Just a Touch of Spice

By Priscilla Gay Bouffant

(As mummy trains her new sissy-in-law, a real “Prissy Missy” emerges)

It seemed that whenever I had any problems my mother-in-law, Mummy Elaine had been there to comfort me, “her princess,” her “little Giselle.”

From the very start of my transformation, I had been her project. Although I was being trained for her daughter, my wife, Felicia, Elaine was putting her imprint on me. Felicia was too busy overseeing the construction of our new home, and the opening of her third physical therapy office, with her partner, ex- college roommate, and former (I hoped) lover, Beverly.

Mummy Elaine had ulterior motives. I was to be the so-called “daughter she never had.”

From a young age, Felicia had shown a proficiency for sports and health care studies. On the basketball court, though not overly tall, she could shoot a mean jump shot, block out underneath, pass behind the back and rebound with the best of them. She could ride horses bareback. The sight of her doing this, her shoulder length hair, flapping in the wind, enchanted me no end. Her talents in school and her keen business sense were well known among her peers, and she disdained the term “tomboy.”

 “I’m not a boy, I’m a woman. My strength comes from that. I can be commanding in the boardroom as well as the bedroom.” she would state to me with a seductive smile.

It was true. She was a fashion plate when it came to her appearance. She could also move with the feline grace of a Hollywood starlet on Oscar night. Our lovemaking was passionate. Passionate, mainly, because she took the lead and taught me how to please her. Though I believed my pleasure was secondary, she always saw to it that I was fulfilled.

She would not however, be the frilly, little princess her mother wanted. Not for Elaine, not for anyone. That would become my job.

Elaine had told her in confidence that I was a perfect candidate for their project. I proved her correct, right away. I didn’t hesitate for us to move in with Elaine right after our honeymoon. Felicia suggested it a wise move, as our home was not yet under construction.   “It would be foolish to rent or lease, for that short a time,” She stated in a way that assured me that the subject was closed.

 I also quit my job at Elaine’s suggestion. I fully agreed it was a dead end position. I then became Elaine’s assistant as far as housekeeping, some paperwork, and personal services, were concerned.  Never even hesitated to wear my first obviously girlish apron. Became the darling of her social set.

“My goodness Elaine, your house is always so spotless and neat.” One of her socialite friends would say.

“I couldn’t do it without my Billy. He’s such a fussy little housekeeper. So fastidious! A whiz in the kitchen also!” she’d exclaim.

It was true. She had taught me how to cook, clean, do laundry, scrub floors, and make beds. Just about anything a homemaker might need to know. She did have a cleaning service coming in twice a month, but there was always plenty for me to do.

My training had actually begun when Felicia and I were dating. She was away at her last year of college, and mummy would have me visit. I’d help her host afternoon teas with her lady friends.

“My, my Elaine, your Billy is absolutely adorable!” one matron had gushed. “Would you mind training my son-in-law Percy for me?” she asked. “Such a lovely apron he’s wearing also,” she would add.

Elaine would smile and brag about me, and then mention jokingly (I thought) that she would have an opening or maybe two whenever we moved into our new home.

“I know I’ll need a new maid,” she’d joke, “Possibly I could tutor a couple of day students,” she said candidly.

“Well let me know”, the matron replied. “In addition to Percy, my nephew, Armand, would probably make a terrific housekeeper for you, and he needs a job.”

“Oh, Armand? He’s cute. Didn’t he do pools for a while? Send him around this Spring. We’ll get him started outside,” she smiled.

All was not perfection though. I found some things a little more difficult then others.

Ironing was one. Especially the pleats in tennis skirts. Personal services were another.

I was fairly good at shaving legs, but hairdressing and nail care came a little slowly.

When Elaine was displeased, she could be quite the strict taskmistress.

“Well Billy, you’re not coming along very well with that skirt, are you? I think you need practice. I’ll have some of the girls at the club bring their pleated skirts and dresses over. After you’ve done several, your skills should improve. By the way, unless you want these same ladies knocking at the door to have their hair and nails done, I suggest you begin practicing on yourself.” She added.

As embarrassing as this was, I started painting my own fingernails and setting my hair at bedtime. Felicia wasn’t exactly thrilled, but tolerated it. She was really only home from college during the holidays anyway.

 “You do obey your mummy, don’t you Billy?” she would tease.

By this time I also realized Felicia could be very domineering in her own way. It also had become quite obvious that she and her college roommate, and constant companion, Beverly, were much more than that.

When I raised this subject she replied “You can’t expect me to suppress my sex drive for weeks Billy. Besides, female-to-female sex is the cleanest and safest. You should be happy that I’m not shacked up with some smelly boy,” she stated plainly. Then added, “You don’t have any complaints about the time we spend together. Do you dear?” She would smile, wink, and touch my cheek gently.

It was our first all day shopping trip, lunch and salon visit, however, that really cemented things. It was a Saturday, two months after our wedding. Felicia had been out of school for two years. With her and Bev’s skills, and business know-how they’d done fantastically well. Elaine’s financial connections had helped also

Construction of our new home had just begun. Felicia’s new office would be opening in a week.

We started early. Virginia’s Fashion Sense was our first stop. Felicia went right off with her favorite sales girl, Laurie, saying, “Let mother and Billy look at the petite and junior miss sizes. I’ll never be one of those.”

Felicia was five nine and about 150 pounds, a very nice size 12. I was fully three inches shorter and fifteen pounds lighter. Her reference to my being her mother’s size made me feel slightly self-conscious. My hair and Felicia’s were both shoulder length. She wore hers in a page style. Lately, Elaine was having me wear mine in a braided ponytail.

As Elaine began to look through sweater and slack sets she would glance back at me and smile. It never dawned on me how much I followed her around whenever we were together. We did seem inseparable at times. Of course, whenever Felicia required me to be with her, I fulfilled my duties as her spouse. On an occasion like this though, I somehow sensed that Felicia desired to be on her own and that I she stay with mummy.

Looking back at me for the third time Elaine said,  “You know precious, it wouldn’t hurt for you to spice up your wardrobe. Maybe a few slacks and sweater sets. Possibly some shorts and top combinations. A little more flair in your footwear would be a step in the right direction also. I know both Felicia and I would just love it. She’d be so pleased. How about it Billy dear? Why don’t mummy and her Billy surprise Felicia with a wardrobe change?” She asked so very sweetly.

I couldn’t resist. If it meant pleasing both of them, well, I’d do just about anything.

She motioned for Gwen, a saleslady, to come over.

“Gwen darling, this is my adorable son-in-law, Billy. Could we find him some things in this section? Nothing overly feminine of course.” She stated with obvious emphasis on the word feminine.

Gwen and Elaine went right into action. They began putting different combos of clothing together, including shoes and stockings. With each set of clothes I’d proceed to the dressing room, change, come out nervously and model, then return to the dressing area to do it all over again.

Gwen’s young assistant, Pam, stationed herself outside the door to answer any questions I might have, and keep any ladies from accidentally coming in.

All the sweaters seemed too fluffy. All the slacks and shorts too form fitting. The shoes were either shiny patent leather casuals or strap sandals. All had some type of heel, wedge or platform. The tops were all skin tight and revealing. The hose were more filmy then anything I’d ever wore. It didn’t matter though. The ladies pronounced every outfit “perfect”.

Worse yet, as I stood in front of a full-length mirror turning this way and that, at mummy’s instruction, my lovely wife walked up and said, “Now this is a side of you I didn’t know about Billy. Actually it’s very appealing. Gwen, don’t bother boxing this little number up. He can wear it to the salon. That way he’ll have no trouble fitting in.” she said with just a hint of sarcasm.

When I protested only slightly, Felicia said, “Excuse me a moment ladies. We’ll meet you at the register. My husband and I have something urgent to discuss.” She then took me by the arm and escorted me into the same dressing room I had used. Closing the door, as well as pulling the curtain shut she began,   “Billy my love we’ve discussed your occasional reluctance to obey on at least two occasions. You do recall them, don’t you darling? Once while we were dating, then again on our honeymoon. Need I remind you what happened,” she asked.

 “No dear, I remember very well.” I answered very submissively.

 “Well then, I want you to tell me what transpired. Not what your offense was. I want you to tell me what happened,” she stated firmly.

It took quite a bit for me to not begin crying, but I managed to say, “You gave me spankings my love.”

“Exactly! You may also recall that on both occasions it was done privately. This time you give me no choice. I will give you the spanking here in the dressing room. You will then tell mother and the sales ladies what happened. Or you can simply leave here wearing that lovely outfit. The choice is yours, pumpkin!” she stated in a matter of fact fashion.

I knew full well that if she wanted to, she had all the strength needed to carry out her threat. On our honeymoon she had managed to restrain me and silence my squealing with scarves and panties, in our hotel room. On our date we had gone to her room, as Elaine had been out with one of her country club friends. That time she had wrestled me to the floor and pinned my arm behind my back. I was then made to beg to be spanked. I decided to honor her request to wear the outfit, no matter how shameful I felt.

 We left the room and walked to the register. Only Elaine and a cashier were there. Elaine acted as if nothing unusual had happened.

 As Elaine paid for our purchases she asked, “Well, shall we walk to Tanya’s?”

Felicia quickly responded, “Of course, mother. It’s such a lovely, cool, fall day.”

The seven blocks to Tanya’s “Total Look” salon seemed like an eternity at first. But into the first block mummy and Felicia each took one of my hands and gripped them tightly. Fortunately we had placed all the packages in the trunk of the car, and they only had their purses to carry, giving them each a free hand to comfort me.

I was wearing a very fluffy rose-colored sweater with a pair of charcoal gray stirrup slacks. The black patent leather slip-on casuals I wore had a platform heel. Enough of a heel to change my gait to shorter more precise steps. I had nylon slip-up stockings on, my own socks being somehow “misplaced” at the boutique. A white silk scarf tied at my neck, the ends falling to my shoulder, set everything off. I consoled myself by thanking my lucky stars, that I wasn’t wearing the emerald colored bolero jacket, or the cream colored harem slacks with the red sash belt, that were now boxed and in the trunk.

Entering Tanya’s, the receptionist greeted both Felicia and Elaine by name. She then asked, “Well, are you girls going to introduce me to your new girl friend?”

I wanted to disappear but my mentors held my hands all the more tightly.

Felicia came to my rescue by saying, albeit jokingly, “Goodness Rachel! The lighting in here needs to be improved. The girl you refer to happens to be my husband, Billy. I’ll agree he’s a slightly built pretty boy, but this is the first time he’s ever been mistaken for a female.”

Everyone had a slightly uncomfortable laugh. As I sat down, Rachel led the ladies into the salon. She came out and handed me a copy of Vogue. “Sorry, we only have fashion, beauty and gossip magazines left. Most of the ladies in here tend to read business and news publications. Except for your wife. We keep American Horsewoman around for her.” She smiled prettily.

As I sat reading, my thoughts were on lunch. Glancing at my watch I figured it might be a late one, or possibly more like an early supper. Seated where I was I got more then a few glances from the lady clients entering the salon. One girl about 10, said, to my embarrassment, “Mummy that girl with the ponytail braid has on such a pretty sweater!” This brought a smile to Rachel’s face.

 About 45 minutes into my reading, my reverie was broken by Elaine coming into the lobby saying, “Billy, we’ve just had our manicures and need your opinion on a matter of Felicia’s hair.”

I followed her into the salon puzzled, but thrilled that Felicia would want my opinion on anything, especially her appearance. Entering a private cubicle towards the rear of the salon, I saw a stylist and a women facing the mirror. The women had a perfect, short, honey blonde bob. She spun in her chair to face me. Smiling she said, “Well how do you like my new look!” It took me a moment to realize it was Felicia.

 Stunned at this complete change, I was speechless. She decided to help me out.

“Goodness silly, it’s a wig! I’m thinking of getting my hair colored, cut and styled like this. What do you think?” She asked.

I was actually relieved. I had always loved her hair in a shoulder length page, flipped under slightly. As for her color, I’d always liked it when she colored it a couple of shades darker. A rich, deep sort of burgundy auburn. Feeling slightly bold I took a deep breath, and told her.

I was relieved when she actually smiled and said. “Well Rebecca, I think that settles it. Why don’t I go over to Carol’s booth and have the color done like my Billy likes it. I’ll also have her give me a slight trim, and of course, we’ll curl it under.” She added, winking at me.

As Felicia walked away, Rebecca spoke to Elaine, who quickly maneuvered me into the chair vacated by my wife. “You know Elaine, Billy here has some serious split ends. Actually with that cute outfit he’s wearing, that drab hair color just doesn’t do it either. Check this out.” She said, as she reached for a somewhat longer bobbed wig of the same shade of blond, and handed it to Elaine. She coiled up my braid, and pinned it to the top of my head. Placing a wig cap over my hair, she took the wig from Elaine, and snugly fitted it on my head. She and Elaine smiled as the stylist fluffed the wig out and combed it.

“Let’s go get Felicia and see what she thinks.” Rebecca said excitedly.

“No. She’s probably already getting colored. I think she’ll love it. Won’t she dear?” asked Elaine as she squeezed my shoulders.

My resolve had been nearly completely weakened. I wanted to protest but thought of the scene it might cause. Indeed the consequences could be excessively humiliating.

“Well pumpkin. Should I have Rebecca go ahead with the treatment or not? We don’t have all day. Tanya, herself, is waiting to do me.” She said, increasing the pressure on my shoulders slightly and then relaxing it.

Still confused I replied meekly, “Yes, I think so.” Then, with a little more confidence. “Yes. Of course. Especially if Felicia will like it.”

 “Like it? She’ll love it! Rebecca, you have a new client!” said Elaine gleefully, while hugging me firmly.

Placing a plastic, salon style cape on me, Rebecca propelled me towards the shampoo sink. Although, initially hesitant, I soon became immersed in the relaxing pleasures of being pampered: the feel of skilled hands working the shampoo into my scalp, the pleasant, cherry scent of the conditioner, the warm water and cream rinse.

Even after she began the coloring, and my adverse reaction to the strong scent of the chemicals became evident, she assured me it would all be worth it. I smiled and relaxed.

Seated in front of the mirror, I became mesmerized as she trimmed my hair to the correct length. Then she worked in a small amount of sculpting lotion and began my styling and blow dry. As she fluffed my hair and combed my bangs, the lovely shape of the honey blond bob became evident. It framed my face, the ends tapering to two cute curls at my cheeks. Rebecca had me shake my head for effect. We both giggled as the silky feel of my precisely shaped locks tickled my neck and face. As I admired my new, if not pronouncedly girlish look, my reverie was broken by the sound of Felicia’s voice coming closer.

“Mother, I truly can’t believe you had Rebecca do Billy’s hair.” She stated as she entered my cube.

She stopped suddenly when she saw me and she smiled, and said, “My humble apologies mother. Goodness Billy, you look sensational!” she said as she hugged me and squeezed me in her strong arms.

Her hair was still wet, but had been trimmed and tapered. She already had that glow that women get, when they know they’ll be leaving a salon looking absolutely stunning.

Then she paused glancing a everyone, “You know Rebecca, this is a picayune matter. Don’t you think that his brows and lashes should match the hair color,” she inquired.

“Oh absolutely. A brow and lash tint is definitely in order. In fact his brows could be cleaned up a tad.” Rebecca replied.

Felicia threw her hands up and smiled saying, “Excellent. Then that does it. Come along mother. By the time we reach the café they’ll have stopped serving lunch.

Soon I was being given both these treatments as mother and daughter returned to their respective booths. A manicure with clear varnish was thrown in as a freebie.

At the cash register as Elaine paid, I couldn’t take my eyes off myself. Between the new hairdo, the fashionable clothes, and the things done to my eye area, I had taken on a whole new persona.

The three of us left to go to the Green Earth Café, a trendy health food restaurant. My mood had somehow changed from one of shame, to a peaceful feeling of mild acceptance. For some reason I wanted to belong. I wanted to be part of what these ladies did together. I’m really uncertain what caused this. I still believe it was the “salon experience” as it’s sometimes referred to.

 I’ve spoken to many cross-dressed friends about it. Some forced, some like me, coerced. Others, voluntary. Most all agreed that their first pampering at a salon, with the “girls” had really been special.

I felt like walking and chatting with the ladies and expressing myself more with my hands and eye movements. It made me feel very happy and lightheaded to do this. I noticed the ladies strong approving glances and smiles.

The effect of the whole treatment had opened up my eyes and made my face and hair even more feminine. Along with my new, almost natural mannerisms, I was very nearly girlish.

This was even more evident when the hostess at the café said, “Where would you ladies like to sit?”

Worse yet, the waitress complimented me on both my “pretty sweater” and “lovely hair color”, at the same time referring to me as “miss.”

 Throughout the meal, whenever the waitress did come by, she appeared to compliment me about something. Feeling self-conscious I would thank her politely in a soft, subtle voice. I just didn’t want her to realize I wasn’t a female.

 Finally she asked Felicia, whom she seemed to know, “Where’s your husband? I thought he was coming with you and Elaine today. I’ve been dying to meet him. You’ve both told me so much about him. Couldn’t make it?” she inquired politely.

“No, he’s just been so busy lately with the housekeeping, Linda. We decide to invite my cousin Giselle along though. She’s visiting from Florida. Has a little cold. The weather. Oh goodness! How rude of me. You haven’t been introduced! She exclaimed.

 As she introduced both Linda and I, I managed to do my best to limply shake her hand and use my best, slightly feminine, slightly hoarse voice.

Linda continued to complement me. “Giselle, I think you look fabulous. I just love your natural, no make up look.” She said smiling.

“Oh she usually uses make up. We left the salon in such a hurry, Rebecca didn’t get a chance to do Giselle’s make over. She was a little late getting Giselle in for her appointment. Kind of backed up. We didn’t want to miss our reservations here. We’re going to do her make up in the powder room before we leave.” Felicia said, her eyes peering at me the whole time. Her speech, clear and precise.

“Well. I’ll bet she looks really great then. Enjoy the rest of your meal,” Linda said cheerily.

When it came time to leave, Felicia said in a matter of fact manner, “Let’s go to the powder room Giselle. No complaints. I think you know what this is all about. If you don’t, I’ll explain at home. Taking me by the arm she nearly dragged me to the ladies room.

When I told her I needed to use the rest room first, she made sure I sat down to use it.

As I approached the Vanity in the powder room area she produced a tube of lipstick and pointed to the vanity bench saying, “We may as well be convincing. No female leaves a café restroom, without freshening her lipstick.” She smiled.

“Please dear,” I pleaded. “Not just this moment,” I practically begged.

“Why not? You’ve been heading this way for ages. I say the sooner the better. Now get over here. Or do I have to carry out the threat I made at the dress shop?” she asked firmly.

Walking towards the mirror I felt nearly all of my last vestiges of maleness melting away. The final pieces would dissolve later that evening. For the time being, I told myself this was just a temporary thing.

I have to admit that Felicia applied my lipstick with love and care, making it perfect. She even used it to give my cheeks a blushed look, after putting my foundation and powder on. Then my shadow, pencil and mascara.

Fully made up, staring at a real feminine looking person named “Giselle” I realized what had been going on all along. All the hints, the innuendoes, the feminine situations. Actually, it had been obvious, but I had denied it. Denied I was a candidate. Denied what they were doing. Denied that my token resistance was proof that I had actually welcomed my transformation.

Satisfied she took my arm and we left the restroom and café to meet Elaine on the sidewalk. Elaine smiled at me complimenting me on my choice of lipstick shades, barely acknowledging that I was fully made up.

“’Candied Plum’, isn’t it Felicia?” Elaine inquired.

“Close Mother. It’s ‘Black Cherry’.” My wife replied.

“The rest of the colors are lovely choices as well. Beautifully blended dear,” she said holding my chin in her palm, and gently turning my head, side to side.

On the way home, I more or less knew this was permanent, but hoped against hope something would change.

As soon as we entered the door Felicia said, “Mother and I will be taking care of the packages, Giselle. I want you to relax in the tub dear. You’ve had a long day. I’ll be up to take care of you, sweetheart,” she said with a smile and a conspirators wink

She didn’t have to tell me twice. In nothing flat I was running a hot bath, naked and in the tub waiting for my love, full make up still intact.

Felicia entered with her hands and arms quite full.

She hung up a nightie set. Placed a bowl on the vanity after filling it with hot water. Then she began pouring scented bath oil in the tub. She motioned for me to stir the oil into the water, as she stated sweetly, “We need to get you all smooth, clean, sweet smelling, fluffy and pretty for tonight dear. You and I are going to have some real fun. Just like Beverly and I used to have in the old days.”

I looked at her pleadingly and she continued.

“Don’t pout at me dearest. I’ve told your more then once how much I sometimes missed my Bev. How I wished you’d femme up for me once and a while and be like her. Well tonight dear, I’ve stopped asking. This evening I’ve decided to take full control. Tonight I’m your mistress and you’re my sweet little lover girl. Stand up and we’ll shave those legs. Now dearest. I’m waiting.” She said this with the firmness and confidence of a true domme. The humiliating spanking I would soon get would finish off any resistance I still had left. At this point I decided not to resist, out of the fear of what she might do should I refuse.

I stood up meekly as she soaped my legs, chest, and genitals. She worked efficiently, humming to herself, and smiling.  Once she had taken care of my now aroused genital area, she continued with my chest. Completing that, she handed me the razor, saying in a commanding tone, “You’ve shaved mothers legs enough, you can do your own. Rinse the razor in the water bowl as I did. Keeps hair out of the tub.”

Turning towards the door she stopped, and as an after thought said, “Please use that hairdo bonnet hanging on that towel rack. You needn’t ruin that lovely do Rebecca gave you. Don’t muss your make up either. If you do muss it, repair it. I know you’ve fixed Elaine’s plenty of times. When you’re finished, put on some ‘White Shoulders’, that powder blue baby doll set, and those heels. Then come to my bedroom. We’re going to confirm whose boss in this relationship."

I knew when she left that this was indeed a permanent thing. I hadn’t said a word on my behalf. Not a word.

 Thirty minutes later I did my best to prance into the room, in as feminine a manner as I could.

Makeup repaired, heavily perfumed, hair fluffed with a bow attached on the side. I’d even thought about putting matching polish on my fingers and toenails, but couldn’t find any black cherry.

My mistress, and I knew she was my mistress, sat comfortably on the love seat in her bedroom, holding a plastic hairbrush in her hand. I would soon find out, that my bedroom was the room next to hers.

“Well, well. What a pretty sexy girl. Too bad we’re going to have to spank her,” she said with a mock pout.

She motioned to me saying, “Over my lap Giselle. Just a couple of love taps to put things in perspective. A pink butt is a obedient butt, I always say.”

I didn’t hesitate, although I was certainly scared. As I positioned myself over her lap she slipped my ruffled, baby doll bottoms down, running her hand over my butt, and cooing softly to me.

She then said with firmness, “Okay Giselle honey, you can hold on to that end of the love seat. I don’t want you falling on the floor. If you have to, go right ahead and kick those smooth little legs of yours and shriek and squeal for all your worth. Don’t worry about mom hearing you. She’ll probably come into watch anyway. Another time we’ll set some rules for spankings. You know. Counting the swats and thanking me?”

She phrased it as if I got spanked all the time.

“Here we go, sweetheart!” she warned. Smack! Then a few more and I began to kick and scream just as she had predicted.

Apparently Elaine was too busy to watch, as she never came in. Not that night, anyway.

 As the spanking and my sobbing continued, the whole aura of my submissive femininity began to take over. I began to feel helpless, controlled, and tingly. I was also very aroused.

I began to rotate my pelvis into Felicia’s lap and make babyish whimpers. She responded by lessening the force of the spanks before she stopped altogether. I then felt her oiled hand begin to rub and pat my hot, red butt. The combination of being soothed along with my increasing arousal caused me to begin to beg, “Oh please, my mistress, make me your sex toy! Do anything you want to me! Please! I need you so desperately!”

That was what she’d wanted me to hear. I’m almost certain of that. Possibly not those exact words. My surrender, to her will, completely was what was important. She helped me to my feet and pulled me to the bed using my engorged penis to drag me along.

Once on the bed I was positioned on my back with my feet towards the headboard. My baby doll bottoms were still pulled to my thighs, my heels still on. Removing her negligee she mounted me and lowered herself onto my face, looking down at me the whole time. My whimpering was soon replaced by the muffled sounds of me licking her clitoris.

Soon she was grinding her pelvis into my face and mouth. Between my slurps and gasps, I heard her tease me about smearing my make up. Then I felt her tense as though she threw herself back, her gorgeous breasts thrusting out.

She shuddered to an orgasm and laid beside me pulling me to her.

“Oh, sweet Giselle. You’ve been really good for Mistress Felicia. That’s how we want to do it. Never ever come until I let you baby. Would you like to come Giselle? Ask me nice then. Real nice,” she added.

I was very surprised as it had been the best lovemaking we’d ever had. I wanted to complete it for me desperately. I had no trouble begging for a couple of minutes for permission to have an orgasm.

“Of course you can baby. I’m a very kind mistress when my girl has been obedient. Let’s see. I want to put you into a cute position and have you do something very sissy like to make it fun for both of us. Oh! I know!” she said happily.

 Putting me in a kneeling position, on the bed, with my torso upright she handed me the same hairbrush used to spank me. She held a small bottle of Aloe Vera gel. She sat on the bed facing me and slid her self so her legs were either side of my waist. She began to massage my unladylike rod with her hands coated with the gel. She moved her hands as if she were moisturizing them, but in this case my penis was in between. I was in paradise. Smiling she said, “ Okay sweet thing, brush my hair. Make believe you’re a salon girl. Tell me how pretty I am. Stare directly at me when you do it. Right at my face. Right into my eyes. Tell me I’m gorgeous and that I have beautiful hair. Do it baby!” she said with a hot, sexy, throaty voice.

I’ve done similar favors for her while she’s had hold of me. She’s fully in control. I’ll do and say anything.

I’ve sat on a dresser while she’s been in front of me in a chair, while I put hot rollers in her hair. I’ve applied her lipstick for her and made up her face, her sitting on the bed, me standing. Some times she’ll have me talk with a lisp. Other times I’m made to tell her what a good (or bad) little sissy I’ve been that day.

The commonalties in these situations are threefold. She is massaging my genitals, I’m doing something very sissy and swish, and when she gives me her permission I have the most intense orgasms possible.

She brings me to such a peak, and my release is so complete that I am brought to the sweet tears of surrender. This first night as her submissive girl was no different. When the day did finally dawn, I was still safe in her arms, and ready to become whatever she wanted me to be. Girlfriend, maid, submissive lesbian lover. It didn’t matter. I could and I would. She only need say the word.

Elaine had her own ideas. Although they conflicted with Felicia’s, Elaine was well intentioned. It’s just, that as coconspirators, there was a slight miscommunication, between them. Nothing serious. We worked it out. Beverly, whom I once distrusted, was a great help.

“My but you two were noisy last evening. I do hope you had a good time.” Elaine commented the morning after at breakfast.

“Goodness you both look lovely today. Especially you Giselle. Felicia, while you’re at the office today, I’ll get Giselle started on some charm lessons, among other things. We don’t want anyone ever doubting her station or her pedigree. It’s very important.” She said this as if it were routine. I smiled. I was thrilled she would take the time to teach me.

“Yes mother. It is important. For my sake would you make sure she has my lounging pajamas, some foot cream, and three fingers of Pinch, neat, waiting for me when I get home?” Turning to me, with a wink, she said, “ I have no objection to you being in something very comfortable either girlie.”

“Daughter dear, remember, I’ll be here also when you arrive. You could wait for the something comfortable stage. Possibly later in the evening.” Elaine said, a little put off.

“Okay mom. By the way. Some type of quiche would be nice this evening.” She said as she kissed me and went out the door.

Elaine, not to be outdone, watched her, through the front window as Felicia got into her Audi. Mummy shook her head and commented, “She was always a bossy child. Got her way. Without complaining though. Very persuasive. I’m proud of her.”

Then, to me she said, “Well my child, I’m proud of you also. You’ve made impressive strides. I’m very pleased. Today your journey into womanhood will continue. You’re dearly loved by my social set. You’re their darling, even now. I intend to make you a social butterfly. The ‘Belle of the Ball’ so to speak. Shall we begin?” she asked with a smile and conspirators wink.

“Oh yes mummy Elaine. Teach me. Teach me to be like you! Please?” I actually pleaded.

I had no idea what I was getting into, but hardly cared. I just new I was going to love being fussed and fawned over. Being pampered and petted. The center of attention. “Mummy’s girl.”

Elaine was good at what she did. If I had been the darling of her social set before, as she had predicted, I became their little social butterfly. If I wasn’t with Elaine at a girlfriends house for tea, we were ‘doing lunch’ at her club. I learned all the social graces. She gave me intense charm lessons that were not without their moments of discomfort over her knee.

 Felicia would notice my pink butt in bed and laugh, “Don’t worry. My strap on won’t go anywhere near that part of your butt tonight.”

I still performed adequately in bed. I still maintained my good cooking and housekeeping skills. I even donned a maid’s uniform when told to because I adored the way I looked.

Adoring the way I looked and needing to be the center of attention would prove to affect our sex life.

I grew to love spending all morning at the salon and having the girls go way overboard in complimenting me, that afternoon at the club. There was no way I wanted to get mussed by Felicia that evening, Mistress or not.

We were now in our new home, maybe three weeks, when things came to a head.

That morning I’d cleaned house until maybe nine, having risen at seven to see Felicia off to the office. Then I’d really dolled up because mummy and I were going to an art show, then to a friend’s for a late lunch.

Felicia decided to surprise me by coming home for a romantic interlude at noon. I hadn’t mentioned a thing about going out with mummy. I rarely did. We just went out a lot together. I took it for granted.

Mummy pulled in right behind Felicia. I minced out the door, gave Felicia a dainty little wiggle of my fingers, blew her a kiss, and said, “Hello love. Can’t talk. Mummy and I have a big day planned. See you around sixish.”

Never missed a beat. She stared at me all the way to mummy’s car and we drove off. We were at the art show when mummy’s cell phone beeped. Always the lady, she took her conversation into the powder room. I waited politely, chatting with a couple of my “fans,” chatting about, not the artwork, but my favorite designers.

She was in the powder room quite some time, I gather, but I hardly noticed, being thoroughly self absorbed in my showing off.

 She smiled as she walked up to our group saying, “You’ll have to excuse Giselle and myself girls, something’s come up. Nothing serious. I’ll explain at the ladies brunch tomorrow. Come along, precious.” She smiled as everyone said their surprised good-byes.

I obediently minced behind her asking questions a mile a minute until she turned to me and said, “Quiet please little missy. I’ll explain in the car on the way to your new home. You, on the other hand will remain completely silent. No questions, no idle chatter. Is that understood?” she stated with a firmness she rarely used with me, except just prior to a spanking.

I nodded timidly and whispered, “Yes, mummy dearest.”

On the way home she was her usual firm but understanding self. She explained much of what was happening and even shouldered much of the responsibility.

As I gracefully stepped from her car and blew her a kiss she smiled and told me, “Giselle, this is only temporary. It is however time for me to let go of you, so you can flower as my daughters wife.” She went on, “I have a venture I need to pursue for my own satisfaction. You need time to grow with Felicia. Remember. We only live a few miles apart.”

As she drove away, I waved, and I walked into the house. Felicia appeared to be in the process of leaving. I was shocked and my face must have shown it.

“Don’t worry, princess, I should be back in about 90 minutes. I was unable to cancel one of my afternoon appointments. It’s a consultation.” She said as she put her coat on.

“Anyway, we will be discussing a few things when I return. It wouldn’t hurt for you to be in something sexy. For instance, the baby dolls laid out on our bed.” She meant business, but I decided to be slightly defiant.

“Yes ma’am. Are there any other instructions? I asked a little too impertinently.

She spun around at the door and strode towards me, “As a matter of fact there are!” she exclaimed.

 “I’d like you to shower, Ms. Liz Taylor, and shampoo the goo out of that dated bouffant flip you wear. Then re-style your hair natural and tousled, like the wench I want you to be. Make up? Sexy, but be ready to smear it all over me. Any other questions?” She truly affirmed her dominance with her next statement.

“Before you answer. Don’t ever again use that flippant tone of voice with me. I’ll put you right over my knee. Understood?” she stared at me and then walked up to me and held me. I began to sob.

We both did some apologizing. Me for being so absorbed in myself. She for her devotion to her work.

As she wiped my tears she took a deep breathe and said, “This will appear to be bad timing.” She looked at her watch. “I have a few moments. Let’s sit down.”

She began, “Bevy’s condo lease is up soon. She’s nowhere near to finding a home to buy. I told her she could move in to the guest apartment here until she does. This has nothing to do with us. If anything she’d like to help. I need to have you begin sharing in decisions like this. How do you feel about it?” she asked.

As much as I wanted to say no I did my best to smile and said, “I feel okay about it.”

Today I’m thrilled that I did. Bev is really lots of fun. She can be strict. Sometimes stricter then mummy or Felicia even. The good thing is, she loves Felicia as much as I do.

“That’s great Giselle. You’re so sweet! Give Mistress 90 minutes, give or take a few and we’ll make up for lost time. Remember, really hot and sexy. Okay?” she gave me her most seductive wink.

I headed for the bathroom. I planned to take less then 90 minutes. I wanted to be waiting for her at the door.

I made it. So have the three of us.

Epilogue

 “Bevy, Giselle, we’ll be late,” Felicia calls. Oh, okay, you’re ready.” she smiles.

“Yes, and we look hot too,” Bev says as she pinches my butt. She continues to playfully tease me. “You won’t feel jealous seeing some one else at Elaine’s wearing the maids uniform will you Giselle?”

I laugh, “No Madame Beverly, I wear one enough around here.” I giggle, really in character, as she swats my butt.

I take the back seat in the car after holding the door open for Felicia. Bev stands at her door, so I get out, sashay around to the passenger side, curtsey and hold the door open for her. She winks as she climbs in. Mentions I shouldn’t forget my place, then she smiles.

Felicia, as usual is above it all. She knows her place; she’s our queen.

It’s a beautiful day to visit mummy. She makes such a big deal over me when she sees me.

“My goodness! You’re a red head! Those curls!  She gives me a big hug.

Mandee, promoted from pool boy to ladies maid, definitely has mummy’s mark on her. Lovely adult maids uniform but those jet black sausage curls really scream out, mummy’s sissy.

She serves us beautifully.

Tanya from the hair salon enters from the rear of the house and there’s greeting all around. I’m puzzled by her presence momentarily.

“I really do have to run, girls. A private appointment with our new governor, at her mansion,” she explains. “God am I glad she dumped that bozo. I hated going over there. He was always pawing at me after I’d get her under the dryer.” She added with a mock shiver.

She continued, “Elaine, your three students are waiting for you to excuse them, so they can call home for their rides. They did really well with their beauty lesson, especially Percy, I mean Rachel. I gave them home work, but told them to wait for you for dismissal.” She waved and waltzed out the door.

Mummy rang her little maids call bell and Mandee pranced in and curtseyed. I could see she was still having just a tad of trouble with her six-inch heels. Not much, just a very little. I could see that mummy noticed too. Probably had her wearing them because of company. I was sure this shortcoming would be brought to Mandee’s attention later in the evening.

“Mandee, excuse the girls from their lesson for today. They’re on the patio. Have them wait for their ride, in my office. Make sure they’re told to sit quietly. If they have written homework they can start on it. Call Miriam Grant, Danielle’s older sister. She’s picking the three up.” She said this in such an organized professional way.

As Mandee walked away I saw Elaine do something very out of character. She lightly touched Mandee’s thigh and winked at her. I thought I noticed Mandee shiver just a little and take one or two unsteady steps.

Mummy turned back to us and told us what a joy it was helping her friends with the “uncooperative young boys” in their lives, and how rewarding it was “watching these same young ruffians bloom into demure, gentle, flowers.”

She was right. When Miriam Grant showed up, those three little angels left in demure single file, after curtseying to everyone and kissing mummy goodbye.

We left about an hour later, making a date with mummy to go to a dressage competition.

Bev had me sit between her and Felicia on the way home. When she started to rub my leg I knew it would be a long Sunday night. Especially when Felicia’s hand went underneath my black leather mini dress. Things had really changed.

Ended