Desdemona Frobisher was thrilled to acquire an eighteen year old stepson when she married her weak new husband. “He’s going to be my drawing room sissy, darling,” she told her sister Carmella. “He’s going to wear girly little blouses and sissy button pants, and on days when I want to REALLY punish him, I’ll have him in party dresses.”

Carmella couldn’t wait. “If I were you, I’d get him injected with the new ‘Girls’ Dickie-Drops’,” she said, bubbling with excitement. “And a friend of mine had a nice nurse doing it for her. Here’s her number.”

In no time at all they had an appointment, and Nurse Sweet arrived to administer the conditioning serum. “Have him in two or three girls’ blouses,” insisted the medic, “preferably with little puffed sleeves and large enveloping collars so that he already feels like he’s being girled.”

As the nurse approached him his knees collapsed, and he had to be held up by his stepmother and her sister. “No! Don’t do it to me!” he cried, well aware that he was somehow going to be feminized by injection. “S-Stepmother, I’ll do anything you say, anything, just don’t! DON’T, I SAY!”

He watched with anguish, his hands fastened out of the way, as Nurse Sweet did his stepmother’s bidding, and the women stood back and watched as the boy’s voice became softer and higher and his wriggles became more and more effeminate.

“I don’t want to be a sissy,” he whimpered, turning his doleful hazel eyes to one woman after another, only to be met with giggles of scorn and triumph.

“I know you don’t, dear,” laughed Desdemona. “And that’s why we’re doing it to you. We’ll be able to laugh at you every morning as we put you into little blouses and pretty panties for us to show you to our friends. They’ll love it when we change you into frilly dresses in front of them – and you will cry and cry.”

There are ten new Prim pics on the first of the month every month in the Penelope Room at www.primspetticoatwendyhouse.com/feminization.htm