"Come along, Sissy. Stand in front of the mirror so that you see how girly you are as I'm dressing you. Look at you! Has any man or boy ever had such flimsy thin arms, such a delicate neck or such floppy, queer wrists as you? And why are your legs so smooth and curvy, Lucy Dribbling?" I know I should hate that name - but I love it because it goes with all the femininity that I have come to long for.

"I - I don't know, Miss Geraldine. I can't help it. I - I wish I was more of a MAN!" and my thin, girly voice breaks into a whinge as Miss Hateman's niece threads my bra up my arms and fastens it at the back between my shoulders. She has white satin gloves which she buttons shut on the backs of my hands. She knows why I'm so girly. Up to a month ago I wasn't girly at all. I was a pacey footballer and good at chatting up the girls, but Miss Hateman's changed all that. True to her name, she can take charge of any male and turn then inside-out into a sweet and sexless bimbo-head. And that's just what she's done to me.

"Hands into your petticoat, Sweetie," orders Miss Geraldine. "Girls who are as girly as you have to be put into the softest petticoats that Ladies have to button shut for them down the back. One - two - three - four little pearl petticoat buttons. Now look at your sissy poppet. It's growing perky and girly because it knows it's not a male cock any more."

"It IS a male cock," I protest, even though my dainty little organ has stiffened already because I'm wearing a white girls' bra, a pair of satin gloves and a petticoat down to my waist in silk chiffon. It's because it's all so frilly, and I love to be dressed in frilly things like this.

"Well your stepmother doesn't think so. That's one reason why she wants you girled, isn't it Lucy? The other reason is she has to punish you for being in love with girls' clothes, because you are, aren't you dear?"

She is so right I feel the tears swelling into my eyes. In fact they flow down my face. I'm desperate to wear a dress and panties and everything girls wear - and I must be punished. That's what Miss Hateman does to sissies like me.

"Arms in, Sissy," cries Miss Geraldine, and I am dressed in a peach polka dot dress. My cock aches with sissy pleasure as it spreads round me while she fastens the buttons at the back. It's got a darling frill all round my skirt and the sweetest white ribbon bow in front and pouffy sleeves with lacy cuffs at my elbows so that my arms are bare down to my satin gloves. Oh but the cutest thing is its huge frilly collar, supported by collar petticoats: so feminine, and Miss Gerladine buttons it up the back of my hair so that my face is surrounded in my dress frill. My cock is ready to burst as she dresses me in my matching bloomers, pointing up right in front of me, so that my legs are so long and so bare and so girlish.

Miss Geraldine gets me ready for Miss Hateman with pure white lacy anklets, pink high heels and perfume, and she gives me Dolly Polly to hold against the bodice of my dress. "There," she says: "come with me to meet Aunt Clara," and she leads me by the hand into Miss Hateman's sitting room.

Mandy Pandy is already there, wearing a lilac silk dress for a little girl of maybe two or three years old, and a matching bonnet with lace and ribbon bows. Miss Hateman has dressed him in a pair of her own stockings and girly white high heels which fasten with ribbons round his ankles. He's crying just like me because he knows he deserves to be punished for being so frilly.

"Oh my God, look at you!" she cries when she sees how her niece has dressed me. "The weakest, most ridiculous ex-male in town. And look at your panties, you pervert! Sticking up like a signal saying 'Hey look, Ladies: I'm not a man, I'm a sissy little panty-waist. Look how my cock is loving it when I'm dressed in frilly petticoats and a dress!"

I know she's right and I'm so ashamed my legs won't hold me up. They go all wobbly and slide together at my knees, so that my dress sizzles and bounces with little girly sweetness as Miss Hateman mocks me.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Hateman. I'm sorry for being not a man but a sweet little girl for you today." She beckons me closer and I stand alongside her chair while she holds me round my bare legs, then holds my panty bulge and moulds it up and down in her satin gloves.

"Sexless perverts like you have to suffer shame and humiliation," she says as she shapes it in her hands, making sure she can feel the full shape and get her fingers right round it in my panty silk. I can't help starting to juice. "You're going to tell us how frilly you want to be."

"Make that other sissy squirt his sissy cum into his lilac panties," she says to her niece. "I want no more cum left in the sexless idiots while they tell us this is what we want Ladies to do to them, every day, all the time."

Miss Hateman and Miss Geraldine work us both in our panties as we have to confess: "This is what I deserve for being a sissy cross-dresser, Miss Hateman. I'm a girly little panty-waist - ohhhh - in a pretty dress and - ohhhh - and baby girl bloomers. Ohhhh!"

Mandy Pandy is sobbing and confessing how guilty he is too. "Please wank me, Miss Geraldine, and de-male me like the panty-boy sissy-girl I am."

Both Ladies are experts in what they are doing. They leave us close to a climax all the time but stop short and stroke us softly for a while, then pull and smooth our cocks again, torturing us with our desires to be wanked by Ladies who want to punish us. But we can't help ourselves. I feel so sissy, and so does Mandy. Our stiffies surrender to the Ladies, and we squirt into our panties, long and copiously, until the Ladies gloves are wet and sticky and running with our juicy sissy cum.

"You disgusting, sexless perverts!" cries Miss Hateman. "You're nothing but sissy little girl babies, the two of you!" She takes off her gloves and wipes her hands and the cuffs of her blouse. In fact she has to take her blouse off and get changed.

"I think we should dress the pair of them in baby dresses, Auntie," says Miss Geraldine, "and wheel them round the mall in the sissy twin display buggy. Then we'll be able to show them to a few women who can call them sissy wankers in public."

"I was thinking the same myself, dear. Put that one in the baby blue satin dress with white ribbons, and I'll dress this pervert in the white satin baby dress and bloomers, and a white bonnet with pink ribbons."

It's the signal for both of us to burst out crying again. It's one thing to be put into a little girl's dress by strong women, but when I'm dressed as a baby girl I feel even more ridiculous and humiliated. The dress Miss Hateman has for me is soooo short, so that all my petticoat frills are fully on display and so are my baby panties, all frilly and with pink satin ribbons at the tops of my legs. She stands me in front of the mirror as she puts me into my baby bonnet and I cry buckets of tears so that I can scarcely see myself. The brim of my bonnet is so wide around my face with lacy trimming round the edge and wide pink ribbons that fasten into a bow under my chin.

I'm so frilly my cock is as stiff as it can get, pushing my satin panties right out in front of me as she sets me in the right hand seat of the frilly pink buggy to be strapped in. Mandy Pandy is fastened in next to me and we are told to hold hands with our satin mittens. We can't help but cry and cry, we feel so silly and so sissy.

"Oh for God's sake, shut that noise up," cries Miss Hateman, and the women put our big pacifiers into our mouths and tell us to suck.

A miserable feeling weighs on me with such a heap of humiliation covering me as we are wheeled out into the street and we turn towards the mall. What must two grown boys look like in baby dresses and bonnets, with our baby bloomers showing and our mittens fastened to the sides of the buggy in big silk ribbons?

We reach the mall, which is packed today, and it's no surprise that we're met straight way by women who are drawn to big silky babies looking so cute, in big bonnets and with petticoat frills spreading all round us. But their main interest is our bloomers, pointing up in the air with sissified cocks underneath. It was no time before we had a small crowd of six or eight women standing round us, grinning and giggling and laughing.

"How old are they?" they want to know. "What are their names? Hello, Lucy Dribbling. Cootchie-coo, Mandy Pandy!"

"They're being punished because they both want to be girls in sissy dresses for two-year-olds," Miss Hateman announces.

"They look like their sex wants nothing to do with girlfriends," says one woman. "They're loving being dressed in satin and lacy frills," says another.

"Exactly so," says Miss Hateman. "Ladies, you can wank those stretched panty bulges, if you want to. That would add to their shame and humiliation."

Nearly all the women want to get hold of our panties. A Lady in a smart coat is first to crouch down next to me - she must be in her late twenties with her blonde hair tied back in a long pony tail - and she grins at me as she holds my cock in her beige kid glove. "You're a sexless little pouffter, aren't you, Lucy Dribbling," she says, enjoying jerking me up and down my cock through my white satin panties. It's an older woman, a lovely MILF with smart make-up and dark permed hair who's wanking Mandy and making him moan and dribble from his pacifier.

"Tell the Ladies what shameful sissies you are," cries Miss Hateman as she pulls the pacifiers out of our mouths. "Miss Geraldine, spread their legs wide to expose their panty bulges to all the Ladies. Now, you perverts, confess!"

The laughter of the women draws an even larger group of curious females as we do as we are told: "I want to be a dainty little girl in a sweet dress and petticoats, for Ladies to wank my panties for me!" I whimper, and the tears run down my cheeks again into the satin of my bonnet. "We need you to wank us," cries Mandy Pandy; "it's what we deserve in life," and as we tell the Ladies what pathetic sissies we are, our cum soaks our panties and glistens in the lights of the mall as everyone laughs and laughs at us and we jerk and jerk in the hands of these giggling women.

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