After awakening, the siblings spent the day preparing for the return of their parents. Angel wanted to be sure everything was perfect before her mother arrived. They were in Candy’s room when they heard the front door open and a voice announce, “Children, we’re home!”
“You stay here until I call for you,” Angel told her sissified brother and went to greet them. She hurried down the stairs and then stopped short at the foot. There was her mother, in her usual traveling outfit of a low-cut tank top and tight jeans. But the real shock was her father. Though she had known for years about her parents’ unusual arrangement, they had always kept some of the details secret. Yes, her mother admitted that her father spent many evenings in feminine attire…and always when they went on “retreat”…this was the first time Angel had seen him in full sissy regalia.
His hair—his real hair, she wondered—was blonde and set in waves that fell to his shoulders, with a big black bow at his crown. He wore a black jumper dress over a white linen blouse, with another large black bow at the collar. The skirt of the dress floated over layers of white petticoats that revealed his legs at knee-level—legs that were sheathed in sheer black hose and perched on white pumps with five-inch heels. “Daddy?” Angel began.
“There’s no need to call him that anymore,” her mother interrupted. “Call him by his proper name—Missy.” She looked at her husband. “Go greet your daughter properly, Missy.” He minced forward and curtseyed to Angel, before dropping to his knees and kissing her toes.
“Thank you for admitting me again to our home,” Missy said, in a breathy contralto.
“You’re quite welcome,” Angel replied. “And should I continue to call you Mommy?” she asked her mother.
“No, you have reached the age where you are entitled to address me by my proper name as well. You may call me Miranda.” She looked around. “But where is your brother? Didn’t he want to greet us?”
“I have a surprise for you as well, Miranda.” She called up the stairs. “Candy, time to come down.”
Her brother appeared at the top of the stairs, paused on the landing, and began his descent. He wore a pink t-shirt and matching pedal-pushers, his feet in pink patent kitten-heeled shoes. He gasped when he realized who the other blonde with his mother was.
Miranda smiled. “So, you finally took full control of your little brother,” she said. “I presume you used the methods I taught you?”
“Yes, Miranda,” Angel replied. “Watch—Candy is dandy.” And the sissy’s eyes glazed over, his mind going blank, as he awaited further instructions from his dominant sister. “Candy, go greet our mother as I have instructed. Oh—and I think from now on, you should address her as ‘Mumsy’.”
Candy went to his mother and took her hand, lightly kissing it. “Good evening, Mumsy. May I kiss your feet?”
“Yes, of course—Candy, is it?” She extended her right foot, and Candy bent to place his pink lips upon her sandaled toes. She switched feet and he did the same to the left one. As he rose, Miranda noted a decided bulge in his tight pants. “Goodness—have you even trained him to be aroused by submission?”
“Naturally…I had hoped to have a few more days to complete his training before you came home,” Angel apologized. “I still have to give him further lessons in muff-diving and anal reception. My friend, Dahlia, is assisting in those instructions. She wants to take him on as her personal male lesbian lover when we’re done.”
“An excellent idea…but for now, what about some basic maid training?” Miranda said. “Missy can assist with that.” She called to her sissy husband. “Missy, go to change to your maid’s uniform…and find one for Candy. He looks like he would fit in one of yours from before we got your tits put in. You two are going to serve dinner to Angel and me.”
And so, that evening, Candy got his first instruction in prancing about in a short black satin dress floating on a mass of petticoats, his legs in fishnet tights and his feet in black patent pumps with six-inch stiletto heels. Missy showed him the proper way to serve at table and to take orders for drinks. By the end of the night, both sissies were exhausted.
“All right, darlings, that will do for now,” Miranda announced after the last round of beverages were served. “Missy, help your sissy son prepare for bed and then get yourself ready as well. I will join you in our bedroom shortly.”
Candy fell asleep almost as soon as he hit the bed, but Missy knew there would be more for him to do when he joined his wife. He entered, wearing a baby-doll without panties, and took his position on the bed, face down, his pert bottom raised. From the corner of his eye, he saw Miranda come in, her strap-on dildo bouncing as she walked. “Ready to be pegged, my dear?” she purred.
“Yes, Miranda, ready and eager,” he replied, wiggling his ass in invitation. Miranda knelt on the bed and positioned her shaft at the entrance to his ass-pussy, and gently began her penetration. Once she was all the way in, she pulled back and thrust in more vigorously. Missy grunted at the feeling and then sighed with fulfillment. “Oh, Miranda! You are so good to your sissy! Do you suppose Angel has pegged Candy yet?”
“Missy! You naughty minded little minx!” Miranda said, pushing into him a bit harder. “That would be incest! She did say she gave him a preliminary lesson in cunnilingus, and has prepared his bottom with a butt-plug, but she is otherwise saving his virginity for her friend, Dahlia.”
“Mmmmm,” Missy purred in pleasure. “I’m sure he’ll have a lovely time with her.”
The next day, Angel dropped Candy off at Dahlia’s door. “Aren’t you staying?” he asked.
“No, for the next week, you’re entirely Dahlia’s, brother mine,” Angel replied. “Now, ring the bell and wait.” She drove off, leaving him on the doorstep in a classic minidress and heels. He pushed the doorbell…and after what seemed like forever, the door opened.
And there stood Dahlia, in a tight black t-shirt with the words “Domme Dyke” in white, black leather pants, and black pumps with six-inch heels, causing her to tower over Candy. “Hello, Candy,” she purred. “You look just as sweet as your name implies.”
Candy curtseyed and answered, “Thank you, Dahlia.” Whereupon, she slapped his cheek.
“You will address me as ‘Mistress’ whenever we are alone,” she corrected him. “Now, come in—we have a lot to do and not much time to do it.” She strode into the house, through the living room and to her bedroom. “This is my boudoir. You will be spending a good deal of time here—but not sleeping. Your room is next door. For now, out of that dress—I want to see what delicates Angel has put you in.”
Candy obeyed, revealing a pink bralette and matching thong. “Very good—she knew I would not want a lot getting in the way. The rest of the clothes you will need during your stay I will provide.” As she spoke, she removed her own outerwear, exposing her black lace bra and panties. She lay back on the bed, grinning. “I understand Angel gave you a brief instruction on pleasing a woman with your mouth and tongue.”
“Yes….Mistress,” Candy replied. “I found it—enjoyable.”
“That’s good—you’ll be doing a lot of it while you’re here,” Dahlia said, “and learning how to get better and better at it. I’m going to turn you into a muff-diving male lesbian slut!”
“Muff-diving?” he asked.
“Oh, you hadn’t heard that term before?” Dahlia laughed. “It’s a rather vulgar way to describe what is clinically called cunnilingus—the use of the mouth and tongue to arouse a woman. But I much prefer it, because it sounds so deliciously humiliating.” She opened her legs and pointed. “What are you waiting for? Begin!”
Tentatively, Candy crawled between her legs and began licking and sucking at her pussy. Thanks to his conditioning with his sister, he found the taste and smell intoxicating. The more he encountered, the more he wanted. But the whole thing was intensely arousing and he found his sissy-cock was barely contained by his tiny thong. He began to rub it against the bed as he worked his way deeper into Dahlia’s sex.
“Stop that!” Dahlia yelled and pushed him away. “This exercise is intended for me to climax, not you! You are to be left in humiliating, unrelieved arousal.” She thought for a moment. “Candy is dandy,” she said, and watched as he fell back into trance. “Whenever you are muff-diving, you are frozen, except for your head and neck and mouth. You can do nothing to deal with your own arousal as it inexorably grows. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mistress,” Candy replied. Dahlia lay back down and opened her legs again. She snapped her fingers to awaken him—SNAP!!—and said, “Resume.” Instantly, Candy returned to his ministrations to her sex, his own body immovable, even as his sissy-cock further engorged and his desire for orgasm increased exponentially. Eventually, Dahlia’s orgasm arrived and she bucked and writhed against his mouth, only furthering his frustration. She pushed him away and got up and went to the kitchen, returning with a small glass.
“Unfreeze,” she said and handed him the glass. “Go on, wank yourself and make sure every drop of your cock-cream lands in that glass! In the future, we will have scheduled milking sessions to do this.”
“What will you do with the glass, Mistress?” Candy asked.
“It will be saved and then mixed with your food later on,” Dahlia replied. “You will learn the taste of your own cream and, in time, grow to love it.” She took the glass to the kitchen and put it in the refrigerator. “Now, stand up,” she said on her return, “and put on the pink patent pumps you’ll find at the foot of the bed.”
Candy did as directed. “Very good,” his mistress commented. “Hardly a wobble at all. You clearly had practice at this before your sister feminized you. Walk for me, in your best sissy manner.” He began to step around the room, but Dahlia stopped him. “No, that will not do. A nice try, but it’s too normal, too much the way any real girl might move.” She paused to consider, then said, “Candy is dandy.”
Immediately, he fell back into his girly trance. “Candy, there is a chain connecting your ankles. It is just eight inches long. Any stride longer than that will cause you to stumble and trip. There is another chain about your waist and your arms are locked to it at the elbows. You can hold your arms in front of you bent at the elbow, but that is all. You feel these chains whenever I order you to Mince Little Sissy. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mistress,” he replied.
“That’s good.” She snapped her fingers—SNAP!!—and he awoke. “Now, Mince Little Sissy.” His arms moved tight to his waist, bent at the elbow and he began to walk again, the imaginary chain restricting his stride to a quick little mincing movement. It was just as sissy-ish, as overly girly, as humiliatingly over the top as Dahlia wished it to be. She kept him like that for the rest of the day, serving her in his scanties and heels, moving in tiny steps, with his arms kept in their feminine pose.
That evening, they again retired to Dahlia’s boudoir. “Tonight, I want you to lay on your back, Candy—with your head propped on the pillow.” Once her sissy was in position, Dahlia stripped off her panties, climbed onto the bed and sat on his face, her pussy carefully positioned over his mouth. “I think you know what to do,” she purred. “I think I know what you want to do.”
The training, programming and conditioning took over, as Candy began to suck and lick at his Mistress’s sex. “Yes, very nice, very erotic, isn’t it, to have my pussy so overwhelm you? Your sissy-cock seems to think so, it is growing and twitching very nicely. When you have brought me to two climaxes, I will milk your sissy-cock and add the cream to what we saved this morning. Perhaps we will mix it into your morning coffee.”
That only encouraged Candy to redouble his efforts and soon Dahlia was grinding her pussy into his face as she experienced her second orgasm. Then she collected the glass from the refrigerator and began to pump his sissy-cock. “Feel my hand caress you—up and down, up and down. It’s so much more sensuous, so soft and gentle, compared to your own wanking, isn’t it? You much prefer when I do it, don’t you?”
“Yes….yes, Mistress,” Candy grunted as his cock-cream spurted into the glass.
“Good…then we will only gather your cock-cream when I say, when I can do it,” Dahlia declared. “Now, get into your nightie, take the glass back to the fridge and go to your own room for bed.” She stretched and yawned. “I’m tired.”
After a week of this kind of training and conditioning, Candy was a totally submissive male lesbian, dedicated to satisfying his Mistress, and only being satisfied himself by her control and domination. When she was satisfied with his performance, Dahlia decided it was time to show off her work to his family. “We’re going to a visit to your Mumsy, Angel and Missy,” she told him, “but we can’t go with you in just the lingerie or nighties you habitually wear around here.”
She pointed to the closet in his room. “I give you permission to choose the clothing you wish them to see you in.” It was a test—the closet had a range of clothing, everything from perfectly normal male attire to standard teenage girl clothes to the most sissified of outfits. If he chose incorrectly, she would put him back in trance for a week and deepen his conditioning; if he picked out the right kind of clothes, she would know she had truly created her perfect companion. “I will be in the living room,” she said. “Come see me there when you have changed.”
Thirty minutes later, Candy minced into the living room, a caricature of overt femininity. The dress was virginal white with carousel horses embroidered in gold. The skirt floated over a crisp layer of petticoats, and the bodice clung to his softly rounded youthful bosom. His legs were sheathed in white hose and his feet were in white patent leather Mary-Janes with big bows on the instep. He wore his longest wig, with big pigtails at either side and an enormous white bow on top. He approached where Dahlia sat and curtseyed deeply. “Will I do, Mistress?” he asked.
Dahlia stood and hugged him, saying, “You will more than do, darling! You look simply scrumptious! I’m almost afraid to take you to see your family—Angel will want you back!” She picked up the phone. “Go get in the car, sweetie, and I’ll join you shortly.” As Candy left, she dialed Angel’s number. “Angel—he’s all ready. I’d bet he’s even more of a sissy than your father is! I can’t thank you enough for letting me have him. We’ll be there in ten minutes!”
True to her word, Dahlia pulled up in front of Angel’s home in that time. Angel rushed out of the house and gushed at seeing her erstwhile brother in his new appearance. Candy gracefully exited the car and curtseyed to his sister. “Hello, Angel,” he said, in the breathy contralto Dahlia had drilled into him, and he extended his limp-wristed hand to her.
“Oh, my, I never guessed you’d turn out to be such a simpering little girly thing!” Angel said. “Wait until Miranda sees you!” She took his hand and led him back into what had once been his home. There stood his mother, Miranda—now addressed as “Mumsy” by Candy—and his father, Missy. Miranda wore a black leather floor-length gown that did nothing to hide her shape; Missy was in an extreme corset that reduced his waist to a mere 19 inches and pushed the flesh of his chest into a realistic cleavage and 36-C mounds.
Candy curtseyed to his Mumsy and delicately air-kissed his feminized father. “Dahlia, you’ve done wonders with him,” Miranda said. “I’m envious—now I’ll have to work even harder on sissifying Missy, here.” She looked her son over carefully. “You have trained and conditioned him in all the proper…techniques?”
“Of course, Miranda,” Dahlia replied. “Would you like a demonstration?”
“I’d love one—just let me get out of this gown, first. Missy, come assist me.” She and her husband retreated to their bedroom. When they returned, Miranda was in just a black bustier, sheer black hose and patent pumps…and no panties. She took a seat on the leather recliner. “Now, that I’m on what we call my ‘throne’ around here, I’m ready.” She spread her legs and pointed to her crotch. “Candy?”
Candy looked to Dahlia for permission and she nodded. He sank to his knees and buried his face in his mother’s sex. In no time at all, she was moaning in pleasure. Angel whispered in Missy’s ear…and the adult sissy dropped to the floor beside Candy, reached into the younger man’s panties and began to stroke his sissy-cock. “No climax for you until Miranda has at least two orgasms,” Dahlia advised, as she went to the kitchen for a glass.
As she returned, it was clear Miranda was already on her second climax and Missy was pumping away at Candy’s sissy-cock. As it began to spurt, Dahlia placed the glass in position and caught every drop and glob of his massive ejaculation. Candy sat back and smiled, and Dahlia placed the glass to his pink lips. “Here you go, sweetheart—you know you want to,” she said, as she poured the cock-cream into his mouth. He licked his lips and smiled again.
Miranda looked on, grinning, as she turned to her feminized husband. “Guess what you will be doing from now on, my dear,” she said. Missy’s eyes went wide as he nodded, to acknowledge her order.
They had a lovely dinner together, with Missy and Candy serving. Miranda looked at Angel. “You will have to find yourself a male to sissify and train now,” she told her daughter. “Any prospects?”
“I’ve had my eye on Candy’s friend Alistair…he looks the type—even more than Candy did,” Angel answered. “When school starts again, would you like to help me with him, brother dear?”
Candy thought a moment and smiled. “Oh, yes, I would very much like to have a sissy friend to go along with my sissy Daddy!”
So it was that, on the first day of school. Dahlia and Angel led “new” student Candy to the registrar’s office. Candy was dressed in a modest but still sexy schoolgirl style—low-cut sweater, tight miniskirt and boots. “You look good enough to eat,” Dahlia whispered to him.
“Let’s hope Alistair agrees,” Candy replied. “There he is!” He pointed to a slender dark-haired fellow with full lips and an aquiline nose.
“Goodness, Angel,” Dahlia noted. “He’s already half-way there…look at how those jeans cling to his ass! You won’t have any trouble turning him into—what did you decide to call him when you’re done?”
“Allison,” Angel replied.
THE END
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