Madame Fabricantfille acknowledged the applause with a bow and then continued speaking to Tom. "Trixie, the longer you spend in girly attire, the more feminine you become...in fact, you become more than just feminine, you become a sissy...what are you, Trixie?"
"I am a sissy," he replied.
"Yes, you are...a sissy is a male who prefers feminine clothes, feminine gestures, but who knows he is merely an imitation woman. And the more sissy you are, the softer you are, the more submissive you are, the more obedient you are. What are you, Trixie?"
"I am a soft, submissive, obedient sissy...."
They began to paint a feminine face over his masculine one, with foundation, eye shadow, eyebrow pencil, false lashes, mascara, blush and lipstick. In time, even with his mesmerized, glazed, vacant stare, Tom became a beauty.
"Trixie...you will never appear in public without makeup. It would be the same as being naked. And putting on makeup is a turn-on...it makes your little sissy-cock hard..."
"Yes, Ma'am," Tom whispered. "Getting hard...." And the audience clearly saw his panties tent with his erection and a wave of tittering and clapping went through the crowd.
"I think her hair is done by now," Madame said, and the attendants began to unroll Tom's curlers and, taking a brush and comb to the tresses, fashioned a lovely chin-length pageboy with bangs.
Madame held a mirror up to Tom's eyes, so he could see the result. "What do you see, Trixie?"
"I see a pretty sissy...a soft, submissive, obedient sissy..."
"Good--but we're not done yet." She beckoned again, and a wardrobe rack was rolled on, filled with the frilliest of clothes. "Time to get dressed, Trixie...."
TO BE CONTINUED