by Iona Nixon
Simon looked at his wife, sitting impassively in front him. He hardly recognized her. She looked stunning, fabulous even. He felt again a strange feeling of inadequacy. But it was her manner that was so odd. She was so cool towards him, so controlled.
In fact that was far from the case. Charlotte and Tilly had told her they were going to have a bit of fun tonight, and that she should just sit on this 'throne' and not show any emotion at all.
"That, darling, will drive Simon mad, and I promise you will love how empowered you feel. Trust us. Just treat the evening as a bit of theatre, ok?"
"Are you just going to sit their Louise? Help me!" Simon looked agitated and hot.
Charlotte stood in front of Tilly and came close to Simon's face. He looked at her momentarily, and then looked away. This woman was able to dominate him completely with just a simple gaze. He simply couldn't make eye contact again, and stared at her neck, feeling her warm breath on his face.
"Scissors please Tilly. " Tilly placed a long, sharp pair of tailor's scissors in Charlotte's upturned hand.
"Now Simon. You are going to learn some rules about respect. Some very important rules indeed."
As she spoke, she opened the blades and slowly and methodically cut his shirt, through the cuff, snip, snip, snip, up the arm, and through the collar on both sides. Tilly pulled the pieces away, dropping them on the floor. Louise sipped her drink, placing it back on the side table.
The clock in the hall struck 9pm, and Charlotte stopped.
"How time flies. Fetch them here Tilly. It is time to show Louise how much fun you can have with a husband."
Tilly left the room as Charlotte, standing in front of Simon again, slowly unbuckled his belt, and then cut diagonally, through the waistband and across the front of Simon's crotch. Simon felt the blades open and close, as Charlotte cut. Snip, snip, snip, down his inner thigh, down his calf and finally through the hem. Then up the other side, snip snip, snip, until the ragged pieces slipped to the floor.
Tilly opened the boy's bedroom and smiled. Sitting on the edge of the bed were the sweetest, most delightful sissy girls imaginable, swinging their pretty legs backwards and forwards and holding each other hands.
Peter looked up at Tilly with huge loving eyes, his wet, glossed lips trembling, mouth slightly open. He fluttered his long, false eyelashes coyly and with his free hand patted the back of his head, adjusting his golden ringlets neatly over his shoulder.
"Time for games girls". As Tilly spoke the boys looked at each other adoringly, and Tom lifted his frilly, gloved hand to Peter's blushed cheek, and kissed him softly on his top lip. Tilly smiled and sighed audibly, tilting her head as if to frame the sweet moment. Peter stood first. The hem of his party dress sprung free, barely covering his tummy. It was the shortest skirt imaginable, displaying layer after layer of stiff taffeta petticoat underneath. He looked adorable. As he turned and bent down to help Tom up, he exposed an exquisite pair of cream and pink frilly knickers to Miss Tilly.
Tom held out his hand, palm down, showing his long painted nails, and Peter softly caressed Tom's fingers as he stood up on his four-inch glittering silver heels.
Still holding each other's hands, they hesitantly followed Tilly as she turned and walked back to the billiards room. The boys watched Miss Tilly's tight pencil skirt, her curvaceous bottom wriggling down the corridor, her perfectly straight seams, and the long sensual, cruel line of her calves leading down towards the beautiful symmetry of her stilettos.
The boys curtsied to Miss Charlotte, and seeing Miss Louise sitting coolly on her throne, blushed and looked down in embarrassment.
"Kneel either side of Miss Louise girls. " Charlotte's voice was hushed, her words spoken with absolute authority. The girls obeyed, kneeling on the platform either side of Miss Louise, their eyes down, intensely aware off the naked, writhing body of Simon in front of them.
Charlotte turned back to Simon, and lifted her hand towards Tilly, who placed the handle of a long thin crop in her upturned palm, looking directly into his eyes. Once again Simon had to look away.
"You do not address me, or any other woman unless you are given a direct order to do so. Is that absolutely crystal clear Simon?"
Simon struggled again, and looked up at Miss Charlotte with a look of fear in his eyes.
"What on earth is happening here? Let me go, this is ridiculous, let me go!" Simon continued to struggle, but he could see that there was no way he could break free.
Charlotte lifted her gloved hand and with a vice like grip squeezed his chin between her thumb and forefinger, digging into his cheek, making his mouth pucker stupidly.
" I can see that you are not listening to me Simon. That is a very serious mistake. Now, once again, you do not ever address me unless I expressly instruct you to do so."
Charlotte leaned forward, lifting his head up, pressing even harder into his cheeks. She put her lips to his ear and whispered: -
"You are going to be taught a lesson in obedience Simon. Then we can begin your new life properly."
Something about Charlotte's tone, for the first time, truly terrified Simon, and he stopped struggling. His mouth was beginning to go numb, and he could feel himself dribbling down his chin.
Charlotte stood back, and slowly pulled her leather gloves tightly onto each hand, wriggling her fingers provocatively, moving the crop from hand to hand. She then slowly circled him. He shivered as she moved behind him, and he felt the tip of the crop as Charlotte traced a line around his chest, down his back and between his buttocks. His mouth went dry and he found it hard to swallow.
Louise, seated in front of him, elbows on the side of her throne, pressed the fingers of each hand together, and looked directly into his eyes totally without expression, crossing her legs slowly, teasingly, in absolute control of her emotions. Her heart was racing, and she could feel her neck flush, but she had never ever felt like this before. She felt completely alive, empowered and thrilled by the scene in front of her.
The tension in the room was palpable. Simon could hear the blood rushing through his ears. Tilly placed her hands on her hips and nodded.
A rush of air, then a loud crack. Simon whelped and thrust his buttocks forward instinctively. He found himself putting all his weight on the cuffs above his head, desperate to move away from the pain, and could feel the tops of his toes on the wooden floor. A wave of agony seared across his buttocks and he let out a high-pitched whelp, almost pitiful in its intensity.
Before he could catch breath another crack, this time across the back of his thighs. Simon spun round, as Charlotte raised the crop across her left shoulder and brought it down backhanded across his groin. Simon's vision blurred, he had never experienced such unrelenting pain. He felt his hot tears running down his cheeks and let out an almost continuous high-pitched squeal.
Charlotte continued, raining down blow after blow. She remained cool, detached and calm. Every 10 seconds another blow came, one after the other, criss-crossing his buttocks and thighs. Long white marks, started to colour like pick-up-sticks around his body, turning pink, then red, purple and black. At last Charlotte paused. Legs apart, hands on hips she stood din front of Simon. She looked magnificent, proud, in tight leather trousers and knee length boots. Her black top clinging tightly around her waist, displaying her exquisite curves.
Simon took several minutes before he was able to pull himself back onto his feet and and stood up, knees bent, leaning heavily on the rope above his head for support. His eyes were red and puffy with tears, and his legs were shaking uncontrollably. He took on the grey pallor of a man in considerable pain. Charlotte, Till and Louise listened carefully. Had Simon learnt his first lesson. At last Simon raised his head, his hair wet and matted, sticking to his forehead. He looked at his wife, who looked at him intently, then across at Charlotte, her bosom still heaving from the exertion.
Another minute passed. Still silence. Another minute. Tilly held a long, heavy wooden paddle in both hands, like an offer
ing. Simon saw the cruel, polished implement and shuddered. He knew he couldn't take anymore. Another minute passed, then another. Simon could hear the blood rushing through his ears.
"Do you now understand the consequences of disobedience Simon?"
Again Charlotte spoke in a barely audible whisper, adding to the intensity of the moment, making Simon concentrate hard to understand each word.
A moment passed, then Simon nodded. He knew that something had been broken inside, and between sobs you could just make out the words.
"Yes Miss Charlotte. Thank you Miss Charlotte."
Charlotte turned to the kneeling girls. They had knelt in silence throughout Simon's ordeal. Both of them knew the terrifying consequences of disobedience from their own personal experiences. They listened to the sickening blows, each one making them wince, feeling such pity for dear Simon. How much they wanted to tell him not to struggle, not to answer back. Just to stay silent at all costs. But they were just Sissies now. They had no opinions, no authority, no influence. They were there to serve their wives, and to be pretty and feminine at all times, and spend their entire waking hours in the pursuit of vacuous girly thoughts. They were fragile and confused, and they had grown to love their frilly, narrow little world, and took great comfort in each other's company. Perfect sissy sisters.
"Take Simon to your bedroom . You may explain things. Up, up!"
Charlotte gestured to the girls. They rose slowly, knees together, and stood, one leg in front of the other, holding the hem of their ridiculously short party dresses out each side, pinched between fore-finger and thumb. They both curtsied and blushed, their mouths pouting spontaneously, with their quivering painted lips shining under the harsh lighting.
"We shall expect you in the drawing room at 11.30."
"Yes Miss Charlotte, thank you Miss Charlotte." the girls responded in unison, with well rehearsed sing-song voices, emphasizing the first syllable of Miss Charlotte's Christian name with each sentence.
The ladies filed out of the billiards room and made their way downstairs to dinner. Peter and Tom waited until they heard the clatter of heels on the parquet flooring in the hall, and then busied themselves gently releasing Simon from his shackles and supporting him on each side as the took him slowly back to Peter's bedroom.
The girls entered the drawing room excitedly and Charlotte closed the door behind her back, with one finger against her lips.
"Shhhhh. No giggling. Her face was beaming with excitement. Tilly grabbed Louise by the arm warmly.
"You were amazing Louise. Incredible. Your first time and, honestly, you just didn't blink once." Tilly shook her head as she spoke.
"I am so proud of you. You will go far." Tilly added, hugging her and kissing her softly on the cheek.
Louise just shook her head, holding a hand to her mouth.
"I honestly don't know how I did that. It was such a rush. The more I controlled my emotions the more empowering the experience became.."
Louise looked at Charlotte.
"You are a Goddess. Simon isn't even able to maintain eye contact with you. He is terrified of you. I have never seen him so defeated." Louise smiled at Charlotte, in complete admiration.
"You did well today Louise. But that is just he very beginning. I am going to suggest that you stay over tonight so we can continue at the same intensity until tomorrow night. You will need some strategies in place to deal with Simon once you get him home, and it is going to take time before he is broken properly. Only then can you start to re-build him as you would wish him to be."
Louise nodded.
"I am a little afraid he might take his anger out on me, if I am honest."
Tilly spoke first.
"Let me assure you darling, once Charlotte has had a few more sessions with him, he wouldn't dare disobey you."
"Well, that is true, but don't scare our new playmate TIlly. This is after all for all our amusement.. Now, lets dine and then the boys will come down and we can relax and have some fun into the small hours."
At exactly 11.30 there was a timid tap on the drawing-room door. Charlotte and Louise were seated at each end of a large sofa, their legs tucked up underneath their thighs, relaxed and happy, sipping wine. Tilly sat on the arm of an armchair gesticulating wildly as she described the last set of a match she won at the club the day before.
Tilly stopped and looked at the door, and then over to Charlotte, who looked at her friend with a knowing smile. They both turned to Louise, who sensing something was about to happen, once again assumed her cool demeanor.
"Well...," Charlotte said quietly, I think that we are ready , don't you ladies?"
Louise and Tilly nodded, smiling broadly, and then immediately all three ladies reverted to the haughty, almost cruel expressions they reserved for their men folk.
Tilly topped up Louise and Charlotte's glass and sat down in her armchair, legs crossed. The seats were arranged facing a small Victorian oak stage at the end of the drawing room, opposite the French windows. You could imagine the hundreds of little playlets and arias that had been performed over the years, entertaining the various occupants of Charlotte's drafty, characterful villa. High ceilings added to the sense of drama, together with the two spotlights focused on the centre of the stage, which could be accessed from either side via two small sets of steps.
"Come in girls." Charlotte's voice sounded perhaps just a little thick, and Louise wondered, just for a moment if perhaps this was exciting her more than she was letting on.
The door opened slowly.
Charlotte's husband walked in first, holding Tilly's husband's dear little gloved hands softly between her fingers and thumb. They moved slowly but elegantly on 5-inch heels, heads down, bashful and blushing and shuffled up together in front of the three ladies, side by side.
As they had been taught, they held the hems of their tiny dresses up each side, exposing acres of frothy petticoats, and their frilly knickers, stockings and suspenders. They curtsied deeply in perfect unison and waited in silence whilst their wives and Louise inspected them lazily from the sofa.
"Did you explain some things to Simon, Peter?" Charlotte spoke slowly, looking at her nails as she spoke and then up into Peter's eyes.
"Yes Miss. He now knows how offensive his behaviour was Miss. He understands that happiness comes from obedience, but I fear that his education has some way to go Miss, before..before..."
"Yes indeed before," Charlotte interrupted dismissively. Now girls, on stage, we wish to see you behaving prettily for us. Show Louise how nice it is to have a sissy sister to care for.
Both girls turned to each other, and smiled at each other. Tom closed his eyes momentarily, his long eyelashes fluttering showing the beautiful eye shadow that matched his party dress perfectly. The girls almost skipped to the stage, helping each other up the stairs. Tom had to stop at the top and adjust his suspender belt, re-attaching his stocking top carefully, and looked behind to ensure his seams were perfectly straight.
As he stood up and turned to Peter, he felt his hand brush his ringlets behind his ears, and gasped as their shiny mouths met. Tom could taste Peter's lip-gloss, sweet and fragrant, and he pulled teasingly on Peter's top lip.
"Darling Sis'" he whispered, feeling the front of his frilly panties tighten as a wave of gorgeous femininity rolled over him. He loved the feeling of his sister's petticoats tickling the front of his panties, and the wonderful rustle of material as they groped and writhed together on stage.
"Be a good girl now Tom. Show me how loving you are." Tilly addressed her husband directly, and he knew at once how the evening was going to go.
Slowly and softly Tom pulled away from his kiss and kneeled down in front of his sister, letting her petticoats tickle his face and then spring up over the top of his head as he settled in front of her panties. Tom closed his eyes, in blissful anticipation, and could hardly contain his sissy, girly thoughts. He was ready to explode with joy.
Louise looked at the stage, eyes w
ide open, unable to fully take in the extraordinary scene in front of her. Her mind was racing. She thought about Simon. Could he, no surely not, she thought. Then smiled to herself. Oh yes he bloody would, she determined, and sat back to enjoy the show.
The stage, spattered with sissy cum, still wet and shiny, stood empty. The girls had retired to their room exhausted and happy long ago, and Louise, relaxed and slightly tipsy, lay back on the sofa listening to Tilly and Charlotte's tales of humiliation and embarrassment, and how they had used a combination of seduction, punishment and reward to finally break their husbands down and re-build them as the completely sissified, effeminate submissive girlies that they now were.
"Don't worry Louise, with our help it won't be long, and you will have such fun." Charlotte pressed her hand on Louise's knee as she spoke, looking into her eyes.
"Now, to bed ladies, we have an early start tomorrow."
Chapter 3.
Louise woke up with the sun streaming through the open window. She could smell freshly mowed lawns and hear a dog, faraway, barking. The room was large and well proportioned, elegantly decorated with expensive furniture and sumptuous curtains. She looked at her watch. 8.15am.
As she stretched and yawned she thought to herself, "well, 5 hours is probably enough sleep at the weekend." She padded over to the bathroom, quite naked, and stuck out her tongue, examining it closely in the bathroom mirror. Then pulling down her bottom eyelids, she groaned, and determined to take a long shower and ignore her fatigue.
Downstairs Peter and Tom had been up since 5am, busying themselves in the kitchen and drawing room. Tom, in a lovely Victorian maid's uniform, with a long heavy skirt, on his hands and knees scrubbing the stage with meticulous attention.. His bottom wiggled as he worked, curvaceous and feminine, even under the folds of heavy black wool. A huge, stiffly starched bow at the back of his apron, white and crisp, contrasted beautifully with his skirts, and you could see three layers of laced petticoat, also in pure white cotton, teasingly on show as he worked.