Mistress Psyche's Feminization Fantasies

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Sissy's Summer School

by Daphne

Chapter Four

Sinks, Suds, and French Lessons

That morning in the laundry, I learned how to rinse the lingerie well in cool water and squeeze each piece gently before spreading it across a towel-covered rack to dry. Later she taught me how to carefully fold each item and place it on top of her dresser for inspection. It was a chore I immediately enjoyed doing (even, I must admit, with Governess’s playful and erotic teasing), and Governess seemed pleased with my interest and effort in how to do it properly. She promised to subject me to a "lingerie bath" some day soon.

Later in the afternoon, Governess sat me at my writing desk on the porch and assigned me the task of writing a report in my journal about the special rise and shine scrubbing and clitty milking she’d given me that morning, reminding me to add a note about my fondness for the lingerie soap. While I was composing my report, the phone rang. Governess answered it in the kitchen, and from the porch I could hear some of her conversation.

"Oh, hello, Olivia. Yes, Daphne was quite impressed with our visit yesterday…you’re quite right, she does have much to learn. We’re making some progress on the hygiene, but she’s still far from being the perfect little lady she’s capable of being…why, yes, that would be just fine, what a wonderful idea. I’ll bring her by at 10 tomorrow and pick her up at 4. That’s perfect. I can take care of some business in the city while she’s with you…Oh, I think she’ll be delighted. She responded quite well to you and Marie. I’ll tell her as soon as I get off the phone. She’s out on the porch busy with her writing assignment. We have to keep her busy, or she’ll end up in trouble; you know how budding little girls can be. This morning I…"

Governess turned away and stepped around the corner out of the kitchen, so I couldn’t hear exactly what she said at the end of the conversation. But when I did catch the words "over the sink" and "milking," I felt a hot wave of embarrassment. It was intensified when I heard Governess laugh and distinctly add,

"Oh yes, and you should have seen her expression…"

Governess wandered back into the kitchen as she finished her exchange.

"I’ll have Daphne there at 10 all prim and polished. Goodbye, Olivia."

"That was Mademoiselle Olivia, Daphne. And she wants you to start your French lessons with her tomorrow. I’ll drop you off at 10 and pick you up a 4. You’ll learn so much from Mademoiselle Olivia. Aren’t you excited?"

I stared blankly at the pages I had been writing, suddenly not knowing how this plan really seemed to me.

"But Governess, won’t you be there with me?" I said with genuine concern in my voice.

"Oh no, my pet. I have to go to the city to take care of some business. Besides, you’ve met Mademoiselle Olivia and her assistant Marie. They’ll take good care of you. There’s nothing to worry about."

"But Governess, I want you to be with me – please?"

"So shy, my little sissy? You be a good girl and everything will be just fine. We need to broaden your sissy education, and this is a wonderful special opportunity to learn from a really cultured French lady. Now finish your report, and then we’ll get supper ready. No more discussion about tomorrow."

I finished the difficult task of putting on paper my first experience being milked at Governess’s hands. After supper I washed the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen in silence, all the while dwelling on the thought of going back to Mademoiselle Olivia’s without Governess.

"Daphne, come sit with me so we can review today’s writing assignment together. You’ve been awfully quiet all day, pet. Are you feeling alright?" Governess put her hand on my forehead gently.

"Yes, I’m alright I think, Governess."

"Well then, something must be on my little sissy’s mind, is that it?"

"Yes, Governess."

"About tomorrow, perhaps?"

"Uh-huh."

"It’s perfectly normal, Daphne, for young girls like you to get all jittery about doing new and unfamiliar things, but this is for your own good, sweetie. Trust your Governess. Now, let’s see what you wrote in your journal about this morning’s milking. Then we’ll give you a nice warm bubblebath before bedtime, so you’ll forget all about your worries."

The next morning when Governess took me into the bathroom for my morning cleansing ritual, she had already drawn a tubful of suds.

"But I just had a bath last night, Governess," I whined with early morning surliness.

"Do you want a sunrise bottom, young lady? If so, I can provide it right here and now. You’ll take as many baths as I say when I say, now off with that nightie." She swatted my bottom as the nightie came up over my head.

Laid out on a towel spread over the seat of the chair by the tub were the straight razor and a pink can of feminine shaving foam. If those weren’t enough changes to the routine I’d become accustomed to, there was a bottle of nail polish on the bathroom vanity, too. I got into the tub and passively let Governess soap me all over with a warm well-lathered bath mitt. I really didn’t want to start the day with a sore bottom so I yielded to her every direction obediently. When she got to my face, she paid extra attention to probing my nostrils and ears. "I’m not taking you to your first day of school with a dirty nose or ears." Following my shampoo with a strawberry-scented shampoo, she twisted a bathtowel around my wet hair and stood me up in the tub as she applied pink shaving foam all over my legs and all around my bottom and clitty. Governess shaved me carefully, not missing an inch of skin below my waist. Once I was rinsed and wrapped in a fluffy bathsheet, Governess sat me up on the edge of the vanity. She opened the bottle of nail polish and placed my right foot on a towel in her lap. I sat like a good girl as she painted each toenail with a soft shade of powder pink, then she took up my other foot and repeated the process.

Governess removed the towel form my hair and gave it a quick fluff with her blow dryer and a round styling brush. She powdered my bottom and between my legs with strawberry-scented dusting talc and helped me step into a pair of pastel mint green nylon panties, full-cut and hemmed with a narrow band of lace. She put me in a ribbed white cotton sleeveless top with lattice-edged neck and arm openings trimmed with pale green piping that matched my panties. Checking to be sure the polish on my toenails was dry, she pulled a pair of white anklet socks on my feet, and rolled down the cuffs so the mint green lace showed nicely. Governess handed me my pink chenille bathrobe and slippers and told me we’d finish my outfit after breakfast.

Sitting at the breakfast table, I felt quite awkward in the unfamiliar sensation of my new girlish lingerie under my bathrobe. When I finished washing the breakfast dishes, Governess took me back upstairs to put me in a pink blouse with puffy short sleeves (I noticed it buttoned the opposite way I was used to, and I noticed I could see my chemise showing through the sheer pink fabric), and a very short pleated skirt of mint green gingham checks. A pair of black and white saddle shoes completed my schoolgirl "uniform." I brushed my teeth, and while I was in front of the mirror, Governess brushed my hair one more time, pulling it all back off my forehead and clipping it in place with a pink barrette. She put two dabs of her own perfumed hand lotion on the tips of her fingers and drew them lightly from behind my ears along the sides of my throat and meeting under my chin. She kissed me on my mouth and told me I looked "adorable," then lifted my skirt and gave me a playful smack on my panties, hard enough to make it sting.

"Pink cheeks always look good on a schoolgirl," she laughed. "Time for my cutie to go to school for her first French lesson. Come on, sweetie. It’s raining out, so put on this yellow slicker. We don’t want to get your new school clothes all wet now, do we."

I obeyed quietly, even though I knew we wouldn’t be exposed to the rain the entire way to Mademoiselle Olivia’s. I was thankful to have some cover for my very girlish attire. Governess sensed my apprehensiveness and wrapped me in her arms and gave me a big warm hug.

"There, there, Daphne. You’ll be just fine, and tonight you can tell Governess all about it."

I followed Governess out to the garage and got in the front seat beside her. All the way to Mademoiselle Olivia’s, I stared at the blurry scenery through the rain-streaked windshield. Governess drove up the ramp to the indoor parking lot and walked me to the elevator up to Mademoiselle’s floor. I gave her a kiss on the cheek as she handed me over to Mademoiselle Olivia.

"Oh, she’s such a sweet girl! We’ll have fun together in school today, won’t we, Daphne. See you at 4."

Mademoiselle took my hand and turned me down the foyer toward her studio as Governess left. I was immediately aware of Mademoiselle’s perfume as she helped me out of my slicker and hung it in the hallway closet.

"Ooo, la la! Chere Daphne. Tres chique, ma petite jeune fille – quelle etudiante en belle mode! You are such a pretty girl today, dear Daphne. Marie! Come see our pretty new student."

During the time it took Marie to appear, I stood gaping at Mademoiselle Olivia. Today she seemed much more severe in her looks – she wore a cream satin blouse with mutton-leg sleeves and a long pointed collar open to reveal a hint of cleavage and the lace of her bra. Her ankle-length deep crimson skirt fastened up the front in a long row of tiny buttons. The bottom third of them were unbuttoned. Her narrow waist was clasped in a wide black leather belt, and she wore black high-button shoes with sturdy heels. Mademoiselle’s hair was piled on top of her head with long spiraling curls down the sides, making her long thin nose, high forehead, and pointed chin look even more strict and foreboding. Her lips were a deep crimson, but her eyes were made up sparsely, and her nails were perfectly manicured and polished to match her skirt and her lipstick.

Marie finally appeared wearing a very short black satin skirt and a black merriwidow covered with a pink ruffled vinyl apron. Her legs were bare, and she wore pink lace-trimmed anklet socks and a pair of thick heeled patent oxford shoes. Crowning her mass of strawberry blonde curls was a perky lace cap, giving her a mixed look of part little girl and part salon mistress.

"Oh oui, Mademoiselle! Elle est tres jolie," Marie observed enthusiastically.

Mademoiselle held me close to her, stroked my hair, and sniffed it.

"Oui, and so sweet and soft Daphne’s hair is. I see Daphne had a nice strawberry shampoo this morning. Her Governess keeps her so clean and well-groomed. Now Daphne, you run along with Miss Marie, and she’ll prepare you for today’s lessons."

"Alons, viens tu avec moi – come with me, Daphne," Marie ordered – taking me firmly by the wrist. She led me to the bathroom I’d seen on my earlier visit.

"Undress please, Daphne. Take off everything you are wearing."

"But, Miss Marie, I thought this…"

"Silence, ma petite. Just do as I say. Miss Marie knows best how Mademoiselle wants her little girls prepared for their lessons."

I undressed haltingly, blushing deeply at exposing myself in front of this unfamiliar young woman.

"oh bien, you are nicely shaved – and such pretty pink toenails. Mademoiselle will like that. Now, over here and do your little girl tinkles on the potty for Miss Marie. There you go. It’s just we girls, so you can pee-pee in front of me."

I was reluctant, but my nervousness made me go. When I’d finished, a warm stream of water spurted up over my bottom and clitty. I jumped and yelped.

"Oh silly Daphne. It’s just a French bidet. You’ll learn. It’s to help make you all clean."

Miss Marie leaned over with a bar of soap and a washcloth and scrubbed thoroughly between my legs, the pressed a lever and another stream of warm water squirted between my legs. Miss Marie dried me with a smooth linen towel, then led me to the sink, where she washed my face and hands.

Once she’d finished cleaning me up, she led me into the next room. Mademoiselle was seated in a high-backed wicker chair and smiled when she saw me enter naked.

"Did Daphne do her tinkles nicely, Marie? And did you show her how our bidet works?"

"Oui, Mademoiselle."

"Isn’t that a nice way to keep little sissy girls fresh and clean, Daphne? We do like our little girls fresh and clean. I know your Governess is working hard on teaching you good hygiene, and we’re going to do our part to help her. Little girls should always be fresh and clean, hands and face and everywhere else – hee-hee – you understand."

"Yes, Mademoiselle."

"Oh, chere Daphne – en francais s’il vous plait. Il faut dire, ‘oui, Mademoiselle.’ You must speak French, Daphne – say, ‘Oui, Mademoiselle.’"

"Oui, Mademoiselle."

"Oh, merveilleux, Daphne. Bien."

"Now I see you have such pretty pink toes – such a perfect color for a young girl. That’s how I like my little girls, all scrubbed and polished pink from head to toe. Marie, it’s time now to dress Daphne for her lessons."

From then until 4 that afternoon, my day was one of long suffering. At 3:45 Mademoiselle finished my first lesson and left me with Marie to prepare me to go home, while Mademoiselle went to her office to write up my report and homework assignment. Marie had me back in the clothes I wore that morning by the time Governess arrived. Mademoiselle greeted her again.

"Well, how was Daphne’s first day of French school?"

"Oh, she did very well, once we got her to settle down and pay attention. She likes to daydream a bit, but she got better with our instruction and help. I’m sure she’ll advance quite well as her lessons continue. I’ve written a short summary of today’s progress for your records, and some drills for Daphne to practice for next week."

"Wonderful. I’ll make sure she gets plenty of practice time at home. Thank you so much, Olivia. Daphne, thank Mademoiselle nicely and we’ll be on our way."

I did a stiff abbreviated curtsey and said, "Mercie, Mademoiselle." The women all laughed.

"Oh, very good, Daphne. We worked on manners today, but your curtsey needs much improvement. We’ll work on that some more next time. So, a semaine prochaine, see you next week. Au revoir."

When I got in the car, Governess leaned over and sniffed behind my ear.

"Oh my, don’t you smell like a little lady. Did Mademoiselle let you wear some French perfume?"

"No," I replied gloomily, staring at the dashboard with a pout on my lip.

"Well, that’s not how you smelled when I left you this morning, Daphne. How did you get that pretty new scent, then?"

"Marie did it. She pushed my face into a sinkful of soapsuds."

"Oh, and why did she do that, Daphne? Were you naughty?"

"I don’t want to talk about it," I sulked.

"My my, aren’t we in a bit of a mood now. Very well. We’ll wait until we get home to continue this discussion."

Once we got home, Governess took me directly to my room and undressed me. When she got my panties off, she laughed.

"Well, look at your pink little bottom. I’ll bet Mademoiselle put you over her knee for a spanking again, didn’t she. She does love spanking sweet sissy bottoms. Oh, and what have we here besides that pretty glow – a few little welts. Well now, young lady, you’d better start giving me all the details, or I’ll add to those. You go kneel on your little pink rug."

She sat in the chair by my bed, and I knelt on the small pink rug in front of her – the place she had taught me to take whenever it was time to confess something to her. I looked up at Governess’s eyes and started to cry.

"Oh please, Governess, don’t make me go back to Mademoiselle’s. Please."

"There now, Daphne. You just tell me all about it. I’m sure you’ll get used to Mademoiselle’s ways. As I told you, it’s good discipline for your benefit. There’s no question about whether you will go back. Now suppose you tell me what happened."

"Well, as soon as Marie took me to go potty and washed me up, she brought me to Mademoiselle to dress me up for my lessons. I was completely naked and they made me stand in front of Mademoiselle where she sat in her big high-backed wicker chair. Marie had two lengths of pink satin ribbon edged in white lace. She tied one as a sash around my waist in a big floppy bow in the back, so the ends dangled over my bottom. Then she folded the other piece of lacy ribbon over the sash bow in back and brought the two ends of it down between my cheeks and under my legs. In front she crossed the two ends under my balls and over the top of my clitty and tied them together in another big bow to the front of the sash. All the time Mademoiselle was holding my clitty – she said to "keep it out of the way," so Marie could make me as pretty as a bare-bottomed girl could be. The lace was real stiff and itchy, and she made it really tight, so my clitty and balls were like in a harness."

"Then Marie came over with a corsellette – pink and laced up the back. She put it on me and laced it up so tight I could hardly breathe. Mademoiselle said it would keep my posture correct and that would help me say the French words better. The corsellette pushed my titties up, and Mademoiselle kept pinching my nipples and saying, "Oh, these are sooo cute. I just love sissy nipples, don’t you Marie?"

They made me wear some open-toed platform shoes "so they could enjoy my pretty pink pedicure," they said. Then they took me into the classroom – a small room with a teacher’s desk, a chalkboard, and one tall stool. They made me sit on that, then Marie left the room and Mademoiselle started writing a lot of French words on the board. She took out a box of stuff and made me say which each thing was from the list on the board. It was things like bathroom stuff, you know – like soap, shampoo, bubblebath, a hairbrush, hair ribbons, a bath bonnet – stuff like that. Then she handed me a Barbie doll that was all dressed up in fancy clothes. She made me start undressing the doll and learning to say the French for each thing I took off -–she had those words listed on the board, too – brassiere, panties, garter belt, stockings, camisole. After that, Mademoiselle made me point to different parts of Barbie’s body, and she’ point to the names in French on the board. Then I’d have to say the French names."

"I began to get confused, so she called Marie to come and take me out for a potty break. Marie made me use the bidet again – after I got all untied with the harness – and then she had to tie me all up again and take me back to the classroom."

"Next Mademoiselle gave me a pronunciation drill. She said words, and I had to repeat them – over and over, right after her, and faster and faster. I was having trouble rolling my "R"s. I kept telling Mademoiselle I couldn’t do it, and she just said I wasn’t trying hard enough, and that I could do it if I tried. Finally, she rang her little bell for Marie again."

‘Take Daphne to the bathroom for a practice drill at the sink with her "R"s. She’s having trouble rolling them. I think a little bubble-blowing exercise will help her catch on more quickly.’

Oui, Mademoiselle. Daphne, viens tu avec moi dans la salle de bains!’

"Marie filled the sink with warm water and some scented liquid soap. She put her hand in the sink and swished her fingers back and forth very fast and made a big pile of foamy suds. Then she pulled me in front of the sink and told me she wanted to hear some nice "R"s rolling off my tongue. ‘I’ll know you’re doing it right when I see you making lots of nice big bubbles. Now, down you go and let’s see how you can do, Daphne.’"

"She pushed my face right into the suds and held me there. I tried doing the "R"s – rrrrrrrrrrrr… but got off track and tried to breathe in. I got suds up my nose and started sneezing and choking. She pulled my head up, wiped my mouth and nose with a towel, and made me try again. I made more "R"s until I ran out of breath. Marie lifted my head by my hair and one ear. ‘Good, Daphne. That was quite good. Tres bien. Encore maintenant, encore. Again now, do it again.’ She pushed me back down. After another string of "R"s bubbled off my tongue – ‘Very good, honey. I think you’re getting it. Let’s see some more pretty bubbles. Make your tongue really roll.’ She rolled her own "R"s for effect, then submerged my face again. ‘Keep going – breathe deeply – and back down you go. Oh that’s wonderful, Daphne – encore, do it again for me. Down into the pretty bubbles, more, more, Daphne. Oh, good girl! I think we’re ready to call Mademoiselle to show her how well you’ve done.’"

"After Mademoiselle came into the bathroom and watched while Marie made me demonstrate my new bubbleblowing skills, she applauded my progress and they dried me off before we stopped for lunch. I wasn’t much interested in eating anything at that point, but politely sipped some broth and nibbled at my crackers. Everything tasted like perfumed soapsuds. When lunch was over, Marie took me back into the bathroom to put me on the potty again, and then washed my face and hands. She made me lie down on a cot and covered me with a soft pink blanket and told me I had to take a nap for an hour."

"The afternoon lessons continued in Mademoiselle’s classroom. She began drilling me on the words I was supposed to have learned in the morning. I had trouble remembering all of them. Then Mademoiselle switched to a lesson on manners. She taught me how to sit like a lady, and then gave me a long lesson on how to curtsey. She made me do it over and over again, and each time, she hit me with her riding crop on my bottom and the backs of my thighs, just to make me pay attention and do it right. I was trying, Governess, and she wouldn’t even give me a chance before she’d slap me again with her crop," I sobbed.

"There, there, now, Daphne. You don’t need to get yourself all worked up about it. Mademoiselle was just doing what was best for you. I’ll bet you can do a really cute curtsey now if you try. And those are such sweet darling welts she gave you. Let’s see a nice curtsey. Show me how well you can do them now that you’ve had a good lesson from the best teacher a little sissy could have."

I stood on the tiny pink rug and curtsied deeply and blushed. Governess applauded, then gave me a hug. She ran her hand over the welts on the backs of my thighs once more. "Such pretty marks. They show you have been to school. Now come show me how Marie taught you to blow bubbles. You need to practice before bedtime." My heart sank at the prospect of having to have my face pushed down into a sinkful of suds again. She took me by the hand and led me to the bathroom sink. There was a bottle of the same scented liquid soap Marie had used, and Governess poured it into the running hot water. "Marie gave me this supply so we could use it for your homework. I thought it would be good to make the homework just like your lessons at Mademoiselle Olivia’s. Now bend right over and show me how well you can say your "R"s. Let’s see how big you can make the pile of suds grow. That’s my girl. Oh, and you smell so nice, you’ll have sexy French dreams. Ha ha ha."

I wasn’t so sure I liked the way Governess made me do my homework, but it did feel good when she cradled my face in a soft towel between her hands and gently wiped it dry. To my surprise, she pulled me towards her face and gave me a long wet kiss fully on my mouth. It was so nice, tears filled my eyes, and I melted into Governess’s soft arms. She was strong enough to lift me off my feet and carry me back into the bedroom and lay me on the bed. Her warm hands kept grazing my skin as she put me in my frilly sissy panties and nightgown for bedtime. I was dizzy with the fatigue of a long day and the smoldering ache Governess knew she was provoking in me. She smiled when she leaned over to kiss me one more time before turning out the light. She smoothed the stray lock of hair off my forehead, and whispered in my ear, "Tomorrow we’ll go for your beauty salon appointment and make that hair look so pretty. Good night my sweet sissy pet. Be a good girl in your dreams."

I woke the next morning with my clitty harder than ever, remembering how Governess teased me the night before with the possibility of giving my clitty some extra sudsy attention this morning. I rolled over and wiggled my hips against the pink gingham sheets. No sooner has I started to enjoy the nice feeling of pressing my clitty rhythmically into the warm mattress, than Governess was beside my bed.

"Oh ho, I see our little sissy is exercising her clitty before she even gets out of bed. Is that naughty clitty all hard and pink, Daphne?"

"Yes, Governess."

"Well now, it must be getting impatient for your Governess to give it that extra special rise and shine scrubbing. It knows it has an appointment for a morning milking, doesn’t it, young lady."

"Yes, Governess."

"Very well. Out of bed you go. Come come. I’ve got a nice sinkful of warm soapsuds all ready and waiting in the bathroom for your clitty , my little Miss Behaver."

I turned back and saw Governess standing there already wearing her rubber apron and gloves, with her hair tucked under a thick fluffy pink and white striped towel wrapped like an elegant turban. It was clear that she had been preparing for exactly what she promised. She was obviously ready for the business of washing. Her shiny wet rubber gloves dotted with gobs of suds, the long shimmering rubber apron that molded to her form, and her towering turban gave her an exotic clinical look. She beckoned me with a gloved finger dripping with foamy bubbles and smiled. I cowered under the covers.

"Right this way, my dear. Follow me right straight into the bathroom. And bring that naughty clitty along, too. You’ll rise and shine so clean and pretty after the thorough scrubbing I’m going to give it. A brisk frothy morning milking is just what will wake you up and open those sleepy eyes."

She took me by the elbow with her slippery glove. I t made me blush the way she spoke to me in such a childish tone. The sink was indeed full of steamy rich suds. Warm vapors rising from the sink fogged the edges of the mirror, and the smell of Governess’s soap penetrated my nostrils strongly enough to make my clitty even firmer. I hated when it made me do that, but I was helpless to prevent the response. There was a thick pink washcloth on the edge of the vanity and a short-handled pink bathbrush. I raised my arms as Governess lifted my nightie over my head. Then I stepped out of my sissy panties as she lowered them down my legs.

Governess placed the bathroom chair in front of the sink and told me to climb up and kneel over the sink – one knee on each side so my crotch was spread nice and wide.

"Touch your shoulders with your ring and middle fingers, Daphne, and don’t move them – unless you’d like me to turn that bottom of yours into a fireball like the rising sun."

She scooped hot sudsy water with the washcloth and began dousing me between my parted thighs. The heat made my clitty throb deliciously as I struggle to get fully awake and focus on the sensations. She ran the tip of her gloved index finger lightly over the length of my clitty, grasped it firmly in one hand, and twirled her soapy fingertip around my clitty’s pink head as it peaked out of her firm grip eager for her caressing. It shed a pearly tear of joy that melted into the swirl of bubbles her finger made, as if to take one last look before it was about to be blinded by clouds of sultry impenetrable lather. She clutched my balls and hauled them slowly down toward to warm suds. After several minutes of this playful soapy teasing, she reached under the suds for a well-softened cake of fragrant pink soap, which she applied all over the front and back of my crotch – quite thoroughly.

"Now you just watch what Governess is going to do to your sweet sissy clitty," she said as our eyes met in the hazy mirror. That was just how I was feeling – kind of hazy and in another world at the moment, nice but not sure where I was headed (or where Governess was taking me). "I’m going to scrub it until it cries more pretty little tears and then spits out all that sissy juice inside." She gave my balls a firm tug. "These soapsuds will get your clitty all cleaned out and drained. You’ll see, my darling."

She took the brush and started at my bottom, then scrubbed her way in tiny advances up between my legs to the underside of my balls and clitty, which was most alert and attentive to the sudden attention it was receiving by now. She scrubbed its tender underside in short brisk strokes, holding it steady with her fingers firmly grasping the tip. She closed her fist around my clitty and scrubbed the exposed tip with a playful back-and-forth dance. I didn’t think it was so playful, nor did I feel like doing Governess’s dance. "Oooo, ouch! Ahh!" I struggled to stay still and keep my fingers in their dainty position, especially when she tortured me with the slick round end of the soap in the tender spot right between my balls and anus.

Before long I began rocking on my knees and swaying my hips (I was succumbing to her dance rhythm finally) and puffing short little bursts of air through my lips as Governess found the most sensitive places with her sudsy brush. Huge mounds of warm lather plopped off my clitty and into the sink and tickled as they rolled down the insides of my thighs. Governess saw me begin to slide quickly into sensations and responses beyond my control. I groaned and yipped at every touch. She covered my clitty with the soapy washcloth and clamped her hand around it while moving the brush down behind my bottom. Rapidly scooping hot suds up from the sink and brushing them against my crack, Governess pumped my clitty roughly in the tight squishy sheath of the hot soapy washcloth.

Never before had I come any other way than by my own hand. The prospect that Governess was about to do it for me was too embarrassing to imagine. I wanted her to stop. I cried and pleaded. "Oh, Governess, please stop. Please don’t make me…" I couldn’t say it.

"Don’t make you what, Daphne? Make you squirt your sissy juice for me? Oh Daphne my dear, I thought you liked doing this. Isn’t this what you do when you’re alone?"

"Uh…um…o yes-ss-s, Governess, but I d-don’t want to n-now. Please stop, please! Not so hard, ooooh, that hurts…"

"Don’t be silly, Daphne. It’s not hurting you, you little sissy. This is for your own god. Besides, it’s what I insist on making you do for me. I love to watch little sissies loose control and come for me. And I love making you squeal and whimper and cry. I’m going to milk every gooey drop of sissy juice out of you, and I’m going to do it just the way I please. So you keep on with your silly protests and give me a nice big squirt. Come on, I want all of that sissy juice out – NOW! Daphne. Come for your Governess like a good sissy girl. I want to hear my sissy come."

Just as I gasped and was about to shoot my overdue load into her frothy milking manipulations, Governess gave my bottom a half dozen sharp spanks with the back of her nasty little brush, then drove the bristles hard against my tender anus and scrubbed furiously. My head flew back, and I cried out as I arched my back and clenched my cheeks against the driving brush. My clitty erupted from base to tip like a fiery volcano. I could feel the heat of my squirting searing its way to daylight. Governess’s milking motions overwhelmed me as I surrendered to her undeniable force. I trembled as successive spasms shook me from head to toe. She never let up a second as she continued to exert her will and control, exercising my clitty in her soapy clutches and spurring me beyond my own explosion with her brush plowing relentlessly between my cheeks.

Never in my own handy shower games had I ever gone beyond that fleeting moment of release. Governess asserted her control despite my cries of "Enough, please stop – oh, please. I can’t stand it. Stop please, Governess." I thought she was going to turn me inside out like a well-washed sock and make me come until my balls came out through my clitty-hole.

I was sobbing and pleading with my eyes shut tightly when I felt her suds-smothered glove grasp my face with her fingers and thumb spanning my lower jaw. I suddenly realized she’d stopped. I opened my eyes and looked in the mirror to see her raising the suds-drenched washcloth toward my face. With horror I noticed as it got closer that the suds glistened with the pearly product of my milking.

"Open wide, Daphne. Sissy-pusses always get a good taste of their own naughty dribbles, and sissy-pusses love warm cream. Mmmmmm, wider, honey. In it goes. Now you thank your Governess nicely for your clitty’s special rise and shine scrubbing."

"Thank you, Governess, for my clitty’s special rise and shine scrubbing," I said apprehensively.

"Yes, such a naughty clitty – all hard and pink for her Governess, but we’ve got her all scrubbed and milked now don’t we. In we go, a creamy breakfast treat for Daphne, now that we have your clitty so nice and clean. Doesn’t that feel all better now, Pussycat? And don’t you love the warm rich taste. Oh so yummmy!"

She stuffed the whole sudsy washcloth into my mouth, using her grip to leverage and hold my jaws wide open. I strained not to gag on either the soapy taste deep in the back of my mouth or the unfamiliar thick heat of my own juices forced past my lips. Governess picked up the bathbrush and proceeded to give me another two dozen spanks with it before rinsing me off, letting me spit once in the sink, and helping me down off the vanity. Only then did we proceed with the usual morning routine of washing my hands, face, and sissy panties. Governess massaged my clitty and bottom with some pink baby lotion before she dressed me in a floral print romper with ruffly leg openings.

After breakfast, Governess took me down to the basement again for my laundry chores and a lesson on handwashing her lingerie. She outfitted me in a short terry apron and a white ruffled maid’s cap trimmed with lace that drooped over my eyes when I leaned forward. First, she showed me how to fill the laundry tub with warm water and special gentle lingerie soap, and how to swish it into a sinkful of big sparkling bubbles with my fingers. The special soap had a very feminine fragrance and made the water feel like silk. She handed me a nightgown, a slip, and several of her panties and bras, instructing me how to delicately squeeze warm sudsy water through each garment.

While I was occupied on following her instructions intently, Governess came up behind me and grabbed my right nipple between her finger and thumb right through the romper and squeezed. I yelped in pain. She gave my nipple a couple of more mild twists. "Gotcha! Oh, poor Daphne, such a sensitive little sissy. You’ve been so quiet and subdued all morning since your milking. Did your Governess wear out her pretty little plaything? I just wanted to liven you up a little and see if I could get a reaction." I looked at her out from under the lace, made a little girl pout with my lips, and returned to my lingerie washing task after letting out a slow sigh. Governess was clearly in the mood to play. She slid her hand down over my crotch and grabbed my swelling clitty. "Oh you can protest all you want about your poor tender nipple, but I can see you really like that. Don’t you." She shook my clitty roughly, which only made it harder. "Don’t you, young lady, you little sudsy trollop."

"Yes, Governess," I murmured, careful not to let my voice reveal the rising excitement from her fondling and teasing name-calling.

"Yes, what, Daphne?"

"Yes, I like it when you play with my nipples, Governess."

"Oh. You mean like this?"

"Yes, Governess."

And I k n o w you like playing with my lingerie in all those nice warm soapsuds, don’t you."

"Yes, Governess."

"Well, I’ll remember that and have you write it down in your journal later. Sometime when you’re laundering my lingerie, I’ll surprise you and put your saucy little pink clitty in the suds and give it a bath right along with all the pretty lingerie. Wouldn’t that be fun, Daphne, to have me play with your clitty in a warm sinkful of sudsy lingerie? And maybe I’d feel especially wicked and make you put all that sudsy lingerie on and do a little sexy bubble dance in it for me and watch you get all hard and excited before making you take it all off one piece at a time. And then I’d make you play with your soapy slippery little clitty in front of me until you’d cry for permission to let you make yourself squirt. Oh, I think that would be very entertaining to watch you do that for me. Just look how hard you’ve gotten thinking about it. Shame on you." I couldn’t help squiggling my hips, and bit my lower lip so I wouldn’t put my hand to my crotch. Governess swished the sudsy water in the wash basin, letting her hand whisk over mine. Then she snaked her dripping hand up under the leg of my rompers until she had me firmly back in hand. The warm silky wet feeling and strength of her grip made me close my eyes in ecstacy. Then I opened my eyes abruptly when she puled the romper legs up tight between my cheeks with her other hand and smacked my bared flesh a dozen times. Finally she laughed at my helpless arousal and allowed me to go back to my chore.

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