Mme Isabel Flounce knows how petticoat layers of silk and nylon can speak to the girl inside any boy.
When the sissies arrive at The Silk-Panty-House sissy school on Tuesday morning, they are undressed down to their skins and the nice clothes their mothers had dressed them in are hung into the pink closet until the boys will be collected at home time. This is because Miss Thelma and Miss Sadie must help Madame Flounce to dress them in matching brassieres and panties, so that their delicate curves and limbs are free to experience the exquisite influence of what the boys are to wear today.
“Tuesday,” announces Madame Flounce, pacing this way and that in front of them in her click-clacking high heels and swirling pleats, “is Petticoat Day. You are not boys today. You are not even sissies. Once we have you in a layered petticoat you will be girls.”
Her words go to work on the delicate feelings of her pupils, all of whom are in Senior Class 1 so they are just eighteen years old.
“Helen John,” she says, “you should know better than to put your hands across the front of your panty gusset. Hold your panties by the lace at the outside of each leg in the tips of your thumb and middle finger.” The other four sissies do the same. They are seated in a semi-circle, their legs parted wide as modestly as they can. “I want to see the point of your girlish dickie pointing up at me.”
John Hampshire, whose dickie is already loving the promise of a girlish petticoat, is Helen at the Silk-Panty-House. So he is Helen John, which will become Helen later in the day as his resistance to his natural girlyness grows weaker and weaker.
“Lucy James, I want to see you feeling the soft smoothness of your legs: caress them up and down, slowly and sensitively, with your fingertips. They are going to feel the touch and swirl of a girl’s petticoat in a few moments’ time.”
Miss Sadie has the first two petticoats ready for the two sissies with the cutest look of girlish purity and sweetness on their faces. “Julie Richard,” she says, “you are so effeminate in your wrists and fingers today. You may wear this lovely petticoat in powder blue silk-chiffon. And Poppy Philip, Miss Thelma will slip you into this pastel blue petticoat in silk gauze with nylon underskirts.”
The sissies almost faint with ecstasy as they stand and approach their glowing petticoats. The teaching assistants spread the circles of frills on the floor for each sissy to step into the inviting space in the middle – for the darling lingerie to be lifted by the shoulder ribbons until they can slot their bare arms through – and feel the heavenly embrace of their silk bodices.
The girls touch the outside of their frills, by the very edges, to feel the feminine delicacy of the pale blue silk. “Please zip me into my petticoat, Miss Sadie,” begs Julie.
“Please will you zip up my petticoat, Miss Thelma,” implores Poppy. Their mouths loll open and their knees squeeze together as the swell of femininity rises in their tender bodies.
“I want you to start in a petticoat in white nylon Helen John,” declares Madame Flounce, and she spreads the flaring frills in front of him so that he gasps with emotion. His bare feet step into its waist and Madame lifts it slowly and caressingly up his legs, over his pantied places and up to his shoulders.
“Ohhhh thank you Madame. Please will you fasten my petticoat behind me,” quails the boy, barely keeping control of his tender emotions. He shudders with feminine weakness as his zipper rises silently between his shoulder blades and closes his petticoat bodice onto his ribs.
“For you, Lucy James: a wide petticoat in layers of pink silk acetate. I know you like to dance and twirl and flounce your petticoat frills around your legs.”
Her words almost make the boy swoon, but Miss Thelma holds him in her arms until the worst of it passes and he is ready to have his pink petticoat frills drawn higher and higher until his panties and legs are contained inside all those layers of pink silk.
“And Martina Scott, I want you in this pretty petticoat of pink dicel – so slippery and girly. Because you are more of a girl than you even want to be.”
Martina manages to whisper: “Ohhh thank you, Madame – thank you!” as he steps into the adorable petticoat slip that she holds for him and draws it up his legs and his body until he is encased in its smooth, slippery layers.
The sissies move round the room, loving the swirl of their frills, feeling the soft bounce of their layers pressing and dancing around their legs. Poppy loves to feel her petticoat swaying and playing round her hips and thighs. She doesn’t have to walk: she can stand still and sway from side to side to adore the soft fluttering and dancing of her adorable layers.
Helen likes to sit and stand, sit and stand in her petticoat frills, feeling the crush and sizzle of her net and white silk. Then she takes a little walk to and fro in front of the mirrored panels on the walls of the petticoat room to watch her petticoat play round her waist and legs in girlish sweetness.
Julie loves to kiss Miss Thelma’s cleavage, which Miss Thelma is only too happy to allow through the gap in her blouse collar. Julie is never more feminine in her pretty head than when the assistant teacher flips up her collar so that the sissy’s face is enveloped in white blouse silk, because it reminds him of how his mother wants him to kiss her breasts and feel like a girl while he wears her panties and slips.
Lucy likes to dance, with her petticoat swinging and bouncing, while Martine just wants to be a girl, doing everything the sweetest of girls do, like looking pretty, feeling dainty and dressing herself more and more sweetly in precious girly frills.
This is the most valuable part of their lesson as the sissies show increased femininity in their petticoats. The result is they can wear a dress over them. Each girl will have her petticoat changed at least three times before she is allowed to wear her dress. But unfortunately there is another side to the feminine sweetness of Senior Class 1.
Oh dear, Helen’s petticoat is becoming sticky in the front, and she needs clean panties before she can be dressed in a petticoat of lilac nylon in five or six layers, one of which is a net layer to give so much more width and flare to her lovely petticoat.
Poppy moves that bit too much, so that her petticoat swirls and smooths again and again across the front of her panties. A girl can take only so much petticoat frilling before her clitoris just has to speak its adoration for the femininity of her layers of powder blue silk.
Martina is so in love with her frills that seeing them surrounding her legs on all sides is too much for her delicate feminine feelings and she simply has to gush with girlishness into her pink panty and into the precious silk chiffon of her petticoat.
Julie is no better. She is unfortunate in that she can’t stop herself from feeling so wonderful in her blouse collar prison and slippery light blue petticoat, with her lips and tongue deep inside Miss Thelma’s cleavage. It’s no wonder at all her emotions come to a head in her panty gusset.
And Lucy’s petticoat skirts swirl and dance around her thighs and panties with such entrancing sweetness that the femininity of her pink nylon passes into her legs and her personal places. Of course Miss Sadie finds the inside of the sissy’s petticoat is layered in sticky sissy jism.
Madame Flounce is not pleased. Or so she makes out. As each girl is found to have patches and runs of dribble in her petticoat, she is undressed to just her brassiere, to be laid over Madame’s cold rubber apron for a firm spanking. It is disgraceful for sissy-girls to treat their lovely girls’ lingerie with such boyish disdain.
Not only that, each boy is told he will not be allowed to wear a dress unless he can wear his clean panties and his new petticoat with proper girlish decorum. There are tears of course, from one sissy after the other, and it is only after a long confession of serious contrition and solemn promises of clean panties and petticoats that each one of them is held by the Ladies and dressed in dainty, lace-trimmed panties and a fresh petticoat, even more frilly and flouncy than before, followed by a beautiful, oh-so-feminine dress in which he can feel ecstatically girly as he walks and swirls and curtseys and twirls for everyone to see how lovely he is on Petticoat Day.
What lovely feelings course through their sensitive veins. What femininity fills every inch of their delicate bodies. Do you think these tender young girls will fulfil their promises of self-control? Or will each of them, one by one, have to be laid across Madame Flounce’s apron again, to have her dress and her petticoat frills turned up and her panties drawn down for the appliance of yet another lesson in girly self-control which so many of these young sissies seem to lack these days?
***
Sissies can order the NEW Prim-Prissy issue of Feminized In Frillies Volume 7 if they visit Prim’s website at http://www.primspetticoatwendyhouse.com/feminization.htm
