Pleasures At Dressing Manor - Part 7 free porn video

Pleasures at Dressing Manor - by PRIM The story so far: Young teacher Miles Johnson has tried his best to rescue his pupil, Lyndon Blonding, 18, from the sissifying plans of his spiteful stepmother, Vera Hidebotham, who aims to turn her stepson into a girl. His Headmistress, Alison Forceman, accompanied the young teacher to the boy's home, Dressing Manor, outwardly to help him but secretly in league with Vera. The two males have been fed the feminizing drug Fem-Agra, so that they have become addicted to girls' clothing and have suffered embarrassing changes to their bodies. At Dressing Manor, a group of overwhelming women bring out Johnson's passion for little girl dresses. Both he and his pupil, Blonding, are to be subjected to the final step in their transformation: the ceremony in which they will be girled. The males: Lyndon Blonding, 18, a delicate student. Miles Johnson, 24, slim and modest, a newly qualified teacher. The women - all of them big busted, wide thighed and hateful of males: Vera Hidebotham, 38, brunette, stepmother of Lyndon and owner of Dressing Manor. Alison Forceman, 42, blond bobbed hair, Headmistress of St Ursula's School. Doctor Jessica Harding, 45, blond perm, very large, conducting un-sexing treatment. Councilor Barbara Welting, 65, silver hair, spectacles, a keen corporalist. Arabella Widely: 36, big and blond, dedicated man-hater Andrea Spitewell, 42, big busted and highly sexed. Gail Ampleweight, 43, pageboy blond, 140 pounds, similar to Arabella. Enid Feel, 30, the smallest, black hair to her shoulders, employed as nanny to Lyndon. Lucinda Heiffer, 38, very large, strong jaw, formerly Miles' landlady, now his nanny. *** Chapter 7: The Girling Ceremony Miles Johnson knew that his last moment of sanity had come as he tip- tapped behind the lavishly dressed women towards the chapel of this dreadful house. He had spent two hours being bathed, loofahed , smoothed and creamed by Lucinda Heiffer, helped by the beastly Gail Amplewaite who had toyed remorselessly with his reduced penis and kept him in a constant state of arousal. Ever since they had been fed such regular doses of Fem-Agra, of course, any release would be a long time in coming. There had followed an hour of make-up and dressing, and that awful message that had been brought to him as he sat in his white corset and stockings at his dressing table. My dear Johnson, I must not see you on your Girling Day until we meet in the Transgendering Hall. Enjoy these last moments as my sissified male: you will soon be my little girl, addicted for life to girls' dresses. Feel sweet in your panty cock and panty cunt. Contempt and mockery, Alison Forceman. It was from his Headmistress, the woman who had lured him here to Dressing Manor and destroyed every remaining evidence of his existence. As far as the outside world was concerned, he was no more and would be forgotten. And now he was approaching the worst, most dreadful moment of the whole thing. The time had come for his girling ceremony, for him and for his wretched pupil, Lyndon Blonding. His small, defenceless penis was mercilessly controlled by the three women in front of him: Lucinda Heiffer, his governess, Gail Amplewaite and Arabella Widely, towing his penis inside his white gauze panties with their long white ribbons as they click-clacked across the black and white tiles of the entrance hall until they came to the polished wooden archway of the chapel door. Above it, a beautifully scripted message in gold letters on a temporary placard announced: The Transgendering Hall. His eyes brimmed with tears; his heart pattered with fright at whatever was going to happen next, and his whole groin ached with sexual desire on account of his dress and panties. He looked down again at his little white satin bust with its three pearled buttons. From it, the wide rosette of his dress collar rose in a stiffened circle from his breasts to behind his ears and cupped the back of his hair. The skirt spread no wider than fifteen inches from his waist, scattered with white and silver leaves within its overlayers of white tulle, and his white stockings pulled hard on the garters of his narrow white corset. His hands, of course, were nowhere to be seen, wrapped behind him in a single, elbow-length bag of polished white kid that Lucinda had taken ten minutes to fasten with buckle after buckle. His memory of it overcame his feelings, and he spluttered into helpless tears as he planted his high heels and tried to pull back. "Ahhhh, dere's a poor, upset little sissy," pouted Gail as the three women turned to see him, held him tautly on his penis ribbons and grinned with amusement. "Are you just realising what's going to happen to you, Johnson?" smirked Arabella from beneath her wide, white hat. She stepped closer to him, folding her ribbon into one hand, opened her white patent purse and took out a handkerchief to wipe the runs of tears from the wretched teacher's cheeks. "Little Mr Johnson is going to be turned into a girl for us all to play with. Any minute now," and she lifted her shoulders in a mock giggle of delight. Miles Johnson cried all the more. Somehow even his emotions had become fragile and girlish, and his wailing gushed out of him in gulps and screams. Arabella enfolded him in the huge bosom and big white collar of her summer dress, all floral purples and greens. She wrapped his dress collar to his face in her gloves and clasped him round the back of his arm-sleeve. "You've got to get used to crying, pet," she said, drawing back to show him her beautifully made-up face and lipstick: "I think you'll spend a lot of every day being very, very upset." This didn't help the sissified teacher's fears and he burst out again with a plea from the bottom of his heart. "Oh ple-e-ease let me go-o-o- o... let me go ho-o-ome," and his wails deepened without any prospect of a let-up. He was so loud that Councillor Welting pushed past the others in the doorway and came back to see the sissy. Her dress was in lime green with white polka dots, very wide skirted over layers of petticoats, with a white bolero top and white hat. "Is he suffering a tissy fit of nerves?" she said, her face made up beautifully for a woman in her mid sixties. "Here, if you need to keep him quiet from time to time, use this on him," and she produced a large pacifier in yellow plastic from her purse. "We like to hear them crying, of course. The other one in here has been raising the chapel roof, giving us all a good giggle for the past ten minutes, but we've got him pacified now." Arabella presented the big teat to Miles's grumbling mouth and forced it between his teeth. It had elastic at one side of the disc, which she wrapped round between his neck and dress collar, and clipped it to the other. The wide-eyed shock that looked over the pacifier rim made the four women laugh. "Are we ready to bring him in?" asked Barbara, adjusting her feathered hat in her silver hair. Arabella stretched her ribbon again and pulled it so that all three ribbons tensioned on his penis. "He's as ready as he'll ever be," said Lucinda, and Barbara led the way into the chapel. The air filled with organ music, a rousing Here Comes the Bride, and the pull of his ribbons compelled Miles Johnson to click-clack his way into the chapel with Barbara Welting closing the door behind him. The fragrances that met the tearful, sucking sissy were a head-spinning mixture: tall arrangements of flowers stood in each of the net covered windows round the circular chapel, while his nostrils were laced with the perfumes of nine women resplendent in their immaculate make-up and festive glamour. Inside the door, his heart dropped: Alison Forceman stood waiting for him in a candy pink mother-of-the-bride suit with wide, short skirt filled out with fussy petticoats. The white collar of her blouse in crystal satin overflowed to fill the bust of her jacket, while her face was framed in a white picture hat with face net and front satin bow. Beneath her hem she wore white stockings and white patent heels. Beside her stood Andrea Spitewell in a white organza dress that buttoned right down, worn with a white sun hat. The wretched teacher whimpered in front of his former Headmistress, his pacifier waggling in his mouth as he sucked in humiliation and shame. She didn't exactly smile at him; it was more of a sneer as she stepped forward so that Lucinda, Gail and Arabella could give her the loops at the end of his ribbons. "Thank you, ladies," she said with a gracious smile. "I'll take him from here. I've waited for this day for some time, when I lose a teacher and gain a little niece." They all laughed in a respectfully quiet giggle, and Alison led her sissified teacher forward with the ribbons shortened and her white glove down by her skirt. Her blouse collar was almost as large as the pink and white striped collar she had worn the day before and which had stiffened his penis in total subjection to her. Once again he was under the power of her attractiveness, wanting her to cuddle him and tell him to kiss her collar... and confess his desire for her blouse and costume. He was startled out of his dreams by a horrifying sight. In front of them, sitting on a pair of special seats, was Vera Hidebotham with Lyndon beside her. It was all her doing. She was the evil genius who had sissified her stepson and by doing that had drawn him into the fetish-filled web at Dressing Manor. She too wore a mother- of-the-bride, narrow-skirted suit in purple and white, with a purple and white striped blouse, a wide, sculptured hat with flowers and net and white accessories. She had a gruesome smile for Miles, then her lips parted to say: "Sissykins, you look lovely." His tears welled again. He had only to look at her stepson beside her, also sucking on a pacifier and looking at his former teacher with brows that drooped in misery, to see how 'lovely' he must look, for they were dressed identically. His face was surrounded by the collar of his dress, standing high behind his blond hair and forming a full circle covered in rows of scalloped chiffon. Behind each side of the collar, the puffed sleeves stood high but gathered to little bowed cuffs high on his arms as they disappeared behind him in his buckled arm-sling. The skirt of his dress was turned up from a high waist, enough to show his child-like penis peeping from his panty, with his ribbons stretched to a firm grip in his stepmother's lap. The suspenders from his corset were in white lace-covered, ruched satin and his white stockings were prettied with a floral pattern down to white patent high heels with a narrow strap above the ankle. As the sissies looked at each other, and guessed how they looked to the women, the eyes of both of them crumpled in misery, and they gurgled and sobbed in bitter crying through their pacifiers, to the quiet merriment of everyone around them. Alison Forceman led her sissy to his place, alongside Vera's, and they sat facing the other women in the coloured sunlight from the stained glass windows. A strap was passed across his waist and attached to the other side of his chair, and smaller straps were fastened over his ankles by Lucinda and Gail. The organ music ended, so that all that could be heard was the sniffling, choking sound of crying through two pacifiers. It drew everyone's attention to them, and there were "Ahhhhs" and "Poor things!" from some of them, while others tilted their wide hats to one side and gave a smile of sympathy as they shook their heads. It was time for Councillor Barbara Welting to begin the proceedings. Her heels tap-tapped across the stone-tiled floor until she stood in the middle between the four special seats and the row of women facing them. She had a little bouquet of white ribbon rosettes which she held with both hands, with white satin ribbons hanging almost to the knee of her skirt. Even though she was in her sixties, Miles Johnson found her extremely attractive through his tears. "Ladies," she said; "dear friends, we are gathered here today to enjoy a wonderful occasion for Vera and her sissy stepson, and for Alison and her sissified schoolteacher. I know Vera and Alison are very excited about the change we are about to make to the two former males. They have both told me in private little conversations - which I am sure they won't mind me sharing with you, their friends, today - that they can't wait to hug and kiss their sissies once they have become girls..." She was interrupted by a muted squeal from the two sissies sitting beside each other, sending all the women into a fit of giggles at the shock which this information gave their ex-male little brains. Barbara continued: "...and how they will enjoy teasing and tormenting them once their sex has been transgendered. I'm sure we will all wish them forward in this matter." The women opposite shared agreement and there was the quiet patting of gloved hands in applause. "Of course we all know, thanks to our education by Jessica, that even if the two wimps were to escape now, which they can't... but if they did, they have been on Fem-Agra so long that they couldn't reverse a single aspect of their feminisation, in their girlish minds, in their delicate bodies or in their rampantly sissified desires. So it only remains for me to pass you over to Jessica now, and she will complete the girling of the two sissified ex-males." The Councillor stepped back and her place was taken in the middle by Doctor Harding, tall and proudly built, although nothing like the size of Arabella Widely and Gail Amplewaite. She wore a lemon cire satin suit which rustled loudly as she moved, a white blouse with her collar and her cuffs showing, and a tall, starched, white nursing cap. "I'm glad to see everyone here," she said, with a calm smile as if they were sitting down to tea or something equally mundane. "I just have one of two preparations to make if you will bear with me." She turned to Councillor Welting, who held the Doctor's medical coat up for her to slide her arms deep into the sleeves. Once it was slithered into place, the Councillor fastened the buttons all the way down the back. The gown was in white cire rubber with a satinised finish and reached to her ankles, and by the time Barbara had buttoned it to the hem, Jessica had put on her face mask, in the same material, hooked behind her ears. Then Barbara held her latex gloves for the Doctor to feed her fingers into. When she was ready, she smiled to the two waiting governesses. "Ladies, I think our sissies would like to see the Girling Chair." The women opposite sat forward and watched the helpless ex-males for their reaction. Miles Johnson felt as if his heart had sunk into his high heels, as Lucinda and Enid drew back the velvet curtains, and wheeled the heavy, Girling Chair silently out to where the Doctor was waiting. They locked it in place, side-on to both the rows of seats and facing back to the curtains it had come from. The whole unit was in a rose pink metal with PVC upholstery in a darker pink, and taken as a whole, it was the length of a settee. The chair itself was at one end, facing along the remainder, with a high seat about three feet off the floor and a solid metal base which hid what was underneath. A simple upright back had two upholstered arm rests, with leather strapped cuffs an inch wide for its occupant's wrists. There were similar straps on the seat to be fastened above the knees, and more at the ankles. There was not much about the chair to suggest anything fearful, but it sat there in the middle of the Transgendering Hall, and Miles Johnson knew that it meant a lot to the women who were going to put them into it. From its rear, a rack of shelves pulled out with all the necessary equipment, and once it was pulled out, Doctor Jessica Harding was ready to girl the sissies. She turned to Vera with a broad smile and spread her arms wide. "Shall we start with Sissy Blonding?" Vera jumped to her feet, her face alight with excitement, as Enid and Lucinda unfastened the straps that held her stepson. The 18-year-old became very vocal, or would have done but for the pacifier in his mouth. He did his best to resist the wishes of his stepmother, stooping and pulling, but he had no hands to assist him so his collared face simply went up and down as he was moved inevitably towards the chair that awaited him. He tried to plant his feet, but he was wearing high heels. All four of them were wearing high heels, but his stepmother and the governesses knew how to brace their feet with a view to strength and security. He stumbled twice as Miles Johnson watched his struggles with anguish. The boy did manage to spit out his pacifier though, so that he could cry out his resistance. "No, Stepmother, don't do it... Let me be a boy... a man! I've got to stay a boy!" They had his bottom on the seat of the chair as he straightened his legs to resist. "I promise you I'll be a most obedient son, stepmother... a perfect son... please." His teacher was hot with sweat as he wriggled his legs to try and get free. He had to help, but they already had a strap fastened across each of Lyndon's thighs, spread wide apart and were fastening his ankles immovably to the metal base of the chair. He wanted to call out himself, to beg on behalf of his pupil, but the teat of his pacifier filled his mouth and he couldn't open his jaws far enough to get it out. He started to grumble and chunter helplessly as his struggles became hopeless. There was nothing he could do. Lyndon Blonding was fastened back against the chair with crossed straps between his breasts, making them stand out in an alarming bust. All that he could move now was his head. But even that was held by both governesses as Doctor Harding brought out a white hood like a bathing cap which Miles could see was studded with a line of metal discs on the inside along the top of the scalp. As his head was held immovably still, Jessica took a lot of trouble to position the cap with precision, then wrapped a wide rubber chinstrap under his jaw and buttoned it tightly up the side of his head. It was further fastened in front of his throat, so that only the middle of the boy's face was uncovered from his eyes to the point of his chin. Miles Johnson immediately thought 'electrodes'. The boy was going to be programmed in some way, through his scalp and into his brain! The poor, innocent child. He struggled to force the pacifier from his mouth so that he could protest in the strongest possible terms, as Lyndon himself was doing through teeth that were gritted together in the tightness of his rubber helmet. "Stepmother... no... please... I'll be your darling stepson, dearest stepmother... I will... I will." His head seemed to bounce from one side to the other as he looked about him for help. "Ladies... can you tell my stepmother? Oh shit... Please someone... do something to save me..." He was approached by the Doctor again as Enid held his head still, this time to receive a much larger bonnet in white satin. As it was opened out to go over him, the helpless, watching teacher saw that it was made up of layers of pleated satin, all of which ended in frills around the front edge, while right inside was another row of electrodes, probably to match the first set. "No... don't put me into it... please, no..." cried the boy. "Oh pleeeeeeeease!" and as the bonnet was slotted between the back of Lyndon's upright collar and his rubber cap, the boy's head struggled this way and that in Enid's hands. Jessica concentrated on the fitting in the face of a desperate diatribe of blame and cursing, then wrapped the neck of the bonnet together and buttoned it shut, followed by a fat satin bow under his chin. There was a hush of expectancy, all the more noticeable for the sudden quiet in Lyndon Blonding. One moment he was loud and doing his best to fight: the next he was sitting perfectly still and looking straight ahead. The Doctor stooped a little to look in at him in his bonnet, and smiled. "There's a good sissy," she said, and took the hem of his satin dress in both hands and straightened out his skirt for him. "That's better, Lyndon. Now, shall we just give you a slow turn in your Girling Chair, so that everyone can see you in your Girling Bonnet?" There was a little "Yes please," from the helplessly strapped sissy, and Jessica pressed some controls so that the chair started to turn, in complete quiet, towards the row of women. "That's a good sissy girly," said Barbara Welting as his bonnet faced her. "Are you ready to become a girl for your stepmother now, dear?" "Yes please, Miss Welting." Over the last day or so, his voice had become high and light, but now it was a peep like a child... the voice of a little girl. As his chair turned, he got smiles and little waves from Andrea Spitewell and Arabella Widely, and a sarcastic "Oh darling, you look lovely," from Gail Amplewaite. As the chair brought him round to his psychology teacher, his crimson lips were working together in a girlish attempt to prevent his crying and a tear ran down his cheek. Miles Johnson wanted so much to give him encouragement... to apologise deeply for having failed to rescue him. How stupid he was to get himself caught up in this awful conspiracy of women who wanted to make the two of them suffer such irreparable harm. The chair clicked back to its starting point and locked in position. Doctor Harding was ready for its occupant and operated the chair in a forward roll. Lyndon's bonnet slowly arced forward until his skirt could be flipped onto his back and his panties were drawn down onto the tops of his stockings by Miss Feel. From a clear package in her fingers, the Doctor produced a white plastic plug, a phallus about five inches long and an inch and a half wide, shining with a wet coating. The governess placed her hands on her sissy charge's buttocks and separated them to open his anus, so that the Doctor could insert it into the boy's socket and slide it in. He produced a startled warble from his bonnet and his hands reacted with straightened fingers as the doctor wrapped the dildo's ribbons under his legs and between his buttocks to be secured with press fasteners to his corset. Miles was horrified. Mortified that the boy was being used like this. Abused by Doctor Harding as he watched her bring the chair upright again... with no apparent complaint from Lyndon himself, as the front of his dress was pinned up so that his dainty penis was exposed. The Doctor opened the base of the chair in front of the boy and raised a new section so that it turned back and revealed a shiny socket lined in ivory satin. Miles could see at once how it would work, as a hood for his penis, no doubt to vibrate in some wicked way and stimulate the hapless boy. But no. The Doctor closed the block so that it stood again in front of the chair. Lucinda was there, holding a padded figure, the size of a child... the torso of a child, which she fitted over the block so that it stood before Lyndon. Enid Feel was behind her, with a lovely little dress which she presented to the Doctor on a hanger. It must have been a dress for a little four-year-old: in purple floral silk. Ohhhhhhhh, Miles fell in love with it and wanted to reach out to it. He wanted to wear it as it slithered over the waiting torso so that it stood in front of Lyndon, who was bleating with longing in the same way. It had a small top with slightly puffed sleeves, and a big skirt spreading from the high waist, with a little lacy insert near the neck with a pretty satin bow at the throat. Doctor Harding smiled in at Lyndon in his bonnet as she fastened the back of the dress and spread the skirt with both her latex hands. "Isn't it lovely, darling?" she cooed. "It's for my favourite sissy, because you are being so good." "Oh thank you, Doctor," came from Lyndon's bonnet. "I'm going to let you feel lovely for this beautiful little dress. I'll lower it onto your little clitoris... so that you can love it personally and completely." "Oh yessss, oh yes please." Enid Feel helped the Doctor to pull the dress block forward again, the purple skirt spreading to reveal multiple petticoats which opened like a big flower, and there was the satin lined socket to receive Lyndon's eager little clitoris. The two were placed delicately together, then the dress was slowly brought upright again. There were cries of ecstasy from Lyndon Blonding as his penis slid deeper inside the dress as it was brought down, lower, into his lap. "Don't you feel feminine, loving your dress, sweetheart?" asked the Doctor. "Oh yes," came the reply. "Well now I'm going to make you a little girl, so that the dress can be yours, my pet." "Oh thank you... thank you, Doctor. Thank you so much." Miles Johnson was beside himself trying to shout out to Lyndon through his mouthful of plastic teat. His blubbering turned every hat in the room towards him with giggles of delight, but Lyndon didn't turn. He was loving his new dress. and suddenly a gasp of emotion escaped him as his penis socket and phallic plug came to life with ripples of pleasure. "Do you want to be a lovely little girl, dear?" asked the Doctor, now sitting opposite Lyndon on a stool seat that pulled out, and talking to him over the satin bow of the intervening dress. "Ohhhh yes please." "Good," and a surge raised the pleasure in the boy's sexual parts. "Do you want to be a girl in body and mind?" "Ohhh yes please... yes please... I want a girl's body." A girlish moan poured from Lyndon's throat and his bonnet pushed back into his stiffened dress collar, looking at the carved ceiling of the chapel, as pleasure swept through him, making his white high heeled feet slide outwards into a new extended position with his legs apart. "That is so goo-o-o-ood, darling," said the Doctor; "and do you want a girl's desires?" "Oh yes, I want to wear lovely dresses and look so pretty for the ladies." "And do you want to be a girl for ever?" "Ye-e-e-e-e-e-esssssss. For ever and ever. I want to be a little girl in gorgeous little dresses. Oh please, please, please." It was evident to everyone present, and especially to Miles Johnson, that the boy's body was receiving untold blissful sensations from his penis to his fingertips and from his bonnet to his high heeled shoes as they shook from the ankles in a paroxysm of sexual pleasure. Gail Amplewaite was chewing one of the fingers of her glove as she watched with shared emotion, and as Miles looked to the boy's stepmother to try and persuade her to end it, her face was a twisted grin of triumphant satisfaction, shaking with giggles. He turned to Miss Forceman, sitting beside him. surely she would step in now and put a stop... She seemed to understand his hope, his wish, for her netted face wore a curled grin of contemptuous refusal as she slowly shook her head. Then she brightened a little and spoke to him. "Wait patiently, you stupid sissy turd. Your turn will come in just a few moments." His hopes for Lyndon were crushed in two seconds flat. And worse, what was waiting now for him? He looked back to the boy, and a new little dress was hanging in front of Lyndon, suspended from an overhead rail and dangling on a hanger. A pink dress, with a little striped bolero top with a big white button on the front. The bolero was undone and removed, the dress was undone at the back of the bodice, and up it went to above head height, where it turned, moved to where the boy's bonnet was following it overhead, and slowly descended, with Lucinda opening its silk underskirts. The petticoats were spread around Lyndon's bonnet as he warbled with girlish delight, until the hem of the dress reached his waist and the whole of his bonnet was compressed around his head by the bodice of the dress. "You are being such a good girl, darling," cooed Doctor Harding close to the pink bodice, "I'm going to button you up inside this beautiful girly dress while I turn you into a girl. Isn't that sweet?" There may have been a smothered answer, but there was certainly nodding in the dress-covered bonnet. The Doctor fastened the three little dress buttons, enclosing Lyndon's upright collar, and drew the pink silk sash into a big bow at the back of his neck, spreading the dress out in a beautiful skirt. Miss Heiffer passed her the little striped bolero and it wrapped round his dressed head for her to fasten the smooth white button in front of his face. Doctor Harding turned to the boy's stepmother and smiled to her. "He's all but gone, Vera; just the last part of his conversion... the point of no return. Would you like to turn him on yourself?" Vera Hidebotham was out of her seat like a gazelle, her high heels rattling on the tiles as she arrived at Jessica's elbow, a picture of excitement. The doctor showed her the start button on the block with the purple dress, and she stood ready, drawing a deep breath and looking round her friends who were wishing her every happiness on this momentous occasion. "Well, girls," she said, lifting the veil from her face and spreading it over the top of her hat, "you know how long I've waited for this moment, to have him girled and utterly helpless for the rest of my life. It's what all males deserve, as you know, and this one has finally got himself right under our thumbs. I dedicate this girling to all of you who have helped me to bring it about." She placed her gloved fingers over the red button. "Here he goes," she said, and her fingers pressed the button flat to the metal and held it there to make sure. There was movement in the chair, in the dress socket at the front and in the phallus beneath, while the dress and coatee around the boy's head seemed to drag down and release up in a sort of struggle with his face. "He is experiencing extreme dressing and girlhood," said Jessica, raising her voice over the rhythm of the machine, "while constantly being asked if he wants to be a girl." A string of muffled gasps and cries escaped the dress covered head of Lyndon Blonding as his heels wriggled, his hands clenched and stretched and his dresses rustled around his movements. His words were smothered inside his bonnet, dress and bolero, but it was unmistakeable what he said: "Ohhh yeth pweathe... oh pweathe yeth... yeth, yeth... oh yeth I doooo." The tears were streaming down Miles Johnson's face as he saw the end of his pupil's chances of avoiding this awful fate. Alison Forceman sat beside him and turned his face towards her with gloved fingers holding his chin. "He's gone now, Johnson. There's no coming back from girlhood now for that prissy little sissy." She laughed and got hold of his penis in his panties, already stiffened, and masturbated him as he watched the shocking, horrific torture they were subjecting the boy to as they watched and giggled. The machine stopped. The dress was unfastened from the boy's head... or rather from the head of what was now a girl, and Lyndon Blonding found himself being unfastened from the Girling Chair, un-bonneted and un- capped. Enid Feel was there in her white governess blouse and a long black satin skirt to help him climb to his feet. His stepmother helped him as well, for he was shaken and weakened by his ordeal, and between them, they unbuckled his arm-sleeve and released him from its clasp. "Well, darling," she said, combing the top of his hair and fussing his ringlets all round his neck, "isn't it just lovely, being a girl in such a lovely dress and panties? Now you can be ever so feminine, and you will be dressed in frills and lace all day long." A hush descended on the women as they waited to hear what her stepson said. His face seemed particularly pretty and he held the sides of his dress as if he was only now aware of it. Then he looked at his stepmother and showed her the skirt of his dress, saying: "Look, thtepmother... my dweth hath luverly lickel pocketth. Aren't they cute?" There was an outburst of applause and delight from all the women. They stifled their noise when they could see that he was speaking again. "Pweath, thtepmother, can I alwayth have lickel pocketth on my dwetheth?" The women burst out laughing again and his stepmother assured him that he could, and Miles blinked away the tears that were filling his eyes at what had become of his poor pupil. How he had failed him. This was a most terrible result of his botched up attempt to rescue him when the boy had turned to him, his best teacher, to save him. Then Doctor Harding stood in the middle and called everyone's attention. "Ladies," she said, "we have a new little girl amongst us, which is lovely, but the Dressing Manor community would not be complete or happy without our second little girl." She turned to face Miles where he sat beside Alison Forceman, and every hat in the room turned to see the sheer fright on his face. His legs tensed, but were strapped at his waist and ankles, and his arms were useless behind him. A solid lump of dread filled his chest as he already knew that there would be no possible chance of escape. He shouted at them through his pacifier, mumbling his determination to stop them doing the same to him as had happened to Lyndon Blonding... who was now a different person. He could struggle better once Lucinda and Enid had unfastened his straps and got him to his feet. He wriggled and fought, but they were bringing him to the chair. It was like it was time for his death. His execution. His shoes were difficult, but he was going to spread his legs wide apart and stop them moving him. He bent double, his face in someone's skirt. Then he was on the floor, on his knees, with twenty pairs of stockings around him or so it seemed, getting him up on his heels again. He had to stop them as he saw Gail Amplewaite's white hat and rose pink dress at his shoulder, and Barbara Welting's green and white dress in front of him... then he felt suddenly weak, as though he'd lost something, and as they held him still for a moment, his urine spluttered uncontrollably into his panties and ran down his stockings. He was held as if in a straightjacket, with four women round him, as Enid Feel stooped in front of his legs, took off his panties and wiped his legs and genitals with them. The Doctor had a towel for her to use as well, and then they forced him, inch by inch, onto the Girling Chair, and planted him in the seat... fastening his waist... and breasts... then strapping his ankles, which the Doctor moved wide apart with the mechanism. When the women withdrew, he was weeping and helpless, unable to move the slightest part of himself except for his head. "Miss Forceman... Miss Forceman!" was his plea as soon as his pacifier was removed. "Help me, Miss Forceman... please. Pleeeeeeease!" His Headmistress was there, stepping into his sight alongside the Doctor. "Yes, Johnson? Is there something you want me for?" Her mascaraed eyes and carmined lips were a picture of sarcasm. And her friend had the white rubber cap in her hands. She was going to put it on his head! Two pairs of hands gripped him while the Doctor spread the cap around his hair. His nose was filled with the scent of rubber as her satinised white bust slithered in his face while she fitted it correctly. As soon as she had fastened it, he lost all sense of where everybody was. Then he could see the Doctor in front of him, her voice echoing and indistinct. Maybe she said: "Shall we put you in your bonnet, darling?" The bonnet. It was what finished off his poor friend once he was dressed in it. He had to resist. It was surrounding his head, his face, it was being fastened up his cheek and over his ear as he heard fingers sliding buttons through satin buttonholes, and he felt so pretty. What a beautiful bonnet, being buttoned at his neck also, so girlish, just for him. Surely this is how girls feel... so beautiful... so happy... so excited. In front of him, between his bonnet frills, he could see a little primrose dress with a big white square collar. Ohhhhhhhhhhh, he loved it at first sight. He had to have it. A voice was telling him it will be his when he is a girl... very soon... just a few minutes to wait. He must be a girl so that he could have the pretty dress. "Shall we start to make you a girl, darling?" "Oh yeth pleathe." His bottom felt cold, bare, and he felt a delicious phallic insert making his bottom full and ecstatic with feelings of sexual warmth and rosiness. It was so lovely, being a girl. And ohhhhhhhhhh, he was being allowed to make love to the beautiful dress in front of him. Blissful feelings, rising inside the yellow dress with the white square collar. His bonnet rose up under a little girly dress... a dress with white petticoats sewn into it... and it was closing him in... encasing him. He was inside a girls' dress - so beautiful, so sweet. And dear Dr Harding was making him girlish so that he could be blissfully dressed. Suddenly he found he was with Miss Forceman and he was her little girl. He loved her so much and he embraced her, his arms round her neck and her arms were around his back. "Come and sit on my knee," she was saying, and he climbed up and sat his bare bottom on the lap of her wide, pink skirt as she held him with her arms round his waist, facing all the ladies. Lucinda was there, and she had his dress with the lovely white collar, set on a display dummy so that it stood on the floor in front of them, but low down so that the ladies could enjoy seeing the girls. His clitoris was bare, and on show, and he felt ashamed in front of the ladies, although he didn't know why. Lyndon was next to him, sitting on his stepmother's lap, his legs open and his clitoris showing for the ladies. Doctor Harding stood by the Girling Chair, with the new girls and their mistresses to one side and the ladies to the other. "What a lovely, and very successful occasion we have enjoyed today," she said, and everyone applauded with expressions of "Wonderful!" and "Well done, Jessica." "But there is one more step to take for our new little girls. As you know, they can't possibly be called by the names they had as ex-males. Their puny little natures have moved much further on than that. Everyone giggled, and Jessica continued. "Vera and Alison have given their names a great deal of thought, and I'll ask each of them now to tell everyone how the girls have been re- named. Vera's and Alison's girls gasped with wonder, almost breathless with excitement. They were hoping for dresses that they could wear, but they hadn't expected to be given a lovely new name too. They struggled to contain their fidgeting as Vera looked past her stepdaughter's ringlets and announced: "Friends... everybody... this - and she gave her a cuddle from behind - is now my Wendy Frilly-Dress!" There were squeals and screams of delight from everyone in the room, so that the fragrance of everyone's perfume seemed to double with excitement. Wendy Frill-Dress! What an inspired choice! Jessica approached the new girl on her stepmother's lap and said: "A new girl deserves a new-little-girl bonnet," and she reached forward to pass a gorgeous pink bonnet sewn round with flowers around her hair, drawing it shut round her cheeks where the satin sides met at the point of her chin, and she did the ribbons into a fat, sugary bow. It looked so sweet inside the stand-up collar of her white dress, and its shiny pink ribbons draped down to her exposed clitoris with inverted V ends. The girl slipped off her stepmother's knee and stood, embarrassed but delighted, in front of everyone, her fingers clasping the flowered sides of her bonnet and her knees sliding together in pretty feelings... and she simply burst into tears of happiness. There were Oooohs and Aaaaahs from all sides and an outburst of chatter as they loved her new name and were thrilled at her reaction to being girly-bonneted. Wendy sat up on her stepmother's knee again, and Jessica called the chapel to order. "So now we come to Alison's little girl, who tried ever so bravely to spoil our fun..." There were mock growls and hissing. "But everything turned out happily in the end, as we can see. Alison is particularly delighted to have a new niece... and has chosen a lovely name for her, I'm sure you will agree. Alison?" Alison addressed herself more to her new little girl than to the women. "Belinda Girly-Dress," she announced. There was an outburst of delirious laughter, shared by Vera and Alison and of course Jessica, the Doctor. "Come to me, Belinda Girly-Dress!" she said. Belinda! How lovely! Belinda slipped off Miss Forceman's knee and skipped across to Jessica, which made everyone laugh, and was given a kiss on the lips by the Doctor. "I have something for you, pet, for being such a weak and soppy, completely helpless sissy-girl. Hold still for me, Belinda," and she reached behind her and turned back with a spread of white satin fringed with lace. She reached it round the girl's upright collar and arranged it over her shoulders, buttoning it shut down the back with four little glass buttons. "There we are, my darling: a lovely white dress collar!" As she stood back for everyone to see, they clapped their gloves with ecstasy at the effect: the collar was a complete circle, as wide as Belinda's shoulders, although the two inches of fabulous lace all round made it even wider, while across the front was a row of six little dresses stitched in pink and blue. The women laughed and laughed, and Arabella Widely almost cried. Belinda, in the meantime, felt so lovely in her new collar, she felt the lovely lace round the edge and her face lolled this way and that with gushes of girlish delight. Then, not knowing really what to do, she held the outside edges of her turned up skirt and curtseyed again and again to all the ladies, adding to their helplessness and pleasure. "Girls," cried Vera over the babble of delight, "or ladies, I should say... I'm getting those vaginal aromas which tell me some of you would like to enjoy seeing the new girls put through a little bit of dress- torment." "Oh yessss," came back to her and "About time too, Vera, I can't wait." "So we offer our heartfelt thanks to Jessica for directing this morning's ceremony. We're going to repair now to the Dressing Chamber, where there will be drinks and refreshment for the ladies and lots of little dresses for our little girls. And for those of you who want, whenever you want, there will be dildoes available. Feel free to strap yourself into one whenever you want a bit of fun." Her words were greeted with a cheer, and Stepmother Vera and Aunt Alison got to their feet and held their stepdaughter and niece by the hand, so that everyone could follow them towards their new life at Dressing Manor. THE END *** All seven parts of this story are available, along with all his stories and art, in Prim's Petticoat Wendyhouse, where membership at 9.00 USD per month brings you EVERYTHING ON THE SITE. A new concept in cross- dresser/transgender entertainment.