If Women Ruled The World Ch 03

I studied the bottle of luminous green liquid carefully before introducing it to the bathwater. As the instructions directed, I then stirred it in until the formula had uniformly dispersed. Its sickly look mirrored the growing feeling in the pit of my stomach. I then attached a curious gauze just above my genitals covering part of my pubic hair and gingerly stepped into the toxic looking bath. Very quickly hairs of various lengths floated to the surface as I submerged. Disturbed by what was happening, I hopped out and wiped my leg to find that all of the hairs had somehow been scythed off by the chemical, leaving smooth patches wherever I touched.

"What the hell?!" This was too much for me to take. Why should I remove my body hair, for whose benefit? The more I considered things, the more I edged closer to plucking up the nerve to do something about it. But when? How? My lack of knowledge of the outside world made me feel small and ill-equipped.

My intense deliberation was broken as Mistress Walker cooed through the door, "Are you almost done in there, sissy?"

That word again. "Almost, Mistress."

Fearing the consequences should She walk in, I stepped back into the bath and doomed myself to a hairless body. With a sponge I then quickly introduced another more viscous formula to my chin for a few minutes before washing it away. If I'd had any hairs on my face, I'm sure it would have removed them too.

After the requisite amount of time had passed, I got out and dried myself off before letting the water and all my body hair go. I continued to read the instructions and to my horror I found that it was a single-use hair removal fluid and no hair would grow on my body again where the substance made contact! So that's why the instructions were so precise. Unnerved I looked down at my slim, pale body, forever shorn of its hair save for the gauze. My pinkish nipples seemed to stand out. "That does it." Subconsciously I began priming myself for an escape attempt. I then removed the gauze to find a very feminine looking tuft where my once thick pubic hair had been. If possible, my heart sank further.

The next set of instructions told me to spray myself with the purple bottle. It was nothing drastic as far as I could tell, just perfume, sweet, sugary perfume. As I removed my shower cap, Mistress knocked at the door.

"You should be finished by now, sissy!" She didn't wait for an answer before entering. Instantly, Her eyes found my body as I embarrassedly tried to cover my half-erect willy and nipples. She stifled a grin once more, "looks like we're 90% there already!"

My face turned red with horror and anger at my visibly emasculated, smooth body as She reached for my arm and powerfully dragged me back into 'my' pink room. "I bet you're so excited to see your new wardrobe, aren't you?!" The dominant, curly-haired redhead seemed impatient and determined. Again, She didn't wait for a response. The doors were flung open and dress after pretty pink dress stared back at me. Finally, it was more than I could take: a tear rolled down my cheek, then another and another which I tried to catch, with my hands I tried to cover up my face, my eyes turning red. I hadn't cried in years.

Mistress looked for my response, "Oh, oh sweetie, I KNEW you'd love it! You'll finally be like you always wanted! Oh, there, there" That was the complete opposite of how I felt; I wanted to push Her off and run far, far away, but encased in Her strong, tight hug, I once again found myself paralysed. I could feel the pressure of Her large breasts against my chest as I continued to cry, shudder and snivel.

"Lets get you some makeup so you can get dressed, hmm? Will that make you feel better?" I wiped away my tears trying to steady myself and locate the anger that pervaded my being not 2 minutes ago. Her voice rose in volume slightly at my lack of a response, "Will that make you feel better, SISSY?" I looked up into Her sparkling green eyes once more and they told me to respond. Feeling evermore broken, I nodded.

"OK!" She lit up once more and sat me down, before turning to the dresser which was cluttered with makeup. "Aside from being so obedient, I picked you for a sissy because you aced all of your makeup and fashion exams. Sooo... show me - beautify yourself." It was true. I had spent many long years practicing putting makeup on the lifelike dummies at school, simply because I was told to. I was considered an 'expert' at it and always got very good grades in this class.

"I know perfectly well how to do my own makeup, of course" Mistress Walker continued as she studied her pencil skirt that bulged with her large round bottom in the full length mirror, "but I would eventually like you to do it for me, exactly and as quickly as I desire. I know you're capable of giving me the most professional looks." She then sat and watched me as I fought to hold back tears and gradually applied the makeup automatically thinking about what colours and tones my face would suit. Of course, when handling makeup and fashion at school the thought had crossed my mind what it would look like on myself, but never once had I acted on it.

Mistress seemed genuinely intrigued as She observed me struggling with my emotions. I wanted to throw the makeup down, push Her out of my way and run. I glanced at Her as She propped Her head up on Her hand which in turn was propped on Her knee. Could She tell what I was thinking? Through all of the trauma and confusion I couldn't help but realise how beautiful She was. Her reddish curls hung about Her pale face and Her green eyes gleamed at me with rude health. Being this close to a Female was intoxicating, drunkening and more than a little disturbing. She looked so delicate but seemed physically stronger than me, taller and more commanding, sure of what She wanted, especially from me. I gradually turned back to the mirror and soon mascara covered eyes and glazed lips jumped out from my boyish face in the dresser mirror.

Mistress smiled and clapped, "bravo, very impressive, now for clothes!" She pounced over to the wardrobe and delighted in picking an entire outfit for me, everything from underwear to shoes. I started to snivel again as the frilly clothing built up on the bed.

"Hmm, stockings or tights?" She asked Herself before grabbing the nude stockings with pink lace tops and matching garterbelt. She placed them with the other clothes as She sat once more, this time much closer to me. "It says in your Sissy Bible that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery," She began, "This means that every feminine sissy must make herself a tribute to Womankind. You must always take pride in your appearance, dressing in the most feminine articles possible. You have all the attributes to keep both me and you looking beautiful and sexy. I expect you to never let me or yourself down, do you hear, young miss?"

I gulped hard and snivelled a bit more, my bottom lip quivering, "Yes Mistress."

"Good. I want you to read your Sissy Bible every chance you can. It contains lots of useful information about the big wide world you're stepping into and your place in it. After you're dressed, come find me downstairs." With that She got up and left.

The book was very large and heavy in my hands and as one would expect, it was pink. I flicked through a couple of pages as my nail polish dried, careful not to get it anywhere. On first glance there seemed to be a lot of stuff about breeding, DNA and good stock, which left me nonplussed. I closed the book and dwelled on my predicament again, as I inspected my new sugary pink fingernails and toes. All this time in school I thought that I'd be helping Women wear all these things, little did I realise it was partly intended for me too. I can't believe I didn't ask more questions - why did I have to be so obedient and diligent?! Why was I such a pushover, a goody, goody? I guess I liked receiving the praise of the teachers too much, addicted to the pat on the head and the approving smile. Especially from Female teachers.

The dress was utterly horrifying with puffy pink petticoats and a large bow in the back. I assessed the underwear: a high leg lacy thong with a stretchy sheer front panel all in pink, a matching bra and garterbelt, a pair of high heeled court shoes. Gulping, I picked up the thong and noticed the logo, 'Miss Priss'. Am I really expected to dress like this? Do Women dress like this? With a sudden rush of adrenaline I put the thong down and decided to make a break for it, resolving to find my old clothes. Did I leave them in the bathroom where I took them off? With absolute caution I cracked open the door of my pink room and checked the hallway before tiptoeing down the corridor. In the distance I could hear the muffled sounds of laughter from a television. I made it safely to the bathroom but there was nothing on the floor! Nothing. She had taken them. My heart was knocked so hard and heavy I swayed and perspired as I tiptoed back to my room, suddenly conscious of the makeup on my face, my hairless naked body and my very nearly dry pink finger and toe nails. Choices: I could attempt to leave naked and find some clothes from somewhere; I could wear these horrible sissy clothes and at least cover myself up; Or I could bide my time, find my clothes then make a break for it later.

If Her behaviour so far was anything to go by I knew Mistress would soon be coming so I defeatedly picked up the thong. It felt so delicate and fragile in my hands as I stepped into it and pulled it up. But as it passed my hairless knees and I saw my feminine pink toes covered in nail varnish, something unexpected happened: my willy became incredibly hard and stood straight up. I panicked trying to somehow force it down or think of something that would take my mind off what I was doing. 5 confusing minutes later, as I looked at it encased in these pretty pink knickers, my erection was harder than ever. I sighed once more in defeat and pulled on the sheer bra. Everything fitted me so well, it was hard to believe that She could have known all my sizes so accurately so quickly. The nude stockings came next and I bunched them up before pointing one of my hairless stems into the slender fabric. The stockings coated my legs with a thin film of nylon subtly evening out the contours of my legs. They had to be less than 10 denier, maybe even 7, since I could easily see my painted toenails through the nylon. I attached them to the garter belt and turned around.

My bottom lip quivered as I caught sight of my lingerie clad body in the mirror. The image instantly created a strange frisson in my body, like a war of hormones and emotion, just like the girlish image before me tainted by the still boyish, short-haired look to my musculature and face. This was surely a form of torture, of slavery, and I felt so fractured, in pieces almost. The dress came next and I lowered it over my head before pulling it down until it looked even in the mirror. I gulped hard feeling ridiculous, utterly ridiculous - how could this possibly be a tribute to Womankind? The worst thing was that the dress was so short you could see my bare backside, and even worse, my erect willy. I tried pulling harder on the dress to cover myself up but it made no difference, it was clearly designed to not cover up my nether regions. Unless I could find a way of getting rid of my erection, my body would betray me and Mistress would see. She would then think I liked all of this horrible stuff!

There was only one way. My breath laboured as I pulled down my sheer thong and began to stroke my 11cm willy. As I did so I couldn't help but notice how feminine my hands now looked. Neither could I believe how hard or how close to orgasming I was so soon. I watched as this very feminine boy cum hard in the mirror with one or two spurts. It was one of the most intense orgasms I'd ever had and it caused me to grunt. As my senses returned I found some convenient tissues with which to clean up the mess. Thankfully, my erection faded and I tucked it into my thong.

Steadying myself, I then put on the 4.5 inch pink court shoes. Again they fitted perfectly, with the stockings giving just enough of a slip to make them easy to get on. I stood toppling on them and wobbled very carefully over to the door not wanting my erection to return so soon.

Mistress Walker was lead on Her couch watching the television as I entered the room. "Oh!" She cooed at the sight of me as Her eyes fell embarrassingly to my crotch. "Oh." Her intonation noticeably dipped, "do you not like the clothes I bought for you?"

I gulped getting the distinct impression She was very disappointed. "Um, y-yes, Mistress."

Her brow furrowed, "Are you lying to me, sissy?" The large bottomed redhead sat up, "I would have thought you'd like wearing pretty, feminine clothes that suit your physique so much better than that boring sexless school uniform. Maybe you don't like sensually rolling stockings up your legs pretending you're a beautiful Woman like me?"

I looked at Her pleadingly, feeling a heat rising in my cheeks but also, devastatingly, in my groin.

"I would have thought you'd love learning to walk in those sexy pink heels that make your pantied bum stick out. Hmm? Maybe I was wrong about you, maybe you wouldn't like to worship me and my body while wearing all of these clothes?" She writhed on the couch basking in my torture before continuing, "And maybe I won't introduce you to other Mistress' sissies so you can fall in love and rub your little white willies together?" With that She laughed loudly and watched with satisfaction as my willy shamefully hardened, tenting my knickers once more. I was utterly horrified at the sight and once again couldn't help the tears streaming down my cheeks as I cried really hard, unstoppably so, rooted to the spot.

"Good, very good." She seemed pleased at my predicament. "There are plenty of tissues in your room. I think you're going to need them both for your constant crying and... other things." With that I charged out of the room and tried to get out of the front door. It was locked. I tried another door, it was locked too. A window? Locked. I could hear Her laughter still ringing out from the living room and with it the futility of the situation dawning on me. After 5 defeating minutes trying exits I slinked back to my room. While there I did everything I could think of aside from masturbating again to get my erection to disappear but it wouldn't. If anything it just grew stronger, especially when I caught sight of myself in the mirror and felt all of these delicate fabrics against my skin. What was happening to me?