Didier and Maxime stood in weeping contrition at the side of Madame Jasmine's bed as their governess wheeled the punishment trolley into position, its satin ecstasy roll gleaming in the light of the crystal chandelier.
"I will not have sissies failing so miserably to show me how effeminate they are in every aspect of their deportment." Madame's black curls always shook with annoyance when she was fixing the trolley brakes and lecturing the boys over all the injured respect they had inflicted on her. "You know I expect graceful hand movements and dainty feet at the correct angle of sweetness. Didier, you will adore my panties first, over the satin roller."
18-year-old Didier stepped forward to have his pink taffeta dress unfastened behind and removed over his head. His whimpers turned into wails of defeated pride as he stepped astride the satin roll and positioned himself as Madame Jasmine spread her white silk-rayon panties, with their soft lace and delicate pink ribbons, in front of him.
"Down!" came the order, and the wretched boy reached his hands forward for them to be ribboned to the frame. "And when you failed to touch the edges of your dress and petticoats with affection in front of Madame Roland this morning, I was horrified, I can tell you. Horrified!" Didier's hair was fastened to the front of the draw cord ready for satin roller sliding. "Just your fingertips, that is all it takes, as you know only too well. The good lord knows, my boy, that I have taught you dress worship day in and day out for the past three years. You deserve every swish you are going to get."
The boy's penis and testes were attached to the other cord and he was pulled tight, with a sharp hiss of defensive breath. His ankles were attached on each side, and Madame pushed him from his back to test his sliding on her panty silk. The awful pause came next for him, in which he knew she was reaching for her wand and testing its pliability. Then he felt the frightening kiss of its tip laid across his expectant globes. He heard the bubbling whimpers of his cousin as he watched, waiting to follow, but first obliged to see what awaited him. The wand was ready, the ritual would begin.
"I will not have sissies failing to be feminine!" declared the governess, and slash followed slash followed slash. The sliding roll moved beneath him, the panties vibrated so blissfully, and Didier bleated his helpless pleasure as the soft pain in his buttocks mingled with the adorable sweetness in his eagerly extended penis, rising to those lovely heights of his punishment ritual that would most certainly end with that smooth, prolonged and rising flow of sissy loveliness the boys always enjoyed as they were punished in their petticoats.
"Oh thank you, thank you, Madame Jasmine, for making me a sweeter and prettier little girl," he cried, making sure his voice was soft and his legs and arms struggled in the most delicate of girlish movements. Madame was obliged to punish both the boys each and every day. They wouldn't miss their panty-and-satin-roller punishment for all the world, so it was no wonder both boys made sure they were just that little bit too boyish once or twice in the day, until they heard those longed-for words: "Right, my little naughtikins, it's going to be a good swishing on that girly bottom of yours." It was enough to spring any sissy's clittie into eager stiffness inside his ruffled satin panties.