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If Women Ruled The World Ch. 01

By: chronoxxx



It was at age 18 my life began to change dramatically and, I guess, I didn't realise just how profound those changes were going to be. We'd all been horrified by tales about the great big world outside, but no one took them seriously. And besides, information is really hard to disseminate when you're a man. Nobody trusted the rumours from beyond the perimeter.

Life prior to my 18th had been largely spent in the complete enclosure of Sulihall Secondary of Etiquette, from ages 11-16, studying in the usual male pursuits: home economics, sewing, fashion and homemaking. Then two years ago, I graduated to Sulihall College of Etiquette, which had a reputation for churning out some of the best subservients in the country, apparently. I am a few hours away now from taking the most important exam of my life: The Aptitude Test.

They say it's simple, that it doesn't hurt, you don't have to do much and it lasts under an hour. But we all know, however, that that one hour will be incredibly significant; it will determine where our futures lie as men and eventually, where and which Mistress we will come to serve.

My test was now 1 hour and 5 minutes away. I said goodbye to my friends, as I knew I would never see them again, and entered the waiting corridor, heart thumping and a nervous sweat forming on my brow. They called us in alphabetically. Next to me was a handsome looking guy who must have been over 6 foot. As I sat next to him he just gave me a nervous look. I could see him visibly gulp. He was now only 5 minutes from going in himself. 

I fidgeted in my plain college uniform and twiddled my thumbs, mind a frenzy of crazy images about what lay ahead of me. After what seemed like an eternity, a door opened.

A smooth Female voice called out "Allan Brunswick, please." He stood up straight, glanced at me again and gingerly disappeared down the corridor and through a door to the left.

A male invigilator in an officer's uniform stood beside the door making sure there was no talking in the corridor between candidates. He jangled some keys in his pocket a bit. On his name tag read, "Property of Mistress Swales."

He didn't look too unhappy to me. From his posture he looks like he takes his job seriously but he doesn't look too unhappy, I convinced myself almost hysterically. I gulp in fear of my complete lack of knowledge of what is in store. Maybe his Mistress is a nice person to serve? Maybe he didn't do too well on his Aptitude test but things still turned out well for him? I didn't have answers to these questions. My legs felt weak and taught, aching with adrenaline.

Half an hour passed. Then three-quarters. Then fifty minutes. My jaw began to wobble. The guy to my right, who had just arrived, sat rigidly in his chair, eyes blazing at the beige wall ahead. 

Another ten minutes, then Allan Brunswick stepped from the departure door with a big smile on his face. He was being congratulated on his success. "Well done, Mr Stud!" squealed one female voice. This made me feel even worse.

Another two minutes grinded by.

"Jason Byrnes, please" came the sweet Female coo. The call only shocked me further into my seat. But slowly I arose as if made of clay and stepped towards the door. A beaming and beautiful Female face welcomed me in. I wanted to turn and run.

She ushered me into the room and began to talk at me.

"Okay Jason, we're going to run some tests. It's nothing to be scared of. You won't feel a thing, we're just going to collect data about you and calculate part of your Aptitude score from that."

"Yes, Mistress" I replied dutifully.

I felt like I was entering a volcano. I could feel sweat collecting in my armpits -- something that would be frowned upon.

"Now I want you to come through to this room. Sit on this chair and we'll wire you up." She smiled at me with big blue eyes. It was so rare to see a Female, a Woman this close, it was intoxicating. The only Women we saw were our Principals and sometimes, our teachers.

I took my seat just as She said, in front of a large television set. Another couple of Women then entered the room and attached a pulse sensor to my chest and another to my lower abdomen. They all stuck easily because of the amount I was perspiring.

"Just try to relax" one of the nurses suggested.

Then the other one spoke, "You don't want it to affect your score, do you?"

Through my anxiety I couldn't tell whether She was being sarcastic or genuine.

"No, Mistress," I replied breathily.

The Mistresses left the room in a blur and locked the door leaving me to bask in their heavenly perfume. It quickly became choking and sickly in light of the current situation however.

Then the TV in front of me burst into life. The logo of the school appeared before the title "Aptitude and Sexual Identity Test, Scene 1".

To my complete and utter disbelief, pornography appeared before me. A brunette Woman and a man having sex. Bewildered, I looked around.

A stern Female voice suddenly crackled through on a loud speaker above where I was sitting, "You must focus on the material before you, or you will void the test, resulting in an automatic zero score."

Gulping, I turned my attention back to the TV. The brunette was fairly attractive. Her breasts were quite big and were being mauled by a rather muscular looking man with a large appendage. As She moaned I began to feel stimulated. My heart rate quickened. 

The TV then went blank for 2 minutes as I calmed down.

It then flashed back into life in the image of a blonde Woman being fucked by a very large black man. I found Her far prettier and more attractive than the brunette, resulting in a quickening of my heart rate again. She was beautiful and I felt the starvation of sex I'd felt for my entire life biting hard.

Several more scenes appeared in this fashion, each displaying different Women of different ethnicities, sizes and attributes, but none of them quite turned me on as much as the first blonde Woman.

Then, to my surprise and disgust, the next scene didn't involve a man and a Woman but two men. This didn't turn me on at all, and I found myself being warned for turning away from the TV 3 more times. It was very difficult to concentrate on and I found the entire scene quite distasteful.

The scene vanished after 5 minutes and a new scene appeared with what initially looked like a man and a Woman. It was only after a minute or so that I realised the Woman had male genitalia. It held my attention out of sheer curiosity and I watched as Her hard cock bounced around as She was being fucked.

After a few more variations of scenes, the TV went blank and the nurses reappeared to detach all of the sensors.

I was led into another room where I was instantly weighed after taking my shoes off. A nurse asked me to take my top off too and then my shorts. I felt vulnerable to Her feminine touch as She stretched a tape measure across the breadth of my shoulders, my stomach and then my hips. I was then measured for height and saw Her jot down 5'7" in a table, which contained all sorts of other data all below my name.

I was subjected to a quick sensory test before the nurse handed me a beaker full of a yellowish substance and asked me to drink it. I did so in one, screwing my face at the bitter taste.

3 Mistresses then entered the room, as if on queue, each armed with a clipboard and pen. They seemed to inspect me in circles for around 5 or 6 minutes making notes on my body and face. I managed to surreptitiously capture the names of each Mistress from their ID tags: the shorter Indian Woman was called Mistress Nehru, the taller red-haired Woman peering through thick-rimmed glasses was called Mistress Michaels, and the stern blonde Woman with short hair was called Mistress Dawson. Their high heels clicked authoritatively around my scantily clad body. They all looked about as serious as they come.

As well as the intense scrutiny I felt, the substance I'd ingested earlier was beginning to bubble in my stomach. I was feeling queasy when I noticed I was getting an erection. The Mistresses who had just inspected me stood together in an expectant line and exchanged notes, whilst the nurse to my left snapped on some rubber gloves. My heart-rate quickened significantly as my erection tented my boxer shorts. The embarrassment burned in my cheeks as all of the Women glanced down.

Then the nurse turned to me and began taking down my boxer shorts. I opened my mouth to protest, but was instantly cut off by an imperious boom from the red-haired Mistress, "You will speak when spoken to, is that clear?"

"Yes, Mistress" I croaked pathetically.

The nurse, now measuring my naked penis with a tube-like device, knelt at my crotch. I gulped as She then wrote down two figures, one under length and one under girth. The silence was deafening and every face in the room was impassive apart from mine which, I'm sure, was tortured.

I was instructed to get dressed and to enter the final room for my results. Drained from all of the stress, I lethargically put my clothes back on to prepare for the final assault. This felt worse than the gruelling physical exam I had to take a week ago. 

I entered the final room and glanced at the clock. Just under an hour had passed. The nurse who had measured and noted down all of my vital statistics smiled coldly at me, Her nametag revealing the name Mistress Harrison.

"We're just calculating your overall score, Mr Byrnes" She informed me politely.

Mistress Nehru then appeared holding a laptop and began chatting to Mistress Harrison. In my scrutinised and exhausted state I still found time to note how attractive Mistress Nehru was.

I stood weakly, feeling my lungs begin to labour.

"Okay Mr Byrnes" Mistress Nehru said turning, eyes boring holes into me. 

"Here is your result... The overall score for your Aptitude test is 31% percent."

My heart plummeted. Was that good...or bad?

Mistress Nehru continued, answering my unspoken question, "That places you in the rank of sissy."

I nodded meekly, heartbroken.

"Just so you know the ranking system, if you score between 0-32%, you rank as Sissy, as you are. 33-52% is the rank of Maid, 53%-62% is the Homemaker range, where most of our candidates actually score, 63%-72% is the rank of Stud, 73-88% is the rank of Bull and 89% plus is the rank of Stallion; very rare. You will be provided with booklets detailing these rankings including your own."

I could barely speak. Words were like dry rocks lodged in my throat. "Wh- why do I..." I began to mumble.

"Speak up, sissy!" Mistress Nehru bellowed at me causing me to step back slightly and my eyes to widen.

"Wh- why did I score so low?" I managed to ask feebly.

"You mean you want a run down of your results? You will get them in the mail but essentially, you fell down on physical and behavioural attributes."

She tapped on Her laptop on the desk, "We still have a couple of minutes; I can pull them up". All the while Mistress Harrison was sat at Her desk dangling a high heel stiletto from one of Her crossed legs inspecting Her bright red nails.

"Hmm, well, you started out well in the physical tests, scoring highly in your sprint. However, from then on it went downhill. Your weightlifting score was very low, as were all upper body tests in fact. Your physical measurements are very low, the breadth of your shoulders is low, your height is just below average, with almost 70% of all Women standing an inch or so taller than you in standard 5 inch heels. The biggest detracting factor however, is your penis size. At 11cm long you are bigger than only 2.5% of the male population..."

This figure brought a smirk from Mistress Harrison who suddenly awoke from Her daydream.

"... and at 12 centimetres in circumference you are bigger than 46%, which isn't too bad. Behaviourally, you show a high degree of submissiveness; never once have you answered back or shown dissent -- we expect every pupil to be unruly at some point but you never have been, so we know from your previous excellent behaviour that you will serve well, and enjoy it. You are also very good with female fashion and clothes. This is coupled with your results on the Aptitude and Sexual Identity test you did about 25 minutes ago. In that test you showed uhm, a high degree of sexual arousal to the blonde Female which was only surpassed by your intense reaction to the transsexual Woman..."

My jaw dropped open.

"...which when offset against your other results places you squarely as a sissy with a preference for feminisation." She finished Her spiel and looked up at me.

I stared at Her stunned into silence, my masculinity in tatters.

"Is that good enough?" She prompted.

After a minute I nodded slowly.

"Okay, you may leave. Your test has ended. You will be notified when a suitable Mistress is found for you to serve in around 3 hours time. Congratulations, you are now a sissy for the rest of your life!"

"Th-thank-you Mistresses" I choked and left the room. 

I returned to my room stalking the empty corridors like a ghost. Every other guy in the building, apart from those going for their Aptitude Tests, were in lessons. I had now just officially finished college and my life as a male ended with it. In my room I flopped on the bed next to my packed suitcases and ridiculed myself for being such a pushover.

I opened the booklets that Mistress Nehru gave to me and read. It would be a good few hours before the correct Mistress was found for me to serve.

"...As an honest, dutiful, subservient sissy, you will be expected to indulge your Mistress' every whim. You cannot answer back and must carry out every task that She delegates to you..." That was how the opening paragraph of my new life read.

It continues, page after page, "Each task you are given is a gift from your Mistress, on whom you are completely dependent..."

"...Standard greeting when meeting a Mistress from now on is to curtsey..."

"...Your attire will be chosen by your Mistress. However, this is dependent on whether you have been designated a sissy or a sissy with a preference for feminisation. Please turn to page 89 for a complete guide to a sissy with a preference for feminisation."

As the time passed, I flicked through the book and read about as much as I could. I reached the section for Stud. "As a stud you have a great deal of autonomy and freewill. However, your primary function is to the pleasure of Womankind. Most of your time will be spent entertaining and pleasing Girlfriends, but do not make the mistake of thinking you are in servitude -- that is a sissy's job. You will be primarily used for Female sexual gratification and satisfaction. You may also take a job and further specialised education."

I skipped ahead to the chapter for Bulls. "As a Bull you are an alpha male. You may only service and breed with any Female of your choosing in the hope that more Alphas will be born. You have a great degree of free time but you are obligated to your duties at the Breeding Parlours. If you do not fulfil them you might find yourself stripped of the rank of Bull. This would be a grave misjudgement as the rank of Bull comes with many privileges and directly piques your biological requirement to Spread Your Seed."

I didn't even want to read what it said for Stallion. "You are a rare find. A superior specimen of man. You are the most privileged of men. You choose who to breed with and you are permitted to fall in love and marry, usually both prohibited practices. You can take as many wives as you desire..."

That was it; I felt really sick and couldn't read another sentence. I just hoped and prayed my Mistress would exercise Her own discretion and be kind to me. 

If Women Ruled The World Ch. 02



I arrived at the bottom of the stairs of Sulihall College of Etiquette for the final time with my luggage, ready to meet my new Mistress. Nothing seemed real as I headed for the reception desk where 3 Ladies stood talking to each other, their towering high heeled silhouettes casting a shadow from the bright, unknown world outside. My mind was in a fug when I reached the Women who all stopped talking when I approached. 

"What have you been taught, SISSY?!" one of the Ladies boomed. 

Feverishly I looked at their faces for an answer. 

"Curtsey," someone prompted me. 

With great awkwardness I lowered my knees observing that the tall, pale redhead Woman was smirking at me with approval, "Well he does have high-cheek bones, I'll give you that!" 

The Ladies laughed before the redheaded Woman continued, "I just hope he won't have the same problems as my previous sissy." 

"We don't think you'll have any problems," the brunette interjected, "we rarely have problems with sissies with a preference for feminisation. Once they are serving their Mistress, they lose all interest in anything else." 

They talked about me as if I wasn't there, before the redhead looked at me approvingly one more time and spoke with a large grin forming, "I'm your new Mistress, Jason. And I really do hope I won't have to send you to Correctional like my previous sissy." 

My mouth had gone completely dry. So this was She, the Woman I would serve for the rest of my days... 

"You do know what Correctional is, don't you?" She asked. As I gazed up into Her deep green eyes I could only shake my head 'no'.

The brunette Mistress filled me in, "Correctional is a very nasty place where disobedient sissies learn the error of their ways. Believe me, sissy, you don't want to end up there." 

"Right, lets get moving!" my Mistress wound up the conversation enthusiastically. Given the way I felt, it was almost offensive to hear Her make light of the situation. 

"You won't be needing your luggage, honey, we've got an entirely new wardrobe for you!" one of the other Mistresses informed me before taking suitcase from me wheeling it into a corridor. 

My Mistress then passed me Her handbag and clicked Her way out of the building on Her impossibly high heels leaving me to follow a couple of yards behind. The outside world greeted me with harsh sunlight as we walked towards a lot of parked cars before She opened the door of an elaborately designed vehicle that had many smooth, gentle curves, almost like my Mistress' legs. The door lifted up almost striking me in the head and She got in the other side, quite aware that I was struggling to take in all of this new information. 

There were only two leather seats in this vehicle save for a small compartment cut out of the back. "In future, you will be expected to open all of the car doors for me and my guests, but since its your first day, I'll go lightly on you!" She grinned before lamenting, "I do hope they were right about you, my last sissy was an absolute nightmare, but then again, he didn't want to dress like a Girl!" 

"I want to dress like a Girl?" My thoughts of protestation were interrupted as the vehicle loudly rumbled into life. Before long it purred as it whisked us through the streets. Something about it made me want to investigate it more - who built it? How would one operate it? These fleeting questions diminished as I couldn't help but look out of the windows at other vehicles and people in the streets, so many Women everywhere, so many reflective glass buildings and cameras on top of poles. In what seemed like no time at all we turned into a more secluded residence where the gravel audibly crumpled beneath the wheels. We parked up near another vehicle and my heart rate quickened at the possibility of being introduced to other people. Very quickly it became clear however that nobody else was inside the red-bricked building. It looked pretty messy inside with clothes and unwashed plates and pans everywhere. 

"As you can see, without a sissy I've been forced to cook and wash myself," She tutted, hand on hip glaring at the mess, "Women are just not cut out for such work, its just not in our genes." She gradually surveyed the house turning full circle on Her spiked heels. "It could sure do with a sissy's touch!" She mused with a large deep red lipsticked grin. "Right, I'd better get things rolling. I've never had a sissy with a preference for feminisation before, but we'll have to muddle through. Come on, sissy, follow me to your room." 

I followed Her up a rather tight staircase still clutching Her handbag tightly before She opened 'my' door into 'my' room. The door swung open and a sea of pinks charged out at me. It was everywhere, pink hearts on pink striped wallpaper, a hot fuchsia bed with large dusky pink pillows and bows, the pastel pink carpet, and wardrobes, the curtains, the ceiling, the lampshades... 

"I know you're just going to love it here!" She exclaimed, "you must be in wonderland." I wanted to turn and run but I remembered the warning about Correctional, so I remained frozen to the spot. She tugged me inside and sat me down on the bed before taking Her handbag from me. "I'll let you settle in for 20 minutes while I read the instructions about what we're to do next, okay?" 

I just nodded and with that She closed the door, which was painted pink on one side, just to complete the picture. "How has this come to be?" I asked myself. School was just school, I did everything I had been told during my 'education' and now I find that it has all been in preparation for this? This is my life now? It suddenly dawned on me that my education contained next to nothing about the outside world. They'd prepared me for a life of interiors. 

My Mistress returned, still perfectly balanced in Her high heels and sat next to me on the bed, intoxicating me with Her perfume, Her smile disarming. "Now," She spoke in a soft, soothing voice, "I'm Mistress Walker and you should be familiar with how to address me. I expect courtesy at ALL times. Anyway, it's all detailed here in this book which says to start with a bath to groom yourself." 

I gulped hard. 

"That means you have to take the sissy grooming pack that is in the bathroom, which is marked for you, and follow the instructions inside." She turned to me looking more stern, "You have to follow each and every instruction very, VERY carefully. If you have any problems, just call me and I'll come to help." 

I just sat there breathing heavily looking scared. 

"Aww, aren't you a picture of fragility?!" My Mistress cooed before hugging me. It was literally the first time a Woman had touched me in such a way. It felt good but it didn't take away the feelings of terror coursing through my veins and the growing realisation that I could do nothing about this. "Don't be scared" She continued, "we'll have you looking pretty in no time!" 

Eventually She took my hand and led me to the bathroom, which like the rest of the house, needed a good cleaning.



If Women Ruled The World Ch. 03



I studied the bottle of luminous green liquid carefully before introducing it to the bathwater. As the instructions directed, I then stirred it in until the formula had uniformly dispersed. Its sickly look mirrored the growing feeling in the pit of my stomach. I then attached a curious gauze just above my genitals covering part of my pubic hair and gingerly stepped into the toxic looking bath. Very quickly hairs of various lengths floated to the surface as I submerged. Disturbed by what was happening, I hopped out and wiped my leg to find that all of the hairs had somehow been scythed off by the chemical, leaving smooth patches wherever I touched. 

"What the hell?!" This was too much for me to take. Why should I remove my body hair, for whose benefit? The more I considered things, the more I edged closer to plucking up the nerve to do something about it. But when? How? My lack of knowledge of the outside world made me feel small and ill-equipped. 

My intense deliberation was broken as Mistress Walker cooed through the door, "Are you almost done in there, sissy?" 

That word again. "Almost, Mistress."

Fearing the consequences should She walk in, I stepped back into the bath and doomed myself to a hairless body. With a sponge I then quickly introduced another more viscous formula to my chin for a few minutes before washing it away. If I'd had any hairs on my face, I'm sure it would have removed them too. 

After the requisite amount of time had passed, I got out and dried myself off before letting the water and all my body hair go. I continued to read the instructions and to my horror I found that it was a single-use hair removal fluid and no hair would grow on my body again where the substance made contact! So that's why the instructions were so precise. Unnerved I looked down at my slim, pale body, forever shorn of its hair save for the gauze. My pinkish nipples seemed to stand out. "That does it." Subconsciously I began priming myself for an escape attempt. I then removed the gauze to find a very feminine looking tuft where my once thick pubic hair had been. If possible, my heart sank further. 

The next set of instructions told me to spray myself with the purple bottle. It was nothing drastic as far as I could tell, just perfume, sweet, sugary perfume. As I removed my shower cap, Mistress knocked at the door. 

"You should be finished by now, sissy!" She didn't wait for an answer before entering. Instantly, Her eyes found my body as I embarrassedly tried to cover my half-erect willy and nipples. She stifled a grin once more, "looks like we're 90% there already!" 

My face turned red with horror and anger at my visibly emasculated, smooth body as She reached for my arm and powerfully dragged me back into 'my' pink room. "I bet you're so excited to see your new wardrobe, aren't you?!" The dominant, curly-haired redhead seemed impatient and determined. Again, She didn't wait for a response. The doors were flung open and dress after pretty pink dress stared back at me. Finally, it was more than I could take: a tear rolled down my cheek, then another and another which I tried to catch, with my hands I tried to cover up my face, my eyes turning red. I hadn't cried in years. 

Mistress looked for my response, "Oh, oh sweetie, I KNEW you'd love it! You'll finally be like you always wanted! Oh, there, there" That was the complete opposite of how I felt; I wanted to push Her off and run far, far away, but encased in Her strong, tight hug, I once again found myself paralysed. I could feel the pressure of Her large breasts against my chest as I continued to cry, shudder and snivel. 

"Lets get you some makeup so you can get dressed, hmm? Will that make you feel better?" I wiped away my tears trying to steady myself and locate the anger that pervaded my being not 2 minutes ago. Her voice rose in volume slightly at my lack of a response, "Will that make you feel better, SISSY?" I looked up into Her sparkling green eyes once more and they told me to respond. Feeling evermore broken, I nodded. 

"OK!" She lit up once more and sat me down, before turning to the dresser which was cluttered with makeup. "Aside from being so obedient, I picked you for a sissy because you aced all of your makeup and fashion exams. Sooo... show me - beautify yourself." It was true. I had spent many long years practicing putting makeup on the lifelike dummies at school, simply because I was told to. I was considered an 'expert' at it and always got very good grades in this class. 

"I know perfectly well how to do my own makeup, of course" Mistress Walker continued as she studied her pencil skirt that bulged with her large round bottom in the full length mirror, "but I would eventually like you to do it for me, exactly and as quickly as I desire. I know you're capable of giving me the most professional looks." She then sat and watched me as I fought to hold back tears and gradually applied the makeup automatically thinking about what colours and tones my face would suit. Of course, when handling makeup and fashion at school the thought had crossed my mind what it would look like on myself, but never once had I acted on it. 

Mistress seemed genuinely intrigued as She observed me struggling with my emotions. I wanted to throw the makeup down, push Her out of my way and run. I glanced at Her as She propped Her head up on Her hand which in turn was propped on Her knee. Could She tell what I was thinking? Through all of the trauma and confusion I couldn't help but realise how beautiful She was. Her reddish curls hung about Her pale face and Her green eyes gleamed at me with rude health. Being this close to a Female was intoxicating, drunkening and more than a little disturbing. She looked so delicate but seemed physically stronger than me, taller and more commanding, sure of what She wanted, especially from me. I gradually turned back to the mirror and soon mascara covered eyes and glazed lips jumped out from my boyish face in the dresser mirror. 

Mistress smiled and clapped, "bravo, very impressive, now for clothes!" She pounced over to the wardrobe and delighted in picking an entire outfit for me, everything from underwear to shoes. I started to snivel again as the frilly clothing built up on the bed. 

"Hmm, stockings or tights?" She asked Herself before grabbing the nude stockings with pink lace tops and matching garterbelt. She placed them with the other clothes as She sat once more, this time much closer to me. "It says in your Sissy Bible that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery," She began, "This means that every feminine sissy must make herself a tribute to Womankind. You must always take pride in your appearance, dressing in the most feminine articles possible. You have all the attributes to keep both me and you looking beautiful and sexy. I expect you to never let me or yourself down, do you hear, young miss?" 

I gulped hard and snivelled a bit more, my bottom lip quivering, "Yes Mistress." 

"Good. I want you to read your Sissy Bible every chance you can. It contains lots of useful information about the big wide world you're stepping into and your place in it. After you're dressed, come find me downstairs." With that She got up and left. 

The book was very large and heavy in my hands and as one would expect, it was pink. I flicked through a couple of pages as my nail polish dried, careful not to get it anywhere. On first glance there seemed to be a lot of stuff about breeding, DNA and good stock, which left me nonplussed. I closed the book and dwelled on my predicament again, as I inspected my new sugary pink fingernails and toes. All this time in school I thought that I'd be helping Women wear all these things, little did I realise it was partly intended for me too. I can't believe I didn't ask more questions - why did I have to be so obedient and diligent?! Why was I such a pushover, a goody, goody? I guess I liked receiving the praise of the teachers too much, addicted to the pat on the head and the approving smile. Especially from Female teachers. 

The dress was utterly horrifying with puffy pink petticoats and a large bow in the back. I assessed the underwear: a high leg lacy thong with a stretchy sheer front panel all in pink, a matching bra and garterbelt, a pair of high heeled court shoes. Gulping, I picked up the thong and noticed the logo, 'Miss Priss'. Am I really expected to dress like this? Do Women dress like this? With a sudden rush of adrenaline I put the thong down and decided to make a break for it, resolving to find my old clothes. Did I leave them in the bathroom where I took them off? With absolute caution I cracked open the door of my pink room and checked the hallway before tiptoeing down the corridor. In the distance I could hear the muffled sounds of laughter from a television. I made it safely to the bathroom but there was nothing on the floor! Nothing. She had taken them. My heart was knocked so hard and heavy I swayed and perspired as I tiptoed back to my room, suddenly conscious of the makeup on my face, my hairless naked body and my very nearly dry pink finger and toe nails. Choices: I could attempt to leave naked and find some clothes from somewhere; I could wear these horrible sissy clothes and at least cover myself up; Or I could bide my time, find my clothes then make a break for it later. 

If Her behaviour so far was anything to go by I knew Mistress would soon be coming so I defeatedly picked up the thong. It felt so delicate and fragile in my hands as I stepped into it and pulled it up. But as it passed my hairless knees and I saw my feminine pink toes covered in nail varnish, something unexpected happened: my willy became incredibly hard and stood straight up. I panicked trying to somehow force it down or think of something that would take my mind off what I was doing. 5 confusing minutes later, as I looked at it encased in these pretty pink knickers, my erection was harder than ever. I sighed once more in defeat and pulled on the sheer bra. Everything fitted me so well, it was hard to believe that She could have known all my sizes so accurately so quickly. The nude stockings came next and I bunched them up before pointing one of my hairless stems into the slender fabric. The stockings coated my legs with a thin film of nylon subtly evening out the contours of my legs. They had to be less than 10 denier, maybe even 7, since I could easily see my painted toenails through the nylon. I attached them to the garter belt and turned around. 

My bottom lip quivered as I caught sight of my lingerie clad body in the mirror. The image instantly created a strange frisson in my body, like a war of hormones and emotion, just like the girlish image before me tainted by the still boyish, short-haired look to my musculature and face. This was surely a form of torture, of slavery, and I felt so fractured, in pieces almost. The dress came next and I lowered it over my head before pulling it down until it looked even in the mirror. I gulped hard feeling ridiculous, utterly ridiculous - how could this possibly be a tribute to Womankind? The worst thing was that the dress was so short you could see my bare backside, and even worse, my erect willy. I tried pulling harder on the dress to cover myself up but it made no difference, it was clearly designed to not cover up my nether regions. Unless I could find a way of getting rid of my erection, my body would betray me and Mistress would see. She would then think I liked all of this horrible stuff!

There was only one way. My breath laboured as I pulled down my sheer thong and began to stroke my 11cm willy. As I did so I couldn't help but notice how feminine my hands now looked. Neither could I believe how hard or how close to orgasming I was so soon. I watched as this very feminine boy cum hard in the mirror with one or two spurts. It was one of the most intense orgasms I'd ever had and it caused me to grunt. As my senses returned I found some convenient tissues with which to clean up the mess. Thankfully, my erection faded and I tucked it into my thong. 

Steadying myself, I then put on the 4.5 inch pink court shoes. Again they fitted perfectly, with the stockings giving just enough of a slip to make them easy to get on. I stood toppling on them and wobbled very carefully over to the door not wanting my erection to return so soon. 

Mistress Walker was lead on Her couch watching the television as I entered the room. "Oh!" She cooed at the sight of me as Her eyes fell embarrassingly to my crotch. "Oh." Her intonation noticeably dipped, "do you not like the clothes I bought for you?" 

I gulped getting the distinct impression She was very disappointed. "Um, y-yes, Mistress." 

Her brow furrowed, "Are you lying to me, sissy?" The large bottomed redhead sat up, "I would have thought you'd like wearing pretty, feminine clothes that suit your physique so much better than that boring sexless school uniform. Maybe you don't like sensually rolling stockings up your legs pretending you're a beautiful Woman like me?" 

I looked at Her pleadingly, feeling a heat rising in my cheeks but also, devastatingly, in my groin. 

"I would have thought you'd love learning to walk in those sexy pink heels that make your pantied bum stick out. Hmm? Maybe I was wrong about you, maybe you wouldn't like to worship me and my body while wearing all of these clothes?" She writhed on the couch basking in my torture before continuing, "And maybe I won't introduce you to other Mistress' sissies so you can fall in love and rub your little white willies together?" With that She laughed loudly and watched with satisfaction as my willy shamefully hardened, tenting my knickers once more. I was utterly horrified at the sight and once again couldn't help the tears streaming down my cheeks as I cried really hard, unstoppably so, rooted to the spot. 

"Good, very good." She seemed pleased at my predicament. "There are plenty of tissues in your room. I think you're going to need them both for your constant crying and... other things." With that I charged out of the room and tried to get out of the front door. It was locked. I tried another door, it was locked too. A window? Locked. I could hear Her laughter still ringing out from the living room and with it the futility of the situation dawning on me. After 5 defeating minutes trying exits I slinked back to my room. While there I did everything I could think of aside from masturbating again to get my erection to disappear but it wouldn't. If anything it just grew stronger, especially when I caught sight of myself in the mirror and felt all of these delicate fabrics against my skin. What was happening to me?