Kiss My Feet: Sissy Training and Forced Feminization

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You will have seen Marie-Christine's clever new feature in Prim's Petticoat Pansies, darling. She's good at captioning her photos for our amusement. She just has to share her desire to wear women's skirt suits, the better to fit in with women at work where they want to look their executive best. Here are a couple of magazine covers she has created for Male Secretary Monthly! Jayne take me out of here... please. I don't want these women to see me in my little pinkie romper... pleeeease!" On a slightly different note, darling, I want to show you some gorgeous examples of Morpheus fashions. You'll have seen examples on the web, and here are some that show what lovely styles there are these days for young women. I've got to tell you about what happened to me as a teenager, after reading Prim's story about "Caught In Flagrante Transvestis". I was an only child but I discovered that I wanted to wear my mother's dresses, nearly all of them were so attractive to me. I wasn't with a sissy boyfriend like Neville and Tony in Prim's story, but I was as careless as Neville was. My mum caught me wearing one of her dresses over one of her skirts, which I was using as petticoat. I had her dresses and skirts waiting for me to put on next, and blouses too all over her bedroom - I wish Prim was describing the scene, he'd make a much better story of it than I can. I took her dress off in front of her but I couldn't get her skirt off. She had to help me undo it, then left me to tidy her things away.

All three women stood and laughed when they saw the spread out effect. "Baby Butterfly!" they exclaimed, as Angelina smiled her agreement. Seeing him dangling and bouncing helplessly, there was only one thought in the minds of all four women: we can't leave those sexless sissy genitals hidden inside. It was Trinny who said it first. She stopped talking because there were sounds reaching them through the closed door from the hall: grumbly sorts of squeals, and Jayne's voice raised in annoyance. There was quite a pantomime going on out there and Eleanor and Trinny got to their feet to see if they could help, but the door opened as they got to it and they were faced with the husband in question. I'd love to have friends coming round every day," said Jayne, passing a fresh diaper to Trinny so that she could open it out to wrap around the weeping sissy. This is one of my favourite dresses for putting him into," said Jayne, standing in front of him and shaking out a sizzling dress in oyster pink taffeta with a drop waist that had an enormous bow at one hip and a lace collar that draped from shoulder bows. "It was the dress I was wearing when we were at a New Year's party, and it was that night that he proposed to me." There was an "Aaaahhhh" of sympathy from the other three as they turned on him and grinned. "I want him to know he's mine now: not only my obedient husband, of course, but my sissy wimp of a baby slave." My mother surprised me by admitting she’d been self-absorbed, only seeing me as an extension of herself. She said that, as a child, she would have given her front teeth for the clothes she lavished upon me. “It felt like you were rejecting all the privileges we’d worked so hard to give you.”Oh don't... Don't laugh at me, please," he wept, squirming between his captured arms so that he dangled and bounced as they threaded his romper higher to reveal more of his bloomers. the next day, I returned to the original location and got a red tutu and more tattoed pantyhose. They so hot. Oh yes," said the supervisor, standing up. "You have to release his foot elastic, like this... then his knee loop to lift his leg out of it." The sobbing husband found one of his satin bootees on the floor again and put in a flurry of struggles to try and release himself, but Angelina put a stop to that by lifting his free foot into the air so that he bounced helplessly up and down again between their skirts and dresses.

Exactly," said Angelina. "You have put your finger on the heart of the matter. By babifying these pathetic males, we show them how they are fully under our control, like a mother controlling everything for her baby. And not only that: they also see that we intend to show them in all their failure to other women who will despise them for the pathetic weaklings that they are. And that's why I want to show you the Baby Butterfly this morning." That's all for this Newsletter, hon, except that I want to show you a couple of nice pieces of Prim's art. Starting with this example of Sweetheart Styles, which appeared in Prim's Petticoat Pansies issue#12Eleanor held the bar with her hands outside the arm cushions and slowly let her weight sag until she dangled in a flounce of mandarin silk, with her tunic top flaring in and out around her, her high heeled boots swaying on the floor and the knees of her white polyester pants hanging and bouncing in front. There wasn't a sound from the Baby Butterfly, which bent gracefully to absorb its passenger as her hand bar bounced up and down at arm's length. I've loved having you with me to read my Newsletter, darling. How sweet it is for all those girls to write in so that we can share their feminine thoughts together. I hope you join me to read another Newsletter next month, or better still you could join me inside the Wendyhouse where all my Newsletters are waiting for you in the Emma Room.

Angelina Frayne was 48 and a bouffant blonde, one of those women whose copious bust and low stature give the impression of a bundle of energy in female form. She sat forward on the edge of her armchair, angled towards Eleanor and Trinny on their settee. The completed structure had two twelve-foot base-bars lying parallel on the carpet, outside the settee and armchairs, with sloping uprights to a height of seven feet, none of them meeting but reaching transverse bars that created an overhead rectangle, with the elastic cords for the arm bar and the leg loops hanging towards one end. Eleanor held the arm bar and wondered if it would take her weight. Like a baby Shirley Temple," giggled Trinny, who held him by one arm while she had the fingers of her other hand inside his leather harness so that he couldn't pull away from her. "And what a gorgeous, cherubic face for a baby husband. Isn't he just a cutie little darling!" this darling tutu skirt it's double layers and ruffles and ribbon and a gleaming hot pink waist and hip section, and it was Girls and cars, just mix. My neighbor pulled out of her driveway in little sports car, and I said..Heh, can I take pic with the car? So here I go...

Oh lovely," laughed Trinny, who was 44 and an estate agent. "I love it when they go through that pain barrier of realisation that you are going to have them babified... and keep them like that. I love showing Jeremy to other women who will see him as a living example of male submissiveness and failure." And look at his hair," giggled Eleanor. "All those lovely blond curls, like little Shirley Temple."