In the Nursery
by Christina Shelly
Aunt Valerie climbed the last flight of stairs of the five bedroom Victorian house that had been her home for the last twenty years. Dressed in a high necked, cream coloured silk blouse with white pearl buttons, a pearl choker wrapped around her slender, silk encased throat, a knee-length, black velvet skirt, very sheer black nylon tights and four inch, stiletto heeled court shoes, she was a vision of mature beauty. She would be fifty in two weeks time, but remained a strikingly handsome woman, with large, still firm breasts, long, shapely legs and an impressively trim waistline. She wore her black, silver streaked hair in a tight bun held in place by a beautiful, butterfly shaped diamond clasp. Crimson coloured lipstick covered her full, sensually soft lips, and a hint of peach coloured eye shadow helped draw attention to her lovely, dark brown eyes.
At the top of the steep, narrow flight of stairs was a somewhat aged white door, its dulled paint peeling, the curved bronze door handle faded. The room beyond the door had once been the servants' quarters. Now it was the nursery in which her teenage nephew, Christopher – now Chrissie - had been locked securely night and day for the last two months.
Finally stepping onto the small landing by the door, she took a long, gold coloured key from her skirt and slowly slipped it into the door's large, ancient lock. Her lovely lips curved into a satisfied smile as she unlocked the door and then pushed it open.
Chrissie's angry squeals exploded out of the deep darkness of the nursery. He had been tied up in the playpen for nearly three hours and was no doubt very uncomfortable, especially given the constant buzzing of the vibrator.
The heavy, scarlet coloured velvet curtains had been chosen to ensure the need for complete darkness even during the sunniest of days. The glass in the window beyond was frosted and thick metal bars had been fitted to the recently installed steel frame, but the importance of prolonged periods of sensory training meant even the fractured light they allowed into the room was far too great.
Aunt Valerie instinctively felt for the light switch and the room was suddenly flooded with a soft, pink tinted light and the nursery revealed in all its spectacular, humiliating glory.
Two weeks before Chrissie's arrival, she had had the room painted a striking hot pink. The dull grey carpet had been replaced with thick, white rubber tiles. Two large, mahogany wardrobes had been installed, along with a whole wall of wooden shelves. A large, very ornate dressing table with a striking, silver framed oval mirror had been placed beneath the carefully curtained window.
The shelves were lined with the instruments of Chrissie's transformation. There was a collection of the special pacifier gags that Sister Amelia had procured from a friend who specialised in clothing and accessories for adult babies, each with a heart shaped plastic plate, each fitted with a surprisingly fat, long and ribbed clear rubber teat, each teat shaped exactly like a large, circumcised penis. And attached to each side of the plate was a length of white silk ribbon.
As well as the kinky pacifiers, there were a number of extra large baby's bottles, each made of clear plastic and fitted with fat, clear rubber teats. Each was capable of holding a litre of Sister Amelia's "special formula". Also upon the shelves were many neatly coiled lengths of pink rubber coated cording, three thick rolls of silver duct tape, two neatly folded piles of extra large nappies, a disturbing variety of pink coloured dildoes and vibrators, plus fat, pink rubber ball gags and numerous items of medical equipment that Sister Amelia used for Chrissie's daily enema treatments.
Between the shelves and the wardrobes, were two tall chests of drawers, each neatly packed with Chrissie's vast variety of underwear, including a spectacular array of ultra-frilly silk panties of every colour, tights, stockings, ankle socks, petticoats, plastic panties and fingerless, rubber lined mittens made from expensive pink silk.
In the centre of the room was the cot and by its side, the playpen. Both had been designed by Sister Amelia and constructed by a master furniture maker. The wooden cot, made from strong, white painted wood, was adult-sized, with long, barred sides. It held a thick, pink rubber mattress that was tightly wrapped in a cream coloured silk bed sheet. The circular playpen was made from the same tough, but elegantly finished wood, and kneeling in its centre was the strange, tormented figure of Baby Chrissie.
Chrissie's eighteenth birthday was in two weeks, yet the figure wiggling and squealing so desperately in the playpen had been very carefully dressed to resemble a 3 year old girl. He was perhaps 5 foot and six inches tall, slightly built and in male clothing might have appeared slightly effeminate. But in the bizarre ensemble that was now his permanent attire, he could only be described as ultra-effeminate!
The spectacular centrepiece of this feminine attire was a beautiful, elaborate pink silk dress. With a very high, pearl button up neck edged with chin tickling white lace, gloriously puffed up sleeves and a very short skirt lined with many layers of delicate lace petticoating, the dress was a masterpiece of sissification, a fact made more apparent by the long line of pearl buttons that travelled from the base of the dress to the nape of the neck.
Over the dress had been positioned a lovely, white cream silk pinafore, also edged with lace. The pinafore was tied in place with a fat silk bow at the base of the dress and across the chest of the pinafore, in delicate strawberry coloured writing, were sown the words "Baby Chrissie".
Through the layers of petticoating, a pair of bulging, pink and semi-transparent plastic panties could just be seen, bulging because poor Chrissie was tied very tightly into a fat, adult sized, towel nappy secured with an extra large silver safety pin. Also visible through the petticoating were the intricately decorated tops of the very sheer white nylon stockings that encased his long, feminine legs and the pink satin, lace and elastic garters that held the sexy stockings in place.
His hands had been forced into rubber lined, fingerless mittens made from the same striking pink silk as the dress, and his delicately stockinged feet were sealed in delightful pink silk booties. His arms had been forced behind his back and tied very tightly and painfully together with lengths of pink rubber coated cording at his wrists and elbows. His legs had also been bound with more of the cording at the knees and ankles, and a further length of cording ran from his tethered wrists to his ankles, thus forcing him into an uncomfortable kneeling "hog-tie".
His head had been shaven on his first day of his stay with Aunt Valerie. A variety of little girl style wigs resting on plastic stands were kept in a neat row on a shelf in one of the wardrobes, but today he was without the benefit of such humiliating head wear. No, today he was as bald as a new born baby, and, as was often her kinky way, Aunt Valerie has stretched a scented, white sheer nylon stocking over his head and face and carefully tucked it in beneath the high neck of the dress. Through the stocking his features were those of a babified bank robber, and a length of thick silver duct tape was clearly visible through the film of nylon stretched tight across his strawberry painted lips. The tape sealed his lips shut and held in place a gag made from a pair of Aunt Valerie's soiled panties.
Over his stockinged head was secured a very beautiful and spectacular baby's bonnet of the same expensive and delicate pink silk as the gorgeous, bizarre dress. This was bound in place at his nylon sheathed chin by two lengths of pink silk ribbon tied in a pretty and very fat sissy bow.
Tears of despair and desperation had soaked through the nylon mask to create two large damp panda eye patches that added to the absurdity of poor Chrissie's visage.
His own eyes were now wide with anger and indignation and his well gagged squeals brought a smile of satisfaction to Aunt Valerie's lovely face.
'Now, now, babikins,' she cooed, taking a small metal box from a pocket in her skirt, 'I don't want to have to warm up that sexy little bottom of yours.'
Fear suddenly filled poor Chrissie's eyes and he fell silent with a very obvious reluctance.
Aunt Valerie laughed and put the box back into the skirt pocket. She then opened the play pen gate and gently lowered herself onto her knees before him. As she did so, her skirt rode up her very shapely legs to reveal a pair of firm, black hosed thighs and Chrissie's released a moan of helpless arousal. Her powerful rose scented perfume filled his hosed nostrils and the anger in his eyes quickly melted away. He stared hungrily at her large, impressive chest, which was now only a few feet from his own sissified form, and the buzzing of the vibrator was once again audible.
Aunt Valerie then lent forward to check a large glass tank that was placed by Chrissie's left side. Before leaving him earlier that afternoon, she had fed him three litres of Sister Amelia's formula, and during the course of his dark imprisonment he had urinated most of it back into the tank via a tube that ran from it, up beneath his petticoats and into the rubber sheath that was stretched tightly over his permanently hard sex. Although constantly nappied, the need for a regular supply of urine meant that the nappy was basically only a symbol of his total subjugation.
As well as the glass tank, there was a further smaller tank of black metal positioned beneath the tethered form of Baby Chrissie. Another, slightly thicker rubber tube ran from this and once again disappeared into Chrissie's petticoating. This tube ran into the rear of the nappy and was connected directly to the computer controlled vibrator lodged deep inside his back passage.
The vibrator was, without doubt, Sister Amelia's masterpiece. Essentially, a perfectly hollow piece of phallic shaped plastic driven by a battery operated micro motor, it was able to emit powerful vibrations deep into his anus. These vibrations could be most pleasurable when set at the standard level, but thanks to the special nature of the plastic used, they could also run at a much higher speed that heated the plastic and created significant discomfort! At the same time, the hollow tube at the core of the vibrator allowed the flow of waste materials through its body and into the connected rubber tube and then down to the metal tank.
Satisfied that the glass tank contained enough urine for a new patch of formula, Aunt Valerie returned her attention to her long suffering, desiring nephew. She smiled lovingly and began slowly to unbutton her blouse. Poor Chrissie squealed furiously into his fat, unyielding gag and Valerie's smile widened.
'There, there Chrissie. You've been a very good girl this afternoon, so I think it's only fair I let you have a little treat before Amelia brings up your evening feed.'
At the mention of the feed, Chrissie shook his head angrily, his tear stained eyes wide with horror and outrage. But then Aunt Valerie slowly pulled her blouse apart to reveal a pair of gorgeous, plump breasts imprisoned tightly in a sexy, white laced edge silk brassiere. Chrissie feel silent and the film of a savage, irresistible desire once again covered his pretty baby girl eyes.
She then hitched the skirt up even higher so that that her lovely panties were clearly on display, as well as all her impressive, nylon sheathed thighs.
'Don't worry, babikins, you'll soon have titties as big and sexy as mine. Bigger in fact. Won't that be lovely? I bet you can't wait.'
But there was now little response from poor Chrissie. He was deep inside the sex trance which Sister Amelia's fiendish medication ensured was his almost permanent companion. Ever since his arrival, the drugs had guaranteed that he remained constantly erect and always filled will a powerful sexual need. The channelling of this need into a deeply masochistic and fetishistic sexuality was at the core of the treatment, and there was little doubt that, despite his surprisingly tough resistance, he was slowly descending into a bottomless pit of erotic submission and transvestism from which he would never escape. And this was exactly what she wanted.
At the time her sister, Barbette, had told her of the terrible behavioural difficulties she was experiencing with Christopher, Valerie had only recently heard about the feminisation therapy offered by "Sister Amelia", a qualified medical practitioner who had invented a fascinating and deeply kinky method for controlling wayward males. The two sisters had quickly agreed Christopher would be an ideal candidate. He had always been close to his Aunt, and his growing sexual attraction to her had been painfully obvious during her last visit. He had sat opposite her one evening, his eyes drinking up her mature beauty, and she had encouraged him with carefully crossed legs and teasing smiles. After this, it had been easy. She had invited him to stay at her house for the Easter holidays. He had accepted without hesitation. Twenty minutes after his arrival, she had fed him a meal laced with a powerful sedative and four hours after this he had awoken fully babified and secured in the Nursery.
Sister Amelia's services didn't come cheaply, but her expertise was unquestionable. The regime she had established was robust and devastatingly effective. She guaranteed complete obedience within three months and full feminisation within six.
The first three months were to be spent "destroying the exiting male identity and replacing it with the Sissy Persona". The Sissy Persona was at the very heart of her treatment regime, and radical babification was the essential foundation for its construction.
Sister Amelia has encouraged Valerie to add her own "touches" to the process, and this she had done with great enthusiasm. Almost immediately, she had recognised that Christopher had a very strong fetish for tights and stockings. Whilst staying at Barbette's house she had noticed on more than one occasion that the silly boy had attempted to investigate the drawers that contained her hose, and she had made a point of discussing her tights with him in a casual but teasing manner. Referring idly to need to buy fresh tights, or the need to wash tights, or even, one daring occasion, mentioning how soft her new tights felt and how unlucky men were that they couldn't wear them. And each time poor Chrissie had turned bright red with embarrassment and his eyes had filled with the sex mist of a frustrated and angry teenage boy. Subsequently, once he was totally in her control, she had ensured he was constantly imprisoned in tights or stockings. She had also had a very special body stocking of sheer white nylon developed, which he wore most nights under his satin sleep suit, and she was constantly imprisoning his head in tight stocking hoods. On top of this, she had also had a pair of very special white nylon "milking gloves" made for the nightly ritual of relief that was another important part of Sister Amelia's therapy.
Chrissie's reaction to this "submersion" in hose had been powerful and pleasing: a furious and utterly helpless arousal, a terrible, involuntary sexual pleasure that overwhelmed all resistance to this strange imprisonment in baby clothes. Even as he squealed and struggled against the various dark humiliations that were his daily lot, he could never escape his deep, deep love of hose. And this is how they would gradually wear him down: by using his desire to control him, by turning his core male sexual need into the weapon that would ensure his complete feminisation.
The fact that both she and Sister Amelia always made sure to wrap their own impressive legs in the sheerest of nylon, only added to the power of their totalitarian regime of female control. Poor Chrissie didn't stand a chance.
As Chrissie feasted his nylon sheathed eyes on his aunt's splendid bosom and thighs, she whispered teasing words.
'Do you like my new tights, Chrissie? I bought them yesterday. A very fine denier, and so gloriously soft. A perfect fit as well, especially around my waist and between the legs. They were made in Italy. Aren't they lovely? And just think, when you're a big girl, I can take you shopping for tights just like these. Those sexy legs of yours will look so good. You'll drive all the boys wild. And won't that be lovely? Imagine all your old friends competing for your affections. Not that any of them could have you, of course. Oh no, we intend to find you a nice, well behaved boyfriend.'
Chrissie moaned louder and wiggled helplessly in his tight sissy bondage. The vibrator buzzed deep in his arse and the inescapable fact of the pleasure he now received from anal stimulation was expressed, despite himself, in his wide, sex filled eyes.
Yes, another very important part of Sister Amelia's therapy was "object re-orientation". Although it would be vital that heterosexual desire remained at the heart of Chrissie's sexuality, it was also important that he relinquished all hope of ever having a woman sexually. His desire for his aunt would always be the powerhouse of his transformation, but the final symbol of his utter subjugation would be his physical surrender to a male lover. At the moment, this remained an area of resistance, but the re-channelling of pleasure from the penis to the anus would, along with the emergence and development of his fetishism and submissive desires, eventually overcome all doubt and struggle.
Then the door to the Nursery opened and Sister Amelia entered carrying a large sliver tray containing three litre bottles of her special formula and a syringe.
Poor Chrissie looked up from his gorgeous, teasing aunt and beheld this new vision with a mixture of very real fear and an equally powerful sexual attraction. For Sister Amelia was a stunning and quite terrifying woman, a woman the reluctant sissy had learned to fear and to obey without question.
As usual, she was dressed in white, the uniform of a nurse of enforced feminisation and also a sister of the order of female control. A glorious, dark skinned beauty, a plump, but also shapely woman in her mid-forties. A beautiful, regal West Indian who had dedicated the last ten years of her life to the intricate feminisation of the wayward male. Three quarters Negro and one quarter Caucasian, with soul melting honey brown eyes and full, blood red lips, her skin like an exquisite mixture of velvet and milk chocolate, she radiated erotic power and an unquestionable authority.
The tight nurse's uniform accentuated her splendidly ample form to perfection, displaying most effectively her very large, matronly bosom, her wide hips and her large but still shapely bottom. The dress had a surprisingly short skirt, which revealed two very long, firm legs sealed in sheer white nylon tights and feet resting in white patent leather, 5 inch stiletto heeled court shoes. Her jet black hair, naturally straight, was bound into a tight bun, upon which rested a simple white nurse's cap. Over her long, elegant hands she wore white silk gloves.
'How's our little darling this afternoon?' she asked, her voice deep, American accented and so very sexy.
Aunt Valerie smiled. 'Oh, he's very well, Amelia. Perhaps a little hot and bothered. But nothing too serious.'
Poor Chrissie moaned like a terrified kitten as Sister Amelia entered the playpen and then set the tray down on top of the glass tank.
'Well, he's certainly had a good clear out. That lot should make at least another ten bottles worth. But we do need more semen.'
Tears began to seep through Chrissie's tight stocking hood as Amelia's awful words filled the Nursery and he shook his bonneted head weakly.
'I'll milk him after the feed, before we wrap him up for the night. The state he's in, we'll probably get at least a gallon of cum!'
The women laughed and Chrissie's well gagged sobs fought to increase in volume.
'I'll get the cot ready while you feed him,' Aunt Valerie added, before rising slowly to her feet, making sure that Chrissie got a very close up view of her full, bulging breasts as she did so.
She straightened her skirt in an equally provocative manner and then handed the vibrator's terror inspiring control box to Sister Amelia.
'I doubt you'll need this. He's been as good as gold.'
Sister Amelia smiled very slightly and then turned her dark, cruel eyes onto the trussed sissy wiggling and moaning before her. 'We'll see.'
Aunt Valerie left the play pen and Sister Amelia slowly lowered herself onto her knees before the helpless figure of Chrissie.
'I'm going to remove the bonnet and the hood. If you struggle or resist in any way, you know what will happen.'
His tear stained eyes were already fixed on her tightly restrained and very considerable breasts, and he nodded fearfully. The skirt of the uniform dress had ridden way up Amelia's thighs, and poor Chrissie was also distracted by this equally erotic spectacle.
As she untied the fat silk bow beneath his hosed chin, the odour of her powerful sandalwood perfume washed over his face and he whimpered with a helpless, hopeless desire. She was now so close to him, that her lovely, plump breasts were brushing against his body and his tormented sex was struggling angrily in its rubber restraint.
The bonnet was removed and placed at the tethered, bootied feet, and then she very gently unrolled the kinky stocking hood. He squealed into his fat panty gag with relief as his hot, tormented face was allowed the relatively cool air of the Nursery. She smiled and placed the soaking stocking down beside the bonnet.
'Now, I'll remove the gag. One sound of discontent and I'll put the vibrator on its highest and most painful setting for 10 minutes. Do you understand?'
He nodded warily and then she carefully peeled away the thick strip of silver duct tape that had held Aunt Valerie's pungent panties in place for the past three hours. She folded the tape in half, placed it by the stocking hood and then pulled the pair of white silk panties from his mouth. He gasped with a terrible, tormented relief. It was very obvious he wished to shout out his anger and horror, to plead for release, to curse
his two wicked, beautiful captors. But he had done this before, and every time Sister Amelia had ensured that he suffered terribly. So now only his eyes were communicating his true feelings.
'Don't look so sad, Chrissie,' Sister Amelia teased. 'I know it's hard work at the moment, but just think – by the time we've finished, you'll be a beautiful, obedient young she-male, a gorgeous sissy dressed in the most lavish and exotic costumes, never out of lovely sheer hose, always aroused, with the body of a sex bomb, yet still essentially male. You'll have the best of both worlds! You should be deliriously happy!'
He remained painfully silent, the tears once again welling up in his pretty blue yes.
Sister Amelia then picked up the first bottle of formula and those lovely eyes widened with an awful terror.
'Now open wide like a good baby and start sucking.'
She then unceremoniously popped the fat, clear rubber teat of one of the bottles into his mouth and the poor, crushed sissy, so thirsty because of the fat, salty panty gag, so hungry because of the cruel feeding regime that was at the core of Sister Amelia's therapy, began to suck the formula down into his stomach.
The Formula. A mixture of the urine from the glass tank, the faeces from the metal tank, his semen, a cocktail of female hormones, a strong laxative, a thick milk-based protein drink, a mild sedative and Sister Amelia's special sex potion – a hormone stimulant designed to increase levels of sexual arousal and performance. The urine and faeces: pumped from the tanks via customised under floor connections to the house's internal plumping to the basement, to a much larger sterilisation tank, where the material was transformed into two parts – waste and water. Only the water was added to the bottles, but even this was enough to fill poor Chrissie with horror and disgust. The semen: added via the vials collected at the end of each day's milking, added undiluted.
Despite all this, the Formula tasted almost exactly like a thick strawberry milkshake, a sugared delight that totally denied its true nature. Besides the Formula a lunch of four jars of baby food was the only sustenance the sissy received. Yet in terms of the vital nutrients, this was more than enough to keep him going.
As he sucked desperately on his strange and awful drink, his eyes filled with the gorgeous, sensual spectacle of Sister Amelia, Aunt Valerie lowered the two side panels of the cot and then laid out a thick pink rubber sheet across the wide, silk sheathed mattress. From the wardrobe she then took a fresh, rose scented, white nylon body stocking and an adult sized pink satin sleep suit. She placed them on the rubber sheet and then minced over to a dirty linen basket by the door. She opened the basket, which was filled with her and Sister's Amelia's soiled panties, and extracted a large pair of Amelia's white nylon briefs. At the end of each day the two women made sure that their panties were added to the pile for use as gags. Once used as a gag, a pair of panties was then sent downstairs for a thorough clean and subsequent re-use, first as intimate underwear for the women and then as an inescapable and thoroughly pungent gag for poor Chrissie.
She placed the panties by the nightclothes on the cot and then retrieved a fresh white nylon stocking for use as a hood and a new roll of masking tape from the shelves. Also taken from the shelves were an extra large jar of K-Y jelly, a jar of skin cream and a small plastic vial. All of these items were placed on the mattress.
As she moved about the room, Chrissie finished his first large bottle and was quickly presented with the next, his eyes studying Sister Amelia's large, tightly restrained breasts with an increasingly furious desire, his ears filled with the electric buzz of his aunt's firm, shapely and finely hosed thighs rubbing teasingly together through the tight, sexy skirt.
By the time the very reluctant she-male had finished the third bottle, his eyes were glazed with a savage and all pervasive sex heat, and his mind, already locked in a prison of relentless sissy humiliation, was submerged in a thick slick of dark and angry desire.
Sister Amelia placed the third empty bottle back on the glass tank and then very gently untied Chrissie's stockinged and bootied ankles and his knees. She then detached the tubes running from the tanks too his sex and arse, leaving two rubber tube tails running from both sides of the thick frou-frou petticoating. Then she helped him to his weakened, numb legs. He moaned with pain and relief and shuffled forward out of the pen, his arms still trussed tightly behind his back. With Sister Amelia's help, he managed to move very awkwardly over to the cot, where the black beauty and Aunt Valerie began to undress him.
Thus the late afternoon ritual of "bedtime" began, as it began every night after his evening feed. Even though it was just after 6.00pm, he would be tightly tucked up in the cot before seven, and thanks to the sedative in the formula, he would sleep a deep, dreamless sleep until 6.00am the next morning.
It took maybe ten minutes to strip him completely naked, to remove his remaining bonds and every item of sissy attire, to leave him standing before them with only the bright crimson coat of humiliation covering his face and the rubber cock glove imprisoning his large, very stiff sex, plus the large, silver coloured ring that was permanently fixed very tightly around his bulging, aching, rubber encased balls.
Poor sissy Chrissie. Naked and totally exposed. Every hair had been removed from his body by special depilatory creams. The cream had also made his rose coloured, silky smooth skin ultra-sensitive. The formula had provided him with a pair of small, but growing teenage girl's breasts and made his skin not just ultra-sensitive but beautifully soft. His buttocks had begin to widen and curve, and there was now a real hint of broadening, womanly hips.
He thus made a very strange spectacle. A bald headed, soft featured and helplessly feminine creature somewhere between a boy and a girl. A true sissy.
As usual, the women carefully examined his budding bosom, the product of the hormone treatments and the nightly injections.
'They really are coming along wonderfully,' Aunt Valerie whispered, her dark eyes filled with a cruel arousal.
'Yes, no doubt about it. By the end of the third month you will be ready for enlargement surgery, and then, within a few weeks, you'll have two gorgeous 40 inch whoppers!'
Sister Amelia's words inspired loud, mocking laughter from the two women and tears of despair in the helpless, hopeless sissy. Yet he knew any protest would be repaid with brutal and extended punishment, and the only sign of resistance was the fresh tears welling up in his pretty, girlish eyes.
His longer term fate had already been described to him in teasing detail by Aunt Valerie. At the end of the three month "Phase 1", he would be subject to extensive plastic surgery, including the breast enhancements, and then placed on a three month "maid training programme". By the beginning of 'Phase 2', he would, thanks to the babification treatment, be would a passive, obedient and eager sissy, his desire the tool which would drive his further, more elaborate feminisation. He would be removed from the Nursery and set to work as Aunt Valerie's personal maid. Sexy, intricate maid's costumes and a vast array of associated fetish wear had already been purchased and stored in the gloriously feminine bedroom that was being prepared for him. His helpless fetish for nylon hose would be extended via one of his essential daily duties as Valerie's maid: the care and management of her clothing. His addiction to his Aunt's sensual wardrobe would be at the very core of his desire to submit absolutely to her will, an addiction that would be developed and transferred when, at the end of Phase 2, he would be returned to the care of his beautiful, long suffering mother. Yes, eventually, pretty sissy Chrissie would be the eager and beautiful daughter/maid of Barbette, and Valerie's highly enjoyable task would be complete.
As the tears trickled down poor Chrissie's crimson cheeks, his rock hard, rubberised sex stared up at the two beautiful, wicked women, the connector tube running from its bulging head like a strange back-to-front tail, The other tube, the one connected to the vibrator, resembled a more traditional tail, dangling between his long, feminine legs in an utterly humiliating manner that also brought a cruel smile to Aunt Valerie's voluptuous, cherry red lips.
'Now,' his Aunt continued, 'let's get you ready for bed.'
With Sister Amelia's help, Aunt Valerie laid Chrissie out on his back on the rubber sheet. With his head pointing towards the window, he stared angrily and fearfully at the ceiling. He knew very well what was about to happen, he knew that this next humiliation would be both unbearable and intensely exciting. As on so many other occasions in this strange, dark Nursery, he would be both utterly appalled and helplessly aroused.
Aunt Valerie then proceeded to take one of his slender, dainty ankles and lift it into the air. At the end of cot by Chrissie's feet was a pine board, and fitted to each corner was a white leather shackle. She pulled his left leg upward and then slipped his foot through the corresponding shackle. She then buckled it tightly into place. She repeated the process with the second shackle, so that poor Chrissie was left lying on his back with his legs pulled wide apart and raised at a forty five degree ankle, very much like a pregnant woman about to give birth.
She then set about very gently removing the rubber restrainer from his rigid, tormented sex. She began by slipping her hands beneath his fat, hot balls and unclipping the ring that held the restrainer in a tight, unyielding embrace. He sighed with relief as the pressure on his testicles was briefly removed, a sigh that quickly transformed into a gasp of fear and pleasure as his Aunt slipped her long, blood red finger nails beneath the edge of the rubber that gripped his testicles and began to gently unroll it. The gasp, in turn, transformed into a squeal of fear and fierce pleasure as she slipped the rubber off his balls and then began to peel it from the burning flesh of his hard, angry cock.
Eventually, she managed to extract the fiendish rubber device and its strange tubular tail from the head of his sex and place it in a small pink bucket at the foot of the cot. She then quickly donned a pair of pink rubber gloves and set to work removing the vibrator.
This was both a painful and exciting process. Painful due to the fact that a new, wider and longer vibrator was inserted at the end of each week, to ensure that he was constantly stretched and teased. By the end of Phase 1 there was a very real expectation that Chrissie would be able to accommodate a substantial male sex organ.
More squeals followed, but, after five minutes of careful manipulation, the kinky, fiendishly clever device was pulled free of his long tormented and teased anus and also assigned to the bucket.
'There, there, Chrissie,' Aunt Valerie whispered. 'You'll soon be snug as a bug in a rug.'
Sister Amelia laughed and stepped forward, the large, terrifying syringe held in her white rubber gloved hands.
Chrissie looked at the syringe, as he had looked at it every afternoon for the past two months, and his pretty little girl eyes filled with a deep, black terror. A cry of horror dribbled from his lips and Sister Amelia warned him to remain silent. Then she lent forward between his legs and carefully inserted the glistening needle into his thigh, just opposite his right testicle.
The poor sissy released a familiar high pitched squeal of pain and fear, and then the powerful solution of female hormones was injected into his body.
It was all over in less than a minute, but by the end of it Chrissie was sobbing loudly. Yet these sobs were easily stifled; for as soon as Sister Amelia removed the syringe and stepped back, Aunt Valerie quickly removed from her skirt pocket the sensual, teasing gloves that always guaranteed Chrissie's immediate attention. Made from sheer white nylon, the very same material as the body stocking, the gloves were used for a single, simple purpose: the evening milking.
As she peeled off the rubber gloves, his eyes fixed firmly on her long, elegant hands. She smiled warmly at him and then slipped them into the pretty, fetishistic gloves. He squealed with a desperate anticipation and his large, hard cock twitched hungrily.
But before the milking, there was the apparatus of milking. Also from her skirt pocket, she took what looked like the finger of a clear latex glove and then picked up the glass vial. She then slipped the thinner end of the glove over the vial's thin head and lent down between his legs. She carefully slipped the wider end of the glove over the bulbous, purple head of his cock. She then released the vial and it fell between his legs. Taking a deep, teasing breath, she then slipped a nylon encased hand around his sex and began, ever so slowly, to massage it.
He gasped and moaned. His thigh muscles tightened and his bottom raised up off the rubber sheet. She lent forward a bit more to ensure that Chrissie got a very full view of her splendid bosom and then began to whisper her hypnotist's words, the secret instructions which every night shank a little deeper into his mind and helped ensure his eventual complete and permanent sissification.
'You looked so lovely this evening, Chrissie. Auntie was so pleased with you. You really are quite gorgeous in your lovely baby wear. And just think ,my pretty petal: this is only the beginning. Imagine all the pretty, sexy clothes that await you, all the wondrous varieties of tights and stockings, the sexy, silky panties, the highest of heels, the shortest of skirts. Imagine the fun you'll have. Imagine, all these secret, kinky dreams that have been hiding behind those pretty eyes suddenly turned into spectacle reality. And imagine the fun we are going to have together. Imagine all my lovely clothes, all in your care, my sweet. Eventually, I even let you choose the tights I wear. And at the end of each day, I'll wrap them into a tight, tasty ball and gag you. Just imagine that!'
By the time he was imagining it, he was also squealing with a furious animal pleasure and wiggling desperately under her expert ministrations.
'It's what you want, Chrissie, isn't it. Tell me, tell your auntie. Confess.'
Then, just before he game, he shouted an angry, dark "YES!". But there was also something else, something they had never heard before. 'It's all I've ever wanted. I love it! Please put me in nappies, in panties, in tights. Let me worship you! Oh please, auntie. Pleeeeease!'
Then he exploded. Sister Amelia stepped forward, a smile of utter triumph lighting up her gorgeous face, and held him firmly in place as thick, cream coloured semen spurted from his sex and into the vial. He jerked and wiggled for a good 2 minutes, crying, begging, laughing, in a state of extreme ecstasy. Then his struggles slowed and, eventually, he fell back onto the rubber mattress, spent, exhausted, shocked to the core of his fragile male being.
As he recovered, the women acted quickly. The injections and the Formula ensured that the period of flaccidness following orgasm was frighteningly brief. The vial and associated rubber finger were removed and Aunt Valerie handed it over to Sister Amelia. She smiled and then minced over to the room's wall of shelves, quickly returning with a fresh rubber restrainer and vibrator. Aunt Valerie removed the nylon gloves and replaced them with a pair of semi-transparent surgical gloves. She then picked up the jar of skin cream and scooped out a fingerful of the thick, pink coloured goo, before returning her attentions to Chrissie's already stiff sex.
Chrissie's entire manner had changed quite profoundly. His eyes, fixed to his beautiful aunt, were filled with a strange, desperate adoration and his body seemed surrounded by a static field of fierce sexual energy.
'We have reached a very important moment,' Sister Amelia said, looking down at the helpless, excited form of Chrissie. 'The breakthrough point. A powerful and irreversible physic change. A combination of the drugs and the therapy, and his own innate masochism. His resistance has been completely overcome.'
'Please, Auntie,' Chrissie suddenly squealed, his voice riddled with a strange, deeply feminine need, his eyes wide with sex hunger. 'Please.'
'Now we must take this submission and mould it for our own purposes. That is what the next month will be all about, Valerie. Take his desire and use it to control him. The key to everything I have taught you.'
The beautiful brunette smiled and nodded.
'Oh please, Auntie Val. Please put me in panties and tights. I want nothing else. Make me your maid. Please!'
'There, there,' Aunt Valerie whispered, shocked by the force of Chrissie's pleadings.
Then Sister Amelia quickly took up her soiled nylon briefs, folded them into a ball with the gusset exposed outward and forced them deep into Chrissie's mouth. She the taped them firmly in place. His big blue eyes widened with deep masochistic pleasure and he wiggled his shapely sissy buttocks with a deeply feminine desperation.
'Unfortunately,' she said, as his desperate squeals filled the room, 'he will find it difficult to control this new submissive reaction. He will plead and beg constantly for fetishistic sexual pleasure, tight bondage and feminisation. The necessity for fat and effective gags at all times will become painfully obvious.'
Aunt Valerie laughed and then began, very gently, to smoother Chrissie's rock hard cock in a layer of the skin cream. The sissy squealed and bucked and once again Sister Amelia held him firmly in place. Yet this was no new masturbatory tease. At this point in each day, after the restrainer had been removed and Chrissie had been milked, his cock was gently "lubricated" and the restrainer replaced.
The pretty, helpless sissy moaned furiously into the fat, pungent panty gag and stared up at his gorgeous, all powerful Aunt. Now all sign of fear and anger had gone. Now there was only the glaze of sex and a very deep look of love. Aunt Valerie smiled gently at her she-male charge and contemplated the pleasures that would be hers in the coming months. Amelia had made it clear that once Chrissie was under complete control, they would begin training him not just in the domestic arts, but also in the skills required of a true sex slave. Soon, he would learn to bring her prolonged oral pleasure, both at her breasts and between her legs. The thought made her even wetter than she already was!
After the scented cream had been massaged deep into his cock, she gently removed the outer layer with a baby wipe and then teasingly slid the rubber restrainer back over his hot, red and very hard cock. The baby girl squeals increased in volume, and in a few terrible seconds the rubber device was tightly hugging his sex cock and balls, its strange rubber tube head emerging from his bulbous helmet like a bizarre mutant finger.
She then used the KY jelly to lubricate his back passage, another part of his daily ritual and one which inspired even more well gagged squeals of ecstasy. Then, a new vibrator. The largest yet. A kinky masterpiece of rubber and plastic that she gently slid between his legs and nudged very carefully into the darkness of his already well stretched arse.
'Just think,' Sister Amelia teased, 'you can nearly take a full grown man. I bet you can't wait to have a real dick deep inside you.'
Poor Chrissie turned towards the beautiful black nurse, his eyes wide. Where in the past, and even a few minutes ago, this cruel jibe would have inspired squeals of outrage and anger, now there was only a slight, aroused nod and even wider, contemplative eyes.
'Don't worry, Chrissie,' she continued, 'by the time we've finished with you, the boys will be fighting each other to get into your sheer nylon hose and pretty silk panties.'
Once the vibrator had been forced deep within him, Chrissie was released from his shackles and helped to stand. Still squealing furiously, his cock a giant rubber snake swaying before him, Sister Amelia held him in place while Aunt Valerie removed the rubber sheet and then took up the delightfully sexy white nylon body stocking.
Chrissie took one look at this fetishistic masterpiece and begun to nod furiously.
'I think he's very keen to be put into the stocking tonight, Val,' Sister Amelia teased, her sensual American accent further inflaming poor Chrissie's angry sex.
Aunt Valerie laughed and then helped the deeply agitated sissy to step into the soft, scented stocking.
Normally, Chrissie would have made his unhappiness at being prepared for bed very apparent and a liberal application of a leather paddle to his pert buttocks was required. But tonight, all he wished to do was to be cocooned in the sexy sheer fabric as quickly as possible.
The stocking had one single leg that was drawn up his own two shapely, silky smooth legs, forcing them tightly together and thus pushing the already buzzing vibrator deeper into his expanding anus. It was quickly pulled up over his torso and then his arms were slipped into the stocking's two arm sections, which ended in two seamless and fingerless glove sections, thus covering all his body below his neck in a sexy, ultra sheer film of soft, rose scented white nylon.
As the poor, tormented sissy moaned with a terrible, dark and endless pleasure into the fat, inescapable panty gag, Aunt Valerie slipped a gloved hand through a small, lace-frilled hole positioned exactly over his restrained penis and pulled the hard, rubber sheathed organ through it. Chrissie squealed with shock and awful pleasure. His sex was carefully positioned so that it rose out of his crotch like an erotic flower emerging from a blanket of perfumed snow, at its centre the strange outer stem of the rubber tube.
Sister Amelia then turned Chrissie around, allowing Aunt Valerie to concentrate on the sissy's pretty, perfectly shaped bottom. A further lace edged hole was positioned exactly where the tube connected to the ends of the vibrator rested between his buttocks. She slipped her left hand into the hole and gently extracted the tube.
She then stepped back to admire her handiwork, a smile of triumph and dark amusement lighting up her beautiful face.
Sister Amelia and Aunt Valerie then carefully laid their moaning sissy charge out on his back on the silk lined cot mattress. Once he was appropriately positioned, Sister Amelia returned to the wardrobe to retrieve the binding ribbons that would complete his kinky sleep wear.
But before he was placed in the sleep sack, Aunt Valerie took up the fresh stocking hood and then, her eyes full of teasing promise, looked down on her helpless, wildly aroused sissy nephew.
'Seeing that you've been such good little baby today, I've got a very special treat for you, Chrissie.'
The sissy's girlish eyes widened and a squeal of terrible, agonising need fought its way past his sexy, tasty gag as Aunt Valerie then proceeded to slip the hood beneath her legs and wipe it firmly against the front of her very wet pantied and hosed crotch, allowing it to soak up a large amount of the pungent sex juice that had soaked through from her very excited cunt.
She then retrieved the stocking and Sister Amelia, an impressed and aroused smile lighting up her own gorgeous face, gently lifted Chrissie's head up to allow Aunt Valerie to slip the stocking over it, making sure that the sex juice soaked section was positioned directly over his nose and expertly sealed mouth.
The poor sissy was driven quite mad by this latest kinky provocation and the two lovely women quickly set to work securing him for the night. First, his delicately and tightly hosed legs were bound with the ribbons at his ankles, knees and thighs, each ribbon secured with a fat, dainty sissy bow of dazzling pink silk. Then a fourth, much longer ribbon was wrapped very carefully around his waist and his nylon sheath wrists were tied to this with two shorter ribbons.
Satisfied that he was secured, the women then took up the sleep sack. At first, it appeared to be little more than large pink satin sheet, but as it was slipped beneath the sissy and the sides were pulled together to meet in the exact middle of Chrissie's nylon cocooned and bound form, a series of very large, pink plastic buttons were revealed, running from his toes right up to the tip of his shaven and stockinged head.
Aunt Valerie then began to slip the buttons through corresponding eyelets and thus slowly seal helpless, sex maddened Chrissie within the tight, teasing sack. And within a few minutes, the lovely, wiggling, moaning sissy was buttoned up his neck.
Just before she completed the buttoning, and thus plunged him into an absolute darkness relieved only by the scent of her cunt and the endless buzzing of the vibrator, she lent forward and kissed him gently on his very hot forehead.
'Sleep well, babikns. I think we'll start tomorrow with a nice soapy enema, and then maybe you can suckle on my breasts for a while.'
His squeals of desperate need were quickly drowned out as she then proceeded to button up the rest of the sack, leaving him a wiggling, helpless, utterly overwhelmed sex snake, a pink sissy torpedo of fierce and endless desire.
Sister Amelia then slipped her hands through a gap between the buttons and retrieved the tube connected to the cock restrainer. Aunt Valerie slipped her own hands beneath his wiggling bottom and found a small hole through which she found the tube connected to the vibrator. The tubes were then connected to two longer lengths of rubber tubing at the end of the cot which ran into the glass and metal boxes, thus assuring an overnight supply of waste mater and more ingredients for Sister Amelia's formula.
The two women then pulled up the wooden bars of the cot and locked them in place.
Sister Amelia turned to Aunt Valerie and smiled.
'That obviously got you going.'
Aunt Valerie blushed and smiled. 'Yes,' she said shyly. 'I find it very…arousing.'
To Aunt Valerie's surprise, Sister Amelia then stepped forward and kissed her very softly on the lips. Aunt Valerie gasped and fell into a long and erotic embrace.
'Is this part of the therapy?' she asked.
'Oh yes,' Sister Amelia said, taking the beautiful, buxom brunette by the hand. 'Very much so.'
She then led Aunt Valerie from the room. Before she flicked off the Nursery light and closed and locked the door, Aunt Valerie whispered a teasing "nighty night, babikins" to the wiggling bundle secured so expertly in the cot. Then, she allowed herself to be led to her bedroom and a prolonged night of erotic adventure.
If you would like to read more kinky tales of enforced feminisation by Christina Shelly, her new novel, The Company of Slaves, published by Nexus books, is now available at Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk.
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