Mistress Psyche's Feminization Fantasies


Sissy Girl Stories


Rosie the Sissy – Part Four

By Beverly Taff

List of characters

Me Robert
Wendy My twin sister
Angela Our younger half sister by my mother’s second boyfriend
Doris My drippy mother who lets everybody walk all over her
Aunty Janet My mother’s pushy domineering sister.
Harriet Our friend from the next farm
Aunty Margaret Harriet’s Mother
Jessica Harriet’s older sister

After completing high school, we spent the summer vacation exercising our horses ready for an important national show.  One early morning as the dew lay heavy I was setting my horse to one of the more difficult jumps. Unfortunately, my horse slipped on the soaking grass and was riding bareback. I always liked the sensations of having a powerful body between my thighs and this morning was no exception. With nothing to hold onto, I flew off Apple’s back as she threw me hard against the bars.  I landed hard astride the poles and completely crushed my erect pee-pee. My screams alerted Harriet, Wendy and Aunty Janet who were preparing the horsebox ready to attend the show. I was not competing, so I had taken my horse out for an early round of exercise ready to leave him in the paddock whilst Wendy and Harriet got theirs ready to compete. I was going to the show purely as a ‘groom’ and ‘Girl Friday’.

After getting Wendy and Harriet ready to compete, the rest of my day would have been spent at the show visiting the displays and generally enjoying myself.  Now I found myself in agony whilst being driven to hospital by Aunty Janet.  Aunty Margaret had to pitch in and help Harriet and Wendy.

The news for me was not good.  As I lay in bed totally zonked by painkillers the doctor explained the situation to Aunty Janet while I faded in and out of consciousness.

“How long has he been a transsexual?”  Demanded the doctor accusatively.

“That’s a naive question doctor,” replied a surprised Aunty Janet, “she’s been a transsexual all her life.”

“Well, ahem yes,” spluttered the doctor surprised that somebody should have the temerity to stand up to him. “What I meant was, when did the condition become apparent and who was treating him for it.”

“Her.” Corrected Janet.  “She thinks of herself as a girl and as you can see, she lives as a girl.”

“Oh er, yes. Sorry. All right then, how long has she been living as a girl.”

“That’s better.  Since she was about eleven.” Replied Janet, matter-of-factly.

“Uhm I see. That’s not normal.  We usually only start treatment after eighteen.”

“In this country yes.  Other doctors have more sympathetic and advanced view. Eighteen is far too late.   An individual’s body is already developed into the wrong shape. 

As you can see, Rosie’s body is a perfect shape for her chosen life style. By starting treatment at eleven, she has grown up and functioned as a girl for all the time that it has really mattered.”

The doctor realised that he was getting out of his depth. My condition was already far past the norms that he was used to deal with.  He changed tack.

            “Well I was going to ask if she was considering SRS but it seems superfluous now.”

“Is the damage that bad?”  Asked Janet.

“Well, firstly the pubic bone was broken and that has had to be reset slightly apart. It means her pelvis is slightly wider at the front and her legs are now ‘toed out’ slightly.  She will walk like a ballet dancer unless we can correct it by breaking her femurs and resetting them with the knees and feet pointing ahead.  That will exaggerate her hip swaying and make her walk with an accentuated wiggle.   However, if she is living as a girl that may not be a bad thing.  Her testicles are unharmed but the scrotum is torn. Her testicles will have to be relocated inside her abdomen. It will mean less viable sperm but it will still be possible to make babies. The vascular tissue inside the penis is totally crushed and she will never get a proper erection again. She must have had an erection when she crunched her pubis against the pole.   Indeed, now she might even be in great pain if she gets an erection at the moment.  I’ve put her on painkillers for now to prevent any sensations. Is she sexually active.”

“Well she’s got a partner.” Replied Janet

“And do you think he’ll be sympathetic?”

“I think she will be sympathetic and very supportive.” Corrected Janet again.

“She?” Gasped the doctor.

“Yes. Rosie is a heterosexual shemale. Her sexual partner is a true woman. They are deeply attached and I think they will surmount any obstacles.”

The doctor could think of little else to say His main understanding of sexual activity was mostly, the penetration of an orifice with a penis.  The fact that I would probably never be able to indulge in this method again, left the doctor with no answers. He tried one last stab.

“Would she consider SRS now?”

“Well have to wait until she and her partner have discussed it.   As I remember, they planned to marry and raise a family.  Anyway, I shouldn’t be answering these questions. She should.”

“Yes of course, but she appears so young.”

“It’s been her life so far and she’s made her own decisions.”

Aunty Janet wasn’t being totally honest but the doctor was not to know that.  The consultation ended and I was left to get on with recovering.

Later that evening Harriet and Wendy appeared with my mother and Aunty Margaret. I had woken up that afternoon and the doctor had had a long chat with me.   My groin was smothered in bandages and the pain had eased but the news was bad.  I explained the situation to my friends and family.

“You mean you’ll walk with a bigger wiggle,” giggled Wendy.

I frowned impatiently. Despite my girly life, I was still a better runner than Wendy and when I chased her, I always caught her and tickled her.

“Never mind the walk,” interrupted Harriet, “what about your erections?”

“He says no.  The damage is too extensive.”

“What never?”  Begged Harriet as a tear leaked into her eye.

I nodded silently. The shock was just too great.

Several days later, the bandages came off and I was left to contemplate the damage.  Where once had been my beloved penis, there was now only a mangled shapeless lump of bruised flesh.  For several days I lay wondering when or if I would get any urges but the damage was so great that nothing seemed to work.  All I seemed capable of was peeing into the special adult sized nappies that the hospital supplied.  Eventually, my pubic bone had knitted properly and I left the hospital glad to be free of the nappies. I was glad to be returning home to try and get on with my life.  I was thankful to be wearing proper frilly panties and a silky dress as I walked along the hospital corridor. The weird thing was my walk.  I had not yet had the corrective surgery and I walked with my toes pointed out like a trainee ballerina.

Mum smiled as she watched my progress.

“You’ll have to wear a tutu, or people will think your showing off.”

I glared at her and waddled off like an angry duck, which only made everybody laugh.

Furious, I scrambled awkwardly into the Land rover and sulked all the way home.

As I arrived home, Harriet took me to the bedroom and gave me a sympathetic hug, which I had turned to reciprocate. As our breasts met I felt the old familiar tingle surge down to my crumpled pee-pee and a strange twisting sensation as my pee-pee seemed to somehow curl and spread inside my panties.

“Wha -? Oooh! What’s happening?” I gasped.

“What’s wrong?” Cried Harriet.

“I don’t know, it’s my pee-pee!  It’s doing something!”

My hopes rose as I imagined an erection once more rising from my loins but I was to be bitterly disappointed.

Urgently I whipped my panties down and Harriet gasped.  My pee-pee was still sort of churning away and I peered over my breasts to see what she was seeing.

“Oh my God!  What’s it doing?” She gasped.

“What!” I gasped nervously.

“It, - It’s all twisted and kind of curly! It’s sort of spreading, like a flower, - like a rose bud opening!”

Once I had lifted my boobs out of the way I could see what Harriet meant.  Where once there had been a hard stiff erect pee-pee, there was now a deformed floret of twisted flesh. My pee-pee felt hard and it seemed to have all the sensations of a raging erection. The only problem was that instead of an erection, there was an ugly, bruised ball of tattered flesh. If this was the final condition, then Harriet and I would never be able to screw properly again.  I let out a devastated moan as Harriet bent down to continue staring, mesmerised at the ghastly blue and black obscenity. 

She looked up at me as tears started to glisten in her eyes. This set me off and we ended up lying on the bed simply hugging each other and sobbing softly. Our sobs attracted Aunty Janet and she knocked gently on the bedroom door.

“Are you OK?”

Harriet mumbled a soft ‘No’.

Janet hesitated then asked to come in.

“OK.” I groaned. “You may as well see it.”

Aunty Janet had just finished work and she was wearing a smart black, silk two-piece suit with a pretty blouse and beautiful multicoloured scarf.  She entered to find me naked from the waist down and Harriet lying dressed beside me. This did not shock her.  Harriet and I were adults now and everybody recognised we were in a relationship.

“What’s wrong?” She asked as she peeped discreetly over Harriet’s butt to study my groin.

Harriet rolled away and Janet got a good look at the strange development in my groin.

“Oh my God! Why, it, - it looks like a black and blue rosette.”

“Tell me about it.” I groaned.

“But it was only a little ball earlier.  Why has it swollen like that?”

            “I think she’s having an erection!” Explained Harriet.

“A What!”  Squeaked Aunty Janet.

“An erection,” I added, “ Harriet kissed me and my pee-pee kind of twisted around then uncurled to look like this.  It kind of feels like an erection.”

“Good God! Is it painful?”

“Yes. A bit, but I think that’s the bruising.  It’s a lot less painful than in hospital.”

Aunty Janet bent forward and frowned.

“Can I touch it?”

“I’d prefer for Harriet to touch it.”

Aunty Janet harrumphed irritably then motioned to Harriet. Harriet furrowed her brow nervously.

“Will it hurt her?”

“Well we won’t know until you’ve touched her, will we?"

This obvious logic made Harriet giggle.  It had been a stupid question and she was a little embarrassed by her own stupidity. Cautiously, she extended her fingers and gently touched the innermost tiny purplish bud of the floret.

“Ooh!” I jerked lasciviously. “That’s nice. You just touched my bell end.”

Harriet smiled as we both recognised at least one definitive part of what had once been my pee-pee.  Then she hesitated.

“It’s much smaller than your bell end was.  Can you still feel that bit?”

“Yes.”  I replied as I sat up to investigate the new developments.  “It seems to have regained sensation.  I can feel more stuff inside. It still feels like an erection.”

“Well it hardly looks like one,” smiled Aunty Janet.

My own eager fingers delved into the floret and tested the first ring of tattered flesh around the bud. I jerked lasciviously again at my own clumsiness.

“Oooohh!  That felt like bits of my bell end and my foreskin!”

Both Aunty Janet and Harriet moved closer to inspect the floret then Janet smiled as she delicately touched another piece of loose flesh.

“Well that seems logical, what about this little petal here?” 

“Ooohh. That feels like my fraenum. Mmmm.  That’s really nice.”

As I said this, Aunty Janet continued gently fingering this single piece of tattered flesh.  The sensations became unbearably delicious and I couldn’t resist humping against Aunty Janet’s hand.  Suddenly I felt the old familiar urges rising in my loins.

“I’m gonna, - I’m gonna’ -! Aaaah! Oooohh! The pressure, it’s tight,  Oooo-oooh!”

And with that, a spray of seed spurted like a watering can from the various perforations in my pee-pee.”  Harriet and Aunty Janet squealed with surprise as I continued humping and spurting.

“Oh my God.  It’s like a garden spray.”  Screeched Harriet as my seed sprayed over her and Janet.

“Damn!”  Cursed Aunty Janet.   “There goes one of my best suits.”

“I’m sorry.” I wailed.  “ I couldn’t help it. It just kind of sprays everywhere.”

“You don’t have to tell us young lady.  Just look at my skirt and blouse, not to mention the jacket!”

“I’ll pay to have it clean, - aah!  It’s shrinking. Ooooh. That feels funny.”

As I squirmed again, the floret started to close like a dandelion in the evening.Aunty Janet and Harriet stared at it mesmerised until finally, there was nothing left but a tiny bluish bud were normally there would have been a sensitive tube of flesh.

“Is that its normal condition?” Asked Aunty Janet.

“Yes, I think so. It seems a bit smaller than before though.   As though some of the bruising and swelling has gone.”

“It’s smaller than my clitty!” Giggled Harriet.

“Never mind that,” scolded Aunty Janet as she turned to me again.  “Can you pee?”

“Eh.  I’ve been peeing like a girl into a nappy in hospital.  I’ve never tried to pee standing up because until now, it was too bruised and sore.”

“Well, you’d better try. You usually need to pee after sex don’t you?”

I nodded as I tugged up my knickers and waddled to the bathroom.

Aunty watched me walk down the hall and suppressed her giggle until I was out of earshot. She then whispered to Harriet.

“Just look at that waddle. We’ll have to change her name to Jemima Puddle Duck.”

Harriet snorted as she suppressed her laugh and I turned suspiciously as I tried to hear what they were saying about me.

“What’s wrong?” I demanded.

“We were wondering if you wanted help?” Replied Harriet, thinking quickly.

“I never did before.  I’ll call you if I do.”

So saying, I tugged my panties to my knees then tried to point my little bud towards the lavatory. The whole process was reduced to farce.

I stood as any boy would and ‘let go’ but nothing happened! Nervously, I ‘squeezed’ my prostate gland harder again until I felt a slight build up in my waterworks. Firstly I felt the pressure increasing until my pee-pee seemed ready to explode, then the ‘floret’ started to open like a flower until I felt relief as my pee started to flow down my urethra. Suddenly it sprayed out exactly as my seed had done. As I realised my urine was spraying all over my legs, feet, panties, the lavatory pan and the floor, I let out a squeal of disappointment.  I span around as quickly as I could and plonked my butt down on the pan, which was already soaked with my own splashed pee. My squeal alerted Harriet and Janet who entered the bathroom as I continued to relieve myself uncontrollably.

The surrounding mess obviated my accident and I sat there glued to the pan.

“What happened?” Gasped Harriet.

“It’s my pee. It sprays just like my come.  My pee-pee is like a garden spray.”

 My tearful face was crimson with shame, as Janet and Harriet fussed around me. I had been reduced to the final indignity of girlhood insofar as I would always in future, have to sit to pee. Indeed, I would always have to sit on a pan and lean forward to make sure the spray was directed downwards. For my floret tended to point slightly upward and forward as my erect pee-pee had once done.  This slightly forward direction meant that I was even more constrained than an ordinary girl.  Instead of a simple, single, downward pointing stream, my pee sprayed out over my feet, my ankles, my knees, my thighs and even my butt; not to mention any panties shoes or tights I might have tugged down before squatting.  Short of removing my panties, shoes and stockings completely, I would always have to use a pan.

Furthermore, the mess of pee left dripping from the ‘ frilly petals’ of my floret, meant I would always have to wash myself after peeing.  I had been reduced to an indoor girl, always needing a proper bathroom with proper washing facilities and a bidet to wash myself after every visit.


There would be no more quick visits behind a bush when out riding with Harriet and Wendy; that is, not unless I carried copious tissues and panty liners.   Even then, Harriet and Wendy would have to help me by supporting my legs up and out of the way of my sprinkling spray. When away from a proper toilet facility, I would have to be held like a toddler learning to be potty trained. Boy, was my life ever changed.  Gone forever was the easy convenience of a directional pee-pee.

As I sat tearfully in my own mess, Harriet and Aunty Janet busied themselves sympathetically.

“Never mind darling,” cooed Harriet, “it was an accident.  Ladies often have little accidents. We’ll soon have you cleaned up.”

“I’ll have to wash myself. I’m covered in pee!” I sobbed.

“Well don’t cry about it petal,” encouraged Aunty Janet.  “You hop in the shower and we’ll have this lot cleaned up in no time.”  Then she called down stairs to Wendy to get the mop and bucket.

I felt a little hurt at her use of the overly pertinent term of affection ‘petal’ but I was too busy cleaning myself and stripping off.   My shoes, jeans, panties stockings, suspender belt and blouse were all saturated. About the only things not affected were my bra and my hair.

As I stripped off, Harriet’s eye’s widened appreciatively and even Aunty Janet smiled covetously.

“I think I’ll join you in the shower my love,” said Harriet as she finished wiping the floor.

Then Wendy arrived with bucket, mop and cleaning materials as I was about to enter the shower. She looked at my new arrangements and frowned.

“Will that ever work again?”

I let out a squeal of distress at Wendy’s insensitivity and Aunty Janet scolded my twin sister.

“What a terrible thing to say! How could you be so cruel to your own sister?  As soon as the bruising and swelling has gone and things have settled down, I’m quite sure that our own doctor will be able to help!”

These words calmed me down a bit.  ‘Perhaps there was hope after all’ I thought.  With that, Harriet motioned towards the shower and I spotted a flicker of envy cross Wendy’s face.  Soon we were soaping each other down and the cleaning noises in the bathroom fell silent. Aunty Janet and Wendy had left us to our own devices.

A few weeks later, all the bruising had come out.  My ‘rosie’ as we had now come to call it, had returned to its normal pinkish hue except for the little purple bud in the middle. Indeed when relaxed, I more resembled a girl than ever. It was only when I became excited that this strange pinkish rose ‘blossomed’ inside my panties.  However, I still waddled like a duck.

Because Wendy was having her period again, I was sleeping with Aunty Janet and that morning we had accompanied each other to the bathroom to untie each other’s corselets.  As she sat on the lavatory she told me to remove my corselet completely.

“Why?” I asked surprised.

“I want to see if all the bruising come out.”

I removed the corselet and stepped out of it to stand in front of Aunty Janet as she sat on the loo.

“Hmmm. It seems to have settled down but I think Doctor Cockless might be able to improve it.”

“That’s a strange name. What does he do, cut cocks off? That’s the last thing I need isn’t it? I’ve already lost most of mine; well as good as.”

“Don’t be silly. Doctor Cockless is a lovely lady and she’s a partner in our regular doctor’s practice.”

“I’ve never met her.”

“No, well you wouldn’t until you had need of her.  I’m arranging an appointment for next week.  She’ll be able to give us an expert opinion. She could well be able to help you.”

“Huh. I’ll believe that when I see it.”

We finished our ablutions and continued our preparations for college.  The whole week was taken up with buying equipment and arranging an apartment.

Wendy was going to Vetinary College, Harriet was going to Agricultural College and I was going to a domestic science college but I would miss a term until I had had my corrective orthopaedic surgery for my legs. I would be studying for the first term from my hospital bed. Fortunately, the colleges were all in the same city so we could eventually share the same flat.  We would eat and sleep together but each go our separate way to college. Short of all doing the same course, it was considered an ideal arrangement.  I was a bit jealous of Wendy because I knew I was better at science than she was.  Still, if I was going to marry Harriet, somebody would have to know how to run a home while she ran the farm. There were only a couple of weeks left before we started in college.

Early the next day, Aunty Janet received a phone call from Doctor Cockless.

“Yes. Today.  I’ve had a cancellation. Bring her along immediately.”

I found myself being set down by Aunty Janet on her way to work and I was being interviewed and examined that same morning. This time I was alone with the doctor and able to fully describe my feelings.

“Yes.  I really do like living as a girl. I don’t have to fight and hold my own against other boys. Girls are nicer and talk about stuff instead of just grinning and smirking.  I like the life style and the clothes”, etc, etc, etc.”

The interview lasted over two hours and she then gave me an exhaustive examination. Finally she wagged her head.

“I’m afraid there’s not a lot we can do for your rosie. I could try a bit of microsurgery and a bit of cosmetic repair but I’m afraid that your rosie, - that’s what you call her isn’t it? is with you for life. Unless of course you want reassignment surgery.”

I shuddered despondently as I wagged my head.

“No.  I’m quite happy being a shemale.  That’s how my partner likes me.  It’s just that I hoped you might be able to reconstruct my rosie.”

“I could try some experimental surgery but the results might affect sensation.”

I pulled a wry smile.  The only good thing to come out of my accident was that there seemed to be a lot more sensation.  It seemed that every petal was delightfully sensitive and every time Harriet went near it, I seemed to spray my seed. We now attended to our needs by orally satisfying each other, but my Rosie totally filled Harriet’s mouth and she sometimes gagged if it blossomed too much. Then she occasionally spilt my seed. Still, I was able to serve her better each day, as oral sex became my speciality.

Doctor Cockless studied my face as I weighed up the pros and cons.

“I could try a little investigation at first just to see what potential there is.”

I slumped in the chair and nodded my head.

“OK then. Just a little bit. I want nothing drastic and no penictomy. What I’ve got, I want to keep.”

She smiled and gently hugged my shoulders.

“You really are an attractive sissy you know.  Many a woman would give her eye teeth to have you.”

“I’m already taken thank you.”

“Yes, I understand. It will be only cosmetic. OK?”

I phoned Harriet and Aunty Janet for their opinions and they encouraged me after I reassured them there would be nothing drastic. That afternoon, I had my surgery.

I awoke late that evening to feel some slight pain in my groin and some additional sensations in my breasts.  Nervously, I peeked under the frame.  My breasts were unmarked without a single scar but my whole groin was swathed in Bandages. I was puzzled why my nipples felt so nice. I only had to graze them and I felt even more delightful sensations than before.  It remained that way for two more days as Doctor Cockless, administered painkillers and antibiotics to my rosie.  Finally, as the weekend approached, the bandages came off.  Harriet, Wendy, mum and Aunty Janet were all beside me as Doctor Cockless finally revealed her handiwork.

They all gasped communally as their eyes widened appreciatively.

“Why that’s perfect!” Squealed Harriet,  “She looks exactly like a girl now. Nobody would ever know.

My eyes widened nervously as I strained to peer around the screen.

“What have they done?” I whispered nervously.

Before Harriet could answer, Doctor Cockless reached down and I felt exquisite sensations in my rosie.  I squealed with delight.

“Is that nice?” Asked Doctor Cockless.

“Ooooh! Yessss! Just there! Yessss!  That’s just so! –“

With this final cry, I felt my rosie explode with pleasure and I humped urgently as Doctor Cockless, placed a large petri dish over my rosie to smother the spraying sperm. This time however the sensations did not subside immediately. Instead they persisted for what seemed forever as the pleasures pulsed up to my titties and even into my throat.  I lay there pumping softly as an overwhelming sensation gradually spread from my rosie and overwhelmed my whole body.

“Ooohh.” I moaned as the orgasms took hold of my whole body. “It’s so, so, - I don’t know! It’s like a whole wave through my body, - my titties- my, - aaah.  Aaa-aaah what’s happening, my body! It’s alive, what’s going on?”

My heart thundered frighteningly and I felt my pulse rushing through my ears until slowly, ever so slowly, I descended from the mountaintop.

Then I felt a cold compress on my brow as the huge wave slowly started to subside in my body. Finally, I lay gasping and utterly spent.

“What happened?  What happened? I’ve never felt anything like that before.  It went on for so long.”

Doctor Cockless smiled compassionately.

“It was just a little bit of rewiring darling.  A little bit of microsurgery to some nerve tissue and you’ve just enjoyed your first female orgasm. Was it nice?”

I was speechless with delight and gratitude. My jaw worked soundlessly but Doctor Cockless simply brushed her fingers along my lips then kissed me softly.

“D’you want to see your rosie?”

I nodded dumbly and she unclipped the ‘tutu’ screen from around my waist. Nervously I pulled my breasts aside and craned my neck to study my beloved Rosie.

“There’s not much difference.”

“Not now darling, your rosie’s sleeping.  I have made your clitty a little bit smaller, so that you exactly resemble a girl, but when she gets excited, you’ll see a beautiful improvement. D’you want to see?”

I nodded nervously as everybody’s eyes widened eagerly. I could tell that something special was afoot by their expressions. Then Doctor Cockless nodded to Harriet and showed her what to do.

“Just like that see. Slowly and gently, just like foreplay for a girl.”

Harriet followed instructions and I suddenly felt the same delicious sensations radiating through my whole body again.  I whimpered nervously as I anticipated yet another hurricane of pleasure and sure enough, I was swept up into nirvana again. This time however, as I parted my breasts aside, I could see my rosie unfolding like a rose.  Only this time she was a beautiful Elizabethan rose.  Gone were the mediocre muddy pinks and browns of ordinary flesh, now there was a beautiful corona of red and white and pink petals, blossoming spectacularly like a tea rose from where I once sported a pee-pee.

Furthermore, the petals were so delicate and fine; it was almost impossible to separate them from real lacy frills. Doctor Cockless noticed my excitement and produced a ribbon of frilly pink lace.

“See darling. When I hold the lace next to the petals of your rosie, it’s almost impossible to tell them apart.”

I peered down and felt stunned at the similarity.  If I had been wearing white, pink or red panties and my rosie had popped out, it would have been impossible to recognise her as anything but a frilly rosette on the front of my panties. I gasped at the pure beauty of my new friend.

“There darling,” whispered Aunty Janet supportively, “now isn’t she just the prettiest thing a girl can have in her panties?”

“Or outside her panties,” added Doctor Cockless.

You see, all it needs is a little aperture in the front of her panties and when Rosie gets excited, her rosie will push forth and blossom. It will look just like another floret of frills on the front of her panties.”

By now, my rosie was subsiding again and Doctor Cockless seized the opportunity. She produced a pair of white panties with masses of pink frills and a tiny aperture exactly where my rosie would be.

“Put these on, and you’ll see what I mean.”

Cautiously, I stood up and stabilised myself as I carefully stepped into the panties.  I shuddered as the silky nylon slid over my tiny clitty then sighed as I finally snuggled the waistband around my slender waist.  Doctor Cockless reached forward through the little aperture in the front of my panties and skilfully pulled my little clitty out through the hole.  At first, the little pink bud was invisible under all the thick frills but that soon changed. Doctor Cockless gave the little bud a few gentle strokes that immediately caused my rosie to blossom. Within seconds I had a perfectly delightful rosette on the front of my panties.  What was even stranger was that the elasticated edge of the little aperture gripped the stem of my rosie and kept it blossoming perpetually. I would be walking around with a permanent ‘erection’ until and unless, somebody ‘relieved’ me. Once my rosie had ‘blossomed’ it was almost impossible to tug her back through the aperture and inside my panties without a little pain.

“Oh isn’t that a simply delightful picture!”  Squealed Aunty Janet.

My mum, Wendy and Harriet stayed silent to avoid upsetting my sensibilities, but I could tell that they found the image of me in a pair of delightfully frilly panties with a beautiful rosette on the front to be a simply divine picture. I noticed Harriet and Wendy surreptitiously squirming as their thoughts gave them away.   Apart from my perfectly womanly shape and large firm breasts, I might have resembled an overgrown six-year-old.  I looked at myself in the mirror and found the image strangely erotic. I felt the ‘erection’ sensation in my rosie increase and Doctor Cockless smiled knowingly.

“Be careful my little petal.  You’re giving yourself away.”

“What d’you mean?” I asked.

“Look at your rosie.”

I glanced down as all the others did and gasped. My red and white rosie was now an even deeper shade of pink going on red.

“Oh my gosh!  What’s happening?”

“It’s perfectly simple dear.  As you get hornier, your rosie gets redder.  When you are about to come, your rosie becomes a deep, deep red, just like a Valentine’s Day rose.”

“How’s that?” I squeaked.

“How long have you got?”  Sighed Doctor Cockless.

“The rest of my life!”  I sobbed.

“Well it’s not all bad news.” Smiled Doctor Cockless as she sat down to explain in detail.

“The deepening red is the last telltale sign of recovery.   When your pee-pee was crushed in the accident, there was no way anybody could reassemble the battered bits.  Much of the bruising was a sign that the blood supply was damaged and much of your vascular tissue would have died off anyway.  You might have ended up with no pee-pee at all.  I concentrated mainly on preserving as much of the blood supply to each tattered wafer of vascular tissue.  This was very complicated microsurgery.  Much of the vascular tissue had to be excised because there was not enough capillary blood supply to such thin wafers of tissue.  I had to interweave each wafer of tissue with the next in that rotary fashion because it was the only way the blood could remain flowing all around your pee-pee. What I couldn’t re-connect, I had to remove, otherwise it would have caused gangrene and infected the healthy tissue.  I have preserved your ‘left-overs’ in liquid nitrogen in case advances in science can do something for you later. Indeed, the greater part of your vascular tissue, -and there was quite a bit wasn’t there- is now preserved in liquid nitrogen.  Some of it is still intact but it was disconnected from the main blood supply.  It would simply cause your old pee-pee to become half erect at the top end while the base remains flaccid. It would be impossible to penetrate a girl’s vagina so I removed it entirely. Now, as the blood pressure in your remaining vascular tissue increases, each tiny wafer of tissue goes a deeper red. Each of these wafers comprises a ‘petal’ in your rosie, so as you get hornier, your rosie turns a deeper red.

Your rosie turning redder now means that the circulation in it is now OK.  I was waiting for this to happen before discharging you. You can go now; everything is as I would like it. It’s the best I can do. Harriet and your companions will always know when you’re about to blow.”

Harriet giggled as she handed me my bra.

“It aught to be green, amber and then red!”

“Shut up! I scolded her affectionately. You’re only jealous because you haven’t got such a pretty rosie.”

Harriet’s jaw worked silently. She was lost for words and dumbstruck for she knew I was right!

I then slipped my petticoat over my shoulders and shuddered a bit as the frills brushed my newly sensitised nipples and rosie, then finally Harriet buttoned up the back of my dress as I stepped into my shoes.  Doctor Cockless had a last few words.

“The good news is that I was able to repair some of the sprinkler damage to your urethra.  You won’t sprinkle so far forward when you pee and it wont be such a wide, forceful splash. You’ll have some better control over it. You’ll still have to squat to pee and a bit might splash your ankles if you do it on concrete. When you’re out riding and you’re caught short, make sure you remove your panties, tights and shoes then squat in the grass.  The mess shouldn’t be too bad and a couple of tissues should suffice to wipe your rosie and your inner ankles.  You should really wash your rosie after every time, but I know that’s not always possible.  Just remember to be as hygienic as possible whenever you can.   Finally, your orthopaedic surgery is set for two weeks time. Well soon have you waltzing around the floor like a duchess.”

And with that we left the hospital.


Sissy Girl Stories