Uncle Wally’s Sissy Wife
By: Date: 2024.02.11. Categories: Sex Stories Tags: , , , , , , ,

I did not know what I could expect, as the Greyhound
pulled into the bus station. I did not know a whole lot
in fact, as I was a rebellious know it all, fifteen year
old brat.

My parents were pretty good as far as parents went. I
had not locked a roof over my head, or enough food on
the table, but I had always resented the fact that my
parents were not rich enough to give me everything that
I wanted. I knew in the back of my mind that this was a
pretty immature attitude, but what the hell, it was the
way I felt.

I also did not hesitate to let my parents know how I
felt, after all, it was their fault, right? I did not
ask to be born into such a poor home. If they had really
wanted kids, they should have waited till they had a lot
more money for them, before they had any kids.

At fifteen, I had reached my last straw, though I was
too thick headed to know it. Last week, the school I had
been attending finally gave up on me. I was not a really
bad kid, it was just that I was always getting caught at
some stupid prank or another. They had expelled me, and
told my parents that I was not welcome back.

That was it.

My mom cried all night. My dad threatened to beat the
shit out of me. I decided that I did not have to put up
with it, so I just left the house. I was gone for two
days. When I got hungry enough, I went home.

I went home to a very solemn home indeed.

Mom and dad just looked sadly at me. They told me that
they had come to the conclusion, that because of the way
that I treated them, that I must really hate them. I
told them that it was stupid to say that, but they just
sadly looked at me, and told me that this is what they
believed.

They apologised for being the kind of parents that had
produced a kid like me. They told me that in a last
ditch effort to try and make something good of my life,
they had asked my mom’s brother in California if he
would be willing to take me in. Uncle Wally had said
yes, on the proviso that they would not criticise him
for anything that he may do to try and redeem me.

It was up to me. If I did not want to go, I could leave
the house right then, and it would be over. I would be
welcomed back, if and when I could show that I was
endeavouring to make something positive with my life.

The idea of being able to live in California was
intoxicating. I did not need to think about it. I knew
already that if I was kicked out of the house, that I
could not make it on my own. I had nearly starved in the
last two days. I figured that no matter what this uncle
that I had never met might want to try, it would be
easier to live on the streets in California than it was
to try it where I was.

I agreed to go.

**

The next morning, my mom packed my bags for me, gave me
$40.00 for spending money on the way, and she said good
bye to me, wishing me the very best. She did not try to
make me promise anything stupid, like to obey my uncle
or something like that. I figured I was finally getting
out of prison, a prison not of my own making.

The trip took two days and two nights. When we finally
pulled into the bus station, I was so exhausted from
trying to sleep on the bus, that I had difficulty in
keeping my eyes open.

My first impression of my uncle was that he was stocky,
maybe around 5’8″ or 5’9″ tall. He looked like he could
take care of himself. He was in his late forties. He
towered over my 5′ 3 3/4″ 148 lbs. frame. I figured
that until I could figure the angles, that I had best
try to get along with him, and his rules.

I did not even notice that he did not pick up my
luggage, as he greeted me, and led me out to his
convertible. It was not a muscle car, but it was a nice
looking blue convertible, with white plush seats. It
looked kind of new, but maybe he just took good care of
it.

On the way home, he told me that my mom was really
worried about me. He told me that they had a number of
telephonic conversations, and that between my mom and
dad, and him, that they had concluded that what I needed
in my life was a paradyne shift.

The unfamiliar term perked me up, as far as it could,
considering how tired I was. I asked him what he meant.

He smiled at me.

“Well, you see that big store over there? Well, suppose
that you was born in that building. Suppose that as you
grew up, that you gradually explored that whole store,
learning every department that is in it. That store is
your whole life to that point in time. Everything you
know is based on your experience in that store.
Everything you understand is based on the things that
you have learned in that store.

Then one day, you accidentally find the front door.
Suddenly, as you go through that door, you realise that
your entire understanding of the world, which was all
focused around the inside of that store, has to be re-
evaluated, because you have discovered a world that is
beyond anything that you had ever encountered before.
You will have to relearn everything. You would have to
learn to appreciate and understand things now from an
entirely new perspective.

Does that make any sense to you?”

“Yeah… I guess? What does that have to do with me.?”

“Well, the paradyne that you have lived in up till today
is what has moulded and contributed to your character
and personality. We all know that it is not the best of
results. That is sort of like growing up in that store
that we were talking about. What you need is a paradyne
shift. In other words, you need to go through a door,
and enter a different world, in order to grow up and get
on with your life. There is far more to life that you
think that there is.”

“I think I understand?”

“Good. As of today, consider yourself as standing out in
the parking lot. You now have a new life to live, one
that will be completely different than anything that you
have been used to before. Okay?”

“Sure, I am game for anything, I guess.”

“Good. Here we are. This is my house.”

He pulled into a three car wide driveway. There was no
garage. The house looked kind of like a stucco bungalow,
the kind that you might expect to see in a western movie
or something. It did have a very large picture window
that I liked, and I could see lots of house plants on
the inside.

It still did not dawn on me, that when we left the car,
my four bags of luggage were not there.

I was excited. This was not the house of a wealthy man,
but it was a really nice little house. I would like
living here, I was pretty sure. For the first time, I
was glad that my uncle was not willing to completely
give up on me, the way that everyone else in my life
had.

He led me into the large living room. There was a large
mantle and fire place along the far wall. It looked far
bigger on the inside, than it had looked from the
outside. I smiled. This was more my style.

I was drained, and was only half conscious of him taking
my hand, as though I was a little girl, and leading me
into the kitchen. I sat on a bar stool at the island
counter, and he poured me an orange juice. It was the
freshest orange juice that I had ever tasted.

Then uncle Wally took my hand and led me into my new
room. The fact that the room was obviously that of a
teen aged girl registered on my mind, but I was too
tired to ask if he had another room that I could use. I
was amazed that I seemed to have suddenly lost all of my
strength.

I sagged onto the bed. He smiled down at me, and he
started to take all of my clothes off. He spent a bit of
time looking down at me. He smiled, and he told me that
I was going to make a very pretty young lady. Then he
sat me up, and pulled the top half of a very soft pink
night gown down over my head. I watched helplessly as he
then raised up each one of my legs, and started to pull
a pair of pink panties up my legs. I was astounded at
how wonderfully soft they were.

I was also astounded to find that they made me feel like
a girl. Worse, as my uncle pulled out the pink satin
sheets, and worked my lifeless body in under them, I
started to get a raging hard on. I was so ashamed,
especially when he noted it, and reached down to lightly
caress me through the silk panties.

He was making me feel like a sissy… And I liked the
feeling. He leaned over and kissed me lightly on the
lips, and told me that I was having a paradyne shift,
and that like at that store we had talked about, I had
just walked through the door and walked into the parking
lot. Then he pulled the blankets up, tucking me into my
new girl’s bed, kissed me again, and wished me nice
dreams.

He left me to myself then. Needless to say, I was one
very confused little boy. I had a night of very confused
dreams as well. In most of the dreams, I was wearing
pretty dresses, like a pretty girl. I even looked
pretty.

Worse, in one of the dreams, near the end of the long
night, I saw myself being kissed by a boy, and I liked
being kissed by the boy. I could not see his face, but I
suspected that he looked a lot like a younger version of
my uncle.

Two

The first thing that I became aware of was the loud
songs from birds. I opened my eyes into a very brightly
lit room. I glanced over to where the light came in
from. It looked like the whole wall was made of glass,
with sliding doors. The doors were open, and lacy
curtains were flapping gracefully in the breeze that
came in through the screened door.

I could smell the wonderfully aromatic fragrance of back
yard flowers as they wafted into the room. I remembered
all of the strange dreams, and mostly, the lingering
feelings of how nice it had felt like to be a pretty
girl, pursued by hot blooded young American boys.

I tried to shake off the feelings. They were not right.
I was a guy.

I looked around the room. It was a girl’s room, of that
there could be no doubt. The walls were a pale pink,
with huge posters of girls with horses, girls in
ballerina poses, and one very large one of a naked
chested Fabio. The furniture was all a light off white
colour, in a Spanish design. There was a long dresser
with three sets of three tiers of drawers in it. Over it
was a very large mirror that threw back the feminine
brightness of the room against the other three walls.

I became aware that I had stiff white lave tickling my
chin. I looked down. The sheets that I was lying in were
pink satin. I had to admit that it had certainly been
the nicest feeling sleep that I had ever experienced
before. I moved my legs, and nearly swooned with the
delightful sensations on my skin.

I looked around the room a bit more. Against the far
wall, I could see two slightly ajar doors. One looked
like it led into a bath room, while the other one looked
like it led into a closet of some sort. In one corner
was a large full lengthed mirror, on an ornate white
frame. It looked like it also had side mirrors that
could be folded out, so that the observer would be able
to see herself from three perspectives all at the same
time.

I stirred, forcing myself to leave the wonderfully
inviting bed. When I stood up, I felt the night gown
fall in a soft whisper, down to about mid thigh. It was
then that I remembered seeing my uncle dress me in it.
At the same time that I remembered that I was also
wearing girl’s panties, I began to feel the soft
material as it caressed a growing erection. This could
not be right? I was not supposed to get excited by
wearing girl’s clothes. I was a guy.

But I could not deny how wonderful the soft silk felt on
my erection. I was not able to resist lowering my hand,
and lightly caressing the front of the skirt of my night
gown. It made such a soft feminine whisper as I touched
it. The sound made me pull my hand back, as though I had
been burned by the silky material of my night dress.

“My night dress…” Where on earth did that idea come
from. I looked around for some slippers. All I found
were a pair of delicate things that looked like they
would break apart if anyone tried to wear them, with big
fluffy puffs of pink stuff on the toes. I stepped into
them. They had a one and a half inch high heel, which I
found did not cause me a problem. I felt too exposed in
the night gown. Looking around for something to cover it
with, I found a floor length peignoir made of pink silk,
laying across the foot of my bed.

Knowing that beggars could not be choosers, I picked it
up, and slid the soft sensuous sleeves up over my arms.
It secured in the front with three pink satin ribbons,
one under my chin, one at my breasts, or where breasts
would have been if I had really been a girl, and one
high on the waist. I tied little bows in the ribbons, so
that I would be able to untie them quickly, when the
time came.

I moved away from the bed. The silky material caressed
my legs as it swished lovingly around me, as I walked.

I did not want to. Gawd alone knew how much I did not
want to, but I loved the way that it felt. The silky
material on my legs, the panties around my hips, and the
enforced mincy step of the delicate shoes I wore, all
combined to make me feel girlish, and feminine. I was a
boy, and I tried to put it out of my mind, but it seemed
that the more I struggled with the delightful feelings
of femininity, then more I liked the way it felt.

I figured that I must look a mess, so I walked over to
the vanity, because I had noted that there was a brush
on it. I sat on the soft satin covered seat, before I
looked in the mirror. I picked up the brush. I had to
look in the mirror, though I was scared of what I would
see there. I did not want to see myself, dressed in such
feminine finery.

I was startled at what I did see. I looked the same as I
did every morning, including the mess of thick shoulder
length hair that had to be brushed out, except that I
had never seen myself dressed in pink before. I looked
almost the same, but suddenly, I realised for the very
first time in my life, that I looked like a girl.

My hand shook as I started to run the brush through my
hair. I tried not to look at the girlish face, framed by
the soft pink silk of my sleep wear, but it was a girl’s
face now. It had never occurred to me before that I
looked more like a girl than a guy. I knew that I was
considered to be cute, because every girl that I knew
had told me that I was really a cute guy. But no one had
ever told me that I looked like a girl.

My hair was thick and shiny, and fell in large thick
folds to my shoulders. I could not deny the truth of it.
Seeing myself reflected in the mirror, while I was in
girl’s clothes, made me realise that I did not look like
the rebellious street youth that I had always thought of
myself as. No… I looked like a girl. Maybe I had
subconsciously always known it, and that was why I had
tried to act like such a macho ass hole? I had always
fought, very hard when anyone had ever called my
masculinity into question.

Now, no matter what I felt about boyhood, I could not
deny that I was looking at a girl.

Strangely, I became acutely aware of the softness of my
clothing, and aware that only girls wore clothes like
this. My cock started to stir in my panties again, not
because I was turned on by being close to a pretty girl,
but because I was starting to feel like a pretty girl. I
wanted to cry.

I managed, by an enormous act of self strength, to pull
myself together. my stomach rumbled, reminding me that I
had not used my mother’s $40.00 for food as she had
intended, but I had wasted it away in pin ball machines.
I was very hungry.

Not knowing what I should do, the odor of frying bacon
permeated the room, and I nearly feinted from hunger.

I stood, gathering the peignoir about my trim little
waist, I headed for the door. I hoped that my uncle
would not hate me when he saw what I was wearing, but it
was all his fault. I had nothing else to wear. I kind of
hoped, though I hated myself for the thought, that he
would think that I was pretty.

I made myself, hands trembling in nervous fear of being
laughed at and rejected by my uncle, and turned the door
knob. I stepped out into the hall way, and I heard the
delicate click of my heels on the bare hard wood floor
of the hall way. I blushed. I sounded so much like a
girl. I heard the swish of my clothing, as I started to
click in my mincing steps, down the hall way, not sure
of where I was going, but following the enticing aroma
of the bacon, now enhanced with the odor of fresh brewed
coffee.

I walked along, feeling like a fish out of water. I had
no knowledge of what my uncle was like. I had no idea of
what was in this house that was my new home. I had no
idea of how I should act, dressed up in girl’s clothes,
as I was. Should I act like an ass hole, like I normally
did when I was afraid and uncertain, and try to bluff my
way out of it? Or, and this thought sobered me, should I
act like a sissy, like a girl?

My hunger pangs would not let me withdraw back to the
safety of the boudoir that I had just left. I was
famished, and I felt very feint. I had not choice. I had
to confront this man who had tried turning me into a
girl, for who only knew what reasons that he might have.

I found myself leaving the hall way, and stepping into a
wide foyer like room. On the right was the living room,
and on the left was a wide arch way that led into the
kitchen. I had never been scared of any thing or any
one, but I felt like a weak little sissy, standing there
in my sissy clothes, about to enter into the presence of
the man who had so completely effeminated me.

My stomach fluttered in nervous fear. Would he hate me?
How should I act. Would he expect for me to act like a
girl? How could he want me to act like a boy, when he
had made me dress up like this? What to hell was all
that paradyne shit?

I steeled myself and walked into the brightly lit room.
I recalled what the room looked like, as soon as I saw
it.

He was standing, bent over the stove. I could hear the
sizzling bacon. I could smell the coffee, and the
toast. I noted that a wisp of smoke was starting to come
from the toaster. Almost before I could even think about
what I was doing, I minced over to the toaster, and
popped the button up, making a loud click as the toaster
yielded up its treasure.

I saw the butter and a butter knife. I wondered what he
was thinking of me, as I could feel his eyes on me, as I
picked up the knife and buttered the toast. I saw that
there was another two slices of bread on the counter, so
I put them into the slots of the toaster, then turned to
face my mentor.

What I saw surprised me. I did not know what to expect,
but what I saw was definitely not what I was expecting
to see. Uncle Wally stood there in a relaxed pose, with
a wide almost wolfish grin on his face as his eyes moved
from the top of my head, very slowly down to pink puffy
toes of my slippers which peeked out from under the hem
of my peignoir, and moved back up.

I felt like I was being examined by a wolf, waiting to
devour me. I suddenly realised that I was being looked
at in exactly the same way that I had often looked at
pretty girls. I had wanted to intimidate them, and make
them just a wee bit afraid of me, in the mistaken belief
that this would endear me to them.

Now I knew what it felt like to feel that I was being
undressed by a predator. I blushed, and I reached down
to pull the peignoir tighter around me, as thought the
flimsy silk was able to protect me. I knew that it was a
foolish thing to do, not to mention totally useless, but
I did it. I also knew that I was acting just like a
girl.

“Well, good morning honey. My, you look even prettier in
the sun shine than you did last night when you first got
here. I hope that you had a good sleep? My oh my, you
are a very fine looking young lady… You really are you
know?”

His words were like a two by four slamming into my
forehead. So, I was not dreaming. Someone else thought
that I looked like a pretty girl to. What was happening
here? I was too famished though, to deal with any idea
that was not directly related to getting food into my
stomach. My tummy growled. “My tummy?” I did not have a
tummy. Girls and little kids had tummies. What was
happening to me?”

In seconds, we were seated across from each other, at
the island bar, and I was soaking my toast into the
bright yellow of the soft poached egg that my uncle had
prepared for me. I wanted to have some of the home fries
that he was piling on his plate, but he told me that
girls did not eat like that, and that I would have to
get used to the new rules that I would have to live by.

I said nothing, as I sated my hunger. I figured that I
could bide my time, and I would be able to figure out
some way of getting what I wanted. I always had before,
after all.

When we were done, Wally told me to go to my shower, and
he would lay out some clothes for me while I refreshed
myself. I did not even wonder what he was going to lay
out for me, but I went to the shower. The water was so
nice as the hot drops splattered against my tense
shoulder muscles.

In a few minutes, I had emerged from the shower, I had
not washed my hair, as I did not want to deal with the
long stuff at that point in time. I wanted to confront
my uncle, and find out what the hell was going on.

I walked back into the bed room, and nearly feinted when
I saw what he had laid out for me on the bed. I looked
around the room, and I soon realised that the only
clothes that I had that I could wear, were girl’s
clothes. I knew only too well that I had to wear what
was on the bed, or something that was just as feminine
from the drawers or the closet. This room had nothing
but feminine, and I mean feminine, girl’s clothes. Lots
of girl’s clothes are not feminine. Not so with the
collection of clothing that was in this room.

Resignedly, knowing that I would have to be vigilant to
find a way out of this pink silk trap that I now found
myself it, I sat on the bed. First to put on was a pair
of nylons. The tops of the nylons were of a lacy design
that covered strong elastic. I vaguely recalled that
these were called stay up thigh highs. I pulled them on.
I did not want to, but I could not help but to like the
sensuous feeling of the soft feminine material as it
clung to my still hairless legs.

The under wear was a pair of silky pink briefs. My
fingers trembled as I picked up the delicate intimate
girl garment, and held it up in front of me. For a
moment, I did not know which was the front or the back,
but I could see that the back was a bit fuller than the
front. There was fancy writing across the front, so I
turned them to see what it said. It said, “Debi’s
Saturday Panties.” I blushed. This was Saturday.

I pulled the panties on. The stiff white lace at the
panty waist and the leg holes was a bit rough on my
skin. There was also a bra, with small gelatine filled
inserts for the cups. I sighed, knowing that if I had to
wear girl’s clothes, that I had better do everything I
could to look like a real girl, or I would certainly get
the shit beat out of me, by guys who were just like me
in attitude.

I put the bra on, and I slid the small flesh coloured
pads into the lacy cups. I felt the weight they made, as
I suddenly felt the unfamiliar pull of bra straps across
my shoulders. Next came a soft pink tee shirt. I knew
that girls did not call them tee shirts, but I did not
know what it was called. I lowered it over my head, and
I felt the soft cool silk caress my back. I felt like I
was feeling girlhood come down over me, as the wispy
garment fell to my shoulders. I looked down, and noted
that the lace trim of the bodice moulded itself around
my pseudo breasts, making me look just like a real girl.
I blushed.

I stood up, and found that there was a half slip that
matched all of the other under wear. I stepped into it
and raised it up over my nyloned legs, and I nearly fell
in love with they way they made me feel. They were so
wonderfully soft. It was not wonder that girls loved
wearing this stuff, it felt so nice on the skin.

I caught myself. I was not going to allow myself to
think like that. I was not going to let myself envy the
real girls for being allowed, not only allowed, but
expected to wear things like this. I was a boy, no
matter what I looked like in the mirror. I was a boy, no
matter what my uncle had said this morning. I was a boy.

Fixing that thought firmly in my mind, I stepped into
the white high heels. Again, heels were only about two
inches high, so I was not going to have a lot of trouble
balancing on them. I knew only too well though, that if
a guy ever tried to come on to me, that I would never be
able to either fight or to run away from him, not
wearing these shoes.

Next on the pile of clothes was a white silk blouse. I
found that the buttons caused me a wee bit of problems,
till I would get used to them, and again I chided myself
for that thought. I was not ever going to get used to
buttoning a girl’s blouse onto me. Not ever. With that
idea also fixed in my mind, I went over to the mirror,
to help with buttoning up the froth of lace flounce that
attached to the blouse under the lace trimmed collar.
The sleeves were full, and secured by a long cuff that
had three small pearl buttons on it. When they were done
up, I had to admit that I loved the way the big blowsy
sleeves felt when they caressed my arms with even the
slightest movement of my hands. It was a very feminine
garment. I could see a very faint trace of the pink
lingerie through the thin delicate material of the
blouse. I blushed, realising what an utterly feminine
picture I must make.

I went back to the bed. I picked up the skirt, and it
took me a few minutes to figure out how to put it on. It
too was white. It had a wide waist band that buttoned
and zippered up the back. There was also wide shoulder
straps that buttoned at the front, with decorative brass
buttons. I stepped into it, vowing to get even with my
uncle for making me wear such pretty things. The large
wide pleats flapped about my thighs, as I slid the
straps over my shoulders and buttoned up the waist. I
went back to see what I looked like in the virgin like
white clothes.

I was astounded. I could not believe it. No matter how
little makeup I was wearing, and I was wearing none at
all, I looked like a shapely pretty girl. The pleats
flared out from my hips, and the straps emphasised the
breasts that they covered. The flounce of lace that
poured out from under my chin looked so cute, and so
feminine. The hem of the skirt fell to about two inches
above my knees. The nylons and the heels I wore, made my
legs looked like the kind of legs I dreamed of having
wrapped around me.

My penis throbbed in excitement in my panties, and I was
thankful that the skirt flared out so that the bulge
could not be seen. I hated myself for being so turned
on, because I looked so foxy. The idea that I was really
a boy under the prettiness was strangely intoxicating to
me. I nearly sunk to my knees, in tears, as I wondered
how on earth I could so easily accept being a fag. I was
dressed like a sissy girl. I looked like a sissy girl.
My cock was telling me that I was really turned on by
being a sissy girl.

Did my parents know what I was doing at this minute? I’d
die of embarrassment if anyone ever found out about it.

It was time to set the tables right with that damn man
out there, who’d turned me into such a fag. How could he
have done it to me? How come I did not fight and scream
about it? It seemed to me, that I was just accepting
every lacy silky stitch that he was making me wear, and
worst of all, I had dressed myself up like this.

I got angry at myself for so easily accepting this
situation. I was not a fag. But, I felt myself moving in
the panties, as I went over to sit at the vanity, and I
could not deny that I had never ever been so turned on
in my life. It was as though every nerve ending in my
body was responding with excitement, as the girl clothes
touched them.

I brushed my hair. I put the brush down, and I looked at
the girl that I was seeing. I knew that with a touch of
makeup that I would look really smashing. Or, even if I
put on earrings?

I wanted to cry. My hands folded in my beskirted lap,
and I throbbed into the panties, against the weight of
my hands. I did not want to like being a girl… But I
did. I could not deny it. I could not deny that Uncle
Wally had not threatened to beat the shit out of me, if
I did not put on girl’s clothes. All he did was tell me
that he would lay out some clothes for me, and I had
willingly put them on myself.

I was a sissy.

Tears nearly blinded my eyes, and I realised that this
was the way I had always been. I had been such an ass
hole to my parents and to my friends, because I had
wanted to keep it a secret, that I was a weak little
scared sissy deep on the inside of me. I wondered how my
uncle had been able to see so deeply into me, when he
had not even seen me before.

I reached for a pink tissue, and dried my eyes. I felt a
sense, a very deep sense of submission to the girl me
that I now was. As I gave up the macho pseudo
personality that I had fought so hard to build for
myself, I felt a tremendous sense of relief. I no longer
would have to fight all the time. I would no longer have
to strain and struggle to keep myself so completely
under control, all so that no one would be able to
detect the sissy that was really under that hard shell
of an exterior.

I accepted the fact that I wanted to be a weak little
sissy girl, out of control of her emotions, subject to
the strong whims of any boy that came along, too weak
and afraid to live alone. I sobbed into the tissue, as
this sense of freedom washed over me in great waves. I
shuddered, as for the first time in my life, I let
myself cry like a sissy girl. I was nothing but a weak
little sissy girl now.

I could not even draw of the false strength of the false
boy personality that I had built. I knew only too well
that that personality was completely false now. I
remembered how often I had looked at boys, and remarked
to myself that I had to act that way, or to move my
hands in that fashion, because that was how boys acted.
My entire boyhood had been a big play act.

I was a sissy. How on earth was I ever going to learn
how to live with that truth, unless… Unless I could
somehow not live like a sissy, but hide it by living
like a girl? Is that what my uncle was doing to me? Was
he really going to give me this second chance? At least,
I realised, if I lived like a girl, wearing pretty
things, acting like a little miss prissy young lady,
that I would be acting a lot more like the real me than
that empty shell that I had thought was the real me.

Three

I dried my tears. I felt as though I had somehow become
cleansed on the inside. It was the first time in my life
that I had ever felt guiltless and innocent, and clean.
I liked the way it felt. I was only too aware that I
felt like this, because I was dressed like a pretty
girl.

I knew that I had to go out and face my uncle, and find
out what his plans were, and what his house rules were.
I knew only too well that I no longer had what it would
take, to live the life of a rebellious street urchin. I
did not want to. I was too weak to do that anymore. I
wanted to be protected. I wanted to be taken care of. I
wanted someone to love me enough, to take care of me and
my needs. I hoped that Uncle Wally would not laugh when
he found out what a sissy I really was, after all. I
hoped he would not hate me for turning out to be such a
fag.

The realisation that I was such a weakling, such a real
dyed in the wool sissy, who loved wearing such pretty
and feminine girl’s clothes, made me also realise that
it would take a great deal more courage to be who I
really was, than it ever took to be such a fake. I
wondered if I had what it would take.

I sat up suddenly and stared at my reflection, with a
look of horror on my face. If I let my uncle know that I
was really such a sissy fag, would he think that I was
completely a sissy fag? Would he think that I only liked
going out with boys, like the real girls liked doing?

Worse, perish the thought, would he think that I was a
sissy cock sucker who wanted boys to fuck her, like the
real girls were like? Worse even than that, was the
idea, that it might all be true. What if I did want to
go out with boys, and act like a real girl acts? What if
I liked being kissed by boys. What if I found out that I
liked sucking a boy’s cock? How could I live with myself
if I was really like that? How on earth could I make
the adjustment from being a fucker, to being the fuckee
in a relationship?

I have no idea of how long it took for all these
fantastic changes to course their way through my psyche,
but only too soon, I realised that I had to make my
appearance to my uncle, as the girl I had become in the
last few minutes of my life. All that I could hope for
was that he would not hate me for turning out to be such
an effeminated sissy.

I found, to my amazement, that I assumed feminine
mannerisms and gestures, as thought I had been born as a
girl, and had been schooled in how to comport myself. I
also realised that for all of my short little life, I
had always paid an unconscious attention to the way
girls had acted, and I had absorbed all these
observations. They had, by their own nature, suddenly
incorporated themselves into my new girl personality. I
was more of a girl than I had feared that I was.

I forced myself to stand up, once again admitting to
myself how I loved the sound that my linger made, a very
feminine sound that belonged to girls. I checked to make
sure that the painful bugle in the front of my skirt was
not too obvious, smoothed my skirt out around my hips
and bum, and steeled myself for the worst of rejections.
Then I strode, such as I could in high heels, over to
the door.

Before I could have a second thought about it, I turned
the knob and stepped out into the hall way. I refused to
let myself think about my revelations, as I made my way
through the house, searching for the uncle that had
effeminated me. I had to have the courage to be the real
me, for once in my life.

I finally found him, down stairs in the television room.
He was sprawled out on the couch, half asleep. When he
heard my heels clicking on the stairs, he sat up and
turned to face me. Once again, I was blessed with that
wolfish appreciation of my appearance that appeared on
my face.

I moved gracefully across the room, and seated myself in
an easy chair that faced him. I was only too aware that
I was acting like a girl, even to the point of smoothing
my skirt out as I sat, even keeping my back straight and
my hands folded together in my lap, so very prissy like.
I wanted to hate myself for letting him see me as such a
fairy, but I could not.

The revelations about the real me that I had seen only
moments before, had been to profound for me to ever try
to change them. I was a guy, who wanted to be a girl in
every way that I could be a girl. That was who I really
was. the girl’s clothes that I wore, freed the girl’s
personality that had lain dormant and suppressed for all
of these years deep inside of me. She was too elated at
finally being allowed out of her prison, to ever go back
without a serious fight.

“So, I see the real you is finally making herself known
to the world?” he was almost malicious in the glee that
I heard in his voice. He had won completely, and he knew
it. I had no choice, but to submit to the reality this
man had forced upon me.

“So it would seem. I… I never dreamed… You know what
I mean?” I heard a whiny girlishness in my voice that
had never been there before.

“I know exactly what you mean, honey buns. You are so
pretty, and so naturally girlish… You do not belong in
pants ever again, unless of course, they are silk
lounging pyjamas, like the elegant ladies wear, or
perhaps some very tight fitting Chic jeans, or perhaps
501’s for girls, you know the ones with the pretty
embroidery on the back pockets and those cute little
zippers at the ankles?”

I could hear the victorious revelling in his voice. But,
he was right… I knew that. I also knew that with this
man, I would always have to assume the submissive
feminine role from now on. That is who I was now. I
shrugged, as I realised that I may as well get used to
it, and start now. I knew that girls had always been
willing to swallow their pride to make the guys in their
lives feel superior. I guess that I would just have to
do the same from now on.

“I… I guess that you are right? Uhhh… How did you
know Uncle Wally? I mean, I did not even have any idea
about this, you know what I mean?”

“Ahhh… for the astute student of human nature, it was
not difficult. You were more blinded by your pseudo
masculinity than anyone else was. Your parents knew.
Let’s face it, honey. You should have been a girl. You
look like a girl, and you act like a girl, and I am sure
that you now realise that you mostly feel like a girl
to, and all it took was a few hours in girl’s clothes to
reveal who you really are. That masculine veneer that
you had, certainly was not very strong after all, if all
it took was a few hours in a girl’s pretty little
panties, to turn you into such a pretty girl, so
completely.”

“I… I don’t like being a sissy…”

“Sissy? Boys who act like girls are sissies. You are a
girl who was acting like a boy, in spite of what you
have in your pretty little panties. All you are doing is
acting real now. I want to help you in any way that I
can. If you want to really become a girl, I will help
you with that to. In the mean time, you will find a
large bottle of purple coloured pills in your medicine
chest. Those are girl’s hormone pills. I want you to
take two at a time, three times a day. Will you be a
good girl, and do that?”

I felt a flush of embarrassment and dead machismo flow
across my face. “Yes Uncle Wally.” Even though I was
being a submissive prissy by acting like this, I felt
kind of free in a strange way.

“Uhhh… What happens now?”

“Well, I’ll give you a couple of weeks to get used to
living here, and wearing pretty clothes all the time. I
will teach you how to keep house, and how to cook
passable well. By that time, you should be confident
enough of your girl self to start venturing out into the
real world. I gotta warn you though honey, you make a
very sexy young lady, and you really turn my crank for
me, so do not be too surprised if I walk up behind you
some day, and start kissing you, okay?”

“Kiss… Kissing me? Uhhh… What should I do if you do
that, Uncle Wally?”

“What does any girl do when a man kisses her, honey?”

“Uhhh… ” I blushed furiously. “Kiss him back?”

“You got it Babe. You have to do absolutely nothing
except to act like yourself. In other words, if you act
just like any other girl, then you will be doing the
right thing. In other words Sweet Stuff, just do what
you feel is right, because from where I sit, you is all
girl honey. You got it?”

“Yes Sir…”

**

The next few days flew by far faster than time had ever
passed for me before. I got used to the idea of spending
an hour or so every morning, dressing, doing my hair and
experimenting with makeup. I got used to wearing
delicate little heels on my shoes, and conducting myself
in an acceptable manner, while wearing above the knee
hems. I lost some weight. I learned that I loved doing
house work, even the doing of Uncle Wally’s laundry. It
made me feel somehow as though I was acting like a kind
of wife, when I would fold his dried under wear, and
take them into his bed room, to put away for him. I
ironed his clothes. I picked up after him, and I even
had to start making his bed for him in the mornings.

I settled into the life of a teen aged girl, far too
easily that I should have been able to do. But, by the
end of the first two weeks, I knew that I never wanted
to go back to being a boy. One thing that really turned
my crank though, was the way that I could make my uncle
react, when I flirted with him. I knew that if I did
that with one of the young bucks in the neighbourhood,
that I would be in serious trouble, but I loved the way
he would start to sweat, or even slightly tremble when I
would do something that was particularly feminine, like
accidentally on purpose forget about how short my skirt
was when I bent over in front of him.

I felt a strange power over my uncle, in my new found
girl hood, and it was really intoxicating. After the
initial couple of times, when he made me go to the malls
with him, and made me buy myself some sexy lingerie, or
made me try on some dresses in the girl’s clothing
stores, I was forced to admit to myself that I would
have to do something really stupid, to make anyone
suspect that I was a guy. I was just too much of a girl.

One night near the end of that first two weeks, we were
seated on the couch, watching television. He asked me
how I liked being a girl. I admitted to him that I
adored being a girl. I admitted that I loved being
pretty. I admitted that I loved acting in a “missy
prissy” way.

He smiled and told me that he was pretty sure that I
would have liked it. He also told me that he was
completely convinced that I was a real sissy, and that
the next step in my development, was to learn how to act
with boys. I was shocked. I had thought of it, of
course, but I had also tried to put the thoughts out of
my mind.

He saw the look on my face. He smiled.

“That settles it honey, I am certain now that you will
never be happy in a relationship, unless it is with a
boy, or more specifically, a man who knows how to treat
you.”

“Wha… What do you mean, Uncle Wally?”

Four

“I’ll not only tell you what I mean, I will show you
what I mean. Stand up, right there, in front of the
television. That’s a good girl.”

I did what he told me to. I was strangely shaking in
excitement. An erection started to grow in my panties
to. I was trembling in my submissive uncertainty.

I stood there, and I became very sensitive to what I was
wearing. I had on a pale mauve coloured slip, with a set
of matching panties, garter belt and a soft satin long
line bra, also part of the same lingerie set. I was
wearing nylons, as I had done for every day since I had
started my odyssey into girl hood.

For outer wear, I was wearing a pair of pink high heeled
shoes, with sling backs on them, a little bow at the
back of my ankles, and with three inch spike heels. I
was wearing a three piece suit that day, of which I only
had two pieces on. It was a soft pink skirt, jacket and
vest. I had removed the jacket to do the dishes, and had
left it hanging from the back of a kitchen chair.

The skirt was a short sassy pleated affair that fell two
about two inches above m knees. It had a high waist the
pulled in a most delightful fashion at my tummy. The
vest was sleeveless, and had five brass buttons up the
front. My blouse was sort of like a man’s shirt,
excepting for the lace trimming at the points of the
collar, the silk that had a floral design woven into to
it, and the lace ascot, which flowed out from under my
chin and covered some of the vest.

My uncle came over and stood in front of me, about one
foot away. I became aware that I had never stood so
close to a male before, especially one that was as big
as my uncle. Even on my high heels, I had to look up to
see into his clear eyes. He just stood there for a very
long minute, making me feel very shy and submissive.
After a few long moments, he spoke to me.

“Well Debi, do you feel like a real girl now?”

“Yes sir.”

“Do you like feeling like a girl?”

“Yes sir.”

“Do you know that this means that you are a sissy?”

“Yes sir.”

Sissies are not real men, are they, Debi?”

“No sir.”

“Because they are not real men, they should act like
girls when they are around real men, shouldn’t they,
Debi?”

“Yes sir.”

Then he took a step closer to me. My eyes focused on the
stubble on his chin. I could feel the heat of his body.
My cockette strained against the front of my panties.
His maleness excited me. I had never felt like this
before.

He reached out and gently took my elbows into his hands.
Slowly he raised my elbows. He raised them till he could
bring my hands together. When he did that, my forearms
were resting on his shoulders. I had nothing but my
girl clothes to protect the front of me from anything
that he might want to do to me. It made me feel so
vulnerable and weak, and girlish. My cockette strained
painfully against the silken prison it was in.

Then I felt his hands go down and settle on my waist. He
gently pulled me towards him. I had no choice. To keep
my balance, I took a half step forward. I felt his belly
on mine. I felt his cock press against my belly. He was
rigidly hard. I felt the pants legs material brush
against my delicate nylons. It was the closest I had
come to wearing pants in the last two weeks, and it made
me feel terribly unworthy of being considered as a male.
I was a girl now. He held me like that for a long time.
I was scared, and I shook. I hated that he could turn me
on like this, just by acting like a regular guy.

After a few more minutes, his hands moved from my hips,
to the small of my back, then ever so slowly, they moved
down over my bum cheeks. He made me feel so small, and
weak, vulnerable and feminine. I looked up into his
eyes.

His eyes looked down at me, and they were full of his
understanding of my effeminated nature.

“You are my sissy boy girl, aren’t you, Miss Debi?”

I wanted to scream out that I was a boy, and run away.
Instead, I blushed. “Yes sir.”

“Sissy boy girls like you are really sexy to me, Debi.
Do you get turned on by being so close to a real man,
honey?”

“Ye… Yes sir…” I was nearly whimpering. I could feel
my knees start to buckle, and I locked my fingers behind
the back of his neck for support. I was weak enough,
without having to look up at him from the floor. That
would be just too embarrassing.

“Do you want me to treat you the way that I treat other
women, honey?”

“Yes…” What was I saying? How come I could not say no?
How come I did want to be treated like a woman?

“I let girls suck my cock, and then I put my cock in
their pussies. Do you still want me to treat you like
any other woman, honey?”

I wanted to scream. I wanted to run away. He pulled me
tight against him, and all I could feel was his hard on.
My head was light. I felt so weak.

“Do you honey?”

“Yes sir…”

“So, if I told you to kneel down in front of me right at
this very minute, and to suck my cock, you would be girl
enough to do that for me?”

Guilt about being a by ripped through me, as I loved the
silky sensations of my girl clothes, and I luxuriated in
the sense of feminine submission that was washing
through my emotions. I looked up at him again, knowing
that my cheeks were far redder than any blush could make
them.

“Yes.”

I felt his strong big fingers tighten on my bum cheeks.
I felt him press his cock against my tummy.

“Prove it.”

What could I do. I knew that he wanted me to suck his
cock, like any other girl would. He knew the degree of
feminine humiliation that he was putting me through. I
hated being a boy. I hated myself for wanting to suck
his cock. I wished that life was simpler, and I did not
have these sex problems.

But I let my fingers unravel, and I felt his clothes
brush against me, as I weakly began to lower myself to
my knees. When I felt the carpet on my nylons, I opened
my eyes. His bulging crotch was right in front of me.
This had to be the ultimate humiliation. I loved the
sense of feminine submission that I felt as I watched my
pink tipped fingers reach up and take his zipper, to
pull it down. I watched as they reached into his pants,
and they gently extracted his erection from his pants.

He did not have a big cock, for which I was very
thankful. It was big enough to be pulsing in my hand
though. I felt the iron like hardness under the satiny
smooth skin. I could smell his man smell, so very unlike
any smell that came from my body lately.

I looked up, and I could see the superiority in his
eyes, as he looked down at his little sissy. He was a
man, and he knew it. I was not, and he wanted me to know
that to. “Suck my cock like a good sissy slut, Debi.
Suck it really hard to let me know how much you like
sucking my cock honey.”

I bent down and placed my lips on the cock head. I
wanted to just brush my lips over it, but I found myself
kissing it. I was kissing it out of my love for this
man, who was making a woman out of me. I wanted to
submit to his enforced effemination of me. If that meant
that I was a sissy, and a cock sucker, then so be it.

I opened my mouth and I felt the head of his cock slide
slowly over my sensitive lips, as I received a cock, as
a girl, for the very first time. I knew that I could
experience no greater humiliation. I was a totally
effeminated cock sucker, a fag. I did not want to be a
fag. I knew that, and yet I locked my lips around his
shaft, and I began to lick his cock. I knew that I was
trying to make it cum inside of my body, and receive a
man’s cum the way that women were designed to receive a
man’s cum.

Girlishness washed over me. I felt utterly effeminated.

Uncle Wally let me suck his cock like that for about
fifteen minutes. I moved my head back and forth slowly,
as I loving licked at the shaft. I knew that I was
trying to make it cum into me. This was how a girl did
it, and I was being allowed to be his girl. As I sucked
his cock, I knew that I was making love to this man who
knew my sissy soul so completely. I wanted to show him
my love and my gratitude, and so I sucked his cock with
love.

“Okay honey. I want you to stop sucking my cock now. You
are a lovely cock sucker, and some other time you can
suck the cum out of it, but not today. Today, you are
becoming a real girl, my sissy slut girl. You are my
boy toy in your girl’s panties and skirt. Today, I want
you to suck my cock, and make it ready for fucking your
virgin pussy.”

I pulled my head back, amazed that I was doing so
reluctantly. Yes, I was definitely a confirmed sissy
cock sucker now, I knew. I loved everything about being
allowed to by my uncle’s girl.

I planted a dainty little kiss on the head of his cock,
as I allowed it to be pulled out from between my lips. I
felt empty without it in me. Then, I stood up.

I knew that he could see how much that I had liked
sucking him. I knew that it was written all over my
face. Every time he looked at me from now on, I knew, he
would think of me as his sissy girlified cock sucker. I
had no more masculinity left to me, I knew.

This man had taken way my penis when he gave me skirts
and panties to wear. I stood up and looked up at him as
he smiled his superiority down at me. I placed my hands
on his shoulders, and I stood up on my tippy toes, and I
lightly kissed his lips. He knew that I was thanking him
for making me realise that I was an effeminated boy slut
who belonged in pretty knee length hems, and silkened
panties, like a real girl does.

He grasped my hips, and turned me so that my bum was
gently rubbing against his erection. I felt utterly
girlish. I knew that like any other girl in a similar
situation, my uncle was going to fuck me. I was a pretty
girl, and a sissy cock sucker. I deserved to be on the
receiving end of a rutting male’s sex drive. I was not a
boy any more.

I knew what he wanted. I pressed my upper back against
him, as I turned my head to receive his kisses. I felt
his lips all over my cheek, my lips and my neck. His
hands were tightly grasping my belly, and my breasts. I
reached down and I pulled the back of my skirt and my
slip up. Then I could feel the small but powerful hot
rod driving into the crack of my panties.

“Man of man… You are turning into one hot little vixen
bitch, aren’t you?”

For an answer, I opened my lips, and I grasped his
tongue, and sucked it deeply into my mouth. I felt his
one hand go down, and lower the back of my panties. I
felt his erection between my bum cheeks. I was glad that
he was small, and I knew that he was going to use it
like a man uses it with a woman.

I melted inside. I was that woman that his cock was
going to fuck tonight. I wriggled a bit, so as to help
embed his cock in the crack, where it should be. I felt
his one hand squeezing my breasts and his other hand
went down between us, and moved his cock so that it was
pointed right at my hole.

I was utterly aware of the female clothing that I was
wearing. I was the femme of this couple. He wore the
pants, and it was I who wore the panties. He was the
man, and I was his complimenting woman.

“You sissy slut. You are a vixen. You have been teasing
me with your sexy bare thighs and your pretty little
pantied bum for the last few days, and now you are going
to pay the price that all sissy sluts pay. I hope that
you like being a girl Debi, because girls get fucked,
and so are you.”

With that, he rammed me. I felt a sharp pain as his cock
head passed my sphincter, and then a tight feeling, as I
suddenly realised that like any other girl, I had a man
inside of my body. I marvelled. It was not just the cock
that had entered me. I felt as though Uncle Wally had
entered into my feminine personality, and that he was
staking his claim as the owner of my feminine soul. He
was not just fucking my body, he was taking over me, all
of me.

I moaned as the feeling of utter and complete submission
to this loving manly person. I felt his cock as it
slowly inched it’s way, all the way into me. His tongue
was in my mouth. His hand grasped my breasts. His other
hand descended to grasp and grind the intimate girl
material of my panties into my cockette. I was impaled
on his cock.

I was utterly helpless to him. He could do what he
wanted to me, and I had to accept it. I moaned out my
realisation of my utter effemination, and I could not
deny that this was the most completing feeling that I
had ever had. I was the girl object of a man’s love, and
it was who I wanted to be.

I sucked on his tongue with the same loving that I had
sucked on his cock. His hand ground the panty material
into me. His cock withdrew and slammed back into me. If
he had not been holding me so tightly, I would have
fallen on the floor. I was becoming his possession, and
I felt so completely loved.

He slowly helped me sink to my knees, and then I heard
him tell me to kneel doggy style, so that he could fuck
me better. Oh, I wanted him to fuck me better. I wanted
him to fuck me all that he wanted to fuck me. I wanted
this man to cum in me, like he cums in girls. I wanted
to be his girl.

I felt his hand slap my bum cheeks.

“Oh, daddy… Oh uncle… Ohhh… Yesss… Fuck me and
make a woman out of me. I want to be your fuckee. I want
you to fuck me whenever you want to get laid, Ohhh…”

“You fucking slut, you are just like every other sissy
slut who gets her man to take possession of her, you
can’t stop. You will be my sissy slut boy girl sex slave
forever now, won’t you, Debi?”

“Yes daddy… Anything you say, just don’t make me ever
be a boy again. This… I love this… Make love to me.
Make me be your woman… Cum in me daddy…”

“I am going to fuck this tight little pussy of yours
Debi, and I am going to give you my baby juice, just
like any girl gets it from the man who fucks her. You
are my woman, my sexy vixen woman…”

“Yes… I… I want to be your sexy woman. Give me your
baby juice.

Give me your cum daddy… Make me be your girl slut…”

He then drove himself deep into me. I felt his cock grow
and he began to let loose his cum deep into my girlified
self, and I felt like I was a woman loved by a man. I
shrieked as his orgasm made me cum into his hand,
through my panties. I shuddered, writhing, out of
control… I was his effeminated woman.

He fucked me till he started to grow soft. Then he let
go of the front of my panties. I felt utterly complete
and fulfilled as I felt his cock pull slowly out of me.
I stay there, weak, unable to move, on my hands and
knees. I felt him pull the back of my panties up to
cover my bum cheeks, and I felt him lower my skirt and
slip to cover up my panties.

I was to emotionally drained to move. I was sore, and
yet I felt ever so loved. I felt like a sexy love
object. I felt like I’d been a woman receptacle for a
man. I felt completely feminine.

I sank to my belly on the floor, and ever so slowly, I
rolled over onto my back. Uncle Wally was standing
there, looking down at me.

“Damn, you are the sexiest girl I have ever fucked. I
put you on notice Debi. Consider yourself to my by sissy
slut from now on. I will fuck you whenever the mood
takes me, and you will suck my cock whenever I tell you
to. What do you think about that?”

“Okay…” I could not stop the beatific smile that I
knew was on my face. If that was the way he wanted me to
be, that was fine with me. If he could make me feel
like this by fucking me, and letting me suck his cock,
the I wanted to suck his cock and get fucked ten times a
day. I felt like a loved woman, and I knew there was no
other feeling to compare to that.

I thought that there was no other feeling like that. I
was wrong.

**

Two weeks late, Uncle Wally came home one day with a
wedding dress for me. He told me that I was going to
marry him the following Saturday. He told me that I
could expect to spend half the honeymoon with my pussy
filled with his cock.

I smiled. “Okay.”

My uncle had saved my soul, by making me become his boy
wife. I love him, and I felt wonderful as I heard the
words pass my lips, “I will love you, and honour you,
and obey you, till death do us part.”

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