(fetish, sissy, feminization, modification, consensual, reluctant, FLR)
Author's Note: This is a work of fiction. It is a story of sexual fantasies and fetishes. These sexual practices are not for everyone, but those of us who delve into them understand the allure. The characters in the story certainly do. If you enjoy this story and the fetishes involved, great. If not, please forget the whole thing.
Read parts one and two of Sissy, first.
Logan and Dilan headed home from their island adventure anxious to get home and to bed. It had been a long and exhausting trip.
As Dilan was back in what classified for him as 'street clothes' - women's slacks and blouse, he was immediately pegged as a phenomenal sissy, or perhaps a man in a woman's body.
His makeup was lightly applied, as Logan required, so his face looked the part.
He had done his best to wrap his breasts, with materials bought at the resort. It was effective to a point, and decidedly uncomfortable. It had made for a miserable flight, even though they were in first class.
Of course, as they moved around the airport Dilan drew stares from people in the concourse, and the luggage area, and from the Uber driver who carried them home. Dilan ignored them all. Much of it was due to his outfit. He was back to wearing a woman's slacks and shoes, and a blouse that was stretched over his new breasts. But his face, was no longer made up like a girl's.
The Uber driver did his best to ignore him, but he did spend time admiring Logan in his rear-view mirror. She paid him no attention.
Finally in the door, they quickly stripped off their clothes, donned nightgowns and went to bed, to sleep off the jet lag.
When Dilan woke up, Logan was already up and out, and per usual, one of his French Maids uniforms was all laid out for him.
He took a quick shower, applied some light makeup, brushed his hair into the bob, he'd become used to, and then slipped on panties, and stockings, laced himself into one of his corsets, slipped on the uniform with its insanely short skirt and petticoats, added pumps with four-inch spikes and buckled their ankle straps, and then, finally, examined himself in the big wall mirror in their bedroom.
He looked almost as he used to, before their trip. Except for the girlish blonde hair, and the dangly earrings, and the polished fingernails. His new breasts weren't visible beneath the top of the uniform. The bra and breast forms he used to wear weren't suitable for display, so his maid's uniforms weren't low cut to reveal massive amounts of cleavage, like Yvette's.
Now that he had the breasts for it, he assumed Logan would insist on a replacement wardrobe - a more revealing one.
Making sure all was perfect, he headed down to the kitchen to find his lover and get something to eat.
Thankfully, it was a Sunday so he didn't have to do engage in any company work. But he knew he had numerous chores to perform around the house.
"Good morning, Mistress" he said happily, as he walked into the kitchen to see her sitting at the counter on her computer, catching up on emails.
"Good morning my love. It's great to see you back to normal. And I do like your hair like that."
Unconsciously he brushed it out of his eye, like he'd learned to do. And that brought a smile to Logan's lips.
"Thanks, but I'll have to put it into a pony-tail or a man-bun when I'm on a work call or I go out."
"I suppose," she said, disappointed. "I suppose you're right, that's definitely a girl's look, not a sissy boy's."
"Yes Mistress."
"Why don't you make us breakfast while I catch up?"
"I will. I'm starved and I imagine you are as well."
After they'd eaten, Dilan started on his chores. He spent the morning unpacking and working his way through the wash. Then he prepared lunch.
"So, what's on your agenda for this afternoon?" Logan asked as they were finishing their meal.
"Well, I must go grocery shopping, the refrigerator and the cupboards are bare. At least for anything that would spoil. I unloaded those things before we left. That should take a couple of hours."
"Good, then I'll call Laverne and see if she can't come over around four to measure you for your new uniforms and corsets."
Laverne was a friend, and an expert seamstress. She and Logan had met at the hospital where Logan operated on, and saved her invalid husband's life. They'd become great friends, even though there was almost a thirty-year age difference. It was Laverne who custom made all of Dilan's corsets and uniforms. They fit him perfectly and she never commented on his boy's body.
"New corsets too?" he asked. He hated the uncomfortable and restrictive things, and was afraid new ones would be even less palatable.
"Of course, corsets. We talked about it. Not only do you need new ones to better support your breasts, but we also want to reduce your waist to give you a better shape."
When Dilan didn't respond immediately, she prompted him, "right?"
"Yes Mistress."
Logan nodded. "I really want to see you in uniforms that show off your cleavage, like your dream girl Yvette. And the sooner Laverne gets your new measurements, the sooner you'll be more like the sexy French maid you dreamt of."
After cleaning up the kitchen Dilan changed to go out. He couldn't wear his maids uniform out in public, it would be too embarrassing, even for him. So, he took out one of his street clothes outfits. A woman's yellow blouse, black stretch slacks with a flat front and zipper up the back, and simple black, wedgie pumps with two-inch heels. He'd wear those things over his corset, panties and stockings.
He used to simply take off his bra and breast forms, so he could at least look like a flat-chested guy, in shirt and pants, even though they were all feminine cuts.
But now he had to hide his breasts. And find a more comfortable and successful method than the make-shift solution he'd used for the flight home.
He'd had time during their trip to develop a plan for the situation. He searched through Logan's extensive collection of medical supplies until he found two, wide rolls of stretchy bandages. And then he laboriously began wrapping them around his chest, flattening his new breasts.
It was difficult to manage, and difficult to accomplish. Twisting and wrapping the bandages was a challenge especially in his corset. And pulling them tight enough to crush his big tits flat was again both painful and almost impossible. The implants were huge and resisted being squashed.
When he had finally gotten the wrappings in place, and his chest as flat as he thought possible, he slipped on his blouse and was disappointed and frightened by the result. He still had breasts, and his blouse was obviously over-stretched covering them. Damn!
