Wendy's New Taste (R, for salty language)

R Wendy's New Taste (R, for salty language)

Widdle Wendy

When a sissy refuses to perform for his wicked stepmother he is sent to a therapist for unorthodox treatment.

Posted on May 27th, 2009 ~ 12:00 am

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This is a story by and about me, and I'm over 18 years of age.

Two matrons sat sipping tea on a lightly furnished veranda. The quiet of the mid-afternoon was punctuated by the lazy chirping of birds and the occasional tink of cup on saucer. So it was, until Elizabeth huffed.
Whats the matter Lizzy darling? Alice asked. You look absolutely flustered.
Its Wendy.
Your sissy little offspring? What could be wrong with her? Shes always struck me as a perfect little ladyboy.
She was, Elizabeth spoke. Ever since I divorced my husband and I was finally able to remove the remaining masculine distractions from her life shes gone from being a woefully inadequate milksop of a son to a lovely young lady. And she was such a comfort to me during those difficult first few weeks of the separation. Well, her tongue was anyway. Elizabeth paused for a moment and looked wistfully into the distance, recalling the many pleasant evenings she had spent, her sissy daughter bringing sweet release with her talented mouth.
Go on dear.
Well, as you well no a woman needs more than an obedient sissy in her life. I had my lovers before the divorce, and I vowed to take many more after. And Ive been good to my word. Im sure youve seen me on the town with Philip and Hank and Roger.
Oh yes. You have the most exquisite taste in men.
Oh yes. I need real men in my life. Hence the divorce. But you know how rogue a real man can be when hes giving a good reaming. Thats the reason I began Wendys oral training in the first place. After three solid hours of hard ******* my poor mons needs to recover, and Wendys tongue was so soothing on my battered pussy. And Wendy enjoyed it as well. It brought us closer together as mother and sissy son. We were never closer than when her head was between my legs, lapping away as the sticky spend of my lovers.
Why ever would she stop? Alice asked.
You remember how Wendy struggled in school? She never was too bright. As it turns out, she never had any idea that this whole time she was eagerly drinking the sperm of my partners. She thought that pearly froth was just mothers special nectar. When she found out the little priss threw quite a tantrum.
Didnt you discipline her for her disobedience?
Of course I did. Ive tried everything. Spankings, paddlings, whippings, cold showers, denying Wendy her weekly milking. Nothing works. She refuses to burry her head between my legs and do her duty unless she knows I havent been ****** yet.
Alice paused for a moment, considering all that had been said.
Elizabeth, my dear, your problem isnt a disobedient sissy or a lack of discipline. Its jealousy.
Me, jealous? Elizabeth huffed. Of that little pantywaist? I should think...
No, no Lizzy. She is jealous of you. Just think about it. The limp wristed fairy knows your staying out to all hours with a handsome selection of well equipped men, and every time you come home the proof that youve been having the time of your life is right between your legs. And without a word you want to rub Wendys nose in it. Literally. She must be going out of her mind with jealousy.
Do you think so? But shes never shown any interest in men before.
Trust me. Deep down inside all sissies wan a real man. Wendy just doesnt want to admit it. She wants to be hooked on semen, and I could recommend a doctor that could make it happen. Once Wendy has had a taste straight from the source she wont be able to get enough. Shell beg to clean you out with her tongue.
You really think your doctor could make that happen, Elizabeth asked.
No doubt. How do you think my husband became a willing cuckold?

End of Part One

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kkthesissy

Posted May 27th, 2009 ~ 4:55 am

great story so far cant wait for more. :D

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Widdle Wendy

Posted January 9th, 2021 ~ 5:54 pm

I just did an new edit of this story and used it as a writing sample for a publisher of sissy fiction. I do so hope they like it!

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sissy servant 737-829-633

Posted January 19th, 2021 ~ 11:28 pm

widdle wemdy,, YOU DO UNDERSTAND me..

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Widdle Wendy

Posted January 26th, 2021 ~ 8:53 pm

Chapter 2

Elizabeth, with all the cool poise of a wicked fairytale stepmother, sat in Dr. Long’s waiting room, her glossy red nails idly turning the pages of a magazine. Her lips, red to match her nails, curled into a little smile as she turned to a pictorial spread on the coming summer fashions. Elizabeth’s nails, makeup, low cut blouse, high cut skirt, and stockings with their immaculately straight seams were all calculated to draw the eye of any red-blooded man. Such a shame there were none here to appreciate her aura of mature sexuality.

In contrast, Elizabeth’s sissy stepson Wendy had all the poise of an immature schoolgirl, his constant fidgeting causing his petticoats to rustle, breaking the otherwise perfect silence of the waiting room. Dressed head to toe in robin’s egg blue satin, Wendy resembled nothing so much as Alice on her way to wonderland, though Alice would never be caught with heels so high. The layer upon layer of petticoats beneath the skirt artfully concealed Wendy’s ruffled panties and the shamefully inadequate organ tucked within. The entire ensemble was trimmed with an excess of lace and topped with an oversized bow that contrasted beautifully with Wendy’s cheeks, still rosy and flushed with embarrassment.

Since Elizabeth had taken personal control of her step sissy’s life and wardrobe, Wendy had rarely been out of the house. For today’s appointment Elizabeth insisted Wendy be fully and properly dressed in sissy attire, and made a point to park a full block away from Dr. Long’s office. Elizabeth relished the casual stroll from her car to the pebbled glass door with the gold lettering reading Long Behavioral Associates, her delicate hand locked around Wendy’s limp wrist like an iron vice. The sissy was so embarrassed by the cruel stares, giggles, and pointing fingers of casual passers by she could barely keep up.

Elizabeth glanced up from her magazine as two patients emerged from their session with Dr. Long. A tall brunette followed by a short man with the body of a bowling pin, married judging by their rings. Without so much as glancing over her shoulder the brunette went straight to the mirror by the entrance and said to her husband, “Pay the doctor for his services, Harold. And see that he gets a little some extra. A gratuity is the least you can do after the extra service he gave us,” as she touched up her makeup.

“Yes dear,” Harold replied meekly as he counted out bills from his wallet.

The brunette snapped her lipstick case shut and tapped her foot impatiently. As she waited for Harold to pass the bills to the receptionist her eyes fell on Wendy. She looked the nervous sissy up and down, then met Elizabeth’s eyes. The two women nodded to each other in approval.

With that the brunette left the office, her husband close at her heels. “Harold, call Philip and let him know I’d love to join him for an evening out on the town. Your treat, of course.”

“Yes dear,” Harold practically whispered as the pebbled glass door closed behind the happy couple.

Elizabeth observed the whole exchange with quiet interest. Throughout it all Harold had not once glanced at her long legs, peeped up her pencil skirt, or ogled over her heavy bosom. Dr. Long does good work indeed.

“Dr. Long will see you now,” the receptionist called musically from behind her desk. Wendy gave his stepmother a hopeless, pleading look, but there was nothing for it. He shakily rose to his feet, wobbling on his Mary Jane’s. With a well placed swat to Wendy’s rump, Elizabeth sent her step sissy tottering across the waiting room, through the door to Dr. Long’s office, and into a plush upholstered chair reserved for the clinic’s special patients.

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sissy servant 737-829-633

Posted January 26th, 2021 ~ 10:28 pm

@ Widdle Wendy

the clinic’s special patients.. What is going to happen next.. Great write,, i can see the whole scene and wish I was YOU!

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Widdle Wendy

Posted January 27th, 2021 ~ 2:40 am

@ sissy servant 737-829-633

Thank you so much for the kind words!

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Widdle Wendy

Posted January 27th, 2021 ~ 7:15 pm

Chapter 3

Wendy sank back into the thick cushions of the padded chair, doing his best to put his petticoats in order and protect his fragile modesty. It was only then that he got his first look at Dr. Long.

The doctor stood with his back to Wendy, giving the sissy a perfect view of his broad shoulders, tall frame, and close cropped salt-and-pepper hair. He stood with the confidence and build of a soldier. Clearly, this was a man who spent a lifetime training his body as well as his mind. Dr. Long made such a powerful impression Wendy’s sissy brain barely registered the fact the doctor was adjusting his pants and buckling his belt.

With his pants and all they contained well in order, Dr. Long tuned and faced Wendy, looking the sissy over with piecing grey eyes that smoldered behind spectacles that were mostly for show. “Welcome to your first session, Wendy.” The doctor’s tone was firm but welcoming, deep and rich.

“Uh…my name is Walter, sir. My stepmother…”

“…booked this appointment and filled out all the necessary forms,” Dr. Long cut in smoothly. “You’re registered on all our paperwork as Wendy, and it would be a gross violation of professional ethics if I didn’t do things by the letter and abide by her wishes. Wendy, if you think your stepmother made a mistake, tell her and I’m sure she’ll update your forms accordingly.”

The memory of Elizabeth’s paddle on his backside made Wendy think twice about pressing the issue. “Yes, doctor.”

Dr. Long took a seat opposite Wendy in a high-backed office chair, his posture projected casual authority. He pulled a notepad from his desk and a silver-plated fountain pen that caught the light. “Do you know why you are here, Wendy?”

“My stepmother Elizabeth sent me.”

Dr. Long chuckled. “You are not here because of your stepmother. Yes, she may have signed you up for this appointment, she may be paying for your treatment, and she may be right on the other side of that door,” Dr. Long gestured with his pen. “But she has nothing to do with this, so please put her out of your mind.”

The image of Elizabeth leaning on the office door, listening in on the appointment with a predatory grin, that had already form in Wendy’s mind faded away. The truth of it surprised him, but somehow Dr. Long’s words made Wendy feel safe. Well, as safe as he could feel dressed head to toe in satin and lace while sitting across from a strange man who was easily twice as big and thrice as strong as himself.

“The reason you are here is you,” Dr. Long continued. “You see, therapy is about looking inward. It is about getting to know and expressing your truest self without fear or doubt. So I ask you again, do you know why yo are here?”

“I’m here, um, because of me?”

“You sound doubtful, but don’t worry.” Dr. Long scribbled in his pad. “After you’ve been exposed by my techniques you’ll say all that and more with confidence.”

Dr. Long asked a few more basic questions, and Wendy gave a few more brief answers. Wendy was started when the receptionist popped into the room carrying a silver tray upon which rested two steaming mugs, one pink and blue. A smile spread across Dr. Long’s face. “Please forgive the interruption, Wendy. I like to share a cup of tea with my new patients. I find it helps them relax, and a conversation over a warm cuppa is always more open and honest.” The receptionist handed the blue mug to the doctor and the other to Wendy, then silently slipped back to the waiting room. It all happened so fast Wendy failed to notice the recently emptied condom on the corner of the silver tea tray, its contents slowly mixing with the cream and sugar in the pink mug.

Dr. Long took a hearty gulp of tea and encouraged Wendy to drink as well. Wendy took an experimental sip, and then another, struck by the tea’s rich flavor that was at once exotic and yet strangely familiar. With her mouth full of tea, Wendy had little to do but sit back and listen to Dr. Long drone on about expectations, commitments, and goals. Wendy took it all in with some skepticism, though there was something about Dr. Long’s confidence…

There was indeed something about Dr. Long, something about his posture and mannerisms. From his stance in the high-backed chair, hips slightly forward with legs casually spread, to the way he emphatically gestured with his silver pen and then let it dangle just so as his right hand came to rest in his lap. Everything Dr. Long did was designed to draw his patient’s eye to his inseam and the ample bulge growing there. It was certainly having an effect on Wendy. As the sissy sipped the strange tea, adjusting to the flavor and becoming more relaxed and comfortable in the soft chair, his blue eyes fluttered, their focus jumping between Dr. Long’s face, the swirling clouds of cream in the tea, and the impressive member outlined by the fabric of the doctor’s tailored pants.

“Wendy, are you listening to me?” Dr. Long broke into the sissy’s reverie.

“Um, yes sir.”

“Well, perhaps I’ve done enough talking. Wendy, I’d like you to tell me about yourself.” Dr. Long placed his drained mug on his desk, then rose from his high-backed chair. “We’re going to do a little exercise I that helps me learn about my new patients and will help you learn about yourself.”

The sissy flinched slightly as Dr. Long reached forward and gave Wendy’s thickly padded chair a nudge. The chair swiveled, turning around until it faced the door to the waiting room. To Wendy’s surprise a full length mirror was mounted to the door giving him a perfect view of himself sinking into the plush cushions, practically lost in the lace folds of his dress. Then Dr. Long appeared in the reflection. The doctor’s body was perfectly framed by the mirror, giving Wendy a perfect few of his muscled arms, broad chest, and flat stomach. From where Wendy sat, his head was level with Dr. Longs bulge. The doctor reached forward and rested his hands firmly on Wendy’s shoulders, his thick fingers digging into the satin of the sissy’s puff sleeves.

“Look at yourself, Wendy.” Dr. Long nudged the sissy in the cheek with his thumb, bringing Wendy’s gaze to her own trembling face reflected in the mirror. “I want you to tell me what you see. More importantly, I want you to tell me who you see.”

Wendy opened his mouth to speak, but Dr. Long cut in smoothly yet again. “Because I’ll tell you what most people see when presented with a special case like yours.” Dr. Long tightened his grip ever so slightly, keeping Wendy’s gaze locked on her own reflection. “They see a weakling, a pantywaist. They certainly don’t see a man, much less a boy. They see something frail, delicate, and soft. Do you see it? Do you see those wide, innocent eyes? Do you see those hips that sway, making all those petticoats swish and bounce? Do you see those trembling lips, soft and full? Do you see that skinny frame that fits into a blouse and skirt far better than a shirt and pants? Take a good look at yourself, Wendy. Take in what you see. Look yourself over from your shiny Mary Janes to your ruffled bow. Now tell me, who do you see? What do you see, Wendy?”

Wendy was breathing heavily at this point, overtaken by his own appearance and the barrage of words from Dr. Long. It’s true, Wendy avoided mirrors ever since his stepmother took over his life, burning all his male clothes and seeing to it he only wore dresses and frocks or nothing at all around the home. Wendy had never truly looked himself over when en femme, much less looked his own reflection in the eye. Something bubbled up within Wendy that made his hands shake. Wendy dropped the pink mug, spilling the last of the tea down the front of his crisp white pinafore.

“What do you see, Wendy?”

It all came pouring out of Wendy in great, wracking sobs. “A pretty little girl!"

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sissy servant 737-829-633

Posted January 27th, 2021 ~ 10:46 pm

@ Widdle Wendy

Although I look ridiculous when I look in the mirror,, My minds eye see a sissy! A sissy whom needs diapers..
there I said it..

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Widdle Wendy

Posted January 28th, 2021 ~ 7:17 am

Chapter 4

Elizabeth and Alice reclined on a pair of rattan loungers enjoying a quiet afternoon poolside. The two were almost perfectly relaxed in the aftermath of one of Eduard’s deep tissue massages, among other things, but Alice could never settle for anything less than perfect.

“Lizzy, dear, would you care for a cocktail?” Alice asked dreamily.

“That would be heavenly,” Elizabeth responded, immediately perking up. Despite all his obvious failings as a male, Alice’s husband was an absolute miracle worker behind the bar, and occasionally bent over the bar as well.

Alice plucked a small crystal bell from the nearby accent table and rang it three times, the tinkling notes drifting through the spring air towards the open kitchen window overlooking the pool. A moment later her husband Brian came trotting out wearing nothing but a ruffled apron and carrying a tray set with two Mai Tais complete with lime and pineapple garnish.

Brian presented the tray and waited for Alice and her guest to accept their drinks. The two women stretched like kittens, then reached over taking their drinks in hand. Brian fidgeted slightly as we waited for some sign of approval.

Elizabeth took her first sip and her skin immediately flushed as the sweet fruit and burning liquor ran over her tongue. “Oh my goodness,” she blurted out in spite of herself.

“Yes indeed,” Alice chuckled. “If my husband isn’t potent at least his drinks are.”

Brian blushed and was about to turn and go when Alice snapped her fingers. “Are you in order, Brian?” she asked.

Brian tucked the tray under his left arm and with his right hand lifted the hem of his apron, revealing a stainless steel chastity cage that glimmered in the sunlight. “Yes, honey,” Brian replied sheepishly.

Alice took another sip of her drink, then flicked Brian’s cage with a plum lacquered fingernail, causing the small heard-shaped padlock to clatter against the gleaming metal. Elizabeth couldn’t help but giggle at the pathetic display, and the sight of Brian’s deficient member locked away was giving her intriguing ideas of her own.

“Has Eduard left yet,” Alice asked, giving Brian’s imprisoned penis another flick.

“No, honey. He’s still in the shower,” Brian replied with a wince as he received a third flick.

“Well, when he’s finished and dressed I want you to thank him for the wonderful hands on attention he gave Lizzy and myself, then send him on his way. Lizzy and I are going to have a little bit of girl talk and we don’t want to be disturbed. If Eduard’s up for another round with either of us he’ll just have to wait.”

“And if he can’t wait, honey?” Brian asked with a dry gulp, having grown accustomed to anticipating the seemingly bottomless vigor of his wife’s lover.”

“You know what he likes, dear. Now, off with you,” Alice ordered, giving Brian a perfectly aimed smack of the backside to get him moving.

Alice and Elizabeth savored the warm spring stillness that followed Brian’s departure until Alice could no longer contain her curiosity. “So, how was Wendy’s first appointment with Dr. Long?”

Elizabeth’s face brightened into a wide grin. “Better than I expected! The sweet pansy cried all the way home. I must say, I’ve never been able to make Wendy cry like that. Obviously, I’ve made tears well up in her eyes dozens of times, particularly during a good caning, but just one hour under Dr. Long’s care and she was blubbering like a toddler!”

“Yes,” Alice replied with a smirk. “Russ has a gift for breaking down inadequate men and sissies.”

“Russ? You’re on a first name basis with Dr. Long?”

“Well, after the good doctor finished treating Brian I was so thankful and eager to take my little cucky for a test drive I had him screw me right there in his office. Brian was practically in shock, but he served as our fluffer without hesitation and cleaned us both with his eager mouth afterward. Russ has made a few house calls since, but once you’ve taken a real man into your bed titles are just a formality.”

Elizabeth remembered Dr. Long’s handsome face, muscled chest, and his unforgettable package and considered the possibilities. “I must admit, he did catch my eye.”

“Don’t pounce too quickly, Lizzy,” Alice chided. “Russ has his professional ethics, and he says starting a physical relationship with a client can spoil the patient’s conditioning. If you want to feel his healing hands all over you you’ll have to wait.”

“Not for too long, I hope,” Elizabeth pouted.

“Just long enough for it to have the maximum psychological impact on little Wendy. Speaking of which, you say Russ left her in tears?”

“All the way home! You should have seen the looks she was getting as I marched her down the block to where I parked. I cave her the silent treatment on the drive home and just let her bawl her little eyes out. She’d almost composed herself by the time we entered the front door, but I got her going again when I pointed to the tea stain on her pinafore.”

“Russ’s special tea, no doubt. If only the little fairy knew what else was in that stain. Do you know, once Brian’s treatment was finished he was so used to the taste of extra cream he simply can’t have his morning coffee without it. When Eduard stays the night he’s always happy to oblige. Such a gentleman!”

“I can only hope Wendy acquires a similar taste. As I was saying, Wendy’s pinafore, a special white number I’d picked out for her first appointment, was absolutely ruined. You know I cannot abide dirty frocks in my house. I marched Wendy straight to the couch, threw her over my knee, and gave her the spanking of a lifetime. Hand to fanny, skin on skin, until her backside was candy apple red! The floodgates opened again and the simpering little thing wept like a jilted bride. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to see her look at me with a tear-streaked face promising to be a good girl. And you know something? I think Wendy was being sincere this time. I think she truly was sorry and committed to being by good little girl. I felt so close to her in that moment. Almost as close as when she used to bury her face between my legs, nibbling away at my mons.”

“Did you…?” Alice let the question hang in the air like a fish hook, and Elizabeth bit.

“Absolutely not!” Elizabeth replied. “Dr. Long says it’s far too early and pressuring Wendy into such a frank sexual situation at this stage in her conditioning. It could spoil everything we have planned for her. I took my step sissy by the hand, lead her to the laundry room, and had her strip down bare and throw everything into the washing machine. I ordered her to stay in that chilly laundry room without a stitch on until her clothes were washed, dried, and pressed while I went upstairs to have a soothing bath and relieve some of my feminine urges.”

“I know how you like to play in the bath, Lizzy dear. I bet that laundry was finished before you were.”

“It was. Wendy obeyed my order to the letter! While I lay there soaking in the tub giving my fingers a bit of a rest before round three, I caught a glimpse of my little charge reflected in the bathroom mirror, stark naked, padding across the second floor landing with her perfectly pressed and folded ensemble in hand.”

“What did I tell you, Lizzy dear? That doctor is an absolute miracle worker.”

“If Wendy shows this much progress after just one session, imagine the state she’ll be in after two,” Elizabeth said as she raised her glass to the cruel smile forming upon her lips.

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Widdle Wendy

Posted January 28th, 2021 ~ 7:40 pm

Chapter 5

A few days later Elizabeth and her sissy stepdaughter Wendy sat in the waiting room of Long Behavioral Associates. Getting Wendy through the door proved less of a struggle this time. Following the initial round of treatment and the the humiliating walk back to the car after the first appointment, Wendy gave in to her shame, silently lead by the the hand on the long walk from Elizabeth’s car to Dr. Long’s office. Head hung low and eyes downcast in embarrassment, Wendy barely noticed the cruel, mocking, and desirous glances of everyone on the street. Wendy game them plenty to see.

Elizabeth once again dressed Wendy in a calculatedly feminine ensemble. A dress of cherry red crushed velvet accentuated with white lace and ruffles around the neck, cuffs, and hem. True, springtime was hardly the season for velvet of any sort, but Elizabeth wanted her sissy to sweat. Wendy needed to work off that water weight, and perspiration did truly amazing things to the sissy’s white lace panties, which by now were practically see-through and clung to all the contours of the poor dear’s little nub and plump cheeks. Layers of crisp white petticoats puffed out the skirt nicely while the ruffled silk ribbon tied around Wendy’s middle accentuated the sissy’s waist. Tied into a charming bow at the small of Wendy’s back and trailing two long ends that fluttered in the breeze like lazy fairy wings, the ribbon drew all eyes to Wendy’s pantied behind, arousing curiosity and desire Elizabeth delighted in reading on the faces of gawking pedestrians.

Completing the ensemble; a pair of cherry red Dorothy heels, each adorned with a cluster of artificial cherries in place of the customary bow; and a red headband topped with an oversized cherry decorated in red glitter. Wendy’s virginal status couldn’t have been symbolized more perfectly. The sissy was a tempting piece of fruit more than a few passing men and women wanted to pick and devour.

Elizabeth touched up her makeup and regarded her reflection in the mirror of her compact. Following her conversation with Alice, Elizabeth was determined to entice Dr. Long into her bed, professional ethics be damned! Wendy’s stepmother was so preoccupied with her appearance she didn’t notice another woman rise from her seat and cross to the door of Dr. Long’s office where a young man waited, eyes staring down at the floor and thin-fingered hands fidgeting slightly.

“Madam, your little man is getting better by the day,” Dr. Long said as he patted his patient on the bum. The young man tottered out into the waiting room with little, cautious steps.

The woman took the young man into her arms and snuggled him to her bosom. “Thank you, doctor. I don’t know what we’d do without you,” the woman sighed gratefully.

“Always a pleasure. I look forward to seeing him again next week,” Dr. Long replied before returning to his office. The moment the door closed the woman’s demeanor changed. She grabbed her charge by the shoulders, held him at arm’s length, and looked him coldly in the eye.

“Johnny, it’s a long ride back. Can I trust my little soldier to make it all the way home?”

“Yes, maam,” the young man replied meekly. “Don’t gotta go. No messy.” Instead of the deep timbre of a teenager the young man’s voice was soft, high, and accented with the lisp of someone still learning the rudiments of speech.

“Ok, Johnny. Let’s go home,” the young man’s caretaker replied cheerfully. “But remember what happens to bad little boys who wet themselves in my lovely car.” She took Johnny by the hand and guided him out of the front door. As he passed, Wendy couldn’t help but notice how the boy’s pants bulged out around his hips and seat, how they crinkled when he walked. All the telltale sighs of an extra large padded diaper. As the door closed behind the two, the woman handed her charge a large juice box. “For the ride home, little Johnny,” she cooed as he greedily wrapped his lips around the straw and sucked greedily.

“The doctor will see you now,” the receptionist called. Wendy, the sting of a recent spanking still a painful memory, hopped to her feet and swished through the open office door and directly into Dr. Long’s care.

(Note: I do so enjoy writing these brief chapter's in Dr. Long's waiting room. So many other delightful fetishes to touch upon. I hope you enjoy them as much as I. If you would like to learn more about Dr. Long's other patients, what kind of mischief they get into, or what might happen if they meet Wendy in group therapy, please let me know. I truly appreciate your feedback, and a sissy ditz like me certainly needs it!)

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Widdle Wendy

Posted January 29th, 2021 ~ 2:07 pm

An extra long Chapter 6

Wendy sank into the thick cushions of the chair Dr. Long kept for his special patients. The doctor was already in his high-backed chair, seated casually and looking over his patient, appreciating every detail of Wendy’s feminine attire with hungry eyes.

“Welcome back, Wendy,” Dr. Long said. He took his notebook and silver pen in hand and glanced at his observations from last session.

“Please doctor,” Wendy begged, “my name is-“

“I’ll hear no more of that, Wendy. Remember our conversation from last time. I’m afraid my hands are tied.” As he spoke, the doctor’s eyes glanced from Wendy’s dainty wrists to the trailing ends of his ruffled bow, imagining for a moment how the patient might look with hands bound. Dr. Long broke form his reverie when Wendy sniffled. “Now now, Wendy. There will be no tears in my office today.” The doctor reached into his shirt pocket and produced a handkerchief he dutifully handed to Wendy.

The sissy dabbed at his tears and wiped his nose, too distracted by emotion and Dr. Long’s next barrage of words to notice the dry stain on the handkerchief or the telltale scent of post-coital cleanup.

“Today’s session is not about tears. Today’s session is about peace. Peace between you and yourself. Peace between you and your charming stepmother. And if you’re still skeptical about your treatment, peace between you and me.” Dr. Long snatched back the handkerchief and tucked it away before Wendy could regard it further. “Wendy, do you want peace?”

The sissy considered and signed, “I guess so.”

“I think you can do better than that, Wendy. In fact, I know you can do better than that. So I ask you again, do you,” Dr. Long pointed to Wendy with the shining tip of his pen, “want peace?”

“Y-yes.”

“Marvelous!” Dr. Long pressed a button on his desk, and in a flash his receptionist was through the door with her serving tray bearing two mugs. The doctor immediately grabbed the large black mug, filled to the brim with coffee. This left Wendy with a much smaller pink mug, more of a teacup really, decorated with a rosebud motif. The sissy accepted the mug and watched the receptionist depart, amazed at how she walked so smoothly and confidently on six inch heels.

“Before we continue, please take a sip and relax. I want you to feel absolutely at ease for today’s session.” Dr. Long stared intently as Wendy raised the mug to his lips and took a first sip, again surprised by the smooth, sweet flavor heavy with cream. The doctor waited until Wendy swallowed a third sip. Thinking of his special added ingredient now swirling in his patent’s stomach, Dr. Long continued.

“As I see it, much of your present distress comes from your relationship with your stepmother. A relationship, I must add, you continue to sabotage.”

“But, doctor, I-“

Dr. Long cut in again. “Your oral duties were the basis of that relationship and the reason your stepmother fought a hard legal battle to not only keep custody of you following her divorce to your father but also place you under her conservatorship following your eighteenth birthday. Elizabeth has done quite a lot for you and only asked one thing in return, one thing you refuse to do. That, dear Wendy, is willful sabotage.” Seeing Wendy suitably flustered, Dr. Long sat back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap just above where a prominent tent was forming in his pants.

“I just couldn’t do it any more, doctor. The taste-“

Dr. Long leaned forward, his looming presence and penetrating gaze enough to silence Wendy before the sissy could start to ramble. “Before we stray too far from the topic at hand, I would like you to tell me, in your own simple words, your history with your stepmother. I fully understand this may take a while, so please have some more tea so your throat doesn’t tire.”

Wendy took another sip, then a full gulp of warm tea, and for the first time put words to the whirlwind of strange experiences Elizabeth had brought into his life.

Wendy recounted the shock he felt when his father brought Elizabeth home after meeting her at a three day business conference and announced they were already engaged. The sissy recalled how overwhelmed he was by Elizabeth’s glamour, always stunned by her beautiful outfits and flawless makeup. He breathlessly confessed the shame he felt at the wedding.

Wendy was to be ring bearer, but the flower girl - Elizabeth’s niece - had taken sick just before the ceremony. After a hasty discussion with the wedding planner, who pointed out Wendy and the flower girl were practically the same size, Wendy was whisked away, stripped, and dressed in the flower girl’s lace dress and bonnet, made to skip down the aisle scattering white rose petals while Elizabeth’s burley nephew served as ring bearer and forced Wendy to dance with him at the reception. It was the first time the sissy was ever called Wendy, and the last time Elizabeth would ever use the name Wendall.

From that day forward Elizabeth only referred to the sissy as Wendy, at first with a cruel sneer and eventually with the same familiarity reserved for a beloved child’s true name. As Wendy’s father became more browbeaten and dominated by his new bride, he too was cowed into only referring to his son in the feminine. As Elizabeth took over more of the household affairs and finances she slowly replaced all of Wendy’s boxers and briefs with panties and training bras.

Wendy panted when the memory of the event that changed everything came rushing back. Elizabeth came into Wendy’s room, now repainted pastel pink, in the middle of the night. Tipsy from an evening on the town with Alice and having long since lost interest in her husband due to his numerous sexual deficiencies, Elizabeth crawled into Wendy’s bed, lifted the hem of her sequined cocktail dress, and straddled his face. Startled to wakefulness, Wendy was lulled by Elizabeths encouraging coos and accepted his first lesson in pleasing a woman with his tongue.

The scene repeated itself a month later, and again the week after. Elizabeth’s nightly visits became more frequent, her lessons more prolonged and complex. One night Elizabeth presented Wendy with an off the shoulder party dress in buttercup yellow, making it clear their nightly dalliances would only continue if Wendy was dressed en femme. Enraptured in an erotic haze, Wendy agreed. Elizabeth was so thrilled she allowed him to touch himself as she settled down onto his face.

Soon Wendy was spending all her nights in frocks, dresses, gowns, and lingerie just in case his stepmother was inspired to check in after hours and seek the services of his increasingly skillful tongue. So it went. Elizabeth’s nightly visits only increased after the divorce, and again after placing Wendy in a conservatorship. Wendy dreamed of the day his stepmother would let him enter her with his laughable penis, though that day never came. Elizabeth slapped Wendy once for even suggesting it, though she did on occasion begrudgingly consent to taking the rosebud head of his cocklette between her thumb and forefinger and jerk him to a fluttering, dribbling climax as she ground her sex into his nose.

So it went until Wendy came to the moment he discovered all those nights he spent servicing his stepmother she had already serviced a growing roster of lovers. Wendy had not only been tasting Elizabeth’s delectable pussy, he had been tasting, swallowing, and savoring the thick ejaculate of her many beaus.

Wendy shook with disgust and shame, the empty mug falling from his delicate hands.

“I see,” Dr. Long spoke after a long silence. “And it was at that moment you selfishly closed your mouth to Elizabeth, denying the both of you your greatest shared gratification.

A cross look spread across Wendy’s face, cheeks flushing red as an outburst built up in the sissy’s quaking body.

“Wendy, I can see unburdening yourself has left you quite distressed and spoiled your focus. Don’t worry. We don’t have to discuss your stepmother any more today. But before we can continue I need you to regain your focus.” Dr. Long bent down and plucked Wendy’s mug from the floor, taking a moment to peek up the sissy’s skirt and admire the small stain of precum nearly an hour of steamy confession produced on the sissy’s panties. Sitting back up, he placed the mug on his desk, “Will you let me help you regain your focus?”

Wendy huffed, breathed a ragged sigh, and saw throwing a hissy fit in front of Dr. Long would only lead to another tearful march back to the car. “Yes,” Wendy puffed.

“Yes what, Wendy?”

“Yes, doctor. Please help me regain my focus.”

“Excellent. I find anyone, no matter how distressed, can regain their focus with a simple exercise.” Dr. Long produced his silver fountain pen and held it before Wendys eyes, catching the light just so. “I want you to start by focusing on something simple, like this pen. Focus on the tip. Good.” Dr. Long moved the pen to his left in a long ark. “Can you focus on my pen over here?”

Wendy’s eyes followed the pen. “Yes, doctor.”

“Can you focus on it over here?” Dr. Long brought the pen low, its tip just barely touching the outline of his cock head where it pressed against the fabric of his trouser leg, and Wendy's eyes followed. “And here?” Dr. Long gave Wendy no chance to respond as he held out the pen far to the right. “And here?”

“Yes, doctor.” Wendy had already forgotten about his bubbling anger, his little mind perplexed wondering exactly how this exercise is supposed to help.

“And can you focus on it here?” Dr. Long brought the tip of his pen directly between his grey eyes. Wendy’s eyes followed, and for a moment the sissy was dumbstruck as the doctor’s cold gaze seemed to penetrate into his skull.

“Yes, doctor,” Wendy responded slowly with confusion, almost as if she were asking a question.

Dr. Long continued to move the tip of his shiny silver pen in long arcs, encouraging Wendy to focus on it and follow, follow and focus. Using the pen as a lure, the doctor continued to bring Wendy’s gaze to his chest, his crotch, his eyes, and back again. Every time Wendy started to notice a pattern to the pen’s gentle movements, those movements changed. Confused, Wendy could only focus deeper on the pen’s shiny tip, as if he could solve the mystery of its movements if his mind would only follow and focus, focus and follow.

Dr. Long chuckled to himself as Wendy’s head bobbed left and right, up and town, in circles clockwise and counterclockwise, following the movement of the pen wherever it went. The doctor continued to coax his patient with his deep, rich voice, asking simple questions where the only possible answers were follow and focus, focus and follow. In time Wendy’s repeated response of “Yes, doctor” grew fainter and slower. When his patient’s voice fell to a barely audible lisp, Dr. Long brought the tip of his pen between his deep gray eyes one final time.

“You’re doing so well, Wendy,” Dr. Long drew out each word. “So focused. So focussed upon my pen. So focused upon my worlds. Following and focused. Focused and following. You’re so good at this exercise, Wendy. You’re doing so well focusing and following, following and focusing. I want you to focus once more, follow once more, as we bring your focus somewhere safe, somewhere soft and safe. Would you like focus and follow, follow and focus, somewhere safe and soft?”

“yeees,” Wendy slurred, hanging on the doctor’s every word.

“Then focus and follow, follow and focus.” Dr. Long slowly turned the pen in his hand, pointing the tip directly at Wendy. “Focus and follow.” Dr. Long slowly leaned forward, extending his hand as be brought the pen ever closer to his patient’s slack face and hollow eyes. “Follow and focus.” The doctor rose to his feet and took a step forward, the pen so close Wendy had to cross her eyes to keep its tip perfectly in focus. “Follow somewhere safe and soft, focus on something soft and safe.” Dr. Long towered over Wendy, the tip of his glimmering pen an inch from from its target. “Follow and focus, focus and follow, somewhere safe and soft, soft and safe.”

“Safansof…follafocuth,” Wendy mumbled as his overwhelmed mind attempted to repeat the doctor’s instructions.

“Focus and follow, follow and focus, on the center. Of. Your. Mind.” On this final word Dr. Long tapped the middle of Wendy’s forehead with the tip of his silver pen. The sissy collapsed into the deep cushions of the chair, eyes rolling back and fluttering shut.

Dr. Long reached over and dimmed the lights, admiring his handiwork. The sight of Wendy sprawled on the chair, helplessly and hopelessly in trance, made his blood race. He listened to his patient’s deep, rhythmic breathing, calming himself and remembering he had a job to do. The next step of Wendy’s treatment could truly begin.

“Wendy, can you hear me?” Dr. Long asked and he slowly undid his belt.

Wendy’s sleeping face grimaced slightly in confusion. The doctor cut in smoothly, “You are in your own mind now, following and focussed, focussed and following on your innermost thoughts. You may remember the name Wendall, but here the names Wendall and Wendy, Wendy and Wendall are both the same. Wendall and Wendy, Wendy and Wendall are such comfortable names, you find when you follow and focus, focus and follow, you can use either name so easily. And when you use Wendy for Wendell it helps you follow and focus, focus and follow. Do you understand . . . Wendy?”

Wendy immediately relaxed, his face once again free of expression, his mind free of thought or doubt. “Yes, doctor,” he whispered.

Dr. Long smiled, rolling up his belt and placing it on his desk. “Very good, Wendy. While you continue to follow and focus, focus and follow on your innermost mind, where you are soft and safe, where everything is safe and soft, I am going to give you some special medicine. This medicine is so easy to take, especially by a good patient like you, a patient that knows how to focus and follow, follow and focus.” As he spoke, the doctor unbuttoned his pants and slowly drew down his fly.

“yes . . . medicine,” Wendy signed.

“You want this medicine, Wendy. You need this medicine.”

“Yes. doctor. Need medicine,” Wendy breathed.

Dr. Long dropped his pants to the floor and stepped out of them, standing before his patient in nothing but a crisp button-down shirt, black socks, and a bulging jockstrap. He’d worn this jockstrap to work, the gym, and in bed for five days straight. The support pouch, once of pristine white cotton, was dark with stains. It reeked of sweat, exertion, and maleness.

Admiring himself in the mirror hung on the office door, the doctor continued. “Breath for me, Wendy. In through your nose, out through your mouth. In through your mouth, out through your nose.” Dr. Long slowly and rhythmically repeated these instructions until he was satisfied with the slow, deep pattern of Wendy’s breathing. “The medicine I am going to give you is very special, Wendy.” The doctor ran his thumbs along the elastic waistband of his jockstrap, relishing the sweat-crusted feel of the material. “This medicine is not a pill or a shot. You do not need to swallow or even think to take this medicine.” Dr. Long slid off his jockstrap, letting his impressive penis and heavy testicles swing free, relishing the caress of the air on his most sensitive places. “All you have to do to take this special medicine is breath. It is as easy as breathing from an oxygen mask, as relaxing as aromatherapy.” Dr Long leaned over Wendy’s entranced form. “Wendy, be a good patient and hold still while I place this breathing mask over your mouth and nose.”

“Yes, doctor. Hold still.”

Dr. Long lifted Wendy’s head slightly, placing his dirty jockstrap over the sissy’s head until the support pouch completely covered his mouth and nose, the waistband and straps adjusted to keep it all in place. Satisfied, the doctor gently laid Wendy’s head back down into the soft support of the cushions and gave one simple command.

“Breath!”

Drawing in a long breath of air through her nose, Wendy shuddered as the overwhelmingly masculine scent of the jockstrap filled his senses. Wendy exhaled, sinking deeper into her chair. And so it went, in through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the mouth, out through the nose in a perpetual cycle. The rich odor of Dr. Long filled Wendy’s senses, taste and scent made hypersensitive in trance.

Dr. Long sat back in his chair observing Wendy’s breathing, smiling as it grew deeper, more intense. He let his scent work on his patient for a minute, then another, and at last proceeded to the next step.

“Yes, Wendy. Breath. Breath deep. Breath the medicine in and let it fill you. Hold it in your lungs. Feel the medicine spread throughout your body, flowing in your blood, clouding your mind. Breath the medicine out and feel it carry all your stress, all your anxieties, all your shame away. Let it carry away your anger, your guilt, and your jealousy. Let it carry away everything that separates you from your stepmother.”

Dr. Long repeated these words again. The sight of Wendy sprawled in the chair, his sissy body gently heaving with each intoxicating breath, was becoming too much for him to bear. Dr. Long reached down, taking his swollen cock in hand, and stroked himself gently to the rhythm of his patient’s breathing.

Wendy’s head was swimming. Deep within his mind this wonderful medicine was all he could smell, all he could taste. As Dr. Long’s words and pungent scent filled Wendy’s mind they became the sissy’s whole world.

“This special medicine has made you feel so good, hasn’t it Wendy?”

“Sooo goooood,” Wendy moaned.

“Remember the smell of this medicine, Wendy. This medicine fills your senses so fully you can taste it, you can feel it.”

“Yes, doctor. Smell, taste, feel!”

“Remember, Wendy. Remember this scent. Remember this taste. Remember every detail of this wonderful medicine. Let every nuanced sensation imprint itself upon your mind, your mind that is so soft and safe, safe and soft. Let this medicine become a part of you”

“Yes. A part of me.” Wendy’s hands slowly moved over the soft velvet of his dress, oractically groping himself in an attempt to actually touch the intoxicating medicine he imagines flowing through his veins.

“You love this medicine, don’t you Wendy?”

“Yes doctor. Love it.”

“You want more of this medicine, don’t you Wendy?”

“Yes, more.” The longing in Wendy’s voice was palpable.

“Very good, Wendy. Now, you have focused so well, followed so completely, and had so much medicine it is time to end out session.”

“End?” The sissy sounded truly disappointed, and even with his face hidden behind the rank support pouch of a jockstrap, it was obvious Wendy was pouting.

“Yes, Wendy. Breath in one last wonderful dose of your medicine and sit up straight.”

Wendy took his deepest breath yet, savoring one final lungful of the damp, manly odor. As his lungs fulled, he rose from the cushions and sat ramrod straight, his head cast down slightly and his hands folded in his lap like a proper lady’s.

“You have had a full dose of special medicine today,” Dr. Long said as he removed his jockstrap from Wendy’s head. “But this medicine made you feel so good you want more.”

“Yes, more,” Wendy repeated, snuffing the cool air as if to catch one last whiff.

“I will give you more special medicine at your next appointment. Until then, you may catch the sent of this medicine when you are out and about in the world. If you do, it is ok to breath deep, breath in as much of this medicine as you find. It will fill you and make you feel as good as the special medicine I give you here. Do you understand, Wendy.”

“Yes, doctor. Find medicine. Breath medicine.”

“You are doing so well, Wendy. Now, you are going to do something for me, something you will find so easy to do because you are so good and following and focusing, focusing and following. When you emerge for your innermost mind, where you are soft and safe and everything is safe and soft, you will not remember what passed after you began your focusing exercise. You will not remember my words or the special medicine, though it will all remain forever imprinted in the soft and safe place in your innermost mind. You will remember only that you were very good at the focusing exercise. You will be so proud of how you focused and followed, followed and focussed. You will also do one small favor for me. When you leave this office you will speak to my receptionist. You will tell her Dr. Long is ready with your tea. This will seem perfectly natural, and as soon as you say it you will forget it, letting the words vanish from your thoughts. Do you understand, Wendy?”

“Yes, doctor. Dr. long is ready with your tea.”

“Wonderful. Now it is time for you to emerge from your innermost mind. You will emerge relaxed, happy, and thankful that you have such a good, caring doctor who you trust completely. Do you understand, Wendy?”

“Yes, doctor. Completely.”

“Very good, Wendy. Now, I want you to count from zero to one hundred, and when you reach one hundred you will emerge from your innermost mind. Ready, count!”

Wendy began the slow count up, her numbers slow and slurred and first but becoming clearer and faster as they climbed higher. While his patient was preoccupied counting, Dr. Long slipped his jockstrap back on, the support pouch still warm from Wendy’s breath. He slid on his pants, neglecting to zip up the fly or replace his belt, and sat back down in his high-backed chair using his notepad to cover his obvious erection, composing himself just as Wendy reached the top of the count.

“Ninety-nine. One hundred.” Wendy’s eyes flickered open and sunny smile spread across his face. “That focusing exercise was easy,” Wendy said in an unusually chipper voice. “I think I did great!”

“You certainly did, Wendy. Well, our time is up. Why don’t you run along?”

“Thank you, doctor.” Wendy rose from the chair and opened the door to the waiting room, stepping out with more ease and confidence than the sissy had ever shown before.

Dr. Long waited a moment, and just as expected his receptionist entered the room, locking the door behind her. The receptionist, always so perky and attentive in the waiting room, had a wide eyed, dreamy expression. “I like my tea nice and hot, Dr. Long,” the receptionist said in a slow monotone.

Dr. Long tossed his notepad aside, reaching into his pants and freeing his large member. “I serve my tea nice and hot,” Dr. Long said clearly, with authority.

His words flipped a switch in the receptionist’s mind. She fell to her knees and crawled to her employer. She licked her lips and opened her mouth into a wet O, staring up at the head Dr. Long’s penis as if it was the most delicious thing in the world. Oh course, in her innermost mind it was.

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sissy servant 737-829-633

Posted January 29th, 2021 ~ 4:33 pm

@ Widdle Wendy

TRIGGERS! Unknown triggers that lead to an unknown place at unknown times with unknown knowledge of it's presence.. Soft and safe,, soft and safe,

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Widdle Wendy

Posted January 30th, 2021 ~ 1:48 am

@ sissy servant 737-829-633

You just might see a post hypnotic trigger express itself in the next installment. Hypnosis is one of my favorite forms of conditioning!

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Widdle Wendy

Posted January 31st, 2021 ~ 11:23 pm

Chapter 7

Several days later Wendy perched on the rim of his stepmother’s elegant clawfoot bathtub begrudgingly scrubbing away the soapy residue of a luxuriant bubble bath. In full maid’s uniform complete with black patent leather strapless pumps and poofy hair flower, each adorned with an identical black satin bow trimmed in white lace, the sissy was perfectly dressed for domestic service. Elizabeth, however, was dressed to paint the town red.

Wendy’s stepmother sat before her vanity in a blazing red strapless mermaid gown, her hair freshly permed and cascading to her shoulders in black ringlets. Applying just enough mascara to appear flirty, she spoke to her sissy without taking her eyes off her reflection. “I expect all your chores completed by the time I get home, and don’t think for a second that just because Roger is likely to keep me out all night you can take your sweet time.”

Elizabeth replaced the applicator and put her mascara to the test. She batted her eyelashes, gave a flirtatious wink, then lowered her eyelids in smoldering glare hungry with desire. “Oh, you absolute minx,” Elizabeth complimented her reflection. She blew herself a kiss, then rose to her feet.

“When you’ve finished with your chores you may have supper,” Elizabeth continued. “I’ve prepared a lovely dish for you. A ring of pineapple topped with a hearty scoop of cottage cheese. It’ll do wonders for your figure.” Elizabeth reached down and pinched a bit of flesh at Wendy’s waist, producing a squeak of discomfort from the sissy’s lips. “And trust me darling, your figure could do with a little wonder. Now, put down that scrub brush and help me with my wrap.”

Wendy left the brush at the bottom of the tub and removed his rubber cleaning gloves, letting them hang limply over the rim. His pump heels clicked along the black and white tiles as he crossed to the bathroom door where Elizabeth’s wrap hung from a cedar hanger. The wrap, soft as satin and light as gossamer, slipped easily from the hanger into the sissy’s arms. The elegant black fabric trailed in the air as Wendy turned to face his stepmother, her arms spread to accept the final piece of her ensemble. Wendy practically danced around Elizabeth in little mincing steps as he hung the delicate wrap over her left arm, down her pack, and over her right arm. The black of her wrap contrasted beautifully with her red gown, and when the last fold of fabric settled into place Elizabeth turned before her vanity mirror, inspecting her stepsissy’s handiwork. Pleased, Elizabeth flirted with her reflection. “Oh, you still could send young men’s hearts aflutter!”

Wendy knew this to be true. Even after months of Elizabeth’s cruel discipline, constant assaults on his dwindling masculinity, and the tension between them since he first refused her oral service, her elegance and icy beauty still left him stunned. Wendy took a step back to fully appreciate his stepmother’s charms. At the first click of heel on tile Elizabeth whirled around, her wraps and skirts flaring, and jabbed an accusing finder under Wendy’s nose.

“Do you think you have time to waste standing there gawping? You have far too much work to do. I don’t want to come back from a lovely evening on the town to find any of your chores half done. If you’re still puttering around the house like a lazy…”

The doorbell rang, halting Elizabeth’s rant before she could get to her reserve of emasculating threats. Her face brightened and a flush of excitement ran through her body. “Roger’s here!” Elizabeth floated across the room and out the door like a prom queen going to accept her crown. As she passed through the house to greet her swain at the front door she called back to Wendy, “And be sure you’re in bed before I return. Roger may stay over tonight, and you know how he feels about crossdressers. Remember what happened the last time he caught you all dolled up!”

Wendy wrapped his arms around himself at the memory. When he heard the front door open and close, and Roger’s sports car peeled out of the drive, the sissy picked of the thin rubber gloves from the rim of the tub and slid them on over his supple fingers.

Sometime later Wendy sat in the kitchen poking at a half eaten pineapple ring with a dainty salad fork. The sissy’s arms and knees were sore from what felt like hours of scrubbing, sweeping, polishing, dusting, and lugging a heavy vacuum cleaner and carpet shampooer from room to room. A cleaning service used to come by once a week to tidy up and was even on call in case of large unexpected messes, and goodness knows Elizabeth and her growing roster of lovers could leave a large unexpected mess, but Elizabeth had dismissed them weeks ago. If Wendy refused to perform oral cleanup, Elizabeth reasoned, the little sissy could clean up something else. The workload and the sissy’s own lack of skill meant nearly endless domestic tasks, and the ride to and from Long Behavioral Associates was one of the few idle periods left to Wendy. Indeed, Wendy suspected his stepmother was leaving behind little bits of clutter and disorder intentionally to keep him busy as punishment for his self-imposed oral celibacy.

Wendy’s dietary options had suffered as well. As Elizabeth spent more evenings and weekends out with her lady friends and various paramours she was less inclined to dine at home, letting the contents of the household larder dwindle to to a few bland staples. Wendy meekly objected, pleading for the red meat, cheese, and soda he so enjoyed before Elizabeth divorced his father and whisked him into a new life of enforced femininity. His stepmother would hear none of it, only deigning to restock the refrigerator on those rare occasions she wished to entertain a lover at home. Such a circumstance occasioned a lengthy trip to the local market where Wendy, decked out in a flower-pattered housedress and leatherette pumps, struggled to keep up pushing a cart leaden with rich food and red wine as his stepmother flitted from aisle to aisle.

The laborious chores and low calorie diet were all to improve Wendy’s “girlish figure,” or so Elizabeth said, almost always with a cruel chuckle and a poke the sissy’s belly and thighs. But this diet had changed recently. Following some bit of medical advice from Dr. Long, the details of which he refused to disclose because of his peculiar professional ethics, Elizabeth had stocked the fridge from top to bottom with white plastic tubs of yogurt, cottage cheese, light cream, flavored weight loss shakes. The tubs bore no label or manufacturer’s mark so far as Wendy could tell, only the name of its contents in black marker handwritten in an oversized looping scrawl. Elizabeth insisted everything in the tubs was fresh, organic, locally sourced, and left the mystery of their origins at that. If Wendy wasn’t usually mad with hunger by the time he tore into one of the tubs he might have noticed some were also marked with a small date, often in a prim handwriting far different from the casually florid writing on the lid.

Wendy bit the last scrap of pineapple from the tip of his fork and enjoyed the tangy sweetness, likely the last appetizing thing he would eat unless his stepmother elected to reward him with another slice of fruit tomorrow. He stared down at the cottage cheese on his elegant china plate, considering just dumping it down the sink before his gurgling stomach reminded him of his aching hunger. Wendy replaced the salad fork on the napkin beside the plate and pick up a dessert spoon. With a loud sigh the sissy dipped his spoon into the lumpy white mass, scooping up a thick, dripping spoonful. Wendy parted his lips and brought the first bite to his mouth. The cottage cheese was almost odorless, almost flavorless. Almost.

As the first bite slid over Wendy’s tongue and down his gullet he was surprised to find he didn’t hate it. There was something about this new brand of cottage cheese he couldn’t quite identify. True, it didn’t taste good. But it didn’t taste bad, and Wendy found with each spoonful it became a little bit more satisfying. Soon Wendy stared down at an empty plate.

Glancing at the clock, Wendy took note of the hour and gathered up the dishes. If he cleaned them now they could have some time to himself before his Stepmother returned.

As Wendy carried his plate, utensils, and glass to the sink a small, unladylike burp escaped his lips. “Oh, pardon me,” he chirped.

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Widdle Wendy

Posted February 2nd, 2021 ~ 5:00 am

Chapter 8

Wendy curled up in the soft folds of a large, fuzzy beanbag chair. The sissy had torn off his maid uniform, and after thinking better of himself properly hung said uniform up in his closet, and now lounged in a red-and-white-striped camisole top trimmed in white lace and matching satin shorts. Wendy looked for all the world like a peppermint in the middle of a puff of cotton candy.

A spread of fashion magazines and pre code romance comics encircled Wendy’s nest of pink fuzz. The sissy idly flipped through the pages of Cosmopolitan before losing interest, shifting position and running his delicate fingertips over the four-color pages of My Own Romance.

Ever since his stepmother Elizabeth began her feminization campaign Wendy’s choice of leisure activities was limited. Gone were his favorite action movies, now replaced with DVDs of The Perils of Pauline, The Donna Reed Show, and Legally Blonde. His anime collection, once awash with violence and hyper-sexualized women, was replaced with the likes of Ouran High School Host Club, Princess-Princess, and Yuri!!! On ICE. Absent was his deliberately curated selection of science fiction and fantasy novels, their shelf space taken up by tawdry bodice rippers, regency romances, and volume after volume of traditional fairytales in hardback.

Video games were expressly forbidden in Elizabeth’s household, as was lazily staring at the TV at all hours. Thanks to a special arrangement with the local cable provider Wendy’s small flat screen television received only girly children’s cartoons, fairytale musicals, cooking shows, home redecoration showcases, and low impact aerobics and jazzercise videos targeted to women looking to slim down and improve their “girlish figures,” as his stepmother mockingly put it.

Wendy’s only connection to the outside world was his smartphone. Once a simple matte black appliance, the phone had been snatched up by Elizabeth on the day her divorce was finalized and returned a week later epoxied into a gaudy case textured with whorls of simulated frosting in pink and white and adorned with acrylic strawberries, cherries, and multi-colored hearts. The phone had been modified internally as well. Gone were Wendy’s old contacts, replaced with a short list of stepmother-approved numbers. All other numbers were blocked. If Wendy wanted to call or text anyone besides Elizabeth, her lawyers, or Long Behavioral Associates he was out of luck. The phone’s internet access was also heavily restricted, granting access to only a handful of “safe” sites. Wendy had been refused access to all social media until only recently, when at Dr. Long’s suggestion Elizabeth had signed him up for an account on Sissykiss. Wendy would have ignored the site entirely, except his stepmother kept tack of all his activity and insisted he spend at least a half hour every day browsing the Sissykiss forums and chatroom “networking.” Though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, not even himself, it was a site he was growing to love.

Wendy reached the last panel of “A Thing of Beauty!” and turned the page, his eyes tracing the sensitive Giorgano lines of “It Happened to Me!” Strangely captivated by the words and images of the comics page, he felt the weariness of the day creep over him. Wendy gathered his reading material into a little pile and placed it next to the diary with the glittery purple cover adorned with a prancing unicorn in virginal white on the corner of his pink and white writing desk. He crossed the room to draw back the soft covers of his canopy bed and turn out the overhead light, then on impulse turned on the bedside lamp with the pink shade. He retrieved My Own Romance from the top of his reading pile and snuggled up under the covers, letting the comic book tale of young lovers cary him to sleep.

Wendy had barely slept an hour, his mind lost in a vivid dream something inside him compelled him to forget, when the sound of Elizabeth and Roger bursting through the front door roused him to full wakefulness. The two laughed, chattered, and galumphed drunkenly across the foyer. Wendy couldn’t make out anything they were saying, but it was clear neither could finish a statement before the other cut them off with a deep kiss. There was a grunt, a playful yelp, and a rustle of skirts followed by Roger’s heavy footfalls as he carried an insatiable Elizabeth up the stairs to the master bedroom that just so happened to be directly above Wendy’s. The lovers wasted no time.

Wendy longed to return to his dreams, but the din of his stepmother’s lovemaking made sleep impossible. The banging of the headboard, the creaking of bedsprings, moaning, shouting, and dirty talk that would make a whore blush echoed throughout the house. Wendy threw his blanked up over his head to no avail. He buried his head under a pillow, but it made little difference. The sound of Roger thrusting into his stepmother again and again was all he could hear. Whenever the pace slackened and their raucous coupling subsided Elizabeth groaned vulgar encouragement and Roger redoubled his efforts, soliciting a cascade of uninhibited moans.

Wendy tossed, turned, and eventually flopped onto his back, resigned to a sleepless night. There he lay, ramrod straight, arms at his sides, staring up at the ceiling through the filmy canopy of his bed listening to two lovers share their bodies fully.

Through the course of the night - an hour, two? - Elizabeth’s moans built to a screaming climax, the house stilling in the aftermath. Not getting his hopes up, Wendy lay stock still in the bed, eyes glued to the ceiling, waiting for round two. The silence persisted, and slowly Wendy’s tension abated. He rolled onto his side, curled up under his plush blanket, and let his natural weariness close his eyes.

The opening notes of “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” tinkled in the air. Wendy’s eyes snapped open to see his phone vibrating on the edge of the bedside table indicating a priority text from his stepmother. Of course these days Elizabeth insisted all her texts were a priority. Wendy reached out for his candy colored phone and brought up the message.

Be a dear and toss our clothes in the wash.

Wendy huffed, threw off the covers, and rose from his bed hoping the laundry basket was where he’d left it.

A few moments later Wendy crept up the stairs, a willow laundry basket hanging from his arm by its woven handle. The sissy could hear the shower running as he approached the door of the master bedroom. The bedroom door had been left open a crack and Wendy peeked through. To his relief neither Elizabeth nor her boyfriend were anywhere to be seen. Wendy pushed the door open, walked in on tiptoe and did a quick circuit of the room. One by one he plucked the clothes Elizabeth and Roger shed so hastily in their dash to make love from where they lay on the floor, the furniture, and the bedside lamp.

Over the rush of water from the shower Wendy heard his stepmother’s playful giggle and a growl of arousal from Roger. The sissy hurried to toss the rest of their clothes into the basket, dreading what might happen if either caught sight of him struggling to finish an assigned task in his girly pajamas. Satisfied everything had been gathered up, Wendy skittered for the door just as an unseen hand turned off the water in the bathroom.

Halfway through the door something caught Wendy’s eye. Turning on his heel, the sissy zeroed in on Roger’s black silk boxers where they had fallen half under the kingsize bed. Fearful of the telltale click of the adjoining bathroom door opening, Wendy ran back into the bedroom and grabbed for the boxers. He snatched the satiny undergarment from the floor and brought it halfway to the basked when something tingled in his mind, something familiar and secret that vanished from his memory as soon as he felt it. Wendy paused, brought the silken boxers to his nose and inhaled.

Sometime later, while a load of laundry tumbled in the washing machine, Wendy lay abed holding Roger’s dirty boxers tightly over his nose and mouth, his left hand down the front of his own candy-striped satin shorts playing over his three inch nub. Wendy breathed deeply, letting the odor of Roger’s maleness fill his senses with an intoxicating reek. Unknowing and uncaring of the impulse that guided him Wendy panted, taking in great gulps of the masculine fragrance and manipulating his inadequate organ with thumb and forefinger just as his stepmother once taught him.

The sissy worked himself into a frenzy, the swatch of soiled black fabric held under his nose his whole world. Wendy didn’t even hear when Elizabeth and Roger began their third round of lovemaking. Head swimming, hips thrusting, fingers teasing, Roger’s silk boxers guided Wendy to a shuddering orgasm.

When his quivering subsided and he at last caught his breath, Wendy stretched languidly. With a smile on his lips and a thick stain spreading through the stripes of his satin shorts, Wendy lost himself to sleep.

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Widdle Wendy

Posted February 3rd, 2021 ~ 2:15 pm

Chapter 9

Elizabeth and her lifelong friend Alice lay facedown on soft padded massage tables, a handsome young masseuse gently placing hot stones along the gentle curves of their spines. A day of mud and mineral baths, aromatherapy, and hot oil massages left the women in a state of near perfect bliss, and as gentle tones of a reed pipe drifted from hidden speakers and the smoke of sandalwood incense lazily curled in the air, the two felt the last of their cares drifting away.

The masseuse slowly pulled away the towels draped over Alice and Elizabeth’s backsides leaving them both reclining nude, caressed by the warm, perfumed air. He placed more hot stones on their backs, buttocks, thighs, and the gentle pressure and consistent heat of each polished basalt stone melted away all their burdens. Elizabeth and Alice drifted like oil over a gently rolling warm sea of subtle pleasures.

His work done, the masseuse silently padded out of the room on his slippered feet. The two women watched him depart with languid eyes, each admiring the outline of his toned muscles through the crisp white fabric of his shorts and polo shirt. Yes, they though almost as one, I must inquire about a special private session.

If only Wendy and Brian were present to see the smiles blossoming on the faces of their respective dommes. Smiles without a hint of cruelty, mockery, or a predatory glimpse of teeth. These were gentle smiles of pure, gracious contentment. These were smiles the two deficient males would never have the joy of seeing.

“Lizzy, darling,” Alice purred.

“Hmm?” Elizabeth sighed as the heated stone at the small of her back completely liquefied the kink Hank had put there the night before with his overeager thrusting.

“That cleansing brunch of fresh citrus and greek yogurt that opened our little spa day put me in mind to ask, how is your stepson taking to his new diet?”

“Swimmingly. The little fairy can’t get enough of his new liquid diet or Dr. Long’s special additive. Wendy’s getting a healthy dose of sperm three meals a day.”

“Three times a day?” Alice gasped. “I know Russ is a virile specimen, but surely even he can’t produce enough fresh ball batter to top off a full week’s worth of plastic tubs before every appointment.”

“Dr. Long isn’t working alone,” Elizabeth replied. “I sweet-talked my lovers into helping out. They’re all quite eager to aid Wendy’s treatment, especially when it means a little extra attention from my loving hands.” At that Elizabeth made a mental note book an exfoliating pedicure for tomorrow. Philip was coming over for supper, and as the more sophisticated of her three suitors, he favored the sensual caress of a woman’s feet. “Between the four of them I’ve managed to sneak a fresh load into every one of Wendy’s meals. If my little sissy notices the difference it’s only made her hungrier. She used to turn her nose up at cottage cheese, goats milk, and greek yogurt, but now she gobbles it all up without complaint.”

“You see? I told you my doctor would improve Wendy’s appetites,” Alice said with much satisfaction.

“Oh, but I do wish Dr. Long would hurry,” Elizabeth pouted. “I’m not sure I can go another week without my darling Wendy’s soothing tongue.”

“These thing’s can’t be rushed, dear,” Alice said. “It took weeks of couple’s therapy before Brian forgave me for my first affair. Well, the first he knew of anyway. It took another month of private sessions for him to accept Eduard’s role in our marriage, another to learn to love the taste of our bull’s thick spend in my snatch, and another to embrace the feeling of another man’s cock in his mouth. Your Wendy is going to blossom into exactly the kind of sissy you want her to be. It’s only a matter of time.”

“You’re right, as always,” Elizabeth sighed. After a moment’s silent musing she spoke again. “Did you see the way our masseuse was looking us over? I could practically feel his eyes boring into my pussy. I wonder if he’d like to give it a taste.”

“I wouldn’t mind a bit of his attention myself.”

“Alice, don’t you dare! I saw him first, and while I’me sure he appreciated your many assets, his hungry eyes eventually settled on mine.”

“Well,” Alice huffed, “my Brian is paying for our spa day and-“

Elizabeth’s head to give Alice a scorching look and cut her off with a hiss. “Just because your milksop of a husband is bankrolling our little self care doesn’t give you the right to-“

Elizabeth cut herself off as the masseuse returned carrying a bowl of aromatic salts.

Alice and Elizabeth ran their eyes over the masseuse’s body appreciatively as he prepared for their full body salt scrub.

“You misunderstand me, darling,” Alice whispered. She reached from her massage table and twined her fingers with Elizabeth’s. “This is our spa day. We can share.”

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Widdle Wendy

Posted February 3rd, 2021 ~ 6:04 pm

Chapter 10

For the first time, Wendy sat by himself in the waiting room of Long Behavioral Associates. Elizabeth, the sissy’s stepmother, had booked a pedicure for the same hour normally reserved for Wendy’s treatments, and rather than the usual humiliating walk down a busy city street she had dropped her charge off at the front door and shooed him in with a swat on the fanny. If only her schedule hadn’t been so tight! Today of all days she would have relished the stares of all and sundry as she marched her stepson from the parking lot to the office. The ensemble she had picked out for Wendy, based in part on Dr. Long’s learned advice, was the most feminine and humiliating yet.

Wendy’s dress, of confection in robin’s egg blue with puffed sleeves and layer after layer of crinoline petticoats, was cut above the knee. However, the overabundance of petticoats puffed out the dress to the point that little was left to the imagination. Wendy’s cotton rhumba panties were in full view. Blue cotton knee high socks, each toped with lace ruffles and a black satin bow, complemented the sissy’s legs which, thanks to his new diet, were growing more toned and shapely by the day. For those who couldn’t see enough of Wendy’s skirts or panties, his patent leather doll shoes were buffed and shined to a mirror finish, giving anyone who wanted to peek a look straight up the sissy’s dress.

The lace-trimmed strings of a virginal white pinafore were cinched tightly around Wendy’s diminishing waistline. The sissy wore white lace gloves to match, and a petite handbag adorned with ruffles and bows hung by a spaghetti strap from a delicate wrist.

A headband topped with an oversized ruffled bow completed the ensemble. The bow bounced and bobbed with every mincing step and couldn’t help but draw attention to Wendy’s blushing cheeks.

Strangely, Wendy felt more vulnerable in the waiting room without his stepmother’s domineering presence. The men in the room played their eyes over Wendy with looks of disgust, sympathy, and desire. Their wives, mistresses, and caretakers regarded the sissy with eyes at once critical and predatory. They saw Wendy as a model for their men to emulate, a toy for them to break, or the walking embodiment of what a dominant woman can accomplish with a pliable male.

For the first time since he arrived, all eyes left Wendy to gawk at another patient as a woman in furs strode confidently from Dr. Long’s office leading an adult baby by the hand. By her walk, it was clear the AB’s diaper was sodden.

“The doctor and I will hear no more excuses, Penny,” the woman said harshly. “It’s going to be diapers and rubber panties for you day and night until you learn to control yourself, if you can!”

“Yes Miss Cat,” Penny sniffled, giving a little curtsey as she was lead out the door.

The show over, waiting patient’s turned their yes to Wendy once more. The sissy squirmed in his seat, the furtive motions only bringing more attention.

“Dr. Long will see you now,” the receptionist trilled.

Wendy rose from his seat and approached the office door giving the room ample time to judge his effeminate walk.

[Note: I hope you are enjoying my story. Please let me know what you think in the comments. If you would rather keep your comments private you can message me here on SissyKiss or send and e-mail to sissywendywantsome@gmail.com. I love sharing my words with you, and I hope you love reading them!]

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sissy servant 737-829-633

Posted February 4th, 2021 ~ 12:21 am

@ Widdle Wendy

OH MY GODDESS! It's me,, my training led me to Dr. Long's Behavioral Accompaniment! Yes Miss Cat (honor curtsy) overseeing my training..
Wendy would have been someone I wished to be like.. but I know diapers will always be a need in my life now.

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Widdle Wendy

Posted February 4th, 2021 ~ 4:05 pm

@ sissy servant 737-829-633

I'm so glad you appreciate your little cameo. I just love slipping sissies I know into my stories. You never know who you might encounter at Dr. Long's office!

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Widdle Wendy

Posted February 5th, 2021 ~ 5:12 pm

Chapter 11

Once again, Wendy lay back, embraced by the thick cushions of the chair Dr. Long reserved for select patients. In the dim lighting Wendy resembled Alice, quietly dozing under the shade of one of Wonderland’s enchanted mushrooms. A drained teacup lay where it fell at Wendy’s feet. Deeply hypnotized, the sissy breathed heavily, drawing the Dr.’s special medicine into his lungs.

Dr. Long’s black bikini briefs covered Wendy’s face like a mask, the roomy support pouch covering the sissy’s nose and mouth. The good doctor had been wearing this particular pair of briefs for a week and a half in preparation for today’s treatment, only removing them when he showered. Whether Dr. Long was at his office or the gym, at work or at play, waking or sleeping, the briefs clung to his skin, their cotton panels absorbing the masculine essence of his toned body.

Even when Dr. Long made love to his wife, his receptionist, or one of his appreciative former patients, the briefs remained on. True, he might pull them down to his knees or tuck the support pouch to the side, freeing his roused length, but his briefs never lost contact with his skin. They absorbed the liquid arousal of his precome, the heavy sweat of his forceful lovemaking, and the residue of his orgasm as it slowly leaked from his spent organ.

Bearing every masculine stain, these briefs were now Wendy’s whole world. The sissy gasped with each drawn breath, moaned with each exhalation, writhed in the folds of the chair as his simple mind drowned in the overpowering scent.

Dr. Long regarded Wendy, enjoying the fetishistic scene and taking pride in his mesmeric skills. With every session his sissy subject fell faster and further into trance, absorbing suggestions that were more complex and harder to disobey.

The good doctor turned back to his desk. There on its polished hardwood surface lay Wendy’s handbag and smartphone. Dr. Long bent over the phone, scrolling from one app to another, jumping into and out of settings and preferences, making a dozen little changes his patent would be conditioned not to notice until it was too late. The doctor smirked as he downloaded new ringtones and prompts and made a few careful edits to Wendy’s contacts and permissions.

Dr. Long finished his modifications to Wendy’s phone, and not a moment too soon. The sissy was on the verge of hyperventilating, so lost was he in the heavy odor of Dr. Long’s briefs. The doctor turned his chair to Wendy and leaned forward, drawing his subject’s attention with the familiar words, “follow and focus, focus and follow.”

Wendy immediately relaxed, his breathing once again deep and even. Dr. Long continued, “you have done so well and had so much special medicine, Wendy. It is time to put the medicine away so we can begin a new treatment. I promise you this new treatment is safe and soft, soft and safe, and you will love it just as much as you love your special medicine. Are you ready for a new treatment, Wendy?”

“Yes doctor,” Wendy sighed.

“Very good, Wendy.” Dr. Long stood and approached Wendy, reaching forward and slowly peeling his briefs off Wendy’s head. The doctor bent down to slip his underwear back on, but was struck by a devilish idea. Instead, he wiped his drooling cockhead on the black bikini briefs, enjoying the lingering warmth of Wendy’s breath on his skin, then folded the garment into a small little packet and slipped it into Wendy’s handbag. His wicked smile shining in the dark, Dr. Long slipped on his pants and fastened his belt. After taking a moment to compose himself, he placing his hands on the armrests of Wendy’s chair and leaned forward, his weight bearing down and eliciting a creak from the furniture.

“Follow and focus, Wendy. Focus and follow. Sink into your innermost mind, that special place where it is safe and soft, where you are soft and safe.”

Wendy practically cooed as Dr. Long’s words enveloped his mind.

“Think back, Wendy. Focus and follow, follow and focus. Focus on your memory. Follow your memory back to our very first session. Can you remember that day, Wendy?”

Some of Wendy’s earlier apprehension returned. The sissy’s gloved hands fidgeted and voice trembled as he whispered, “yes doctor.”

“Your memory is safe and soft, soft and safe, Wendy. No memory can hurt you in this place. Not so long as you follow and focus, focus and follow.” Dr. Long repeated these words until Wendy was suitably lulled. “Do you remember a mirror, Wendy?”

“Yes, doctor,” Wendy murmured.

“Very good. Do you remember what you saw in the mirror, Wendy?” Dr. Long bent closer to his patient, breathing his words over Wendy’s prone body.

“Y-yes, d-doctor,” Wendy stuttered, a swirl of conflicting emotions troubling his thoughts.

“This memory is safe and soft, Wendy,” Dr. Long purred encouragement, “soft and safe. Remember your special medicine. Remember how the medicine carried away your anger, your guilt, your jealousy, leaving only you, soft and safe, safe and soft in your innermost mind.”

“Yes, doctor,” a pacified Wendy replied.

“Tell me, Wendy, what did you see in the mirror that day?”

Wendy’s face screwed up in thought, trying to parse the complex emotions tied to the memory. “I saw,” Wendy stammered. “I saw, I saw, I saw…”

“You saw two things, Wendy. You saw two things in the mirror. Focus and follow, follow and focus on those two things.” Dr. Long leaned as close as he dared and whispered into his patient’s ear, “Now tell me, what did you see?”

“I saw my reflection, doctor,” the sissy whispered. “And…”

“Go on, Wendy. Focus and follow, follow and focus on the memory and tell me,” Dr. Long shifted his weight and breathed into Wendy’s other ear, “what did you see?”

“A pretty little girl,” Wendy squeaked.

“Correct, Wendy,” Dr. Long smirked with quiet satisfaction. “You did so well focussing and following, following and focussing on that memory. Now, follow and focus, focus and follow my voice as it guides to to the present so you may focus and follow, follow and focus on your next treatment.”

As Dr. Long spoke he slid his foot under the chair, disengaging a latch hidden just under the frame. Still leaning over his patient, Dr. Long gave the chair a little push, setting it spinning on its now unrestrained swivel. The sissy turned and turned and Dr. Long spoke and repeated the hypnotic mantra, the soothing woods seemingly coming from everywhere at once.

“Wendy, for your next treatment I will ask you to look into another mirror, a special mirror, a magic mirror. As you focus and follow, follow and focus upon this mirror you will discover something wonderful. This unique mirror only reflects the truth. What you see in this magic mirror may seem difficult to believe, but your innermost mind will accept it as absolute truth, because what the magic mirror reflects is absolute truth, and as you focus and follow this truth to wear it leads, as you follow and focus on everything this truth teaches you, you will find it so easy to accept. Do you understand, Wendy?”

The sissy was slow to respond, his mind and body seemingly turning and twisting in opposite directions, head lolling back and forth, side to side. At last Wendy slurred a thin, “Yeesss dooctoor.”

“Very good, Wendy,” Dr. Long spoke as he slowed the chair’s rotation. “I am bringing you to this magic mirror now. You are so ready to focus and follow, follow and focus on this mirror and its truthful reflection. Your innermost mind is soft and safe, safe and soft, so soft, so soft the mirror’s truth will easily reshape it. Do you understand, Wendy?”

“Yes, doctor,” Wendy sighed.

“You are doing beautifully, Wendy.” Dr. Long slowly brought the chair’s rotation to a halt. The chair and its entranced occupant now faced the tall mirror hanging from the back of the office door, the same mirror Dr. Long had once used to bring his sissy charge to tears. “I have brought you to the mirror, Wendy. Soon I will ask you to open your eyes and look into the magic mirror, to reflect upon your reflection, to focus and follow on the truth you will see reflected. Tell me, Wendy, what this mirror reflects.”

“The truth, doctor,” the sissy whispered.

Dr. Long took his place behind Wendy’s chair, his arms bracing it against any sudden movements, looming over his patient like a gargoyle. “Tell me, Wendy, what will you see in this mirror?”

“The truth, doctor,” Wendy said with a slight tremor.

The doctor reached over and adjusted the position of a gooseneck lamp, then adjusted its dimmer switch. Wendy now lay bathed in a gentle light that perfectly illuminated the sissy’s prone form but left the rest of the office in darkness. “Tell me, Wendy, what is your innermost mind ready to accept?” Dr. Long asked.

“The truth, doctor.” Despite the depth of the sissy’s trance, the curiosity in Wendy’s voice was unmistakable.

“Very good,” Dr. Long continued. “Sit up for me, Wendy. Sit up so you can see everything the magic mirror has to show you.”

“Yes, doctor. I want to see,” Wendy signed as he rose to a comfortable sitting position.

“You are doing so well, Wendy. Soon I will ask you to open your eyes. Your eyes will open and they will look deeply into the magic mirror. Your eyes will stare deeply into your reflection so you can reflect upon what is reflected. Are you ready to open your eyes, Wendy? Are you ready to open your eyes and see the truth reflected in the magic mirror?”

“Yes, doctor. I’m ready.” Was that a not of pleading in Wendy’s voice?

“Yes, you are ready. Ready to see, ready to know, ready to accept the truth. You are ready to follow and focus, focus and follow my command. Open. Your. Eyes!”

Wendy’s eyes snapped open like a doll’s, staring directly into the wide, blue eyes of his reflection.

“Very good, Wendy,” Dr. Long continued as he gently placed his thick fingertips against the sissy’s temples, cheeks, and jawline. “So ready to reflect, so ready to reconcile, so ready to receive the truth. Look deep, Wendy. Look deep at all the magic mirror has to show you.”

With the slightest of pressure from his fingertips, Dr. Long tilted Wendy’s hear up and down, guiding the sissy’s eyes. Under the doctor’s careful direction Wendy silently absorbed every detail of his own eyes, face, body, and dress. Most especially the dress, and all its hyper-feminine accents and accessories. From bow to shoes, from shoes to bow, Wendy passively absorbed his reflection. At last the sissy’s gaze was directed back to the reflection of his own eyes. Dr. Long released Wendy’s head from his grip and returned his hands to the seatback.

“What do you see, Wendy?”

It all came flowing out of Wendy in gentle, lilting coos. “A pretty little girl!”

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Widdle Wendy

Posted February 9th, 2021 ~ 5:40 am

Chapter 12

Dr. Long relished the sight of his hypnotized patient sitting at full attention, inescapably captivated by the feminine image reflected in the mirror. He leaned in and whispered into the sissy’s ear, “Point to the reflection.”

Wendy raised his left hand hand and pointed a delicate lace-clad finger at the female vision reflected in the mirror.

“Tell me, Wendy, what do you see?” Dr. Long coaxed.

“A pretty little girl,” Wendy said.

“Very good. Now, point to yourself,” the doctor commanded.

Wendy brought her outstretched hand close to his chest, bending his wrist upward, his pointing finger just barely touching the tip of his pointed chin.

“Tell me, what do you see?”

“A pretty little girl,” the sissy cooed.

“Excellent,” said Dr. Long. “Now, point to yourself and your reflection.”

Wendy obeyed, raising his left arm, his pointing finger almost touching the surface of the mirror.

“Listen carefully, Wendy,” Dr. Long whispered softly, brushing his lips against one ear, then the other as he spoke. “Soft and safe. Focus and follow. Reflect upon your reflection. Tell me what you see.”

A little tremble passed through Wendy as the last of his resistance was swept away. “A pretty little girl,” the sissy gasped as if recognizing herself - yes, herself - in the mirror for the first time.

“You see the truth in the magic mirror, don’t you Wendy? You see and you believe. From the tips of your fingers to the center of your innermost mind. Tell me what you are,” Dr. Long growled.

“A pretty little girl.”

“Tell me again.”

“A pretty little girl.”

“Once more.”

“A pretty little girl!” Wendy squealed.

“Very good, Wendy. You are doing so well. I would like to reward you. Would you that?” Dr. Long asked with a sly grin.

“Yes, doctor,” Wendy replied in a light, smooth voice.

“You have done so well I am going to reward you with a secret. The magic mirror can do more than reflect the truth. It is the doorway to another world, a world that is soft and safe, safe and soft like your innermost mind. A world of happiness and friendship, of magic and wonder. Would you like to visit this world, Wendy?”

“Oh yes, doctor.” Wendy’s hands groped for the mirror as if she could pull herself through to the promised wonderland.

“Patience, my dear,” Dr. Long soothed, resting his hands lightly on Wendy’s shoulders. “First you must prepare for your journey. You must prepare to follow and focus, focus and follow.”

Wendy fell perfectly still, perfectly calm under her therapist’s direction.

“Stand, Wendy,” Dr. Long commanded. “Stand straight and tall in your little doll shoes. Let me help you to your feet.” The doctor tightened his grip on Wendy’s shoulders and guided the sissy to her feet. “You are going to meet so many people when you enter the mirror, Wendy. So many wonderful people. You want to make a good impression, don’t you Wendy?”

“Yes, doctor,” Wendy replied, swaying gently before her reflection.

“To make a good impression you must have correct posture, Wendy. Would you like me to correct your posture?”

“Yes, doctor,” Wendy sighed. “Correct me.”

“I will correct you, Wendy,” Dr. Long growled. “I will correct everything about you, in time. For now, you will let me correct your posture. You will follow and focus, focus and follow my instructions. You will be safe and soft, soft and safe in my hands.”

Dr. Long stepped around from behind the chair and ran his hands over Wendy’s pliant body, applying gentle pressure to the sissy’s limbs and joins until she was poised like a noblewoman at court. Feet together, knees straight, back straight, shoulders back, neck high, chin raised ever so slightly. Dr. Long ran his hands down Wendy’s arms until they hung down loosely, elbows in. The doctor took a step back to admire his handiwork. Wendy looked ready to glide across a ballroom floor and address the queen.

“Your posture is flawless, Wendy,” Dr. Long complimented his subject.

“Thank you, doctor,” Wendy said.

“There remains one final thing you must do to make a good first impression. Once you have mastered it I will give you your reward,” Dr. Long continued. “Are you ready, Wendy?”

“Yes, doctor,” Wendy whispered.

“Very good, Wendy,” Dr. Long spoke as he stepped forward and stood behind Wendy. “To make a good impression you must introduce yourself. To introduce yourself you must say “hello,” state your name and what you are, and curtsey. Do you know how to curtsey, Wendy?”

The sissy’s eyebrows came together, her mind torn between being truthful to her doctor yet wanting to please him. “I . . . I . . .,” Wendy stammered.

“Calm yourself, Wendy,” Dr. Long soothed. “You are safe and soft, soft and safe with me. I will show you how a proper little girl curtseys. Focus and follow, follow and focus upon your reflection as you follow and focus, focus and follow these movements.”

Dr. Long reached around, entwining his hands with Wendy’s. Manipulating his subject like a puppet, the hypnotist raised Wendy’s skirts with her own hands, nudged one of her feet in front of the other, and bent her knees. The doctor puppeted Wendy through the motions of a curtsey again and again whispering soothing encouragement and guidance into her ears. Dr. Long’s body pressed rubbed against Wendy’s, his growing manhood feeling the texture of the sissy’s rhumba panties through the thin fabric of his trousers. At last, the doctor released Wendy from his grasp and took a step back. Though freed from her doctor’s touch, Wendy continued to execute an exaggerated curtsey over and over.

“Excellent, Wendy. You’re doing so very well,” Dr. Long spoke, fighting to keep a predatory growl from his voice. “You’ve made quite an impression upon me, and I’m sure all your new friends on the other side of the mirror will be thrilled to meet you. Are you ready to receive your reward? Are you ready to walk through the mirror?”

Wendy stopped curtseying and resumed her perfect feminine stance. “Oh yes doctor,” Wendy sighed. “I’m ready.”

“Yes, you are ready.” Dr. Long took a step forward and rested his right hand gently on Wendy’s backside. “Soon I will send you through the mirror into a world that is soft and safe, safe a soft. A world full of new friends just waiting to meet you. When I send you through you will introduce yourself to each and every one of them. You will introduce yourself l just as I showed you, and they will love you. Wendy, are you ready to step through the magic mirror?” Dr. Long asked as he reached past Wendy with his left hand and gripped the doorknob.

“Yes doctor. Please send me through your magic mirror,” Wendy practically trilled in her excitement.

“Step forward, Wendy,” Dr. Long instructed. “Step forward and step through the mirror. See your reflection. Let it guide you through the glass. Step forward and do not stop until you are in another world!” With that, the doctor gave Wendy a firm push on her behind, sending her gliding forward with little mincing steps. Just as Wendy was about to touch glass of the mirror hanging from the office door Dr. Long swung the door wide, sending Wendy out into the packed waiting room.

Seven pairs of eyes turned to stare at Wendy. The sissy’s face broke into a bright smile, her unfocused eyes grew wider, and she gave a deep curtsey.

“Hello, new friends. My name is Wendy, and I’m a pretty little girl.”

[Note: Thank you all for reading this far. I hope your still enjoying my little adventure. There are still a few more big changes in store for Wendy, and that means Wendy's New Taste will soon come to and end. However, there will be a new story after that. What will it be? That's my little secret. Your comments mean a lot to me. Please post a reply to let me know what you think of this story. If you prefer to contact me directly please e-mail sissywendywantsome@gmail.com]

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sissy servant 737-829-633

Posted February 9th, 2021 ~ 11:36 pm

@ Widdle Wendy

I to am hypnotized into a soft and safe space.. However no one knows I am there..

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Widdle Wendy

Posted February 12th, 2021 ~ 4:51 am

Chapter 13

Wendy twirled around the waiting room, her mind trapped in a potent hypnotic fantasy. Surrounded by sneering, gawping, and leering faces, the sissy only saw a candy colored gathering of welcoming new friends. Wendy pranced up to each, curtseyed, and repeated the introduction that became easier and truer with every recitation.

“My name is Wendy, and I’m a pretty little girl.”

With each curtsey Wendy lifted her skirts and petticoats just a bit higher, giving everyone she addressed a good look at the meager bulge in her rhumba panties. Deeply entranced as she was, the sissy’s wide eyes saw only smiling approval regardless of the onlooker’s response to her shameful display.

The icy domme who glared and shooed Wendy away with a dismissive flick of her hand the sissy perceived as a snow queen sprinkling a glittering handful of magical snowflakes at her feet. The woman’s husband, a nervous round waste of a man wearing a chastity cage that clacked loudly against its heavy lock every time he squirmed, Wendy saw as a smiling pug with little faerie wings.

The governess sitting next to her diapered adult baby acknowledged Wendy with a curt nod, then prompted her charge with a gentle, “Remember your manners. Say hello, Peaches.”

Peaches, her vocabulary slowly erased by weeks of sessions with Dr. Long, could only manage a “Hewow” as she flopped her right hand in a clumsy imitation of a wave.

To Wendy’s hypnotized senses the pair were an angelic mother and daughter, all smiles and warmth, their ivory wings spread proudly.

The mother in a periwinkle housedress pointed and laughed, nearly falling out of her chair. At last she composed herself, then grabbed her son by the jaw and forced him to look Wendy up and down. “Take a good long look, Molly,” the boy’s mother teased. “A few more sessions with Dr. Long and it’ll be you prancing around in panties and petticoats.”

The son, dressed in a matching housedress, whimpered as he considded his future. Had Wendy been in her right mind she might have recognized the young man as Martin Hightower from her own high school graduating class. “Please, mom,” the boy whimpered. “We don’t have to do this. I’ll be good! I didn’t mean to-“

The young man was silenced by a slap across the face. “I’ve had enough of your excuses, Molly. It’s clear to me the only way you’re going to learn to respect women is if you learn to be one. Now, no more backtalk! Or do you want me to take you over my knee right in front of everyone?”

Wendy smiled sweetly throughout the entire exchange between mother and sissy son. In Wendy’s mind the two were a regal fairy queen and enchanting princess, their argument a beguiling exchange of flattery.

At last Wendy stood before the receptionist, who took the sissy’s hands and gave them an encouraging little squeeze.

“You certainly are a pretty little thing,” the receptionist trilled. “It is a delight to meet you, Wendy.”

Through the lens of her trance Wendy saw the receptionist as a mermaid reclining of a seashell, nude but for endless strings of pearls that complimented the emerald scales of her tail. “Do you hear that?” the mermaid sang? “Dr. Long is calling, Wendy. It’s time to walk back through the mirror and return to his care.”

A look of disappointment passed over Wendy’s face.

“Don’t fret, dear,” the mermaid receptionist said in her strange harmony. “Your new friends will always be with you in here.” The mermaid laid the tip of her index finger directly over Wendy’s heart, her mother of pearl colored nails catching the light.

The sissy relaxed visibly. The mermaid wrapped and arm around Wendy’s waist and sang, “Come dear. I’ll swim you back to the good doctor.”

The receptionist led Wendy back through the open door to Dr. Long’s office and sat her down in the large padded chair. When the receptionist departed, closing the door behind her, Dr. Long resumed his treatment.

“You’ve done so well, Wendy,” Dr. Long said in his commanding monotone. “So good, so feminine. You are so tired from your long journey through the mirror and back, so exhausted from meeting so man new friends. But you are back in my office where it is soft and safe, safe and soft. So soft. You want to sleep, Wendy. You want to sleep and dream. You want to dream a most pleasant dream. You want to dream a dream so wonderfully real it will change you even after you are awake. Though you will not remember this dream upon waking, all that you dreamed will remain in your innermost mind.”

As Wendy’s eyes drooped, Dr. Long reached towards her and brushed his fingertips gently against the sissy’s cheek.

“Sleep!” the doctor commanded.

Wendy’s eyes snapped shut and she fell back into the chair, her mouth agape, her breathing slow and even.

Dr. Long reached over and plucked Wendy’s smartphone from his desk. With a quick tap he brought up a menu of alert chimes and ringtones prepared for this moment.

Now, Dr. Long thought, the real conditioning can begin.

+++

Wendy stood on the sidewalk in front of Long Behavioral Associates still deeply in trance just as Dr. Long had left her. Her handbag, now packed with a few surprises provided by the good doctor, swung from the crook of her left arm. Wendy’s right arm supported an unmarked plastic bag full of four more tubs of the sissy’s special liquid diet, each one fortified by Dr. Long or one of his office’s behavioral associates, who were each more than happy to contribute supplemental nourishment.

The sissy continued to draw looks and comments from passers by, a battery of post hypnotic suggestions turning disgusted looks and abusive comments into flattering praise and turning Wendy’s shame into delight. Every pedestrian who dared move in for a closer look Wendy greeted with a broad smile, a curtsey, and a declaration of what was now an unassailable truth in her mind. She was a pretty little girl.

At last Wendy’s stepmother Elizabeth pulled up to the curb in a cherry red sports car. Elizabeth rolled down the passenger window while her freshly manicured nails, lacquered cherry red to match her car, drummed on the padded steering wheel. “Well, don’t just stand on the corner like a common whore,” Elizabeth sneered. “Get in!”

Wendy bent over and opened the passenger door with a delicate turn of her hand. She hopped into the car and settled her ruffled behind on the headed seat, closing the door behind her. After placing her shopping bag by her feet, Wendy buckled herself in and settled into the seat. As the car pulled away from the curb and sped into traffic Wendy looked at the passing world with a smile of mindless joy.

In the absence of Wendy’s usual grousing and pouting, and the stinging rebukes Elizabeth was wont to direct at her stepsissy for such behavior, an unusual silence filled the car. As Elizabeth pulled the car onto the highway she could take the silence no longer.

“Well, what are you smiling about?” Elizabeth snapped.

Wendy turned to her stepmother, her smile beaming, and spoke what had been echoing around in her head for the past half hour. “I’m a pretty little girl!”

“Well,” Elizabeth smirked, “that certainly is a marked improvement.” Elizabeth let a mile roll by before the silence got to her again. “I won’t say that I’m proud of you, my dear, but seeing you so happy in your femininity I certainly look upon you with less shame.”

“My name is Wendy,” was the sissy’s addled response. Wendy’s eyes drifted to the horizon, following and focused on that distant place where the road met the sky.

For the first time Elizabeth felt a slight flicker of sympathy for her charge. Had Dr. Long gone too far? Another emotion boiled up within her. The same jealousy and anger a girl might feel upon finding another child has broken her toy. Elizabeth tightened her grip on the steering wheel and muttered to herself, “If that doctor has left you so broken down you can’t perform for me I’ll-“

Elizabeth’s phone chimed, the number for Long Behavioral Associates flashing on the screen. Elizabeth snatched the phone from its charging cradle on the dashboard and answered.

“Russ!” Elizabeth composed herself. “I mean, Dr. Long. What an unexpected surprise.”

Just hearing the doctor’s rich tones over the phone set Elizabeth’s mind to other, more pleasant things.

“Why, yes I can see you did quite a number on her,” Elizabeth chattered. “No, she’s just been staring off into space with a vapid little grin on her face. I see. Well of course I am impressed. Yes, but I have quite an evening planned and you can’t expect me to prepare without Wendy’s help, as meager as it is.”

Elizabeth paused as Dr. Long began a lengthy explanation.

“Your hypnotic technique is fascinating,” Elizzabeth broke in when the doctor paused to inhale. “And complex. Perhaps you could give me a more thorough explanation. Over dinks, perhaps. I know a marvelous little night spot-“

Throughout the call Wendy remained fixated on a distant point that only existed in her mind, Dr. Long’s instructions echoing over and over again, reinforcing themselves with every passing mile marker.

“Oh pooh,” Elizabeth huffed as Dr. Long politely declined her offer with another small lecture about his ethics.

“What am I do do with Wendy,” Elizabeth went on, her icy facade taking on a new layer of frost. “The little pansy is absolutely useless to me in this state. Yes. Of course. Why would I say such a thing? It’s absolute gibberish. Ah, of course. Thank you Ru-, i mean Dr. Long. We’ll see you next week.”

Elizabeth broke the connection and replaced the phone in its charging cradle. After a few deep breaths she spoke clearly, with authority, “Wendy, listen to me.”

Wendy turned to face her stepmother, her eyes wide, her ears alert. “Yes, mother?” Wendy sighed.

Mother? In all the years Elizabeth had been saddled with he stepsissy she had never once called her mother. Will this persist when she awakens?, Elizabeth wondered.

Elizabeth recited the words Dr. Long give her. “A bear rides a butterfly upstream.”

Wendy blinked, her eyes rapidly bringing the world into focus as she awakened from her hypnotic state. “What did you say, mother,” Wendy asked as if trying out the word mother for the first time.

Elizabeth smirked. “How was your appointment, dead?”

A strange calm passed through Wendy as memories, several of them falsehoods programmed into the sissy’s mind by Dr. Long’s suggestions, bubbled up into her consciousness.

“I had a wonderful appointment, mother. Dr. Long is an excellent therapist. I’m so lucky you sent me to him. I do so look forward to my next dose of his special medicine.”

“Do go on,” Elizabeth asked, intrigued.

Wendy prattled on for the remainder of the ride home, her recounting of the day’s events a mix of the truth and expertly constructed false memories.

So it went until Elizabeth pulled her car up the drive to her home.

“Come, dear,” Elizabeth said as she cut the engine. “Philip is coming over tonight and I must have your help to get read.”

“Yes, mother,” Wendy replied.

[Note: Thank you for reading the latest installment of my story. You can now follow me on twitter @SissyWrites if you are so inclined. I can't wait to share Chapter 14 with you!]

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babygirlpansy

Posted February 13th, 2021 ~ 2:40 pm

Nicely Done, dear....hopefully you'll be posting more pages !!

permanently a sissybaby

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sissy servant 737-829-633

Posted February 13th, 2021 ~ 5:50 pm

@ babygirlpansy

HI Pansy! So glad others are also enjoying the story.. I too am enthralled in the "goings on" in Long Behavior Institute. Soft & Safe is a wonderful place to be. Sweet wendy's mind must be on overload with prissiness.. Hope my Mistress, Miss Cat (honor curtsy) sends me to such a fabulous place.. So nice to see You are alive and still in sissy heaven.

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Widdle Wendy

Posted February 17th, 2021 ~ 12:56 pm

@ babygirlpansy

Thank you for the kind words! I'm working on the next chapter now and I hope to have it posted by the end of the week. I can't wait to share it with you!

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sissy servant 737-829-633

Posted February 17th, 2021 ~ 10:50 pm

@ Widdle Wendy

anticipation is making me wait..
I WANT AN OOMPA LOOMPA NOW! Guess the next chapter has me a thither and I have to wait.

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Widdle Wendy

Posted May 19th, 2021 ~ 2:18 am

Wendy, once more in full french maid uniform, knelt before her stepmother Elizabeth, who sat with regal poise upon a divan touching up her makeup with the aid of a silver hand mirror. With tender care Wendy unrolled a silk stocking up her stepmother’s sculpted leg, taking pains to ensure straitness of seam. Though she gave no outward sign, Elizabeth took great pleasure in the caressing motions of her stepsissy’s hands as they performed their appointed task.

Wendy gingerly adjusted the stocking’s lace band and clipped Elizabeth’s garter belt suspenders in place. Hearing the gentle click of the suspenders fastening tight Elizabeth shifted position, withdrawing her stockinged leg and proffering the other for the same treatment. As Wendy placed the other stocking on her stepmother’s painted toes and began the sensuous task of unrolling it over her dainty foot, smooth heal, delicate ankle, and athletic leg, Elizabeth adjusted her sitting position ever so slightly, granting the sissy maid a peek up her skirt.

From her vantage point on her knees Wendy caught a glimpse of her stepmother’s exposed pussy carefully framed by lacy black open crotch panties. Despite herself, Wendy’s eyes gazed longingly at the well-groomed slit she used to so dutifully worship. The sissy’s mouth watered at the memory of the taste of her stepmother’s nectar. Then the flavor of the thick masculine gunk Wendy had unknowingly lapped from Elizabeth’s well-fucked pussy bubbled up in her mind. The sissy shuddered in disgust, inadvertently putting an unsightly curve into the otherwise perfectly straight seam of her stepmother’s stocking.

Freshly shaved and lotioned as her legs were, Elizabeth felt the kink in her stocking against the sensitive skin of her calf. Elizabeth turned from her hand mirror and gave her stepsissy an icy glare. “Do I have to do everything myself?” she barked as she pressed her foot firmly against Wendy’s face. “Useless,” she huffed as she pushed Wendy away with her foot, the force so great it left the sissy sprawling on the floor.

Disoriented, reeling from the scent of her stepmother’s perfumed toes and fearing punishment, Wendy curled up where she lay and closed her eyes.

Elizabeth gave her sissy a look of pure disgust, then straightened her stocked and clipped the suspenders in place. She ran her fingernails, painted red to match her toes, over her legs, relishing the teasing caress through the nylon. Elizabeth would have caressed herself further, but her mood was spoiled by a soft whimper that escaped her stepsissy’s lips.

Elizabeth rose to her feet and took a step toward where Wendy lay. The sissy was little more than a quivering pile of black satin, white lace, and feminized weakness. Elizabeth slid the toe of her right foot under Wendy’s cheek and nudged, turning the sissy’s face upward.

“Look at me, dear,” Elizabeth cooed.

Wendy’s eyes fluttered open at her stepmother’s command. In one artful move Elizabeth raised her right foot ever so slightly and pinched the sissy’s nose between her big and second toes. Her nose held in an iron grip, Wendy could do nothing but stare up at her stepmother in awe and terror.

“You’ve wasted so much of my time,” Elizabeth hissed, “that I can’t even spare a moment to administer the punishment you so richly deserve.” Elizabeth tweaked Wendy’s nose with her foot, eliciting a whimper from the prone sissy. “Now stop waisting any more of my time,” Elizabeth continued, “and go downstairs and wait in your corner until called.” With that, Elizabeth released Wendy’s nose.

“Yes, mother,” Wendy replied meekly. The sissy got up on her knees and made to stand, but sent tumbling back down to the floor by another vigorous nudge from Elizabeth’s foot.

“I said go, not stand,” Elizabeth said. “Now crawl. Crawl!” Wendy’s stepmother drove her command home with a goading kick.

Wendy scrambled out the door on all fours, her all-too-short skirts and petticoats rustling around the rhumba panties covering her plump rear. As the sissy maid scuttled down the hall and to the stairs the swish of her skirts, a sound her conditioned mind had grown to love, was drowned out by her stepmother’s repeated shouts of, “Crawl, you useless thing! Crawl!”

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Widdle Wendy

Posted September 2nd, 2021 ~ 5:42 pm

@ Widdle Wendy

In the dining room some minutes later Wendy put the finishing touches on a pair of elegant place settings. Gleaming plates, sparkling wine glasses, and polished cutlery adorned the table on either side of an antique silver candelabra. When it was new the candelabra had been presented to the sissy’s great-grandparents at their wedding. Now it was one of the many trophies Elizabeth had claimed in the divorce.

As Wendy moved to put the last soup spoon in its place she caught sight of herself reflected in its mirror finish. Echoes of Dr. Long’s suggestions tugged at the sissy’s mind as she found herself slowly turning the spoon around and around with her delicate fingers. The sissy’s face, lightly made up to compliment rather than compete with her stepmother’s glamorous features, stared back from the spoon. Wendy’s eyes were drawn into the eyes of her reflection. As the concave side of the spoon head turned to face the sissy her reflection flipped upside down only to flip right-side up again as the spoon continued its rotation. Upside down, right-side up, flipping, flashing, Wendy’s eyes remained locked on her reflection's deepening gaze as the spoon turned around and around.

With her attention so wonderfully captivated by the image of the pretty little maid she had become, Wendy forgot the world around her. She was ignorant of the passing of time, the aroma of food warming in the oven, and the sound of Philip’s car coming up the drive. There was only the sissy’s enforced femininity feeding back upon itself, becoming more complete and less unwilling with every passing moment.

Philip's authoritative knock at the front door jolted Wendy out of her spontaneous trance, causing her fingers to slip and the soup spoon to drop to the hardwood floor with a clatter. Wendy moved to pick up and spoon and hastily gave it a quick polish with the hem of her pinafore.

“Do get the door, Wendy dear,” Elizabeth called from upstairs. “Don’t you dare leave my man waiting!”

The sissy arranged the spoon in its proper spot in the place setting and scampered to the front door with light, mincing steps. Taking a moment to smooth her skirts, Wendy comported herself before reaching for the brass doorknob.

The door swung wide to reveal Philip, his sweat stained white polo shirt and well packed athletic shorts clinging to his muscular body. Fleshing his case-winning smile, Philip took Wendy’s hand in his own raised it to his lips. Wendy shivered as Philip’s hot breath played across her knuckles, and again when he planted a firm, lingering kiss on the back of her hand.

“Elizabeth, my darling, you have no idea how…” Philip, normally so quick with words, trailed off mid-sentence when his eyes adjusted to the light and he saw the feminine creature before him was not his lady love.

“W-welcome to our home, sir,” Wendy managed to squeak, her delicate hand now trembling in Philip’s tightening grip.

With the sharp clack-clack-clack of heels on hardwood Elizabeth sauntered into the doorway, easily brushing Wendy aside with a sweep of her hand.

“Dallying with the help, are we?” Elizabeth said with a wry smile.

Seeing the object of his affection, the smile that dazzled a thousand jurors lit up Philip’s handsome face. “And here I though you were at the door to surprise me with a little game of master and servant,” Philip chuckled.

Now there’s an idea, Elizabeth thought as her eyes drank in her lover’s athletic frame. “Never on an empty stomach, darling,” Elizabeth quipped. “Now, let me greet you properly.”

Elizabeth wrapped her arms around Philip’s broad shoulders and pulled him into a close embrace. Her lips pressed hard against Philip’s own as if to wash away the taste of Wendy’s skin with the force of the kiss. Philip wrapped his arm around Elizibeth’s waist and drew her in tightly. The two lingered in the doorway heedless of Wendy’s presence.

At last Elizabeth broke the kiss just long enough to say, “To the kitchen with you, Wendy. I expect everything ready to serve by the time I’m done welcoming our guest.”

“Yes, mother,” Wendy trilled, taking one step towards the kitchen only to realize Philip still held her hand firmly. The sissy glanced a Philip with pleading eyes, catching the lawyer’s sly wink.

Philip gave Wendy’s hand a firm, possessive squeeze, then loosened his grip. The sissy’s delicate fingers slid from Philip’s grasp as she made her her unsteady way to the kitchen, her feminized brain dizzy with strange thoughts that were not her own but would be soon enough.

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Baby Mac

Posted September 4th, 2021 ~ 5:05 am

@ Widdle Wendy

Oh my goddess i have just discovered this story it was so wonderful and humiliating great to see you are continuing. Please don't hate me but i would love to see more with the brainwashing can you have the stepmommy doing the hypnosis using hypnotic suggestions and triggers where Wendy's made to think he's in some Disney movie. And the stepmommys is a cruel witch and she's a kidnaped princess. Or even have the poor step son still has some free will left but its he's trapped inside his mind and can only look on not able to do anything and the stepmommy knows this and has to reinforce the conditioning. Thankyou so much for reading.

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Widdle Wendy

Posted September 4th, 2021 ~ 4:05 pm

@ Baby Mac

Hello Baby Mac! Thank you so much for the appreciative comments! The rest of this story is planned out, and while I can't promise Wendy will be hypnotized into thinking she's trapped in a Disney movie, I can promise wicked stepmother Elizabeth is going to start taking full advantage of all the little triggers Dr. Long is hiding in Wendy's silly little brain.

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sissy servant 737-829-633

Posted September 5th, 2021 ~ 6:00 pm

all the little triggers Dr. Long is hiding

There is no hiding from the words or things unknown , laying in wait to trigger,, BANG! shot like bullet bringing down it's defenseless victim.. again and again

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Widdle Wendy

Posted September 6th, 2021 ~ 3:56 am

@ sissy servant 737-829-633

I can't wait to introduce you to some of Wendy's secret post-hypnotic triggers in the next chapter.

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Baby Mac

Posted September 6th, 2021 ~ 4:29 am

@ Widdle Wendy

I hope you post it soon I'm in suspense.

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Baby Mac

Posted September 10th, 2021 ~ 12:24 am

@ Baby Mac

Do you know when you will post the next part?

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Widdle Wendy

Posted September 10th, 2021 ~ 4:21 am

@ Baby Mac

I don't have a set deadline, but If I can find the time to finish off the current chapter I hope to have it posted sometime next week. I love your enthusiasm!

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Baby Mac

Posted September 10th, 2021 ~ 6:32 am

@ Widdle Wendy

Well my avatar pic expresses it.

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sissy servant 737-829-633

Posted September 10th, 2021 ~ 6:47 am

@ Baby Mac

hunt and peck...

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Widdle Wendy

Posted August 18th, 2022 ~ 4:01 pm

The dinner conversation between Elizabeth and Philip was as light and sparkling as the rosé they sipped between courses. On any other evening Elizabeth would have banished Wendy to her room lest the sissy’s mere presence spoil the romantic atmosphere so precisely cultivated by the mistress of the house. Tonight, however, Wendy was bid to remain in the dining room and wait just beyond the candle light, standing alert and attentive to the two lovers’ every need.

For Elizabeth and Philip it was an evening of tastes and textures, sultry glances and honeyed words, appetites sated and glasses filled. For Wendy it was a whirlwind dance of clearing plates, fetching courses, topping off glasses, and quickly mincing betwixt dining room and kitchen. Elizabeth’s needs were many, but none so great as her desire to see her stepsissy perform as a proper domestic servant. Not a moment passed without Elizabeth calling for more of this, less of that, another chilled bottle you useless thing, much to Philip’s delight. With each course the guest grew more fascinated with the little sissy maid and more intrigued by the possibilities such a live-in servant presented.

“And you have him waiting on you hand and foot every day?” Philip asked with much admiration.

“Her, darling,” Elizabeth gently corrected her gentleman caller. “Wendy,” Elizabeth snapped, “tell our guest exactly what you are.”

Without thinking, for indeed the sissy had been thoroughly conditioned not to think in these moments, Wendy stepped into the candlelight at Philips side. With blank eyes and a gentle smile, the sissy maid’s lips parted as she trilled, “My name is Wendy, and I’m a pretty little girl.” With delicate motions Wendy executed an exaggerated curtsy, ending by lifting her petticoats to expose the thimble-sized bump in her satin panties.

Philip looked Wendy’s frail, feminized body up and down, taking in every soft curve accentuated by lace and satin. “You certainly are,” Philip said with an appreciative sigh.

Wendy’s awareness returned at Philip’s comment. Between Philip’s hungry eyes and Elizabeth’s hateful glare, Wendy was overtaken by embarrassment. Covering her blushing cheeks with one hand and adjusting her skirts and petticoats with the other, Wendy minced back beyond the reach of the candlelight with an abashed squeak.

Philip turned to face Elizabeth with a calculatedly charming smile. “That doctor has certainly done a number on her,” Philip said with a chuckle.

“Yes,” Elizabeth replied with a smirk. Her eyes lowered into a sultry gaze. “But I’d much rather talk about the number I’m going to do on you tonight.” Elizabeth ran her stockinged foot gently up Philip’s leg, along his inner thigh, at over the growing bulge between his leg. Without breaking eye contact with her lover, Elizabeth called out, “See to the desserts, Wendy. My man and I are ready for something sweet.”

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Baby Mac

Posted August 20th, 2022 ~ 11:19 pm

@ Widdle Wendy

It is fantastic to see you back i have been waiting a year to read what will happen. Poor sissy is so brainwashed i hope she tries to fight back and escape but stepmommy uses hypnosis to push him down his own sunken place.

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Widdle Wendy

Posted August 21st, 2022 ~ 12:51 am

@ Baby Mac

It's great to be back! There are still a few more surprises in store for sweet little Wendy, and we'll be seeing some of her new triggers soon!

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sissy servant 737-829-633

Posted August 21st, 2022 ~ 2:59 pm

@ Widdle Wendy

BRAVO! THANK YOU FOR CONTINUING THE SISSY SAGA. THOSE TRIGGERS WILL GET YOU ALL THE TIME UNTIL NO LONGER REQUIRED FOR TRAINING

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Widdle Wendy

Posted November 15th, 2022 ~ 1:54 pm

@ Widdle Wendy

Wendy’s stomach gurgled and churned. Several weeks ago it would have been readily apparent to Wendy that Elizabeth starved her deliberately. Thanks to Dr. Long’s precise conditioning the sissy was barely able to think a single uncharitable thought about her wicked stepmother. With each session more shameful thoughts and painful memories vanished behind a swirling pink fog along with the remains of the sissy’s underdeveloped masculinity. All that remained in the sissy’s mind was a desire to beg the mistress of the house for a break from her chores to enjoy a simple meal and to thank her for the strictly regimented diet that was proving so slimming.

Standing there in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by the lingering scent of the sumptuous meal so recently prepared for Elizabeth and Philip, Wendy’s hunger was unbearable. With the two lovers in the dining room awaiting their dessert, there was little time to indulge in a clandestine snack. As Wendy opened the refrigerator and beheld two parfaits, each topped with a tempting swirl of sweet cream, her hands trembled. At that moment she would have given anything, even risked Elizabeth’s ire, to scoop up a dollop of cream and lick it from her fingertip, savoring its taste and texture and at last feeling the morsel glide down her grateful throat.

Wendy’s lips parted as her fingers reached out to touch the cream, only to stop as a bit of sage advice offered up by Dr. Long echoed in her mind.

Wendy, you must control your urges for your sake, the sake of your treatment, and the sake of your relationship with your lovely stepmother. When your urges grow too great, when acting upon them would violate the trust we all place in you, find a substitute for what you desire. Like a reformed smoker who reaches for a stick of gum instead of a cigarette.

Of course! Gum was exactly what Wendy needed to occupy herself and get through the rest of the evening. Turning from the refrigerator, Wendy minced over to her handbag where it lay on the kitchen counter. The sissy rifled through her handbag, searching past her phone, her coin purse, a rainbow of lipsticks and eyeshadows, until she found a little tin of chewing gum she knew she wound find despite having no memory of putting it there.

Wendy snapped the tin open and looked down hungrily at its contents. In the tin where three tied off condoms, each packed with a heavy load provided by the virile Dr. Long. Wendy plucked one of the condoms out and held it before her eyes, letting all her senses tell her it was a sweet, fruity, refreshing stick of gum. The sissy popped the treat into her mouth and began to chew, letting its flavor and texture play over her tongue. Her mouth watered as her senses came alive, her hunger forgotten.

The unladylike grumble in her stomach silenced, Wendy stepped back to the refrigerator and produced the two parfaits. Each she placed side by side on a delicate silver tray along with a pair of sterling dessert spoons. The sissy continued to chew her “gum” as she fussed over the presentation of the desserts until the sound of Elizabeth’s laughter from the dining room reminded her of her stepmother’s finite patience.

Wendy picked up the tray and made her way to the door with precise little steps, still chewing happily on her special treat.

“Oh!” Wendy cooed in surprise as a new burst of flavor spread across her tongue. The sissy maidservant swayed where she stood before the kitchen door as the unexpected taste leaking from the condom did its work on her body and mind. Her mouth watered and her chewing grew frantic as she worked to extract every ounce of his new flavor.

It was exciting and comforting, familiar and exotic all at once. As the sensation played over her tongue Wendy felt a pulsing warmth deep within herself. It began in her tongue, trickled down her throat and over her heart, and lingered in her belly before spreading to the neglected organ between her legs.

This was not arousal as Wendy had ever known it before. There was no unsightly erection, no base desire to clumsily thrust and pump. There was only a full-body tingle and a spreading wetness as the sissy’s flaccid nub stained the front of her panties with a dribble of precum.

Wendy would have gladly lost herself in the soft, warm arousal that that played through her body, but Elizabeth’s unexpected whoop of pleasant surprise reminded the sissy of her duties. Wendy proceeded into the dining room, hoping with each delicate step that her trembling didn’t cause the silverware on the tray to rattle.

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Baby Mac

Posted November 16th, 2022 ~ 2:30 am

@ Widdle Wendy

Making her chew condoms as gun, Wendy's mind has been truly warped and i am so excited to read more about it.

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Widdle Wendy

Posted November 16th, 2022 ~ 1:35 pm

@ Baby Mac

Dr. Long has hidden so many devious suggestions and triggers deep in this poor little sissy's tiny mind. Another one is coming up in the next installment!

Thank you so much for continuing to read and comment. It means so much to me knowing people enjoy this story!

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sissy servant 737-829-633

Posted November 17th, 2022 ~ 1:03 am

@ Widdle Wendy

oh the delight wendy must have felt when the scrumptious liquid center succumbed thru the chewy condom.. and i read that there was THREE! TWO more treats to help overcome those nasty urges.
"My mantra: I will never disrespect, hurt nor cause injustice to any Female, even a Female child has authority over me."

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Widdle Wendy

Posted November 17th, 2022 ~ 2:59 pm

@ sissy servant 737-829-633

I've really enjoyed writing all the ways Dr. Long's treatments have altered the poor sissy's perceptions. So many new triggers and treats are waiting to be discovered!

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Widdle Wendy

Posted December 5th, 2022 ~ 9:26 pm

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Widdle Wendy

Posted December 21st, 2022 ~ 6:59 pm

A bewildered Wendy emerged into the dining room to find Elizabeth and Philip making their exit. Elizabeth’s giddy laughter trilled in the air as her paramour carried her away in his strong arms.

“I’m afraid my man couldn’t wait,” Elizabeth called as she nuzzled her lover’s chest and neck. “Be useful and bring our desserts to the bedroom.”

“Cooking, cleaning, and room service?” Philip chuckled as he ascended the stairs with his lady love. “That little doll is too good to you.”

“Not as good as she’s going to be,” Elizabeth whispered hotly into her lover’s ear. “You know what, darling? I think you can help me move the little faerie’s training along tonight. Would you do that for me, please?” Elizabeth batted her eyelashes and teased out the question.

“Of course,” Philip replied. “Who could deny a woman like you anything?”

Philip reached the top of the stairs and spun Elizabeth in his arms, then carried her off to the bedroom.

Even if Wendy could have heard Elizabeth and Philip’s whispered conversation from the bottom of the stairs, the sissy would have been too preoccupied with keeping her balance to pay attention. At Dr. Long’s insistence Wendy’s heel training had accelerated over the past few days, and between the punishing hight of her patent leather Mary Janes and the twin stemware parfaits balanced ever so precariously on the silver tray in her delicate hands, negotiating every step up the stairs was a struggle.

Step by dainty step, Wendy made her way up the stairs. She found herself counting down and up, up and down, with each click of her heel upon the hardwood, completely unaware the phantom memory of one of Dr. Long’s inductions was replaying itself in the back of her mind. With each step, each click, each number she grew lighter, balanced, and focused. Her movements gained confidence and poise. He countenance flowed from scowling concentration to the beatific smile of a mindless doll.

By the time Wendy ascended the landing she moved with all the grace of a ballerina and all the speed of a flamenco dancer.

Wendy flowed into the master bedroom to find Elizabeth and Philip pawing at each other before the bed she had made earlier that day.

“Over there,” Elizabeth panted between deep kisses, tilting her head in the general direction of the bedside table.

The sissy maid glided across the room and placed the serving trey as directed, then made to slip out of the room and leave her stepmother and guest to their lovemaking. However, no sooner had Wendy reached the threshold than her stepmother’s authoritative voice rang out.

“You are not dismissed, girl!” Elizabeth barked.

Wendy froze mid step, an icy tingle of fear snaking up her spine. The sissy did her best to compose herself and turned to face her wicked stepmother.

“Ma’am?” Wendy chirped.

Elizabeth gave an exasperated sign of disapproval, then returned her attentions to Philip, leaving her stepsissy to stand in the doorway desperately awaiting a command. When it came, it was not what the sissy maid expected.

“Wendy,” Elizabeth called, giving a playful wink to her lover. “Undress me.”

The sissy maid approached her stepmother and with trembling hands reached out to the zipper on the back of her stepmother’s strapless gown. Wendy had undressed Elizabeth before, of course. Between disrobing Elizabeth before bathing, helping her change ensembles for a night on the town, and preparing her for a long night of beauty rest between silken sheets, the act had become routine, even mundane to Wendy’s deeply conditioned mind. However, never before did the sissy have to contend with her stepmother’s amorous writhing nor the adventuresome hands of an ardent lover.

Wendy drew the zipper of her stepmother’s gown down slowly, desperate not to interfere with the natural flow of Elizabeth’s and Philip’s bodies as the pair kissed and caressed with growing enthusiasm. Philip’s hands eagerly explored every inch of Elizabeth’s bare skin as it was exposed, but in his haste his fingers brushed against Wendy’s time and again. Every brief contact sent a thrilling electric jolt through the sissy’s body she could could neither explain nor deny.

Fully unzipped, Elizabeth’s gown fell to the floor. Thankful to be rid of it, the wicked stepmother stepped out of the elegant satin folds where they pooled at her feet and drew her body closer to that of her lover.

Wendy gathered up the gown and carried it to the wicker laundry hamper while her stepmother and Philip continued their foreplay. In his eagerness to fully enjoy his ladylove’s exquisite body, Philips practiced hands went for the bra clasp between Elizabeth’s shoulder blades.

“Don’t trouble yourself, darling,” Elizabeth cooed as she gently led Philips hands to the secret sweet spot at the small of her back. With a quick glance over her shoulder Elizabeth hissed, “Wendy!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Wendy squeaked as she returned to her stepmother. The sissy unfastened the bra with one nimble move of her delicate little fingers, freeing Elizabeth’s breasts for her lover’s enjoyment. Her task still incomplete, Wendy sank to her knees and slipped her fingers into the waistband of Elizabeth’s black lace panties. Wendy’s eyes followed the slow, sensuous motions of her stepmother’s backside as she carefully removed her panties.

A flutter of jealousy arose in the sissy maid as one of Philip’s strong hands caressed the shapely ass before her, though thanks to Dr. Long’s many post-hypnotic suggestions not even Wendy knew if she was truly envious of her stepmother’s lover or her stepmother herself in that moment.

Still admiring the view, Wendy helped Elizabeth step out of her panties and slingback heels. The sissy maid then brought her fingers up to unfasten her stepmother’s garter belt clips only to have her hands slapped away.

“The stockings and garters stay,” Elizabeth said. “Isn’t that right, love?”

“You know I can’t resist a hot little number in silk stockings,” Philip breathed into his lover’s ear, though his eyes never left Wendy where she kneeled gathering up her stepmothers shoes, panties, and bra.

Discarded clothes in hand, the sissy maid rose to her feet and returned to the laundry hamper. Wendy tossed her stepmother’s underthings in the hamper and closed the lid. Gripping the hampers wicker handles, Wendy made ready to leave the two lovers to their coupling. However, the moment she lifted the hamper Elizabeth’s icy voice cut across the room.

“Where do you think you’re going, you lazy thing? You task is only half done.”

Wendy dropped the hamper and turned to face Elizabeth. “Yes, mother?” the sissy lisped.

Elizabeth stood before Wendy, bare except for her silk stockings and garter belt. Her manicured hand ran demonstrably over Philip’s broad shoulders, muscled chest, and well-packed athletic shorts.

“My lover is overdressed,” Elizabeth purred. “Disrobe him!”

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sissybabysamantha2

Posted August 30th, 2022 ~ 3:10 pm

I have just discovered your. It is wonderful. The humiliation that poor Widdle Wendy has gone through. Have you got any more planned for her

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Widdle Wendy

Posted August 30th, 2022 ~ 4:56 pm

@ sissybabysamantha2

Thank you for reading my story! I have a few more things planned for Wendy before the story ends, and there will be an epilogue. I have the next three chapters planned out, and the next chapter is almost done. I'm hoping to post it this weekend if I can find the time to edit it.

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sissybabysamantha2

Posted September 1st, 2022 ~ 8:17 am

@ Widdle Wendy

I cant wait to read it

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Widdle Wendy

Posted November 4th, 2022 ~ 2:43 pm

I'm hard at work on the next chapter of Wendy's New Taste! Until it's ready, I've started posting revised chapters to my new page on Deviant Art. If you'd like to have a whole new perspective on poor Wendy's adventures in feminization, you can read them here! I will continue to post new rough draft chapters here on SissyKiss, but I will also start posting new fiction and art on Deviant Art that doesn't quite fit with the themes of SissyKiss.

Love to all my readers! You make this project worthwhile!

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Baby Mac

Posted November 5th, 2022 ~ 11:59 am

@ Widdle Wendy

You deserve more credit.

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Widdle Wendy

Posted November 5th, 2022 ~ 4:17 pm

@ Baby Mac

Thank you so much!

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Widdle Wendy

Posted April 10th, 2024 ~ 8:34 pm

Wendy stood dumbfounded, her mind lost between the fraying limits of her sexuality and her hypnotic conditioning to obey, obey, obey.

“It doesn’t take that much to get me out of these old things,” Philip chuckled as he reached for the hem of his sweat-stained polo shirt.

“Don’t trouble yourself, darling,” Elizabeth whispered as she stilled her lover’s hand. “Let the sissy do her job.” Elizabeth locked eyes with her sissy step daughter and snapped her fingers authoritatively. “Now!”

Shocked into action, Wendy approached Philip with small, trembling steps. Seemingly more so than before, the athletic lawyer towered over the meek sissy maid. The size and the smell of him filled Wendy’s senses as she approached. At last within arm’s length, Wendy stood eye level to Philip’s broad chest. The sissy drew in a deep breath to steady her nerves and found all too quickly this was a mistake.

Philip’s musky aftershave, lingering athletic perspiration, and even the subtle odor of his own arousal flooded the sissy’s nose and filled her lungs, setting off a cascade of post-hypnotic triggers.

Wendy quivered, swayed, and looked as if she would faint dead away. Before her eyes could focus or her head could clear, Wendy’s hands reached out for Philip’s shirt of their own accord. By the time the sissy could comprehend what she was doing Philip’s shirt was already halfway off, revealing sculpted abs and gym-hardened pectorals covered in a rugged swath of body hair.

Philip obligingly raised his arms and leaned forward, shrouding Wendy in his shadow as she labored to pull the shirt over his head and down his powerful arms. The rich odor of Philip’s underarms assaulted the sissy maid’s senses, setting every fiber of her being afire with strange, programmed desires she could not consciously decipher.

Wendy couldn’t resist drawing her nose across Philip’s shirt before she deposited it into the hamper, drawing chuckles from Elizabeth and her lover.

“Very good, dear,” Elizabeth cooed, placing a firm hand on Wendy’s should and pushing the sissy to her knees.

On her knees, Wendy was eye level with the straining fabric of Philip’s athletic shorts. The heady odor of exertion and arousal enveloped the sissy maid. The impression went beyond scent and taste. Wendy could feel Philip’s essence on her skin, filling her pores, clinging to her and warming her like fervid tropical air. Without any deliberate thought on her part, Wendy reached trembling hands toward the waistband of Philip’s shorts.

Elizabeth struck the sissy maid across the face. “Patience, you impetuous thing,” Elizabeth scolded. “A lady always saves the best for last.” The cruel stepmother pointed to her lover’s feet.“

Properly cowed, Wendy fell to her hands and knees and began removing Philip’s socks.

The odor of Philip’s sweat-stained socks and feet made a stark impression on the sissy maid’s mind, but it was nothing compared to the redolence of his growing manhood. He caught the effeminate creature’s furtive upward glances at his well-packed bulged and couldn’t help but grow impatient. He lifted each foot, one after the other, to ease the maid’s task, wiggling his toes as he did so to waft more of his scent in her direction.

Wendy moved like a puppet dancing on Dr. Long’s hypnotic strings, daintily placing Philip’s socks in the hamper one after the other. Remaining on her knees, the sissy maid sat up until she was again at eye level with Philip’s shorts, the tip of her nose inches from the reeking fabric and everything it struggled to contain.

“Don’t be shy, dear,” Elizabeth purred as she drew her fingers down her lover’s chest, abs, and swelling bulge. “I can’t wait any longer, and as you can see neither can my lover. Finish what you started.”

At her stepmother’s command a strange relief passed over Wendy. The sissy maid reached up and slid her delicate fingers under the waistband of Philip’s shorts. The heat of Philip’s skin seemed to travel down Wendy’s arms and infect her body. The sissy’s trembling breaths grew into deep gasps, as if she was trying to drink in the very essence of her stepmother’s lover.

“Do it,” Elizabeth hissed.

“Do it,” Philip moaned.

“Oh, yes ma'am, sir,” Wendy sighed with an upward glance at the two dominant presences that loomed above her.

Wendy pulled down Philips shorts, working slowly to prolong the moment. Inch by inch the last of Philip’s sculpted flesh was revealed. Breath by breath the heady masculine odor assaulted the sissy’s body and mind. Wendy’s eyes grew wide as she exposed more and more of Philip’s manhood. The length, the size, the intoxicating power of him seemed unending. With one final tug on the overstretched, sweat-stained fabric, Wendy released the totality of Philip’s endowment.

Philip’s erection sprang forth, striking the sissy on the cheek with an audible smack. Overwhelmed as she was, the impact was enough to knock Wendy backwards as if she had been sent sprawling by one of her stepmother’s corrective slaps.

Elizabeth and her lover broke into peals laughter. Wendy struggled to maintain some level of composure, her eyes darting between her step mother, Philip, and Philip’s proud erection.

Elizabeth wrapped her hand around the base of her lover’s cock and waggled it mockingly at the sissy maid. “What’s the matter, Wendy?” Elizabeth giggled. “Is my man too much for you?”

Wendy parted her lips to speak but was cut off by another of Elizabeth’s sharp commands.

“You are dismissed,” Elizabeth barked. “Get out of here before you spoil my evening.”

With a lisped “Yes, ma’am,” Wendy scrambled to her feet and snatched up the laundry hamper. The sissy traipsed to the door, her petticoats rustling, only to be brought to a halt by another word from her step mother.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Elizabeth asked.

“Ma’am?” Wendy responded, doing a little pirouette in the doorway. No sooner had the sissy turned that she was struck full in the face by Philip’s pungent athletic shorts.

The derisive laughter of Elizabeth and her lover echoed throughout the house as Wendy skittered our of the bedroom and made for the stairs. The sissy’s heart raced the entire way to the laundry room. Only when she tipped the hamper out onto the laundry room floor and and closed the door behind her did she stop to catch her breath and attempt to regain some control over her senses.

Wendy leaned with her back against the laundry room door and drew a deep breath, the last of Philip’s odor clearing from her nose. The sissy let her legs surrender to exhaustion and slid down to the floor. Only when she caught her breath did Wendy become away of a lingering wetness on her cheek.

Wendy reached up and touched the spot of moisture. The sissy was oddly surprised to find it was not a tear that stained her cheek. Pulling her fingers away, Wendy regarded the substance that now coated their tips. It was at once sticky and oily, warm to the touch from lingering body heat. And it smelled . . .

Overtaken by an impulse secreted deep in her subconscious, Wendy brought her fingers to her lips and tasted.

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