Submission Saturday: Sissy Toy & Her Daddy (8/15/26)

Source: Sissy Since Forever

(After being kidnapped from home, feminized and auctioned to the highest bidder in a secret auction house)

"I never wanted to dress as a girl. I never wanted to wear makeup or hair ribbons or a collar." 

"I never wanted my cock locked in a chastity cage."

"And I definitely never wanted a man to fuck me."

"But 'Daddy' wanted all of that. He wanted my unquestioning submission. And he wanted to show me that this was my proper place. Kneeling. Submitting. Obeying."

(One Week Later After....)

"Now I want all of this. And I want Daddy. And I want him to fuck me... again. And again."

 

Submission Saturday: Ballet Program for Troubled Young Men (8/8/26)

"Very good, you are a natural."

Matthew's mom enrolled him in ballet classes after constantly getting in trouble in school. The final straw came after an incident at school with his E Bike. Facing expulsion, the school recommended a program through the Silkwood S. Academy. The program was in the nearby community of Stepford Falls, but it had a guarantee rate that helps at risk boys curve their behavior through the art of ballet. Everything was provided for including the pink leotard uniform and the thin soft pink panties by the generous Winthrop Foundation. 

"That's right, you are doing very good, bend all the way down, just like that. This helps strengthen certain parts and prepare you for future positions."

The female staff is highly trained and very supportive with years experience of helping troubled young men become more sensitive and submissive to their mother's guidance as well as cultivate and promote the boys inner dormant feminity qualities. 

Submission Saturday 8/1/26

Submission Saturday: Just Submit

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Submission Saturday: You are the Wife (FEM Magazine)

 

A magazine that Priscilla sent me, I think it lends itself well to Submission Saturday. It has the hallmarks of what being a transformed submissive 'male-wife' is: being shown off by your 'Lady Husband' to her peers at the company party (she is after all the bread winner and the head of the household) and you are the demure trophy-wife in a tight dress wearing lacy panties underneath. Everyone knows who is the real 'head' of the household. All you can do is look down, look pretty and accept your place in this life.

Submission Saturday: So Controlled

The prolific Throne who some of you may not know (from here and Fictionmania), writes some of the best femdom and feminization stories with an emphasis on emasculation. He recently wrote the short story, So Controlled for Fictionmania. Based on one of Priscilla's Photo Captions from this week:

Joseph finds his body responding and obeying everything his wife Berta tells him to do. She makes him over into a pretty little slut of a woman. Unable to do anything, but obey and submits to her as he becomes a passive viewer trapped in his own body. 

Sample: 

I couldn't argue with her assessment of me.  After months of conditioning, I had been turned into a mincing, limp-wristed sissy.  The hair on my body was gone, victim to electrolysis.  I had on a long black wig, the tresses of which fell in waves to my bare shoulders.  What I wore was a body shaper in the same color, which narrowed my waist and lifted my buttocks.  Below that were smoky stockings with elastic tops. The shameful outfit was completed by low pumps, shiny ones that were as dark as everything else.   I tried to raise my hands in a gesture ofdefiance.  Instead, all I was able to do was clap my palms to the sides of my face and open my mouth in an 'O'.

"You look so funny like that."  Berta is a pretty blond, with the face of
an angel and the figure of a swimsuit model.    She had on a sports bra
and skimpy panties.  "Let's improve your image with some cosmetics."

"What did you do to me?" I wanted to know.  "To my mind?"

"Is it really important how I achieved my goals?  What matters, as far as
I'm concerned, is the results."

She told me to sit on the side of the bed.  There were make-up items on
her dresser, which she used one by one.  I was helpless to resist as she
applied eye shadow, liner, mascara, blush and lipstick.

"Please," I repeated.

"Silly sissy," she told me.

Will 'Josie' be able to break free from his control and resist the slutty makeover his wife is giving him? What does she have in mind for him once her lover shows up? Or will he submit and stay So Controlled?

Submission Saturday

 

 Priscilla sent it to me for the captions collections, but since we had no "Priscilla's Captions Pick of the Week." This one fits for Submission Saturday

Submission Saturday: "Her Special Wedding Gift"

 

Source: Rahasyanvesini

By ZeroReisen 

Oh, darling! You're simply adorable!

Did you want to be the man of the couple? Did you want to make me feel "who's in charge"?

How could I pass up this opportunity? I've manipulated you so well! And now, I can finally make my dream come true: shattering your ego into such small pieces that you'll beg me to be your naughty, (*..hmm*) dominant, (*..hmm!!*) mistress!

Come on, darling, don't hold back, let me hear your moans of pleasure! Should I push deeper?

So, good, accept my dominance over you, surrender to my womanly power and relax..

See? You're already enjoying it, I love it when your sobs of humiliation mix with the shy squeals of your submission!

Oh, feel how soft you are now. I can play with you however I want. You're such a sweetheart! Come on, beg to be fucked good, I know you want it, honey..

Submission Saturday: Wedding Night (4/18/26)

Good morning Divas, Betas, classy ladies, sexy bitches and everyone in between. Recently I have been struggling to distinguish the difference between 'Submission Saturday' and 'Surrender Sunday'. 

I found this comic that clearly helps illustrate 'Submission': the male is properly restrained and vulnerable unable to resist or escape while a procedure or ceremony is being performed on him, however he has not admitted defeat, complied willingly or accepted his place. I hope this helps everyone. Do you have thoughts on this? 

Source: No Limits Art

Short Story: The Phenomena of Dolly Maids

By Lea Rose

A look into antiquity in how women from upper class during 19th century feminized young males into becoming their "Dolly Maids'

    Besides housemaids for the common rooms, a chambermaid for her quarters, and a ladies’ maid to see to matters of dress, an upper class woman would sometimes have a ‘Dolly-Maid’.  Unlike other members of her staff of working class women, a lady’s dolly-maid would typically have been a Young man of formerly aristocratic stock. Deemed too sensitive or weak (and therefore at risk of embarrassing their wealthy families), these young men were forced into the service of other ladies in upper class circles, where it was expected that they rescind their masculinity completely in order to live out their lives in feminized domestic service. 

    Out of respect for their class, however, they were relieved of the harder work of cleaning, laundry, or cooking. A Dolly-Maid was instead expected to perform minor duties, like pouring tea, carrying the lady’s purse or hat, when shopping, or smoothing her skirts when she sat. On account of this endless proximity to the lady of the house, and the lack of heavy labour, the Dolly Maid almost always appears in the photographic record in formal uniform, distinguishing them from the other working women of the house. A uniform would include a long black woolen or cotton dress, a delicate white apron of broderie anglaise, and a high starched collar and cuffs. Lace caps, ribbons, and brooches were also considered daily wear. 

    The Dolly Maid’s underwear was perhaps more similar to the lady they served than other members of domestic staff. They were expected always to wear multiple lace petticoats, silk stockings, and, as was fashionable in the formal wear of aristocratic ladies at the time, a tight-lacing corset in the French style. Besides cementing their new position, such rigidity in dress ensured they learned to move and behave in ways more appropriate to women, a far cry from the freer movement the dolly would have been accustomed to as a formerly privileged young man. A housekeeper of Northridge House, West Sussex, described in 1886 her role in the daily dressing of the ‘Dolly’: 

“We certainly had our fun with Mistress’s Dolly, the poor effeminate little thing. We dressed the Sissy up in silks and lace, and Anne [the ladies’ maid] always had a the pleasure of tightening the corset. We were  all jealous of the Prissy things Mistress had him, so we were certain to tease thew Pansy. And Mistress kept him perfectly chaste all time I was there. So we ladies had nothing to fear about it. You would not even have guessed he ever used to be son of some Lord or such when we were all done with the Little Priss. And the poor Princess had to stay in that corset and ‘Her’ silks and frilly things all day long. The Little Fairy  would spend all his time around the ladies all Prettied up morning until the night. I’d have been so terribly bored if it was me, but he was such a quiet thing and followed Lady Booth around the house in that stuffy little uniform as a Little Puppy Dog would.”

    Indeed, from such written accounts of the lives of Dolly-Maids in 19th Century England, what becomes clear is their unusual and often awkward class position. They did not share the labour of the other working women, and their feminine and elaborate dress was sometimes envied, as was their constant proximity to the lady of the house. Yet, whatever background they’d had, they were understood to have ceased to be members of the upper class. Whatever education in Latin or Greek, their ability to ride or play a musical instrument, these aspects of aristocratic life were no longer to be accessible, and they would instead be forced to watch other aristocratic ladies enjoy such pursuits instead, from the vantage of the serving domestic worker. Such loss of status was perhaps most visible in the ways Dolly-Maids were expected to greet or address other ladies. Indeed, the Dolly-Maid’s curtsey was a source of much humor for other working women, who, if they envied the delicate fabrics they wore, certainly did not envy the practice required by Dolly-Maids to perfect the astonishingly numerous types of curtsey. These curtsies varied depending on the age, social class, married status of the women, or whether the lady being greeted had children. A Mrs. Elizabeth D’Aubigny, writing in 1890, remarked somewhat sourly that “the Dolly took up her skirts, put one foot behind her, lowered her head, and bobbed as if I were some grande dame ten years my elder! I told her Mistress, who had the poor thing practice the more appropriate form of Curtsey throughout the dinner, to the delight of everyone present, including the serving maids

   Their permanent role as a ladies’ domestic servant, and their unrelenting proximity to other women, meant matters of propriety were of upmost importance for dolly-maids. Mrs. Paddock’s “Handbook for all Dolly-Maids: An introduction to the work of looking after Lady, to ladies’ dress, and to the rightful function of the Dolly-Maid in the lady’s household” introduces the ‘virtues’ expected of those now undertaking the role. “Modesty is God’s Gift to ladies and now it shall be yours,” she explains, “and Chastity is its greatest fulfillment.” Although the existence of female chastity belts during the medieval period is now rightly doubted, there are plentiful sources describing the use and function of similar devices for Dolly-Maids during this period. The same housekeeper from Northridge House, referenced above, describes fitting a chastity device and ensuring it was not able to be removed. “Mistress wanted him properly Caged, so she said, underneath his petticoats, which we were happy to do. So we laid the sobbing Sissy Boi down on his bed and he only had a little thing, and it fitted round his Sissy-Clit and we locked it up properly. and he was making such a fuss but we said ‘“You need to be Caged if you’re going to be around ladies and Mrs. Booth.” And it will feel nice if you’re in silk petticoats.” This was, without a doubt, a humiliating measure, and certainly a source of frustration for young men subjected to it. But it was widely understood to be a foundational measure for the Dolly-Maid’s ability to accept their new role, and a physical reminder of the impossibility of return to an imagined, idealized freedom of boyhood.

  More crudely, it was a symbol of submission to a broader feminine order, as keys to the device were customarily given to visiting ladies as a gesture of goodwill. A Lady Foster-Shaw, writing in 1883, describes how she was given a Dolly-Maid’s chastity keys during a stay at her sister’s country house; 

“And I put them round my neck and, as it was evening, I requested the Dolly to come to my rooms, where “She” curtsied and looked at me with the greatest expectation. Of course I believe that a chaste and proper Dolly-Maid is a great gift, and had no intention of upsetting that. It is denial in the face of passions and desires that creates the prissy, prim, and proper Dolly-Maid, and so I bade the Dolly to undress me, to see me in my lingerie, my slip and petticoats, which to any other young man would have been a source of much excitement, I’m sure. But for a Dolly-Maid an opportunity to prove their permanent disavowal of such base pleasures. I had dolly remove even those last vestments, and with my God-given flesh on show, requested that I be bathed, powdered, perfumed brushed and painted, until I was satisfied. I fear the poor Dolly had never in his life himself been so close to a woman in full immodesty, but he lifted his skirt and petticoats to prove to me he was chaste. Somewhat cruelly, I had taken off the necklace with the key during my undressing, which I’d hung round his neck. He flushed a ferocious red, which was ever more apparent given the white starched collar of his dress and the little lace cap my sister had him wear. Afterwards, I told him how important it was that he continue to give himself helplessly and hopelessly to the service of ladies, and to undergo such denial of his natural desires. That whatever dreams and desires he might have had as a young man of good family, that the everyday work of serving my sister would remain his calling now, and for the remainder of the life.”

    For most, such standards of chastity were robustly policed and rigorously maintained. Working class women, who had much more sexual experience, who were often in relationships or who were mothers themselves, saw such measures with an ironic eye, either simply teasing the house dolly-maid, or seeing in it another eccentricity of upper-class social mores. Nicknames like ‘miss lily-white’ or ‘little miss prim’ were a common taunt, in reference to the enforced purity and femininity of the dolly. For the lady of the house however, reminders of her dolly-maid’s former masculinity were avoided, if not outright forbidden.”

    Extract from ‘Leisure and Labour: Women and Class in 19th Century England’ by Eleanor Combes and Rachel Whitely

Madame Irina Huffington, with her modern day, Surgically Neutered, Dolly Maid, Fifi. Fifi’s Testes now dangle from her earlobes in the form of Pink Pearl Fobs. 

    The Dolly Maid Phenomena is being kept alive Worldwide, by the Ladies of the Cassandra Sisterhood and the Cassandra Coterie.

Surrender Sunday: The Feminized Husband Blog

Is it gay to express like this?

On Sundays I usually have an image that exemplifies Surrendering, but instead of an image I thought it best share a recent post that exemplifies surrendering masculinity and embracing femininity from Kirsten G a Female Led Relationship blogger. 

Kirsten writes in a way that makes me jealous for a number of reasons: she writes beautifully and she is living the lifestyle of a feminized male partner to his wife and boyfriend. Recently she wrote a post that addresses the complex and and touchy subject of homosexuality and feminization. I encourage everyone to follow her and share your thoughts on this as I encourage healthy dialogue.

(Written by Kirsten G: The Feminized Husband Blog on June 29, 2025)

Is It Gay to Live as a Feminized Husband? 

We live in a world where labels often serve as both maps and walls. They help us find each other, understand each other, and build communities — but they can also confine us, misrepresent us, and divide us. This is especially true when it comes to gender, sexuality, and relationships — the most intimate and tender domains of our lives.

The question, "Is it gay to live as a feminized husband?" is not just about semantics. It’s about identity. About freedom. About how we understand love, gender roles, and personal authenticity in a culture that is only beginning to expand its definitions of what these things mean.

As someone who lives fully — joyfully, proudly — as a feminized husband to my wife, I feel compelled to speak directly from my experience. Because the answer is simple, and at the same time, deeply complex.

The Feminine Spirit Within the Male Form

Let’s begin with the heart of it: femininity is not the same thing as homosexuality. Femininity is not a sexual orientation. It’s an essence, a mode of being, an inner truth that can reside in anyone — regardless of gender identity or the bodies we were born into.

For me, femininity is not a costume I wear to spice up my relationship, nor a performance for public or private entertainment. It is who I am. Deeply, spiritually, emotionally. My gestures, my voice, my desires, my way of receiving love, my way of giving it — all arise from the feminine spirit that lives at the center of my being.

Living as a feminized husband, then, is not a contradiction. It is a fulfillment. A coming together of my internal truth and my chosen relational role. I am my wife’s husband — devoted, strong in my loyalty, responsible, constant — and I am her feminine partner, her soft mirror, her receptive lover. We are not a contradiction; we are a harmony.

Love and Desire: Fluid, Not Fixed

Many people, when faced with relationships that fall outside heteronormative templates, ask questions like: "Does that make you gay?" "Bisexual?" "Something else?" These questions are not always malicious. Often they are simply attempts to fit new realities into familiar boxes.

But sexuality is not a filing cabinet.

Sexuality, like gender, like love, like spirit, flows. It’s more like water — it finds its path, shaped by the contours of who we are, by the people we meet, and by how we are received.

In our triadic relationship — between me, my wife, and our boyfriend — I do not experience my attraction to him as a "gay" desire. Not because I am in denial, but because I know what I feel and how I feel it. I love him, yes. I desire him, yes. But I love and desire him as a woman loves a man — through the lens of my feminine spirit.

When he touches me, kisses me, makes love to me — I am not a man being loved by another man. I am a woman in spirit, being adored by her man. The electricity between us is not homoerotic. It is heterofeminine, if such a term could exist. It is gendered not by the bodies we inhabit, but by the energies we carry and the ways we connect.

That is why, in this love, I feel very straight. It’s not a contradiction — it is a testimony to the inadequacy of labels.

On Being a Feminized Husband

To some, the term "feminized husband" may sound like a novelty, a kink, or a submission fantasy. And while there are certainly spaces where femininity in men is sexualized or fetishized, that is not what I live.

For me, being a feminized husband is not a submissive role. It is a sacred, elevated one.

It is an expression of partnership, not power imbalance. My wife does not dominate me — she honors me. She honors the fullness of who I am, including the parts of me that many men are taught to hide: softness, emotionality, intuition, receptivity. And I honor her equally — not as a master, but as a queen. As the strong, masculine force in our union. She is my protector, and I am her sanctuary.

When she touches me, penetrates me, holds me in her strength, I do not feel humiliated or emasculated. I feel seen. I feel honored. I feel loved as a husband should be loved — deeply, intimately, and in a way that aligns with his truest self.

When the Spirit Leads, Gender Follows

So often, society tells us that our bodies dictate who we are and who we may love. If you are born male, you must be masculine. If you are masculine, you must desire femininity. If you deviate from this order, you are transgressive, queer, gay.

But I believe something different. I believe that spirit comes first.

The body is a container — a beautiful, mysterious one — but it is the spirit that gives the body its meaning.

My spirit is feminine. It always has been. As a child, before I understood gender roles or sexual politics, I moved through the world with a softness, an openness, a relational depth that felt more aligned with traditional femininity than masculinity.

But I was never confused. I was never "in the wrong body." I was simply born with a body that did not always match my internal currents. And rather than reject it, I chose to integrate. To allow my feminine spirit to flow through my male form, as a husband, a lover, a partner, and a beloved.

Beyond Labels: Living Truthfully

So, is it gay to live as a feminized husband? Only if you define "gay" in the narrowest, most body-based terms.

If you define gayness as a man being sexually or romantically attracted to another man, and you see both of those men as fixedly masculine — then perhaps. But that is not my experience.

In my reality, my love for our boyfriend is filtered through the lens of my womanly heart. I do not desire him from a masculine position, but from a feminine one. And my love for my wife is equally powerful — I relate to her as her husband, not in spite of my femininity, but because of it.

To me, this is not confusion. This is clarity.

Clarity that love does not conform to binaries. Clarity that desire is not dictated by gender performance. Clarity that the soul knows what it wants, and it will find a way to express itself, even when the world lacks the vocabulary to understand it.

The Courage to Be Whole

Living as a feminized husband requires courage. It means walking through a world that may misunderstand you, mock you, or attempt to redefine you. It means answering questions that others may never have to consider.

But it also means living truthfully. Boldly. Beautifully.

It means letting go of roles that never fit, and embracing a selfhood that feels aligned and whole. It means building relationships not on default expectations, but on authentic connection. It means honoring both your masculinity and your femininity — however they manifest — without shame or apology.

And perhaps most importantly, it means creating a life of your own design. A life where your wife sees and loves you for who you are, not who society says you must be. A life where your love for a man does not negate your straightness, because you love him not as a man, but as his woman. A life where your femininity is not weakness, but power.

Conclusion: Reclaiming Our Truths

So again, we ask: "Is it gay to live as a feminized husband?"

And the answer is: maybe, maybe not. But does it matter?

What matters is how you feel when you are touched, held, kissed. What matters is the truth in your body, the song in your spirit. What matters is the love you give and receive, and the courage you carry as you live that love fully, unapologetically, and joyfully.

We are not here to fit into definitions. We are here to define ourselves. To embody love in the forms it takes for us. To honor the deep truth that our lives are our own, and our identities are more than anyone else’s categories can contain.

Being a feminized husband is not a contradiction. It is a calling. It is not a deviation from masculinity — it is an expansion of what masculinity can hold. It is not a detour from straightness — it is a new, honest form of it.

I am not gay. I am not confused. I am whole.

I am a feminized husband. And this is my truth.

The Feminized Husband Blog

Femdom Friday 8/22/25

 

Source: Tom Allen (X/Twitter)

Tuesday Tulips: The Start of Tulips BBQ Experience

Tulips Fancy

Our heroine serves at the BBQ like a good emasculated submissive male-wife..... Tulips gets some help though...

    Sitting in the kitchen as the BBQ wound down I had very mixed feelings about the day. I feared that some memory's would stay with me for a while. Most of the dishes were done. Peter finished drying and I put the last plates away. As he was hanging up the tea towel, I noticed the two colourful beaded bracelets he was wearing as his lace cuffs fell down. They had female names spelt out in the beads. I asked him who they were. He said they were friendship bracelets from the ladies at the shop. He looked very embarrassed so I didn't press him on them. 

    The day started well enough. One final look in the mirror and I went down to the Kitchen. My wife was just finishing making a bowl of fruit punch. I wrapped a kitchen apron around my waist and checked the salads in the fridge. Thats when I realised, I would have to refix my hat every time I changed into my full hostess apron as it went over my head. I would only be wearing it to serve food and drinks then my wife and Kelly were keen for me to show off my pretty dress and figure. She came up behind me and ducked down to get under the brim of my hat and kissed the back of my neck while wrapping one arm around my waist and the other pawing at my breast. She pulled me back into her and told me I looked perfect. I could feel my breath quicken and my knees go week. She supported my weight for a moment until I regained my composure.  Then let me go and went to answer the door.  

       Peter followed her back in. He was wearing a pink suit like a footman in a Disney princess carton might wear. I thought for a moment that we were having a costume party but I knew we weren't. I was surprised when instead of shacking hands he kissed me on the check. My eyes were somehow drawn to the prominent bulge in the front of his tights. I did not know until a few weeks later that he wore a device covered by a pad to smooth out his tights. We bought his pasta salads in and transferred them into serving dishes for the buffet table we were going to set up. People were starting to arrive so I took my hat off and put my hostess apron on and refixed my hat in the mirror and started carrying trays of drinks out to the guests. I offered Peter one of my plainer aprons but he had bought his own which turned out to be more elaborate than mine. I think he was glad to cover his tights despite the femininity on his hostess apron. I could tell he was embarrassed but put it on and helped me with the serving. 

        Angela, Peters wife and some of the hockey girls had arrived and were hanging around the BBQ drinking beers from the ice bin that had been set up earlier. Monsieur Rabanna and his husband arrived and mixed in with Derick and Doreen while my friend Mary from the salon was a good addition to the group. Mary's husband would be coming after he finished his round of golf. The other people were my wife's work colleagues, partners, associates and customers that I did not know. And there would be more people coming later. As the afternoon wore on the buffet table was set up and running and I was able to take my apron off and have half a glass of punch while chatting with Mary. I was flattered by her praise of my hat and dress. Most people were in casual shirts and shorts. Some of the woman had made more of an effort. Being dressier than most I was both flattered and embarrassed by the attention I received but felt oddly proud. That feeling didn't last as the guests consumed more alcohol and started loosening up. Some peoples uglier side surfaced. Particularly when the golfers arrived....

The Beauty of BoyWives: The World of Taylor LaVie

Over the last couple of months I have gotten to know the theme of "BoyWives" from Taylor LaVie who is a fiction writer and artist. He specializes in the theme of "BoyWives." Feminine males who are submissive to straight masculine men. What sets apart LaVie from others is his deep philosophy of the feminine male being a far superior companion lover to a more masculine man as opposed to biological females. 

For those men who are outwardly straight, alpha, masculine, and dominant, the boywife offers a complementary balance: A boywife's nurturing and submissive nature complements and enhances the alpha's dominance, creating a symbiotic relationship where each thrives.

-Taylor LaVie

Source: Taylor LaVie

As he puts it, having another male in the relationship is also having a companion that is more understanding in the relationship since he is still a male.... just dresses in lingerie and is more submissive. The more masculine men are appreciated by their feminine boywives. 

 Her husband once thought he'd never recover after his cis ex-girlfriend tore his heart to pieces. And now he thanks his lucky stars or he would have never met his boywife, the true love of his life, and more woman than his ex ever was or ever will be. -Taylor LaVie

BoyWives look sexy, but retain many boyish features.

Taylor also creates many images of the sexy BoyWives that offer a window to their world. Truly beautiful to view.

The crazier things get with women not appreciating men, the more obvious it becomes that boywives are the answer.  Boywives love being feminine and love pleasing men. We also appreciate men being masculine. -Taylor LaVie

Source: Taylor LaVie

You can find has many images of his BoyWives in his Twitter/X page which you can find at:

Boywife Fantasies 

Trick and Treating isn't Over!

Shawna Summers has shared the continuation of her stories Dressed for Trick or Treat! And Working for Halloween!

John's feminization in Dressed for Trick or Treat 2 continues  as dress up is not over for John, It continues at the hands of Don and Chuck, they take him further into being their private slutty toy! However.... John seems to be enjoying some of the attention he is getting? An insurance "lock" is put in place! 

And in Working for Halloween 4, Tom serves Anna as she takes the lead in making him her sub! This time Tom "takes" it from a woman... 

Sample from Working for Halloween 4:

“I... I don't know,” I stammered. Blushing I said, “I really like going down on you.”

She practically purred, “Oh yes, well that's an easy one. How about me spanking you?”

I nodded and swallowed a little nervous, “Yes, Ma'am. I, well, I don't know if like is the right term, but I'll do that.”

“Good, girl,” she patted my head. “And you're good with me using the the strap-on again?”

I blushed a little, “Yes, Ma'am, I like that.”

“I seem to recall you REALLY like that,” she teased and I blushed deeper.

We talked through a few more things. Her making sure I was okay with her calling me names and she was allowed to take pictures among other things. I was down for all of it.

“Now, my little sissy girl, are you ready to be my little toy?” she asked.

I nodded, “Yes, Ma'am.”

Anna corrected me, “You will be addressing me as Mistress now.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I nodded.

“Now, get out of those clothes, I want to see what kind of lingerie you wore underneath.”

I began getting undressed, but she stopped me, “Slowly girl, make it a show for me.”

She smiled as she sat down and watched me expectantly. I took a breath to steady my nerves, then I looked at Mistress as I began to shake my ass to a slow song beat in my head. The smile on her face told me I was doing well, so I went to the same mode when I was at the costume shop and started shaking my ass and hips, making it a slow, sensual grind. 

“Oh yeah, you sure look like a dirty little sissy slut,” she purred. “Make me think you want it.”

I smiled as I continued to shake. I slowly  peeled my blouse off and used it to cover my bra and fake tits. I let the top slide  and kicked off one shoe. I then turned and bent completely over, pushing my ass right in front of Anna as I slid my other shoe off.

Sample From Dressed for Trick or Treat 2: 

I closed the door and opened my bag. I started pulling out my stuff. I laid everything out, to make sure I had it all. I’d only had a couple days to practice with the make-up, but I knew that would take the most time. So, I figured best to start there. Of course, once I started, my hands were shaking pretty bad because I was so nervous. So, I decided to wait and get dressed first instead.

I slipped on the garters and stockings. The stockings helped calm me a bit, such a delicious feeling. I started getting less nervous and more in the mood. I quickly pulled the panties up and tucked my rapidly growing hard-on away. I knew that wasn’t going to be wanted, at least not by them. I could feel the panties push against the plug that seemed like it was a part of my ass now.

I slipped the corset around my waist and tightened it as much as I could myself. I stopped and admired myself in the mirror. I wished I had bigger tits, but the corset sure helped make it look like I had some. I wondered briefly about inserts, I wasn’t sure how those worked, but I figured the boutique would probably have some. I felt a slight twinge of excitement on seeing myself. I couldn’t believe I was getting turned on looking at myself, but I had to admit, I looked pretty good.

I quickly moved to my make-up knowing that Don would be getting impatient. I know he probably didn’t care if my make-up looked good, but I did. It was weird, I knew I was just going to get fucked like a cheap hooker, but I still wanted to look good while I was used. That seemed kind of weird to me, but oh well.

Enjoy!

Links: 

Working for Halloween 4

Dressed for Trick or Treat 2 

Dressed for Trick or Treat 3

Short Story: John Peters is worried about his future.

Dear Mistress Judith,

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

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

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

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

You're ever loving but ashamed and embarrassed husband,

John

(Written by Tulips Love you lots.)

Tuesday Tulips Short Story: Tulip Gets Some Job Satisfaction

Tulip Fancy

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kassima Card: Happy Father's Day

Happy Father's Day everyone, I wonder how many fathers will be in skirts and panties today? Hmm... This year's card is based Priscilla's "La Chic Sissy." The story of rich Southern California teen who is feminized by a wealthy Arab man. This story differs from others as there is a cultural element in the transformation and also a revenge subplot involving the deadbeat father. He is renamed after being feminized and is made into the concubine of "her" lover.

The card is set a few months after the events of the story where the mother Nina send a Father's Day Card to her ex featuring her former son Casey now submissive wife Kassima!

Last Year

This Year

Link:

La Chic Sissy

 

(Short Story) Application for Transfer of Ownership

Sir,

      I am writing to you at the suggestion of my current Master and Mistress. They are aware that you visited my room on the night of your last visit and honored me with your seed. I have been in service with them since Sir Charles liberated my wife from the unsatisfying existence she had with me.

     I have two years' experience as a house maid. I have on occasion filled in as Parlour Maid. On my half day off, I have been studying hair and makeup. In the evenings I practice my stitch work in the hope of rising to Lady's Maid.

    I was "broken and broken in" by Sir Charles and was taken by one of the stable lads while taking an airing in the grounds one evening. Other than that, yours is the only seed I have taken. I douche regularly as required. I still attend to my wife's hygiene after Sir Charles has "taken her to Heaven" and hope to return to the manor when her current Ladies maid retires.

   Until then Sir Charles feels it better if I acquire experience in a different house hold. He is breaking in a new house maid at the moment and will soon require my room. When Sir Charles took ownership of us, he also took ownership of our property. He has put it in trust for the use of my owner to meet any training, medical procedures or uniforms I might need.

  I hope you can find a place for me in your household in whatever capacity you deem fit. Sir Charles has supplied a written reference.  

Hopefully to soon be your obedient servant.

Mr John Peters

House maid Stockton Manor.

(This was written by Tulip Fancy)

Sissy Saturday (May 25, 2024)

Good Morning everyone, just a public service announcement of where your place is: