Sissy Panties Story

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Sissy Panties Story
Transgender Stories - The Story of Prissy - Chapter 9
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Jennifer and company slept late Sunday morning. When
Prissy finally awoke, he shuddered and nearly felt
nauseous at all he had endured yesterday. He had been
forced to give a blowjob to the "Prom Prince"......and
then forced to reenact it for Jennifer and the others! And
all the time while dressed, and ACTING as a teenage Prom
He was utterly despaired as Jennifer pulled him out of bed
and dragged him to the bathroom. "It's only Sunday,
Prissy. You still have a full day as a sissy yet ahead",
she gloated. After a bubble bath, and a check to assure
that Prissy was still hairless, Jennifer slipped a sheer
pink negligee on him, and led Prissy back to the bedroom
to be dressed once again. Karen, Chrissy, and Sally were
"Since you're all grown up now Prissy, we've decided that
you should learn some skills that will help you be a
working girl some day", said Jennifer. "But we want your
outfit to be more of a surprise than the others. So before
we put any clothes on you, we're going to do your makeup
and hair." The girls sat Prissy at the vanity and worked
him over. Compared with his makeup from the night before,
he now appeared more grown up.....even glamorous. The pink
lips and nails from Saturday became bright red on Sunday.
Yet another long blonde wig was securely pinned to his
head, the masses of curls sweeping down over his
shoulders, halfway down his back. All of this was
performed with a towel draped over the mirror so that
Prissy couldn't see the details of the girls' work.
"You're going to be sooooo darling when we're finished",
Chrissy laughed as the girls finished up.
Jennifer finally took a black scarf and tied it around
Prissy's head so as to prevent him from seeing the
remainder of the transformation, but not so tightly as to
mess his makeup. Panties, a real boned corset, stockings,
heels, and bra followed in short order. A slip, unlike any
Prissy had worn so far was drawn up his legs, and a dress
was carefully dropped over his wig and zipped up the rear.
He could feel the girls making final adjustments, fiddling
with his hair, and tying a bow at the rear of his waist.
Last, his feet were crammed into the highest heels he'd
With a girl on each wrist, Prissy tripped over to the full
length mirror and the black scarf was removed. He blinked
his long lashes and stared at the image of a sexy, pretty,
French Maid! The girls rolled on the floor with laughter
as they saw his surprised and alarmed look.
Prissy wore the authentic uniform of an alluring,
flirtatious French Maid. The black satin dress was trimmed
in white lace around the scooped neckline, short puffed
sleeves, and hem of the very short skirt, which was held
out at a wide angle by stiff, short, white petticoats. A
white taffeta, full bibbed apron lay on the front of the
dress, and appeared like a pinafore due to the wide lace
ruffles that trimmed the straps over Prissy's shoulders,
and met at the rear waistline in a large bow. His waist
was neat and trim, due to the compression of the boned,
black satin corset the girls had forced him to wear, and
its cups were filled with silicone, C cup falsies which
jiggled and swayed with every movement. Prissy's black
patent leather pumps were indeed five inches tall,
perching his feet on heels tips smaller than a pencil
eraser. His hose was sheer black silk, with a seam running
up the back, and the tops of the stockings and garters
could be seen just underneath the skimpy skirt. A lacy cap
had been pinned into the curly mane of long blonde hair,
and he again wore the dangling gold earrings from the
previous evening. His makeup was spectacular: bright red
lips, dark, dramatic eyes, and brightly rouged cheeks.
Prissy's inch long nails had been replaced with inch and a
half, narrow, red spikes, and she had been liberally
perfumed. The dress and makeup created such a new look
that Prissy looked like an entirely different person than
the Prom Princess from the night before.
Jennifer regained her composure sufficiently to turn
Prissy around and bend him over revealing a multitude of
white lace ruffles on the sheer nylons panties covering
his bottom. The final touches were the words embroidered
in black script on the front of his apron: "Sissy Maid".
Prissy again found himself at a loss to gain any control
over the situation. And as on Friday afternoon, he stood
submissively before the mirror and allowed the girls to
crowd about, teasing and laughing at his effeminate image.
He was ordered to model his uniform for them, allowing his
hands to dangle limply from his wrists, or primping his
hair, and further instruction in walking with heels,
ensued. Of course Prissy was only in the second day of her
period, and a tampon had been inserted by Karen while
dressing him. "If you'll stop trying to take large steps
like a boy, Prissy, you'll have no problem swishing about
in your pretty shoes!" coached Chrissy. Having experienced
wearing heels for hours the day before, Prissy was soon
mincing about in the five inch spikes without too much
Jennifer ultimately quieted her friends down, and stood
Prissy in front of the mirror once more while she
explained his duties for the day. "Now you're a grown up
girl Prissy. See how much progress you've made in such a
short time? Today you'll serve us as our maid. We tried to
think of some other suitable position for you, but none
came to mind!" she teased. "So from now on you will
address each of us by our name, preceded by the title
`Miss'. That's a nice sweet way for a maid to address
pretty girls like us, don't you think? The rules are that
you don't speak unless spoken to. When you do speak you
will always do so in an appropriately girlish and
respectful voice. You will curtsey each and every time you
are spoken to, and each and every time you enter or leave
a room. The earlier rules also apply. You are a GIRL! And
a serving GIRL at that! Anything that belies your
femininity or subservience will result in demerits, and
punishment. Oh, and one last thing. Remember in your
little speech on Friday? When you told everyone how when a
girl gets a real job `All she does is worry if her
stockings have runs, or if her makeup is on straight!'
Well you've got a real job now, and we expect the same
from you. I'm afraid that if you get a run in your
stockings we'll have to extend your time in skirts though.
What do you say girls? How about one more day as a girl
for each inch of a run in her precious stockings?" "Sure",
replied Sally. "And that should go for her makeup too. If
her lipstick needs a touch up and we have to point it out
to her I think she should get another day as well!"
"Right", added Jennifer. "But remember Prissy, if you
perform as expected, and required, we'll even give you the
videotape and pictures we took. But until then, you're on
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