Ickle Girly

Never Alone

Hannah McKnight discusses howwe all learn about who we are:

I never, EVER thought there was something “wrong” with me or with wanting to wear lingerie and dresses, but I knew that this was a side that should be a secret. It wasn’t easy to keep it hidden, however. When I was younger it wasn’t easy trying on my sister’s dresses without arousing suspicion. No matter how carefully I hung things back up I was always paranoid that someone would figure it out. Not only was there a chance I would be caught and someone would know, part of me wanted to tell someone. Why? Well, it was fun. It still is.

The day I learned the word ‘crossdresser’ was the day I knew that I wasn’t alone. When I was around twelve years old a friend told me she saw an episode of a talk show about crossdressers. I asked her what a crossdresser was and she told me it was a man who wore women’s clothes. I can’t tell you how significant of a moment that was. I wasn’t alone. There was a word for people like me. It was… affirming, it was reassuring. It was a word I could use to describe who I was, and who I am.

When I was a little older and into my teen years, I found an issue of Cosmopolitan my mom had. It wasn’t hidden or anything, just another magazine along with the tabloids in our living room. If I remember correctly, there was an advice column in the issue where a woman wrote in asking a question about her husband. She described how they were invited to a party for charity where husbands and wives dressed as each other. She went on to describe how this… awakened something in him and from then on he wore a lot of her clothes. She went on to say when he returned home from work he would put on one of her dresses and soon had his own. He adopted a femme name, too. Overall the letter was very positive, they both seemed to enjoy and be comfortable with this new aspect of their relationship.

The advice columnist went on to reassure the letter writer that there was nothing wrong or weird about this couple. He was a crossdresser and she was a supportive wife. He wasn’t the first crossdresser, or the only one, and he certainly wasn’t the last. Again, I wasn’t alone.

And neither are you. I am guessing we all have moments like these growing up that told us we weren’t the only ones who wore, or wanted to wear, heels, skirts, makeup, and lingerie. But if somehow you grew up never experiencing anything like this, let me reassure you are not alone. I am like you.

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Dinner Guest

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Love, Honor, and Especially Obey--Part Two

 

And so It went for the next week, until Lionel arrived at Madame Fabicantfille’s office for his second session. “Bon jour, cherie,” she greeted him. “Let me see what you’re wearing.”

Knowing exactly what she meant, Lionel stripped to his panties—baby blue boy-shorts with lace all around the edges. His already engorged cock only grew more at the humiliation of showing himself this way. “Tres jolie,” Madame exclaimed. “Please sit down.” Once Lionel was comfortably seated, she said,
“Surrender to my feminine will,” and he fell into trance once more. “Now, tell me about the last week.”

Lionel complied, and when got to the part about his arousal at seeing Vera suckle Anna, and his hands strayed to his own nipples, Madame smiled. “Ah, oui,” she agreed, “our breasts are, indeed, a most delightful plaything. What a shame you do not have any….” But with that, she went to a cabinet and came back with a set of false tits. “Of course, you could have these….”

Even in trance, Lionel’s eyes were riveted to the pair of latex knockers, clearly at least C cups. “Stand,” Madame ordered, and he rose as she moved behind him and brought the appendages up to his torso. She pressed them against his chest, smoothing the adhesive to his skin. They were weighted perfectly and shook and bounced appropriately when he moved.

“Touch them,” she said, and he brought his hands to the nipples. “These are your breasts, your jugs, your knockers, your boobs. You feel them just as if they were part of you. Tweak the nipples and a thrill moves through you. If they are sucked on, you become aroused.”

Lionel smiled at the thought of having such a magnificent set of tits. Now, when he made lesbian love to Vera, they could each enjoy the thrill of having their boobs be a part of the play. Madame grinned…Vera had requested exactly this reaction—it was why she had spent the week with the voluptuous Anna.

“Of course, such lovely boobs require support,” Madame explained, as she produced a bra. “This one is a push-up bra,” she explained. “It will enhance the cleavage of your tits, cherie.” She wrapped it around him, adjusted the straps and presented him to the mirror. “There, now you are a bit further on your journey to being Vera’s perfect lesbian spouse.

“Get dressed and leave, coming out of trance as you exit, with no memory of the details of this session, but knowing you now have a bouncing pair of boobs that will require the appropriate attire. Stop on your way home to purchase two dozen bras in various colors and styles.”

Lionel did as he was ordered, and when he arrived home, he found Vera alone. “Hello, dear,” she said, smiling. “Well, I see something new has been added. Show me.”

Obediently, Lionel removed his shirt, revealing his large tits in their blue push-up bra. Vera walked behind and put her arms around him, her hands landing on the nipples of the faux breasts.  Lionel wriggled at the sensual touch. “Oh, you like that, do you?” Vera teased. She reached inside the bra and tickled the nipples directly. Lionel’s lips parted and he gasped. “So sexy, to have a lover with boobs and  a cock—even if he is forbidden to use the latter,” she went on.

“Come with me to the bedroom,” she said, disrobing as she went. “I’ll be naked when I get there—but I expect you to still be wearing that bra and those panties.”

Lionel entered Vera’s boudoir and found her naked on the bed, legs spread to best display her shaven pussy. She smiled and merely pointed with one elegantly painted finger to her crotch. Lionel crawled onto the bed and buried his face there, savoring the smell and taste of her arousal. Soon, his tongue was hard at work on her clit, increasing that arousal (not to mention his own). When he had brought her to three crashing climaxes, she beckoned him to her side.

“I want to play with those glorious new boobs of yours, darling, and see what reaction I get,” she teased. She began massaging his faux tits (knowing full well that he would hypnotically feel it all as if they were real), then undid the bra and tweaked the nipples with her nails. Each little touch sent a shiver down Lionel’s body and straight to his sissy-cock. It twitched and throbbed and enlarged, until it threatened to tear right through the lace of his panties.

Finally, she stopped, leaving him desperately panting for final release….but it was not to come—at least not at her hands. Instead, Vera reached to her nightstand and picked up a pair of panties. She held them before Lionel’s face. “Breathe deep, sweetie,” she said. “These are the pair I’ve been wearing all day—they are full of my aroma and juices.” She balled them up and said, “Open wide,” and when he had complied, she stuffed the flavorful undies into his mouth.

“Now, go to your room and bring yourself off. Breathe in and taste my sex as you do. Play with your sensitive titties as you do. And when you have loaded your own panties with your cock cream, you may use them to replace the ones in your mouth, and go to sleep sucking on our combined juices.”

Lionel arose, went to his own bed, followed her instructions, and when he was at last exhausted, fell happily to sleep as a submissive lover.

Over the next week, Vera had a different guest in her bed every night. Lionel participated in bringing both Vera and her bedmate to arousal and orgasm. And each night ended with Vera’s aromatic and flavorful panties in his mouth as he pleasured himself and fell asleep.

Then came the morning of his next session with Madame Fabricantfille. Vera made sure he was dressed appropriately, in a tight-fitting, low-cut feminine t-shirt and stretch jeans. His feet were in pretty pink flats with bows on the instep. “Come along, darling,” Vera said. “We don’t want to be late.”

“’We?’ Vera, will you be seeing Madame this time as well?” Lionel asked.

“Oh, yes,” she replied. “At this stage, she has requested my immediate reactions and input to the final steps in your training.”

When they arrived at the counselor’s office, they were greeted enthusiastically by the receptionist. “Mr. and Mrs. Demanden,” she giggled. “Go right in, Madame Is expecting you.” Vera led the way into the inner office and, when she saw Madame, rushed to greet her with a warm hug and a sensuous kiss.

“Oh, I just love what you’ve accomplished with my Lionel!” Vera gushed, as Lionel stood dumbfounded. “Are we almost finished with him?”

Madame smiled in response. “Just about.” She walked up to Lionel, looked him deep in the eyes and said, “Surrender your will to me….” Instantly, Lionel’s eyes glazed over and his body became weak and empty. He collapsed into the chair behind him. “There, now we can speak openly, cherie.”

She led Vera to the couch and they sat side by side. “Now, let’s be clear about where we want your little lezzy hubby to wind up.”

“I want him to be entirely feminne,” Vera declared, “except for his sexual organs, of course. It’s far too much fun to play with them occasionally…or to watch him play with them. But all his desires and all his sexual arousal should come from his activities as a male lesbian—and he should be totally submissive to me!”

“Do you still want him to present only as a woman from now on?” Madame asked. “No chance for him to show up as male at all?”

“None whatsoever,” Vera said. “He doesn’t yet know it, but I discarded all his male attire over the past week, while he walked around the house only in his bras and panties. When we return, I’ll introduce him to his new style—all lace and frills and bows, as befits a silly submissive lezzy!”

“Actually, we can begin that here,” Madame explained. “I have the proper clothing in my wardrobe department.” She turned back to Lionel. “Lionel, Vera wants you to live as her ultra-girly lesbian bedmate for all time. You want to please Vera, don’t you?”

“Yes, I always want to please Vera,” he murmured.

“Good girl!” Madame replied and the two women watched him wriggle in pleasure. “Then remove those clothes and let’s begin.” Lionel stood and stripped to his bra and panties. “All of it, cherie,” Madame remonished. “We have special undies for you from now on.” He took off the lingerie.

Madame went to her wardrobe and came back with a selection of clothes. She handed a dainty, lacy pink garter belt to Vera. “Help him into this,” she directed. Vera took the wispy thing and wrapped it around her husband’s hips. “Now, let’s put some sexy stockings on him for the first time.” The nylons were sheer and pink and Vera easily rolled them onto Lionel’s legs, and snapped them taut on the garter straps.

“Beautiful!” she exclaimed. “He really does have gorgeous legs!”

“Indeed he does,” Madame agreed. “Tres jolie!” She produced panties that matched the garter belt, with lace and bows at the appropriate places. “Lionel, you know what to do with these,” she said as she handed them to him. He pulled the delicate undies over his loins and ass, and his sissy-cock immediately reacted. “Ah! See how his petit cock grows in his panties!” She gave the matching bra, also dripping with lace and with a big pink bow between the cups, to Vera. “Make sure this supports those lovely knockers properly!”

Vera stepped behind her increasingly feminized spouse and wrapped the bra around him, making sure his breasts were settled into the cups. Then she adjusted the straps and clasped it in the back. Coming back to the front, she tweaked his nipples through the lace and watched him shiver in arousal. “You know, Madame, I think I shall have to get him some real tits…so I can watch those lovely nipples really grow big and stiff.”

“As you wish,” Madame said. “When you are ready, I can recommend an excellent plastic surgeon!” She spoke to Lionel. “Come sit at the vanity, cherie. It is time to make you truly a tres jolie fille!” He did as requested and Madame began her cosmetic work. She started by plucking his eyebrows into a feminine arch and followed with an application of foundation. Next she went to work on his eyes: a bright white shade directly under the brow and a deep pink on the lids, blended upward into the white; it was followed by eyeliner and mascara, and then a set of very full false lashes, top and bottom.

Blush followed, a rosy pink shade and then she began shaping the lips into a cute kewpie-like pout, colored into a pink closely matching his eyes.

While all that was happening, Vera worked on his nails, creating an elegant oval on each finger, also painted pink. “What a shame we didn’t do his toes before we put him in the hose,” she said. “Oh well, I can do that at home.”

 “Time for the dress,” Madame announced. “And I have just the concoction for our prissy lezzy sissy!” From the closet she produced a pink floral frock with ruffled sleeves and a short pleated skirt over a petticoat. It was precisely the “little girl” look Vera had in mind…and the sparkly platform stilettoes just made the whole ensemble incredibly sexy.

“Lionel looks adorable…no, no, that just isn’t right, “Vera began. “He can’t be Lionel Demanden anymore. He took my surname when we married, but he needs an identity of his own—or her own—from now on.”

“Hmmm…Leona as a first name?” Madame suggested.

“Excellent,” Vera agreed, “and something suggestive and salacious for her new surname? What do you think of ‘Liksall’? Isn’t that appropriate for a pussy-obsessed male lesbian?”

“Absolument!” Madame nodded. She took the newly christened sissy’s head in her hands and directed her gaze to Madame’s. “You are now Leona Liksall, a submissive male lesbian, devoted to your spouse-mistress Vera. Lionel is no more. You remember him, but you have no desire to be him. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Madame, that is clear,” she answered in a girlish, giggly tone. “I am Leona Liksall.” And she licked her lips in a lascivious manner.

“Well, I think a birthday party of sorts is in order,” Vera decided. “Madame Fabricantfille, would you like to join us? Leona will be providing the…entertainment.”

 

THE END

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Archelle: Regina's Style

Special Treatment

Following the Ordinance

Why a Slut?

Bimbo Conversion

Baffled Bunny

Love, Honor and Especially Obey, part one

“Well, Ms. Demanden, tell me your problem,” said Madame Fabricantfille to her new client.

 

“This may seem odd to you, Madame,” Vera Demanden began. “I have recently come to the realization that I am quite definitely a lesbian. My encounters with female lovers have been very intense and satisfying. However, I remain very much in love with my husband, Lionel, and have no desire to leave him. In fact, I’ve discovered that he is most skilled at cunnilingus, now that I’ve refused him any other form of intercourse.”

 

“So, what Is the issue, then?”

 

“If I am to remain married to Lionel, I want him to become more feminine, more submissive. I want him to be as dedicated to sapphic love as I am…but without his having to undergo transgender surgery,” Vera explained. “I want my male spouse to become my lesbian lover.”

 

“I see,” Madame Fab, replied, crossing one elegant leg over the other. “And you have heard of my success in feminizing reluctant males?”

 

“Yes!” Vera said, enthusiastically. “I ran across an article about your process on a lesbian website, where the author was very pleased with the way you altered her entirely macho fiancé into what she termed a ‘male lesbian.’”

 

“Is that what you wish Lionel to become?”

 

“Yes, but also devoted only to me. I had a thought that he could become, well, addicted to my pussy juices,” Vera explained, “so that the mere aroma or taste of my arousal would bring him to the edge of orgasm. And, quite frankly, that he would be unable to climax unless I allow it.”

 

Madame nodded. “All quite do-able,” she assured. “I take it you will want him to display as a female? At least at times?”

 

“Oh, not just ‘at times,’ always. I want a beautiful piece of arm-candy to stroll into the lesbian bars and clubs with,” Vera said.

 

“It would be best if I could see a photo of Lionel before I agree, to be sure the desired appearance is achievable.”

 

“Certainly,” Vera said, reaching into her purse and presenting a photo of her husband.

 

“Yes….yes….he is an excellent candidate for feminization,” Madame Fab noted. “He has a slender physique and quite fine features. Later, we can discuss just what sort of woman you want him to appear to be.”

 

“Thank you, Madame,” Vera said. “Shall I make an appointment for him now?”

 

“Definitely. I look forward to putting him under my spell…..”

 

One week later, Lionel Demanden found himself seated in the waiting room of Fabricantfille Counseling Services. He was the only man in the room. There were two other clients, both female, and a female receptionist. Actually, the receptionist seemed to be even more than normally feminine—she wore lacy and frilly attire (including what seemed to be a crinoline petticoat under her skirt), her cosmetics were bold but still attractive, and her manner was flirtatious. She smiled and batted her long (artificial?) eyelashes at all and sundry, no matter their gender.

 

On the other hand, one of the waiting clients was just the opposite. Though she was fashionably dressed, she seemed decidedly uncomfortable in her clothes. She was constantly adjusting things, taking out her compact to check her appearance, and was especially uncomfortable in her heels.

 

There was a buzz at the desk and the receptionist said, “Mrs. Larsen, Madame will see you now.” The uncomfortable client rose, took a moment to be sure of her balance on those heels and wobbled her way to the door and inside.

 

Twenty minutes later, she emerged, seemingly a much-changed woman. She walked with confidence on her heels and with a decided girlish wiggle to her hips. She smiled at everyone and even gave an air kiss to the receptionist.

 

A moment later, there was another buzz at the desk. “Mr. Demanden, Madame will see you now,” the receptionist cooed, smiling and batting her eyes once more. Lionel rose from his chair and walked to the door to the inner office. He knocked and waited until the door lock clicked open.

He stepped inside and stopped for a moment in surprise. If Madame Fabricantfille’s profession was saving marriages, she had an appearance that was more likely to break them up. She was tall, over six feet in her stiletto heels and she had a statuesque shape to go with her height. She wore a satin blouse in a lilac shade, with the buttons open enough to show off her cleavage. Her black pencil skirt clung to her hips and thighs and ended six inches above her knees. Her makeup was impeccable and her auburn hair was curled into a stylish ‘do. “Come in, cherie,” she said in her French-accented voice, “and have a seat.”

 

Lionel realized he had been staring, shook himself, and took the indicated chair. Madame sat opposite him—quite close, actually—and continued. “As you know, I have already had an interview with your wife, Vera, and so I know a great deal about you and your marriage. I know you have agreed to have only oral intercourse with her, in deference to her newly discovered sexuality.”

 

Lionel was dumbfounded. Vera had actually revealed all that? “Yes, Madame,” he admitted. “But it has left me very frustrated. My only sexual relief now is masturbation.”

 

“Really? You get no pleasure from servicing your wife’s pussy?” Lionel was shocked to hear the vulgar term in this setting.

 

“Well, some perhaps…I do love Vera and I am always happy when I give her pleasure….”

 

Hmmmm, that’s a good beginning, Madame thought. “Well, Lionel, I believe I can help you feel even greater pleasure, if you permit me.”

 

“Yes, Madame, I would like that very much,” Lionel replied eagerly. “My only desire is to continue to make Vera happy and to happy in our marriage myself.

 

“Merveilleuse!” Madame said, as she pushed a button by her chair and a pink light began to pulsate behind her. “We can begin the treatment now. Just look directly at me and listen to my voice.”

 

Lionel did not find it difficult to keep his attention on Madame’s captivating green eyes and sensual voice. Doing so also kept his gaze on the pulsating light which slowly affected his brain waves, slowing them down, altering their pattern to a hypnotic one. “Just relax and let everything wash over you like a wave, Lionel,” Madame purred. “Feel your will seep out of you, feel your power to resist grow weaker, feel the need to surrender grow stronger….”

 

Lionel’s breathing slowed, his pulse rate lowered, until both were in time with the pink light. He began to blink in time with it as well, his eyes wide open when the light was brightest and closed when it went dim. “That’s right, cherie,” Madame continued, “all your bodily functions are in my control now. Feel your little male thing throb in time with the light, feel your arousal grow with my words, and feel your will connect with mine, as I make you my puppet.”

 

She watched as his head grew heavy and his chin fell to his chest, his eyes fluttered and closed, his mouth fell open and a soft sigh escaped. “Lionel, tell me, do you like the idea that Vera is a lesbian?”

 

“Yes, Madame,” he murmured in reply.

 

“Do you like making love to her with your mouth and tongue?”

 

“Yes, Madame.”

 

“Do you like watching her make love to another woman?”

 

“Yes, Madame.”

 

And Madame Fabricantfille observed with each of those suggestive questions how Lionel’s cock twitched and throbbed. Bien, she thought, it will not take much to turn this one into a submissive little male lesbian servant….

 

Madame went to her desk and produced a pair of lacy panties. “Lionel, please undress and put these on…” He obeyed without question, and Madame watched as his cock throbbed once more at the idea of wearing the feminine item. Once he was wearing them, she said, “Go lay on the couch, face down…” Again, he followed instructions immediately.

 

She sat beside him and began stroking his ass through the panties. “It feels good to wear such girly things, doesn’t it, Lionel? This is the proper way to dress when making love to your lesbian wife, isn’t it? After all, if you’re going to have sex like a pretty girl, you should dress like one, isn’t that right?”

 

“Mmmmm, yes, Madame,” he murmured in reply, the words almost lost with his face buried in the cushions.

 

“Roll over now, Lionel,” she said, and he complied. She saw that his cock was now bulging the panties. She began to stroke it. “This is how you feel when you eat Vera’s pussy, isn’t it, cherie? Or when you watch her and one of her feminine lovers together? You get so aroused, but you have no release, no orgasm, do you?”

 

“No, Madame,” he admitted.

 

“But you are happy and satisfied nonetheless, because Vera is experiencing pleasure, aren’t you? Your pleasure is unimportant, all that matters is that Vera is pleased,” she continued.

 

“Vera’s pleasure is all that matters,” Lionel agreed.

 

“Bien,” Madame said, smiling. “Sit up and look at me.” He complied. “From now on, girly panties are all you will ever wear, because you will always be ready to make love to Vera. What do you wear, Lionel?”

 

“I wear girly panties, Madame.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I am always ready to make love to my wife, Vera.”

 

“Tres bien!” Madame said. “Now, put your outer clothes back on. You will awake from trance as you enter the outer office. You will not remember details of our session, but you will obey and follow all the directions I have given you. On your way home, stop and buy two dozen pairs of the sexiest, girliest panties you can find—in your size! Return next week for our next session.”

 

Lionel rose, dressed and left. Madame picked up the phone. “Vera? He’s on his way home now. Yes, the session went very well. Give me five more weeks and he’ll never think of himself as a normal male again.”

 

Lionel arrived home to find Vera snuggled up on the couch with her latest paramour, Anna, a gorgeous brunette with killer tits. Just the thought of what they might have been doing before he came in (or might do later in the evening), had Lionel’s cock throbbing in his panties—something Vera couldn’t ignore.

 

“Horny, honey?” she asked, smiling, as Anna giggled. “Let me see…..”

 

His submissiveness enhanced by his session with Madame Fab, Lionel removed his pants without objection, revealing his erect penis in the lacy panties the hypnotist counselor had supplied. “Oh, Vera—isn’t that just the cutest?” Anna cried, pointing. “I think he wants to be one of us!”

 

“Of course, he does, Anna,” Vera replied. “Why do you think he’s become such a good cunt-licker for me?” And then she noticed the big bag from Victoria’s Secret Lionel had brought in. “Show me what you’ve bought, sweetie.” Lionel opened the package and laid out the 24 sets of panties he had purchased—boy-shorts, thongs, full-cut, all in various pastel shades and covered in lace and bows. “Well, those obviously aren’t for me,” Vera observed.

 

“No, dear, I’m going to wear pretty panties all the time now,” Lionel admitted, blushing.

 

“No need to be embarrassed, darling,” Vera said. “That’s exactly the way my little muff-diving man ought to be dressed.” She picked up a pair in pink with a big bow in front. “Why don’t you change into these and then bring Anna and me our dinner---wearing just the panties of course.”

 

Lionel complied and sat in just his panties through dinner. After dinner, Vera and Anna went to the bedroom and Vera beckoned him to follow. “Sit there,” she ordered, pointing to straight chair. She tied him to it with silk scarves and then the two lesbians assisted each other in disrobing. They lay on the bed and began their lovemaking in front of the bound man in panties. As he watched helplessly, his cock grew larger and larger in those panties, his arousal bringing him near to orgasm. The smell of the women’s arousal only added to his frustration. He was surprised to find the element of their sex play that brought him the closest to climax was watching Vera suckle on Anna’ luscious jugs. Finally, when they had satisfied themselves. Vera got up, untied him, and said, “Go one, sweetie,  go to the spare room and wank yourself. Have a nice big spurt, but be sure to clean up when you’re done. You can sleep in there tonight.”

 

Lionel did as directed and did, indeed, have one of the most enormous ejaculations of his life…but his most amazing discovery was that he was even more aroused if he teased his nipples as he jerked off, imagining Vera’s mouth and tongue on his breasts as they had been on Anna’s. He cleaned up and then collapsed in a sex-dream-filled sleep, with the two women taking turns as his lesbian partner.

 

TO BE CONTINUED