Miss Pride's Girly Lodgers
by Prissy
BACK
Winston Fannshaw handed over his first week's rent to Miss Pride. She counted the bills and slotted them into the wallet she carried in her apron. "I will tell you some of my rules while you are taking your clothes off," she said.
The young tenant blanched. Taking his clothes off? What for? And surely not in front of his middle-aged landlady?
"Breakfast time is between 7 and 7.30, after you have given me your nightie and collected your clothes for the day. I haven't got all day Mister Fannshaw. If you can't take off your own clothes, I will undress you myself."
She was busy laying delicate girls' lingerie across his bed. Then she opened the closet and a long row of dresses appeared. Winston got a very worrying, empty feeling where his stomach should have been. His pulse quickened when he saw the look of exasperation on her strict face and she dropped the dress she was holding onto the bed and strode towards him.
"Really, Mister Fannshaw, I don't expect my girls to be completely pathetic. You have to do at least a minimum of girly activity, like dress and undress yourself when I'm busy with the others."
She relieved him of his denim jacket and began undoing his jeans. He didn't dare intervene... this was his new landlady, and she was so insistent, so his pants were soon being folded into a bag, followed by his shoes and socks, his jacket and his tee shirt. He was standing, cold and naked, in front of Miss Pride!
"Your evening meal will start at 5 o'clock," she declared, dropping a chiffon petticoat over his head and threading his limp arms through the shoulder ribbons. "Everyone is expected to wear one of their prettiest dresses for tea, because it will be followed with playtime, and that is when you must be most attractive to the other girls. After you have all shown me that you are being good, obedient and very sweet little girls, you will go early to bed. All my girls MUST be tucked up in bed by half past six, ready for me to do my rounds and play with everyone's girly thimble. Your boy stuff must be drained off frequently."
Winston Fannshaw was only half taking all this in. He was more concerned with the silky inside of the dress which was hovering over her head and then descended to sizzle around his face and shoulders until it slid deliciously onto his petticoats. His dress had a big collar of starched white linen, with two little dress buttons under it on his breast. When Miss Pride had fussed his dress into a perfect shape, she made him sit in front of her so that she could lift the front of his petticoats and take a look at what was happening underneath.
"Yes, I thought so," she declared, glaring down at him. "This penis is helplessly erect and tells me I was right about your perverted nature."
Winston was painfully ashamed. It was because of the pretty dress she had put him in, and the silky chiffon petticoats. He blushed and felt tears pricking his eyes.
"That's right, Mister Fannshaw, have a little cry dear. You are here today, lodging in my house, because I was aware of your private internet activity. That was why I insisted on your email password, so that I could get to the bottom of your secret self."
She took two steps to the wall, where a number of pink ribbons hung from holes in the ceiling, and pulled one of them. A bell tinkled somewhere in another room.
"I am not surprised in the slightest that you are aroused with girlish feelings now that I have dressed you from your new closet."
His new closet! "But Miss Pride - why have you dressed me like this?"
"Because you are lodging under my care, my dear, and I will not have boys in my house. All my lodgers are little girls between the ages of two and six."
As these words sank like lead into the new girl's stomach, there was a knock at the door.
"Ah, this is Clarence Marmaduke, as was," she said as a tall little girl came through the door. "Claire, this is Winnie, my new girl. You will play nicely with her until tea time."
The new arrival - Claire - looked open mouthed at Winston, then his pretty lips softened into a sweet little smile. He was wearing a fabulous pink dress with white polka dots and oodles of very feminine petticoats which bounced around his hips as he stepped daintily forward, his eyes glued to Winston where he sat in a pool of petticoats and his own lovely polka dot dress.
Miss Pride spoke again to Winston before Claire could speak. "You will do exactly what I want at all times, and that will always be the sort of things that sweet little girls like to do. As Claire will show you."
"Pleathe Mith Pwide can we play pet-panty?" asked Claire, his little white gloves describing patterns in the air on either side of his face in a terribly girly way. "Me haven't been able to play wiv another ickel girl'th pantieth thinthe Penny left."
"Hmm," she said. " All right Claire dear, but I will have to supervise to make sure your petting is appropriate."
In no time at all, Winnie Fannshaw had a very stiff penis inside a pair of white silk panties, which were being fondled very affectionately by Sissy Claire's silk gloves. He was both frightened and ecstatic at the same time. He certainly didn't have any control over his little peenie, which soon found itself so full that it had to spend all its contents into those silky gloves. Miss Pride tutted as she sat on the bed and watched.
"I don't know!" she reprimanded. "Am I to spend my time cleaning up each time my little girls spend all their girl juice. You must both wear panties fitted with cream-cups for those girlish little dribbles. Then you will be able to play pet-panty nicely without making a mess."
She soon had new girl Winnie in a special pair of panties in pink silk with a pouch at the front, into which she slotted a little pink plastic bowl to catch any love juice emissions. Winston was certainly ashamed of his penis - it being so thick and stiff while he was wearing his dress and petticoats - and beneath them, his cream-cup - but he also knew that he was going to make a very happy and sweet little girl, especially if lovely Sissy Claire was to be his sissy kissdarling.