Date: Tue, 18 May 2010 21:33:51 +0200 (CEST)
From: trevormaytum <trevor@maytum.fsnet.co.uk>
Subject: Georgina (cat. forced crossdressing/sissy old and young)

GEORGINA
A Boy Transformed into a Pretty Girl

She held her stepson's hand in a firm grip and led him upstairs to the new
bedroom. "Close your eyes," she said, letting go his hand. "I want this to
be a lovely surprise for you." They went in. The room smelled freshly
painted and clean, a sweet lavender fragrance hung in the air. "All right,
George, you can open them now."

   George looked around the room. There were pink curtains with matching
bedding and lampshade. Woven into the fabric of these items were pictures
of Cinderella and Prince Charming. There was a variety of dolls on the
window sill and fluffy toys on the bed. George was dumbstruck. This was not
what he'd been expecting at all. "Where are my things?" he said.

  "I've got rid of them," she said. "Everything you need now is here."
Before he could recover his wits his stepmother added: "Close your eyes
again, George. I have an even bigger surprise for you."

   He did so, but feared the worst because of what he'd already seen. He
felt his stepmother's hands on his shoulders, turning him a quarter-turn to
the left. "No peeping," she whispered. Her warm, fragrant breath feathered
his ear. He could smell her sweet perfume. It made him light-headed. She
was beautiful as well as strict. Her hands slipped away from his
shoulders. There was the sound of a key turning in a lock and a door
creaking open. He wasn't sure he wanted another surprise like the last one
and his heart beat loudly. He had become confused and a little anxious.

  "Open your eyes."

   George did so and found himself looking into a fully stocked
wardrobe. He couldn't believe it. It was more than a surprise - this was a
complete and utter shock!

  "It's a girl's wardrobe," he exclaimed, his jaw dropping. "I don't
understand. These are clothes for a girl." He was filled with dread.

  "Exactly!" said the stepmother. "And from now on you will be dressed as a
girl, you will act like a girl and your name will be Georgina."

  "Georgina..?" George was exasperated. He felt dizzy and suddenly quite
inexplicably, short of breath.

  "Yes, my dear? Georgina... and I'm going to make you look and feel like a
girl too? the prettiest, the beautifullist, most gorgeously sweet girl the
world has ever seen."

  "But, Stepmother?" George suddenly his stomach knot.

  "No buts. I have made up my mind and whenever I make up my mind... well,
I needn't tell you, need I?"

   George knew she was immovable once her mind was set. She could never be
persuaded to change it. He would have had an easier time moving
mountains. But why should she want to change him into a girl now that his
father had died? He dared to ask the question and was answered curtly:

  "Because it is what I want."

  "What about me? What about what I want?"

  "You wouldn't understand, but I've always yearned for a little girl, a
daughter, someone I could enjoy dressing up. I've never been able to have
any children of my own and it's not the same with a boy. Of course I could
never tell your father this. It would have upset him too much."

  "You can't mean what you say, Stepmother?"

  "Why don't you call me Mummy now? 'Stepmother' sounds so matriarch and
austere."

  "Mummy?"

  "Yes, I'd really like that. After all I am your proper mother for all
intents and purposes, and especially as I am now your sole guardian. Oh
we're going to have so much fun." She clasped her hands in glee.

   George couldn't believe his ears. So now his father had died, she wanted
to make him into a sissy. She stood in front of George, hung her arms
loosely around his neck and looked deep and lovingly into his eyes. "You
are extremely pretty for a boy, George... too pretty in fact. You are far
better suited to being a Georgina? long dark eyelashes, big brown eyes,
soft sensitive lips - so, so feminine." She smoothed his hair and kissed
his cheek. "And you must not worry about a thing; I will teach you what to
say and do. How to behave, the correct manners to display in company, the
appropriate attire for different occasions, etc. etc. etc. And I will imbue
you with real femininity and with feminine ways. You will feel and act like
a sweet girl by the time I've finished with you."

  "But why, Stepmother? I couldn't possibly be a girl and I don't want to
be one either. I want to stay as I am. And what about school? All the other
boys will laugh at me." George's heart raced and thundered in his ears. He
began to get himself into a stew. Tears welled in his eyes.

  "I've already thought of that, and that's why I've arranged for you to
attend a special all-girls school this autumn. So there's no need to worry
about silly boys' opinions."

  "What?"

   This was the final straw. The news that he was to be sent to an
all-girls school cut through him like a rusty blade. He felt hurt and
helpless.

  "I've even got your uniform for you - your gym tunic and a red sash and?"

  "No, no, Stepmother. How could you be so cruel? I want to stay at my own
school."

  "Well, you can't, Georgina. I have made all the necessary
arrangements. You leave your school this summer anyway to start senior
school in September. So it will all work out very nicely. Everything is
prepared."

  "But honestly, Stepmother, I couldn't possibly?"

  "Now that's quite enough, you silly goose. What would your father have
thought if he were to hear you now, complaining and playing up like this?
You're acting like a spoilt brat."

  "I just don't know what to think. I'm all hot and confused."

  "You'll think differently when you see yourself in the mirror, wearing a
lovely pink, yellow or a sequined dress and with your hair all done nicely
and your face made-up. You will soon get used to it. You will learn to love
the swish of chiffon over your legs as you twirl round, the wonderful feel
of satin and lace against your skin, the exquisite sensation of being
tightly laced into a bodice. Now slip your clothes off for me and let us
try you in a... let me see?" George's stepmother leafed through the row of
pretty dresses, separating and sliding the items along the rail until she
found the one she wanted. "Yes, here we are? I think pink. A pink frock to
start with."

   The tears literally sprang from his eyes. His stepmother ignored
him. She took the dress off the rail, held it up and admired it and then
laid it lovingly on the bed. Then she guided him over to the wicker chair
by the dressing table. His legs seemed to have turned to rubber.

  "Undress here and fold your clothes neatly on the chair. You won't need
them anymore. I'll wash them and take them to the charity shop. Take your
vest and pants off too. I have a drawer full of the prettiest, softest
knickers you could ever imagine. I will choose a pair for you."

   George was horrified. "No, you can't make me wear knickers."

  "Now, Georgina? that's quite enough."

  "Please, Stepmother?"

  "Shhh! What a fuss! Do you want me to smack you?"

   George shook his head. He felt desperate and defeated. Where was his
fight?

  "Well then. And there's no need to cry. Now be quick. I will wait with
you while you take your old clothes off. This is your last time as a
boy. Hurry up, please. I can't wait to see how you look in a frock."

   "You're going to watch me undress as well, Stepmother?"

  "Yes, I am. Try and remember to call me Mummy."

  "But I'm eleven now, er? Mummy." Saying 'Mummy' after all these years of
saying 'Stepmother' seemed strange to him. "I don't need you to watch me."

  "We are to have no secrets from each other. I will supervise your
ablutions and dressing every day. I will make sure you always look your
best before you leave the house. I will show you how to use the bathroom
like a lady and lots of other things too."

   Georgina's 'mummy' produced a scented handkerchief from the sleeve of
her cardigan and held it to her (George's) nose. "Now give a nice big blow
for me and let's have no more silly tears. Come on, I'll help you undress."

   Just then George threw himself onto the bed in a last ditch fit of
temper. He pounded the pillow with his fists and kicked. "I won't, I
won't...  I WON'T!"

   His stepmother watched him silently for a few moments. She knew it was
better to let him vent his anger naturally and by ignoring him, she would
be punishing him anyway. She would be patient and let him calm down of his
own accord, give him time to think about how foolish he had looked to show
himself up in front of her. She would not be swayed by outbursts of
emotion. Soon the tantrum ended.

  "What a silly goose you are Georgina. All you've done is wasted your
energy and for no good reason. Do you feel better for it?"

  "No!"

  "No, of course you don't and I still want you to dress for me, so you
see, nothing's changed. You might as well have just got on with it and
saved yourself the aggravation."

  "No, I won't... You can't make me. I won't be a girl... not for anyone."
But George's voice lacked conviction now. It was token and piecemeal
resistance. He had surrendered in all but gesture. His crying may have
stopped and his spirit broken, but his body remained physically stubborn.

  "But you are a girl already. You're just in the wrong clothes. Oh really,
Georgina, are you going to lie there all day with your head buried in the
pillow sulking?"

  "Yes!"

  "I'm very disappointed in you, I really am."

   The stepmother calmly went to the drawer and brought out a brand new red
sash. She grabbed her stepson's right arm and loosely tied his wrist to the
bedpost before he realised what was happening. He thought she was caressing
not tying him. "Hey," he said, but lying face down he was at a disadvantage
and it was easy for her to hold him still and tie the loop. Then she
fetched a blue sash and tied his left ankle in the same manner to the
bottom of the bed. Thus tethered he was diagonally opposed and
ineffectual. It was then a simple matter to immobilise his free right leg.

  "Now, Georgina... You have a hand spare. I want you to raise your left
trouser leg for me please. Hold it out of the way so I may smack you."

  "What?"

  "I warned you. You know perfectly well I do not make idle threats. Now
that you have disgraced yourself with your childish show of temper and
still refuse the change your clothes, I am going to smack your legs as
promised to prove to you I mean what I say."

  "No, stepmother... I will not be smacked!"

  "Oh dear, you're a stubborn little madam, aren't you? just like your
father. I'm only pleased that he isn't here to see you behave like
this. All right, I will smack lower down then... it's all the same to me."

   George's stepmother tugged his left sock down and began smacking the
bare calf. SMACK, SMACK, SMACK! Then it was the right one and after that
she raised both trouser legs and slapped the backs of his thighs until they
were quite pink and tingly and warm.

  "This is extra for not being helpful."

   George wriggled and writhed but could not escape because of the clever
way she had tied him. He was only secured in two places and not cruelly,
but he could turn neither left nor right. He thrashed around and yelled but
she ignored him and only stopped smacking when George gave way to genuine
tears of contrition and appeared truly sorry. She untied him and made him
stand in front of her, watching the hot tears roll lazily down his cheeks,
holding his hands while she sat on the bed and contemplated him. Although
feeling frustrated and defeated, George thought again how beautiful his
stepmother was. Why hadn't he thought so before? Was he seeing her in a
different light now? He wiped his eyes with his fists so he could see
clearly. She seemed absolutely radiant, triumphant even. There was a light
in her dark eyes. He felt weak, contrite and somehow complicit facing her
now. He was part of what was happening, what she was doing. She drew him to
her, hugging him so he could feel the hard points of her warm bosom
pressing into him. Her perfume once again made him feel light headed. The
backs of his legs were still warm and tingled pleasurably.

   Then she held him at arm's length and said: "I think we understand each
other now, Georgina," and began unbuttoning his shirt.



(?to be continued?)