Good Riddance

by Gingerfred Man

 

Chapter Five—Emasculation Phase Two - Antoinette

Though we made love a lot that night, Daddy made sure I got some sleep. Frankly, I thought Daddy would take my anal virginity that night and I would have been happy to cooperate fully. But he didn't.

Still, I swallowed three big loads of Daddy's manly juices and Daddy made me "lose my cargo" so many times I forgot to count.

I thought we would stay in bed all that wonderful Saturday and make love, but Daddy was up and moving at 7:30.

"Lots to do today, Pumpkin," Daddy said, smacking my lazy little bottom playfully. "Lots. Let me give you a quick breakfast and then we have to get moving. We have the birthday party at 1:00 and we have lots to do before then."

Apparently there was "lots to do." But what? And for whose birthday? My nineteenth birthday was in two weeks, so I knew it wasn't mine.

Daddy and I ate our oatmeal in the nude. I would have been aroused by that except we both smelled bad and needed a shave. Yes [blush], I had stubble too.

Daddy cleaned up the dishes then took me into the shower in his bathroom. We showered together for the first time and it was nice, but not erotic. Daddy was intent on getting me clean and shaven all over. After he dried me off, he laid me on his bed and I was hoping he was going to make love to me. But instead, he gave my manicure and pedicure a touchup. He then gave my toesies and fingers two coats of a hot-pink polish that screamed "sissy."

I still hadn't cum that morning when Daddy took me by the hand to the third bedroom, which had always been locked. It was open that morning. We walked in.

It was a sissygirl's paradise! Frothy and pink. Frilly and lacy and creamy and feminine. With a lovely dressing area filled with mirrors and cosmetics of every ilk. A nice big double bed, with frilly bedclothes and a canopy. And the closet was a huge walk-in filled with little-girl's clothes. The kind I had missed out on by growing up a boy. Mirrors were everywhere.

The bathroom was beautiful too! Pink and feminine with a sunken bathtub big enough for two.

It was all for me. Thanks to my wonderful Daddy.

My eyes filled with happy tears. I hugged Daddy.

Daddy hugged me back. "I knew yesterday when you strode into work sissied and proud that you were ready for the next phase of emasculation, Babydoll. I called your Mom and Dad - they send their love - to tell them how well you're doing and to suggest that they give all your boy clothes to charity. You're not going back. Only forward. Now let's get you dressed for your birthday party. Your debut not as Tony, but as Antoinette."

Antoinette?

That was to be my name? It was so girly. You could lose your head over a name like that.

I loved it!

And I loved Daddy.

He may have been in a hurry, but there's always time for kissing. We took the time.

And a nice blowjob. On my knees - I really liked being on my knees.

Daddy returned the favor, but not on his knees as he was a manly man, not a sissy.

Cooled off a bit, Daddy took me through a whole new set of preparations. "You're going to be a girl today, my Darling," he said. "And every day hereafter of your wonderful life. Let's begin with your pretty face, but first, let's get some panties on you or your pretty sissy clitty will distract me from my appointed tasks."

Daddy put a robe on so I wouldn't be too distracted. Then he showed me my first girlie panties of my emasculation training.

They were the absolutely sissiest thing I had ever seen.

Pink satin, with white lace trim. Six little white ribbons all around the waistband. Seven rows of white ruffles all along the "seat." And the cutest white and pink satin bows on the side of each leg opening.

I slid them on and delighted in the deep, true girlish feelings they engendered.

Taskmaster Daddy didn't give me any time to admire my pretty panties in the mirror.

He sat me down at the vanity table and started gathering a battery of cosmetics.

"We won't overdue the make-up, Antoinette," Daddy said. "Young girls should go easy on the cosmetics. They shouldn't grow up too fast."

[Giggle] I loved hearing Daddy call me "Antoinette." And a "young girl."

My newly-named "clitty" was all-a-twitty!

"Let's start with some foundation to cover that 'man problem' you still have on you pretty face. The beard can be annoying, though yours is very light. And we can get rid of it with the right 'vitamins' and some special beauty treatments."

Vitamins? What kind of vitamins gets rid of facial hair? Oh well. However, the idea of "beauty" intrigued me.

Daddy seemed to be an absolute whiz with cosmetics! He was better than those ladies who do the ten-minute makeovers in Bloomingdale's. He brushed on some pink blush and did some light touches around my eyes to give them a wide-open, perpetually amazed look. The hot-pink, ultra- shiny lip gloss was the real show-stopper.

"Nothing too slutty for my princess on her birthday," Daddy said.

I looked at the results in the mirror.

Wow!

I was a little knockout. They would all want to play spin the bottle with me, all right.

I thought I would be getting dressed next, but Daddy asked me to pull my panties down first.

Oh, goodie! Was he going to fuck me at last? I was ready. And eager.

No.

He said, "Bend over, Sweetie. I need to give you your first vitamin shot in your perfect tear-drop tushie."

I was hoping for a different kind of injection from Daddy. But I did so want to be more feminine. And Daddy said the vitamins were good for me. The needle pricked a little. But we girls must suffer for our beauty.

Daddy scooted my panties back up, copping a nice feel as he did so.

But that was as far as his friskiness went.

Rats.

Daddy slid a silky, pre-pubescent-girl's camisole over my head. It matched my panties in both color and trim. I loved the feel of satin on my erect, excited nipples and could not resist tweaking them a bit to make them stand out even more.

Then it was time for serious dressing.

Daddy introduced me to my first petticoats - white, full, frothy things that made me swoon with girlish feelings. I simply could not resist placing my hands on the sea of sissy froth surrounding my waist. But the swooning had hardly started.

The main event emerged from the closet.

The prettiest, pinkest, fullest, sissiest, little-girl party dress that anyone ever wore.

It was spectacularly feminine. And totally inappropriate for a person of my age.

I didn't care.

It was the dress I should have worn to parties had I not been pretending to be a boy most of my life.

I squealed in girlish delight and flapped my limp wrists when I saw it and covered Daddy with kisses.

Daddy liked that.

He also liked how I again swooned in the sissiest sissy manner when he pulled the dress over my head and I felt its raw feminizing power. I even felt lightheaded, so strong was the emasculating force of the frilly sissy frock.

Daddy gasped when he saw me, but before he let me see myself in the mirror, he fiddled with my hair with a styling brush and some type of setting mousse. Using two pink barrettes and one large, pink ribbon, Daddy feminized my hair to his satisfaction. Then he sat me down and slid a garter-like band up my left leg to my lower thigh. It had a performed huge pink and white satin bow on it that faced off-center to my left. He followed with a pair of incredibly-frilly, short white sissy ankle socks on my pretty feet. Then he completed the ensemble with a pair of pink-satin Mary Janes that had two-inch heels and cute satin bows on their toes.

The final touches were pretty white lace short gloves that still showed my pink nails and ended in a froth of white frills, a tiny little pink satin handbag and an intoxicating spray of peach-scent perfume.

That outfit would have emasculated John Wayne. Maybe even the entire NFL.

Daddy stepped back and admired his work. I saw his stiff cock poke out of his robe and thought that I would be stiffening a lot of cocks in my life to come. The life that in many ways was beginning that day.

At last I was allowed to admire myself in the mirror.

I was a stunner! I liked what I saw in the mirror. I preened, sighed and struck a pose - many poses, actually.

The dress was quite short, ending at mid-thigh with my petticoat ends peaking out past its hem. Just above the hem was a row of nine white satin bows that went around the skirt. The dress's high, tight waist was covered with a sash that tied into a huge bow in the small of my back. The sleeves were short, puffy and also finished with bows at their tight hems. The bodice fit across my still boyish chest and ended in a high white Peter Pan round collar. Yet another pink satin bow burst out from the front of the collar and tickled my chin and sweet rouged cheeks.

Any dirty old man worth his bag of candy would have creamed in his raincoat the moment he saw me.

I was all set to cream in my panties. I liked being "Antoinette." A lot!

I was so busy admiring myself that I didn't notice that Daddy had left me, shaved, dressed in a very nice suit and tie, written an opera, negotiated world peace and solved the Sunday New York Times diagramless crossword puzzle.

Daddy and I walked hand-in-sissy glove to the car. Well, Daddy walked, I minced along holding my tiny purse with bent arms and limp wrists. I wished we were walking to my party - my birth as a girl. I wanted everyone to see me. However, that would come soon enough.

The party was in the Emasculation Station building. And I was very curious about who was to be there for me.

The first familiar face I saw was Miss Crushman's. "Oh, Antoinette," she said. "I'm so proud of you. There's still much work to be done, but you're doing very well. Enjoy your party."

She took her leave. Then Daddy led me to the party room, opened the door and we walked in.

To a room filled with balloons and crepe paper. A big "Happy Birthday, Antoinette" sign draped across the back wall.

And filled with ten squealing, clapping sissies, jumping up and down in their pretty (but not as pretty as mine) party dresses.

I thought it was an all-girl affair until I saw the chaperones - Seven men and three women. Hunky, daddyish men. Tall, substantial, well- dressed, very-high-heeled women in slender skirts and beautiful blouses.

Each of the girls apparently had a teacher, like Daddy. I felt very sorry for the girls who had women teachers. I liked having Daddy.

The girls surrounded me, squealing out their birthday wishes. They were all very sweet and they all introduced themselves. I forgot their names almost immediately after hearing them until…"Hi, Antoinette. It's me, Megan. We met at Panty Pride at college. Remember me?"

Oh my goodness, I should say I remembered Megan. At my first Panty Pride meeting, she had wanked me to my first orgasm.

I squealed, flapped my limp wrists in delight and hugged her, happy to find a familiar face.

Megan looked fantastic. Her dress was the complement of mine. Pink where mine was white and vice versa.

She stuck close to me, but I didn't really get to talk to her, since we all played pin-the tail-on-the-donkey and hopscotch and even [blush] an all-sissy spin-the-bottle,

Before long we had cake and ice cream and then I opened my presents. Lots of frilly, girly clothes. And Daddy took pictures of everything.

After two hours, the party was over. I enjoyed it, but I wanted to get home, get my panties down and invite Daddy to stick his big thingee in me.

After all, thingees go better with sissies.

Not yet.

Daddy had collected all my "loot" and said goodbye to some of the other "teachers." I couldn't wait to get Daddy in the car where I could thank him by sucking his cock properly. A car suck was almost as nice as an on-your-knees suck - both were so deliciously naughty and submissive.

Not yet either.

"Antoinette," he said. "Megan and her 'auntie' will be coming home with us today. I was delighted to see that you know Megan and it's time you get to know some girls your own age."

That was OK, I guessed. As long as Megan didn't try to move in on my Daddy!

Megan's "auntie" was over six feet tall and with her five-inch heels, she was taller than Daddy. She was in her late 30s, strikingly beautiful and had the biggest titties I had ever seen,

I think Daddy noticed.

We all got into Daddy's car, kids in the back seat. I was so randy that I thought about having a mutual wank with Megan. But I didn't want to mess with anything she had going with "Amazon Auntie."

Megan and I just held hands and admired each other's beauty all the way home.

We piled out of the car. Megan and I held hands and skipped into the apartment building, grownups trailing.

We entered the apartment.

Daddy said, "Girls, Megan's Auntie and I have some things to discuss. Would you like to get to know each other better while we're talking? I have play clothes for both of you in your top middle drawer if you want. You can change and we'll have dinner in four hours."

Four hours? They must have had a lot to discuss. Still, I wanted to talk to Megan about what her experience in emasculation had been like so far. It was obviously different from mine. She didn't have a daddy.

Megan and I toddled off to my room, semi-happily. I didn't like Megan's auntie, that she-demon cutting in on my territory with Daddy.

Megan squealed when she saw how pretty and feminine my room was. "Did your daddy decorate this for you? You are so lucky to have him. Has he fucked you yet?"

Megan was, as I remembered, very direct. I wasn't used to such "rough talk," so I looked down and said, "Not yet." Then I giggled and said, but I've sucked his cock and it's dreamy!"

Giggles and squeals all around.

"I don't know about you, Antoinette, but I'm very randy. Would you like to show me some of the things your daddy taught you?"

In response, I got on my knees. [Have I mentioned that I adore being on my knees?] Megan lifted her skirts and petticoats, exposing her perfumed, pink-ruffled, white satin panties. Which I eased up and over her sore, stiff cock, then down to her white satin Mary Janes.

Megan stepped out of her panties and gasped girlishly when I took her pretty cock into my mouth. It was a nice one - big and fat - with a pink head that was darkening as I teased and pleased it with my tongue. It was not only meaty, but delicious as well.

"Oh, Antoinette, that's very nice. Your daddy taught you well. And he's so lucky to have you. Yes, that's it. Lick it there in that little arrow point. Just like th… Oh."

And the sweet, overheated sissy blew a nice thick load all over my face. After all that work Daddy had done on my cosmetics. Oh well. Some art is meant to be defaced. Or maybe it was just a work in progress.

Megan drew me to my feet and kissed me, licking off her girlie goo from my face. Then she got to her knees. I lifted my skirts and petticoats.

Some things just come naturally to a sissy.

"Those are the prettiest panties in the whole world, Antoinette," she said. "Let's get them off you so I can make you happy."

Megan eased my panties down my legs and I stepped out of them. I was VERY excited. It was the eighth wonder of the world that I hadn't squirted already.

"Oh, Antoinette," Megan said. "I think someone's pricklet has grown a bit. Have you been using your 'little gentleman' a lot since I saw you last?"

I giggled. "Just a little. Now get to work, you lazy girl."

Megan did, giving me the nice, long, wet, slurpy blowjob we all dream of getting. Since I hadn't cum in about eight hours (!), it was an extra-creamy load I shot all over her cute, face.

Nothing like returning a favor.

She stood up so I could properly clean her face with my still-hungry tongue, stopping to share frequent cummy-kisses along the way.

Since we still had about three hours and 26 minutes to kill before Daddy and Aunt Busty got done doing whatever heterosexual nastiness they were immersed in, Megan and I had time to talk.

We could have gotten naked and gotten into my bed together, but we both loved our sissy dresses and petticoats too much to take them off. Instead, we just ditched our panties and lay together in a nice cuddle. The mixing of satin and petticoat made a heavenly sound.

Megan was Miss Curiosity Box about Daddy. I told her a lot, except the sex part. But the little perv wanted details like, "When will your daddy fuck you?"

"I don't know," I said wistfully. "But I want him to. And the sooner the better." [Giggle]

"I'll bet he has a beautiful cock. Did you suck it a lot?" she asked.

"Oh, yes. And swallowed his big creamy cargo. It's delicious."

We both giggled our sissy bottoms off.

Megan told me about her emasculation so far. Like our dresses, we were complete opposites.

Her "boy phase" lasted three and a half weeks, compared to my one week. And no sex from a man!!!

"I guess they figured that I had been 'prospected' and test 'drilled' a few times by men already," Megan said. "I needed emasculation by women. And, believe me. I got it."

I had to ask. "Men fucked you?"

Megan looked at me as if I were the slow kid in class. "I had some male 'friends' in college who appreciated my femininity, yes."

Wow. I WAS the slow kid. But if I had had Megan's background, I would have never met Daddy.

Megan went on to describe how "Auntie" took every opportunity to humiliate her in front of ladies. "Auntie had a really simple reward and punishment system - follow the rules and you eat Auntie's pussy. And it's a really nice pussy between two great legs. Screw up and Auntie spanks you. And she can really spank."

"How did she humiliate you?" I asked.

"Lots of ways. The worst I think was pole races."

"What were they?"

"There's a room at Emasculation Station that's kind of like an arena. The 'pole race' competition area is in the center and there are spectator benches all around. Ladies watch as sissyboys race through the poles."

"What kind of poles?"

"The wrong kind. The poles are actually soft rubber, penis-shaped, vertically-oriented objects anchored to three parallel benches. On each bench, the size of each pole increases in order from a three-inch cock to a five and seven-incher. And their diameter increased proportionately! Sissyboys are brought into the pole arena, where they are stripped nude and paraded before the hooting, guffawing ladies. Each of the poles is well-lubed and the boys are each given a jar of lube which they can use to prepare their own bottoms for the race."

"Then what?" I asked, fascinated.

"Then the race began," Megan said. "Two other sissyboys and I stood by our benches and, at a signal, we had to ease our bottoms down on the three-inch pole-prick. When we were all the way down, we had to stroke our boycocks until we spurted. Then we moved to the next pole, sat on it and spurted. All while being insulted and humiliated by an audience of rude women. The first boy to take all three poles in his pootie and cum three times is the winner."

How humiliating! How emasculating!

How thrilling!

"What does the winner get?" I asked.

"He gets to eat the pussy of any lady in the audience."

Interesting.

Megan added, "And the losers get spanked. Hard."

Ouch.

"Did you win?"

"I lost the first three times and won the next time. Spanking isn't all that bad. Auntie says a spanking is never wasted on a sissy. But eating pussy is overrated. I prefer diving into the genitalia of a man."

Me too, I thought. Then I asked, "Which lady's pussy did you eat?"

"I chose Miss Crushman, the only sissyboy who ever picked her."

"Wow," I said. "That was ballsy. How was her pussy?"

Megan smiled ironically, "Well, Miss Crushman didn't exactly have a pussy. She has a big, moist and meaty clitty, if you know what I mean."

I did. We giggled furiously at Miss Crushman being one of us.

"The pole races are good lessons in emasculation," Megan said. "But the final test before I moved out of the sissyboy stage, that was the worst!"

I was almost afraid to ask. "What was it?"

"It was horrible. Auntie took me in the car to [choke] a part of town I didn't know and …."

Megan's eyes filled with tears. "She made me…"

It was wrenching for her. I felt very bad for her. What atrocity had been committed on her?

Megan gutted it out and told me. "She made me…ask for people for directions!!!!!"

[The horror!!!!!!!!!!!]

The most emasculating act of all. The she-beast had made a male, even a semi-male, ask for directions! She might as well have asked him to eat quiche. Or admit she was wrong!

They play rough at Emasculation Station all right.

The time flew by and before we knew it, a very tired-looking Daddy appeared at our door. "Did you girls have fun? Looking at your gooey faces, it appears you've become friends."

I blushed. Megan, the little tart, didn't.

"All right my little angels, you'd better clean your faces and get out of those dresses. Dinner will be in 30 minutes and I want you in your play clothes. You can just wash your faces and touch up your lip gloss. You can wear the frilly socks with the play clothes in your middle drawer. And your Mary Janes. Better move it, Ladies."

And he left.

Megan had the biggest boner she had had all day. "He's dreamy, Antoinette," she said. "You're so lucky. If I don't get a man soon, I'm quitting this program and moving to Gingerfredonia, where they appreciate girls like us."

After my stab of jealousy subsided, I decided to comfort, Megan. "You can't have my Daddy, Megan. If you try, only one of us will survive the day. But I'm sure you'll get a Daddy soon. Now we'd better do what Daddy said. I don't want a spanking."

Megan giggled and said, "I wouldn't be so sure of that. Being spanked by your Daddy would be a really interesting experience. But you're right. Unzip me and I'll unzip you."

Maybe a spanking from Daddy would be "fun," I thought. It would be so submissive and sexy. Hmmmm.

Seeing Megan naked for the first time made me wish that we had more time for "play." She had a great sissy body and her nipples were the biggest and puffiest I had seen. We scurried around and fixed our makeup, then I opened my center drawer, right where Daddy said and saw…

There must be some mistake.

There weren't any "play clothes in there. Just two pairs of frilly socks and two pairs of "lowrider," ruffled pettipanties.

Megan saw the look on my face and came over to see what I saw. She drew the proper conclusion more rapidly than I did. "Your daddy has a different idea of what 'play' is than most people," she said.

Modesty was a virtue that was leaving my body as rapidly as my masculinity. "Pink or white pettipanties?" I asked Megan.

"I'll take pink. They'll look better with my white Mary Janes. White will look better with your pink Mary Janes."

She was right. We both looked good enough to eat. Pretty, girlishly- madeup faces. Bare upper-bodies. The world's sissiest, briefest pettipanties. Bare shaved legs and puffy nipples. Totally sissified shoes and socks.

I was hoping Daddy was so excited when he saw me that he would take me to his room and ravage me all night.

No such luck Yet.

Daddy's eyes did light up when Megan and I entered the kitchen where he was working. His Bermuda shorts were badly tented as he stirred the spaghetti sauce.

I looked around for Megan's Auntie, but didn't see her. Probably passed out on the bed from all the fucking Daddy gave her all afternoon. Fucking that rightly belonged to me.

Megan kind of looked for her too until Daddy said, "Your Auntie's gone, Megan. She's off to bedevil the next boy who needs her particular flavor of emasculation. Between us, I think every one of your darlings needs a daddy, from day one. But I don't write the rules."

A very bad thought flashed through my mind. Was Daddy going to be daddy to both of us? Please no!!! I didn't want to share Daddy!

Thankfully, no.

"Megan, you're getting your own Daddy. He'll be here in two-and-a-half hours. Just enough time to feed you and get you dressed pretty for him. Let's eat."

But Megan wasn't listening to that last part. She was squealing and jumping up and down and hugging me. Then hugging Daddy. And rubbing her willie against him. The little tramp!

Daddy eased her off him gently. "You're going to love your new Daddy, Megan. He's sweet and handsome and very loving. Poor Antoinette is stuck with her old Daddy. Your new Daddy is a friend of mine and we'll be getting you girls together for things whenever we can. Young sissies need other young sissies."

Well, that was very nice, wasn't it?

Megan flew through her meal, then ran into my old boy's room, where Daddy had laid out a lovely, sissyish outfit for Megan's debut with her Daddy.

While Megan was dressing and primping, Daddy and I were in the living room kissing and hugging. I was sitting on Daddy's lap and I had unzipped his fly. His big thing was sticking up and I was caressing it sweetly as we kissed. No rush to climax. Just nice, slow, gentle loving.

"Seeing you in that outfit is very stimulating, Antoinette," Daddy said. "You could stiffen every cock in a ten-mile radius."

I glowed with the praise. And forgave Daddy for fucking that "Auntie" person all afternoon.

After an hour or so of kissing Daddy and stroking his cock, he told me he couldn't hold back any more. So I stopped stroking, bent over, and took him in my mouth. Four or five deep sucks and he was cumming in buckets, all down my throat.

I didn't spill a drop!

I was very proud, because neatness counts, you know.

When Daddy's breathing returned to normal, he said, "That was lovely, my Angel. I'm going to get some lube and then ease my hand down the back of your panties and finger your pussy while I kiss you and suck these lovely nipples. Isn't that a good plan?"

Oh yes. Certain plans were especially good. And the best part was that, for the first time, Daddy called my bottomhole a "pussy." Which is what it is, all right.

Daddy's fingers were very naughty "back there" and he sucked my nipples as if he were sucking real titties. Which made me feel extra girlish. Which made me cum so much I drenched my pretty pettipanties twice!

When Daddy and I finished getting reacquainted after his wanton afternoon with "her," we only had about 45 minutes until Megan's new Daddy arrived. I didn't want to meet him with smeared makeup and cum- loaded panties, so I dashed off to take a quick sponge bath while Daddy laid out my clothes.

He found the cutest baby-blue, little-girlish short, frilly nightie for me, with matching bunny slippers. I got it on and gleamed with hope for a fucking when I saw Daddy's lustful looks.

Still not yet.

Daddy helped me with some light makeup, just enough to "brush the boy off," as Daddy said. We finished just in time to answer the doorbell.

We almost got run over in the hallway by a very eager young lady named Megan. She had girlied up beautifully in full sissy mode - a lemon- colored, white-accented-and-petticoated "Sissy Tea Party" dress. Long, shaved, bare legs, ending in the frilliest white socks and white patent-leather Mary-Jane shoes. A pretty yellow ribbon in her boyish hair. Her new "daddy" would eat her up!

Daddy and I watched as Megan answered the door and we all beheld him - Megan's Daddy.

I know my Daddy is the sweetest, most wonderful Daddy in the whole wide world. But Megan's Daddy was GORGEOUS!!!

Blond hair and blue eyes! Tall and muscular, with a sweet, kind face. Broad shoulders. And a big tent in his pants when he saw Megan.

Megan was almost hyperventilating with sissy excitement.

And so was I. Not that I ever wanted to leave my Daddy. It was just nice to see Megan's Daddy. And imagine being in his arms. Allowing him whatever "liberties" he desired.

Which could never happen, of course.

Anyway, Megan had skipped most of the formalities of introduction and was hugging her new daddy in a death grip. He was telling her how pretty and sweet and feminine she was and what wonderful times lay ahead for them. He said nice things to Daddy and me and then [whoosh] Megan and her daddy were gone.

I was happy for her - her "prospecting" days appeared to be over, and she would be into "developmental drilling" from now on. Also, the little slut was away from my Daddy...

Leaving Daddy and me alone.

Looking at each other.

With "that look."

The one that gets us girls exhausted and leaking cum from every bodily orifice.

I could only hope.

Daddy cleared his throat and said, "You know, Kitten, I'm supposed to bathe you and all tonight, but let's leave that for tomorrow. We'll get up in plenty of time to get you washed, fed and ready for church. And except for dressing and entertaining your friends, I don't think you'll be sleeping in your room any more. I think you can sleep with me from now on, all right?"

That was very all right.

"Yes, Daddy," I said, shyly and submissively. "But I go to bed earlier than you do. And it'll be lonely in that big bed without you."

Daddy looked at me with growing respect for my developing feminine skills. "I think we should go to bed at the same time from now on, my Darling Girl. Now seems like an excellent time."

I was going to be fucked! I knew it! I knew it!

I was wrong. But only by less than 24 hours.

Daddy took things in sequence and there was one more bridge to cross before he porked my pootie.

Eagerly, I got into Daddy's bed and lay on my back. All the excitement of the day had my willie standing very tall. I lifted my nightie to give it some air.

Daddy enjoyed the view as he stripped naked as I watched. Which made my tinkler twitch and throb.

Daddy lay on my right side, lying on his left side as he rubbed my stomach and kissed me. Just to tease, he let the back of his hand brush my peenie head now and then. Daddy could see that I was getting very hot and bothered.

Wetting two fingers of his right hand with his mouth, Daddy entered my pussy with the two rude intruders. I was sure that Daddy was loosening me up for the insertion of his quasi-paternal love pole.

Just when I was groaning and panting and about to cum for the first of what I hoped would be many times that wonderful evening, Daddy stopped fingering me and let me cool off.

He actually got out of bed and went into his bathroom, returning with a warm, wet, somewhat soapy thin washcloth and a towel. "Please lift your knees, Baby," he asked. "I'm going to clean you out a bit."

That was odd. Daddy put the washcloth on his finger and entered my pussy with it, rubbing and cleansing the place I "make dirties" with.

It didn't feel half bad. But I hoped the agenda was going beyond that.

It was. Daddy used the towel to dry my "warm hole," then he tossed the washcloth and towel aside and lay on his back next to me, his feet by my head and vice versa.

'Curiouser and curiouser,' as Alice said.

"Straddle me, Antoinette," Daddy said. "That's it. Your face should be even with my penis. Support yourself with your elbows or just lie on me. You're not heavy. Now just ease your pretty bottom down so it's right over my mouth. Just like that. Mmmmm."

Omigosh!!!!!

Daddy had his tongue in my pussy!

Really in my pussy! About a quarter of a mile in. And he was licking and digging like a prospector looking for the mother lode.

Sometimes prospecting could be a very good thing.

I had never felt anything half so wonderful in my life.

It was deliciously dirty! And the most intimate thing one person can do for another.

My poor testicles spasmed and gushed during the first thirty seconds. Then recharged and fired again ten, quivering, squealing, shuddering, screaming minutes later.

Frantic with lust, I took Daddy's manly meat in my mouth and sucked him to a groaning gusher as he maintained his determined assault. I was so distracted that I wasn't able to swallow the "girl's big reward" that Daddy gave me and it ended up all over his flat, hairy stomach.

When Daddy made me cum for a third, wrenching time, I sank my cheek into the small lake of commingled cum on Daddy's stomach and mumbled out a plea to stop before he killed me.

Daddy stopped. Reluctantly.

Exhausted. We both fell asleep.

Sometime during the night, Daddy rearranged me so that we were both on our backs and I was in Daddy's loving arms. An exhausted, cum-ravaged, deliriously happy sissygirl.

The next day, Sunday, Daddy roused me at 7:30. "We have to get you into a condition that churchgoing people can endure looking at," he said. "If anyone saw you now, what would they think?"

Good point, Daddy. I had dried cum all over me. Even in my hair. Especially in my hair. But I was happy. Very happy.

Daddy washed me before he fed me. Then powdered and perfumed me. And dressed me in a dress that any seven-year-old girl would adore. And any ten-year-old girl would believe was "babyish."

It was lilac and white. With frills and lace and ruffles and bows. Lots of white frilly petticoats that swished with my every move.

Well, I guess it pays to advertise. But in church?

And it was short. Really short. Just below my low-rider white pettipanties.

Lacy, white socks. Lilac satin Mary Janes with cute little low French heels. Where did Daddy find this stuff?

Would I survive the day? Would the priest stop the mass and make us leave? Would any gentlemen in the congregation have to use the emergency cardiac-arrest paddles?

We sat in the front row at 11 o'clock mass. Just like the previous week. So everyone could see us. And wonder if the sissyboy who had been with the handsome, masculine man was the beautiful sissygirl with the man that week. Even the priest was sneaking peeks to see if we were the same sissy.

At the sign of peace, Daddy gave me another one of those deep, tonguey kisses that made the parishioners gasp. And made me fill my pettipanties with girl's cream.

It wasn't just the kiss that made me cum. It was the whole humiliating, thrilling situation. And the fact that it was Daddy kissing me as all those people knew I was a sissy with a male lover.

Daddy hadn't brought any extra panties, so I had to endure the wetness. Not to mention the drools of cum that were snaking their way down each of my smooth, bare legs.

I wanted to go home right then, get on my back, lift my knees and give Daddy's cock the time of its life.

But Daddy insisted on taking me to the park, buying me an ice cream cone and two balloons, one purple and one white. And walking with me until we were both tired.

Daddy and I got home around four. He took off my cummy panties and dress, cleaned my privates with a washcloth, dressed me in a pretty robe, and put me down for a nap in my room. I didn't resist. Being constantly emasculated and humiliated can be hard work.

When Daddy awoke me at 6:30, I was refreshed and ready for anything. What I got was fish sticks and mashed potatoes. With apple pie for dessert.

But the best dessert - the one I really wanted - was coming up next.

"Let's get clean," Daddy said.

I liked the sound of that.

The sunken tub was in my room. Daddy filled the tub with scented oils as we stripped naked. We eased ourselves into the warm water and luxuriated in its tingling embrace.

Daddy devoured me with kisses.

I felt loved and girlish and happy.

And unfucked.

It was time.

And Daddy knew it.

Daddy took his time drying, powdering and perfuming me that lovely evening.

He knew what was coming and he knew I knew.

I wasn't sure how he would dress me.

And he kept me waiting, applying a bit of hot pink gloss to my lips and a hint of blush.

Then he went to my room and returned with a delicious, pure silk, white (of course) nightgown that screamed femininity.

I loved looking into Daddy's eyes as he slid it over my head, then admired - no, worshipped me - in the pretty nightie. It had lovely little spaghetti straps with a scalloped bodice and short hem, both trimmed in fine French lace. My nibble-me nipples and pulsating popsie all proudly poked forward through the sheer fabric. I loved sneaking peeks at his expanding man-prick as he brushed and styled my hair.

Then, all the preparation was over and it was time.

Daddy carried me in his manly arms from my bathroom to his bedroom. We entered and I saw that he had illuminated the room with only about fifty candles. Very romantic, Daddy!

There were no rose petals strewn by the bed, but not bad for a guy, don't you think?

Daddy set me down gently then lay his naked body next to mine.

He lifted my nightie, stroked my belly and said, "I've never said this to anyone in the emasculation program before, Antoinette, but I love you. With all my heart. I'm going to make love to you tonight and make you mine forever. You and I will have other partners. You'll probably marry some rich guy some day. But when I plant my seed in you tonight, in all the important ways, you'll be mine and I'll be yours."

[Gulp]

He loved me!

He wanted to "own" me!

I was going to be his possession.

A helpless, squealing sissy, completely submissive to her Lord and Master.

I know it was inappropriate, but I spurted my spermies. Right then. Just from what Daddy said and how I reacted to it.

Daddy was delighted.

"Is it any wonder that I love you?"

I shook my head and said. "I guess not, Daddy. And I love you too."

It was true. Daddy was the man I always wanted, even when I didn't know I wanted a man.

I just wished he would stop talking and stick that big thing in me before I lost my nerve. It didn't seem possible that my tiny pucker could accommodate that monster. But given patience and the right amount of lubrication and dilation, a sissy's scabbard can conquer any man's sword.

At last, Daddy got to work, making the very best use of opportunity and materials at hand. Daddy dipped his fingers into the large, rich deposit of the world's finest lubricant that I had conveniently positioned for him on my belly.

Daddy eased it, fingerload by fingerload, into my tight pussy, lubricating and dilating a bit with each insertion. Satisfied that he had relocated the entire load into my "warm place," Daddy entered me with three fingers. Those naughty digits stretched and poked and dug and drove me wild. Kissing me tonguily as he massaged my tender prostate, Daddy, the rogue, made me cum again.

That seemed to satisfy him. Though it had placed me at Death's Door. These girlish orgasms can really get to a sissyboy. I would need traction to straighten out my toes.

I was on my back, chest heaving, pricklet still oozing goo when he withdrew his fingers.

Rats. I felt so empty. But not for long.

"I'm going to fuck you like a man fucks his woman, Antoinette," Daddy said. "On your back. Let me just ease these pillows under your lower back. That's it. Now just raise your pretty knees up. That's a girl." After pausing to lube up his massive penetrator with my most recent cream deposit, "Let me get into position and….Uhhh."

PAIN!

OWWWW!

Nobody told me!

Wait...

Not so bad.

After the first puncture.

Feels kind of good.

Mmmmm.

Daddy was fucking me.

I was being fucked. Make that Fucked with a capital 'F.'

By Daddy.

A Man. Also with a capital 'M.'

People don't believe me, but at that moment, I had a vision. Of Abby. On the far shore of a riverbank. She was helping me - lifting me - out of the water and onto the riverbank with her. "You've crossed the river, Antoinette," Abby said. "There's no going back. You're one of us now."

The last thing I wanted was to return to the side of the river I had lived on before that day. I was emasculated and delighted.

And enjoying my fucking. Really enjoying my fucking!

I felt so girlish and… full. Daddy's cock was rubbing against my prostate with each stroke and I knew I would be cumming again soon. That was all great.

But the best part - the part I really liked - was giving myself to Daddy. The way a girl would. Giving myself - the very best thing I could offer - to the man I loved.

That was what made me cum the third time - a long, watery dribble with a seismic explosion like the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs.

Then I relaxed a bit and enjoyed the best part. Watching the look of rapture on Daddy's face as he emptied his hot heavy balls into my stretched pussy.

Being a girl is lots of fun, isn't it?

And not just for the girl.

Daddy looked as if he were ready for a ten-hour nap. Or a funeral.

But I was young, randy and freshly fucked.

Daddy looked as happy as he was tired.

When my pussy involuntarily ejected Daddy's big rammer, he rolled over onto his back. Then he gently pulled me toward him, nestling me in his arms.

Daddy and I cuddled and kissed between "love you's."

That was nice. It was sweet.

I wanted more. When I reached down to stroke Daddy's cock, I could feel that he wanted more too.

I removed my nightie, rolled over onto my stomach, wiggled my bottom a little and said, "Please sir, may I have more?"

Twisted, I know. But I said it.

Better yet, it worked.

Daddy eased a pillow under my stomach to improve his angle. Then he straddled my thighs, positioned his weapon and pushed the whole, massive thing in with a single stroke.

I screeched. Then submitted fully to a four-star fucking. Hard strokes. Soft strokes. Pauses to kiss my neck, shoulders and nipples. Occasional bites of the pillow. Prostate torment beyond belief.

I was full. Full of love for Daddy. Full of cock in my bottom. Full of optimism about my future.

Then I was again full of Daddy's thick, sticky, man juice.

Daddy poured out his sperm and semen cocktail, collapsed on me, and rolled us both over so we were on our left sides. Still impaled by Daddy's slowly deflating cock, I endured the delicious torture of Daddy's masterly rubbing of my swollen cock and balls. Daddy made sure our second fuck ended with my nice, toe-blasting orgasm.

On to number three, I thought. But when I heard Daddy's light snoring, I figured it was time to give Daddy a much-needed rest.

He was more than twice my age, after all.

Filled with contentment and Daddy's cock, I fell asleep too. I dreamed sweet, girlish dreams of being fucked by various men I had known in my life. Then I had a vivid dream of being fucked by Daddy. Which turned out not to be a dream.

It was 1:12 a.m. and Daddy was spooned up behind me, just as he had when we fell asleep. Except his cock had regained its full vigor. And it was plowing my furrow very enthusiastically. What a wonderful way to wake up!

Seeing that I was awake, Daddy changed the plan of attack. I whimpered when he pulled his cock out of me. And when he got onto his back, I thought he had decided to go back to sleep.

Wrong.

Daddy's big pole was sticking up.

As if I weighed nothing, Daddy reached over, grabbed me by my hips and rearranged my body so I was facing him, my pussy poised over his stiffie.

"Sit on it, Honey," Daddy said. "Please."

Gladly.

I placed my wrinkled button next to Daddy's wet peephole and wriggled the head past my half-hearted defenses. It felt wonderful. And better when, inch by inch I sat on his thick pole. I wondered if it was how Megan felt when she was in those horrible, degrading, emasculating pole races.

My Daddy degraded and emasculated me too. But it was all for love.

Like the love I felt coming from him as I bobbed up and down on his cock, gyrating my hips in the most obscene manner. And the way he kissed me and tweaked my rock-hard nipples as I clenched his cock with my pussy.

I loved the way my balls rubbed against Daddy's thick pubic hair. And the way Daddy rubbed my bottom cheeks so nicely with his hands as we fucked.

Fucking is a whole body experience.

And a finite one.

We grappled erotically for about a half hour, then exchanged thick, creamy loads and fell asleep once again.

The next morning, we awoke at 6:12 and Daddy introduced me to the doggy position.

Arf.

I thought we would spend a week or two in bed. Fucking whenever Daddy's thing got stiff.

But Daddy had promises to keep to Emasculation Station.

We had an agenda.

Every weekday morning at nine, Daddy would drop me off at Emasculation Station. For eight hours each day, I learned how to apply cosmetics and do my hair, dress girlie, walk girlie and talk girlie. Every evening at five, Daddy would pick me up, waiting with all the other daddies, then take me home and fuck me until we passed out.

Was that a great agenda, or what?

I really enjoyed the training. And the fucking, of course. I met lots of nice girls and got to spend oodles of time with Megan especially. Along the way I began to permanently lose all my ugly boy hair and had my lengthening hair highlighted and permed. Life was good. Laser treatments even better.

Megan and I got to take "tickle breaks" during the day, but only when we were so "steamy" that we couldn't wait for our daddies to "empty our bags" when we got home at night.

Every night when Daddy picked me up he always greeted me with a big kiss and hug. And a good "feel-up" as well. Sometimes Megan's Daddy would arrive a bit earlier than Daddy, so I got to see their greeting.

They always greeted each other VERY enthusiastically, just as Daddy and I did. Sometimes I had naughty thoughts about "being with" Megan's Daddy. Not rejecting my Daddy or anything. NEVER!

But I was feeling stirrings. Stirrings about being with other men. Seeing the world. Being hospitable to lots of nice men.

That's normal, isn't it?

Speaking of normal, after a week of pre-teen, birthday-party dresses, I was ready for some normal girls' clothes. I sort of mentioned that to Daddy "between innings" one night that first girlie week.

That was the first time I realized that Daddy could be quite agreeable to what I wanted. I was a lot more powerful than I had first imagined. Being submissive and emasculated didn't mean I was without influence and power. In fact, as our relationship evolved, Daddy seemed more and more willing to do anything I wanted to keep me happy. Short of deviating substantially from the Emasculation Station program.

Daddy stopped dressing me in those frilly sissy-party dresses the Saturday two weeks after my birthday party.

Not on that actual day, since I was naked all that day. With Daddy's big cock up my bottom more often than not.

The next day, Sunday, we went to eleven o'clock mass as always. Daddy dressed me in a pretty pink dress, with pleated skirts and no petticoats. My hem was at mid-thigh. I wore white cotton knee socks and pink pumps with a two-inch heel. For the first time, Daddy let me wear eye make-up - just a little volumizer for the eyelashes and some eyeliner.

I looked very hot! Again, we sat in the front row and kissed deeply at the sign of peace. Father must have been happy, since attendance had increased sharply since we started going there together.

That afternoon, Daddy took me for ice cream and, wonder of wonders, no one stared. They looked. Lots of them looked at me. The way a man looks at a cute girl. But we had finally returned to the "normal zone."

Still, most of the onlookers probably figured us for father and daughter - not lovers.

Daddy took me to the mall that Sunday too. And got my ears pierced with pretty gold buttons.

Those next few weeks were magnificent.

I liked the training sessions a lot, though I still think it would have been more fun to spend all day, every day with Daddy. Daddy seemed quite happy to have me "occupied" during the weekdays, though we spent all day, every Saturday, fucking. Sunday was church and "field trip" day. Museums. Parks. Once we went to a baseball game. Anywhere we could be out in public with people, especially men, looking at us seemed to fit Daddy's plan.

I think Daddy liked me being gone on weekdays for two reasons.

First, I don't think he wanted to die young. Daddy once told me on a Saturday night that his balls felt as if they had been horsewhipped. Pleasantly horsewhipped, he quickly added. Daddy had great, but finite stamina.

Second, I think he was doing something while I was gone. At first I thought it was sex things. Like being with another sissy! Or a woman, like that Amazon Auntie of Megan's. But I abandoned that theory when I saw how ready and randy Daddy was for me very evening. And his cock never tasted of "foreign invasions."

My other theory was that he had a…and I hate to use this awful word…job. Was he working 9 to 5 (what a way to make a living!)? Wasn't his work with me enough to keep him in room and board?

I should have asked, but Daddy always deflected personal questions about himself.

Another important development during that period, two developments, actually, were my titties. It was too early to call them that, really, but because of the daily vitamin shots Daddy gave me were puffing up my nipples and making some flesh begin to form under them.

Another sign that I was approaching the far side of the River Sissicon.

Daddy adored my developing titties. He told me that in a few months I would have good reason to wear a bra, though he had already started me on a largely useless training bra.

By mid-October, I was dressing like a teenaged girl. Albeit a teenaged girl circa 1962. Always skirts and pretty tops, usually with round collars and those strange circle pins. I longed to wear sexy heels, high and pencil-size. And stockings. Yummy, fully-fashioned, reinforced-heel-and-toe, seamed stockings. I started to become obsessed with garter belts. Paired with the come-fuck-me heels and my lovely legs, they would make even 21^st-Century men wolf-whistle.

But Daddy was very strict. "Those are Phase Three clothes, Antoinette," he would say. "You need to complete Phase Two first."

However, with time the boring knee socks and flats gave way to opaque nylon thigh-highs and two-and-a-half-inch, thick-heel, Mary Janes (though they were teaching me how to move easily in five-, even six- inch stilettos at Emasculation Station).

I had formed the impression that Daddy didn't want me to finish my training because he was in love with me and didn't want our relationship to end.

That would never happen! I'll always love Daddy.

One Thursday night in late October, Daddy picked me up and kissed me and felt me up, just like he always did.

We got into the car and I was happily chatting away about my progress in "Flirting" classes. As I often did, I freed Daddy's cock from his pants and began to give it a nice cuddle as we talked. Not enough to make him cum, though I sometimes sucked and swallowed a nice load before we got home. I love the extra-creamy cums Daddy makes when he hasn't "had any" for several hours.

It really is the ideal after-school snack!

I was seriously considering just such a maneuver when I noticed that Daddy was taking a different route home. We frequently went out to dinner at nice diner Daddy and I liked. But we weren't going that way either.

"Where are we going, Daddy?" I asked.

For better or for worse, Daddy loved surprising me. "We're having dinner with your parents tonight, Honey. They invited us."

[Choke]

I was going to be paraded in front of my parents in full girlie mode? Without warning? With my male, very male, gentleman lover?

They would see me in a white, shiny cotton round collared blouse; red- tartan, pleated skirt that was almost a mini; two-and-a-half-inch, black patent-leather Mary Jane-style pumps: and white opaque stockings with cute satin bows?

"It's better I didn't tell you in advance, Antoinette." Daddy said. "You would have been obsessed with it for days. I call your Mom three or four times a week about your progress. She's very sweet. They need to see you. It's time."

Daddy and my Mom were phone buddies? The fabric of the universe was tearing.

I was about to protest, but Daddy was pulling into the driveway of the house where I grew up.

"Reach into the back seat, Baby," Daddy said. "I brought flowers and an apple pie for dessert."

I decided right then and there that Daddy wasn't getting any pussy that night.

Strike that. Less pussy. Couldn't punish myself too much. I really needed a sperm injection or two, or three.

I held onto the flowers and Daddy's arm as we walked to the door. Daddy held the apple pie. Thank goodness he had remembered to put his cock back in his pants.

I guess we could have just walked in, but Daddy rang the bell.

A smiling Mom appeared. "Oh, Antoinette. How lovely you are! Really even better than I dared imagine. Who's Mommy's favorite little pantyboy now?"

Mom hugged me and made me feel like a million bucks. Daddy was restored to full pussy rights.

When Mom broke the embrace, she said, "Come in, you two. "Stan! Antoinette and Vincent are here."

Vincent. Daddy's name was Vincent?

Dad appeared and hugged me too, telling how beautiful and feminine I was. He sat down quickly thereafter, seemingly fiddling with his pants front. Strange.

Daddy, AKA Vincent, would be getting extra pussy that night.

We had a lovely evening, punctuated by lavish praise for my beauty and femininity and for Daddy's role in achieving both. And Mom's best Polish canned ham, mashed potatoes and canned corn.

Mom asked "Vincent" how his consulting business was going. So that was what he did all day! It took a mother to extract a full confession. I was going to have to add that to my skill set if I was to be truly feminine.

Mom and I cleaned up the dishes, putting the leftovers all securely away in Tupperware. As we were doing so, she took to opportunity to chat.

"Sweetie, I must apologize that I never, never-ever, should have let you get out of your cherished toddler girlie clothes. I really am sorry for letting you pathetically play at being a boy for all those years. However, your father insisted, and I - the good little wife - agreed. We really didn't know any better, although my instincts told me different things."

"Mom," I replied, "what happened to change you?"

"Well, sweetie, first of all, it was how instinctively totally femmy you were. Even your father couldn't deny that! Then he discovered "Panty Boy" Magazine. The poor dear hasn't been the same since. Although he certainly is easier to control"

A magazine dedicated to us? This I had to find out more about!

At nine o'clock, Mom said, "I'm sure you two have things to 'discuss' at home." And she gave Daddy one of those looks she used to give Dad when I was a little kid and they went "upstairs to wrestle" as Mom described it.

Creepy thought - Mom was maybe five years older than Daddy. Was she flirting with him? Well good for Mom. Flirting keeps you "in the game." Though she had better find a different game board. I was playing monopoly with Daddy Vinnie.

When we got in the car, I gave Daddy a deep, tonguey kiss and said, "Drive quickly. I've never wanted you so much in my life."

It was true. I was delighted that Daddy had worked so hard to communicate with my parents so they would fully accept me. He was a great guy all around.

And I made sure he was all around my pussy that night. And the next morning. Until he dropped the second bomb.

We had just finished an especially vigorous wake-up fuck. I was on my back, enjoying Daddy's kisses and the naughty feeling of his manly milk oozing from my freshly-fucked bottom. I knew it would make me late for my classes and Daddy late for his "consulting" but lust knows no such boundaries. I was about to make myself irresistible to Daddy when he said, "It's time you move to Stage Three. I would keep you like this, with me, forever, if I could. But it's time you moved up. Miss Crushman has been suggesting it to me for a couple of weeks now. And I don't want to disappoint her."

I should say not. Daddy being fired from his part-time job as Emasculation Station counselor would be disastrous for him and for the Sissies of the World.

I had mixed feelings about leaving a very nice status quo. Life with Daddy was fantastic. But I was tired of being a teenager (though I had turned nineteen only a few weeks earlier). I wanted to be a full- fledged, gown-up, better-than-a-GG-woman.

Daddy went on. "There is one little requirement before you move up. You'll have to spend a weekend with another daddy. We call it the Daddy Exchange program. And since Megan is ready to move up too, I was hoping you could stay with Megan's Daddy this weekend and Megan could stay with me."

My first reaction was one of pure jealousy. I would agree, but Daddy would have to spend the weekend tending to the claw marks I would be giving Megan when I saw her at Emasculation Station. Nobody was going to spend a "sperm-exchange" weekend with MY Daddy!

But then I cooled a bit [well, actually heated a bit in a part well south of my brain] and thought, I would be spending a weekend with the planet's most gorgeous hunk-daddy. He would take me to his bed and torment my prostate with his stiff, thick cock for 48 hours. I would suck his cock and swallow his creamy loads. And he would make me cum maybe twenty times!!! The first day!

Plus, it was part of the program and I didn't have any choice. So it wasn't my fault. I was being FORCED into tartiness.

I looked at Daddy woefully and sniffled, "All right, Daddy. If I HAVE to." [Sniffle]

Daddy spent the next ninety minutes consoling me and, for the first time, I was late for classes.

That afternoon, I was wearing a pretty, but conservative grey dress with pink trim and buttons. Daddy didn't want me looking too sexy, I guessed. Megan was dressed down too. Neither Daddy wanted to offer the other much from his own little sexpot.

I had an overnight case with clothes and lingerie and make-up - my first sleep away since becoming a girl. Though I didn't think sleep was high on the agenda.

Megan and I giggled all day about what was on deck for us, and by five o'clock, we were jumping out of our skins with excitement. I told Megan that my Daddy was sweet and loving. She said her Daddy was too, but I could get a "rough ride" if I wanted one.

Ooooh. Rough seemed nice.

I told Megan she could call my Daddy "Uncle Vincent." She suggested I call her Daddy "Uncle Teddy." "I don't know if that's his name, but he's a rough rider," Megan counseled sagely.

At five on the dot, both daddies showed up for the exchange weekend. Daddy looked at me a bit sadly. It would be our first night apart in more than three months. I would make it up to Daddy when he got me back at five o'clock Sunday afternoon. Assuming that little slut Megan left any of Daddy for me.

I looked shyly at my "daddydate" for the weekend. Omigosh he was beautiful! And about ten years younger than Daddy.

He kissed me respectfully on the cheek and said, "Shall we go, my Dear?"

Already I was his "dear."

I turned to see Daddy's reaction to the kiss, but he and Megan were already walking out, hand-in-hand.

Well.

I guessed they were already in the spirit of things.

I took Uncle's hand and he walked me to his car. He was full of compliments about my beauty and femininity. A girl can't hear enough about that. And a guy will say anything to get laid.

We were at his place in about ten minutes. I certainly didn't extend him the courtesy of stroking his bare cock as he drove. That was just for my Daddy.

And his apartment wasn't as nice as Daddy's either. Just one bedroom, though the bed was the size of a small country.

He had dinner all prepared. Tacos, rice and frijoles. Well-cooked. Tasty. Though I was a bit distracted by Uncle's attractiveness.

He asked me a lot of questions about my favorite subject - me. When we cleaned the dishes, it was 6:34 - time to extend my favors beyond just one man.

"Would you like to change into something more comfortable, Antoinette?" he asked.

I remembered that Daddy had packed some outfits for me. "I brought things, Uncle," I said.

"You can wear those if you wish, but I have a nice outfit for you if you would like that."

Cooperation with gorgeous men was inherent in my sissy nature. "OK, Uncle," I said.

Uncle led me to the bedroom and showed me my outfit.

Bad girl lingerie. The kind I had worn to fuck Abby several months earlier. Only nicer stuff.

A black, diaphanous, sheer babydoll nightie with thin spaghetti straps that held me so tight. Its elasticized bodice perfectly displayed my budding boobies and could be easily lowered to fully expose the tiny, but succulent, titties. The babydoll had cute pink satin bows at where the straps met the bodice.

However, the best part was exactly what I had been aching to wear: sheer black, fully-fashioned, seamed, reinforced-heel-and-toe stockings attached with pink satin-covered clasps to a black, ruffled with pink lace, four-strap garter belt that fit firmly about my slender waist. The combination of the suspenders and high stockings perfectly framed my "assets," front and rear. It all perfectly complemented the black patent, five-inch-stiletto, fuck-me pumps. No panties were in sight.

There indeed would be skyrockets tonight! In flight, even. And with daddy-delight!

I trembled at the thought of being ravaged in such an outfit.

Then, under Uncle's lustful stare, I stripped naked and dressed to thrill.

Remembering the lessons of my flirting classes, I dressed slowly. Hiding my pretty parts as well as I could, with occasional flashes of my popsie and pussy to reward the attentive. Attaching the suspenders was sheer ballet - in slow motion.

Uncle dressed too. He stripped naked. Oooooooh! That manly broad, muscular chest and rippled abs! To die for! He then put on a black, silk, shortie kimono that barely covered his naughty bits.

And his naughty bits were BIG bits.

It was 7:03 and my time was at hand. Uncle sat in a comfy chair and invited me to join him. I wiggled over, shaking my bottom as I minced in my big heels, and plopped on his lap.

I felt so girlish. I felt so naughty. And I felt so desirable.

Uncle said, "Vincent tells me your titties are coming along nicely. He gave me your vitamins for your shots tomorrow and Sunday. May I see how they're developing?"

I was pretty much completely open to suggestion. I nodded.

Uncle slowly drew down my nightie's bodice to frame my perky peaks, exposing my emerging nipples. Now every "asset" was framed for function - the perfect pantyboy fuck-toy!

Uncle gasped in appreciation. I liked that. Then he kissed each one. Then licked each one. Then sucked each one. I liked it all and swooned in appreciation

"Those are coming along beautifully, Antoinette," he said. "You're going to be a real brabuster some day."

The thought of having "big ones" was very exciting to me. As was what he was doing as he worshiped each nipple orally. He didn't stop and I was so excited and I loved what I was wearing and he didn't even touch my peenie, but in no time flat I was cumming hard.

We were off to a good start.

To show him I appreciated his efforts, I opened my mouth and invited Uncle's lips and tongue. He accepted.

He was a really good kisser. Enthusiasm and technique. And as we kissed, he kind of rubbed the cream from my first cum all over my testicles and my pricklet.

Which produced my second cum.

We were off to a really good start.

I decided it was time to suck his prick.

But Uncle wanted to put his prick in my pussy.

Uncle won.

Apparently, Uncle considered the many hours he had dreamed of fucking me (and the two orgasms he had just given me) to be nearly sufficient foreplay.

To ensure that I was ready for his welcome advances, Uncle had me put my hands on his bed and lean over. It wasn't easy to balance myself like that in five-inch heels, but I could see in the mirror how sexy and vulnerable I looked in that position.

Uncle gasped when he saw me like that. Then he shucked off his robe, leaving himself naked, and got on his knees behind me.

For the next 45 minutes, Uncle alternated between eating my pussy and sucking my balls. I came twice, screaming like a baby singing opera.

Judging me ready, Uncle stood up and entered me completely with one steady stroke.

My eyes widened! I gasped for air. And squeaked in mild protest.

Being fully seated, Uncle began to fuck me in earnest. He kept me bent over, holding my hips so I wouldn't lose my balance in my skyscraper heels.

And he fucked me hard.

Harder than Daddy ever did.

He used me.

He degraded me.

I was in love!

I was totally dominated and helpless. A squealing sissy at the mercy of her forceful lover.

It was fantastic!

When Uncle filled me with so much sperm that my bottom sloshed, he pushed me forward so we were on the bed. His full weight was on me. I was pinned and powerless.

Uncle's youth was kind to him. And me. Within moments. His manly pole swelled again and he was fucking me with a purpose - orgasms all around,

Mission accomplished.

Uncle took me to a different planet that lovely weekend. The planet Lovehard. And he taught me that each man loved his lovers differently. Some were sweet and gentle - like Daddy. And I adored that style of love. Some were dominant lovepistons - like Uncle. I adored that style of love too.

I knew that there were lots of other styles out there too. I resolved to investigate them all.

When Uncle returned me to Daddy on Sunday night, I kissed Daddy and hugged him and submitted to him three times that evening.

Neither of us spoke about what had happened when we were apart. Though we both looked a little worse for wear from the experience.

 

 

Chapter Six - Emasculation Phase Three - Toni

That next Monday morning at breakfast, Daddy told me I had been advanced to the final phase of emasculation.

"No more classes at Emasculation Station, Sweetheart. You'll be dressing like a grown-up woman and doing things on your own. You'll be living with me for now, but you can move out whenever you wish. I'll be your advisor and lover as long as you like. But no more humiliations, Toni."

Yet another surprise.

"Daddy," I said. "I can't leave you. I love you. And why are you calling me by my boy name again?"

"Oh, no, Kitten," Daddy said. "T-O-N-I is your woman name. You're emasculated. You get a big girl's name now. And believe me, I love you too. I don't want you to ever leave me. But you will. You'll get a job - Emasculation Station will find you one. Probably as a receptionist for a law firm, where you'll have men drooling all over you. Younger associates with sperm to burn and older partners with money to burn. Lawyers are so good a fucking people anyway. It's a natural place for you to start.

You'll learn to live as a woman. I'll help. Emasculation Station will help. And someone waiting in the hallway will help."

Daddy opened the apartment door.

It was Abby!

We hugged and kissed.

"Welcome to the other side, Toni," she said.

My masculinity was completely gone.

Good riddance!

 

NOTE: My sincere thanks to sissy stevie, my collaborator on this story and an all-around great pantyboy. Two heads were better than one on this one, as stevie skillfully spiced up the dressing and the sex.

Please tell stevie, me or both of us what you think at prissysissystevie@yahoo.com or gingerfred2005@yahoo.com

  

  

  

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