Forced Into Frocks And Frillies free porn video

FORCED INTO FROCKS AND FRILLIES A story by Johnathan I stood in the centre of the room, close to tears, as my two step sisters howled at my appearence. I pressed my bare legs together as Lesley, the eldest of the two girls, she was fifteen, one year younger than me, and her sister Caroline, she was fourteen, fussed with the little girl outfit I was wearing. Yesterday I had finished school, all my exams taken, I was no longer required to attend. My step-mother immediately informed me of her plans to reduce my status to that of a six year old, and she had said sneering, I was now going to be dressed as a girl, all my boy's clothes were to go to Oxfam, from now on, I would only have frocks and frilly knickers to wear. I had listened in disbelief as she explained my new role, thinking she was having a joke or something to scare me so I that I didn't get ideas above my station now that I had left school. But this morning mother had woken me, dragged me into her bedroom and took great delight in putting me into a puff sleeved little girl's frock, frilly petticoats underneath and a pair of frilly drawers that the dress and petticoats failed to hide, they were so short. A pair of ankle socks and strap over shoes completed my ridiculous outfit. During the last year, mother had allowed me to grow my hair long, obvious in preperation for this day. She now combed my hair into two bunches and tied two ribbons in bows at either side of my head. She pulled me over to a long mirror and I gasped at my reflection, I looked like a little girl, except for my size. "It's a good job you take after your father," she said refering to my slight build and lack of height, I was only 4 ft 6" tall. She then dragged me downstairs to show me off to her daughters, Lesley and Caroline. Lesley fussed with my puff sleeves, Caroline lifted my skirts to laugh at my frillies. Mother enjoyed watching them humiliate me with their cruel comments of, "Isn't he so pretty, doesn't he look so sweet in frillies, dresses really do suit you Johnathan." "From now on Johnathan is to be treated like a six year old little girl," mother informed them, "as you are both much older than that, you have complete authority over him, now that he is your little sister." They laughed at my crest fallen face. Mother looked sternly at me. "You will do exactly as you're told now that you are only six," she said. "Do you understand?" "Yes mother," I said in almost a whisper. "Little girls say mummy," giggled Lesley. "Yes mummy," I corrected myself. "I can't wait to tell all my friends," laughed Caroline as she put on her school blazer. "I'm sure they'll all want to see my new little sister." "And mine," chimed Lesley, "and I'll make sure all the boys in his old class know about him, and the girls too, especially Elizabeth." A wave of deep humiliation surged through me, Elizabeth was my girl friend, surely they wouldn't show me off to her like this. Lesley looked into my eyes with an evil grin on her face, "I wonder what she will say now that her once proud boy friend is now just a simpering six year old little girl," she mocked. "Oh yes tell Elizabeth first." Caroline was dancing with glee, mother approved entirely with their ideas. "Perhaps Elizabeth would like to come to tea tonight after school," mother suggested. She turned to me. "You would like your big sister to invite Elizabeth for tea, wouldn't you Johnathan?" I felt physically sick. "Yes mummy," I croaked. It was time for the girls to leave for school, I had to stand with my arms behind my back, feet together while they kissed their little sister on the forehead and promised to see me at tea-time with my girlfriend Elizabeth. When they had gone mother put on her coat and helped me into a very childish smocked coat in my size. She picked up her handbag, took my hand and made for the front door. She could feel my resistance to going outside the house dressed in such a ridiculous fashion. "It's no use pulling back Johnathan, you are in dresses for the rest of your life. You had better get used to going outside in them," she sneered dragging me into the drive and locking the front door. The soft summer breeze lifted the hems of my skirts and I tried to hold them down. Mother commented on how girlish I looked and how quickly I had learned to act like a little girl as I tried to stop the wind exposing my frilly knickers. I was put into a child's safety seat in the back of the car. Mother had obviously prepared very well for my return to childhood. Just as we were pulling out of the drive a large van pulled up, it had "PATTERSONS NURSERY SPECIALISTS" written on the sides in bold letters. Mother stopped the car and had a few words with the two men in the van, gave them the front door key with instructions on where to leave it if she wasn't back before they left, and returned to the car, smiling wickedly at me as we drove off. As the car went through town I tried to hide as much as possible but the safety seat straps allowed for little movement, and because I was higher than normal, I could easily be seen by anyone that cared to look. Eventually we arrived at our destination, The Studio, a health and beauty clinic for assertive women like my step-mother. The building was quite modern having only been erected two years ago, it was quite a large establisment having three stories and spread over a large area. The huge car park was already full and mother pulled into a space with her name on and got out. Once again she sensed my reluctance to leave the sanctuary of the car, but she shot me a look that told me that she would stand no nonsense. It made me shudder in fear, so I climbed out of the child's seat giving a lovely display of my frillied bottom. The two big glass doors that was the entrance to the studio slid open automatically as we approached. I was led by the hand into the thickly carpeted, well appointed reception area. A beautiful young woman sat at a reception desk and stood up as we walked in. I guessed she was around 25 years old, she had long black hair, her make-up was immaculately applied accentuating her good looks, she was tall in her white high heeled shoes, and wore a sheer white silk, low cut blouse that showed off her ample bossom and lacy bra, and a short white skirt. On her blouse was an identity badge, her name, Barbara, written on it. "Mrs Johnson, how lovely to see you again," she smiled walking over to greet us. "Good morning Barbara," mother said formely. "This must be Johnathan your darling six year old daughter that I've heared so much about." Barbara grinned enjoying my discomfort at being seen in such ridiculous clothes by a complete stranger. I felt my face burn scarlet as I fiddled with the hems of my short skirting, I did not know what to do with my hands. I was used to wearing trousers and jeans with pockets, not dresses. They both laughed at the absurdity of me being introduced as a little girl, but having a boy's name. "A pretty little girl like you should have a pretty name to match your pretty outfit," giggled Barbara as she fussed with my puff sleeves. Why do women do that I thought, feeling absolutely wretched at her attention. "Oh well, I was going to let him have a girl's name, but when I told him he was going to be put into frocks he kicked up such a fuss, he kept on insisting that he was a boy, so he can keep his boy's name if it makes him happy," mother told the laughing woman. "Why don't you go along to your relaxation session Mrs Johnson, Domonic is all ready for you. I'll take care of this sweet boy-girl," Barbara said. "Thank-you Barbara," mother smiled giving my hand to her, "you have my permission to punish him in any way you see fit if he shows the slightest signs of rebellion or if he throws one of his childish tantrums." "Don't worry we will," the woman laughed as mother turned and left me. Barbara walked me over to her desk and pressed a button. From a corridor, in the opposite direction, two women approached. These two were about the same age as Barbara, both very good looking, and dressed in exactly the same style as Barbara. They both wore identity badges, the one with long blonde hair was called Pauline, the other had her mousey coloured hair in a short modern style, her name was Joanna. They both had huge grins on thier faces. "Well who is this pretty little girl?" Pauline asked looking deeply into my eyes as I felt myself close to tears. "This is Johnathan, Mrs Johnsons six year old daughter," Barbara introduced me. "Johnathan!!" Joanna said in mock exclamation, "but that's a boy's name, surely you're not a boy?" She looked at me. "No miss........er..I mean....yes miss.......er..." I burst into tears. "Oh dear we have a cry-baby on our hands," Pauline laughed. "Don't worry Johnathan, we won't take away your pretty clothes, if you want to be a little girl that's allright by us, in fact we are here to help." I heaved big sobs as the tears trickled down my cheeks. Barbara produced a big pink baby's dummy from a drawer in her desk and pushed the teat into my quiverring lips. I wanted to eject it, but somehow found sucking on the dummy comforting, and I also remembered mother's warning regarding complete compliance. Joanna took my right hand and Pauline my left. "Off we go," Pauline sang in the tone that women used when trying to amuse a small child, and when I caught our reflection in the glass entrance doors, that is exactly what I looked like, an infant sucking on a dummy holding the hands of two adults, I felt so humiliated. "Your mother has brought you to a very special place," Pauline talked as we made our way deep into the building, "Joanna and I are especially trained in turning boys like you into pretty little angels for their mummies to show off to all her friends, isn't that right, Joanna." "It sure is," Joanna said, "when you leave here today Johnathan, you will look like a little girl, you will talk like a little girl, and do you know the best thing about your treatment Johnathan?" I shook my head. "Every thing we do today will be permanent and completely irriversible." She laughed loudly. I was pushed into an open door way. Joanna locked it once we were inside. "This is where your transformation begins Johnathan," Pauline said. The room had a shower base at one side with a flexible shower head, a set of hand-cuffs dangled ominously from the ceiling above the shower base. At the other side was a wash basin in front of what looked like a hair-dresser's chair, two steel trolleys were stood next to a big metal cupboard. There was not a window in the room, or any mirrors. "Now let's get you undressed," Joanna said. "I can undress myself," I stated but the dummy reduced my speech to almost baby talk, even I couldn't tell what I said. "Little girls are not capable of undressing themselves," Joanna snapped slapping my hands as I fumbled with my clothes, "little girls need adults to supervise and do every thing for them, don't they Johnathan." "Yes," I whispered. "Yes miss Joanna," she corrected. "Yes miss Joanna," I mumbled. My clothes were soon removed and I stood naked before them, covering my privates with my hands. Pauline folded my clothes carefully. "I'll get these to to your mother, you're going to be wearing much prettier clothes than these when you go home this afternoon," she said. "You'll absolutely adore them Johnathan, it's the frilliest, prettyest outfit you've ever seen, but you do want to look your best for Elizabeth, don't you?" An extreme wave of humiliation went through me at the mention of my girlfriends name and the thought of her seeing me in girl's clothes. "Oh you have a girlfriend Johnathan," Joanna said as she led me over to the shower tray, "we had better make sure you look extra pretty for her hadn't we. Hands up Johnathan." I raised my hands and the tips of my fingers touched the cold steel hand-cuffs. "On your toes little girl," Joanna shouted, slapping my bare bottom. I squealed in pain but did as I was told, Joanna stood on the edge of the shower basin, reached up and closed the hand-cuffs around my out-stretched wrists. I was now firmly secured to the ceiling, my toes barely touching the tiled shower base. "It hurts," I whined as the cuffs dug into my skin. "Shut up you whimp," Joanna snapped, "it's the price you'll have to pay for wanting to wear little dresses and act like a little girl." "But I don't......." I started to say as Joanna pushed in a huge dummy which had pink ribbons attached and she tied these at the back of my head effectively gagging me. "I don't know Johnathan, you're a sixteen year old boy for goodness sake. You should be out playing football and going to clubs, enjoying yourself, not prancing about in pretty frocks and playing with dollies. Whatever are your friends going to say when they see you in your frillies and what about Elizabeth have you told her you want to be a little girl. She's bound to be shocked, I wouldn't be surprised if she dumped you, and you will not be able to pick up another girlfriend once you are in frocks and frilly knickers. Have you thought about that, Johnathan?" I burst into tears, but they just laughed. "It's a free country, Joanna," Pauline joined in, "if Johnathan wants to be a little girl, who are we to stop him. One thing is for sure though, when he leaves here today, he will never be able to be a boy again." My tears gushed from my eyes as they donned plastic aprons and gloves with rough sponges on the palms. Pauline turned on the water to the shower head and they proceeded to scrub me with heavily scented soap. The sponges seemed to remove my layers of skin and I was whimpering by the time they had finished, my body was that sore. Joanna removed her sponged gloves, put on a pair of clear plastic ones, took a big tub of white cream from the cupboard and with a wooden spatula started applying the acrid smelling cream to my legs. She carefully worked around my groin and privates, up my waist, my trunk, under my arms in fact every inch of bare skin was covered thickly with the cream, which was starting to sting my already sore skin. "Close your eyes Johnathan," she instructed, "this stuff will blind you if you get it in them." I shut my eyelids tightly and Joanna finished her task. "We are going for a cup of tea now Johnathan, so don't go away," Pauline laughed. I heared the door unlock, open, close and lock again, I was alone. I strained against the cuffs to try and break free, it was hopeless, I hung there afraid to open my eyes in case the cream blinded me, my whole body on fire, my legs gripped with cramp from being on my toes and feeling very sorry for myself. It seemed ages before I heared the door being onlocked and opened. "Still here Johnathan," I heared Pauline giggle. It was such a relief when they rinsed the stinging cream off me. I was able to open my eyes and looked down in horror to see all my body hair disappearing down the drain. My skin had a pink glow to it. "That cream is the most powerful hair-removing cream ever produced," Joanna informed me as she rinsed the basin with the shower head, "it kills any hair folicles it comes into contact with and hair will never grow on any area that the cream has touched. Unfortunately there is a side effect, it leaves the skin a pretty pink colour, that is why it was banned," she carried on speaking as she picked up a large fluffy towel and proceeded to dry me. "But we think little girls like you look so pretty with glowing pink skin, and the effects are permanent," she giggled. Joanna had a huge powder puff in one hand and she dusted me from head to foot with the perfumed powder she had in her other. Pauline put on some more clear plastic gloves and I whimpered because I thought they were going to put that awful cream on me again. This time, however, she picked up a tube and proceeded to squirt the clear chemical smelling paste on my flacid penis. "Tell me Johnathan," Joanna whispered in my ear as Pauline worked her way all around my manhood, "have you ever had sex with Elizabeth?" I shook my head as I was still gagged by the dummy. "Have you ever had sex with any girl?" she whispered sounding concerned, again I shook my head. "Oh dear what a shame," she laughed because now your a little girl you will never be allowed to use your little thing for anything other than doing your wee-wee's." "All little girls are virgins Joanna," Pauline said, "he will be no different." Pauline was now rolling something very carefully up my penis, it looked like a small condom with a small rubber tube at the end which was shaped like the letter U. Pauline continued to apply the clear paste around my scrotum, under my crutch and the now hairless area above my penis. Joanna then handed her the strangest looking thing, it looked like a lump of dead skin. It was in fact latex and as Joanna onfolded it I could see it had what looked like a girls vagina in the centre. Pauline took it from her and very carefully pressed the thin latex to my skin above my condomed penis. She held it there for a few minutes, then she attempted to pull it off. I tried to scream as it felt like she was going to pull my skin off. Satisfied it was well stuck, she inserted the rubber tube from the condom into a hole in the latex. She carefully examined it to ensure it was correctly fitted. She came behind me and I felt her reaching through my legs. I gasped in pain as she viciously pulled the latex through forcing my penis and balls between my legs and into my crotch. Her hand cupped under my legs pushing my privates tightly into my body. I closed my eyes, I thought I was going to faint and wondered when she was going to let go, then I realised that she had, as she came to the front to admire her handiwork, but the pressure on my privates remained the same. "Now that looks so much better," Pauline laughed as I looked down at the begining of my false female sex, "no more dangly bits to spoil the look of your pretty panties Johnathan." Tears of pain and humiliation ran down my cheeks as I shook my head. "Oh stop crying Johnathan," Joanna snapped, "you should think yourself lucky you've only got a latex girl's sex. Only the other day we had a boy in here your age whose mummy had made him have an operation. She had his privates surgically removed and a real vagina put in its place." She saw the look of disbelief in my eyes. "It's true Johnathan," she came closer. "And I saw your mummy talking to that boys mummy and she wrote down the address of the special clinic where she had it done. So I would be a good little boy-girl if you don't want to lose your jewels if I was you," she warned with a grin on her face. At last I was released from the handcuffs. My wrists were red raw from the metal biting in. It was such a relief but I could hardly walk, my legs numb with cramp, and my privates painfully tucked away. Joanna helped me over to the hair-dressing chair and sat me down. I got a better look at the latex prosthetic they had glued onto me, it was amazing how realistic it actually looked. The latex was skin coloured and I could not tell where my skin ended and the latex started. Joanna slid her finger in the latex crevasse. "You're a proper girl now, Johnathan," she sneered, "have you ever done this to your girl-friend," she giggled evily as her finger probed the small hole, "did you ever wonder what it was like when you did this to Elizabeth," her sharp finger nail was now pushing against the tip of my trapped penis and I squealed in pain as she continued to probe. "Now you know just how helpless a little girl you really are," she laughed. I was pushed further back in the chair. Pauline pushed a pink puff sleeved smock over my head and pulled my arms through. It fastened at the back with ribbon ties, it was very short and for all the world looked just like a baby frock. A wide leather strap was fastened around my bare waist, further straps at my ankles and wrists ensured I was once again at thier mercy. The chair was on a swivel, it could be turned through 360 degrees, it could be tipped forward or backward and raised or lowered as the women wanted. Joanna fitted a pink plastic cape on my shoulders, turned the chair and tilted it back so my hair hung in the wash basin. She began shampooing and conditioning my hair, rinsing it with the flexible shower head that was fixed to the taps, Pauline prepared a hair dye paste. "You are such a lucky little girl to be pampered like this Johnathan," Joanna said as she applied the hair dye to my wet hair, "your mummy must really love you." I sucked sullenly on my dummy gag thinking that the only love my mother had for me was the love of humiliating me in front of her daughters. I cursed the woman and her daughters. "There all done," Joanna said removing her messy plastic gloves, "you'll have a lovely pinky-blonde head of hair when I wash it off." As they waited for the dye to take effect Joanna manicured my finger nails then painted them bright red, Pauline did the same to my toes. Joanna rinsed the dye from my hair, then roughly towel dried it. She put the chair upright and turned it around. Pauline wheeled one of the trolleys over, it was full of hair-dressing tools, scissors, combs, permanent wave solution and hundreds of long thin rollers. Pauline combed my damp hair straight over my eyes. She took a pair of sharp scissors and carefully cut along my eye-line from one ear to the other. "All little girls have deep fringes, you will be no exception Johnathan," she said. She trimmed the damaged ends of the rest of my hair, then proceeded to apply the strong smelling perm lotion and put my hair into the rollers. It took ages, but eventually she had finished, covering my tightly rollered head with a pink hair-net. "It's time for din-dins Johnathan," Pauline announced satisfied my rollers were secure, and releasing me from the chair, "we're far from finished, but we are getting there." She smiled taking a voluminous pair of pink, frilly drawers from Joanna. She held them open for me to step into and I saw the thick terry towelling lining that made them so bulky. They were toddler's training panties, in my size. Pauline pulled them up my smooth hairless legs, over my bottom and snapped the elasticated waist against my body flambouyantly. I found I had to stand bow-legged because of the bulky towelling and my trapped manhood. A pair of pink fluffy socks with ribbons through the top were put on my feet and tied at the ankle in a bow. "Handy-pandys in here Johnathan," Joanna ordered offering a fluffy pink mitten to my hand. I pushed it in and Joanna quickly tied the ribbon at the wrist in a double knot and then a bow. I realised too late that the mitten had a stiff leather insert and my hand was quite useless. Joanna already had the other mitten tied securely at my wrist. Joanna pulled a pink baby's bonnet on my head, making sure it covered the hair-net and adjusted the wide Bo-Peep style brim, then tied it under my chin in a big bow. "We don't want the other children laughing at your hair-net do we Johnathan." She smiled looking into my eyes and seeing my reaction at the mention of "other children." "Yes Johnathan, we have a creche here so that the ladies can bring their pre-school children and babies while they relax or work out in the gymnasium." "Oh god," I thought, "I'm going to be seen like this." And her false concern about me being laughed at because I was wearing a hair-net was an insult, how could they not laugh at me dressed like a baby. I heared little bells ringing as Pauline approached with a set of pink leather baby reins which she proceeded to buckle on me at my back and shoulders. Two smaller straps hung either side from the reins, my bemittened hands were put next to them and Pauline buckled my wrists tightly to my sides. She fixed on the pink leading rein and instructed me to follow Joanna as she walked out of the room. I felt the tug of baby reins as she controlled the pace of my walk, I felt so humiliated being led on reins like this. We walked down the carpeted corridor, turned and before us were two doors with small windows in them. I could hear the sound of young children as Joanna opened the swing door, my legs turned to jelly. There were three tables in the room, two of them were very low, and sat round these on small chairs were twelve little boys and girls, aged from three to six years old, white smocks over their clothes, plastic plates, knifes and forks before them. The other table was of normal height around this were five high-chairs, occupied by babies with bibs on. Two women in studio uniforms were attending to the older children, three others to the babies. The room fell silent for a second as we walked in, even the babies seemed to stop gurgling at the sight before them, then it exploded into the hilarious laughter of children and adults alike, pointing at me. Joanna clapped her hands to try to get a little order from the jeering crowd. "Children this is Johnathan, he will be joining you for lunch today." Another howl of laughter greeted the announcement of my name. "It's a boy in a dress," I heard one girl shout. "He's a baby girl," another joined in. I wished the ground would open up and swallow me. I could only look down, eyes lowered in shame. One of the attendants took my reins from Pauline. "You'd better sit with the babies," she laughed, "you don't look old enough to be with the big girls and boys." Another burst of laughter rang around the room as a big high chair was produced, the tray removed, and I was made to climb in. The tray was refitted trapping me in the infant chair and a big bib tied behind my neck. Joanna and Pauline could see I was in capable hands, they waved and left the room. I hated those two women, but strangely enough, I wished I was leaving with them instead of sitting in a baby's high-chair surrounded by laughing children. The room settled down somewhat as the food was brought in. The children were allowed to eat theirs themselves, but the babies had to be spoon fed, and that included me. My dummy gag was removed, my jaws ached because of the size of the teat, and a huge bowl of pasty looking baby food put on the tray. "Pureed liver and carrots, babies favourite," the young attendant feeding me giggled. She shovelled a large plastic spoonful in to my protesting mouth. It tasted absolutely revolting and I was not interested in having another spoonful of the foul mush. The woman would have none of it, she grabbed my nose as I shook my head and as I opened my mouth to breath another load went in. It was hopeless, my writhings only served to smear the food all around my face, she continued my force feeding until it was all gone. A huge bowl of dark brown paste was put on the tray next. "Woverly chocky pud-pud," the woman spoke in baby talk to me. It was so sweet, I hated sweet things, but had to eat every last spoonful. Finally a huge baby's bottle with a was put on the tray. The large nipple was forced into my mouth and I wretched at the sickly sweet milk as I was forced to swallow every last drop. At last it was over, I felt absolutely bloated and humiliated beyond belief. The attendant did not wipe the mess that was caked on my face, she admonished me for being the messyest baby there, and could not see me ever growing up to be a big girl. "Story-time children," a woman's voice rang out. The children cheered, stood up, all held hands and were led out by the woman. The babies were carefully lifted out of their high-chairs and taken after them. I was released by my attendant and led into the story room. All the children were sat in a semi-circle facing an empty chair with a book on it. The babies were put in cots that lined one wall for their lunch time naps. I was led over to a big wooden play-pen and told to get in and sit on the floor. My reins were fixed to the bars so I couldn't stand up and my dummy put back in place. "You play with your baby toys while the big boys and girls have their story babykins," she laughed. Sullenly I sat on the floor looking through the bars of my infantile prison listening to "Goldilocks and the Three Bears", absent mindedly playing with some wooden alphabet bricks. I did not think I would ever be glad to see Pauline and Joanna again but I was so pleased to be taken out of that room full of laughing children, who after their story were allowed to stand at the play-pen bars singing, "Baby Baby Bunting," and point at the big baby in his wooden cage. "Oh Johnathan, what a mess you are in," Joanna laughed as I was released from the reins, strapped in the hairdressing chair and my dummy taken out. The baby bonnet was taken off my head, but the booties, mittens and trainer knickers stayed on. Joanna wiped my face clean with several scented baby wipes while Pauline brought over another trolley. She took a surgical collar off the tray and fitted it tightly around my neck, I thought I ws going to choke. The collar tilted my head back and prevented me from moving it from side to side. Joanna picked up what looked like a pen with an electric lead on it, she pulled up a stool, plugged the pen lead into a nearby socket and switched it on. The pen buzzed angrily into life. Joanna fitted a sharp looking nib on it and dipped it in some dark ink. I winced in pain as she drew the pen slowly above my eyes where my brows used to be. The pen burnt, it felt like she was digging a needle into my skin. Joanna leant back and surveyed her work like an artist would do when painting a picture. She seemed very pleased with what she saw, replaced the nib on the pen and opened a bottle of bright red ink. "Open wide Johnathan," she ordered, holding my chin and digging the pen into my lips. I wanted to turn my head away but couldn't. I cried tears of pain and frustration. She constantly dipped the nib into the red ink, wiping away the excess as it ran down my chin. She worked carefully and slowly. I felt her draw the out line of my lips, then she was finished. She switched off her pen and stood up. "Brilliant, Johnathan, absolutely brilliant," she laughed, "this is the latest beauty innovation, cosmetic tattooing. Unfortunately it is impossible to reverse when it has been done, even laser treatment will not remove it from sensitive areas such as eyes or lips, that's why it has never really caught on. It gives a really pouty look to the lips as well, but that will suit your little girl status admirably." She turned to Pauline. "What do you think?" "He looks like a doll," Pauline laughed, "he'll never need lipstick that is for sure." Joanna took a pair of strange looking pliers from the trolley, carefully inserted two long black false eye-lashes in the curved jaws and ordered me to close my right eye. I felt the metal of the pliers against my eye-lids, then my eye-lashes were trapped as the pliers clicked together. "This takes a little while to work Johnathan, the false eye-lashes weld themselves to your real ones," she informed me, "permanantly." She wiped tears from my cheeks. "You'll have eye- lashes that any girl would die for," she laughed, "and because they are black you'll never need to use messy mascara." She released the pliers. It was so strange to see these long black lashes in front of my eye, they seemed to float up and down as I blinked. She repeated the process with the left eye. They said I looked like a baby deer as I fluttered my eyes for them. Pauline picked up another piece of cosmetic torture equipment, an ear piercing gun. She held it against my earlobe and I squealed as it punctured a little hole in my skin. The other ear was pierced and Joanna passed her a pair of twinkling ear-studs. "These are real diamonds Johnathan, they catch the light so everyone can see you've got them in. They also have very special backs that can only be removed with a special pair of pliers, so I'm afraid they are in for good," she giggled in my ear, "but we know just how much you little girls love wearing jewelery." "That's another job out of the way," Joanna laughed, "now let's get your ringlets out of those rollers." The hair net was removed and they both started taking the rollers out, carefully unwinding my curls. I could feel the ringlets cascading around my head and brushing against my ears. Joanna took a long length of wide pink ribbon, threaded it under my ringlets at the back and brought the two ends together on top of my head, where I felt her tie it in a bow. The hair-dressing trolley was pushed to one side and Pauline wheeled another over, this one had surgical equipment on it, such as syringes and clear phials of liquid. I was having grave misgivings about this stage of their efforts to sissyfy me when Joanna swabbed an area on my upper arm, filled a needle from one of the phials and injected it into me. "That should be enough," she said when it was three quarters gone, "but we'd better make sure it does its work." She pushed the plunger to the end and all the liquid disappeared. Pauline picked up a needle and filled it. "Tongue out Johnathan," she ordered. I yelped in pain as she stuck it in the end of my tongue and squeezed the contents into it. When she removed the needle I could feel the tip of my tongue harden and I lost all feeling in it. Joanna removed my collar, Pauline swabbed around my neck with cotton wool then injected either side of my adams apple. My whole neck seemed to freeze and tighten up as the needles were replaced on the tray and the trolley pushed away. My head was swimming and I suddenly felt the urge to releive my bladder. "Pleath I need the..............." I started to say, but my voice had changed, I heared the high pitched lisping of a little girl. I sounded like Shirley Temple. The injection in my neck had raised my voice many octaves and the injection in my tongue had left me with a really bad lisp. "What where you going to say sweety?" Joanna howled. It was too late I also found I could no longer hold my bladder and although I tried not to, I wet myself. I felt devastated here I was a grown boy wetting myself like a baby. "I needed to go the the bathwoom," I squeaked almost in a whisper so that I didn't have to hear my ridiculous voice. "Oh dear, and I bet it's too late now isn't it Johnathan," Pauline said, "I bet you've wet yourself, haven't you." They burst into hysterical laughter as I nodded my head. "I'm afraid, Johnathan, that just like all very little girls, your control over your bladder is very very weak, if you do not get to your potty quick enough, you'll end up with a very wet pair of frilly knickers," Joanna informed me as she wiped a tear from her laughing face, "and I don't think you will be wearing trainer panties so evey one will see you do it. You'll also find that you will need to wee-wee very often due to that injection in your arm, and I'm afraid the effects cannot be reversed, you are now just a little girl." I burst into a flood of tears again much to their amusment. "I think it's about time Johnathan saw exactly what we have done to him," Pauline said recovering from a fit of hysterics, "let's take him to the boutique, there are lots of mirrors there, then we can get him dressed properly in his party frock." Joanna agreed and I heared the tiny bells of the reins ringing as she buckled them on to me, I just sobbed dejectedly. Once again feelings of total submissiveness came over me as I was made to follow Joanna, Pauline tugging on my reins. We made our way back through the reception area. Barbara heard the sounds of the rein bells and my sobbing and stood as we passed. "Oh Johnathan is that really you," she burst out laughing as she inspected me. "I hardly recognised you, you look so pretty." She patted my padded bottom as I was led away, we entered a lift. Joanna pressed the button for the third floor, the doors slid quietly shut and up we went. The lift doors opened onto a huge room where women were relaxing in loungers, reading books drinking tea or just chatting to each other, gentle soft music was being piped into the room. I froze with fear as I saw them, backing into the corner of the lift to try to hide, I felt another gush of warm fluid enter my trainer panties as I wet myself again. "Don't be shy, Johnathan, "the ladies will not hurt you." Pauline giggled as she dragged me out of the lift into the open. The women's laughter rang in my ears as we passed them, my head bowed, my face crimson. At the end of the room was a double door with BOUTIQUE written above it, I was led in. Another spacious, well carpeted room spread out before us. There was racks of clothes in the centre of the room, one side had shelves full of underwear, night-wear and lingerie, another had rows and rows of shoes, and at the far end were the changing cubicles. There were several ladies in there brousing around, three or four assistants in their studio uniforms attending to them. I felt the need to go to the toilet again, I grabbed my frillied, padded crotch. "I need the toilet," I squeaked. "Little girls say I need a wee-wee," Pauline sneered dragging me into the boutique, "and they ask very politely for their potties or they are lible to get punished for being naughty," she warned. "I AM NOT A WITTLE GIRL," I screamed, my girls voice making a nonsense of that statement, "I AM A THIXTEEN YEAR OLD BOY. I WANT TO GO TO THE BATHWOOM." I stamped my feet in utter frustration of being treat like a small child. The uniformed assistants and the other ladies looked round when they heared the commotion. "YOU NAUGHTY LITTLE GIRL," Joanna shouted, slapping my bare legs, "YOU WILL HAVE TO LEARN NOT TO HAVE TANTRUMS LIKE A BABY." She hit me each time she said a word. I tried to dance out of the way, but she held my reins tightly, keeping me in range of her swinging arm. "I'M A BOY, I'M A BOY, I'M A BOY," I cried, "I AM NOT A WITTLE GIRL." Pauline dragged me over to a full length mirror and stood me in front of it. "Does that look like a boy," she said calmly pointing to my reflection. My eyes widened in horror as I saw myself for the first time. The big ribbon bow perched on top of my pinky-blonde, ringletted head, my thin dark arched eye-brows, my thick, long, fluttering, tear- stained black eye-lashes, my deep red lips, pouting and shaped in a perfect cupid's bow. The pink baby clothes, my hairless legs and my booteed feet, allied to the high pitched, lisping, Shirley Temple voice made a mockery of my insistance of being a boy. There was not one shred of evidence that the reflection I was looking at, was or ever had been a male. "Can you see yourself, Johnathan," Joanna sneered, "do you still think you are a boy?" I burst into uncontrollable tears, stamping my feet on the ground, making my reflection look even more like a little girl having a terrible tantrum. "I've had just about enough of your insolence young lady," Pauline snapped as I continued my insistance of being a boy. "It's time for you to learn that little girls should be seen and not heard. We'll see if a good thrashing of your bottom wil learn you some manners." She started pulling me towards the door. "I'm sure these ladies do not want to hear your tantrum while they are shopping." I was dragged, screaming, back through the room full of ladies, into the lift and into a small room. This one had a long table in the centre with wide leather straps down its length, two metal poles either side and at one end with what looked like stirrups hanging from them. I was thrown, kicking, onto the table face down, Joanna easily pinned me down as Pauline fastened the straps around my waist, arms and legs, I felt my frilly trainer pants being roughly pulled down to my knees, my wet bottom feeling cold and exposed out of the warmth of the towelling knickers. Joanna handed Pauline a hard soled, black, gym slipper, she held the other. WHACK, WHACK, WHACK, the beating started, the room filled with the sound of the slippers hitting my bare bottom and my screams of pain. The spanking stopped just as suddenly as it started, Pauline coming round to look into my tear stained face. "Now, Johnathan are you a boy or are you a little girl?" she asked. I hesitated in giving her my reply and Joanna hit my bottom again. "I'm a girl," I squeaked in a whisper. "Louder Johnathan, tell me you are a little girl," Pauline sneered. WHACK, Joanna offered an incentive for me to renounce my manhood. "I'M A WITTLE GIRL, I'M A WITTLE GIRL," I screamed. "Have you ever been a boy Johnathan?" she continued. WHACK, "NO I HAVE NEVER BEEN A BOY," I shouted, "I'VE ALWAYTH BEEN A WITTLE GIRL." "How old are you, Johnathan?" The torture continued. WHACK, "THIX YEARTH OLD," I sobbed uncontrolably, "I'M A THIX YEAR OLD WITTLE GIRL, PWEATH THTOP." They threw the slippers to one side, loosened my restraints, turned me over and tightened the straps across my body and arms. My feet were put into the stirrups and fastened, my legs strapped to the poles. Pauline snapped on a pair of rubber gloves, dipped her fingers into a jar of vaseline and shoved them up my bottom. I squealed at this invasion of my body, she continued to thrust her fingers in and out. Joanna hooked a bulging brown rubber bag to one of the poles, the pregnant looking bag had a tap then a long tube running from it. Joanna lifted the end of the tube to my eyes as she greased it with the vaseline. I quailed at the size of the thick black rubber nozzle, she just grinned evily. "NO, NO NO," I screamed as she inserted it into my rose-bud. It felt as though I would be split in half. She rammed it home not listening to my cries of protestation. She then opened the tap on the bag, and I felt the warm liquid flow into me. It was a strange sensation which soon grew uncomfortable as the bag emptied. I was writhing in agony as Joanna sqeezed every last drop from the now whithered bag. Pauline stood by with a white tampon, which she quickly inserted as Joanna removed the nozzle. Pauline held the tampon in place until it expanded sufficiently to prevent me from expelling the warm liquid that was causing my discomfort. She then pulled up my trainer panties and began releasing my legs. "Now, Johnathan, we are going back to the boutique, where you will act like the little girl you say you are. You will ask nicely for your potty, or I'll make you mess your pants in front of the ladies then dress you in baby clothes and send you home with a dirty bottom," she said. I was defeated. "Yeth mith," I sqeaked. They smiled at my contrite compliance. I was led back to the boutique where a crowd of ladies and assistants gathered around me. My stomach was aching and I was getting severe cramps and I knew I would not be able to stop the pressure on the tampon from forcing it out. "Pweath mith I need a potty," I whispered with a burning face. "Speak up, Johnathan, why do you need a potty?" Joanna asked. I pressed my knees together. "Pweath mith I need to do a poo-poo," I lisped, "pweath can I have a potty." One of the attendants laughing at me was much younger than the rest of the other women, she couldn't have been any older than me. She was pushed foreward by a woman. "This is Susan, she is our trainee, she deals with all the children in the boutique," she said to Joanna. I was turned to face her. "Pweath mith I need a poo-poo," I said sobbing. She laughed. "I'll get the special potty for you." She carried over a huge plastic baby's potty and placed it on the floor, in the centre of the crowd. She knelt down and started to pull down my frillies. I looked at Pauline with pleading eyes for her to stop this girl the same age as me from pulling down my drawers and putting me on the potty, Pauline just grinned. "Pweath mith can't we go to a changing cubicle," I said. The girl continued her task. "Little girls like you have no false modesty where us adults are concerned, you will have to get used to having your knickers pulled down in public if you cannot control your wee-wees and poo-poos." She laughed loudly as she saw my false sex. She sat me down and I was forced to look up at the laughing crowd, my smock up, illiminating into the potty in front of them. My humiliation was complete. It took ages for me to expell all the liqid into the potty. The crowd dispersed leaving me to do my buisness in front of Joanna, Pauline, and Susan. Susan wiped my bottom with a scented baby wipe and took away the potty full of smelly liquid. "There's a clever girl," Joanna smiled. Susan returned. "Johnathan is having his girlfriend around for tea," Pauline told her, "so he wants to look extra specially pretty for her." "I have his clothes all ready for him," Susan giggled, taking my hand and leading me over to a clothes rail. I stood there mortified as she undressed me leaving me naked in the middle of the shop. I saw my reflection in a mirror, and even without the ridiculous baby clothes, I still looked like girl, especially between my legs. She took a set of petticoats off a hanger, these were a creation in their own right, made from layers of rustling paper-silk, with fancy lace edging. It was similar to the kind of underskirts worn by ball-room dancers, only much shorter. It rustled deafeningly as I held my arms up and she dropped the masses of frilly paper-silk skirting over my head. Susan tied something at the back of my neck, she told me the petticoat had special ribbon tapes that she had tied in a double knot, I would not be able to get the petticoats off myself, I would have to ask an adult. The skirting swayed disconcertedly aound my hips as she fussed the frills out, they were that short they only just covered my bottom. The party frock came next, this was a fine pale pink taffeta which again rustled loudly and had little pink hearts in a slightly deeper pink printed all over it. It had huge puff sleeves, a lacy collar in white silk with lace edging, a wide pink silk sash just under the short bodice, and a very full skirt that sat daintily and contrasted with the white petticoats, which could clearly be seen under the full pink skirt. Susan buttoned it on me at the back with tiny heart shaped buttons and tied the silk sash in a huge bow. A pair of ultra frilly pink drawers were then pulled up my bare legs, the masses of lace frills ran along the seat of the knickers and there were lacy frills around the leg openings with long pink ribbons at either side, these brushed against my legs as she pulled them over my bottom and fitted them in place. Susan knelt down and ordered me to raise my right foot while she put a very frilly white ankle sock on it followed by a pink T-bar shoe which she buckled in place. The shoe was an exact replica of the type of shoe a toddler which had just learned to walk might wear. My left foot was soon dressed exactly the same. Susan stood up, fussed with my skirts again, straightened my lacy collar, puffed up my huge sleeves, adjusted my hair ribbon slightly and patted any disturbed ringlets back into place. "There Johnathan," she giggled as she pulled me over to a long miror, "the prettiest, sweetest, little girl I have ever seen." I could have died, surely this simpering reflection of little girlhood was not me. If anything I looked younger than six year old, a toddler in fact, dressed in her prettiest clothes waiting to be taken out by her mummy to Sunday school or party. I burst into tears yet again while the cruel women taunted me for being such a big sissy. "He's so happy he is crying," laughed Susan. "Be a good little girl and thank Aunty Susan for making you look so pretty Johnathan," Joanna said, "and don't forget to curtsey." I stepped forward took my skirts in my trembling fingures and for the first time in my life I bobbed down in a curtsey, "Fank you Aunty Thuthan for dwething me in thuch a pwetty fwock," I lisped. She kissed me condesendingly on the forehead. "It was my pleasure," she giggled, "tell your mummy to bring you again, you've been such a good little girl." I was led back to the reception area. My skirts had a mind of their own as they bobbed and swayed as I walked, Pauline instructed me to take tiny little steps on my tip-toes and I found I could hardly keep up with her as she strode off. As we passed the relaxation room, the ladies all oohed and aahed at the pretty little girl trying so hard to keep up with her Aunties in her pretty frock, with her mincing little steps. Barbara went into raptures about my appearence. I had never been fussed over by as many women in my life before, and I hated every minute. I felt the need to go to the toilet again. I pressed my knees together and grabbed my frilly crotch. "Peath mith I need to wee-wee," I squeaked, "pweath may I have a potty." This was the first time I had spoken in front of Barbera she howled, "Oh my sweet darling little girl." She laughed Aunty Barbara has a potty behind her desk. "Now don't go wetting those pretty frillies will you." "No mith, pwaeath huwwy mith." I implored her dancing on the spot feeling that I was going to wet myself any second. She put the potty down pulled down my knickers and lowered me onto the potty. "He's gorgeous, there isn't a trace of maleness in him, he is without doubt the best you've ever done," Barbara congratulated her colleagues while looking down at me. It was so humiliating sat there listening to them discuss me, like women do in front of children not able to understand what the adults are saying. I found it so difficult to hold my skirts up I looked down in shame, but only got a better look at my frilly ankle socks and baby shoes, everywhere I looked reminded of my little girl status. "Pweath mith I've finithed," I said tears filling my eyes again. I repremanded myself for crying like a child but the tears came so easy now I was a little girl. Barbara dried my false sex with a small tissue she had ready, pulled my knickers up and readjusted my skirts then gave me a great big hug. "Who's the prettiest little girl in the whole wide world," she gushed. "Me mith," I lisped. "Elizabeth is just going to adore you in your ribbons and pretty party frock," she giggled, "isn't she Johnathan." A paroxysm of shame surged through my body at the mention of Elizabeth's name, the events of the day had made me forget that mother had invited her for tea. The thought of her seeing me like this filled me with absolute dread, but there was nothing I could do about it now I was trapped in my dress and my appearence was unchangeable. I burst into tears. "Yeth mith," I sobbed my reply to the laughing female. Mother was sent for and she too went into raptures about my appearence. She fussed with me just as Barbara had done, congratulating Pauline and Joanna on doing such an excellent job on her step-son. She lifted my skirts to get a better look at my frillies and noticed how flat I was at the crotch. I shivered as her hand rubbed my latex sex through the flimsy material her eyes widening at the feel of a female sex. She pulled my frillies down. "What a wonderful idea," she howled. "He came in here a sixteen year old boy in a dress," she observed, "that sixteen year old boy has gone forever, he is a very pretty six year old little girl." She pulled my knickers back in place. "Look at the time Johnathan," she said, "your big sisters will be home from scool soon. Thank the kind ladies for looking after you and making you into such a pretty little girl." I lifted my skirts again and bobbed a curtsey in front of Barbara. "Fank you mith for being tho kind to me and tuning me into a pwetty wittle girl." Barbara hugged me again. "Anytime," she giggled. I curtseyed for Pauline and repeated my lisping speech. "It's been a pleasure," she laughed. Joanna was next. "That's alright Johnathan, but you be a good little girl for your mummy and your older sisters or Aunty Pauline and I will not be very pleased," she warned. "Yeth mith Joanna." I shivered remembering the beating they had given me. It had been the first time mother had heared me speak and her mouth opened in amazement. "Have you taught him to talk like that?" she asked incredulously. "No, that is his normal voice now, Johnathan will speak like Shirley Temple for the rest of his life," Pauline told her. "That is absolutely brilliant," mother said. "We thought you would be pleased Mrs Johnson," Pauline smiled. "I can't wait to show him off to the girls," mother laughed as she buttoned her coat in readiness to leave. "Have you booked me in with Domonic for tomorrow Barbara?" she asked giving Pauline and Joanna a twenty pound note each to show her appreciation. "Yes, 9.30am your usual time," Barbara confirmed looking at her computor screen, "and Johnathan will be going in the creche I presume." She looked up at mother. "Yes, it will do him good to be with children his own age," mother laughed at the look on my face. I quailed at the thought of spending the day with taunting children and babies. "You WOULD like to spend the day playing with the other little boys and girls Johnathan," she sneered. "Yeth mummy," I lied. They all laughed as mother took my hand and made for the door. I burst into tears again. So there I was, a sixteen year old boy turned into a caricature of simpering little girlhood, destined to spend the rest of my life in the frilliest of clothes under the strict control of my step-mother and her daughters. To be shown off to everyone whilst in skirts, to play with real six year old little boys and girls, to learn how to play their childish games. They were determined to turn me into a little girl, not only in looks, by the time they had finished with me I would act like a little child naturally, it would be second nature for me to actually want to play with dolls and wear the prettiest of clothes, by the time they had finished with me I would truely be a little girl. But first I had to endure being seen by my sisters and my girlfriend Elizabeth. I felt so childlike as mother strapped me in the baby car seat. I needed something to comfort me and wished I had brought one of the big dummies with me. Without any hesitation, I raised my hand and put my thumb into my mouth. Mother laughed as I sucked. "I thought you would have put up more of a fight Johnathan," she said as she drove off, "fancy letting us turn you into a little girl, I bet that is what you wanted all along." Looking down at my pretty frock and my frilly petticoats I wondered the same thing myself. Once home I was led into the house by mother, she took off her coat and hung it in the hall. "Let's go and see your new bedroom Johnathan," she said taking my hand again. We passed the room I usually slept in and continued to what used to be the spare bedroom. The door now had a little sign on it in pink. "Johnathan's Room," it said. Mother opened the door. "Oh how lovely," she said as she led me in. The smell of a freshly decorated room hit my nose as I entered. The woodwork had been painted a pale pink, the walls covered in pretty pink nursery wall-paper, the deep piled carpet a darker shade of pink to complement the rest of the decor. It was unmistakably a girl's room. In the centre of the room stood a large, pink wooden cot, under the window, which had pink curtains with nursery characters printed on the fabric, stood a large rocking horse. Dolls and teddy bears sat on every flat surface, the window sill, the pink vanity table and a big rag doll lay under the covers in the cot. One wall had a mirror fronted wardrobe along it, and I caught my childish reflection as I viewed my new room. Mother slid open one side of the wardrobe door revealing hangers full of puff sleeved dresses in pinks, whites, lemons, and lilacs, petticoats and even little girl overcoats for winter wear. When she examined the other side of the wardrobe I saw shelves of frilly knickers, frilly ankle socks, girls vests, and on the floor a dozen pair of shoes, all with buckles and all very girlish. "Do you like your new room Johnathan?" she asked picking up the rag doll from the cot. "Yeth mummy it ith woverwy," I simpered. "This is Jemima, say hello to your dolly," mother handed it to me. I held it out. "Hewwo Jemima," I gulped feeling such a fool talking to a doll. "She is your favourite dolly Johnathan, woe betide you if I see you without her," mother warned. I tucked the doll under my arm. "Yeth mummy." I felt the familiar need to go to the toilet. "Pweath mummy I need a wee-wee," I said grabbing my frilly crotch. She placed a large potty from under the cot on the floor, pulled down my knickers and allowed me to releave myself. "You are going to need constant attention," she remarked, "I'll have to think about getting you a nanny." She wiped me with a baby-wipe, pulled up my panties and led me to the rocking horse. "This is Mr Neddy, your favourite toy," she told me, "give him a stroke and say hello." "Hewwo Mithter Neddy," I lisped stroking its false mane as if it was a real horse. "How sweet," mother laughed, "why don't you go for a ride on Mr. Neddy while I get the tea ready." She helped me on to the wooden saddle. My feet did not touch the floor, there were no stirrups to help me take my weight of my groin. I gasped as my trapped privates were crushed, it felt as though someone had kicked me in between the legs. I dropped Jemima, she slapped my bare leg. "Poor Jemima," she said giving her back to me ensuring that I couldn't take the weight off my groin with my hand while holding the doll. She made me hold the rocking-horse reins with my other hand then pushed me forward so the rocking horse moved to and fro. "You stay there until your big sisters get home or else Johnathan," she snapped. "Yeth mummy," I squeaked. She turned and left me alone. Through the window I could see the yellow school bus pull up outside our drive, Lesley and Caroline alighted waving to their friends as the bus drove off, they then sprinted down the drive. The front door flew open and I could hear their excited chatter as they entered the house. "Mother we're home," shouted Lesley, "where is Johnathan?" "Upstairs, in his nursery," mother shouted back. I heared their feet running up the stairs. Along the landing, they burst into the room. I did not think two people could make so much noise as they stood there howling at me. I steeled myself from bursting into tears in front of them. "How absolutely adorable," Lesley laughed as she dragged me from the rocking horse, "you are a perfect little girl." "You are so pretty Johnathan, I'm almost jealous," Caroline joined in, "and those clothes really suit you." "Are you wearing lipstick, little girl?" Lesley asked, curiously examining my bright red lips. I felt my bottom lip trembling and the need to go to the toilet once again overwhelmed me. "I need a wee-wee," I cried bursting into tears. The room rang with their laughter once again as they heared my squeaky voice. "He is a girl," Caroline sang as she danced around the room. "Pweath mith I need my potty," I wailed, pointing to it under the cot. Lesly put it down and I shivered as she pulled my frillies down. "He's had an operation," she gasped, but after touching me she realised my vagina was false. I quickly sat on the potty and relieved myself. "I've finithed mith Weswey," I sobbed. She dried me and pulled up my knickers. I was taken to her bedroom and made to recite nursery rhymes while she took off her school uniform. "My turn," Caroline laughed dragging me into her room once Lesley was ready. I was their toy, a real live little girl doll for them to laugh at. I was half way through Twinkle Twinkle Little Star when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Lesley shouted, dashing from her room, "it's Elizabeth." I felt sick. Carolines bedroom door was open, I heared Lesley open the front door. "Hi Lesley, I've come for tea," Elizabeth's voice said, "is John in?" Caroline was falling about laughing in her room, tears streaming down her face as she saw my sickly look. "Hello Elizabeth, come in," Lesley said, "Johnathan's upstairs with Caroline, you go through to the sitting room, I'll tell him your here." "Thanks," Elizabeth said. "Johnathan," Lesley shouted up the stairs, "Elizabeth is here." "Come on Johnathan." Caroline had recovered from her fit of hysterics. "Let's go and show your girlfriend what a big sissy you are." I could hardly walk, my legs turning to jelly again. I was that nervous, I started to pull back. "Oh no you don't," Caroline laughed and pushed me into the room. Elizabeth was sat on the sofa talking to mother as I stumbled in, Caroline's hand in my back ensuring there was no escape from this latest humiliation. Elizabeth looked up, her jaw dropped open. "John, Johnathan, is that really you?" she said in disbelief. My face absolutely burned with embarresment. "Elithabeth, wook what they've done to me." I burst into tears. Elizabeth stood up, looked at me again as if she still couldn't believe the crying, prettily dressed creature before her was actually me. "They did it," I bawled, "they made me into a wittle girl." She looked at mother, then at my sisters. At last I had found an ally, surely she would report them for what they had done to me and would help me to find a way to return to being a boy. I waited for her to turn on mother, I sobbed, hugging Jemima to my breast. "Well," she said at last looking directly at mother, "I am so annoyed." I knew she would be angry, now my hated family were for it. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to do this to him." She turned and looked into my tearful eyes. "I would have given you some of my old dolls, there was no need to buy new ones." She burst into laughter. Mother, Lesley and Caroline joined her as they all looked at me. "Oh Johnathan you do make an absolutely adorable little girl," Elizabeth laughed. I was devastated. She had been my only hope of salvation, now she was abandoning me to my life as a little girl. Worse than that she was encouraging them, telling mother she should take me into school to collect my certificates next week. A surge of absolute humiliation ran through me as I finally realised I was trapped in little girl's clothes for the rest of my life, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. I burst into tears again, my thumb found its way back in my mouth and I had that feeling I was going to wet myself again. "I need a wee-wee," I cried, "I want my potty." My childish status was confirmed as I stood there crying for my potty, sucking my thumb in front of these laughing women. Caroline put my potty on the floor and Elizabeth insisted on putting me on it, her amusement knew no bounds when she saw my latex pussy. Mother left to set the table, Elizabeth wiped me, pulled my frillies up then sat me on her knee. "What a sweet little girl you are Johnathan," she whispered into my ear as she stroked my smooth hairless legs. I was still sucking my thumb and holding Jemima, feeling very vunerable. I recalled the times Elizabeth had been in exactly the same position on my knee. I had stroked her long legs in the same fashion, ignoring her protests, my hand would fondle her sex under her dress. She looked into my eyes, revenge written all over her face, as her hand played with the frills around my knicker legs. "How old is my sweet little girl?" she giggled her finger under the elasicated leg. "Thix," I sobbed. "Are you sure Johnathan, you look much younger than that to me," she sneered her hand rubbing my female sex, her finger exploring the crevasse. I shuddered. Her finger was in the rubber hole now and pushing against my trapped penis. "Is that my little girls clitorus," she laughed poking her sharp finger-nail into me, "you have to protect this Johnathan, because nasty boys try to put their fingers where they shouldn't." I squealed in agony as she dug her nail in really hard. "Do you know why I came to tea Johnathan?" She watched my face screw up in agony. I shook my head. "To tell you that I had had enough of your pathetic attempts to have sex with me." She held me tightly as I writhed on her knee. "I was going to tell you that I did not want to see you any more, but now you're in skirts, wild horses wouldn't keep me away." "Pweath