Smokey And The Bandit - Part 1 free porn video

This is a work of adult fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, or events is purely coincidental. Readers who have reached the legal age of consent in their jurisdictions are welcome. This story may NOT be reproduced or posted anywhere without the express written permission of the author. SYNOPSIS: "What we're dealing with here is a complete lack of respect for the law." (Sheriff Buford T. Justice, with thanks to Hal Needham and his film.) A youthful outlaw...a Bandit...is graphically shown the error of his thieving ways and ultimately learns the importance and immeasurable pleasure to be found in true, albeit, forced, repentance. A love story. simonnedanielle1204@... "Smokey and the Bandit" - Part 1 By: Simonne Danielle © 2007 All rights reserved "Timmy! Get your lazy butt in here this instant!" 'For crissakes!' I thought, 'What the hell does she want from me now?' I thought as I lumbered up the short flight of steps which led to the entry- way of my house. It had been another rotten day at work. Work! Ha! What a joke! Another crappy summer job which was hardly worth getting out of bed for! Flipping burgers, drowning fries in gallons of grease, chopping lettuce, tomatoes, and onions 'til I smelled like a walking Whopper was not what I had in mind when it came to enjoying my summer vacation. In any event, I'd finally had enough and told the pimply-faced assistant manager what he could do with his burgers. It was the second miserable job I had quit in the two weeks since school let out. "I said...get your lazy butt in here...and I mean...right now!" The nagging and demanding voice was Smokey's. She's the au pair my mother had hired for a year to keep house, manage our finances, and generally provide supervision over me while my dear mother traveled extensively in the course of her job. Smokey's real name is Inga Uliana Dubrovnic. Smokey is a lot easier to pronounce! Born in Russia and raised in the U.S., she's a nineteen year old college student hired to do whatever mother required of her in exchange for room and board and a generous weekly stipend. She wasn't hired to baby-sit me. Merely supervise and keep track of my activities. Make sure I kept out of trouble. Don't get me wrong. Smokey is a smokin' hot babe! Her nickname suits her. On her five-foot five-inch frame sits two of the most luscious C-cup tits every sixteen year old guy dreams about! Her perfectly shaped legs and bowling-ball ass are always on display, wrapped in one of her skin-tight skirts or short dresses. Her softly curled golden mane either falls to below her shoulders or is piled high in the sexiest French twist. I've never seen her without full make-up, meticulously manicured nails, or smelling like a walking ad for the sexy perfume she wore to tantalize and seduce. Not that I haven't tried! More than once she'd busted me for 'accidentally' barging into the bathroom after she'd showered or sneaking peeks into her bedroom when she'd left her door ajar. In my mother's absence she had complete authority to make any decision she felt necessary. And, from day one, she didn't hesitate to exercise that authority. Her Russian heritage made her bossy, demanding, intimidating, and generally a severe pain in my butt! At sixteen, I wasn't the least bit inclined to even acknowledge her existence let alone be subjected to her authoritarian whims. The only thing which kept me 'in-line' was mother's threat to cut me off if I didn't measure up. Mother is a high-powered corporate executive whose job took her all over the world, often for months at a time. She had divorced when I was only five years old. She worked her way up the corporate ladder and two years ago had been promoted to executive VP in charge of the conglomerate's pharmaceutical division. Smokey was the second au pair she had hired in those two years. I didn't relish the thought of facing Smokey and telling her I had quit yet another miserable job. I knew she'd snitch on me during the weekly phone call my mother graciously found the time to make. Mother wouldn't be happy! Not in the least! She wanted me kept busy. Hoping against hope that a job, any job, would keep me out of the endless trouble which always managed to come my way...through no fault of my own, I might add! She thought the world of Smokey and was fully confident in her ability to keep me under her thumb. In fact, it was Smokey who had managed to secure the two jobs I had quit in the past two weeks. The first one was lugging flats of cut flowers for her eighteen year old lesbian friend, Elsa, who managed a small flower shop. She wasn't happy when I quit without notice after feigning a sore back. I ripped off a couple of bucks from the register without Elsa knowing. Boy, was she dumb! The next day Smokey marched me into the burger joint. Eighteen year old Gina, another of her lezzy girlfriends, managed the place and had gone out of her way to give me the job ahead of other applicants. Smokey's warning that I better hang on to this job, "Or Else!" sounded like she meant it. It didn?t last long, though. Here I was...jobless...again! "I already got a call from Gina." She growled. "She told me you up and quit! Can't you finish anything you start? Don't even bother trying to explain! I don't want to hear it! You are such a LITTLE wimp! " I was hoping Gina hadn't discovered the missing five hundred bucks I decided was rightfully mine. After all, I had put up with all that nasty grease for the past few days! Smokey was right about the 'little' reference, though. I suppose all my stealing, not to mention my overtly hostile attitude towards teachers and students in particular, and women in general, was directly related to my small physical stature. The truth is I'm only five foot-four and barely a hundred ten pounds. The dumb lady counselor at school once said I had a Napoleon Complex. "Mrs. Burns, your son's criminal behavior and uncontrolled hostility is simply his way of compensating for being so petite. It also explains his pitiful attempts to impress others and prove he's a 'big man'. It's classic behavior which is symptomatic of an out of control inferiority complex. He's never really had to face any consequences for his actions. It'll probably take some sort of drastic action on your part to modify his personality. Otherwise he'll wind up in prison...or worse!" In my mind I was a Bandit...a Bandit in the finest tradition of Robin Hood of Sherwood Forrest fame...stealing from the rich and giving to the poor...ME! That was when my mother hired the first au pair. A fat, ugly, wimpy chic who couldn't get out of her own way. I was pretty much out of control while she lived with us. I broke into just about every house in the neighborhood, took whatever I could get my hands on, and sold it to a local fence. I stole from my mother and from her au pair. Mother, out of desperation, dragged me into the police station where she forced me to confess my miscreant deeds. I was truly scared out of my wits for the first time in my life when I faced the lady Judge in juvenile court. When she ordered me to spend 30 days in Juvenile Hall I fainted dead away. My 'big man' bravado didn't do me much good in the slammer. In less than twenty-four hours, under threat of being beaten to within an inch of my life or carved into pieces with the home-made shivs the inmates wielded, I became 'Bubba's' steady 'girlfriend'. The things I had to do to keep on 'Bubba's' good side are almost too embarrassing to talk about! Suffice it to say that within an hour of settling into the twenty-bed dormitory, 'Bubba' had his nine-inch long, three-inch fat, horny bone buried deep in my virgin throat! Ten other ne'er-do-well delinquents took their turns as well...in my mouth and in my ass! Five more, obviously swishy fags, took my cock in their mouths and drained every last drop of cum from my balls! Over the ensuing thirty days I was sadistically passed from pillar to post. The professional staff, or 'screws' as they were affectionately called, were no better. I was forced to service them...men and women alike...at all times of the day and night! In short order I was well- trained in the ageless art of cocksucking and pussy-lapping! When I was released Warden Jane de la Crosche lewdly suggested I'd be back in no time, "Doing life in prison on the installment plan!" She intoned. There's the ever-present threat of going back if I violate my probation...which runs for another two years! When I came home from juvie I learned my mother had hired Smokey. We didn't get along from the get-go. Every time I opened my yap she threatened to report me to the probation officer. When I quit the job at the flower shop she almost carried out her threat. Instead, she got me the job at the burger joint which Gina managed. Now, here I was, suddenly facing the definite prospect of going back to Juvenile Hall. I hadn't even considered that possibility when I quit work! The telephone sat menacingly on the coffee table. It was within easy reach as she sat imperiously on the sofa. All Smokey had to do was dial the number and I'd be sleeping with "Bubba', or his cousin, tonight! "Don't bother sitting down!" She growled. "Stand right here in front of me." She started to reach for the phone. "Hey! That stupid Judge didn't say I had to keep a job. I didn't do nothin' wrong! Go ahead and call my P.O.!" I gave her my most menacing sneer. "You're absolutely right, Tiny Tim." She said in her hateful and condescending tone of voice. My loving mother had told Smokey everything the counselor had said. She uses every opportunity to remind me of my small frame and my officially diagnosed 'inferiority complex'. Calling me Tiny Tim to get under my skin was just another way to tout her authority over me. "You don't have to have a job to keep the Judge happy. Now, on the other hand, when I tell her you stole money from Elsa at the flower shop and from Gina at the burger stand today..." Her voice trailed off for effect. "What do you think will happen when your probation officer and Madam Judge learn about that?" "What're you talkin' about? I didn't steal any money! You can't prove nothin'! You're nuts!" "Oh my! Teeny, Tiny Timmy, how you underestimate me! In fact, you have this irritating habit of underestimating everyone, especially women! You've underestimated your mother. You obviously underestimated all the neighbors whose homes you broke into. You've underestimated the two women, my dearest friends, who gave you work. You underestimated the police and the court. And now, true to form, you're seriously underestimating me! Do you honestly think I'd waste my time having this conversation if I didn't have proof?" "What proof? What the hell are you talking about?" I turned, intending to head out to meet up with some of my buddies. She gave me one of those heavy, exasperated sighs which exuded confidence and picked up the phone. She was daring me to butt heads with her. I stopped dead in my tracks. "They say 'a picture is worth a thousand words', Tiny Tim. I suggest you watch the television screen...and watch very closely!" Like a saleswoman beginning a dramatic presentation she pointed the remote control at our home theater's fifty-inch screen. It flashed to life instantly. The scene was unmistakable. The front of the flower shop. "Big deal!" I sneered. "The flower shop. So what?" "Shut your mouth, wimp! One more word and I'll dial this phone!" The next image was just a bit more disturbing. There was no denying that the boy stuffing bills into his pocket...bills he had just surreptitiously removed from the cash drawer...was me! There was no doubt that the furtive glances around the shop before I walked out was further proof that I was stealing the cash. The date and time stamp in the corner of the screen showed it was my last day at work. And all of it shown in vibrant living color! "Hey! I had that money coming. I worked for it!" "Really? Is that why you cashed your final paycheck on top of stealing? I don't think anyone who sees this will come to any other conclusion! Face it, you've been caught red-handed!" She paused to let her point sink in. "Elsa's on her way over as we speak! Ready, and more than willing, to press charges! Gina's on her way too! She has a very interesting security video taken just today...just before you quit. Care to guess what's on it?" She was smiling victoriously. She knew I had no defense. I knew I was on my way back to 'Bubba'. "Elsa and Gina wanted to be here when the police arrive. You know, theft reports to sign and all the other necessary paperwork. But the real reason they want to be here, I think, is so they can see you hauled off in shackles!" She laughed sadistically at the thought. "While we're waiting I think you'll enjoy another bit of video. I arranged for it personally and I'm really quite pleased the way it turned out." She said mysteriously. "Take out Elsa's tape and put this one in!" She handed me an unlabeled tape. I opened the flap on the cassette and ripped out as much of the magnetic tape as I could and tore it to sheds. "Tut, tut!" She muttered. "Such a temper! No matter, I have another copy! In fact I have several copies! Try this one!" She handed me another copy and picked up the phone for emphasis. I was shaking uncontrollably and beginning to snivel. With trance-like motions, I did as she demanded. I stepped back as she activated the tape. I couldn't imagine what was on this tape. I hadn't stolen anything else! The screen flashed to life. "What the f***!' I thought. The scene was Smokey's bedroom. "This is my favorite, Timmy. It's just sooo cute! I can't wait to show it to the girls...Oh, and your P.O. and the Judge!" Her tone was gleeful and sent a veiled message that I'd soon be out of her hair. My mind was in a whir. 'What does this have to do with anything?' I thought. I was totally confused. I continued to stare blankly at the screen which showed about fifteen seconds of nothing but her empty bedroom. Then there was movement. The bedroom door opened. Yours Truly was entering. My heart began beating rapidly. I saw myself walking confidently to her dresser. I opened the jewelry box on top and took out a diamond and emerald cocktail ring. This was no simple nanny-cam. There had to be at least four cameras, each set to show the room from several optimum angles. The tape had been expertly edited and was playing like a first-rate Hollywood suspense thriller! Smokey interrupted my thoughts and paused the tape. "I thought for sure you were gonna stuff my ring in your pocket. Can you imagine my surprise when I saw what you did next?" She resumed the tape which clearly showed me slipping her ring on my right ring finger. I held out my hand, my fingers pointing toward the ceiling, and admired how the stones glinted in the sunlight. Although I had no recollection of trying on her ring, the video wasn't lying! "It gets better, Tiny Tim. I love this next part!" She said gleefully. I still didn't see the significance of all this...until... The video continued to roll on. I opened the top drawer. The camera angle from above showed that the drawer was crammed with silky, lacey items...her most intimate undies. It also showed my face which had an unmistakably mesmerized gaze. I reached into the drawer and lifted out a pair of jet-black satin panties. As I held them up, gingerly holding them by the lace-trimmed waistband, the light danced off them like it danced off her diamond and emerald cocktail ring. My face was burning from embarrassment! Memories of that thirty-day stay at juvie flooded my mind! Memories of being forced to parade around the dormitory wearing nothing but women's panties! Panties which the female 'screws' had generously donated to the cause! I suddenly remembered what I had done next...and what I had done in Smokey's bedroom almost every day since I had been released from juvie! The tape rolled on relentlessly. I was powerless to stop it and turned to run rather than be forced to re- live what I had done! "Stay right where you are, pervert!" Smokey was holding the phone in her hand. Her implied threat was loud and clear! I tried to cover my eyes, hoping that doing so would stop the tape. But she ordered me to keep my hands at my sides and continue watching. The image of me pressing Smokey's most intimate and dainty underwear firmly against my face is still indelibly imprinted in my mind! There was no arguing that I was inhaling deeply; inhaling the scent of the perfumed sachets scattered among her lingerie and the musky scent of her womanly parts which had been left lingering in the crotch! As I watched, the memory of that scent assaulted my senses! The memory of what I had been forced to do at juvie flashed before my eyes! I had been forcibly trained to sniff and lick the musky and stained crotches of the panties of every female employee at juvie...most notably Warden Jane de la Crosche! Smokey's panties, and other intimate lingerie, was a magnet...drawing me in like a bee to honey...seducing me! I had become addicted at juvie. Finding her dresser filled to the brim with sweet-smelling, sexy dainties was better than finding the 'Pot O' Gold' at the end of a rainbow! "Pervert! Panty-sniffing pervert!" Smokey muttered softly...almost to herself. The tape rolled on. I held up a succession of her panties. Admiring each pair's color, texture, lacey details, and, especially 'sampling' the scent of each. I held one pair, a particularly delicate pair of 'boxer' style panties, against my waist and turned towards Smokey's full-length mirror. The panties were long enough to completely conceal the running shorts I was wearing. I looked like I was wearing them! The enthralled, almost hypnotic look, on my face was unquestionably a look of pure guilty pleasure. I turned first one way, then the other, obviously admiring the illusion which the panty, held over my own shorts, was creating. When I lifted them away to return them to the drawer the protrusion lewdly tenting out my running shorts was a dead giveaway that I had become highly aroused! Just as aroused as I inevitably became while prancing and mincing at juvie. The silence in the room was palatable. I didn't dare look at Smokey. I was far too embarrassed and humiliated! I simply continued to stare at the home theater screen and prayed the floor would open and swallow me up. The tape rolled on. For the next half hour I remained glued to the spot where I stood and watched the unfolding mountain of evidence which showed me pawing through each and every drawer of Smokey's dresser. Although it never showed me actually trying on anything...I was way too petrified of getting caught to try anything on...I did hold each lacey and silky garment against my body, and my face, as I stood before her full-length mirror and assessed how it would look on me ...and how it smelled! Panties, camisoles, half-slips, full slips, bras, bustiers...even garter belts. It was almost comical as I watched myself attempting to figure out how the garter tabs might attach to a pair of nylon stockings. When the tape showed me walking into her closet I almost fainted. Another camera had been installed inside the large walk-in. I held dresses, skirts, even petticoats, against my body. With each garment I held against my body the tent in my shorts seemed to grow larger! The cameras were so finely tuned that they actually showed the wetness spreading across the front of my shorts! Wearing panties in juvie for the pleasure of the real boys, sucking cocks and giving up my ass, performing perverted porno scenarios with the other swishy faggy boys, and slurping pussy on demand, was a deeply held secret. I'd never snitch for fear of certain death. The staff would never utter a word for fear of being prosecuted for misconduct. The inmates would never blab for fear of being called 'fag'. I hoped Smokey wouldn't figure out that the guilt which was written all over my face was a direct result of my extra-curricular education at juvie. As Smokey's video loomed in front of me, I simply stared at the floor in abject humiliation and disgust with myself as the tape mercifully drew to an end...but not before it vividly showed her cocktail ring glinting on my finger and me pilfering her jet-black satin panties and smugly stuffing them inside the waist of my running shorts as I walked out of the room! Smokey clicked off the video. "Panty-sniffing sissy faggot!" She growled. "Panty-sniffing sissy faggot Baandeet!" She spit out...in the Russian accent which was only used when she was super-pissed off. "Vor!" She spewed...the Russian expletive for thief. I knew her well enough to keep my mouth shut when she was this angry. I finally screwed up the courage to look at her. The phone was held threateningly in one hand. The black panties which the video clearly revealed I had stuffed into my shorts were dangling off her index finger! She was wearing her emerald and diamond cocktail ring on the same finger. "I just knew something was going on the day after you returned from jail! My things...my most intimate things...were in disarray every time I opened my dresser! Installing all these cameras paid bigger dividends than I ever imagined! I've caught you red-handed! Just like Elsa caught you! I have all the proof I need to send you back to prison!" She gloated. I finally lost it! I broke down in tears! "Smokey, p...pl...please don't call my P.O.! I'm begging!" I knew the explanation for my demented actions. I hoped she didn't. I still had no defense! I was dead-meat! I could almost hear 'Bubba' licking his chops! Smokey wasn't about to let me off the hook so easily. "I found these panties where you hid them under your mattress along with my ring. I am sooo gonna enjoy watching you squirm when you're forced to watch these tapes in front of your P.O.! I'm sure she'll have to play it in open court for the Judge...evidence, you know! Actually, as I think about it, having you out of this house and safely in prison will be such a relief! I'm sure the neighbors will be relieved and I know Elsa and Gina will enjoy seeing you severely punished! And your mother! I'm sure she'll be delighted to know just what a sissy-wimp of a son she's raised!" She added, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "No! No! I don't want to go back to jail! Please, Smokey, don't to this to me! I'll do anything! I'll never steal again! I'll pay back the money! I'll never touch your things! Please...I'm begging you!..." I was a quivering, shivering mass of Jello. All my pseudo-macho bravado was gone. Any delusion I might have had of trying to intimidate her into a compromise was gone. "Shut up! Just shut up! I don't want to hear any of your sniveling, wimpy, cry-baby whining! God! You sound like a little girl! A thieving bandit sissy! A panty-stealing perverted sissy!" She was merciless. She began pacing back and forth. "Where are Elsa and Gina? I wish they'd get here! I can't wait to show them just what a sissy you are...a sissy AND a thieving Baandeet!" As if on cue the doorbell chimed. "It's about time!" She exclaimed. My two ex-employers walked into the room with a purpose. They barely acknowledged my presence as they each, in turn, hugged Smokey and exchanged tonguey kisses with her. "Did you show the little squirt my tape?" asked Elsa. "I brought the surveillance tape from this afternoon!" Gina boasted. "I showed him your tape Elsa. And another tape neither of you have seen...yet." Smokey commented in a clinical, almost legal tone. "Oh? Another one showing him stealing?" Inquired Gina. "Yes...and no." Smokey replied. "But one I'm sure you both will find quite amusing!" I just stood there shaking involuntarily. Afraid to utter a peep. "But first, let's show your tape, Gina." Once again I was forced to stand quietly as the evidence of my thievery blazed before my eyes. My life was flashing before me! Incontrovertible, damning proof-positive that would surely send me back to 'Bubba' and his friends! When the five minute tape ended Gina revealed that her audit showed I had stolen five-hundred dollars. Three times more than I had coming. Smokey ordered me to place her tape into the player and stand before them. Elsa, Gina, and Smokey sat close to each other on the sofa. As the video of my perverted performance in Smokey's bedroom unfolded I could hear soft sighs of "Oooh!", "Aaah!", and "Oh my!", in between their merciless giggling. I dared to glance sideways at the three of them huddled on the sofa. Elsa and Gina were holding hands. They seemed entranced at the vision of a teenaged boy unabashedly imagining himself as a girl as he held one garment after another against his body. Even I had to admit that, upon seeing this for the second time, my actions appeared girly...exaggeratedly swishy! Smokey, as I looked at her, was stroking her thigh and wetting her lips! Were these three broads getting turned on? When the tape ended I stood before them...Ashamed, embarrassed, and thoroughly humiliated. The thought crossed my mind that returning to 'Bubba' would be a more merciful punishment. "I found these under the pervert's mattress." She proudly proclaimed, as she held up the jet-black panties I had stolen from her. "And this, as well!" She modeled the stolen ring on her right hand. I felt a stirring in my groin as she dangled the panties off her finger. She rose from the sofa and held them close to my face. "Show us how you sniffed them, sissy! Show us how your pitiful little sissy dick gets all stiff when you sniff my panties. I wore them all day just so you'd be able to smell what a real woman smells like! Go ahead! Sniff! Just like you did when you were alone in my room!" I turned my face away. I didn't want them to see what I knew would come next! Smokey would have none of it. She grabbed me by the chin and turned my face with one hand. With her other she jammed the crotch of her panties against my nose. "I said sniff, sissy panty-boy!" I inhaled, tentatively at first, then, as the pungent scent invaded my nostrils, I inhaled deeply. It was even more intoxicating than it had been in her bedroom! "You hold them! Worship them! Just like before! I'm not here to spoon-feed you!" I took the satiny panty from her hand and pressed it firmly against my face. I stood there sniffing like a dog in heat! I couldn't stop...not if my life depended on it! I had been well trained by the best juvie had to offer! "Go ahead, sissy pervert. Lick them! You know you want to! Lick!" Gina and Elsa were having hysterical fits. I did! I stuck out my tongue and licked the panty's gusset greedily. By the time she ordered me to stop there was no flavor left other than my own spittle. Throughout my forced performance I could hear Elsa's and Gina's derisive chuckling. If that wasn't humiliating enough, when I looked down at my mid-section after Smokey had snatched her panties from my grasp, I was treated to the humiliating sight of my work trousers being tented out by my unmistakable erection! Smokey gleefully, but unnecessarily, pointed out my aroused condition to her girlfriends. Their chuckles turned into peals of malicious laughter coupled with demeaning comments. "The sissy's turned on!" "Ohmigawd! You're right!" "Look at his dick!" "How can sniffing a dirty pair of panties get him so worked up?" "What a perv!" And finally, "If sniffing them gets him off, what would happen if he was wearing them?" Gina had asked that question. Smokey's eyes lit up like a bonfire! Without a moments hesitation she commanded, "You heard her, sissy! Strip! Let's see how your puny, pansy dickie looks wrapped up in my pussy-scented panties!" "Really Smokey! Are you sure you want a pervert, and a sissy-pervert at that, wearing your things?" Elsa asked. "I mean, he'll probably soil them...maybe even ruin them!" "If he does that, I'll make him wear them when I turn him in to his P.O.! I'm sure the inmates at juvie will get a charge out of seeing him strip- searched down to a pretty pair of lace-trimmed satin panties! Don't you agree, panty-boy?" She had no idea just how much of a charge the boys at juvie would get! She looked menacingly at me, directly in the eyes, as she picked up the phone. "Didn't you hear what I said? Strip! NOW!" I didn't hesitate. The more I cooperated, the more time I could buy to try to figure a way to avoid the unspeakable consequences I was certainly facing. I unbuttoned the grease-stained shirt emblazoned with the logo of a cheeseburger dripping with gooey sauce and the caption, "Mom's Char- Broiled Burgers. You Can't Beat Our Meat!" If there ever was poetic irony that logo was it! I slipped out of the equally greasy hounds-tooth slacks and my tennis shoes and socks. I stood before three grinning lesbians in only my Jockey shorts. My embarrassing erection was just as hard as it had been throughout my ordeal. "Oooh! Sissy, don't stop now! It's beginning to get interesting!" Gina cooed. Smokey tapped loudly on the phone. I quickly stepped out of my Jockey's. Smokey, in her patented, ego-crushing, inimitable style, dangled the wretched panties in my face. "Well? What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?" With trembling hands and a freely bobbing cock I took the panties and gingerly stepped into them. As I slithered them up and settled them in place around my loins, the incongruity of the lacey dainty and my raging embarrassment wasn't lost on my three tormentors. "How adorable!" "Turn around! Let me see your ass, sissy!" "Can you believe it? The little perv is trying to poke a hole straight through them!" "Walk back and forth around the room!" "Not like that! Put a little wiggle in your strut!" "God! He's wiggling like a girl!" "He's no girl! Definitely a sissy panty-boy, but certainly not a GIRL!" Smokey chimed in, "He may not be a girl, but he could be! Look at him closely. The sissy has almost no hair on his body! His legs, his chest, and his arms...there's nothing but light peach-fuzz! If he had breasts, he would have the body of any sixteen-year old girl! As it is, he looks like a tall eight-year old! Hold up your arms, wimp!" I raised my arms over my head. Elsa laughed cruelly. "Sweet Jesus! He doesn't even have any hair under his arms! He's either an eight-year old or...maybe he shaves!" "Have you been shaving your body hair, sissy?" Smokey asked accusingly. "Have you?" "N...n...no." I answered meekly. Of the entire ordeal, having them discover that I was, in fact, as smooth-skinned as any girl my age, maybe even smoother, was the most humiliating for me. It had been an enormous source of embarrassment since I discovered that every other boy my age was endowed with a liberal spattering of manly body hair...on their arms, their chests, their legs, under their arms, and, especially, around their privates! I had none...nowhere...nothing to indicate I was past puberty and entering manhood! Some of my friends had assured me my body hair would grow in. Others, not so inclined to kindness, had constantly ridiculed and derided my lack of obvious masculine traits. All in all, another reason for my incorrigible pseudo-macho bravado. "Let's see how the girly-boy looks in stunned silence as Gina pulled her arms through the sleeves of her blouse, reached behind to unclasp her bra, and slipped it off without showing a hint of forbidden flesh. You know, that seemingly impossible but simple way women have of disrobing without really disrobing. She tossed the shiny black satin bra, dripping with lace, to Smokey who twirled it like a pinwheel in my face. "Hold out your arms, girl! This should fit you to a T!" "Please don't make me do this, Smokey! Please...!" I whimpered. "Shut up! Just shut up! I'll tell you when you can speak, girly!" As she slipped the straps up my extended arms Elsa sneered, "Don't insult us by calling him 'girl', Smokey! He's nothing but a simpering pansy-boy! Only a pansy would let himself be humiliated this way rather than take his punishment like a man!" "You're so right-on, Elsa. I wasn't thinking." Smokey replied as she clasped Gina's bra snugly around my narrow chest and adjusted the shoulder straps. "We need something to fill him out." She thought out loud. "What size are you, Gina?" "B-cup." Gina responded, hefting her pert unencumbered titties under her blouse. "Maybe these will do." She added, as she hiked her skirt part way and reached under to remove her panties. "Care to make a donation, Elsa?" She grinned. Elsa reached under her own skirt and removed her panties. "Quit looking up my skirt, sissy! God! He's such a perv, Smokey!" She sneered. They simultaneously tossed both pair to Smokey who wasted no time stuffing the cups of Gina's bra with the still-warm undies. The pungent muskiness of their most intimate parts wafted up from my chest and invaded my nostrils. I got harder...if that was even possible! "Holy crap!" Squealed Elsa. "He looks like he has a ripe pair of boobs! And, check it out! His dick is drooling! Look at the wet spot! Christ, what a sissy!" I didn't have to look down. I could feel the warm wetness spreading against my stomach and dribbling down to saturate my balls. "I told you he'd make a mess out of them! I told you!" Elsa said in her authoritative and all-knowing tone of voice. "No matter." Said Smokey. "The little Baandeet already stole them once. He might as well keep them. I'd never wear them again, anyhow! Anyways, the boys in jail will rip them off the second they see him wearing them! I think I'll turn him in wearing your bra, as well, Gina. That is, if you don't mind." She added with a sadistic giggle. "Why quit with just panties and a stuffed bra? Let's send him back to jail wearing a garter belt and nylons too!" Gina quipped. "Better yet, we could paint his toes...I think a sissy-pink would do nicely...maybe some lipstick, eye shadow...even mascara!" Elsa added sadistically. I was really getting petrified. These girls had every intention of carrying out their plans! If they turned me in looking this way, I'd be dead within minutes of the cell door slamming shut! I had to get out of this! Right then I was thinking I'd do anything to get out the awful fate which they were promising. "If we're gonna go that far, we might as well go all out!" Smokey suggested. She had an evil tone and was bent on revenge. "Let's turn him in all dolled up in a pretty slip, a couple of fluffy petticoats, a full skirt, and a tight sweater. That ought to impress the Judge!" "Don't forget a sexy pair of spiky heels!" Gina giggled. "Oooh! And one of your long blond wigs, too!" Elsa added, fluffing her own hair with panache. "No wig, girls. We want him to look the part...the part of a sissy-boy...a wannabe girl...a sissy who we caught red-handed stealing and playing dress-up!" Smokey wanted to guarantee I was totally and thoroughly humiliated. And after that, probably raped or beaten to within an inch of my life...or worse! She reached for the phone saying, "Time to get this party started!" "Please...Smokey...No! I'll do anything! Don't turn me in! Please, please, please!" I was sobbing hysterically and uncontrollably. I was screeching and squealing just like the sissy-pansy they said I was. At that moment in time I meant every word of what I was saying! I dropped to my knees and clasped my hands in front of my face. I was literally begging for my life! I clutched Smokey's thighs, afraid that if I let go I'd quickly find myself en route to the hoosegow. "You're right! I'm a...s...sis...sissy-boy! I'll be killed in jail! Do anything you want to me...anything but turn me in! Please! I'm begging you!" Smokey turned roughly away from me, wrenching herself free from my weak grip, and caused me to fall flat on my face. I curled up into a fetal position and continued to sob. "Stay right there on the floor, you sniveling, pitiful imitation of a boy! I'll only be a minute." She stalked away. I heard Elsa and Gina get up and follow her out of the room. For the next twenty minutes I could only hear their muffled voices and occasional giggles as I contemplated a very bleak and probably very abbreviated future. "Get up, Tiny Tim, you sissy panty-boy!" I opened my puffy eyes. Through vision-blurring tears I could make out three pairs of legs. As I raised my eyes I saw the three of them hovering over me; Smokey's fists resting threateningly on her hips, Gina's arms folded across her chest, and Elsa with her hands clasped at the front of her skirt. I was stiff from laying on the floor and stiff from being on my feet for the past couple of hours. I rose slowly to my full five-foot four-inch height. I tried to avoid their stern gazes. Even standing before them in panties and a stuffed bra wasn't as humiliating as being subjected to their intimidating gazes. "Look at us! Don't look at the floor. The floor can?t help you! Only the three of us can help you!" "Help me...help me how?" I stammered. "Help you stay out of prison. Help you live your miserable life for at least a little while longer!" Smokey grunted. I noticed she wasn't holding the phone. "I don't understand. How? How can you help me. Aren't you gonna turn me in?" "Let's just say that, for the time being at least, we're willing to offer you an opportunity. An opportunity to keep your sorry ass out of prison and an opportunity to change your miserable existence. If, and I emphasize the word 'IF', we decide to allow you this opportunity, it's gonna cost you...it's gonna cost you dearly!" "B...but, you know I don't have any money! I know...I'll get another job! I'll pay whatever you say! I'll give you everything I earn!" "He's not the brightest bulb in the chandelier, is he?" Elsa finally spoke. "Oh my!" Gina said sarcastically, "He's certainly no Einstein!" "That he's not!" Smokey concurred. "We should do him as a blond! He's definitely dense enough to fit the role!" "Role? What role? What're you talking about?" I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. "We decided," Smokey went on, "after seeing you on tape, pawing through my intimate lingerie and other clothes, and, now, after seeing you in panties and bra, that you're probably more of a sissy-boy than even you could imagine. Any real boy would never allow three tiny girls like us to force him to humiliate himself by wearing a bra and panties! No real boy would prance around in a girl's bedroom admiring himself as he imagined how he would look all girlyed up!" Elsa added derisively, "A real boy would have fought, kicked, and punched before he would allow himself to be pantied! For any real boy, running from the law and hiding out would be preferable to what you've shown yourself to be!" "Not only that," chimed in Gina, "you just admitted you're a sissy-boy! That you'd rather be a sissy-boy for three lesbians than land your sorry ass back in jail!" I just hung my head in shame. I couldn't deny that what they were saying was true! I had admitted as much. "You're a thieving Baandeet, breaking into homes, stealing from your employers, and who knows what else you've done that hasn't caught up with you yet. You've invaded my privacy and caused your mother no end of agony!" Smokey was on a roll. "Your thieving days are over! As of right this minute! You're not gonna get a job! At least not the kind of job you're thinking of! From now on you'll be under the strict control and supervision of the three of us. You'll do what we say...When we say it...And in the manner we dictate!" Elsa pointed at my groin and squealed, "Holy crap! He's getting turned on...again! Look!" Not only was I rock-hard, but I was making big gooey stains in Smokey's satin panties! Just hearing Smokey lay down the law as I stood there helpless was arousing me to the point that I had cum without even touching myself! Memories of juvie and being forced to do exactly what they were implying continued to flood my thoughts. After the giggling subsided Smokey continued, "Just in case you think you can con us or manipulate us into a false sense of complacency...Well, as I said earlier, a picture is worth a thousand words!" She pointed the remote and switched on the home theater. There I was, in all my humiliating glory, sniffing Smokey's panties, licking them, and loudly proclaiming through gut-wrenching sobs, that I was a sissy-boy...as the three of them looked on! The video cameras scattered about the room had been running the whole time! "Furthermore, don't think for one instant, that any of us would hesitate to turn over all our evidence to the Judge; to turn your sorry-ass in and make sure you go to prison until you're twenty-one. That would be five years behind bars...if you manage to survive!" "I'll do whatever you say! I swear!" I squeaked softly. "Good! That's the attitude we want! The sniveling and compliant attitude of a sissy panty-boy!" She went to the adjoining room, returning seconds later. She handed me...oh no!...a garter belt, a pair of nylons, and a pair of high-heeled strappy sandals. "Don't stare at me like that! Put them on! And be quick about! We have lots to do!" I started to protest. Smokey was ready for it. She waived the phone in my face. I placed the nylons and shoes on the sofa and struggled to secure her black satin garter belt around my slim waist. Elsa finally came to my aid and showed me, with mock exasperation, how to clasp the three pair of hooks and eyes in the front and spin it around to its proper position. I had no idea how to put on the wispy nylons. The boys at juvie had no such luxuries. It seemed like they'd float from my fingers if I let them go. "I'll show you this time, but then you're on your own." Elsa was being patronizingly helpful. She scrunched them until they formed a doughnut into which I could slip my bare foot. I shivered as the silky nylon slowly but surely imprisoned my leg, just like these three vicious lesbians were imprisoning me! The silky caress was a sensation unlike anything I had ever felt. "You do the other one, sissy! And god help you if you snag them!" Smokey ordered. I looked up at her. She still held the phone and tapped on it with one long, blood-red fingernail. I quickly managed to form the nylon into a doughnut like Elsa had done. The stretchy nylon slipped over my foot, my calf, and my thigh. I couldn't resist running my hands over the silky material encasing my legs. My cock was testing the limits of my panties. I had no idea how to secure the garter tabs to the nylons. I was shaking uncontrollably as I tried, comically, to secure them. "First of all, sissy-Timmy, your garters go underneath your pretty panties. Every real girl knows that!" She explained contemptuously. Once again, Elsa demonstrated with the first stocking. I slipped the garters under my panties and secured the stocking on my other leg. "Now your heels, sissy-boy!" Smokey was really beginning to enjoy my obvious torment. I looked at the sandals. The mass of straps and buckles was a mystery no boy should ever have to deal with. It took a few minutes to untangle everything but I finally managed to slip a foot into one pink shoe. It fit my size five foot perfectly. I figured out that the lengthy straps had to wrap around my ankle three times before I could secure the golden buckle. As I sat on the sofa I noticed that my right knee was at least four inches higher than my left! Securing my left foot in the other sandal went much quicker. I sat there on the sofa, looking up at my three tormentors. I almost felt a sense of pride for having accomplished the complicated task. "Wipe that smug look off your face, girly-boy! Any real woman knows how to put on a pair of heels! Wait 'til you try walking in them! You better get used to them quickly! They're all you'll be wearing on your feet from now on!" Smokey was in her glory. She had me totally under her control and she was taking full advantage of it! "Get up!" She commanded. "Walk around...model for us!" I made a feeble attempt to stand. I fell clumsily back on the sofa. They started laughing at me. "Some sissy he is!" "Can't even stand up in a pair of heels!" "He's gonna need a lot of practice!" I tried again, then yet again, determined to get to my feet. I finally managed to stand but only after grabbing hold of Gina's arm for balance. I found I could steady myself if I kept my feet spread apart. It was, I quickly found out, an unpardonable sin! "Keep your feet together! A sissy like you has to learn to carry himself in an especially lady-like manner!" Smokey said mockingly. She pointed to her own feet, clad in heels at least five-inches high, as an example. They were snuggled up against one another; a perfect picture of feminine posture. Standing still, with my feet together, was difficult enough. Walking in these tortuous trappings would be impossible. I was helpless to disobey as Smokey imposed her authority once more. "Walk!" I took my first tentative step. I held my arms out like a tight-rope walker, trying to keep my balance. My ankles wobbled! Every muscle in my calves and thighs was stretched to its limit! I felt certain I was gonna fall flat on my face so I held my arms forward to protect my fall! Amazingly, I managed another tiny step...then another...and another. If I thrust my butt out and up I could re-distribute my center of balance. After several trial steps Smokey said, "Enough with the arms! I want one hand on your hip and the other swinging freely along your thigh...like a model! Keep your elbows tucked in close to your waist! And take smaller steps! Toes down first! One foot in front of the other. Walk a tight rope!" Her commanding tone was scaring and intimidating me...and making me even harder! Gina and Elsa were as stunned as I was that I even managed the first few steps. When I finally carried out Smokey's latest instructions they gasped in unison. "She looks like she's been wearing heels al her life! My god!" "Ladies! Please! Don't call him a 'she' yet! He has a long way to go before he earns that title!" Smokey looked at Elsa and Gina. She laughed as she mocked my feeble effort to manage in my skyscraper heels. She began walking circles around me. Each time I stumbled she swatted my butt hard... with the back of her wooden hairbrush! "You two keep him going. There's a few other things I need. I'll be back in a few." She handed over the hairbrush to Gina like she was handing over the keys to the city! She strutted from the room like royalty. Under Elsa's and Gina's strict guidance I walked circles around the room for the next ten minutes. Muscles I had never tested before were screaming for relief! Each time I strayed from the prescribed model-like strut, Gina, then Elsa, swatted my burning butt! After more than twenty severely and accurately applied whacks, I was strutting my stuff in true fashion-model style...a very short fashion model, to be sure...but nevertheless, swishing and swaying like I'd been on the runway for years! Smokey came back carrying a large laundry basket overflowing with her lingerie. She also carried several blouses, a dozen skirts, and six dresses on hangars. With a flair she plopped the basket on the floor. "How's our sissy doing, girls?" "Actually, he's looking much better...much more confident, if you ask me." Elsa replied. "I think he's definitely got the knack of it." Gina concurred. "How sweet! Another hurdle crossed. Now, sissy, go to the laundry room and fetch the ironing board and iron. You're about to start earning your keep. Oh, and by the way, perhaps keep yourself out of prison!" With that not so cryptic threat planted in my mind I minced from the room to fetch the requested tools of what I surmised was going to be my new trade. I couldn't carry both the ironing board and the iron at the same time...not in the four-inch heels! I had to make two trips. The gales of laughter from my tormentors were beyond sadistic. I set up the board and plugged in the iron. I had never ironed anything in my life. I looked at Smokey waiting for her next directive. "Turn it on to the lowest setting. Start with the delicate fabrics first and increase the heat as you iron your way through the heavier items. The last ones will require steam. I want them ironed perfectly...no wrinkles...not one! If I find any wrinkles, you'll start from scratch! If one thing isn't folded properly, you'll start from scratch! After ironing and folding each item you're to take it upstairs to my room and place it in its proper drawer...one at a time...then return to iron the next item! Any questions, sissy-boy?" I had none. I didn't dare ask anything. Looking at the overflowing basket, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure I'd be at this laborious task for a long, long time. The entire time embarrassingly clad in high heels, garter belt, stockings, panties, and a bra stuffed with musky panties! Smokey could read my thoughts. "I don't care if you're at this all night and all day tomorrow! While you're working keep in mind that you're doing work normally performed by a servant...in your case...a sissy servant! Of course, anytime you feel like quitting...you know...like you've quit two jobs in two weeks!...feel free to do so. I'll be more than happy to make a phone call!" I stood there, wobbling in my heels, my legs beginning to burn from the pain, and simply stared at the floor. Gina and Elsa were beside themselves with sadistic glee. "I'll go home and get my ironing, too!" Exclaimed Elsa. "It's been piling up for two weeks!" "Me too!" Offered Gina. "No need for that, girls. We can share him; rotate him daily from house to house. He'll be our very own personal servant...doing anything and everything we demand." "I like the 'personal' part best." suggested Gina. "But 'personal servant' seems way too impersonal, and a little too androgynous. I think 'personal MAID' would better describe him as the sissy he is! I've always dreamed of having my very own personal French maid!" Her suggestion struck a nerve with Smokey and Elsa. "What an absolutely delightful idea! Our House Maid by day and our Very Personal French Maid by night!" proclaimed Smokey. Elsa clapped her hands with joy. My immediate future was sealed. Of course, I always had the option to return to 'Bubba'! Smokey had filled the laundry basket with her entire lingerie collection! I bent over to pick up the first of at least a hundred garments. A delicate, lace-laden, pair of white satin bikini panties. I placed them on the padded board. I had no idea where to begin! "For openers, Maid Tiny Timmy" Smokey chastised, as she grabbed the panties and threw them back in the pile, "a proper sissy never bends at the waist! Bend at your knees and keep your back straight...feet and knees together! What if you were wearing a skirt! Bending at the waist in the unfeminine manner you just did would surely expose your undies! And, for heaven's sake, smile! A sissy like you should always have a cheerful and cooperative attitude! A bright, happy smile is a sign that you're content and know your proper role!" Elsa and Gina clapped their hands in delight. I pasted a smile across my face that would light up a dark and dreary day. I slowly lowered myself to the laundry basket in the required manner. I almost toppled over but managed to hold on to the wicker basket and regain my tenuous balance. I took a deep breath and used every ounce of strength to raise myself from the unaccustomed squat. The satiny panties slipped from my grasp and landed on the floor. I gasped in frustration. The girls were howling at my plight. I squatted again and picked them up. As tormented as I was I still managed to smile brightly as I placed them back on the ironing board. "Not a bad effort! But not good enough, I'm afraid!" cooed Gina. "I'm sooo sorry, sissy, but you grimaced when you lost your balance! Try again! And, this time, smile, smile, smile!" She said in a sarcastic, sing-song voice. She dropped the panties back into the basket and I repeated the exercise...this time flawlessly. I was beginning to perspire! Elsa began coaching me in the acceptable method for ironing delicate lingerie. She made a point of insisting that the crotch be perfectly smooth and wrinkle- free! "When we allow you to hand wash all our delicates, I'll teach you how to properly scrub away any nasty stains from the gusset. It'll be so much fun! Of course, being such a sissy, you'd probably prefer to lick them off!" That remark got satisfied giggles from Smokey and Gina. The precise manner in which they wanted the dainty panty folded would have challenged the imagination of the good folks in the Far East who create the insanely intricate packaging for their products. You know the type...packaging which can never be re-assembled once the product has been unpackaged! Aarrgghh! Smokey demonstrated by first laying her panties flat on the ironing board. The crotch was to be folded up towards the waist, forming a perfect rectangle. Finally, the panty was to be folded in thirds. They were to be arranged in her drawer according to color; light colors in front, darker colors in the rear! "Now take that pretty panty and place it in my dresser!" Smokey instructed. "I'm sure you know which drawer it goes in! You've been there so many times before!" I picked up the garment...very gingerly. The last thing I wanted was for it to unfold. "Not like that! God! You're such a klutz!" exclaimed Smokey. She took the neatly folded panty from my grasp. "Hold out your hand...palm up!" She placed her panty on top of my outstretched palm. "Carry it as if you were carrying a serving tray with a full glass of wine." I crooked my right elbow into my waist. With my palm upright the silken white panty did look like it was delicately balanced on a serving tray. "Right! Now your left hand on your hip! Good! I like that smile but a touch of lipstick would really make it pop! Upstairs with you! Place them where they belong and return to your ironing. We're not gonna be here to hold your hand all day!" To a chorus of giggles and outright laughter I headed for the staircase. "Sway those hips!" "Swish that cute little butt, sissy!" "Tiny, mincing steps!" "At least try to look like the sissy you are!" All three were mocking my feeble attempts. I tried my best! I really did! I knew the fate which awaited me if I failed. Climbing the thirteen steps was nothing short of sheer torture! With my prize panty held high atop one hand and my other hand on my hip, I had no hand free to hold the banister. How I managed to keep a bright and happy smile on my face is a mystery. I could feel their eyes boring holes in my ass as I climbed the staircase. I got to the top and minced my way to Smokey's bedroom. I gingerly placed her panty inside the top drawer...the drawer I had stolen from earlier. With one hand on my hip and the other swinging freely against my thigh I minced back to my tormentors. The smile on my face was legitimate! I felt a sense of pride and accomplishment for the first time since leaving juvie! "I do believe the little sissy understands the routine!" exclaimed Smokey. "Back to your ironing, panty-perv. We have grown-up things to do while you're busy doing what sissies like you do best! Oh! And just in case you're having any thoughts of falling out of character in our absence I'll leave the TV on! You can watch yourself on the screen. We'll review the video later. If that smile disappears or if you don't look like the quintessential sissy...well, at the very least you'll start your ironing from the beginning! At the worst, well...let's not even think about the worst! Don't just stand there!" She clapped her hands smartly. "Get to work!" The three of them left me to my work. Howls of laughter were ringing in my ears. The sight of my image on the TV monitor...black satin panties, black satin garter belt attached to black nylon hose, and my lacey black panty- padded bra...was disturbing enough. Even more disturbing was the rigid pole trying to poke a hole in my panties. I was as hard as a eight-inch section of construction re-bar! My feet and legs were killing me! I looked at the shimmering mountain of silk, satin, and lace in the basket. It was a daunting task. My very freedom depended on whether I could complete the task to perfection! I squatted to retrieve another pair of panties in the feminine manner Smokey had dictated. This time a silky soft pair of boxer style panties. French tap panties I recalled Smokey calling them. They were a deep shade of red and trimmed with a two-inch band of black lace at the legs. I placed them over the pointed tip of the ironing board and commenced. To my surprise it went far more smoothly than I would have thought possible. I had them perfectly ironed and folded in less than five minutes. Once again, my smile was a smile of real pride! I held the folded garment in the prescribed manner and minced my way back to Smokey's bedroom. Imagine my surprise when I passed by my own bedroom and heard peals of laughter coming from behind the closed door. 'What in the world are they up to now?' I worried. With a smile pasted across my face I continued on with my chore. I dared not ask any questions. One silky, satiny, lacey item at a time. I began to make a dent in the mountainous pile. The required smile never left my face despite the burning pain in my legs, and now my neck, my back, and my butt! After two hours and more than thirty trips up and down the stairs I was almost half- way through the laundry basket. I still had the rest of the basket plus the other items on hangars! With each completed round trip to Smokey's bedroom my erection seemed to get larger...well, at least it didn't get any smaller! Smokey and the girls returned briefly to check on my progress, I assumed. She even re-ran the video on fast forward to satisfy herself that my sissy deportment and smile hadn't waned. "You have such a lovely smile, sissy- boy. Let's brighten it a bit. Elsa, why don't you do the honors." Smokey suggested. Elsa approached me brandishing a tube of fire-engine red lipstick and a pencil which she referred to as lip-liner. "I'll show you how to apply it this one time! Then you'll have to do it yourself." She faced me towards a wall mirror and expertly lined my lips with the deep red pencil. She then filled in by applying the fire-engine red lipstick with a soft mink- bristle brush. I looked at the perfect cupid-bow which now graced my lips in stunned amazement. 'How can a little lip color make such a difference?' I wondered. Gina handed me a box of tissues and said, "Wipe it off and re-apply it yourself! It had better look sissy-sexy or you'll have to start your ironing from scratch!" I wiped and rubbed as hard as I could. There was still a definite outline of color left on my lips! I couldn't get it all off! "Oh my! It seems we used the indelible lipstick! How silly of us!" Smokey teased. "No matter. You'll be wearing lipstick from now on anyway!" With trembling hands I took the lip liner from Elsa and ran it over the line she had created. I loaded the lip brush with the fire-engine red lipstick and filled in between the lines. When I had finished I smiled brightly first at my three captors then at my image in the mirror. I was proud of my now, very kissable, mouth! They actually applauded and giggled gleefully. "An excellent first effort." "You are such a perfect sissy!" "Perfect cocksucker lips, if you ask me!" "As an added chore and to insure you get enough practice, each time you return from my room you are to remove your lipstick and re-apply it! Just as you did this time!" With that many coats of lipstick on my mouth it would be months before it faded off! I was doomed! I was trapped as their silk and satin-clad Sissy House-Maid! Aarrgghh! My task continued well into the night. Iron, mince upstairs, gently lay each dainty in its proper place, mince and sway my way back downstairs, remove my lipstick and apply a fresh coat, resume my ironing! All throughout my tortuous ordeal I could hear my captors' endless giggles! I could hear pounding and other noises which sounded like things being moved about. I couldn't see what they were doing but I could hear them moving around upstairs, leaving the house for varying periods of time and returning, and going from room to room. Each time I passed by my room the door was conveniently closed. Even though they kept their voices to soft whispers I could make out occasional phrases... "Lovely!" "That's sooo perfect!" "I love it!" "I can't wait to see that one!" "Are you sure you want to give that one up?" "Put that camera over there!" I had been at it for nine hours straight! It was midnight when I ironed the last dress. It was the most complicated and difficult of all the garments I had been required to iron; a delicate, swishy, satin-lined chiffon dress with dozens and dozens of narrow pencil pleats on the skirt and bodice. It took me almost an hour to iron it! I was exhausted, hungry beyond belief, and in extreme pain! The girls had long ago finished whatever they had been up to. They'd eaten a sumptuous meal in front of me and now sat on the sofa, sipping the last of five bottles of Pinot Noir. They were tipsy and enjoying every minute of my ordeal. Their intoxication only served to spur them on! They ridiculed, demeaned, and teased me mercilessly! "Sissy Maid!" "Panty-Boy!" "Panty Perv!" "Cocksucker Lips!" "Faggot Slut!" "Sneaky Panty Sniffer!" "Thieving Panty Perv!" These were only a few of the malicious terms they used! In between bouts of hugging, kissing, and wantonly groping each other, they took the time to touch me, pinch my butt, grope my cock and balls, pinch my padded-out chest, and generally insure that I was kept in a constant state of arousal! I moaned loudly with pleasure and groaned in pain. My constant groaning made Smokey very unhappy! Just to put an exclamation point on her absolute domination over me and to the delight of Gina and Elsa, she wrenched my panties to my knees and forced me to lay across her lap. With my cock trapped securely between her nylon-clad thighs, she proceeded to lay on twenty of her best with that ever-present hairbrush of hers! My ass was on fire! She smacked my hands each time I tried to soothe it! Each time my panties became soggy from my constantly leaking cock they forced me to lick them clean before exchanging them for a fresh pair. I had used practically the entire tube of lipstick. The lip liner pencil was a mere nub of its former self. As I minced downstairs after hanging up the last dress in Smokey's closet, they ordered me to wash the dinner dishes and clean the kitchen. Even though there were plenty of scraps left over and as hungry as I was, I was afraid to eat anything for fear of angering them. After cleaning the kitchen they ordered me to hand-wash all the panties I had soiled with my sticky gizz. I returned to the living room to find them reviewing the video of the past nine hours. Watching me ironing, mincing, and swishing my heart out, and preening in front of the mirror as I applied coat after coat of lipstick, had them worked up into a sexually charged frenzy. Smokey's hand was firmly implanted inside Elsa's crotch. Elsa was tonguing Gina while Smokey was nibbling on Gina's nipples. "Ahem!" I softly cleared my throat to announce my presence and get their attention. "I'm finished, Smokey. Can I please have something to eat and go to bed?" I barely whispered. I had one hand on my hip and the other dangling loosely at my side. My feet were firmly together and my ever- present smile was plastered on my fire-engine red lips. All in all, I presented the picture of perfect sissy femininity Smokey had demanded. Smokey glared at me for daring to interrupt. She stood and faced me. Her wet fingers stroked my cheek. The scent from Elsa's crotch was overw