Connie Featherington realised early on, when her son Dillon was only two, that he was at his happiest when she put him in one of his little baby dresses. She will never forget the feelings of maternal happiness her little boy gave her when he laughed and laughed and showed all his new teeth, as she fastened the dress buttons down his back over layers and layer of petticoats. As he grew a little older, his love of his dresses became a passion, and his pleasure was less of a tinkling laugh, more of a blissful sigh, as he would fluff the frills and lace out wide over his petticoats and preen himself amid feelings of rosy pink pleasure.

  As he grew into his teens, she never had to insist on Dillon wearing an extra petticoat, or choosing one of his nicest dresses from his five dress closets. He was only too happy to spend all day with his hips and legs surrounded by a cloud of silk or nylon frills that bounced in sizzles as he walked or floated around him whenever he sat down. Connie didn't even have to show her little Dilly how to be effeminate; he learnt everything by watching her or the girls at school - or perhaps it simply came naturally to him to be so graceful and delicate. She knew that her son was really a girl, except for the stiff little genital that kissed the inside of his panty gusset as if it was longing to be feminine too.

  "You can wear three petticoats under your new party dress, darling," said Connie, spreading the layers of petti-frills across the bed.

  "But Mummy, I want to wear thikth pettieth under my thilky dweth," warbled her little princess as the now eighteen year old stood in his bra, suspenders and stockings, with his feet rocking with excitement in his white high heeled pumps. His little penis was rigidly upright before he had even been put into his party panties.

  "I know you'd love to be in six darling, but your dress won't bounce and spread properly with all those frills. Now, look what Mummy has bought for you, to go to Seddie's party." She stepped towards the excited teenager, her hands mysteriously behind her back, and then there they were... the most gorgeous pair of white chiffon panties, ruched at the legs with satin ribbons threaded through to pull them together in a fairytale bow. Dillon's voice disappeared into a squeak as his eyes devoured their heavenly shape, their precious softness and the way they shimmered in the light from the window. Connie dipped down to his feet, let him slot a shiny white shoe through each leg, and drew them silently up his nylons and over his knees, until they encased his effeminate penis in their gusset of doubled silk chiffon.

  Her son buried his face in his hands. He loved Mummy to put him into his panties, but this special pair, for going to Seddie's party, were extra specially precious... so pretty... so... ohhh, he was going to be a girl at the party, with all the other girls, and his panties made him long to be surrounded by all of Seddie's friends... so... oh, so... ooohhhhhhhhh, his longing to be one of the girls was too much, so lovely, as his little popsie loved his party panties with all its sweetness, spending and spending and filling the chiffon silk with his girly creamies. All the effeminate boy could do as he spurted was hold his cheeks and say: "Mummy... oh Mummy... I'm g-going to be such a pretty girl!"

  Connie's heart wilted as the front of her darling's panties seeped with cream and was soon dribbling in a sorry state... the lovely new panties he was going to wear for the party. But in a moment her disappointment turned to a chuckle. How thrilled he was to be joining the girls. She should have known that his longings would flood out, into his panties, no matter what pair she had chosen for him.

  "Never mind, my sweetheart," she said with a lovely motherly smile, "you're going to be so thrilled at Seddie's party, I'd better put you into a creaming bag and then it won't matter what happens when you feel so lovely." As soon as Dillon's panties were removed and his penis was refreshed, she opened a fresh popsie parcel and slipped the long, gossamer sheath onto the bed.

  Dillon's high heels rocked again with emotions. It was nice being put into a creaming bag, with Mummy threading the elastic cuff over the top so that it clenched him on his lollipop and dangled from his helmet.

  "Now, darling... can you guess what kind of panties you are you going to wear now?"

  "My thlotted pantieth, Mummy. Pleathe put lickel me into dem."

  Connie thought it would be as well to pop a dozen or so spare pairs of his slotted panties into a bag for him. It would be best if Mrs Pennington felt assured that Dilly wasn't going to spread any little messies around her house, even if he was surrounded by Seddie and her over-excited friends.

  And the excitement started immediately, as soon as Dillon was ushered into the house. He was surrounded by eleven teen girls who all wanted to see his lingerie and work out how his dribble-sleeve worked. Mrs Pennington was rather worried at first. His gossamer bag was carrying a lot of white cream already, and as the girls clustered against his dress and petticoats and helped him off with his bonnet, and felt how silky his bloomers were and told him how lovely he looked, it started to gather several more dribbles. But by the time the girls had got Dilly into Seddie's bedroom, all lying round him on the satin bed in a wonderful array of party dresses, her anxiety died down. She watched for a while as one spurt of cream after another was safely contained in the transparent creaming-bag.

  And Dillon felt as adorable and pretty as the girls told him he was. They changed his panties... and again... and again. They arranged his petticoats and spread his legs. They petted and kissed him...and made him feel such a lovely girl, just like they were. Dillon had always known that he should have been a girl... and now he really was one, though he was a little girl of three or four and they were much older.

  More delicious spurts of cream burst through the slot in his panties and ran into his popsie-bag, which was half full now, and there was much more to come because they were all such lovely, pretty and adorable girls together.

There are MORE THAN A THOUSAND Prim stories in the Wendyhouse at www.primspetticoatwendyhouse.com/feminization.htm