Stories & Poems
Madam Raison D'etre makes holly Sparkle
I arrived at the car park of Madam's luxurious apartment exactly at 5pm,
knowing if I arrived a minute later than ordered I would suffer dire and
unspeakable punishment. My stomach was knotted with fear and trepidation,
wrapped in the most exquisite excitement.
The day had arrived that I had anticipated and dreamt of since the day I had
received Madam's explicit instructions. The day of my transformation, the day of
my parading, the day my inner butterfly would break out from the cocoon and
holly would be presented at... Sparkle!
I tentatively rang the buzzer, clutching tightly the packet of Wolford
20-denier sheer silk black hold up stockings - large size - that Madam had
ordered I purchase. My first embarrassing mission accomplished. The door clicked
open, I endered. Behind me, I heard the soft smooth as silk whisper, breathe in
my ear: "Welcome little holly." That voice, its hypnotic effect, bore through my
whole being; I knew my Mistress had me in thrall, I would become whatever she
desired of me this night, without hesitation.
Madam ordered me to remove all my clothes, my manly exterior left behind, and
she led me into her boudoir, for the transformation to begin an Aladdin's Cave of frills and satin, of lingerie
and corsets, of stilettos and high leather boots. My heart raced at what was to
come. Madam knew exactly what she wanted holly to be for her. Planned in every
detail, she had my transformation laid out ready for me. Satin panties, lace
brassiere, black and pink satin Voller's corset and the most beautiful black
satin burlesque full crepe open skirt, matched with the stockings and open-toed
black patent four inch heel anklestrapped sandals. Madam could see the pleasure
and wonder etched across my face as she told me to upt the knickers on. As the
satin encased my loins, I felt my member grow at its touch. Madam saw this too
and her hand firmly thwacked my satin cheeks "Holly must control herself", she
laughed.
"Sit", she commanded, "the Transformation will begin."
I sat before a huge vanity mirror with creams and potions laid out before me.
For the next hour, Madam laboured with the expertise of a professional magician.
Foundation, eye shadow, glued on lashes so long they tickled my eyebrows,
lipstick, gloss, nail polish, layer upon layer, my old man self disappeared, a
new face was appearing in that mirror, a pretty face, a different face, a lady
face, even perhaps a not unattractive face... and now the piece de resistance,
the shoulder length brown cascading wavy hair... holly was born!
Madam's charming sissy maid Eve had now arrived and assisted me in dressing,
tightening the corset with such force that my breath was taken away as my waist
was pinched and my ribs crushed, creating a must curvaceous figure. The
stockings against my skin again made my member grow, but the shoes and heels and
the initial attempts at walking as holly made us all laugh and immediately the
concentration required to stay upright immediately controlled 'the problem'.
As we waited for Madam to present herself, Eve explained what Sparkle was
about. An annual celebration of transgender, transvestites and cross-dressing. A
parade of femininity held each year in Manchester's Gay Village. How could I be
exhibited there, my fears and excitement returned. But then we gasped as Madam
entered the room. Such beauty, such elegance, a Goddess, her cleavage spilling
over the silky blue corset, her long shapely legs encased in black seamed
stockings, her magnificent peacock headdress like a gilded crown above her
flowing tresses.
Madam Raison D'etre, holly and Eve, a queen with her two ladies in waiting
were ready. Madam sprinkled glitter over us, and holly indeed did truly sparkle.
Would holly survive her parade, and sparkle at Sparkle?
That is a story for another day.
 |
Wherever Mistress goes,
you will no doubt
always find
one of her pink poodle bitches
at
Her side |
|
