Utterly Girly

A Typical Day

Sissy Salon Submission

TranceCon, part 3

After the demonstration, Eva and the Demandens returned to their suite. “Time for bed, dear,” Vera announced, handing Eva a tiny pink baby-doll nightie.

“Oh, thank you,” Eva yawned, “I’m exhausted!”

“Time for bed, but not sleep,” Amanda corrected him. “At least not yet. Vera, you’re the eldest—I guess that means you get him first?”

“Yes, indeed,” Vera agreed. She slipped out of her satin gown and led Eva to her bed. There, she lay on her back and spread her legs, providing access to her pussy. “Eat me, darling….”

“Eat you?” Eva asked. “You mean….?”

“Muff-dive, dear…lick my pussy…make me come with your lips and tongue….” Vera explained.

Eva crawled into place and began to follow directions. He found he enjoyed it more than he imagined, the aroma and taste of Vera’s aroused sex was intoxicating. Soon, Vera was writhing and moaning in ecstasy as her orgasm washed over her. But she clamped her thighs together as her hands held Eva in place until the domme had experienced three more climaxes. When she released him, Vera told Eva, “Go wash up in the bathroom. Amanda will be waiting for you.”

Moments later, Eva entered Amanda’s boudoir, to find her naked on the bed. Amanda rolled over on her back and displayed her magnificent breasts to the sissy. “Come here, Eva. Your task is to suck on my titties as I jill myself to orgasm—multiple times.” Eva obeyed and lay beside Amanda, taking her left boob into his mouth. Amanda moved her right hand to her pussy and began to finger herself. “Oooh, very good, Eva,” she moaned. “Now do the other one….”

In a very short time, Eva felt Amanda shudder from climax. He stopped long enough for both of them to catch their breath and then Amanda guided his mouth again to her right nipple and said, “Use your tongue more this time, dear.” Eva performed as directed, first on the right tit and then on the left, as Amanda frigged herself even more furiously. After she came this second time, she wiped her juices off her fingers onto her nipples. “One last time, Eva….and now my knockers should be really tasty!”

With the added stimulant of Amanda’s aroma and flavor, Eva found his own arousal increasing. He desperately wanted to come, but knew he must not until granted permission. Finally, Amanda pushed him away and, like Vera before her, said, “Go wash up and then visit Sophia!”

Once again, Eva obeyed and found Sophia sitting on her bed, naked except for a harness and dildo not unlike the one used on Peggy in the demonstration that morning. “Kneel on the bed and put that lovely ass in the air. I’m about to fuck your virgin sissy ass-pussy!” Sophia announced. With trepidation, Eva took up his place and Sophia positioned herself behind him. She literally tore the panties from his hips and then lubricated her rubber shaft. She held his hips as she plunged the phallus deep into his ass.

“Uhhhh….oooooh!” Eva grunted then sighed as the cock penetrated.

“You like that?” Sophia asked. “Of course, you do—all sissies long to be fucked just like a girl!” She began to move in and out, in a primitive rhythm, the base of the harness rubbing against her own pussy and increasing her arousal. Soon, Eva was moving in time with her and moaning as each thrust seemed to go deeper within him. Sophia noted that his cock was growing erect. “Bet you wish your little thing was as long and thick as mine, don’t you?”

After screwing his ass for several minutes…and having at least three orgasms herself….Sophia withdrew. “Now, roll over and let me give you your reward,” she said. She began stroking his cock. “You see, whenever you please us, we will respond with a milking, letting you have a big of erotic satisfaction as well.” In no time, Eva’s cock exploded and Sophia caught all the cream on her fingers. She plunged her sticky digits into Eva’s mouth and said, “Lick it all up…sissies love the taste of their own cream!” And Eva discovered he really did.

“Now, clean up and return to your own quarters,” Sophia said. “Get a good night’s sleep—you have a big day ahead.”

The next morning, Eva awoke to a gentle tapping at his door. He threw on a negligee and opened it, to find the Demanden sisters waiting. “Good morning, Sweetie,” Vera greeted him. “We’re here to start the final stage of your transformation…and we’ve brought some help.” The three stepped aside and a fourth woman came forward. She was clad in a crisp white uniform-like dress and carried a large case. “This is Belle, the head stylist and cosmetician at the ship’s salon.”

Belle smiled and looked closely at Eva’s face. “Yes, he has a wonderful face for feminization!” she said. She strode in and went straight to the room’s vanity and set down her case, opening it to reveal a full kit of cosmetics and brushes. “Now, come here, Eva,” she called. “We have lots of work to do.”

Eva sat in the vanity chair. The sisters took seats around the room, but before Belle could begin, Amanda got up and stood before Eva with the pendant. “Sleep,” she said and Eva’s eyes glazed over in trance. “Observe and remember everything Belle does. From now on, you will be required to do it for yourself.” Amanda stepped back and let Belle take over.

Belle began by cleansing and exfoliating, then began applying foundation, choosing one that closely matched Eva’s own skintone. “I don’t think we’ll need contouring,” she said as she worked. “He already has very fine, very girlish bone structure.” She moved on to trimming and shaping his eyebrows into a modern, but feminine style. Next, she started defining his eyes, beginning with a highlighting tone in pale blue under his brow ridge. Then she applied a darker, deeper shade of blue to his eyelids, sweeping the color in a wing-like shape to the outside.

Belle followed the eye color with black eyeliner, just enough to make his eyes seem larger, wider, rounder. Next she applied false lashes, lush thick ones on the upper lids and spiky ones on the lower. The final touch on the eyes was using the lash curler. That was followed by making his lips into a pretty pout with hot pink lipstick and a coating of gloss, for an inviting moist appearance.

She picked out a rosy blush to apply to the high points of his cheek bones. “Every sissy should have a lovely look of embarrassment and humiliation at all times,” Belle observed.

She opened another box and revealed a wig in honey blonde with highlights. It was just a little more than chin-length and slightly curled. “I think that’s cute, don’t you?” she asked the Demandens. “Of course, in a few months when his hair has grown out, you can choose a color and style for it.”

Amanda produced the pendant and again dangled it in Eva’s eyes. “Wake up, dear,” she said and his eyelids fluttered with their new lashes. “What do you think?”

“I’m gorgeous,” Eva exclsimed, “and really girlish!”

“And we’re not done yet,” Vera said.

TO BE CONTINUED

Mistresses in Control #624

Transformation Salon

Forced Female Transformations #301

Bob-Cut

Never Play Favorites

Mag Cover #1

Though I didn't get to dress, I still wanted to play around some with images...so I decided to work up a fake magazine cover. I started by looking at a couple of the sites online that let you do this with "real" magazines, but I felt they didn't give enough ability to manipulate the image once it was uploaded.

That meant doing it all on my own...which I did. All the typography on this image was done by yours truly.




Anybody want me to make them into a cover girl? Just ask!

Male Junior Miss, Part Two

I wore heels all the time and these and narrow skirts made my walk very feminine. A waist cinching garter-belt and constant exercise whittled my waist while my limbs and body became soft and rounded. I even developed in a way that was very embarrassing. I tried to hide it, but by the end of the summer I could wear a 34-C cup brassiere without any padding. Donna then told me that every inch of her 38-22-37 figure was her own and that I had been getting hormones in my food just as she had.

With my heart in my throat I asked, "How long are you going to be a girl now that you're out of high school?"

"Momma wants to keep me in dresses until I turn 21," she answered, not looking at all bothered by the idea.

I would rise early in the morning, put on my maid's uniform, and fix breakfast for Aunt Millie and Donna. Then I had to make all the beds and clean the house until noon, when I again cooked lunch for my aunt and whatever guests she might have invited over. After washing the noon dishes, I would change and go to my job as a cashier in the cosmetics department of the local drugstore. Almost every woman who came in asked to see Beverly, the boy salesgirl. They all seemed to be thrilled by the idea of a boy being made to wear girls' clothes, and several said they might try it on their own sons. I soon ceased to be embarrassed at being referred to as a "boy-girl".

But other things remained embarrassing. The cosmetics manager delighted in using me as a model for some of the teen-targeted products, especially lipstick. She would sit me on the high stool by the counter and twirl the lipstick up until the color was revealed. She'd hold it before my eyes and say, "Now we'll give you beautiful red lips, Beverly," and then, as the color was applied to my mouth, I'd feel my cock swell inside my panties. The teen girls who were looking for makeup would point at the bulge under my skirt and giggle.

When the time came to go home I was almost sorry to become a boy again. However, I was getting a bit ahead of myself as I soon found out.

My mother had promised that I could get out of dresses if I behaved myself that summer, but she insisted on seeing me as Beverly first, so I had to fly back home dressed as a girl. Mother and Linda met me at the airport. "My, how pretty and feminine you've become!" Mother exclaimed.

"If Beverly had been here all summer, I would have had to hide her from my boyfriends!" Linda laughed.

They showed me off to their girlfriends and I was embarrassed all over again as the women teased me. They made me style my hair, put on make-up, even model several dresses for them all the while commenting on how completely feminine my actions had become. In the middle of the "show," as I was dressed in a flirty little black party dress and the highest of my many heels, Mother casually said, "Of course, Beverly is Bob." Instantly, I lost my footing and nearly tumbled to the floor. All my poise and training as a girl seemed to disappear. Mother and Linda smiled conspiratorially at their guests. "Beverly is beautiful," Mother said, and I again knew how to handle myself in the feminine attire.

Most of the women were amazed to learn that my figure was real and that my pretty hair was my own. One lady told me I should never cut it as it was too lovely to wear short.

The next day was Registration Day at school, but sophomores didn't register until afternoon so I thought I had plenty of time to get a haircut and get back into boys' clothes. For some reason I found that I couldn't completely discard my feminine finery, so I put on a pair of powder blue nylon panties with lace trim and opened my suitcases.

To my horror, every suitcase was filled, not with the clothes I took to Aunt Millie's, but with dresses, skirts, blouses, and girls' underthings!

My mother came into my bedroom and handed me a pair of very tight girls' jeans, a white blouse, a pair of knee-high nylons and a pair of black patent shoes with three-inch heels and told me to put them on. Puzzled, I obeyed her order, donning a bra first.

The slacks felt strange to me. They were the first pants I had worn in three months and the shoes had the lowest heels I'd worn all summer. The slacks zipped up the side and the blouse buttoned up the back, but I was used to that. The clothes did nothing to conceal my figure.

Mother then brushed my hair, turning the ends under so that I had a chin-length Page Boy and bangs that nearly reached my eyebrows.

"Now you're all ready to go down to school and register for your fall classes!" she said.

"Go register? Like this?" I exclaimed. "You promised I could be a boy again!"

"No, I didn't!" she laughed. "I only said you could wear pants again. I didn't say what kind of pants!"

"Everybody will laugh at me and tease me!" I cried. "The boys will call me a queer!"

"It's no more than you deserve." she answered. "After all the trouble you've caused at school, I think they are entitled to see your punishment!"

She drove me down to register and at first no one recognized me. But when mother told them my right name and requested that I be registered as "Beverly," everyone clustered around. Mother explained how I had spent the summer and said she was sending me back to school like this. All the teachers loved the idea! To my surprise, the principal looked me over, expressed her approval and said that more boys should be put into girls' clothes.

The first week of classes was hell. The boys teased me unmercifully, and the girls asked embarrassing questions about my lacy panties and lingerie and giggled at the answers. Everyone called me Beverly, and I was instructed to use the girls' bathroom. Even worse, some of the staff seemed to have instructions from my mother to reinforce my feminization.

On Wednesday, the school nurse called me in for an examination. She had me remove my blouse and carefully looked over my breasts. I tried to cover them up, still ashamed by my budding tits, but she stopped me by saying, "This is important, Beverly." As with Aunt Millie, it suddenly seemed as if her words were the only thing I could hear or understand.

"Beverly, you must be proud of your breasts," she said. "You might even want to sometimes go braless and let their sassy little nipples show through your blouse. Don't hide them, display them." Then she reached inside my bra and played with my nipples, making then stiff and tingly. "Doesn't this make you feel good?" she asked. Once again, I came in my panties, sure that I would never hide my breasts again.

The second week, pictures were taken for our yearbook and Mother made me wear a black- and-white print dress with a flared skirt and petticoats, matching pumps with six-inch heels, and my hair permed. When the other kids in school saw how easily and naturally I walked in a skirt and extreme heels some of them began to wonder out loud if I was really a boy. The teasing got worse when they discovered the stud earrings in my ears and I went home in tears.

By Christmas my hair had grown so long that it reached my shoulders, but mother forbade me to cut it. When she caught me trying to trim it, she said I would have to wear dresses for the rest of the school year! She even got special permission for me to wear nylon stockings and extreme high heels to my classes!

When I went back to school in a sheath and heels, with my hair arranged in curls and waves on the top of my head the teasing got positively vicious. I told my mother I couldn't take it anymore, and she gave me a choice. If I continued in my regular school, I could resume wearing girls' slacks at the end of the year. If I didn't want to do that, she would send me to a girls' school, but if I went there, I would have to wear dresses all the time for the next three years!

I tried to stick it out, but after another week of wearing girls' clothes and feminine underthings in a public school where everyone knew I was a boy, I broke down. With tears of shame and defeat in my eyes, I begged my mother to send me to the girls' school.

The girls' school was much better. There, only the teachers and some of the upper classwomen knew I was a boy and the girls treated me like one of their own. Some of the senior girls did more than that. My roommate in junior year, a senior named Cynthia, delighted in using her knowledge of my secret to control me. Like many other women in my life, she seemed to be able to influence me just through the use of certain phrases.

Cynthia loved to lay beside me in bed, completely naked, and stroke my breasts, legs and cock with the satin of my nightgown. "Beverly is my smooth sissy lover," she would coo to me, over and over, keeping my cock hard as a rock and making me want desperately to taste her pussy endlessly.

Because of the lost year in High School, I was 19 before I graduated. During the three years there I became even more feminine. I learned the arts of cooking and sewing and became especially good at hairstyling, so good, in fact, that the school saw that I received training for it. My own hair I allowed to grow. It grew so long that I had the longest hair in school. Due to strenuous figure training I lost an inch in the waist and gained an inch in the bust. With my 38-19-36 shape and my waist-length hair I certainly didn't resemble in the slightest what I really was--a boy.

At the Graduation Ball, I wore a white satin dress that followed my curves all the way to my ankles. It had a halter neckline with a keyhole over my breasts and showed a good deal of cleavage. Even in my five-inch heels I was shorter than most of the other girls in my class, and much smaller than any of the boys from the Military Academy nearby. I had my black hair piled up on my head except for a single long roll curl that fell down my back to my narrow waist. From my ears drop earrings swung to chin level and a simple chain and locket encircled my neck.

Returning from the girls' school I spent the first week home as Beverly at mother's request. Cynthia joined us there and made it clear she wanted me as her lifelong companion. Mother's friends had difficulty believing that I was her son, and the lady who told me to let my hair grow made me let it down so she could run her fingers through it. She was jealous when she discovered it was longer than hers. After the first week mother said I could return to boys' clothes if I wished, but she wouldn't let me cut my hair until I was 21.

I wasn't too eager to go back to pants, but I decided that since I was a boy, I should. It didn't work--I looked like a very feminine boy or a girl trying to pass as a boy. Cynthia was furious when she saw me in male clothes. "This is important, Beverly," she began. "You cannot wear male clothes......"

THE END?

Male Junior Miss, Part One

[About a year ago, I posted here a rewrite on a decades-old story from Astounding Transvestite Tales called "Sissy Forever". After I'd done that one all those years ago, I came across another old story that I thought could be reworked to fit within my familiar themes. Here it is:]

It was the last day of school. I had just completed my sophomore year in high school and now I was free for the summer. I was a little frightened about what my mother would say when I told her I had been left back a year because I had flunked too many subjects, but I knew how to take care of that: I would be 16 in two days and I planned to quit school.

I hated school. The studies weren't too hard, but I had been barred from most school activities. The coach said they didn't need football or basketball players who only stood 5 feet 2 inches tall. Most other activities such as cheerleading and tennis were reserved for girls. I tried to copy the other boys in every way I could, wearing the same clothes and letting my hair grow, but I could not copy their height. Even most of the girls towered over me. As a result, I was always cocky and getting into trouble. I failed my studies, because I simply refused to do my homework.

As expected, Mother had a great deal to say about my flunking. My older sister, Linda, just stood there with an "I-told-you-so" expression on her face while Mother bawled me out.

The next morning I was greeted with a surprise. "Bob, I'm sending you to stay with your Aunt Millie for the summer," Mother told me. Aunt Millie lived in California, almost a thousand miles away, and I had seen her only once in my life. She had visited us nearly six years before with her son, Don. I remembered him as a small, dark hellion. In fact, seeing what Aunt Millie let him get away with was probably what made me so hard to get along with.

In no time Mother had me packed, drove me to the airport, and put me on a plane to California. I arrived late in the evening and Aunt Millie took me straight home and put me to bed.

At breakfast the next morning, I experienced the first of many shocks. As a pretty maid served us breakfast, Aunt Millie told me what was in store for me. "There's only one way to keep a problem boy like you in line--you will dress and behave as a girl for the summer!" she announced. "I suggested this to your mother when I heard of the trouble you were in. Petticoating you will straighten you out just as it has Don."

"You mean you made Don wear girls' clothes for a summer?" I stammered.

"Somewhat longer." she replied. "Who do you think served us breakfast?"

At her words, I looked more closely at the pretty maid who by then sat at the table with us. She wore a black sheath, stockings with seams, and matching heels. Her hair was arranged in a pile of curls on top of her head, her ears sported pearl stud earrings, and her face was perfectly made-up, very pretty, and familiar. I suddenly recognized that this lovely girl was my cousin Don!

"How long has he been a girl?" I asked.

"Donna has worn dresses for six years now." Aunt Millie continued. "She's 18 and will graduate from high school tomorrow. You will be there--as her girl cousin.

"Now get ready to go downtown." she ordered. "You'll need some clothes and you have an appointment at the beauty parlor."

At the dress shop, I was horrified to discover that all the salesgirls seemed to know what my aunt had planned for me because I was required to change into girls' clothes right there in the store. They all seemed to know that Donna was a petticoated boy and they called both him and me "boy-girls." It was a small town and I wondered if the whole town knew about Donna.


The salesgirls provided all manner of clothes for me...and all of them as feminine as possible.

They decided my legs were my best feature, so all the outfits had short skirts and were accompanied by very high heels. Even with my hair and face untouched, it was clear I was going to be an attractive girl.

In the beauty parlor I was given a trim, a shampoo, and a permanent. While I sat under the dryer, the attendants brought me a drink. I began to feel quite drowsy and comfortable. When I awoke, the prospect of wearing girl's clothes no longer bothered me quite as much. I was still positive it would not really change me, but something had changed. I just wasn't sure what.

My eyebrows were plucked, make-up applied, and my ears were pierced. Aunt Millie refused to let me look in a mirror until we got home. When I finally did see myself it was quite a shock. Aunt Millie brought me into the room I would share with Donna, and stood me before a full-length mirror.

"Beverly is beautiful," she announced. So Beverly was to be my name. Something about those words stirred a reaction in me. I looked in the mirror and felt my sexual arousal beginning. I was a girl. I wore a beige shirtwaist dress with coffee-colored nylons and matching beige pumps with four-inch heels. My black curls covered my head, just allowing my earlobes to peek through. My lips were pink and my curled, mascara-covered eyelashes framed wide-open brown eyes. "Why, you're even prettier than Donna Aunt Millie exclaimed.

The following night I attended the graduation. I wore a lemon yellow suit and white four-inch heels with brown nylons and a little white hat perched among my curls. Donna wore a black minidress and patent-leather pumps with five-inch heels. When Donna received her diploma the principal confirmed my fears by remarking to the audience that Donna, despite the high heels and long hair, was a boy. The principal asked Donna to remain on the platform, and then said, "Don is Donna." It seemed a new light came into Donna's eyes then, and she stumbled a moment in her heels and suddenly seemed far less self-assured and poised. "Tell everyone how you feel about being a girl, Don," the principal asked.

"Being a girl has made me a better person," my cousin answered, in a voice I recognized as being male and not the breathy feminine sound Donna used. "I am pleased that my mother changed me and I know that my cousin Beverly will learn to appreciate her changes as well."

"Thank you, Don," the principal said. "Donna is beautiful,," she said, and once more it was clear that it was Donna who stood beside her. "Donna is, indeed, a much better person than Don had been," the principal continued. "Now, will Donna's cousin Beverly please rise?" I did as requested, seemingly unable to resist the request, and stood there, red to the roots of my hair, while the principal commented on my girlishness and asked everyone in the town to help Aunt Millie with me as they had helped her with Donna.

Aunt Millie was very strict with me that summer. She made me exercise every morning and taught me to sew and cook. The whole town treated me like a girl and reported any trace of boyishness to my aunt. When she received these reports, she would make me practice that movement, action, or gesture until I did it like a girl.

Strangely, I seemed unable to resist these practice sessions. Moreover, they often passed like a dream to me, as though I learned my lessons in some kind of sleeping state. But once learned, a lesson was not forgotten--often, I tried to recall my old way of sitting or standing or walking and found myself incapable of duplicating it.


I especially recall the session that followed a report to Aunt Millie that I had been seen walking down Main Street in my stockinged feet, having removed my four-inch heels as too uncomfortable. As I walked into the house, Aunt Millie called me to her room and confronted me with the report. She went to her closet and pulled out a pair of pumps with six-inch heels. "Put these on, Beverly," she insisted. I complied and wobbled on the unfamiliar stilts.

"This is important, Beverly," she said, and suddenly her words seemed to be the only thing that mattered to me, and no other sound penetrated my mind. "You will wear at least four-inch heels at all times, Beverly," Aunt Millie told me, as she made me walk up and down the length of her room in these skyscrapers. "Your legs will feel cramped and uncomfortable in flats or bare foot; you will even have to wear high-heeled bedroom mules upon getting up in the morning." She kept me practicing and, as I did, the heels became not only comfortable, but almost relaxing.

Half an hour later, she told me stop and posed me before the full-length mirror. "Look at your legs and feet, Beverly," Aunt Millie instructed. "Aren't they lovely? Aren't they sexy? Don't they make you feel good?" With those words, I felt myself come inside my panties...and knew I'd never be seen without heels again!

More to come

Change of Heart

[This is another "shortie"...but it was also one of my first to deal with the "androgynous" image.]

Hart walked through the mall, certain he was attracting attention, but unable to do anything about it. His slightly shaggy hair only added to his unusual appearance, as did the soft touch of cosmetics that Alicia had insisted upon.

His appearance was unusual because--despite looking mostly male--he was dressed in clothes that otherwise might have been worn by a teen-aged girl. Alicia had insisted on that, too. "Nothing overtly feminine--no frills or skirts or anything for this outing," she had told him. "I want you to look like a sissy, not a girl," she smiled.

And he definitely was androgynously sissy in this outfit: hip-slung tight jeans that ended at his ankles, revealing his nylon-clad legs just a bit; white patent-leather flats with little bows on the instep; and a midriff-bearing t-shirt with a big pink heart on it (Alicia delighted in that kind of wordplay).

But the most important part of the ensemble was the belt...a belt especially designed by his genius fiancee, who specialized in electronics for mind control and subliminal influence. The circuits in the otherwise innocent-looking belt sent signals to his nervous system, forcing him to move with an exaggeratedly feminine gait, swaying his hips and taking mincing small steps.

Combined with Alicia's post-hypnotic suggestions that made his voice into a giggling sing-song, the whole effect was of a male who would have been happier as a female.

Maybe I would be happier as a female, Hart thought, as he made his way back to the center court, where Alicia awaited him. It would certainly be easier than this half-life I've been living ever since I found out exactly why Alicia said "yes" to our engagement!

Alicia said yes because it had always been her goal to have a feminized hypnotic servant as a husband...and Hart's slender frame, along with his easy susceptibility to her mesmeric charms, had made that goal readily attainable.

She had begun her hypnotic dominance of Hart long before he even knew what her ultimate plans were...on their very first date, in fact. He hadn't realized she was hypnotizing him--and wasn't aware of those early trance sessions until much later--but she'd easily put him under and begun "feminizing" his mind a little at a time.

The earliest part of Heart's hypnotic training (Alicia insisted on that spelling of his name) was subtle, as Alicia put him in a light trance then made him watch her make up her face. All the time, she suggested that watching her use the cosmetics made him aroused, that the smell of the make-up increased that arousal...and that the arousal would be greatly increased if he used them himself.

"That's it, darling, see how carefully I outline my lips," she'd coo, carefully observing as his crotch bulged in response to her suggestions. "Imagine if your lips could be just as red and desirable as mine! See how the mascara makes my eyelashes long and flirty--wouldn't you love to be able to bat your eyes and flirt the same way!?"

After a week of such nightly sessions, Heart had to agree that he wanted to try on her cosmetics. Alicia cooperated by adding a shoulder-length wig and, again, putting him under so that all her previous hypnotic suggestions would be in operation.

Heart carefully applied the make-up as he'd so mesmerically and arousingly watched Alicia apply it, ending with a lavish coating of lip gloss from a brush. The result was exactly what Alicia knew it would be--Heart was a knock-out and was totally enthralled by the idea of looking this beautiful!

But that was far from the end of Heart's hypnotic feminization. Alicia had lots more in mind for her future husband. She bought him a new stereo system for his bedroom...one she had surreptitiously modified to her own purposes. On a timer system, even when apparently turned off, every evening it played a series of subliminal suggestions to Heart's mind:

You want to be pretty; you want to be feminine. The most feminine girls are the most ditzy, the most air-headed. Therefore, you will be a feather-brained bimbo whenever you are in feminine attire. You will giggle, you will simper, you will pout. You will flirt, you will tease--but you will never follow through without my express permission!

That and similar descriptions floated through Heart's thoroughly prepared mind every evening for a month...so that when Alicia first proposed something more than just a make-up session, Heart jumped at the chance to be the air-headed thing she'd been trained to be.

Today's excursion was just the latest in Alicia's sexually humiliating adventures for Heart. The first had occurred just weeks after she had cemented her control over the feminized male. She'd picked out a mildly feminine yet overtly masculine outfit--a white silk shirt with long pointed collar (actually a blouse; it buttoned the "wrong" way) and tight-fitting black slacks that flared just a little too much at the ankle. Heart's shoes were perfectly normal male slip-ons and he wore no makeup and had his hair in a normal male style.

Together they strode through this same mall that day, enjoying each other's company, until Alicia looked directly at Heart and said, "Beauty is as beauty does."

That was the trigger phrase that dropped him into trance...and she deepened it before telling him, "I will shortly order you to open your eyes. When you do, you will act completely normally, but remain in trance. You will obey all my requests as orders."

He nodded in agreement. "Open your eyes." Heart's eyes fluttered open and he continued walking with Alicia, seemingly normal but still completely hypnotized. As they passed a shoe store famed for its wild and sexy styles, Alicia said, "Let's go in here."

The female clerk greeted them and asked, "What can I do for you?"

"A pair of sexy shoes for my friend here," Alicia replied. "Sit down, Heart dear, and let her fit you." Unable to disobey such a request, Heart sat and extended his foot. The clerk giggled when she realized he was wearing nylons over red-polished nails. Having determined his size, she brought out several pairs of shoes--a very bare sandal, an ankle boot, and red patent pumps. All had six-inch heels.

"The pumps, I think," Alicia said, smiling.

"Yes, our classic 'fuck-me' shoes," the clerk noted, grinning. She carefully fitted them to Heart's feet.

"Stand up, darling," Alicia asked, "and walk for me like the sissy you are."

Heart swayed, sashayed, and minced like a girl, perfectly balanced on the stilt-like heels. When the clerk began to package the shoes, Alicia said, "No, she'll wear them."

They proceeded out into the mall, where the sight of the (almost) male-clad man in the red stilettos attracted everyone's attention. Even in her trance, Heart blushed to the roots of her hair. As they reached the center court, Alica snapped her fingers before Heart's eyes...and she stumbled and almost fell as the trance ended and her feminine ability to handle the six-inch heels vanished.

Hart was devastated by the realization of what had gone on...and intensely aroused by it as well. Alicia brushed her hand over his bulging crotch. "The way I see it, darling, you have two choices--you can try to maintain your balance in those shoes as a male, thereby attracting even more attention. Or you can let me put you back into trance as the lovely Heart--you'll still attract attention, I'm sure, but it will be somewhat more positive."

That was the beginning of Heart's fetish for extreme high heels, which was soon joined by a an equally strong fetish for mini-skirts--short, tight, revealing. Over time, they came to be the clothes Heart wore when Alicia didn't demand something else.

But Alicia wanted a method to control and monitor Heart's reactions at all times, so she began to work with electronics that would transmit subliminal messages to her transformed fiancee's mind and permit her to bring him in and out of his feminine persona even at a distance. Her first device was a small metallic implant she placed on his shoulder. Would others see it? She didn't care--she simply imagined the delightful humiliation Heart would undergo in explaining her lover's controls.

A favorite outfit for Heart to wear with this controller was a little black dress that barely covered her ass and revealed her long, slender, shaved legs nearly to her crotch. With it, she wore six-inch slightly blocky heels.

But the final humiliating experience was still to come. A week after Heart's teeny-bopper stroll through the mall, Alicia allowed him to go out in completely male attire...his first such appearance in months. Though Hart was, by now, always aroused by his fiancee's feminizing, hypnotizing tricks, he was glad for the chance to be a normal male for a while--and a bit surprised by it, as well. He suspected Alicia was up to something, but he didn't know what.

He found out what it was when he felt a slight tingling at his shoulder...a sure sign that Alicia had activated the controller. Still completely male in his psyche, Hart discovered that his body seemed to be following a pre-programmed set of instructions. He found himself outside Alicia's favorite beauty salon. He gasped.

Alicia had long teased him with the idea of a complete makeover while he was still male in appearance and persona. He was compelled to enter the shop, all the while feeling his arousal grow. Sure enough, when he went in, there was Alicia, with the shop owner, an overtly gay guy named Maurice. They both smiled conspiratorially. "There he is, Maurice," Alicia announced. "My male lipstick lesbian lover. Make him beautiful for me."

She guided Hart to a prominent chair in the shop and the changes began. By the time it was over, Heart was a platinum blonde with curls piled on the top and back of her head. Her face was a model of feminine beauty, with arched eyebrows, long dark lashes, a pleasant blush, and full deep red lips. As Maurice patted the final touches into place, he spun her around to the mirror...and the electronic controller dropped Heart into trance.

Alicia approached her. "Are you pleased with your appearance, Heart?"

"Yes, Alicia, I'm more beautiful than I ever imagined I could be."

"Would you ever want to be male again? Tell me truthfully, there's no hypnotic compulsion."

"Never, Alicia. I am Heart, your sissy lesbian lover."

With that, Alicia removed the implant and Heart's trance ended. But Heart's female persona did not. The transformation was complete.

THE END

Haircut in Panties

I wrote about this once before, but today I again went for a haircut, wearing panties and hose under my jeans. This time was a little different, though...I didn't wear any socks over the hose, so my black-nylon clad ankles were visible, if anyone wanted to look.

So, there I sat in this unisex place, having my hair cut by a very attractive brunette, all the while wondering, "Can she see my ankles? Do I want her to notice? What will I say if she does?"

Unfortunately (or fortunately, I'm not sure), she never did...or, if she did, she never said anything.

So, now I'm sitting at the computer, still in panties and hose, with the addition of my red patent peep-toe pumps. I'll probably stay this way the rest of the day, except when I go out to do some shopping.

And I probably won't wear socks, then, either!

Wearing Panties, Part Two

Shortly after writing the previous post, I went out to get a haircut.

I go to a unisex shop (is there any other kind these days?), and I was the only male in the place. What a frisson I got, having an attractive young woman cut my hair, all the while sitting in a pair of pink panties! Thoughts of all the fantasies I've read and written about salons went through my head.