Monday, February 17, 2014

Petticoat Control

[This story marks my first attempt at a completely original tale in the classic "Mom made me a girl" genre. (I consider "Stepton High" to be not quite in that mode, and "Sissy Forever" is partially adapted from a pre-existing work.) In some ways, although I can be as turned on as any submissive TV by the adventures of young transformed lads, I've always been a little uncomfortable writing about them myself.]

"Roberta, would you come here, please?"

A moment later, a pretty girl of about 13 entered the room and curtseyed to the assembled women's group. She wore a short peppermint-striped skirt over a froth of petticoats, a white blouse with a red bolero jacket. On her feet were white ankle socks with lace at the cuffs and white patent-leather maryjane shoes with a one-inch heel. Her hair was a blonde bob, topped with a red hat that matched her jacket.

"You called for me, Mother?" she asked.

Ignoring the rhetorical question, Mrs. Sunderland continued her remarks to her guests. "Yes, ladies, this is Roberta, who many of you knew only three years ago as my son, Robert. I know you wonder how I was able to transform that raucous uncontrollable boy into this lovely thing in such a short time. Let me demonstrate."

She turned her attention to the child. "Under my spell," she began, "Robert is completely subject to any commands or suggestions I make." With her first words, a light went out in the girl's eyes, her head dropped to her chest and her body slumped. "That trigger phrase re-established the hypnotic trance state I first used on Robert three years ago today. I periodically put him back under to reinforce the control and to check on the status of the boy side of my child."

There were some puzzled looks and a murmur of questions. "Oh, yes," Mrs. Sunderland assured them, "Robert still exists and knows everything that has happened to him. That sense of humilation, of his complete transformation and loss of control to me, is an important part of the process." She spoke to her once-son. "Robert, when did I first hypnotize you and put you in dresses?"

"On my tenth birthday, three years ago today," he answered.

"Of all the things you have experienced in that time, which has been the most humiliating?"

"My weekly trips to the beauty salon," he responded, "where you allow me to know all that is being done to me, without being able to prevent it."

His mother smiled. "And I know you also get some sexual excitement from the changes and experiences you have undergone. Which is the most arousing?"

Again, Robert answered, "The beauty salon visits."

"You see," she said to the women, "I have used my hypnotic control to forever link submission and humiliation to sexual arousal for Robert. Even should I ever let him appear as a male again, he would never want to be the same chauvinistic bully you and your daughters remember. Rather, he would all but beg to be of service to you and them."

"The spell is broken," she said--and the bright-eyed Roberta returned. "Would you get the lemonade and cookies from the kitchen, dear?" Mrs. Sunderland asked, and the obediant transformed child skipped off to carry out her duties.


A few days later, Mrs. Sunderland had a single guest, Mrs. Porter, for further inquiries into Roberta's remarkable condition.

"And she'll do anything you ask?" Mrs. Porter inquired.

"With the proper conditioning and trigger phrase, there's almost nothing Roberta would refuse me," Mrs Sunderland answered. "I believe she would stop short of violent crime, but that is something I'd never request of her, anyway."

"She'd perform sexually?"

The question surprised Mrs. Sunderland. "Certainly you're not suggesting an incestual relationship between us? Or that you desire one with your own son?" she gasped.

"Oh, no!" her guest assured her. "I was actually thinking of usng your technique on my fiance as well, soon to be my Edward's step-father." She stopped for a moment. "Not that I don't trust you, but could I see a demonstration?"

"Of course."

Moments later, Roberta was again in the room, this time in a darling white satin suit with a matching pillbox hat. "I have established a phrase that triggers all of Roberta's sexual desires. Combined with a verbal description of her clothing and its effect, the result can be most intriguing."

She looked directly at the child, now seated cross-legged on the floor. "Smooth and silky," she said. Almost immediately, Roberta's hand strayed to her crotch, beginning a rhythmic caress of her hidden privates. "Look in the mirror, Roberta, dear. See the shiny smooth satin of your dress, how it reflects the light? See the frothy lace of your petticoat? How it rustles as you move your hand beneath your skirt." Roberta's hand moved more rapidly. "Not too quickly, my darling--you don't want to finish before Mother gives permission." The movement slowed, but remained steady. "Feel the silk of your panties rub against your big sissy thing," her mother continued. "Feel it grow and get hard. Look at your face in the mirror, as your lips redden and your face grows flush from your arousal."

Then, when it was clear that Roberta could refrain from coming no longer, Mrs. Sunderland gave the final command: "Now, Roberta, come and tell me why you are coming!"

"I'm a little petticoated sissy and I love it!" Roberta cried, as her panties filled with her cum.


Six months passed. It was time for Roberta's junior high graduation dance. For it, Mrs. Sunderland allowed her her first "grown-up" dress, nylons and heels. The dress, a little black number with a froth of lace at the hem, revealed the boy-girl's shapely legs, perched on three-inch black pumps. Roberta's face had been prettied with makeup.

Just as she was about to leave, Mrs. Sunderland said, "One last thing, Roberta. Midnight chimes."

Instantly, the person in the lovely dress was not Roberta, but Robert. He stumbled awkwardly in the heels. "Why, Mother? Why now?"

"I wanted you to have one last chance to be a boy, in mind if not in body, my dear," she answered. "If all goes well, over this summer, I will begin making physical as well as mental changes in you." His eyes widened in shock. "No--nothing that drastic. But you should begin high school with a very nice pair of petite little tits. Won't that be lovely?"

The transformed boy looked unsure. "Bibbity-bobbity-boo," his mother said, chuckling.

"Oh yes, Mother!" Roberta answered, poise and control once again hers. "I'd love to have tits to show off!"


[Don't forget to choose the woman you'd prefer to be (details here)!]

1 comment:

Linda Marie Daniels said...

Thanks for posting this story. Well done.