by Prim
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Chapter one: Tim and Richie Show An Interest in Baby Dresses 
D'you know that feeling when you see something in a shop window that hits you so hard you simply can't walk on until you've stopped to have a good, long look? That was Tim Flowers as he dragged his wheely holdall along Upper Wallsend between Ninth and Tenth. Maybe it was the pastel colours, lit from above and below? It could have been the prettiness of so much lacework and embroidery in one single store window. Or was it because he felt a stab of attraction that made it absolutely imperative that he take a good look, really up close?The funny thing was that Richie Mellows beside him was knocked out by exactly the same sensation. Neither of them were laughing... quite the opposite, because they both sensed a sort of covert guilt, as if what they were doing bordered on the shameful... but it was funny that two young men just turned eighteen, just out of high school, and who had barely arrived in a new town full of hope and enthusiasm, should stop just after sundown to look at a brightly lit window full of extra large baby wear. "Look at this," said Tim, his voice in a gasp. "These dresses are all so... well, they're so... ruffled, aren't they? And so extra pretty, somehow. Like that blue one." He couldn't take his eyes off the bushy fullness of the dress, spreading from a shiny satin collar edged with lace between pouffy sleeves, and getting wider and wider down to the hem, where it showed the equally lacy legs of its baby bloomers underneath. And all in powder blue. Then there was a pale lemon one, not so lacy, but much wider on top of layer upon layer of baby petticoats. Then a pink one, a mint green one, a lilac, a peach, a salmon pink one. "I'll tell you what's weird about them," said Rich, whose eyes were equally wide with curiosity: "they're all so fuckin' BIG. I mean look: you'd lose your baby if you put her inside that pink one... or in that white one. They must be for older babies... four or five years old... at least!" Tim had his comb in his hand, which always happened when something had to be figured out, and he ran it through his smooth brown hair as his eyes ranged over baby coatees with big, shiny buttons, and pairs of mittens and bootees arranged in matching sets, dripping with dainty satin ribbons. His eyes stopped, as if arrested by a notice. "Restrainers" it said, and above it hung a thick coil of satin ribbon trimmed with lace along both edges, and with buttons and buttonholes all over it. He tried to puzzle where a baby would wear that. "Holy panties!" said Rich in a hushed voice. He tossed his blond hair back as if clearing it from his eyes, so that he could glance about him to make sure no-one was listening, but they were the only souls in sight. Come to think of it, it was a very quiet neighbourhood. "What the hell gives with that bonnet? It's got extra lining inside it... in thick satin... all white! The poor baby who wears that will be lost inside and ... smothered in all those frills." "You're right, mate. But I've been looking at these bloomers over here. Just look how deep the layers of silky ruffles are, with rows and rows of lace. How big would your baby have to be if you were going to put those on her?" "Everything seems way over the top... ultra fussy and girly... extre-e-eme, somehow." Richie Mellows regretted saying it. He wasn't happy about the way he was feeling far more excited about this window display than he should have been, and he didn't want his mate to know. Tim Flowers had the same kind of uncomfortable feeling, right in the front of his jeans. He quietly took half a step back so that Richie wouldn't see him pulling at his flies to try and release his cock from it tightened prison. Ohhh, that was better. Fuck, there was no doubt about it, there was something about all these baby things that was really getting to him and he looked up at the store sign. "SILKY NURSERY CENTER", in pink neon lighting. His cock gave a twinge of interest, making his eyes range over the rest of the signage underneath. The stiffness of his cock grew and grew in the lightweight softness of his jeans. He found his fingers futively running his jeans up and down his erection. Richie realised what his friend was looking at and stepped back to read it too. "All your babifying needs. Forced dressing sessions. Forced baby-hormone feeding. Forced..." and he swallowed as he continued: "...baby girl conversions!" Tim suddenly stepped closer to the glass. "Rich," he said, his voice a hiss, "there's a girl up there. She's looking at us." Richie read on down the list of services available. "Extremely feminine fitting rooms available. Strong girl assistants to hand. Full fem... Full feminisation guarant..." "Rich!" He was nearly pulled off his feet as Tim grabbed his arm. "Don't look up. There's a girl in the upstairs window and she's watching everything we do." Rich couldn't possibly not look up. He used his hand to sweep his hair up, sort of turning his head a bit and... "Oh my God!" He looked down again at the pretty bloomers like Tim, bristling on the back of his neck. "There are four of them, Tim lad. Watching us as if we're law-breakers or something. What're we gonna do?" "What do you mean, what are we gonna do? We're getting out of here, that's wh - WHAT!" A fierce flash came from somewhere at the back of the dress display, and he could hardly see. A second one... dazzling. Richie and Tim didn't need to think... they were on their way, stumbling ahead of their holdalls. Why do these fuckers always refuse to stay on their wheels when you're in a rush? They didn't exactly run, but they did two blocks of fast walking before they caught up with each other and turned off to the side. Phew, they were out of sight. "Hell, Rich, what were those girls looking at us for? We weren't doing anything wrong." "Course we weren't. I s'pose they thought we might have hurled a brick at the window, like some weirdoes. I mean, guys don't usually go around looking in babywear stores. We must have been there too long... too long for comfort." Tim grappled with his thoughts. "Must have been five minutes," he said. No answer... then: "Tim bro, why did we spend so long looking into that window? I mean, we're not into babies and all that." Tim's lips tightened as he shook his head. The idea of staying there too long brought a picture of a lovely big pink bonnet back to him, the one that'd caught his eye when he'd seen that girl and pretended he hadn't by looking hard into the window. He had wondered if the sign over the store meant that boys could be put into big, fluffy bonnets like that... in pink satin. "Tim," he heard, breaking his reverie, "I wanna go back and take another look." "Rich, you cannot be serious. Those girls..." The two boys stood in the shadow of an overhead awning and leaned their backs against the dark stone of a tenement block, looking across the intersection bathed in orange street light. The streets were so deserted they could hear their hearts thumping; they were both excited by the possibility of retracing their steps and... sneaking another look. Tim so wanted to look at that pink bonnet again. For Richie... he almost hoped the girls would come down and say hello... and invite them to come in and see some baby dresses. "Tell you what we could do," he said. "We could go along here, turn back on ourselves, and come all the way round to find that cute little place again. The girls would've gone by then." Tim was scared, but he knew that not even a team of horses could hold him back from doing what Richie had said. He stood his ground for ten seconds until his silence would have covered his instant agreement, then he drew a noisy deep breath. "All right. s'pose I'm game for that." "Well all right then. Come on then." Richie was first to get his holdall ready to go, and the two of them set off into the hush of the night. They took the first left, taking them back on a parallel tack from where they had run away from that store. Hell yeah... it wasn't just a window... it was a whole store of really gushy, girly, fussy little dresses and diaper covers and babyish things. "Were they girls?" wondered Tim out loud, "or women?" "Dunno. The one I saw was about the same age as us." The boys' heads were filled with possibilities as they wheeled their way forward until they were definitely past where the place was. Then they silently knew to turn left again, returning to the street... was it?... "This is it," said Tim. "Upper Wallsend." They looked along the road. There were cars parked on either side, and only the odd set of headlamps moving. He looked at Richie... Richie looked at him... they took a deep breath and moved forward. As they approached the place, set back from the front and throwing its pinkish light onto the street, they were more concerned with the upstairs window than the window of the blessed store. It was dark, with no blinds. No-one was there. When they were both assured of this, their eyes centred with beating hearts on the blissful nature of the window display, and closed in on it. "Silky Nursery Center", thought Tim but he was keen to re-read those words from above the other window: "Forced dressing sessions", and "Full feminisation guaranteed." They made his cock as stiff as a rod as he joined Rich at the window. But no wonder his friend was quiet... as if paralysed. He nearly turned to stone himself. Everything was different. Eerily, worryingly different. Oh the dresses and petticoats and bonnets were still there... sort of. Different ones, or moved around maybe... but it was very obvious that the fronts of the dresses were different. They were turned up, simply because the bloomers underneath them had been brought forward into prominence so that they pointed their pretty lace edged cuffs towards the window, and from the leg openings of each pair of bloomers reached the long, shiny leg of a pair of pantyhose... trailing across the pink velvet floor of the display towards the window, where the feet were held inside a sexy pair of girls' or women's high heeled shoes. Tim felt his chest thumping ready to burst. "AHHH!" cried Rich, and he clutched Tim's arm. Tim followed his look and nearly fell flat at the sight of the bonnet he'd seen earlier. It had a face in it. A flat photo face pulled round into a face shape but... his heartbeats thumped, high in his chest... the face was undeniably his... and that other bonnet. It was Rich... "AAAAAAArgh!" The silk bag flew over his head, rushed down his face, his arms, his hands, and gathered at his ankles. "GOTCHA, ya little creeps!" He tried to push the bag out, away from his face... not easy when you're hit in the ribs by some unseen force and you're dragged down, trying to keep your feet in a tightening silky bag, then floundering round on the floor. "Gerroff, ya fuckin... Ooowww, what'ya doin!" he heard from somewhere above him. Richie. He was being attacked too. He had to get outa this. He wriggled and tried to get himself so that he could get up, but... ohhhhh no-o-o-oooo, he was being tied round his arms, into his waist. He couldn't use his hands... and his knees too!" "How're you doing, Jen? I've got this one," he heard above him as he was twisted this way and that in his bag, laid out on the ground. "Thinks he's a fighter, the clown," cried another voice, three feet away, "but he's wasting his time. What a knob 'ed. Let's get them inside?" Tim felt crushed, smothered in dark, scented material, and he couldn't defend himself at all. "Hey," he called out, "let me out. What are you doing?" "Shuttup babyface," he got, right in his ear, as he was pulled upright and held in strong hands. "D'ya think we didn't see the two of you wanking off in front of our baby things?" It was one of the girls, and her mouth was right alongside his ear. He stumbled on the pavings, held up by her strong arms. They must have been lying in wait, knowing they would come back. "Yeah," came another girl's voice: "you can't wait for it, the two of you. We know what to look for, you little sis-pots." "Tim!" he heard. It was Rich. "Tim, are you there. Help me, Tim, for God's sake." Tim would have called back if he could have thought of anything to say. It went quieter... as if they'd gone inside, and a door slammed, and there were giggles and more hands on him. "We've got them," he heard. "Let's get them upstairs." "Get hold of this one, Tabitha." Tim was pulled off his feet, then dragged in his bag, thumping his knees against this and that. "Isabel... open the doors for us. We'll get them straight into the dressing suite." "Let's get them stripped." "Let's see their sissy cocks." There were girls' voices all round him, and then Tim Flowers felt the thump - bang - thump of stairs clattering his legs as he was taken further and further into the Silky Nursery Center. They'd been kidnapped, sort of... by a handful of girls, for crying out. In a strange city in the middle of the night. And nobody even knew they were here! Chapter Two - Tim and Richie Versus Girl Power 
"Get him out of the bag, Tabitha. This one's going into pantyhose."Tim wriggled and kicked as the ties were undone. His legs were released, then his wrists, and finally his elbows. The bag was pulled off over his head in a rush of silk, and he found himself on the floor between two girls. A nightmare. He had to damn well fight. They weren't going to hold him down. He didn't want to hit them in the mouth, but he had to get their hands off his arms and... "Stop wriggling like a worm, you insect," said the bigger girl, whipping his jeans down his legs and off his feet. "You're not going anywhere." She landed on him hard, her knees winding his stomach. "You've got a lot of girly treatment coming up," and his jacket and shirt were pulled off him as if he was being stripped by a dozen sex-starved harpies. "We've gotta get you into your equipment, darling, so those filthy male drives start drooping and disappearing, haven't we?" Hell, he was out of that bag, but no better off. He tried hitting out but couldn't... stop them... tying him up again in a hundred yards of ribbon round his waist and his elbows, so that his arms were pinned to his sides. He could see that he was thumping around on a carpet under two girls. A glassy chandelier shone down from a high ceiling, and there was pink furniture nearby. He got a glimpse of two other girls a few yards away. They were dealing with Rich, because he heard his mate yelling and swearing in a smothered voice. Then his heart jumped. A girl's hand fastened onto his cock and was pulling him off. What could he do? He was helpless to stop her. They had him sitting up between them, with one girl holding him back against herself while she reached round him to hold his cock, and the other kneeling in front of him, unwrapping a coil of rubber tubing. She could have been a year older than him. Pretty, with thick, brown hair bobbed round her neck, big brown eyes that looked straight into his, and full lips that broke into a smile. "Hello Hon," she said in the richly feminine voice he'd heard when he was captured in that infernal bag. She was in a white top with puffed sleeves and a navy miniskirt. "Welcome to the Silky Nursery Center. I'm Abby, your hostess if you like... and this is Tabitha." "Hello sweetie," he heard as the girl behind him held him to one side and appeared at his cheek with bright eyes and a cheeky grin of brilliant teeth. Her hair fell over her shoulder in a plait with a ribbon on the end. "All I want is to wank your little cock silly." Her hand showed him she meant what she said, and he warbled a moan in his throat. "You'd better tell us your name, babykins." Huh? What did she mean, Babykins? "I said, tell us your name!" and her hand changed from soft to tight on his penis. "Tim! I'm Tim!" he squealed. "And my mate is Richie." Maybe he could shrug her off with a monster effort and get to his feet. And Rich could join him. But before he could gather himself, a cry of pain reached him in Richie's voice, with cries and begging that showed that his mate was in no condition to come to his rescue. "Why have you got us here?" he cried to the girl in front of him, who was a picture of cool, as if there was nothing either of their captives could do. "Let us go, will you? You can't keep us against our will." She gave a slow shake of the head as if he didn't deserve listening to and knelt up over him. Her friend Tabitha left off wanking him and presented his stiffened cock. The next thing, a cold, slimy sheath slid down the length of Tim's erection to its root, and on over his scrotum, slucking into place as if by suction, and gripping his parcel of genitals like an elastic clamp behind the base. This was degrading. He had never felt so humiliated by girls in his life, but the way they'd got his arms tied, he couldn't bring his hands to the front. His cock stood upright, in this white latex looking sheath... close fitting but not tight... and out of the top of it was a long hose a centimeter wide, as if he was to wee out of it. "What're you doing? Undo me, d'you hear! We're sorry we looked into your shop and that. We didn't mean any harm. It's a nice shop, and all we want to do is walk on and find a place for the night." Abby was unwrapping a new pack of pantyhose. "Oh I see," she said, opening them out and stretching them. "You don't live in town then?" "No, no. We're new in town. We'll just go find a place to stay and you'll never see us in front of your shop window again." Tabitha gripped his penis more tightly over its sheath, making him keep his feet still and accepting the legs of the pantyhose. His heart thumped heavily as the soft nylon slid over his feet and the white panty was threaded higher... up over his knees... and towards his sheathed genitals. He began to whimper in little bleats of fright. This was unbelievable. He was dressed in girls' pantyhose, which they were pulling really high over his waist, clamping the sheath inside with the tube emarging in front of his ribs. "There's a nice start, sweetie," said Abby, holding a disc four or five inches across. She waited for Tabitha to pinch one of his nipples between thumb and fingers, then she planted it over his right breast. Behind it was a flattened cup appliance, with another tube like the one for his cock. She got a second one and her friend pinched his other nipple into a stimulated state. She pressed it into place, then produced a brassiere in white nylon, with pretty lace trim over the cups and dainty white satin ribbons to go over his shoulders. It slotted under his arms and hooked together at his back, with ribbons over his shoulders to fasten behind. A wave of misery passed through Tim: his chest was held in two lacy cups, with a tube dangling from the underside of each of them. "Mmm, Baby Timmy is feeling more feminine already, isn't he?" said Tabitha into his ear, "and we haven't even turned him on yet." His mind was jumping about, between fright at what these girls were doing, and saying, and how the two of them could get away from here. "Look," he said as they pulled him to his feet, "I don't know what game you're playing at, you girls... and maybe we could drop by and play it again with you sometime, but right now my mate and me... we just want a bit of shut-eye. We'll get our bags and..." He found himself being walked backwards, until he tripped and fell, sitting in a chair. "You can save your breath, Tim baby," said Abby, fastening him onto it with a strap from behind his waist. He jumped with fright: he wasn't going to be getting up until they decided. Then she brought a pink plastic arm round, from above his shoulder, passing it across the front of his neck to meet a receiving arm on the other side. It was like a small version of the tray across a baby's high-chair, but higher up. She was busy on its underneath, pausing to smile at its occupant. "When baby boys come into the Silky Nursery Center, we know they only want one thing, Timmy." Her fingers connected the tubes from his brassiere cups to the underside of his tray. He began to tremble, even more when he sensed that the tube from the top of his pantyhose was being fastened to somewhere else on his pink plastic chair. "They just can't wait for us to turn them into little baby girls, can they, Tabitha." "Nope. That's all they want." Her hand was busy on his defenceless cock. "Wha...? Don't be ridiculous!" "It's true, hon. They want to be little girls, so's they can be put into our lovely baby dresses. Isn't that right, Tabitha?" "Sure's hell is. And that's what you want, sissyboy, make no mistake. Turn him on, Abby." A switch was pressed somewhere on his chair, and a hum started... then a flush of sensuous feeling took hold of Tim's penis and his breasts. Like a rush of fluid, rinsing over his genitals and over the area surrounding each of his nipples. It was so electrifying, so stimulating that his penis stiffened to its full length in twenty or thirty seconds, with warm floods of pleasure in his sheath and glowing pleasure inside his brassiere pads. It struck him that he was wearing nothing but white pantyhose and a girls' brassiere. He lost control of his limbs, wriggling and kicking on either side of him in spasms of pleasure. His legs sat astride the seat of his chair as if riding a horse, and his toes pointed his pantyhose to the floor in an effort to enhance his pleasure. Ohhhh, Tabitha's hand was round his penis at the top of his legs, and he suddenly felt helpless and began to sob with self pity. "Don't worry, Tim darling," said Abby, who stood beside him pressing against his face in her silk top. "Let's watch what Jen and Isabel are doing to your best friend. We like it when sissies can see each other being sissified and feminised, don't we girls?" One of the girls down on the floor looked up at him."Sure we do, Timmy. I'm Jen, by the way. Yeah, we like sissies to know that we are turning them into babies. Little girl babies. And I think your friend down here can't wait. Just look at his cock." Richie's face was nowhere to be seen, buried inside the bag he'd been captured in, in pink, white and orange silk and tied tightly round his waist. The poor guy was helpless to get out of it, with his arms bound to his sides, while the two girls who held him fastened suspenders at the tops of his legs. They'd got him in a suspender belt and long, gleaming black stockings which shone in the light of the chandelier. The poor lad had his legs held firmly by the girls, but his mouth could give them all he'd got. "Gerroff me! Ti-i-i-im! Where are you? Help me, Tim. They've got me. What are they going to do to me?" Jen undid the ribbon bow at the front of his waist, and Richie appeared from folds of silk as his bag was pulled off to reveal his ragged, blond hair. The fourth girl fell on him with a hug, clasping him into her white blouse as if she'd fallen for him with love at first sight. "Ahhh, the poor little soul," she cried, drawing her face back to look into his eyes, then planting a long, passionate kiss on his astonished lips. "You want to be our baby little girl, don't you, Richie pet," she cried and hugged him again, for a while stopping him with shock from the noise he'd been making. "But we've got to get little Richie into his penie pouch," she said, wrapping him in ribbon round and round his arms to clamp them against his sides, "so that it feels nice and sweet when he's turning into a girl." She turned to produce the same sort of sheath equipment and tubing that now surrounded Tim's genitals with a rhythmic squelching, making his penis long for the girls to pull him off for a hum-dinger of a climax. "Wh-What are you putting on him?" cried Tim, alarmed as he felt the power of what was happening to his nipples and his sensitive organ. "What'll it do?" Abby cupped his cheek in her hand to draw him into her breasts as he watched his mate. "Don't you worry, petal. We have to make sure our babies are loving what we do to them, don't we? So we have to build up that lovely sensitivity in baby's important places. You'll feel ever so sweet when we make you babyish and girlish." "Hey," he cried, "you can't do that. That's evil," and he glared down at the girl with the sheath as she slipped it over Richie's unprotected and stiffened penis. "Hey you... what's your name?" She looked up at him with pure, girlish sweetness, her blond hair falling onto the shoulders of her cropped silk top. "I'm Isabel, honey. I'm so glad you've called by to be my baby. I can't wait to be your mummy." She snapped the sheath into place under Richie's testes, making him jump in their arms with shock. "Take it off," he yelled, "I don't want to be a girl... or a baby!" Jen had a pair of breast pads, and Tim ached with pity as he saw how helpless his friend was to prevent them from fitting them over his breasts, followed by pads of satin with the white plastic cups. "Rich," he cried, trying to wriggle in his chair but producing a surge of pleasure through his sheath and his own breasts... "Ooohhhhh! Ohh, Rich, don't let them put you onto the chair. Fight them, Rich... Rich, you've got to help me. I can't do anything to stop them now... it's up to you, Rich... Oooooohhhh! Ohhh help. Heeee-e-e-e-eeelp, somebody!" "Ahhh, ha-ha-ha-a-a-a, there's a helpless little sissy," cooed Tabitha at his cheek as her hand fondlied his cock with long, smooth pulls inside its gurgling sheath. "It's so nice to see our babies helpless in our hands. You can't do anything to help yourselves, can you, darlings?" "No they can't," echoed Jen as she and Isabel fastened Richie into his pink chair and brought the neck tray round in front of him to secure it across his throat. "You've been caught, you pair of suckers, and you can't get away from us now. I just love having male sissies in this position," and she giggled, "where there's nothing they can do to escape." Richie's legs reached for the floor in their dark stockings, and it was now that the girls added highly polished, patent high heeled shoes to the boys' feet, adding a surge of feminine feelings to both of them. They repositioned the boys' chairs on their wheels and brought them facing each other a couple of feet apart, where they were locked into place. Tim peered over his pink plastic tray at Richie, at his white brassiere and dark stockings, while Richie peered back at Tim, and their penises flushed with alarmingly delicious feelings as they sat with their arms tied out of the way and their high heels reaching for the floor. Was their pleasure brought on by being so frighteningly in the power of these girls? "Hey, Abby" said Jen, drawing her top off over her peroxide bob so that her breasts swung pertly in front of her, "we have ourselves a couple of no-homers... who loved looking at our baby dresses in the store downstairs. Look at them: they were so weak we were able to bring them into the Nursery with no fuss. Are we going to force baby them or what?" "You bet we are. They need forced dressing in petticoats and satin dresses," cried Tabitha, squeezing Tim's penis in her hand. "I just want to force them into diapers and change them over and over," cried Isabel, holding Richie's penis too, so that he sang out and spasmed with feelings. "We'll have such fun," said Jen, "and we'll get them into..." "Stop!" cried Abby, her hair bobbing at her shoulders. She too pulled her silk top off and shook her hair out on her shoulders as the others watched. She held Tim's face in one hand and cuddled the side of his head into her breasts. "Let's not forget what we do here in the Silky Nursery Center. There are a lot of girls out there in town... and they are depending on us. They want to have sissies who have been girled and babified. I don't want our girls to have to wait one day longer than it takes to change these two, now that we know the two of them are going to stay." She looked round the girls, who nodded with pursed lips that said she was right. Tim and Richie's lips, in the meantime, began to tremble, and bleat with little whimpers of horror. "So," said Abby, "we had better get into our uniforms. The nurses of the Silky Nursery must get started on their two little sissy boys." *** In Chapters 3 and 4, Tim and Richie begin to find out how baby girls are dressed. |
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