Madge & Timmy : Resistance is Futile

Madge & Timmy : Resistance is Futile
(A Madge and Timmy Tribute based on the writings of AW(Anonymous Writer))

When mrs. Madge Dubois told my mum she could cure me of my nasty habbits and unwanted behaviours, she didn't tell her she actually considered being an unruly adolescent boy an especially nasty habbit in itself... And now, after almost two years under her matronly supervision, she says I'm almost cured....Meanwhile mum and dad had gotten divorced and as mum moved away to live with her new boyfriend and my dad had no time to take care of a teenage son because of him working abroad most of the time(well, that was what I was told at the time but I much later found out that he had actually been commited to a psychiatric hospital after having had a strange shady affair with Madge herself), it had been agreed that I would move in with mrs. Dubois, who was seen as a pillar of the local community, on a permanent basis. By then Madge's plans for my gradual but inescapable transition from boisterous little Timmy to demure young Tiffany had already been well established. To keep up appearances, mrs. Dubois friends and relations were informed about how she had, of course for purely charitable reasons, taken in her former neighbours troubled adolescent son who's earlier rebellious behaviour had turned out to actually have been caused by a tragic deeprooted gender dissatisfaction. So in the end it looked as if she was just helping a confused effeminate teenage boy to discover and accept his true gender. The reality however was that mrs. Dubois was a seriously cruel and depraved lady who just loved force-feminizing the pervy crossdressing boy next door after catching me tryng on her pretty undies and stockings. Few people knew that before becoming the very decent and respectable mrs. Dubois, Madge had actually had a rather succesfull career as a very exclusive upscale dominatrix under the name madame M....
                                                     ~
And when Madge introduced me to her older brother Harold, who was a rather stern-looking retired schoolmaster in his early sixties, I had no idea she had already promissed him she would soon have me dreaming of becoming his devoted ultra-feminine trophy bride.....

As usual Madge was probably right......
I had of course been so scared I was almost shaking with fear and apprehension as this actually was the very first time I would be seen by a man in my new role. Madge actually made me do a little curtsey for this intimidating older gentleman who then showered me with compliments on my appearance, femininity and general elegance. That immediately had effect and I blushed profusely. Over time mr. Harold turned out to be quite gentle and polite in his own belittling manner. He would always adress me as young lady and in conversation usually referred to me as our little lady. For some unknown reason I found this slightly belittling attitude quite exciting as it seemed to confirm and finalize my complete acceptance of my feminine nature. I started to revell in showing of my effeminate little affectations to my stern masculine admirer whom I of course still had to adress as Sir. I loved it.... I really wanted him to belittle me, to treat me like the empty headed submissive girlthing I portraied, his pretty little lady... There was something so very sexy about surrendering myself willingly to the life that had earlier been forced upon me.
Seeing the appreciating slightly dirty smile on mr. Harold's face when I timidly tried out a particularly coquettish move or action would almost make me wet my pretty panties. The first few times I was in his presence, nothing really happened beyond some timid flirting and an incidental furtive touch, it was all very formal and polite despite there being a undeniable suppressed erotic tension in the air.

Meanwhile, much to Madge's approval, the situation had raised my interest in dressing up as seductively as possible to seek his approval. I pretended not to see Madge grinning like the proverbial Cheshire cat when I insisted on wearing my highest stiletto's, the tightest most restrictive foudationwear and my prettiest dresses when Harold was visiting. I also made an extra effort with my hair and make-up to show my total compliance to being the desireable delicate ultra feminine princess that Madge had forced me to become. It often feels like there is this authorative inner voice that for some reason makes me do and desire these experiences. The voice that seems to find an almost sadistic pleasure in destroying all that is left of Timmy and it seems to fully echo Madge's opinions and demands. It's of course also the delightful silky feel of the clothes, the feminine fabrics, and how they feel when I walk and move about and how they constantly seem to caress my body when I'm wearing a particularly figurehugging slip or dress .  To feel how my garter straps pulled on my stocking tops, and how tight the girdle is and how it molds me into a feminine shape.  And how the nylons shine and how slippery and silky they feel on my smooth legs and how you can hear their swishy noises with each step as my smooth feminine legs rub against each other. It is amongst others these intoxicating sensations that gave Madge this power over me to begin with and she exploited my weakness to the full as everything she allowed me to wear now was exclusively made of slinky feminine materials like nylon, silk, satin or taffeta.... Needless to say that anything that even vaguely resembled boys clothes had been thrown out or even burned ages ago.
So here I was again, dressed up to the nines in an exquisite impossibly narrow and restrictive black taffetta skirt and an equally glamorous creme satin blouse. Underneath I wore a pretty little padded push-up bra that made the small fleshy mounds on my chest look like real boobies and a beautiful high girdle with six suspenders that held up a pair of shiney fully fashioned black nylons with perfectly straight seams. Of course I wore a pair of extremely higheeled stiletto's and every strand of my very feminine light-blonde hairdo was kept perfectly in place with a liberal dose of hairspray. Sparkling glossy lips,  glamorous false eyelashes and a pair of pretty diamond earrings completed the look. Madge was totally delighted. "Darling, you look absolutely perfect, my brother will totally love you like this, so deliciously helpless, delicate and ladylike, just how he likes it. And furthermore, now you seem to like him so much, I think it would, from now on, be appropriate to great him with a sweet little kiss...He'll like that.... Look honey, I know that deep down you are still fighting your true nature but I'm convinced your pretty little panties are straining to keep your little thingie down in its silken prison every time you are in his presence. My brother has that effect on the ladies" I was shure I was blushing profusely as she had of course been right...."Look sweetheart, you just stand close to him on tippytoes and give him a sweet little kiss on the mouth, nothing wildly intimate of course as you know that in general I don't much appreciate public displays of affection. Both me and my brother just prefer to keep to a certain amount of decorum and reticence, even in amorous matters like these. What you two get up to when you are alone however is of course completely up to my brother. Although mr. Harold will always behave like the perfect gentleman, a masculine man like him still has needs and desires, especially when he is in the company of a very sexy young lady like you."
When Madge led me to the lounge where mr. Harold would be awaiting us I was very nervous. Of course I had toyed with the idea but actually kissing a man was still a step further than the last remaining bit of Timmy could take but my Tiffany side was totally overjoyed at the prospect and could barely wait to finally show mr. Harold my utterly feminine devotion.
So when we entered the room and mr. Harold rose from his seat to greet us, looking particularly imposing and handsome in a expensive conservative suit and tie, I wasted no time and elegantly minced over to kiss my mature dream-man on the lips just like Madge had told me to. Mr. Harold had actually put his large muscular hands on my waist when our lips met and it had felt totally wonderful. And when he reacted by looking down on me with a superior little smile on his face and said: " Thank you for that, darling, that was very very sweet.", I blushed profusely whilst fluttering my eyelashes . It wasn't so much the whole act itself that had sent my mind into a delicious turmoil as it was the gesture of submission to this masculine older gentleman. In the company of this real man I was constantly reminded that I was obviously destined to be the fragile ultra-feminine princess that mrs. Dubois had insisted I must become.
Madge was of course ecstatic over her latest victory and decided we should have drinks. "As our little lady has been so deliciously cooperative recently I think miss Tiffany is grown up enough to have a drink with us now.... so Champagne it is."
So whilst the three of us had a glass of bublies and Madge and her brother made polite smalltalk, I was still a bit giddy from earlier happenings and acutely aware of the presence of the man I just kissed. And he kept looking me over too with an expression of what looked like a combination of desire and mild amusement on his face. Of course Madge's conditioning had me reacting as amenable as possible to his  manly attention by timidly blushing and fluttering my eyelashes at him. And as she predicted, unlike all outward appearances, I once again had a very unladylike little bulge in my pretty little panties. I just couldn't help it, even when I should probably be disgusted, this manly older man seemed to push all my girly buttons.
So after finishing her second glass of champagne an obviously very content Madge politely excused herself with the explanation that she had an important call to make and had to leave us alone for a bit. When Madge had left the room, mr. Harold sat down on the couch and padding the place next to him gestured me to join him and of course I eagerly complied and elegantly strolled over to the couch to sit down as close to him as possible. "May I say you are looking extremely glamorous and feminine today, darling. "Upon which I again blushed and timidly mumbled a "Thank you, sir". He then smilingly asked me if that meant I would give him another little kiss, with me of course nervously murmuring a meek "Yes sir"whilst looking up to him longingly. And then it happened...., the first little kiss was still quite innocent but then I felt his big hand slipping around my slender silken waist and he kissed me again, this time more ardently and I hesitantly let his thick muscular tongue slip into my mouth...The kiss seemed to last forever and then came another and another.....And by then my arms were lovingly resting on his shoulders and I was virtually rubbing my slender body against him, his one hand still posessively holding me around my waist whilst the other was gently caressing my smooth nylon-encased knee. I was in a delicious trance....and we must have been making out like this for almost twenty minutes or so when a polite knock on the door anounced the return of Madge. Of course we hastily returned to a pose of almost complete innocence although I must still have looked a bit dishevelled when she entered the room and looked us over with a sly knowing smile on her face. She then informed Harold he was needed elsewhere for an urgent business matter and after allowing me to give him a polite little goodbye-kiss she sent me off to fix my make-up. My make-up wasn't the only thing that had to be fixed though as I had obviously spontaneously orgasmed during the proceedings and had to clean up down  there too. Luckily Madge had me carrying an extra pair of pretty knickers in my purse for just these kind off circumstances.....

Madge was of course completely ecstatic about recent happenings and though nothing much was actually divulged about her future plans for me, the fact that during the following days (my beloved mr. Harold would not be visiting for at least a week) Madge had me studying every upscale bridal catalogue and magazine she had been able to lay her hands on, should have been a clue...........

Chrystal's exquisite little excursions

There was a much earlier post called 'chrystals naughty adventures' but i never finished it. Partly that was because my cataract had gone so bad that i'd gone functionally blind(hence the bad quality images) and at that point even writing had become difficult. So when i recently reiewed it, i noticed it would be worth re-doing it and finishing the story and that's basically what i did. It's quite short but i have the feeling there might be a part2 one of these days.....

Chrystal's  exquisite little excursions

Ever since I started dressing up as a girl in my early teens I've been fascinated by glamorous fourties and fifties fashions and the big moviestars of those days have always been my rolemodels. I've spent years in front of my mirror trying to emulate them, wearing the most extravagant elegant outfits, fully fashioned stockings, scyscraper heels and all that goes with it.  However, at a certain point it's just not enough sitting at home being ravishing and I started acting out little scenario's to make it all a bit more exciting and perhaps a little more dangerous. At first it was just late night walks where I would incidentally be confronted by gentlemen giving me lustfull looks, cars slowing down amd hooting their horns as they drove by and spotted me.

More and more I was seeking these confrontations. I kept an eye out for the times when certain neighbours walked their dogs or went for a late night stroll and the walks concentrated on places where I could bump into people, especially older gentlemen. At some point I discovered hailing a taxi driving by and consequently being completely regarded and treated as a lady. That was so exciting that it became a regular feature on my little outings. It even got me shyly entering a quiet local bar for a drink without anyone doubting my gender for a second and one or two gentlemen coyly flirting with the intimidatingly dressed young vamp I portrayed. It was all a bit scary at first but so very very exciting in the end.

The Photographer.....

Mr Pierce was this dishy older man who had a little shop/coffeecorner with a small museum of Hollywood glamour pictures and memorabillia in the back, which was of course way up my street. The place had offered quite a bit of inspiration over the years.

Mr Pierce did however got a bit of a reputatiom for getting a bit too touchy feely with some of the young ladies who came in to pose for  glamour pictures of themselves in Hollywood style. As a new adventure for my delicious alter ego I had kinda decided to give this rather attractive pervy senior citizin his perfect model and possibly seduce him a bit in the process..........

The plan would be happening next weekend when mother would be on a bizniz trip. She obviously knew about my little hobby(not many boys have a 40  square ft walk-in closet filled with dresses, shoes and wigs in their bedroom(built it mysef during the hollidays...) but it was never discussed so I kept some things from her, like my outside activities. Mother seemed to be alright with my little hobby as long as it was kept to my part of the house and out of her direct sight. I accepted that for the time being as I didn't want to disturb the status quo.

I'm not shure why meeting up with a man like mr Pierce was so alluring to me. It wasn't about actual sex , I just wanted to flirt a little and to be lusted after by someone older who could apreciate me in the role of a delicate and vulnerable 1950's young miss. The danger that I may unwittingly find myself in a situation beyond my controll, made the whole thing even more exciting. It was both scary and terribly exciting. Fear is kinda sexy, think it's about surrendering oneself and a feeling of delicious vulnerability

So when the time was there, I walked to the shop that was only a few blocks from my house. I was still a bit apprehensive towards what might happen as this was going a bit further than any of my earlier adventures. I had planned to arrive there just after 11 when mr. Pierce had closed the shop and I could present myself to him as the proverbial 'damsel in distress' in need of a telephone to call a taxi.

I'd taken hours getting dressed up in my finest taffetta gown, doin' my hair and make-up and nails but in the end it had all been worth it when I saw the expression on his face when he first saw me, timidly standing there at his door. His eyes were almost popping out of their sockets at the vision of near perfect fifties glamour I portrayed. I loved it.....

"Dear sir, I apologize for calling on you so late at night but can I please use your phone to call a taxi? I'd be ever so gratefull?, I nervously mumbled.

"No need to apoligize my dear. A beautifull young lady like yourself can use my telephone any time she wants, so please come in." A few moments later, after I had made my bogus phonecall, this friendly mature gentleman politely guided his surprise vistor into the small bar area.

"My dear young lady, will you have a drink with me while you wait for your taxi? Out here and at this hour, it will probaby take at least an hour for it to get here..." Off course , feigning timid shyness, I accepted his offer on the term that he would get me 'something sweet and strong', whilst I coquettishly fluttered my false eyelashes at him.

So here I was, all dressed up as a sexy young diva from a 1950's movie, showing myself off to this sophisticated elderly casanova, shivers of excitement running through my slendersilk encased body whilst trying to be as feminine and seductive as I could. By then Mr Pierce was almost drooling when he was looking at me.......I felt sooooo sexy and desired, it was totally mindblowing and this was probably just the beginning.....

After a few drinks whilst discussing our mutual love for fifties movies and fashions, mr. Pierce asked me if I would be interested in posing for a few photographs, me being obvously being so right for the role.

In the end this lovely gentleman actually offered me 200 dollar an hour to pose for him and as the drinks had done their job and I discovered there were some very exciting and classy outfits in his prop-room, I enthousiastically accepted the offer. There was this exquisite green silk gown that was to die for and I just 'had' to wear and Mr Pierce  seemed to agree because when he helped to zip me up in it I noticed a distinct manly bulge in his pants...

So for the next half hour I indolently lounged around his studio draped in luxurious furs, dazzling dresses and mindblowingly sexy negligees like a real Hollywood diva. Of course I was acutely aware of what my flirtatious behaviour was doing to this wonderfull man. He was so masculine and commanding that I really started to lust after him like the wanton seductress I was portraying. Every time he accidently or purposely touched me or came near, I felt a delicious shiver going through me and more and more I was seeking these contacts myself. I would accidentally brush against him, timidly putting my hand on his arm for support or stand so close to him I actually felt his breath on me. He smelled of expensive brandy and cigars, just like a gentleman should.

Now for the last few pics I was supposed to be the romantic lead in an Italian movie from te fifties. Mr. Pierce had me wear a very elegant Valentino coat, kid leather gloves and a gorgeous Dolce & Gabana headscarf whilst I was posing as the young timid beauty anxiously waiting to meet her secret lover. For the sake of authenticity my 'Director' had chosen the old bushelter across the street from his house as a

background. It was clearly one of Mr Pierce's favourite movies as he seemed to get very excited at my coquettish portrayal of the role. So much so that in the end he put down his camera and decided to make the scene complete by him playing the romantic latin lover. The scenario demanded that this masculine man was moving in very close to his mysterious young mistress now, I could hear his heavy breathing as his hands settled on my waist and by then I was almost shaking with both anticipation and fear, mixed with actual erotic excitement. If I hadn't had those drinks I would probably have fainted or chickened out. And now I willingly surrendered myself to this masculine older man who was forcefully pushing me into the back of this dark busshelter whilst ardently kissing me. Me, still in the role of the demure timid little lady, was of course totally and befittingly overwhelmed by his urgent manly avances and I wantonly opened my mouth to let his thick muscular tongue enter....

Mr Pierce's gentle forcefulness and his husky very manly voice whispering halfbaked expressions of love and


desire to me, were sending shivers down my quivering body and almost consumed my susceptible deviant little mind. I guess this was one of those 'beyond my controll' situations I mentioned earlier as I really wanted him to do all kinds of  things to me, I wanted him to carry me off to his lair and take me.......There was however one little problem. I just didn't want to chicken out yet and let this wonderfull illusion end so I decided to take the initiative and reached for the significant bulge in his pants. Such forwardness in this initially so timid little lady made my 'leading man' even more passionate in his avances so when I finally unzipped him and slowly and expertly(remember I'm actually a teenage boy, we know things) started to masturbate him, he was soon lost..... I had then lifted up my skirts and manouvered his throbbing manhood under there so he was now virtually fucking my hand  and only moments later I made him ejaculate into my frilly satin panties, still nothing the wiser about my neatly tucked away little secret. Afterwards I got out a hanky to clean us both up a bit and then we kissed a bit more untill my 'boyfriend' packed up his (photograhic)equipment and like a real gentleman offered me his arm to guide me back into the house.........This had been an excellent little adventure and it obviously needed following up on..........


Chrystal

Young 'Lady' Gina's homeschooling

I was still called George when I moved in with my slightly excentric aunt Celia almost two years ago, after my mother had a serious nervous breakdown due to my lecherous oger of a father leaving us. For some reason aunty, after walking in on me wearing her prettiest undies and high heels, had taken up encouraging (and accomodating) my little transvestite affectation to the full. Aunty sorta found it a delightfull and classy foible and decided that she was from now on going to refer to me as Georgina and that I was going to be her 'special project'. I was a stroke of luck, an exotic delicacy she could proudly present to her exclusive circle of 'strange' friends. Aunty was a beautiful and well preserved woman in her early fifties. She was definitely slightly depraved and had a seriously mischievous nature but she always hid these assets behind her delightfull and totally irresistable charm. I was provided with the prettiest lingerie, stockings and dresses. There were beautiful wigs and the most exquisite of highheeled shoes. Everything a glamorous young society miss could possibly desire and more. On top of that, aunty spent hours and hours instructing me how to walk, talk and in all aspects behave like the ultra feminine debutante she wanted me to portray. I would elegantly mince around her apartment in the highest of heels untill it became second nature. In the end, when my calve muscles had adjusted to them it actually became a chore 'not' to wear them. Aunty had by now completely taken over my life but for someome like me, who had already been attracted to the delights on offer, the rewards were just too big and there was no way I could possibly fight the temptation, even if I had wanted to. And although her tone of voice always sounded almost sugary sweet, there was often a slight undertone of wickedness in it and when I didn't react to her demands fast enough she didn't hesitate to use her elegant little riding crop on my stockinged legs or my silk encased girly bum. For my further education I was made to read excerpts from romantic novels, girly- and fashion magazines and was made to watch romantic moviescenes. Of course I was to do so from the vieuwpoint of a romantic young miss, and one afternoon a week a ladyfriend of aunty gave me speech therapy where I was to read out loud from said publications in my sweetest feminine voice.

 I was made to read  girly- and fashion magazines
and one afternoon a week a ladyfriend of aunty
gave me speech therapy where I was to read out
loud from said publications in my sweetest
feminine voice

My dressing was not just restricted to girls clothes, it was only the most feminine apparel that would do, only silks, satins and taffetta were allowed and i would never be seen without full make-up and glamorous false lashes. I always wore fully fashioned nylons, the prettiest of silk undies, beautifully decorated corsets, lacy bra's and when apropriate for the dress or skirt, ellaborate petticoats or slips. Having my smooth body caressed and at the same time permanently restricted by these sensual materials made my head spin and made me feel like I was living in a strange but beautifull dream.

And then there were the romance and dating lessons for which I was dressed particularly sexy and glamorous, just as if I was a real lady going on a romantic date with a gentleman.
For my tutoring in the romantic arts aunty had an expensive replica of a classic Pierre Imans mannequin of an older gentleman, dressed in an expensive conservative suit and tie, sitting on the sofa beside me. She told me he was called Herbert and was now my 'boyfriend'. She told me she had a few little improvements made to it so he'd be more lifelike and 'anatomically  correct' as aunty explained with a slightly mischievous look on her face. I had actually already noticed that Herbert appeared to have a quite substantial manly bulge in his trousers and I didn't think that's standard for mannequins like these.

For my tutoring in the romantic arts aunty had
an expensive replica of a classic Pierre Imans
mannequin of an older gentleman, dressed in an
expensive conservative suit and tie

Under aunty's supervision I was taught how to flirt with my handsome masculine boyfriend, resulting in being made to act out a serious making out scene which involved me sitting on his lap arms around his neck and passionately kissing him. That's when I found out that aunty had some more improvements added to Herberts functionality as the more passionate my embraces seemed, his manly bulge started to softly vibrate and my fantasy suitor actually produced a heavy breathing sound and gave of soft manly throath sounds.
I very soon started to enjoy the pretend kissing sessions whilst sitting on his lap, feeling his manlyness come to live under me. In my little warped wanton mind he'd put his manly hand on my silky smooth stockinged legs, and I would eventually accidentally touch him 'there' and have an innocent little feel. I would wriggle my little girly bum about and teased him mercilessly, all of it resulting in a gradually intensifying of the vibrating in my boyfriend's manly regions.
At first I thougt I would hate having to master flirting techniques like batting my eye lashes, pouting just so and even to how I should lick my lips or feign feebleness or fragillity to attract male attention but I was really getting into the role now and getting very exciting by it. Aunty would be making loads of pictures to show me how to act and to be as convincing as I possibly could in my role. She'd instructed me how to coquettishly adjust a strand of hair, to cross my stockinged legs in a certain way or to timidly adjust his tie, she was very thorough when it came to these details. And to keep the fantasy alive she kept telling me how Herbert fancied me and how I was falling desperately in love with him in her sweetest

I very soon started to enjoy
the pretend kissing sessions
whilst sitting on his lap

voice. When i finally got to see aunty's pictures, the scene was that of a beautiful young miss in a pretty partydress, passionately making out with a distinguished older man. Through the lighting and the camera angles, my brilliant aunt made it so that there was almost no telling that 'my' Herbert wasn't real and seeing myself like this was both confusing and so very very exciting...... A few of the best pictures were neatly framed and now decorated my ultra feminine bedroom as a reminder of my desired romantic orientation. It worked of course, when I lay in my bed, dressed in one of my ultra sexy satin nighties, I kept imagining myself as the girl in the pictures with the difference that in my fantasy the gentleman in the picture wasn't Herbert but a real man. That mere thought at first scared me but in the end it had little hormonally challenged me relieve myself multiple times into one of my pretty silk hankies like aunty had taught me....... 
Aunty had obviously forseen the effect her machinations were having on me and decided to take it a step further so one evening I was told that I should learn to dress up a bit special for the more intimate romantic moments a young lady may encounter. Aunty had obviously done some shopping for the occasion as there were a number of bags from the chiquest lingerie shop in town on the bed in her room. First, after my bath, I was fully made up and a beautifully styled blonde wig was added. Of course I was already wearing a set of glamorous salon nails.The cutest black satin and lace french knickers matched the 'Kiss Me Deadly' waistcincher/suspenderbelt perfectly and a pair of black fully fashioned nylons were now encasing my smooth legs. Next was the frilliest and flounciest transparent babydoll nighty I've ever seen. It had a matching floorlength robe and fluffy bedroom mules to go with it. Looking in the mirror almost made me buckle at the knees, for looking back at me was an absolute dream of overtly sexualized femininity. I could easily have featured in a Frederick's of Hollywood lingerie catalogue. When aunty hugged me she whispered:"I bet you'd love to show yourself off to some handsome man now,darling." "Yes aunty",I meekly replied. "Let's make some pretty pictures then" she then said whilst ushering me to my own bedroom. She had obviously planned everything as she had the whole photography thing professsionally set up with lighting and everything and to my surprise, there in my bed was Herbert dressed in classic striped gentlemans pijamas in burgundy satin. I now he isn't real of course but he looked soooooo handsome and the promiss of the undoubtedly sexy pictures to come from this little scenario made aunty's game rather exciting. When aunty had taken her place behind the camera, I was instructed to seductively slip out of my robe and sit down on the edge of the bed before slipping between the lush satin sheets with my boyfriend. Meanwhile the camera was clicking away. For the next shots I was to position myself in his arms for a first kiss and a closer body contact when I again felt his manhood softly starting to vibrate againsy my own girlish little penis. Aunty had also added a few new sounds to Herberts repertoire as a low manly voice softly moaned things things like "oh, yes baby", "darling" and "I love you"at my touches. She took pictures from several angles and moved us around where needed to achieve the most erotic and realistic images. Meanwile I was having the time of my life, rubbing my boyclit against Herberts large vibrating manhood and virtually squirming in my imaginary boyfriends arms  whilst once again pretending he was a real man.

My hand had almost accidentally moved to his crotch, and I threw my other arm around his neck and kissed his lips  I didn't care that his eyes stayed open or he didn't respond, I was totally lost in the fantasy of being close to a mature manly man and now both my arms were around his neck drawing myself even closer to  him.

My right hand was moving over his crotch again, touching his hard manhood, stroking it lightly through the material of his pijamabottoms which resulted in a moan and another husky"yes darling". For the next shot, my 'lover' was to lie on top of me and the realistic weight of the doll really made me feel as if this 'man' was physically in controll of the delicate little lady I was becoming. I was once again in extacy but it got even better as aunty explained that Herbert was actually so anatomically correct that I would be able to let my lover enter my boipussy. So, after lowerin' his pj bottom, a cushion under my girly bum  and some lubrication aunty helped us get in the right position to let his very realistic vibrating 8 inch enter me. Of course my darling was moaning again and telling me that he loved me. I had of coursed practiced with the dildo my aunt had provided so initially he went  in without much problems but the full 8 inch was still a new challenge. There was however another feature aunty had not informed me about for after a while of quiet gentle vibrations I actually felt a kind of thumping action going on as if my fantasy lover was actually starting to actively fuck me....It drove me crazy and by now I was so randy that I was now loudly responding to my boyfriends programmed moans and utterings of affection with similar statements of my own.  My legs encircled his and my hands were holding on to his hard bum enthousiastically welcoming the whole 8 inch of his manhood into my now so wanton pussy. With me now totally in rapture, aunty's camera was clicking away shot after shot of her totally adorable 'niece' and her suitor. At a certain point my body was actually shaking with anticipation as I almost passed out in a prolonged  almost female orgasm like I had never experieced before. I must still have laid there for  almost 20 minutes basking in the afterglow of the experience after aunty had shut down Herberts active functions and gently relieved him of his manly duties by getting him off and out of me. I don't think it really counts as being deflowered but it kinda felt that way to me. I haven't really given myself to a man but I've surrendered myself to the concept of giving myself to a man if you see what I mean. I really couldn't wait for the photo's..........

Aunty knew how to play a game as next day,  fifty yellow roses were delivered with a card from Herbert thanking me for the night........

The following days passed in a virtual daze and I was especially enthousiast and motivated to become the perfect glamorous little lady that aunty had coerced me to become. Even more so when after a few days aunty showed me the final printed pictures of my night of passion. They were even better than the earlier ones and a permanent reminder of my obvious talents as an extremely sexy young seductress.

So when later that week I once again found myself dressed up to the hilt in an expensive taffetta  evening gown and in the highest stilletto's I had ever worn, I knew  something special was coming. So when aunty had led me into the lounge where I had expected Herbert, I noticed something was different. My delightfully immoral Aunty had a mischievous smile on her face and whispered in her most amenable tone of voice: "Now little lady, I want you to meet my good friend Harold who volunteered to stand in for Herbert today. I had shown him some of your romantic pictures as he had helped me out with Herberts wardrobe and as a result he insisted on helping us out today. I think you two are going to become very good friends so go sit with him and give him a sweet little kiss". As soon as I did Harold immediately posessively slipped his arm around my corsetted waist and whispered "pleased to meet you, darling".  Harold looked quite a bit like Herbert, maybe slightly older and wearing the same type of suit and tie. He was definitely a real man of flesh and blood though. When he spoke I got convinced he had also been the source of Herberts voice recordings. It was very familiar and after my earlier experiences with that voice slightly unnerving. I was already starting to get very excited at today's lesson. As this was supposedly my exam I already knew what was expected of me and of course I'd enthousiastically participate in said scenario. Seducing this masculine older gentleman and making him fall in love with me would, for the time being, be my only goal in life................The poor man never had a chance,  I'm a very very good student....so when aunty had left us alone to get 'acquainted' and Harold's arm was still around my waist, I took the initiative and I daringly put my hand on his thigh and whilst fluttering my eyelashes I timidly looked up at him. He obviously got my cue and a tender kiss was the result, followed by a much more ardent one where his muscular tongue slipped into my mouth, which totally overwhelmed me. The feeling of surrender when I let this older man's tongue invade me was immense. I virtually threw my arms around his neck to make this sensual mouthcontact continue whilst pressing my slender silk-encased body tantalizingly against my suitor's strong masculine frame. So when aunty returned half an hour later she found us lovebirds still enthousiastically making out while I was seated on his lap rubbing my silky bum against his hard throbbing manhood and his hand was under my taffetta skirt and petticoats, lovingly caressing my smooth nylon encased thighs.....

~

The man across the street.....

I almost subconsciously started
to play for a (possible)audience

The man across the street....

As long as I can remember people had remarked how with my pretty face, slight build and general demeanor I should have been a girl. After my parents had died in a car  accident, I now lived with my glamorous young aunt Charlotte who was a business woman who owned a chain of upscale fashion boutiques. Now, being a hormonal 16 year old adolescent, I was fascinated by her totally glamorous and sexualized way of dressing. Always wearing the highest of heels possible, tight satin dresses, always perfectly made up and with fabulous hair, she was a teenager's wet dream personified. I kinda idolized her. In hindsight I should say that my sentiment was somewhere between lust and 'wanting to be like her' but I didn't quite realize that untill much later.

Which brings me to my one small vice. You see, after being told how much I looked like a girl so often, one day I decided to see for myself. So after my aunt went out one evening, I snuck into her room to try on some of my beautifull aunty's gorgeous clothes. I was instantly overwhelmed by the sensuous feel of  silk, satin, nylon, and lace caressing my body. But the biggest surprise came when I looked at myself. I wasn't stunning, but I did look like a  girl, probably even a rather pretty one. So, after that revelation I got hooked on the concept and started dressing up whenever I could, every time getting a bit better at looking and acting like a real young miss.

Sometimes I'd dress all out in one of aunty's formal gowns, do my hair and make-up, and eventually make myself cum in my pretty panties as I pretended to wait for my masculine boyfriend to take me to the dance.


But how can I explain all the sensations that brought me to where I now was?

Once I get dressed I have to be sure I act as a lady completely, only feminine movements , actions and (even)motivations were allowed. I'm acutely conscious of my false lashes every time I blink or flutter and I am absolutely shure I always have to walk elegantly in the highest heels possible. There is this authorative inner voice that makes me take all this as far as I possibly can.  The voice that seems to find an almost sadistic pleasure in destroying all that is left of the boy in me. It's also the delightful silky feel of the clothes, the feminine fabrics, and how they feel when I walk and move and how they slip and slide against each other under my dresses.  And how the garter straps pull the stocking tops tight, and how tight the girdle is and how they smooth me into a feminine shape.  And how the nylons shine and how slippery and silky they feel on my smooth legs and how you can hear that zipping sound with each step as my calves and thighs rub together. These feelings I can only try to explain to someone who hasn't experienced such sensations him/herself.

My body totally smooth now, shaved from just below my perfectly shaped eyebrows to the tips of my gloss red pedicured toes.  Everything I now wore was made of nylon, silks, satin and taffeta.  I wore in a tight six strap garter belt that held fully fashioned nylon stockings tight and taut high on my smooth hairless thighs, the tight sheer fabric caressing my legs with each mincing step . The sensation of being deprived of wearing even a single stitch of masculine clothing by my own free will was mesmerizing.


So meanwhile I had continued to indulge myself in my increasingly elaborate and detailed dress-up sessions at home. As aunty often left the place to me when she was away on business for a few days, I had all the opportunity to so. Over past few months I had bought quite a few items of ladies apparel of my own and had aquaired a few beautiful wigs.  And so in the evenings, when I had the place to myself, I'd get dressed up in one of aunty's prettiest party-dresses, of course complete with fabulous make-up, hair and all the trimmings, fantasizing about me as my beautifull aunt's very glamorous young niece having a quiet night in, lounging around savouring the very erotic sensations of the sensual materials enveloping my body and more and more often there were thoughts mixed in about being lusted after by and being forced to make out passionately with masculine older men. I'm not shure where that idea had come from (probably my'evil' inner voice again)  but for some reason the thought excited me to no end.

The whole idea of being seen and lusted after as a pretty girl seemed to amplify all the sensations of this already disturbing game. And then one night when I was once again dressed up to the nines, I noticed that in the house across the street there was someone standing in the window looking out. I wondered if he, as it obviously looked like a man, could see me from there? The thought grew on me and from that moment I almost subconsciently started to play for a (possible)audience.

The whole idea of being seen and lusted after
as a pretty girl seemed to amplify all the
sensations of this already disturbing game.

I positioned myself so the onlooker would have best possible view when I let my skirt accidentally ride up and mercilessly taunted the viewer with the coquettish poses and mannerisms I had been practicing in front of the mirror. I had of course put on my make-up more extreme than any decent young miss would ever have worn in public. My perfectly applied eye-liner and false lashes made me look very seductive and glamorous and my lipstick was so glossy it was almost obscene. My earrings were outrageous too, in shimmering silver and rhinestones that flashed and sparkeled with the least movement of my head and my platinumblonde hair. A very classy wig, of course. I felt deliciously wicked and wanton, a true teenage vamp, and it excited me deeply. The house across the street belonged to old mr.Blenkinsop who was the retired librarian of the local highschool of whom it was rumoured that he was a bit of a Don Juan. And although I knew that there was no way someone would clock me as anything but a very pretty girl once dressed up, he may of course still make the link with the fair boy across the street who lived with his glamorous  aunt. For some reason that didn't alarm me a bit so when my 'admirer' once again appeared in view the next night, I just continued my little 'show' for him. I was dressed in the beautifull designer cocktailgown I had bought online a few weeks ago. It was in a gorgeous peach satin and the flaring petticoated skirt was about kneelength. It was the first dress I'd ever owned myself. He must have stood there for at least ten minutes before he moved away from the window. I now saw the light behind his front door come on and I suddenly remembered that it must be around 10.30 ,the time when mr.Blenkinsop usually walks his dog. I was right because there, in the doorway, was mr.Blenkinsop with his prize poodle. Still looking in my direction obviously. It's not that he goes for long walks, it's usually to the end of the street on his side and than back on our side of the street. This does mean that in a few minutes he would be passing our place up close and in my little depraved mind I found myself looking forward to the opportunities that created. Would I really dare to? And how far would I let this take me? As I moved up to look out on the street the man was just across the street and looked straight at me before his doggie urged him on his way. I had almost blown him a kiss there and then but that was probably a bit more forward than I dared to be at that moment. Instead I then poured myself glass of whine and nervously waited for my'beau' to return from his walk, elegantly moving around the room to the soft tones of 'The Love Unlimited Orchestra'.  By now in such a state of anticipation and sexual excitement that it actually caused my tightly tucked away boy-genitals to slowly ooze fluids that  made me wet my pretty silky panties in an almost girly manner. Of course I kept an eye on the street to see if was coming and when he appeared infront of the house next door I positioned myself close to the window in a way that looked completely natural and as if I was only casually interested in the whole thing. It's one of those ladylike mannerisms one pics up when studying to become a teen-vamp. The mischievous smile on my face would be saying something different though. Even when he was still in front of the neighbour's house I noticed he was furtively looking my way(probably without much success at that angle). I was standing next to a curtain from where I could give him a perfect almost close-up view of his ídol'. So when he appeared and looked straight at me, I was gently rockin' from side to side, gyrating my delicate body to the sound of Barry and his orchestra, casually adjusting a strand of hair and taking a ladylike sip of my drink. My naughty expression was there, I knew that, but I still didn't look him straight in the face untill he gave the impression he was moving onward. Thinking I had lost the moment I  smiled my sexiest gurly smile at the already departing gentleman and when he looked over his shoulder one more time before returning home, I actually blew him a kiss. And although he looked back at our place once more, I saw him and the dog go inside and the doorlight went out. I was a bit disappointed but also relieved as I also had no idea how to react as the older man had actually pursued this fantasy..I shivered, and then the doorlight went on again and out stepped my admirer, this time without dog and wearing a jacket and tie. And when he starting to walk over towards our house I almost panicked and I wanted to hide. What the hell did I think? At that point my devious inner voice took over once again so when I heard the doorbel ring, it was like I was in a trance of some sort and I calmly went to answer it . Although almost frightened to death by my own courage, my wicked inner voice actually made me open the front door and there in the doorway was our neighbour, mr. Blenkinsop! He unashamedly stared at me and I stared back, petrified actually. I couldn't speak, I didn't quite know what to say.

I was still completely out of it when he smiled and asked "Well hello there. And who do we have here? What do you call yourself , young lady?"

"Delicia" I stammered. "That's a very pretty name for a very sexy girl, honey " He said with a wicked smile on his face.

He then stepped forward and put his hands on my waist, holding me rather firmly while he was breathing heavily. I knew something was going to happen that was beyond my control. He  pushed me back against the wall leaning his body against mine. His vainy wrinkly hands holding me were strong, and his manly strength was  strangely exciting to me.

"Oh Mr Blenkinsop!" I mumbled innocently, almost as if in horror, but to him it must have sounded like a sign of arousal as he pressed himself even closer against me. I was almost trembling with both fear and anticipation, and yet I really didn't want to fight it. I was still highly excited and his masculine body against my slim almost girly frame just felt so right, despite my feigned horror. It was really just what I had always wanted to feel, a real man's body against me, his strength virtually overpowering me. I was completely torn, part of me dying to see my fantasies realised, and part of me shocked and almost ashamed that I would ever let something like this happen to me for real.

And I saw the hungry gleam in his eyes when he pushed his quite obviously rigid manhood against me. The thought that I was able to turn a mature manly man like him on so much gave me  an intense thrill that melted my last doubts completely, and when his lips came down on mine , I eagerly opened my mouth to let his thick muscular tongue slip in.

Amazingly, my fantasy was actually happening and it was every bit as exciting as I'd imagined it would be. Mr. Blenkinsop was so very much older and the fact that he was almost old enough to be my grandfather was making this all so deliciously wrong. After passionately making out in the doorway for what felt like ages, I nervously invited him in. I couldn't think straight and my heart was pounding . I dizzily led him into the livingroom where  he sat down on the sofa whilst I poured him a drink before I sat myself down very close beside him. And when I turned towards him, mr. Blenkinsop caught me once again in a deep and passionate kiss, driving all rational thought from my mind. The helpless feeling of the situation flooded me with wild desire to be taken, and I moaned shamelessly as his tongue explored my mouth. His hands were everywhere but when he then caressed my smooth stockinged legs under my skirt and petticoats, I felt like I was losing my virginity there and then. The ones out there who have experienced it, know what a deliciously intimate sensation that is....

Of course the night didn't quite end there but a 'lady'has to keep some things to herself as I'm trying to keep away from the realms of pornography. Needless to say that my 'boyfriend' went home with a big smile on his face later that night....



It thrilled me to no end to think that I could inspire such passion in a mature man. I'm totally convinced he never saw a schoolboy in a pretty dress when he looked at me. He saw a young and very desirable teenage seductress, even when he knew about my little deception. In the end ladies like us tend to dicover that the men who are willing to go with a great illusion over a mediocre reality may outnumber the others. I've been there.

and when he looked over his shoulder one
more time before returning home, I actually
blew him a kiss

I mercilessly taunted the prospective viewer
with the coquettish poses and mannerisms I
had been practicing in front of the mirror.

p.s.the young 'lady' i used in the images is mostly the delightfull Farah Moan.

A final bit of 'Madge and Timmy'.

Well, the fact that nobody but me seems to give a f*ck anyway made me decide i won't bother you any further with this double-act after this. This is my own interpretation. A tiny bit more cinematographic than A.W.'s own illustrations and a bit more vanilla but hey, that's me all over. I am actually quite proud of what i did here as there is more work involved in these than meets the eye....Sometimes my fellow artists whose talents are more in the drawings seem to look down on the ones who have different talents and that's both silly and shortsighted.

Saskia

More 'Madge and Timmy' illustrations by A.W.

Almost simultaneous with AW(Anonymous Writer)'s latest publication on FictionMania i have the honour to publish some more drawings by A.W. him/herself. For the fans. They are in no particular order but you can guess for yourself which image goes with which story.(click on FULL SIZE for the really large version)

FULL SIZE

FULL SIZE

FULL SIZE

FULL SIZE

FULL SIZE

FULL SIZE

 

FULL SIZE

Stepmother's Delicious Revenge

To be completely honest, I competely stole this storyline. That is to say, it was initially an existing story by someone else I changed a bit to suit my own personal preferences purely for masturbatory uses. The point being that after these first adjustments I couldn't stop and kept adding and correcting. At first I was just details but eventually it was the whole reasoning and the underlying thought-processes I had to ellaborate on or correct. So when I finally put it beside the original I had completely rewritten it and it had become something almost completely mine. If it bugs someone or if someone actually feels plagiarized, I'll take it down but I do think I produced something interesting here.

My stepmother was so very very excited!  Tonight, her feminized son Marcella was finally going out on his first romantic date as a girl........with a very mature MAN!


When I tell people they usually think I'm making it all up as these things sound so completely  unlikely to happen in real life, but over a number of years my cruel depraved stepmother, Lavinia, had actually purposely and very effectively been transforming me from a fairly normal teenage boy into a completely feminized pretend-girlfriend for much older men. Just over two years ago,  my leacherous father had ran off with another woman, leaving Lavinia to care for me on her own. She didn't take it very well and I think she had a bit of a breakdown. Lavinia was actually a very beautiful and glamorous woman who had always played the perfect society trophy wife to him so her outrage was in first instance understandable but she took it a bit far. The point being that in response to his betrayal she in turn decided that she would take her own brand of poetic revenge on her cheating husband by virtually unmanning his only son,.... me.
At least that was part of her initial motivation for doing what she did but her enthousiasm and the obvious pleasure she seemed to get from my subjugation clearly said that it was at least partly for her own depraved sexual satisfaction. Certain forms of cruelty just seemed to turn her on.

And so, after two years of mind-altering drugs, strict training and a very thorough

Her authoritive but seductive voice telling me
over and over again what I lucky girl I was
and how much I would enjoy being in the
arms of a masculine older man...

brainwashing, it all came down to this.  Poor me!  I'm still terrified about being sent on a date with this older man, even when I  had been trained for such an occasion for months.  I had been close to tears this afternoon as a totally delighted Lavinia helped me with the especially glamorous hairdo and make-up a young lady absolutely needs for such a romantic outing. Her authoritive but seductive voice telling me over and over again what I lucky girl I was and how much I would enjoy being in the arms of a masculine man... I almost believed her too. Lavinia has that effect on people.. 

Lavinia had posted Marcella's(my) profile on a dating website called Mandate.com, including some very sexy glamorous photos of me.  The description said Marcella was 19 years old  and exclusively interested in dates with much older gentlemen.  Well, within days it seemed like almost a hundred more or less suitable men in the vicinity had eagerly responded.  Lavinia was absolutely delighted when she discovered that she could subject her poor little Marcella to quite a few 'romantic' encounters with elderly men.

Lavinia had of course picked out some very elegant cocktail- and evening-dresses that were both exquisitely sexy and glamorous for her stepson to wear at such occasions.  A strict diet combined with small doses of hormones and strict figure training had given her darling Marcella the shape and look of a very elegant young woman.  And with relentless training and lots of practice, Marcella could now convincingly  walk, talk and move like a real girl. And she didn't stop at the outward apearances, I was also been made very conscious of the

Lavinia had of course picked out
some very elegant cocktail- and
evening-dresses that were both
exquisitely sexy and glamorous
for her stepson

sensual and erotic sides of being an ultra feminine glamour puss. There were the erotic experiences that go with being dressed in nothing but silks and satins, beautifull nylon stockings and restrictive corsets but there was also the realization of the effect the glamorous young miss I saw in the mirror, would have on......men. And the consequences that may result from that. Lavinia was very thorough and costs didn't seem to play a role. The prettiest of designer clothes, Manolo Blahnik shoes and the prettiest lingerie one could imagine, I had everything the young spoiled society princess, Lavinia was forcing me to become, could possibly desire. There were also the 'educational' dress-up games where I was totally immersed in extremely feminine fantasy roles and of course the extravagant costumes that befitted such characters.  One day it would be Cinderella, the next it was a Southern Belle or even a beautifull Bride. All to get me to think and act like a real romantically inclined girlygurl. Whether you like it or not, in time this stuff will do something to you. Once you realize how feminine you have already become,..you may very well give up the fight and start to revel in your own effeminate status and role. The mind is a strange thing and it may help you realize there are very exciting and enticing erotic delights to be had too.

And so now it was finally time for Marcella's first romantic encounter.  The date was to take

place at a classy french restaurant downtown where Lavinia, wearing a wig and sunglasses sat at a nearby table and silently watched the complete show!  Marcella's date, an almost distinguished looking executive in his late sixties, was practically drooling throughout dinner, eying the pretty young miss sitting at his table. What gave Lavinia even greater satisfaction was the fact that the man had turned out to be one of father's old business associates and drinking buddies.  Although I vaguely recognised him and for a moment feared I would be recognized, I ferociously flirted with the older gentleman just like my stepmother had trained me to. For some reason we find it much easier to do and think what we are told than to make these decisions and choices ourselves. Especially if these decisions and choices are made by someone who we implicitly trust to be right like my rather formidable stepmother. In the end the things we are made to do or feel are not our responsibillity anymore and that almost results in a feeling of freedom... As long as those things don't clash with more deepfounded needs or wants we may have, not being responsible is ,a hell of an attractive concept.  I think that must be one of the reasons for the success of stage-hypnotists.......

Watching the whole play, she so carefully planned, unfold for real, was getting Lavinia very

I ferociously flirted with
the older gentleman

very excited.  She even felt her panties become damp as she saw the couple playing footsie under the table and then saw Marcella's date gently caressing Marcella's stockinged knee.  Marcella was perfect, there was nothing left of his earlier fear and reluctance, and he was all coquettish gestures and furtive touches, just as Lavinia had instructed. This was going even better than she had originally hoped ! It was a total delight, if Marcella's disgusting father could have seen it, he would have had a spontaneous heart-attack. She could of course send him a picture and for a brief moment Lavinia considered doing so. When dinner was over and our lovebirds left the restaurant, the older man holding his date posessively around the waist, Lavinia followed the seemingly very enamoured couple out to the parking lot where she found the two passionately making out, the older man pressing her stepson against his car as he aggressively kissed the beautifull pretend girl. Marcella's arms were tightly wrapped around

Marcella was perfect, there was nothing left
of his earlier fear and reluctance, and he was
all coquettish gestures and furtive touches
, just as Lavinia had instructed.

his neck, clearly welcoming her elderly admirer's avid avances. After what seemed like almost half an hour or so, the obviously excited elderly gentleman helped his beautiful conquest into his car.  Soon the two would be back at the gentleman's home or hotelsuite, where a very willing Marcella would intimately pleasure his date with his beautifully manicured hands and his glossy red lips.  As Lavinia watched them drive off, she actually almost had a spontaneous orgasm imagining her lovely stepson lovingly sucking on his mature boyfriend's penis or even getting.......... MMmmmmmm....
With her head almost spinning with excitement about tonight's 'show', Lavinia rushed home already planning to arrange more 'romantic' dates for her pretty stepson.

Lavinia was already planning to arrange more 'romantic' dates for her pretty stepson

Coming soon!: The ART of Madge and Timmy(featuring the artwork of A.W. him/herself)

I have recently come in contact with A.W.(Anonymous Writer), amongst others the writer of the fabulous (but a little scary-lol) 'Madge and Timmy' stories on Fictionmania, and found out that apart from the stories there is also a fair amount of original drawings by said artist. These are just a taste of what's to come as i've understood there is a lot more AW is prepared to share with the fans.
Still busy working on my own new 'evil stepmom' scenario so this is a very welcome diversion and development.

FullSize

 Full Size

Full Size

another Tribute to Madge and Timmy

I've just posted this on fictionmania(and got refused at first for the protagonist supposedly being underage?-writing about unlawfull behaviour is not unlawfull-it's nonsense). It's basically a tribute to Anonymous Writer, together with Cheryl Lynn one of the authors I follow on there. Of course I've incorporated some of my personal preferences and left out what doesn't quite tickle my fancies(like the threat of castration AW seems to prefer) but for the most part I tried to keep within the tradition. You can find the original Madge stuff HERE. 
It's essentially a follow-up to Madge's wonderfull Christmas-party

Ever since my early puberty I had been plagued by dreams and fantasies of a world where depraved older ladies, for their sheer amusement, kept me in bondage dressed  in the most feminine of girl's clothes and high-heeled shoes and then laughed at my pretentions of ever being a boy again. In said scenario I was a toy for their perverted sense of amusement but these fantasies still thrilled me with strange delightfull emotions. To think of myself dressed in the pretty dresses and silky undergarments of an extremely feminine teen girl, undergoing punishments and dainty tortures at the hands of a dominant woman deaf to my protestations, had been completely intoxicating. Of course as an otherwise fairly normal teenage boy I had fought these clearly preposterous thoughts and fancies but they always returned and seemed to almost be part of my nature.
So if it had already thrilled me to just dream and think of such a destiny, how helpless I was to put up resistence when, with the arrival of aunty Madge, these secret dreams were translated into reality. My reluctance and resistance didn't disappear of course but it had always lacked conviction as deep inside I knew very well  that I secretly had always wanted this. Even when she, to my absolute horror, first mentioned that I should have a boyfriend and I was openly defiant of the whole concept, deep inside I knew that in the end I would probably beg her to make me go out with men. Madge knew me much too well, so this is where we have arrived over 2 years later.........

Timmy's Big day

"You're going to just love your new room up here, Tim dear" Madge said said in her all too familiar taunting voice. "Now you have become such a grown-up little lady with a boyfriend an' all, I've decided to get all your things moved up from your old room and put them in your new and much more befitting quarters so you'll be all set-up for your new life in no time!", she added as we entered the large upstairs bathroom. Madge then had me disrobe and put on a slinky silk kimono and fluffy bedroom mules  and sit on a little chair near the bathroom sink. She took a pair of tweezers and quickly plucked my eyebrows into a perfect feminine arch! She then put my head under the sink and began washing my hair. She then applied a chemical hair dye that stung my scalp. "You're hair is so nice and long and already such a pretty shade of blonde that it won't take any work at all to get it into an even prettier, brighter blonde" she said as she continued. She then washed out the dye and after drying my hair with a towel until it was just damp, she had me sit at the sink and quickly began cutting and styling my hair. I had already learned that years back she had learned to fix and style hair professionally and her skills had become quite evident over time so It wasn't long before she had cut my now almost platinum blonde hair into a totally feminine style that could never be made to look anything like a boy's haircut without cutting it all off!
Things then went quickly. Madge had me sit at the bathroom sink once again while she rummaged through some things. She found some hair rollers and went to work on my hair. After she had nearly two dozen big curlers wound tightly to my head she put a hairnet on me and plugged in a hair dryer! She then started giving me a manicure and then fitted me out with a set of glamour length salon nails! "These are permanent unlike the stick on ones you wore before, darling. But I don't think you'll be in a hurry to dress up as a boy very soon anyway" she said in her most insincere amenable tone of voice, smiled sweetly and then started painting them a bright, glossy red! She then gave me a pedicure and after putting a pair of toe spreaders on each foot she then painted my toenails the same red as my fingernails! Whilst I was under the hairdryer Madge proceeded to get my things from downstairs and to move them to the adjoining room. I had thought 'this' was to be my new room but when I asked Madge she told me that this room would be sort of be my 'boudoir', where a lady would retreat when she wanted some private time. The room next door would be my actual bedroom as  I would find out later.  I noticed the ingrained devious smile as she mentioned that she would have a little surprise for me when I'd be all dressed up for my 'big day'. I had no idea what that was about but Madge obviously had planned something. And although I had accepted that my darling aunt was always right and always got her way, there was still a sense of both apprehension and anxiety creeping up on me.
Without any more explaining of what she meant she proceeded to do my make-up which included a pair of impossibly glamorous false eyelashes and an obviously very 'kissable' glossy red lipgloss.
She then took of the hairnet off and started to take out the tightwound big curlers one by one and carefully arranged and lacquered the resulting mass of curls into the undoubtedly extremely feminine style she had chosen for the occasion. A number of pretty white satin ribbons and bows were then carefully braided into it. And although I hadn't been given the chance to look in a mirror yet, the result had to be something quite spectacular.  Madge then helped me up from the stool and guided me into the room where a number of bags from some very exclusive clothing shops were waiting on the bed.
After slipping out of my robe, the first item she put on me was a tiny string to tuck  mylittle nuts and draw back my boythingy. After some adjusting the last clue to my original gender was hence packed neatly out of sight. Before fitting my developing little breasts in a pretty white lacy push-up bra she had once again placed her electrode gadget (she called it 'my electro clitty') on me. I was then laced tightly into a brand-new white waist corset that was even tighter than the ones I had worn before. It was lavishly adorned with lace and pretty satin bows and had six straps to which a pair of the finest fully fashioned tan nylon stockings were attached. For the next stages Madge had decided that I should be blindfolded so I would only see the endresult when I was 'ready'. The blindfold was a sort of a black velvet visor so as not to ruin my hair and make-up.
I was then sat down on the bed while Madge was gathering the rest of my "exquisite vestments for the evening". First was a flimsy item that felt as a extremely ellaborately decorated silk pair of french knickers. An involuntary shiver went through through me as I felt them being drawn up my nylon-encased legs to cover my girly derriere and neatly trimmed pubic area. Even after all this time the feel of these sensuous silky materials on my skin still intoxicated my now so weakwilled almost ditzy mind... Of course Madge didn't miss any opportunity to push my buttons and to force my urges and desires to "grow so wonderfully out of controll" as she called it. If I hadn't taken the little orange happy-pills earlier I may actually still have had reservations about tonights procedures but the pills stopped ones inner conversation and didn't leave any room for argueing. They were actually quite nice. Life was so much easier and pleasant when decisions were made by others. Especially when it was someone like Madge who was by nature always right and knew what was best for me.
Meanwhile my beloved aunty had forced my feet into an undoubtedly gorgeous pair of at least 5 inch stiletto heels (by now I hadn't worn anything under 4 inch heels for months and I doubted if I still could). She then ordered to raise my feet for a moment so she could help me into my petticoats and naturally I obliged. The gown would probably be something voluminous as the petticoats were floorlength and had several deliciously slippery layers. By now I should have guessed I which direction this was going but in reality I was still just meekly following Madge's directions like the perfect obedient princess I was to become....... Whilst all this was going on she kept telling me over and over how beautifull and exquisitely feminine I was going to feel and how all the men (and especially my 'boyfriend') would be totally at my feet. And the weak impressionable debutante, I was being turned into, drank it all in greedily and actually started to feel excited about Madge's plans for me. "Now little lady, stand up straight and hold your hands over your head so I can put your lovely dress on you". Of course I obeyed instantly so when I stood there, almost shivering with sweet anticipation, accompanied by the the delicious sounds of rustling silks and tafetta, a cloud of delicate slippery fabrics was lowered over my head and Madge zipped me up and carefully fitted the rustling layers of the skirts over my petticoats. After doing some final adjustments to my hair and adding some jewelry Madge decided to let me see her handiwork and removed the blindfold. At first I thought my vision was impaired untill I realised I was looking through a veil
I then got the shock of my life as I was made to walk over to the triple, full length dressing mirror and Madge drew back the veil. I now looked every inch like a living Barbie'Doll bride. She had been right, I probably looked like every man's wet dream. The exquisite designer bridal gown gleamed and rustled with every move I made.
It had a sweetheart neckline suggesting the beginnings of a pair of little breasts, then went down to my small corsetted waist and flared out in a very theatrical wide ballgown skirt with a bit of a train. My arms were covered by diaphonous off the shoulder sleeves. It was absolutely delicious. I was  totally breathless, my whole body shook with excitement as I stood in the middle of the room in an almost mesmerised state of absolute delight. I could see the gleaming bright red of my toenails shining through the reinforced toes of the sheer stockings through the open toes of the white patent stiletto heels. My long fingernails matched the gleaming red and my face, my own face was now unrecognizable to me as Tim with my hair now a bright blonde and all done up in ribbons and curls and with the jewelry and flawless makeup. I must have stood there for minutes breathlessly admiring myself in the mirrors whilst Madge stood behind me with a big smile of victory and satisfaction on her face.
After a short while Madge once again lowered the veil over my face and gestured me to follow her. "Well, I have another little surprise for my beautifull princess. You didn't think I had my little lady all dressed up for nothing, did you?
Madge then gently guided me to the adjoining room (my new bedroom?) that had been decorated with huge bouquets of yellow roses and when I looked up through my veil I imediately recognised my admirer mr.Braxton standing there looking every inch the part in a very classy traditional

The exquisite designer bridal gown gleamed
and rustled with every move I made

bridegroom suit (not a vulgar tuxedo but the sort that has a jacquet and vest). Again a delightfull shiver went through me even before Madge once again used her gadget on me. The memory of his ardent avances had been enough to turn me on although Madge's efforts did make my romantic desires even more urgent. I was quite overcome by the tender romantic feelings I harboured for this elderly Cassanova. Madge steared me towards him and put my beautifully manicured little hand in his. The lovely elderly man's hand was almost shaking with excitement at my touch and a look of lust, desire and admiration was writen all over his face. He was almost drooling when he looked at me and he was smiling as if he just won the lottery. It was so sweet.
"When I saw how you two got along at our lovely Christmas-party and how there was love in the air, I decided that you two should be married. Of course it's not strictly legal and Harold will still be living with his wife in town part of the time for reasons of convenience but in every other way you two lovebirds will be husband and wife." Madge paused for a moment...
"Now. Do you Harold Joseph Braxton take Tiffany Benson to be your perfect fantasy wife and promiss to love and cherish her and to guide your beautifull bride into the final stage of womanhood she so craves and deserves?..." " I do", old Mr.Braxton almost stammered in his obviously excited state. "And do you, Tiffany Benson promiss to take your boyfriend Mr.Braxton to now be your husband and promiss to love, cherish and obey him as the perfect little trophy wife you must become?" And as if in a beautifull trance(which wasn't that far from the truth) Timmy whispered "Yes aunty, of course I do..."
"I  now declare you to be man and wife and you Harold must now put the ring on her finger and kiss your beautifull bride. I will then leave you two lovebirds alone to celebrate your love and to fulfill your matrimonial duties." she said in a suggestive tone of voice.  I couldn't wait so as soon as this darling man had lifted my veil to hungrily kiss me, I virtually melted into my 'husband's arms in total surrender. Yes, I really wanted him inside me right there and then. Feeling his warm throbbing flesh inside my body as a final act of loving submission to 'him', my beloved 'lord and master'.
Mmmm, yes. Me, the blushing bride on my back in my beautifull wedding gown, with my stockinged legs around my loving husband as he filled my boypussy with his beautifull throbbing manhood and my pretty little mouth with his thick muscular tongue. Deeper and deeper he slowly thrusts into

I begin to feel the last rests of my
boyhood slowly slip away with each
thrust of his beautiful penis

me, almost splitting me in two as I clutch the silk sheets and beg him to continue. my words excite him more and he begins to thrust even deeper and more urgently into me. By then I am panting and
squealing like a girl, covered in the femininity of the satin, lace and tulle of my gown and petticoats, I begin to feel the last rests of my boyhood slowly slip away with each thrust of his beautiful penis and me slowly become more and more girl than I ever had ever felt. Then my husband thrusts into me one final time and holds me still as he pumps his warm seed deep inside of me, impregnating me - filling me completely.
"Mmmmm", I let out a long moan and shake my head as almost in disbelief as I feel his manly fluids enter me, warming my little girly heart. At that moment I felt so much like a girl that for a split second I almost thought I would be getting pregnant. After some time I started crying a little, like the girl I have become and layed back and basked in the
afterglow like the woman I've now become. Feeling my husband's sperm swimming around inside of me, desperately looking for an egg to impregnate. My husband has now truly taken my virginity,
He made me a woman, mrs.Tiffany Braxton.

I layed back and basked in the afterglow like the woman I've now become