Nasty Boy Lovely Girl Part 6
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Nasty Boy. Lovely Girl Part 4 free porn video
If there happens to be any real women reading this description of my
punishment, please, when you stop giggling and laughing out loud,
consider how you would feel if you were being punished by having to wear
thick clunky work boots and oil stained jeans and a "wife beater" T-
shirt with a pack of Marlboros rolled into the sleeve and then being
made to try on and buy suits at Brooks Brothers. All the while with
everyone knowing that you were a girl not a man.
Wait a minute! That is no problem in our world today. Women do such
things all the time and no one bats an eye. That is no "Punishment" for
a woman.
But for me, a 16 year old boy, fresh from the baseball diamond, whose
only interaction with women, mother and sister included, was to degrade
them and be an ass to them, the exquisite punishment my Mother and
Father had designed for me was a trip into humiliation beyond anything I
could have imagined. Had I ever thought to think of such a revolting
thing.
But if you are a real woman reading this description, maybe this is
exactly what you would love to do to a certain male person of your
acquaintance to put him in precisely the place he belongs. I hope you
are instructed and pleased by what you read. It has been hell to
experience it and describing it to you, as I have been told to do by
Mother, just refreshes the agony in my mind. But a Sissy has to do what
She Who Must Be Obeyed has commanded.
If you are NOT a real woman reading this missive, I bet imagining what
was done to me being done to you makes you feel as much of a woman as
you can be. Or as much of a Sissy. Whatever, I hope you enjoy and are
sincerely unsettled by what I have had to go through.
Mother led me by the arm through the crowded store and to the door out
to the mall. She stopped at the door and said "We are going to
Victoria's Secret now, Sonny Boy. I want you to walk about 10 feet in
front of me. You are a sight. And i want you to be alone in the sight of
those who gawk at you. And they are gawking at you. What they see is not
a girl and is not a boy. What they see is a Sissy. And people laugh at
sissies. Rightfully so. Your father and I want you to be laughed at,
long and hard. This punishment isn't about making you into a beautiful
girl. This punishment is about making you into a beautiful Sissy, who
everyone knows isn't a girl and really isn't a boy either. So, don't
fall on your sissy butt in your new pumps. I won't help you up. You're
on your own now, Sissy Wendy.
"When you get to Victoria's Secret, I will be right behind you. Go
directly to the first saleswoman you see and tell her that you have
never had your own bra before and that the bra you are wearing is your
mother's and you would like to be measured for correct fit and size and
would like to purchase a whole wardrobe of lingerie. After you have done
that I will step forward and offer any assistance to the laughing
saleswoman as i can. After all, someone has to be sure you get the
proper underpinnings for the cute outfits we will purchase later. Oh,
yes, sometime during the fitting and the trying on of those sensuous
garments, please ask the nice lady if there is somewhere you could
change your tampon. I am sure she will have noticed the string by then
so no problem, right?
"Now, off you go and thrust that chest out and work those legs in those
heels."
Mother pointed out the door and said "Turn left" and I pushed myself out
the door and into the crowds in the main promenade of the mall and
spotted to pink Victoria's Secret sign a long way off down the mall.
My new shoes felt slippery on the cold marble of the aisle and I was
taking every small steps due to my ineptness in heels. I could feel the
two little barrettes Mother had used to keep my sprayed hair in place
behind my ears and I could look up and see the bangs brushing my
forehead. As i looked down I could see the sheen of my thigh-highs in
contrast to the coarseness of my khaki shorts, especially now that my
legs were shown off by the height of the heels. Mother's bra was clearly
evident at the shoulders by the straps showing through and, I am sure,
the back closure strap could be seen through the whiteness of my man's
dress shirt. My painted fingernails clutched the shiny purse and i could
feel the creaminess of my lipstick on my otherwise unmadeup face. I
carried most of the shoe purchases in a pink store bag which had dark
red roses emblazoned all over it.
Victoria's Secret looked three miles away.
In our area, heels at the shopping center were not a common sight. Women
usually donned flats or sneakers and had the rushed soccer mom look. My
heels clattering on the floor seemed draw eyes to my feet and then to me
in total. Men walking by looked at the sound of heels as men tend to do.
When they saw what there was to see, their mouths would drop open and
they would stare. Women checked to see which elegant matron would
venture into the mall. Then they would see me. Their eyes would light up
and a big smile would crease their face. Almost innately, they would see
me and not knowing why I was such, they would realize that this was the
way some woman wanted me to look and they knew that the woman had a damn
good reason for doing this to me. Some would smile and blow me a kiss.
Others would nudge their husband and whisper something in his ear. I bet
they were telling the poor guy that they could and would do that to
hubby, so straighten up and fly right, big guy.
I reached the entrance to Victoria's Secret and looked back to see
Mother standing there, about ten feet away, with her arms crossed over
her striking busom and giving me a finger wave sign to go about my
sissy business, right now.
I turned and stepped, one heeled foot in front of the other, into the
store and a musical chime sounded. Several women customers turned to
look at the new lingerie customer and so did all the clerks, whose
livelihood depended on the strength of their sales.
A young woman, about 29 or 30, wearing a charcoal pencil skirt, 4 inch
black patent heels, and a sheer soft white silk ruffled collar blouse
over a very easily seen black molded cup bra, approached me and asked:
"Can I help you, ah.......sir?"
I tried to find the words and I am sure it came out as a croak.
"Miss, I am being punished and I am wearing my mother's bra and she
wants it back and I really need to be fitted and buy some bras and,
ah... other things for myself. Can you help me?"
I almost fainted after that speech. But the woman grabbed my arm and
looked into my eyes and said "You have just made my day, honey. I will
be happy to see that you are fitted correctly and have all that you need
for your punishment. Where shall we start?"
Just at that time Mother came in closer and took me by the arm and said
to the saleswoman: "Isn't he a brave boy? Too bad he wasn't this brave
and polite before.
He will need several bras of many styles, some panties, a panty girdle
or two, a few camisoles, a couple half slips and two full slips, at
least one bustier and one long line bra and maybe, if he is a good girl,
an all-in-one foundation garment. Oh yes, the proper sleep wear too."
The saleswoman's eyes light up with dollar signs. The sale of the
century had wandered in with the body of a 16 year old boy.
"Oh, we can take very good care of him, mame. Everything he needs should
be right here. He must have been a very bad little boy. I am sure you
know what needs to be done to him and I will be delighted to help you.
Now let's get him to the fitting room. I want to get his measurements
and then you and I can find just the right pretty items which ill make
his boyish cheeks turn bright red. Or would he would prefer that we let
make up to that?"
My heels didn't make a sound on the plush gold carpet of the salesroom
as I was led to the rear and into the primary fitting room. No sound was
the only good thing about that trip past all those women buying intimate
frilly things for themselves and, who knows, for their husbands or
boyfriends.
My mother took my arm and led me to the fitting room with all the aplomb
and happiness any mother would have at her daughter's first voyage into
female sexiness. Too bad for me that I wasn't her daughter.
The fitting area was a temple to womanhood. Three walls were covered
with ornately framed mirrors, curved to allow viewing of the subject's
body from all angles at one time. The fourth wall held the door way and
a long rack to hold garments to be tried or those rejected. There was a
bright light above a platform, centered within the mirrors, which was
raised about a foot off the floor and carpeted with the same plushness
as the sales floor. There were two plush red velvet arm chairs facing
the platform and Mother sat at once in the closest one and I was
positioned in the center of the raised platform.
The saleswoman asked me to take off my shorts and shirt. I stood there
in my heels and in panties and thigh highs and my mother's bra. The
saleswoman stepped up onto the platform and reached behind my back and
unclasped the hook and eyes and took the bra off me. She handed the bra
to my mother and Mom said "Thanks, I needed that back."
Then mother said something else. "I am sure you have had other male
customers in here but maybe there are some of your newer salespeople who
have never had the experience of fitting a boy or a man into your fine
garments. I think it would be a great learning experience for these
young women."
"You are absolutely correct. There are two other women working out there
right now who I know have never had this experience. They would love to
learn how to achieve a realistic look on an unrealistic body. That would
be a great help and a lot of fun for them. But don't you think your son
might be a little too embarrassed by more women viewing his fittings?"
"Dear, that is exactly why I want you to bring more women in here. Maybe
they can each pick out the frilliest little bra they would like to see
on him or their husband or their boyfriend. The boy will hate it. That's
the idea."
I stood there with my arms and hands around my chest, hiding my mostly
nonexistent boobs just as a young girl would do in a moment of
embarrassment. By this time I was wishing for a bra, any bra, to cover
me up. These women were talking about me as if I wasn't there. Then it
dawned on me. I wasn't there. The me that had been there a week ago, two
days ago, was being stripped away and in it's place was the punished me.
The me who desperately wanted a bra to cover my, never before thought
of, breasts in front of these women and all the women who might join
them in this fitting room. I wasn't a 16 year old boy. I was a sissified
pansy, learning to be even more sissified. And Mom had made it clear
that this punishment would not stop for many more days.
"Wendy, stand up straight and put those arms down at your side. These
nice ladies want to help you. Now hold still while she measures you
under the bust area and then she will measure you directly across the
nipples. We have to determine your bra size and your cup size. Then
these lovely ladies will go out into the store and fine the most
beautiful things for you to wear. Just like they do for me, your
Mother."
"Looks like Wendy here will be starting out as a 36 B. That's really
somewhat more impressive than most of the 16 year old girls we fit in
here. You're a lucky boy, Wendy!
There should be no problem fitting you is anything that we have in the
store. Marcia, go out and get Style 1074 in a 36 B, please."
It didn't take long for Marcia to return with a big smile on her face.
She had a hanger in her hand which had a garment much larger than the
wisp of a bra which mother had made me wear. Marcia handed the garment
to my Mother.
"I think it is fitting (no pun intended) that Wendy's mother have the
honor of putting Wendy into his first Long Line Bra."
Mother took the hanger and held it up close to my chest.
"I love it!"
She took the bra off the hanger.
"Oh, this is nice! A front closure! I will be able to look Wendy right
in his eyes as I hook the hooks and zip the closure zipper. Slip your
arms into these straps, Wendy. Now let me do some adjustments on the
straps and bring the silky sides around your torso. Just a little tug
and then the first eyelet is closed. Isn't this fun, Wendy? Just a few
more to control the garment in place. Now lets zip the closure all the
way up. Oh, that was smooth! Look at your figure in the mirror, Wendy.
That bra is a definite keeper. Pretty sure you will wear that one to
Mass next Sunday."
I looked into the mirrors and saw several women looking back at me. One
of them was me.
"We have a long ways to go. Start bringing more styles, faster. And I
want him to have at least one bra in a C-cup and one in a D-cup. Cute
and perky B's are nice but for really nasty humiliation a D-cup will do
the job quite nicely. Not sure yet, but a D-cup may be required when you
visit your gynecologist's office. Maybe, Maybe not. But a girl can
dream, can't I?"
"Now, ladies, why don't you step up on the platform with my son and you
can feel the smooth fit of the long line bra. I really think that the
long line bra is not utilized enough by women for themselves and surely
not enough with their men. Notice how the strong fabric encases and
molds the flesh below the bust line and pushes that flesh in the proper
direction of cleavage. It also firms and takes in unsightly flesh,
especially in the male, and makes a feminine mold of both the torso and
the bust.
"Wendy, bend over at the waist and let the ladies see how your pathetic
little titties have been pushed up into the bra cups. Ladies you may
feel the cups to determine how full they are. Naturally with a boy
sissy, a little help may be needed to achieve total fullness of the cup.
We will address that problem very shortly. But where possible it is
always most humiliating for the male if the cup is full by use of his
own flesh.
"Wendy, put your hands and arms behind your back. Thank you. That allows
the girls to see the forward thrust of your breasts which is enhanced by
the confining structure of the long line bra. Come on, Ladies, you can
pinch his little nipples if you would like. It is always best that a boy
who is being punished is given all the help he can get to make his
nipples show up perky and large. You can help his punishment by fondling
his boobs and telling him how girly he looks."
"Oh, dear, Wendy, didn't you have something you wanted to ask of the
girls?"
My face blushed and even deeper red. With my torso encased in a long
line bra and my B-cups filled and thrust out in front of me and all the
ladies, I stood there in my heels and had to say what Mother had
instructed me to do.
"Ladies, do you have a 'ladies room' nearby? I have to change my tampon.
It is way past time and I mustn't create a mess while being fitted for
my new lingerie. Besides, I need to refresh my lipstick."
to be continued....
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