Prince and Prentiss Part 1
- 1 year ago
- 8
- 0
Prince And Prentiss, Part 2 free porn video
© Copyright 2012, by Leslie P. Lowe. All rights reserved.
[email protected]
Synopsis: On the day of his father's funeral, a young man is enslaved as a
sissy by his cruel stepmother and her daughter, until he meets a rock star
who changes his life. This story is dedicated to Sandy Brown, who has so
generously tried to help me grow as a writer, not that she can be blamed
for any of this story, which she has not yet seen and for which I am
solely responsible.
Princess and Prentiss, Part 2
By Leslie Lowe
A few days after Dirk's visit, a friend of my father's, Gene Firea,
visited to announce a charity ball in honor of the rockstar Prentiss, who
was coming to town. He wanted to ask his friend's son to attend the party
and meet Prentiss. Gretchen and even Mommie could come too, but he
doubted they were interested.
Mommie called me in from the kitchen, where I had been following her
orders by hiding and eavesdropping. She told Gene who I was. Her story
was that his friend's erstwhile son had revealed himself to be a total
sissy who enjoyed dressing as a girl and liked to be called Princess, to
Mommie and Gretchen's utter shock and dismay.
Gene asked me to confirm it. I saw Mommie toying with the pink remote, so
I agreed with what she had said, helpless and hopeless again, defeated by
Mommie's sly machinations.
But Gene surprised all three of us when he told Mommie this was very
interesting and that I just had to come to his party in a beautiful gown,
and he would supply it for me. We all knew this was quite an honor, since
he was a famous couturier. He would also send his car and driver for me,
so that I would be seen by everyone as his special guest. He implied that
Mommie should not interfere if she wanted her daughter to meet Prentiss,
who was between girlfriends and reputedly looking for a wife. Without
fanfare, he made me strip and measured me for his gown with both women
looking on. I was terribly embarrassed with my pink ring showing, but
Gene just said, "I love your bling, sweetie."
After Gene left, Mommie and Gretchen began to brutalize me on a whole new
level, attiring me up in a drab uniform dress designed for a real maid and
in sensible shoes with no makeup. They made me put my hair up in a severe
bun, and forced me under threat of shock to accompany them as their
servant to the mall to carry packages while they shopped for the party.
Still, I received several compliments on how pretty I was, a natural
beauty, which made Gretchen seeth all the more.
On Saturday, Gene arrived and fitted me in my flowing white gown with a
full tulle skirt and a lovely sweetheart bodice edged in delicate lace.
He made me take it off and sit in my bra, panties, hose and heels, while
he did the alterations with his own hands and had the makeup artist he
used for his top models do my face. I was in heaven the entire time,
treated as a real princess, fussed over by the world's experts at making a
woman look and feel beautiful. The envious Gretchen watched with her hard
eyes burning holes in me, certainly contemplating her revenge.
The car arrived, shiny and plush, and the handsome chauffeur drove me to
the party, where Gene served as host in an immaculate gray tuxedo that
made him look like the dapper fashion maven he was. He escorted me inside
for a grand entrance and introduced me to Prentiss, who was very handsome
and manly, even dressed in a period costume of a lacy blue satin coat and
blue pumps with two-inch heels, like a member of the pre-revolutionary
French court. Prentiss seemed totally taken with me, as I was with him.
The cameras flashed as he asked me to dance and walked with me into the
center of the ballroom as I clutched his arm, somehow feeling safely at
home.
We danced and danced until it was time for the main event. Before
Prentiss took the stage, he invited me to sit with the rock group's
girlfriends in the front. The performance was incredible, with girls
screaming and clamoring to get closer to Prentiss onstage and the other
girls with the band treating me like one of their own, as if I were
Prentiss' girl. Before he began his concluding speech in support of the
charity, The Transgendered Day of Remembrance, he called me up to the
microphone to stand with him, and he held my hand tenderly as he spoke. I
could feel his passion for the cause flowing with loving energy up my arm
to my heart. I realized suddenly that for the first time in my life I was
in love. He kissed me on the lips at the end of his speech, and it was
all I could do not to faint.
Sadly, it all ended at midnight, because Prentiss and the band had to
travel to their next tour destination across the country. With his final
kiss, he promised to ask Gene to arrange for us to meet again soon. He
wanted to meet my parents. I smiled to think that the presence of Mommie
and Gretchen at the ball had not registered with him at all.
The next day, Mommie and Gretchen began a new quest to make my life an
even worse hell. Even so, my mood was blithe and carefree as I performed
my chores and took the abuse from them, because I now had a protective
friend in Gene, and to my amazement a rock star boyfriend!
But within three days, my world crashed down around me. Gene had been
killed by gay bashers and Prentiss had no way to find me trapped at home
as the housekeeper. I was again devoid of hope.
A few days later, as I was finishing the dishes, I made a shocking
discovery while watching the kitchen television left on by Gretchen after
dinner, when they had moved to the family room for me to serve them coffee
and dessert. I was astonished to see Entertainment Tonight report on "The
Mystery Girl" at Gene's party, showing videos of Prentiss kissing me. The
reporter related the tragic story of Gene's death and finished by
reporting that Prentiss was searching for the Mystery Girl he called
Princess. I giggled at the irony of my new nickname, now used both in
hatred and in love to identify a rather pretty girl, if I did say so
myself, who had recently thought she was a failed boy.
The next morning, while Mommie was out and Gretchen was in the shower, I
called ET from a cell phone supplied by a kind delivery man and told an
assistant producer who I was. Mommie and Gretchen saw the news that night
on ET, where they played the tape of my crying voice, saying I was the
girl Prentiss had kissed.
She and Gretchen punished me severely, and then surprised me by calling ET
and asking them to send a crew to interview me.
The next morning, after I had cooked Mommie and Gretchen breakfast and
cleaned up the kitchen, they stripped me down, removed my makeup, and
dressed me down as a young man wearing Gretchen's jeans and jogging shoes
with one of Mommie's very plain tees. Just before the time set for the
interview, Mommie ordered me what to answer to all possible ET questions,
showing me the pink remote and putting it in her pocket, where she kept
her hand during the entire ET visit.
I walked outside and, to the utter surprise of the ET reporter, denied
being the pretty girl at the party and apologized for lying. Just as
instructed, I said it was all a hoax. I admitted I was a sissy and that I
had dearly wanted to be that pretty girl and be kissed by Prentiss, and
that alone had motivated my call. I implied I had been under the care of
a "counselor" and even apologized to Mommie and Gretchen for embarrassing
them, crying genuine tears that regrettably must have looked like
contrition for hurting them, when I was actually wallowing in my anger and
frustration at the injustice of it all, and crying for poor Gene, whose
funeral Mommie had not permitted me to attend.
A week of holy hell followed the ET interview and their report of my
"outrageous hoax," which showed pictures of me looking like two different
people of two different genders, which I found myself thinking of as the
real me, the girl me, versus the sissy boy Mommie and Gretchen created.
All week, the two of them trotted me around the city showing me off in
various degrees of sissy and girlish dress, never allowing me to look
cute, always an ugly hybrid of uncertain gender, neither fish nor fowl,
always forced to say I felt so bad about being a sissy fraud and
explaining I was being punished for lying to my loving mother.
Then, to my amazement and delight, Prentiss showed up with an ET crew and
several cops, surprising me, Mommie and Gretchen as they watched me work
in the yard, their latest public torture scheme. I was dressed as what
they called a sissy yardman, with a few curious ET and Prentiss fans
gawking and snapping pictures of me as I trimmed the grass near the long
driveway with fingernail clippers. Mommie, seeing the cameras, was forced
to let Prentiss in. As she fingered the pink remote before putting it in
her pocket, I could see she was overjoyed that I looked horrible, my
lipstick and eye makeup smeared by sweat, my painted nails chipped, and my
hair a tangled mess.
Watching them come up the driveway, I just stood there, feeling dejected,
feeling humiliated, totally exposed to a world that hated me, certain that
this was the end of my fairytale dreams of being Prentiss' girlfriend,
believing that this moment of final rejection by Prentiss--Who could blame
him?--would be seen as just one of the many examples of lurid ET voyeurism
showing crazy people acting out, this episode labeled by all the show's
regular viewers as just another trite tale about television feeding an
insane sissy's craving for fame, my final bow in the limelight, and then
my life would be over and I would recede into the drab anonymity from
which I had come, until Mommie and Gretchen tired of torturing me and
ended my life, as I now suspected they had my parents' lives, or sooner,
if I managed to be alone long enough to take it myself, accepting death
gratefully as the only way to end my pain.
Prentiss stopped in front of me, smiling gamely at the mess I was. "Hi,
Princess," he said tenderly.
"Hi there," I said, trying to smile back, but finding myself adding to my
shame by bursting into tears and collapsing to the ground, my legs too
weak to hold me.
Prentiss knelt down and took my hand. He gently helped me sit up. He
leaned over and gave me a lingering, incredibly profound, kiss that popped
open my streaming eyes, causing him to laugh with pleasure.
"What?" I said.
"You are so pretty!" he said.
"Like this?"
"Always," he said, standing up and taking me with him, my hope and energy
returning, my heart swelling with an abundance of love for this man, my
savior.
"I don't believe you," I chided. "I look horrible. But oh my God,
Prentiss, it helps so much to hear you say I'm pretty!"
He hugged me and held me, whispering into my ear, "I love you."
"You do?"
"Yes!" he said, stepping back, apparently remembering, finally, the crowd
and the cameras, and said loudly, almost oratorically, "Please let take
you away from all this! A sweet girl like you deserves a better life,
away from these--these criminals. Poor Gene told me all about you on the
way to the airport after the ball. I know everything, sweetheart. It
just took me awhile to find you, and to fly in from Japan. But we're
together now, and if I have my way, we'll never be apart again. So will
you come with me, and be my princess?"
Before I could answer, Mommie was overcome by impotent rage and clamped
down on the pink pain button with a vengeance. I later found out that she
would not let go of the button until a cop thoroughly tased her, so that
Prentiss and half the nation saw me collapse into humiliating anguish on
the grass before passing out, and then saw Mommie in her turn horribly
convulsed, with arched back and gnashing teeth, and even saw Gretchen
urging her mother on camera to "teach that bitch a lesson," and then
slinking around, caught by the ET reporter, finally attempting ludicrously
to explain that she too had been a victim of a deranged mother. The video
went viral.
When I woke up in a hospital bed without the pink collar encircling my
exquisitely tender privates, Prentiss was holding my hand and the
television was showing Mommie and Gretchen on their perp walk, reporters
predicting each would be sentenced to at least thirty years for
embezzlement, extortion and kidnapping. As the doors of the jail slammed
shut, Prentiss kissed me and said, "Will you be my bride, Princess?"
Prentiss and I lived happily ever after, adopting and raising a pretty
little girl and a handsome little boy, both of them turning out to be
completely normal. I don't know what we did wrong with those kids!
[All positive and negative feedback is greatly appreciated!]
© Copyright 2012, by Leslie P. Lowe. All rights reserved.
Lianne
- 08.10.2020
- 20
- 0
Nandita To Nandini
- 3 years ago
- 232
- 0
Father daughter Date Mother sonChapter 14 Miss Prentiss
- 4 years ago
- 6
- 0
