Iris Dayne was on Cloud Nine as she answered the doorbell for the visitors. She had picked out one of her revealing tops with frills round a scooped neckline, the better to torment Andrew with her tits, and paired it with a brown leather pencil skirt. Her son-in-law knew just where he stood as a result: submissively obedient, ready to be chastised and humiliated the whole day in front of the visitors.

"M-Mother-In-Law - please don't let them see me like this. I feel - so sissy and - so ashamed. It's this dress, Iris. It's the way my face is surrounded in frilly sort of girlyness in this pink polka dot collar - and the frilly collar petticoat underneath it. I'm so emba - "

He was interrupted by the doorbell. Andrew Dayne's pulse began racing, like his heart was beating in his throat. "Hmph!" snorted Iris, setting her book to one side and standing erect to look down her nose at her drivelling son-in-law. "You can beg and argue as much as you like, little girl, but my decision is final." She seized him by the wrist and dragged him tottering on his pretty blue high heels into the hall so that she could open the door with him in full view.

On the top step stood a tall woman in a tailored coat of white wool, with a silk scarf folded at her neck and her hair pulled back into a high bun. Her bold eyebrows and long nose warned Andrew Dayne not to cross this woman. There was another figure behind her, which she pulled into view with one hand. A ridiculous figure, all woman's mackintosh in a bright magenta pink from the deep hood, belted and buttoned right down the front to a narrow hem well below her knees.

Or 'his' knees, because this woman would not be bringing a woman to see Iris and her son-in-law: this was a wretched male, he knew.

"Do come in dear," said Iris, standing well back to allow the visitor and her mackintoshed companion plenty of room inside the door. "Margot Fleece, isn't it? I'm Iris Dayne, and this is my stepson Andy. I'm training him to understand the feminine place of males in my home."

Andrew wilted in his dress, squeezing his knees together to try and bring his throbbing cock under control. It had reacted to the mackintoshed figure: a sissy, he knew, under the complete control of this woman, and that touched a delicate nerve in his own effeminate nature. He couldn't wait to see the sissy, but at the same time he was scared in case he betrayed affectionate feelings towards him. Or worse: what if his sex reacted with more than appropriate intrigue, like it was doing now!

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Iris," said Margot. "Your email was a ray of light for me, especially when you talked about the feminizing tutorials of that dominant expert Miss Highheels."

"Muriel Highheels, that's right. I think you're going to enjoy putting her advice into practice. And is this your - oh excuse me for giggling. Is he your son-in-law, Fred?"

The woman let go of her companion's hand and used both hands to seize the sides of his hood and wrench it down to his shoulders. I cringed at the sight of the male visitor as she pulled him forward and planted him in front of her, facing Iris and Andrew. They could only see his head, but it was enough. His hair had been done into the sweetest little girl ringlet curls, prettied on top with a big bow of sky blue silk, while his face was a picture of girlish cosmetics from eye liner to crimson lipstick.

"Hmph!" snorted the woman. "Yes, this is Freddy, my wimp of a son-in-law." She bent down and undid the bottom button of his mack, and the next three buttons up to his belt. "Look girly, idiot," she cried, "and hold your mackintosh out to the sides to curtsey."

He caught the thick, shiny edges of his mackintosh, spread them wide and executed a deep curtsey before rising again and arranging his mac in slithers of cire satin. With his mackintosh parted he had revealed how his legs were completely bare: so long, so girlish and so smooth, so that Andrew Dayne's heart fluttered at realising the sissy was wearing white frilled ankle socks with pink bows and the most feminine of pink Mary Jayne shoes buttoned across his insteps. He also caught a flash of lingerie. He was sure he was wearing a pair of panties - in pink silk! Oh my gosh, he hoped with all his heart that his Mother-In-Law would undo his mackintosh for him and slide it off. He wanted to see those panties more than anything in the world. Meanwhile his heart went out to the visitor. This desperate man, this husband, must be right under his wife's mother's thumb, just like he belonged to Iris, and she looked as mean as sin.

"I like the way you've got him today, Margot," said Iris. "Bring the wimp this way into the living room and we'll get the two of them looking right for their - intimate - lesson this morning. Miss Highheels has a strict dress code, as I said in my mail." She grabbed Andrew by the ear and spun him round, bringing a muffled squeak from his throat. "Get in there," she oredered. "We've got to get you ready for some serious girling."

"Iris, I love the way you've got him in a suspender belt of yours, and stockings! Is he wearing one of your bras too?"

Andrew cringed.

"Yes, he's in a long-line bra of mine. I wanted him to have a bust today so that his dress hangs from it. So feminine, I thought."

"I agree. He's a real girl in this dress. The polka dotted pink silk is made for girls' dresses, and this gorgeous feminine collar encloses his face so sweetly."

Andrew turned a deeper shade of red as his collar was lifted and plucked in her fingers. She looked into his eyes to enjoy his humiliation. "Come here, you," she snorted at her own son-in-law and she began unbuttoning his mack. "Let this girly-boy see how sweetly you are dressed too. You're going to fall in love with each other's demaled sex. That's right, isn't it, Iris?"

Iris was sitting on the couch with her son-in-law beside her where she could reach his legs and panties easily. "Miss Highheels has a wonderful chapter on 'Building Their Lust'. Here it is. "Once the sissies are prepared in the lingerie of your choice, and dressed in either dresses or in blouses and skirts that are suitable for little girls of four years of age or less, they can be made to fall in love with each other simply by being put face to face and panties to panties. The proximity of another sissified male will appeal irresistibly to their demaled libido."

Margot folded her son-in-law's mackintosh and laid it over a chair. It left her daughter's husband revealed, in a dress of sky blue satin that bounced and swung attractively on a bed of white chiffon petticoats. Beneath them shone a pair of extremely feminine panties in peach pink satin, frilled round each leg with a double row of delicate ruffles. Perhaps it was the sweetness of the panty which had taken control of his penis, because it was stiffened inside the panty gusset to an extreme length and thickness. It forced its presence on Iris's attention.

"He's got a sensitive clitoris," she declared. "No wonder it likes its panties, but I'd say it's so stiff because it would like to be close up to this girly wimp of mine. Just bring your little girl over here and we'll see how they like to feel when they are very close."

Margot brought her son-in-law forward and stood him facing Andrew Dayne. He began whimpering and shivering, as if approaching the sissy-boy in the spotted dress was like coming into some kind of emotional force-field, and he was unable to resist its influence.

"Straighten yourself up, you idiot," snapped Margot, "and looked into this girl's face. "Have you never seen a pretty girl in a face collar before?"

"I think that's the big attraction," said Iris with a grin. "He likes my son-in-law's dress. Miss Highheels says here: "When placed close to each other, the sissies will become very conscious of each other's dresses. The shiny, colourful materials, pretty ribbons and bows and the ruffles of their dresses will bring out the girlishness of how they are feeling. It's at this point that they need to focus their attention on each others' lips."

Margot hummed her agreement but was almost interrupted by the sounds of weakness that escaped both their sissies: they were whimpering and looking into each other's eyes as they inched their faces closer and closer. Without meaning to, their fingers found each other and held each other's hands clutched into the breasts of their dresses. It was inevitable. Their eyes gazed into each other, their faces angled sweetly to the side of each other's noses, and their lips touched in the sweetest of lipstick kisses.

Iris motioned to Margot and pointed to the sissies' panties. By kissing each other's lips, they eased instinctively forward to improve their closeness - which meant their dresses pressed into each other and their panty points hovered an inch apart, as if waiting for the hand of God to stretch his mighty fingers and enclose both of them into a single clutching squeeze. Iris was on her feet behind Andy, and with Margot behind her son-in-law, they leaned forward and pressed the kissing sissies together.

Gasps of shock escaped the sissified males. Their soft lips were in the forefront of their minds, but they were far more conscious of the extended, silk-pantied knobs of their clitorises. Ohhhhh, this was ecstatic in its pleasure as they rested their knobs together. A dark thought crossed the minds of both husbands: shouldn't they try to extract themselves from this terribly shameful situation in front of their Mothers-In-Law?

But they had no chance to do that. Their Mothers-In-Law leaned into them, deliberately preventing that very natural reflex wish. And secondly the last thing on the mind of Andy and Freddy was to lose the blissful glow of pleasure that was filling their cocks at this moment in time.

Andy Dayne lifted a hand and ever so lightly pushed on the sissy's face to release his lips. "Freddy," he breathed with a flood of girlishness swelling in his breast, "darling, don't move your panty-knob away from mine. Oh PLEASE don't move."

The sissies kissed with their pussy-cat noses as they gazed into each other's eyes. "I won't, my precious. I won't move one inch away from your lovely panty-point. I love it. I love what it's doing to my girl's clitoris. Andy sweetheart, I've never had this feeling before: so warm and rosy. Is this what it feels like when," - and he hesitated at what he was confessing - "when a frilly girl is falling in love with another angelic little sweetheart?"

Their lips found each other again and opened wide, their tongues reaching inside and sliding deliriously together. Behind them Iris and Margot exchanged knowing nods and started to rock their skirted pelvises into their sissies' butts, ensuring they didn't overdo it: just enough to slide those ecstatic cock-tips together in perfect sequence with each other. The moans and bleating of their sons-in-law was exactly what they wanted to hear. It was so satisfying to them to see the demaled pansies sliding their arms round the backs of each other's dresses as they dribbled with ecstasy from their chins.

"That's what you should be doing," said Iris at the side of her son-in-law's collar, "showing her your girly pleasure at being a girl for her."

"I - I want to be a girl for Freddy, Mommy-In-Law. Ohhh! Ohhhhhhhhhh! I want to be pretty and sweet and dainty and GIRLY!"

"It's what you want more than anything, isn't it, Freddy?" said Margot, rocking to and fro with him in her arms. "To feel deeply feminine in your petticoats and dress and to slide your panty bulge against the point of another girl's clitoris. I told you she'd make you a girl, didn't I?"

"Yes, Mommy, yes. I want to be her girlfriend. I want her to kiss me and love me. I want to be so girly for her in my dress and my panties - so that she can be completely in love with me."

As the sissies cooed their girlish desires into each other's mouths, the floods of their cum came oozing and spluttering and squirting and shooting through the lovely gussets of their panties, while the two of them devoured each other's faces in long, passionate kisses of girly-girl love and adoration.

All thanks to the well-observed directions of that excellent directrice of sissification for sons-in-law, Miss Muriel Highheels.