Aunt Frock's Baby Room Feminization in the Stimulator Chair Baby Bernard's Satin Party
Hello, my dear little angel.
Welcome to my pink nursery for babyish little girls. This is my chance to cuddle close, darling, and open the front of my blouse so that you can nestle cosily into my breasts. Shall we lift your dress and petticoats, like this, and take down your panties, undo your diaper, and bring your darling little popsie out into the cool fresh air, so's you can feel soft and helpless for me?
Let me share kisses with my little baby so that we feel young together, then I'll hold your popsie and we'll look at the pics and stories together.
Aunt Frocks
xxx
BACK
Jeremy Watson blushes in front of Portia as Ziggi puts him into his white, floral baby dress. He fancies this girl like crazy, but when he tried making out with her, she got on the phone to his wife. And now she thinks he looks like a baby - a GIRL baby! Why oh why had he tried it on? If he hadn't, this machine from hell would not have come into their lives. He is fastened into its seat again, once more without diapers and without panties. How nakedly vulnerable he is. How exposed to their ridicule.
"I've never seen baby skin like this except on a one-year-old," says Portia, smoothing her hand over the soft flesh of his inside leg. The husband gasps with sensations of delicacy. "Oops, have we found where your baby is ticklish, Ziggi hon?"
His wife chuckles as she fastens his other ankle in place, next to his wrist, so that his groin and ass are opened up as wide as they will go. "Ticklish all over, Portia. Be my guest."
With his arms out of commission, the girl from next door has free rein to handle him all over, giggling at his despair as her fingers flutter their way up his ribs and down his flanks. His petticoats in soft white rayon are converting him into femininity as each slither and wriggle makes their caress more devastating. He knows the stimulator adds to their powerful effect, and he knows he is turning feminine for his wife. At least Portia can't see him in that huge satin bonnet any more - just in a baby dress!
Oh nooooo, Ziggi is connecting the head helmet and lowering it, closer to his hair. He feels its warmth, caressing him with a menacing glow of sweetness - as if fanning him with its femininity. It gives off a fragrance, like girls' dresses in a salon, or like the hairdressing sweetness of one shampoo after another.
He strains his eyes upwards as the shiny smoked plastic descends onto his hair - right down close. Even further. Ohhhh, down over his head, his ears, over his mouth. He cries out to Ziggi, and wriggles this way and that under Portia's tickling fingers. He's right inside it, and fingers fasten it with ribbon under his chin. The helmet has him in its clutches. It hums to life as he tries to cry out, and flickers softly, showing him a pink place, soft quilts in shiny satin, slithering fabrics brushing his face and scalp, all over his body.
Then floods of girlishness as he feels the touch of legs against his ass. Portia's legs, shapely and strong, because he hears her voice as if in a long tunnel, distant but close to his ear at the same time: "What a girlish ass, with a sweet, wet fanny." Ohhhhh! Portia, the girl of his dreams, has a cock - a deliciously warm and horny cock - and she enters his - his vagina!"
Jeremy Watson thinks it is impossible to feel more feminine, but he is wrong. Now he is being rodded by the girl next door. One girl fucking another, and he knows for sure he is pretty, submissive and helpless. He is a baby girl all right, utterly powerless to resist as the machine adds new layers of femininity into his psyche. How lovely he is in his petticoats and dress, in his darling, girlish stimulator.
For the women who laughed and bubbled in the south sitting room of Fitzwallingham Hall, today was their first visit. It would become the first of many. Only Rhianna had visited before, in her capacity as director of the company, and Cassandra of course, Marguerite's companion, who had helped her to install the new baby. Now he was ready to be brought in, dressed all in satin, and fastened into his pink buggy with his hands buttoned upwards and his legs buttoned outwards. As they wheeled him into the room, into the group of expectant faces, the girls united in shrieks of laughter. This was the great Chesney Fitzwallingham. The employer from hell. Just look at him now!
"But Marguerite, how did you get the great Fitzwallingham to marry you?" cried one girl after another.
"With careful planning over three months of honey-trap courtship," grinned the bride, leaning over her capture in her lilac satin blouse and plucking his button bonnet all round his hair, "then whisking him off to a wedding night in the mysterious Satin Snooks Korner. Once there, he was taken off my hands by the nurses, and now here he is - conditioned as you see." She looked from one marvelling face to another and swelled with pride. She had nailed their boss into position, and swallowed his whole empire, all in one swoop. "My new baby has had a legal change of name, Ladies. From now on he is Fenella Frillycock, - and he is thrilled that you could all come to his first satin party." She paused for everyone to enjoy gales of power laughter. "Shall we open his bonnet," she said with a grin of cool control, "and see Fenella - so's we can make him cry?"
"Oh yes." "We'll be able to laugh at him better."
Marguerite leaned over her husband, wriggling in his satin dress, and undid the blue buttons down his face, starting at the top. An expectant silence fell in the room as all eyes watched the white frills parting, the white satin lining coming into view, then those callous eyes they all hated, followed by a ridiculous pink plastic, heart-shaped pacifier. They broke into a roar on all sides of him as Marguerite opened the wings of his bonnet as wide as they would go, and Fenella Frillycock was revealed.
"Ha-ha, not so bossy now, is he?" cried Candida in charge of customer relations. She gleamed in a high neck blouse of emerald dupionne. "I think he's probably wetting himself inside those girly panties right now," said Juliette in charge of recruitment, standing behind her in a purple blouse and white satin skirt.
"Hello Baby Fenella," laughed Rhianna, laying her hands on the baby's bare leg at her knees. "Let me just say what a pathetic little baby you look for us in your satin dress and bonnet." Her black satin sleeves slid up and down his leg as his pacifier bobbed up and down in his mouth and tears ran down both sides of the big, heart-shaped saucer.
Hermione Goulding, his personal secretary, was beside her, in a silver blouse and black satin skirt. "Wasn't it nice of Baby Fenella to invite all his girl friends to enjoy seeing how babyish he is now?" she said. "But Marguerite, does this mean we won't be seeing Baby Fenella at work any more?"
Marguerite slid her fingers round his cheeks to hold him under the chin. "Not at all. The sissy will be in the middle of us every day, only he'll be in dresses and plastic pants."
"Marguerite is installing a new nursery room for him in her office - his former office, that is," said Cassandra beside her. "It'll be glass fronted onto the main office, so that we can all watch the baby being dressed and changed and teased and punished."
"Oh yes, I hope he gets lots of punishment," cried Davinia, the other director of the company, who was sitting right next to the baby. She reached forward and grasped the plastic knob shaped point at the top of his plastic baby pants. "Frilly sissy babies have to be taught how nasty all males are, don't they, Babykins?"
The sissy jerked and wriggled through all his arms and legs, so that his buggy bounced on its wheels, and everyone shrieked and cheered as Davinia fondled and massaged his unprotected baby pants.
"Is baby feeling weally babyish den?" said Alice from accounts, who had come to the party in a pink satin cocktail dress. "Maybe we'll all take it in turns to play with the lickel baby in his new pink nursery room?"
"You certainly will," said Marguerite. "There'll be a rota, so that there are always two of us playing
with Frillykins at any time. He'll have a lovely pink playpen, and dangle harnesses for our precious little girlie."
Everyone laughed and laughed until they ached, and the baby cried and cried in his opened bonnet. "Shall I do an article to publicise the baby's new position as company baby?" cried Beatrice, of publicity. "I can see it now - daily visits from women's groups to sit in his nursery, changing the baby and tickling him in his baby dresses and diapers."
The room filled with peals of laughter once again and Marguerite turned the buggy this way and that so that everyone could see the helpless tears running down inside his bonnet. She partly buttoned him up again inside his bonnet so that the girls could all see the top of his pink pacifier and his miserable eyes, then Cassandra helped her undo his legs and pull his panties down, and un-diaper him, so that they could refasten his legs out wide and display how conditioned his cock was to thrill with wretched pleasure when he was being laughed at. It was the high point of the party, to see one squirt of cum after another as everyone gathered round him in their satin blouses and skirts and fondled his helpless penis. Not at all what Chesney Fitzwallingham would have seen happening, but that was before he became Fenella Frillycock.