This latest creation was made from the same pink rubber as the bloomers. It was a very short smock-style dress whose wide skirt was fitted with thick layers of white and pink organza petticoating. It also had a very high, lace frilled neck, and long, puffed arms with heavily lace-frilled sleeves. And, to Pansy’s utter horror, across its smooth rubber front, stitched in a white silk thread in an elegant handwritten style, were the words Pansy Nappylove.
The dress was quickly followed by a pair of pink latex rubber tights, clearly made to match the dress exactly. Then there was a gorgeously bonnet, as cut from the same pink rubber material, with thick organza style frilling similar to the petticoats around its semi-circular rim.
‘You’re going to be mummy’s little rubber baby doll. The girls will absolutely adore you, sweetling!’ Aunt Anthea said, her eyes filled with cruel pleasure and an obvious sexual arousal.
Yet, despite this outrageous teasing and the terrible fact of the new, intricate and furiously humiliating costume, poor Pansy Nappylove remained quiet, the tears trickling down his snow white cheeks the only sign of his true, terrible unhappiness and intense, soul crushing embarrassment. Pansy knew too well the consequences of any form of resistance. For a moment he looked beyond his beautiful aunt towards the far wall. On a hook, by the side of the cot, hanging from a length of black leather, was a long, thin, ivory handled riding crop. There sis of his last encounter with this wicked tool of correction were still visible on his delicately shaped, white bottom. And this punishment had been for merely coughing into a particularly large and damp panty gag!
Then Pansy’s baby blue eyes returned to his ample figured, gorgeous aunt, her generous form so strikingly and erotically displayed by the panty corselette, her long, strong legs exquisitely displayed by the sheer black nylon tights and high heeled black leather court shoes. Her full, sensual and cherry coloured lips curved into a teasing smile and she held before an object that came very close, despite the ever present horror of the crop, to inducing a cry of defiance. For Aunt Anthea was hold aloft a long, thick, pink coloured penis gag made of shiny, hard rubber!
The gag, which even had a large, bulbous head, was fitted with a circular pink leather base from which two matching leather straps ran, one from each side. And as he stared at the bizarre, terrified gag and found his eyes following Aunt Anthea as she walked across the room to the chest of drawers. It was then that she delicately lowered the long, hard rubber shaft of the gag into the laboratory jar of her golden coloured urine.
‘Let’s just leave that to soak for a little while,’ she teased, returning to the cot.
Pansy felt more tears of horror and humiliation trickle down his cheeks. But still he made no sound of protest. Instead, he watched stunned, appalled and yet also – to his utter self- loathing – aroused, as Aunt Anthea held up the final items of his new, outrageous sissy costume: a thick, white leather belt, attached to the sides of which were two leather, rubber lined shackles of the same colour. Then there two more of exactly the same shackles held together by a short length of silver chain. And, for the gloriously bizarre finale: a pair of circular very heavily padded and fingers mittens of the same pink rubber as the dress and a thick, pink satin scarf.
And so, over the next thirty of so minutes, poor, frustrated and very frightened Pansy was helped into the spectacular, perverse and unbearably humiliating costume, a special “sissy birthday outfit” conceived by his lovely, plump aunt for his “debut” before his mother, his sister and his gorgeous cousin (a beautiful young woman for whom he had had a terrible crush since his early teenage years).
He offered no resistance and co-operated silently, pulling the strange rubber nappy into place, its thick, soft padding strangely comforting, its snugness, even tightness immediately apparent, especially between his legs, where it pressed the teasing plug even deep into his widening anus. Then there was the deceptively slender white body stocking.
To his surprise, the stocking had a back section that enabled it to be unfastened and opened up. The fastening mechanism was a series of circular Velcro strips in place of buttons that ran up to another Velcro strip that travelled the circumference of the neck. His Aunt helped him step into the sheer, soft and so terribly teasing legs of the tights, which she had rolled into two wide bowls. He drew the tights over his feet and then, in a charmingly feminine manner, wiggled them carefully up his legs and over the thick, bulging, pink rubber covered nappy. His aunt then moved in very close to him, the presence of her gorgeous body a dreadful torment, and helped him slip the arm sections over his hands and pull the stocking up over the length of his carefully sissified form. And once it was pulled tightly into position, she secured it firmly in place using the Velcro strips.
‘I know how much you love sheer nylon, Pansy. So from now on, you will be enveloped in it permanently. Miss Wallace has made seven body stockings, one for each day of the week!’
Fighting to keep his eyes from his aunt’s large, swelling bosom and her own long, nylon sheathed legs, Pansy felt his hard, tormented cock press angrily against the unyielding rings of the restrainer, aroused by the teasing words and the gentle, soft and deeply erotic embrace of the body stocking.
Yet the submersion in nylon was not over. For once the body stocking was in place, Aunt Anthea took up the strange, sheer nylon hood. Pansy was used to being hooded and accepted this latest humiliation in tearful silence, allowing his aunt to slip the hood over his bald, shining head and then slowly down over his face, plunging him into a world seen through the filter of semi-opaque white nylon. Yet unlike the other hoods he had been forced to wear over the last few weeks, this once was fitted with the peculiar petal rimmed mouth hole.
‘Perfect,’ Aunt Anthea whispered, fitted the hood firmly to the Velcro stripped neck of the body stocking, her barely restrained bosom brushing against his chest. ‘Absolute encasement in lovely, soft nylon. You must be very excited, Pansy!’
Despite the distraction of his beautiful Aunt’s physical closeness, Pansy found himself looking down at the hand sections of the body stocking. They were much thicker than the rest of the stocking and almost rigid. It was immediately apparent that he could hardly move his hands!
Satisfied that her sissy nephew was suitably consumed by nylon, Aunt Anthea then moved to the rubber tights. With her assistance, Pansy opened the surprisingly soft and flexible latex rubber tights into a wide bowl before gingerly arching his right, nylon encased foot with its pink-painted toenails into a classically feminine position and then slipping it into the corresponding leg of the tights. He did the same with the left leg and then began very gently to pull the strange rubber hose up his long, nylon sheathed legs, which once again progressed up his lower body via a series of deeply feminine wiggles.
Like the nylon tights he was forced to wear, the rubber tights had a very long upper section that meant by the time Pansy had manoeuvred the tights into place they covered his already nylon imprisoned body from his painted toes to the tips of his stiff pink nipples, thus enveloping most of his silken form in a very soft and also tight third skin of latex rubber. And it was the tightness that was immediately apparent. Despite their softness, the tights seemed almost immediately to constrict and thus physically emphasise the terrible reality of his absolute servitude.
Aunt Anthea complemented her helpless, tormented and pretty sissy nephew on the impact of the tights and then helped him step into the astonishing rubber bloomers. Their elasticated rim provided a further firm grip on his stomach and allowed the bloomers to be pulled very tightly and exactly into place. The bloomers were quickly followed by the spectacle rumba panties, which left Pansy with a multi-layered and devastatingly humiliating set of pretty ultra-feminine undies over his nyloned body!
Aunt Anthea moved with purpose now, clearly determined to ensure her helpless charge was transformed into this latest version of a pathetic sissy slave as quickly as possible.
After the underwear came the beautiful, but also very testing stiletto-
heeled pink leather ankle boots. Pansy was made to sit on the cot’s thick rubber mattress, pressing the plug deeper into his tormented arse as he did so. Then he was treated to the teasing spectacle of his aunt kneeling before him and fitting the boots to his rubber sheathed feet. As she leant forward to fit the first boot, the poor sissy was given a perfect and furiously arousing view of his Aunt’s large, yet still impressively firm bosom as it seemed to struggle for release from the delightful prison that was the panty corselette.
She took his right foot and guided it gently into the first boot’s soft leather embrace. It reached up to the middle of his rubberised shin and, once positioned, was quickly yet expertly tied tightly into place using the pink silk laces, leaving a dainty bow neatly positioned between the two highest silver eyes.
The second boot was then fitted and Pansy was ordered to stand up.
As his gorgeous, buxom aunt rose up before him, her gaze never leaving him, Pansy very carefully pulled himself from the cot and onto his now very high heeled feet. At first he swayed nervously, finding the combination of the heels, the very restrictive tights and nylon hood disorienting, but his aunt was quick to inspire him to move forward.
‘I know how much you like walking in heels, Pansy, so there’s no excuse. Off you go – legs together, small, balanced steps and a pretty wiggle of that lovely bottom of yours! Come on, or I’ll use the crop!’
And so he began slowly and carefully, his body shaking with fear and trepidation, to move forward, each step initially a terrifying challenge to his balance, a risk that at any second could result in humiliating collapse and possible injury. Yet, after a few minutes, it was easier: by taking the smaller steps, by keeping his rubber sealed legs closely together, he was able to establish both balance and rhythm, essentially a form of ultra-feminine wiggle mince that seemed to provide a steadiness that inspired confidence and reduced his fear considerably. Then, just a little later, he was walking more quickly, demonstrating a sweet sissy totter that clearly delighted his lovely, plump aunt.
‘That’s it, Pansy! Well done, my little baby petal! Now, hands at your sides and wiggle that bottom a little more.’
He obeyed her without a second’s hesitation and was rewarded with a round of amused applause. To his surprise, he found himself taking pride in the fact that he could please Aunt Anthea, that his mincing femininity gave her pleasure. He felt his sex strain painfully against the restraining rings and as he moved, his rubberised thighs held closely together, the anal plug moved deeper into his arse, his totter-style walk creating a pumping rhythm that was helplessly arousing!
After five or so minutes, when it was clear Pansy was now moving with a confident sissy grace, Aunt Anthea returned to the dressing, taking up the astonishing pink rubber dress from the cot mattress and holding it up before him.
‘Right, sweetling, let’s get you into this lovely little confection!’
His aunt, her sensual, generous figure so devastatingly displayed by the panty corselette, slipped the thick, puffed arms of the pink rubber dress up over his arms. He bent his neck forward and the high, heavily frilled neck section was slipped over it. The dress was then allowed to fall over his slender, sissified form.
Despite the rubber material, the dress was surprisingly light. It was also very short: even with the layers of organza petticoating, it fell only to the top of the rumba panties, leaving them quite deliberately visible. The sleeves were very narrow at the wrists and, he noticed each was circled by a strip of pink Velcro.
‘Splendid,’ his aunt cried, admiring the latest addition to the strange, perverse creation that was Pansy Nappylove.
He looked down through the stocking hood at the dress and saw that name: Pansy Napplove. Elegantly and awfully stitched across the front of the dress, designed to be visible to all who beheld the helpless, pathetic sissy. This, he knew, was how he would be – very soon – presented to his mother, his sister and his cousin. A terrible fear and giddiness washed over him. Fresh tears welled up in his eyes.
It was then that his gorgeous aunt took up the thick, white leather belt and held it up before him, a cruel smile lighting up her beautiful face.
‘We don’t want you trying to run away when mummy and the girls turn up!’ she teased, stepping forward and wrapping the belt tightly around his waist.
He offered no resistance as the belt was buckled tightly into place at the base of his back, forcing the petticoats to rise up in the process and thus reveal more of the spectacular and deeply embarrassing rumba panties. Then his gorgeous, all powerful aunt carefully slipped each of his wrists through the rubber leather shackles attached to each side of the belt and buckled them into place quite high up his wrist, leaving his hands pinned to his sides.
No sooner had she secured the shackles than she took the two thick, large, circular and fingerless mittens from the mattress. She carefully slipped each over his hands (already immobilised thanks to the thickly ribbed hand sections of the body stocking and tied that very tightly into place with silk ribbon ties that were wound through the wrist sections.
Poor Pansy had never felt so helpless: despite all the bondage he had endured over the last few weeks, this shackling left him feeling totally in the cruel, imaginative hands of his beautiful, ample-figured aunt, little more than a plaything whose sole function was to amuse and, perhaps, arouse.
And after each of the heavily padded, circular mittens were in place, Aunt Anthea took up the shackles connected by about 6 inches of slender silver chain. These opened out to wrap around each of Pansy’s slender, bootied ankles and were then locked tightly in place via a pretty, bow shaped and very small silver padlock.
Rising and stepping back, a big, triumphant smile lighting up her lovely face, Aunt Anthea reconsidered her sissy masterpiece. Pansy stared back at his aunt through the film of soft, feminine nylon with a mixture of helpless fear, crushing embarrassment and a terrible shame inducing desire.
‘Now...for the final touch.’
The pathetic, overwhelmed sissy could only watch in utter horror as his gorgeous aunt, erotically resplendent in the figure hugging panty corselette and sheer black tights, crossed the nursery to the chest of drawers. It was already obvious to Pansy what was about to happen and fresh tears of despair were leaking from his eyes and soaking through the nylon hood. Yet, even in the midst of this awful truth, he managed to remain silent, watching as he is aunt extracted the long, thick penis gag from the jar of her own urine, gently tapped off a few golden yellow droplets and then returned to her pretty, tightly secured and utterly appalled sissy nephew.
She held the obscene, urine soaked gag before him.
‘Open wide, my pretty baby flower.’
His tear soaked eyes widened in disgust and were momentarily filled with a renewed resistance. Then he shook his head.
Aunt Anthea’s smile quickly faded and a dark, angry look spread across her beautiful face.
‘Your remember what happened last time your shook your head at me, Pansy, don’t you?’
Yes, he remembered: six cuts of the crop on his bare backside followed by the insertion of a new anal plug bathed in a powerful skin irritant. He had been tightly bound and gagged and locked in a narrow storage cupboard under the stairs for two hours, forced to stand in absolute darkness squealing in pain as his arsehole was tortured relentlessly, his mouth stuffed with a tampon taped in place with bands of thick white duct tape that had covered his face from the tip of his chin to the edge of his desperately flaring nostrils.
And so he fell silent and opened his mouth wide, tears soaking through the hood, a sense of utter self-loathing crashing over his delicately sissified form.
Aunt Anthea pushed the gag through the flower shaped hole in the hood and into his mouth. Even open wide, his mouth was quickly and disgustingly filled, the piss soaked, hard pink rubber pressing his tongue absolutely flat, its widened head pushing firmly against the roof his mouth.
As the gag was driven home, its circular leather pl
ate pressed against Pansy’s pink lips. He was forced to bite down hard on the harder part just before his lips, and then Aunt Anthea pulled the two leather straps running from base behind his nylon covered head and buckled them tightly into place, sealing the gag tightly and inescapably in place.
Pansy was immediately aware of the sharp taste of his aunt’s urine and moaned with horror and disgust into the gag. It was then that the absolute effectiveness of the gag was displayed; for despite the moaning, there was no sound allowed past the long, hard penis gag: pretty Pansy was completely and utterly silenced!
Satisfied and obviously deeply amused by the obscene effectiveness of the gag, Aunt Anthea then took up the final piece of the bizarre and deeply humiliating costume: the lovely pink bonnet with its layered organza rim. She slipped this over Pansy’s nylon sheathed head and then tied in tightly in place via the two long pink silk ribbons that ran from the two satin side flaps of the bonnet. As she did so, she leant forward and placed a red lipped kiss on the circular plate of the penis gag, pressing her considerable bosom into his own perfectly flat chest and ensuring the poor sissy was even more tormented by the latest tease.
Then, finally, pretty sissy Pansy was ready. Smiling and in a state of some considerable arousal, Aunt Anthea returned to the chest of drawers. From within, she took a silver chain lease with a white leather handle. She attached the end eye of the leash to one fitted into the centre of the belt. She then lead the helplessly, hobbled and quietly sobbing sissy to the full length mirror that was positioned between the tall, white wooden doors of the wardrobe, so that Pansy could finally behold his aunt’s latest creation.
Initially, Anthea said nothing. She stood behind Pansy as he looked with wide, damp eyes at the strange creature he had become: a sissified mutation of what had once been a teenage boy. Today he would be eighteen, yet the reflection he faced revealed a babified mannequin within which he was now permanently imprisoned.
Silken Tales Page 5