Fiction By Miss Ivy Ohmigosh
No! I don’t want to wear those clothes!! I won’t! I won’t!”
But why was I stamping my foot and throwing a tantrum, if those clothes were exactly what I deserved to wear as a kinkster willing to do anything to be with a certain woman?
I stood naked and horrified, looking at the items Joan had spread out on the bed. She had just given me a sweetly scented bath and shaved my whole body before we settled down for our “big afternoon.” I had just come back into her bedroom. There, laid out on the comforter, were the items she wanted to put me in: a baby doll dress…a diaper…plastic panties…knee socks…brand new shiny Mary Jane shoes…and a wig with two silly ponytails on the side and a bow in the middle…
She was determined to turn me into her adult sissy baby, and I had agreed because otherwise she would have nothing more to do with me and I couldn’t stand it because Joan was so pretty, like my personal dream girl, and the thought of not seeing her anymore (after wanting a girl like Joan my whole life) made me so unhappy that I was willing to do whatever she said!!
Even to calling her Auntie Joan from now on!!!
I started to cry again, looking at the clothes. The first time I had cried in front of Joan was right before she gave me the bath—cried when she revealed, meeting her for our Sunday “brunch date” in her apartment, that we weren’t going out to a restaurant to have a meal after all. Instead, she had plans for me…to turn me into her grown-up sissy baby this very afternoon. Yes, me, a man in his forties, started crying like a little girl at this twisted turn of events. And then she stuck a pacifier into my mouth and said, “See? I’m right. You’re made for a sissy baby life, sweetie,” and led me into her bathroom where she stripped me down while I sucked the paci and then put me in a big tub full of flower-scented pink bubbles that made my nose tickle while she scrubbed me down with a washcloth and then stood me up to shave off all my hair with a razor. I had quieted down in the bath, sucking my paci while she did all her things to me, and even when she told me to shower off the soap and bits of hair. But now, back in the bedroom, seeing the clothes for the first time laid out on the bed (she must have done that while I was showering), I couldn’t help but cry and cry again. 31
On the other hand, maybe I wasn’t sobbing only because she wanted to turn me into her adult baby girl princess. Maybe I was crying because I had a stiffie at the whole idea, my four pink inches of penis sticking up from my newly smooth crotch, and she could see how hard I was because I was nude in front of her while she stood there fully clothed like she was my mother or aunt or nanny or something!! I stomped my feet and beat my fists against my thighs, as if that would do any good and change her mind, while she grinned understandingly until I got all my crying done, patiently waiting with her arms crossed over her bosom in the pretty dress (which she’d kept dry by wearing a rubber apron while bathing me), while I had a boner that exposed me for the pervert I was! I really WANTED to be her adult sissy baby and she knew it!
And to think I had desired to be “normal” with Joan, and turn over a new leaf in my kinky life…
(Continued in Chapter 2)
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