Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Petticoating the Boss, Chapter Three: Stephanie Goes Shopping

[I'm overdue on posting this. Apologies.]

The two young women, each stylishly dressed but in opposing fashions, strolled through the suburban mall.


The tall blonde with the short-cropped hair was clad in leather: black leather jacket over a royal blue satin blouse and a tight black leather miniskirt revealing nearly seven inches of her black nylon-sheathed thighs. Her shoes were black kid pumps with six-inch heels.


Her companion was dressed in a flowing, flowery silk print dress in lavender and blue. It, too, had a short skirt with gentle pleats. Her splendid legs were covered in sheer nylons and hints of her stocking tops and garters showed as her skirt flounced around her thighs. Her shoes were blue sandals with seven-inch heels, revealing her coral-painted toenails that matched her perfectly manicured fingernails. Her auburn hair hung in gentle waves to her shoulders.


As they passed various stores in the mall, Angela (the one in leather) often pointed out particular outfits on display, telling Stephanie how lovely she would look in such a dress. Stephanie would giggle and simper, amused that her companion found her so attractive. Onlookers would have thought some of the clothes that Angela suggested were rather unusual, for they included a little girl's party dress and Mary Janes, a fanciful maid's uniform in a costume shop and a revealing satin teddy in a lingerie display.


Inwardly, Angela was laughing her head off. Stephanie, once her insufferable boss Steven, was helpless to have any other reaction to this little window-shopping excursion. When Angela had dressed the newly submissive TV in this floral print design, she had impressed upon him that it was the type of clothing that a bubble-headed society deb might wear--and so Stephanie was forced to act just that way.


But behind that facade, Steven still knew who he was--and he could not believe all that had changed in his life in the past two days.


The morning after Angela first imposed her will on Steven, she tiptoed quietly into the bedroom where he was tied down, an intravenous line dripping a combination of feminine hormones and suggestibility-heightening drugs into his system. She carefully lifted the headphones off his ears--the headphones that had filled his mind with her carefully prepared commands all night--pulled out the IV and untied the satin scarves that held him to the bed.


"Wake up, Stephanie," she called quietly. His eyes fluttered for a moment and then he smiled at her--a sweet, feminine smile, despite the absence of makeup and long hair.


"Good morning, Mistress," he answered in a soft, husky, well-controlled contralto. "How may I serve you?"


"We have a busy day ahead of us, Stephanie," Angela said. "You have an appointment at the beauty salon--and we have lots of outfits for you to try on. Climb out of bed, sleepy head, throw on that peignoir and slip your feet into those mules. It's time for breakfast."


The half-feminized male followed his erstwhile assistant to the kitchen. Angela had a whopping big breakfast of toast, bacon, eggs, juice and coffee...while Stephanie had to be satisfied with just a half grapefruit and coffee. Angela was determined to whittle the already slender Stephanie down to a 22-inch waist and a size seven dress.


Since the beauty salon appointment was at Mistress Margaret's, Angela knew she needn't worry about how outrageous she chose to make Stephanie's appearance for the day. Margaret's clientele knew all about domination and forced crossdressing; indeed, many of them delighted in it.


After breakfast, Angela pulled out a lacy pink party dress for Stephanie. Though adult-sized, it was clearly of a style intended for a girl of nine or ten, featuring as it did a pink satin sash with a big bow and puffed sleeves. Beneath it, Stephanie would wear ruffled pink panties, three stiff white taffeta petticoats, knee socks and black patent- leather Mary Janes.


As each of the little girlish articles of clothing was placed on her, Stephanie felt her self-image shifting. No longer the submissive adult lover, she thought of herself as Angela's little sister--still completely submissive to the older woman's will but no longer in an erotic fashion. She was, in her mind, a child--and children always obey their elders.


However, the effect of the clothing on the adult body, still padded out to attractive feminine proportions, was decidedly erotic. The 36-inch breasts showed their curve under the pink lace bodice, while the long legs, with their womanly curves and smooth, hairless thighs, were shown to excellent effect under the short skirt and petticoats.


And for a dominant with an urge to feminize her males like Angela, the unadorned male face with the short hair above the ultra-feminine, ultra-childish garments was doubly erotic. Angela felt her own pussy getting hot and wet as she gazed on this creation, her own little Galatea.


"You're just the sweetest thing, little Stephy," she told the dominated man-girl. "But it's time for you to get even sweeter. Come with me." She forced Stephanie's hands into lace gloves and handed her a small black patent purse to carry. Then, without a care as to what any of Steven's neighbors might think, she took the childishly dressed TV by the hand and led him out of the apartment and down to her car.


Moments later, they were in Margaret's shop. "Hello again, Angela," the dominant beautician greeted her warmly, with a firm, wet kiss on the lips. "And this must be Stephanie! Well, you come with me, darling, and we'll have you looking as pretty as can be in no time."


Angela smiled as she watched the adult-sized little girl mince off behind Margaret. She had already given her instructions as to how Stephanie was to be transformed, so she settled back in one of the waiting room chairs, opening one of the many magazines devoted to female dominance and transvestism that Margaret kept available for her special clientele.


Back in the "transformation room," Margaret stripped Stephanie down to her lingerie, which reasserted her more adult persona. After a facial, Margaret began applying the cosmetics--dark brown mascara, eyeshadow in a range of shades from pale blue to deep purple, a rose blush (heavily applied for the embarrassed look so many of the dominants preferred on their TV slaves), and deep red lipstick. At the same time, one of Margaret's own TV slaves, a lovely thing named Karen, manicured Stephanie's hands and coated her nails with a double layer of polish, in a shade that matched her lips. Then Karen stripped off Stephanie's shoes and knee socks and performed the same function for her feet and toenails.


The last step was the wig that Margaret had prepared. Since Steven's own hair was still too short for the right effect, this auburn creation, its shoulder-length curls close in color to his natural hair, would substitute for the next few months. Margaret carefully fitted it in place, did a few touch ups and then called Angela in.


The new dominant was ecstatic. "Oh, Margaret, she's beautiful! More lovely than I could have dreamed she would be!"


She turned to her crossdressed boss. "Stephanie, it's time for you to get dressed again--but I've brought a new outfit for you." She produced a pastel lavender and blue floral print dress, its lines flowing and loose, with a short, pleated skirt.


As Stephanie let it fall over her head, Angela described the type of woman who would wear such an outfit. "This dress is designed for the young debutante, the girl who never works in her life. Indeed, she is incapable of holding down a job, she's such a ditz. Her only pleasures in life are shopping and spending money, especially on herself."


With each word, and with each swish of the new dress against his skin, Steven's mind was altered into the new version of Stephanie. The posthypnotic suggestions that Angela had impressed upon him were working--every piece of clothing he wore as Stephanie changed his persona. Now, as he slipped on the seven-inch heels that went with the flowery dress, he became this ditz-queen deb.


Angela handed him the purse, filled with the cash she had removed from his bank account the day before, and announced, "Stephanie, let's go shopping!"


"Oh, yes, Angela," Stephanie squealed in response, "let's go!"


So, now, after about an hour of traipsing around the mall, Angela steered her companion into a store with a fascinating name: "Jessica's House of Fantasy."


"Hello, Trish," Angela called to the young woman behind the counter. "Stephanie, Trish here is just like you--a girl who used to be a boy." Both of the submissive TVs blushed at having their secrets so revealed. "Is Jessica about?" Angela asked.


"She's in the back, laying out the clothes you asked her to prepare, Mistress Angela," the pretty brunette replied. "Shall I summon her for you?"


"Don't bother, dear," Angela replied. "I know the way. Come along, Stephanie." She led the way through a curtained doorway in the rear of the shop.


Jessica was a middle-aged woman who maintained a youthful figure and outlook on life. About three years ago she had transformed her son Patrick into the lovely Trish, now 20 years old. In addition to serving as counter girl, Trish also often acted as a model for her mother's unusual clothing collection.


Today, Jessica was dressed in a low-cut white silk blouse and skirt combination, her excellent legs perched on five-inch heels. Her salt-and-pepper hair was twisted into a tight French braid, revealing her elegant neck with the gold choker around it. "Angela, darling!" she cried. "And is this Stephanie?"


Stephanie blushed once again in acknowledgement, extending her hand as she had been taught. The older woman took the TV's hand in hers and pulled Stephanie to her embrace, then planted a full, wet kiss on the man-woman's mouth, her eager tongue probing deep within. Unnerved, Stephanie found herself responding to the kiss and felt her cock grow within her panties.


"OK, Jess, that's enough," Angela interrupted. "There'll be plenty of time for both of us to enjoy Stephanie's charms tonight. Right now, we have to find some clothes for her."


"Of course, Angie," Jessica answered. "How about this?" She held up a white satin blouse and shorts outfit. "Just the thing for a picnic--or gardening."


"Terrific--let's see her in it." She ordered Stephanie out of the floral print dress and the lingerie she had worn since leaving the house that night. Now totally naked, Stephanie's psyche became a blank slate, waiting for the clothing and Angela's description of the woman who wore it to write her personality upon it.


Jessica produced a pair of plain white panties and a white demi-bra for Stephanie to wear beneath the minuscule outfit. The white satin shorts were extremely brief and tight, nearly hot pants. They revealed Stephanie's smooth, hairless legs from just below the ass cheeks. The matching blouse had but three buttons, so that it hung open in a V to just below her breasts. Its short sleeves left her arms uncovered as well. The finishing touch was a pair of white sandals that strapped on, showing off Stephanie's extremely feminine feet with their twinkling red toenails.


"This is a great outfit for a teenager to wear on a picnic, isn't it, Jessica?" Angela noted, beginning the personality change in Stephanie.


"Or for a trip to the mall, so she can attract the attention of all the hunky boys," Jessica suggested, knowing Angela's plan. Unable to do anything about it, Steven felt his psyche shift again, becoming younger, giggly, full of youthful spirits.


"Yes, but any girl who would show herself off like this must be something of a slut," Angela went on. "Maybe even a bit of a cocktease."


That did it. The new Stephanie was born. With every ounce of her being, this girl wanted sex, but on her terms. She would lead a boy on until he was begging for her body--then she would give him only what she pleased.


Jessica laughed, "My god, that's amazing! Why I could literally watch her whole personality change before my eyes." She picked up a black spandex outfit, so small it looked like a belt with a small skirt attached.


"Oh, that's the hooker look," Angela explained. "Combined with the sheer black nylons and garter belt and the seven-inch heels, it'll make her eager to sell her body to any man or woman who offers money.


"But that persona has already been established by my tape last night. Let's see what else we can come up with."

More to come

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