X-Dresser Sissies Issue 5 ~ Pansies in Petticoats

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Each piece of clothing tells its own story – offers its own special sensations. Sometimes wonderful, sometimes ‘not so good’. I stood nervously by as the two women joked, and as I fidgeted; the rustling petticoats continued their unceasing caress. The thought of actually going to a public restaurant while dressed as a young prepubescent girl disturbed me momentarily, but I knew I was powerless to alter their plans for me. In fact, the stirrings under my fluffy skirts spoke more of my concurrence rather than any complaint.

Oh Christine, you look absolutely wonderful,” exclaimed Aunt Mary, thoroughly pleased at the latest transformation. “I wish Susan could be here to see how darling you are.” After donning their wraps, the two ladies led me to the car for the drive downtown to the restaurant, while daintily dressed as a girl. Ah! There you are,” she said cheerily. “Strip off and I’ll get your costume out and put it on you.” A couple of days passed and Sheila said nothing more. The party’s on Saturday afternoon. By Thursday when she’d still said nothing i decided I’d got away with it, and arranged to meet up with a couple of friends in town on the Saturday. Jason was all ears. Surely she wasn't going to tell his stepmother about the duties he had performed this morning? In the bridal boutique, I got a thorough lesson in materials and their weight, strength, purpose and flexibility. Words such as brocade, lace, satin, silk, chiffon, crepe, voile, net, taffeta, tulle, velvet were mentioned and I didn’t have a clue about quite a few of them. I knew satin, silk, cotton and polyester and jersey and lots of others and I had heard of some of these but I didn’t know what was what. It was fascinating and Robyn was very helpful in my quest to understand the importance of sound and feel to a garment.I'd like to see the two of them admiring each other's panties," she said. "Mrs Marchison, would you mind showing your son's pretty panties for my sissy boy to admire?" He can come out of his uniform for the rest of the morning," announced Miss Presswell. "I want him circulating through the different departments of the boutique and I want him available."

I appeared at the top of the stairs. I was a lovely vision in white. The maid had certainly chosen well for there wasn't a hint of masculinity left in me, rather I (now her) looked the perfect little princess. The dress was all white lace accented by delicate pink satin bows across the bodice and at the puffy sleeves and hem. From their vantage point, the two women could easily view what must have been several layers of crinolines under the wide almost floating skirt. Around my waist was a four inch wide pink satin sash tied at the hip with a huge bow. I stepped carefully down the steps, my feet in white patent leather Mary Jane’s, highlighted by white anklets trimmed with a turned down pink lace cuff. Oh isn't that sweet," he heard as their faces parted. "Don't they look lovely together, exchanging delicate kisses?" After being shown the way, Carolyn took me by the hand and led me down the hall to the door marked “Ladies.” No... no I'm not!" he retorted, then remembered Miss Presswell beside him. "I mean... I mean, thank you... Mrs Mitchell. You're very... kind. But please don't tell Gary you saw me here." He had to find a reason which would put her off, because she was looking like she'd got the best bit of gossip in weeks... no, years! "C-Can we keep it a secret, Mrs Mitchell... pleeeeeeease?" There was a chorus of agreement from the circle of smiling faces. Jason had to protect himself, from exposure.We drove on, heading down the shaded boulevard toward the academy. “I'm sure we'll find your suitcase, but it will be so much of a shame; you look so pretty as a girl.”

And look at his petticoats," she went on, lifting the light gingham material and frothing her pink gloves through one layer of net after another. "No wonder his legs look as good as any girl's."We chatted about my parents and life at home before coming to Los Angeles. We were under the covers and Aunt Mary now had her hand on my leg as I rested against her breast while we sat up against the plush headboard. I began to blush as my clitty was getting hard and Aunt Mary asked, "Is your penis getting hard again?" I said, "Yes it is, I just can't help it. Carolyn calls it my clitty and I just love all the attention Carolyn is giving it." We had just spoken earlier of my home life where I told Aunt Mary the same thing I had told Carolyn. Miss Presswell's face was a mixture of intentions. "Hm," she said, clutching his arm, "I'm beginning to think you have real sissy instincts boy. You will now help Kate to fit dear Andrew with his school panties." This didn't help his nerves as she fastened matching ribbons onto his bare thighs a few inches below the lace edging of his panties. She took his hand and threaded a glove of powder blue satin onto his fingers. It buttoned round his wrist with glass buttons, which carried on up his arm: ohhhh! how long it was! The ribbon fastening wrapped over above his elbow, finishing with a press fastening under his blouse sleeve in the shape of a bow with a large blue button in the middle. His other hand was gloved too, and buttoned up to his elbow in the same way. Wake up, child," she said, her forehead wrinkling above him. "We haven't got time for fairy antics like feeling faint and collapsing on the job. You're going to feel a lot more feeble and delicate than that as the day wears on." She took a silk hankie from the sleeve of her blouse and wiped Jason round the mouth, filling his nose with her perfume. His head was feeling mightily cleared and he repeated her sissy kissing instructions, as well as learning a few more.

An "Aaaahhhhhhhhh!" of admiration mingled with delight escaped every woman in the circle as every pair of crimson lips seemed to be close enough to reach down and kiss his exposed helmet. "Isn't it dainty?" "A little sweetie!" "I've never seen such a girlish penis, have you?" "No, it's a girl's penis, I'm sure." And four or five pairs of fingers, some of them gloved, held his stiffened organ by the shaft, the helmet, his testacles and the most sensitive parts of his legs and groin. Jason felt his cheeks blush and his penis tug firmly on his panty silk as it grew in front of the watching women. Or was it because of their pretty sissy husband and son-in-law? The wretched male was wearing wide legged French panties prettied round both legs with three inches of pink lace, and they were tented in front of him from the bottom edge of his corselet, so that the double dome of his penis helmet was beautifully shaped in gleaming satin. His corset was in lacy panels that alternated pink and white, with six suspender garters of ruched white satin that hung loosely halfway down his panties. His bra cups were shallow, perhaps an A cup, but judging from the smooth flesh of his chest they must have been filled with his own breasts and nipples. Taking my hand while I was dressed delicately Aunt Mary beamed, “Come along, sweetheart”, and with my skirts bobbing we walked together to the car.This is my favourite look. This is that time where you hand over responsibility to me to dress you in those clothes that take away your masculinity and enter a mode of subservience and service.