like a Cosmo or a Marie Claire to read while the curl takes?” I asked.
    When Felicity’s perm was completed and I’d styled and sprayed her hair I did her makeup. Monique was in the home office making a few calls and doing bills and other paperwork. She wanted to see Felicity when the perm and makeup were completed.
    “Come along Felicity. I’m to show you off to Monique,” I said.
    “I’ve never worn my makeup this heavy. I feel like a call girl,” Felicity whined.
    “That’s the look Monique wants for you, dear,” I simpered.
    I knocked lightly and entered the home office. Monique held her hand up with a finger raised. She was on her cell phone. When she saw Felicity she smiled and her eyes lit up.
    “Miranda, thanks for the update. I’m going to call it a day on the Saturday paperwork. My two pretty girls just waltzed in. Nicolette just gave Felicity the cutest spiral home permanent and I want to take a good look at it. I know, that is so cute. My sissy wife giving her sissy friend, also my sissy Admin a home perm,” Monique laughed as she got off her call.
    “Well that is just perfect. Pose for me girl and twirl. I know what I want you to do. Go back out the door and sashay back in here. I want to see that butt sway and those boobs bounce. Oh that strut! Now that is even more perfect,” Monique laughed as Felicity followed her instructions to the letter.
    You must wonder, of course, if I feel jealous at all, that Felicity takes business trips with Monique? Or works late with her at the office? Or that she goes out after work with Monique when Monique wants to have a few drinks at a McPherson Square hotspot?
    The answer is no. First off I have no right to be jealous. I was the one that vowed on our wedding day to keep myself chaste for my husband. Monique took no such vow. If Monique wanted to bring a real, he man stud into the home to screw her regularly that would be her business.
    Even if she wanted a “noon quickie” on a Saturday, from the handsome young Latino who vacuums our swimming pool and adds the chemicals. That would be up to her, not me. I have no say so in Monique’s sex life. In fact, she has had a few female lovers since we were married.
    For the most part, besides her predilection for having a sissy around the house, ever since Monique became a member of Cassandra she has recommitted herself to being a Butch Lesbian.
    Her most recent occasional Lesbian partner, Candace, works for her as a Money Manager. They get together, sleep together and make love in Monique’s boudoir on the order of about 5 evenings per month.
    Most of the rest of the evenings my husband Monique takes me in her arms and treats me as her subservient, loving lesbian wife. That is all I care about. It’s interesting but she met Candace when she was interviewing Candace for her current position. Candace had just completed the MBA program at a very prestigious all-female university.
    Whenever Monique conducts an interview she invites in the Head of Human Resources, the Office Manager and her right hand lady, the Chief Account Manager. Of course Felicity is taking notes.
    In Candace’s case, as the interview came to an end, Monique turned to Felicity and nodded. Felicity knew exactly what to do.
    “Come with me Ms. Candace,” Felicity said.
    When they arrived at Felicity’s reception area, Felicity had Candace seat herself. “I believe you are in, Ms. Candace, or Ms. Vieux-Cartouche would have already told you she’d be in touch. Let those four sort things out. I’ll take you back in shortly,” smiled Felicity.
    “Ms. Vieux-Cartouche loved your alma mater. She is partial to employees that attended all-female universities. She finds there is a true unity among the sisterhood of females,” Felicity said.
    “Oh, and I agree. A woman can’t get anything done at a co-ed school with brainless men bantering about, all of them trying to get laid,” Candace said shaking her head.
    “I’ll take you back to Madame Vieux-Cartouche’s office. She just sent me a text,” Felicity added.
    When Candace returned to Monique’s office. Monique told me the conversation went something like this; “Please be seated Candace. Well we all agree you and only you are the woman for the job,” smiled Monique.
    “Oh, Ms. Vieux-Cartouche, I’m so thrilled!” Candace exclaimed.
    “We are also Candace. And please Candace, during private moments like this, just call me Monique. In fact Candace I’d like to get to know you well enough that we could be on a first name basis much of the time,” Monique smiled.
    “I don’t know what to say, er, Monique? Except that I’d like that also. So what would you suggest, Monique, ma’am?” Candace asked.
    “Well the sooner the better I’d say. You know Candace, I couldn’t help but notice your sorority ring from Bryn Mawr. The Sapphic Braided Rope, surrounding a White Rose,” Monique smiled.
     “It’s from the Sister’s of Sappho. A national sorority with a membership strictly limited to lesbians and bi-sexual, lesbian leaning females. Interesting, I would say,” Monique added.
    “Yes, that’s correct. I haven’t been with a male since I was fifteen. I’m observant myself. This financial house is predominantly female. Plus, you, as well as the three other ladies interviewing me, displayed pinky rings exhibiting the Black Rose of Cassandra,” winked Candace.
    “Why not dinner at my estate, tomorrow, then? Saturday, at Six PM? My wife Nicolette and my Admin Felicity will cook and clean. Then you and I can retire to my boudoir, drink some Brandy and get better acquainted,” Monique said.
    “And your wife won’t mind?” Candace asked.
    “Let’s just say we have a very open marriage from my end of the spectrum,” laughed Monique.
    When Monique arrived home, she told me about the dinner to be cooked and asked that I not wear curlers and face cream to bed Saturday night.
    “I want you fresh and pretty Sunday morning when you serve us breakfast in bed, at 9 AM, Nicolette,” Monique instructed.
    Dinner was perfect. I brought Brandies and coffee to Monique’s boudoir after dinner. She and Candace were already naked and kissing when I arrived there. And in the morning when I brought in the Veggie Omelets, buttered wheat toast, hot herbal tea and fresh fruit cup, I saw the most lovely sight.
   Two women, naked, peacefully and blissfully together after a night of lovemaking. Candace was leaning against Monique’s right breast, drawing imaginary circles on the swollen nipple with her index finger. Monique had her arm around Candace, running her fingers thru Candace’s red hair.
    When I asked if anyone wanted sweetener with their tea, Candace asked for Agave. Monique then showed she’d already exerted her dominance in the relationship.
    “Never mind what Candace just said, Nicolette. Candace we just agreed you would be going on a diet today. Last night you even admitted you needed to lose a few pounds. Both you and Felicity need to diet and exercise more,” Monique intoned.
    “I’m sorry darling. Yes, I’m getting too plump. Cancel the agave order Nicolette,” Candace agreed.
    Monique didn’t want Candace to lose weight because she likes skinny women. She did that to establish the Butch and the Femme in that relationship.
    These days, Candace rides horses with us at the estate. And I know that every time we ride, when we get back to the house, she and Monique will be getting in the jacuzzi together and afterwards get into bed to make love.
    I simply adore female to female love. To me it is the purest and truest form of love.

 Chapter Six: Salon Princess

    I returned to work at Miranda’s newest and largest salon two weeks after the wedding. Monique was saving an exciting honeymoon trip for our First Anniversary.
   I was only mildly apprehensive about Taffy being my immediate supervisor. I really wasn’t at all that surprised that I’d been completely set-up by Monique, Taffy, Miranda and the rest of their associates in the Sisterhood. And I knew I deserved every bit of it. 
    I realized that right then, I was again a hairdresser and no longer a manager. I worked for Miranda as well as Taffy. In fact, as a sissy, any female in the salon could have me do something for them. Though most would go thru Miranda or Taffy prior to assigning me a task.
    My first customer on my initial day back was Doctor Johnna Filene. She’d brought her older sister’s 18 year-old sissified son, “Patricia”. Patricia had been living as a female since she was fourteen. She was home-schooled by a private tutor. She also had a governess.
    “It’s wonderful to see you again, Nicolette. We both need a wash, condition and cut. I want Patsy to have a roller set,” Johnna instructed.
    “Auntie Johnna, please call me Patricia, please. I’m not a child auntie,” Patricia simpered.
    “Yes of course dear,” Johnna smiled.
    I politely asked Cheryl, a young blond shampoo girl to do Patricia’s shampoo and condition. “Yes, of course I will sissy. Just as long as you ask me nicely and sweetly, like a good girl is supposed to ask,” she said.
    “I’m really quite pleased that you are adjusting so very well to your enforced emasculation, Nicolette. It isn’t everyone that I deal with in these matters that can so smoothly transition into such a graceful, adorable female as you have become,” Doctor Johnna stated.
    “It behooves me to be of the opinion that we made the correct decision to fast track you such as we did. You’ve transitioned so naturally, that I’d have to imagine there really was a pretty girl trapped just below the surface inside of you,” she smiled.
    “I am thrilled we were able to release her from within her prison and allow you to finally find your truly feminine self, Nicolette. I can already see you are much happier, confident and self-assured as a young lady than you ever were,” Doctor Filene said as she patted my buttocks.
    I sectioned and trimmed Doctor Filene’s tresses and listened intently as she chatted about her sister and the rearing of Patricia. Listening well was one of my attributes as a sissy stylist. I’d never dream of interrupting a female client as she spoke to me while I did her hair.
    Often, they would tell me what a “living doll” I was for being such a good listener. I’d only comment or give an opinion when asked. When I thought about it, the description of me as a “living doll” was extremely apropos.
    When I had completed Johnna’s haircut, I scrunched in some sculpting lotion. Then I tousled her tresses and left them as such. Allowing the sculpting lotion to set before I did her blow dry.
    I then went to work on Patricia’s haircut and roller set. During her roller set Patricia sighed and asked, “Ouch! Do you have to roll my hair so tightly Miss Nicolette?”
    “Patricia, mind your manners. Yes, she does need to roll your hair tightly. You know that. A proper roller set should always be nice and tight for the hair to set properly. Nicolette darling, please excuse her. My sister just texted. Could you set up a manicure for my niece while she’s under the dryer? Frosted Coral Pink if possible?”
    “Yes, of course Ms. Johnna. Oh here’s Miranda, now. She’ll take care of that for you. Good morning Madame Miranda,” I said, inadvertently curtsying to Miranda.
    “Well now, I liked that! Very nicely done. A cute, pert curtsey. You know Nicolette. I don’t see why you shouldn’t curtsey to Taffy and I throughout business hours, do you? I’ll let Taffy know. She’ll love it,” smiled Miranda.
    “Johnna darling. I just heard from your sister. I have a manicurist on her way. It looks like Patricia is just about ready for the hair dryer. Give her a “Teen Queen” mag to read until Tamar gets here to varnish her nails, Nicolette,” Miranda added as she walked away.
    Tamar arrived a few minutes later and began painting Patricia’s nails. Shortly after she was done, the bell on the dryer sounded and I returned Patricia to my styling station. I’d just finished blowing dry and spraying Johnna’s hair and she was quite happy with her stylization.
    Just about the time I was putting the last curlicue into Patricia’s cute “Bubble Do” I heard Johnna sigh and saw her roll her eyes.
    “Not again. This has happened before both at the dress shop and the salon. Patricia has managed to get a huge erection. It’s practically pushing thru her skirt. Her governess very likely forgot to milk her in the A.M. and Patricia isn’t wearing a brief or a gaff. I’ll get Miranda. Someone will have to masturbate Patricia,” Johnna whispered.
   When Miranda arrived at the scene she instructed me to put Patricia in a longer salon cape to hide her boner. Then we escorted her to Miranda’s office. By now Patricia was sobbing slightly and apologizing for the unsightly lump in her skirt.
   “It’s fine honey. Take the cape off of her and have her sit on the couch. Patricia we’re going to have you sit in Miss Nicolette's lap and she will be milking you my precious darling,” Miranda said to my shock and surprise.
    Miranda saw the look on my face and hissed, “Yes, you’re going to milk her, sissy. It’s part of your duties. Don’t concern yourself with Monique. She already knows this is included in your job description. I’m certainly surprised no one had informed you yet,” Miranda added.
    “Pull your skirt up and take off your panty Patricia. Miss Nicolette will be over shortly. Here’s the hand lotion. Here’s a warm wash cloth to sop up the mess. Let her sit in your lap and hug you. Sometimes kissing her on the lips will speed things up,” Miranda counseled.
    So as the obedient sissy I am, I walked over and got into position to allow the slightly built Patricia to climb into my lap and place her arms around my neck. Then I creamed my hands with a generous portion of hand lotion. I took hold of her genitals and began to massage her penis as well as her testicles.
    Her erection had not even subsided yet so I didn’t think it would take long. Patricia was really hot and ready. She tongued my face and bit my ear. Then she began to pucker her lips and kiss me on the mouth.
    “Oh Miss Nicolette, you smell so nice and you’re so very pretty. Oh kiss me and make me your sissy girlfriend please?” Patricia mewled.
    I glanced over at Miranda who nodded and puckered her own lips to tell me to kiss the little sissy as I jerked her off. My masturbation technique and my kissing worked well. As I slid my hand up and down her slender shaft, Patricia French-kissed me lovingly with plenty of tongue.
    Then she stiffened and her cock pulsed. As she squirted her gooey discharge she gasped and shrieked. I cooed to her and said, “There we go little girl, now wasn’t that nice?”
    As soon as she quieted down I wiped her penis and testicles with the warm washcloth. Then I snugged her panties into place. Lastly I kissed her on the cheek and patted her butt. Patricia looked at me dreamily.
    I wasn’t certain if she knew I was a sissy-girl or not? I do know she said to Johnna, “Auntie when we come back to the salon can Miss Nicolette do my hair again?”
    When Johnna paid her bill she turned to me and gave me what amounted to a large 25% gratuity. “You deserve it darling. You know Nicolette, if you weren’t a sissy I’d hire you as a governess. That is the quickest I have ever seen her milked,” Johnna laughed.
    That evening when I crawled into bed with Monique she said nothing to me about the day until after I’d sucked her pussy and she’d climaxed. After that she pulled me to her and began by biting one of my nipples.
    “My gosh I love these tits. I paid so much to make these tits so pretty. Do you love your tits, Nicolette?” Monique asked.
    “Yes, Monique I do love them. Very, very much so. I realize they go a long way to making me the attractive girl people perceive me as. I also love it when you pay such loving attention to them. It makes me feel gushy, girly and cared for,” I smiled.
    “Well, you are cared for. I spoke to Johnna, your therapist, this afternoon, by the way. I understand you were assigned to masturbate her sissy niece Patricia, today? That must have been interesting? It is a part of Miranda’s expectations for you also,” Monique confirmed.
    “Hmm? I wonder why so many sissies become so very erotically excited inside a beauty parlor? Is it all the pretty ladies in various stages of beautification? Is is all the pretty scents mixed together? Is it the excitement of being made into a pretty girl, with curlers, hairspray and makeup? What do you think it is my pretty wife, Nicolette? Monique asked as she massaged my penis with Cold Cream all over both her hands.
    “I don’t know?” I gasped.
    “Oh, yes you do girl. You’ve become erected in a beauty salon before and don’t tell me you haven’t. I’ll bet it’s the tightness of the rollers in your hair and the floral scent of the setting lotion when you set under a domed dryer, isn’t it?” Monique teased as she massaged both my cock and balls with both her creamy hands.
    “Get on all fours, sissy-French-poodle style for mommy. We’ll continue this interrogation with a buzzing vibrator up your ass. There. Now might it be sitting in front of a set of wrap around mirrors with a head full of curlers watching your face get painted?” Monique asked as the humming vibrator went in and out of my ass in a circular motion.
    “Oh Monique! Oh wow, darling! Oh that’s fantastic!” I squeaked.
    “What is, pray tell, my sissy? The picture of you in the mirror with cosmetics slathered all over your pretty face and a head full of big, round curlers? If you’re going to be my sissy-French-poodle, you need to yap like one. Come now, yap like a little poodle honey,” she commanded.
    “Yip, yip! Yip, yip, yip!” I barked.
    “Very, very, good girl! My sissy-poodle is getting very close to a shuddering climax, isn’t she? One last thing. Do you recall how sexy you looked when I had Miranda give you that perm for the company Christmas party we went to? Hmm, sweetie? Oh, I knew that would do it,” she laughed as I bucked and sprayed semen all over the bed.
    She was right though. I looked seriously hot for her company Christmas party. Guys were hitting on me even though they knew I was the “Ice Queen’s” lesbian wife.

Conclusion

    It was a beautiful late summer’s night in Bermuda. We were there for our delayed honeymoon on our first anniversary. We’d spent an entire two weeks there. We were staying at the Governor’s Club Resort in a sprawling Cabana.
    We’d just left the Governor’s Country Club where we’d dined, drank and danced that evening. Earlier in the evening in the ballroom a number of men had come to our private table and asked us to dance.
    Monique had declined for both of us, saying we were waiting for someone. Finally though, we’d went to the dance floor together, to dance cheek to cheek to the Etta James classic, “At Last.”
    Then, everyone knew why the two very attractive, beautifully gowned, females had not danced with the many handsome men who had asked them to dance. They all had to realize from the way Monique and I held each other that we were lesbian lovers.
   As we walked in our heels back to our cabana. Monique put her arm around me. “We fly back to Washington, DC in two days. I’m going to let you suck my pussy in the morning. Tonight I’m climbing on top of you and letting you put your modest swollen sissy-clit inside of me,” she purred.
    As always Monique set the parameters. And just as we sat in bed, snuggling, wearing our nightgowns, Monique’s cell phone rang. Her eyes opened wide as she stared at the number. “Oh goodness I can’t believe that cloying bitch is calling me right now? Let me get this darling. Where is your clit? Let me fondle it while I talk, please?” Monique asked.
    It was her occasional lover and employee, Candace. “Hello Candace. Yes, I’m fine. Yes it is a very bad time. My wife and I are vacationing in Bermuda. Yes, that’s why you hadn’t heard from me. I thought everyone at the office knew?” Well, don’t hang up. It must have been important. What is it Candace?” Monique asked, I am certain, just to make Candace feel awful.
    “What? You want to expand our relationship? You want to see me and have intimate moments together more frequently. Candace I thought you knew me better than that? None of that is negotiable. Candace, if you feel we don’t see each other enough and you need more from a lover, you need to buy some slutty new clothes and prowl the lesbian single’s night spots on New York Avenue, dear,” Monique added as only she could.
    “For goodness sake Candace stop crying! You know I dislike weak, dithering females that cry. That’s better. No, I am not dumping you. I’m reminding you of my limits. Correct. If I’m satisfied you have to be also. Hmm? Yes, I am angry with you,” Monique smiled coldly.
    “Of course I’m going to punish you. The next time we are together I will cane you severely. Yes that’s correct. With a rattan cane imported from Singapore where public canings are a form of entertainment,” Monique laughed.
   “Just one last thing before I hang up Candace. I am going to weigh you on my scale when we next see each other. And if you’ve gained even one pound since I last weighed you, I’m going to put your fat ass into the tightest corset Nicolette owns,” Monique smirked.
    “Now take a Valium, drink a tall glass of Brandy, set your hair in large curlers and give yourself a green clay facial. And I want to see selfies when I next see you, for proof. Finally, watch a chick-flick and make sure you sleep in the curlers and facial. Goodnight Candace. Sweet dreams my pet,” Monique whispered.
   “Now where were we before that rude interruption? Oh yes, I want you to get an erection and I want to climb on top. Come here. Let me kiss you. You’re a wonderful kisser Nicolette. Yum, it’s getting bigger. On your back. I want to take a ride,” Monique ordered.
    “Oh yes. If I manipulate things properly, your sissy-clit will contact my real clitoris and stimulate me even more. Play with my tits Nicolette. Much better,” Monique sighed.
    I adored when we made love like this. Of course I never mounted her as a male might. I was no longer considered as such. As I swelled up, an unusually benevolent Monique said, “You may come when you are ready, darling. After all love, it is our anniversary.”
    It could have been her recent shaming of Candace? I don’t know. I do know that Monique thrives on feelings of power. Who knows? But when I finally did gush inside my husband’s pussy, Monique pulled me into her and with uncharacteristic affection said, “Happy honeymoon and wedding anniversary Nicolette. I love you my darling wife.”
    Certainly for me this was truly uplifting and rewarding. I was still feeling rushes from that night and the following morning’s lovemaking. Since that honeymoon a few things have changed around the estate.
    For Felicity’s birthday, Monique gave her Admin a raise and a nice bonus, along with the title to the Buick sedan Felicity usually drove to run errands. With the bonus and the raise, Felicity and her boyfriend, Alejandro, were able to put a down payment on a nice cottage.
    Yes, Felicity has a boyfriend. For some time, Felicity tried awkwardly to have sexual episodes with females, but I knew from the time I hired her, as Felix, that she was a sweet, swishy, effeminate homosexual. Alejandro is a young man who owns the fledging landscaping company that takes care of the landscaping for Monique on the horse farm.
    His sister is a Cassandra member who told Monique about Alejandro’s new business. Monique was impressed and unhappy with the current landscapers so she hired Alejandro’s company. The very first Saturday morning he showed up, Felicity commented, “My gosh, what a cute hunk of man-meat he is!”
    Later I introduced myself to him as Monique’s wife and Alejandro didn’t seem to be phased. I pointed to Felicity who was getting in her car to go shopping.
    “She really thinks your cute. Except she’s a little different than most girls,” I added.
    “She is gay? She likes boys and girls?” Alejandro asked.
    “No, she is a girly-boy. A sissy-boy,” I added with a shrug.
    “I know what you mean. My sister has a sissy-boy for a housekeeper. That is okay with me. My sister’s housekeeper is a very hot looking sissy-chick. I could do her,” Alejandro laughed.
    Later, Monique and I had lunch and saw a movie. When we got back we could hear panting and squealing from Felicity’s boudoir. I was going to check when Monique stopped me.
   “No. Don’t. She’s having sex with someone. It sounds like she’s having fun. She’s giggling like a well-pleasured female right now. Let’s eat doll,” Monique suggested.
    We were in the kitchen, noshing, when both Alejandro and Felicity entered. They were blushing and mildly embarrassed. Monique took charge.
    “Hey kids. Felicity and Alejandro, why don’t you sit down and have lunch with us? Nicolette just made some terrific BLT sandwiches, with unsweetened Herbal tea.
    “Gracias Señora. That is so very nice of you,” Alejandro said, winking at Felicity and taking her by the hand.
    Once Felicity moved out Candace asked if she could move in. Monique would not have it. “I told her never. Plus I have a surprise for her the next time we get together.”
    No one, including me, ever wants that kind of surprise from Monique. Besides spanking Candace with a hairbrush in front of me, Monique dressed her as a maid for the entire day. I was uncomfortable about that especially when Monique had her wait on me for lunch and dinner.
    I wouldn’t think of lording it over Candace. Paybacks, in the Sisterhood can be really frightening. Monique, as the way of teaching Candace a lesson, now limits her to three evenings a month, which gives us more lovemaking time together.
    Not that I don’t enjoy seeing my handsome husband in bed with a pretty female when I serve them breakfast in the morning. I consider myself extremely fortunate the Cassandra Sisterhood corrected nature’s error.

The End