“Oh Sybil, please.”
“Sybil. I can commend you in your use of your own clothes to incapacitate your male so effectively.” She undid the bow of the silk headscarf under the chin of the mummified creature so that she could catch the knicker elastic from under his chin and draw it upwards to his forehead – only to reveal a second, and then a third pair of his wife’s panties. At last an extremely sorrowful male appeared, with wet cheeks that began to turn crimson now that a superior looking female had discovered his ignominious shame. “This must be your husband, I suppose?”
“It is. Jeremy Carter, failed businessman and totally failed male. Honestly Miss Hateman I can’t begin to tell you the pathetic uselessness he has shown me in the sex department. I could go on – ”
“Yes, I’m sure,” interrupted the Institute’s director as she unbuttoned the front of the imprisoned male’s peach pink mackintosh below the deep belt, followed by the buttons of the skirt that appeared beneath. Her eyes glared into the occupant’s forcing him to drop his head in embarrassment. She left the skirt buttons for a moment to catch the fool’s mackintosh hood and pull it well forward so that he all but disappeared again into its latex lined depths. “For you to bring him to me in your clothes, ma’am, tells me a lot about his feeble excuse for maleness: only the weakest of sexless worms allow themselves to be dressed in the clothing of their Mistresses: it shouts out ‘I am a slave to your corsets and skirts!’ This one is a prime example.”
Sybil Carter watched with a satisfied grin as Miss Hateman fed her hands inside the opened skirt, pulled down one, two, three pairs of her knickers, and brought the disgustingly stiffened cock right out into the cool air of her office. The director left if for a moment to don her pair of latex gloves, then seized it afresh, but only after pushing the mackintosh hood back and grabbing the sissy’s chin to make sure he knew he had to look at her without fail.
“I simply love getting my hands on snivelling dregs like you, Carter.” Her chiselled features took on a new, super-sharp sleekness whenever she had the stiffened cock of a petticoated ex-male in her hands. “Now your admirable and long-suffering Mistress will tell me why she has had to bring you here today.”
His eyes filled with fright. Sybil would reveal his weaknesses, without mercy.
“Oh if I told you everything,” she began, “we’d be here all day. Let me just tell you he is a stubborn, resisting, macho chauvinist, but if you can imagine, at the same time he is a weak and pathetic sissy coward. But he is really in your hands, Miss Hateman, because I discovered his hidden stash of girly videos showing girls in bikinis and corsets. When I confronted him, and threatened divorce, he confessed he liked to wear these things. I pressed him. I knew there was more. I plagued him with questions until he took me to his hiding place, in the attic, and lo and behold, he had dozens of pairs of panties – very frilly, lacy panties, Miss Hateman – and then, would you believe it: a little wardrobe closet with fifteen little girls’ dresses hanging up in it.”
Jeremy Carter squealed and doubled over Miss Hateman’s hand as her grip tightened in a searing squeeze on the shaft of his cock. “No wonder this filthy worm of a prick is stiffening in my hand, you shit. I’ve found out how perverted you are haven’t I? You’ve been exposed for the knob-head you are by your wife, your supreme Mistress. My God, what a prize-wanker!”
The man in her hands was wailing at being rumbled and then publicly humiliated for his perversion. Yes he wanted to wear little dresses, very pretty dresses with lovely ruffles and sleeves and little pockets like little girls love to have on their frocks. But for his wife to find out! and then for her to broadcast his shame like this! Ohhh, he melted with misery as Miss Hateman stripped him one garment after another until he stood in nothing more than his wife’s stockings and suspender belt and one of her brassieres stuffed with breast forms.
“Come here, you snotty-nosed wimp,” she said in a growl as she pulled him by the penis across the room, his hands trying to relieve the grip she had on him. She threw open the doors of a high cupboard to reveal a row of feminine frills and silks, rummaged amongst them, and brought out what was unmistakeably a girls’ little dress. It was in sheer pink silk, with puffs at the shoulders and a row of little pink ribbon bows all round the skirt. She released him to drape it across the back of a chair, opened a drawer below the closet, and selected a pair of women’s panties to match the rose pink silk of the dress. “That penis is disgusting, d’you hear! Utterly revolting in its perverted stimulation. You are a wanker, Carter, and your filthy cock has to be kept inside women’s panties – or girls’ – or baby girls’ even. Step in!”
Jeremy Carter didn’t dare object and the panties slid like a breath of cool air up his stockings until she had them nestling on cold silk over his pointed erection and around his ass and his delicate parts. He glanced at his wife. She wore a sneer of contempt and snorted at him, compelling him to drop his face in shameful humiliation. Miss Hateman held the dress for his arms, which he obediently slipped through until it gathered round him. The white satin ribbon at the neck fastened into a neat bow at his throat.
“Your prick of a husband needs to be babyfied, Miss Carter,” she said, and gathered a matching bonnet from the panty drawer. It dropped out into its full shape and he mewled with misery at its babyishness. It was pink on one side, white on the other, depending which way you put it on. Her fingers seized a fistful of his hair to hold his head in place for bonneting, then she drew the white satin lining round the back of his hair, from crown to neck, drew its sides together round his face and fastened it in place with a miniature zip drawn up his throat to the point of his chin. His face was dressed in pink silk, with white frills surrounding it to add to his babyish appearance. There were ribbons too: one, two and three, which she drew through the bonnet and did into three bows to show to his wife.
“Here he is, your little girl husband,” she said, grasping his elbows and pointing him towards his wife with his rampant penis sticking forward and upward.
“I love it,” she announced. “I want you to babify him. Do you have different levels of babyishness you can train him for?”
“We do, ma’am: Deep Babyfication, Pathetic Babyfication and Extreme Babyfication.”
“It’s got to be ‘extreme’,” declared Sybil. “I want him wetting himself, constantly, and he has to be extremely WEAK. Very important that: I want you to rob him of every ounce of strength. Then make him crave baby treatment, and little dresses with frills and ruffles for me to put him in when my friends come to visit the baby.”
“Done!” said Miss Hateman. She put her phone to her ear and spoke to her staff. “Nurse Skirt, I’ve got a new patient here for the Exteme Babyhood course. Can you bring one of your patients to panty-pouffe-play-area three to show this pathetic pervert what lies in store for him?” Then she pulled his hands behind him and fitted them into a double mitten which she fastened round his wrists with a white ribbon that finished in a big bow. Next she stepped him into a second pair of panties, which she drew as far as his knees, where they too had white ribbons which she did into a bow. In the space of a few seconds she had rendered him conveniently available for treatment and conditioning.
“His training will take four weeks, Miss Carter. You can speak to me anytime by phone, and if you like you can visit him each weekend, although most wives are happier waiting until he is ready to be taken home in his baby bag, it’s up to you.”
“What!” cried the unfortunate male between them. “Sybil did you hear that. The woman’s gone mad. You’ve got to take me home again now. I’ll make up for my mistakes, obviously I will.”
“Oh I’ll wait til he’s ready,” laughed Sybil. “I want to see a sea change in him when I next slap eyes on him: and I want him to burst into tears at the state he’s been reduced to on that glorious day. Good-bye Miss Hateman.” Then she put two gloved fingers to her lips and dabbed a kiss on the trembling lips of her husband. “Good-bye, Jeremy. I just can’t think yet what name I’ll call you by, when I wheel you out of here in your buggy. Ha-ha, ha-ha-ha!”
“But Sybil, my darling! Wait! Don’t leave me! What will happen to me? Sybil!” Jeremy Carter’s pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears as he watched the back of his wife leave the room and the door close behind her.
Nurse Skirtson arrived to hold and manipulate the abandoned husband. “The first thing we need for Extreme Baby Training,” said Miss Hateman, “is complete helplessness, isn’t it, Nurse?”
“Absolutely. This belt around baby’s elbows will make those arms useless. Then the next thing we need is a nice girls’ school blouse to wrap round baby’s face, like this, and button sissykins up inside it – like this.”
“Stoppit! Let go of me, take this stupid blouse off my face!” came the desperate pleas from inside the white cotton poplin blouse, its empty sleeves dangling onto the puffed sleeves of Jeremy Carter’s pink dress.
“Then we find that babyish mouth like this,” and Miss Hatemand found a parting between blouse buttons, “for Baby’s bottle feed. A very special bottle feed on the Extreme course, isn’t it, Nurse?”
“Ye-e-es, filled with baby girl hormone, with power to change Babykins’ bodily functions nice and quickly.”
“Lots of sissy squirting,” explained Miss Hateman as the bottle teat was pushed through the blouse and into the quivering mouth inside, “and a fair bit of uncontrolled wetting, I think.”
Jeremy Carter did everything he could to escape his bottle. He tried twisting his head, which he couldn’t because the bottle itself held his mouth in place and his efforts only served to make him swallow more and more, then tried to kick and buck on his high heels, but when your elbows are belted and your knees are tightly pantied it isn’t possible to do anything but stand between two women and suck obediently, even if what you are drinking is going to render you even more weak and helpless and forced to follow their wishes.
When he had successfully emptied his bottle he was led in pathetic little steps into another room, where another nurse had a grown up, naked sissy baby across her knee. The baby was agitated: kicking and wriggling his arms making it difficult for her to hold onto him. Even though the baby’s head was enveloped inside a pretty bonnet in lemon satin, it was clear it was a male baby because his penis was dancing this way and that between his wriggling legs. The only other things he wore were a matching pair of mittens and a matching pair of bootees.
“Is Baby Sissydick having his babyhood reinforced, Nurse Apron?” asked Miss Hateman as she undid the front of her own sissy’s face blouse to make him watch.
“That’s right, Matron,” explained the nurse. “He’s making nice progress on his Extreme Babying Training Course. He wants me to baby him more and more as your new patient will see when I just take this pacifier out for a minute.”
As soon as the pink pacifier was pulled out of its mouth, the sissy set up a storm of wailing and begging, with even stronger wriggling than before. “Baby wan diapees, Mommy – Baby diapees for lickel baby! Diapees, Mommy, diapees for Baby!” The pacifier had to be plugged back in for a bit of peace and quiet, but in any case the sissy’s nurse had the much desired diapers beside her and was able to open out a huge plastic-backed diaper and slide it under her patient’s ass. She pulled it well up his back, so that as she folded it up between the wriggling legs, it enclosed him almost up to his armpits in a white diaper with frilled, tight legs, four sticky tabs on each side and a row of pink girls dress pictures up the middle. Baby didn’t seem contented, though. His wriggles continued, he gurgled and moaned into his pacifier, and Nurse Apron proceeded to engulf him in a second diaper like the first, making his padding several inches thick and spreading his knees wide to make room for them.
This seemed to calm him down as he sucked hard on the teat of his pacifier, enough for her to pull it from his mouth and let him say more.
“Thithy-baby-wubber-pantieth, Nurse. Pantieth pweeth. Baby’th pantieth! Now! Pantieth! Pantieth! Pantieth!”
His pacifier had to go in again, he was so annoyingly desperate. Jeremy Carter watched in horror as the sissy patient had a large pair of panties in pale pink rubber fed over his feet and pulled up his legs until they spread into stretched flatness from his chest to the tops of his thighs. Babykins still wriggled though, so she took a second pair from the table and pulled them onto his legs too. They had more room in them, and slithered and squeaked loudly as they slid into place over the first pair. There were frills of pink rubber at the legs, and two further trims of pink rubber frilling running round each leg. The wriggling came again and his pacifier was removed for his desires to pour out.
“Petticoatee, Mommy! Babykinth pettie pweeth, Put Baby in pettie pweeth. Baby pettie!”
“For goodness sake plug his mouth and fasten him into his pacifier,” cried Miss Hateman. The nurse obliged and passed a ribbon round his neck and through the pacifier ring to secure it in place. She had a short but very wide petticoat in white organza to drop over his bonnet and down onto his shoulders, where she could spread it out over his rubber panties on all sides. She rolled him onto his front, spread the petticoat across his back, and did up two little petticoat buttons at the back of his neck. As she turned him onto his back again the sissy looked a picture of babyhood in his bonnet and wide petticoat, with his pink rubber panties spreading his bare legs wide.
“So you see, Carter,” declared Miss Hateman, looking into her new sissy’s open school blouse, “Sissydick is showing his helpless weakness. He’s wetting himself into his diapers and panties: it’s all he wants to do.” Jeremy Carter watched, close to tears, as the sissy held the front of his petticoat up on his chest in his mittens as if to watch how clever he was being at wetting himself for his Nurse. On and on went the wetting, as could be seen from the wide-eyed glee above the pink pacifier, and from the slithers in rhythm from the bare legs and yellow bootees.
“Pathetic!” declared Miss Hateman. “Give him more hormones as a reward, Nurse Apron. This idiot will be just like him in a couple of days, I have no doubt.”
The wretched new arrival was led shivering with horror from the room and was led in little steps again into another, where the two women lifted him from the floor so that he could be secured in a dangle sling comprising a diaper-padded latex bloomer, with a slot in the front for his stiffened penis to be brought out. His arms and legs were fastened far out to the sides so that they were helplessly wriggling out of reach, and his face was bonneted in a doubled satin blush-bonnet. Into it the women slid one folded pair of women’s panties after another, sliding them three pairs of panties deep all round his face, but with room to reach his mouth with another bottle of My Mommy baby milk.
“Just what my new Baby needs,” said Miss Hateman, showing the first grin he had seen from her since his wretched arrival, “with babyfication hormones and baby weakness agents to ensure those penis muscles can’t hold back on any wee once we want our little girly baby to wet himself non-stop.”
The harness was arranged over a chair, so that once she had donned a thick rubber apron and sat beneath him, he could be lowered, his legs pulled wide and his stiffened penis pointing helplessly at her breasts, she could slide his defenceless cock up and down her bibbed apron. As she told him what sissy delights of girly dressing and baby care awaited him, it wasn’t long before Jeremy Carter’s clitoris pumped his cum onto her apron bib and he was sliding very wetly in copious slithers of cum.
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See more of the Feminized In Frillies series of stories at Prim’s website at www.primspetticoatwendyhouse.com
