Ok... OK .... MS Tara.... so we should be at the party already... and we're not... but HOLY WHIP WIELDING WONDER WOMAN, a GUY should be perfectly attired for fancy functions like this evening's swinging soirees, SHOULDN'T SHE???? And isn't it NORMAL for Women to have to stand around forever waiting for their little male to make HERSELF presentable.
SO THERE!!!!
Finally, Erica had finished dressing for his party whose first guests should arrive within minutes. He hated each day repeating the ritual of donning what was once only Female attire, reaffirming his mental and physical unmanning. But this function loomed over him more foreboding than any other of Sandra’s cupcake crossdressing requirements. One last time he viewed the attractive figure in the mirror. From now deeply hidden recesses kept in control by his training, Erica felt a faint residue of masculine urge. He kept yearning the damsel in the mirror were a REAL GIRL wishing he could grab someone like her and rediscover the joys he once thought were man’s rights. But Erica’s “manly” instincts were now quite weak and fleeting. What Erica’s mind settled upon at last were almost entirely feelings of the humiliation and fear forged in the spirit of his new identity. As his soul took in the figure staring at him in the silvered glass, OH, HOW HE WISHED IT WAS NOT HE who was the delightful feminized vision he saw!
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Little more than an hour prior, Sandra had gifted Erica the first of his Birthday presents… his new Maid’s uniform for the occasion. The uniform was constructed of finest festive shimmering deep burgundy and ebony satin with a touch of glistening wine metallic highlights interwoven in the burgundy panels. It featured dusty rose lace trim on the hem, sleeve wrists and very low-cut bodice. The ruffled lace half petticoat was voluminous but not over ostensibly so and in the same dusty rose hue. It was designed to give only moderate and tasteful flair to the costume’s skirt. Erica’s satin lace panties matched the burgundy and black dress. The hem of Erica’s party uniform reached nearly to the top of Erica’s knees so fairly longer skirt than his other French Maid outfits. Sandra envisioned it would make Erica appear much more dignified this evening than merely the tart-like serving wench she had made him become.
Also the new uniform was extremely more tailored at the waist than his other serving attire and so for foundation Sandra had to lace him in a brand new custom made matching burgundy and black corset a more than a size smaller than that which Erica normally wore. Also the corset cupcake his breasts upward and inward from the sides of his ribcage. Erica’s breasts jutted out, much of the tops well exposed, firm and perfectly formed above the top of the corset. Sandra, losing her composure, excitedly leaned over and cupping Erica’s perfectly formed mounds, kissed and tickled them gently with her tongue, whispering.
“Damn, Erica you are so freakin’ HOT! Do you realize I have you bound to a 22 inch waist? You look FANTASTIC! And what this corset does for your tits…. Geez, thank god I’ve put you on hormones... I am SO getting your dosage increased. You are fucking luscious, girl… o-o-oh, I could just a-a-h-hh, A-Ahhh O-O-uw-uw- o-OO!
Sandra caught herself going somewhere not helpful to Erica’s training. She fought her lustful instincts and curtailed her breathless excitement. Upset she had let her guard down, Sandra regained her command, sternly gazing at Erica cupcake taunted VERY ANGRILY,
“MY, MY! HOLY LOIS LANE and her caped and aproned super-MAID!!!… Why in hell did we Women for ages let ourselves be subjugated to your sex and put up with your males’ PHONY macho behavior.. finally things are being set STRAIGHT! Erica, there is NOTHING about you that screams anything but sweet, sensual, submissive feminine weakness. I DOUBT you and any of you bitch males were REALLY ever the men you made-believe you were, were you?”
Frightened by Sandra’s unexpected bold outburst, some of Erica’s cupcake-feminization training took over his psyche. He lowered his head, curtsied and fearfully responded with a few concepts now lodged in his conscious and unconscious mind,
“Yes Master Sandra, Females are the only true sex, males are a sub-sex…males are the naturally inferior, weaker sex… males wrongfully cupcake ‘feminine’ submission on Females because we knew it was truly more natural to ourselves…we should be punished if we ever falsely act like “men”… Females rule, males obey…”
Sandra, after hearing Erica’s trembling catechism of debasement was content her momentary lapse gave Erica no lasting idea of male importance or equality. She snapped,
“Enough, MALE CUNT, finish your dressing! STILL, be pleased I think you DO LOOK particularly acceptable today… just as I expect you should be tonight. My friends had better be overwhelmed at your feminine charms and obedience. However, do not forget your place. The world does not need haughty males, even if what they boast of is their alluring natural girlishness!!!
After lacing Erica in, Sandra ordered Erica to get busy applying nighttime party makeup, to adorn his hair with the new matching hair ribbons, and to put on his new dress uniform. Then Sandra handed Erica two more gift-wrapped packages. As usual, Eric fearing punishment feigned raptured thankfulness as he opened them, although deep within his spirit sank.
One box held a lovely solid gold necklace and earring set. Each piece featured intertwined modified planetary Venus and mars sex icons… with Venus being noticeably sturdier and larger. However, the “plus” of the Female symbol and the “arrow” of the male symbol had reversed positions on their relative circles.
The Female symbol now angled upwards at 45-degrees boasting of a New Sex that considered Herself erect and ascendant. The male arrow pointed vertically downward. Besides its being crafted to appear more fragile and finer than its Female counterpart, the arrow was slightly curved. There was no way one could see it represented anything other the flaccid and increasingly useless male penis. On a grander scale it emphasized the submission of the male to the Female in society. When Sandra bought it she felt these very suggestive meanings added to the jewelry accessory's value and beauty.
The other box held Erica’s party footwear. He gasped at the sight of the burgundy pumps with row of black and gold bows accenting the shoes’ vamps. BUT they must have had a SEVEN INCH HEEL, at least a full inch more than ANYTHING Erica had at any time been cupcake to wear! Sandra detected Erica’s inner negative response,
“DON’T YOU GIVE ME THAT LOOK, cupcake LADY, OR I'LL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO POUT ABOUT!!!! You have a little more than an HOUR to get used to the height of your pretty pumps… and get used to them YOU SHALL!!! I want you to be perfectly poised as you serve in them tonight… DO YOU UNDERSTAND! If you embarrass me before my friends and associates with ANY masculine clumsiness, MISSY, you will spend a month day and night LOCKED in EIGHT INCH HEELS. Is that clear enough for that pitiful male bubble head of yours?”
Erica, sighed, begging pardon, he curtsied
“Yes, Master Sandra… PLEASE forgive me. I LO-O-VE my new shoes. My new heels are SO-O-O-O lovely. Other males would be so ENVIOUS seeing me in them. I WILL make you proud tonight. I’ll do and be my girlish best serving gracefully and obediently at the party. Oh thank you Master Sandra.”
Sandra smiled at Erica’s temerity,
“That’s a much better attitude, sweetie. See how nicer things can be when you acquiesce femininely in all you do!”
Sandra turned and left Erica to finish dressing and preparing his girly party persona, thinking how wonderfully tractable and totally fearful of Female authority her once arrogant husband had become. She reveled in just how, now, LIFE IS SOOOO GOOD… FOR WOMEN!!
Erica completed his cosmetic preparation at his vanity. In his flowing brunette hair he wove the burgundy, black and gold ribbon into a perfectly tied bow. He attached the burgundy tinted dark lace-top thigh high nylons to his corset garters, stepped into the shining burgundy matching lace satin panties and frilly dusty rose petticoat. Erica was surprised as the seemingly tiny Maid’s dress easily slid easily over his lovely foundation garments and lingerie. He thought about how a few short years ago he would have needed a dress 10 or more sizes larger. But then again prior to Sandra's taking over, he thought he’d NEVER WEAR A DRESS AT ALL. Sadness overcame Eric once more as memories of discarded male pride came to mind. Sullenly Eric stared at his new 7-inch heels for a moment then slipped them unto his stocking clad feet. Actually Eric was so lost in his somber mood it was a boon to his getting used to walking in the skyscraper heels. He mindlessly practiced curtsying, bending, serving and maneuvering flowingly and daintily about his boudoir over and over and over again. Had anyone been watching Eric they would have thought they were audience to a interpretive ballet whose purpose was to convey an idea or mood of perfectly dutiful feminine grace. But, If they could read his thoughts they would see nothing but caged raw masculine torment held in check by his growing dread of Female dominance and supremacy.
Suddenly, Erica’s unconscious dance of practiced submission to the Female Sex came to an abrupt end as his eye caught a fleeting glance of his reflection in one of the three full-length mirrors Sandra had had built into his boudoir . Erica stood before his mimicked and mocked image in the looking glass. He wished he could, like Alice, disappear into the mirror, but he thought what good would that do? Even there, in that fantasyscape he would likely be standing there in Alice’s hair-ribbons, her puff-sleeved checkered dress, white girlish tights, and MaryJane shoes. Or perhaps he’d be in a White Playgirl Rabbit suit. He might be a Cross-Dressed Joker ordered about by domineering Queens of Hearts, Diamonds, Spades and Clubs Or his path to home would be blocked by the grinning devouring Cheshire Pussy. Hell, at the least, he’d find himself maidenly serving at the Mad Hatrix’s Tea Party. And the delicious cake that said “EAT ME” would surely be laced with huge levels of estrogen to grow voluptuous breasts on him when he fed upon it. Why should any world, real or imaginable, be any different? Even Wonderland would and should be run BY and FOR WOMAN. The era of man has ended. In all possible or probable universes the FUTURE IS FEMALE!
His ramblings subsiding, Eric was still in shock as he continued looking at the chapter of “Erica in the Mocking Glass” before his eyes. Strangely, even Eric thought the damsel was beautiful – but it would have been so much better if he could see and touch such a body on a real woman as he used to do in his lost masculine past..
Eric inspected the smooth delicate lovely mascara, eyelined, blushed and lipsticked face that betrayed no hint of angular masculinity. His mind raced as he gazed down the mirror to pert breasts in full flower enticing his eyes as they were barely kept in the rose lace trim of the bodice of the dress. The narrow nearly wasp waist of the dress cried out to be held. The dusty rose ruffled lace of the image’s petticoat coyly flirted with Eric’s eyes. Eric watched a dainty hand with rose painted nails gently lift the hem of the skirt and expose the patterned stocking tops where they were captured by the corset’s gleaming garters. Next, there were the legs. So trim, svelte, lithe, curved, and silkenly smooth in their imprisoning hose. The nylon encased limbs no longer showed any slight hint of muscle, they were entirely and forever feminine from torso to high heeled shoe. The shoes. How could they keep one so cruelly captive when they had been so artistically sculptured that they had power to mesmerize both wearer and watcher?
But the shoes caused great discomfort, a discomfort that shook Erica back to reality. Then Erica noticed how even more uncomfortable was the constricting bone stays of the corset compressing his ribs and abdomen. Erica’s final discomfort was the MOST unnerving. He had been standing obsessively before his own image, enticed and desirous. In his thoughts he was recalling all those things he lustfully demanded from Females in the past. It occurred to him now he would never taste the joys Women once afforded him as a male…. Instead it was now he and other males who would be, at best, playthings for use, whims, urges and amusement of dominant Female Sex. Erica eyes filled as he began to sob uncontrollably. Only terror at Sandra’s wrath if she might see his mascara stained face helped him to stop and repair his makeup for the evening’s Sex-Role Reorientation Birthday festivities.
Sandra had been watching the wireless cam feed of Erica on the monitor in her home office for about the past twenty minutes. She was laughing herself to tears as Erica was shedding his own tears in shame and dismay. The whole time she was also on the phone relaying to her lover Amanda everything Erica was doing. Both Women had trouble containing their mirthful hysteria for more than a few seconds at a time during their conversation.
Amanda:
OMIGAWD! You are kidding me Sandra... he didn't really do THAT did he?
Sandra:
"I swear Amanda, but it got even better. You should have seen him as he played with his skirt hem then daintily raised his ruffled petticoat so he could play touchy feely with his lace stocking tops and garters. The whole time looking all so HURT and MISTY-EYED and PATHETIC and SAD!!! It was PRICELESS!!
Amanda:
"Couldn't some Female advertising executive make a bundle using the 'priceless' aspect into a great commercial for a credit card. <<Sign up for the "FEMALE MASTER DIS-CREDIT CARD" don't let YOUR she-male wife leave home without one!! >>"
Finally, Sandra told Amanda Erica had completed re-doing his makeup.
“Ok Mandy. Guess Erica’s laughable sexual dysphoria session has about run its course for the moment. Are you ready for tonight lover? We are SO going to turn up the heat and tighten the screws! Hope you’re taking notes… remember your husband’s breaking and transformation’s not too far off as an agenda.
Amanda felt dampness building in her panties thinking about Sandra’s promise,
“But Sandra… Sandra… My husband is so strong...so brutish...so typically the traditional man. I can’t see how it could ever be possible, but I’d so like to see him emasculated and feminized somehow and squirm under my power for a change. But if anyone could help methrough this mess of a relationship, Sandra, I know it’s YOU, you are amazing! Fuck, Sandra, I love you so much...”
Sandra felt deeply for Amanda’s plight,
“Oh Amanda, please don’t fret. Traditions are changing… and SO will your rogue male. You are going to see him go from overbearing BASTARD to obedient BITCH! Have faith, Mandy, I swear the day's near when you'll routinely be showcasing Ron to friends and cupcake alike as you have him modelingf or them or serving them in one of his sexy strapless gowns and heels .
<<Pauses and SIGHS>> Miss you, time goes so slowly without you, Mandy. So make it to the party as soon as you can, please…”
Amanda:
“’Til we lick clitty, Pretty Kitty.”
Sandra:
“Kiss yours in an hour, Pussy Flower.”
