The Art of Vancy
with storyettes by Prim

Sissy Undressing

Sissies don't need much dressing to look pretty

  Like many teenage boys without a future, Sonder Daguirre, was desperate to agree to anything that would lead to wealth and fortune, which was why he accepted the offer of odd-job boy with Madame Sissifire in her large, mansion-style house half way up Amstel Hill. Not many prospects there, you may say, but everyone knew that Madame S was deeply loaded with what it took to fund a fortune. If Sondy played his cards right, he might stay on, in some comfort, and get matters off to a good start.
He felt a strange attraction to the large, elderly lady sitting opposite him in her ample armchair, with aspidistra leaves drooping onto one shoulder of her white satin blouse. "Do you work hard, young man?" her puffed cheeks and doubled chins wanted to know. That must be half her fortune, thought Sondy, hanging from her ears and draped on her bust in pearl earrings and necklaces.
"Oh yes ma'am. I'll do anything you give me to do. Anything."
Her brows lifted to meet her silvering hair, while the lack of humour remained across her not unpleasant features.
"But will you do it in the way I want?"
"Absolutely, ma'am. Your wish will be my command." Sondy tried to look as candid and truthful as he could.
"Will you be able to work with me watching over you?"
"I would love that, ma'am. It would make me feel wanted." He was surprising himself with the sharpness of his answers. But was he on his guard for the unexpected question?
"Do you like cats?"
"Er, y-yes, ma'am." He had to tread carefully.
He saw her shoulders slump an inch. "Well I don't."
Dammit, he'd fluffed. "Ah, well generally I like pets of all kinds, ma'am, although I'm happy without them."
"I didn't say I didn't like pets," declared his prospective employer. "Just cats."
Sondy opened his mouth as if to agree but closed it again. She looked hard at him.
"I prefer boys."
This time Sondy didn't even open his mouth. He blinked.
"Or girls. A pet to sit beside me and keep me company."
The boy's quick eyes took in the size of her armchair and realised that she could indeed have him sitting beside her and still have room to luxuriate in comfort.
"I'll pay you well, until such time as I see you are so much part of my life that I don't need to pay you any more. You can start now." She stood up with an effort and crossed to the table, where papers were waiting. She held out a pen for him to come up and sign, then studied his signature. "Very good, my dear. You will come with me to see your room."
She led the way up the grand staircase and opened the first door on the landing. The interior was ultra feminine to say the least, the sort of decadent chamber which might formerly have belonged to a woman in her mature years. Then he realised it was her own room. Oh God! Was she intending him to sleep with her?
"I... I don't..."
There was a shrewd look in her eye, the closest he had seen to a smile since he had set eyes on his employer an hour previously. She led him round the bed, where another, smaller bed, a crib with pretty pink bars, hugged the side of her own huge four-poster. "This is your bed, dear boy. Close enough, but separate. A sort of kitten crib." She looked at Sonder, calculating his feelings, then she took his hand and led him into the middle of their bedroom where a settee stood in front of the mirrored closets. "I need to undress you, my boy. You need to wear your pet apparel. The sooner you begin your employment, the better."
Sondy stood obediently and allowed his clothing to be removed, garment by garment, until he stood between Madame Sissifire and her mirrors with nothing on. She had a lady's shaver, a tiny thing, which she applied to the down that grew around his genital. He could see, as he stole a peek at her face, how much she enjoyed dealing with his private area, and it produced a little glow of sexual desire in him. He loved the way she handled his penis and testes. Ohhh, that was lovely, and he stiffened for her. Ohhhhh, she was wrapping a little pink ribbon round his shaft, as if adding a collar to a kitten or a pup. She patted the settee and he sat, his penis as stiff and erected as it had ever been.
In addition to his penis bow, he also got to wear a pair of girls' white anklets and little patent shoes, and round his neck he was given a choker in ruched red velvet. in his ears he received pearl ear-drops, and in his hair a ribbon of white satin, folded into a large butterfly bow. His hands were encased in white silk gloves that buttoned on the insides of the wrists, and finally she turned her attention to his tits. She dusted them with scented powder, stiffening them enough for her to cup them into cute little clips, each fronted with a miniature ribbon bow that supported its nipple. She surveyed her new pet with his stiffened little penis, walked him this way and that by the hand in front of her boudoir mirrors, then declared herself happy with a kiss on his obedient forehead. Sondy Daguirre found himself led back down the staircase and into the drawing room, where he sat with his Mistress in her armchair, his legs demurely together beneath his erection, or wide apart for her to feel his little bits. He was not required to speak, nor have any ideas of his own. His new life of homely bliss had begun, and as he had promised in his interview, his Mistress's every wish was henceforward to be his command.