All
rights reserved. © Christina Shelly 2012
1. Sissy School
It is just after 8.00am on a beautiful Monday morning in late spring. The front door bell announces a visitor. Agnes Vale, a calm smile already lighting up her beautiful face, puts down her copy of the Daily Telegraph and rises with practiced elegance from a black leather armchair. She walks form the living room and down a long hallway to the front door of her large, secluded and very special house. She is a vision of gorgeous dominant womanhood: her plump but shapely form wrapped in a tight, knee length black dress, its rather provocative neckline revealing a large, yet still firm bosom; her long, perfectly shaped legs wrapped in sheer black nylon and leading down to feet encased in stiletto heeled, black patent leather court shoes; her thick, black hair bound in a tight and very prim bun; her large honey brown eyes filled with a deeply maternal authority. In the heels, she stands nearly six feet tall, a truly impressive and very beautiful woman a few weeks from her fifty third birthday.
She opens the door to greet the lovely Mrs Abigail Wolf and her only son. Mrs’ Wolf’s son is just sixteen, yet his appearance is unlike that of any normal teenage boy. Indeed, it would be very difficult to guess that he is in any way a member of the male sex, for he is dressed as a little girl, or rather as one of Miss Vale’s carefully feminised “sissy angels”.
Standing just over five foot six in white patent leather Mary Jane shoes, the son is dressed in a striking cream satin dress decorated with a pattern of white silk roses. The dress has long, puffed sleeves and is very short, its wide skirt resting at almost a ninety degree angle on a semi transparent foundation of multiple white lace petticoats. Clearly visible through the petticoats is a pair of heavily frilled white silk “rumba” style knickers. His long, surprisingly shapely legs are sealed in sheer white nylon tights and his hands are imprisoned in thickly padded, white silk mittens buttoned into the sleeves of the dress. Around each of his wrists is a white leather shackle, running from which is a slender silver chain. These two short chains are, in turn, connected to a thick white leather belt that enfolds the centre of the beautiful dress and his slender, girlish waist. His face is that of a pretty Victorian doll, covered in a layer of expertly applied white foundation, with a circle of pink rouge on each cheek. His lips, which are also painted pink, are hidden beneath the heart-shaped plastic plate of a long, phallic-shaped rubber dummy, which is held in place around his head via two lengths of thick pink silk ribbon bound tightly together in a bow at the base of his neck. The ribbons are secured around the edges of a beautiful white silk bonnet, which covers his shaven head and frames a pretty and helplessly feminine face with a thick trimming of frilled white lace. A curved satin plate runs across the top of the bonnet. Sown into the plate using strands of pink silk is the sissy name given to him by his mother: Tammy Prettykins.
Miss Vale’s smile widens as she beholds the lovely Tammy. The sissy is obviously hugely embarrassed and upset. His sky blue eyes are pointed firmly at Miss Vale’s leather shod feet. It is obvious he has been crying and is fighting back further sobs of intense humiliation.
‘My, how lovely you look Tammy!’ Miss Vale exclaims, her voice full of teasing maternal interest. ‘And is this a new outfit? It really does suit you, especially the wonderful bonnet.’
Tammy nods weakly at his gorgeous mother’s insistence, crushed by his exposure before the beautiful headmistress of the Vale Sissy School, but clearly much too frightened to disobey.
Miss Vale turns towards Tammy’s mother, her smile instantly more knowing.
Abigail Wolf is 45, a tall blonde who wears her thick, wavy hair short. Her striking pale blue eyes (a perfect match for her sissified son’s) are filled with a wicked sense of pleasure and something approaching sexual excitement. Her cherry red lips are curved into a wide, generous, even grateful smile. She stands a good three or so inches above Tammy in open toed, stiletto heeled pumps. She is wearing a very tight silver silk blouse stretched across a full, firm bosom, a beautifully cut black jacket and a matching skirt that reaches just to the middle of strong, perfectly formed thighs. Her very long, exquisitely shaped legs are sheathed in black nylon. This stunning woman is dressed for her job as a senior executive in the City.
‘I take it Tammy has enjoyed his Easter break?’ Miss Vale asks, her gaze frank, inviting,
‘Oh yes, a wonderful time at home with his sisters, cousins and Auntie Fiona,’ Mrs Wolf says, her voice filled with enthusiasm, her blue eyes drinking in the sensual presence of Miss Vale. ‘A house full of females! We certainly kept him on his toes.’
A muffled sob slips past the dummy and a shudder of despair ripples across the poor sissy’s beautifully attired form.
‘And he was well behaved?’
Mrs Wolf’s smile fades slightly. ‘Well…most of the time, but I’m afraid we had one or two moments of naughtiness. He was very upset when the girls put him in nappies, and I’m afraid I had to spank him quite regularly; but given where we were six months ago, I think it’s clear he’s making very good progress.’
More solemn now, Miss Vale nods, her eyes turning back towards the deeply unhappy sissy. Then she gestures for Mrs Wolf and her son to enter the house.
Mrs Wolf pats Tammy on his pantied behind and the sissy steps reluctantly into the hallway, his petticoats rustling loudly against his nylon sheathed legs. And it is at this point that Nicolette, Miss Vale’s personal maid, appears in the corridor, the rapid, percussive strike of her stiletto heels against highly polished wood announcing an eager arrival.
Nicolette was previously Nicholas Ramsey. At 21, he is over 30 years younger than Miss Vale, but was once her eager lover. Now, like Tammy, there is no evidence of a male identity: Nicolette is a tall, beautifully proportioned blonde dressed in a classic French maid’s uniform: a black satin and very short dress with a white silk pinafore, sheer black nylon tights, very high heeled, black leather court shoes, and a dainty white silk cap with two long strands of matching silk ribbon running down to the edge of the high, frilled neck of the dress. A true stunner with her own long, perfectly shaped legs, legs intensely and erotically accentuated by the dark, flawless nylon, and, perhaps most surprising of all, a large bosom straining against the folds of the dress and the pinafore.
‘Take Tammy to the Nursery and put him in Pen 4. Make sure the plug is turned to maximum for at least 15 minutes. I think we’ll welcome back all our pretty pupils with a maximum power vibration this morning’
Tammy releases a much louder sob of despair at the mention of the plug. He suddenly looks up at the strangely beautiful visage of Nicolette with fear, real anger and something approaching sexual attraction. The pretty, outlandishly costumed sissy shakes his head and looks pleadingly at his attractive mother, his baby blue eyes drowned in outrage and terror.
‘Off you go, Tammy!’ his mother orders. ‘Mummy will be back on Friday and then we can spend a lovely weekend at home with the girls. Remember, Cousin Julie is bringing all her old dolls for you to play with and Auntie Fiona has promised you a new dress!’
The unfortunate, although strikingly pretty sissy lowers his head in shame and defeat, tears now trickling down his rouged cheeks.
Nicolette, beholding Miss Vale with adoring hazel eyes, then performs a deep, panty flashing curtsey before leading a sobbing Tammy down the hall to the Nursery. The two women watch Nicolette’s delightful wiggle mince with impressive and obviously aroused eyes as the sound of Tammy’s loudly rustling petticoats nearly drowns out her sobs of humiliation and fear, his legs held tightly together, his steps tiny the regulation “sissy mince”.
‘I’ll be back on Friday afternoon, about 4.00pm,’ Mrs Wolf says, handing Miss Vale a large, pink rubber, duffle-style bag. Insid
e are Tammy’s personal effects and training tools: two pint sized baby bottles, a plastic zip lock packet packed with five pairs of soiled panties, two more dummies - each with long, phallic shaped teats, a collection of bibs (each with his teasing sissy name sown into the towelling fabric), and a make-up bag. ‘Fiona has donated a pair of panties, as have her daughter and Tammy’s sister. The other two are mine – more than enough to keep him happy at night.’
Miss Vale’s smile broadens, her eyes appraising Tammy’s beautiful mother with sexual frankness. ‘Excellent. Thank you.’
Mrs Wolf returns the smile. ‘I really can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done, Agnes. My life has been totally transformed. It had been hell since Brandon died. And now…well, it’s like I can start again.’
Miss Vale, now quite serious, nods. ‘You can both start again. By the end of his treatment, Tammy will be ready for complete transformation into an obedient she-male. You will have a caring, devoted daughter who will serve you eagerly and without question. And she will find happiness and fulfilment in this role, I assure you.’
Then, to Miss Vale’s surprise, Mrs Wolf takes her hands and places a tender, nervous kiss on the older woman’s right cheek. An electric charge of sexual pleasure shoots down between Miss Vale’s legs and she cannot resist a gasp of very obvious arousal.
‘Perhaps I can…see you?’ Mrs Wolf whispers, her voice hoarse with desire.
Miss Vale is surprised but also excited by Mrs Wolf’s words. ‘Yes, of course…come back on Thursday evening, after the sissies are in bed. Say 8.00pm? Nicolette will serve us dinner.’
Stepping back from the stunning Miss Vale, Mrs Wolf nods, smiles. ‘Yes, that would be lovely. I’ll see you then.’
There is a charged silence. Mrs Wolf clearly wants to say more. Her husband, nearly fifteen years older, had died suddenly just over a year ago, and, in the months that followed, she had struggled to manage her only son. Despite having inherited her husband’s very considerable fortune, Mrs Wolf found no solution to her son’s increasingly wayward behaviour until she had been made aware of Miss Vale’s very unique service.
Miss Vale watches with sex teased eyes as Mrs Wolf walk to her car, a new silver Mercedes. The car is parked in the secluded, hedge bordered drive of the large Georgian house. From the country lane beyond, only the top of the house is visible: privacy is a vital requirement of Miss Vale’s work and Silk House provides it superbly.
Mrs Wolf turns as she opens the driver side door, waves and then elegantly slips into the car, Miss Vale’s eyes widening as the younger woman’s short skirt rises up quite deliberately to reveal more of her lovely, hosed legs.
The car soon moves off down the long gravel driveway, then out onto the country lane that runs through Silk Wood to the village.
Miss Vale leaves the door open, knowing that in a few minutes her second sissy charge will arrive.
During the next 20 minutes, three more sissified teenage boys are delivered to Silk House by their grateful guardians.
First, and only a few minutes after Tammy, there is Daisy Nappylove. A few months older than Tammy, Daisy arrives with his grandmother, Miss Agatha Rose, a tall, regal and still beautiful woman in her late 50s. Miss Rose, her hair a sea of elegantly ordered blonde curls, her lips blood red, her eyes a piercing emerald green, is dressed in a gorgeous dark blue suit with a knee length skirt and a cream coloured blouse. Her long, still shapely legs are sealed in sheer black nylon and a pair of tight, black leather, very high heeled boots. She is a striking figure of absolute female power. Her grandson, however, is an image of pathetic and embarrassingly intricate ultra-feminisation. For poor Daisy is dressed is an outrageous pink silk romper suit, with a very high, heavily be-frilled neck, long, puffed sleeves and frilled leg sections that reach only to the middle of his thighs. His long, perfectly shaped legs are sealed in opaque white nylon tights. Like Tammy, he is wearing a pair of patent leather Mary Janes (also pink). His hands are sealed in pink satin, heavily padded fingerlesss mittens and a large bonnet edged with thickly-frilled white lace covers his shaven head. And, just like Daisy, there is a curving name plate running across the top of the bonnet. However, there are also distinct differences from Daisy: a large bulge around the bottom half of the romper suit reveals that, beneath this pretty sissy confection, the unfortunate young man is wearing a nappy. His arms are bound tightly behind his back at the elbows and wrists with silk ribbons, and a thick, pink satin scarf is wrapped around his face, leaving only his pale blue eyes, wide with humiliation and despair, visible. Miss Vale knows that, beneath the scarf, his lips have been sealed with a thick strip of white duct tape and his mouth filled with a pair of Miss Rose’s used panties.
After a brief, teasing chat, poor Daisy, now sobbing like the little baby girl he most surely has become, is marched off to the Nursery by the lovely Nicolette. Miss Rose passes the rubber bag filled with Daisy’s humiliating sissy effects to the beautiful headmistress and then departs.
Soon after, Mrs Rachel Jackson and her daughter Amanda arrive with their sissified charge, Cindy Tinkles. Cindy is nearly 17, his mother 42 and his sister 21. Cindy is perhaps the very prettiest of this year’s intake. Small in stature (in his stockinged feet just five feet four inches tall), he is clad in a gorgeous white satin dress shaped like an inverted cone, which expands out from a high, lace frilled neck to a wide skirt that rests on a sea of thick white organza petticoating. The dress itself is lined with hoops of beautiful pink silk. Between the each hoop is an intricate design of silk stitched flowers. Beneath the spectacular petticoating is a pair of very heavily frilled, cream coloured rumba-style panties His long, feminine legs are sealed in opaque pink tights and his small, girlish feet are held dainty captive by a pair of stiletto heeled, pink patent leather ankle boots. Like the other sissies, he wears a baby bonnet over a shaven head, this made of white satin and with the obligatory name plate. His arms, held at his sides, but raised at a ninety degree angle to his hips, are secured inside white satin, heavily padded fingerless mittens. A dummy gag, very similar to the one worn by Tammy, fills his mouth. His face, also like his fellow sissies, has been painted snow white, with a pink rouge heart on each cheek. He is the perfect vision of ultra-sissy beauty, and Miss Vale cannot resist teasingly complementing him on his appearance and tickling him under his delightfully dimpled chin. Yet this vision is amusingly enhanced by one particularly wicked addition to this deeply humiliating costume: around each ankle and each wrist is a pink band holding a set of tiny bells, each of which provides a sweet, tinkling accompaniment when the poor sissy makes even the slightest movement.
Cindy is already quietly sobbing as Miss Vale teases him. Miss Vale is well aware that his older sister, already a highly regarded designer in the fashion industry, has taken a keen interest in her younger brother’s sissification, and that she is a strict and unforgiving taskmistress. It would seem that she has already punished him for some no doubt minor infraction of the many rules that define his tormented life in the Jackson household.
‘I am afraid Cindy has been very naughty,’ Mrs Jackson says, confirming Miss Vale’s suspicion. ‘He failed to keep his legs tightly together when serving our breakfast. Mandy – always eagle eyed – noticed a gap of a t least an inch. She gave him a very sound spanking with one of her old school gym slippers just before we came out.’
The similarity between Mrs Jackson, a wealthy, widowed businesswoman, her daughter and her sissified son are striking. All three have dark brown eyes. Mrs Jackson and her daughter share an almost Mediterranean complexion and thick, wavy jet black hair. As poor Cindy has had his face painted snow white just like the other sissies and his head is shaven beneath the bonnet, it is difficult to tell if he shares his female relatives’ other features. Unlike Cindy, however, Mrs Jackson and her daughter have strikingly voluptuous figures, with large breasts and broad hips off set by long, shapely yet also powerful legs. Both women dress to accentuate their generous forms. Mrs Jackson wears a tight
black nylon sweater beneath a black leather jacket, with a short black and white check skirt, sheer black nylon tights and stiletto heeled court shoes. Rachel wears a striking black business suit with a cream silk blouse, her height accentuated by very high heeled, black patent leather mules.
As Cindy is led away sobbing into his fat dummy gag by the lovely Nicolette, the mother and daughter complement Miss Vale on the success of her “radical therapy” and, like Mrs Woolf, make a point of saying how much happier they (although not Cindy!) are. They hand over the pink rubber bag of “effects” then leave.
Soon after the two lovely women have left, the final of the four sissies enrolled that year arrives with his aunt, Miss Helen Stacey. Frilly Rubber Doll is perhaps the most outrageously costumed of all the unfortunate pupils. Unlike Cindy, Frilly is tall. He is wearing a powder blue rubber smock dress that reaches down to just below his waist. The dress rests on a thick shelve of white and powder blue layered petticoating that explodes out around his hips and upper thighs. Clearly visible beneath this dense jungle petticoats are a pair of powder blue rubber bloomers than reach down to just above the sissy’s knees. His legs are sheathed in very sheer white nylon tights, and his feet rest in a pair of powder blue patent leather Mary Janes. The dress has long, layered sleeves. The sissy wears the obligatory heavily padded, fingerless mittens (of the same powder blue rubber), and a startling powder blue bonnet made up of many layers of a more slender rubber material, which surrounds his head and face, making him look like some strange alien flower. A dummy gag fills his mouth, and his sissy name is revealed not via the bonnet, but by a white satin, heart shaped plate fixed to the front of the striking rubber dress.
Miss Stacey is in her late 30s. A well known television journalist, she is dressed in a grey business suit, with a very short skirt revealing long, very beautiful legs sheathed in powder grey tights. Her thick blonde hair is bound in a very tight bun. She wears black leather, stiletto heeled court shoes that perfectly accentuate her stunning legs. She has striking sky blue eyes and lips painted a dark, bloody strawberry. With the figure of a 20 year old, she is a vision of carefully preserved female beauty and Miss Vale is quite smitten by her.
Silken Tales Page 1