I was finishing up grad school, having completed all my course work and the research for my thesis. I just needed a place to plug in my computer and finish writing the thing. My problem was money-my loans and grants were almost gone, and I wasn't eligible for a dorm now that classes were over. The ad looked perfect:
Room and board in a private residence in exchange for light housekeeping.
The house was a beautiful old Victorian on a quiet street. When I knocked, the door was answered by a huge severe looking woman. She was built like a battleship, with a wide moon like face, an enormous bust, wide hips and large buttocks, and powerful looking legs. She was also completely put together- her hair was perfectly coiffed in a stiff bouffant, her make-up was perfect, her nails manicured. She was wearing a stiff maroon silk brocade dress that hugged her body, accentuating her bust, sheer hose and classic black patent pumps with spike heels. Jewelry gleamed on her hands, wrists and neck.
She looked me up and down for a full minute while I stood awkwardly in the doorway. I introduced myself. “I am the Landlady, Mrs. Fairchild,” she announced. Then without warning she reached over and grasped my elbow and steered me into the house. “I will show you the entire house, starting with the kitchen.” She walked briskly in her pumps, her grip on my elbow was like iron, and I struggled to keep up with her pace. The house was filled with beautiful furniture. We ended up in “my room” which contained what looked like a girl's bedroom set in white with gold accents, including a carved four-poster bed, frilly accents including pink floral curtains, and a large collection of antique dolls lining the shelves of one wall. Mrs. Fairchild explained my housekeeping duties and handed me a bundle, which turned out to be a gauzy full white apron trimmed in red, with short puffy sleeves, a pleated skirt and wide ribbons which tied in back.
“You will wear this while performing your housekeeping chores in order to keep your clothing immaculate. I insist on a well ordered home. Any questions?” She stood there with her hands on her hips, looking down at me. I just shook my head no. “Excellent. Get your things, I'd like you to get started this afternoon.” Even though I hadn't even said I wanted to take the room, she had already gripped my elbow again and was leading me down to the parlor, asking me when I would return with my things. I stammered that I needed some time to pack, and thought that moving in tomorrow might make more sense. She immediately stopped in her tracks, turned and grasped my chin with her manicured thumb and forefinger, forcing me to look up into her eyes.
“I told you I want you to start today. We have a lot of work to do here, and I don't like dilly-dallying dear. Now, I expect you back here in four hours with your things. Understood.?” I was in shock. She kept my face tilted up in her hand. Her perfume was strong and I felt dizzy. What was I getting into? At the same time I felt my penis getting hard in my pants, which I didn't understand at all. Suddenly I felt myself nodding my head yes and saying “O.K.” The Landlady's red lips made an approving smile and her hand patted my cheek, her thumb pressed against my lips. “Excellent.”
While packing my things I started to have second thoughts about what I was getting into. Mrs. Fairchild was completely intimidating and obviously used to getting her way. I examined the frilly apron she had given me. What other demands would she make? I had a feeling that once I moved in things would only get worse. But I couldn't get her out of my head. When I thought of standing frozen in front of her, forced to stare directly into her eyes by the grip of her fingers firmly “chucking” me under my chin, I felt wobbly. I had to see her again. I figured if things got out of hand, I could always leave.
Four and a half hours later I arrived by taxi, my computer, books, papers and clothing packed in several boxes and couple of suitcases. I carried my things up to the front porch and rang the bell. Mrs. Fairchild opened the door and stared at me disapprovingly.
“You're 30 minutes late.” Her tone was icy, and she was impatiently tapping the toe of one of her pumps as she held the door open. I started to stammer a response when she cut me off.
“Never mind. Get those things into your room. We have a lot to do. No dilly-dallying!” I hustled the first box up the stairs. Mrs. Fairchild kept tapping her foot and admonishing me to hurry. I was panting when I finally brought the last box up to the room. I sat on the edge of the bed to catch my breath.
“What are you doing?!” I jumped up like a jack-in-the-box. The Landlady stood in front of me. Again she chucked me under the chin. The sensation of her hand holding my face made by breath come even harder.
“Sweetheart, we NEVER sit on the edge of the bedspread. It is uncouth. And it is only polite to ask my permission if you wish to be seated in my presence, don't you agree?” Her hand tilted my head back even farther, so I was looking up into her gaze.
“Yes ma'am.” Again she smiled and patted my cheek, letting the ball of her thumb brush against my lips.
“You have lovely lips dear, has anyone ever told you that?” She traced my lips with her thumb. I felt frozen. Her physical presence was overwhelming me. I barely shook my head no. With a final pressure, which almost caused her thumb to part my startled lips she released me. She moved behind me and I could hear her remove something from a box. Before I could turn around I felt something being brought over my head. It was the apron. Without asking me, she lifted my arms into the sleeve holes and drawing the ribbons tight trussed me into the apron, tying a large floppy bow the small of my back.
“There. Now lets get started.” As I looked down at the full pleated gauzy skirt of the apron, I was again being dragged by the arm. When Mrs. Fairchild gave me my list of chores, I could see right away that this so-called “light housekeeping” would barely leave me time to do anything else. Under her watchful eye I began my vacuuming the living room carpet. Before I was halfway done the vacuum went dead. When I turned to check the plug, Mrs. Fairchild was holding it in her hand.
“Darling, look at what those shoes are doing to my carpet!” I was wearing a pair of sneakers, which slightly disturbed the pile of the thick carpet as I walked across it. She made me remove the footwear, and frowned disapprovingly at the rubber treads. “Don't you have any shoes with smooth leather bottoms dear? These will never do!” When I told her I did not, she left with my sneakers. I stood there awkwardly in the apron and my stockinged feet, holding the wand of the vacuum. She returned, holding a pair of shiny black flats.
“Put these on.” She handed me the shoes, which smelled of leather and appeared brand new. I noticed that her spiked pumps left small indentations in the carpet and started to protest when she pushed me down on the sofa and snatched the shoes from my hand. “Really, you must learn to respond more quickly, I expect a “yes ma'am” when I address you.” She slid the shoes onto my feet, and to my surprise they fit perfectly. Soon I was back at work. When I saw my reflection in the mirror, I started to feel a little queasy. With the frilly apron and shiny black flats I looked bizarre. But Mrs. Fairchild didn't give me a moment to rest, taking me from one task to the next, with me “yes maaming” and straining to keep up with her.
Finally it was dinner time. Cooking was not one my tasks, and after I remembered to ask the Landlady's permission to be seated (still in my apron and flats), she was placing a steaming plate in front of me. It was a beef liver, string beans and mashed potatoes. I never ate liver, but was afraid to say anything. When Mrs. Fairchild asked me why I was taking so long to eat, I confessed that I'd rather not eat the meat.
Without a word, Mrs. Fairchild moved her seat next to mine, and snatched the silverware out of my hands. She cut up the liver into bite size pieces, stabbed one with the fork and brought it to my lips. I opened my mouth to protest and she popped it in. I almost gagged. Before I could even start chewing a forkful of green beans was pressed against my mouth. I tried to keep my lips shut but Mrs. Fairchild effortlessly pushed the fork into my mouth. Now her right arm circled behind my back held me firmly while she continued to feed me with the left. I struggled to keep up with her pace, almost gagging on more than one occasion. Finally my plate was empty, and she had lifted a glass of milk to my lips and was pouring it in so fast some dribbled down my chin. She didn't stop until the glass was empty. Finally she was finished. She patted my face with a napkin.
“Mrs. Fairchild, I . . .” She placed a finger against my lips and cut me off.
“I always cook healthy nutritious food and I expect you to eat everything on your plate. If you can't do that by yourself, I will assist you. I can see that I'd better get you a sippy-cup since you seem to have trouble using a glass! Now run upstairs and get ready for your bath and bed.” She paused. “Did you hear me?!”
“Yes ma'am!” With that she gave my face a final pat and I was excused.
I felt like I was in a daze. Was I really sitting here in a frilly apron and feminine black flats, having just been fed my dinner like a child? Part of me wanted to run out of the house, but Mrs. Fairchild's looming perfumed presence, only inches away from me, was like a magnet keeping me close. I didn't want to admit it, but the tingling I felt all over, especially in my pants was too real to deny. As I slowly started to rise from my chair I felt a strong hand push me back down.
“Really dear, where did you learn your manners? You must ask permission to be excused from the table.” I looked over at the Landlady, her hand still on my shoulder.
“May I please be excused?”
“May I please be excused who?” She stared at me disapprovingly.
“May I please be excused Mrs. Fairchild?”
“Very well dear. Now run upstairs and run your bath.”
As I pushed away from the table, I thought for a minute about questioning her about this, since it was early and I didn't particularly want to bathe. But I already knew better. I went up to my room, which had an adjoining bathroom with a large tub. I ran the water. As the tub was filling Mrs. Fairchild came up behind me with a box and began dumping a powder into the water. Fragrant bubbles immediately began to fill the tub.
“Umm, Mrs. Fairchild, I don't really need bubble bath....”
“Nonsense darling, this will keep your skin fragrant and supple, and you do have lovely skin, don't you.” She pinched my cheek so hard I almost yelped. “Now, quickly get out of those things and pop into the tub.”
For a minute I didn't think she was going to leave, but finally she did. I disrobed and entered the tub. Almost immediately Mrs. Fairchild re-entered the bathroom.
“Please, can't I have a little privacy!” I decided things were starting to get out of hand.
Mrs. Fairchild's face became livid. “Don't you DARE use that tone of voice to me sonny boy! And you had better learn how to address me properly or I'm going to take you over my knee! This is MY house, and I don't expect you to tell me where I can and cannot go. I came in to make sure you had folded your apron properly, and I can see that you did not! And you had better scrub yourself thoroughly, or I'll get on my knees and do it myself! Understood?”
“Yes Mrs. Fairchild ma'am!” I lowered my eyes. Sitting naked in the tub listening to this tirade, I could only be thankful for the perfumed bubbles that covered my raging hard-on. What was wrong with me? I had never had any desire to be bossed around by a woman, especially a large older woman who was treating me like a 12 year old. But I felt so weak with sexuality that I was literally shaking.
“Very well, now hurry up, I'll give you 5 more minutes and then I'll finish this myself.” She turned and left, closing the door. I quickly finished the bath, dried off and wrapped the large pink towel she had left around me. When I entered my bedroom the bedspread had been turned back and what looked like pajamas were resting on the bed. I couldn't find any of my own clothes. I picked up the “pajamas” which turned out to be a flannel nightgown with a short skirt and a pink and red floral pattern with a lace collar and short puffed sleeves trimmed in lace. I felt lightheaded again. What was going on?
Mrs. Fairchild suddenly steamed into the room without knocking. “What, you aren't dressed yet? Hurry up lazybones!”
“Ummmm, Mrs. Fairchild ma'am, I appreciate you giving me this nightgown but . . .”
The Landlady raised a hand, indicating that I should stop. “You had NO pajamas of any kind in your ratty clothing, and I insist on proper bed clothing. Now get dressed!”
I stood in my towel, realizing my penis was hard again. “Yes please, ma'am, if you could just give me a little privacy . . .”
Mrs. Fairchild unceremoniously yanked off my towel, leaving me exposed. My hands rushed down to my member, which she seemed to note with a nod. She snatched the nightgown and pulled it over my head. I had to raise my arms and she finished dressing me, her hands smoothing down the skirt right over my hard-on, causing me to squirm. “Umm, I don't have my underwear . . .”
Mrs. Fairchild was already pulling me down into the bed, and pulling the coverlet over me, sitting down next to me. “You don't need a panty to sleep in sweetheart, but I'll get you some if you insist.” Her leaned down close, tucking me in and smoothing my hair with her manicured hand, her bracelets tickling me. I couldn't stop staring into her large face.
“Now I know you've tried to be a good boy, but you must be careful to follow the house rules. I'd hate to have to discipline you.” As she said this her face leaned closer, only inches from my own, and her hand was smoothing the covers over me, again rubbing my penis through the thick cover and my nightgown, causing me to catch my breath. “I can see that you love your new bedclothes darling,” she continued, a smile on her face. “Don't you?” As she said this her hand again moved slowly down the coverlet over my body. “I said, don't you?” I found myself nodding affirmatively. This caused her to break out into a wide smile. “I'm so glad darling. I can see we are going to get along splendidly. You know, Mrs. Fairchild is so formal, why don't you call me 'Auntie Dear.' How does that sound pumpkin?” Again her large warm hand was pressing against the cover over my groin, causing me to squirm. Her face was just an inch from my own, an her eyes forced me tostay locked on her own. “Hmmmmmmm?”
“Ah, uh, o.k. if you'd like.” I struggled to get the words out.
“If who would like?” Her hand pressed more firmly on the cover. I felt like I was going to cum.
“If you would, Auntie Dear.” Her face broke into a smile and her lips pressed against mine briefly. I could taste her lipstick.
“Good night precious.” She tucked me in even tighter before she left, till I felt like I couldn't breathe. We have a BIG day tomorrow sweetums, so get plenty of sleep.”
“Yes Auntie Dear” I heard myself say. With that she left the room, and when the door closed I heard a key click in the lock.
It took me a long time to fall asleep. Spending my first night in this strange new bedroom in nothing but a frilly nightgown had me on pins and needles, the fabric causing a constant state of arousal that I could do nothing to relieve. What was I doing? I made up my mind that I had better get out of this situation-I had not been able to even think about working on my paper, let alone plug in my computer, and I didn't see that changing anytime soon. Mrs. Fairchild obviously had an agenda that I didn't understand at all. Finally I drifted into a fitful sleep.
“Wake up sleepyhead!” Mrs. Fairchild yanked back my covers and was pulling me from the bed. I opened my eyes to see that she had obviously been up for some time. Her hair and make-up were perfect, and she wore a cream colored satin blouse, a brown wool skirt to the knee, stockings and a pair of expensive looking chocolate alligator pumps with 4” heels. “Good morning dear heart.” She looked at me expectantly, and began tapping the toe of her pump. Finally I understood.
“Good morning Auntie Dear.” I was mortified hearing the words come out of my mouth. Mrs. Fairchild's lips curled into a Mona Lisa smile and her fingers locked onto my own and she half dragged me into the bathroom. She started putting toothpaste on my toothbrush and snapped her fingers, pointing toward the toilet. I stood frozen.
“Ummm, please Mrs. ... I mean please Auntie, can't I have a little privacy?” I couldn't believe I was pleading just to be able to relieve myself alone. The Landlady's eyes blazed.
“Your are to refer to me as Auntie DEAR or Dearest, I thought that was understood. One more slip like that I'll be introducing you to my hairbrush. And if you wanted to use the bathroom privately you should have gotten up on time. You're late, and you obviously need help getting ready which I intend to provide. I suggest you sit on the potty if you crave privacy, your nightgown will hide your privates.”
My face red, I lowered myself onto the toilet. I hoped Mrs. Fairchild would turn her back, but she stood with her hands on her hips, tapping her foot impatiently.
“You'd better hurry princess, I already told you you're late!” The problem was my penis was so stiff I couldn't go. Finally I got up sheepishly, my bladder still full. The Landlady pulled me over to the sink and handed me my toothbrush. I had to brush and wash up while she stood next to me. When I dried myself with the towel, she insisted on “inspecting” my hands back and front, and even bent my ears to check behind them. Before I could protest she had again locked her fingers with mine and pulled me back out to the bedroom.
“There's no time to get dressed now, just put on your slippers.” She pointed to the side of the bed, to a pair of fuzzy pink slippers.
“But Auntie Dear, I . . .” Mrs. Fairchild cut me off.
“Do I have to start dressing you too? Really!” Not wanting to give her the chance I quickly slipped on the slippers. She again took hold of my hand and led me down the stairs.
My mind was scrambling for a plan. Despite my constant state of sexual arousal, I had to get away from Auntie Dear before it was too late. Once I got dressed, I would have to come up with a reason to go to town. I would worry about my stuff later. But when I looked down at my nightgown, I could see it tenting in front of me. I still had no underwear! As I sat down for breakfast, I decided this was the first problem I had to solve. Auntie Dear was ladling oatmeal into a large bowl.
“Excuse me, Auntie Dear, I know I got up late but I still don't have any underwear on so . . .” The Landlady placed the bowl in front of me and before I knew what was happening she was tying a large plastic bib around my neck from behind.
“Are you still going on and on about your panties princess? Very well. There's no time to go back upstairs, you need to eat your cereal pronto.” She disappeared for a minute, and when she returned something was dangling from her outstretched finger. It was a pair of pink satin panties, bordered in frilly white lace, with row after row of lace on the seat in a “rumba” style. I was so shocked I dropped my spoon, which clattered to the floor.
“Your lucky I have some extra undies in my linen closet. Get up and put these on.” She brought her hand closer, the panty still dangling from her finger, till it brushed against my face.
This was the last straw. I jumped from my chair, my face red. “Look, I don't know what your game is, but I came here to rent a room, nothing more. I'm getting out of here!!” I turned to leave.
Mrs. Fairchild grabbed my wrist and twisted. In one motion she seated herself in an empty chair and I found myself splayed over her lap. She was surprisingly strong. Her left hand held the back of my neck immobilized and her right hand yanked up the nightgown until it was bunched around my waist, exposing my bare bottom. I felt her reaching for something, and suddenly there was a faint whistling noise and something smooth and hard struck me with stinging force. Again and again she spanked my bare bottom till it stung like fire and my eyes starting tearing and I started blubbering despite my best effort not to.
Finally it stopped. I lay there with my breath heaving. The worst thing was my penis was hard again and pressed against Mrs. Fairchild's skirt. She lifted my face with her hand and showed me the instrument of my punishment, a stainless steel hairbrush. She turned it so the back was facing me.
“Kiss it.” I hesitated, and she pressed it against my lips. Almost involuntarily I planted a kiss on the cold metal. Satisfied, she pulled me to my feet, the nightgown falling and hiding my shame. She reached for the pink satin panties and held them out. Without a word I took them, stepped into them and pulled them up to my waist. Smiling, she pushed me into my chair where my cereal still waited.
“I see you dropped your spoon buttercup. You do need a LOT of help.” She sat down next tom me, reached down for the spoon and dipped it into the oatmeal. “Open wide.”
My bottom was throbbing, and before I knew it Mrs. Fairchild had shoved the full spoon into my mouth. As I struggled to swallow she was already bringing another spoon to my lips.
“What do you say dear?” She reached over patted my cheek.
My mouth full, I managed to get out a “Thank you Auntie Dear.”
“That's a good girl!” The feeding continued.
My mind was reeling as Mrs. Fairchild spooned the last of the oatmeal into my mouth. Seated on the hard wooden chair my bottom was on fire, and the sensation of the cool satin panty clinging to my raw ass only heightened my feelings of helplessness. The Landlady had a Cheshire Cat smile on her face as she carefully wiped my mouth, pushed her chair back and drew me to my feet. She was obviously feeling triumphant about what had just occurred, and I had to admit I now felt desperate. How would I get away from this battleship-like matron, whose high heeled pumps and bouffant hairdo caused her to tower over me?
As if reading my thoughts, Mrs. Fairchild took my chin between her manicured thumb and forefinger and forced my head back so that I was staring into her steely gaze. She encircled my waist with her other hand and placed her palm on the seat of my nightgown squarely against my raw bottom, causing me to involuntarily wince.
“Now precious, I'm sorry you had to be introduced to Auntie's hairbrush but you know how important it is to follow our house rules. Now don't you feel better that you've had a nice hot breakfast?” Her warm palm's pressure on my bottom increased slightly.
“Yes thank you Auntie Dear.” I could feel my face turning scarlet as I meekly replied, ashamed of my own cowardice.
The Landlady again smiled triumphantly. Keeping my chin firmly in her grip, she moved the ball of her thumb up to press against my lips, slowly outlining my mouth. “Of course you have a little problem now princess,” she said, and suddenly her hand on my ass squeezed tightly, causing me to yelp out loud. As my mouth opened Mrs. Fairchild inserted her thumb between my lips, and she stared down at my tilted face, her own lips forming a condescending pout. Involuntarily my own lips mimicked hers, and I found myself sucking her thumb.
“Obviously,” she continued, “you are not going to be able to wear trousers with your sore little tushy. I'll find something you can wear in the meantime.” My heart filled with dread. I started to feel like everything that had happened was part of a inexorable plan that I was helpless to stop. At the same time Mrs. Fairchild was working her thumb back and forth in my mouth.
“You have such sweet lips bunny, and I can see you love to sucky-suck.” Her tone was increasingly condescending, and I couldn't even respond with her thumb filling my mouth. Finally she removed it, with a final pat to my cheek. Taking me by the hand, she led me back upstairs to her own room. As I waited she came out of the closet holding a red and white gingham cotton dress with a wide pleated skirt.
“This should fit you perfectly sweetlips.” She held out the dress. I stood rooted to the floor. I had been consciously avoiding the topic, but I finally had to face reality. First the apron and the shoes, then the panties, now a dress. And the increasing references to me as “princess” and even “girl.” I had to do something! I decided to try to be more diplomatic, even flattering.
“Oh Auntie Dearest, what a beautiful dress!” I could see Mrs. Fairchild was pleased by both the “Dearest” and the compliment. “I really appreciate your concern for my sore bottom Auntie Dearest,” I continued carefully, “but I must say that I'm a little confused. You seem to be forgetting that I'm a um, uh, well, a man, and . . .” Her smile immediately turned to a frown.
“Honestly, how ungrateful!! Here I am thinking only of your comfort, and you can only respond with silly impertinence! Now put this on immediately!” She thrust the dress at me. Her burst of anger caused me to reach out for the garment. My recent spanking still throbbing, I carefully removed my nightgown and pulled the dress over my head, bringing my arms through the lace trimmed sleeves.
As I did this, Mrs. Fairchild approached me with the shiny black flats and apron I had worn yesterday. She also had an pair of thin white anklets trimmed in lace. “Quickly, put your shoes and socks on.” I did so, and Mrs. Fairchild turned me around to finish buttoning up the dress and then she trussed me tightly into the apron, tying it with a flourish in a large bow. Taking me by the hand, she walked me to a large full length mirror and stood behind me. There I was, in a gingham dress that fell just above my knee, frilly anklets and shiny feminine black shoes, with a frothy lacy apron over all. Staring at myself I could feel my penis straining against my slippery satin panties.
Mrs. Fairchild encircled my waist in her two strong arms and brought me in close so my head rested against her massive bosom, her face looming over mine in the mirror. “Don't you look precious darling! Like a living doll! Tell Auntie how much you love your new dress.” She squeezed me from behind in her bear hug, causing my raw bottom to painfully press against the front of her skirt like a warning.
“Thank you for the new dress Auntie, Auntie Dear.” This didn't satisfy her, and she moved one hand around to my ass, patting it gently, bringing her lips close to my ear.
“Tell me how much you LOVE it princess.”
I knew I was defeated, and the worst thing was I could feel pre-cum forming on the tip of my penis as it strained inside my flimsy panties. Mrs. Fairchild's perfume was literally overwhelming me, and her breath was hot against my ear.
“Oh Auntie Dearest, I LOVE my beautiful new dress.”
She still wasn't finished. “Who loves it princess?” I could only stare in the mirror as she said this with a smile, her lips flicking against my ear, her arms squeezing me even more tightly. She was obviously enjoying herself.
“Your Princess loves her new dress, Auntie Dear.” I lowered my eyes with shame.
Now that I was dressed, the Landlady had a long list of chores for me, and soon I was busy dusting, polishing, sweeping and scrubbing. At first Mrs. Fairchild was always present, directing my efforts, giving orders, and scolding me. I didn't have a minute to breathe as she tapped her alligator pump impatiently and snapped her manicured fingers over and over. When I began the daunting task of polishing all the living-room furniture, she left me alone however. I frantically racked my brains on how I could escape from the increasingly suffocating embrace of Auntie Dear. I knew the front door was locked with a key, and I noted with despair the decorative bars on all the first floor windows. I thought about finding the telephone and calling “911” but I hesitated. What would the police think when they got a load of me in my gingham dress and apron? I shuddered just thinking about it.
Finally it was lunch time, and Mrs. Fairchild called me in to the dining room. I had only taken a couple of steps into the room when she frowned and order me to halt.
“Honestly Princess, how many times has Auntie told you that you must acknowledge her sweetly when entering and leaving a room? I'm afraid you've just earned yourself a session with Auntie's hairbrush.” I could feel my face draining of color.
“But I don't want to spoil your lunch darling, so we can get to that later. But it seems like you need a little reminder to help you act in a ladylike fashion. From now on, whenever you enter or leave a room where Auntie is present, or wish to address Auntie, I expect you to sweetly curtsy. That way my precious one will remember her manners. Now let's see a lovely curtsy while you greet your Auntie, Princess.” Mrs. Fairchild put her hands on her hips and waited with a triumphant smile.
My hands were shaking as I took hold of my skirt on each side, crossed my legs and dropped a tentative curtsy, a “Hello Auntie Dear” croaking from my throat.
“No, no, sweetheart, you must be more bouncy, dip deeply, and bow your head demurely before fluttering your lashes and looking up sweetly! Now try it again.” After several attempts, I finally curtsied to Auntie Dear's satisfaction. I dreaded mealtimes. This time however, although Mrs. Fairchild insisted on cutting up my food, she let me feed myself, though my juice was served in a “sippy” cup. I didn't dare complain.
The afternoon was filled with more and more housework until I was exhausted. Mrs. Fairchild seemed to take delight in purposely leaving or entering a room, or calling me to join her, so that I was constantly popping up and down in deep curtsies like a jack-in-a-box. Finally it was dinnertime, and while I began to feed myself the stew the Landlady had prepared, I was not eating fast enough and she soon produced the dreaded pink plastic bib, snatched the spoon from me and began shoveling food into my mouth until I thought I would gag. She brought the sippy cup to my lips and forced my head back, and wouldn't stop until I had drained it of lukewarm milk. She poured it so fast soome dribbled down my chin onto the bib, which Mrs. Fairchild duly noted, observing that her “Princess obviously needed a bib at mealtimes.”
Mrs. Fairchild then marched me upstairs for bath and bed. When I entered my room I immediately noticed that all my boxes of belongings had vanished. My heart sank to a new low as I realized that the Landlady had been busy while I had done my housework downstairs. Mrs. Fairchild ignored my obvious consternation, ordering me to undress as she went in to run the bath. I reached behind and tried to untie the bow of my apron but could not budge it. When the Landlady reentered the room, I was still struggling.
I remembered to drop a curtsy, and I meekly asked Auntie Dear if she could help me untie my apron. This seemed to please her enormously.
“Does my sweet little girl need help taking off her lovely apron, hmmmmmmm?” She taunted me in a sing-song voice. I nodded affirmatively.
“Yes please Auntie Dear.” Smiling, she reached over and gave my cheek a hard pinch. Then twirling me around, she untied the apron and helped me remove it. She proceeded to help me disrobe completely, despite my protests that I could do it myself.
“Hush cupcake, Auntie can see that her adorable Princess needs a LOT of help.” Soon I was in nothing but the pink satin panties, which were tenting embarrassingly. Mrs. Fairchild reached for them. “My darling girl obviously LOVES her silky panties, doesn't she?” I stood like a statute. Mrs. Fairchild frowned, and yanked the panties down around my ankles. “You just don't learn, do you sweetlips?” She reached for the large purse she had rested on a chair, and removed her stainless steel hairbrush. She then sat on the edge of the bed and crooked her finger for me to approach.
“Please no!” I began to wail. She just crooked her finger again. Shaking like a leaf, I approached her, and she presented the hairbrush.
“Kisses.” She nodded toward it. Filled with humiliation, I kissed the hairbrush. Suddenly, she reached out and took hold of my erection, using it like a handle to draw me over her lap. Her skirt was hiked up to her mid-thigh,and she positioned my steel-hard penis between her ample thighs, pressing them tightly together. She then brought the hairbrush down on my already sore bottom with stinging force. Again and again the hairbrush whistled through the air, exploding against me, causing my body to buck and writhe. This caused my penis to work itself between Mrs. Fairchild's thighs, and I could feel an orgasm building inside me even as the blows rained on my scarlet ass.
“Princess loves her spanky, doesn't she?!” The Landlady taunted me as she continued to spank me, and my naked body continued to flail in her lap. Suddenly my penis exploded in orgasm, and I bucked like a rag doll as Mrs. Fairchild increased the speed and force of her blows. Finally she stopped and I lay panting over her lap. She stroked the back of my head, and reached down with the hairbrush so I could kiss it, which I did.
Mrs. Fairchild began to tsk-tsk. I could feel my penis, still tightly caught in the vise of her thighs, shriveling. “Now look what my naughty girl has done. We'll have to do something about this, won't we Princess?” I could only shudder, imagining what lay ahead.
When Auntie finally released me from her lap, she pointed to her stockinged calves and the back of her pumps where my mess had landed.
“Now lick up your squirties this instant you naughty girl!” I scrambled to my hands and knees and licked and sucked the smooth nylon covering the Landlady's calves, as well as the backs of her polished leather pumps. The warm saltiness filled my mouth. Mrs. Fairchild seemed to enjoy this enormously, and when I was finally finished she directed me to kiss the toe of each of her shoes to show much much I “loved my Auntie Dearest.” Waves of humiliation washed over me as I complied.
Soon I was being marched into the bathroom for another scented bubble bath. My raw buttocks screamed with pain as it entered the water and settled in the tub. Auntie kneeled beside me and started shampooing my hair. My protest died on my lips, I couldn't risk another punishment and she was obviously intent on bathing me. She washed and conditioned my hair, and scrubbed me vigorously with a brush. When she reached into the water with her soapy slippery hand and took hold of my member, it sprang back to attention, causing her to smile at me knowingly.
“Oh Princess loves being bathed by Auntie, doesn't she! You are a lazy little girl, aren't you poppet!” I blushed and squirmed as she continued to clean my privates. Finally I was out of the tub and seated at the vanity in a fluffy pink towel while Mrs. Fairchild vigorously dried my hair. She opened a drawer of the vanity and removed a bright pink roller and a bottle of setting lotion. Using her dreaded hairbrush, which she first waved at me playfully, she expertly brushed out a section of hair at my forehead, liberally applied the setting lotion and rolled it tightly onto the roller. I sat frozen, staring in horror at my reflection in the mirror.
“Ummmmmm, ah, Auntie Dear, Auntie Dearest, please I don't think . . . “ The Landlady pressed a finger against my lips, silencing me.
“Now don't you dare say another word bunny! Your hair was a mess, and needs to be styled.” She hummed as she worked, rolling my hair so tightly my head felt like it was on fire. Soon my head was a mass of pink rollers. She then produced a pink satin sleep cap bordered in lace and placed it over the bulky mass of rollers. But she wasn't finished. Reaching into the vanity again, she produced a nail file, emory board, and two bottles of clear nail polish.
“Look at your nails Princess, honestly, I don't know how you managed without Auntie's help.” Seated next to me at the vanity, she shaped and filed my nails and applied two coats, first of nail hardener, and then a clear polish. She instructed me to remain seated and blow on my nails until they dried. I was forced to watch a parody of my former self, in a bulky pink satin cap blow on my newly shiny nails. Finally the Landlady called me back into the bedroom. The covers were pulled down on the bed and a nightgown and panty lay waiting for me. The panty was again pink satin bordered with white lace, but this time the seat was dripping with not only rows of white lace but tiny white satin bows. The nightgown was also pink satin bordered in white lace, shorter than the one I had worn last night, with a pattern of stretchy pink thread-work decorating the bodice.
“Auntie knows that her darling Princess insisted on sleeping in her panties, and I certainly want you to be happy dearest.” She removed my towel and helped me into the panties and nightgown. “What do you say darling?”
Almost involuntarily I found my self curtsying. “Thank you Auntie Dear for the beautiful nightgown and panties.” She helped me into bed and tucked me tightly under the covers. My head was extremely uncomfortable in the mass of rollers as I lay back on the pillows.
“That's a good little girl!” Auntie sat close to me on the bed and began smoothing the coverlets over my body, pressing the thick blankets, sheets, nightgown and satin panty against my stiff member. Her other hand stroked my face. I could not look away from her steely gaze as I desperately tried to keep from getting sexually aroused by her roaming hands.
“Was the housework too much for Princess today? You look exhausted cupcake.” She continued to stroke me face, her finger tips stroking my ears and moving to trace against my lips. I was wary but it was hard to keep a clear head with her hands running back and forth over the covers and my face. “Auntie has a LONG list of chores for tomorrow, but maybe its too much for a delicate girl like you dear. Would Princess like a little break, hmmmmmmm?” Her fingers were dancing on my lips and she increased the pressure against my crotch.
I opened my mouth to say something and the Landlady slipped her index finger in, stroking my tongue with its tip. “If Princess wears an extra pretty dress for Auntie, than she can have the WHOLE day off, how does that sound honeybunch? Just nod your head for me sweetheart.”
I felt precum starting to form on the tip of my penis, and she heavily stroked the covers and her finger worked in and out of my mouth. I felt like this was some kind of trap, but the thought of a break from the crushing housework was so seductive. It was so hard to think, I mean she had me in a dress anyway, why should I break my back, . . . . Without realizing it, I found my head gently nodding up and down.
Auntie's face broke into such a triumphant smile that I felt queasy. She leaned down and planted a long wet kiss on my lips. With a final pat on the covers and squeeze of my cheeks, she disengaged herself and stood up. “Excellent darling, I can't wait until tomorrow!! Sweet dreams Princess.” With that she turned off the light and turned the key in the lock.
When I woke up I didn't know where I was at first. My head felt strange, and when I reached up with my hand I encountered the satin cap which covered the bulky rollers all over my head. The previous day's events came rushing back, and a feeling of dread washed over me. I started to panic. I had to get out of here! It actually took me a minute to work my way out from under the heavy coverlet, the Landlady had tucked me in so tightly. My feet touched the cold floor, and sprang back involuntarily. I grudgingly put on the pink fluffy slippers that were waiting next to the bed and went to window of my second floor room. There were no bars on this window, and I could see a drain pipe next to the sill. Could I actually climb out? I strained to open the large casement window, but it wouldn't budge. I was became acutely aware of my slippery satin nightgown and panties as I struggled with the window. I felt ridiculous, and the silky material was causing me to become aroused again, much to my chagrin.
Suddenly I heard the key turning in my door. I froze. The Landlady sailed into the room. Her hair was pulled back tightly and styled in a neat french braid, which accented the bone structure of her wide face and her large gold button earrings. Her eyebrows were perfectly arched, and her make-up as always was impeccable, down to the deep crimson she had chosen for her lips and nails. She was wearing an expensive looking red designer suit, with a cream colored silk blouse, patterned stockings and deep red t-strap high heeled pumps with white toecaps. Gold jewelry flashed on her fingers, wrists and neck. Her demeanor seemed even more “take-charge” than normal, if that was possible.
“I see my little bunny has hopped out of her bed!” She stopped in front of me, hands on her hips. I stood mute for a second, and then I saw the dreaded “tap” of one of her pumps.
I frantically took the lace edges of my satin nightgown in my hands and dropped a deep curtsy, remembering to bow my head and then look up “demurely” as the Landlady had instructed. “Good morning Auntie Dearest!”
Mrs. Fairchild immediately took me by the hand and marched me into the bathroom, supervising my morning toilet. Soon I was seated at the vanity, and she had removed the sleep cap and the rollers. My hair was a mass of tight curls. She began vigorously brushing my hair, styling it by adding a side part which she secured with two large pink plastic barrettes. She then painfully plucked my eyebrows into thin arches. I could only look at myself in horror in the mirror as the transformation progressed.
I was then dragged by the hand into Mrs. Fairchild's room. A number of articles of clothing were laid out on her bed. She removed my slippers, nightgown and panties and handed me something.
“Put these on.” They were white opaque tights. I clumsily rolled them up my legs. They were shot with some kind of pale pink glitter. She then put me back in the pink satin rumba panties, pulling them over the tights. My penis began straining against the nylon and satin. Mrs. Fairchild's crimson lips curled into a smile.
“Oh look how much Princess LOVES her new clothes, and she's not even fully dressed yet!! You are such a naughty girl!” Mrs. Fairchild taunted me with a sing-song voice, causing me to blush crimson. “But Auntie forgot about your little accident yesterday sweetheart!! We can't have Princess making icky squirties in her panty, can we, hmmmmmmm.” She chucked me under the chin, jerking my head back, then pinched my hot cheek. Reaching onto the bed, she produced a strange looking item. It was a pink satin sheath, with 3 pink ribbons dangling from it. It looked like it was lined with fur. She yanked down my panties and tights, took hold of my straining member, and pulled the satin tube down over my penis. To my horror, the snug fitting sheath was fur-lined. She brought one ribbon between my legs and the other two on either side of my hips, drawing them tight at the small of my back. The ribbon between my legs was drawn tightly into my butt crack as she knotted the 3 ribbons together. Then she pulled the tights and panties back up around my waist over the sheath.
“There bunny!” she cooed, patting my panties in front and causing me to squirm involuntarily. The fur tickled my erect shaft with the slightest movement, but I couldn't seem to remain still. Suddenly Mrs. Farichild had brought a white satin waist-cincher around my middle and was busily tying it tightly behind me, making it difficult to breathe. Over this went a white silk slip to mid-thigh, bordered in frilly lace. Reaching onto the bed once more, she picked up what looked like a huge mass of white netted material. Before I could react she was bringing it over my head and securing it around my waist. It was a massive bouffant white crinoline petticoat decorated with white satin bows and ribbons. It was short, flouncing out to just about mid-thigh. My mind was reeling. What kind of outfit was this?
Mrs. Fairchild, humming with pleasure, had disappeared for a moment. She then emerged from her closet, holding a dress in front of her. “Look darling, isn't it adorable!” It could only be described as a young girl's white satin party frock. It had a wide lacy peter pan collar, short puffed sleeves bordered in frothy lace, a tight bodice with flowery pink stitching, and a high empire waist encircled by a wide pink satin sash. The voluminous skirt had large pleats, and row after row of pink satin bows accented the skirt, which was hemmed with a band of wide frothy lace. Before I knew what was happening Mrs. Fairchild had brought the massive garment over my head and was pulling my arms through the sleeves. Still humming, she fastened the long line of pearl buttons that ran up the back.
“My, what a lot of buttons!! I'm afraid you'll never get this dress off without Auntie's help, but why would you want to darling? Its simply divine!” She then brought the pink satin sash tightly around my waist and tied and enormous butterfly bow at my back. The skirt of the dress seem to stick out at right angles from my body, resting over the crinoline petticoat. My knees felt so weak I felt like I was going to swoon. As if reading my mind, Mrs. Fairchild pushed me onto the bed. The dress flounced around me, coming almost up to my face and obscuring my vision. I felt like I was drowning in crinoline and heavy satin. I could feel her slipping something onto my feet. She then pulled me back up to my feet and placed lacy white gloves over my hands, fastening them with pearl buttons. Taking me by the elbow, she marched me to the full length mirror.
I stared in horror. I looked like a 12 year old girl on her way to church or a fancy party. I could now see the shoes that my skirts had obscured-classic black patent leather Maryjanes with gold buckles that shone like mirrors. As I stood rooted to the spot, Mrs. Fairchild came up behind me with a mischievous smile. Just when I didn't think it could get any worse, her hands came up and she placed a wide-brimmed white straw girl's hat with a wide pink satin hatband on my curly head. She secured pink ribbons dangling from the hat around my chin and tied it tightly into an uncomfortable bow. She then handed me a little girl's black patent leather purse that matched the Maryjanes.
“Look at Auntie's little Princess!! What fun we are going to have!!” Auntie squeezed my waist. The blood was ringing in my ears and my penis was buzzing and tingling like a nest of bees. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Without warning a huge orgasm shook me, and I could feet the cum spurting into my fur lined satin penis sheath under my layers of satin, crinoline and lace.
I was literally in a daze as Mrs. Fairchild pulled me away by my gloved hand. My voluminous petticoats made a sibilant swishing against my white tights with every step I took in my squeaky-new Maryjanes. I had never been so uncomfortably aware of clothing before-the combination of the clingy tights, narrow waist cincher, gauzy crinolines, snug heavy satin dress loaded with ribbons and frilly lace, not to mention the wide brimmed hat tied tightly under my chin assaulted my senses with every tiny move my body made. Worst of all, I could feel my sticky penis shriveling inside its wet fur-lined sheath.
Mrs. Fairchild stopped at a dressing table and picked up an atomizer. She blasted me with several squeezes of a flowery violet-scented perfume, much different from her own sophisticated scent. This only increased my hazy sense of unreality. I stood dumbly as she reached into a jewelry box and fastened a gold heart shaped locket around my neck, and a gold charm bracelet around one of my wrists. Satisfied, she pinched my cheek hard until I yelped, and once again began dragging me by the hand as I struggled to keep up with her purposeful gait, my crinolines audibly swishing as I hurried clutching my patent leather purse.
I soon realized that I had made a hideous mistake in exchanging my housekeeper's apron for this satin party frock. Mrs. Fairchild announced that since I was too delicate to help with the housework, I was going to learn how to walk, talk, sit, stand, and behave in every way as “a young lady.” While the Landlady made herself comfortable in an overstuffed chair, I was forced to walk back and forth across the livingroom.
“No, no dear, that won't do at all! You must learn how to mince daintily!! And you must stop clutching your purse like a briefcase!! Auntie wants you to keep your elbow close to your waist, and turn your arm up at a 45 degree angle. Let your adorable little purse dangle from your wrist while your gloved hand is held out sweetly! Now try it again, remember to use your other hand to hold your skirts prettily away from your body. Sway your girlish hips bunny. That's a good girl!! ......” This went on and on. The minutes seem to drag on forever as I swished back and forth across the room. How could I have been so stupid as to exchange my chores in a simple cotton dress for this torture!
Things only got worse. Soon I was skipping back and forth across the room with a “sweet girlish smile” as Auntie demanded. My dress and heavy layers of undergarments became unbearably hot as I pranced back and forth, my face flushed under my bouncy curls and straw hat. Just when I felt like I could do no more, I was allowed to sit. While I gratefully collapsed onto the sofa, Auntie clicked her tongue in disapproval. Immediately my “sitting” lesson commenced, and I was popping up and down like a jack-in-the-box, learning how to “smooth my skirts”, cross my legs properly, keep my hands folded “sweetly” in my lap, etc.
The Landlady seemed giddy with delight as she put me through these machinations. Her hands were constantly on me, smoothing my bodice, straightening my skirts, adjusting my hat, pinching my satin bottom. Worst of all I was again fully erect inside my satin sheath, which Auntie Dear noted with approval, reaching under my petticoats to pat my bulging panties.
“My my Princess, you certainly love your new dress! Auntie knew it would be perfect for you the moment she laid eyes on you!” she teased in the condescending tone adults usually reserve for young children. I felt like I was going to die from embarrassment. I had to do something!
When I looked at the clock I realized to my horror that barely two hours had gone by. I couldn't take much more of this! “Oh Auntie Dear, why must I dress like a 12 year old girl. It is too mortifying! Please let me change into something more suitable!” I pleaded with her with my eyes.
“Why I'd say you look more like an 8 year old in that dress Princess!” The Landlady's eyes flashed with mirth as she condescendingly patted me on the head. My hope immediately turned to despair. “Now Princess knows,” she continued in a lilting sing-song voice, “that she told Auntie that she would rather wear a pretty dress than do icky housework. Well Princess is going to get her wish, believe me. And our fun is just beginning poppet! Now let's get back to work.”
The day dragged on, from one indignity to the next. Mealtimes were a chore, with the Landlady tying the pink plastic bib tightly around my neck to protect my “pretty dress”, and her insistence on helping me eat when I was too slow for her liking. I could not use the bathroom without her assistance because of the pink satin penis sheath. It was so humiliating when Auntie Dear followed me into the bathroom to assist me in lowering my panties and tights to remove the sheath, and clucked her tongue knowingly when she slid the moist fur-lined tube off of my erect penis. The Landlady taunted me horribly.
“Oh darling, only a little girl who loves fancy party dresses would get such a stiff little clitty just from wearing a frilly outfit. My Princess loves dressing like a sissy, doesn't she?!!” She loomed over me as I struggled to seat myself on the toilet, holding my skirts and petticoats in my gloved hands. I was barely able to pee with my stiffy and the Landlady standing over me, staring and smiling at my predicament.
The day continued with diction lessons, the Landlady instructing me on the proper way for a “young lady” to speak. She insisted that I raise the pitch of my voice and speak in a feminine manner. I had to thank Auntie Dearest for every article of my clothing in my new voice, and tell her how much I “loved dressing like a pretty girl.”
Suddenly the Landlady disappeared for a moment. When she reappeared she was pulling on a pair of oxblood kid leather gloves and an expensive looking pair of matching designer sunglasses with large plastic frames. In her other hand was a red patent leather purse and some keys.
“Get your purse, let's go sweetheart.” She grabbed my free hand firmly and starting walking toward the front door of the house. I froze in terror.
“W-w-w-w-what are you doing! I can't go out there dressed like this!” I struggled to escape.
Mrs. Fairchild maintained her steel-like grip on my hand. She rested her purse and keys on a table and lifted my skirts and petticoats and swatted me hard on my rear.
“You've just earned yourself another spanking missy!! How dare you address me in that tone!! Now curtsy and apologize to Auntie!” She dropped my hand and waited.
Shaking, I respectfully curtsied and begged “Auntie Dearest” for forgiveness. “But Auntie Dear, why must I go out of the house?” I pleaded for her to reconsider.
“Why darling, because Auntie and Princess have an appointment at the beauty parlor of course!” I felt like I was going to faint. “Auntie wants Princess to be the prettiest girl she can be, and I know that deep down that's what Princess wants too!” I tried to shake my head no but I was acutely aware that my penis was straining inside its fur and satin prison. Every taunting word from Auntie's smiling lips was bringing me closer and closer to an orgasm. As if reading my mind, Auntie reached for my skirts and petticoats.
“Let's see if Princess wants to go to the beauty parlor in her sweet dress, hmmmmmmmmm?” She lifted my dress and revealed the enormous bulge in my panties. “I thought so!” she cooed, patting the bulge. I instantly exploded in orgasm, and Auntie gathered me in her arms and held me close as my body shuddered, my petticoats and satin dress pressed tightly against Auntie's skirt.
“Oh dear, Princess has filled her lovely sheath with squirties now, hasn't she? Well no time now, we must get to our appointment at the salon!” Completely defeated, I dutifully held Auntie Dear's hand as we left the house. Every step was pure mortification. I could only imagine how ridiculous I would look to a stranger, but we got into Auntie's car without incident. She strapped me in the back seat and drove to Henri's Beauty Parlor. We parked in back and entered the salon. The owner, Henri greeted us.
“Hello madame! And this is the little princess you've told us about!! Hello miss!” The Landlady painfully squeezed my hand, and I found myself curtsying and greeting “Mr. Henri”, my face red with shame. This caused the hairstylist to laugh loudly.
“Oh this is too rich!! Come darling, the staff is eager to meet you!” I wanted to crawl into a hole, but Auntie Dear steered me forward.
I was cringing with embarrassment as Auntie Dear prodded me into the salon. There were mirrors everywhere, and I could see myself from all angles-the ridiculous sight of a 26 year old man in a girl's white satin party frock dripping with pink bows, my bouffant crinoline petticoat swishing with every step, my legs and feet imprisoned in glistening tights and shiny patent Maryjanes, my gloved hand clutching my patent leather purse, my absurd curly hairdo peeking out from the wide brimmed be-ribboned hat. I watched my face turned crimson as Henri's staff squealed with delight, pointing and laughing and clapping their hands. There was only one other patron in the salon, a middle-aged woman who was under the dryer. She stared at me unabashedly, and waved and winked at the Landlady-they seemed to know each other, much to my further embarrassment.
But the worst was yet to come. I was led to a private room and ordered to strip. Before I could question what was happening, Auntie Dear was removing my hat and gloves and unbuttoning my dress. I stood dumbly as she removed each layer of my clothing. It was actually a relief to be free of the heavy satin dress, petticoats, and uncomfortably tight waist-cincher. But when Auntie started to remove my tights I flinched, remembering the hideous satin fur-lined penis sheath that was now saturated with my wet sticky cum.
As I shook with embarrassment, Auntie removed my panties and tights, revealing the sheath, its ribbons tied tightly at the base of my spine. She made a great show of untying it and sliding it off of my glistening member.
“Poor Princess gets so excited when she's wearing a frilly dress that she needs a little extra protection,” she explained to Mr. Henri's assistant who watched with a bemused expression on her face. The Landlady condescendingly pinched and patted my cheek. I could only stand there in my nakedness, totally helpless in the face of Auntie Dear's complete hold over me.
I was made to lay down on a massage table. I felt hot wax being applied to my legs.
“W-w-what . . .? “ Before I could say a word Mrs. Fairchild had unwrapped a lollipop and stuck it in my mouth.
“Not another word out of you sweetlips!! suck your lolly and not a peep!” The woman who was working on me, who was named Sandra, started giggling. She proceeded to give me a full body wax. I did not have very much hair on my body to begin with, what little there was was very thin and wispy, but when Sandra was finished there was not a single hair anywhere below my eyebrows. It was a long laborious process, and when she was finally finished, Sandra rubbed soothing aloe lotion on every inch of by now baby-soft skin.
Auntie Dear then eased my satin panties back up my legs and snapped the waistband with her finger. Instead of replacing the rest of my clothes, I was slipped into a lavender smock.
“Now Princess better not have any accidents!” Auntie Dear cooed to me in a scolding voice, much to Sandra's delight. I was led back out to the main salon and plopped into a chair. The manicurist, Lourdes, immediately got to work on my finger and toe nails. Monsieur Henri conferred with Auntie Dear about my hair, running his fingers through it and responding to Auntie Dear's questions without any attempt to get my opinion. The Landlady informed him that she wanted blond highlights for my hair and she wanted him to give me a permanent of “Shirley Temple” curls.
I had finished my lollipop and could not sit silent a minute longer. “Please Auntie Dear, I really don't want a permanent! I . . .” Auntie Dear gave me a stern look. Reaching into her purse, she removed her stainless steel hairbrush. I quaked with fear.
“Oh look Princess, its your favorite brush-brush. Would you like to give it a kiss pumpkin'?” She held the brush to my lips. Mortified, I mumbled “yes thank you Auntie Dear” and kissed the hairbrush. Sandra and Lourdes started howling with laughter, begging the Landlady to make me do it again, which she happily consented to.
She had gotten her message across.
After that I didn't dare say another word, and Monsieur Henri and his staff busily went to work on me. Mrs. Fairchild was also having her hair and nails done, and I watched from my chair as the manicurist shaped the Landlady's fingernails into long talons and painted them a deep lavender. I looked down at my own nails, that had now been polished a coral pink as Monsieur Henri worked on my dye-job and permanent. Soon my hair was being tightly rolled and I joined the Landlady under a large hairdryer. She smiled smugly at me and reached over, tracing a line down my arm with her freshly polished index finger.
“Don't you just love your new pink nails darling? And your hair is going to be so adorable, hmmmmmmm don't you think?” Her finger reached up to my mouth and traced my lips, I could smell the nail polish as she parted my lips with her finger and touched the tip of my tongue.
“Yes Auntie Dear,” I dutifully replied, my voice mumbled by the finger that continued to probe my mouth. Her machinations had the intended result, my smock began to tent embarrassingly in front of me. The staff all watched with growing amusement. I tried to cross my legs and the Landlady grinned at my frantic efforts to hide my excitement.
Fortunately Auntie Dear's hair was dry and she left to get her final touch up and have her make-up done, allowing me to avoid any embarrassing accidents. I spent a much longer time under the dryer until I thought my head would catch fire. Then the roller were finally removed and Monsieur Henri styled the bouncy blond curls into a juvenile girlish hairdo. The manicurist came back, and I could only watch with increasing horror as she lightly brushed some blush on my cheeks and rubbed some pink color on my lips.
I was led back to the waxing room where Auntie Dear supervised the staff in dressing me. The girls delighted in sliding the fur-lined satin tube onto my penis and tying the ribbons tightly between my ass cheeks. They tied the satin waist cincher even tighter than Auntie Dear had, and soon I was back in my crinoline petticoat, satin party frock, tights and Maryjanes. I was instructed to hold my hat and place my gloves in my purse so that everyone could admire my new hair and nail color. When I reentered the main shop the entire staff was gathered together. The Landlady smiling triumphantly, gave me a pointed look. I knew what she wanted.
My face turning red, I gathered my skirts and curtsied to the staff, thanking them for styling my hair. As I curtsied a flash went off, and I looked up in horror to see Sandra pointing a camera at me. She took advantaged of my distressed look, taking another picture. Auntie Dear had me pose for several more, and announced to the staff that I would be back for my “regular appointment.” The girls all poked and squeezed my dress, telling me how “cute” and “adorable” I looked. I had to kiss each one good-bye, including Mr. Henri, per Auntie Dear's instructions. At the same moment several new customers entered, and seemed to enjoy the spectacle of my departure enormously. Finally Auntie Dear took me by the hand and led me back to the sanctuary of the car.
I was acutely aware of the strong smell of my new permanent as Auntie Dear strapped me tightly into the backseat of the car. She seemed very excited by my new appearance as my bouffant crinolines and skirts rose up into my lap from sitting down. As she leaned over me she took my face in both of her hands.
“You are becoming such a sweet sissy Princess, and the best is yet to come.” Before I could respond she tilted my head back and covered my mouth with her lips, her fresh creamy lipstick melding with my own pink gloss and her tongue poking aggressively to the back of my throat. Then she released my face and took the wheel of the car. I was lightheaded and my penis strained in its sheath against the petticoats and skirt pressing down on it. I felt myself slipping further and further into the Landlady's satin trap and I didn't want to admit, even to myself, that I was too weak to do anything about it.
That night the Landlady produced a new matching panty and nightgown set for me. They were made of a gauzy pink material with pale yellow quilted satin bunnies adorning them. The nightgown had a short multi-tiered skirt with a yellow satin border on each tier. After Auntie Dear tucked me in, she went over to the wall and took down one of the antique dolls, a porcelain faced princess in an elaborate gown. She tucked in next to me in the bed.
“Kiss your dolly goodnight sweetheart.” The Landlady's voice was sugared in an even more condescending tone than usual. I gingerly kissed the porcelain face. “Now you and Priscilla get a good night's sleep honeybun,because my two dollies are going to have a BIG day tomorrow!” Her amused grin filled me with dread. Another big day? As my mind raced with the awful possibilities, my penis taunted me by becoming as rigid as steel inside my gauzy bunny panties.
As I lay in bed with my eyes closed, I could sense the sunlight beaming through the window. I began to be aware of a strange sensation pressed against my cheek, and when I slowly opened my eyes, a strange blue eye with long lashes in a milk-white face stared into mine. I jumped, sitting bolt upright. For a moment I didn't know where I was. Then I realized that the blue eye belonged to Priscilla, the elaborate porcelain faced doll that I had slept with last night. I reached up and felt the tight Shirley Temple curls, and the familiar feeling of dread washed over me. Worst yet, now that my private area was waxed free of even a single hair and baby smooth, every movement of the silky satin panties I was wearing felt like a slick hand caressing my already stiff member. Before I could gather my thoughts any further, my bedroom door burst open and the Landlady strode in, her face beaming and her bright crimson lips parted in a wide smile.
“Good morning Princess!” she called in a sing-song voice. “Did my angel and Priscilla have a nice sleep-sleep together?” Her voice was dripping with honey. As she pulled back the covers and waited for me to put on my slippers, I could only gaze in awe at her ensemble, which was more elaborate than her usual suits and dresses. She was wearing a tailored white suit that hugged her body. The jacket was cut in a military style, with large gold buttons. The skirt was slim and came to her knee. She had snow-white patent leather boots on with tall spiked heels and gold chains across the insteps. Her hands were encased in skin-tight white kid gloves that disappeared up the sleeves of her jacket. She had a chunky gold bracelet over one gloved wrist, a large gold ring on the index finger of the other glove, and large gold button earrings flashed at her ears. Her make-up was more elaborate than usual, her eyeshadow reaching up to her arched eyebrows, her lashes darker and more pronounced, and her full lips a bright crimson slash that was accentuated by the all-white ensemble.
“Does my precious little girl like Auntie's outfit?” she asked as I stared at her. “Maybe when Princess grows up she can wear big girl's clothes too!” Before I could respond her leather gloved hand had snapped around my elbow in a vice-like grip and she was pushing me at a rapid pace out of the room. In her high-heeled boots she towered over me more than usual as we marched down the hall. I practically had to run to keep up with her pace.
When we got to Mrs. Fairchild's bedroom I could see that, once again, numerous articles of clothes were laid out on the bed.
“Auntie has been thinking a lot about something that my adorable little Princess said to her the other day, do you remember diddums?” She reached over with her gloved hand and pinched my cheek so hard that I yelped. “You said you didn't want to 'dress like a 12 year old girl' and that you wanted something 'more suitable.' Well Princess is going to get her wish!”
With that she quickly removed my nightie and panties until I was completely naked. My freshly waxed skin felt acutely cool. She then picked up what looked like a white cloth lined with pink satin. She pushed me back onto the bed and lifting my legs, positioned the thick white clothe under me and pinned it into place with two large safety pins with pink plastic heads. It was a satin-lined diaper! Before I could get over the shock, I could feel a rubber garment being pulled up my legs. It was a thick pink rubber training panty. It was a struggle to get it over the diaper it was so tight, but the Landlady snapped the waistband into place with a satisfied smile. Next came shimmering white shiny tights that sparkled with tiny pink hearts and hugged my newly waxed legs. She then produced a hot pink satin rumba panty covered in white lambs with wide lacy hems at the waist band and leg openings and row after row of wide ruffles on the seat and pulled it over the diaper and rubber trainer.
Next came a quilted pink satin waist-cincher even more beribboned and elaborate than the one I had worn yesterday. Mrs. Fairchild made me lay face down on the bed and she placed a boot in the small of my back to lace it up so tightly that I thought I was going to pass out. I could barely breathe. In a daze, I felt a very short pink silk and lace slip being pulled over my head that didn't even cover my panties. Next came three separate stiff tulle and organza petticoats, each more elaborate than the first, that were so short that my panties were still exposed. I sat on the edge of the bed, taking small panting breaths.
“Now the piece-de-resistance!” proclaimed the Landlady triumphantly. Going to her closet, she produced a shimmering pink dress that groaned under the weight of its satin bows, ribbons, lacy flowerettes, and gleaming sparkles, but seemed impossibly short. Everything on the dress was exaggerated. The lacy beribboned collar was ridiculous wide. The ultra short puffed sleeved were enormously ballooned, with exaggerated lace trim that hung with a thicket of shiny white satin bows. The bodice was quilted in shimmery pink metallic thread that made a flowery designed and sequined, and the high-empire waist had an extra-wide pink sash that tied in the largest most elaborate floppy bow at the back imaginable. The ultrasshort pink satin taffeta skirt was multi-tiered and, despite being covered with dizzying row after row of heavy ribbons, bows, lacy trim and sparkling rhinestones, in still maintained its flared shape.
I was still reeling from being diapered, and before I could even take in half of the details of this monstrosity its heavily perfumed folds were being pulled over my head and the long row of mother-of-pearl buttons were being fastened at the back, the wide waist sash being pulled extra tightly. The dress felt like it weighed 100 pounds. I looked down. To my horror, even though the extra-wide beribboned skirt stuck out from my waist at nearly right-angles resting over the bobbing sibilant stiff petticoats, the skirt and petticoats did not even come close to covering my bulky satin rumba panties which obviously covered the rubber pants and diapers.
When Mrs. Fairchild pushed me back onto the bed, my skirts and petticoats practically came up over my head. Even though I was already wearing tights, the Landlady pulled silk anklets over my feet that had the floppiest and most elaborated lacy border I had ever seen. Then instead of the demure black Maryjanes of yesterday, she produced a pair of bright pink patent leather Maryjanes with a row of rhinestones around the sole and more rhinestones across the straps. I stood up in the squeaky shoes, my petticoats rustling with every little move. As I swayed in my new dress in disbelief, Mrs. Fairchild had gone back to the bed and produced what could only be described as a pink baby bonnet, covered with yet more bows and lace. She positioned this over my bouncy blond curls, making sure my curls were visible under the brim of the bonnet before tying the wide pink ribbon under my chin. She then thrust a pink patent leather purse, also bejeweled with rhinestones over one of my wrists and tucked Priscilla under my other arm.
“No gloves today Princess, your nails are so pretty!!” the Landlady cooed. “You see darling,” she continued, “you were right. Yesterday's dress was far too grownup for you, this is much more suitable for Auntie's darling little sugarplum!”
I had to say something, I felt like I was drowning in satin quicksand. “But, but, I didn't mean . . .!”
Before I could say another word, a devilish grin spread across Mrs. Fairchild's crimson lips and she raised something in her hand. To my even greater horror, I could see it was an extra large pacifier dangling from a pink ribbon. She popped the rubber t-t of the pacifier in my mouth and lace the ribbon around my neck.
“No another word snookums!! Now let's see your pwettiest curtsy to show Auntie Dearest how much you love your pwetty dress-dress because Auntie's little toddler has a LOT to do today!”
My knees shaking, I felt myself drop in a deep curtsy as Auntie Dear stood over me triumphantly. When I looked up and saw my image in the full length mirror, I froze as a shuddering orgasm filled my satin lined diaper.
My face was burning crimson as the Landlady pushed me ahead of her down the hallway of her house. There were so many sensations washing over me - the itchy pink ribbon under my chin which held my baby bonnet in place over my bouncy curls, the impossibly tight waist-cincher that made me take short gasping breaths, the noisy swish-swish of my bouncing petticoats around my waist, the acute feeling of nakedness of the exposed bulging satin rumba-panties covering my tight pink rubber training pants and satin-lined diaper, and the squeaking of my stiff pink patent Maryjanes shoes glittering with rhinestones as I minced daintily down the hallway. Worst of all I was forced to suck rhythmically on the t-t of the large rubber pacifier that filled my mouth, and could feel the wet slickness of my own cum inside my hideous diaper. The Landlady's snow-white stilletoe heeled boots clicked loudly on the floor behind me as she guided me down the stairs humming happily, and I struggled not to slip in my smooth bottomed leather shoes, clutching my doll Priscilla to the bodice of my beribboned frock while my bejeweled pink pocketbook dangled from the wrist of my other hand.
When we got to the dining room I began to sit down at my place when Mrs. Fairchild reminded me to curtsy smartly before doing so. After this humiliation, I sat down and Mrs Fairchild produced a large pink terrycloth bib bordered in lace that had “BABY GIRL” embroidered in red script across the front and tied it tightly around my neck. She then sat beside me. Her perfumed overpowered my senses as she leaned close, a Mona Lisa smile playing across her shining red lips. Reaching up with one hand she hooked her manicured index finger through the ring on the end of my pacifier. My eyes locked on to hers as I stared up into her face. She slowly began to pull the pacifier from between my lips until just the tip remained in my mouth. Then instead of removing it, she slowly slid it back into my mouth pressing the large pink circular guard against my lips until the tip tickled the back of my throat, forcing me to suck. She then began to idly repeat the procedure of tugging the pacifier slowly in and out of my mouth, her manicured fingernail inches from my face.
“Now Darling,” she began in her overly-honied voice, “Auntie is SO glad that her pwetty little Princess is finally dressed the way she was meant to be.” While she continued to slide the pacifier in and out of my mouth, her other hand began roaming over me, adjusting the bouncy curls peaking out from my bonnet, smoothing and adjusting the bodice of my dress, fluffing out my skirts, and then reaching down to play over my shimmery stockings. “And Auntie is sure,” she continued, her voice taking on the condescending tone reserved for small children, “that Pwincess feels the same, way. Don't you darling?” As she said this she began running the tips of her fingernails up my stocking-clad thigh, reaching higher and higher as she continued to tug on the pacifier with the other hand.
I filled with shame as I felt my penis once again stiffening inside its satin-lined prison. I tried to shake my head “no” but the Landlady used her grip on the pacifier to prevent me from doing so, pushing it deeply into my mouth so that I gagged and sucked the long t-t.
“Now sweetums, you can't fool Auntie.” As she said this the tips of her finger nails had reached the edge of my panty. “Auntie knows how much Pwincess loves her frilly dressy,” she continued, “and little diddums wants to wear pwetty frilly dresses every day, doesn't she?” The tips of her fingers had slid under the elastic leg opening of my panty and were working their way up my crotch, I could feel my penis becoming rock hard. At the same time she was working the pacifier faster and faster through the circle of my pouted lips.
“Tell Auntie that you want to wear pwetty dainty frilly dresses every day cupcake, hmmmmmmm?” Suddenly her hand was gripping the bulge of my rubber trainers while the other hand worked the pacifier furiously in and out of my wet mouth. As she continued to squeeze my diaper and rubber covered penis I could feel another orgasm building inside me. I frantically tried to suppress it, but when I couldn't turn away from the beautiful face of the Landlady, her eyes drilling into mine and her lips now parted in a wide smile as her hands worked away. “Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm?”
Suddenly I felt my head nodding “yes” as my body began to jerk and I felt more cum flooding my diaper. The Landlady mimicked the nodding motion of my head by moving the pacifier in and up-and-down motion as she squeezed tightly with the other hand. Then she withdrew the hand from under my panty and pulled the pacifier out of my mouth with a “pop”, letting it dangle from the pink ribbon around my neck.
“Well Princess,” she was positively crowing with delight as I sat there flushed and panting, “Auntie is so pleased that you want to keep dressing like an adorable baby girl. I think its a wonderful decision. In fact, Auntie can't wait to show her frilly little niece off to her friends. But first things first, time for breakfast.”
She disappeared for a moment. When she returned, she carried a tray with a large bowl of steaming mush and a baby bottle filled with milk! Placing them before me, she shoveled a heaping spoonful and filled my mouth with sickly-sweet mush.
Before I could even swallow she had another spoonful pressing against my lips.
“Dig in pooky!” Her sing-song voice filled my ears as I struggled to swallow the warm glop. What had I done
By the time the last heaping spoonful of sickeningly-sweet mush had been shoveled into my mouth, my face and bib were covered with gooey cereal. The Landlady had forced me to eat so fast that I couldn't possibly swallow before the next spoon was pressed against my lips. Without letting me catch my breath, Mrs. Fairchild picked up the baby bottle and inserted the nipple into my mouth, making me drink the entire bottle of warm formula without stopping. I couldn't help but stare at my ridiculous reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall, my pink bonnet-covered curls bouncing as my head tilted back and my cheeks sucked rhythmically on the bottle in Auntie's firm grasp. I was panting when I had finally drained the last drop.
“Oh look what a messy eater Auntie's widdle baby-boo is!” the Landlady clucked her tongue with mock disapproval after scolding me. “Auntie better get a high chair for her little cupcake or her dining room table will be ruined!” My heart froze. I tried to assure myself that she couldn't be serious but given all that had happened I had a sinking feeling that with Auntie Dearest, anything was possible.
The Landlady finally let me get up from the table, and after a bobbing curtsy and a “thank you for breakfast Auntie Dearest,” I was led to the bathroom. As I walked in my nightmare version of little girl finery with my upsurdly short multi-tiered skirts and exposed bulging satin rumba-panties, my satin lined diaper, soaked with the remains of two orgasms, clung stickily to my crotch and genitals. I suffered through the indignity of having the Landlady wash my face and hands with a wash cloth, and then touch up my blush and pink lip gloss.
“Now we better check snookum's dee-dee, don't you think poopsie!” She was now talking to me exclusively in her sing-song condescending tone, and expected me to answer in the little girl falsetto I had been forced to practice.
“Yeth Auntie Dearest!” I heard myself lisp as I nodded my head, and the Landlady could not help but pinch my cheek before she yanked my satin rumba panties, pink rubber trainers, and shiny tights down around my ankles. She unpinned the diaper as I stood there cringing, and held it pressed close to my face so I could smell my spunk and see the large wet stain in the pink satin lining.
“You naughty little moppet!! Auntie can see that Princess gets so excited about her pretty clothes that she needs her special dee-dee. Hmmmmmmm?”
Now that my hairless freshly waxed crotch was exposed, I was acutely aware that I had not used the bathroom since waking. “Ummmmmm, Auntie Dearest, can I please use the toil, uh I mean the potty?” I looked up expectantly.
Mrs. Fairchild looked at me with amusement. A dreadful feeling washed over me. Were my toilet privileges being suspended? I couldn't even imagine the alternative. Finally the Landlady gestured toward the toilet. “Does Princess have to make wee-wee?” I nodded affirmatively, blushing with embarrassment. With the Landlady standing over me, I had to mince over to the toilet, my underthings bunched around my ankles, and relieve myself. The Landlady stood directly over me, supervising me as I wiped and washed. I was then forced to mince and waddle all the way back to Mrs. Fairchild's bedroom, my undies still cuffing my ankles and my scratchy stiff petticoats tickling my bare hips so that I could lay back on the bed, my petticoats and skirts enveloping me, while Auntie Dearest pinned a fresh satin-lined diaper on me. Only then were my rubber trainers, tights and rumba panties finally pulled back up. I dropped a deep curtsy, my head demurely down and my eyes focused on my shiny pink Maryjanes and their gleaming rhinestones, and thanked Auntie Dearest for changing me.
“Your welcome bunny!! Now to show your appreciation, Auntie wants you to pratice a little song and dance. The ladies are coming over this afternoon for Auntie's bridge club, and I know how much they are looking forward to meeting Princess and watching you perform.” Before I could digest this bombshell, Auntie was reaching down to the large pacifier that still hung around my neck from its pink ribbon and inserting it into my mouth. She then walked over to the stereo and suddenly “The Good Ship Lollipop” began to blare from the speakers. Auntie Dearest sat down in a comfortable armchair and crossed her booted legs while I stood there shaking with fear. Her eyes locked on mine, her glistening fire-engine red lips came together in circle and blew me a kiss.
“Now, let's see you dance cookie!!”
“Very nice sweetums!!” Holding the lacy hem of my pink satin baby frock in my shaking fingers, my nails flashing with pink coral nail polish, I brought one pink patent Maryjanes behind the other and dropped a deep curtsy, all the while panting heavily from the exertion of tap dancing for Auntie Dearest. I felt flushed and exhausted, my hairless waxed body covered with a slick coat of perspiration in its heavy prison of silk, satin, tulle and lace. It was hard to catch my breath with the large rubber pacifier clamped between my lips.
Still lounging comfortably in her overstuffed chair, the Landlady crooked her manicured finger at me, a smug smile playing over her full crimson lips. I dutifully minced up to her and she unceremoniously patted my bulging satin rumba panty in the front, her access unimpeded by the too-short stiff petticoats and tiered beribboned skirt of my elaborate party dress that stuck out at right angles from my waist, leaving my diapers and panty in full view. Her hand made my penis, already stiff inside its satin-lined diaper, poke out uncomfortably like an iron bar.
“Ding-dong.” Just then the front doorbell rang, shattering the silence. I gave out an involuntary whimper, causing Mrs. Fairchild to smile widely as she squeezed my panty. “Wonderful, the ladies are here!! Now I expect little Princess to be on her BEST behavior, Auntie hopes she doesn't have to give snookums a spanking in front of the guests!”
With that the Landlady rose to her feet, towering over me in her gleaming white high-heeled boots, grasping my hand in an iron-grip and pulling me down the hallway. My heart was beating a mile a minute. For all the humiliation I had endured over the past several days, I was terrified of what Mrs. Fairchild's friends would do when they saw me in my hideous baby girl finery.
Stopping before the front door, Auntie Dearest started fussing over me, sliding the pacifier out of my mouth so that it hung on its pink ribbon, adjusting my baby bonnet, fluffing out the pink bow under my chin and the huge butterfly bow in the small of my back, primping over my petticoats and smoothing my skirts, ordering me to “pout” my lips and bend my wrist to dangle my pink patent pocketbook at the correct angle.
“And don't forget to curtsy sweetly and talk in your sweet little girl's voice Princess. Any misbehavior will be dealt with severely my little moppet!” With a final hard pinch on my flushed cheeks, She opened the door.
Three women stood waiting in the doorway. As soon as they saw me all three broke into enormous smiles and started chattering and talking over one another, between loud shrieks and whoops of laughter.
“Oh my she's adorable!!!! You've outdone yourself this time darling!”
“Just look at him in that sissy frock and bonnet, have you ever!!!!”
“She is absolutely delicious darling, divine, I could eat her up in one bite!!!!”
Biting my tongue with my heart fluttering a mile a minute and the blood rushing to my cheeks, I dutifully dropped three deep curtsies and pouting my lips as instructed, whispered “How do you do” in my little girl falsetto. For a moment I could see the street and feel the breeze, and I had a fleeting thought of making a break for it, running down the street in my juvenile dress and bonnet, but soon the door was closing and the four ladies were hovering over me, poking, pinching and prodding me and chattering away.
“Aren't you a precious angel!” said the first guest, a short bony woman who wore her salt-and-pepper hair in a severe short spiky style. She looked about 60, with skin like old leather, but she wore heavy blue eye shadow, mascara and eyeliner, and her lips were glossy red. She had expensive jewelry dripping from her scrawny neck, arms and fingers, and she wore an expensive black designer suit. She patted my head with amusement.
“What a big sissy you are!!! So you like dressing like a baby girl, isn't that special.” The second woman was clearly amused by my predicament. She looked like she was in her 40's tall and well-proportioned, her blond hair worn in a bouffant style. She was also dressed well, in a gold belted dress, hose, and designer pumps, and an expensive looking cashmere coat. She just kept pointing and laughing at me, making my ears burn.
“Come to Mommy darling!!” The third woman was enormous, she looked like she weighed close to 250 pounds, with her long brown hair pulled back in a thick braid. Her large moon-like face stared at me eagerly, and before I knew it she had pulled me tightly against her massive bosom, crushing me in her beefy arms. Then her eager lips found mine and I felt her huge tongue fill my mouth. I was immobilized in her bear hug. And after a lengthy exploration of my mouth she released me, patting my bonnet and squeezing both cheeks. “Oh she is too adorable, I must borrow her!!!!!” Taking my hand, the fat lady dragged me into the parlor. I could see Mrs. Fairchild's eyes twinkling with amusement.
“Let's make ourselves comfortable ladies, so that I can properly introduce you to Princess. I'm sure we're going to have a lovely time!”
I felt dizzy with fright as I was dragged into the parlor by Mrs. Fairchild's enormous friend. She sat down on the leather sofa and pulled me into her lap in one motion. My stiff petticoats and the wedding cake skirt of my satin dress popped up like an umbrella turning inside-out, revealing my bulging ruffled satin rhumba panties to the whole room. I felt the still nameless lady's beefy arm snake down between my legs, her huge warm palm grasping my panty and diaper covered crotch and pulling me tightly against her. Her squeezing hand felt for my stiff penis through the layers of diaper, rubber training pants and satin panty and squeezed hard. Involuntary my mouth opened and I moaned, feeling like i was sinking back into a big perfumed fleshy beanbag chair. As soon as my lips parted the lady inserted the thumb of her other hand into my mouth. I could feel her hot breath behind me as her lips came close to my ear. “suck Mommy's thumb precious little girl!” Her tongue flicked wetly into my ear as she pressed her big thumb deeper into my mouth, all the time squeezing me more tightly into her lap, her other hand like a steel vise on my crotch. Involuntarily i started to gag and suck on the woman's fat thumb as she continued to coo and whisper in my ear, kissing and licking it. I looked up to see Mrs. Fairchild and her two other friends seated in the cushioned chairs facing us. The two women were laughing loudly at the spectacle before them. Mrs. Fairchild has a triumphant look in her eyes, which locked on mine, as her fire-engine red lips curled into a smile. She casually crossed her white booted legs and blew me a little kiss as I struggled helplessly in her friend's overpowering grip. It was all too much. Tears of shame came into my eyes as I started to spasm in an uncontrollable orgasm, my lips sucking frantically at my fleshy captor's thumb as her other fingers curled around my cheeks, her big paw squeezing every last drop into my already soggy satin-lined diaper as i spasmed in her lap like a rag doll. “My my Princess, haven't you taken quite a shine to Mrs. Trammell! And before you've even been properly introduced!” Mrs. Fairchild and her friends all laughed as i panted in Mrs. Trammell's lap, my sissy bonnet askew over my blond pin curls, Mrs. Trammell's thumb still between the “O” of my pink lips.
I lay panting in Mrs. Trammell's enormous lap. The pink satin waist-cincher that Mrs. Fairchild had trussed in that morning made it difficult for me to catch my breath. My baby-smooth skin, still tingling from the full-body wax i had received at the beauty salon, was coated with sweat. The many layers of baby-girl finery that Aunty Dearest had enveloped me made me hot and flushed every time i got excited or exerted myself, which thanks to Mrs. Fairchild, was a constant thing. My three bouffant petticoats and the frilly be-ribboned skirt of my fancy frock were practically inside-out, the hems tickling my chin as Mrs. Trammell's fingers traced the tiny pink hearts on my shimmering white juvenile tights. Every time i squirmed in response, my petticoats swished audibly. I felt so drained and weak as a real baby. I realized that since Aunty Dearest had imprisoned me in my new baby-girl finery that morning, i had already cum three times! I could feel the new wet slickness inside my satin-lined diaper as Mrs. Trammell idly poked and squeezed me with one hand, her fleshy thumb still filling my mouth. The ladies had been gaily chatting as i lay there immersed in my predicament, but suddenly i was snapped to the present by the sound of Mrs. Fairchild's skin-tight white kid gloved hands clapping twice sharply. “Now now ladies, I'm afraid my darling Princess has been frightfully rude.” Her voice changed to the condescending honey-dripping tone She now reserved for me. “Naughty little bunny-boo!!! Aunty can see how much her precious darling loves her new friend Mrs. Trammell, but isn't my sweet little poppet forgetting her manners? Tsk-tsk-tsk!!” Icy fear shot through me. I felt that Aunty Dearest was setting me up for some new humiliation. I struggled feebly to get up from Mrs. Trammell's lap, buy i was weak as a kitten and She laughed with amusement i struggled to free myself of her casual grip. Finally, she released me, giving me a firm swat on the backside as i struggled to find my footing. The slick new leather bottoms of my squeaky pink patent rhinestone covered Maryjanes almost sent me skidding across the floor. All four ladies laughed as my arms flailed out as i attempted to keep from falling. “I can see my sweet little Princess is going to need a lot more posture training!” laughed Mrs. Fairchild to her friends. She then looked at me expectantly. I knew what to do. First i turned to Mrs. Trammell. I daintily held my dress in each hand, and cross my legs in a deep curtsey. In my best little girl falsetto i said “how do you do Ma'am? I'm Aunty Dearest's little niece Princess, i'm so glad to make your acquaintance!” I was flushed red with embarrassment, having to introduce myself to someone who had just made me fill my diaper with spunk. The enormous lady started howling with laughter. “Aren't you a polite little lady!!! And just a tasty little morsel too!!! Why don't you just call me Mommy Donna. Would you like that snookums?” Feeling Mrs. Fairchild's watchful gaze behind me, i nodded vigorously. “Oh yeth Mommy Donna, thank you tho much!!!” I curtsied again. Mommy Donna's wide mouth broke into a new grin. She looked over my head at Aunty Dearest. “You really must let me have this one for the weekend, darling!! He's a dream!” I shuddered at the thought. I turned to the lady with the severe expression an the short salt-and-pepper hair. I repeated my curtsey and introduction. She had a bemused smile on her glossy lips. You may call me Ms. Steele darling. Why don't you kneel down and kiss my shoes like a good little girly.” I stood dumbfounded for a moment. “You heard Ms. Steele, Princess!!” Mrs. Fairchild's tone was admonishing. She reached for her handbag. I immediately fell to my knees in front of Ms. Steele, and leaning forward planted a respectful kiss on the toe of each of her gleaming black stiletto pumps. I looked up, and she nodded approvingly. She reached down with one bony hand, gleaming with bracelets, rings, and the high-gloss of her deep red nail polish. Her nails were shaped into pointed talons, and the pincers of her thumb and forefinger grabbed my cheek and squeezed it until i yelped loudly in pain. Ms. Steele smiled coldly. “What a fussy little baby girl!! Maybe she needs a dose of castor oil, Amanda.” “An excellent idea darling.” I tried not to groan. I snuck a peek at Mrs. Fairchild, and to my horror, She was holding her stainless steel hairbrush in one gloved hand. She saw me peek at her. I immediately snapped back to attention and made my introduction and curtsey to Her final guest. The blond woman in the stylish gold dress looked bemused. “I'm Mrs. Adams darling. So how does a grown man feel dressed up like a 2 year old little girl in diapers, hmmmmmmmmm” She smiled expectantly. I started to stammer a reply. “I, that is, my . . . .” I wanted to answer as myself, but i knew Aunty Dearest demanded that i use the tone and vocabulary of a little girl. I grew more and more flustered, as Mrs. Adams enjoyed my obvious discomfort. Finally Mrs. Fairchild came to my “rescue.” “Never mind Princess pet. Aunty Dearest is most displeased with your performance darling.” She casually waved the hairbrush in the air. “Now before you do your little song and dance for the ladies, I think a spanking is in order. Don't you?” I stood shame faced in my frilly pink satin taffeta frock and baby bonnet. “Yeth Aunty Deareth, widdle Pwincess has been a bad girl.” I curtsied to Aunty Dearest. Holding up the hairbrush, Mrs. Fairchild smiled smugly to her friends. “Now who would like to do the honors?”
I was reeling at the thought of being spanked by one of Mrs. Fairchild's friends when I heard a voice quickly answer, “I'll do it Amanda darling.” I snapped to my attention to see Mrs. Steele with a wicked smile on her shimmering lips, her claw like hand reaching for Aunty's stainless steel hairbrush. I quailed with fright and and began to shake despite my best efforts to try to maintain my composure. My petticoats started to rustle loudly, giving me away. My obvious fright made Mrs. Steele's smile widen, and I could see that she was thoroughly enjoying herself. It became clear to me that Mrs. Steele was the most sadistic of Aunty's friends, and wanted nothing more than to make me grovel before her. She was sure to administer the most painful spanking of the lot, and I cursed my continuing bad luck. As she handed Mrs. Steele her “special” hairbrush, Aunty Dearest announced that my diaper would first have to be removed. “After all,” observed Mrs. Fairchild with a devilish grin, “I'm afraid little bunny-boo has messed herself again.” Mrs. Fairchid produced a large baby blanket, white with pink teddy bears, and spread it over the carpet in the middle of the four women. It was obvious that Aunty had carefully prepared my “visit” with her friends, and I didn't even want to think what other “surprises” she might have in store for me. As my face grew flushed, Mrs. Trammell popped up from her seat and told Mrs. Fairchild that she would “take care of me.” Without further ado, She was handling me like a toy, grabbing my legs out from under me and pushing me back onto the baby blanket. Before I knew what was happening she was kneeling besides me, unceremoniously lifting the frilly beribboned “wedding cake” skirts of my little girl's frock and the triple bouffant petticoats until they were inside out, the hems piled high on top of the sashed empire-waist of my impossibly frilly dress, tickling my chin where the ribbon of my bonnet was tied in it's fluffy bow. Then she yanked down my ruffled satin panties and and the glittering tights till they were bunched around my ankles. Then she stuck her fingers under the tight waistband of my horrid tight pink rubber training panties and rolled them down my bare legs. The inside of the rubber was slick with my sweat as they slid down my legs binding my ankles tightly. Underneath all was the humiliating satin-lined diaper, stained with the evidence of my latest deposit. “What cute widdle legs sissy has poking from her fluffy didi!!!” Mrs. Trammell smiled and clucked her tongue, slapping and pinching my legs while she began to unfasten the diaper. “I felt footsteps approach me and from my helpless position laying on my back on the baby blanket, I saw Mrs. Fairchild's gleaming white pointed-toed patent leather boots with their gold chains arrive just inches from my face. She was so close I could smell the new leather scent of her stiletto heeled footwear. Although I could not see her face looming high above me, I heard the displeasure in her voice. “Honestly, Princess hasn't Aunty taught you any manners?” I immediately realized my mistake. “Fank 'oo Momma Donna!” I squeaked in a pleading voice. But Mrs. Fairchild was not impressed. “When an adult gives you a compliment, Aunty expects an immediate thank you, even if a curtsey might not be possible under the circumstances.” All four ladies laughed at this. “But i'm afraid sweetlips,” Aunty continued in a voice dripping with honey, my naughty little angel must be punished. You will receive a dose of castor oil before each meal, and your potty privileges are suspended.” A low moan escaped me. I could hear Mrs. Steele's raspy approving laugh. Before I could take in this latest shocker, I felt the cold air hit my privates as Mrs. Trammell removed the damp diaper and held it up. “Oooooooooo looks like my sweet little vanilla cupcake enjoyed her time on Mommy Donna's lap!!” Again the ladies laughed longly and loudly. Mrs. Trammell's warm beefy hands were all over my privates. As I stared down the end of my nose at the gigantic Mrs. Trammell kneeling besides my exposed legs and privates, I saw her stop her fondling of my hairless genitals, and with a smile reach for something in her purse. She produced a small jar of petroleum jelly. “Now Mommy Donna can't put a fresh didi on sugar dumpling until Mrs. Steele gives spanky-wankies, but Mommy Donna can still get Princess ready, hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm?” With that she popped open the jar and stuck her index finger in, scooping up a bid dollop of the vaseline.” “Noooooooooooo, please Momma Donna, I ...........” As one warm hand covered my thing, the other spread my ass cheeks, and I felt the gel covered finger press against my rosebud. The pressure increased, and the slick finger entered me deeply. I gasped and, against my will began to moan and squirm. This just made the finger slide in deeper, until the base of Mrs. Trammell's hand was flush against my groin. I felt my penis hardening in her other hand, as her huge moon like face broke into a wide smile. She lowered her head till it hovered above mine, as i continued to moan and squirm as she worked her finger inside me. “My little lollipop loves her jelly-wellies, doesn't she?!!!!!!!!! Don't worry pumpkin' pie, Momma Donna will keep you nice and full!!” Her laughing face loomed above me and there's was nothing i could do but jerk around on the blanket like a helpless baby.
Momentarily i closed my eyes and forgot where i was, moaning and writhing on my baby blanket, my hips thrusting against Momma Donna's hand. I came crashing back to reality when the flash of a camera penetrated my closed eyelids. I squinted them open to see Mrs. Adams holding a camera she had just removed from her gold purse, a satisfied smile on her haughty face. As I froze in panic, looking no doubt like a deer with his eyes caught in the headlights, she quickly took another snapshot, the flash blinding me. Suddenly Mrs. Trammell unceremoniously slid her finger out of my bum and jammed it in my mouth. “Lick baby girl.” I feebly licked at her pungent vaseline coated finger as Mrs. Adams continued to snap away. Just when things seemed they could not get worse, they always did I bemoaned to myself. Finally satisfied, Momma Donna removed her finger from my lips and with a last playful slap and pinch on my already flushed cheek, she guided her enormous girth back to her sofa and sat heavily. “Get up sissy.” It was Mrs. Fairchild. I was so trained to obey that voice by this time that i scrambled to my feet, nearly falling flat on my face in the process because my rhumba panties, tights and rubber training panties were still locked about my ankles. I managed to right myself and snapped to attention without a second thought. I stood there in my pink frou-frou bonnet and impossibly beribboned pink satin taffeta little girl's party frock, my petticoats bouncing around my waist, but because my triple petticoat and wedding cake skirts were so ridiculously short, naked from the waist down for all to see. In this miserable pose, Mrs. Adams snapped several more flash pictures, as Aunty Dearest commanded me to “smile prettily.” “You said he was a graduate student at the University, didn't you Amanda?” Mrs. Adams deposited the small camera back into her purse and snapped it shut with a satisfied “click.” My head jerked around. “I'm sure his professors and fellow students have been wondering what became of him,” continued Mrs. Adams, her eyes locked on me, enjoying the obvious horror in my face. “Perhaps I should post a few of these photos around the campus just to make sure that everyone knows he's having a nice little vacation here!” A trilling laughter escaped from her exquisitely made-up lips, and the rest of the ladies joined her. I wanted desperately to say something, but could hear Aunty Dearest's admonishing voice in my head, reminding me that little girls are to be seen and not heard, that sweet poppets are never to question their Aunty or her friends. She wouldn't!! She couldn't!! She was just teasing me, no one would post these unspeakable pictures where, where everyone would see!! Everyone would know!! I was in a full fledged panic attack. I wanted to scream, to tear the purse out of Mrs. Adam's hands and run, but already I was far too cowed by Aunty Dearest's unyielding power over me. All these emotions must have been playing over my distraught and contorted face, as I struggled to get a grip on myself, my knees knocking, my hands trembling, my petticoats swishing louder than ever. My extreme discomfort was just what Mrs. Adams wanted. She came closer. “Look at you sweetie pie. A Ph.D. candidate. What are you going to be a doctor of, Sissyhood?” She laughed in my face. “I'll be sure to have one of these framed for your nursery darling.” Mrs. Fairchild moved next to Mrs. Adams and squeezed her elbow in one of her spotless white kid gloved hands. “You seem to have finally cured Princess of her nasty little stiffy darling!!!” She laughed and pointed at my bald penis, small and flaccid as a limp noodle. They both laughed. Suddenly I became aware of a steady “thump, thump, thump.” I turned to see Mrs. Steele, who had been largely quite up until now, gently tapping the back of Aunty Dearest's hairbrush against the flat of her palm. “Aren't we all forgetting something?” I quailed as she made herself comfortable on a straight back chair and then crooked her bony finger at me, the red pointed nail gleaming. She didn't need to say another word. I had to take the tiniest steps to cross the short distance to Mrs. Steele, because my ankles were still cuffed by my tights and panties. It seemed like an eternity as I wiggled across the floor. “Hold your arms daintily Princess, elbows in, wrists limp!!” Even in my torture, Aunty Dearest would not let me forget for a second that I was to be the most femmy dainty sissy I could possibly be. I adjusted my arms and continued my absurd shuffling. When I was within grabbing distance of Mrs. Steel she painfully grabbed my arms in a claw-like grip and yanked me over her lap. I collapsed, my head down, the blond curls and ribbons of my bonnet in my face. Mrs. Steele hiked up her leather skirt and clamped my limp penis between her shiny nylons, the slick fabric charged with static electricity. My legs were as good as tied, with the pink rubber training pants locked about my frothy lace anklets. Mrs. Steele grabbed the back of my neck painfully in her left hand, her nails jabbing the vulnerable skin. She laid the cool metal back of the brush against my bare exposed bum and starting drawing circles. “Are you ready dearey?” I was trying to muster a “Yeth Mithus Thteele” in my best sissy falsetto when Mrs. Adam's camera once again flashed. Before I could take this in, and before I could answer Mrs. Steele's question a whistling “CRACK!” slammed against my bum cheek. An explosion of pain ripped through me. Before I could recover another “CRACK!” slammed into me. The blows started to rain so fast it felt like one continuous searing avalanche of pain. I began sobbing loudly, tears streaming down my cheeks. Still the blows rain down, seeming to get harder and more painful as Mrs Steele expertly aimed lower down on my enflamed buttocks. Suddenly, as I continued to wrack my body with sobs, the spanking stopped. For a few seconds the pain only seemed to gather in intensity as my cheeks felt like they would literally burst into flame. Mrs. Steele's grip on my neck loosened, and suddenly she was spreading my fire-engine red ass cheeks with her sharp pointed fingernails. I yelped in pain. But the worst was yet to come As Mrs. Steele held my cheeks apart, I felt pressure against my a-hole. Before I could fathom what was happening, She was sliding the handle of the metal hairbrush deep inside me. The lubrication from Mommy's Donna's earlier probing aided in the process. Having inserted her weapon of torture into me to the hilts, Mrs. Steele unceremoniously shoved me off her lap and stood. I collapsed in a pink satin heap on the floor on my hands and knees, heaving in spasms of crying like a 5 year old, each sob causing the brush handle protruding from my crimson bum to remind me of my abject humiliation.
I lay there, heaving and sobbing, for what felt like an eternity, my satin bonnet askew on my tight blond curls, my pink taffeta dress and frothy petticoats bunched above my waist, my rubber training pants, rhumba panties and glittering tights still twisted tightly around my ankles, holding them fast. As I finally started to calm down, my breath still heaving regularly like a just spanked little child,
I became acutely aware of the weight of the metal hairbrush protruding grotesquely from my bum.
Suddenly I was aware of heels clicking across the floor. I opened my eyes, and the razor sharp points of Mrs. Fairchild's mirror-finish snow white patent leather highheeled boots were inches from my red tear-streaked face. “Lickies, honeylips. Now! I saw her gloved forefinger point downwards toward Her boots. I clutched the instep in one hand and the heel in the other and began licking the slick pointed toe, the new leather smell and taste engulfing my senses. “Tsk-tsk babycakes,” Aunty Dearest continued in an admonishing tone as i dutifully licked Her boots, “just look at you!!!
You're a disgrace!! Your bonnet and dress are a mess, you're make-up is appalling, and you're panties are all bunched up in horrid tangle!!! I can see I've been much too lenient with you Princess!!
Aunty expects her precious little darling to be a perfect little dolly at all times!” I knew that the fact that my disheveled appearance was not my fault was irrelevant to Mrs. Fairchild. I finally started to realize there was no winning this game - i was careening helplessly down a steep incline to immeasurable sissy humiliation, and only Mrs. Fairchild knew where the bottom lay. As i licked Her pointed boots, She bent at the waist and grabbed hold of the hairbrush. “Now then,” she began, and I felt Her twist the handle, which made me yelp and spasm against Her boots. The Landlady laughed, and I heard the other ladies join in. Finally She eased the brush out of me and I felt a sudden sense of relief, for the first time since this horrible episode had begun. My relief was short-lived. “Now then Princess, on your feet!! I scrambled to my knees, and then to my feet. It was difficult because of the tights and panties around my Maryjanes. I swayed a bit, as I took in the tableau of the three ladies staring at me with obvious amusement, and Aunty Dearest standing over me in complete and utter control of the situation. “As I have already observed, you are a complete mess poppet. You will have to be changed before you perform for the Ladies. Now let's get hopping up to Your room, quick like a bunny!” She clapped Her hands. Involuntarily I tried to immediately scurry after Her, so programmed was I as this point to obey Her every command without thinking. I promptly tripped over my feet, sending the seated ladies into peals of laughter. “Honestly Princess, perhaps I should just put you in a baby's romper and let you crawl about!!
Pull up your tights and panties this instant!!!” I struggled to comply, the stiff petticoats bouncing around my waist making it difficult to even see the panties. The pink rubber latex training pants were particularly difficult to get up, as they were still slick with my sweat. And when I tried to pull the tight rubber over my bottom, I yelped in pain like a toddler. My bum was still red and hot as a stove top. Ms. Steele began to laugh fiendishly at the sight of me yelping. “What's the matter babygirl, is your bummy still sore? That spanking was a love-tap compared to what I'll give you next time you misbehave!” I quailed at the thought. I tried to pull the rubber trainers up gingerly but Aunty Dearest would not allow it. “Quick as a bunny I said!!” I yelped again as I snapped the rubber trainers around my waist. Finally I was able to walk again, and I scurried after the Landlady, my bouffant petticoats swishing and bouncing loudly with each step. We climbed the stairs. I stopped at my door but Aunty Dearest motioned for me to continue following Her down the hall. She stopped in front of another door. She removed a large key from Her purse and unlocked the door. “Welcome to your new room my little china dolly!” I gasped. It was a nightmare version of a baby's nursery. A baby girl's nursery, with every shade of pink imaginable. My Maryjanes sank into the thick pile of the new pink carpeting. A monstrous oversized crib dominated the room, painted pale pink and covered with little prancing teddy bears, bunnies, and unicorns. There was an oversized changing table and high chair, a girlish dresser, and dolls and stuffed animals everywhere. Lacey pink and white chintz curtains, framed the window but did not conceal the pink metal bars set in the casement. The closet door was open, and I could see dozens of frilly baby dresses, rompers, and costumes inside. I couldn't take it all in. “Yes my sweet little baby boo.” I could hear Mrs. Fairchild's voice dripping with victorious smugness. “Little prinny is going to be the sweetest and prettiest baby girl in the whole wide world. And she's going to live with Aunty Dearest in her nursery forever!! Just wait until you see the pretty outfit Aunty Dearest has for you!!! Let's get my sweet widdle baby girl all dressed so you can sing and dance for the ladies downstairs!!”
I knew then my fate was sealed. My life as a man was over. For the rest of my life, I would be live as a little girl in diapers and frilly panties, owned and controlled by my Aunty Dearest. I lowered my head and began sobbing uncontrollably. But beneath my petticoats, my penis was growing hard again. Mrs. Fairchild smiled at my tears and swallowed me in her arms. “Such sweet tears from my pretty baby girl. Such sweet, pretty tears” she said and then pushed her tongue deep into my lipstick-covered mouth, holding me so tight I knew she’d never let me go. Never. I sobbed even harder, giving her the tears she wanted from me. I would be giving her many, many more tears from now on. Tears and cum.