itsmeganprincess: Unexpected Consequences Fiction by meganprincess ‘Show daddy your pretty out

itsmeganprincess: Unexpected Consequences Fiction by meganprincess ‘Show daddy your pretty outfit, Emily. Good girl. Being a slutty maid suits you doesn’t it? Turn on your microphone, princess. Very good girl. Hold your hair up. Both hands. Hold it up and tease the camera. Turn your head from one side to the other. Smile. Flirt with the camera. Run your tongue over that pretty red lipstick. Daddy likes that shiny lip gloss you have on. Emily loves wearing makeup for men, doesn’t she? Say it.’ ‘Umm. I like wearing makeup.’ ‘No, princess. Start over. Use your high-pitched girly voice for daddy. Go ahead, Emily. Hold up your hair and say it.’ ‘I like wearing makeup’ ‘You like wearing makeup for men. Say it right, Emily.’ ‘I like wearing makeup for men.’ ‘Do you like wearing your pretty maid uniform and high heels on cam for daddy? Answer me, princess. Run your hands up and down your stockinged legs and say it.’ ‘I love wearing my high heels and maid uniform on cam for daddy’ ‘Very good girl! Now tell me your name and say you want to be a girl while you cup your breasts and smile at the camera’ ‘My name is Emily and I want to be a girl.’ ‘Do you wish you could dress like this all the time and have a big, strong boyfriend, hmm? So you could suck his hard cock, Emily? Suck on that dildo, rub it on your face, and tell me, princess. Now!’ ‘I want a boyfriend so bad so I can suck his yummy cock. I wish I could always wear pretty dresses and skirts and makeup.’ And then the screen went blank. Wow! What a rush! Being used on camera by a complete stranger. I mean, I didn’t even know his name. He just made me call him daddy. He knew my name though. I guess I should explain. I was kinda new to all of this stuff. In all other respects my life was ‘normal’. I had a girlfriend and everything. Her name is Ariana and she is really pretty. She is 5’2’ with sexy long light brown hair. I missed her a ton. She lived an hour away from me after I moved away to go to college. It was my first year. Nearly the end of my first full semester. Almost time to go back home for the long summer break. Ariana was in her senior year of high school. I was 18 and she was 17. She is so hot. And rich, too. Her parents own several hotels in the big city where we both come from. They live in a huge 10-bedroom mansion. I am Dave, by the way. I was trying to get a degree and go into the hospitality industry. Wasn’t sure what I would really do for a career– just like most first-year college students. Anyway, about me? I dunno…I am kinda short at 5’7 but I am fit and have what some might call a swimmer’s body. Tight and compact. I have long hair for a guy. It is brown and goes over my shoulders. Why am I telling you all of this? I guess I am just nervous even writing this. But I kinda have to. Things are out of my hands now and maybe this will help me come to terms with it. Anyway, to get back to my story…I have always had fantasies. Like about forced feminization, humiliation, light bondage, spanking, chastity, and blackmail. I’m all over the place! I’ve done pretty well keeping a lid on it but college gave me so much more freedom and time. And anonymity. One night, alone in my apartment, I was looking through porn sites, while wearing a favorite pair of panties, and saw a banner ad at the bottom of a sissy humiliation video: Now that Craigslist personals are gone – where we will you go for hot hookups, sissy? Try doublelist.com and make your fantasy come true tonight. It’s free! Before I knew it, I was logging onto the site and writing up an ad for myself. I didn’t put much thought into it. I knew that putting a picture with my ad would probably help. So I took one of me from the year before. It was a little blurry and I didn’t really have any makeup on but I loved the outfit I was wearing in it. My favorite schoolgirl uniform. My hands were on my hips in a slutty way. When I was done, the text to my ad read: ‘Inexperienced sissy seeks confident dom to tease me about feminization and blackmail. Maybe meet up for spanking session or more?’ I honestly didn’t even think I would get any responses. It was a Sunday night and early. Hardly the best time to be trying to hook up probably. But within minutes I started getting emails. BBC studs. Other sissies. A couple. A poser. And then…him. Right away he was different. Right away he was pressing my buttons. Buttons I didn’t even know I had: ‘Daddy here. Write me back if you want to be my feminized little toy. All relationships based on trust. If you want blackmail play just let me know. I can make all of your fantasies come true, sweetheart. 45 y/o, 6’3’, 8-inch cock, all man. You will call me daddy at all times and you WILL be treated like the girl you are.’ I felt precum leak into my panties as I reread the last sentence. I quickly wrote him back. We traded several emails. At first, he just subjected me to light teasing about blackmail. Then teasing about outfits he would make me wear. Teasing about putting me over his strong knees and spanking me with his belt. Teasing about putting me into ballet heels and attaching a spreader to my ankles and a ball gag in my mouth for a good paddling. Along the way, I told him little things about myself. My school. My major. Stupid stuff. Even my favorite animal, of all things. I tried to exercise some caution. I only told him my first name. Still, he offered the perfect mix of light teasing and name calling with a more subtle menace which just drew me to him. He made me feel feminine and docile. Compliant. In one email I told him about my girly clothes collection. He was especially interested in my black maid’s outfit. You know the kind. The type that sexy girls wear on Halloween: supershort black dress with built-in white lace apron and matching cuffs and collar. Complete with a frilly little white hat that perches daintily on the back of the head. I even had a pink feather duster to go with it. And of course, white stockings and garter belt and six-inch black spike heels. Before long, Daddy (I always had to call him daddy – to this day, I still don’t know his name) convinced me to go on cam for him. Told me it would be hot. Told me it would be safe. Said he would tease me about blackmail but all just for fun. He would never hurt me in any way. So that’s what led to the modeling and posing session I described at the start of this story. It didn’t last more than fifteen minutes and then he mysteriously logged off. I didn’t know what to think. One thing I did know? I was incredibly horny from being dressed like that in front of a man and being made to say those things out loud to him. I laid back on my bed and fucked myself with the dildo and ended up cumming in huge wet jets all over my stomach. And then I didn’t hear from him. Weird. But life goes on. A busy week of classes and final exams and the incident was nearly out of my thoughts. And then? 13 days later, on a Saturday morning, my phone rang. It was him! How the hell did he get my number? ‘Meet me at the mall in one hour, princess. This is your daddy. I have your full name, your address, your phone number, your Facebook log-in, and your parents and girlfriends contact info. Shave your legs and wear those little white girly shorts you told me about and a regular shirt. Front entrance. One hour, sissy.’ And then a loud click. He had hung up. My mouth hung open in shock. Complete panic took over. This couldn’t be happening! Must hurry. Must stop this. Asshole probably just wants money or something. I did a quick shave of my legs.  Chaotic thoughts raced through my mind as I pulled on the shorts and sneakers, grabbed my keys and headed to the mall. I could just make it. It was about 30 minutes away. Halfway between the college and the city where my parents and Ariana lived. Oh my God. My parents and Ariana! He said he had their contact information. What the hell was this weirdo up to? No time to think. I drove in a zombie-state and arrived within five minutes of the appointed time and walked toward the main entrance. Stepping out of the car, I looked down at my shorts. These were only meant to be worn in private. I felt like such a sissy in public in them. They were absolutely tiny on me and even had a little lacy looking accent down each side on the front. The pockets were so small that I could not even get my hands in the pockets. I stared down at the shorts I was about to wear into a mall and at my freshly shaven legs. So smooth and shiny and feminine. I felt a strange tingle run through my body. And then I looked up at the facing of the mall. That’s when I got my first glimpse of him. There was no mistaking the alpha confidence he exuded. Slouched against the main entranceway of the crowded mall with a cigarette dangling from a corner of his mouth. Tight jeans (big bulge unmissable), tight plain white t-shirt, black biker boots. A tattoo on his muscled right arm showed a coiled snake spitting bullets. And he was every bit of the 6’ 3 he’d mentioned in his first message to me. A tough looking, no-nonsense, man’s man. I walked up to him timidly and started to speak nervously and way too quickly: ‘I’m Dave. What’s this all about? How did you get my number and all that info. You said I could trust…’ He stopped me midsentence with a simple look. A look that could not be ignored. A look that told the world that he called ALL the shots. And then he spoke in a deep voice, strangely calm and soothing: ‘Your name is Emily. And you will call me Daddy. At all times. And use your girly voice. I don’t care who hears. And the info? Well, hell, that was easy, sissy. I have facial recognition software. Your picture from your ad and your first name was enough. Got your last name in the first 24 hours. Cracking your Facebook password and from there finding your girlfriend and parent’s info took longer. 13 days to be exact. I was about to give up. Then I remembered something about you, Emily. Your favorite animal. Hedgehog. Bingo! Hedgehog19 with a capital ‘h’ at the start. And now you will do as I say, princess. Don’t try me. Do what I say today and this is all over. Daddy just wants to have some harmless fun with his toy. Say ‘yes daddy’. I gulped, looked around to make sure no one was watching and said the words but he reached out and lightly slapped me across the face. ‘Girl voice, princess. Try again. But this time say ‘yes daddy, I will be a good girl.’ With no choice and feeling the burning on my cheek which made me a little scared, I complied: ‘Yes daddy, I will be a good girl’ Just as I said it, a black guy and his girlfriend walked by me. Did they hear me? The girl laughed as the guy held the front door open for her and they disappeared into the mall. ‘Come on, sissy. Let’s go in. Your first stop will be your favorite. Victoria’s Secret. Every pretty girl likes that store. What did you tell me one time about ‘loving pink’? Ha-ha! Well, we are about to see. Follow behind me by two steps and keep your eyes glued to my boots. If I turn around and you are not following daddy demurely like a prissy girl and staring at his boots in submission, I will take you to one of the benches in the middle of the mall and spank you. Right in front of everyone. I don’t care. I really don’t. Now come on! As we walked, he kept up a steady stream of teasing over his shoulder at me as I stared at his black boots: ‘By the way. Emily, I have changed your Facebook password. Ariana is really hot. I have had some great chats with her. She thinks I am you. I have also friended her under another account. She really likes talking to a real man sometimes instead of her wimpy boyfriend. She likes when I tell her how sexy she is and when I send her pics of my hard cock.’ In a few minutes we stood in front of the store. ‘Now, Emily. You will walk in and ask one of the pretty salesgirls for help. You WILL use your girl voice. I will walk in and stand nearby so I can observe. If you mess this up, there WILL be consequences. I have been really nice about what I post on your Facebook wall but that can change in a hurry if you displease daddy. Ask for help finding something pretty to wear for your boyfriend. Ask for advice about the prettiest panties, bras, and thigh highs. You will finally buy a sexy all pink set. You will insist on wearing them out of the store under your clothes. You will put your male underwear in your pocket and walk back out and meet me in front of the store.’ This seemed like something out of a dream. What could I do? For a moment, I thought about just running away and getting into my car. Calling his bluff. But something told me this man was not playing. Another voice told me I actually wanted this. I would go through with it, at any rate, and maybe he would be satisfied and let me go. For all I knew, he didn’t even have all the info he claimed to have on me. I would just make the best of it. Besides, hadn’t I had fantasies about being ‘forced’ to wear women’s clothes by a man? Hadn’t I fantasied about being humiliated in front of a pretty girl for being a sissy? Well, the salesgirls at Victoria’s Secret were certainly pretty. I could see that right away. A blonde and a brunette stood chatting next to a table strewn with panties with a big ‘LOVE PINK’ sign over it. As I approached, they giggled. They probably went to my college. Jesus! They were also probably used to nervous boyfriends and husbands buying things for girlfriends. And maybe even used to the odd sissy crossdresser with shaky voice and hands quickly picking out and paying for pairs of panties. My thoughts tumbled over each other as I felt Daddy following behind me at a discreet distance. My voice cracked as I began to speak the words he demanded. In my best girly tone, I made a start: ‘E-excuse me? Can you help me pick out something?’ The blonde broke away with a smirk. I was left confronted by the stunning brunette salesgirl. The twinkle in her eye and the slight smile on her lips told me, in no uncertain terms, that she knew I was a sissy. I was dressed in semi-male clothes and talking in a female voice. ‘Sure, sweetheart. What are you looking for exactly?’ ‘Umm, I’m looking for something pretty to wear for my boyfriend. Like bras and panties and thigh high stockings, I guess.’ My voice trailed off in pathetic helplessness. The new look in her eye screamed ‘gay man with a boyfriend.’ I was mortified but at least I had gotten the words out. Maybe the worst was over. She led me to the panty table. She held up a pair of purple hip hugger panties and held them to my waist as my face turned red. Other ladies and young girls milled around. The salesgirl picked up a turquoise g-string panty and dangled it from her finger in front of my face. ‘Perhaps your boyfriend would like you in these?’ Oh my God, she was enjoying herself at my expense. She lingered over the table, talking loudly about the types of panties that men like on their women. Then she led me to the wall. Bras everywhere. Push-up bras. Strapless bras. A cup. D cup. Balcony bras. Demicup bras. Every color imaginable. She asked me what size my breasts were and winked at me. She held several up several bustier tops and made me hold them and feel the silk and lace. Finally, she asked me what color I like best. I knew what daddy wanted to say to this: pink. This seemed to set her in motion. She made a quick circuit of the store and returned with a matching bra and panty set in sheer, very pale pink and white. Then she handed me a pair of thigh highs. What was I to do now? I couldn’t just pay for them. Daddy had given me specific orders and I could see him there near me confidently chatting up the busty blonde. ‘M-may I try on the clothes in the dressing room?’ ‘No sweetie. It’s not hygienic. That is against policy. You can put them on in the dressing room but then you have to buy them. Still want to, sunshine?’ ‘Yes ma’am’ With a smirk, she handed me the bundle of lingerie and pointed with an air of authority at the dressing rooms. A minute later I stood in front of the mirror in the privacy of the little room looking at myself in the mirror. My shorts, shirt, and shoes sat on the little bench beside me. The thigh highs turned out to be very sissy looking socks. They had delicate pink ribbons which I tied at the top front. They gripped my legs and made them look and feel so sexy and soft. Even in my terror, the image excited me. The panties whispered against my tiny, but hardening cock, with every motion. They had a little wispy skirt that fluttered over the actual lace panty part. The feel of the soft, sheer pink bra on my nipples teased me relentlessly with the merest of breaths I took. The feeling of the dainty straps on my shoulders reinforced my humiliation. I had to stop myself from lingering in the dressing room. I was soon dressed and at the counter paying. Girls in line behind me tittered at me in my white girl shorts and pink knee-high socks. I felt as if every woman in the store knew I was wearing the soft pink bra and panty set underneath, too. The blonde at the register handed me back my card and said: ‘Thanks Dave, I mean, thanks Emily. Hope your boyfriend likes your pretty new lingerie. Come back and see us soon. We are having a big VS Pink sale soon. Bye now.’ I walked out of the store. A trail of laughter followed me. I looked around for daddy but he was nowhere to be seen. That asshole! He had told those girls about me. That’s how she knew my sissy name was Emily. Oh, the humiliation. And now he was gone. For a brief moment, relief washed over me. It was over. But it wasn’t. He reappeared by my side. ‘Like your pretty new lingerie, Emily? Daddy is proud of you. You did really well. I got a present for you as a reward.’ This was one of the things he did. He had this knack for being very loving and kind at the same time which really made me feel very feminine. And vulnerable to his charm. But he was just as capable, I knew now, of revealing a much firmer side of himself. ‘Here, princess. Open it up and put your old underwear in. Then you can either carry it or wear it on your shoulder.’ It was a pink purse! Why was he doing this to me? I couldn’t carry a purse around in a crowded mall. No way. The thigh highs and girl shorts were bad enough. But this ultra-girly thing? No fucking way! Sure, at home, I would have wet myself from excitement over it. But here? The purse was pink and small and elaborately decorated. It had two shiny buckle snaps shaped like hearts and, in the center, a gold bow in metal. Attached to one of the buckle-downs was a fluffy white keychain with a sparkly bow above it. Along the edges of the front flap ran a faux-doily in white. Could it get any more ‘little girl’ or feminine? Like so many purses, this one had a small loop for wearing it on the wrist (or in the crook of the elbow) and a longer strap for shoulder wear. I simply had to refuse this embarrassment. I still had some pride. As if he read my mind, daddy spoke: ‘Do as you are told, Emily, or I spank you right there on that bench next to those girl scouts until you cry. Good girl. See? You don’t need those yucky boy underpants anymore. Now thank daddy for your pretty new purse.’ Beaten again. Compliant again: ‘Thank you for my pretty new purse, daddy’ ‘Good girl’ He said the last phrase as he patted me lightly on the head like a pet. Meanwhile, I did my best to hide and hold the purse close to my body. I was NOT going to put in on my shoulder if I had any choice in the matter. Next, daddy pushed me into a women’s shoe store. I had been coached exactly what to say to the pretty sales lady there. In my girl voice, of course, as he stood within listening distance: “I’m looking for a cute pair of low-heeled sandals in pink and a tall pair of white high heels. Can you help me, ma’am? ‘Yes sir..erm..miss’ She actually seemed more embarrassed than me. Daddy seemed highly entertained as he watched me try on the high heels through the plate glass window. Especially since the salesgirl recommended that I take off my cotton, thigh high socks and put on the little sheer black knee-to-toe pantyhose they keep on hand for customers. As instructed, I walked out of the store wearing the pink sandals and carrying the heels in a box. Pink socks back on and little girly shorts on display. I certainly did not want to wear either pair of these shoes through the mall. It wasn’t that the sandals were too tall. It was the flowers adorning the entire front strap wedged between by toes. Ruffled pink flowers. A delicate patent-leather pink strap hooked at my ankle. These shoes obliterated my male ego. I felt beyond self-conscious as I walked out to daddy in them. He made me throw my old sneakers in a trashcan. He made me show him ‘my’ new high heels. When I put them back away, I stood awkwardly holding the shoebox with the white heels and my new purse tightly against my body. Ever the gentleman, daddy helped me. By pulling the strap of my pink purse up onto my shoulder! I stood in my new sandals holding the shoebox wondering what fresh hell he would put me through next. As we walked through the mall, my purse bounced against my hip as an ever-present reminder of my status as daddy’s sissy. I looked around at the shops. Growing more anxious about his next move. Oh fuck! A salon. No! But yes, said daddy’s furrowed brows. Yes, or else. Still, I hesitated. He picked up his phone and asked me if I wanted him to call Ariana. Maybe call my parents? He took a picture of me. Standing in a busy mall in heeled sandals and pink thigh highs with a purse on my shoulder. Then he broke into his usual tactic. All sweetness and reassurance. ‘Daddy is almost done with you, princess. It’s just a salon. Just a few more games. You told me you loved forced feminization and even the threat of blackmail and spanking. You said you love the feeling of being humiliated by women when they see what a sissy you are. That is all we are doing – just playing the games you wanted so badly. Soon, you will be back on campus and this will all be over. You really don’t have a choice, Emily. Do as you are told or I am going to take you out to my truck, tie you up, and put you to work at a gloryhole for the rest of the night. Huh? Want that? I can physically make you. Maybe that suits you better. Put you in a miniskirt and crop top and heels and put you to work sucking dick after dick. Ever had a facial, pansy? Oh, you look a little scared now. Gonna be a good girl for daddy? I thought so. Go on in. Walk up to the nail counter…’ What followed were precise instructions about what I was to ask for. It started with my nails. An hour later I stared down in disbelief at my toes and fingers. They were covered in pink and silver and flowers and glitter. They were extended and shaped. They were inescapable. Nowhere to hide them. In the same salon, daddy made me see a woman name Charlene to have my hair ‘done’. First, I was given hair extensions that hung to the middle of my back and then it was dyed a slutty bleach blonde. Charlene then styled my hair and gave me bangs complete with dangling side strands to frame my face. Under my apron I felt like a prisoner, especially when I caught glimpses of daddy from time to time standing at a distance behind me. Such a jerk. And so casual about the torment he was putting me through. Nonchalantly talking on his phone. Probably to one his buddies or that blonde sales girl from Victoria’s Secret. Not content to simply style my hair in the most girly look ever (waves and a flirty upcurl at the bottom), Charlene shaped my eyebrows in a super-feminine arch before whisking me over to a tanning booth. Daddy must have spoken to them first because the lady in the salon who ran the desk handed me two stencil hearts and told me to put them at the side of my belly. An hour later I emerged. The outline of two cute little hearts on my skin at my waist mortified me. But at least it was covered up by my shirt. I still fooled myself into believing that I actually retained a very small veneer of manhood because of my shirt -  even if my hair was completely girly and I carried a purse and wore pink thigh high, ribboned socks complete with pink sandals. The power of delusion and denial! When would this end? My final stop at the salon was the makeup station. There, a girl-next-door type named Stephanie completely transformed me. She methodically applied primer, concealer, foundation, powder, blush, pink eyeshadow, eyeliner, heavy black mascara, lipliner, pink matte lipstick, and shiny lip gloss to my face as she chattered to me about the latest summer fashions and gushed over my pretty hair and nails. I was in a daze as I walked out of the salon. Imagine my surprise when I saw daddy. He had my girlfriend, Ariana, in his arms and they were kissing passionately. She wore black boots and a sexy black leather skirt and a skimpy white top that showed off her black bra and breasts underneath. She looked somehow more imposing than she had ever looked before. She put a hand up to the side of her head in astonishment and then cupped her hand over her mouth when she saw me and laughed loud and hard as daddy spoke up: ‘Yup, just like I told you on the phone a minute ago, babe. This is the life Emily wants now. That’s why she has been sending you all of those messages on Facebook. About wanting to be a pretty girl. About being true to herself. And now look at her.’ They stood there, side by side. Daddy with an arm around Ariana and one hand rubbing her ass through her tight skirt. It didn’t look like the first time they had been together. They had the air of lovers. I was aghast and confused and conflicted. I feebly tried to explain to Ariana. I even dared to use my male voice: ‘This is bullshit. He made me. He is blackmailing me. Please Ariana, I can explain’ She just giggled and raised her camera, taking video of me before she spoke: ‘Explain? Explain? What is there to explain? I have seen the video of you in your pretty maid’s uniform. I was pretty freaked out at first. Having a sissy for a boyfriend all this time. So pathetic. Posing and simpering for a man on camera. Sweetly telling him how you want a boyfriend while you model like a slut in a maid’s uniform. Proudly saying that you want to be a girl from now on. Even talking about sucking his dick. There is NOTHING for you to explain now, Emily. It is all VERY clear. Oh, and I just love your pretty hair and makeup too, girlfriend. Did daddy buy you those pretty sandals and that purse? Hmm? Say ‘yes ma’am, Miss Ariana, daddy bought them for me’ What? Not her, too! In a broken whisper I rushed through the words as I tried miserably to think of a way out of this: ‘Yes, Miss Ariana, daddy bought me my purse and new shoes.’ She went on: ‘Fucking wimp. Daddy and I have been spending some quality time together. I mean can you blame me? After I got all of those messages from you? Hinting that you wanted help transitioning. Admitting that you like to wear panties. Oh, and look, I even brought you what you have been begging me for over the last few days.’ I looked up and, dangling from her little finger, was a pink plastic chastity cage. That son of a bitch! He’d been sending all kinds of messages to my girlfriend posing as me. Fuck! And still Ariana was not finished speaking, her tone more and more dominant even as daddy rubbed his strong hands up and down her body right in front of me: ‘Come into the little girl’s room with me, Emily, and we will put this on you. After all, you begged for it. You don’t get to have a penis. You only have a clitty and a pussy from now on. OR…I can send the video to your parents? They would be so proud of their only son. I’ll do it. Daddy has been teaching me how to be firm with a little panty pansy like you. Now march!’ A moment later, I emerged from the bathroom with Ariana. In chastity and emasculated. My tiny penis caged. Daddy grinning. The two of them made me stand in front of them as they sat on a bench. Ariana insisted that I stare at her shoes as they kissed deeply, my old girlfriend rubbing daddy’s cock through his pants. Then Ariana took her turn with me around the mall. First, to get my ears pierced. I left Claire’s (which was full of laughing school girls) with a dangly pair of sissy earrings. Drop earrings in the shape of hearts. Three hearts hanging down in shades of red and pink. Moving back and forth with my every step. But that wasn’t all. Ariana also insisted that I get my ‘girly belly pierced’ too. The result? I ended up with a shiny pink-jeweled belly button ring with a heart pendant hanging from it with the words ‘daddy’s girl’ etched into it. Afterwards, Ariana found great glee in parading me through a fancy-dress store. I was fitted with what looked like a prom or homecoming dress. All in white. It was so humiliating to have women pulling and tugging at MY dress and making comments about how cute and adorable it looked. My new dress puffed out at the narrow waist and was accented by a big bow at the center. The bodice was embroidered in a lace flower design. It was sleeveless and made me feel very vulnerable and exposed. Taking her cue from daddy, Ariana made me walk out of the store in the dress after making me switch out my shoes. The pink sandals were replaced by the white six-inch-high heels. I was made to teeter out of the store and pose for more pictures. I stood there in high heels, knee high pink socks, and white prom dress with a pink purse on my shoulder. Ariana just grinned as she took in my pretty bangs and styled hair, my full makeup, my pretty new painted fingernails, and my long earrings. I was beyond numb with the whole experience when a group of four Asian teenage girls walked up giggling and all snapped pictures of me. ‘Please let me go, Miss Ariana!’ I begged. She looked at daddy and they exchanged a meaningful look. I was told to put my old shirt in the garbage and pick up my sandals and carry them to the car with my folded shorts. My walk through the mall in high heels, knee high socks, and dress was excruciating. An hour later, we were back at my apartment on campus. I leaned over the couch, prom dress held up at the hem of the skirts by my painted fingernails, as Ariana injected me in the hip with a needle and then kissed daddy and sat down to gleefully tease me: ‘There you go princess. Your first weekly hormone shot. Soon you will have pretty little boobs just like the girl you want to be. Daddy is almost done packing up your clothes. Can’t forget about your precious maid uniform, can we, Emily? You will be needing that. As it is time for your summer break, we will all be going back to my parent’s mansion today. They will be in Europe for the next 4 months. I will dismiss the servants, of course. You will be the new maid. The new domestic servant. The new housegirl. You know, since you already have the clothes and everything. Haha! Your new life will be cleaning and dusting and ironing and serving. Serving me and daddy in ALL ways, sissy Emily. Maybe by the time my parents come back, you can curtsey and ask them very politely if they can hire you to work full-time as a maid in one of their hotels. You always wanted to work in the hospitality industry. And besides…a pretty girl like you is suited for that kind of work, isn’t she?’ Daddy sat in my favorite chair with my ex-girlfriend in his lap as I lowered the skirts of my prom dress. In one hand, he held the electronic shocker they had recently attached to my chastity cage; an addition recommended by him as a means for Ariana to insure my continuing abject servitude. His other hand manly played, in the smuggest way, with Ariana’s breasts through her shirt. My head bowed obediently and I girlishly replied: ‘Yes, Miss Ariana’. The End My first custom, commissioned story This story will appear on fictionmania.tv tomorrow with pictures. You can find over 60 of my stories there, all free, by searching by author: meganprincess. Please comment/reblog -- source link

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