Pansy’s own eyes had been filled with a now familiar mixture of desire and anger, a helpless collision of fury at his strange fate and a deep, dark, intense desire for his beautiful, elegant and very shapely aunt.
Standing up, Mrs Swan had straightened her skirt, aware of Pansy’s eyes drinking up her form with the desperation of a man dying of thirst.
After the booties, she had moved quickly, aware of the time and the need to get Pansy wrapped up nice and tightly for his extended afternoon nap. He had watched with fear widened eyes, his long, false eyelashes fluttering helplessly, as the ample beauty had taken a pretty pink “sleep bonnet” from the chest of draws, a simple baby’s bonnet made from the same pink satin with heavy white lace frilling around hits curved diameter. She had placed this on the edge of the thick pink rubber mattress that filled the cot. Then she had moved to a small white plastic bag placed at the foot of the chest of drawers. Pansy’s eyes had widened further, knowing full well what the bag usually contained. And from inside, she had taken a pair of her own panties – a simple black cotton pair with a design of white roses – and a pair of her black nylon tights. Both had been worn the day before and still bore the intimate imprint of her most private regions.
‘Seeing baby was so keen to wear my tights, I thought I’d give you a little treat for your nap.’
Poor Pansy watched with horror and arousal as she had placed the tights and panties by the bonnet and then untied the rubber cording holding the fat, intensely humiliating dummy gag in place.
Despite his evidence outrage at his bizarre sissy, there had been no word of protest as the extra-large teat of the dummy was pulled from his bright pink lips. Other than an audible sigh of relief, Pansy had remained silent, knowing too well the price he would pay for even the slightest squeak of protest.
Mrs Swan had then returned to the cot mattress and taken up the pair of slightly damp tights. Making sure Pansy could see her every move, she had then squeezed the tights into a ball, with the especially damp gusset section positioned so that it comprised nearly one half of its circumference. This she had then forced deep in Pansy’s mouth, inspiring a squeal of fear and anger.
She had left him standing there, so sweetly babified, his mouth stuffed with her soiled tights, as she had returned to the drawers, taking a thick roll of very wide white duct tape from the top drawer, then returning to him, holding the tape before her like a threatening weapon.
The poor sissy fool had shaken his head desperately as she had torn a long strip of the wide tape from the roll and then pressed it over his mouth and bulging cheeks. Two more strips had followed, so that all of his face below his nose was covered in the thick, inescapable tape.
Satisfied with her kinky handiwork, she had taken the panties from the cot and then slid them slowly, teasingly over the sissy’s perfectly bald, snow white head, positioning them so that the gusset section was stretched tightly over Pansy’s helplessly flaring nostrils and thus ensuring that the he was forced to breathe her most intimate aromas deep into his lungs. She then wrapped an extra-long strip of tape around his head just below his nostrils to hold the panties firmly in place.
Even as he had been so tightly and strangely tethered, the poor babified sissy had been in a state of some considerable sexual discomfort, and a low, desperate moan of sexual hunger and dreadful frustration was emanating from beneath the fat hose and tape gag.
Checking that the tape was held firm, she had pressed the palm of her hand hard against his mouth, pushing the panties tighter against his nose and inspiring a louder mouth of helpless arousal and brought a cruel, teasing smile to her beautiful face.
‘That’s right, my little baby bunting, breath in all Auntie’s special scents.’
Tears welled up in his wide, sex maddened eyes as she had then returned to the drawers, extracting a pair of opaque white nylon stockings (at least 50 denier) from the middle drawer and then had made her way back to her tormented sissy charge.
She had stretched open the first stocking into a wide bowl and then, with a speed born of much practice, draw it over his shiny, hairless head and down over his face, fitting Pansy with a tight hood of soft, opaque nylon and inducing a squeal of genuine fear.
Thus Pansy had been gagged with his Aunt’s tights and masked with a pair of her soiled panties, and – finally – hooded with a nylon stocking that left only his tear soaked eyes just barely visible through the frilly legs holes of the soft, black panties. And as soon as the hood had been pulled tightly into place, she had used the second stocking to bind his mittened wrists very tightly together behind his back.
It was then that she had taken up the pretty pink satin sleep bonnet and slipped it over Pansy’s stockinged head, carefully positioning it so that his nylon sheathed and panty masked face was ringed by a delicate cordon of white lace frills. She had then secured the two lengths of light pink silk ribbon that were attached to each side of the bonnet and drawn them together under his nylon sheathed chin before securing them in a tight, fat bow.
‘Perfect,’ she had whispered, stepping back to admire the babified vision of absolute sissy servitude that Pansy had become. ‘Absolutely perfect.’
Poor Pansy was now sobbing, his head cast down towards his aunt’s high heeled courts, the tears soaking through the material of the opaque stocking and creating two hilarious panda-like circles. Where there had once been an arrogance, poorly behaved teenage male, there was now expertly decorated and utterly helpless sissy slave, furious at his forced transformation, yet unable to resist it. A sissy slave who, to his utter horror, was finding himself increasingly aroused by the teasing feminine fabrics that consumed his increasingly girlish physical form.
Then she had led him to the adult-sized cot and made him lay face down on the thick rubber mattress. The pathetic sissy had struggle to maintain his balance as his aunt had helped him to lean over the mattress and then edge himself into the required face down position. But his babified body had soon been slotted neatly into the full length of the cot. Mrs Swan had then set to work securing him for his extend afternoon nap.
She had then taken six lengths of white rubber cording from a small shoebox stored beneath the cot and placed them by Pansy’s nylon wrapped, bonnet and panty masked head. The poor sissy was breathy deeply and desperately into the pungent gusset section of his beautiful aunt’s panties and it was clear he was in a state of some considerable sexual distress. His tear soaked eyes had widened when he saw the cording, for he knew the test that was to come.
She had used the first cord to bind his bootied ankles tightly together. She had then used further lengths to bind his legs above and below his knees. The poor sissy moaned with discomfort and fear as his Aunt Anthea applied this rigorous and cruel bondage, securing tight knots and ensuring that the cording bit deep into Pansy’s increasingly sensitive skin.
Then she had applied further lengths of the cording, this time to his elbows – pinning them painfully together – and to his already bounds wrists, packaging up her sissy nephew with a cruel, eroticised enthusiasm.
Yet even this had not been the end. For his soon as his body had been secured, she had taken up the final length of the rubber cording and tied one end of it to the cording binding his bootied ankles. Then she had, in one hard tug, pulled the free end of the cording forward and consequently pulled poor Pansy’s ankles back over his body. She had increased the pressure so that his ankles had eventually been pulled up to his tethered, mittened hands, thus forcing him into a tight and clearly uncomfortable hogtie position. Then, with his feet pressed up against the satin covered palms of his hands, she had secured the free end of the cording to the length of cording binding his wrists, thus completing the punishing hogtie and leaving poor Pansy moaning desperately into the gag and breathing heavily and deeply into the pungent panty mask.
Smiling, feeling a familiar tingle of dark sexual excitement, Mrs Swan had stepped back from the cot to admire the strict and perverse symmetry of her bondage sculpture. Pansy had moan
ed and wriggled helplessly, his nylon hooded face tilting towards his aunt’s buxom and utterly gorgeous figure, his tear-soaked eyes wide with fear, discomfort and a helpless, furious desire.
Aware that the poor sissy fool might roll off the mattress and fall to the floor, she had then stepped forward and pulled up the barred side of the cot. The cot itself had been deliberately designed to be narrow and just contain the body of a teenage male about Pansy’s size. Therefore, when Mrs Swan had locked the side panel into position, the unfortunate Sissy found himself held in a very limited space and unable to move an inch. He had therefore been held fast in the hogtie position.
And this was how he had been imprisoned for the past three and a half hours. His high pitched, sissy squeals grew louder as she moved closer to the cot, his discomfort obvious as was his continuing sexual torment. She unlocked the sidebar and lowered to the floor. She then whispered teasing baby talk and caressed his nylon sheathed cheek.
‘Has baby missed his Auntie?’ she teased, as Pansy wiggled desperately in his sissy bondage. ‘I can see you’re really excited that mummy, Bev and Jocasta will be here in just a little while. It’ll be your first chance to show off how pretty you are. And I’ve got loads of lovely treats for you to wear to your birthday party, Pansy. You’ll look absolutely gorgeous! And I’m sure the ladies will be desperate to play with you!’
The sissy’s pretty blue eyes were wide with fear and anger through the tear soaked nylon hood. He tried to shake his head, to let his gorgeous, buxom aunt know that his was exactly what he didn’t want! But she just patted him on the head and then began to free him from his intricate, perverse and very uncomfortable bondage.
In a few minutes, Pansy was sitting up, only his wrists still bound behind his back with the nylon stocking. He moaned deeply into the tights gag as the circulation slowly brought his numbed, strained and pained body back to life.
While he sat, head bowed, stunned, still masked and hooded, she slipped into the en suite bathroom and used the toilet, in the process discretely filling a laboratory jar stored in the bathroom cabinet with her urine. She then returned to the nursery with a dark, teasing smile lighting up her lovely face and placed the jar on the top of the chest of drawers.
Poor Pansy was still too distracted by physical discomfort to notice any of this, but his attention was quickly directed back to his beautiful, ample figured aunt once she began to unbutton the tight, deeply flattering cream satin blouse.
‘It’s got rather hot in here,’ she teased, her eyes burning into his. ‘And we need to get you washed, powdered and scented before we dress you.’
His moans of pain quickly turned to moans of helpless and very powerful sexual desire as Anthea Swan slipped the blouse from her shoulders and down her long, surprisingly muscular arms to reveal the top half of a black, satin panelled panty corselette, a fascinating and deeply erotic piece of shape wear designed to both restraint and accentuate Mrs Swan’s already considerable and generous curves.
She allowed the blouse to fall to the floor and then, in a series of outrageously provocative wiggles, worked the check skirt down her long, perfectly shaped, black nylon sheathed legs and elegantly stepped out of it to reveal the full, astonishing beauty of the panty corselette and her own incredible, buxom form, a masterpiece of ample beauty that left poor Pansy squealing with the full force of his angry, tightly restrained teenage sexual hunger.
‘There,’ she lightly whispered, ‘much better.’
Pansy stared at this perfect vision of mature, dominant womanhood in utter amazement, his eyes filled with desire and also despair. As he helplessly breathed in her most secret scents and tasted the soft, dark truth of her exquisite and all powerful femininity, he knew he was utterly helpless and doomed to surrender, that his imprisonment as a baby girl was inescapable and, to his horror, increasingly exciting. His cock, rock hard for days now, pressed through the fabric of the tight rubber restrainer into the soft, thickly padded material of the deeply humiliating nappy. As he wiggled in his sissy attire, the plug bored deeper into his backside, and the further it went, the more aroused he became!
Stunned and enveloped in a black sex fury, Pansy offered absolutely no resistance as his stunning aunt, in her incredibly sexy underwear, helped him from the cot and across the room to the bathroom. Here, with only a whimper of agonising sexual frustration, he allowed himself to be untied and stripped of his sissy clothing. Not a single gesture of resistance greeted the removal of the bonnet and the stocking hood, nor the panty mask, the thick duct tape, nor the fat tights gag. Soon, he was naked, every inch of his shaven, silky smooth body painted snow white, his perfectly bald head shining in the soft pink light of the bathroom. His cock rose up in its pink rubber restraint with an angry desperation, a sleek, pink totem pole dedicated to the worship of his beautiful, buxom mistress, her authority absolute and undeniable.
Mrs Swan led her stunned, helpless sissy nephew to the shower cubicle and left in cowering beneath a jet of powerful, steaming hot water, a tablet of heavily scented pink-coloured soap in his hands. As he began to wash his sweat soaked body, each gesture carefully elegant and feminine to reflect the way he had been so strictly trained over the past few week, Mrs Swan returned to the nursery and began to unpack the various items of shopping she had brought back from her three hour trip, laying them out carefully on the thick pink rubber mattress of the cot so that Pansy would get a clear view of these new baby delights as he came back into the room.
She took him out of the shower after 10 minutes, his silken form soaked and, thanks to the soap, very heavily scented. Taking a thick, extra fluffy towel from a rack on the wall beside the cubicle, she wrapped him in its warp, soft embrace and began to dry his slender, sissy form.
Poor Pansy’s wide, stunned eyes never left his aunt’s large, welcoming bosom as it strained against the brassiere section of the corselette. Even when she paid particular attention to his rampant, rubber imprisoned cock, the unfortunate sissy - despite naughty, ungagged moans of pleasure - never let his eyes wander from the splendour of his aunt’s magnificent chest.
After this teasing, deliberately erotic drying, Anthea Swan carefully inspected her sissy lips (she had used dye-style, waterproof lipstick and his soft, girlish were still perfectly styled in a sweet, ultra-feminine bow). She then smothered his silken form in a cloud of heavily scented lavender talcum powder and quickly followed it with a thick mist of musk perfume, leaving Pansy smelling as well as looking ultra-feminine.
Then she led her pretty sissy charge from the bathroom back into the nursery, and a gasp of surprise laced with fear slipped from his painted mouth.
‘Yes, my little baby petal, aren’t they lovely!’
Pansy was made to stand to attention, his hands behind his back, his legs held tightly together, his rubber sealed cock rising up before him, as Mrs Swan held up one by one the strange, rather beautiful and deeply fetishistic items laid out on the cot’s rubber mattress, displaying it before the sissy’s widening eyes with an obviously cruel pleasure.
‘A very special nappy to start off, Pansy!’
The wide eyed, horrified sissy stared at the latest manifestation of his soul crushing humiliation and felt fresh tears well up in his baby blue eyes. For the nappy itself was only a part of the strange item of babified clothing that was being held before him. It was much more thickly padded than any of the nappies he had been forced to wear before. It was also contained within a thick pink rubber panty which was decorated with a design of white teddy bears! The leg and waist sections of the panty were also thickly frilled with ea delicate woven white lace.
After the nappy, Aunt Anthea held up a strange, white nylon body stocking, which had feet just like any normal pair of tights, but also much thicker, ribbed glove-like sections which were fingerless and a high neck that seemed to be circled by a strip of Velcro. Then there was a pair of spectacular white rumba style panties make from elasticated satin and covered in layers of organza frills. And after th
is, the buxom beauty produced a pair of pink rubber bloomers, with long, intricately buffed legs, heavily frilled at the ends and also around the elasticated waist.
Then there were the boots: white patent leather ankle boots with pink silk laces and 4 inch stiletto heels. Pansy stare at the boots in utter astonishment and also fear: on occasion during the last few weeks, Aunt Anthea had made Pansy wear high heeled courts hoes, spending time teaching the sissy how to walk smoothly and elegantly, but these heels were much higher than anything previously experienced and a bolt of genuine trepidation passed through his ultra-feminised form.
“Yes, babikins, these will be a challenge. But you must look your best for mummy and the girls!’
It was then that fresh tears began to trickle down Pansy’s alabaster cheeks and she began to fight back sobs of despair and fear, creating a spectacle that his aunt clearly found hilarious.
‘Oh don’t start pretending you’re upset, my little sissy flower. I know you can’t wait to be presented to mummy! And I’m sure she’ll be very impressed by the progress you’ve made.’
Then, Aunt Anthea held up what appeared to be a white, sheer nylon hood. It was similar to the stocking hoods used by his Aunt for his naps and at night (when he was secured in a tight, pink satin sleep sack, his mouth filled with a soft rubber “sleep gag”, a pair of his aunt’s pungent soiled panties pulled tightly over his face), but it was also clearly more carefully and specifically designed. This was made apparent by a small mouth hole placed at the front of the hood, which was bordered by an intricate design of rose coloured nylon petals.
Next, Aunt Anthea held up a truly gorgeous dress and a gasp of amazement slipped from between the sissy’s pretty pink lips in between the increasingly loud sobs of despair.
‘As you can see, I was at Miss Fiona’s this afternoon.’
Miss Fiona Wallace was a local dress maker who Aunt Anthea had commissioned to design and make most of Pansy’s outrageous and endlessly humiliating wardrobe. Her imagination, like his aunt’s, was endlessly perverse and ensured the poor sissy was never without suitably ultra-feminine baby girl attire.
Silken Tales Page 4