from Priscilla

Dear Auntie Helga,

Missy Sissy writing in once more per the dictates of my wife turned mistress with a further update. Before I go on I guess the first thing I should report to you is that Ms Susan has officially had my name changed from Johnny to Priscilla, although she and all my former friends and associates commonly refer to me as either Miss Priss or Prissy. The following picks up after my latest night sleeping in a baby doll nightie in a cot at the foot of my former bed. A most restless evening in that the sounds of my cuckolding as my wife took another turn at philandering in retribution for my supposed previous unfaithfulness had kept me shamefacedly awake all night. The end result of the my-way or the divorce-highway choice given to me when she had first learned of my claimed dalliance with one of the girls in the office where I used to work as the manager of our agency. A charge of unfaithfulness that although untrue I could not prove to be a fabrication, which in turn led to my not only being stripped of my manly persona and accepting an emasculated status as my wife's maid in lieu of losing everything I had, but also a career change in which mistress and I changed positions in that she is now the owner manager and I her secretary/gofer.

A set of conditions which not only led to her having me throw all my manly belongings in the dumpster near our house, but the removal of anything that even implied a manly essence. One of which was the enforced giving away of all my prized fishing equipment to the three former friends I used to go on fishing trips with, all to the tune of endless curtsies at their feet while attired in a very effeminate manner. To make matters worse Mistress offered to have me still go with them on their next upcoming fishing trip to the cabin in the woods we've used for years, only this time as there sissy boy-girl Friday assigned the cooking and cleaning chores all of them as real men hate. Ms Susan even went so far as to promise them I'd be willing to relieve them of any 'manly-tensions' at the end of each day, but that will be a story for a future date.

At the end of the day, unjustified as it may seem (at least to me), it has resulted in an emancipation emasculation in the form of my being rendered totally effeminate in both body and soul. For as you will recall Mistress used my concocted adultery to have me shorn of my family jewels under the guise of my agreeing to have a vasectomy to placate her. Although as you may also recall I didn't realize her subterfuge at first for she had had her fellow feminist 'good-doctor' replace my castrated pearls with anatomically correct hollow ones crafted from light weight metal. A neutering replacement I did not discover until some days later when my bandages were removed and I first heard the faint tinkling sound they now make courtesy of the tiny metal beads inside each one that renders them miniature bells that chime out my emasculated state with each and every step I take no matter how mincingly small they might be. A feminization that was then visually enhanced by a makeover more in tune with what your readers might be used to hearing about. One that included the hair on my head being processed and colored into an effeminate strawberry blond tight curly poodle perm and pixie cut at a salon run by my sister who took spiteful glee in helping out her sister-in-law help me mend my former chauvinistic ways. A day of belittling beauty that included eyebrow tweezing and a body waxing that left me shorn both physically as well as emotionally. A trip to the spa that not only included my getting a facial makeover in the form of some semi-permanent lip gloss and eyeliner that I was informed would last several months, but a wardrobe one as well when it was topped off by my being attired in a prissy blouse and pleated skirt to go along with the sheer stockings and patent leather pumps that now shod my smoothened legs.

A fashion transformation that started with my first taste of feminine intimate finery as well, which left me cringing in shame as I modeled them for my wife and sister to the tune of their sarcastic banter. A padded bra and panty combo that not only left me emotionally castrated, but physically neutered as well, in that they in turn cloaked the remnants of my former six inches of virile manhood by permanently encapsulating it in a two inch long pink hardened silicone chastity cage that was every bit physically emasculating as it was effeminate looking. One that Ms. Susan informed me wouldn't be coming off anytime soon, meaning neither would I unless she deemed it desirable. A total feminizing packaging that not only left me wanting no one to see me clothed, but not wanting to have the former Mr. happy set free either, due to the demoralizing belittling picture it now presented... with emphasis on the little.

Unfortunately even that bit of dignity was denied me as my wife proceeded to take us from the salon to my in-laws house where I was showcased in a panties down manner for one and all to see my jailed little man. It was there that I also got a taste of my immediate future as her declared sissy maid when I was encased in one of her mother's pinafores for the purpose of serving dinner. The first hands on lesson in what would amount to a career change in that she made it known that in light of my wandering eyes I would be quieting my job effective immediately to take on my new position as her resident sissymaid in waiting.

It was at this point that I started to second-guess my decision to try and mollify her anger. A thought process that I had ample time to consider once we got home, as Ms. Susan dropped me off at the door with instructions to tidy things up while she went out for a drink to sort things out. If I had known what she meant by sort things out I am sure I wouldn't have been there when she returned later on as she didn't arrive alone. Upon hearing another voice, one of the male persuasion I tried to hide in the bathroom. Sad to say this didn't fly with Ms. Susan's plans however as she immediately called me to the carpet-the one in the living-room-for the purpose of getting her guest a drink in my capacity as sissymaid. What followed was an introduction that went like this.

"Joshua this is Johnny my supposed faithful husband and sissymaid who is here to serve us. Miss Johnny this is the man-a real man-who is here to make amends for your treason to our marriage vows by cuckolding you. What makes Joshua so special to both you and me is that he tells me he has been known to swing both ways when it comes to getting his rocks off, so you will probably be joining us in your new capacity as my boudoir maid as well this evening."

Once again the thought of opting for the door filtered through my mind, however not only didn't I see myself running off into the night dressed like Susie Cream Cheese, but the ominous way that her male friend who was twice my size was looking at me, left me figuring I wouldn't get far. Left with no where to hide or any place to run to I found myself trying to fulfill her desires while at the same time trying to be invisible. Once again the fate Ms. Susan had intended for me made that a non-factor however as she once again made it clear that she had no desire to cheat on me as I had done to her. Instead, as she had alluded to earlier, she reiterated that my domestic duties would include my being in attendance for her soiree of retribution. A position she announced that would not be suited for how I was currently attired and thusly I found myself heading up the stairs ahead of them for the purpose of donning one of her sheer baby doll nighties that she had left out, which turned out to be one that had always left me drooling after her.

It was at that point that my world truly shattered as Susan coming through the bathroom took in what was happening and chuckled out loud, "Once a cheater always a cheater. Although from the looks of things it appears you do have all the makings of a mighty fine sissy maid."

(edit. What happened here is up to you dear readers to imagine)

It was almost as if providence had dictated that I get incorrectly charged with fooling around on Susan so that this magic moment could occur. One of those special moments in a life time that opened the windows to my true heart and soul, revealing for me and all that would see me going forth that I not only was a sissified pansy, but that I couldn't be happier or more elated. I knew that a life in frilly finery and sissy frocks was not only my destiny but my joy for evermore.

The following morning I found myself eager to start my new life; to wit I excitedly donned my first sissy maid uniform. One comprised of silk and satin in various shades of lavender and lilac from the skin out, including the dainty befrilled apron that gave me the thrill of confirming my new sissy maid status. No more rush hours to fight or time clocks to punch. No more corporate meetings to manage or major financial decisions to make. Just the simple life of keeping a home and being the submissive plaything of my wife and whomever else she chooses to grace her life. To that end one of the first things I did after making Ms. Susan and Joshua's breakfast and doing the dishes and changing Ms. Susan's sheets, was to start cleaning out the old oversized storage closet off the kitchen, with the idea of turning it into a maid's chamber. For I knew Ms. Susan would soon tire of rubbing my nose in her boyfriend's crotches (literally as well as figuratively) and that she would want the master bedroom to herself. A decision that would be fine by me as it would allow me the chance to express my own sissified sense of style in ways that I knew would be too effeminate and frilly for her.

After completing my chores that first morning as my wife's emasculated sissymaid in the making, Susan told me that we would be taking a trip. It was time she informed me to hand in my notice as manager at work and prepare for my new position as low 'girl' on the office totem pole to wit she had made a 12 o'clock appointment with the staff.

"It's only fair you explain face to face why you're being demoted from your present position, especially given that your extra marital fling, Lauren, is a secretary at the office. To that end I've got the perfect outfit for your first outing as my repentant cuckold sissy hubby. After all you must make a sissified first impression on all your fellow workers who labored under the supposition that you were a real man's man all these years. Just think how pleased they'll be to learn that your overbearing macho bravado was just so much bull and that you want them to be the first to see the true effeminate you that you've struggled to keep secret all these years.

Just think how at peace you will be as you lower your eyes in deference to their superior feminine stature and drop them each one of those cute skirt clasping curtsies I'm going to show you, while you pour out your simpering confession of what a pathetic pantywaist sissy you've always been and how you have longed to come to work attired in a manner befitting your pansy persona. Just think how liberating it will be to have them condescendingly fawn over your prissy attire as you confess to them how you have never been the man you pretended to be!"

As I listened it dawned on me that my newborn effeminate fantasy was about to be realized in a big way. However at the same time I also realized that it wouldn't be a panty stroking moment in my own bedroom, but rather a very harsh dose of reality. For I was to be paraded for real, only I wouldn't be having a big O over the moment, as I would be emasculatingly locked in my new chastity cage. Instead I would be paraded as a simpering sissy for her amusement and the enjoyment of others. A fact that should have left any normal man cringing in fear and looking for a way out. However at this point I recognized that I was neither a man nor normal, as others might perceive it. Instead I steadied myself for the task ahead with the comforting mantra that, "I am a Sissy and this is my ordained fate in life." With that in mind I also knew that she was only doing this for my own good. However when Ms. Susan showed me my outfit, I nearly passed out as I took it in, for I was to be dressed quite childlike-almost infantile-if not down right babyish! A sissy baby!

I wanted to protest that this was not the sissified persona I intended for the world to see, however I immediately realized how much of an oxymoron that would be, as sissies have no say when it comes to determining their fate. Instead I removed the lovely lavender maid's uniform I had worn all morning and the lingerie underneath, until I stood naked in front of my gloating wife. She then pulled the first item of clothing from the pile on display. A pair of pink nylon panties meant for a little girl, with hopping lavender bunnies on them, only so oversized that I knew they would not stay in place without some assistance. To that end I was pushed back down onto my back so that I was lying on the mat positioned on the floor behind me. She then took great pleasure in powdering my bottom, before she slid them up my legs. Ms. Susan then cinched them into place, scrunching the waistband up and securing it in place with pink bunny pins, one at each hip. She then followed them with the second item she pulled from the pile on the bed, a pair of translucent Day-Glo pink plastic panties that she in turn ran up my legs.

"We don't want any accidents, do we? I mean it's going to be embarrassing enough for you dressed like I intend what if you had an accident and wet yourself in fear fraught consternation? Then I'd have to change you right there in front of everyone, leaving your hairless bottom and chastity-caged privates showing as I wiped you down, powdered you and repantied you! "

Seeing the growing look of trepidation on my face she added, "Don't get all embarrassed my pansy excuse for a husband. Remember it was you that requested this last night, both in word and deed, when you not only said you wanted me to help you express to the world your true sissy nature, but when you demonstrated just how unmanly you truly are by creaming your panties as you pleasured the first of many real men that will be filtering through our lives!'

She then picked up the third item, a pair of Victorian style bloomers with a rumba flavor courtesy of the lace ridges running horizontally across their backside. Ones that were designed to cling at the hips before billowing out around the derriere and privates, so that they were still quite loose fitting despite the volume created by the plastic panties under them. From there however they tapered down to where they pinched in around my quivering legs at mid thigh due to the lacy elastic cuffs that bit into my now shorn hairless legs. As she sequestered them over the pink plastic panties and the infantile nylon bunny panties under them that clasped my failed manhood, she laughed aloud at my expense as she pointed out the fact that these prissy bloomers had embroidered on them a most derisive message, 'SUSAN'S SISSY SLAVE!'

Next she pulled a yellow little girl's first party dress, with short puffy sleeves and a bodice dripping in lace, down over my up-stretched arm. One that came with a built in lace petticoat, whose diminutive length was designed to leave my multi-layered pantied bottom on display for everyone I'd meet that day to see. An over the top frilly frock with short puffy sleeves that came replete with a satin sash, which she in turn tied around my waist, so that it gathered into a big billowy bow over my behind.

Ms. Susan then placed a pair of lemony yellow silk gloves over my hands, which matched the hue of the patent leather little miss Mary Janes she'd buckled onto my feet, over the nylon ankle socks she'd previously shod my feet in. Dainty bits of effeminate finery replete with tulip shaped lacy cuffs. Adding to my helpless chagrin was the fact that my mitten style hand coverings were attached by an elastic band that connected the two at the wrists. A shortened bind that caused me to hold them out before me in a limp wristed gesture, which effectively stopped me from being able to use my hands for any other purpose then to feebly grasp my skirted hems when the time came for me to show my respect to my betters (aka everyone I met) via my dropping them each and everyone a submissive curtsy. A point that my wife drove home when she patted upwards on my panty clad caged privates

"Baby's looking so cute and pretty! That color is so right for you... forsythia yellow! A very appropriate hue for a sissy who is too much of a coward to be a real man. Oh and by the way have you noticed how your juvenile prissy frock is not only short enough that it leaves your panties clearly on display, so as to assure that everyone you meet today will not only know what you are, but that it was your own wife who feminized you! I've never had so much fun in all my life, and I know you love every minute of this also! After all the tented bulging in your plastic nappy is a barometer, no matter how small, that belies any claim you are unhappy with your situation!"

A claim I could not deny given that the budding little sissy in me wanted to laugh for joy, even though at the same time the lost wannabe big man in me began to cry, sobbing over my intended humiliation, as my more and more inventive spouse, laughed at my predicament. She then took a final item of clothing from the bed, a yellow silk bonnet, edged in white lace, which she placed atop my pot of prissy curls and then tied the straps hanging down from each side of it into a dainty bow under my quivering chin. A big silk bow nestled around my throat, making my shame complete.

"My don't you look lovely! Such a lovely baby, all ready for her big outing! Here, we go sissy. I've made you a nice bottle of milk. Be a good baby and drink it all up, while I change."

I sucked on the rubber teat, as tears continued to fall down my cheeks. Ms. Susan finally reappeared ten minutes later, a blue plaid raincoat covering her clothes, the only thing visible being the white stiletto heeled boots covering her feet. She then took my empty bottle away and pushed a dummy shaped like a penis deep into my mouth. To stop me spitting it out, she tied it around my head. As she did so she smiled wickedly and chuckled sarcastically as I sucked on my cock shaped dildo pacifier. At the same time she reached into my plastic panties supposedly to check me for accidents albeit her true intent it appeared was to rub my tiny encapsulated petite penis until it began dripping precum assuring the look of an accident.

"It's time to leave," she then intoned, "and like any good caretaker, I know that babies can get lost easily." In response to her own statement she then attached a set of reins around my chest and padlocked me into them. She then took the reins in hand and headed me downstairs and outside to our waiting car. I burned in shame as I felt the breeze on my bare legs, for I realized that everyone was going to know what I am. A sissy!

"I hope you don't mind, but I moved the car out of the driveway and down to the street, as I knew you'd want to showcase your darling outfit to the neighborhood!"

A statement that sent a shiver up my spine for wearing my sissy lingerie and humping my tiny cock into them in sissified serendipity while in private was one thing, but now it was time to have them publicly show off with the added indignity of my 'diapered' state as well!"

I was then led to the end of the drive and on to the tree lined cul de sac where we lived. As I found myself mincing along in an attempt to keep my short skirts from floating up on the breeze I prayed that no one would be about, but almost straight away, I was spotted by one of the neighbors. One Patty Smith who knew me well. She was a raven-haired beauty who the former testosterone induced male in me had often stopped to chat with, but who now cringed as Susan beckoned her over.

"Oh my God, Susan! I can't believe what I'm seeing! You've got a little sissy baby and she's so cute. What a delightfully pretty dress she has on too. But what's this, quaint old fashioned bloomers as well," she noted as she lifted the hem of my dress. It was then that she saw the inscription on them and with it came the dawning of recognition as she looked up and glared at me dead on.

"Oh my God, this isn't a she, but your husband Johnny, isn't it?"

I then found myself spending the next 20 minutes telling Patty... err make that Miss Patricia per Ms. Susan's vocalized demand why I'm being punished. Clearly fascinated by my situation, she slowly reached into the front of my plastic panties, while telling Ms. Susan with a tongue in cheek smirk that she was checking to make sure that I haven't wet myself. A comment based on the noticeable moist spot on the sheer nylon bunny panties beneath them from were my caged yet engorged sissy wand had dribbled in sissified excitement. A position that she then took advantage of when she suddenly began to finger fondle my caged privates causing me to twirl in place while moaning haplessly. As she listened to my wife's plans she added a second finger and then her whole hand causing me to literally jump about in my Mary Janes, all the while chuckling at my dismay. A scenario that rendered me a commotion of helpless emotion that in turn set my frilly frock a flounce rendering me into a picture of juvenile exuberance as I raised up on my tippy-toes

At the same time I was totally mortified over what appeared to be my overt excitement over being presented and manipulated in so effeminate a manner. One that left me with my crimsoned face hung in shame when she finally stopped playing me like a puppet on a string, especially when she used the edge of my bloomers to wipe off the moisture she'd picked up while playing with my encapsulated failure of a manhood.

Meanwhile Ms. Susan explained where she was taking me and invited Patricia to come along. Tears of humiliation began to stream down my face as they giggled over my obvious enjoyment over being cast in the role of a nancy ninny. Susan buckled me into the back of the car and took my cock shaped pacifier out of my mouth. As she did it made a popping sound that gave the appearance I'd been enjoying it. Patricia snickeringly remarked that I looked like I had the makings of a natural born sissy, to which Susan further mortified me by sharing with her the tale of my cuckolding the night before. As she did so she substituted another bottle of juice in its place between my reddened lips.

We took the busiest route into town and I cringed every time someone saw me. Ms. Susan meanwhile spent the time telling Patricia all about my supposed affair with Lauren, who she for some reason seemed to hold no grudge against, instead laying all the blame on my weak-kneed shoulders. Patricia turned to me and laughed as she told me how lucky I was to have so understanding a wife, stating that if she had been in Susan's shoes she would have cut off my balls. A statement that caused Ms. Susan to erupt into laughter, as she in turn shared how she in fact had done just that, right down to the mortifying details of how I now 'ring-in' my unmanning with each mincing step I take. All of which left both of them with tears of their own running down their collective faces as they laughed themselves silly over my emasculated plight.

Thankfully we pulled into the agency's parking lot although Susan parked as far from the front door as she could, forcing me to hippity-hop before the passing midday downtown traffic in hopes of not being recognized, failing to recognize that I in turn was rushing to a fate that would prove worse then death. I was thusly bright red and sweating as I was led through the entrance and into the front office where Claire the receptionist looked at me in total disbelief as Susan pulled me in front of her.

"Hello Claire. Miss Prissy here has an important announcement for the entire staff so why don't you lock up and come join us in the main office?"

This was it, no longer would I be the 'man', but rather as fate would have it I would instead in the near future find myself assuming Claire's entry level position as she moved up the corporate ladder thanks to my revelation that I was a sissy at heart. One set in motion as I heard Claire's voice announcing over the speaker system that everyone should gather in the conference room. A destination I would soon find filled with a sea of smiling faces, albeit there would be one tear filled one as I found myself beginning to cry once more over my intended fate.

It was at this point that Ms. Susan administered a coup-de-grace. "Hey missy, just thought you should now that I spiked your bottle with a strong diuretic called furosemide and any minute now you'll lose control of your bladder. At which point I believe I will make sure to ask Lauren if she'd be willing to change your wet bunny hopping panties. Everyone will think you're a pathetic little bed wetter as well as a sissy who can't help but pee himself. What will make this all the more enjoyable is I also made plans to have you helplessly rock hard in your that pathetic little cage of yours when she does courtesy of the Viagra that was also mixed in your juicy-juice. Just my way of making sure everyone knows just how truly excited you are over the way you are dressed and acting!"

With her declaration I knew that my male life was over, for after this I could never hope to lead a normal life, especially given that I recognized the Viagra might actually be overkill given my helpless euphoria over my new found excitement over my befrilled state. Strangely with that self-revelation my weeping changed from tears of shame, to ones of joy just in time for the conference door to open as Susan ushered me in before them. As I crossed the threshold into what had once been a seat of power for me I spurted my first shot of pee, piddling my panties in fear over what was to come.

As they in turn took in the sight of me in all my glorified effeminate frillies, the grins and open laughter that the sight of me collectively instilled in them caused me to wet myself a second time as they pushed forward to get a closer look at me. With that came more then a couple wandering hands dancing across my pantied bottom or fluffing up my flouncing skirts which in turn caused the already trembling Mr. Happy to push the bounds of his gilded cage.

With that Ms. Susan spoke up, "Ladies and gentlemen it is so good to see you all again. I'm sure you recognize this little darling, even though you are seeing him in a whole new light. One that he'd been dying to share with you for a long time, but could never find enough manly gumption to admit. However when he donned the newest little creation you see him in today, he couldn't deny himself or you the pleasure of seeing and knowing the real Johnny... or as he now prefers to be called Miss Prissy. A pansy persona that he admitted to me some time ago when he confessed how much he likes to dress as little girl. I was reticent at first as you may well imagine, but finally because I love him so much I couldn't let him come and show you on his own, so my friend Patricia and I brought him in so Johnny could say goodbye and Priscilla could say hello. For you see although Johnny will be stepping down as the manager here, realizing he just wasn't man enough for it-or anything else for that matter-he instead will be staying on as the newest girl in the office pool. A position he will obviously need to grow into so we've decided he will go to the bottom of the ladder whilst I will assume his former position.."

By this point every face before me was alight with smirks and grins not to mention a couple of the guys who were literally howling with laughter, especially when Lauren at Ms. Susan's bequest lifted up the front of my dress revealing the now slightly sodden juvenile panty combo hidden behind its lacy hem. As she did so Lauren read aloud the message embroidered on the front of the top layer, causing me to cringe all the more and I cringe as I realized I truly was now and forevermore my wife's Sissy Slave.

With that I felt a hand working its way into the back of my panties. I turned to see Ms. Susan doing a 'diaper' check, which caused my knees to buckle as just about fainted to the floor over the shame that was about to be revealed to all my gathered coworkers. With that Susan grinned at me while situating me front and center courtesy of her pulling on my reins as she commenced with her planned pronouncement.

"Unfortunately in all the excitement over being presented in his little girl tresses and dresses big bad Johnny here has wet himself. I'm wondering if you ask Lauren nicely enough if she'd be willing to help me change you?"

I would rather have died on the spot, yet I nevertheless employed the lisping voice Mistress had schooled me in to beseech Ms Lauren to assist while curtsying at her feet. I then cringed all the more as Lauren sneered at me, while taking me by my chin and looking deep into my tear filled eyes.

"Nothing would give me more pleasure! I'm sure all your associates would love to see what's revving your engine right now! Mrs. Pelletier, if its okay with you I'd love to change him on the conference room table here seeing as it was the site of him lording it over us on so many occasions."

Ms. Susan just laughed and told Lauren to show everyone what a panty wetting sissy I really am. At the same time Ms. Susan handed over my reins to my now ex-secretary turned superior with a complete look of total superiority written across her face. Only she and I knew that she had drugged me and that more 'accidents' could occur at any moment. What made this all the more debasing was the fact that my cock had never been so hard in all my life. As she handed over control to the women who I suddenly realized must have been involved from the get-go in the betrayal of my manhood Ms. Susan whispered into my ear.

"I want you on your best behavior, so any acting up and you'll be over my knee for a sound thrashing. Is that clear sissy? Oh and by the way, if anyone asks why you're hard tell them that you love being exposed for the simpering sissy that you are. I bet you weren't expecting this when you 'agreed' to my terms to save our marriage. Too bad you couldn't read minds or you might have known that it was I who was the unfaithful one with Lauren. I true double win in that I not only got my cake, but you get to eat it too!"

With that Lauren also got in the act.

"Don't you look divine, Prissy! So much better than your usual suit and tie, as a dress shows off your pretty set of lovely pink panties so much better. I bet you wish all your old friends and associates could see how effeminate you look just now, but you'll have to be happy with those of us here. However I do promise to make sure that the next year's advertising calendar mailing that goes out has a special picture of you on the cover... as well as every other month. In the meantime however you'll just have to be sated with the knowing belittlement of those of us here today."

With that she peeled down each of the three layers of my pantied humiliation in succession until the chastity-chastened state of my defeated manhood was displayed for one and all. With that revelation work mates took their place in line to either settle for a mocking up-close look at my emasculated predicament, or in many cases, for a hands-on involvement in ringing the bell that tolled the loss of my manhood..

Most of the ladies giggled and tittered, however every male to a man sneered and called me a sissy. That is all but one, for Brad Simons looked at me with a hunger. To wit I noticed Ms. Susan making a mental note, but didn't have the chance to do anything about it as the woman who worked with me collectively quickly gathered about to join in my changing of the panties. Many asked what had precipitated my sudden self-expose to which my darling wife took great delight in explaining the manufactured 'facts' that led to this place in time.

"All you can do with a sissy like Johnny is to panty them, humiliate them and expose them, for nothing else will either satisfy their desire to have the world know the truth of their libido or satisfy your need for retribution. Especially when you then go out and get a real man like I did."

"If Prissy were my sissy I'd make sure he was not only sorry he had betrayed you, but that he hadn't had the decency to recognize that the only satisfaction a sissy should be concerned with is the one he is providing. He then went on to explain that from what he'd read that sissies in chastity had no expectations of an orgasm other then the one being deposited in them and that he would be more then happy to reinforce that lesson. Adding that most sissies need to be disciplined at first, and that he would be willing to provide the kind of panty whopping that would not only clarify that fact, but which would leave me publicly sobbing in hopeless shame in a manner that would leave an indelible memory with me of my failed attempt to be a real man myself!"

The gathered staff hooted and hollered as Ms. Susan agreed and I was subsequently positioned across Brad's knee so that I might be put in my place, however a shocked silence rippled through them as Lauren peeled back the last sodden layer of my bunny hopping panties and my evidently engorged caged cissy cock was exposed. At which point Lauren initiated a whole new round of ribald comments and belittling laughter when she took up the mantle of my further verbal humiliation.

"Does wetting your panties make you hard sissy or might it be the thought of being bent over a real man's knees? I bet you love messing yourself, so that little maggot of yours grows to be as big and hard as an inch worm."

"Time for you to take a little discipline sissy! Over my lap for a smacking that I'm sure all the ladies will enjoy seeing, as I guarantee that you will squirm for them in a most entertaining way!"

Brad then began to spank me with his open hand, however least you be deluded as to the firmness thereof he delivered them with the callused force of a blacksmith. To my chagrin as each smack turned my bottom both redder and sorer, the tears flowing from my eyes were in direct proportion to the excited oozing that emitted from my encapsulated cock from being bounced across his lap. The end result being that he was both blistering my bottom and wanking me off in front of everyone at the same time. A juxtaposition that left my blubbering lips crying no-no, at the same time there was yes-yes threatening to erupt from my thighs.

Well that is that for this update. I hope that my Mistress dictates have entertained you at my expense and that this fits some need of your letter or story page. If so I will send more, as I not only have a tale to tell about my first fishing exhibition with the three guys who used to be my fishing buddies, which gives new meaning to the term 'friends', but also an update on how I am fairing as a menial secretary. Especially when I am called upon to entertain the same customers I once took for a round of golf. Needless to say I still find myself playing with a little white ball given the demographics of NH, however they now come in pairs and we don't usually leave the office to play.

Until then I remain a joyous Nancy thrall to Mistress's wishes as I who learn daily the insights of being a good sissy. To that end I thank you for all that she has picked up from your site.

Respectfully yours,
Missy Prissy Priscilla

Thank you for your letter Priscilla. How delightful to hear from you again and with such a special and exciting update about your further development into a very feminine sissy. I'm sure all your former co-workers were thrilled with your display of shame. I love all the details you provided and please thank your Mistress for allowing you the time to write. I just love your new name, Priscilla, don't you?

Though I suspect for many readers, your story sounds like fiction, let me assure you my dear readers, I know these wonderful people and this is real.

Auntie Helga

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Letter 7