Priscilla Gay Bouffant
Out of the clutches of the Sisterhood and no longer Antonio’s “trophy sissy,” Ron attempts to make it as a male in what seems to him to be a women’s world. He has choices to make.Chapter XII: The Transition
Since my last run in with the Sisterhood, and fulfilling my two year decree as Antonio’s “Trophy Girl,” I did manage to transition back to a male persona. Antonio begged me not to. He even proposed marriage. However I blatantly refused.
My parents agreed to release my trust fund to me, just so long as I enrolled in a four year business degree program at an in-state university. I did so and rented a small studio apartment nearby the school.
Enrolling and staying in college was a pre-requisite to having a monthly access to the trust fund. My old girlfriend, Phyllis Lane, had recently broken up with, my step-brother Brent. She assisted me in shopping for male clothes and getting my hair styled in a less feminine fashion.
I wanted to put as much distance between Ron/Rhonda as I could. I left my entire femme wardrobe at Antonio’s condo. I found out he passed the clothing along to Nicole. “I have your girl things here at the house Ron. Should you ever want to relax and just girly up with Ginny and I,” Nicole teased.
I also decided to use my middle name, which was Evan and would distance me from anything close to Ronnie, Ron or Rhonda. So I began to introduce myself as Evan Durant, and not, as Ron. Family and friends had problems adjusting to that. However, new people simply took it for granted as many people use their middle name, as a first name.
My perm had grown out and my medium brown hair was now very close to its original color. I was trying to put on some weight, but I still remained mostly slender.
I purchased a very nice used Toyota Camry, and began trying to change my vocal timbre, expressions, mannerisms, and style of walking, to much less girlish traits. After my freshman year I felt secure enough to begin dating females. Because I had been having sex with a very active bisexual, and occasionally with his male friends, I made certain I tested negative for any virus.
The only “attachment” to my past as Rhonda was the “Black Rose” tattoo. Antonio had forced me to get it, on my right side, just above my then, very girlish rump. He’d taken me to a biker tattoo parlor and he and the “Rough trade” biker bitch had strapped me down while she tattooed me.
The Black Rose, the symbol of the Cassandra Sisterhood, was surrounded by a circle of thorns. Above the top of the circle, in Hot Pink, scripted lettering was written “Cassandra.” The pink lettering signified, my place in the Cassandra Society, as a “Sissy.”
More than one of my college dates, including Miranda had remarked on the tattoo. In general, I would blush at the mention of it. Then I would explain it away as something a girlfriend and I got together.
“Was your girlfriend’s name Cassandra?” Miranda and the rest of my dates would ask.
“Yes. Her Black Rose has my name above it,” I would explain.
What else would I have told them? That I was the subjugated “Trophy Sissy” of a bisexual hairdresser? It was hard not to remember that day. Tied down, wearing nothing but panties, bra and high heels.
Antonio was laughing. He and the biker slut were smoking a joint. The heavily perfumed female, biker, bimbo, tattoo artist was cackling. I’ll never forgot her heavy makeup and her head full of heavily sprayed, champagne blond, big, upswept, curls.
It was so shameful being bound up, like a sissy bitch, and tattooed for life with the secret mark of Cassandra. The only reason I never got it removed was that I had no desire to be inconvenienced by the lengthy process it would take, to remove any tattoo. Besides, I couldn’t see it.
Phyllis Lane, turned out to one of the girls I dated, though there were others that I found to be very appealing. It was during this time, during my sophomore year in college, that I found out, that some of the things I had learned, as a subjugated sissy, worked in my favor with females.
My dates, including Phyllis, would even point these things out. For one, I always, very readily complemented my dates on their hair and clothing. I had never done that, and found that ladies really love those complements. I also had no trouble when a girlfriend wanted to look for and shop around, for new fashions.
Not only that, I had no problem helping them pick out clothing in the store or before a date. Lastly, my love making had changed to a very tender, caring style. I would always take great care to be certain my female partners were satisfied. I was used to “going down” on women and licking and sucking, their clit, to satisfy them orally.
I also had no problem with the girl getting on top. After some torrid lovemaking, I would enjoy gently snuggling. During my sophomore year I dated a lovely, actually spectacular, grad student named Miranda Paget. Her father was from England and her mother from India.
Miranda was dazzling and really a brilliant Business/Economics student. She could be very playful, especially in bed. One evening she teased me, after a truly exhausting session of sex.
“You are such a fabulous lover Evan. You know, after a few dates with you, some of my girlfriends told me you were probably gay,” she laughed.
“What! Why?” I asked incredulously.
“I told them how considerate you were. I told them how you always brought me flowers and complemented me on my appearance. I told them how you would help me pick out my clothes for a date, and tell me what hairstyle would look best for where we were going,” she smiled.
“They told me, normal straight college guys didn’t do stuff like that. Of course I never told them what a fabulous lover you were and what fantastic oral sex you provided me! Nor did I tell them you were a few years older and more sophisticated with woman than any sophomore,” Miranda laughed.
It was true. When I finally graduated from college with my Bachelor’s degree in Business/Economics I was between my 28th and 29th birthday. Though I considered Grad school, I waited a week or two and then sent out some resumes. Mine wasn’t too attractive considering my spotty job history. Then I saw an internship at a financial services concern called, Vermillion Wealth Initiatives.
I gave it a shot and was pleasantly surprised when I was called in for an interview with HR. I arrived, dressed in my best suit, a tie, shined shoes with a fresh haircut, though I still kept my hair longish, full, and collar length.
You can imagine my shock and surprise, when the assistant to the head of Human Resources was Miranda, my half-Indian lover from college.
“Well hello Evan. When I saw your resume I just had to bring you in for an interview. First let me tell you that the internship, is as an assistant to our CEO, Lila Vermillion. Her great-grandfather began this company,” Miranda smiled.
The interview with Miranda, went well. My GPA from my 4 college years was my strongest suit. After all, I had almost a 3 year gap, between my transformation and the time as Antonio’s Trophy Sissy. Plus my job history before that wasn’t stellar.
For the gap, I had listed, “Self-employed, House cleaning business,” which was as close as I could get to “Sissy Maid.” Finally the interview ended and Miranda walked me all the way to the front entrance of the building and walked out onto the sidewalk with me.
“I will see to it that Ms. Vermillion gets a grand report from me, on you. I will recommend you highly Evan. Evan, why don’t we get together some evening. You are still the most special lover, I have ever had. I really miss getting that attention from a male,” she smiled, seductively.
“Of course Miranda. I would love that,” I added.
“Because Evan, if you do get the job, and I think you will, Ms. Vermillion is going to keep you so busy, I will never get to see you,” she pouted.
“She can’t be that bad?” I queried.
“Don’t you ever say, I didn’t warn you Evan,” winked Miranda.
Chapter XIII: Lila Vermillion
Lila Vermillion, was, in a word, exotic. She combined, in an absolutely exquisite package, style, grace, elegance, brains, beauty and good breeding. To be in her presence was awe inspiring. I now understood, the true meaning of being spellbound.
Her nails were perfectly manicured and colored in a soft coral shade. Her chic, collar length coiffure, was perfectly bobbed. Her thick, dark brown tresses were highlighted with the perfect amount of satin, burgundy tint. Her skin and makeup were flawless.
Her voice was melodious and I hung on every word she spoke. Her perfectly tailored suit skirt, fit her divinely tanned, and faultless, female form, like a second, picture-perfect skin. Her jewelry consisted of two impeccably placed, pearl studs, a matching necklace, and a top-of-the-line, Lady’s Rolex.
Her heels were exclusive European Imports. Her posture was flawless. I had never imagined being so impressed with a female in my wildest dreams. I would, at a later date, discover her to be in her early 40’s. She looked ten years younger.
“Well Evan, you came highly recommended by Miranda, though I detected a personal interest at some point,” she smiled with two, slightly raised, finely arched, eyebrows.
“You appear from your resume, to be the classic late bloomer. It often occurs in affluent families, where the father is a highly respected, very successful, financier like Ronald E Durant Senior,” she said, assuredly.
“You know my father, then?” I asked, almost too suspiciously.
“I only know of him. We’ve met of course, but only casually. I doubt he’d remember me. But I know from your full name you are his son. I see you are trying to make up for the lost time. Excellent GPA at college. Also your use of your middle name shows me you are not trying to capitalize on his,” she said firmly.
Oh boy, if she only knew. Plus I couldn’t imagine any red-blooded male, including my father, ever forgetting a meeting with this magnificent vision of female splendor.
“You already know the starting salary range. Though it is commensurate with experience, I have a feeling about you Evan. I believe you are attempting to catch up and will hit the ground running. I’m going to increase the lowest level by ten per cent,” she added.
“That’s very generous, Ms. Vermillion. I intend to do everything I can to prove your instinct is correct,” I promised.
“I know you will Evan. You need to know that I am excessively demanding of my employees, especially an assistant that will be as close to me as you will be. You will be in every meeting I am in. You will travel with me. You will likely be expected to work late hours and some weekends, just as I do,” she warned.
“Some employees might tease you about following me around like a puppy dog, but that will be sheer office gossip. You may even be spending some overnights at my home. When we travel we will share a suite at a hotel. Separate rooms of course,” she said with a wry smile.
“I did a brief check. Your studio condo, is close to the Interstate, outside of Atlanta. That’s perfect. My Great-Grandad’s estate is not far off the Interstate, itself. I now reside there. With servants, whom, I also inherited, you might say. It’s in a secluded area, private and gated, of course. Outside of Dunwoody,” she said in a casual manner.
“So, Evan. If you are up to the challenge, I want to offer you the job,” she smiled extending her hand.
I accepted without a second thought.
Chapter XIV: Into Her Web
Lila Vermillion was not jesting at all when she said she could be very demanding. Nor was she being dismissive when she had added that I might be following her around like a “puppy dog.” However, nothing seemed to affect my relationship with any of the other employees in the office.
In fact the other employees were highly supportive of me in every way. Understand that this is a predominantly female run company and has an overabundance of women, especially in the high level positions. One afternoon after delivering some private correspondence to Miranda’s supervisor, I was asked to wait.
Louisa, Miranda’s boss looked things over, nodded and smiled. “Thank you Evan. Evan, I want to tell you, I see and hear so many great things about you. You are friendly, pleasant and a real team player. You always look so well-groomed and dress so nicely,” Louisa said.
“Oh thank you ma’am. I appreciate that. I hope you don’t think I’m being too forward when I say that you continually look, so very attractive,” I said.
“No Evan I don’t think you are being forward. This is a very female oriented office. We complement each other on our grooming often. We take great pride in our clothing and our primping. We’re not intimidated by compliments from men. Especially a sweet young man like you,” she smiled.
“Miranda always spoke so highly of you, even before you ever sent your resume. You really had an effect on her in college. She always said you were the best boyfriend she had. Especially where confidence builders like compliments were concerned,” Louisa added.
So Miranda really talked me up? Wow. I had always really liked her.
“That makes me feel really good Ms. Louisa. I need to get back to Ms. Vermillion now,” I smiled.
A full month into the job, Lila Vermillion informed me we’d be flying from Atlanta to Los Angeles on the following Sunday evening. “We should arrive in L.A. at about 8 PM Pacific. We have two days of meetings and business with an important client. Another day of the same with a new customer. Then Thursday we’ll meet with a perspective investor,” she told me.
“The three clients we are seeing, are all in Beverly Hills, so we are staying at the Beverly Hills, Hilton. I don’t want to fly back until Saturday, mid-morning though. I’d like to spend that Friday in Beverly Hills, relaxing, sight-seeing, doing some shopping, maybe even get pampered at a favorite salon of mine,” she smiled.
The evening we arrived I was so very impressed with the suite we were in. Two large bedrooms, baths, and living room, with an ultra-large sitting room, that interconnected both sides of the suite. That evening I realized I’d forgotten any sort of sleepwear or slippers.
“No problem Evan. I’ll have the boutique here at the hotel send some things up, tomorrow,” she added. Amazingly enough she estimated my sizes correctly.
The morning of our first meetings, I knocked at the connecting door between the sitting room and Ms. Vermillion’s room. She told me to enter. She was posed in front of the full length mirror in her boudoir checking herself out. I thought she looked amazing.
Surprisingly, she turned to me, gestured to herself and asked, “Well, Evan?”
“If you are asking me, how I think you look, Ms. Vermillion? I have to admit, I think you always appear sensational to me. If I’m not being too bold, of course?” I asked.
She smiled and strode confidentially towards me, saying, “Evan, you are so very adorable. If you only knew, what saying that means, to a 42 year old woman, coming from a male, 13 years her junior. I’ll just have to kiss you for that,” she added.
It was far from a motherly kiss. She took my face in her hands, puckered her carmine lips, and planted a soft but lengthy kiss on my mouth, whispering, “Thank you Evan. You are such a gorgeous doll-baby.”
The first day’s meetings were exhausting. As soon as we returned to our luxury hotel Lila suggested, “Let’s take either a bath or shower. Whatever you prefer. We’ll call room service, and have dinner sent up. Then we can then eat, relax and watch a movie.”
It sounded like a great idea until I came out of the bathroom after my bath, and saw the “sleepwear” the hotel boutique had sent up. It consisted of a set of black Harem Pajamas, what had to be a lady’s ballet slipper set, with a two inch heel, and a white, floral patterned Kimono.
I covered myself with the fluffy hotel robe and called to Ms. Vermillion.
“What is it Evan? Is something wrong?” Lila asked.
“The boutique sent up ladies’ clothing for me to wear. I can’t wear this stuff!” I practically exclaimed.
“Hmm. Well they do sell predominantly ladies’ wear in that particular boutique. But they market themselves as Unisex. Really those colors are not that feminine Evan. The slippers will be fine. They do match the pajamas,” she sighed.
“Seriously Evan, don’t be so macho. I didn’t think you were like that. You’ve always shown me such a sweet, sensitive side. Be secure in yourself. Besides darling, it’s only until Saturday. I’ll take them home with me and find someone that doesn’t mind wearing them,” she added, disenchanted.
Her disappointment swayed me. I went along with her opinion. One thing I didn’t want to do was dissatisfy Lila. Besides. I had certainly worn clothing that was ultra-femme, compared to these. These were hardly that girly.
Dinner was delicious. I didn’t drink any alcohol but I did mix Lila a vodka and tonic. I had not noticed, but, Lila had placed some foot and body lotion nearby along with a manicure/pedicure kit.
After room service picked up our dinner trays, Lila put on a really soppy “chick-flick,” and we relaxed. The she looked over at me and said, “Evan I have been in three inch heels all day. You have two inch heels on now. Possibly you can imagine how my feet feel after about ten hours in three inch spikes? Lila asked.
“Would it be possible for you to put some of that body lotion on my feet, Evan? I know it isn’t in your job description but I would dearly love you for it,” she smiled.
What else could I do? Pass up giving a foot rub to one of the most exotic females I had ever met? She was so appreciative. She cooed and sighed, smiling at me and told me how “amazing” I was.
“No wonder Miranda fell for you so hard, Evan. You know Evan. Miranda still carries a torch for you. By the way, Evan. Our company has no rules against employees dating as long as spats and jealousies don’t carry over into the workplace,” she chided.
I looked up at her and didn’t know what to say, except, “I didn’t know what the company rules were Ms. Vermillion. I have thought of Miranda often. Thank you for the compliments as well as the heads up.”
“Oh Evan my feet feel marvelous. Again you have exceeded my expectations. I think I’ll do my toenails now. Unless of course you wouldn’t mind giving me a pedicure?” Lila asked.
Again, the chance to touch her and pamper her, wasn’t something I wanted to pass up. The submissiveness, ingrained into the personality of a well-trained subservient, doesn’t go away overnight. Kneeling at the feet of a gorgeous, self-assured female was more than mildly erotic for me.
Never mind that I was wearing a satiny set of Harem Pajamas, a silky Kimono and ladies’ ballet heels, while I was giving my demanding female boss a pedicure. Then the obvious struck Lila’s consciousness. “Evan, you are very skillful at giving a lady’s pedicure. Did you ever work in a nail or beauty salon?” Lila asked.
Gulp! Busted! I could barely stammer an answer until I practically spit out, “Ah, no, Ms. Vermillion. I had a girlfriend in high school that went to beauty school. She liked having her nails done, so she taught me how, to do it,” I stumbled.
“Well that was sweet of you to do her nails for her. How nice. Hmm. So she taught you to give manicures, also, I guess? Interesting. I might want to add those responsibilities to your official duties. Then you could do my nails if things got slow at the office,” she mused.
Neither did it escape me that I was performing the dutiful obligations of a lady’s sissy maid either. In the back of my mind though, I envisioned the possibility of my acquiescence to Lila’s demands, resulting in a sexual encounter down the road.
After all we would be together at least for four and a half more days. Those days began to fly by. Early Thursday afternoon came, and we were in an Uber on our way back to the hotel.
“This was a fruitful expedition Evan. Three clients in less than four days. And we sewed up a new account. We deserve a day to ourselves tomorrow. I’ll make a few arrangements this afternoon. Well, we are officially off the payroll Evan, so let’s have some fun,” she encouraged.
We both took a shower, in our separate rooms. I slipped into some non- business casual and made my way into the sitting room. I could hear the faint hum of Lila’s blow dryer whirring beyond the sitting room doorway. “She must have her bathroom door ajar,” I thought idly.
She was taking some time and I almost stood up, to knock at the sitting room entranceway. Then the door opened. I detected her lovely scent before I saw her. She was exotically and heavily perfumed.
Her makeup was vibrant and alluring. She had fluffed and brushed her lovely hair much fuller than she normally wore it. Her earlobes sported flashing, glamorous, bejeweled, pendant earrings. She strode confidently atop her four-inch satin mules. She wore a red shorty negligee, opened to her waist, and belted. This showed off the striking beauty of her very firm bosom.
All I could possibly do was stare, gapingly, open-mouthed. I knew I was being seduced and had no earthly idea if I could handle this commanding female.
“Evan, I told you we were no longer on the company’s time. We are on our time. Time for fun. I made some calls and lined up some things for us to do in the morning. Right now, I want you in my bed, quite soon,” she sighed.
“Now come along. Don’t be afraid of me. I don’t bite. Well maybe I might bite your neck. We can even do something later this evening, on the town. Right now, we need to get to know each other better. Don’t you think?” Lila asked.
“I’m overwhelmed, Ms. Vermillion. I’m honored. I hope I can exceed your expectations, ma’am,” was all I could say.
“You don’t need to be so polite Evan. Though I do find it cute. Please. When we are screwing, don’t call me ma’am or Ms. Vermillion. Call me Lila, if you could. Okay Evan? Lila asked.
I nodded as I put my hand into her extended hand, and she pulled me into her bedroom. She unbuttoned my shirt, pulled it off me, and literally threw it back over her head. Then she unbuckled my belt. She kissed me hungrily on the mouth and put her hands inside my underwear.
“Oh my, darling, you are ready right now aren’t you? Well so is Miss Lila. You know what I like Evan? When I am in bed with someone, I love the feel of smooth, soft, silk and satin. Get your clothing off and slip into those harem pajamas you wore when you painted my toenails,” she smiled, pointing to the pajamas folded on her bed.
No matter what my mind might be telling me, my body told me not to break the mood. By the time I was sliding under the sheets to couple with her, I was in black satin pajamas. Lila immediately reached inside my pajama bottoms and grabbed my cock.
“Such a big cock, for such a pretty boy. Let’s lube it up,” she said, reaching for a small bottle of Sex-Lube on her bedside table. She rubbed some on my penis and even more inside her pussy. Sliding my pajamas down, she mounted my cock, with me lying flat on the bed.
She was on top, riding me. She bent over and as promised, bit my neck and began sucking it. She eventually left me a huge love bite there, for everyone to see. She sat up and started screwing me again. She rubbed her own breasts, frantically and smiled.
“First one, who has an orgasm has to satisfy the other with intense oral sex. Guess what Evan? I am making you have your climax first,” she teased.
I could feel the tightness of her puss around my rock hard penis as she rode up and down on it. I watched her gorgeous breasts bounce prettily and move in rhythm with her boobs. I could not hold out any longer and I came loudly, gasping and spurting into her puss. She loved it, shrieking as I shot my load. She took in my pulsing member. When I ceased spurting, she was off of my penis and on top of me covering me with kisses.
Finally she grabbed a hold of me and pulled me into position with my head about a third of the way from the headboard. Smiling she sat upon my chest and then positioned her cunt right over my face. My sperm was still spilling from it. “Time to eat pussy honey. Don’t mind the gizmo dripping out of it my twat. That belongs to my boyfriend,” she laughed.
Between my trying to catch my breath and lick her pussy, I could see she was already well stimulated from the screwing. As she ground her puss into my face, I sucked, licked and slurped for all I was worth. It payed dividends.
Soon she was bouncing up and down on my face as if she were on a joggling board. She started taking deep breaths and I knew she was very close. Then she screamed! She really started wiggling her puss and her butt into my face. It was so worth it! Her climax was really strong.
She had the best smelling pussy and body. I was finding myself getting deeply in lust with my boss. I was so conflicted. My sexy, rich boss. My cute, loving girlfriend from college who still had a thing for me. And of course, I was slowly finding myself being okay with wearing women’s clothing as long as Lila seemed to like it.
Chapter XV: Under Their Spell
I awoke Friday morning early, (6 A.M.) curled up in Lila’s arms. As I stirred, she did also and rolled over on top of me. “I’d like to keep you here in bed until our plane leaves Saturday, she said, kissing my throat. I don’t know if having you over for a working weekend is a good idea, now? Not sure we’d get much work done. Sex is so beautiful with you Evan,” she said as she kissed me greedily.
We were eating an early breakfast when she filled me in on our day. “I’ve got us booked into Salon Meche’ for some pampering. Facial, Hair, Nails, the works. I know the owner, Tracey, very well. I’ve got you lined up with a hot California blond named Alissa, as your beauty consultant,” she said.
“Hair, Face and nails? For me also?” I asked. “My own beauty consultant?” I thought.
“And why not? You sound apprehensive. Trust me you’ll love it. There is nothing like a pampering, at a really top salon, after an excruciating week of travel and business meetings. It winds you right down. You’d be surprised how many males you’ll see in there on a Saturday,” she explained.
Lila was correct. Alissa was a knockout. She took me over to the skin care lady and the nail tech came over shortly. Of course I had facials done before, but I didn’t let on. It was relaxing. The girl giving me the facial also gave me a neck and shoulder massage.
It wasn’t until my manicure and facial were done I noticed my nails looked a little more pink than they should. I thought the girl had used a clear lacquer? I mean, it was only a little bit pink, but still noticeable.
When I got over to Alissa she was having a short break. “Why don’t you share a Bran muffin with me Evan, and have a cup of Green tea?” Alissa asked.
Of course I would! Anything to look at and talk to, this gorgeous blond with the nicest set of pert boobs I’d seen in a while. I was ready to do anything for that privilege. Especially when it seemed like her boobs were inches from my face as she gave me a shampoo and condition. Honestly, after the shampoo I thought I knew what was going on, or so it seemed?
I even recalled Alissa having me hand her perm waving rods and papers. But I didn’t think anything of it. However, as she was combing me out, using a rat-tail comb, a light brush and lots of hair spray, it was like I was coming out of a trance! I certainly never recalled, asking her to make my hair wavy, and put in shimmery blond highlights!
“Oh Evan it looks stunning! Aren’t you glad we came here?” Lila asked.
“Well, I mean, what color is my hair? And where did all those waves come from? Did I just get a perm?” I asked.
“We though you needed to brighten things up a little, honey. Alissa changed your color from medium to a very light brown. Then she added some platinum blonde highlights. Personally I think you look gorgeous dear,” Lila added as Alissa gave me the most beautiful smile.
“I didn’t give you a perm Evan, just a soft body wave. See, just gentle curls, down the back and sides. Tousled bangs in front, also. All I did to your brows was lighten them and clean up some stray hairs,” added Alissa, running her fingers through my hair, and getting so close behind me, I could feel her boobs in my back and smell her beautiful scent.
I couldn’t say much. Even though my brows were precisely platinum now, along with being thin and high arched.
These were Lila’s friends. The owner was one of her investment clients. I couldn’t have made a scene if I wanted to. Besides, Lila thought it looked nice. I guess it wasn’t too feminine? At least when compared to how I once looked for Antonio.
And Lila? Oh, my goodness! Lila look more stunning than ever. I didn’t think that possible. Even after a salon appointment but I was wrong. Her dark hair was fuller and shinier. Her eyes, so opened up and bright. Her makeup even more pronounced.
We went from the salon, to a rather expansive boutique, catering to both men and women. Lila wanted to get me some slim fit slacks, shirts and jackets, for the office and business trips. I tried to talk her out of it, but she relented.
The boutique was high-dollar. Some things were off the rack, some tailored fit. Lila spent quite a bit of money on the both of us. For herself she bought shoes and lingerie, mostly. She was quite bold, modeling the lingerie and asking me how I liked it.
She got me the aforementioned mix and match, shirts, jackets and slacks. The slim fit stuff at this boutique, was even snugger than what I usually purchased. I was surprised how much time, the lady waiting on us spent with me. Especially the detail she expended in taking my measurements.
She even took my shoe size. I guess she saw Lila spending a lot on me and she wanted to be ready for a big sale. I had wondered about getting all these purchases onto the plane or even in our luggage. Then I realized Lila was having it all shipped to her estate.
“Meaghan, the other sleepwear and serving wear we spoke about? You go ahead and choose the styles and colors. You have a pretty good idea of what I am looking for,” Lila said.
“Oh indeed I do darling. Indeed I do. Evan. It was such a pleasure to meet you and fit you, dear boy. Come to Meaghan and let me give you a big hug and a kiss, sweetheart,” Meaghan added. Meaghan was an assertive, slightly plump woman. She was possibly as much as ten years older than Lila.
However, she was very well turned out and put together. She exuded, confidence and good breeding. She also showed a very sensuous presence. I liked her, and wondered what she would be like in bed?
“Evan. Go ahead and thank Meaghan. Then come along. We have much to do today,” Lila spoke. Indeed Meaghan gave me a very friendly hug and kiss. As we left the store Lila again led me about by holding my hand.
We had a busy day sightseeing, and doing lunch. We had dinner in the hotel room. At bedtime Lila cautioned me, “Wear a hairnet to bed, to protect your colorization and your body wave. And do not shampoo or get your hair too wet until Monday evening. You can spritz lightly with water but that is it.”
On the flight back to Atlanta, Saturday, she got more businesslike the closer we got to Atlanta. I was nervous when I got to work Monday. I figured I was in for some real teasing by the office staff about my new “Do,” but everyone was really supportive.
About all anyone commented was how “gorgeous” or “absolutely lovely” my hair looked. Even Miranda. In fact she even spent time walking around me, looking at me from every angle as if she was trying to get the full effect.
“Oh Evan. It’s to die for darling! Oh, let me touch it honey. Oh it’s so pretty! The cut, the color, and the curl. It’s all there. So, when are we going out? You know there is no company policy against us dating? And I would love for you to pick me up and take me to dinner this Saturday. Are we on?” Miranda asked.
I paused and then said, “Yes. Pick you up at six?” I asked.
“Yes Evan. Perfect. Now please tell Ms. Vermillion, right away, so she doesn’t plan something for the two of you this weekend,” Miranda smiled, turned on her heels and waved as she walked away happy.
I was really surprised when I arrived at Miranda’s house. It was in an exclusive neighborhood and the house was one of the nicest. As it turned out, her parents had split up and her mother had done well in the divorce. Her dad was back in England. He had taken up housekeeping with his “newer model.” Miranda owned the house with her mother, Serena.
Serena was quite attractive. She’d been a child bride and was the same age as Lila Vermillion. She was also bossy, and very straightforward. She wasn’t quite as tall as Miranda who at 5’ 10” was as tall as me. Miranda got her height from her European father.
“Well hello Evan. My, aren’t you a lovely boy? Miranda. You were correct about this one. He is very pretty! Yes, he’d be nice to have around this house,” she added, to Miranda’s chagrin.
“Mother, you are embarrassing Evan. In fact, you have me blushing mother,” Miranda said, as her mother just laughed it off.
I took Miranda, to just about the most romantic restaurant in the Atlanta area. Very upscale and right on the river. She loved it. She looked so elegant and glamourous too. Her outfit was a mixture of Eastern and Western clothing that emphasized her mother’s Indian heritage.
Her very dark-brown, if not off-black hair, was piled atop her head in an intricate upsweep, set off by turquoise jewels. She wore a matching turquoise choker, earrings, and bracelets. Her white, beaded, blouse billowed about her sexy frame. Her clingy, knee-length, colorfully patterned skirt, emphasized her shapely butt and legs.
Her only concessions to Western dress were her beaded clutch, and sexy, four inch, ankle strapped high heeled sandals. Her makeup, was complete and very bold, right down to her glowing rosy lips. I was quite proud to be on the arm of this lovely vision the entire evening.
After dinner, while taking a riverfront walk, she brashly suggested we return to her home. She wanted me to share her bed for the evening. “What about your mother, Miranda?” I asked.
“Goodness Evan. You can be such a sissy sometimes. She doesn’t bite. I am 25 years old Evan. We own the home jointly. I can have men sleep over if I desire so. And I really desire you, my love. Besides, she likes you. Remember? She thinks you are so pretty,” laughed Miranda.
So, when we arrived at her residence, we took a set of stairs in the rear. There was a private entrance to Miranda’s boudoir through a sliding glass doorway, at a landing, off the top of the stairway. “I am going to change Evan. Just take off all of your clothes and get in bed. That’s where I want to find you when I get back,” she smiled.
It was an evening, and then a morning, of beautiful passionate lovemaking. It was different than with Lila. With Lila, sex was raw, daring, and wild. Yes, there was some tenderness and passion, but still, it was about the lust.
With Miranda, the re-exploration of each other’s bodies, was as fulfilling as the climaxes. It was more gentle, and loving. I realized, that with Miranda I had someone I could love for a long time. We were lying next to each other, kissing and nuzzling after we both had a wonderful climax.
In the dim light, Miranda could see the outline of the deep love bite Lila had left on me. She turned on her bed-table lamp. “I see Lila left her fang mark on you. Or was it someone else?” Miranda asked.
Blushing, I admitted it was Lila. I didn’t know what else to say.
“Well. I don’t mind sharing you with her. Though, if we get serious, I will expect your undivided attentions. It’s up to you Evan. However, I can see myself with you for a long time,” she smiled.
At this time of my life I was still confused. I wasn’t certain of what direction I would take. I thought I knew what I wanted but still there was doubt. In the ensuing weeks, I would find, that the women and forces around me would make my path clearer to me.
My decision was already being planned and in the works. It was pretty much out of my hands. All I needed to do was let it play out and enjoy the outcome. The next move would be Lila’s not mine.
Chapter XVI: Cassandra Redux
My memory of the ensuing events is a tad foggy. So bear with me. For about three weeks after the wonderful date and lovemaking with Miranda, we saw a good bit of each other socially. We continued to have lovely date nights, and passionate lovemaking sessions.
At the office, Lila told me I should plan on a working weekend at her estate. “I still have the items I purchased for you in Beverly Hills, Evan. You don’t need to pack much in the way of clothing. By the way. I’m also having a catered, Ladies’ Club brunch, Saturday afternoon. I’d like you to help me with that. You could meet some of my friends and they could meet you,” Lila suggested.
It was news to me, that she had any sort of social life with a “Ladies’ Club.” What did I know though? So I agreed with the basic premise of assisting her. Possibly she wanted to show off her newest “Boy Toy”? I had come to grips with that. Though, I had to admit I enjoyed the attention.
My only unease was how things might come to a head where Miranda was concerned. I arrived at Lila’s estate moments after she did. I’d followed her in my car after work. We’d left work early for once. Early enough that her maid was just leaving for the weekend.
Her maid, Clarice, let us know she had cooked a roast with potatoes and carrots. It was wrapped and refrigerated, but could be cut and heated for dinner.
I was impressed with the size of Lila’s mansion and estate. Of course this had belonged to her great-grandfather. It was magnificent in both size and appearance. I was shown to my room by Lila. Conveniently enough, it was nearly the same setup as when we had traveled to Beverly Hills.
Our boudoirs and baths would be separated by a large, sitting/living room. As I entered her home, I noted the strains of an eerily sounding music. Mostly stringed instruments, with woodwinds and some drumming mixed in. I couldn’t place the genre, though.
At some junctures it would sound Celtic, then again, it might have been Egyptian? At other moments I’d think of it as Norse. Every once in a while a well -played electric guitar would pierce the heretofore far away resonances of the acoustic strains.
Lila’s house was deeply fragranced. I realized that it was a mixture of incenses and sachets. A blend of Honeysuckle, Sandalwood, and other aromatics such as Saffron and Cinnamon. The lighting had been partially dimmed and candles had been lit. Lila left me in my weekend boudoir and said she would return.
When she did return she was wearing no more than heeled slippers and a red velvet robe. “Undress Evan. I’m going to draw you a bath and bathe you. You really need to relax,” she said as she entered the bathroom that adjoined the boudoir. I heard her running the tub water as I disrobed.
She had mixed in plenty of fragrant bath salts and bubble bath. The incense and, candles and strange music were also going, in the bath. I dipped into the hot bubbles and slowly immersed in the fragrance.
Lila knelt by the tub side and started by soaking my hair with a loofah. After she soaked my chest, she shaved some stray hairs. Then she started shaving my legs. I gave her a questioning glance.
“You have lovely soft skin. I am putting you in a special outfit for serving, tomorrow at my ladies’ club luncheon. You’ll assist the caterers. Drinks mainly. The outfit comes with short-shorts. I need to clean up your legs dearest. Your body isn’t all that hairy anyway. I didn’t think you’d mind,” she explained.
Of course my body wasn’t hairy. Over two years of forced body waxing, depilatories, and electrolysis, tends to discourage the growth of any body hair. Before she trimmed my bush she lathered my penis into an engorged erection.
I was so close I wanted to explode. When she was finished, my bush was close to a heart shaped, girlish patch. She scrubbed me completely, finishing it all off with a scalp conditioning. Then she stood me up outside the tub and buffed me dry with a towel. She paid special attention to my erection.
She gave me a liberal rub down with flowery body lotion and dusted me with perfumed powder. “Come to my boudoir Evan. I want to prepare you for making love to me,” she cooed. In her boudoir she pointed to a pair of white lace trimmed panties, a red baby doll nightie, and a pair of black, three inch high heels. “Could you put these on please dear? I’m conducting a little experiment,” Lila said.
When I didn’t move, she took hold of me and sat me down. She lifted my legs and put the panties on me. She snugged them into place with the statement, “There now.” Then she continued by slipping the high heeled slippers onto my feet. They fit snugly. Then she dropped the nightie over my head, putting my arms thru the straps and letting it float down onto my torso.
“Everything fits, because Meaghan and I made sure we had your sizes at the Beverly Hills shop. Now if you would please, Miss Evelyn….. Walk pretty for me,” Lila added, calling me by Evelyn, for the first time.
I could have stumbled and acted as if I never wore heels, but not after she had put me in two inch heels on the business trip to California. But instead of acting like a novice and tripping around, I did a prim sashay up and back, the length of the room. I walked as expertly as a finishing school debutante at an alumnae soiree.
She watched carefully. Then Lila spoke. “Well, we obviously like our panties, or we wouldn’t have a tented boner. Which is okay with me, by the way. You should know that by now. However, we not only administer, lovely pedicures, we also mince like Jennifer Lawrence, on the red carpet, when we walk in our heels. What are you not telling me about your past Evelyn?”
“I don’t know what you mean Lila. You know I get erotic around you, especially when you play dress up games. What young boy hasn’t played around in his mother’s or sister’s heels?” I asked very clumsily.
“Yes. I know all that. But I’m trying to help you Evelyn. You don’t mind me calling you Evelyn, at all. Do you? Set at my vanity Evelyn. I’m going to do your hair, nails and cosmetics. And we are going to talk about whatever it is, that has been stuffed deep inside you. Sit here,” she said in a most surprisingly commanding way.
She had a set of hot rollers already plugged in. She started sectioning my hair. She rubbed some sculpting jell into my damp tresses and started to roll and pin it up onto the hot rollers. I’d begun pleading with her that I had kept no secrets from her. But my resolve was getting weak.
“Okay. If you won’t come clean, I will. I know the origin and symbolism of your pretty tattoo. You know. The one you claim you got for your non-existent girlfriend Cassandra? Yes. That tattoo Evelyn,” Lila laughed.
“I’ve known since the day, Miranda had a little too much to drink. We were at a company party I threw, here at the estate. She got a little giddy and told me about her college boyfriend’s tattoo on his butt. She thought it was so cute you’d do that for a girlfriend,” Lila said.
“The very same nice young man she helped get a job at Vermillion. I know what it signifies Evelyn because I’ve been a member of the Cassandra Sisterhood for over four years. The tattoo means, that for at least, some amount of time, likely not long ago, you were a Cassandra Sissy,” she added.
She could have slapped me in the face. I tensed up and wanted to run but I couldn’t move. She stopped rolling my hair, and gripped my shoulders. Then she took some massage oil and started to rub it in into my shoulders and neck. I relaxed.
“Don’t fear me Evelyn. You need to fear your secrets much more. I am far from a truly active member. I actually joined because of their premise of furthering the causes of women in the home, the workplace, in politics, education and business. I am no Mistress or Mater either,” she said as she continued to massage me.
“On occasion, I meet with some of the local ladies, and have what amounts to a business lunch and meetup. I have it catered. One or two of the women will bring a sissy, or a Lady’s Boy, and they’ll assist the caterers with serving drinks. I have a rule that there is no excessive role play. No spanking, no bondage, nothing I wouldn’t do publicly,” she added.
“Shows of affection, kissing, hugging, and petting are just fine. A loving atmosphere. The same way I have treated you whenever we played our little dress up games. Please tell me Evelyn. What happened between you and whomever feminized you? You need to get it out. It will be therapeutic,” Lila pleaded.
She was more than correct. I began to talk. I began to tell her about my two plus years under the control of my step-mother, Antonio and the Sisterhood. As she listened, she continued to roll up my hair. Then she calmly went to work on my nails. Lila listened. She never interrupted me. The only time she tensed, was when I spoke of my two years as Antonio’s lover. I knew why she was tensing up.
So I calmed her worst fears. “Lila. Before I would start dating again, in my sophomore year of college, I went to a private clinic and got tested for any form of STD. It all turned out negative. I even went a year later. Still negative,” I told her.
“Well Evelyn, I thank you for that piece of information. Do you want to continue?” Lila asked.
It took me ten to fifteen more minutes to tell her everything, I could recall, without going into minute detail. I didn’t need to. Venting the way I did, was, as she had said, therapeutic. By telling one other person, not involved, was as good as being in therapy for a year, it seemed.
My dam had burst. Before I was done confessing my hurtful past, I was sobbing like a jilted damsel. She hugged me to her. She held me. As she wiped my eyes she smiled. “I’m so glad I did your hair and nails first. You would have ruined your makeup,” she teased.
I felt cleansed. Lila finished my nails and began my makeup. There was something I had noted. I had dressed somewhat girlishly with her twice. Each time we had made love I didn’t feel bad about it. Not the way, when femininely dressed, I had felt bad after having sex with Ginny, Natasha, Anna, or Antonio.
I always seemed to feel dirty, inside, afterwards, when I’d been forcibly feminized. It was even ickier, when I screwed and sucked with Nicole’s girlfriend’s sissy nephew. Once Lila finished my makeup, she plucked the hot rollers from my blond tresses. Deftly using a comb and brush set, along with ample hair spray, she put my hair into a sleek, shiny, mildly wavy, up-do.
Then she took me by the hand and I stood up. She wrapped her arms around me and whispered in my ear. “Oh my pretty girl Evelyn. Anytime you want, you tell me what is troubling you. I’ll always care for you honey,” she whispered.
She led me to her bed and tucked me in. Then she walked to the opposite side and slid under the covers herself. I had removed my heels but was still in my panty and nighty.
We moved towards each other and embraced passionately. I’d never felt so sexy and glam. Never before had I been so beautifully feminized and willingly about to make love with any lover. And to be with such a loving female lover! I’d often attempted to justify not spurning Antonio’s advances. I had little choice though.
That was the past however. I was now ready to experience passionate but gentle, willing, lovemaking with an aggressive female suitor. Did I wish I had pert, ample breasts for her to suckle and tweak? Of course I did. But, I was ready to enjoy her ministrations, and relish her womanly attributes.
We fondled one another’s intimate organs gleefully. Then I moved to position myself and Lila, so my face was buried in her lovely pudenda. She tensed and then relaxed. “My love. Let me enjoy your lovely vulva with my mouth and lips. Please delight in what I am doing. Your pleasure is all I desire to fulfil my sweet,” I whispered in my very best, “Evelyn” voice.
If I was to be treated and thought of as a sexy female, than Evelyn, would be a perfectly charming name for me. I needed a break from my recent past, and these latest encounters with Lila were providing me that. Lila had done more for my cessation with the bygone than anything I had ever attempted.
As I delicately tongued Lila’s sensitive clitoris and basked in the perfumed bouquet of her splendid genitalia, my mind drifted to my marvelous Indian Goddess, Miranda. How would she react to the feminized Evelyn?
Today, I know, it was at this point, that I could not picture myself ever again turning from my feminine persona. I wanted to be loved by Miranda, as Evelyn, if she would have me as Evelyn.
Lila had become immersed in my efforts to kindle her clitoral stimuli. She was sighing and humming. Her vaginal muscles expanded and contracted. As she approached what I believed would be a climactic explosion, she gripped my head and ordered, “On your back Evelyn. I want to mount your cock, dearest.”
Instantly I complied with her wish. Lila was quite close. She smiled as she mounted my rigid, strong penis. She kiddingly raised both hands and arms over her head and snapped her fingers in a crazy, jiggly, mock dance. Then, with her lips pursed and her tongue partially sticking out she began to pump her pelvis up and down.
I did well to keep from spurting wildly into her pussy and I’m pleased for my efforts. She reached towards her clit and began to rub it, however she didn’t last long as she screeched loudly and burst open with a scream. She had a very wild climax, coming near to tears, and quaking.
“Oh my Evelyn! Oh, that almost hurt! Oh but it hurt so dammed good honey! Oh you pretty bitch you! You really screwed me beautiful, my baby!” Lila yelled.
She lay beside me and looked at me so blissfully. Shrugging her shoulders she said, “You know the rules. First one of us to climax gives their lover hot, oral sex. You are getting a nice blow job, girlfriend!” Lila smiled.
She went down on me and blew me, like I can’t ever recall being sucked or blown. Her lips, tongue, hands and technique were perfectly exquisite. She stared bewitchingly into my eyes as her creamy lips encircled my rock hard rod.
When I did begin to pump out my spurts of creamy, sperm fluid, she gulped it down, as if she were swallowing large globules of thick, sweet honey. I whimpered out my innermost emotions passionately.
Laying there in her protective arms, as she fussed with my stray, strands of heavily sprayed waves, I puckered my painted lips and kissed her. As our passions melted, we agreed to proceed to the kitchen and warm the sustenance the maid had left for us.
As I daintily and girlishly, nibbled the tasty fare, Lila carefully calculated me. “You ever so gracefully morph into character when you are turned out as a femme, Evelyn. Your voice takes on the kittenish timbre of a studious demoiselle. You imbibe daintily, taking in petite morsels so very delicately. Even when we left my boudoir you ever so prudently stepped into your high heels,” Lila remarked.
“Even the way you carry yourself, stand, sit and walk. You are so very charming. I really don’t see why, if we took it slowly, that you couldn’t one day, grace the offices of Vermillion, as Evelyn,” she touted.
She was serious. She had asked me, some very personal intimacies. Now it was my turn.
“Lila. I need to ask this. How much does our dear Miranda know?” I inquired.
“I never explained your tattoo to her until she became excited about you working for us. Prior to that I inquired of a Clinical Psychiatrist I know, that deals with abusive relationships. Coincidentally I know her from the Sisterhood. Like me, she is a member for business advancement,” Lila said, as she chose her words carefully.
“Forgive me. However, I believed that you had suffered both sexual and emotional abuse at the hands of Sisterhood members. I now know my conjectures were correct. I discussed it with Mavis Fabia, my psychiatrist friend. You’ll meet her Saturday. She’ll be here with her Lady’s Boy, Trudy,” Lila paused.
“She and Trudy have a sensitive, loving understanding. Trudy expressed a desire to be involved in a ‘female led’ relationship. Mavis has complied. In my discussions with Mavis she explained that abuse subjects are quite frequently capable of loving, sexual intimacies in short term interactions,” Lila expounded.
“It is when the relationships evolve into long term, more permanent affairs that serious intimacy problems result. After lengthy considerations with both Mavis and Miranda I took it upon myself to explore your inner self. It was the only way I could find to protect Miranda from a heartbreaking letdown,” she sighed.
“I meant you no harm, Evelyn. I dearly hope none was done you?” Lila questioned.
“No. None at all. Now we only need to find out if Miranda, can feel the same about Evelyn as she does about Evan. I’m prepared for either outcome. I only can hope, if she cannot love Evelyn, that I would still have a chance with you Lila?” I asked earnestly.
“I do not think it will come to that Evelyn. However, should it, then well, yes. I could get used to a pretty, female assistant, ornamenting my office. My opinion, admittedly not an expert judgement, is that the sooner Miranda meets you as Evelyn, the better,” Lila continued.
“Tomorrow after the ladies’ luncheon would be soon enough. I can invite her, to drop by at 4:30 PM. The luncheon is from 1 to 4. She will know in advance she is finally meeting Evelyn. Trust me. She is eager to experience this,” Lila concurred.
“She fell in love with your overdeveloped womanly side, Evelyn. She has plans for both of you. Let her lead you as you allowed me to lead you. She knows what she wants and where she is going. I believe you need someone like her as a life’s partner, just as she desires someone like you,” Lila illustrated.
“I’m in your hands Lila, as well as Miranda’s. I’m ready for wherever that will take me. Why don’t I get this dinner cleared away and we can enjoy a nice Chick Flick, together. Then we can snuggle away the hours until dawn.” I smiled.
“Sounds super Evelyn. I’m certainly approving of that. While you are at it, you can do my hair and nails for the luncheon, while we watch our movie,” Lila agreed.
Chapter XVII: She will be Re-leashed
The delightful tinkling of Lila’s central sound system had me stirring on Saturday morn. Lila had explained that the melodious string, woodwind and drumming reverberations she enjoyed playing was compositions specifically enjoyed and preferred by members of The Sisterhood.
She would be playing it throughout today. I glanced over at her. Unusually enough, she had slept in rollers. This was something she did not enjoy, and very rarely did. However, we had a limited time to prep for the ladies’ lunch, so I had set her hair during our movie, Friday night. After a breakfast that I prepared we retired to her boudoir to dress for the luncheon.
“The caterers will be here at 11:30 A.M. By the way, Evelyn. You have checked off all the boxes for making a perfect wife for Miranda. You cleaned the kitchen last night, and this morning. You perform excellent manicures and pedicures. Your hairdressing skills are more than adequate. You also made a lovely breakfast. You make love superbly. Now we will just have to see how well you waitress this luncheon?” Lila added.
I took care to assist Lila with dressing. She went with tight shorts and a halter top, with high heeled sandals. The luncheon would be around her pool. I combed her hair out and fixed her face. Then she laid out my outfit for the day.
I squeezed into a snug panty brief. Lila had apparently purchased some bras for me in Beverly Hills. She gave me one to put on then assisted me with the “A” cup inserts. A white blouse with high lace neckline and generously ruffled jabot, followed. I slipped into a black, straight, pencil skirt.
I carefully slipped on the three inch, black, suede pumps she handed me. I strode confidentially to her vanity and seated myself to start on my makeup. Lila had left the room momentarily and had just returned. She held a white, heart-shaped apron in one hand and a perky maid’s cap in the other.
As I filled in my puckered lips with a frosty, Pink Cashmere lip cream by L’Oréal, she presented me with the maid cap, shaped like a fan. “I want your hair up today. Something like it was last night before I screwed you and mussed it. This cap should perch at the crown of your bouffant and tie in the back,” she instructed.
“I wasn’t certain if I wanted you in a full, extra, fussy, ruffled apron or this brief, heart-shaped number. I think the full, ruffled confection would obstruct the view of your rump, in that sleek, pencil skirt though,” Lila explained.
My makeup and hair approved by Lila, she put both the apron and cap on me. She sent me to the drawing room to await the caterers. She stayed in her boudoir, explaining her need to, “Tie up some loose ends.”
Moments before the caterers arrived she gave me the “big” news. “Miranda didn’t want to arrive at the last moment after the luncheon was over. She and her mother, Serena intend to arrive at the estate at about 1:30 P.M. and will stay until after the event is over. You’ll be staying with them for the rest of the weekend,” Lila explained.
“Don’t worry about the serving if you and Miranda need some private time, Evelyn. Trudy and the catering staff can easily care for all of the guests’ needs. Besides. Let’s face it. You and Trudy are waitressing for effect. You’re eye candy honey. Fluff for the Cassandra ladies,” she ginned.
“It’s for the best Lila. I imagine Miranda and her mom, especially Miranda, need some time to soak in, and see Evelyn, for a little while. Before taking me home to really meet me as Evelyn. I get it. Who knows? Serena might be my future Mother-in-Law?” I added.
The caterers arrived and I showed them to the pool area. They were real pros and set things up beautifully. I did my best, to play the prim and proper servant. I got a kick out of the really young girls referring to me as Miss Evelyn. The first guests to arrive were Doctor Mavis Fabia, and her Lady’s Boy, Trudy.
Lila greeted the couple effusively. I hugged Trudy and extended my hand, with my wrist limped, and fingers spread, to Mavis. She received it and with a flourish, flattered me with a faux, European hand kiss. “I’m bewitched. Your undeniably exquisite, Evelyn,” she said.
Trudy was very cute. A blonde, but not quite as blond as me. He/she had short hair and pierced ears, with little pearl studs. I’d once had three piercings in each ear but they had grown over since my break off with Antonio.
Trudy wore really skin tight black short-shorts, ankle socks with two inch heel Mary Janes, as well as a cute, white tube top. Mavis asked Lila for a full ruffled apron and tied it tightly at her Lady Boy’s waist. Mavis Fabia was as very exotic as her name made her sound.
She looked fabulous with her chin length, dark red, almost burgundy tresses. She walked expertly in four inch heels. Her attire was as classic as it was expensive. A blended wool, Harris Tweed jacket, with matching knee-length skirt, over a white, beaded turtleneck.
Emblazoned, upon the beading, was a pendant necklace. The broach, attached to the sterling silver, necklace chain was a Black Rose, done in an Obsidian gemstone. As Mavis shooed away Trudy to assist the caterers, she motioned for me to approach her.
“I must ask Evelyn. Who colored your bouffant? It’s just delightful,” she charmed. I touched my tresses self-consciously, I blushed, and was nearly gushing. My inner female emotions were truly rushing uncontrollably to the surface.
“Well thank you Doctor Fabia. I’m so very flattered you noticed. The colorist, was Miss Alissa at Salon Meche’ in Beverly Hills!” I babbled away excitedly.
“Oh my. Salon Meche’ you say? Well, it does pay to have a generous benefactress like Lila, doesn’t it, now? I must ask you Evelyn. Do you go to the workplace in Femme garb? You could very easily pull it off you know? You must have been dressing for two or three years at this point. Am I not correct?” Mavis asked.
Before I could respond, Lila stepped in. “Mavis, though she does not dress as a young lady at the office we may be looking at her doing that in a month or two. It will be up to me, and her future supervisor, Ms. Miranda Paget. And of course Evelyn, herself, will be involved in the decision making. Evelyn, check with the caterer and then greet guests for me,” said Lila as she dismissed me.
I had just greeted Candace, a photographer for a local “Atlanta Live” publication when Miranda and her mother, Serena appeared in the entranceway. I absentmindedly held my hands together in front of me in an inadvertent nervous gesture, when Miranda strode confidently up to me.
“Look at you, my pretty Evelyn. I envisioned you looking beautiful. Never though, in my wildest imagination did I expect you to appear this dazzling, and elegant,” she said, embracing me, and giving me a prolonged buss on the cheek.
“I can’t wait to hold you in my arms this evening, darling,” she whispered in my ear, before breaking off the embrace. “Mother. Is she not a vision of loveliness?” Miranda asked.
“Yes. She will make a lovely wife for you too, my dearest child,” smiled Serena as she gave me a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. I escorted them to the buffet and took their drink order. I was kept busy for much of the rest of the luncheon, and had little time to speak to anyone for the remainder of the afternoon.
By ten minutes past four all of the guests had departed. Remaining were only Miranda, Serena, Lila and I. The catering company was busy cleaning and packing up. Lila was speaking with Serena and Miranda and motioned for me to join them.
“Evelyn, I was just explaining to Miranda and her mother, that I had Trudy place your luggage with all of your male clothing in your vehicle. All of the female apparel I had purchased for you is in Miranda’s Mercedes. Miranda will drive you over to her residence in your Toyota,” Lila clarified.
“Serena will drive the Mercedes. You’ll be staying with the Paget’s until Sunday evening. Well I need to settle with the caterers, and you ladies need to be getting on your way. Goodbye girls!” Lila said, as she gave us all a quick hug.
I was standing there smiling as Serena took a leash and collar from her purse. She affixed the red velvet collar around my neck and attached the leash, before she handed the end of the leash to a smiling Miranda. “Come along Evelyn. We have much to speak about,” Miranda elucidated.
“Miranda, what is the meaning of this? A leash and collar? Seriously? What for?” I asked.
“I will explain everything in the car dear,” Miranda stated as she led me away from Lila’s home, as I minced along, attached to the leash.
As we drove to her house, she extrapolated. “You will be living with mother and me as soon as you can move from your condo. I believe you told me you were on a monthly lease. As soon as possible you need to give the agency notice. Once you move in with us, I plan on proposing marriage to you, with you dressed as Evelyn,” she said.
“Ours will be a female led household, and you will be subject to the rules mother and I prescribe for you. You will be given a leave of absence from Vermillion. Within thirty days of my proposal we will be married in an official Cassandra Sisterhood ceremony. Incidentally, mother and I are now Provisional Members. Do you understand me so far Evelyn?” Miranda asked.
“Yes. I do and I am overwhelmed right now Miranda. Could you please slow this down?” I stated in exasperation.
“Just relax and listen further darling. We can give you a Valium at the house to calm your nerves, Princess. Once we are married you may return to Vermillion. You will be my assistant in Human Resources. By then, Louisa will be moving to Florida,” Miranda explained, still moving much too fast for me.
“In marriage you will officially and legally be, Evelyn Monique Paget. Yes, you will take my last name. I thought up Monique, as I wanted something French in your name for when we dress you as a maid. Your step-mother Nicole gave us some lovely Maid’s outfits when she sent your wardrobe over to the house,” she smiled.
“You spoke with Nicole? What! I can’t believe this? But why?” I begged to know.
“Calm down honey. Nicole is very happy for you. No one is going to harm you. Mother and I are now your loving protectors. Everything is in our hands from here on out. Plus you do have a choice. If any or all of what I just told you does not suit you, you are free to go my love,” she said as she pulled my car into her driveway.
“You will still have your job at Vermillion. You can still be Lila’s Boy Toy. I will still be your friend. I probably won’t be your lover though. Nothing much will change,” she added.
“Except, you won’t be my wife. Here are your car keys, Evelyn. I will be waiting patiently inside the house. Think about it my sweet love,” Miranda said as she handed me the keys to my car, and released me from the leash and collar.
I sat in the passenger seat of my car staring off into space, holding my car keys. I still had my high heels on. I was wearing my dress, blouse, apron and maid’s cap, carefully tied behind my platinum blond up-do. What the heck was I supposed to do, I ask you?
Chapter XVII: Ritual and Tradition
My lease was up, so I moved my things into Miranda’s. My condo had been fully furnished by the agency. All I really had to move was my male clothing. All of that was boxed. The boxes were first stored in a space above Miranda’s garage. Very likely they have been donated to charity by this writing.
The day I moved in, Miranda and her mom, Serena, spent over two hours turning me into Evelyn Monique. My body hair was removed. I was bathed, powdered and perfumed. I was placed into a tight waist cinch, a restrictive panty brief and a brassiere with B-cup inserts.
Before they dressed me in outerwear, they reopened one set of the piercings in my earlobes. Then my hose, mini-skirt, blouse and heels were handed to me. In this way, I could take part in my first ceremonial dressing as Evelyn, at the Paget home. The doorbell rang and Miranda returned with none other than, Nanette!
Yes, Nanette! My former hairdresser whom Antonio had worked for! I was speechless.
“Don’t fret Evelyn. It is Evelyn now? That will take a little getting used to. Antonio purchased my salon by the way. That huge reward he got from Cassandra for betraying you went a long way towards the down payment, I am sure. Men are bastards’ honey,” she frowned.
“I have a new place though. I call it ‘Nanette Too.’ I hear we’ll be seeing a good bit of each other right up to and including the wedding,” she announced.
“So today we are doing hair, face, a zip wax of your eyebrows, and a complete set of lengthy acrylic nails, with full polish. Let’s get started,” she said, as she began with my hair.
She gave me a light trim. Miranda and Mummy had gone downstairs to discuss the coming proposal and wedding I presumed. After the trim, Nanette used hot rollers and setting lotion to roll my hair. The she zip waxed and cleaned up my eyebrows.
“I love this hair color you have. Really girly isn’t it? So, today you are getting engaged? I’m happy for you Evelyn. Like I was saying, men are pricks. Stick with the ladies. This lady looks rich honey,” she laughed as she began applying my nails extenders.
It seemed to take forever, but Nanette finally completed my extensive makeover. Then she escorted me to the living room, all the while, humming, quite loudly, “Here comes the bride”.
She had given me a really, cute, curly, flip hair do, and really dramatic makeup. My candy apple red nail extensions added a full, half inch to my fingers. That is a lot, when you’ve had, “Boy” nails for over 4 years.
I stood in front of Serena and Miranda. I posed as prettily and happily as I could. I was so excited I thought I might hyperventilate. Miranda walked towards me and had me kneel. A Cassandra engagement ceremony, has the future wife on her knees.
“Evelyn Monique Durant, do you agree to marry me and take my last name in Matrimony?” Miranda asked.
“Yes I will, Miranda,” I said, limply extending my left hand with my fingers spread. Miranda slid the diamond engagement ring on my ring finger.
“You may rise, my future wife,” she added. Then she, her mother, and Nanette all hugged me. I actually felt like crying, but thought even that might be too girly for the moment. The wedding plans were pretty much kept secret from me, even up to the moment I strolled down the aisle.
I could see I would defer to Serena in the days leading up to the wedding. Amanda was so busy with her new position as head of Human Resources at Vermillion. I assisted Serena in keeping house, cleaning, cooking and serving the meals.
Three weeks prior to the wedding, Serena had me get into her car and drove me to a shop where she said I would be getting my Bridal wardrobe. It certainly didn’t look like any bridal salon I had ever encountered. As we entered I understood why.
It was indeed a Bridal Salon. It was an Indian Bridal salon! I was going to be married to Miranda, predominantly wearing the customary clothing suited for a traditional, submissive Indian bride!
I was taken to the dressing room and told to strip to my foundation garments as the ladies in the shop oohed and cooed, over my pretty underthings. They brought piles of bright, colorful fabrics and jeweled accessories, for my future Mother-in-Law to look over and choose for her daughter’s bride to be.
There was of course the wrap headdress I would wear, and the colorful shawl and wrap around skirt. The one concession to current trends, were the four inch heeled, strapped sandals with leather bindings, which would encase my legs from my ankles to my upper calves.
Then they brought out the jewelry that I’d be wearing. Bracelets for my wrists and ankles, along with multiple necklaces. Also, bright ornaments that would be woven into my tresses. Serena loved everything and grabbed my face and kissed me, happily.
“You will be so beautiful for my daughter!” Serena exclaimed. Then one of the ladies returned with a piercing needle to reopen the other two pairs of grown over holes in my earlobes. Serena looked over different hoops and pendants.
She held them up to my ears to see how they would look. She finally decided on the full wardrobe I would be wearing. Measurements were taken and my final fitting was scheduled. However, Serena was hardly finished turning me out for the wedding.
A week later I was in the waiting area of “Nanette Too” the new salon Nanette had opened. I was there for a touch up to my hair color, and a trim.
While she colored my hair Nanette told me, “Your future Mother-in-Law, just made another appointment for you for a week from today. You’ll be getting, a full body wave, along with a complete body wax.”
“Which, by the way, will include your bikini line, your eyebrows, and your butt crack. I’ll be doing your hair and face at your wedding too. Serena really takes good care of you. I get to see you get married Evelyn. Cool. I’m glad it’s this chick, Miranda and not that bastard Antonio. He was no good for you, honey,” Nanette commiserated.
The evening before the wedding, along with Serena and Miranda, I stayed at Lila’s family estate where the wedding would be held. There had been a custom instituted at the Paget home by Serena, when I had moved in. I was not allowed to sleep with Miranda. It was weird, as we had been lovers in college and again when I went to work at Vermillion.
I slept in a separate and very girlish boudoir, with my own bath, vanity, salon style hair dryer and closets dripping with sexy female fashions. Miranda and I had not been able to have sex since I had moved into their home, a month ago.
We were bursting at our sexual seams! I was sitting up in bed, in a guest room at Lila’s, reading and practicing my lines for the wedding ceremony. We had been through several practices, even a dress rehearsal, but I did not want to mess this up.
I had just taken a scented bubble bath, powdered my body and applied lotion everywhere. I’d covered my hands, legs, face, tummy, butt, genitalia, and torso, with skin lotion and crème. I then took time to set my hair on large plastic rollers. My tresses were now wavy and just off my shoulders.
Nannette had instructed me to use large plastic curlers. She was giving me a high fashion bouffant upsweep with a large top-knot. It was just the style to go with the divinely, decorated, beaded head-scarf that would adorn my locks, at the marriage ceremony.
The guest list for the wedding was impressive, if not that large. All of Lila’s Ladies Club would be coming. As would their sissy spouses and Lady’s boys. Nanette, Step-mother Nicole, and my former Governess, Virginia, would attend. A number of Nicole’s Sisterhood friend’s would be there including my former GYN, Giselle Bordeaux.
I wasn’t thrilled that Antonio would be there. However I was promised he could not kiss me or dance with me. Thankfully, my father and step-brother Brett were on an urgent business trip and could not attend. I’m uncertain how they would have reacted.
Some of the ladies from Vermilion would attend, but without male companionship. They had been warned that boyfriend’s and male spouses might be unnerved by the “Female Centered” nature of the ceremony. There would also be an official wedding photographer.
I had met her at the Cassandra Ladies Luncheon, held at Lila’s estate. She worked for a local magazine. She also freelanced. She had arranged for a reporter and a photographer from a Sisterhood magazine to attend.
The monthly Cassandra Sisterhood publication was “Aphrodite’s Swans.” It was named for the ancient Greek Goddess Aphrodite, who was the female ruler of love, beauty, pleasure and procreation. The symbols associated with Aphrodite, were Myrtles, Doves, Sparrows and of course, Roses and Swans.
It was very common in the Cassandra Sisterhood to honor the Goddesses of all the ancient cultures, with ceremony and song. The photographer and writer from “Aphrodite’s Swan” would be doing a story on Miranda, our wedding and then an interview which would break with a decade long tradition of strictly covering members of the Sisterhood.
Unlike me, Miranda was quite excited about the interview. Because two months from our wedding, I would be questioned by the reporter on what life was like being a bride of a Cassandra Sister.
I will print the contents of the interview during the 6th part of this story.* (See at end).
Doctor Fabia and Trudy would be guests also. Trudy had agreed to be my Demoiselle-in-Waiting. Naturally the ceremony would be a full-fledged Cassandra Sisterhood event, complete will all the mysticism, ritual, and tradition, which that would provide. It would be conducted by an esteemed Cassandra High Priestess.
I had just set down my wedding practice notes, when my door opened, and in walked Serena, my future Mother-in-Law. “I want to give you a pedicure, Evelyn. I want to be certain my daughter’s fair maiden bride is perfect for her on their wedding night,” Serena announced. I thought this so strange. But, as I had become accustomed to, with Miranda’s prodding, I again deferred to Serena.
“You will be wearing those strap sandals, also. Your toes should look special and be beautifully polished,” Serena added.
I presented my feet for her to scrub clean. They really weren’t dirty at all. Then she applied lotion, before she began to trim and paint my toenails, and groom the cuticles. After the polish had dried, she decided to give me a foot massage with scented patchouli oil.
She vigorously rubbed my feet with the aromatic oil. She then proceeded to work her way up to the calves of my legs. When she finally moved to my thighs, she asked, “Could you take off your panty? I want to see how well they waxed your bikini line and the crack of your butt, at Nannette’s salon.”
I didn’t know what to say. I hesitated and she took hold of my red, lacy panties and pulled them down. “Lift your legs girl. I need to slide these off and out of the way,” Serena commanded.
Serena had me turn over onto my stomach and she spread my butt cheeks. “Nice and clean. Very nice,” Serena commented. Then she turned me on my back. She slowly traced the waxing line of my carefully shaped, Platinum Blonde, heart-shaped, penis decoration.
“They did a very nice job Evelyn. What is this? Are you getting excited because Mummy Serena is touching you near your penis?” Serena asked as she took hold of the end of my swelling cock and rubbed it between her oiled fingers.
“Oh. Miss Serena. Oh, don’t! Please don’t touch me there? Oh my. What would Miranda think?” I asked gasping. But, I could see it was doing no good as she now had both hands on my dick.
“Miranda, you ask me? What would she think? Why don’t we ask her? Oh, you don’t want me to go get her? You want me to stay here with you and play games with your sex organ, don’t you? I don’t know what Miranda would say dear,” she smiled as she climbed atop the bed and lay next to me.
“You and Miranda haven’t had sex for close to a month. I think it is having a profound effect on the both of you. Especially you, you dirty girl,” Serena said as she kissed me on the lips.
“Now you lay there like a good girl. Mummy Serena is going to jerk you off. We don’t want you to mince into the wedding temple with a fat boner, and ruin the tummy line, of that lovely Fuchsia Saree I bought for you,” Serena scolded.
“Not a word to Miranda. Do you hear me girl? You say anything, and I will deny it and make it sound so much worse,” Serena threatened, moving her well-lubed right hand slowly up and down my cock.
It was exhilarating. When Mummy Serena had given the command, “No sex until the wedding!” I don’t know what Miranda had done for herself? I know I didn’t dare want to get caught with cum stains in my panties or on my sheets. So as difficult as it sounds I hadn’t even masturbated.
I don’t know what Serena would have done to me? But she could be so intimidating, I didn’t want to find out. She changed over to a one hand masturbation technique and used the other hand to play with my face. She also flicked at the few stray hairs poking out from under the head-scarf I had worn to bed.
I was smiling nervously, but the truth be told, I was blissful and nearing an immense climax, as the sperm fluid exited my penis, Serena took a satiny handkerchief and squeezed the end of my cock. The handkerchief was saturated as I collapsed and lay flat on my back.
Serena smiled. “You’ll sleep like a baby now, girl. I’ll wake you and help you with your foundation wear. Then we’ll dress you as much as we can, before your hair and makeup. After Nanette completes your beautification, we’ll complete your bridal wear and you will be married. Goodnight my angel,” she said and kissed me again.
I slept well until about dawn. The first thing I did that morning was transfer my diamond engagement ring to the ring finger of my right hand. Shortly after, my future Mother-in-Law, entered the room. She was accompanied by a smiling Lila.
They were bringing in my bridal apparel. It was all hung on a portable clothes rack. Lila, would be giving me away. I had asked Nicole to give me away, but she had said, Lila should be the one to do that. “Lila is the woman that brought you to this place in your journey. She should be the woman to give you to Miranda,” Nicole relented.
Trudy appeared at the door. Apparently, unbeknownst to me, Trudy and Dr. Fabia had spent the evening. I felt like a real princess having three people attending to my dressing. Plus my hairdresser was on the way.
The ladies from the Vermillion office and Lila’s personal hairdresser would be attending to Miranda later that morning. I had a light breakfast at a table in the boudoir. Now I held on, to the top of the door, so as Trudy and Serena could securely fasten my bright, red waist cinch.
Once Serena was satisfied that my waist was girlishly proportioned, she “tucked” my penis and I slipped into a matching red, snug panty brief. It had a fussy, ruffled seat. Next, a matching red brassiere with larger C-cup inserts. Serena wanted me looking bigger busted for my debut.
My underthings were all red, as the predominant color is my bridal wear was a brilliant fuchsia. I sat momentarily to let things settle. What with the tight cinch snugging my waistline and the panty brief and tuck, squeezing my genitals. I needed a break.
My champagne pink, four-inch heels, with the very same shaded, crisscross straps, came next. The straps ran all the way to the top of my calves. Trudy wore similar heels except those were a darker strawberry, and her straps were only ankle high.
Trudy’s hair, which now reached her chin, had been done in a merlot tint. She’d also gotten a curly perm. This was as feminine as I had ever seen Trudy look, and I told her as much. “Oh thank you Evelyn. I was so thrilled you asked me to be your Demoiselle. Ms. Mavis was so happy she bought me this new dress,” Trudy gushed.
It was a lovely dress. It was a Saree style, but shortened to mid-thigh. It was darker than my longer fuchsia colored Saree. It was done more in an orchid shade. My fuchsia saree was now lowered over my curler filled pate. It dropped to just above my knees to show off my footwear.
Lila tied it at my well defined waist with an attached sash. My crimson shawl was now draped over my shoulders from front to back, crisscrossed and tied with a bow in back. Nannette as usual, timed things perfectly. She arrived and motioned to Trudy, whose hair she now did.
“Remove Evelyn’s rollers for me. I’ll start on her face honey,” Nannette said as she got down to business. Nannette was second to none and a true magician with cosmetics. She blended, plum lipstick, magenta blush, and violet eye shadow, with lilac foundation and lavender face powder.
She then used a caramel eyebrow pencil to perfectly accent my curvy brows. It was as if my face was a Picasso canvas! Then to complete her magic, she started on my tresses. By this time Serena went off to be at Miranda’s side.
This left me, Nannette, Lila and Trudy, in my boudoir. All that was left was for my hair to be done, my jewelry attached, and my head scarf to be put in place. Then there would be the Cassandra niceties of a collar, leash and wrist cuffs added to my wardrobe.
Nannette, ever the perfectionist, appraised my large curls, left from the removed rollers, scrutinized my jewelry and headpiece and decided, “We need to get her earrings, necklace, anklets, and bracelets, on her, Trudy. Then I can go on from there, with her hair, scarf and tress brooch.”
My earrings came first. Three sets of piercing studs were removed from my lobes. In the set of holes at the front of my lobes went Amethyst studs. Turquoise pendants went in the rear piercings. Finally two-inch diameter Gypsy hoops went in the middle set of openings.
An Amethyst (my birthstone) jeweled, necklace given me by Lila went around my neck. A set of four charm bracelets and anklets were snapped onto my wrists and ankles. Nannette stood back to look and appeared satisfied. She picked up a teasing comb and a can of hairspray and weighed in on my waved, blond, platinum tinted, locks.
She teased, sprayed, brushed and combed until, again, like magic, a tonsorial masterpiece was born. She had given me this perfectly swirling, bouffant twist, with a delightful top knot and fluffy bangs, ala Liz Hurley. I could not believe it.
I had never felt more beautiful and feminine in my life. “I love it Nannette,” I said.
“I do too doll. Don’t dare move,” she smiled. She took the wine colored scarf and gently placed it at the peak of my pert top-knot. She let it feather my face slightly. Then she took the ends of the head covering and gently pinned them to my shawl, near the top of my faux bosom, using emerald stick-pins. Smiling she said, “Please stand and face me, Miss Evelyn. Thank you.”
I was mesmerized as Nannette picked up an emerald brooch and clipped it to my hair, at the base of my bouffant, just above where the upsweep met my bangs. She turned me towards a full length mirror and said, “You’re all set to be a bride honey. Ladies, take care of our girl. I need to get a seat in the Temple.”
Lila took over from there and led Trudy and me to a set of double doors on the first floor of her home. Behind the doors was a large room that had once been a banquet hall. Today it would serve as a wedding “Temple”.
I write “Temple” as that is what the venue for a Cassandra wedding is called. In fact, at dawn of that day, The Cassandra High Priestess, (also a Justice of the Peace) who was conducting the ceremony, had arrived to “dedicate” the former dining hall as a Temple.
Lila proceeded to produce a red velvet choker collar and attached it around my throat. She made certain it wasn’t too tight. Then she took a small light chain, and ran it thru my charm bracelets, effectively fastening my wrists together in front of me.
She made a quick call on her cell phone and the doorway to the Temple opened and Doctor Fabia appeared. “Five minutes Lila. I’ll tell them to start the music. You three enter, when the drumming begins,” Dr. Fabia stated as she walk into the wedding room.
Lila handed me a small bouquet of pink carnations to obscure my wrist bindings and then attached a red velvet leash to my choker. I was getting slightly alarmed, but really, I had been through much worse with the Cassandra Sisterhood.
Just before the sensuous strains of the Celtic ballads would begin, Lila announced, “Girls, when the drumming comes in, we will enter the Temple. Evelyn you follow me, on the leash. Stay to my right, with a small amount of slack in the leash. One tug means walk, two tugs signifies to stop. Trudy, stay to Evelyn’s right, one stride behind,” she explained.
“Evelyn, your eyes should not stray from the level it takes to see directly in front of you. Trudy, your eyes stay on Evelyn. We’ve all practiced this enough. We’ll all be fine girls,” Lila intoned.
The Celtic strains began, then the drums came in. I immediately got in stride, mincing daintily down the aisle behind Lila. I looked at no one. I didn’t dare let my eyes stray. I could see us approaching the altar and saw the spot where we would stop. Lila stopped perfectly on time. Two tugs on the leash and I stopped and waited.
The drumming faded out. The High Priestess spoke; “Esteemed Sisters and honored guests, welcome. We are gathered here to witness the transfer of ownership, of the concubine, Evelyn Monique, to our newest Sister, Miranda. Sister Lila, who did you bring with you to this ceremony?”
“I have with me the concubine Evelyn Monique, High Priestess,” Lila answered.
“Have her kneel and bow her head,” the Priestess said.
I knew what to do but waited for the “tug” at the end of the leash. I took two mincing steps forward and gently knelt down with the assistance of Lila. I was kneeling on what once must have been a church communion kneeler. It even had a place to rest one’s hands if one was praying.
I rested my hands there, tightly holding my bouquet of pink carnations. I bowed my head as I’d been told. I awaited the next portion of the ceremony. Even though my wrists were effectively shackled, and I was being led about by a leash, I felt fortunate. At least I wasn’t wearing a ball gag, nor was my mouth taped shut.
The Priestess asked, “Do you, Sister Miranda Paget, agree to take ownership of the concubine, Evelyn Monique, by her being bound to you in matrimony? Will you agree to have Evelyn, keep her, protect her and teach her, as your lawfully wedded, courtesan and wife?”
“Yes High Priestess, I do,” Miranda stated.
Then the Priestess asked me, “Do you Evelyn Monique, vow to love, honor, obey, adore and submit to, Miranda, as your Owner, Husband and Mistress, for as long as she will have you?”
“Yes I do, High Priestess,” I replied.
“Then the supplicant shall be prepared for paddling. The Demoiselle should raise the hem of the courtesan’s dress and expose her derriere. Who has the paddle to be used on this girl?” The Priestess asked.
“I do Priestess. I am Sister Nicole, her stepmother,” Nicole replied.
“Sister Nicole. Give the paddle to Sister Miranda. Sister Miranda, give your future bride three strokes with the appropriate oral pronouncements,” ordered the Priestess.
I had felt Trudy lifting my dress. I heard the snickers and gay peals of laughter as my ruffled Rhumba panties were exposed for viewing. I closed my eyes as I heard the drilled paddle head “whoosh” through the air. Whap!
“Hail Aphrodite!” Wham! “Hail Cassandra!” Bam! “Hail the Sisterhood!”
There was no padding at all in my panty brief. Miranda had struck me like she wanted to impress her new found Sisters. My ass was sore! There was a lot of clapping, whistling and cheering. I’m sure some was for Miranda’s success and the rest for the Sisterhood.
When the bedlam quieted down, the Priestess spoke once again; “Sister Serena will take the paddle for safekeeping. The Mother-in-Law is always the best disciplinarian for a recalcitrant wife. It is time for the ring. Remove the Courtesan Evelyn’s leash. Give it to Sister Serena,” the priestess instructed.
“Courtesan Evelyn Monique, you may ascend to the altar and face your future Husband. You make look into her eyes,” the Priestess added.
My dress was back in place after the paddling. As daintily and primly as I could, after kneeling and in four-inch heels, with my hands bound in front of me, I stood. I minced to the front of the altar and wiggled to the top step and faced Miranda. She looked utterly fantastic! Her off black hair shone in the incandescent light. It had been heavily jelled, brushed and woven into a French braid.
She wore cream, three-inch heels, and a matching, “Ladies who Lunch” cream suit skirt over a black chemise. Her stunning Rich Rosewood lip color set off her beautiful, Pearl White smile. Though mesmerized I heard the Priestess say, “I will remove Evelyn’s chain, linking her wrists.”
I was so relieved I blurted out, “Oh thank you so much High Priestess!”
Miranda was already wearing the rings I had purchased for her. In the Cassandra ceremony, only the bride is ringed.
“You may place the ring on Evelyn Monique, Sister Miranda,” the Priestess said. I was giddy! I held my bouquet in one hand and demurely but willingly presented my dainty left hand to Miranda. My wrist was so limp, my polished fingers spread.
When she slipped the band on my finger I nearly swooned!
“With the powers vested in me by the State of Georgia and the Cassandra Sisterhood I pronounce you Husband and Wife. Miranda, you may kiss your wife,” announced the Priestess.
Miranda reached out for me and I melted into her strong arms. As she kissed me fully on my painted mouth I could have fainted. And I really didn’t want to come up for air either.
End of Part Five
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Upcoming in Part Six of Subjugated Step Sissy; 1) The reception 2) The Honeymoon 3) Evelyn at the office as Miranda’s assistant. And 4) *a special interview of Evelyn by a writer from “Aphrodite’s Swans. The monthly magazine of the Cassandra Sisterhood.
I also want to thank, the editor of this great blog, Annabelle, for all the hard work she does, updating this blog. If not for her support and her artwork to supplement the stories, I might have stopped writing in this genre a few years ago. With love Annabelle! Priscilla.
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Thank you for reading so carefully Ryan. I believe Evelyn wanted Nicole and Nannette there as she wanted her family and hairdresser to see how happy she was with Miranda. Thank you for your insight.
ReplyDeleteThank you Ryan!
ReplyDeleteI am so very glad you enjoyed it Ryan! I hope to write more soon.
ReplyDeleteI so love that Rhonda/Evan has finally accepted her fate. She is so lucky. The adventures ahead of her will be delightful I am sure. Thanks so much for your work Priscilla. Your talent and sensitivity are amazing. My dream is to be a character in one of your works who is a willing victim of the sissyhood. Perhaps used as a model for an unwilling participant who gets to see what is in store for him step by step.
ReplyDeleteI adore your work so much.
Kisses and love
Harriet
Thank you Harriet! Your comments are always appreciated. Oh. Nice fantasy you just brought up! A model?
DeleteYes Priscilla a model. It would be so powerful for the victim to watch each step that is about to happen to him. I would love to volunteer as the model.
ReplyDeleteKisses
Harriet
Yes. The idea is giving me a chilling, almost heady feeling, at this moment. The unwilling participant, is bound and gagged. "She" is very alarmed at the sight of you being transformed and emasculated, step by step, in front of "her" very eyes. "She" tries to scream in panic, but to no avail. The ball gag won't permit that. I will keep this in mind. Thank you, Harriet.
DeleteNot that I have anywhere near your skills or vision but it would be such an honor to help you anyway you see fit. I am a gay sissy in progress, always struggling to be more open and feminine while maintaining other responsibilities. My e mail is harrietqueene@gmail.com. Also on goggle hangouts and Flickr
ReplyDelete