By Priscilla Bouffant
The journey of a sensitive boy, from his Auntie’s darling pet, to an appealing, sensuous, sought after sissy concubine.
Chapter I: Demure and Darling
Once auntie knew that mom and her boyfriend were now both blackjack dealers, she became my legal guardian. She knew I was better off without mother. It wasn’t until I was thirteen that I really began to misbehave.
Auntie Phaedra didn’t have time for that sort of nonsense. She had just opened her third beauty salon. This new one was the largest and the most high-end yet. She called it, “The Pampered Princess.” It was a really exclusive, full-service, day spa and salon. Once I got out of hand Auntie Phaedra knew just what to do.
She simply put me in dresses, curls, makeup and high heels. As soon as I got home from school, one of her female employees, would take me downstairs to Auntie’s home, basement beauty salon, and dress me up and make me pretty. The home, basement salon was Auntie Phaedra’s very first beauty parlor.
After she opened the other two she only used the basement salon for really close friends, family and special customers. And of course, to petticoat and prettify me. Dressing me up after school and on weekends was her way of keeping me out of trouble. And any of her well-compensated lady stylists were always willing to doll me up and supervise me doing housework and/or homework until Auntie got home.
The thing is, I really started to like being beautified. By the time I was fourteen I really enjoyed the pretty ladies making a big fuss over me when they did my long hair in a curly updo and put makeup on me. Tiffany, who later ran a beauty school which I would attend, was one of the first to admit to Auntie that she thought I was a sissy.
“Marti really likes getting prettied up Phaedra. By the time he’s dressed and under the hair-dryer, he’s got a cute little lump in his panties. I think he looks forward to dressing up and having his hair done,” Tiffany said.
My birth name was Martin Clayton Royce. Auntie Phaedra later gave me her last name, Chambery. The summer I turned 16, Auntie and I took a vacation to a mountain lodge she owned. She decided I’d be her “niece” for the entire two weeks. I was introduced to everyone we met, as Martina Caprice Chambery.
By the time we got back from the vacation, my fate was sealed. Her decision was, that I would continue to dress as a female whenever she determined that she wanted me to. She was also going to change my everyday wardrobe to something more unisex and androgynous. She would enroll me in a vocational school where I would take morning classes in Business Administration/Secretarial.
Afternoons, I would drive a short distance to the Cosmetology Academy that her former employee, Tiffany, now managed. Auntie planned to have me work at her new salon as a hairdresser and also be involved in keeping her books. I wouldn’t do the taxes. She had a CPA for that. But I’d keep an eye on inventory, employee hours, supplies and such.
By now I could do my own hair and makeup when Auntie wanted me to dress as Martina. We’d become very close. I loved giving her foot-rubs when she got home from a long day running her business. Then, I’d make her a drink. I loved painting her toes or doing her hair. I even gave her baths.
Yes, there was a sexual tension between us at times. She took great pleasure in taking me shopping at ladies’ boutiques and picking out “boyishly cut” women’s slacks, tops, and suit sets. The more embarrassed I was, the more she seemed to enjoy it.
Once, she bought me a suit-shorts set that no male would ever wear. As she had me model it for her she agreed with the sales girl that I was going to turn heads wearing it. Purchasing lingerie was even more embarrassing, as was ladies’ hosiery. Lastly, she bought me several handbags and ladies’ shoes, from flats up to three-inch heels.
One Friday as I left for school she informed me, “This Sunday, I will be doing your hair here at the house. At the new salon, we just got in a brand-new line of cosmetics from Anastasia of Beverly Hills. We’re going to pick out some things you can wear to school as well as when I want to see Martina Caprice.”
I was fortunate that at the Cosmetology Academy, a guy wearing androgynous clothing and light cosmetics wouldn’t exactly be a shocker. Plus, at the Vo-tech Business/Secretarial school, the student body was 95% females. Most of the girls thought I was “cute” anyway, so maybe they’d like me with makeup?
Sunday, auntie made me remove every last hair on my body from the neck down. Then she had me take a scented bubble bath. She dressed me in a really fluffy pink robe and high-heeled slippers with a pink ball of fluff at the instep. Then she took me downstairs to her first ever beauty salon.
I was really surprised when I got downstairs to see Tiffany sitting in one of the chairs reading a fashion mag. “Hi Marti. Ready to get all beautiful for us? Want me to give him a shampoo and condition Phaedra? Then I’ll start on his nails,” Tiffany said.
“Use the protein conditioner. I want his toes Coral pink. For now, we can use that clear nail lacquer we mixed with just a hint of hot pink in it, on his fingernails. But I want a set of short extenders put on, so his nails can grow in healthier and stronger,” my aunt added.
It wasn’t until Tiffany was giving me my manicure and my aunt was cutting and shaping my hair that I got an erection. Tiffany started laughing and my aunt tried her best not to act concerned, but she finally said, “My goodness, you certainly like getting all dollied up, don’t you Martina? Well, I’m not standing here looking at that boner poking thru your robe all day. Tiff, could you do the honors?” Aunt Phaedra asked.
I wasn’t certain what she meant until Tiffany stopped painting my nails and Auntie sat down in a chair along the wall. Tiffany got some baby oil and knelt in front of me. She opened my robe and poured the baby oil into her hands. She completely coated her hands by rubbing them together. Then, as Auntie read a Cosmo mag, Tiffany began to massage my erection!
I gasped in surprise and Tiffany just giggled. “Nothing like a cock massage at the beauty parlor, is there Martina Caprice? Don’t worry honey. Once we’re all done, you’ll be nice and relaxed, and you can really enjoy your makeover,” Tiffany teased.
I closed my eyes and thru tossed back my damp, shoulder length hair. It felt a little different. I was unaware of the girly hair cut auntie had begun to give me. I was stiffened to the max. Tiffany cooed to me and then bent down and tongue the end of my penis. That was all it took. I was soon spurting as she covered the head of my cock with a warm washcloth.
Tiffany was laughing as she cleaned me up. I looked back behind me and auntie was right there watching Tiffany wipe off my cock. “I can’t have you constantly walking around aroused when I have you in girly clothing Martina. I’ll not be milking you off as a rule either. I might have to take you to my Gynecologist for some blockers or hormone shots,” auntie mused.
Tiffany completed my manicure and went to mix the hair color auntie was using. It wasn’t until auntie brushed out my recently trimmed and stylized hair, that I realized she had given me such a girly hairstyle, which no male would ever wear.
My tresses had been cut and shaped into a tapered and stacked, long inverted bobbed haircut with fluffy bangs! In the back, my hair had been clipped to the nape of my neck and stack-layered. The hair on the sides of my head was much longer and shaped along my chin line. The sides were so long they hung an inch or two over my shoulders.
My mouth was wide open, and I was in shock. Dressing as a girl in private or out with my aunt all femme was one thing. But dressed in unisex style clothes, with an obvious, very girlish, long bob hairstyle was another. But my Aunt Phaedra was hardly finished.
She sat me down at the shampoo sink and used the color Tiffany had mixed to completely color my newly cut locks. She used a squirt bottle to apply it and her gloved hands worked it into my scalp. She let it set and when the timer went off I was back in front of the mirror as she used sculpting lotion, a brush and blow dryer to style my hair into a perfect movie-star salon “do.”
I couldn’t believe I was going to go to secretarial and then beauty school with this hairdo. “Tiffany. She looks too pretty right now to waste on her everyday clothes. Let’s get her looking really girly,” my aunt stated. And indeed, they did.
I had never worn a waist cinch until that day. I couldn’t believe how tight they snugged it. They put me in a tight panty girdle and attached seamless hose. I slithered into a gray pencil skirt. After a padded bra was fastened on they had me wear this absolutely overly fussy and frilly, fuchsia blouse.
I wore my first pair of three-inch heels that day. As I was 5’9” anyway, they made me look quite tall. Then they sat me down and applied full evening makeup to my face. “You’re going to really need a lot of high-heel walking practice sweetie. I’m going to be putting you in higher and higher heels,” my aunt added.
When she posed me in the mirror I was so surprised. Not only was my hair cut girly, but the dark blond shade of my hair wasn’t exactly a color most guys would want their hair to be. But with the cinnamon shade of lipstick, and the creamy pink eyeshadow, I did look really sexy.
“Let’s go upstairs pet. Tiffany and I need to give you some girl lessons. You can serve us drinks and lunch while we are at it. You have a lot to learn honey. I’ve been thinking of having you work at my salon, in a couple of years as Martina Caprice. Once you’re out of beauty school, I think you’ll be ready,” my aunt, shockingly said.
As I minced about the living room that afternoon, I felt sort of giddy. I liked it when auntie and Tiffany bossed me around, telling me how to walk, sit, and gesture. I actually liked trying to control my voice and keep it at a soft, sweet timbre. I was really glad the girdle was so snug. I was getting another erection.
Chapter II: Beauty Academy Darling
At aged eighteen I graduated from the Cosmetology Academy as well as my secretarial classes. Auntie decided to have a party on the Sunday after both my graduations. She invited a few of my girlfriends from both the schools. She also invited a number of the ladies from her two hair salons. Both employees and clients were invited.
We lived in a large suburban home, that had been grandfathered into a private gated community. So, there was plenty of room. Two people I didn’t expect to see were Mariel and Alexis Collingswood. I just hadn’t seen either of them in some time. Mariel was the chief loan officer at the mortgage company where Auntie Phaedra had gotten the loan for her newest salon.
Alexis was her 20-year-old daughter, soon to be a junior in college. Alexis had been ahead of me in high school by a couple of years. She was very athletic and had played a few sports. Her best sport, that had helped get her a scholarship, was softball. She was a pitcher and quite good at it. She was known to be very powerful.
I had recalled her being tall. About and inch or so taller than me. I’d always recalled her being sort of muscular, plumpish and big-boned. Though I hated to stare at her, she didn’t give me that impression at the graduation party. Yes, she was still tall.
In fact, in the three-inch pumps she wore, she was likely over six-feet. I’d never saw her in heels, or in a dress. Today she wore both. The beige heels she wore matched her three-quarter sleeve, beige, beaded lace sheath dress. She was stunning.
Her hair was in a very dark-brown short-stacked bob with Cleopatra bangs. Her make-up was flawless and not a bit subtle at all. She was glam and striking, and she intended to be. Her bulk seemed to have vanished. Yes, she was still statuesque and trim, but quite svelte in a very lady-like way.
I felt out of my league. No, I wasn’t dressed as a girl. Not yet anyway. No, but of late, auntie really had me coming out as a sissy. Auntie Phaedra had recently had me in to her newest salon and one of the girls had put a shimmering Caramel Balayage into my dark blonde hair.
My hair was still in the longish, inverted bob, but a recent body wave had given me spirally curlicues. I was dressed in a rose-colored suit and shorts set, with a white, V-neck, silk Basque underneath. I wore pink, two-inch heeled pumps, with white, patterned, anklet hose.
As my Auntie Phaedra had threatened to, she now had me on a mild dosage of hormones. Underneath my Basque I wore an A-cup brassiere. Fortunately, I wasn’t taking blockers, as of yet. Though I no longer had spontaneous erections when getting my hair done, I still got turned on when I was with a female.
Last but not least I had on a touch of mascara and blush, along with waxy-white lip-gloss. My nails were filed in cute ovals and painted with clear polish that had been mixed with a small amount of coral pink lacquer.
I took another glance at Alexis Collingsworth. She smiled and waved. Then she walked towards me. I was so surprised when she reached out and gave me a hug. I hugged her back. Then she held me at arms-length.
“Marti. Congratulations. You look fabulous today. So, Tres Chic-Chic, darling. I love what you’re wearing. Where did you buy that lovely suit and shorts set? It looks like something you’d get at Victoria’s Secret,” Alexis said.
“You’d have to ask Auntie Phaedra. It’s a graduation gift. Alexis you look absolutely stunning. I mean truly beautiful. I’m just speechless looking at you,” I added.
“Marti, I’m so glad you noticed. Let me give you a kiss. There. So, you like the new me?” Alexis asked, twirling. The kiss had been nice. It was on the lips. I wished it had been longer. She reached out and had me pucker. She rubbed her index finger on my lips.
It wasn’t until later I realized that some of her heavily applied and still very moist, Desert Taupe lipstick had transferred to my lips. She had used her finger to apply it evenly. I now looked much more sissified than even auntie had intended.
“Marti why not come escort me, and we’ll get a drink. Then later I want you to speak with mother. But just not straight away. I want to get to know you better first. It’s been much too long since I’ve seen you Marti,” she smiled and winked, as she linked her arm into mine, and led me off.
We went into the kitchen and I let her mix me a rum and coke. It tasted very strong. I wasn’t used to drinking much at all. As she sipped her drink she became exceptionally flirty. She leaned in close to me. As she nudged and rubbed against me, she touched my waved, springy curls, and told me how beautiful my hair was. Her hand reached inside my jacket to feel my silky Basque.
At that point, I know she had to have felt one of my pert, budding breasts. I blushed, and she leaned over and kissed me again. This time her lips lingered on mine. The aroma of alcohol on her breathe, I found stimulating. My cock pushed against my snug panty brief.
“Marti darling, I love that scent you are wearing, whatever it is. Why don’t you give me a tour of the house, love? It’s bigger than I envisioned it. I recall your Auntie Phaedra having her first salon in the basement. Mother came here on a few occasions to have her hair done,” Alexis commented.
“She always wanted me to have my hair permed when she had me accompany her, but I refused. You seemed to have had a perm or body wave put in recently Marti. And your hair coloring is striking. Then again you are a beautician so, you would be up on the latest hairdos,” Alexis commented.
By now I wanted to be off somewhere alone with this splendid vision of sexuality. She wanted to see the salon, downstairs first, and I would have to go right by my aunt and her mother, who were now chatting. When we got close to them both they turned and smiled at us.
Her mother, Mariel, spoke initially. “Well, isn’t it nice to see these two together Phaedra? Marti, we’re all so proud of you and so happy for your Auntie Phaedra. I’m certain it was her due diligence that inspired you,” said Mariel as she also kissed me directly on my lips.
This kiss, like her daughter’s had some promise to it. She let her lips linger on mine even longer than Alexis’. Her tongue lightly brushed my mouth. As she chatted, her fingers touched the side of my face, and then gently rested on my hand.
“Miss Phaedra, Marti won’t share with me, the name of the sexy perfume he’s wearing. And did you do his hair so prettily?” Alexis asked.
“Well, I put some of my Maison Francis on him earlier. He loves when I wear it. As for his hair, I did the long bob cut and the dark blond color. Colleen at the Pampered Princess did the Caramel Balayage. The body perm was put in by Brenda, who also works at the Princess,” smiled Auntie.
“Auntie. Alexis has asked me to give her a tour of the house. She wants to see the beauty parlor first,” I interjected. I was feeling more and more like a complete sissy as the day became longer. Here were three women gushing over the expensive French perfume my aunt had dabbed on me, as well as discussing my permanent wave and Balayage, Caramel tinting.
“Of course, darling. Now you children play nicely,” my aunt added.
I led Alexis down the stairs of the well-lit, fully finished basement. I showed her the new equipment auntie recently had installed. Then I showed her some of the beauty products we now carried.
Alexis put her handbag on a salon styling chair and grabbed a hold of me. She pushed me back against a wall. Then she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me passionately. She was very aggressive. She had me pinned and she was quite strong. The force of her tongue and lips pressing against mine took my breath away.
She released me slightly but wouldn’t let me go. “Don’t try to get away from me sissy. I won’t have any of that. You know, you were always very cute. Nice and slender with thick lovely hair. But now, you are absolutely darling. I had no clue your aunt had turned you into a sissy until mother informed me,” Alexis smiled.
She embraced me again before I could speak a word. This time, as she kissed me she maneuvered me over to a large, very comfy couch that was now in the area that had once served as the salon’s waiting room. She pushed me down upon it. I was only mildly trying to resist. She broke away from a deep French kiss, still smiling.
“So, yes, you look so very delightful as a sissy. Does Auntie Phaedra ever have you go full femme? Tell me. She has to, correct? Of course, she does. What does she call you, Martine? Don’t worry. I adore sissy boys, or I wouldn’t be making this advance towards you,” Alexis said.
“Never mind sissy. I have the upper hand right now. You can tell me all your girly secrets later,” she said as she pulled my shorts down to reveal my black, satin, scalloped panty brief.
“Well you have truly fab taste in underwear. Let’s get this off and see what kind of cock you have. Oh yes, that’s a nice size and from the looks of it you like what I’m doing,” Alexis added as she pulled off my high-heels and slid down my shorts and panty brief.
She kicked of her heels and turned around, ordering me to unbutton her lace, sheath-dress. As I helped her off with her dress, I looked out into the main salon area and up the stairs.
“Alexis, someone might come down here looking for us,” I gasped, prissily.
“Stop that right now. I planned this carefully. I pulled the locking latch closed as we came down the stairs. Nobody, and I mean nobody, will come down here. I plan on screwing you and that is that, Marti. That’s name isn’t quite femme enough. What is your girl name when you are fully dolled up as a female?” Alexis asked.
“Martina. Auntie Phaedra calls me Martina,” I whispered.
“Just Martina? No middle name? Don’t keep any secrets from me girl. I’ll spank that round little ass of yours,” she teased.
“Martina Caprice,” I blushed.
“Such a pretty name for a very pretty girl. European with just a touch of French. Perfect if she puts you in a pretty little maid’s outfit. I’ll bet you are a hot little number wearing one of those sexy maid’s uniforms? We’ll have to see one day,” she added taking me into her arms again and coaxing me to my back.
We kissed passionately. I answered her ardent craving with a hunger of my own. I had “made out” and felt a few girls’ breasts and privates. I had been masturbated. But I never had real sex. I was a virgin in that respect. Alexis acted quite worldly and experienced.
She took her bra off and had me feel her ample breasts. When she put her hands underneath my Basque, she felt my brassiere and my smaller tits. She groaned sexily.
“Wow, Martina Caprice is a sissy with boobs. I think I’m really in love,” she said, in full acceptance of me girly body.
She finally mounted me. Sliding my leaky, wet penis head, into her moist, juicy puss. As she slid down on top of me, it was like a dream come true! Her puss enveloped me. Here I was, with this vital sexy female on top of me, and she was screwing me. The needy, little sissy-girl inside of me, suddenly felt so fulfilled.
Though she had a very sexy shape to her body, Alexis was still bigger, stronger and weighed slightly more than me. She felt so powerful and aggressive on top of me as she slid her pussy up and down on my cock. I pushed back greedily, but I still felt like the “little, limpid sissy-girl in love.”
As Alexis picked up her pace, she used one of her hands and fingered her clitoris. She was a very skilled lover. Silly me, but I wondered if I was her very first sissy lover? She didn’t give me much time to think about that. As she thrust her puss back and forth upon my penis, I lifted my pelvis up to meet her.
She did something with her pussy that seemed to “snap” shut, around my cock. It was frightfully aggressive and womanly. She was infinitely more domineering and resolute than I ever dreamed of being. It was as if my penis were imprisoned in her vagina.
Her breathing now came in guttural, throaty, gasps. She was getting where she wanted to go, as was I. This was the most phenomenal and exciting occurrence in any sort of relationship I had ever had. As Alexis shuddered and gasped and her puss clamped around my swollen cock, I began to whimper.
As I spurted my seed into her pussy, I could hear her moan ever so seductively. I spurted more and more, and tears came into my eyes. Her moaning was as husky and cavernous, as mine was introspective, sweet and girlish. I was whimpering and sobbing. She was arching her back and calling out “yes” in an almost triumphant, celebratory manner.
In the aftermath, as we cuddled I suckled on one of her still swollen nipples. As she played with my spirally, sprayed locks, she told me how, “Perfectly lovely,” I’d become.
“I always saw you as a bit of a sissy. Even when mother told me your aunt was sissifying you, I never imagined you would ever turn out this stunningly feminine, Martina. I’d absolutely love to see you tricked out fully as Martina Caprice one day. I’d drag you around to the most exclusive clubs in town to show you off,” she promised.
“I always recalled you a pretty girl. But I was just awestricken when I saw you enter the room with your mother. She’s very pretty. But you’re absolutely ravishing, Alexis. You’ve become one of the most gorgeous young women I know,” I said sweetly.
“That’s so very enjoyable to hear you say that, Martina. It wasn’t easy. Likely it was easier for you to become a pretty girl than me. Playing sports, I was always eating super high protein foods and weight training to build muscle. I finally tired of softball in college. After the freshman season, I had enough academics scholarship money coming in, that I gave up the athletic grant,” she said.
“Besides, my mother is loaded. She’s now Regional V.P. for Burlington Mortgage. She could make up any difference. I took up different sports at the non-compete level and began to slim down. I began swimming, playing tennis, riding horses and doing aerobics. I even took up the Martial arts,” she added.
“The most difficult part was learning all the things girls learn to do when they don’t submerge themselves in athletics. Like doing my makeup properly, how to dress flirty and sexy, as well as what type of haircut to get and how to walk in high heels,” she laughed.
“Mother was plenty of help. I also switched-over to a real girly sorority and my sisters there were just so precious. It really meant so much to me, for you to be impressed with how I looked and carried myself. Well, we had better get dressed and put our hair and faces back together, Martina Caprice,” she added.
Once we both had our outfits back on, I used a lint-brush to make sure our clothing was dust free and smooth. Then our hair and makeup had to be fixed up. Auntie Phaedra had recently had brand new styling and makeup chairs installed at her new salon and the two left over had been mounted in the basement beauty parlor.
The chairs could be adjusted for both height and angle. For doing Alexis’s makeup I raised the chair slightly tilted it back and covered her with a makeup cape. Then I carefully applied her cosmetics to really accentuate her big brown eyes and her gorgeously, plump lips.
Afterwards I raised the chair to a right angle and dampened her hair slightly with water and sculpting gel. Then I used a brush and hair spray to set her gorgeous bob, just right.
“Very nice honey. Okay. My turn to do your hair and makeup. Don’t argue with me Martina Caprice. I want your hair to be stylish and adorned, along with full makeup, when we go back upstairs. You are among loyal friends and family. Plus, you are with me. No one will tease you or mock you. Now please be seated Martina. I’m going to make you very, very pretty,” ordered Alexis.
Leaning back, wearing a makeup cape, I watched as Alexis took a bottle of foundation and began to sponge it carefully onto my face. Once the foundation was dry, she patted it lightly with press matte powder. She applied my mascara much heavier than I had earlier in the day. Then she accentuated my eyes even more so, by using a metallic-gold crème eye shadow.
The rose-gold blusher blended perfectly with a heavy wet coat of Burnt Sienna lipstick. She put styling gel on the tips of her fingers and fluffed my curlicued tresses. Then she used a pick-comb and brush to add volume. She added a silver butterfly barrette pinned to the side of my hair above my right ear, as an adornment.
Nothing says “girly-girl” like a barrette or bow affixed in your hair. I looked at myself and then nervously walked up the stairs with Alexis. As we strolled back into the main living room where quite a few party attendees were, Alexis took my left arm into her right arm and pulled me possessively to her.
I really did feel so safe and sheltered being embraced and guided along by this strong, poised woman. I knew if I ever married anyone it would have to be a confident and assertive lady such as Alexis. Cuddled next to her as she linked our arms, really brought out the demure young lady within me.
I loved the fact, that, as we mingled with the party guests, people complimented me on my makeup. Most hugged me and congratulated me on graduating. Many commented that Alexis and I looked so good together. Finally, we inevitably met up with Aunt Phaedra and Alexis’s mother, Mariel Collingswood.
Both Auntie and Mariel had raised eyebrows when they noted my face was fully prettified with cosmetics. “Goodness Mariel, it looks like our girls have been playing ‘Beauty Parlor’ while they toured the downstairs salon. Martina Caprice, I am so happy you decided to spend the remainder of the party in full girly makeup. It will go a long way towards your coming out at the new salon,” smiled my Aunt Phaedra.
“So, Marti has been dressing more girlishly lately, Phaedra? And she is called Martina Caprice when she’s fully femme? So how frequently does she dress in ladies’ things?” Mariel asked.
“I insist when she is home doing the housework and cooking, she be in skirt and blouse, or a dress, with heels, apron and full makeup. Her hair can be in curlers as long as she isn’t going outside the house for too very long. I expect the curlers to be gone and her hair prettily coiffed when I arrive home,” stated my aunt.
“Excellent. Well, if, indeed, Martina cooks and cleans, plus does hair and nails, she will surely make some lucky woman very happy. You are very inspiring Phaedra. You have renewed my assurance in the superiority of our female sex. It’s wonderful to see that someone knows how to quell the urges of a young teen-aged boy,” winked Mariel as she looked over at her daughter Alexis.
“Yes. As to making a woman very happy, I fully intend to throw my chapeau into the ring as to that competition,” added Alexis as she squeezed my hand.
“Come along Martina. Let’s sit on the front porch and catch-up. I plan on us seeing a lot of each over this summer and beyond,” Alexis ordered as she escorted me out the front door.
We sat on a swing on the left side of the porch. Alexis had her arm around me and frequently kissed my cheek and lips as we chatted. At one point she whispered into my ear, huskily, as her hot breath warmed my neck.
“I want the two of us to get together soon for a Saturday evening date or a weekend getaway. I don’t mind whether Sissy Marti shows up, or you prefer to be with me as Martina Caprice. I plan on taking one of you to bed very soon. This time you’ll be getting expert tutoring in eating my pussy,” Alexis gushed.
I had never met a young female that was as forward as Alexis. And when she was so explicit about sexual matters, I got chills throughout my body and my penis became erect. I had never been so sexually and emotionally attracted to anyone in my life.
Chapter III: Martina Caprice Rising
I realized that given the choice Alexis preferred me as Martina. She seemed to adore sissies. However, I also believed her to be a Lesbian who would be the aggressor with a subservient female. I looked forward to the upcoming summer.
Summers in Lower Fairfield County, Connecticut could be so very pretty. With the promise of a relationship with Alexis, my dream woman, I was so excited. I knew I’d be busy also. My aunt had me on track for a forty-hour week, split up between the salon, housekeeping and doing her books.
I’d work at the salon as a stylist, Tuesday thru Friday from nine in the morning to two in the afternoon. That would leave me about fifteen hours for cooking, cleaning and laundry. Plus, about five hours for bookkeeping. As my room and board was free, I wouldn’t be paid for the housework.
Within the first few days of Summer, I saw three potential conflicts or “tugs of war,” approaching on the horizon. The first and most obvious was the struggle between the emerging Martina Caprice and the diminishing Marti.
I began the first week of work at the salon in “Sissy” mode. I would wear a suit/skirt or suit/shorts outfit, along with a short-sleeved blouse or camisole. On “Casual Friday” I came in wearing a romper. I never let my heels get over two inches and my only concession to makeup was a touch of blush, light mascara and a waxy-white gloss on my lips.
My long-bob hair, I always wore down, just touching my shoulders. My nails were done in clear lacquer. Because my aunt had given me my own bottle of “Maison Francis” I use a dab behind each ear. I’d just gotten my ears pierced at a jewelry shop for graduation. I had a pearl stud in each.
Go figure, but on my second day at work, during a quick tea break, two of my co-workers came over to my styling station and began to tease me about giving me a “quickie” makeover. I’d just highlighted a customer’s hair. She sat in the salon chair, her hair color taking with foil in her hair, smiling.
“I love the idea Marti. Sit here and let the girls do your hair and makeup,” said my client. She continued encouraging my two co-workers. Between the three of them, I was seated, wearing a salon cape. Angelica began putting my hair in a sexy, curly, updo. Marie stood in front of me, applying a beige, luminous, liquid foundation.
As Angelica sprayed my upswept tresses, I noted she’d wrapped a pink ribbon at the base, where the updo began to coil. She tied it off in a bow. Marie continued her very methodical painting of my face. She was taking her time and really concentrating. When she finished with my lipstick she stepped back and pointed to the mirror, exclaiming, “Voila!”
I was incredulous at how gaudy my makeup had been done. My very thinned eyebrows had been sharply defined with a high arc. My lips were a rich, glowing crimson. The hot pink blush demarcated my high cheekbones. The crème-white eye-shadow set off my luxuriant, dusky mascara.
With my pink ribbon and bow, setting off my beautifully curlicued and dramatically twirled upsweep, I was the definitive “Beauty Salon Style Queen.” It was only 10 A.M. and I would be beautified like this for four more hours.
Presently my Auntie Phaedra was quite busy in her office, wrapping up a contract with a very exclusive ladies’ group for a private spa day. The salon was closed every Sunday and Monday. These ladies wanted to rent the salon the second Monday of each month. Services would include a catered buffet, along with a full day of spa and beauty treatments.
They would be paying Auntie a lump sump in a cashier’s check for beauty services, along with a 20% cash gratuity for the employees. Auntie would also be making 10% on top of the caterer’s fee. They’d also be serving wine. This group of ladies must have been very well-to-do?
With the large gratuity being offered, it was very easy for Aunt Phaedra to find beauty professionals from her staff, to work that day. Just as I was completing my first customer’s cut, highlighting and stylization, Aunt Phaedra walked out of her office with two ladies from the club. After she saw them off she stopped at my station and looked me over from head to toe.
“So, you decided to make yourself very pretty after I left the house, for the salon?” Aunt Phaedra asked.
“No Auntie. Angelica did my hair and Marie made-over my face. I suppose you find it appealing?” I asked.
“Of course, I do pumpkin. You look absolutely gorgeous. Here. Pose beside the styling station. I want to get a picture for Mariel and Alexis. There! Now place your hand on your hip, baby. So nice!” Aunt Phaedra exclaimed.
“You should be thru your last appointment by 1:30 PM. Drop by my office and I want to show you how to enter the payment, in the books, for the private spa day, which the Cassandra ladies will be having here,” my aunt smiled.
The rest of the day went on uneventfully. That is, if I excluded all the effusive compliments I received for the way I looked. Every customer that passed me and most of the rest of my co-workers just loved my makeover.
“Marti, you should come here prettified like that every day. You look perfectly darling!” Gretchen, one of my aunt’s assistant managers lavished.
Just a bit past 1:30 I dropped by my aunt’s office. She explained to me how to both bill and enter the private spa day in the salon’s ledger.
“Now, here’s the agreed upon final spa total. Each club member and their accompanying Lady’s Companion is billed a flat rate for a full spa day. All the standard services are included from massage to makeover. I pay the caterer and I bill 10% above that. That is also billed per member and their Lady’s Companion,” auntie explained.
“So, you enter the payment to Leeman’s catering here. Then the two payments from the Cassandra Society are entered here. One for food and beverage. The other for beauty services. They pay the cash gratuity for the girls, off the books. I hand them the bill as a receipt. They pay the same day of the appointments,” auntie added.
“Okay, I’ve got that. What kind of group is the Cassandra Society? Where did you get linked up with them? And what on earth is a Lady’s Companion?” I asked.
“My. Isn’t my little niece inquisitive today? The Cassandra Society is a group of very progressive feminist businesswomen. I was introduced to them by Mariel Collingswood. In fact, I have recently applied for membership,” auntie explained.
“A Lady’s Companion is generally an employee, such as an Administrative Assistant, a Social Secretary, personal trainer, or a Boudoir Maid, that the Mistress is rewarding with a special beauty day, for services rendered,” my aunt added.
“You’ll be happy to know that Mariel and Alexis have invited you and me, to a very private dinner party for just the four of us, at their home Saturday evening. Drinks at 630 PM. I just received a text from Alexis in response to the pictures I sent her of your makeover,” smiled auntie.
“She gushed over how lovely you looked. She also added that she hoped to see Martina Caprice looking as beautiful Saturday. I suggest you follow her wishes Martina,” my aunt said.
“Yes, I will Aunt Phaedra. I love pleasing Alexis. I’ll see you again when you get off from work Aunt Phaedra. I’ll do my best to be looking pretty as a picture,” I smiled giddily. I was already excited about dinner with Alexis.
________________________________________________________________
Saturday at dinner and shortly after dinner, I witnessed what I believed to be two more, aforementioned, conflicts or “Tugs of War” looming over my relationships. The first was a perceived competition for my affections between Mariel Collingswood and her daughter Alexis. This really did surprise me. The other, though not actually surprising, was between my Aunt Phaedra and Alexis.
If Alexis Collingswood had a “thing’ for sissy boys, she had apparently been bequeathed it from her mother, Mariel. From the time we arrived at the dinner party until we departed, Mariel Collingswood made over me as if I was a movie star. This was partly from the way Aunt Phaedra had me attired.
Auntie arrived home early from work as planned. I was just getting out of the tub. After I moisturized and dusted on powder, she took me to a lacing bar in the “exercise room” adjacent to the salon and whittled my 26-inch waist down to 22, with a severe corseting. I was near fainting and had to breath more shallowly.
She rolled my hair up on medium sized rollers with setting lotion and had me slither into a tight panty-girdle with attached garter straps. To these she attached, black, seamed hose. From the waist severing corset, my boobs had plumped up a touch. She now fitted me with an uplift brassiere. She wasn’t done just yet, with her modern-day sissy torture devices!
I literally gasped when I saw her set down the four-inch, stiletto pumps she expected me to walk in! I had not worn anything over three-inches within the last year.
“You’ve walked in four-inch heels in the past Martina, so stop being such a fussy little bitch. If you embarrass me this evening, you will spend tomorrow afternoon, fastened to that lacing bar, being paddled. Now step into the velvet dress you see hanging in the doorway. Now!” Aunt Phaedra exclaimed.
The gown she pointed to, was a black velvet, ankle length, off the shoulder, hobble dress! It was very low cut. It had a really overelaborate pleated draping at the bust line. With the four-inch heels and the hobbling effect of the dress it would be impossible to walk properly at all.
I would be limited to a dainty, mincing, wiggle. I wanted to scream, but I knew better. I had been subjected to an on again, off again, half day, paddling session from my aunt in the past. It wasn’t any fun and it was callously chastening. I’d much rather suffer thru an evening of restrictive movement, than that.
Besides. How much walking would I be doing at a dinner party? After auntie did my makeup and hair, she had me practice walking daintily about our living room. As if there was another way to walk, wearing a hobble dress and a pair of four-inch spikes? At this time auntie was performing her toilette and readying herself for the dinner party.
At one point I stopped in front of a full-length mirror hanging on a bedroom door. I was absolutely mesmerized. I had to admit that Auntie Phaedra’s beauty skills and her taste for putting me in bizarre fashions, had made me a spectacularly attractive, drop-dead gorgeous, sex-pot.
Besides the elegant, unconventional clothing, she’d created an absolute masterpiece with my tresses and face. She’d taken my damp, dark blonde tresses and formed an elegant, evening hairdo. She had brushed my entire long-bob, over to the right side of my face. She had pinned a large brooch to the left side of my locks. She’d tied the ends of my long bob into an intricate braid.
My cosmetic application was to die for! She had outdone the girls at the salon from earlier in the week. My entire face screamed, “I am glam, I am hot, I am mysterious!”
That Friday, Auntie had replaced my pearl studs, with sexy gypsy hoops. I loved the way they tickled my neck and reminded me I was indeed becoming a girl. She’d also had my ears pierced for two more sets of earrings.
When we walked into the very elegant, Collingswood estate home, my lovely Alexis broke into the most wonderful smile. She walked towards me holding her arms out with her mouth wide open. “Oh my. Who on earth is this vision of loveliness? Oh, my precious angel, Martina Caprice. Baby, you are really something wonderful tonight!” Alexis exclaimed.
That might have been just about the last time that Alexis’s mother, Mariel, let Alexis get a word in edgewise, in reference to me, for much of the evening. Initially, Mariel even wanted me to serve drinks and later the meal.
“Mother, please look at how she is dressed? She can barely walk beyond a wriggle. She can’t take any steps over even six-inches. I’ll be glad to serve everyone mother,” Alexis said, coming to my rescue.
“I can see how she is dressed Alexis. In fact, I can’t take my eyes off of her because she is so ravishingly sexy. I can’t help myself, but I would love to see her wiggle that hot, tight, plump ass of hers. Whether she is bringing me a drink or a plate of food, I’d love to see that enviable butt, shimmy,” laughed Mariel as Alexis rolled her eyes.
It didn’t end there. Dinner was very nice. Light banter and a lot of smiles and air kisses between Alexis and me. But after dinner, Mariel continued to flirt voraciously with me. It could have been the alcohol, but I sensed she was intentionally putting the make on me to just show her daughter that she could.
As guests, both my aunt and I indulged her. As I said, Mariel also had a penchant for sissies. She practically compared me to every sissy-girl she’d ever had an affair with, including her current secretary at work, Gina.
“Honestly Martina, they all have been real beauties, but seriously honey, none of them hold a candle to you. You are an absolutely enchanting, sissy princess,” she smiled, until finally, Alexis cut in.
“Mother that is enough. You know very well I find Martina very attractive. And I don’t mind saying that I would love to stimulate a relationship with her. So, in effect, mother, you are flirting with someone that I consider as a future girlfriend. Please stop mother?” Alexis asked.
“I didn’t feel I was flirting with her Alexis. However, if you want me to stop complimenting her I will. I’m just telling her I find her very pretty. Would anyone care for dessert?” Mariel asked.
Over after dinner coffee, I was informed that Alexis and Mariel would be gone for an entire week beginning Sunday. For her upcoming Junior year, Alexis had changed her college major to finance. Mariel wanted to eventually bring her into the company where she was a VP. She wanted Alexis to accompany her on a business trip to get a feel for things.
For the summer, Alexis would intern for her mother, at Burlington Mortgage. I was kind of disappointed as I had hoped Alexis was going to ask me out for the following weekend. I guessed I’d have to wait. I think it was then that Auntie picked up on my disappointment. Auntie suggested we depart as the Collingsworth’s would be traveling Sunday.
Alexis and I hugged and kissed, and she promised she’d call me when she could during the business trip. When we arrived home, Auntie almost immediately asked me what was on my mind. When I told her the reason, I was down, she walked right over to me and threw her arms around me.
“Oh honey, I think Alexis is really attracted to you. I’ll bet she asks you out on a date right after she returns from the business trip. Come here to auntie baby. Let me look at you. Oh gracious, you look so lovely tonight. You are growing into a lovely, young female, Martina. Oh, I could just kiss you,” Auntie Phaedra said.
And she did kiss me. She gave me a very passionate kiss directly on my mouth. I enjoyed it, immensely. I returned her kiss ravenously. About two years of sexual tension melted away in an instant. I darted my tongue against her tongue. We broke off from the kiss and stared at each other.
“I felt like I should have done that a few times over these last couple of years, Martina, dearest. Oh, you are just such a special darling,” she added, huskily, squeezing me against her breasts and pushing her boobs against mine.
“Let Auntie Phaedra help you get undressed honey. Then stay prettied up and get into something sexy for bedtime with Auntie Phaedra. We can cuddle in my big bed and read some fashion and beauty mags. Have a real girly night together, okay?” Aunt Phaedra asked.
“Yes, Auntie Phaedra that would be nice. I really just need you to take off my corset. Then I’ll be right in your room,” I promised.
I found the hottest pair of baby doll jammies I could put my hands on. I unpinned my hair, unwound the braid, and shook my hair loose. I fluffed my tresses and perfumed them with scented hairspray. I even touched up my already overdone makeup. After stepping into a beautiful pair of high-heeled Marabou slippers I sashayed to my Auntie Phaedra’s boudoir.
I was keenly aware of what she needed, and I knew what it was that I wanted. I might play coy and coo and titter over some new lipsticks and cute rompers in a beauty or fashion mag or two. But, I wanted some closure over these years of unrequited desire.
Since I had reached puberty, just the sight of my beautiful Aunt Phaedra had been arousing to me. She had an absolutely smashing figure and she was always so well put-together. As a professional hairdresser and salon owner, it was her business to look her best.
She always had the latest “do,” perfect makeup, gorgeous nails and her attire was very fashionable and perfectly fitted. She was wonderfully sensuous in her voice and manner. She spoke with this sexy, throaty contralto, and her movements were both sophisticated and luxurious.
As I entered her boudoir on this fated evening, I kicked off my Marabous and demurely slid under the covers. I scooted over to her and immediately leaned beside her, brushing against her breast. She smiled and began musing about changing her hair color. She showed me different colors she was considering from a beauty mag.
Her hair was a glorious shade of dark auburn. It was so very nice and thick. I began to play with and finger her hair, seductively winking and smiling. I reveled in the luxuriousness of her tresses. “Oh, auntie dearest, don’t ever change this magnificent shade of hair. You and I both know that numerous women pay handsome sums of money for this such hair color and this texture, my sweet, sweet, Auntie Phaedra,” I pleaded, leaning further into her and kissing her lips softly and touching her face.
It was all the prompting she needed at that key moment in our auntie/niece relationship. She embraced me lovingly and planted the most sensual kiss upon my mouth. Then I embraced her, and our tongues became intertwined in the beautiful, womanly, French kiss of Lesbos.
I reached underneath her nightgown as one of her hands groped for my already swelling cock. The beauty and tenderness of this moment triggered feelings of provocation within me, which reached the depths of my basest emotions. I wanted nothing but to culminate a sexual liaison with this matured vivacious female.
Aunt or not, I wanted complete sensuous fulfillment with her. Just as I wanted to fulfill her neediness in the same manner. I became consumed with sexual hunger. As I touched her pudenda she moaned seductively. “Between my legs, my pet. Put your pretty face and your curly locks amidst my thighs. I want you to kiss my pussy, girl,” she gurgled.
“This will be good for you to learn to do, Martina. I’m certain your beautiful Alexis, will require you to be efficient in eating her puss. Now, that’s a good girl, my darling. Oh yes, that is very nice. Let me explain just a few nuances, to you. Oh yes, very, very nicely done, love,” she cooed.
It was so pleasant to hear and feel her respond positively to my novice efforts. “Auntie has neglected her sex life, thru working too much darling. It’s been some time since I had anyone do this for me. Ooh! Oh, so good my princess!” Aunt Phaedra exclaimed, between her moments of careful, expert instruction.
Even with my exceptionally limited experience, I could sense she was reaching some sort of apex. My impression was correct, as I felt her tense up and pant aloud. As her floodgates opened, her juices flowed. I have no idea exactly how she felt at that moment but her response to my ministrations was magical for me.
As her torso arched most fervidly, she let out a wild, visceral screech. Her well-toned, and smoothly waxed thighs clamped tightly about my blushed cheeks. Her beautifully manicured fingers intertwined within my stiffly sprayed, curlicued locks. I could feel her pussy expel its moist juices over my beautifully made up face. He screeches became louder and more intense.
And then, slowly her excitement stilled. Then the soft silence and whimpers of sexual bliss, as her climax subsided. She pulled me to her, for me to cuddle and kiss her in the aftermath of her primitive eruption. “Oh, thank you my sweet, sweet, angel. You did me so, very, very nicely. Yum. Now come to me my dearest, and let auntie take care of her sexy girl,” she said.
She held tightly to my penis, laughing to herself, gutturally. She rolled over, taking me with her, and depositing me on my back. Slowly and carefully she lowered herself down, cautiously imprisoning my hardened cock within her moist vagina.
It was divine. Unlike Alexis who stayed upright as she screwed me, Auntie Phaedra leaned over and pinned both my hands against the mattress beside my head. Her ample bosom nearly touched my pert tits. She began to pump her puss down and up, upon my stiff and swollen member. I wasn’t going to last very long, before I would climax.
The smell of her rich perfume, the sight of her lovely breasts and the feeling of her vagina, tightly surrounding my penis, were all erotically enticing. Plus, there was her show of strength and dominance over me. The pressure of her fingers forcefully pinning my hands to the bed, spoke to my girlish, subservient emotions.
I felt like this captive, “Damsel in Distress,” being violated punitively, by this strong, domineering mistress. I could do nothing other than lay there, helpless, as this magnificent lady had her way with me sexually. Just the imagery of my feminine vulnerability and fragility was enough to cause me to spurt and pump my sticky discharge into my demanding aunt’s vaginal walls.
There were the visions of her spanking and paddling me, while I was tied to the lacing bar. Then, the memories of her binding and gagging in a beauty salon chair, while she did my hair, came rushing back. Finally, the embarrassing reminisces of mincing around the parlor, serving tea and cookies to her lady friends. I could no longer hold back.
My strong orgasm was accompanied by this high-pitched, girlish shriek coming from deep within me. A gush of soppy, girly tears streamed from my mascara stained eyes, and down the sides of my sissified, cosmetic covered face.
I was a blubbering mess even as my orgasm subsided. For a brief moment my Aunt Phaedra was motherly, tut-tutting and empathetic. She softly kissed my face, my eyes, my lips, my forehead. She called me her “little princess” and licked away my sissy tears.
However, with one hand covering her vagina, she used the other hand and arm, to reposition me with my head further down the bed. Then she straddled me, with her pussy just above my face. I was still nominally confused from my shattering sexual release. I whimpered pitifully.
“Now my lovely angel, think of this somewhat, as a Mommy bird feeding a little baby bird. Spread those pretty red lips, and drink up all the salty, nasty, boy semen auntie is going to expel into your mouth. Very good. Now that’s a good girl. Swallow every last drop baby. Very nicely done!” Aunt Phaedra exclaimed, massaging my throat and larynx, forcing me to swallow.
At first, I thought my drinking of the sperm cocktail was complete. But, auntie lowered her pussy to the edges of my lips and said, “Suck, my child. Suck out the very last remnants of your seed. As I said, it is good until the very last drop. That’s it, suck Auntie Phaedra’s pussy and make it nicely clean and fresh,” she laughed.
Any last ounce or vestige of boyish dignity that might have remained within me certainly vanished at that moment. I proceeded to dutifully lap up the last teeny fragments of my gooey, sticky discharge. I would find out, later of course, that this was a common ritual, among the ladies of the Cassandra Sisterhood.
This group, of course, was the aforementioned “Cassandra Society,” which my aunt had said would be having a monthly spa and beauty day, at her newest salon. I knew little or nothing of this mystical society, other than that brief mention in passing, by my Aunt Phaedra.
Actually, I was quite fortunate. I my case I had been “privileged” to “enjoy” the swallowing of my very own discharged seed. I have found that this isn’t always the case with every dominated Cassandra sissy. There are those Cassandra “Lady’s Companions” whose sexual talents might be found to be unsatisfactory or even woefully inadequate.
In some of these such instances, the Cassandra Mistress is left with very little choice, other than to locate a virile male companion who is essentially equipped to alleviate her carnal cravings. It is very likely that the sissy pouf, now dressed as a French maid or cocktail waitress, would still be called to the boudoir.
However, while the man friend would then be facilitating the excited mistress, the surprised and humiliated sissy would stand silently, with her nose pressed childishly against the far corner of the room. After the sex act would be culminated, the sissy would then be made to orally clean the sperm of the man friend from the vagina of her mistress.
Knowledge of such practices as this would be revealed to me in the somewhat near future. Until then I would mull contentedly over the new state of affairs between Aunt Phaedra and me. I would also be wonderfully enthralled, fantasizing about my recently found love interest, Alexis Collingswood.
Chapter IV: Seasons of the Changeling
More commonly we dined with my aunt and Alexis’s mother at the Collingswood’s grand estate, or at our more modest but still opulent home. Even on our dates, we were limited in our romantic activities, to primarily mutual masturbation, while we groped one another in the back seat of Alexis’s Nissan Murano.
On one evening we attended an interesting venue on the outskirts of rural Greenwich, Connecticut. It was a private club Auntie Phaedra and Ms. Mariel belonged to. It was called the Athena Chalet. It was gorgeous. It had a downsized “country club” flavor with several lovely buildings along with opulent banquet rooms and furnishings.
From the main building where the dining and dancing took place, a quarry tiled hall led thru a courtyard to an Olympic sized, heated swimming pool. The pool was surrounded on three sides by majestic gardens. We were all four of us, dressed glamorously along with evening makeup and salon coiffed tresses.
The food and beverages were top shelf. The service was excellent. The female wait staff was demure and delightful. They even curtsied and referred to us all as “Madame.”
There were few males present. One was a bartender. He was very handsome, gracious, well-groomed and dapperly attired. He seemed to be popular with both the hostess and manageress. A very few young, handsome males accompanied elegant, matronly females to dinner.
There was an obvious twenty to twenty-five-year age difference between these young males and their glamourous dowager dates. These young men were impeccably dressed and carefully groomed, with longish, but very neatly barbered hair. They were sophisticatedly polite. They held the chairs out for their dates, took their dates stylish wraps, and arose from the table whenever their lady friends left the table or returned.
On one occasion a striking “dowager queen” entered the club with a fine-looking, youthful, Hispanic male on her arm. My aunt raised an eyebrow as did Mariel Collingswood. Auntie leaned over and whispered.
“I see that Cynthia Abercrombie is robbing the cradle again this month. That’s a new gigolo on her arm. He’s a real doll, though isn’t he?” Auntie Phaedra mused.
“That’s not just any gigolo, Phaedra. That’s her stable-boy, but I suspect he’s a real stud. Cindy has never fooled around. She likes her boy toys to be young, randy and virile. And why not, I say?” Mariel smiled, flirtatiously winking at me. The flirtations had yet to cease.
As dinner ended, Alexis leaned over to me and said, “I want us to take the first slow dance together when the music begins. The management, staff and clientele her are very liberal and open-minded. Two obvious females dancing cheek to cheek will hardly raise even one eyebrow.”
“Please dance with me and hold me close, Martina Caprice. I want this to be a special night for us. I have something exciting to tell you. Later we can try some fast dancing with each other,” Alexis added.
The all-female band went into slow dance mode on the third song. As other couples stood, I arose with Alexis. She took my hand and sashayed me out to the dance floor. She spun me towards her with one arm. Then she paraded me around the dance floor in a slow rhumba rhythm.
I’d never danced in high heels. But I had walked enough in them, that with an experienced lead dancer like Alexis, I felt comfortable enough doing it. Comfy enough, that I danced passably well. It was being so snugly held in her arms, cheek to cheek that was so special. When the dance ended she took me thru the anteroom, out beyond the pool and into the gardens.
I actually wondered if she was proposing? However, she wasn’t. She wanted to tell me about the following weekend. “My mother and your Aunt Phaedra will be vacationing at a cabin which mother owns in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. They are leaving the very next Friday morning,” Alexis smiled.
“They won’t return until the following Monday afternoon. Darling, we can be together as lovers for essentially, three entire evenings. Well sweet-cheeks, is it your place or mine?” Alexis asked.
“Oh, Alexis this is so very exciting! Oh goodness. You can take me to bed again and I can service you by eating your pussy darling. Oh, I’m so happy Alexis!” I exclaimed as I clapped my hands together gushingly.
The next week went by so slowly. Finally, Friday morning came. By the time I drove to the salon, Auntie had already been picked up by Mariel Collingsworth. They were off to Portsmouth. I’d asked Gretchen, the assistant manager, if I could keep my schedule clear for Friday afternoon.
“Of course, you can sweetie. Hot weekend planned with Miss Alexis Collingswood I will gather?” Gretchen smiled as my penis dripped pre-cum at the very mention of it.
When noon rolled around, I drove home where Alexis and I planned to meet. As she was the bosses’ daughter she had left work even earlier and was waiting at the front door. I minced happily up to her and we kissed hungrily before we even got inside the house.
My arms went around her, and I massaged her back near her brassiere strap. Her hands went to my butt cheeks and she squeezed my ass, to my girlish delight. I minced into the house ahead of her after unlocking the door.
“Would you like me to make you lunch or a drink darling,” I asked coquettishly, trying to play the subservient housewife role to a tee.
“Make us both a rum and coke, with two shots of rum each. Bring them up to your room. I’ll be up there getting undressed,” said Alexis commandingly. She still had her briefcase in her hand as she climbed the stairs. I mixed both drinks and joined my partially naked lover in my boudoir.
I took a sip from my strong drink and handed Alexis hers. She sat on the bed and I sat at my vanity. We each sipped slowly smiling at each other.
“Why don’t you undress and join me on the bed, Martina?” Alexis asked.
I quickly stripped to my bra and panties, leaving on the same items Alexis wore. I joined her on the bed, placing my drink on the opposite bedside table. I turned to her and we embraced. As we kissed she took the initiative and rolled me onto my back.
Alexis always kissed me forcefully. She knew her strength and aggressiveness fed into my docility and girlishness. I loved when she took the lead. Her strong kisses took my breath away and I could fairly swoon when she snaked her tongue hungrily into my mouth.
“You need to suck my vagina, Princess Caprice. Come along my sexy-haired girlfriend. By the way doll. I plan on taking advantage of having a hairdresser for a girlfriend, later today. After you finish sucking my twat, I want you to do something with this mop on top of my head,” Alexis teased.
She hardly hard any sort of “mop” on top of her head. She had a gorgeous well-groomed Dutch-boy bob with those peek-a-boo Cleo bangs. I kept it trimmed and styled for her whenever she dropped by the salon to see me. She probably was looking to generate some sexy role play where I’d be pampering her?
The “hair” I was now looking at was the gorgeously trimmed bush surrounding her nicely scented pussy. I wondered how expensive the perfume was she’d dabbed there this morning? It was sweet of her to perfume it in preparation of me sucking it.
I was glad I had given Auntie Phaedra oral sex recently. I tried some of the same techniques I had used with auntie, on Alexis, to great result. Alexis was soon squirming. I massaged her lower back and butt as I licked her cunt. I just loved touching this woman.
Now Alexis wasn’t just squirming, she was moaning ever so cravenly. I loved the sound of her sweet voice. Especially when she was in the throe of desire. My penis had gotten very hard and I couldn’t wait for her to finish so she could satisfy my sexual appetite.
Alexis soon made me very happy as she yelled demonstrably, and her climax began. It was as if her body shook with a carnal earthquake inside of her. “Yes, yes, keep going!” Alexis shouted loudly. I was glad auntie wasn’t home.
Alexis’s thighs locked around my head and I felt as if I was stuck in a vise. As her excitement receded her grip on me relaxed. As she just lay there peacefully I crawled up to her and kissed her beautiful brown eyes. She idly played with my cock and I hoped she would proceed further but she didn’t.
She turned to me and smiled, and then rolled me onto my right side. She then slowly slipped one of her fingers into my butt-hole. I squirmed, and she slapped my ass. “Hold still! It’s tight, isn’t it? I thought we’d eventually have to widen it. I was correct. You need to begin wearing a butt-plug for me, you know that, don’t you Martina?” Alexis asked.
“Please, Alexis. What are you talking about? A butt-plug? Why?” I asked skeptically.
She took her finger out of my ass, got up from the bed and walked around the bed to face me. “Did you just ask me why darling? Well, obviously because I say you need to wear a butt plug. That should be enough reason alone, I would think? The other reason would be, that by the time I decide to make a real woman out of you, the dildo I screw you with won’t feel so uncomfortable,” Alexis said as my mouth fell wide open.
“Don’t act so surprised my prissy, little sissy. Come now, Martina. You must realize that our relationship is very similar, if not exactly like a classic lesbian union? Even though I’m the characteristically appealing ‘Lipstick Lesbian’ I’m still the Butch in the relationship,” she added, posing in mock seduction with her hand behind her head.
“I am the Butch, you are the femme. I’m the top and you are the bottom. I’m the Domme and you are the sub. It’s very simple darling. Now, do we do this the easy way or the hard way? I’m not fooling around Martina. I am fitting you with a butt-plug right now, or there will be hell to pay, little girl,” she said with solemn inflexibility.
She wasn’t kidding. I’m not sure what she would do if I refused. I sighed, outwardly and rolled over onto my stomach. As I did so, I said, meekly, “Yes ma’am Mistress Alexis. Please be gentle when you insert the butt-plug?”
“Of course, I will, my pleasing pet. I wouldn’t ever hurt you, unless you forced me to educate you, by your resisting or questioning my authority over you. It’s best not to play games with me, Martina darling. You’ve acted wisely in this matter dear. I’m very proud of you, and pleased,” she added as she carefully lubricated my rectum.
As she applied slight pressure she explained the entire, “Butt-plug training process” to me. It was as if she was some sort of expert. Believe me, though, I listened attentively.
“You’ll wear this size for a week or more. You should only remove it to expel your bowels. Clean it off when you do, poop. After a time, we’ll increase the size of the plug until you are wearing the largest size. At that time, you’ll be ready to find out what its like to be screwed as if you were a real female,” she laughed.
As she increased the pressure of the well-oiled plug I flinched. She cautioned me on proper breathing and how to “welcome” the plug into my anus. When It was firmly and fully in place she pulled my panties up and had me sit on the bed.
“It will be a little tight and uncomfortable initially. It will actually do wonders for your posture and will improve your girlish carriage immensely. You’ll mince very nicely, and people will note an increased wiggle in your behind. Put on those heels and walk for me. Then we’ll go to the basement salon and you can get started on my hair,” Alexis stated firmly.
I stood up, put the heels on, and walked carefully around my boudoir. I went back and forth between the hall and the room. I purposely frowned noticeably and acted irritated. I mean it was hardly comfortable at all having this invasive wad in my asshole. Then I got even more out of line and that would prove to be my undoing.
“You mean to tell me I might have to wear this thing in my ass for a few weeks? Plus, I can only remove it to take a shit? Oh, gracious. Well if you say so, but I hardly think it to be practicable,” I very nearly spat. I would find that was all unneeded and foolhardy.
On the way to the basement salon, Alexis verbally corrected me. “Martina yes, you will have to wear that thing, as you call it, for a few weeks or more. And I had better, not ever find out that you removed it for any other reason than to move your bowels. Lastly, yes, I do say so. And practicable or not you will wear it and learn to enjoy it,” she hissed.
Believe me, she was just warming up. We both stood in the salon wearing nothing but high-heels, brassieres and panties. I was excited because I thought it would be a sexy, beauty salon love scene. Alexis began roaming about the salon seemingly distracted.
Then she turned, just around the corner, and noted the lacing bar which auntie insisted on using when she had me wear a corset. It was also where auntie would tether me to spank or paddle me. She looked at it with great interest. My perception was clouded because I again had a big boner sticking out of my shorts.
“What on earth is this? I’ve never seen anything like it?” Alexis asked, staring back at me. I told her it was a lacing bar and tried to get her to sit at the shampoo sink.
“A lacing bar? How intriguing. Martina explain to me exactly what it’s purpose is, please?” Alexis asked as I walked over closer to it.
I explained clearly and embarrassingly, that Auntie would place my wrists into the attached handcuffs, elevate the bar slightly and then snug me into a corset. Then like a fool I added that she had also disciplined me, while I was in the same helpless position.
“You don’t look tall enough to be attached to those two sets of handcuffs, dearest. Come over here and let me see. Raise your arms. A little higher please?” Alexis requested. Then. Click! She snapped closed one of the cuffs around my right wrist. Then she used the pulley system to raise me up slightly.
“Is that what she would do Martina? Then she would raise you up a bit? There. Like this? Excellent. How so very clever. You are probably feeling unbalanced so let’s get the other wrist snugged up,” she added, locking my left wrist into the second set of handcuffs.
“Please Alexis you are startling me. Let me down, please? Uncuff my hands Alexis, I’m begging you?” I pleaded to no avail.
“You should be very frightened Martina. After that little rant you delved into back in your boudoir. Clearly, you still think you may have a say in matters concerning our unique relationship. That idea, my dear sissy, has to be eradicated. Now, would you like the paddle or the hairbrush?” Alexis asked to my horror.
“For my tastes, Martina, the paddle, I would think. Yes, the paddle will be just fine for this lesson in manners. If you dream you can ever again speak to me like you just did in your boudoir, you are seriously mistaken, my little missy,” she added shaking her head.
“I have already explained to you the special intricacies of this bond we have. I’ll attempt to do it more simply before I commence with your behavior modification session. Oh, you’re crying? Well that’s good. Crying has a wonderful cleansing and healing quality to it,” she explained.
“Now, where was I? Oh yes. I am the Alpha, and you’re the beta. I’m the Master and you are the concubine. Now don’t fight the truth about this. Ultimately it will set you free. Accept the reality of what being a sissy is. You are a fem-boy and you will never be able to enjoy what a real boy takes for granted and so rightfully deserves,” she smiled as my sissy tears continued.
“Just embrace the natural order of things. Please darling. For the sake of everyone concerned. You should welcome your subservient role. Simply put, learn to live with the shame, servitude and emasculation that will ultimately lead to your complete, effeminate fulfillment. Rid yourself of all that silly denial inside of you Martina,” Alexis hissed.
“Corporal discipline is a wonderful purgative, my lovely Caprice. I just so love that name, you know? Caprice. Just the sound of it. It’s just so beautifully French. Enjoy what I am about to do to you and free yourself from your ridiculous, boyish dignity. Holding onto it, is just such a terrible waste of the feminine life that awaits you,” she whispered as she swung the paddle with both hands.
I was certain my painfilled screams could be heard throughout the house, had anyone else been present. It didn’t affect Alexis’s enthusiasm even a little bit. She was correct. Crying, especially accompanied by hysterical squealing had an amazing effect of emotional release. I estimate she had blistered my ass with about five trembling strokes when she paused.
“I have a hard-fast rule about paddling, Martina. Until both of a supplicant’s butt cheeks turn a bright shade of pink, the session isn’t near complete. However, from the way you are shaking and blubbering, you are very close to surrendering to that beautiful, feminine flower that resides within you,” she added sweetly.
Alexis didn’t continue my chastisement too much longer. I only recall a few more strokes before she stopped and again spoke.
“There. Now just blubber out all that remaining boyish nastiness. It’s a good thing we’ve nipped that in the bud. Now, I’ll just get some cold cream to rub into that warm, fat ass of yours. By the by darling. Where did your aunt usually place the key to those handcuffs? Alexis asked.
“In the top, left hand drawer of the pink, styling vanity. She used it the first evening we had dinner with you mother and you. She laced me into a corset for that outing,” I simpered.
“Yes. And your figure was so curvy and delightful that night, darling. I noticed and so did mother. Yes, here it is. I’ll let you out of those handcuffs and you can lay face down on that couch where we first had sex. There. Now rest and let me massage those wrists and cool off that pretty butt,” Alexis chirped.
“Mummy Alexis doesn’t like to paddle her little girl but her little girl must learn to be polite and to behave properly, you know? Alexis said cheerily.
The cooling effect of the cold cream felt wonderful, once I got over the sting of Alexis’ fingers touching me. I sighed loudly. I’ll admit at that moment I felt very feminine, completely helpless and totally under Alexis’ control. I felt good enough to roll over when she stopped massaging in the cream and exposed to her my very erect penis.
“Martina, you should know better than to think I will be touching that awful boy thing today or even tomorrow. Once you can think of it as your clit, it will be a different story. But, you can relieve yourself. Do you feel good enough to stand? Very well, then. Get over here by this full-length mirror,” she ordered.
“Leave your panties down around your knees. Now stand there in your pretty bra and your nice heels. You can use this cold cream to pull yourself off. Look at yourself. Soak up into your lovely girlishness. Think of your little thingy as your pretty clitoris. Now pull yourself off and repeat after me,” she began.
“My name is Martina Caprice. I am a sissy, girly, femme. I like to masturbate and excite my clit. I belong to Mistress Alexis and I am her sissy play-thing. I can only climax when she permits me. I want to be her girly-girl for the rest of my sissy life,” she recited.
“Now get started and stare at yourself and believe to the depths of your inner essence that what you are saying is true,” she ordered.
I did as she instructed. She had to correct me a few times in reciting my mantra. I have a slightly different intonation today. It was very arousing. Seeing myself in my glowing feminized state was stimulating. I didn’t last long at all. And I certainly didn’t ooze semen as I do today.
The semen gushed and spurted, like an exploding geyser that afternoon. The hormones I take today have reduced my sperm output. But the bright side is, that my tits are much bigger and prettier. Alexis shoved me closer to the mirror. She wanted all of my spunk to splatter on the glass. When it was over Alexis pushed me to my knees.
“Now, you sissified femme. Crawl over to that mirror and lick off every last drop of your discharge. And if even one speck finds its way off that mirror and drips to the floor I’ll have you licking my ass clean the next time I take a crap. Now get going! Polish that glass and fix that awful mess you made with your clit.”
Once I’d licked off all of my salty mess, Alexis inspected it thoroughly. She let me know I wouldn’t be licking her freshly messed ass clean, anytime soon. Then she casually walked over to the shampoo sink, put on a protective salon cape and sat down.
“Get your little sissy ass over here and give me a shampoo, my prissy salon-bitch. I want you to do my hair for dinner tonight. You’re my salon-bitch, my boudoir bitch, my bathroom bitch and my kitchen-bitch for the weekend girl, so get used to it,” she smiled.
“Yes, Mistress Alexis. As you wish, Madame,” I added sweetly as I swished and daintily minced over to the shampoo area.
Chapter V: Just a Little Change of Plans
The initial couple of weeks away at college, she called just about every other day. She had already told me she would do the calling and initiate any texting. I was to keep my mind on my work at the salon and my housekeeping/bookkeeping for Aunt Phaedra.
Alexis explained in no uncertain terms that her new major at the university was going to be her main focus. As I had been so painfully taught, I always obeyed Alexis. Then the calls and texts came less frequently. When she did call she seemed distant and distracted.
Was she seeing someone else? Was I getting dumped? I’d become so subservient and girlishly insecure I was hesitant to say anything. I confided in my aunt and she told me I was being silly.
“Alexis is studying to be a person of high stature in finance, Martina. You’re going to have to become used to taking a back seat to her and her career darling. You may as well adjust right now to be a subservient little bride and homemaker if you ever except to be her wife or Lady’s Companion,” Aunt Phaedra explained.
There was that term again. “Lady’s Companion.” Prior to the holiday’s Alexis still had not returned home for even one visit. When I did ask her about visiting, she was silent and then curtly explained how busy she was. I wanted to do something, but what?
Then I got the idea to talk to Mariel, Alexis’ mother. She’d always liked me. She always flirted with me, anyway. Maybe I could really doll up and use my feminine wiles to extract some info? Who knows?
I drove over on a Saturday, in the first week of November, when I expected her to be home. I would use the excuse that I was in the neighborhood and just thought I’d drop in. I had barely turned into their long driveway when I saw them. “Them” being Alexis and some pert, preppy, “Barbie Doll” bitch.
They were at the far end of the drive, standing next to Alexis’ SUV, kissing in a lover’s embrace. My stomach felt like it was in knots. I stared until they broke off their hug and kiss. They walked into the house. I backed my car out, turned around and drove to nowhere in particular. My eyes were filled with tears.
I had to pull over to the side of the road until I could stop crying. I couldn’t think of anything to do except tell my Aunt Phaedra when she arrived home from the salon. She did her best to try and help.
“Martina, please sit down. Let me get us both a glass of wine and I’ll add in a Valium for you, child. There. Now listen to Auntie Phaedra. There has always been a chance that Alexis would gravitate back to her practice of Lesbianism. She’s had female love interests since she was sixteen and in high school,” my aunt carefully explained.
“It was only recently, since she dropped her scholarship and got away from the female athletes’ dorm, that she evidenced or expressed an interest in sissies. Coupled with her weight loss, her trimming down, her careful attention to her hair, makeup and fashion; she has made quite a huge turnaround all at once,” my aunt explained further.
“Her mother, Mariel, pointed her in your direction when Alexis felt she could become emotionally and romantically involved with an effeminate boy. However, we can’t jump to conclusions, about this recent tryst with the mystery blond. Why don’t you allow me to contact Mariel, tomorrow? I’ll have her call you during the week for a meetup,” my aunt proposed.
“Now why don’t we enjoy dinner together?” Aunt Phaedra asked.
The wine and the Valium helped. So, did a second wine and another Val. I slept like a baby, Saturday night. Just as I walked out of the salon Monday afternoon, towards my Toyota Four Runner Hybrid, I received a call from Mariel.
“Martina darling. I am so heartbroken you had to see what you did, this past Saturday. As, I am certain you must be heartbroken, also. I have cleared my schedule for Friday afternoon. Could you possibly fit me in to your schedule at the salon, from 1 PM to 230?” Mariel asked.
“Excellent. We can chit chat and you can give me a wash, trim, hot roller set, style and do my makeup. The we can get over to my house for a light lunch and a more serious discussion. I feel I can give you some clarity to help you see what you want to do going forward. Wonderful darling! I’ll see you at one, Friday afternoon. Ciao darling!” Mariel said as we closed our conversation.
Mariel looked somewhat frazzled after a week of work and I really enjoyed giving her a relaxing shampoo and hot oil condition. I wiped her makeup off with cold cream to give me a “blank slate” to work with. Then I lightly trimmed and shaped her medium length pageboy.
She chose small hot rollers for her set. She wore her hair in a very preppy, honey blonde, mid-length, pageboy. She spoke candidly with me concerning Alexis. “Your aunt was correct. Alexis has had female love interests since the age sixteen. It was only recently in college that she had her metamorphosis and decided to change her tastes to sissy boys,” Mariel stated.
“When she returned to college in late August she seemed thoroughly enchanted with you. I might have been inadvertently responsible for her recent change of heart. However, dear, it also may have been inevitable. You’re an angel Martina. The neck and shoulder massage you gave me while the conditioner was taking was so relaxing,” Mariel added.
“I’m so glad you liked it. I’m going to lean the chair back to do your makeup Ms. Mariel. Just relax and we can continue this conversation during your comb out. I’m thankful you would come over to talk to me and then invite me to your home for lunch,” I smiled.
Mariel had such beautiful skin. Doing her makeup was like putting cosmetics on a twenty-year-old fashion model. I really wanted to make her feel pretty. I spent a long time painting her face and I was very excited when she was overjoyed when she looked in the mirror.
“Martina, you are an excellent cosmetologist. I’m going to have to make you my personal stylist. All the girls here are wonderful, but you are a cut above the pack, darling,” she gushed.
I took great pains during her comb-out and decided to accentuate the curls rather than smooth them. I wanted to give her a more youthful, girly look. She had the same pleased reaction to her new “do.”
“This is so wonderful. You’ve made me look fifteen-years younger. You’re a very magical young lady, Martina Caprice. Well let me take you to lunch. I had my housekeeper make up some shrimp salad before she left, for the weekend. She also sliced some tomatoes. We can toast some rye and make some delicious deli-style sandwiches,” Mariel said.
I arrived at Mariel’s home just as she did. We entered the house. I poured two glasses of chilled white wine, while she made the sandwiches, which she cut into fours.
As we sat down she said, “Now where did I leave off? Oh yes. How I might have accidentally gotten Alexis together with Melanie. That’s the blonde girl’s name. Melanie,” Mariel explained.
“Melanie’s mother is an investment client of mine. Her name is Georgia. She lives in Westchester County, New York. One day we were chatting, and I found out her daughter is a Freshman at the same University Alexis attends. She’s also a future finance major. I tell Georgia to have Melanie look up Alexis,” Mariel frowned.
“How was I to know Melanie is a lesbian and that they would fall for each other so quickly? I feel horrible, but I really think it was fate, Martina,” Mariel said sadly.
My eyes teared up and I began crying. Mariel stood, pulled me to my feet, and began to hold me close to her and petted me on the back of my hair. I felt so safe and secure in her arms. More secure than I’d felt recently. I hugged her tightly as I sobbed.
She then held me at an arms-length. She took a Kleenex and softly dabbed at my tears. Then she gave me a soft peck on my lips. Our eyes locked. Then our lips met. I was the first to dart my tongue into her mouth. Next, she rolled her tongue around mine.
Our kiss was fervent, long and ardent. I had just freshened my Coral Pink lipstick when I arrived at Mariel’s home. Mariel’s lipstick was virtually fresh from the recent salon application. To me there is still nothing so sexy, as the mingling of fresh lipsticks on the mouths of two ladies during a Sapphic kiss.
I didn’t want to stop, but I had to come up for air sometime. When we broke off the kiss, we looked at each other and nuzzled our breasts against one, another. We rubbed our smooth faces together and I gasped. We kissed again hungrily. Her hands went to the buttons of my silk blouse.
“Oh, this is so nice Ms. Mariel. This feels so right. Would it be rash of me to ask you to take me to bed? If nothing else, we have both been on our feet all day and I could massage your feet for you Ms. Mariel,” I said ever so sweetly.
“No dear. Of course not. You are not being rash at all. It has been a long day and I think the wine has given us both the need to lay down beside each other and cuddle. Oh darling. You also give foot rubs? I know you cook and clean for your Aunt Phaedra. Plus, you do hair, makeup and nails?” Mariel asked.
“Goodness. Wouldn’t you make just the loveliest Lady’s Companion for some very fortunate woman? Yes, love. Come to bed with me. I’ll show you where my boudoir is, my pet,” she laughed. She took me by the hand and literally pulled me towards the stairway.
My heels click-clacked as I tottered along behind her. My saucy ass jiggled. My pert tits bounced, happily. Before either of us fully undressed, we downed the last of our white wine. Mariel had brought the rest of the bottle to her boudoir. She freshened our glasses before she hopped into bed.
She reached into her nightstand next to her bed and pulled out a few things. Then I saw her reach for a lighter and a nicely rolled joint of what I expected to be marijuana. She lit the joint and took a long pull. When she’d filled her lungs, she handed it to me.
It had been a long while since I’d smoked any pot, so I decided to take a long draw myself. When I handed it back to her she quickly stubbed it out in an ashtray. Then she reached for a vibrator and some love-oil. I remembered I was still wearing a butt-plug, according to Alexis’s recent orders.
“I’ll have to remove my anal plug. Your daughter instructed me to begin wearing one, during the weekend you and auntie went to New Hampshire,” I said as I blew out whatever smoke I couldn’t inhale.
“Of course, my sweet. My, but that is simply lovely. Your anus has been trained for proper buggering. By all means, remove it, child. Then come back here to Mumsy Mariel,” she smiled, petting the side of my face.
“By the way darling. That was so wonderfully compliant of you to keep your plug in, even though Alexis probably dumped you,” Mariel said sweetly.
“She has dumped me, hasn’t she?” I asked.
“We’ll discuss that later child. Now, you need to remove your anal plug. Then return to Mumsy so we can make love, darling,” Mariel intoned.
When I returned we again embraced and took part in another long kiss. Her body wasn’t as taut as Alexis’. It was softer in places. Still, her breasts and buttocks were firm and tight from exercise. She pulled me to her and buried my head between her bosom. My mouth went to one of her firm nipples.
“You are such a beautiful boy. Such an adorable sissy-boy. You femme-up so very nicely. My gracious, you could be a model. Such perfect skin. I see you are very aroused. Have you ever been butt-fucked Caprice? I love calling you that, you know?” Mariel stated.
“Caprice, it’s almost musical. I wish your aunt had given you the perfectly kittenish, femme name of Caprice from the very beginning. I know Martina was the feminine of Martin and Marti. But Caprice is just so perfectly adorable for you, darling,” Mariel said huskily.
“If you like calling me that, please do. Make it your pet name for me, if you wish. I’d love for you to call me Caprice. It would make me feel so very special, Madame Mariel,” I whispered, seductively.
“Then Caprice is the new name, for my new pet. Now answer me. Has anyone made serious love to your ass, my Caprice?” Mariel asked.
“No, Madame. Would you care to? My ass is yours to screw,” I giggled coquettishly.
That was all it took. With my penis erecting quite nicely, she carefully lubed my rectum. She applied a copious amount of KY gel with two of her very slender fingers. My anal canal was now widened from the constant invasive stretching of the increasingly larger plugs I had worn. Her two well-manicured fingers were almost loose within there. Though I did wince slightly when those long, slender digits first pushed inside me.
When she revealed the dildo, she was going to use on me, I initially had second thoughts. It was very long. Though, not so big around and it curved slightly. It was reddish in color. She saw the frightened look in my eyes.
“Don’t let the length of this alarm you, my darling Caprice. This is double ended dear. One end will fit nicely in my pussy. The other end will be snugged inside your rectal passage. I prefer these over the strap-on type dildos. I find those to be clumsy at times. This really isn’t quite as wide as the averaged sized male cock.” she explained.
“A well-stretched sissy ass like yours should accommodate this easily. The real excitement for you begins when this makes regular contact with your prostate. I’ve known sissies to become wholly dependent upon a prostate screwing. A number of them are unable to achieve a normal climax without being butt-fucked,” she smiled.
She had me put a pillow or two under my torso as she positioned me kneeling dutifully on all fours. My ass was pushed up in the air and was very accessible to her. She must have slid her end of the dildo into her vagina. As, the very next thing I felt was the well-oiled dildo entering my heavily greased anus.
She instructed me on exhaling, as she pushed the dildo in. Then, inhaling as she slid it back. Every time I exhaled properly, my flexing asshole seemed to suck in and welcome the invading dildo further. And now, it continued to go much deeper inside of my anus. At long last, I knew from the highly erotic stimulation, that the dildo was contacting my prostate.
My tight tummy muscles felt as if they had mystically trembled, quaked and turned to jelly. My increasing girly emotions fluttered like the wings of a baby bird. Then a calm, serene, very pensive chill came over me. I just felt so girlishly gooey and gushy within me. My resistance to her attentions melted away. Even if her aggressive pumping of the dildo did cause me some discomfort.
At the start, she kept me interested with her lubricated fingers underneath me and sliding back and forth on my swollen cock. Then she ceased those stimulations. Now it was solely her progressively, rapid pumping of the faux sex-organ within my anal canal.
Her arms were locked around my slender torso. She imprisoned me within her grasp. I could do nothing but strain to meet her determined assault upon my welcoming ass-pussy. I was Mariel’s to do as she pleased. I was as much a sex toy for her pleasure as I had been for Aunt Phaedra and Alexis.
I could hear the increased tempo of her rapid breathing. Her grunting was almost unladylike for this grand, elegant female. From the increased tightness of her grip around my waist I had the expectation that she was reaching an apex of sorts.
Madame Mariel began a sing-song incantation. To my untrained ear, it was in some strain of a mystic, ancient tongue. The timbre of her voice became almost operatic. It became hypnotic to me as I approached the summit of a pre-orgasm.
I was quite close to my nirvana and sensed it. I could hear her guttural moaning along with her melodious chanting. From within the depths of me came a sissified trill I would once have deemed too feminine even for me. My damn burst, and a confusing mixture of womanly sensations surrounded me.
All at once I thought I’d been lifted from the bed and was floating on a cloud of silks, satins and chenille lace. It was as if my hair was now waist-length, platinum blonde and a mass of soft, permed, spirally curls. I dreamed I’d been powdered and perfumed and laid upon an elegant divan.
I was wearing a stylish negligee and awaiting my lover. My breasts were plump and pendulous D-cups. My penis and balls were missing, and I had a smooth, hairless, waxed vagina. I was some sort of fairy-tale princess. I saw the shadow of my paramour.
My devotee was of an undetermined sex. In my mind, whether male or female I would welcome this person with my arms and pussy wide open. Then as my entire body shuddered, I knew my sperm was streaming wildly from my distended cock. I seemed to pump it out endlessly until I collapsed, totally spent.
When my eyes opened, Mariel was standing over me smiling. I realized where I was and what we had been doing. Mariel was holding one of the pillows which had been underneath my abdomen during our lovemaking. I felt wonderfully sated and drained. I smiled back at her feeling as weak as a kitten.
“You look very dreamy there my love. You did very well. Now Caprice, when you feel up to it, I’d like for you to lick off this sticky, gooey mess that spurted so beautifully from your lovely clitoris. Care to do it now, my sweet Caprice?” Mariel asked, her eyes twinkling brightly.
I obeyed and nodded. There was now a commonality occurring here that I recognized. The licking up or drinking of my sperm after lovemaking. The repetitive usage of the term, “Lady’s Companion.” That was a terminology I’d never, ever been exposed to.
As I licked the semen from the pillow she seemed quite pleased. Then Mariel got back into her luxurious King bed, pulled the coverlet over us and embraced my willowy body in her tight grasp. We mused contentedly.
I told her I was certain I’d been unceremoniously dumped by Alexis. She assured me I was correct. She also let me know I would get over it, as she would now be caring for me. Caring for me better that I’d ever dreamed I could be coddled.
“If you choose to stay here with me Caprice, you will live in the very indulged lap of luxury. Of which you’ve never dreamed existed. I will robe you in the latest of custom-fitted, runway fashions. Your only duties will be to keep this home as you do your aunt’s. You will of course see to it that I dine properly,” she petted me.
“You will keep yourself pretty for me. That won’t be difficult with the beauty products and very frequent salon pampering’s I will provide for you. Lastly you will indulge me in my boudoir and pamper me equally in return. Of course, you will obey me without query,” she said as her gorgeous blue eyes pierced thru me.
We each drank another glass of wine, and we now had time to finish off the marijuana joint she had stubbed out when our lovemaking began. I was truly high as a kite. I recall eating a light supper and returning to the boudoir.
Mariel picked up her cell phone and called someone. That “someone” turned out to be my Auntie Phaedra. I tried reaching for the phone and Mariel slapped my hands away.
“Yes, Phaedra darling. I know she isn’t home yet. Forgive me but Caprice is here in bed with me. No, I am afraid she is in no condition to drive her vehicle anywhere. Why? Because she and I have drank a good bit of wine and smoked a little too much dope. We smoked high quality Mexican Marijuana, Phaedra. Yes, and drank a liter of white wine,” Mariel explained.
“If you wouldn’t mind very much, I’d prefer to keep her here with me for the weekend. Oh, I was thinking of sending her home to you sometime Sunday afternoon. Would you like to speak with her? Well then, thank you Phaedra, I’ll take good care of Caprice. What?” Mariel asked.
“Yes, I called her Caprice. I call her Caprice because I find it sexier and more demurely feminine than Martina. Plus, I just like the name. Many women use their middle name, Phaedra. Well, it’s my new pet name for her and I will continue to refer to her as Caprice. Yes, I do know you can’t possibly stop me from doing it,” shrugged Mariel.
“Phaedra, I love and adore you also darling. Yes, ciao my love. She is in good hands. Until then Phaedra,” Mariel smiled as she clicked off her cell.
“Now where were we my precious pet. Come here to Mumsy. So, would you like to think about staying here with me dear? Think it over. In any event what would you like to do here this weekend? I have a lovely horse you could ride. We could have a picnic,” Mariel chirped.
I looked at her and smiled seductively. “Just so you are certain you really want me here with you. Would you like to test the merchandise you are purchasing, Madame Muriel?” I said, licking my lips.
“My, but you are a bright, little lady aren’t you. Yes, we should do that. Come to Mumsy Caprice,” Mariel said, grabbing me around my waist.
Chapter VI: Esmerelda’s Encore
Mariel had purchased the 30-acre estate when it needed a lot of work. She had refurbished the mansion, revitalized the stables, completely re-landscaped the grounds and gardens. There were dense woods to ride in and enough pasture for eight horses.
A landscaping company maintained the grounds and gardens. Though, Mariel had some garden plots she had marked off that were exclusively in her care. When I could get away from my housekeeping, she would have me accompany her in her gardens.
She would only permit me to water. She did not want me dirtying my attire, mussing my hair or smearing my makeup. Mariel shared the stable-hand, Carlos, from the estate of Cynthia Abercrombie. As you might recall, from an earlier chapter, Carlos was Ms. Abercrombie’s stud.
I no longer was employed at my aunt’s salon. Nor did I care for her books any longer. Auntie Phaedra had found a student taking night classes at community college to assume those duties.
My housekeeping responsibilities were now being performed by a student from a nearby school, in Westchester County, New York. The school was named The Winthrop Institute. It was some sort of academy that trained maids, secretaries, hairdressers and nannies for the very wealthy.
This girl apparently was in the intern, work-study phase of her education and needed the extra credits. Auntie was very glad to assist her. My only misgiving now, would be, the eventual meeting of Melanie, Alexis’ lover during the upcoming Spring Break. Plus, seeing Alexis for the first time since she had dumped me.
It happened soon enough. In late March, Alexis and Melanie drove to the estate on their way to New York, and eventually, the Golden Isles of Georgia for vacation. I was sent to sit in the gardens and await Alexis. As I would always do, I obeyed Madame Mariel.
“I will send her out to see you. She will be polite and contrite. I can assure you of that darling,” my mentor guaranteed me.
I waited. I heard the click of high-heels on the wide, paved pathway. Alexis came into view. I stood up to greet her. We hugged.
“I’m so sorry Martina. I mean Caprice. Mother said you are now to be called Caprice. I love that name. I always did. I treated you so very shabbily. I really thought I could change and find love with a beautiful sissy-boy. But I’m not like my mother,” she said matter-of-factly.
“I’m a lesbian. That’s all there is to it. I still love you as a friend, Caprice. Come and meet Melanie. I do hope you can forgive me, darling?” Alexis asked.
“Yes, of course. I forgive you. Your mother and I are very happy, and that is all that matters to me, Alexis,” I smiled.
Meeting Melanie was nice. However, I was glad when they went their way. Now, my love Mariel and I could be alone. Her housekeeper had retired. Mariel and I were the sole occupants of the home. When April came, spring really got into bloom. Mariel spent weekends teaching me how to ride. She dressed me in riding pants, boots, blouse and jacket, and we rode English, into the woods. These were the only times she allowed me in slacks.
I was permitted only skirts, blouses, dresses and lingerie. At all times I was to wear high-heels. For exercise she allowed me tights, leotards and ballet slippers. My hair was always “done,” and I had to wear full makeup, with at least two sets, if not three sets of earrings. She insisted I constantly be perfumed.
I was to carry at least a clutch bag with me nearly everywhere, to repair my makeup. Especially, to fix my lipstick. My waist was to stay at 22 inches and my weight was not permitted to be over 125 pounds. If I ever exceeded these limits Mariel had already warned me of the consequences.
“I’m installing your lacing bar from your aunt’s home. If I see you getting too plump, it’s the lacing bar and corsets for you until you are slimmed back down. As a sissy you need reminders of your increasing girlishness. That’s one of the reasons we have you wear a plug,” she explained.
“Multiple earring piercings and long hair is another. Doesn’t the tickling of your neck and face by the ear jewelry and your long, inverted bob give you an increased awareness of your femininity? How about your extended fingernails, when you have slight difficulty picking something up? Mariel added.
“All those and many others are taken for granted by us real ladies. For you sissies we have to magnify them. For instance. A tight pencil skirt restricting your stride to a mincing wiggle. The feeling of your hosiery against your freshly waxed legs,” Mariel mused.
“There is something you need to think about. I’m satisfied with the shape and plumpness of your butt. The weight has redistributed itself nicely. I do want to increase your boobs to at least a “B” cup for now. You are to see my gynecologist for a consultation,” Mariel paused.
“She will take you thru the choices of increased hormone dosages, along with testosterone blockers or breast implants. Or any combination of the three. For the time being I’ll leave the choice to you,” she said.
One afternoon, in late April, Mariel packed her Lexus SUV and we drove to the far end of the property near a stream. There were several large stumps, and a nice clearing in the woods. She brought a blanket, some wine, cheese, crackers and some fruit.
We sat on the blanket and had a romantic picnic. I laid my head in her lap while she fed me grapes. I was becoming so aroused. I got to my knees and tossed my long hair back, coquettishly. Mariel rose and walked over to seat herself on a large stump.
Of course, she wore slacks and boots. My only concession to hyper-femininity had been to be allowed to wear a pump with a slight, wedge style, two-inch heel. She laid a small towel at her feet and told me to come over to her and kneel on the towel. Of course, she didn’t want me to tear my panty-hose.
I knelt and looked up at her and then gasped. She took a small box, with a beautiful diamond engagement ring, from the pocket of her Harris-Tweed waistcoat. She held it for me to see.
“Caprice. Do you vow to always obey me and to one day join in a marital union with me?” Mariel asked.
“Oh yes, Mariel my love! I’m so excited I can’t think! Oh yes, my love I will marry you! Yes, I will always obey you. I will be your love- slave, my dearest Mariel. Oh please? Please place that beautiful ring on my finger. Please?” I begged her, as I waved my left hand with my spread, wiggling fingers.
It was such a hyper-femme, girly thing to do but I couldn’t help myself. She smiled and placed the engagement ring on my finger. She stood up and motioned for me to stand. I leapt to my feet and we embraced in a magical kiss. I swooned like an enchanted Southern belle at a hot summer cotillion.
As we drove back to the mansion, to eventually make love, she spoke of a wedding, at her estate in mid to later June. The excitement just overcame me, and I became flush with chills. I was going to marry this grand lady. It mattered not, to me, that she was old enough to be my mother or aunt.
As an immature sissy, not yet out of my teens, I needed the stability of a mature female in my life. I had great difficulty making any sort of life decision. Being told what to wear, how to look and what to do was just wonderful to me.
Very late that evening, after torrid lovemaking, Mariel Collingsworth began to educate me in the ways and the ritual, of the mystical Cassandra Sisterhood. I was enthralled, to say the least. Now I realized why the waitresses at the Athena Chalet curtsied so delightfully.
After all, they were sissy maid trainees from the Westchester County, Winthrop Institute. As was also, I now realized, my Auntie Phaedra’s new housekeeper. I’d also often wondered why Alexis never spoke of her father or Muriel of an ex-husband.
It appears that Mariel’s ex, had been disgraced for infidelity, in a heated, nasty, custody and divorce battle. Mariel had seen to it that he was ruined financially, socially, professionally and emotionally. He was then turned over to the Sisterhood for behavior modification and emasculation.
He now graced the regal parlor and the lavish dining room of Cynthia Abercrombie’s mansion, as a well-adorned, mincing lady’s maid. I was to hear more in the upcoming days. Each revelation confirmed to me that I had entered into a bond with a woman who was not to be trifled with or ever disobeyed.
Nor was I to ever oppose the authority of the Sisterhood she so dearly esteemed. Knowing what I now knew, I realized both my aunt and likely Alexis were also members. Had I known everything, I might have reconsidered my most recent decisions.
The wedding planning went on around me, with me remaining yet oblivious. I was subjected from time to time, to preliminary fittings for my trousseau. Lingerie, footwear, and various gowns were brought to the mansion by assorted courtiers. I would be displayed on a pedestal as measurements were taken and various styles and colors discussed.
My Aunt Phaedra was often present. Everything from my hair color, hair style and make up would be deliberated. Minute details such as jewelry and even my shade of nail polish were regular topics. My long bob had grown out quite a bit, as had my body perm and color. Mariel wanted everything to be new and special for the wedding.
“I want her in a sleek, medium-length to long, page-boy with bangs, Phaedra. Medium blonde with a platinum highlighting. Why don’t we get her into your salon on the next Cassandra spa day to at least have the cut and base color done?” Mariel suggested.
“Of course, Mariel. Then we can do the highlights just before the wedding. The next spa day is less than two weeks prior to your nuptials. A page boy? You want Caprice’s hair down for the ceremony?” Aunt Phaedra asked.
“Yes. I’m having mine done up very regally. She’s to be the epitome of the demure, innocent maiden about to be ravaged. I want her in a fishtail gown and tall stilt heels, wiggling her way up the aisle. I know that style of gown will rule out a bare-bottom paddling, but I adore the effect of the restricted gait and showing off her darling figure,” Mariel gushed.
“Initially I was hoping I could get her into Doctor Bardot’s clinic for implants prior to the wedding. But that was impractical. With a figure-hugging gown, her pert A-cups will show off her youth and her innocence more strikingly. She’s going to turn heads among the Sisters,” Mariel announced.
It was true. Doctor Bardot wanted to put me on a higher hormone dosage for a couple of months before she gave me implants. I opted for “C-cup” implants, to the delight of Mariel. We would be honeymooning in the Cayman’s at a new Winthrop Foundation resort.
When we returned I’d go into the clinic for my boob job. I would have to get used to resorts and clubs that were sponsored by or catered to the Cassandra Sisterhood. I decided to ask Alexis to be my maid of honor and Melanie to be my bridesmaid. Mariel was delighted. Of course, Auntie Phaedra would give me away.
A retiring High Priestess, Grand Mater Esmerelda, would be officiating. Mariel had some financial connection with her. She was flying from California and staying with us, until we left for our honeymoon. It would be her last official ceremony in the Sisterhood. Mariel was very excited about that.
On the second Monday in June, Mariel and I drove to “The Pampered Princess” for the private Cassandra spa day. I’d had my hair done at this same salon when I worked there. But I was never a real customer. This was going to be different. The “Princess” was really bustling that day.
There was activity everywhere. Gretchen, my favorite assistant manager greeted us. “Oh my, the soon to be very happily wedded couple! How exciting. I have you both in the same cube with Angelica and Marie. Come along. Can I get either of you a glass of wine and some hors dourves?” Gretchen asked.
“No. Let’s save those until about midway thru the makeovers,” Mariel said.
Marie gave me my shampoo and condition and would be doing all of my beauty treatment. Angelica would be doing the same for Mariel. This was the first time I’d been in any salon, where I wasn’t asked how I wanted things done.
Marie deferred directly to Mariel for every question on the type of color and cut, she was expected to give me. There was also something else that had become an everyday part of my inner sissy. I had begun to have doubts. For instance.
From time to time I would wonder if I was really pretty enough to keep Mariel interested in me after we married. I’d see myself in the mirror and wonder if I was too fat. I’d ask myself if my hair style was boring. I’d wonder if I’d wore too much or two little makeup.
I didn’t realize I was becoming more and more like the stereotypical, self-depreciating, neurotic, very self-conscious, style-queen, girly-girl. I just didn’t feel I was good enough. I wondered if I’d gotten the house clean enough, if the meals I cooked were tasty and if how I looked everyday was appealing to Mariel.
So, I was happy and not disturbed that I wasn’t being consulted on the hairdo or color they would be giving me. Mariel was the center of attention for both Marie and Angelica. They were treating her like some sort of queen. I had to admit though, Mariel was the epitome of a queen.
While they were chatting, Mariel asked, cheerily, “Did Cynthia Abercrombie come here today? Even if she didn’t, does she ever bring that sissy, I once mothered a child with?” Mariel laughed.
Both Angelica and Marie looked at each other and smirked. Marie patted me on the shoulder. Then Marie answered her question.
“Cindy had some important business to care for today. No, she’s not here. I’m not certain which sissy you are speaking of. However, Cindy always brings her sissy-maid, Polly. Was Polly really your ex?” Marie asked disbelievingly.
“Yes, that’s her, I’m afraid. Happily, she is Cindy’s concern now. She was never Polly when she lived with me. She wasn’t a she then either. But, she made the huge mistake of crossing me, though. I’ve seen her at Cynthia’s and Cindy has done her up quite prettily. Lots of curls and makeup. Really tight-fitting attire, especially around her pendulous bodice” Mariel laughed.
“Well Polly did make it today. Cynthia had to cancel her own appointment and we fully understood. But she did send Polly along, driven by the chauffer she uses. Polly needed her perm freshened-up. You’re correct. Cindy does keep her sissy-maid in lots of curls. She’s in the next cube to the right by the way,” pointed Marie.
“Is she? Well once you put my hot-rollers in, I’ll take that wine and some peeled shrimp. Then I’ll see how the nicely permed sissy is doing,” Mariel laughed.
When my haircut was completed I certainly had a different look. From a wavy, long inverted bob, to a sleek, collar-length page-boy with fluffed bangs. Now Marie began bleaching my dark blonde hair before she would add in the medium, ash blonde base color.
Mariel was already having her peeled shellfish and sauvignon blanc. She had a light trim and just a touch up to her auburn tresses. Her pageboy cut was longer than mine. After her touch-up they rolled her up on medium-large hot curlers. As soon as she finished her light lunch she rose from her seat.
“While my hair is setting, I think I’ll visit with sissy Polly. It’s been much too very long,” she laughed.
When she reached the correct cube, we could just barely hear her greeting her sissified ex. “Polly darling, you look so lusciously pampered. Getting a fresh permanent wave, dearie? How do you enjoy waiting on Ms. Abercrombie hand and foot? Does she ever have to spank you?” Mariel asked.
Then while Mariel chatted with Polly’s stylist, Marie asked me some questions.
“So, are you excited about getting married? She seems to be very nice and very regal. She dotes on you, doesn’t she? Personally Caprice, I think she’s better for you than Alexis would have been. You’ve always needed someone willing to mother you. We’re all happy for you darling,” Marie added.
“I received my invitation yesterday. It appears Mariel is sparing no expense. The menu choices look like a diplomatic banquet. Plus, she is having a live band, the size of a small orchestra. I can’t wait to see the estate,” Marie said.
“Yes, I’m excited but also nervous about the wedding. You are correct. Mariel treats me like I’m a little princess. She can be very strict, but so understanding. I’m fitting into my role very well though. Of course, it’s the role she wants me to replicate. Essentially, she prefers me to pattern myself as a 1950’s to a mid-1960’s housewife,” I explained.
“I mean she doesn’t expect me to keep my hair in a big, bouffant ‘do’ or anything like that. She does expect me to be a stay-at-home housekeeper. I always greet her at the door and I’m completely dolled up at all times. I wait on her, prepare her meals, bathe her and pamper her to no end. It’s wonderful though,” I smiled.
“Just look at the wardrobe she provides me with. And she’s just fantastic making all my decisions for me. I don’t like thinking for myself. You’re correct. I need to be mothered day and night, Marie. Plus, Mariel is so considerate in the boudoir,” I whispered.
Lucky for me, as Mariel was just returning to have her hair combed out. Until my color took, I dined on peeled shellfish and vino. Then Mariel requested I have my hair rolled tightly on small brush rollers and be popped under the dryer for thirty minutes. Later I received a very curly a comb-out and final spray before we left the salon.
“I love the curls she gave you. They will eventually straighten out. It’s just a roller set. You’ll be luxuriating in soft waves tomorrow and by the next time you shampoo, you’ll have that sleek, lustrous look I want for our wedding,” Mariel smiled, touching my thigh as she drove.
“I simply must contact Cynthia Abercrombie to see if she finally had my ex properly neutered. Polly’s boobs and buttocks were bigger than ever. Plus, her face was much cuter and more babyishly rounded. She had a very girlish twinkle in her eyes. I’ve known a number of sissies who have had their testicles clinically sliced off. They suddenly show the very same signs of increasing outward sweetness, and very vibrant femininity,” Mariel intoned.
Mariel had given me my own very darling, feminine boudoir on the second floor of the magnificent mansion we lived in. The room dripped in pastels. Pinks, yellows, whites and soft fuchsia tints abounded throughout. The framed prints that graced the walls were all of females in lovely attire and dramatic coiffures, throughout the ages.
I had my own very ornate bathroom and private sitting room. I had a grand, antique vanity and a professional salon hair dryer. Whenever I set my hair I could sit under the warm whirring dryer and read fashion and beauty mags until my tresses were sufficiently done.
On the evenings when Mariel required my presence in her boudoir she would inform me to prepare myself properly and prettily to serve in her bed. On the drive home from the salon that day she said to me, “Indeed your tresses look so lovely and sophisticated now, I just want to sample your body this evening my love.”
When she took me to her bed that night, Mariel was just so tender and affectionate. She kneaded my breasts. She kissed me all over. She even mounted my penis. This was something she did not do very often. She slowly moved her hips up and down, squeezing my penis with her vaginal muscles, extending the sumptuous buildup and carnal yearning.
To her maternal amusement I was whimpering. She sniggered throatily and primitively. She teased her own clitoris with her fingers as she bent over me. I took her cue and massaged her beautiful breasts. She wiggled and moaned. She was giving me every sign that her trigger was ready to pop.
When she did go off she pumped my penis yet harder and faster. That was about all I could eventually take. I began to spurt. I mewled and whimpered softly in an effeminate, girlish trill. I began to have my now, very usual, fluttery, wistful, soul-searching, but forceful climax.
Mariel reached her crescendo near the same moment. As our peaks subsided we fell into each other’s arms and lay in a devoted, amorous, Sapphic embrace. If this was a prelude to our future mating, I so looked forward to our existence in concert as one.
_________________________________________________________
The early morning sunlight, thru the chenille curtains of my girly boudoir, warmed me. It was the morning of my wedding. I minced to the balcony overlooking the grounds. There were vehicles parked, which I did not recognize. Likely the caterers, and other vendors servicing our nuptials.
Esmerelda, the Grand Matriarch of the Cassandra Sisterhood had arrived late the evening prior. I had been privy to meet her. As instructed I had curtsied, fell to my knees and kissed the toes of her patent leather pumps. She had been gracious in her assessment of me.
“A most lovely, nubile concubine, my Sister Mariel. You may look at me child. Yes. She’s quite glamourous. A beautiful head of thick, wonderfully coiffed tresses. Excellent, girlish features. Slim, yet with pert tits and a lovely set of buns. Where I not in the sunset of my time I might sample her delectable treasures,” winked the stately matron.
The inherent beauty of this majestic matron was ageless, timeless, mysterious and most bewitching. Had she asked me to her boudoir for the evening as she implied, I would have gone excitedly. I would have gladly pleased her, to her heart’s content.
She directed me to stand and motioned for me to approach her. Closing her eyes and murmuring, she touched my face. Her slender fingers parted my lips and entered my mouth. She felt my gums, teeth and tongue. She opened her eyes and nodded.
Inexplicably enough, I wasn’t fearful of this unusual behavior. A calm had overcome me. I awaited her next action. She turned to my loving patroness, Mariel. “She is taking hormones, is she not?” Esmerelda asked, and Mariel nodded.
“This one doesn’t need those. Inwardly she is a female. She should have been born a female. She only needs the remedies of the Wiccans to bring the girl out of her. I have a text written by a former Priestess of our society. She unlocked the herbal riddles of the Wiccans. You may have my copy,” Esmerelda added.
I went to my boudoir that evening wishing I was in Esmeralda’s bed. After a short period of fitful sleep, thinking of the High Priestess’ words, I slept beautifully. I dreamed of being with her. We strolled thru woodlands together and picked flowers. I desperately wanted her to grab me and ravage me. Sadly, she did not.
I bathed that morning and used a shower cap to protect my hair, which had bet set on large, plastic curlers. I thoroughly moisturized my entire body. I sat in my sitting room, to await the courtier and her assistants. Marie, from the “Pampered Princess” would also be along.
I dreaded being laced into a corset for this event. My Aunt arrived holding a goblet which she handed to me. “Drink this Caprice. It’s a tincture. It was mixed for you by the High Priestess,” my aunt announced.
I didn’t need any prompting. Esmeralda seemed to have a lasting hold on my consciousness. Once I drank the essence, the courtier and her minions arrived. Dressed in high heels, stockings, panties and panty girdle I was escorted to my feared lacing bar.
I held tightly to the crosspiece. The courtier spared me the indignity of being shackled to the bar by handcuffs. Two girls from her staff wrapped the imposing corset around my already slender torso. As they proceeded to snug the laces I felt the all too familiar restricting of my waistline.
The smiles on their faces, told me that these young ladies enjoyed their work. It may have been the herbal medicine I’d been given, as I didn’t feel faint and my breathing remained normal. Was I to be saved from the humiliation of being revived by smelling salts, after a girlish swoon?
My brassiere was fitted to me next. As one of the girls tugged the bra snaps together the courtier measured my waist. She smiled, as she proudly announced the measurement of twenty-inches. I was turned to the mirror to observe my slim waist and my pushed-up bosom.
As to not muss my hair, once it was done by Marie, I would now be put into my strapless, fishtail gown. Marie, my hairdresser, had arrived, and stood to the right, watching, contentedly. At least my Mariel had the gown custom fitted and specially altered. The hem of the fishtail on the original gown would have went to my ankles.
Mariel had wanted to show off at least some of my coltish legs. The gown length had been adjusted to mid-calf. “I want people to view all of your best features dear, and your legs are definitively part of that,” she teased.
At the very least my stride would only be limited to six inches instead of three. The strapless feature would provide a nice view of my pushed-up boobs. The snug fit would accentuate my pronounced hips and buttocks. Mariel also decided on the absence of a veil and elaborate head-piece.
“I want everyone to view what a gorgeous creature I am taking as a bride. Your glamorously painted, doll-like face, plump lips and thick blond tresses will be on display for everyone to see,” she added happily.
When I was finally into the gown, Marie, the hair stylist took over. She draped me with a protective cape. She quickly removed the large plastic curlers. She then used a light mist spray to dampen my hair. She smoothed and brushed my locks into a sleek, shining, perfectly shaped page boy.
My platinum highlights had recently been added. In the lights surrounding the vanity my hair sparkled. Marie had me raise my face to her. She treated my beautiful skin as if she were Pablo Picasso with a paint-brush and blank canvas. She highlighted all my best features, ending with soft, pink, coral lipstick on my mouth.
As I entered the great room where our marriage ceremony was to be held, my Aunt Phaedra took me by the arm. I saw Alexis and Melanie smiling. From all the practices that had been held, I knew my humbling vows by heart. I knew I’d be paddled by Mariel.
The reception seemed endless. The tall five-inch heels and the hobbling gown tired me. At least Mariel cut our stay at the festivities short. On the way to the airport I sat in the back seat of Mariel’s Mercedes as Esmeralda traveled with us to the airport. She was catching her flight back to California.
My eyes teared as I knew I never see her again. Then as she touched my face and kissed my lips, this queenly High Priestess said, “I will see you again, sooner than you expect my child.”
La Denouement
The Cayman Islands were lovely. Mariel and I made love everywhere we could, including in an alcove, at midnight, on a sandy beach. When we returned to Connecticut one of the first things she did was to clear a new space in her gardens for the planting of special herbs.
After the first harvest, she showed me which herbs would be used for teas. Others would be used for tinctures, poultices, and packs. One day I helped her grind up some of the plants and mix a poultice. It was a warn spring day. She took me to the south balcony of the mansion and had me strip.
With not a stich of clothing on she had me lay on a chaise lounge. She covered my breasts with a sticky poultice. She had me lay in the warm sun. Later she would rinse off the herbal pack, apply another to my hips and buttocks and I laid face down in the warming sun.
This would become a weekly ritual. I drank teas at least twice daily made from other herbs we’d grown. On my twentieth birthday Mariel took me to the clinic owned by Doctor Bardot. I received a complete exam. Throughout it Doctor Bardot said nothing.
I was weighed, measured, blood was drawn, I gave urine and she even prostate milked me for a sperm sample. At long last I dressed, and Mariel and I sat in her office and waited for her. She walked in shaking her head and then sat at her desk.
“Mariel. She’s been off hormones since the wedding. She’s never had implants. Those are real boobs. I’m a gynecologist, I know what real boobs look like. There is no trace of synthetic hormones in her blood. Yet she is a perfect, 36-22-36 with a C-cup. Tell me what is going on Mariel. Please?” Doctor Clarice Bardot asked.
Mariel smiled. “I really can’t. I have been sworn to secrecy by a Grand Mater and High Priestess of our Sisterhood, Clarice,” Mariel explained.
Clarice Bardot, being a member of the Sisterhood said nothing more. She knew the rubrics of the Society and asked nothing further.
Mariel continued my treatments on a lesser scale. Now she only needed to do enough to maintain my ladylike figure.
For my twenty-first birthday Mariel decided on an event at the mansion. Auntie, Alexis, Melanie, Doctor Bardot, the staff from the hair salon and assorted Cassandra members were invited.
The party was in full swing when I saw a limo pull up into our drive. To my surprise, Grand Mater and High Priestess Esmeralda stepped regally from the limo. I ran to take her bags. She put one hand up.
“Don’t forget to curtsey to me, child. That’s better. You can show the driver where to take my bags. He will be compensated handsomely. Now take my hand and escort me to your party. Since I’ve seen you last, you’ve become a lovely young female,” she said.
I was so happy the event was catered. No clean-up for me! Late in the evening I served Auntie Phaedra, Doctor Bardot, Priestess Esmeralda and Mariel an herbal drink. Then I was sent to my boudoir. I suspected Doctor Bardot and auntie were about to be taken into confidence by Esmeralda.
I know Esmeralda had retired as a High Priestess, but that is what she would always be to me. I knew what she was now doing, was passing down the Wisdom of the Wiccans to other members of the Sisterhood.
I lay in my bed, finding it difficult to sleep. There was tap on my door. I invited whoever it was to come in. I turned on a nightlight. I could smell the sandalwood and honeysuckle mixture she wore. She had on a sky-blue robe that shone in the moonlight.
She spoke, I heard her voice. It was Esmeralda. “I’ve decided to claim my belated rights, and to taste of the delights of the beautiful bride, Caprice,” my Priestess said.
“Please my High Priestess, take me. I belong to you this night,” I said.
The End
I am glad to read new story about Cassandra Sisterhood and gender role reversal marriage. ;)
ReplyDeleteAnd who is such a sexy girl with gorgeous legs? Our girl Alexis is! Thank you Alexis, you are so sweet.
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