the delights of Stepmotherhood 5 :'ROMANCE'

 

the delights of Stepmotherhood 1

the delights of Stepmotherhood 2

the delights of Stepmotherhood 3

the delights of Stepmotherhood 4

'Romance'

The rest of the way home nothing worth mentioning happened but I was nonetheless relieved to reach the front door where the ladies were already waiting for my return. Obviously they were quite anxious to question me about my little excursion.

It was quite delightful to hear how our young pupil had carried out his task and how he had noticed certain details like how feeling the breeze around his stockinged legs was strangely exciting and how he had almost instinctively reacted to 'the Rangerover ladies' with an almost perfect air of disdain and distance. Priceless actually. It all seemed to have gone perfectly to plan, including Joyce almost bumping into our local bankmanager. Only thing was that when our darling had mentioned Mr. Warren I had noticed a slight tremor in his voice that was accompanied by a thoughtful look on his beautifully made-up face. I didn't go into that immediately but there was clearly something occupying that devious mind of our little lady. Still celebrating the successful expedition there was champagne and while not actually designed as such, the idea of said alcoholic beverage loosening the tongues did enter my mind and I may have been a tad generous with it.... Unexpectedly it wasn't Joyce but Mrs. Arthuro who got loose-lipped when she revealed that she actually knew Mr. Warren quite well as Mrs. Warren nr. 3 who was a fashion model in her younger days had been a close friend of her.  Mr. Warren had not been a very loyal husband and the rumour was that he was well known in the town's stripclubs and brothels under the alias 'Mr. Vincent' because of his remarkable resemblance to sixties movieactor and horrorfilm icon 'Vincent Price'. During Mrs. Arthuro's gossipy revelations about the lecherous gentleman in question I noticed Joyce had once again shown a curious frown on his face and at some point it looked like our little lady was actually blushing.... So when he, after his third glass of bubbles, had nervously and almost guiltily mumbled that he had been strangely attracted to the gentleman, I had been rather pleasantly surprised to see that the result of our darling's hypnotherapy sessions went deeper than I could have wished for.... It was plain to see that with all this extra information, several delicious new scenario's were already forming in my depraved stepmotherly mind. An obviously more commanding gentleman like old Mr. Warren would clearly be a far more challenging and interesting 'boyfriend' for our little lady  than the relatively tame Harvey. Maybe my fantasies were coloured by the Vincent Price comparison but in my head there was an image of Joyce in the role of an ultra femininely dressed damsell being roughly groped by the creepy lovestruck elderly count. I just can't help it, I've always been turned on by the darker sides of romanticism. When I first saw Flash Gordon I actually had an orgasm when the almost disgustingly innocent Dale Arden fell under the hypnotic spell of emperor Ming the merciless and was being forced to become his bride before the plot was ruined by that boring goody Flash dude. A young me even rooted for the lovely Cruella Deville and the wicked witch of the west in Oz(remind me to order some of those flying monkeys one of these days)...
Anyway, after sending a slightly tipsy Joyce to bed, Mrs. Arthuro and I hatched a plan for the next intoxicating stage of the exciting new life I had been forcing upon him. When I later listened at his bedroom-door in passing, I noticed hearing the familiar humming sound of my darling's sextoy accompanied by soft moans, proving that the fascination with his own recently found feminine sexuality was still very much alive. And when everything goes the way Mrs Arthuro and I had envisaged, his relatively pristine boypussy may need to get used to getting stretched sooner than expected, as it were...  
We still had a lot to do though. First Mrs. Arthuro would use the tactic of 'walking her pooch' herself to accidentally meet up and re-aquaint herself with her old friend Mr. Warren, then casually bring up the subject of Joyce as he would undoubtedly have recognized little Coco with his rhinestone collar. Depending on her supposedly lecherous friend's reaction and attitudes she would try to get him to cooperate with our delightfull plans. So when Mrs. Arthuro returned from her mission with an victorious smile on her face and reported her findings it looked like the next step was inventing some vaguely believable reason to get young Joyce to meet up with the gentleman in question. A reason for getting Joyce dressed and made-up a little more extravagant than he was already used to was solved by deciding that us 'ladies' would 'dress for dinner' tonight. Needless to say that no costs or efforts were spared to make our little lady look like every sophisticated older gentleman's ultimate dreamgirl...
During said dinner my ladyfriend dished up a phoney story about her completely accidental meeting with her old friend without disclosing any details about what was said so when she afterwards asked our little lady to deliver a message from her to Mr. Warren, our princess would be none-the-wiser about things to come.

It must have been around nine that night when I got on my way, carrying a big

envelope supposedly containing the lady's message to Mr. Warren. I was as expected meticulously dressed in my most elegant coat wearing my glamorous silk Dolce&Gabbana headscarf, my highest Louboutin pumps and my Gucci clutch.
After a fairly uneventful walk I had arrived at the elderly gentleman's large Victorian townhouse and proceeded to nervously walk up the garden path to the front door. Nervously I ascended the steps, but as I was getting used to stepmothers often scary tasks I just obeyed her instructions and rang the bell. After a short while I heard movements and the door opened revealing a very aristocratic and magnificent looking Mr. Warren, wearing a very elegant vintage smoking with the appropriate real bow tie. For a moment I was dumbstruck by the effect of his magnetic presence just like that time on the street but this time, with him all dressed up, it was much much stronger. I was almost ready to worship this demi-god of a man. " Now tell me what I can do to help you', young lady...", he said in a  very amenable voice. Slightly reassured by the gentleman's amicable tone I told him I was just delivering a message from Mrs. Arthuro.

  
Obviously I wasn't in any doubt that delivering the message had in the end only been an excuse the manipulative ladies made up to get me there and I later found out the message had only read: "Here she/he is. She is totally hot for you. Be nice to her but don't damage the goods on your first romantic date. We insist that our pretty debutante must stay a virgin just a little bit longer".
After he had casually looked at the message, he slipped it back into the envelope which he slid into his pocket before turning his attention back to me, thanking me for delivering it without reveiling it's content. He then took a step towards me and held my shoulders at arms' length while he continued to look me over. "Now let me have another good look at you, sweetheart."
"If Mrs. Arthuro and your dear stepmother hadn't told me I would never have guessed or believed you were ever a boy. And she didn't exaggerate when she described you either. You really do look like a young, extremely glamorous fifties moviestar and I don't think there is a heterosexually motivated male in town that wouldn't dream of  doing very naughty things with a gorgeous little lady like you. princess, " he said, his eyes still devouring me, "Are you sure you don't you have  some young stud boyfriend to go to on a saturday night like this? Not really, Sir." I said. "Stepmother thinks I should only date older gentlemen." A mischievous smile appeared on his handsome manly face....
"So you really came here to seduce me tonight, didn't you, sweetheart? The quite formidable Mrs. Arthuro already informed me about your preferences and romantic orientation. Now tell me that this is what you really want, darling!" he said in a voice that was at the same time suggestive and commanding. "Tell me that you desperately want to become my little girlfriend!
"Yes Sir, I do!" I almost whimpered. "Your stepmother told me that you have been having naughty fantasies about meeting a forcefull masculine gentleman like myself for quite some time now. Is that true honey?" Almost devoutly looking up at the gorgeous man towering above me, I once again nervously mumbled a timid "Yes Sir." Even as I had been totally useless at resisting sweet Harvey's kisses, my romantic feelings had never been as urgent as they seemed to be now. 
Of course he had read me perfectly because in my mind, even as I was still a bit apprehensive about things to come, I have to admit that I had been compulsively fantasizing about meeting him all the time while I was elegantly sashaying toward his house, as well as last night after bedtime... I should also have been suspicious of the almost salacious way my devisive stepmother had made me dress for tonight's events. Everything was just a little bit 'more' tonight. The heels just a bit higher, my undies a tiny bit frillier, the stockings even silkier than normal. And then there was the near-perfect hairdo, the fabulous eyelashes and finally the delicious pure silk satin designer cocktail gown.  Clearly my darling stepmother had quite intentionally dressed me up as the ultimate young seductress on the prowl. Looking at the expression on the older gentleman's face it was working...."Now, young lady, don't you think it's about time you'd give your beau a kiss? Yes sir," I nervously uttered as I took a step towards him and proceeded to stand on tippytoes to give my elderly 'Don Juan' a sweet little kiss on the mouth. I even closed my eyes doing so... "No, no, no ! Not like that, princess. That's very sweet but that is the way you'd kiss your mother, not your 'boyfriend'. I'll show you a real 'boyfriend-kiss', would you like that, darling?" he said while his large hands took hold of my waist and drew me closer, my smallish hands with the salon-nails now resting on his chest.... I became very aware that I had never before stood so close to a male that was as big as my mysterious 'beau'. Even on my very high heels, I had to stand on tippytoes and look up to face him. He just stood there for a few very long seconds, making me feel very small and delicate. And then it happened! The kiss blew my mind completely and for a moment I feared I was going to faint. It felt as if it all had happened in slow motion. This handsome manly face had looked down on his 'conquest' and the as if in a dream he came in for the kiss, me yielding and offering no resistance to his thick muscular tongue as it brutally forced his way into my very responsive mouth.
I could feel his surprisingly strong and manly 76 year old body press against my smallish girlyfied physique. I felt the trousers of his very stylish oldfashioned smoking brush against my delicate nylons whilst my girl penis, as stepmother preferred to call my diminuative appendage, seemed to no avail, desperate to escape it's straining silken prison.. I really felt I was 'his' girl now. I loved the idea that he could turn me on like this, just by acting like the mature alpha male he appeared to be but it was still a bit scary too. He held me like that, still kissing me deep and passionately with me almost devotedly clinging to him, for what seemed an eternity. When we finally came up for air my Romeo wasted no time and virtually dragged me into the house where he gallantly proceed to take my coat and headscarf only to be confronted by me looking even more glamorous in my exquisite peach satin off-the-shoulder cocktail gown. That was clearly his 'cue' to continue our romantic explorations with even more urgency and ardor. When he again grabbed my waist and kissed me it was with so much lust and force that he physically overpowered me and almost violently pushed me against a doorpost. I totally loved it. The whole idea of awakening this much desire and passion in an experienced older man like him was completely intoxicating. To demonstrate my devotion my arm was around his neck to signal him to continue his urgent tongue-invasion. His hands were

only to be confronted by me looking even more glamorous in my exquisite
peach satin off-the-shoulder cocktail gown. That was clearly his 'cue' to
continue our romantic explorations with even more urgency and ardor.

everywhere too and when his leg forced it self between mine I noticed my suitor had a fairly large protrusion in his trousers. Wanting to enhance his passions more than ever now I decided to be bold and put my hand on it and started to lovingly stroke his rigid member through the fabric of his trousers, driving this darling man almost mad with desire and lust.... " Oh my god darling... What are you doing to me?" he muttered in between kisses and whispered declarations of love and lust. "I want you so bad darling" I whispered in his ear, knowing that the conditions stepmother had probably set my lover still ruled out actual penetration on our first romantic encounter.... Meanwhile my 'boyfriend' was, his arm possessively around my waist, guiding me to a large settee in the adjoining livingroom where I elegantly sat down, crossing my knees and adjusting the skirt of my gorgeous dress over the luscious frothy petticoats while 'my boyfriend' was busy with glasses and champagne to celebrate our 'union'. After he finally joined me on the couch with our drinks it didn't take long before his hand had once again possessively encircled my nipped-in silken waist pulling me closer whilst the other hand had now settled on my smooth nylon-encased knee. A surprisingly intimate new experience, to feel his strong large hand lovingly caress me like that really turned me on. His hand that after some delicious fumbling around with the hem of the skirts moved a bit further up my thigh, emphasizing how this ultra-feminine and delicate way of dressing was making me feel so sumptuously vulnerable and accessible in that area. For some reason it's an extremely erotic feeling, especially when it's accompanied by being in the strong manly arms of the man you've got the hots for. Once again my mouth was invaded by his wonderfull thick muscular tongue so deep and hungrily that I felt giddy when he allowed me to come up for air. And all the time my excited little peeny was slowly oozing pre-cum in its silken prison, almost like I was having a prolonged very slow female orgasm....
While we were making out like mad his hand had reached my stocking tops and was slowly moving towards an even more sensitive region and in turn I was again lovingly manipulating his wonderful still hidden rockhard penis through the fabric of his loose-fitting trousers. Only moments later I had managed to timidly open my boyfriends elegant trousers to release his gorgeous big veiny member. When I touched it  my lover shuddered but immediately rewarded my gesture by lovingly rubbing the part of my gorgeous silky knickers that contained my little boyparts and kissing me again. Underneath the opulent ruffled silk knickers said boy parts were for aesthetic reasons still neatly tucked between my legs with a tiny specially made string. Having it gently manipulated through the fabric of the knickers was heaven. We must have been making out whilst gently exploring eachother's genitalia like that for quite some time but at some point, in between increasingly hungry kisses, this darling increasingly excited man had managed to gently steer his beautiful large throbbing manhood under my skirts and between my smooth nylon encased legs up into my pretty knickers. Then, as he with my loving assistance had started gently rubbing his delicious big mancock against my small girlpenis , completely driving me crazy, he proceeded to ardently and in the end almost aggressively dry-hump me untill he collapsed on top of me, awarding me by filling my pretty knickers with large globs of  his warm manly fluids. My small 'flooded' girl penis was completely falling in love with his large mancock....

 

 

I had the almost perfect illustration ready for the finale of this one but I remembered Blogger's rules on full frontal cum-shots just in time..... 

Another Joyce piccie....

I can't help myself,  I just have to. I'm just fooling around with pictures to pass the time and sometimes I fall in love with the result. Still almost think of my stuff as short movie scripts actually. Of course totally unthinkable at the time but I imagine them as some darker episodes of television series like 'Rod Serling's Night Gallery', 'Outer limits' or 'Amazing Stories'. To compensate for this being virtually impossible I do the collages and sometimes even small animations. The story will probably continue but I'm lazy and I have never been a very prolific writer to begin with. This will have to do for now....

Obviously Joyce was never going to be 'just a girl', I
wanted him to be the ultimate 'little lady'. Both
a deliciously helpless fragile debutante and a
teenage vamp who'd be the ultimate wet dream of
every boy and man who'd lay his eyes on 'her'. An
archetype of imagined erotic girlhood that was never
made to exist in the real world.... Print Size

'Joyce'

I'm not quite sure if and how this one will fit into a possible continuation of the story but when I found this vintage picture, I just couldn't resist putting young Joyce in it. Think it must be another delightful little outing with stepmother and her ladyfriends.Hope you like it....

 

the delights of Stepmotherhood 4 :Femme fatale

 

(Get part 1 first)

It was when Harvey and 'his conquest' were about to leave us ladies to ourselves, as I had given the gentleman permission to take Joyce for a ride in his new automobile before returning him home in time for dinner, that I saw it. 'It', was me realising how perfect our little lady had become over this relative short period. Without  me fully realising it our darling seemed to have picked up on several delightful affectations and mannerisms on her own. Only a week ago I had already seen him manipulatively pretending to be unsteady in his 5 inch heels and timidly accepting the supporting arm of his 'date'. He successfully pulled off the same charade this time, feigning utter girlish fragility and helplessnes whilst bashfully looking up at his manly suitor, making the enamoured elderly Casanova protectively slip his arm around 'his lady' to support the delicate little thing. All this was accompanied by coquettish little gestures, fluttering lashes and adjusting strains of hair peeping out from under the fabulous 'Dolce&Gabbana' silk headscarf our darling had decided to wear to protect his exquisite new hairdo during the ride and simply to show off. Was Joyce 'playing' him? It was just too good to be accidental, it looked very much like our darling perfectly understood what he/she was doing to the 'bewitched' older gentleman. In fact Joyce seemed at that point to have become an active and seemingly even quite willing participant in my little schemes. Developments that were still a bit unexpected but I think I am really starting to like our little lady. With some help he/she may actually have the makings of a deliciously manipulative little bitch, warming a wicked stepmother's heart.....
I may have underestimated the curiously twisted mind of a young transvestite and  I could very well have inadvertently found myself a 'partner in crime' where I had expected a 'victim'. Sometimes I tend to forget that only a short time ago these girlyboys had actually been oversexed adolescents who were very conscious of the strong erotic feelings girls and women could awaken in boys and men. It was partly that which gives the young transvestite an advantage over real girls his age who still have discover their powers, often by trial and error. Most of these initially heterosexually motivated boys had got hooked partly through fancying their own 'pretend-girl in the mirror' and said pretend-girl had been practicing seductive poses and affectations on him/herself since the very beginning. They knew very well how a lady crossing her nylon encased legs with their exquisite footwear could drive a boy/man crazy, even when it's now their own impossibly high-heeled and stockinged legs doing the job of mercilessly teasing their manly admirers. A pretend-girl has a far better starting point when it comes to 'reading' a suitor.
So when I watched our lovely couple leaving the establishment with Joyce dependently clinging to her beau's arm and the ladies praising me for my delightful little demonstration, I was already thinking of the delicious possibilities the new situation could offer.

Later, when a slightly disheveled Harvey delivered an almost impish looking Joyce home in time for dinner, I once again noticed how my adorable stepson had caused a member of the 'opposite' gender to have a little 'accident' as the gentleman hadn't been able to hide a clearly visible wet patch in his pants. 
Of course my original plan to marry my little lady off to a depraved gentleman like him was put on hold now our 'innocent' young miss seemed to have demoted him to the 'very lucky victim' role, whilst at least partly becoming the perpetrator him/herself. I still want to see Joyce as a beautiful bride but the game seems to be going in a slightly different direction now.
I'm utterly delighted about Joyce's progress, soon I will be fine-tuning her obvious natural talent for picking up delicious feminine foibles like amused contempt, merciless taunting, sublimated frailty and other 'tricks of the trade'. The trade of being an impossibly vain, manipulative and spoiled upper class brat, that is. It's just all going to be so beautifully twisted and wrong.
Obviously there would still be a lot to learn for a young femme fatale in the making but the basics seemed to all be there.

I was still slightly apprehensive about drawing this much attention
to myself on the street where people had actually known me as Josh.
And drawing attention was probably inevitable as I was sure that stepmother
had already carefully selected an extremely glamorous outfit for me to wear.

The day after stepmother had taken me to lunch with her odd ladyfriends, one of these ladies appeared at the house to help me take my deportment skills to the next level. This meant me learning to walk as elegantly and ladylike as possible in my highest heels and tightest skirt whilst at the same time trying to keep that feminine wiggle in my tush. It had to be perfect, the way I held and moved my hands and arms, the way I held my purse, my general posture, everything.... Mrs. Arthuro, who had actually trained runway models in the past, was very strict and the ladies had me practice until I did it exactly the way they wanted. By then I was exhausted and my feet were hurting but the final test was still to come. Mrs. Arthuro decided that it would be a wonderful idea to make me walk her little pooch up and down the lane where we lived looking like a fifties moviestar and stepmother agreed it was a perfect finale to the day. It was a nice, quiet and affluent neighbourhood so there wasn't much real danger but wealthy people were just as nosey as others so I was still slightly apprehensive about drawing this much attention to myself on the street where people had actually known me as Josh. And drawing attention was probably inevitable as I was sure that stepmother had already carefully selected an extremely glamorous outfit for me to wear.

After dinner, in the early evening, my little adventure was to take place as at such an hour it would be relatively quiet and a young lady walking her darling little dog wouldn't look too out of place. Luckily stepmother had kept my get-up quite sedate. The skirt suit with the fox fur collar itself looked almost like something a 'lady' could be wearing to church. That is until one notices that the skirt was just a bit too figure-hugging and the jacket a bit too well tailored. I only later saw the label indcating that it was actually vintage Versace. Underneath I was wearing a darling satin a-cup push-up bra, that made the small fleshy mounds on my chest look like actual little titties, accompanied by a tight 'Kiss me deadly' waist cincher with 6 suspenders holding a gorgeous pair of Cervin fully fashioned nylon stockings. The black patent 5 inch+ pumps had a snakeskin pattern and were definitely not the churchgoing type. As usual I was perfectly made up and I had made an effort with my new hairdo. The ladies had still argued wether I should wear the Dolce&Gabbana headscarf or not but in the end the answer was yes because it was soooo deliciously 'Hollywood chique'....
So at 7.30 that evening the ladies virtually shoved me out the door with little Coco on a pink leather leash attached to a rhinestone collar. To be completely honest my memories of the excursion weren't very detailed as I had slipped in something like a trance that made the adventure feel almost like I was dreaming. Not much dramatic happened as I did my best to promenade down the lane as ladylike as I could whilst trying to look completely aloof and slightly indifferent to the world outside my direct view. Al seemed to go down rather uneventful and even the posh ladies from nr. 34, who were the kind of people who believed 'class' meant wearing wellingtons, plaid skirts and driving a rangerover just gave me a disapproving but uninterested look when their Alsatian showed too much interest in little Coco. Nothing happened until I came to the house of mr. Warren the bank manager who was just leaving the house to walk his beloved dachshund. Mr Warren was known to us youngsters as a stern and rather formal gentleman who wasn't very people-friendly. Which was probably an asset when your job involves refusing people loans. When we almost bumped into each other and our doggies got acquainted the usually grumpy gentleman greeted me with a polite "Ma'am" definitely looking just that tiny bit more benign than usual when we both resumed our walk. It had only been a few seconds but for some reason I had never before realised what an attractive man this stern bank manager actually was and just like when I was first introduced to Harvey I actually felt a shiver going through me. It wasn't like the two gentlemen resembled each other in any way, Harvey being a chubby teddybear whilst Mr. Warren was a very tall almost gangly man, who in his somber black suits could very well have played the role of the creepy undertaker in a cheap horror movie. I just couldn't help it but I wanted him to do all kinds of terribly naughty things with me.... I also realised that with my recently discovered feminine superpowers I could probably have him at a mere snap of my beautifully manicured fingers....
  
 

the delights of Stepmotherhood 3 : a ladies lunch.

(Get part 1 first)

Most of the time stepmother's demeanor appeared to be almost sugary sweet and even when there was always a tone of belittlement in her voice, in general she acted fairly amenable towards me. However, whenever I had the unthinkable audacity to protest or complain, she could also become rather frenzied and menacing. "You're called Joyce now, little lady!" she would exclaim in a hissing, almost hysterical voice. I would of course cringe at her vehement insistence and once more realise that I was completely at my stepmother's mercy. In the end I would timidly mumble a resignating "yes ma'am, of course I am". Almost the same thing happened when she first suggested that a young lady like me should date members of the opposite sex. And learn to like it! Obviously i should have known by then she wouldn't let that one rest....

Of course Josh/Joyce had needed some additional assistance to help convince him to play his role in my wonderful script and that's where my friend, who is a renowned professional hypnotherapist comes in. The point is that unlike most of the fantasist who pretend to hypnotise someone with silly soundfiles, I've actually made a bit of a study of this 'brainwashing' stuff. I know you can't hypnotize people to do things they don't really want to but you can however make them overcome hesitancy and shame over things one secretly likes or just wouldn't mind experiencing, so in the end it's all about reasoning and convincing the subject that these things must be. The point is that most people don't really mind being told what to do or even think as it actually takes away responsibility for their actions. Think of how liberating it can feel not having to make decisions or ever having to worry about consequences. Think how attractive the cop out 'I was just doing what i was told' really is. And having been 'hypnotized' into certain behaviours is a perfectly acceptable alibi for our subconscious mind to welcome such a manner of reasoning.... What makes it all work isn't the trance in itself for that is just the tool to narrow ones consciousness to the point where our inner conversation stops and one is more susceptible. Certain anti-psychotic drugs would do exactly the same. In the end it's making the subject freely choose to put you in command. You have to convince them of the attractiveness of such a choice.

Taking this all in, this is about what one of the last 'sessions' we had with young Joyce before I first introduced him to his 'boyfriend', sounded like....
"....O yes, how exquisitely exciting it'll be to finally see you completely deny your initial reluctance, to see you betray your gender and original sexual orientation and actually revel in your own belittlement and wanton submission to your 'boyfriend'.
And o, how I wish I could see you both squirm and swoon in the arms of your depraved masculine admirer....
I know it is just what you've always secretly dreamed of, sweety. Just what you've subconsciously always wanted. An ultra-feminine young lady, like you 'insist' on becoming, just naturally needs the regular romantic attention of some lascivious older gentleman to feel complete."

Obviously I can only give you an impression as the whole session actually took almost 6 hours of our subject repeating instructions and answering questions. It concluded with this...:

"....And I know that after today you will no longer be able resist this aristocratic looking much older man's hands intimately touching you and holding you close. You will still try to deny it but it's completely obvious now.
His hands may brazenly wander all over your silk encased now so girlish body. He may and you of course hope with all your heart that he will. You know he is going to be a very very close and intimate friend to you now and it feels all so completely right and delightful. The feeling of being desirable and feminine that you get from being so very close to him is completely intoxicating.
Being held and touched so very intimately by such a distinguished much much older man is what you will desperately crave now.
His wrinkly veiny old hands possessively moving all over you and shamelessly fondling your cute little tush and kissing you. It all feels so right. He is so commanding and completely in control whilst you just comply and helplessly yield as he takes charge of his 'little lady'.
Because you know this is really what you have secretly always wanted as your body already agrees and shivers with delight at the mere thought of his ravenous touches and other intimacies.
And you know that from now on you are going to be thinking and reacting like this all the time. You are never going to want to stop feeling like this because it's who you are now.
You enjoy feeling romantic.
It's exciting and appropriate for you to feel this way.
You already have become such a very romantic 'girl' now and you are becoming more and more romantic every day and with every time you listen to me.
You enjoy listening to me because I help you to become more and more feminine.
And as you develop more and more romantic thoughts and feelings you will find yourself wanting to listen more and more as it feels so right for you to become ever more feminine.
 You've already become such a precious, hopelessly romantic 'little lady', always dreaming about being desperately in love with lovely much much older men.
Always dreaming about being as pretty as possible for these much older men and thinking about how good it feels to be in the arms of such a darling elderly gentleman.
How wonderfully girly it feels to be held in his strong manly arms.
And as you think of these things you feel all warm and tingly inside.
Feeling so desirable and cherished whenever you are with your elderly 'boyfriend'. Because you adore this slightly authoritative elderly gentleman.
You really really like much older men now. Elderly men are so excitingly masculine to an ultra-feminine boyprincess like you and you compulsively want to make them lust after you and to get them to passionately make out with you.
In fact whenever you meet such an elderly man or fantasise about these much older men you will almost instantly become horny and aroused.
Always acutely wanting him to look at you and speak to you. Wanting him to notice you and to notice how horny you are for 'him'. You will actually love these gentlemen for belittling you and making you feel so completely helpless, delicate and fragile. You would do almost anything for a man like that because your  intense feminine feelings of romance and sexuality are all rolled into one unstoppable wave that makes you want to belong to him completely."

Evidently our little lady wouldn't really remember much of what was actually said during these sessions as the drugs had made her conscious mind take a 'backseat' but that doesn't make the proces any less effective. When the time comes his Joyce persona will know....

The week after the exciting but also very disturbing 'date' with Harvey, the older gentleman my stepmother had chosen to act as my boyfriend, she had me accompany her to have lunch in town with her small circle of strange lady friends. Of course i was dressed to the nines in a delightful little skirt suit that had a very narrow pencil skirt and a delicious tailored jacket in powderblue satin over a creme coloured silk camisole. And clearly fully fashioned nylons and black patent pumps with a 5 inch heel.  There was also a matching Gucci handbag and Rhonda had done a fabulous job on my own now peroxide blonde hair that with the help of a few

fully fashioned nylons and black patent
pumps with a 5 inch heel

switches had been done up in a fabulous high ponytail with bangs at the front. Stepmommy was clearly determined to show of her 'wonderful creation' to her friends. Evidently i was a big succes but i was a little surprised the ladies seemed to know all about stepmothers 'delightful' schemes and plans which they seemed to find extremely amusing, especially when mommy triumphantly informed the ladies that i now had a 'boyfriend', which had been cause for giggles and felicitations. Next bombshell was stepmother telling her friends that they would be able to see for themselves as the gentleman in question would actually be joining us later.... No sooner had she divulged this when an aristocratic looking older gentleman in an expensive suit entered the establishment and started moving towards our table.

After I had nervously greeted the gentleman I had for some inexplicable reason been so disturbingly intimate with the week before, the elderly casanova had almost immediately drawn me close and he had intimately kissed me just like I was his 'girlfriend' for real, and still being a bit dazed and overcome by the whole situation I once again just couldn't resist kissing him back.  The ladies, enjoying their mainly fluid lunch whilst keenly watching the happenings and seeing the man's brazen amorous advaces and my reactions to them, whispered an approving, "Ooooolala!".  Now feeling completely overcome in his manly arms, I noticed myself almost instinctively surrendering to 'him' by slithering my slender body up against him, whilst he in return let his hands wander from my waist to gently fondle my silk encased girly bum.  I could already feel his growing erection pressing against me through the flimsy materials of my dress and I just couldn't help feeling proud that I made him want me so much that his manhood was reacting this way. Kissing me again I felt his delicious thick muscular tongue entering my mouth with determination.  The kiss became more and more passionate with me actively cooperating in the intimate mouth contact as the ladies started making comments: "Whoo-ee!"  "Look at them, they are actually making out !"  "Isn't it delightful?"  "Show us how much you are in love with him, princess!"
I did exactly that of course and hadn't my darling stepmother and her friends been such respected clients of the up-market establishment, we would probably have been asked to leave.
By now I was obviously  so deeply immerged into my role that I actually loved every minute of it and moaned softly under my "boyfriend's" kisses and was actually starting to believe I was really deeply in love with this depraved elderly gentleman. The 'ladies' seemed to have the time of their lives....

An ultra-feminine young lady, like you 'insist' on becoming,
just naturally needs the regular romantic attention of some
lascivious older gentleman to feel complete.

The stern opulence of Vintage Brides

As I have mentioned before I've got a serious fetish for eighties and early nineties wedding gowns(and they really are 'gowns' instead of just dresses). Despite their ultra feminine styles, luxurious materials and delicious frilly details they always have something severe and formal. They are for 'ladies' instead of fluffy girlies. Found a few absolute dream-examples online that you just wouldn't be able to resist. You'd probably marry just about anyone if you could wear one of these exquisite confections(Larger format versions available on request).... 

I've got a few more and i'm shure that one of these days one of the lead characters in my little stories will appear in one of them (in fact young Joyce already did).

....My personal favorite.

 

their ultra feminine styles, luxurious materials and delicious frilly details....

the delights of Stepmotherhood 2

(Get part 1 first)
I already mentioned that on Joyce's second practice date I would make him sit on his boyfriend's lap. This turned out to be such a succes that when the date was over the boy in question ended up trying to hide a clearly visible wet spot in his trousers.... At least my pretty stepson's Joyce persona seemed to respond surprisingly well to the concept of being desired and being desirable to boys and most likely men in general....

Meanwhile Joyce's girlygirl lessons went on just as before because I wasn't about to let discipline slip after a few little successes. For this week's compulsory reading I had selected a quite saucy piece of text I had found on the web. It was about a glamorous 'girlyboy' describing in detail how he was pleasuring himself with a dildo whilst fantasizing about being with his masculine boyfriend. Vocalising that piece of adult writing (and I made it a point he did it in his sweetest girly voice) made him stammer whilst blushing profusely as he spoke the words but it prepared the way for the little surprise gift I had for our little lady. When he opened the parcel there was a very realistic looking dildo vibrator which caused even more blushing and embarrassment to our shy debutante. When bedtime came and I got up there to make sure he wore his prettiest satin babydoll nighty, I instructed him in my most amenable voice how to insert and use it 'just like the girl in the story' because whether he liked it or not, in the end a genitally handicapped girl like him would have to learn to accommodate 'her man' sooner or later. Anyway, once I tucked my darling in to play with his delightful new toy in private, I left him with the friendly but urgent suggestion that he should imagine being deeply in love with some imaginary man who would take his virginity and make him his bride. "Because that's what all pretty young ladies dream of , becoming a beautiful bride", I giggled.

When bedtime came I got up there to make
sure he wore his prettiest babydoll nighty

Although these last words were just meant to tease for now but they did put some delicious new ideas for the future in the back of my mischievous mind that was already picturing young Joyce completely dressed up as a bride....

Next on my list, as Joyce's practice dates had been so successful, would have to be finding the right gentleman to be my darling's first real boyfriend. Said gentleman would obviously have to act under strict instructions and rules. After all, we don't want our debutante to lose his virginity on the first date. We want our princess to be a beautiful delicate over-romantic ingenue, not some floozy. After a long discussion with my fiendish friend Henry who had been fully briefed on my delightful plans right from the start, he suggested his 'younger' brother Harvey. At the time I didn't really know Harvey was only a year younger than Henry and not quite what I originally had in mind. Discounting his age Harvey was, like his brother, supposedly a bit of an elderly Don Juan who'd jump at the opportunity to be part of such almost fiendish mischief. Finally I came to the conclusion that Harvey was probably the ideal candidate and his slightly advanced age made the whole scenario even more exciting and so deliciously wrong that it was almost perfect.

..my mischievous mind was already
 picturing young Joyce completely
dressed up as a bride....

Obviously Joyce will still be quite scared and apprehensive at meeting and having to flirt with an older gentleman first but that's not really my problem. In fact it still turns me on to see him hopelessly struggle trying to resist my delightful plans while the look of fearful resignation in his eyes shows me that in the end his Joyce persona and 'her' now so wanton receptive disposition will make him timidly give in to and ultimately even welcome Harvey's eager intimate avances. Yes, soon my little lady will be making out very very enthusiastically with this, to most girls his age, rather repulsive elderly man. Harvey really wasn't a good looking man, he was in his late sixties with grey hair and he was seriously overweight but if everything goes to my plan it will at least appear as if an almost nauseatingly devoted Joyce has fallen deeply in love with a gentleman who looks like he could be his grandfather.
O, how I'm looking forward to see my darling helpless Joyce both squirm and swoon in the arms of her eager elderly admirer.... Oh yes, how exquisitely exciting it will be to see my confused feminised stepson completely deny his initial reluctance, to see sweet Joyce betray his gender and original sexual orientation and to see him revel in his own belittlement and wanton submission to his/her adored 'boyfriend'. I find it so much more rewarding to force ones pupil's feeble little mind to actively participate in my schemes than to just force him.
So that weekend, after I had gotten my darling all dressed up for 'Datenight' in a very glamorous see-through blouse in black organza and a silk taffeta skirt with petticoats, I informed him that this time it would be a slightly more grown-up affair. She'd be having drinks with me, Henry and her date for the evening. Of course he'd be expected to be on his best ladylike behaviour and to relentlessly flirt with his date and later in the evening he'd probably have to prove how good he'd gotten at his slowdancing.... And as a final surprise at the end of the evening I would allow his date to take him for a romantic drive in his car to our local 'lovers lane' to engage in the acts one gets engaged in at such a spot.
As expected Joyce looked completely startled when he saw who was to be his date for the evening as even when I had mentioned 'someone older', he had obviously not counted on his date turning out to be a gentleman in his sixties. For a moment I feared he'd start crying but by now he knew that rebelling was probably futile so in the end he once again surrendered and decided to cooperate with my little scenario. So much so that when he was formally introduced to Harvey he coquettishly pretended to be unsteady in his 5 inch heels and needed the gentleman's support. I was obviously delighted to see him developing such deliciously manipulative little traits. So after her date had gallantly offered him his arm and guided him to his seat the evening started with Champagne and smalltalk on the couch where Joyce was again absolutely perfect, sexily crossing her shiny stockinged legs, timidly fluttering his false eyelashes at him and discreetly slithering towards him on the sofa to sit as close to him as possibly with as a result that his date had taken this as his cue to slip his hand possessively around his slender waist. Harvey didn't seem to waste much time and Joyce seemed to meekly go along. It was absolutely delightful to watch so when Henry put on the Barry White cd and we got up for a smoochie dance, our two lovebirds already had a slightly glassy look in their eyes. Even before the song was halfway Harvey was kissing my little lady's neck and whispering sweet nothings in his ear and when Barry and his orchestra had finished he had managed to lock lips with my beautiful stepson and was hungrily invading his sweet inviting mouth with his thick muscular tongue. A few more arousing Barry songs later when the four of us were back on the couch I announced that it was time for Harvey to take his beautiful girlfriend for a drive....
After his 'date' had driven him home later that night I stealthily watched as our lovebirds continued kissing for several minutes on the porch, with Joyce seeming to more than just enjoy the attention that the older man was giving him. I clearly noticed how he actively encouraged the older man's hands to roam all over his body, while he in turn was writhing his slender silk encased body against the man's large frame and enthusiastically returned his elderly suitor's passionate kisses. How delicious it was to watch him actually shiver with delight as the conceited older gentleman's hands went under his exquisite taffeta skirt to caress his smooth stockinged thighs getting dangerously close to his pretty satin and lace panties. Of course the contents of those panties will be neatly tucked away between our little lady's legs so as not to disturb the so carefully created illusion and pretence.
Harvey later told me that at certain point after they had been making out in the car for a while Joyce had let his small beautifully manicured hand with the shiny salon nails 'accidentally' fall into 'her' date's crotch after which he had actually gingerly fondled the obvious protrusion in the gentleman's trousers....


Mrs. Titania Rawlinson-Smythe

After his 'date' had driven him home later that night,
I stealthily watched as our lovebirds continued kissing
for several minutes on the porch, with Joyce seeming
to more than just enjoy the attention that the older
man was giving him.

the delights of Stepmotherhood

Due to a deep-seated and enduring character flaw I had for a long time secretly been fantasizing about feminizing and dominating weak, susceptible boys. So, when after the passing of my late husband, I had noticed that my up to that point almost tediously boring 15 year old stepson Josh had developed an unnatural interest in my lingerie drawer and assorted frillies, I saw my chance to have some fun and indulge in my dark hidden fantasies. Initially I didn't really encourage his dressing up but I had set the trap by deviously providing my 'victim' with ample opportunity to engage in his newfound little hobby and acces to a wide variety of women's clothes complete with plenty of exciting lingerie, make-up and a even a wig! All supposedly accidentally(lol). Like i stored some boxes of carefully selected ladies fineries in his closet that were supposedly meant for the local thrift store. Later, after I had confronted him with his urges and his guilty secret was out, I had made clear that I insisted he would stay in pretty dresses and frillies permanently from that moment onward. As expected he protested but it wasn't very convincing as I had caught him fully dressed striking sexy poses in front of a full length mirror so I told him in my sweetest voice that it was obviously what he himself had wanted. I was only making 'his dreams' come true. End of the discussion.... There were a few tears in his eyes but that made no difference to me. If anything, it was kinda sweet and only made him look even more feminine.  I was really looking forward to controlling him and as time passed I noticed I seemed to become more and more excited by seeing his submission and compliant resignation to the new life I was seducing/forcing him into. And as he was now becoming more and more obedient  nobody would ever have to know of my intoxicating immoral scenario. Aside from my hairstylist friend Rhonda and my friend Henry, who would visit occasionally, no one knew what I was up to. And by the time I would be ready with our little ingenue, nobody would for a moment question her gender and our little lady would herself declare to anyone who wanted to know that it had been all her own wish and that being a pretty young lady had always been her ultimate dream. It's all so intoxicatingly delightful and right......and deliciously immoral.
Of course getting him to dress as the glamorous ultra feminine young miss I was making him into was only part of my plans. His behaviour, mannerisms and preferences would naturally have to match the looks perfectly which means vigorous training and conditioning. My 'princess to be' spent hours mincing around the house in the highest of heels and was made to learn how to sit down elegantly and suggestively cross her legs, how to carry a handbag and how to wiggle her/his sexy girlish tush. Sometimes, when young 'Joyce' wasn't performing her/his tasks to my satisfaction she/he had to be spanked but that didn't happen often as our little lady was in general, surprisingly cooperative by then. Undoubtedly this was at least partly due to the nature of the clothes our darling was allowed to wear. Think of it.... How hard it would be to convincingly rebel or make a scene when one is delicately dressed in an impossibly narrow pencil skirt, a tight girdle and mincing around in 13 cm stiletto's? There is no running away when you can only take very small steps. And having ones delicate physique permanently sensually stimulated by the silks and satins of the clothes and the delicate nylons to the point of near orgasm, doesn't get a young crossdresser in a rebellious mood either. Of course along with the punishments there had to be rewards. Whenever I noticed him voluntary adopting a new feminine trait or affectation like coquettishly adjusting a strand of hair or timidly fluttering his eyelashes,  I just had to reward him with a present in the form of some type of ultra feminine finery. Young 'Joyce' just couldn't resist and never had a chance against the delights that were on offer. The boy has basically been too stunned by my ruthless regime from the moment i took charge to put up any kind of a fight. You should have seen the look on his face when I showed him his newly decorated ultra feminine bedroom... It was priceless. All his boy stuff had been thrown out and the room was now all done up in pastelshades and elegant draperies, it had a vanity and a very feminine bed with satin covers. Now he'd be emerged in femininity almost completely and there was nothing left to remind him of 'Josh'. And as his father has left me quite wealthy, no costs were spared when it came to my little lady's delightful future. Around the same time I introduced a few more rules on his dressing regime. All his clothing and underwear was to be exclusively made from slinky sensuous materials like satin, taffetta and shiny nylon and stockings and stiletto's were now compulsory. Soon his calf muscles will have adapted and in the end our 'Joyce' will probably only be able to walk in shoes that have at least a 5inch heel. The slinky materials now almost permanently caressing his skin in combination with the sensuous nylons and almost debilitating footwear would nearly ensure keeping our debutante in an enduring state of sensual erotic turmoil.

Soon Joyce will probably only be able to walk
in shoes that have at least a 5 inch heel

Obviously Joyce wasn't going to become 'just a girl', I wanted him to be the ultimate 'little lady'. Both a deliciously helpless fragile debutante and a teenage vamp who'd be the ultimate wet dream of every boy and man who'd lay his eyes on 'her'. Almost an archetype of imagined erotic girlhood that wasn't made to exist in the real world....

And then there were the girlygirl lessons in which he was expected to learn to think as a girl by reading specially selected romantic books and publications, imagining himself in the role of the main female character. He had to read certain especially romantic and girlish passages aloud. At first he found it embarrassing but I insisted because vocalizing these things actually seems to really influence ones thinking and also just because i simply enjoyed his discomfort and submission. Making him timidly declare that he was in love with a boy or making him confess he desperately wanted to be kissed by some man whilst fluttering his long eyelashes and blushing profusely was just delightful. And sometimes we

nylon stockings were now compulsory

watched a romantic movie during which he found that I had dressed him exactly like the romantic heroine as to more completely identify with the scenario in question. Naturally i teased him mercilessly about his imaginary romances. Needless to say that after a few of these lessons and with a little stepmotherly help he became a very responsive subject. I even made him write fictional love-letters in which he had to describe in loving detail what he wanted the boy/man I had selected to do to him. Around that time I also decided that it was about time young Joyce was introduced to the outside world and more specifically was to learn about real boys and what effect he/she now had on them....

That meant I would seek out a boy who was usually an overly shy son  of one of the society ladies I knew. The sort of boy who needed a bit of help meeting girls. When the boy found my approval, I would blatantly invite him over and set up a sort of chaperoned date where Joyce would be glammed up completely, make-up and glamorous hairdo, wearing her sexiest eveninggown for her 'boyfriend',who would be extremely shy and unexperienced and was totally intimidated and nervous at meeting a stunning sophisticated young lady like Joyce. These evenings were spent teaching the youngsters how to behave on a date. This went from holding hands, him putting his arm around my protege's waist and holding her to giving eachother furtive little kisses. Later in the evening they would  slowdance with my very specific instructions how to hold and caress eachother, look into eachother's eyes and behave as a teenagers in love. If this all went well they'd be back on the sofa for the final act of the evening, the kissing and making out scene. If I was convinced they were doing it with the right amount of enthusiasm I would leave them alone for a while so they could practice being in love just a little bit more. By this time my conditioning and girlygirl lessons had him reacting to the situation almost completely like any delicate sexually awakening teenage lady would. By now he was immerged so deeply into his new role that it looked like he seemed to actually love every minute of making out with the boy and at least outwardly gave the impression of a young lady who was deeply in love with her beau.

This somewhat mischievous stepmother has really enjoyed Joyce's first little practice date. It's absolutely delightful to see how his underlying reluctance to participate in my little schemes loses out again and again against the wonderfull new feelings and affectations I'm forcing upon him. Joyce did so well and showed so much enthusiasm at the kissing and making out part that her 'boyfriend' actually looked kinda dazed when his mother finally picked him up. Joyce's old self is still in there somewhere of course but that side of my little lady has absolutely no chance of surfacing as long as I keep rewarding my sweet susceptible Joyce with new sensual and erotic sensations and adventures. The practice dates are perfect excuse to do this, I think I'll make her sit on the boy's lap next time, wiggeling her sexy satincovered bum on the poor adolescent's already straining genitals..........
But the fun shouldn't stop at that of course. I was already looking to put our ingenue in more challenging situations and after reading about the fabulous Lady Fenton and her machinations regarding her own stepson Georgina, I started to think it would eventually be a complete turn-on to watch my precious feminized princess being roughly groped and helplessly undergo the lascivious avances of a masculine much older suitor. The whole idea excites me to the point of actually getting close to orgasm. My precious effeminate will undoubtedly ruin his pretty make-up by crying when I tell him of my delightful plans but that will only make his eventual compliant surrender and resignation more delightful. To first see him defiantly squirm and protest and to then eventually watch him give in to his/her receptive girlish nature and my relentless conditioning up to a point where my little lady actually ends up being in complete rapture over the rather aggressive avances of her ardent manly admirer. I totally love it.
Stepmommy dearest is already getting moist in anticipation of the coming events....

 

Mrs. Titania Rawlinson-Smythe

 

to watch him helplessly undergo the lascivious
avances of a masculine much older suitor

 

the delights of Stepmotherhood 2

the delights of Stepmotherhood 3

the delights of Stepmotherhood 4

the delights of Stepmotherhood 5

Christeen revisited

Just something to pass the time. Am working on a story but it's taking a bit of time. My most recent Christeen forgeries have all been in black and white, partly because of the general atmosphere but mostly as it just looks more fitting when i use them as illustrations to my stories.......

Not by Chtisteen

  

Of course Chris spent time in wedding dresses before but this time aunty has a bit more in mind. Chris must now become a real bride for her depraved 'uncle' Bob....

 

I recently noticed the real Christeen did a version of this one too. I wouldn't have if i had known that as i don't want to plagiarise her work. I do however think that mine turned out better. Sorry....

 

 

'Miss' April and her 'Designated Suitor'

Although I knew that the wicked beautifull demi-goddess that was my darling mother wouldn't return from her out-of-town dealings until much later tonight, I had obediently and faithfully kept to her rules and dressed to the nines for the night in a beautiful pale ice blue satin evening gown with silver trim and a sexy slit at the side. My now quite long dark auburn hair was done up in a lustrous high ponytail that was tied off with a pretty satin bow that matched the dress and I was wearing a gorgeous pair of silver highheeled sandals. Of course I wore the appropriate jewelry and I was perfectly made up, false lashes and all. I was wearing my prettiest undies and a pair of delicious tan-coloured nylons. Nothing but perfection was enough for mother. I'd had a small meal and I had just settled on the couch with a girly drink when 'mother' called to tell me that her solicitor would come by to bring round some papers for her to sign. She told me she'd be home around ten and I was to stand in for her and keep the gentleman entertained until her return. I don't think she meant anything directly sexual with that but I'm certain that putting me in an uncomfortable and potentially disconcerting position is definitely part of her kind of tactics. Me being home alone, all glammed up, being set-up to meet with a relative stranger was certainly still quite scary, especially in the light of her recent hinting at and mercilessly teasing me about me supposedly starting to get attracted to men. Even worse was the fact that she may actually be right as the concept of being desired, especially by men, seemed to be an intregral and natural part of becoming the irresistible young lady in the mirror. Mother herself insisted that the pretty miss I must become, should always be acutely aware of the effect such a young lady has on men, and if you hadn't guessed already, mother is always right.
Sir Geoff was a quite handsome, conservative looking gentleman in his late fifties. I had met the gentleman briefly before but only in company of mother. I was not certain how much she had told him. Of course, as a 'friend of the family' he must know that my parents never had a daughter.

Sir Geoff was mother's solicitor but he had also been a longtime businesspartner of my late father and for some reason I was quite sure that Sir Geoff was on the level with and by the sound of it even quite supportive towards my depraved mother's imaginative ministrations to completely feminize her obviously already effeminate son. When asked, she usually tells the 'o so very respectable' town's people that she was totally unselfishly supporting her troubled son with his gender confusion issues. Only a small circle of her peculiar friends knew that my 'pillar of the community' mother was really a rather depraved woman who had caught her kinky son crossdressing and who had fallen in love with the idea of transforming him into her ultra feminine plaything, her own living Barbie doll.
It hadn't just been about having me dressed as a girl on a daily basis. Just making me a girl wasn't enough so mother decided I had to become the ultimate feminine little miss who would only be allowed to dress in silks and satins, who wore girdles with real nylon stockings and who always wore the prettiest of high heeled shoes. It was going to be ribbons, bows and lace all the way. Money played no role and my closet was now filled with sophisticated cocktail dresses, glistening evening gowns, impossibly narrow pencil skirts and the most glamorous silk blouses. I owned several pairs of beautiful high heeled shoes and my drawers were filled with the most luxurious lingerie, foundations and stockings. I basically was made to live like a stylized grown-up version of one of these junior pageant princesses. Of course it wasn't as ridiculous, as mother had excellent taste in matters of fashion and style but just saying I looked overtly feminine was not enough. I had to be precious and exquisite now and I was only allowed to speak, act and move
accordingly. The young lady that now accompanied mother on her out of town shopping sprees was a picture of beauty and refinement. She was stunning and

I had to become the ultimate feminine
little miss who would only be allowed
to dress in silks and satins, who wore
girdles with real nylon stockings and
who always wore the prettiest of high
heeled shoes.

sophisticated, an overtly delicate and feminine delight. She possessed a true vintage moviestar glamour, a rarity in today's age for a young miss her age.

Of course I couldn't complain much as this had all started when she accidentally walked in on me in the old attic. I had been completely dressed as a girl and was posing in front of a large mirror. I had been experimenting with dressing up as a girl there since I found this strangely fascinating suitcase filled with all kinds of ladies attire, a pair of high heeled shoes and even a wig. In hindsight I'm not completely sure if me discovering the mysterious suitcase had been completely accidental. Anyway, that's when 'mother' took charge of things.

Mother had been intrigued as she had watched watched her 16 year old son admire his own girlified reflection in the full length mirror. She watched him elegantly spin around, his skirt and petticoat swirling with him. She smiled as she watched her son throw his reflection a little kiss. He looked as if in bliss, captivated and enthralled in his/her femininity and mother had fallen in love with the sight of pure and wondrous femininity that had come alive right in front of her. With his slender near hairless body and his refined features he would be perfect.  He had everything to become sugar and spice and a whole lot of nice. Her beautiful glamorous princess, overtly feminine and elegant, a pristine doll whose beauty was soon to rival her own.
No longer would he be allowed to be a rough and disobedient adolescent boy. He must become mother's doll, a picture perfect, sweet, and and adorable young lady....
Several months went by since and under the inspiring guidance of my mother I had entered into a fairy world of hopelessly delicate debutantes and helpless fragile damsells. Mother was revelling in her new power and sheer dominance over me. Her enthusiasm and the obvious pleasure she seemed to get from my virtual subjugation clearly said that it was at least partly for her own depraved sexual satisfaction. 

I hadn't actually been as if I had to be forced as mother made shure that my up to then hidden desires and fetishes were well catered for and under these extraordinary circumstances we may find it much easier to do and think what we are told than to make these decisions and choices ourselves. In the end things are not our responsibillity anymore either 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, it's a hell of an attractive concept. And of course the silk dresses, luxurious lingerie and the stockings were completely intoxicating. I never had had a chance against such temptations.

So when Sir Geoff had arrived with the papers I had first showed him to a chair and poured the gentleman a brandy. When I went to put mother's papers on her desk, my mind was racing and i was close to panicking, wondering what my next action should be but when I returned Sir Geoff was already confidently sitting back in his chair, sipping his brandy and quietly smoking a cigar, seeming completely on top of the situation.... I only found out later that Sir Geoff, apparently having a penchant for this kind of very overt and deliberate femininity, had already shown an active interest in my development and  had been keenly aware of mother's little scenario from the beginning....
"Your darling 'mother' has made you look so very very lovely and feminine now, April my dear", said Sir Geoff, virtually drooling over my new appearance. Gaining some confidence out of his reaction, I put my hands on my hips and couldn't resist striking a sexy pose, glancing coyly over my shoulder at him and drawing the slit in my pretty evening gown up my thigh a bit higher, suggestively showing off a large part of my smooth stockinged leg to this lecherous older man."You are becoming quite a bit of an irresistible little seductress, honey" the elderly 'Don Juan' mumbled, only just keeping himself from salivating. Then he put down his drink and his cigar, nervously took a few steps toward me and now, standing quite close to me, proceeded to gently slip his arm around my waist . "Now tell me, darling....Your delightful 'mother' tells me that once you are all dressed up as the little lady we agreed you must become now, you desperately want to be held and kissed by a real man. Is that true, sweetheart?" "Yes sir", I mumbled, still slightly disconcerted by admitting it.Up to recently I still tried to deny it but it was true, as soon as I pictured myself as the glamorous young miss 'mother' made me portray, the mere thought of men lusting after me got me all tingly and excited. The whole time when I was mincing around the house in a pretty cocktail dress, full make-up and hair, wearing my highest heels, images of me being in the arms of and passionately making out with masculine older men kept racing through head to the point where I would actually cream my pretty girly panties at the mere thought." Does that include more mature men too, my darling April?" Sir Geoff continued, smiling expectantly, meaning that 'mother' had probably already briefed him on the details of my daydream suitors. I timidly flustered "yes sir" as the men in my fantasies had actually exclusively been somewhat portly masterfull older gentlemen who always wore a conservative suit and tie. Which was probably why my depraved 'mother' had set me up to be alone with Sir Geoff, who fitted the profile perfectly. Now understanding where this was supposed to go, I felt a shiver of excitement and anticipation going through me and at that moment I actually had to keep myself from shaking oncontrollably as I realised I was about to give myself to this depraved elderly aristocrat to do with me as he pleases by my own (relatively)free will. Sir Geoff, breathing heavily, had obviously taken his cue from my reply and now his large manly hands were holding me possessively around my waist whilst my

Then he put down his drink and his
cigar, nervously took a few steps
toward me and now, standing quite
close to me, proceeded to gently
slip his arm around my waist .

delicate manicured hands with the shiny salon nails were resting on his shoulders. And then he moved in to kiss me, and just like in my daydreams I immediately felt incredibly feminine and totally receptive towards his romantic avances.
The anxiety leading up to that first, still almost shy kiss had already gotten me to go weak at the knees, but when our mouths then met again with less platonic intentions and Sir Geoff began to French kiss me deeply and passionately, I was close to a spontaneous orgasm. I can still remember tasting the manly aroma of cigar smoke and whiskey on his breath, and the urgency of his thick muscular tongue invading me like it was his manhood. I wanted to drive him crazy with lust and desire for me and when I noticed his bulging manhood already growing throbbing hard against my belly I just gyrated my silk-encased young body against his as erotically as possible. By now his hands were everywhere, caressing my bum, my stocking tops through silk of my dress and then back to possessively pulling me against him whilst still frenching me passionately. Totally in ecstasy I moaned softly in between kisses. This successfull professional older man was so much stronger than me but however forcefull and passionate he held me, he still held me like I was something precious and delicate. I think I'm falling in love....with being made to be April.

 I only found out later that Sir Geoff,
 apparently having a penchant for this
kind of very overt and deliberate femininity
, had already shown an active interest in
my development and  had been keenly
aware of mother's little scenario from
the beginning....

   


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