And with that I was dismissed – a mere child sent to play with the little girls, with permission to wet his nappy. I held on for another couple of minutes, but realising my situation was hopeless, had no choice but to let go of both my bladder and my pride, and wet my nappy.

I did look up the dictionary definition – I’m that sort of person – and the first definition was “Frilly; heavily ornamental; fancy; overly elaborate, particularly as regards clothing”; the second was ‘a rustling especially of a woman's skirts’. Clearly, this was what was described in my stories. I felt totally mortified; never had I been treated like such a completely helpless child. Despite my humiliation, Carolyn smiled as the sound of water splashing in the bowl echoed in the small stall. When I was finished, instead of replacing my panties to their former position, the maid had me stand, my petticoats still raised to waist level. She took a tissue and gently dried the tip of my penis, and with the frilly white panties still around my ankles, she opened her purse and removed a small container.I was going to have to decide what my new dress would be like. I wanted frou-frou (whatever that might be). It sounded so definitely pleasurable. But this first effort to find frou-frou didn’t go easily. The prom-dress just wasn’t me. So I looked for dresses which would be suitable for a petticoat or maybe just more than one liner or slip. One of my ladies who did alterations made that suggestion. She said to buy two or three slips and she would stitch them together so they would go under whichever dress I wanted. This seemed to make lot of sense and gave me a lot more flexibility in what I could look for. I feel wonderful, standing so close to you... sweetheart," muttered Jason. "Please may I kiss your soft, girlish lips?" My cheeks turned a bright red, but not out of embarrassment from wearing such girlish clothes. Rather, it was because deep within, I couldn't imagine anything nicer than continuing this new and exciting experience for as long as I could. Lucy appeared a short while later in her Alice costume -a little blue dress with layers and layers of white petticoats and stripy tights. “Don’t we look lovely together!” she squealed. I hung my head in shame and embarrassment.

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. Aunt Mary said, "Ooh my baby Chrissy looks like you love your clitty ejaculations." I heard what she said and thought how lovely it was. This was so heavenly to me and I began to think of what else the women had in store for me. I was willing to go along with anything they would like to do. What are we going to do? It'll be four days till it opens now,” I wondered aloud, a tone of alarm in my voice.By this time, I had got comfortable with going into shops and buying pants, tights and quite a variety of clothes. I wasn’t yet willing or able or presentable as ambiguous or androgynous. I had grown my hair to my shoulders and it was much better looked after than the average male. It's nothing to cry about when you look so pretty, sweetheart," murmured Serena as she clipped a butterfly bow of pale blue silk into each side of his soft blonde hair. "The sissies who come into the boutique will want to hold onto you and feel your little peeny in their fingers." As he knelt up, his face was a couple of inches from the wet penis, now half flaccid and glistening with its recent ejaculation.

Carolyn asked, "And did you like it?" I said that I did and once I had put the nightie on I was determined that the fact I liked it would remain my secret. Put him in these shoulder petticoats," she said, "and I want him in Snow-White knee-highs and crystal pumps to match this dress."

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She selected one photo and filled the screen with it: a moment when he was having a baby's pacifier taken out of his mouth and his penis was in complete erection on the outside of his pink satin shorts. A sinking feeling dragged at his stomach. But of course, I'm sure she'll want to look and smell her best on her first time out to eat,” Aunt Mary responded, her voice equally serious in tone. Fiction Writing | Blog Writing | Creative Writing | Essay Writing | Letter Writing | Poetry Writing | Technical Writing | Story Writing The ease with which I bought the bras encouraged me to look at many more clothes in the next few days. Sometimes I looked in the charity shops, as the prices are so remarkable and once in a while the right garment comes to hand. But, increasingly, I went into the shops selling the clothes I wanted to look at, the clothes I wanted to examine and feel and assess, the clothes I wanted to try on and buy.

Like hell!" retorted Jason, setting his jaw and pushing her hands away from the waist of his panties. "What do you take me for? Some kind of a mummy's boy? Well I've got news for you, girl: I - am - not - a - sissy!" 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. But then at supper Sheila asks me what I'm planning to wear to the party. I almost choke. I tell her I'm not going; it’s a party for girls. You know what to say, boy," she said, her face twisted as if she had a slice of lemon in her mouth, and she took the older sissy's hand to wrap Jason's fingers round it, then the other. Their faces were six inches apart, both blushing a deep red.Carolyn lay me down with my head resting on Aunt Mary’s breasts and then put on her negligee and gown and left the room. Aunt Mary said, “Chrissy my darling can you just get up a minute while I remove my negligee?” You most certainly WILL be going, young man. Whether we like it or not we’re a family now, and when there’s a birthday party the whole family goes. So you have a think about your costume and let me know if you need any help.” 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.” Hello my little darling. Come close and let me hug you into my blouse. Mmmmm. I'm so happy you are sharing Prim's Petticoat Pansies issue #36 with your loving Aunt. While we're reading the stories and articles this time, sweetheart, I want you to feel particularly respectful and just a little frightened, because we are talking Mothers-In-Law, as you know, and that means you SHUT UP and DO AS YOU ARE TOLD.