The Lacy Place

Evelyn's first shopping experience [Invite Only]

This topic contains 39 replies, has 3 voices, and was last updated by  Greta 1 week ago.

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     Mistress Sadie 

    Continued from here:

    <OOC:  For those wondering why on earth Evelyn (my sub) is dressed so Domme and I (as the Mistress) am dressed like a baby girl, you’ll have to read the above link, as there’s a lot of backstory  😛 >



    “Keep still”, I say gently.  “I don’t want to smudge this.”   I stand back a little, holding the lipstick tube in my hand.  “You look perfect.”  I am obviously very pleased with my work as I am beaming a huge smile.

    “I want you to look perfect for our shopping trip today.  I’ve already phoned ahead to one of the stores and they are expecting us.  There’s a lovely lady who is going to help you with your new style.   I’ve told her all about you”.  There’s something in my tone that doesn’t sound particularly reassuring somehow…

    “Up..”, I say simply, guiding you from the chair, over to the full length mirror – the soft black dress I picked for you last night brushing your stockinged legs as you walk.

    The boots on your feet making you considerably taller than me – giving exactly the effect I wanted.

    I have spent an inordinate amount of time on your makeup this morning, and have brushed out and straightened your hair in as feminine a style as I can muster.   “I know it’s taken a long time”, I say, “But it will get quicker after we’ve had your hair done and made some of the changes I talked about last night”. I position you in front of the mirror allowing you to see the finished makeup look.

    The black lips, setting off the dark smokey eyes make you look both seductive and quite domineering.   I come and stand next to you, wrapping my arm around your waist – making the contrast between us even more defined.

    In my dress that BARELY covers my heavily padded diaper and rear, thick white little girl tights and my adorable shoes we look so different.  I am much smaller in stature now and as I move, my little pigtails held up in big be-ribboned bows, sway and bounce gently as I move.

    “You look so cute”, I say – watching your expression as you see yourself fully made up for the first time – allowing you to take in how we both look.

    “…but I do have one more thing for you. Something SPECIAL”.  I wander over to the suitcase and rummage around.  “Close your eyes….”, I say.  “No peeking”.   You can hear me fussing with something as I walk back to you moments later.

    “Now….”, I say gently.  “It’s about time we collared you isn’t it my sweet.   After last night I know how desperate you are to serve me and I know how DESPERATE you are to wear my collar.” I giggle.  “So I’m going to make it official I think…a symbol that we are linked”.

    You hear me fussing once more, as you feel me brushing your hair back, giving your neck a little kiss. “No peeking”, I repeat as you feel the touch of leather at your neck, and something enveloping it.  “Good girl”, I say, fussing with the buckle.  “Let’s just get this padlock in.  There we go my sweet.”  You hear a click as I lean into your ear and whisper “Locked on forever.”  I grin.

    “Perfect”, I say, pushing your hair back into position.  “…to wear my collar, just like you wanted.  You may open your eyes.”



    After breakfast, you make me sit up straight on a stool near your dressing table, without moving, whilst you attend to my make-up. I love your manner. You leave me in no doubt about exactly what you expect of me; when I must obey, when I may choose; and sometimes, asking my opinion. Always firm, but with a gentle kindness that I have come to recognise.

    I have only ever used simple cosmetics before. Some concealer, to hide the marks left by a careless electrolysis treatment for my facial hair; powder to conceal the concealer; little colour to cover my pale cheeks. Sometimes, if I am feeling especially brave, pale pink lipstick, but hardly any. I so fear being ridiculed for my appearance. I hate the idea of standing out in a crowd.

    You give me butterflies in my tummy when you say, “I don’t want to smudge this.” As you stand back, “You look perfect.” You add with a smile that would melt ice. It would not be an exaggeration to say you are delighted with my appearance.

    The way that you tell me about ‘the kind lady’ who is going to help us ‘with my style’ makes me feel a little apprehensive. I shrug it off.. I will keep close to Mistress, she will make sure I am well treated.

    I love the unfamiliar feel of my stockings as I walk with you over to the mirror. My new dress is lovely. It has lace netting trim and a modest lace cover for my dainty cleavage, right up to a low neckband. It swishes when I walk. I struggle a bit with the heeled boots you made me wear. I feel uncomfortably tall and I wobble a bit. But they have dainty bows at the sides and my dress comes down to my mid calf so I am happy not to be showing any leg.

    You are quite matter-of-fact as you explain how much quicker it will be when you do all the changes you told me about last night. I struggle to remember them all. You make a few finishing touches with your hand to my hair as you turn me to the full length mirror. I feel your arm encircle my waist as I see for the first time, a dramatic, scary woman staring at me. Is that me? My mouth falls open. “I .. .. I. .. I” my stammer is all I can manage. I am lost for words. Black lips and grey hollow eyes. I only know that it is me because I see you next to me in your cute little baby girl outfit. And you seem to have shrunk too!

    I hear you but I don’t believe it, “You look so cute”. I think, “Surely that is you? You are the cute one, with your baby doll bows in your pig-tailed hair.”

    I have almost recovered enough to speak when I hear you say, “I do have one more thing for you. Something very special”

    I instinctively obey when you tell me to close my eyes. So, I hear but do not see what you are doing. You are clearly excited about some secret. In my mind’s eye I still see the scary woman looking at me from the mirror as I hear you say, “It’s about time we collared you, isn’t it my sweet. After last night I know how desperate you are to serve me and I know how desperate you are to wear my collar.” I hear your giggle. I remember you asking me if I would like to wear your collar, when I was aroused last night. “So I’m going to make it official I think…a symbol that we are linked”.

    I feel you pulling my hair out of the way and your lips kiss my neck. “No peeking” you teasingly say, as I feel you placing something around my neck.
    “Good girl”, I hear. “Let’s just get this padlock in. .. .. There we go my sweet.” I hear a click and your honeyed voice whisper “Locked on forever.”

    “Perfect”, I hear you say, “…to wear my collar, just like you wanted. Now! You may open your eyes.”

    I obey.  I am beside myself with shock as I see, not a pretty collar with my name on it. I see a fearsome, thick, spiked, black leather collar emblazoned with the single word, “MISTRESS”. This is not the pretty collar that I imagined at all.

    At last I find words, “Oh .. Oh .. Mistress, I thought that you were going to take me shopping. I can’t go out like this” I exclaim. “What if someone sees me? What if we meet Miss Jacqueline? What will she think?” I stagger. In fact, were you not holding me so firmly, I think that I would fall over in a faint. “Black lipstick! And my eyes!” A pantomime of horror dances before my eyes as I see crowds of onlookers pointing and sniggering at me. And you, my pretty little girlie Mistress trotting along beside me! “No,” I finally think to myself, “You are just trying to frighten me”. I look down into your eyes and see them look admiringly at me and know that I am wrong. You are serious. I must go out with you like this. I feel as if I am going to be sick as I imagine how I much will stand out in the crowded mall!


     Mistress Sadie 

    I watch your facial expression closely as you realise what I have done, and am inwardly smug that this whole ensemble is having such a profound impact on you – just as I’d anticipated. As you begin to whine I deliberately ignore you – instead giving you a ‘look’ that a parent would give a small child who is misbehaving.

    “Hush!” I say firmly. “No more!”

    I take hold of your hand, pulling you away from the mirror, and lead you towards the apartment’s front door – almost dragging you as we get closer to it.  “I’m so excited!”, I say grinning, opening the door and practically pushing you through it. “It’s going to be so much fun getting clothes for you IF you behave yourself”.

    Outside in the corridor, a maid is cleaning a picture on the wall.  She turns at the commotion, takes one look at you and instantly casts her eyes to the floor.   “Sorry Mistress”, she says quietly to you.  “I hope I’m not in the way”.  Trying not to giggle I pipe in, in the best little girl voice I can muster.

    “I am tho happy”, I say bouncing on the balls of my feet.  “Mithdweth ith taking me to the mall to get pwetty dwetheth today”.

    The maid stifles a little giggle, still looking at the floor.

    “…an….an….if I a good girl I gonna get a new dollie to play with”.

    She raises her eyes just a little – just enough to look us over, and I can see the realisation dawning on her face. She makes eye contact with me just for a second, then flicks her gaze back to the floor. However the temptation is too much and she looks up again, biting her lip as if unsure what to do or say.   From behind your back I give her a little wink and watch her half-smile before she turns around – clearly trying to hide her face without bursting into a fit of the giggles.

    “Come on…come on…”.   I say excitedly, tugging at your hand.  “Can we go look at the pwetty dwetheth now?”

    In that moment I start pulling you away, as the maid practically explodes with laughter.   She simply can’t hold onto it anymore and can’t contain herself.

    As we reach the elevator luckily the doors are open, and as I step inside I just break down in fits of the giggles.  “Oh my god”, I exclaim, clutching my belly.  “Oh my god that was so funny!”.    I push the button so we can descend.

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    I look at you still, with pleading eyes, they beg you for a smile to say you tease me. All this is just your little jest.

    But no, all I see is just a withering stare of mild annoyance. A look that makes me feel so small and abandoned. I shudder at your cold rebuke.

    Like a wayward child eager for forgiveness,  I comply.

    My head is swimming in disbelief. I am torn in two from moment to moment. I feel my breasts press together and upwards as I breath. This brassiere you put me in makes me feel so .. .. so girly .. I glimpse down, avoiding the creature in the mirror. I cling to the sight of my breasts. “Yes,| I say to myself, over and over again.”Yes .. .. yes, yes, they are my breasts! So voluptuous, .. mine.” I concentrate hard.

    I feel you lead me away but as I realise we go towards the door, I find myself pulling back. It is as if someone else; someone other than your meek little Sissy Evelyn defies you. You pull me forward; she pulls me back. I am propelled through the now gaping door. Thrust out, despite my desperate resistance.

    Words seem to fill my ears, “.. so exciting? .. so much fun? .. “ They are the exact opposite of what I feel. I am so ‘flat’, so feeble .. my poor sissy-clitty is shrivelling away. But two words repeat, again and again, ‘must obey’ , .. ‘must obey’.

    Like a heavy vault door slamming on my hopes, the apartment door closes. I have no retreat. As you push me in front of you, unseen lips speak, as if to me. “Sorry Mistress”, they cringe to say, “I hope I’m not in your way”. A darting glance tells me it is a maid.  I meet her anxious gaze and immediately look down again.  I am too shocked to blush, but feel a flush in my throat.

    I do not even think to reply, with my downcast eyes. Then up strikes a tiny, sing-song voice. By the time that I realise it is you, I have lost their meaning. They lisp into the still air of the corridor, mockingly, speaking of pretty dresses and a dollie!

    In the silence creeps a muffled sound that I cannot place. There it is again, as you come to my front, take my hand again and pull me towards the elevator. It becomes a nasal splutter; then a clear chuckle; now a stifled laugh; and, as I am propelled into the mirrored elevator, it erupts into a gale of liberated laughter.

    The sanctuary of the elevator mocks me with images of me on all sides. I see a sweet excited child hopping from foot to foot, giggling with glee. “Oh my god”, she repeats, “Oh my god that was so funny!”

    You can barely contain yourself.  The ‘woosh’ in my tummy tells me we are going down. Down, with that special muted whisper that elevators have. I stare at my feet and tell myself how graceful the laced fronts look; what a pretty contradiction the black petalled flowers have. I try to concentrate on the discomfort in my calves. They complain of their new tensions to offer welcome distraction. My heart calms a little

     Mistress Sadie 

    I am still giggling a little as the elevator reaches the ground floor – both at the incident but also how mortified you look. However I say nothing, as I don’t want to instigate another bout of whining on your part.

    Luckily for you (and disappointingly for me), the corridor is empty as we step out, and walking through the corridors whilst following the signs to the mall is uneventful.  I am clearly happy, as I intersperse my half-skipping with humming an unidentifiable nursery rhyme.  Being dressed as I am clearly doesn’t bother me one bit – in fact, it seems to have had a very positive effect on my mood.   To all intents and purposes, I simply appear as a happy and confident (albeit adult sized) carefree little girl.

    We eventually arrive at a set of double doors which I push open – into a bright airy mall area.

    “Yay”, I say excitedly, pulling you forward onto the concourse.  “This is going to be so much fun”.   I am slightly disappointed that there aren’t many people around – which I assume is due to the time of the morning.  Sensing your hesitation I pull you forward again and almost hiss under my breath – “What did I tell you about behaving yourself” – and jerk your hand forward.

    Pointing in the distance I gesticulate to a store “That’s where we’re going.  It’s not far, now come on!”


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    “Sie werden bald hier sein.”  The woman looks up from her PDA at the sudden intrusion to her silence. The sissy in front of her visibly shakes, looking at the floor wringing her hands nervously.  “Sie verließen vor 15 minuten”

    The woman nods, flicking back a stray lock of hair over her shoulder – a half-smile forming on her lips.

    “Du kannst jetzt gehen”, she replies softly, snapping her fingers and pointing at the door.

    As she watches the sissy scuttle away, she switches to a heavily accented English.  “STOP!

    The sissy turns and instinctively casts her eyes to the floor.

    “Make sure they are separated.  Take Sadie to the creche and bring Evelyn to me. If you mess this up you know what I will do to you, don’t you?”

    The sissy whimpers and wrings her hands again.

    The woman returns to gazing at her PDA, the sissy still rooted to the spot.

    “GO!”, she shouts, not looking up, waving hand towards the door. “Go! Go! Get out of here!”

    The woman stretches and stands, arching her back and rolling her shoulders before putting her PDA onto standby and placing it on the table next to her.

    As she walks away from it, the Melandren Corporation logo appears, spinning brightly on the screen before it turns black.

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    Gradually, I feel a sense of normality return as the memory of the maid’s mirth fades. You continue to giggle from time to time as my tummy settles, I regain control of my bladder. I find your silence ominous. The sudden flip of my stomach tells me we have arrived. I steel myself as the doors open.

    We step out into the corridor. I hear nothing. I venture to glance up from my boots. My heart lifts with them as I see an empty corridor before me. Automatically, I follow your playful skipping path. Your evident delight calms me more. I find your presence the only crumb of comfort so I step out boldly to keep up with you. I concentrate on the little tune you hum. What is it? I half recall it. I hum it in my head along to match your rhythm. The preoccupation takes away some of my awkwardness so I begin to feel more confident. I must try to please you. I must, I tell myself.

    As a set of large doors come into view, you skip forward quickly and push them open, crying out with joy, “This is going to be so much fun”, as you step back, take my hand and pull me through.

    The mall is almost empty, to my relief. To encourage me on wards, your piping sing-song voice turns to a veiled whisper, “What did I tell you about behaving yourself?” as I feel your grip tighten and pull me forward

    Back in your happy tone, your enthusiasm returns. Pointing straight ahead, you say, “That’s where we’re going. It’s not far, now come on!”

    The thought of maybe having some less conspicuous clothes soon lifts my spirits and lightens my step. Your little joke will soon be over. I am feeling more confident on my heels as well. Things are looking up. I must stay close to you so I hold tightly in return,

     Mistress Sadie 

    We wander across the mall concourse, with me gazing into windows and stopping periodically.  The odd person looks at us, or rather me, but disappointingly pays you rather less attention.  In fact, the only smirks or wry smiles seem to be focussed in my direction.  Perhaps I made her TOO convincing, I think to myself and sigh inwardly.

    Upon reaching our destination, a large clothing store, I let you know we are here – squeezing your hand a little as if for reassurance.

    Just as we step inside, and before we can even take stock of the place, we are immediately greeted by a smart looking woman in a pink top and black skirt – her hair swept back into a bun.

    She looks at the pair of us, then to you before curtsying deeply.

    “Welcome Mistress Evelyn”, she says softly.  “My name is Sissy Jessica”, she curtsies again, “…and I’m going to be your personal shopper for today.”  She smiles sweetly.  “…and this ADORABLE baby gurl must be Sissy Sadie.”

    She returns to looking at you.   “Sissy Sadie called ahead this morning Mistress and said that you would be coming to do some shopping for some clothes.”  I stifle a giggle and look at you.

    Not breaking her speech, as if reading from a script, she continues.

    “We have a fully equipped creche for your sissy, Mistress.  It would be my pleasure to call one of our nannies to collect her.  I can assure you our qualified staff will ensure she is naturally breast fed, provided with plenty of sensory play and allowed to nap in comfort during your shopping experience with us.”

    She smiles eagerly.  “Would you like me to do that for you Mistress?”


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    “Sehr gut..”, the woman says, watching the monitor, listening to the sissy’s greeting through an audio feed. “Sehr gut..”

    She picks up her cane and bends it a little, giving it a little flex – before striking the air and smiling at the wooshing sound. “…es wird nicht mehr lange dauern”

    Returning her gaze to the monitor she raises the level of the audio feed, keen to see what happens next.



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    By the time we reach the clothes store that you have chosen, I am almost feeling normal.  Your lively, excited chatter has reassured me that you intend me no further embarrassment.  In fact as people seem to defer to me, I almost feel relaxed. When you squeeze my hand in excitement, I feel quite heady, almost elated at my close escape.

    And what a sight greets us as we enter. How I would swap my outfit with the vision who approaches us. Such modest hair, demure posture, a ‘to-die-for-pink’ wrap-around top, knee length pencil skirt and those sandals! Just the sort my Mummy said nice girls didn’t wear. They would be my only signal that I was a little .. .. naughty!  She used to call them FMs, with their suggestive ankle straps of which she disapproved.

    “Welcome Mistress Evelyn”, she says with deference. “I am Sissy Jessica. I’m going to be your personal shopper for today.” She smiles sweetly. “…and this adorable baby gurl must be Sissy Sadie.”

    She continues looking me in the eyes, rather unusually for a sissy to a domme, I think. She explains, referring to you as Sissy Sadie, much to your amusement.  She continues explaining about the creche arrangements. I am distracted by the thought of breast feeding you, well, at least of you sucking on my nipples, not quite the same thing.  And ‘sensory play’!!  I begin to feel a little arousal begin. So it is that I am not paying too much attention to the rest of what you say until I hear you ask, “Would you like me to do that for you Mistress?”

    Without thinking, my automatic instinct to agree replies, “That would be very good, thank you Sissy Jessica.” Only as I see a nurse lead you away do I suddenly sense a shadow of doubt fall over me. Without your implied commands, what am I to do?

    But the shadow passes as I look again at the gentle, subservient Sissy Jessica. Surely dressed like this I will be able to make you do my bidding?

     Mistress Sadie 

    As you state, “That would be very good, thank you Sissy Jessica.”, she takes the walkie talkie she is holding in her hand and signals a member of staff to come and collect me.  I look at you slightly confused at this sudden decision making on my part – something I haven’t banked on – but within moments, a lady arrives and I can’t press the issue.

    “This is Sissy Sadie”, Jessica states.  “She’s the ward of Mistress Evelyn.  Could you take her down to the creche please.  I think our ‘newborn’ package would be most suitable for her, so please can you ask Nanny Sara to make sure  a locking crib is available and she will need mittens, booties and a bonnet”

    “Of course”, the lady says taking my hand.  I look mildly horrified, but before I can speak she takes a pacifier out of her pocket and pops it into my mouth.  I try to protest – my eyes telling you to say “no” to her as she leads me away – but you are much more intent at staring at Sissy Jessica’s outfit.

    “Would you like to follow me Mistress?”, she says with a smile.

    She takes a couple of steps forward and notices you are staring at her shoes.

    “Do you like my heels?” she asks innocently.  “They’re new stock in this season.  If they interest you I can make sure you get a chance to see them properly if you like?”

    She twists around so you can see the back.

    “All you need do is ask if you can have a closer look at a pair and I will happily oblige you”





    Still staring at the monitor the woman taps the cane against her leg and sighs. Spiel nicht mit ihrer Jessica.”   She pushes a button and flicks to an image of Sadie being led towards the creche, seemingly happy holding the nanny’s hand.

    Flicking it back she returns to the scene of you in the store’s entrance tapping the cane a little faster as if becoming impatient.


    Sissy Jessica is on her walkie-talkie but I do not register what she says. I only have eyes for her outfit. She is so lady-like I am so envious. I hardly notice an assistant arrive and pop a pacifier in your mouth.

    I listen to Sissy Jessica’s sweet tones and decide to work on my voice. She is saying something about you but all seems in order. Words like ‘creche .. new-born ,, locking crib .. mittens, bootees and bonnet’ finally catch my attention.

    “Make sure that they are in the softest fabric, and pink with unicorns on them!” I say in my most commanding tone. I don’t understand the half-smirk that flashes across Sissy Jessica’s lips.

    You do look a little dismayed but I only think just how much you must be enjoying all this attention. I give you not a second thought and turn my mind to shoes. I nod approvingly but unsmiling as Sissy Jessica enquires, “Would you like to follow me Mistress?”

    She sees me look admiringly at her shoes and asks, “Do you like my heels? They’re new stock in this season.”

    She twists around so I can see them from the back. “Is the little coquette flirting with me? Or just showing off her lovely legs?” I wonder.

    “I would like to see a pair in my size.”  I almost say please and just remember in time to stop myself.  I realise that I will not look right in this dress and pink FMs.  I wonder if I should wait until later.

     Mistress Sadie 

    As Jessica twists, she grins a little.  “I’m sure that can be arranged.  I’d be happy to show you mine up close Mistress”.

    She pauses for a second and straightens up, looking a little serious.

    “But…umm… if you’d like to follow me please Mistress Evelyn, I’ll happily take you to our special fully equipped dressing suite where I’ll be happy to discuss your requirements.”

    She begins walking through the store, heels clicking noisily on the hard floor until you reach a door.  “It’s just through here Mistress”, she says, swiping her keycard through the reader.   Politely she opens it holds it open – but as you step through she closes it behind you, without following.   Was that the click of a lock you heard?

    You are greeted with a brightly lit room, mirrored on either side – with rather tasteful cream decor.

    Sitting in a large leather chair is a woman – blonde haired, seemingly dressed from head to toe in leather

    She stands as you approach, picking up her black cane from on the table.


    I eye you up and down for a moment not saying a word, and begin to walk towards you – my expressionless face giving no indication as to any emotion whatsoever.

    “My name, ” I say with a heavy German accent, “is Greta Leimbach, or as you will address me, Mistress Greta”.

    I pause to walk around, or rather circle you – much as a shark would circle its prey, eventually stopping in front of you.

    I point at my feet with my cane.

    “I see my sister hasn’t taught you any manners yet, so we will start again but this time you will greet me properly”

    I point at my feet again.

    “My name, is Greta Leimbach, or as you will address me, Mistress Greta”.


    I am really getting into the swing of things here. It is fun to have Jessica flirt with me. “I’d be happy to show you mine up close Mistress”, she says playfully. But suddenly her manner changes, as if she has remembered something. She asks politely for me to follow so she can deal with me properly.  I follow, as is my habit to obey.

    I am soon distracted by the noise her pretty sandals make as she scoots along, “Just through here Mistress”, she says, opening a door for me. I step though but she does not follow. I hear a click as the door closes. I feel a lump in my throat as I look down the room. It is flanked by mirrored walls.

    At the end of the room, I see you, a striking figure of a blonde, leather clad woman. You stand and come slowly towards me, carrying a pointer or cane of some sort. I walk purposefully towards you. I gradually slow and finally halt with some apprehension.

    I notice something rather unsettling in the way that you look me over.

    I hear your distinctive German accented voice, “My name is Greta Leimbach. You will address me as Mistress Greta”.

    You walk round me and stop in front of me.

    You point, enigmatically, to your shoes with your cane.

    The adrenaline running through me burns your words into my memory. I have an strange premonition. My lower tummy tightens as I look into your emotionless eyes.

    “I see my sister hasn’t taught you any manners yet, so we will start again but this time you will greet me properly.” I hear a sinister tone in your voice but you remain, as before, still pointing at your feet.

    You repeat, more slowly, “My name, is Greta Leimbach, You will address me as Mistress Greta”.

    I am puzzled. “Do I know your sister?” I think to myself. Perhaps you think that I am someone else, as I do look very different in this make-up.

    “Good morning Mistress Greta, I am Mistress Evelyn.” I say as confidently and as properly as I can. I follow your cane and look down for a moment before continuing, “Yes I would like some shoes similar to yours. But I prefer some cream ones, more like Sissy Jessica’s. Will you show me some?”

    I have a strong feeling that all is not what it appears. You look altogether too commanding to be an assistant, even a senior assistant. I wish my Mistress was here to help me.


    I stare at you incredulously and sigh.  “..scheisse! Versuchst du dumm zu sein?”

    I lift my cane underneath your chin before leaning my face inches from yours and scream, “DO I LOOK LIKE I SELL SHOES?  DO I LOOK LIKE A SALESWOMAN?”

    I point to a silver badge on my top – tapping it firmly – the logo of the Melandren Corporation.

    I lean back and take a deep breath, muttering under my breath, “ich werde dich schlagen, bis du nicht stehen kannst”

    “Get..on..all..fours…and..greet…me…properly…sissy”.  I say slowly and calmly.  “I will NOT repeat myself”

    I point to my toes once again.

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    All of a sudden, I realise my mistake. I do not know what you say but you are angry; so angry!

    As I feel your cane under my chin, I also feel a heat in my belly. You lean into my face and yell at me. The stuff of my wildest dreams. I am weak with desire. My legs tremble.

    But then  I see the logo that you wear!; The Corporation.

    Now my lust turns instantly to dread. You are not just a fearsome, domme of my fantasies! You are an agent of them! Has my Mistress given me up to you?

    I feel the power of your quiet threat, “Ich werde dich schlagen, bis du nicht stehen kannst”

    And your order,“Get..on..all..fours…and..greet…me…properly…sissy”.

    Now I know why you point to your toes.

    But I don’t know what to do. I am beside myself. I want to obey you.  I want to disobey you.  I dream of the sting of a cane such as yours. I play with myself thinking about kissing feet such as yours. My weak legs decide for me. I fall to my knees and place a hand around your heel. I use a trembling finger to ease up your toes until I can take them, stockings, ring and all, a little way into my lips.  My cage tightens around ‘her’.


    “So you can follow instructions.  Good.  That’s a start”

    I look down at you, tapping the top of your head with my cane.  “Now I am going to go and sit in that chair.  You will follow my feet on all fours – keeping your face no further than twelve inches from them.  When I sit, you will rest your lips back around my big toe and stay there until I say otherwise.  Do you understand sissy?”

    I do not wait for an answer, but start slowly walking across the room to my chair.

    • This reply was modified 1 week, 3 days ago by  Greta.
    1 user thanked author for this post.

    I relish the sweet musk of your stockinged foot and welcome the intimate feel your cane tapping my head. I am so much better on my knees. I tried to be a pretend domme for my Mistress but this is much more to my taste, (silent giggle). I hear your instructions and nod to your rhetorical question, “Do you understand sissy?”

    I comply as well as I can to your orders. As you walk over to your chair, I crawl beside, with my mouth as close to your foot as I can. I hear the creak of your leather skirt as you sit so I quickly take your big toe, as ordered, back into the care of my mouth.

    I remain, still and silent.  I long to tease your toe with my tongue but think it best to wait.  Apart from my steady nasal breathing, the only part of me moving is my sissy-clitty as it strains hopelessly to burst its enclosure. I offer a silent prayer that I displease you so that I might feel the kiss of your cane.


    Paying no attention to you, I make myself comfortable in the chair and pick up my PDA.  “It’s obvious to me that you haven’t made the connection as to who I am yet”, I say matter of factly. “LEIMBACH”.  I tap something into my PDA.  “I am Sadie’s sister”.

    I pause.  “I hope you are comfortable down there Evelyn because I am going to tell you a little story”.   Shifting my foot slightly, I lean back.

    “My little sister, YOUR Mistress, has done nothing but bounce around from  bad relationships and shitty jobs for the past two years, and then she ends up here.  I keep an eye on her from a distance of course, not interfering unless she gets into too much trouble and I have to bail her out, but that is none of your concern.  I have to say I am getting rather fed up of it in all honesty.

    However, what IS of my concern is you.  From you accidentally on purpose bumping into her, to you both snuggled together like two lovers last night, YOU have now become my problem. My little fly in the ointment.

    Before you start protesting don’t bother.  I know EVERYTHING my sister does. I have people follow her around to keep an eye on her. One of the perks of working for my employer.

    For whatever reason she is…”

    I break off the sentence, pause and continue.

    “I know the reason WHY she is forming a bond with you.  You obey her, you indulge her and you’re the type of sissy she has been looking for.  One that doesn’t have to be forced and one who is happy to play along with her little kink to make her happy.  The gentle kind that wants to be a girl and just be spanked once in a while.  I know your type too well”.

    I sigh, picking up a remote control from the table and point it at the monitor.

    “There is your Mistress”, I say, allowing you from your position on the floor to sideways glance at the screen – where you see Sadie latched onto a women’s breast, as another gently places her hands into padded mittens which are locked around her wrist.

    I turn the monitor off again, throwing the remote back on the table with a sigh.

    “I want my sister to settle down and be happy.  I am sick to death of following her around the country cleaning up her bad choices.  So this is where you come in” I pat your head slowly much as one pats a dog.

    “It’s obvious that you two get along so well that we need to enhance your blossoming relationship.  So I have decided, and conferred with my employer, that you are going to fulfil ALL of Sadie’s needs.  Both as her submissive sissy and also her caregiver. Isn’t that lovely hmm?  The perfect sub/domme partnership.

    So you’ll be pleased to know that I’ve taken it upon myself to organise you a little makeover so you can do your job much better.”

    I pause, scrolling through the PDA.

    “Here comes the fun bit so I’m hoping you’re listening very carefully Evelyn.

    In a little while you and I are going to take a trip to Melandren.  You needn’t worry about Sadie as she will be taken care of until you return – but when you DO return, you will be a whole new person.”  I chuckle.

    “I bet you’re so eager to find out how aren’t you?  Well let me do a little reading so you can get an idea.  I hope you’re sitting comfortably.”

    I hold up the PDA so I can see it better.

    “Here we go… Subject #4865 – name Evelyn.

    The subject has been confirmed for the following surgeries.  To be carried out by Drs Jenkins and Mullholland:

    Breast augmentation to E cup or beyond.  Implantation of lactiferous ducts, lobes and associated physiology for constant lactation.

    Implantation of 36-48lbs of subcutaneous fat to thighs, buttocks, hips and arms – with associated sculpting

    Implantation of large diameter silicone prosthesis into blah blah blah stomach muscles.  Here we go.   To simulate appearance of natal female during 7-8 months of pregnancy.

    Reduction in testicular and penile size.  Recommend no larger than 1.5 inches length.

    Permanent removal of all body hair.

    Please refer to beauty / salon services for follow up.  Recommend referral to styling services re maternity wear.”

    I pause.  “Well sissy, you may speak….”

    • This reply was modified 1 week, 3 days ago by  Greta.
    • This reply was modified 1 week, 3 days ago by  Greta.

    “Leimbach? Leimbach? I know that name from somewhere.” I ponder when I hear you say that you are Mistress Sadie’s sister. Oh my memory. I am such a scatterbrain. And right now is not the best for me to concentrate on what you say. Lying at your feet holding one of your beautifully pedicured toes in my lips, I have more than enough to distract me. I notice that I have left traces of black lipstick on your stockings. Perhaps when you notice, you will cane my bare bottom .. .. ? Mmm

    You call back my attention when you change position. I respond quickly and continue my obiesence. How I love the sight of the silk as it bridges the valley of your instep! Oh how I want to kiss you there.

    From what I understand of what you say, I rather gather that you are tired of Mistress Sadie’s wild and wilful activities.

    I don’t see how I am a problem. After all, I have no control over Mistress. In fact it is just the opposite. Anyway, my head is swimming in a rising tide of lustful fantasies. I am far too busy to care, one way or the other.

    I do take more notice when you begin to describe me. So just what is so wrong with wanting a little gentleness in return for the occasional bottom slapping?

    As I move my head to follow your foot, I see my Mistress on the CCTV monitor. I feel a strong pang of jealousy watching her suckling at another breast than mine. And how I’d love to be locking your hands into those mitts!

    The remote clatters as you drop it.

    “I want my sister to settle down and be happy. I am sick to death of following her around the country cleaning up her bad choices. So this is where you come in”  I hear your words but they seem distant.

    I feel your hand pat my head. Your touch brings me back to the present.  Despite even the slight flexing motion of your toe, your words suddenly draw my attention. “I am to be allowed to fulfil all of Mistress Sadie’s needs? What else shall I do?” I wonder what you mean.  The idea of a perfect sub/domme relationship now commands all my attention. I even forget your toe. My lips only hold their place.

    “A little make-over?” I hear and think, “more girlie than goth, I hope”.

    The word ‘Melandren’ changes everything. Thought of servile bimbo-dom flood my mind. Servitude in a Corporation brothel, Forced public porn shootings!  My heart is in my mouth.

    Of course I am listening. I am transfixed by visions of lifelong torment; the plaything of horrid, cruel, hateful .. .. abusers!

    “A whole new person”, you say.  That is what I fear. What I have run from; hidden from. Your cold chuckle chills my heart.

    You mimic the words of a children’s TV reader, “I hope you’re sitting comfortably.” You mock.

    I now look keenly at the screen you hold,

    Only snatches penetrate my terrified brain. “Surgery; Doctors, breast; E cup;” I shudder as my fears are confirmed “Bimbo breasts!” I think.

    “constant lactation, fat to thighs, hips, arms; appearance of pregnancy; 8 months” All this sounds bizarre? Then “penis no larger than 1.5 inches” and no body hair? I stop listening.

    I struggle to marshal my thoughts. “They are to make me look pregnant?” My tummy churns and churns, ”I will lactate for my Mistress?” I hardly know what to think. She will suckle at my breast! At mine! She will feel my tummy for her little sister!”

    You break into my dreaming, “Well sissy, you may speak….”

    I look from the blurry words as I blink away a tear of joy. “I will be like her real Mummy then?” I hear myself murmur. I can hardly believe what I hear.

    I need to focus my mind. Too much to think about. “Please let me empty my mind and start again?” I say with a desperate look at you, my tormentor. “But,” I think, “This Mistress has no kindness; she will not help. If I ask, she will do the opposite to make me endure more confusion.”

    If only I were free, I could find one of my ‘regulars’. One of the girls from the red light district, like Mistress Kathy. She is kind and sells me her services when I am desperate. ‘Pain for Payment’, she laughs as she raises red blossoms on my bottom! She takes away all anxiety and doubt. I can think of nothing when she is at her work. Her strap and words of humiliation cast their spell. How I long for that now.

    What can I do?” Perhaps my Mistress would help. But she is as captive as I am right now. There is only this woman who taunts me so?

    Unconscious of what I do, something inside takes control. I slip my hand under your heel, so slowly and unnoticed. I take your toe into my lips to distract you. And with my other hand, I press your foot down. My mind blazes in a flood of pain as all my effort drives your foot into my flesh.


    I snort when I hear you ask the question, “I will be like her real mummy then?”

    “Of course you won’t, you ridiculous creature.   How can I put this plainly.  You will just be a walking, talking representation of what Sadie desires and needs. A walking milk dispenser.   The rest is just amusement”.

    Flicking through the PDA, I grin. “And with all the extra fat we will put on you, you’ll jiggle and wobble when she spanks you ja? Breasts swinging like udders on a cow”  I laugh sadistically.

    “Little cow”, I repeat, my laughter getting louder, clearly amused by the image in my head.

    “Moo for me”, I say, tapping you on the head.  “Do it.  Moo like a cow”.

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    I can dismiss your hurtful mockery when I think what I am to be. I am only to be what Mistress Sadie wants and desires? “I long for that, just that, you unimaginative tart!” I think what I dare not say.

    The image that you conjure in my mind dispells even the crushing feeling in my hand as my tolerence masters the pain. I see myself on all fours, yes, with my udders all a-quiver. My little ‘girly’ will be so hard! Even my new tiny ‘girly’. Even more like a real clitty. And my sweet Mistress spanking me. My inner voice dares to shout, “Not with glee as you would, you cruel harlot, but with kindness, because she likes me! Your kind just don’t get it, do you?”

    I hear you laugh but do not feel mocked. I pity your cold, heartlessness. “Yes, I will be my Mistress’s milk cow, and happy too!” I think.  The words are on the tip of my tongue but I swallow them, along with my pride.

    Your laugh has no warmth, so unlike your sister. “Little cow, moo for me,” you taunt, tapping me with your cane, “Do it, moo like a cow”.

    I ease your foot up and remove my throbbing hand so I can sit up. I glare defiantly into your face. Anger has made me bold.


    I meet your gaze and my laughter stops.  I recognise that expression immediately.  The expression of a sissy who is about to challenge my authority – the unbroken sissy.  I’ve seen it so many times before, usually at the start of a sissification process when a “man” is still coming to terms with his fate – but it’s unusual to see with a sissy who clearly has been feminized a while.

    My eyes roam your body in a microsecond.  My sister will have her diapered so her bottom is padded.  I don’t want to mark her back – not with this cane. I can’t reach her arms, and I don’t want to mark her face.  Perhaps she is testing me.  Perhaps she WANTS me to punish her.  Hmm she’s one of those – an “attention seeker”.   I can wait…

    I do something, which you don’t expect.  My face becomes expressionless, and I stand and walk away from you towards the window – leaving you glaring into my back.

    “Take your time”, I say flatly, “I can wait….”



    • This reply was modified 1 week, 2 days ago by  Greta.
    • This reply was modified 1 week, 2 days ago by  Greta.

    As you return my stubborn stare, my bravery evaporates.  Thankfully, you turn your back on me and go over to the window.

    I hear you tell me to take my time.  I hang my head and whisper, “Moo, moo”.


    “Pathetic”, I state flatly.

    I pause, and add – holding up my PDA.  “Your disobedience in hesitation and that LOOK you gave me has just increased your breast size from an E to an F cup”

    “Again. Louder like you mean it.”

    • This reply was modified 1 week, 2 days ago by  Greta.

    By now my spirit has sunk.  When I hear you tell me “Moo again, but louder”, and as if I mean it, I put my hands on the floor.  I shuffle so that my dress isn’t tight under my knees. I lean forward on my hands and make sure that I stare down.  My tummy turns over with shame as I mimic a real Moo, from my throat, with my lips closed; twice, three times, as loud as I can without sounding insolent.  The fourth one dies away in a whimper.  I wait patiently; now completely subdued.


    “Much better”, I say.  “Now that wasn’t so hard was it?”

    I turn to face you.  “In fact it was SO realistic that until I tell you otherwise, that is how you will converse with me”.

    The sadistic half-smile returns.

    “You know, my uncle had a dairy farm outside Amberg” I say wistfully.  “I used to visit there every summer.”  I begin walking towards you.

    “Of all the cows, Bessie was my favourite… so I think that’s what I’m going to call you.”

    I sit back in my chair and lean back

    “Now Bessie, cows do not wear clothes do they.  So what I want you to do is strip all the way down to your chastity device.”  I point my cane in your direction and continue.  “As cows don’t stand up, neither will you. You can undress from where you are.”

    I pause to give you time to process.

    “And when you are done, I want you to get back on all 4s and walk over there so I can inspect you.” I point to a spot on the carpet.

    “Do you understand Bessie?”

    • This reply was modified 1 week, 2 days ago by  Greta.
    1 user thanked author for this post.

    Your tone softens as you reward me with a compliment. But it has a twist. How can I communicate in moos?

    You use my new name and order me to undress, without standing, just where I am. You ask me if I understand so I ‘Moo’ and nod my head.

    I sit on my haunches and unfasten my boots. It is a struggle from this position but I finally manage to remove them. The dress is easier, I shuffle it up over my bum so I feel the cold floor beneath me. It comes over my head and joins my boots here beside me. I slip my arms out of the brassiere and twist it so the fastening is in fromt of me. I unclip it and put it with my dress. I pull the crinckly black diaper cover down and discard it. I unfasten the tabs on my diaper and remove it. It has stuck to my cage with the seepings of the last few hours. I feel my cheeks reddening but finally pull it free.

    I am conscious all the time of your gaze but struggle to comply as quickly as I can. As soon as I have put the diaper with everything else, I turn back onto all fours with my bottom uppermost, showing the red wealds left from my beating yesterday. I make my way to the carpet where you pointed. I wait patiently, naked but for my cage and collar.  I am deeply ashamed, but feel my sissy-clitty stir!

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