Jason s Day at the Pretty Boy Boutique Part 2
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Jason's Day In The Pretty Boy Boutique - Part 3 Of 4 free porn video
Jason's Day in the Pretty Boy Boutique (Part 3 or 4)
Part 3: In the Creaming Chair
Lunchtime came not a moment too soon for Jason: his knees would buckle at
any moment as he minced his way in his pink ruffled reins between rows of
petticoats, dresses and high heeled shoes back to the staff dressing
room, ordered from behind by Miss Presswell to keep his wrists bent, his
chin down and his knees tightly together.
"Take off his blouse and skirt," she told Kate once the door of the staff
room had closed behind them. "I've got a different outfit in mind for him
after lunch. In the meantime, put him into this." She passed her a pink
nylon overall the same colour as Kate's skirt, which Jason figured may
have been part of their boutique uniform.
The girl assistant released him from his reins and began undressing him.
She had the most divine perfume on, which she must have sprayed between
her breasts because it was when she almost pushed the cleavage of her
blouse into his face that it made him swoon. When he was wearing nothing
more than his bra, panties, white stockings and crystal pumps, she held
the pink overall for him to slip his hands into the sleeves and he stood,
his head hanging in shame, as she buttoned him down the front.
"I've got a special assignment for our sissy this afternoon," the
manageress told her, picking up her coat and bag. "I want him
entertaining some mistresses, but first he will experience the Chair,"
and she opened the door and disappeared.
Kate's eyes turned to Jason, who caught the look on the girls face before
she turned away. He knew he wasn't mistaken: it had been a look of
dismay, and it must have been out of pity for him. What was Miss
Presswell planning for him, he wondered?
"She's gone, hon," said Kate, whispering close to him; "you can relax,"
and the sound of her soft voice, spoken by those gorgeous, pearl pink
lips took a weight of dread off his drooping shoulders. What a nightmare
his day was turning out to be. How devastating it would be if Miss
Presswell went ahead, as she had threatened to do, and sent photos of
himself in his satin blouse and sissy shorts... with a hard-on... to his
friends on his Facebook page. And those women out there in the boutique;
they had used him for their sexual pleasure! He felt miserable, hopeless,
and a flood of tears appeared from nowhere and ran down his cheeks.
"Oh my little man," comforted Kate, her blonde hair falling in front of
her shoulders as she crouched over him on his chair and planted soft
kisses on the front of his blond hair. "And I thought you were loving
your first day at Pretty Boy. When I saw you in the lingerie department,
kissing a lovely sissy boy, your little peenie was so 'up'. I'm sure you
liked being sweet and intimate with him."
"Oh sure, I'm damn well going to enjoy being made to kiss another guy,
aren't I!" he returned, wiping away the tears that were still coming.
"It's Miss Presswell, you schmuck," his voice breaking into a cry; "she
tries to find the most humiliating thing for me and then makes me do it
again and again. Of course I'm enjoying it. Who wouldn't?" and he pulled
away and turned the back of his overall to her, just as the door opened
again and they were joined by Serena.
"Why, sweetheart," she cried, dropping into a crouch beside her friend,
"why those tears? We don't want you to be unhappy here at Pretty Boy, my
darling."
"No," said Kate, taking his hand and making him turn back to them.
"Sissies should be full of precious feelings in this lovely place."
"Surrounded by deliciously soft clothes and girls' accessories," added
Serena, taking his other hand. "But darling, you're fingers are so cold,"
and she stood up, unhooked her coat from the stand and spread it round
Jason's shoulders, the smooth lining slithering softly into place. Her
coat was blue, reaching to his hips, with a wide collar and three black
buttons as big as saucers.
"Don't worry about Miss Presswell," said Kate, looking up at him with her
big blue eyes. "She sounds fierce and she's dead strict about dressing
her sissies, but she would never do you any harm."
"She only ever dishes out a spanking when a sissy is naughty," said
Serena, her brown eyes surrounded by her blond bobbed hair, "and as long
as you do exactly what she tells you, she won't punish you at all. Your
little bottom is perfectly safe, don't worry," and she lifted Jason's
fingers to her lips and gave him a tender kiss, while Kate did the same.
It was certainly nice for Jason, having his hands held and kissed by two
beautiful 20-year-old girls who smelt delicious and had such drop-dead
gorgeous smiles. Maybe he wasn't as badly off as it seemed, in spite of
getting one shock after another in the things she was making him do in
front of women and petticoated boys. A silk handkerchief dabbed away at
his cheeks, thanks to Serena, and Kate lifted his chin to look them in
the eye.
"That's better, Jason honey," she said. "And we've got some soup for you
to have for your lunch to help you feel better. It's so nice for us
having a sissy with us at Pretty Boy."
"The best way to enjoy," explained Serena, "is to let yourself go. Feel
lovely, and the fear will disappear."
Jason felt a little bit better, as if he had a couple of friends who
would take his side if Miss Presswell got annoyed with him again. In
fact, he thought back to his horrifying experiences of the morning and
recalled the other side of his feelings... the softness and... the
loveliness of being so close to sissyboys. It was a whole new experience
for him, while filling him with buckets of shame. But he had no appetite
for lunch. Even when Serena poured croutons into his tomato and basil
soup, he could cope with only two sips. He couldn't even smell it over
the strong satin aroma of the flowergirl dresses that hung on a dress
rail beside his chair. And all too soon, Miss Presswell was back, her
beauty spots, badly hidden wrinkles and rinsed blond hair twisting this
way and that as she organised the girls.
"Put the sissy into pink stockings," she said, "with Cartier suspenders
and a brief panty that will show that pretty ass of his. A Cloud Nine
will do, with its matching bra. He'll be in open fronted paper taffeta
petticoats this afternoon and I'm going to pick a dress myself."
She took off her coat and Jason saw that she had changed her blouse and
skirt. In place of soft pink ruffles, her afternoon blouse was in crisp
silk, halfway between pink and cream. It had a full puritan bibbed collar
decorated with ruffled trims that radiated across its surface from the
neck, while above them, a starched cuff gripped her throat as high as her
jaw. Her long wrist cuffs were buttoned five times, nearly to the elbow,
with billowing sleeves that disappeared beneath her collar. Kate helped
her to button her blouse at the back. It disappeared into a deep belt of
black vinyl and a pencil skirt in a fine black and silver dogtooth
material.
Thank goodness she stepped out of the room once more as Serena fitted
Jason with his stockings and suspenders; he knew that his cock was
stiffening with the tight pull of his nylons. If Miss Presswell saw that,
she might get ideas about keeping him longer as her boutique sissy boy.
As Serena fed the little pink panty up his legs, a whimper of feelings
slipped out.
"Aren't they pretty, Jason?" she cooed with a grin, and moulded them over
his upright cock, taking care to feed the back of the gusset deep into
his bottom slot. The half inch of lace trim all round both legs
emphasised the pretty curves of his bottom.
He bleated another little whimper as he saw the length, or rather the
shortness, of the petticoats the girls were putting him into. The first
one had shoulder ribbons and a breast band which just fitted under his
arms, drawing together at the back with a three button fastening. It
burst outwards from the top in white material which was stiff enough to
sizzle when the second one went over it. this one had no ribbons: it
fastened to the top band of the first with little press fasteners, and so
did the third, so that his bare arms sank and lay hidden in the ruffles
of his taffeta petticoats. All three had a slit down the front, which
started three inches wide at the top and widened, with lace trimming down
the edges, until it was a foot wide at his hips. The girls were combing
the front and back of his hair when Miss Presswell returned with his
dress.
"Good, now put him in this while I remind our sissy-boy of his precarious
position."
Jason felt a prickle of fright at the back of his neck. She was at her
computer again, and instantly brought up his photographs as if she was
keeping them ready to use. But these weren't the same pictures as before.
Oh no! They must have been taken while he was being humiliated in the
sissy-suck chair by those awful women. He looked round, and Kate looked
away, then back to him with a sheepish smile of admission. The stupid
girl had taken more pictures of him while... oh no!... while he was
ejaculating in his sissy costume!
"I don't need to remind you," said Miss Presswell, letting her voice
growl with menace, "what my first step will be if you fail to behave like
a perfect sissy at Pretty Boy this afternoon. I don't need to, but I
will," and a click or two of her mouse brought up his Facebook page,
practically stopping his heart on the spot. "Fran Pickford, Georgie
Jenkinson..." She turned to see Jason's mouth hanging open. "They will be
the first of many to find your pictures online this afternoon." Jason's
voice shot out in an instant.
"I'll be a perfect sissy-boy, Miss Presswell... I promise most deeply.
You wouldn't send them if I'm perfectly behaved, would you?"
"Why would I do that?" she said. "I don't want to send them, Jason. It's
only you who would make it happen. Think of it as your finger on the
'Fire and Farewell button'."
Jason tried to swallow but his throat was a desert. He had nothing to
say; only duties to perform. Serena stood in front of him with his dress
and he put his arms through, relieved at least that his humiliation by
exposure on Facebook was in his own hands.
She moved him in front of the mirror to see the dress he was wearing.
Ohhhhh! It was... Ohhhh, he didn't know how to describe it. Surely he
wasn't going to be seen by people while he was wearing this? It was so
short, showing the bottoms of his petticoats, all of his panty and his
suspender garters. It flared from his armpits in all directions: he was a
girlie little dress on legs!
"Oh Jason, don't you look pretty!" he heard from Serena over his shoulder
as she did up his buttons down the back.
"Oh it suits you like a glove, hon," commented Kate. She plucked the
petticoat frills and the hem of the rose pink dress into an even wider
fullness.
He found himself amazingly pleased at their response, because he had to
admit... he did look good in the dress and panties. It was a sundress,
sleeveless but with pink shoulders trimmed in lace with a square neck. It
was open at the front from the yoke down and his bra and panties peeped
from his white petticoats. He gasped at a sudden thought... that he
looked like a little girl, dressing up like his mummy in ladies'
stockings and suspenders.
"Sit here, sweetheart," chuckled Serena, and she helped him to perch on
his chair again for Kate to present his shoes to his pink-stockinged
toes: a pair of delicate high heeled Mary Janes in white patent with a
single strap that fastened onto a big white patent button.
Miss Presswell stood waiting with her hand on the door handle, like a
policewoman ready to take her prisoner to the cells or worse, although a
faint smile played on her crimson lips. Did she realise how Jason was
believing more and more in the sweetness of his sissy feelings? He
thought so and wondered if she might treat him more leniently as a
result. "Come along, sissy boy," she said. "There are clients waiting for
you."
***
He felt differently than in the morning as he walked through the
departments, past women and sissies who turned to look at him. Their eyes
were full of admiration, he could see, and in any case, he felt what he
thought were the feelings of a girl who knows she is lovely. One of the
assistants was fitting a man with a bonnet to go with his girlie dress,
and she stopped what she was doing to follow him with her eyes until he
disappeared behind a display of petticoats. He was encouraged, and his
heels seemed to mince all the more willingly beside Miss Presswell...
until they turned along a corridor that he hadn't seen before and came to
an imposing door with a plate above it saying: "The Creaming Chamber".
Miss Presswell opened, led him in, and closed the door with her key. He
breathed a cloud of perfume, almost like incense, and was lost in the
darkness of floor long drapes. He was led forward, into the open, and
came to a settee where a man and a girl stood up to meet them.
"Good afternoon, Mr Ridge... and Penelope. This is Jason, our sissy at
Pretty Boy."
Jason got the picture in a flash, or thought he did. This was a master
and his sissygirl, and... well, goodness knows what he was going to have
to do if Miss Presswell was to be satisfied. The man was thirtyish and
overweight, with short black hair and a dark look on his face. He was in
a jacket and trousers with a white open-neck shirt. His sissy was about
Jason's age or a bit older, with blond bubble curls all over his head and
pink ribbons at each ear where blond ringlets dangled almost to his
shoulders; a proper Shirley Temple. His dress, in a normal size, would
belong on a toddler, in pale blue satin with a Peter Pan collar trimmed
with lace and puffed sleeves, while the dress spread widely over frothy
petticoats and had a gathered frill all round its hem, leaving a glimpse
of frilly panty at the tops of his legs. He was a complete sissy girl. If
it was a boy, that is. It was so girlish it could have been a real girl!
"Jason has something to say about his lateness," said Miss Presswell. "On
your knees, my boy," and her hands pressed on his shoulders and weighed
him to the floor. The man and sissy sat down again. What was Jason to
say? He would have to do his best. The man had a look of brooding
annoyance about him and Jason's spirits nosedived.
"I apologise for keeping you waiting, sir," he said, kneeling with his
fingers intertwined in front of his pink panties. "It was my fault, sir.
I'm so sorry." He stopped, and hoped he had said enough. He was trying to
avoid looking at the pretty sissyboy, who he knew was watching him
closely.
"Hm. Your fault, was it?" Mr Ridge said. "So you must be punished." His
voice was deep and hard, and would have fitted well in the throat of a
cruel lord and master. "Your hands," he said, reaching forward, and as he
gripped Jason by the wrists, slid him towards him on his knees and
dragged him across his lap. Jason gave a yelp of surprise. "Hold his
hands, Penelope," he heard as he realised that the back of his panties
were high in the air, and the sissy's shiny pink Mary Janes appeared in
front of him as he felt his hands being caught and pulled out in front.
SMACK! SMACK! SLAP! SMACK! A tattoo of smacks peppered his panties,
hurting so much he couldn't help but try and wriggle his buttocks out of
the way. The spanking went on and on, until every part of his bottom had
been punished. And almost as soon as it began, Penelope stood back and Mr
Ridge was lifting Jason to his feet again.
"So this is Jason?" he said to Miss Presswell. "He's cute. I like him.
He'll be just right for Penelope in the Creaming Chair."
"Yes, I think so, once the two of them have made a closer acquaintance.
Jason... this is Penelope, Mr Ridge's stepson who deserves to be a sissy
girl, and she is here to learn how to use the Creaming Chair also."
"Which will soon grace her bedroom for sissygirl visits," said Mr Ridge.
"Penelope, take Jason's panties down and show him some affection."
Jason was trembling, in his arms and his knees, as the sissy girl moved
up to him, caught his eye and managed a smile. He smelt very sweet and
his fingers were cold as they slipped inside the front of Jason's
petticoats and found the waist of his panties. His curls sank lower and
lower until he was threading Jason's panties down, leaving him in a state
of vulnerability beneath his dress. He slipped them over his white Mary
Janes and dropped them onto the settee.
The sissy rose to his feet again, this time with his eyes cast down, and
his fingers toyed with the pink lace trim at the heart of Jason's dress.
"I think your dress is adorable," he said, and the soft emotion he put
into the final word told Jason that he was telling the truth. The pretty
face descended in its blond curls, turning slightly to one side, and
planted a dainty kiss on the lace where the front of Jason's dress
separated. His fingers spread over the shoulders of the dress, slipped
lower on both sides so that he drew him closer, until his fingers found
the buttons down his back. Jason held his breath. He heard Penelope's
words breathed rather than spoken. "Can I kiss you, Jason?"
One of Jason's trembles coincided with his answer, so that it came out as
a voice rather than a whisper: "Oh yesssss." His dress and petticoats
gathered more closely round him in Penelope's arms, and he closed his
eyes, hoping that those girlish lips would arrive on his.
They did, in a petal soft touch, which pressed more warmly, until Jason
wanted to part his lips and accept them, they were so loving. His fingers
found Penelope's waist beneath his petticoats and he felt the caress of
the sissy's hands feeling his dress buttons lower down his back until
they were pulling his waist... and his helpless cock... into the caress
of his own panties. How soft and lingering their kiss was. How girlish in
its intimacy and sweetness, because Jason felt sure he was kissing a
girl.
"Okay, okay," he heard from Mr Ridge.
"You can kiss each other more once Jason is in the chair," said Miss
Presswell, unsmiling but not severe either. Jason had a nice feeling that
she was pleased with him. She took his hand while she operated a remote
in her hand, and a set of curtains pulled upwards and outwards on cords,
revealing a big pink chair.
Ohhhhh, Jason loved it at first sight. All pink satin cushions and here
and there a glimpse of the gilded frame. Out of the corner of his eye he
caught sight of Penelope's reaction, which was to put both of his hands
to his face with a surge of emotion.
"Come along, Jason," said Miss Presswell, "it's no good looking at a
chair. You have to sit in it," and she turned him round so that the backs
of his knees came to rest against a cold cushion. The next thing he knew,
he was sinking deeply into it as swathes of precious perfume seemed to
ooze from each cushion. "Put your hands here, one on either arm," she
said, and drew a gold strap from the back of the wrist to wrap it over,
slot it into a hole and buckle him shut. He sat obediently, feeling like
a captive girl, as there were straps for his ankles and knees, and
finally above the pretty top of each of his stockings. She arranged his
dress around him, with his divided petticoats a few inches apart and his
penis standing pertly upright between them. A flush of embarrassment
warmed his cheeks, and he wanted to hide the fire of his feelings for the
sissy Penelope... but he couldn't cover it, and there it stood in
evidence.
"Looks great," said Mr Ridge in a growl, and it was then that Jason
realised that the man was in nothing but his shirt now, with a vigorous
cock looking stiff, even rampant, maybe due to Jason's appearance in his
pink open-fronted dress. It was a shock to him, for he suddenly realised
that Miss Presswell might allow the man to do anything with that solid
cock of his. He wriggled, trying to free at least one hand, but he was
thoroughly secured. His desperation came out as panic. "No, don't touch
me," he cried, managing to lift his shoulders one by one. "Help me, Miss
Presswell. What is he going to do to me?"
The Manageress was not happy. "Stop that noise," she said, her face like
a strict school ma'am. "You'll spoil the pleasure for Mr Ridge." She
stooped to a drawer in a nearby table and produced a ball on straps.
"Open," she ordered, and the hard rubber ball went into Jason's mouth and
opened it even further, so that he gagged and dribbled as she pulled the
straps behind his neck and buckled them shut. He begged even more, but
his words were muted and unintelligible as she operated the chair and
raised it with silent movement. At the same time Jason found that his
legs were parting, his knees were rising, and he finished with his feet
spread widely.
He knew it was useless to complain, but he tried. What would happen next?
He found himself faced with Penelope, looking scared, but more attractive
than ever. The boy - or sissy girl - was having his panties removed by Mr
Ridge, who was giving him instructions and holding him in front of the
chair, his little penis stiffened in front of him, an inch or two above
Jason's.
"Kiss his sissy clittie," he heard between his gurgles of panic. "Clittie
to clittie."
Penelope did as he was told, leaning over him between his legs and
resting his hands on the cushion behind Jason's hips, so that his dress
hung forward. He couldn't see what he was doing, but he explored, his
thighs finding their way between Jason's parted legs, and then their
clitties touched.
A hum of feeling came through his ball gag as their stiffened penises
slipped to and fro, found their partner and pressed together. He felt
himself stiffen more with desire. This was so lovely. If Penelope hadn't
kissed him moments earlier he couldn't possibly have felt so affectionate
towards him now.
Then he felt a glow of loveliness. Ohhhhhhh, what a beautiful feeling, as
the sissy's cock seemed to pump up and down on the front of his own. He
felt Miss Presswell spreading the back of his dress and petticoats under
his bottom, then he felt her finger between his buttocks... but was it a
finger? He lurched as a puffing sound accompanied a cold shot fired into
his anus: cold and wet, as Penelope's penis continued its stimulating
caresses of togetherness. Then another puff, and a flicker crossed the
sissy's face above Jason as he pressed on but with a bite of his pretty
lower lip. Then Mr Ridge came into view over his sissy girl's shoulder.
"Lower down," he said, towering over his sissy's dress and holding him on
either side of his waist. "Down here... down... in there."
Jason was robbed of his sweetheart's penis against his own, but rewarded
with it somewhere else, for his bottom felt its pressure as the helmet
found his rosebud. He gulped and moaned into his ball, looking into
Penelope's eyes, wondering if he felt a desire to penetrate him as a
sissy boy. His hands clenched into fists in their golden straps, and
Penelope's helmet pushed its way inside, then slid deeper, his mouth
opening and his eyes closing with pleasure. For a moment he stayed there,
but then drew back a few inches, bringing a moan from Jason, followed by
another as he slid deeper.
Behind him, Jason saw Mr Ridge, gripping his sissy round his dress. He
chose a moment when Penelope was deep inside Jason, planted his own huge
organ between the sissy boy's cheeks and forced it into his sexual
passage. The boy's face froze, then relaxed, and his mouth stayed open as
whimpers of emotion were forced from him in time with his master's
movements.
A ticking sound began. Miss Presswell had pressed a switch in the base of
his chair, and Jason felt its rhythmic vibration. "Push in with each
beat," she said to Penelope. "Don't worry about your master; he can match
the rhythm of your bottom."
A swell of pleasure grew again for Jason as the sissy above him pushed
and drew and pushed and drew, made all the more exciting by the panting
above him and the open-mouthed look on Penelope's face. Jason sat
motionless, relaxed, and accepted the surrender that was forced upon him,
until suddenly the sissy's breaths became bleats of helplessness, then
wails in rhythm, until he moaned out loud and Jason felt a spurt of
liquid inside the deepest part of his anus. Such sweetness... and
togetherness... the thrill of being loved by another sissy, and Jason's
passion surged for Penelope, into his cock, which squirted onto the soft
belly of the sissy boy as he looked down into his eyes. Then a roar came
from Mr Ridge as he pushed and pushed inside his sissy's bottom.
It was followed by quiet, and Penelope bent forward and rested his curls
on Jason's fringe, spent but deeply affectionate. In that moment, Jason
knew he was going to feel lovely in his sissy boy dresses, kissing and
caressing the sissies he would meet in Pretty Boy.
"So what do you think of the Creaming Chair, Mr Ridge?" asked Miss
Presswell as she presented him with his trousers.
"I'll take it," he answered, "and that boutique sissy boy can come round
any time and help us use it." Miss Presswell chuckled. "I'm afraid not,
sir, although to his credit, he demonstrated it quite well." Jason felt
like kissing Penelope goodbye as Miss Presswell fed his panties up his
stockings, but his master pulled the boy towards the door and he didn't
even get the chance to wave. He did feel a heart-warming glow that Miss
Presswell had praised him for being a good sissy, and as soon as he
stepped back into the staff quarters, he was hugged by Kate first and
then Serena.
Oceana
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