My first experience in being dominated and feminized now seems so stereotypical to me (and the basis for soooo many feminization fiction story!,) but at the time it was the most terrifying, humiliating, and haunting thing that could happen to anyone in the world.
I was 11 and my sister was 15. We got a lot most of the time as kids but as she moved into her teen years, she considered me a spoiled, messy brat of the first water... good for nothing but annoying her in oh so many ways. I admit I enjoyed pissing her off. I was probably looking for attention at first- but as I got a little older, I started to really try to push her buttons...and I had a smart mouth that made snide comments come easily to me.
Since we were old enough and my sister was already babysitting other kids, my parents took to taking weekend trips- no doubt happy to get away from our bickering. My sister was always left in charge but aside from yelling at me to clean up my messes, she was involved in her own life and spent most of her time in her room.
One Saturday after my parents had left, I was kicking a soccer ball around in the living room and slammed the ball into a picture hung on the wall...shattering the glass and cutting the picture itself. The sound of the crash brought my sister out of her room and into a rage. Yelling that I was in huge trouble by ruining one of my Mom's favorite pictures after being warned about playing ball in the house, she was also furious because she would get some of the blame. Saying I was nothing but a baby who couldn't understand English- she said she would treat me like one. Backing me into a corner, she grabbed me, turned me around, pulled my shorts down and began spanking me...
I started to cry and begged her to stop- promising to behave from now on. I swore I wouldn't be a bratty little brother anymore.... and at that, she did stop. She still held me down but she didn't hit me again. Instead in a laughing voice she said something like "That's right you won't. I'm going to make sure you aren't a bratty little brother- and I know just how to do it! I'm going to make you my sweet little sister!"
I didn't understand that- but the tone of her voice got through to me. I asked her to let me up. She refused and told me that she was serious- and if I didn't do everything she told me for the rest of the weekend...and be a good little girl... she would beat me again AND make sure I got super punished for breaking the picture. I didn't say anything, just tried to stop crying.... so she spanked me again, insisting that I promise to be a good girl. After a few more slaps, I did, and then she let me get up.
She marched me in just my t-shirt up to her room where she told me to take off the shirt while she found me "something pretty." She rustled up a pair of her old panties and a slip and ordered me to put them on.
I just stood there shivering, holding the girl's underwear with my mind desperately trying to come up with a way out of this nightmare. I begged her not to make me wear them... that I was sorry and I would do anything else... but she just smiled. She raised her hand and I cringed back. She told me to put on my new dainty undies or else. Trembling, I put them on.
She turned to her closet and riffled through the back where her old clothes were. She whipped out a dress she had worn on Easter once and again, ordered me to step into it. I did and with a zipping sound, I was wearing a silky smooth dress with puffy sleeves, fancy collar, and a hem that came down above my knees.
She combed it into bangs in the front and made two little scrunchy bunches- held in with barrettes. Then she told me to sit right there like a good girl while she got a few things. I sat there feeling the too tight panties on my bottom and the strange soft clinging of the slip and the dress on my chest. She came back with some makeup and told me to pout up my lips. I could smell the lipstick as she creamed it onto my lips.
She told me what a pretty little prissy sissy sister I was now. Then she made me repeat that several times. She made me look into the mirror so I could see myself.
"Not such a spoiled boy anymore are you... wearing panties and a dress with your hair all done and red lipstick. You're going to pay for everything little sissy," she told me- pulling me to my feet by my hair.
She picked out little socks and after a lot of searching in the bottom of her closet- came up with the shoes she had worn with the dress- what I know now were Mary Jane shoes with a little two inch heel. She told me to put them on- and I did.
Then I was forced to learn how to curtsey like a girl, holding my dress out and bobbing my head. I was made to walk back and forth and instructed to move my hips so my skirt swished. I was told to hold my hands out and up at the wrists, how to sit like a girl with my legs together, and she even insisted that I speak with a lisp in a high voice. All the while she laughed and smirked at my hot blush which showed her how embarrassed I was at being made to dress and act like this.
Eventually- she had me stop and laid down the rules. Not only was I to wear whatever girly things she gave me...I was to act and walk like the prissy little sissy I was. She told me my new name- which was the feminine version of my boy name- and that I was to answer to that name only, since I wasn't a boy anymore.
If I disobeyed or tried to escape, she would beat me and tell everyone that I wore girl's clothes! She pointed out that I couldn't really run away unless I wanted the whole neighborhood to see me in my sissy clothes...and she was right. I would have died, so I obeyed her, as much as it shamed me to prance around like a girl. I felt trapped by her and all of the girl things she'd forced on me. I could feel the air under my dress, the wobble of the shiny shoes, the panties gripping me, the dress rustling, my hair pulled into the bunches, the taste of the lipstick.
And there would be chores... lots of chores which I had escaped from when I was a boy.
That took most of the day, with her usually sitting in whatever room I was working (except the bathrooms.) When I was doing all the laundry- she came by as I was loading up her clothes and said she had an idea...a perfect idea. That had my stomach churning. She told me to finish up and come back to her room, which I knew meant trouble.
When I finally had all the loads in and folded- I went back to her room where she was sitting on the bed, talking on the phone. She was smiling and laughing and then when she saw me she said something quick with her hand over the mouthpiece and hung up. She told me to curtsey and come in and when I did I saw she had a new outfit on the bed beside her.
She told me that since I was being a good sissy girl- she was going to let me wear a new outfit. I was told to take off my old stuff- right down to the panties, and hang my slip and dress back up in her closet. Then she held up a bra- one of her old ones, and told me it was time she gave me some boobs- since I liked to look at them, now I would wear them.
When I hesitated, horrified at the idea of having boobs, she grabbed my wrist and slapped my pantied bottom several times. Then spun me around and fastened the bra around my chest. She told me that since I had been bad- I would have big boobs- which she made by stuffing socks into the bra which held my chest like a vise.
Then it was a pair of pink tights and another poofy dress, with lacy trim, and the shoes again. She did my lipstick again and this time spread some blush on my cheeks. She said now that I was a little more of a grown up girl- she would let me wear nail polish as well. I was sat down again at her desk and she painted my fingernails a bright pink.
Again it was mirror time. I looked at myself all sissied up with make up and a dress and colored tights. I could see my pink nails when I moved my hands but the worse was the way the dress was stretched tightly over my too-big boobs. I couldn't stop looking at them, feeling the bra bite into my shoulders. My sister noticed and cupped my boobs from behind telling me that now nobody would think I was anything but a girly sissy with such big tits. She made me say how much I liked them and what a lucky sissy I was to have developed so fast.
Then the doorbell rang and she pushed me out and down the stairs and ordered me to open the door. I shook my head-terrified at being seen- so she slapped me and told me she had guests coming. Quivering with shame and fear, I opened the door to see her best friends from next door standing in the doorway- wide eyed at the sissy in front of them....
