Saucy Sissy Suzette

I had lived in the Bay area long enough to feel comfortable going out in public en femme, as well as working as a stylist at a very chic, full service hair salon.

Of course, it helped that the salon, The Magic Mirror, was owned by my mistress, Ms. Lillian Lane. It was also frequented by many ladies like herself, who appreciated the feminine side of their lovers, no matter what sex they were.

Ms. Lillian, is a gorgeous Eurasian beauty. Her mother was from Hong Kong and her father, England. Her looks are quite striking. Her jet black hair is done in a shoulder length, blunt cut. She has a slender models figure, and carries herself with the grace of a queen holding court.

Even the ladies who didn't have feminine male lovers, enjoyed the "politically correct" atmosphere of the salon. It was very feminist as well as feminine. Few males ever entered. Any that did, either adjusted to the ultra feminine atmosphere, or didn't stay.

Though opened to the public, Tuesdays through Saturdays 10 AM to 8 PM, special hours were made Sundays and Mondays for the more private clientele. This was especially true for mistresses taking reluctant sissies to the salon. Some pantywaists took quite a long time to adjust to their feminine lifestyle, especially going public in a beauty salon.

For this reason it really surprised me, that, one Tuesday morning, my good friend, Suzette Plechette, came through the door, crying her eyes out, being led by her mistress, Lady Michelle. Suzette was far past her adjustment stage. Normally she loved coming to the salon. In fact, she had adjusted by her second private visit.

On that occasion she had made only a mild scene. She had quickly been disciplined by Lady Michelle. Since then she had been no problem. Therefore, my surprise, at the way she was acting.

Quickly my mistress crooked her finger and motioned for me to come to her. "Take your little sissy friend into my office Prissy. Do calm her down. I'm sure what's troubling her is the cutting and coloring Lady Michelle has planned for her," she informed me.

I knew all about the style and shade, Lady Michelle had planned. I'd been there when she and Ms. Lillian had done the photo imagery. I had to be. I was the stylist chosen to make over my sissy pal.

"Yes ma'am, Lady Lillian," I stated moving quickly towards Suzette. I had seen the appointment in the book. It was quite a bit of time for a cut and color. Apparently my mistress knew the full nature of the services about to be performed. Time must have been set aside for the possibility of disciplinary measures.

Suzette had long, below the shoulders, light brown hair. She was rather in love with the length. On this particular occasion it was done up in a ponytail atop her head. In keeping with her "pony girl" image, it was fixed in a sort of "plumed" effect.

As soon as she saw me she ran ahead of her mistress. To say ran, would be an exaggeration. Dressed as she was, no sissy could actually run. Susu, as I sometimes called her, was attired in this gorgeous mid-thigh, white calfskin skirt, that fit her like a glove. Perched on tall five inch spikes, the best she could do was a very quick mince.

She made quite the sight. Her hands held shoulder high, wrists limp, flapping like a little bird on it's maiden flight. Her waist, a mere hand span, accenting her jiggling pert boobs, and wiggling butt. Her plume bounced like a filly at a dressage competition. She came into my arms squealing the whole time, "Oh Priss- Priss, my sweet, she's going to have my pretty hair cut off!" she practically screamed.

"Oh Susu, puppy love, come to Prissy. We'll go in the office, and talk about it , pumpkin," I said, as I maneuvered her through the amused customers, into the outer room of my mistress's office.

The outer area contains chairs and couches, and serves as a waiting area. Also located there is my desk, where I do my occasional secretarial thing. The sign on my desk reads, Sissy Missy Bouffant, and speaks volumes about me, my mistress and her special clients. Through another door is Miss Lillian's private office, a beauty services area, a massage room, and a discipline area.

"Suzette dear, tell me. Why is she cutting your hair?" I asked.

"Lots of reasons. She wants me to have a new "look" for our fifth anniversary. She's going to show me off at her domme club. She says I spend too much time on my hair. If that's not enough, she claims it gets in the way of my tack when she makes me be her horsy girl," Suzette whined as I dried her tears with a scented, pink handkerchief.

"She even bought this new headpiece for me. It's an all-in-one affair. Plume, bridle, bit, reins, and mane. She says now my real hair won't get in the way when we play "pony girl." Suzette then burst into tears saying, "I don't want to have short hair like , Priscilla!"

This kind of bothered me. Mine was short. Curly also. It came to just below my chin, and was permanently waved on the sides and back. I loved the cute bangs, and the light blond frost color. I got up and looked at myself in the mirror, primping and preening, forgetting all about Suzette.

Just then our mistresses came through the door. We both curtseyed, but they ignored us. They flew past into the next room. They were only in there talking about ten minutes, but it seemed like forever. Finally Miss Lillian peeked out and said, "Both of you come in here. Suzette. Give Priscilla your purse."

We entered the room. Miss Michelle was standing by the lacing bar. My mistress attached a leash to the red velvet collar Susu was wearing. Pulling her towards the lacing bar she said, "This way please, Miss Plechette."

All Suzette could do at this point was cooperate, though she did whine, quite meekly, "Please don't. I'll behave. I'll do anything."

It was all for naught. They fastened her by the wrists to the lacing bar. Then they taped her mouth. While they had me paint a pair of crimson lips on the white tape, her skirt was rolled up and pinned in place. Then her scalloped panty brief was pulled to her knees to expose her plump butt.

While Lady Michelle fastened Suzette's ankles to shackles attached to the floor, my mistress moved me out of the way so Suzette could see her helpless, gagged, self, in the full length mirror in front of her.

"Shell honey," my mistress said using Miss Michele's nickname, "Why don't we have a really fun time?" As she spoke she handed Michele a hairbrush. Then she got a couple of pairs of cotton panties, a jar of cocoa butter creme, two cock rings, and some baby oil out of a drawer.

"What are you thinking about doing, Lilly dear?" Miss Michele asked smiling, beginning to slowly and gently tap Suzette's butt with the hairbrush. She was an expert at spankings. She would carefully build up the discomfort level and hold it there. With Susu gagged, she would merely watch her sissy's eyes and listen to her muffled whimpers.

I was told by Lady Lilly to pin up my black leather mini, and lower my ruffled sissy panties. Then I stood next to Suzette and began to stroke myself with cocoa butter cream. Lady Lillian began to stroke Suzette using baby oil, as Michelle spanked the bound panty waist.

By the time our cocks were engorged, Lady Lilly placed cock rings on both of us, right at the base of our penis. Pulling it tight and severely restricting us both, she rubbed warm love balm on us. Then she sat at her desk and had me sit on her lap.

Miss Michelle then moved to the front of Suzette and zipped the tape off her mouth. Suzette gasped and began pleading as her mistress both spanked her and stroked her sissy penis.

"Oh please Michelle my love. No more. Please? I promise to be your goody two shoes sissy girl forever," she implored.

"Do you now? Are you going to be a good little beauty parlor pansy while Priscilla does your hair?" Michelle asked as she stopped the spanking and began to use two hands to manipulate her Nancy Boy.

As Suzette moaned, "Oh yes dear mistress," My Lady Lilly began to stroke me harder. Soon we both were doing little sissy moans as our mistresses cooed and sang to us. Our mistresses released our cock rings as we both convulsed and shot our sissy creme into the panties within seconds of each other.

I fell from my mistresses lap to the floor and I'm sure Susu would have, had she not been suspended from the corset lacing bar.

After I fixed my skirt and panties, I was made to free Suzette from her bonds. After sitting for a while she adjusted her clothes also, her mistress saying, "Both of you behave. While Suzette has her hair done, Lillian is going to give me a massage."

"If we're not out by the time you're ready to give Suzette her comb out, Priscilla, knock lightly on the door. We may be napping," said Lady Lillian as she took her friend Michelle's hand and led her, smiling, to the massage room.

"Well Susu. Come over here and I'll start your shampoo and color." I said as I fastened a lacy, pink, salon cape over her shoulders.

I made sure I gave her a really relaxing shampoo, hot oil condition, and creme rinse. Before I began to color her hair, I trimmed it up to just above shoulder length. It didn't make any sense to color all her hair when I was going to be cutting it so short.

She didn't seem to mind at all when I told her the color was Midnight Brown by Loreal. "I've been wanting to go darker for a while," she said, adding, "She's having you cut it quite short isn't she?"

I nodded, saying, "A bob. Kind of chin length. Maybe shorter," I said, touching the side of her face.

"That's more like cheek length," she said, only slightly alarmed. The spanking had obviously dampened her resolve.

"Trust me Susu, I know about these things. Your hair grows fast. It will grow back quickly. Besides, I saw the photo imagery. I helped in fact. When Prissy is done with her best sissy friend, Suzette will look, tres fabu," I told her dramatically.

Then I began to color her hair, while she relaxed with her head over the sink. Then having her sit up in the styling chair, I turned her away from the mirror, and began giving her a final cutting and shaping.

She closed her eyes. To take her mind off what was going on, I told her about a sissy fashion show at Club Domme, that I was going to do hair and make up at.

"You should see if you could model there Suzette. You're certainly graceful enough and definitely have the height and figure," I complimented her.

"Thanks, I may ask Miss Michelle. This 'do' you're giving me is definitely avant garde enough for a model," she said, getting a little more cheery by the minute.

By the time I was finished with her cut, the ladies weren't out of the massage room yet. I knocked and got a really dreamy, "We'll be right out Priss, just keep on styling her. Then start her make up," from my mistress.

Next to the massage room was a fair sized "lounge" with a queen bed and vanity dresser. It sounded as if her voice came from there.

I had her turned from the mirror and did her blow dry. I used a light amount of styling gel, and as the hair dried I fluffed it lightly. Then I started on her make up, raising the chair she was seated in and tilting it back, just as I would for a professional model.

I wanted to achieve a real contrast sort of look. Her hair and eyes quite dark, her skin sort of creamy, her lips and cheeks, deep red. When I applied the second coat of Passion Plum lipstick, I knew I had what I wanted.

I then reached in a drawer, removing two butterfly barrettes and a pair of dangling, two and a half inch long crystal earrings. "These are from Michelle," I said as I attached the butterflies to either side of her head just above her ears. The earrings added to the sensational look.

"Close your eyes Suzette," I said as I helped her to her feet and walked her to the full length mirror. "Open wide princess and behold your beauty!" I exclaimed.

She was stunning and she knew it! Her eyes first opened wide in surprise and then her painted mouth. Her hands went to her nearly black, cheek length hair. She began to smile, primp and preen and look back at me, at the mirror and the massage room door, as if she couldn't wait for Michelle to see her.

See her, Michelle did. As she and my Lillian came refreshed from the massage room, Michelle stopped and whistled, saying, "Now there is someone I can't wait to see in a formal French maids uniform. Come here sugar puss. Mistress wants to check you out more closely."

Suzette sashayed proudly towards her mistress, smiling, her exaggerated sexy models walk telling everyone she loved the way she looked. "Oh Mademoiselle Michelle, your Suzette feels just so tres glam. Will you take her to lunch and show her off? Please my love? Please do? I want the world to see me!" she gestured, twirling, her arms opened wide.

Michelle laughed, "You little minx! All the fussing and crying and now you're in love with yourself. Sissies are impossible! Aren't they Lillian?" My mistress agreed, laughing and shaking her head also.

Throughout lunch, Suzette prattled on about her salon trip, the new Mercedes she and Michelle had purchased, and of course their upcoming anniversary. I mentioned the fashion show. Suzette couldn't keep from looking at herself in her compact mirror. The pair was also shopping for a new home and Susu couldn't keep from mentioning how she didn't want a really large place.

"I mean, what's a girl to do? Large homes are just so hard to keep clean," she stated, speaking to me with her hands in the air, but glancing at Michelle for her reaction. Michelle's reaction was forthcoming very quickly.

"Oh, I don't know. Would you like me to hire you your own personal sissy maid? Maybe a well trained one from one of the schools. That way you could be like one of those Valley Sissies. Drive around all day, shopping for clothes, doing lunch and having your hair done," Michelle added to my mistress's amusement, and Suzette's chagrin.

"By the way Suzette. I want you to enter that fashion show. There's quite a few prizes involved," Michelle said smiling.

The day of the show Suzette looked both, fabu and glam. Good enough to come away with one of the really neat prizes. She showed off her plumed pony girl headpiece to perfection. Michelle was so thrilled, she purchased Susu her own personal set of pink baby clothes.

One of the merchants at the show, Panty Paradise, had a really fine collection of sissy baby, and little girl stuff. After much discussion on the merits of age regression, Lady Lillian purchased a complete Shirley Temple ensemble. As busy as I was, doing the models hair she had me try it on anyway. It fit so well, she had me wear it during the rest of the show.

Michelle and Susu are still looking for their new place. Susu would love to have lots of woods and pasture to play pony girl in. Recently, Lady Lillian has hired a new secretary named Duane. He's really cute, with long blonde hair and pretty bangs. The other day I saw her get him to try on a pair of 2 inch heels. She convinced him he'd "fit in better" at the salon. He told her he "loved" the way the shoes made his legs look, especially with the pink hot pants she'd bought for him.

I wonder? What's the feminine form of Duane? Denise?



The End

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Virginia Sissy-Slims

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The Corset Shop, Part Three

The following week was the happiest of my life. After handing in my notice at the office, Margaret suggested I help her out on a part time basis at the salon. I agreed immediately and soon settled in to my new career as a trainee beautician. I got on surprisingly well with the other young women and, despite my inexperience, managed to join in with their endless chatter about fashion, makeup and men. I adopted a new name too and ‘Michelle’ was soon just another pretty girl on the team. I covered for Margaret in the lingerie shop whenever she took lunch and, along with a comfortable salary, I received a generous discount on cosmetics and clothes.

I spent most of my money on acquiring a new wardrobe and my social life improved immeasurably. I went out with Margaret and the girls every night that week, enjoying their company in bars or night-clubs and, as the week progressed, my confidence grew. I loved meeting new people and, more importantly, I was unconsciously picking up feminine social skills from the others. In no time at all, I found that I could politely avoid the attentions of older men and yet still signal my interest to the younger ones I found more attractive. I flirted outrageously but, just as Margaret had warned me, my curiosity eventually got the better of me and, on Friday at the end of the week, I finally gave my phone number to Mark, a handsome construction worker whose rugged good looks and easy charm seemed to reduce my legs to jelly whenever I spoke to him.

We went out together the following day for a walk in the local park where he was forced to hold my hand over the rough ground due to my impractical stiletto heels. We had lunch and, after three or four glasses of wine, kissing him seemed like the most natural thing in the world. I knew that we couldn’t go any further without arousing his suspicion and so, despite the mounting frustrations of my body, I managed to let him down gently and so avoid any difficulties over my true sexuality but this was obviously not an ideal solution. I vowed to ask Margaret if anything could be done to avoid this problem in the future as I desperately wanted our relationship to continue and it was only a matter of time before he demanded more intimate contact. I barely noticed how much I must have changed to actually enjoy the physical attentions of another man but the question seemed unimportant compared to the wonderful feelings Mark aroused in me.

Unbelievably, I had almost forgotten about Sandy during this heady week of discovery. She was supposed to be coming home the next day and I could hardly greet her at the door in a short skirt and heels to tell her about my new boyfriend. I spent Saturday night in tears, trying to think of a way out of my terrible predicament. I eventually called Margaret for advice and she suggested I meet her at the shop for a friendly chat. When I arrived, I tried to explain what I was going through, the awful responsibility I now had for my wife’s future happiness and the decision I obviously had to make in just a few hours time.

"Sleep Michelle." Margaret commanded. "And I’ll make everything much easier for you."

I felt my eyes begin to close as Margaret’s voice lulled me once again into a deep hypnotic trance. I remember an injection, more of the feminising hormones that Margaret had been supplying me with, some vague instructions and then nothing. I woke the following morning in my own bed unable to recall anything of our conversation but feeling much better and also strangely calm.

I felt compelled to dress and, that morning, I took special care over my appearance, wearing my most fetishistic heels and my most revealing latex dress in order to convince Sandy of my total commitment to my new life. I applied my cosmetics and, despite my own bobbed black hair, I chose a long blond wig to further emphasise my femininity. The dress was a gloss black design made of sleek rubber with a flared skirt and delicate shoulder straps which showed off my cleavage to perfection. As the hem was so short, I had worn a latex thong for the first time and this, along with the suggestive bondage ankle straps of my outrageous platform shoes, could only send one message to anyone who saw me. I smiled in anticipation.

I turned around in surprise hearing a sound behind me. Sandy had obviously let herself in and was now staring in shocked disbelief at the scene before her.

"Richard. Is that you?" she stammered. "What are you doing? Why are you dressed like this? What’s been going on?"

"I’m called Michelle now." I corrected her as she began to cry. "And there’s so much I need to tell you."

____________________________________________

I spent an hour or so applying cosmetics in the dressing table mirror. I had decided on heavy makeup for the evening and I wanted to impress. My eyelids were covered in smouldering burnt shades and, beneath the fine crescents of my brows, the effect was stunning. My features had softened so much with Margaret’s feminising hormones, I barely recognised myself anymore. My glossed crimson lips parted in a soft smile as I admired my handiwork. The solitary stud in my nose, glistened as my mouth settled back into its now familiar sultry pout. After coating my lashes in jet-black mascara, I was finally ready. Standing up in my seven-inch heels, I rose unsteadily from the chair.

Sandy was waiting for me impatiently in the living room. I had been surprised at first by her willingness to meet with Margaret to discover the truth behind my radical transformation but Margaret had been more than happy to discuss things with her. She had only been gone a few hours but, when she finally returned, she seemed much happier about everything. I don’t know what Margaret told her but, when Sandy came back to the house, she had not only accepted my burgeoning femininity but had made some changes to her own appearance as well. I smiled, gazing at her with undisguised pride. She looked great with her hair dyed black and, now that she was strictly corseted, her figure was fantastic. She creaked as she stood up to take her first teetering steps in the towering stiletto heels she was now so keen to wear.

"How on earth can you walk in these Michelle?" she asked quietly. "They look fantastic but they’re really not that practical."

I laughed.

"They’re not supposed to be practical." I chided her. "At least not in the sense you mean but they say something about the woman who’s wearing them."

"Are you suggesting I’m a tart?" Sandy grinned. "In such a conservative dress."

I looked at the figure-hugging ankle-length dress she was wearing. Latex suited her and, despite my surprise at her enthusiasm for the tactile material after her session with Margaret, I had been more than happy to find her something in my wardrobe. Sandy looked fantastic in rubber and, even though I no longer found her attractive in any physical way, I knew that Mark’s friends would definitely enjoy meeting her at the club that evening.

"Are you ready?" I asked, interrupting her languid exploration of her glistening body. "We should go. I can’t wait for you to meet my new boyfriend."



Sandy smiled and, placing her arm around my waist, we stepped out into the street, two beautiful rubberised women looking forward to their dates.



THE END

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