How To Build A Better Sissy free porn video

How to Build a Better Sissy Or My Evolution by: Missy Satinpanties I was a small, skinny child, with a rather normal family. My father worked for the electric company as an auditor, and my mother ran a yoga studio in the converted garage of our home. When I was young, this was where I played, watching women contort themselves into the various yoga poses. I was about 6 when I asked my mother if I could do yoga, too. She was happy to accommodate my request. So, every day that summer I would be down in the studio, for almost three hours, wearing sweatpants and a T shirt, doing the best I could to imitate my mother. Mom also gave me lessons in the evening. I noticed that most of the women who were in her classes were normal looking housewives, wearing about what I wore, while my mother, slender, with long blonde hair, looked elegant in her leotards and tights. She would wear purples, or pinks, or some other pretty color, and could move like a cat. Now, there were a few ladies in the class who looked pretty in similar attire, but at the time, I just noticed how pretty they were, and that was that. By the time I was in 6th grade, I had pretty well mastered all the yoga poses, and was as limber and lithe as my mom. It was around this time that I really started to notice the pretty ladies in the classes, and began to be curious about the female body, and the beautiful clothes they wore. When my mother asked me if I would mind helping out in the classes, I almost jumped in anticipation. It was a joy to actually touch some of the younger ladies, as I helped them into poses, touching a smooth leg or arm here, hands around a slender waist there. Even some of the more "motherly" ladies were fun. I was still small and slender, but in quite good shape. I loved to swim, and would be at the YMCA as often as I could get there, paddling around the pool. It was there that I saw my first real springboard diver. There was a separate diving well at the end of the pool, which was 20 ft. deep to accommodate the divers from the 2 meter board. I just sat with arms over the edge of the pool and watched diving practice. The guys and girls just looked so magical as they leapt from the board and contorted themselves into what looked like airborne yoga poses, and then slipped into the water with barely a splash. I wanted to do that! A few days later, I found myself on the high board, and tried to imitate what I had seen. What I did was what I now know was called a forward dive in the pike position. When I got out of the water, an older man introduced himself to me as the YMCA's diving coach. He wanted to know where I learned to dive, and I told him that I was just trying to imitate what I had seen. Long story short, I joined the JV Diving Team, and soon moved onto the high school team, where I became the star. Not good enough to ever make the Olympics, but more than good enough in our small corner of the world to take a lot of first and second place finishes. It also got me a partial scholarship at a decent college. College was fun, and when I wasn't in class or diving, I was working at the local coffee shop. I never really had the time or money to do much dating, but I began to really watch the girls in their flirty skirts, sweaters, and heels, watching their mannerisms, how they walked, how they stood, what they did with their hands and feet, and how they moved their hips. I soon found that I was sort of torn between wanting to get into their panties, and wanting to get into, and wear their panties! It was at the college laundry that I also learned that the girls wore boring old cotton panties for the most part. I never really investigated, but sort of watched as they sorted, washed, and dried their dainties. I would occasionally catch a glimpse of satin or lace, a quick peek at a nightie, but for the most part, normal, everyday cotton was the rule. Now, back home before college, I used to help mom around the house, occasionally even doing the laundry, and it was there that I had my first experience of women's undergarments. My mother wore only "pretty" underwear, lots of satin, nylon, and lace, and when she and my father would go out, she would wear stockings and garter belts rather than pantyhose. I overheard her talking to one of her friends, and she said that there would be plenty of time for cotton panties and ugly pantyhose when she got older. She wanted to feel pretty as long as she could. Of course, when I helped with the laundry, I would take special notice of her lingerie. At first, I would look, and then graduated to feeling the material, and eventually sniffing the crotch of her panties. As I learned what my pecker was for, I would sniff her panties and masturbate, a heavenly combination! However, it was a very special, rainy Saturday that changed my life. My parents were going out of town to some benefit, and had left Saturday morning, to return the following evening. I was alone, with some chores. My heart jumped when Mom casually asked me, as she was going out the door, if I would mind terribly doing the laundry. Mind? I was to be alone with her dainties? Why should I mind! I don't know what prompted me, but I found myself watching as the car pulled away. I waited for 15 minutes, in case they came back for something, and then raced to my room, and pulled my clothes off. Naked, I made my way to the laundry room. Without much thought, I started to go through her things. I found a pair of pink lacy thong panties, a pair of royal blue satin panties with lots of lace, and a pair of peach colored tap panties. (At the time, I had no idea what to call them, I've since learned all about the various bits of feminine lingerie.) I kept rooting around, and found a bra to match the blue panties. I put all this aside, and kept looking. What I found next blew me away. It looked like one of her leotards, but it was a delicate satin and lace garment in pale silvery blue. I grabbed it, along with my other treasures, and headed for my room. When I got there, I tried them all on, amazed at how well they fit. My mom had rather small breasts, and the cups on the bras fit rather well. I was now the same height as my mom, and very slender, and the panties looked really good as they hugged my round little butt, and sort of naughty as they were tented in front from my hard cock. I finally got the courage to put on the teddy, and the feeling was electric. I stood there, admiring myself in my small mirror, and suddenly got the idea to go to my parent's room to use the big mirror there. I loved what I saw! I had just washed my longish blonde hair that morning, and with the light coming through the blinds behind me, I thought it was almost as shiny as my mother's. I thought something was missing, though. Getting bolder, I opened her closet, and picked up a pair of her black high heels. I was over the moon when I found they were very tight, but I could wear them! I was also bummed when I found I couldn't walk in them. I stumbled around a bit, and finally got the hang of walking in heels, although without any semblance of grace. Back to the mirror, I saw not a boy, but a cross between a boy and a girl. If I pushed my cock back between my legs, I looked like a young girl, and spent a long, long time admiring myself. I finally got around to lying down on the bed, and was about to pull my cock out of the satin frillies, when I got an idea. I went back to my room, and grabbed the pair of blue panties. Returning to my parent's room, I pulled them over my head so that the cotton gusset was over my nose. Inhaling my mother's pussy scent, wearing her teddy and heels, I began to jerk myself off, cumming far faster, and with greater intensity than I had ever experienced. As I lay there, wrung out, I began to wonder what her other clothes felt like. For the rest of the day, I tried on blouses and skirts, bras and panties, and even at one point, went whole hog, wearing the blue panties and bra, a beautiful black lace garter belt and black stockings, her heels and a short navy blue dress. I was in heaven! I must have beat off at least a dozen times that day, making my young cock rather sore! That night, I slept in one of my mother's delicate pink baby doll nightgowns, and realized that I had a solid fetish for lingerie. Sunday was spent washing everything, and diligently replacing things in their various drawers and closets so nothing would be noticed. In the bottom drawer, I did find one pair of really pretty pink satin panties with lashings of lace. They were behind a bunch of old T-shirts etc., so...I took em! About three weeks later, my mother came into my room one evening, sat down on the bed, and told me that we needed to talk. I had no idea what was going on, but it seemed to be serious. "Honey," she began, "I want you to know that I love you, and will always love you, but I have some questions to ask you, and I want to know the truth. Okay?" I nodded, feeling very, very nervous, as she continued, "Honey, have you been looking through my underwear?" I slowly nodded again. "Have you been wearing my underthings?" I started to nod, and then started to cry. Mom wrapped her arms around me, and we talked for a long time about me wanting to wear lingerie. She asked me if I like boys or girls, and I just sat there for a moment, and finally said that I liked girls, but when I wore her pretty things, I thought about boys, too. We sat there and talked for a long, long time. In the end, Mom gave me several pairs of panties and a nightie for my very own, with the proviso that I stay out of her things in the future, and never told Dad what I was doing. I readily agreed, and from that day forward, it was our little secret. She even let me wear a pair of her leotards sometimes in the evening when we did yoga together, just the two of us. Okay, I still grabbed Mom's soiled panties and sniffed them when I masturbated, but... Anyway, while I was in college, I kept my small stash of girly things at home, and contented myself with watching the girls. I did some dating, but being low on cash, and low on time, it never amounted to much. The best thing about college was the fact that I inherited my father's math skills, and his discipline, so the coursework was fairly easy. I finally got my degree, a double major in accounting and business, and to my surprise, was picked up almost right away by a large insurance company. My starting salary, while not astronomical, was large enough to allow me to rent a 1500 square foot, two bedroom garden apartment. I had a private entrance, a nice little patio with an even smaller patch of grass all surrounded by a privacy fence, and was my little personal piece of heaven. I took my beat up old car home to pick up my things, and there my parents surprised me with a nice little year-old Honda Accord. After a short time at home, I packed up my new car, and started to back down the driveway. My mom came running out with a box in her hands. "Here, Sweetie," she said as she handed the box in through the window, "Here's a few little things you forgot, and a couple of additions. Don't open the box until you're at home!" With those words rumbling about in my head, off I went to the big city. About 6 hours later, I pulled into my assigned space, and started to ferry boxes inside. I had already hit a nice little used furniture place, and the place now had a table and chairs, a sofa, bed, nightstand, and dresser. Not the most elegant, but for now it would do. As I sat on my bed, sipping a well-earned cold beer, I suddenly remembered the last minute box. I darted out to the car, wearing only a pair of gym shorts, and recovered the mystery package. Back in my bedroom, I pulled off the brown wrapping and opened the box, only to discover my stash of girly lingerie, along with a new, very pretty long, pink satin nightgown and robe, and a pair of delicate, baby blue satin panties in a zip lock bag. I opened the bag, and found that my mother had put a note in with them: Sweetie, I know you used my soiled panties to fuel your fantasies, and far from being disgusted, I'm rather flattered. I wore these panties for two days straight, and I'm ashamed to admit it, but I even played with myself through the material. Enjoy! Mom PS: Don't tell anyone, and destroy this note after you read it, please! They went right up to my nose, and I inhaled their wonderful aroma. I quickly sealed them back up, and headed for the shower. That night, I wore my new nightgown to bed, and slept like a baby. (By the way, for those who are a bit squeamish, this was the closest I ever came to anything like incest!) Within a few weeks, I had purchased a new computer, had my internet connected, and would spend my evenings surfing the web. At first, I found myself looking for furniture, and found that Ikea had a lot of stuff that would fit my apartment, at a price that wouldn't hurt too much. So, two chairs and ottomans, a bookshelf, new dresser, bed, and nightstand, and a few misc. bits took up most, if not all of my budget for the first few months. I started then to look around on the net, just to see what I could see. One of my video searches for girls in lingerie took me to a video of a man in a satin dress that could only be described as something a little girl would wear to a fancy party, or to a beauty pageant. I was very interested! I started to search for these sissy dresses and such, and found a site called Birchplace Shops, another called I Love Ruffles, and a whole slew of vendors on EBay. This was new to me, and I found it sort of calling out to me. I bought a pair of wonderful, baby blue satin panties with enough lace to make a wedding gown and a matching training bra, two pairs of thigh high stockings in white with bows, at the top, two pairs of nylon ankle socks, one with baby blue lace at the top, and the other with white lace. The topper was a baby blue satin dress with a huge froth of crinolines and lace and bows everywhere! My bills for the day damn near equaled my rent, but I didn't care! I went across town to a huge mall, and found a discount shoe store that was large enough for me to slip undetected into the ladies shoe aisle, and find that a size 9 fit me rather well. I also stopped into a large, and rather expensive department store when I saw they were having a sale on "Ladies Intimates." I bought about 20 pairs of panties, in all styles, but all in nylon, silk, or satin, and all in pastels. I didn't even give the girl behind the counter an excuse, just produced the cash and paid. I was amazed that the whole pile of luscious panties only set me back about 90 bucks! I know, a whole lotta money, but at that point, if someone offered me a choice between panties and groceries, I don't think I would have picked food! When I got home, I used my new found knowledge to buy 2 pairs of shoes from EBay. I found a pair of black patent shoes that looked just like the Mary Jane shoes little girls wear, but with a thick, three inch heel, and then a pair of white pumps with a 5 inch heel. I had no idea how to really walk in heels, but was determined to learn! From that moment on, I kind of went nuts. I started to keep myself shaved again, something I had done as a diver, and even went so far as to book appointments at a local laser hair removal salon. This was very expensive, and I could only afford to have a little done at a time, but I thought it was worth it. It took almost 6 months to finish the treatments, but I would never have to worry about hair, anywhere, on my body again. I bought satin sheets for my bed in white and pink, a pair of high-heeled mule slippers, two more long satin nightgowns from EBay, and some pink lipstick and nail polish. I didn't polish my fingernails for a long time, as I was afraid it wouldn't all come off easily, and someone at work would notice, but my toe nails stayed painted. As for work, I was just another drone in another cubicle. I sort of kept to myself, making a few friends, but not being a social butterfly like some. And yes, every day, I was wearing panties under my shirt and slacks. When that thrill wore thin, I bought six garter belts and some every day stockings to wear. This was as close to wearing "normal" omen's lingerie, although the garter belts were really sexy and lacy. WOW! What a feeling! I would look at the women in the office and just know that my lingerie was most likely sexier than theirs! I had been in my apartment for almost 18 months when I decided that I needed to make the spare bedroom into my "girlie space." I set about buying a white canopy bed, a white dresser, and a white vanity, all from the same little second had shop my original furniture had come from. I told him that I had a 6 year old niece coming to spend a few months with me, and he even gave a break on the price! I painted the room a pale, seashell pink, with gloss white trim, and bought a large white fluffy rug. Trips to second hand shops garnered me a few girly prints for the walls, and then I moved my new wardrobe into my new space. My boy clothes, cotton sheets, and male underwear lived in the master bedroom, and my as-yet unnamed alter-ego lived in the spare room with pink walls, white girly furnishings, and satin sheets. This way, IF anyone came over, things would look normal. I even installed a new lock on the door that you couldn't open with a paperclip, and decided to tell anyone that it was just a storage room. The final touch came with some white lace curtains over the mini blinds. My routine was now defined. Every morning, I would wake up in my satin bed, slip on my high heeled slippers and satin robe, and make my way to the kitchen for a light breakfast. I would shower, and wash my lengthening hair, and head back to the "pink room." I would select and slip on the panties and stockings for the day. As it was getting colder, I had started to wear sweaters to work, and on those days, I would add a lacy little camisole to my outfit. Of course the color of the cami would match my panties! Then I would head for the master bedroom to finish getting dressed for the day. Once home, it was into the master to remove my outer self, and then into my sissy dresses and heels, or some lounging lingerie, and then onto the internet. There were several chat sites where I would spend time, some with a guy's persona, some with a girl's, and one, called Club Sissy, where I claimed my identity as a sissy. The designation of myself as a sissy was an evolutionary process. At first, I really didn't think of myself as anything. Then, the term cross dresser was what I applied to myself. I really didn't' identify that way though, as I liked clothing and lingerie that was more attuned to being a little girly-girl, and being very, very frilly and lacy. Not the things a normal woman would wear. Gradually, though, I would find the word "sissy" being used, and I explored the concept. It dawned on me one evening that a sissy was exactly what I thought of myself as. Uber frilly dresses, the desire to be subservient, not wanting to be a transvestite, transsexual, or drag queen. Sissy was the only category that hit me as perfect, so there I was, and there I am. I also did not do anything while dressed, at least not at this point in my life. I didn't go to clubs all dolled up, I didn't use make up and walk the streets, I didn't even go to the adult book store. I merely loved wearing all that divine, soft, and silky satin against my body, and loved the way I looked in the mirror. I did, however, start to imagine what it would be like to serve a Mistress, or maybe even a Master... I had been on my own, out of college for about 2 years, maybe a bit more, when I made my first trip to an adult bookstore across town. I put on my most frilly and lacy underwear for the trip. I put on a pair of pink satin panties, dripping with lace and ribbons, a matching training bra, frilly garter belt and a pair of white stockings with bows at the top. Over this went a pair of sweat pants and a baggy shirt. I debated over shoes for a long time, finally giving in to my desires and putting on a pair of pink Sketchers. When I got there, I spent a while getting a feel for the place, and then sort of lost my nerve. I locked myself into a booth with no glory holes, stripped off my shirt, lowered my sweats and masturbated to the disappointing shemale movie that was playing. After I was done, I decided that I would return, and be a bit more adventurous. I kept that promise to myself, in spades! I had found a rack with some "toys" at the bookstore, and ended up buying a set of four butt plugs, that went from a rather small and petite looking plug, up to a very thick and scary looking monster. I also bought a soft and flexible pink dildo that was only about 5 inches long, and about a half inch in diameter, but very lifelike other than the color. I also bought a bottle of lube while I was there. I really had no plans on anal sex, but wanted to see what being plugged was all about. I went home, and searched the internet for information on beginner anal play, and found lots of information. The search also led me to a few sites that were big on bondage implements. That got me thinking, and that might have been a bad thing. I bought a leather gag that had a thick penis shaped gag, a spreader bar, and some wrist cuffs. I don't know why, but I thought at them time that maybe a bit of self-bondage might be fun. On another trip to the world of the internet, I stumbled on the idea of adult babies. Now, I didn't think I wanted to wear a diaper. It was sort of a sexy thought, but once I had diapers on, and peed, what next? The idea, though, that being a baby was the most helpless, and most dependent you could get, sort of stayed with me. At the time, I didn't see the appeal, and passed on the diapers and plastic panties, but did buy a pair of baby pink and a pair of baby blue satin mittens. These were the sort that had elastic on the wrists, and no thumb or fingers, and a thick padding between the inner and outer satin layers which would render hands useless. Yeah, you could tie the ribbons at the wrist, but if I just slipped them on, it might be fun to feel helpless. I also bought a couple of satin baby bonnets, again, one in pink and one in baby blue. In the meantime, I began to practice with the plugs. I found the small one would go in rather easily, and I could keep it in for a few hours before discomfort set in. Taking it out seemed to hurt worse than putting it in, so I didn't leave it in that long, the next time. I moved up to the next size in the four plug set. That one took a bit of work to insert, and I only left it in for about thirty minutes. That got me thinking, and the next evening, after giving things a chance to rest, I experimented with the pink dildo. Wow! It slid in without too much effort, and the feeling of that rubber cock sliding in and out was great! I decided to look for one that was a bit larger, and truer to life-size. Back to the internet, and I found a dildo that seemed to be just a bit bigger. I stayed with that translucent pink color, as it looked so un- masculine. I also spent some money at the Birchplace Shop for a pair of pink and a pair of blue satin panties that had very stiff glass silk ruffles around the leg openings and waist, and I paid a bit extra for a lace trimmed hole in the back. I wanted to feel fully wrapped in satin, my manhood hidden the next time I used a dildo on myself. Two weeks went by, and my new dildo and panties were in. I quickly put on my white stockings, white ankle socks, garter belt, new blue "naughty" panties, and training bra. Deciding to go whole hog, I buckled my ankles into the spreader bar, slipped the cuffs onto my wrists, and knelt on the bed. After using lots of lube, I began to work the new dildo into my back door. This took some time, and hurt a bit, but as I was going slowly, I managed it. I pulled the rubber glove off my left hand, and using my teeth, slipped my hands into the restraint mittens. I quickly pulled them off again, and grabbed the penis gag, and after putting it in my mouth, buckled it at tightly as I could behind my head. The baby blue satin bonnet was next, and hid most of the gag harness, and looked sort of innocent and cute. Now, it was almost impossible to put the mittens back on, but I managed it. Gagged, plugged, and play-restrained, I looked at myself in the full length mirror, and almost came on the spot! I looked sexy, at least to myself, and I felt so submissive, and so sexy! I finally allowed myself to masturbate, and came all over the place. Yep, time to wash the sheets, the mittens, the panties, and, well, everything. I knew that I had to have more, and soon. It was about two weeks later, and I was going to head back to the adult book store. I promised myself that I wouldn't wimp out, and would at least play with another man's cock through the glory hole. I started my Saturday morning out with a bath and a good hair washing, with some perfumed body wash and matching shampoo. A quick pat dry, a bit of body lotion in the same fragrance, and it was off the "pink room," to get ready. While I was waiting for my hair to dry, I repainted my toe nails, and then, without any real thought, began to file and shape my finger nails, and then to paint them in the same baby pink as my toes. I closed my eyes, and let my mind wander as I sat there in my satin robe, with freshly painted nails, and just breathed. Finally, after about 45 minutes, I came out of my little trance, and found my nails to be dry. I grabbed a brush and began to brush my shoulder-length blonde hair. I must have been at it for about 15 minutes, and when I looked in the mirror, it was shining like the sun. My hair looked almost identical to my mother's, which was no real surprise, as that was what I was going for. For the trip over, I put it into a low pony tail. As I stood at the closet door in the pink room, I stared longingly at the dress that had just been delivered the day before. It was a beautiful confection in pink satin. This was a beautiful dress with high ruffled collar, long sleeves with a bit of material at the shoulder to make them stand out, white satin and organza pinafore with lacy shoulder straps, wide white satin sash, a white satin bow at the collar and pink satin bows on the apron. I also ordered a full set of noisy crinolines in white with pink lace trim. On a whim, I also ordered it with a locking loop at the collar, you know, just because... But, the dress would wait. I really couldn't wear it to drive across town. Well, I could, I suppose, but my courage meter didn't go that high. I slipped off my gown, and decided to go back the pink lingerie that I wore on my first abortive trip. Pink lacy garter belt, white thigh-high stocking with large satin bows at the top, pink satin panties and training bra made up my outfit. At the last minute, I grabbed a lacy white choker and wrist length white satin gloves that I had taken to an alteration shop to have a lacy ruff added to the wrists. These went into a little pink satin bag along with my pink lipstick, little lacy ankle socks, and a ten dollar bill to cover entry into the arcade area. Baggy shirt and sweat pants went over all, and then I got silly and put on a pair of black patent Mary Jane flats that I had found at a second hair store. What the hell, in for a penny, in for a pound! When I got to the store, I found the parking lot heavy with cars and trucks. I parked in the back and made my way to the door, my heart in my throat as I was sure that my finger nail polish and little girly shoes could be spotted for miles! Once inside, when I paid the man the ten dollars and he barely looked at me, just kind of said thanks, and buzzed me in. Once inside, I made a beeline for the bathroom right inside the entry, and slipped the gloves and choker on, sat down on the toilet and took off each shoe and slipped on the ankle sock, and applied my lipstick in the cheap steel mirror. Now, I had to decide whether to wear my hair down, or in a high ponytail. I decided on the ponytail, and adjusted my hair accordingly, exchanging a normal rubber band for a pale pink scrunchy. I spritzed on a bit of copycat perfume that I had found a discount store for a dollar, and screwing my courage up, I unbuttoned the top three buttons on my shirt, slipped on the short satin gloves and choker, and exited the bathroom. Now the arcade area had a large open area in the middle with a TV and some chairs, and then about a thirty cubicles down a wide hall, fifteen to each side. There were about a dozen men lounging on the chairs, half-watching the TV, and half- watching the door to see who came in. I got a long stare from this group, and a whistle or two! I made my way back to the hallway, where men lounged in the doorways to about half the booths. I slipped into a booth about ? of the way down, and took off my shirt and sweatpants, hanging them on the hook on the door. I then sat down on the little bench and waited with bated breath, and my cock as hard as a rock. I saw a shadow through the almost 8" glory hole, and then saw the flicker that told me someone was changing the channel on the video monitor. I put two shaking fingers through the hole, and was rewarded when a long thick cock poked through. I didn't want time to think, so I sank to my haunches in what I know now is called the "sissy squat," and got my first, close-up look at another man's cock. I tentatively kissed the tip, and then ran my tongue along the shaft. After a moment, I took the head into my mouth, and began to give my first blow job. After a few moments, my anonymous friend pulled his cock out, and I could hear his zipper go up, and figured that I had done a poor job, and had an unsatisfied "customer." Suddenly, I heard the door to my cubicle start to open. I froze, not knowing what to do. I found out later that if I didn't want any company, there was a little slide like the one on an airline bathroom door, that changed from green to red. Mine was still green. A soft voice asked me if I wanted to continue in person. It was very dark, as the movie on my screen had finished, and the screen was black. Nervously, I whispered back that I was willing. My new roommate then closed the door, and moved the slide to red. He undid the buckle on his belt, and I heard the zipper go down. Just as I grabbed his cock in my satin gloved hand, a new movie came on the screen, and the little cubicle lit up. I think we both jumped at the same time. The cock in my hand belonged not to some anonymous stranger, but Ron Jenkins, my boss! I stood up, still holding his cock in my gloved hand, and we just looked at each other. All I could think of was the humiliation of my boss finding me like this, and the totally conflicting thought that I still wanted to suck the cock that was in my hand. My brain just sort of locked up, and my mouth went on automatic. "Come back to my apartment," I heard myself saying, "We'll be a lot more comfortable." My brain just screamed at me, "What in the hell have you done? That's your boss! Run away!" Of course, I couldn't run away, as I would be running in just the frilly lingerie I was wearing. Even my car keys were in my sweatpants! And anyway, my boss had seen me, had seen the way I was dressed, and knew I had sucked his cock. There was no way to undo the damage that had been done, and deep down, I knew it, even though it horrified me. He looked me up and down, and said, "Okay, I know the address. Go home and get out of those sweats. I'll stop off for a cup of coffee, and give you about 30 minutes. Will that be okay?" Okay? No! That was terrible! I didn't want him in my apartment! I didn't want to do anything with my boss! But, if that was the case, why was my heart going 90 miles-an-hour, and my cock trying to rip through my panties? "I'll be waiting, sir," was all I could say. When I got back home, my mind was still spinning in place, rapidly going nowhere. I stood in the living room, and forced myself to calm down, and to do some breathing exercises. Once I was calm, or as calm as I was going to get, I made my way to the master bedroom, where I shucked off my sweats, and put them in their proper place. Then, I moved into the pink room. I stood there for a moment, and then made my decision. I was already in over my head. The man that held the key to my continued employment, and maybe to any future employment knew my secret. He was on his way over. Mr. Jenkins seemed to like what he saw, so I figured I would give him the whole nine yards. If I was going to be fired for being a sissy, then I would be a complete, over-the-top sissy. I stepped out of my panties, and put them in the hamper, and then pulled out my pink satin panties with the lacy hole in the bum. After I slid them into place, I took off my Mary Jane flats, and pulled on a pair pink high-heeled pumps with round toes. These were sold as "baby doll pumps.' I looked in the mirror, and decided that it had to be either my satin dressing gown or the new dress. After a moment's hesitation, I found myself pulling the crinolines on, marveling at how noisy they really were as the brushed back and forth. The dress went on over my head, and I pulled up the short zipper at the back. (I had found that if I hooked a bent paperclip to a string, and put it through the zipper, I could pull a zipper up, and unhook the clip a whole lot easier than trying to reach behind me to pull the zipper itself. Thanks YouTube video!) So, there I was. Pink high heels on my feet, white thigh-high stockings on my smooth legs, along with added white lacy ankle socks, my new "rear access" panties, new dress and crinolines were all in place. As a final touch, I pulled the scrunchy off, brushed my hair, and placed a pink ribbon, tied in a big bow in my hair. I touched up my lipstick, put my little satin gloves back on, and went into the living room to wait. I didn't have to wait more than a few anxious minutes when the doorbell rang. Sort of standing behind the door, I opened it, hoping it was my boss, and not a salesman! As I closed the door, I took a good look at Mr. Jenkins. He was about 6 ft. tall, and had a very athletic body. He was wearing a black polo shirt and khaki slacks, and looked good. He greeted me, and then sat down on the couch, inviting me to sit beside him. Smoothing my skirt, I sat down on the other end of the sofa. He turned to me, and just looked me over. Remembering my manners, I jumped up and offered him something to drink. He accepted a beer, and I got myself a glass of water. I poured him his beer, put a coaster on the coffee table, and sat back down. After a few false starts, he finally started asking me about myself. We talked for a long time, finally getting comfortable with each other. I found myself telling him all about my childhood, even to wearing and pilfering my mother's lingerie. I told him about my evolution into a sissy, and what I thought I wanted, as far as a relationship. In short, I told him I wanted to submissive to a man, specifically, him. When I finished, I looked at the clock, and was shocked to see that we had been sitting there for over an hour! "Well, sissy," he said, standing up, "Let's see what other dainties you have to wear for me." I stood up, smoothed my skirt down, even though it would never cover my panties, and led him into my pink room. I stood there while he looked through my drawers, murmuring little comments to himself. He finally turned to me and said, "Well, I think we may be on to something. Tell me, do you wear panties and stocking to work every day?" I nodded, blushing. "I like that!" He said, "It shows how girly you are. Do you have a sissy name?" I shook my head, no. "Hmmm, let's see," he said, almost to himself, "Candy, no, Heather, Cindy, Dawn, no, those all sound like sleazy stripper names. Your name is Carl, so I could call you Carla, but that's too close...I know! Your new name will be Amanda! Sissy Mandy!" I hope you like it!" I stood there for a moment, and then curtseyed (Something, again, I had learned how to do from You Tube, and had practiced in the mirror.) and nodded my head. Of course, he had seen my little collection of bondage gear, along with all my lingerie, nighties, and my other dress. Now, he came over to me and took my shoulders in his hands. Looking me in the eyes (lucky my heels were high, as I was only 5'3" in my bare feet to his 6") he kissed me! It was a long, lingering kiss, and when he pulled me into his chest, and slipped his tongue into my mouth, I just melted. I don't know how long we stood there, but as long as it lasted, I wanted it to last longer. I was in heaven, and new that, finally, this was where I belonged. As we kissed, his hands were roaming all over me, feeling my legs, and then sliding his hands up to my pantied bottom. When he found the hole in the back, he allowed his finger to caress my little rosebud, sending me to the moon! "Well, Amanda," he said as he broke the kiss, "I like what I see here. You see, I like being in charge, although I've only dated women up to now. I do like the occasional blow job, and guys just seem to do it better than women. Maybe they know what feels good by instinct. Anyway, from now on, you are mine. You will wear what I want you to wear, do what I want you to do, and do it when I tell you. I am your boss at work, and now will be your boss after work. Your body belongs to me, until I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?" I nodded, standing there on quivering legs. "I want to be sure you truly understand what I'm saying, Amanda, this will not be a game. You can't quit whenever you like. If I tell you to do something, wear something, buy something, you will not refuse, or you will be punished. You are my slave until I grow tired of the game! Now, tell me that understand what I'm saying. Otherwise, go into work Monday, and clear out your desk!" I was a bit shocked at the sudden turn of events, and stood there for a long moment. After a while, I looked at Mr. Jenkins, and dropped into a curtsey again, saying, "I understand that I am Mr. Jenkins' sissy slave. I will do anything you tell me to do or I will be punished. I am your willing slave, Sir." "Understanding what you have been told, it's time to prove yourself. Kneel by the bed." With those words, my new master took charge of his sissy. I knelt by the bed, watching as Mr. Jenkins went to the bottom drawer where I had placed my limited array of bondage toys. He took out the adjustable spreader bar and proceeded to attach it to my ankles, extending the bar to its maximum length. He then took my left wrist and pulled my arm to my side, and picked up a two loop strap. This had come with the spreader bar, and I had just tossed it into the drawer. He fastened the wide nylon loop around my thigh and my calf, and the smaller loop to my wrist, securing my hand to my side, and forcing me to stay well back on my knees. He then proceeded to remove his clothes. Standing there, I got a good look at his body, and his cock. He looked like the kind of man who spends a lot of time playing tennis and racquetball. He was very toned, with the kind of muscles that don't come from being a gym rat. His cock was massive, at least to my eyes. It was about 8 inches long, and fatter than the larger dildo I had played with. To be quite honest, it scared me, a lot! He sat down on the bed, with his legs spread, and motioned me to scoot nearer. I did so awkwardly, and was now kneeling with his cock only millimeters from my mouth. I didn't have to ask what to do next. Holding the base with my gloved fingers, I began to kiss and lick the large head, and then finally took it in my mouth. I worked it in and out, each time trying to take it a little deeper. Without any warning, he grabbed my head, and pushed me down on his cock, forcing it deep into my throat. He held it there until I started to gag, and let me back up. He did this over and over, each time telling me what a "good girl" I was, and that I had to get used to deep throating a cock. He must have been horny, because in a very short time, he grabbed my head and held it as he filled my mouth with his seed. I didn't know a man could ejaculate that much! It filled my mouth and started dribbling out the corners. I swallowed as best I could, and as his cock started to soften, I began to suck gently, not wanting to let it out of my mouth, wanting each and every drop of his precious cum. There was now no doubt at all: I was a sissy cocksucker! My master stood up, and patted me on the head, again telling me what I good girl I was. He got dressed again, and then told me that we were going to do some browsing on my computer. He undid my restraints, and helped me stand up. Once again, he held me, and kissed me, even though he had just cum in my mouth! My wrist cuffs were put on, and he clipped them together behind my back. He led me to my computer in the living room, and sitting down in my chair, made me turn to the wall as he asked me what my log in and password were, and then what sites I went to when I bought my sissy clothing. He then placed the penis gag in my mouth, telling me that I had to get used to my mouth being wrapped around a cock. I stood there for at least 2 hours with my back to the computer while he went through a site after site. My legs were on fire, as I had never worn heels this long before. Finally, he told me that he needed my credit card info, as he was about to place a few orders for me. He went back to Birchplace Shop, where I had stored my size information, and ordered me a pink onesie, suitable for a baby, along with some panties. I didn't know at the time what he ordered, though. Finally, it was on to EBay to a seller called Leanne's, where I had already ordered my two dresses from. He bought two more with my money. This was going to be a very expensive day for me. For the final item, he demanded that I turn around, then he pulled down my panties, and lifted my dress. My cock was still standing up, although it was pathetic compared to his. He gently stroked me, causing me push myself against his hand. Chuckling, he let go, and turned back to the computer. I saw now that he had a page open with, with, oh crap! Right there on the screen was a huge picture of a pink plastic chastity device! With an evil grin, he asked me if I wanted him to buy the chastity device for me. When I shook my head no, he laughed and clicked to another page. "Why then, Amanda, I'll buy you this one instead! I'm sure you'll appreciate the fact that it's made of stainless steel, and see this screw? It goes through a piercing, and then you snap the head off, making the whole thing permanent and never, ever removable!" I almost fainted, right there on the spot! I made all sorts of noises behind my gag, and laughing again, he went back to the pink plastic model, and clicked the "Add to Cart" button. "Now Amanda, I want to know as soon as this ships, and the expected arrival date. I expect you to place yourself into chastity as soon as you get home, and bring me both keys to the lock. I will inspect you at work the next day to insure compliance. In fact, I will expect you to present yourself to me, every day, for inspection. I want to make sure that you're wearing your pretty lingerie, stockings, and that your little nails are painted." He went on, "While I'm thinking about it, after we finish up here today, we're going to the mall, where you are going to have your ears pierced, and then we will have your nails done. Just a clear coat for now, but you never know what the future will hold for you. I think we will have your eyebrows thinned and shaped, also. You have such a pretty face, it's a shame to have boy's eyebrows." This was all going very very fast. In fact, maybe too fast! I started to hyperventilate, and suddenly, things got a bit blurry. I started to fall, and at the last minute, my master grabbed me, and eased me onto the sofa. He removed my gag, allowing me to breathe deeply. I started to talk, and he held his finger to my lips. I got the message, and relaxed into the sofa. He sat back down, and swung the chair around to face me. "Now, my little sissy, there are going to be some changes in your life. Some, you will like, some, you most definitely will not. I was going to have your ears pierced and get something discreet, but now it will be a bit more, shall we say, definitive. You are going to be a sissy 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. You WILL remain in chastity until I decided you have earned the right to orgasm, and afterward, you will go back into your chastity device. Now, I haven't played master to a sissy faggot like you before, so I'm going to have to do some research. For example, should I put you on female hormones? Should you have any surgeries to make your bottom bigger, or to give you a cute little set of titties? Maybe permanently tattooed lips so you never need to use lipstick? You see, these are all the little decisions a master must make." He paused, and looked around. "And another thing, should I have you redecorate your entire apartment to be a feminine little retreat? That would cost a bit of money, and I'm not sure if it's really the thing." A this point, my head was spinning around like a top. I couldn't think, couldn't speak, and just didn't know what I was going to do. At that point, Master stood up suddenly, causing me to start. "All right, Amanda, get up and let's get you changed." I awkwardly stood up, never realizing how useful hands were. He took off my cuffs, and led me back to the pink room. Once there, I was told to take off my dress and gloves. He looked me over and then told me to go to the other bedroom and return with a pair of nice blue jeans. I minced on tired legs and feet across the apartment, and returned with a new pair of Levi's. At his command, I removed my heels (thankfully!) and pulled the jeans on. I stood up, knowing that the stiff glass silk ruffles around the waist and legs of my panties were causing a bit of a bulge. When I mentioned this to Mr. Jenkins, I was told to "deal with it." He then went through my drawers until he found a training bra and camisole that matched. The bra was bought especially to match, and it was very lacy, and the camisole, as most of mine were, was more generic, just pink satin and narrow, but ruffled straps over the shoulder. I put them on, and he looked me over. I could see from the mirror that the ruffles on the socks were very visible, and started to ask if I could remove them, but thought better of it. He went to my closet, and found my pink Sketcher trainers, and told me to put them on, while he went to the other bedroom to find me a top. He came back with a short-sleeved pink shirt that I had bought to wear with a sweater, and told me to put it on, and not to tuck it in. I looked in the mirror again, and what I saw was a bit disconcerting, to say the least. My hair was still loose, with a big pink bow at the back, pink shirt that was just tight enough to see I had something on under it, slightly bulging Levi's, white little girly socks with lace, and pink trainers. Oh shit! I forgot about my pink nail polish! Was I going out in public like this? Finally, thankfully, I was told to lose the ribbon in my hair, and to put it in a ponytail. The final tweak, was that he grabbed a bottle of perfume and gave me a few sprays, and I was now led to the door. "Now, my little sissy," he began sternly, "I hope you appreciate that I let you keep a little bit of your manhood to leave the house. If you give me any problems today, we will come straight home, and we will go back out again, this time you will be dressed the way you were for me earlier. Is that very, very clear? You have the choice of looking a bit effeminate, or dressing like a total sissy, with a short lacy dress, high heels, and all the trimming, and I will lead you on a leash. It's your choice, sissy!" I thought for only a micro second before I curtseyed and said, "Master, I will dress as you choose, and will be a good sissy for you." (Although a curtsey in jeans and trainers loses a bit of its appeal.) We went out the door to his car, and I realized I had no money, no credit cards, and no ID. Master had my house keys in his pocket, and that was it. I was now dependent on my Master, after submitting to him only a few hours previously. Things were moving fast indeed! We got into his Lexus, and were soon flying down the highway. To my slight relief, it seemed we were heading to a mall some distance away from home. I quickly realized that this was a secret that both of us wanted to keep, well, he wanted to keep for a while, at least. About an hour later, we pulled into the parking lot of a huge mall. He got out, and opened my door for me, and I meekly followed him into the packed shopping mecca. Our first stop, as foretold, was a shop called Claires, where he told the young girl working there that his friend here, (me) wanted his ears pierced. The girl looked at me, and looked again. Her eyes took in the pink shoes, white lacy socks, the pink nails, and I know she smelled my perfume. With one last glance at me, and a smirk, she asked Master what earrings the "Little Girly Boy" wanted. The perused the rack, and within a few minutes, and tow sharp snaps of pain, I had two gold teddy bears in my ears. She gave me a sheet of instructions on how to care for newly pierced ears, and just before we left, she leaned in to me and asked me a question. "So tell me, girly boy, are you wearing pretty panties under your jeans?" I must have blushed bright red, but I nodded yes. "What about other lingerie?" I looked at my new master, and he gestured for me to tell her. "Uh, Miss," I stammered, "I'm wearing pink panties, a pink training bra, a camisole, white lace garter belt with white stockings and these little socks." Her laughter followed me out of the store. We next stopped at a kiosk in the middle of the mall where my eyebrows were shaped, again to the chuckles of the overweight young lady doing the work. As I stood up, she whispered in my ear that she loved my pink lingerie that she could see down my shirt, and the earrings looked darling. She patted me on the bottom, and told me that if I ever wanted to come over to her house and play dress up, I was welcome. Again, I must have been the brightest red in the world! I was then drug along to a huge, and expensive department store, where he bought me a bracelet, and an anklet that could be engraved. I thought I would fall through the floor when he told the lady that he wanted Sissy Amanda engraved on it, in pretty script. A couple of necklaces were added to the bag, and off we went to the ladies wear. Here, he bought me a cute white dress with red polka dots, which was made with some very light synthetic material, and had a very short pleated skirt. He also picked out a cute sundress in pale pink with a climbing rose pattern. I was feeling good, until he told me that I needed to try them on, and show him how they fit. The lady at the dressing room stand, looked me over as though I was some sort of terrorist, and then with a snort about it taking all kinds, let me in. I had to take off my camisole and bra to try them on, and was very embarrassed when I stepped out, and Master was waiting about 50 feet away. I had to walk over to him, and then he made me twirl to show him how the dress fit. Satisfied, he told me to go back and get dressed again, while he paid for the dresses. We then moved on to the lingerie department, where to my horror, he asked the pretty young sales girl to fit me for a bra! He told her I needed one for each dress. I reluctantly went into the dressing room with the dresses, and removed my outer clothes. I was just getting ready to take off my cami and bra when there was a light knock on the door, and the girl, with an armload of bras, just walked in! She stood, looking me over with a smile on her face, and then measured my chest. I just stood there in those oh- so-sissy panties and garter belt while she tried bra after bra on me. The worst part was the fact that I had a stiff hard-on the whole time, and she saw it! I know she saw it, because after placing one sheer and lacy bra on me, she reached down and rubbed the front of my panties, telling me I was just the cutest thing she had seen in her department in a long time! New bras, dresses, and jewelry in hand, it was off to get some lunch. I was confined to a small salad and water, while Master enjoyed a thick burger and a beer. After we had eaten, leaving me still hungry, Master must have wanted to humiliate me some more, as we made a complete tour of the mall. At every shop that sold dresses, we had to go in, and he would find something to hold up against me, "to see how it would look." Every shop girl knew what I was. Pink shoes and shirt, thin arched brows, little teddy bear earrings, and very feminine perfumed proclaimed my status as though in 4 foot neon lights. The final indignation was yet to come though. As we were heading down the last concourse, I saw a store that at once filled me with anticipation, and dread. Yep, it was Victoria's Secrets. Holding up nightgowns to my body, loudly asking what type panties I preferred, and making sure everyone in the store heard and saw. I was embarrassed. I was mortified. So, why then was my cock as hard as a board? Master ended up buying me a beautiful lingerie set. Cream colored silk with black lace trim. Panties, bra, garter belt, and two pair of sheer stockings. I was made to try on the bra, "just to make sure," and once again, the pretty little girl came in with me "to check." While she was in with me, she did a strange thing. She measured my waist, and my hips, too. I had no idea why, until I got dressed again, and saw them wrapping a white satin corset up. This was going so much farther and faster than I had ever dared to dream, and I still didn't know whether I wanted to stay on the ride, or run away. As we were getting ready to leave, Master asked me if I like the idea of a corset. I told him the truth, that I really didn't know. He then chuckled and told me that he just spent over four hundred dollars on me, and not once did I say thank you. "Not only are you going to be punished for that when we get home, I think I know something that we can do right now." Now, I was terrified. What did he have in mind for me? I wanted to run, but had no money, no ID, no car, and no way to even get back into my apartment! I hung my head and followed along to my destiny. We backtracked through the mall a bit, until we came to a very upscale ladies shoe store. He pushed me in, and whispered to me that I had to ask the lady for the highest heeled pink shoes they had in my size. I had also better be loud enough for the lady to hear. With a quivering voice, I asked, "Excuse me, Ma'am, but I need a pair of pink high heeled pumps, the higher the heel the better, in size 9." She must have been used to guys buying shoes, because she didn't even give me a second glance, just lead me back to a shoe rack. I picked out a pair of pink pumps with 5 inch heels, and little ankle strap, and she went to the back to find the right size. When she returned, I was told to put them on, and walk around a bit to see how they felt. Of course, they felt fine on the little chair, but I knew that walking in heels, especially on the concrete floor of a mall, they would be murder. I walked around a bit, and told her they were fine, sat down, and started to take them off. "What are you doing, Amanda?" Master asked. "Taking off my new shoes, sir" Scornfully he replied, "Put them back on, sissy. Part of your punishment is wearing those pretty new shoes out of the mall." With a sinking feeling, I slipped the shoe back on, and re-buckled the two ankle straps. My pink trainers were put in the box, and off we went, all the way back through the mall, my heels clicking on the concrete, letting everyone know a sissy was coming through. I really don't think more than a few people looked at us, and they really didn't "see" me, but I felt as though I were under a huge magnifying glass, being studied by the world! This continued all the way to the car, where once inside, I started feeling safe, or at least safer. We got back to my apartment, and Master opened the car door, and then the apartment door for me, like a gentleman. Once the door closed, however... I was made to strip down, removing all my clothes. I was then handed a little black lace trimmed, ivory satin thong and camisole set that Master had purchased at Victoria's Secret, my white sissy socks, and my new heels. I really didn't want to put the heels back on, my feet and legs were on fire! But, led on by my desire to submit, and my rock hard cock, I did as I was told. Master then had me stand at the foot of the bed, while he examined the bed itself. Nodding to himself, he cuffed my hands in front of me, and took a piece of rope, and tied it to the little chain between the cuffs. He then told me to spread my legs, and after adjusting the spreader bar to its widest, he again put my ankles into the nylon cuffs. He stood there and looked at me for a moment, and then making a decision, told me to bed over the foot board. He took the rope, and tied it off, very tightly, at the head of the bed, leaving me bent over the foot, with no way to move. I heard Master moving around, opening drawers. He knelt on the bed beside me, and told me to open my mouth. He then buckled my penis shaped gag, tightly into my mouth. I knew then I was in for an ass beating, and he didn't want me to scream. I was wrong, Master was a bit more devious. I felt my my thong being moved aside, and then a finger cold with lube was shoved up my bottom. He moved it around for a bit, and then pulled out. I was shaking with fear and anticipation, not really knowing what was coming. I was to find out, very, very soon. Master began chuckling, and suddenly I felt something hard against my little rosebud. Telling me to relax, so it wouldn't hurt as bad, he began to force a butt plug inside of me. "Oh," he said, almost as an afterthought, "Look to your left at the dresser." There, on the top of the dresser, he had lined up my butt plugs. There was the smallest, the next one, and, OH SHIT! The next larger size was also there, which meant that he had the biggest plug of all, the one that I had been scared to death to even think about trying! With a sharp push and twist, the monster of a plug was rapidly and firmly seated in my backside, accompanied by my moans and screams, all muffled by the gag. I was crying and drooling, begging and pleading, and the more I did, the more I got laughed at! My poor bottom was in agony. It felt as though I had a hot soldering iron shoved into me, along with the throbbing pain of a toothache! With infinite slowness, Master moved to my side, and undid the rope from my cuffs. But, just when I thought I was finished with this terrible ordeal, and already dreading the pain of the removal of the huge plug, he merely tied the rope over my head, around the top of one of the posts of the bed. This left me standing in my heels, ankles still locked in the spreader, and the plug still inside me. Telling me he would be back in a bit, he left the room, and I distinctly heard the front door open and close. Now what was I to do? Bound, gagged, plugged, in great pain, and helpless. It was a situation I had read about in forced feminization stories, and yes, even masturbated over, but when it was happening to me, it didn't feel quite so sexy. As I stood there, I was aware of the thick rubber cock in my mouth, and my suddenly very dry lips. I could feel the fire in the balls of my feet, and my calves from the heels, but most of all, I was more than aware of the plug that was filing my bottom, and acutely aware of the pain, and how much more it would hurt when it came out, whenever that might be. I spent the next thirty minutes in growing agony, both physical and mental. My calves were burning, and my poor bottom was in Hell itself. When I finally heard the door open, I went through alternating feelings of pure relief, and total dread. The door to my bedroom swung open, and there stood Master, a cup from Starbucks in his hand, and a huge smile on his face. He set the cup down, and began running his hands over my body, pinching my nipples, caressing my ass cheeks, and in spite of the pain, I found myself getting very hard, and wishing he would pay my cock, or cockette, or clitty some real attention. He eventually undid the buckle of the gag, and removed it from my mouth. Taking a tissue, he wiped away the drool, and told me to open my mouth, but not to make a sound. I did as asked, and he dropped two pills on my tongue. He then picked up a bottle of water, and made me take the pills. I had no idea what the pills were, but in my state of pain and pleasure, I didn't think, I just did as I was told. Within a very few minutes, I started to feel rather "wooly." My legs felt weak, and my head was beginning to spin a bit. Almost as though it was happening to another person, I watched as my cuffs and restraints were removed. I was helped to the bed, where Master pulled back the comforter and top sheet, placed a towel on the bed. He helped me lay down in a sort of fetal position, and then I felt the pain. As he pulled that huge plug out of me, I could feel distinct pain, but it was a dull ache, as opposed to the sharp, tearing pain I had felt upon insertion. The last thing I felt before the two Demerol knocked me out completely was Master removing my heels and wiping my poor bottom with some kind of cloth. I awoke the next morning, feeling very groggy, and very confused. As the events of the day before finally broke through my fog, I started to do a sort of mental inventory of my body. My calves and feet felt a bit tender, no problem there. My bottom ached a bit, and I moved my hand down, as I wanted to check for blood. My first indication of something a bit off was that my hand felt a bit, well, odd. I moved my hand out from under the covers, and found that I was wearing my pink satin fingerless mittens. Hmmm. I didn't remember wearing them. Pushing the covers down, I also found that I was wearing a pink nightie. Master must have dressed me in this after I fell asleep. Pushing the covers down further, I found that I was wearing, a... a, diaper and plastic panties! The Demerol that he had given me was still coursing through my system. I could see myself in the mirror, and what I saw was a big baby, wearing a pink satin nightie, pink baby bonnet, pink mittens, and lying in pink satin sheets. At that point, I just gave up, and drifted back to sleep. My last thought was that I had to pee, and... To be continued...