Michael slammed the car door behind him, half hoping to cause some damage, and walked off, towards his front door. All he wanted to do was get out of the dress he was wearing, and into some decent clothes. Behind him, Reba called out, "Goodbye, sweetie." After a short argument between his conscience and his desire to get away from everything. Michael turned around, faked a smile, and waved back at her.

Realising that he didn't have the key to the front door, Michael knocked urgently on the door, and waited for a response. With a honk, he heard Reba drive off behind him. Glancing around to check that there was no one around, he waited impatiently for Mrs P to open the door. Just as he thought he saw Danielle, the door opened, and he darted through.

Leaning back on the hallway wall, with his eyes closed, and breathing deeply, he heard Mrs P close the door. "How was your day, Michael?" she asked. Michael almost burst out laughing at the triteness of the question.

"Oh god," he replied. "If I never have another day like this, it'll be a day too soon."

"Go on into the sitting room, and take the weight off your feet. I'll get us some tea, and we can talk about it." As Mrs P. walked off to the kitchen, Michael noticed that she had changed out of the dress that she had been wearing earlier, and was now wearing a grey skirt suit and a white blouse with a frilly collar that had Michael thinking of Mary Poppins.

Once in the sitting room, Michael sat down and waited. Rather than his normal way of just dropping into the nearest chair, he found himself unconsciously sweeping his skirts out of the way as he sat down, and sitting erect in the chair.

After a few minutes, Mrs P came in carrying a tray, on which was a full tea set, and a selection of dainty cakes. Normally, tea would be served in a couple of large mugs, with the tea bags taken out, just before serving, but this time, Mr P had brought out the full, delicate, china tea service, including the little tongs for the sugar lumps.

Mrs P chattered idly while she poured two cups of the delicate Earl Grey tea, and cut slices of cake. When she had served them both, she sat down, and said "Now tell me everything that happened."

Michael delayed the start of his tale by taking a sip of his tea, and nibbling at his cake, but he was not able to extend these to take up much time. Reluctantly he began to talk, starting with his terrifying car journey with Reba. His segue into his ballet lesson was less reluctant, and by the time he had completed that portion of his tale, his enthusiasm was visible.

Michael quietened down as he started talking about his beauty session, carefully avoiding all mention of certain sections of it. Mrs P commented upon his new hairstyle and makeup, saying that it suited him, and it looked a lot better than his previous style.

Trying to avoid further comments, Michael hurried onto his deportment lessons, and his trip home.

"It sounds like you had a wonderful time today," said Mrs P. "It's been so long since I had as fun a time." Michael gave her a pained look. Laughing quietly, Mrs P added, "at least you now know the sort of thing that women go through when getting themselves ready. You'll have no excuse to complain when you are made to wait."

"Possibly," Michael said, "but I don't think it's a lesson that I really wanted to learn."

"Once you have completed your tea, we can continue with your little adventure."

"More dressing up? How much more is there for me to do?"

"The list they left does continue until sometime tomorrow, but the rest of today should be nice and relaxing."

"Do I have to change? I'm getting so fed up with this."

"You could stop if you want to, but I wouldn't like to say what Lady DeMorgan's response would be." Michaels only response was to sigh, and stand up. "While I go and get the things I need, you can change out of that dress. You might as well remove everything that you have on underneath as well."

Michael found that getting undressed was not as easy as it seemed. For the first time in his life, he had to fight with a zip that ran down the back of a dress, and it seemed that the zip was winning. Eventually it submitted and he was able to let the dress drop and step out of it. The shoes and tights were less of a problem, and Michael was wondering if he should remove his panties, when Mrs P. came back into the room.

"Everything, I said," she said, "including panties." Reluctantly he removed them, and turned to face Mrs P with his hands covering his testicles. Under one arm, Mrs P had what looked like a rolled up mat, while her other hand held a basket. She dropped the mat on the table, where it unrolled itself to reveal the teddy bears and dolls printed on the plastic that covered it.

"So what am I going to be wearing this time?" asked Michael.

Putting the basket down on the table, beside the mat, Mrs P reached into it, and pulled out a bright yellow dress. Holding it out for him to see, she said, "Tonight Michael, you are going to be a sissy baby." The dress was clearly a little girls dress, in a bright yellow. It had a peter-pan collar, and short, capped sleeves. The skirt was short, far too short for Michaels taste, and flared out due to several layers of attached petticoats. On the front of the bodice was embroidered a little pull along ducky toy. "If you will jump up onto the changing mat, we can get you ready for the evening."

Michael contemplated the dress, and all the other things that seemed likely to accompany it. It didn't seem much worse than the Sailor Sissy, and at least this would be in private. As a precaution, Michael asked, "You're not expecting anyone tonight, are you? And I'm not going to have to go out wearing this am I?"

"Don't worry, it's just you and me tonight." Reassured, Michael sat on the mat, and in response to Mrs P's hand on his shoulder, he lay down on his back. He was rather disturbed to see Mrs P pull on a pair of latex gloves, and when she started briskly washing his testicles and penis, he gave out a shocked cry. "Shush," she said, "all sissy babies need to be properly clean." Despite this reassurance, he nearly jumped up and ran off when she lifted his legs, and started cleaning between his buttocks.

Ignoring his reaction, Mrs P started to talk. "There are a number of rules for being a sissy baby. Given the way sissies think, they are very simple rules. Unless necessary, sissy babies don't talk, they babble incomprehensibly. If they do need to talk, they speak like a sweet little girl, with a cute lisp. Do you understand?"

Without any conscious thought, Michael replied, "Yeth, Mrs P."

"There's a good little sissy." While she had been talking, Mrs P had pulled a square of terry towelling from the basket, dexterously folded it into a triangle, and slid it under his buttocks. As Michael thought about his new lisp, she pulled the nappy into position, and fastened it with nappy pins.

"Also, sissy babies don't walk, they crawl everywhere." Barely getting and resistance from Michael, she slid a pair of plastic pants up his legs, and over the nappy. They crackled noisily as she did so. "There, that should prevent any naughty accidents." Seemingly find the plastic too plain, she covered it with a pair of white cotton panties, covered all over in golden yellow ribbons.

Sitting him up, she held the dress up in front of him, and said, "Just slip this on, and we'll be almost done." Michael wasn't paying much attention to Mrs P, he was concentrating more of the feel of the nappy. The feel was like nothing he had ever worn, and as he moved, the plastic made more crackling sounds. He also realised that there was so much bulk in the nappy between his legs that he was not going to be able to close them. At best, he would be able to waddle, and at worst, the crawl would be,... No, his mind ran away from that thought.

When his mind came back, he was wearing the dress, and Mrs P had just finished putting some cute lace ankle socks and flat shoes on his feet.

"That dress is just the perfect thing for you. I'll just add the final accessories, and then you can get down and play." With a brush and comb, Mrs P made some adjustments to his hair, and popped a bonnet on his head, tying the ribbons in a big bow, just under his chin.

"The very, very final touch is a pair of gloves. Gloves are quite de-rigueur for a sissy baby." The gloves were white wrist length lace, with a frill around the wrists that matched the frills on his ankle socks. "There, everything's done, and you look just ... perfect." There was a lot of emotion in the last word, but Michael couldn't figure what it was.

"Wait here, and I'll get the mirror so you can see what you look like." While Mrs P was away, Michael tried to think about his situation again, but the feeling from his new clothes distracted him. The ribbon holding the bonnet felt odd, as it ran over his face, and the bow tickled slightly. The elastics in the end of the short sleeves and the high waist scratched slightly as he moved, breathing. The nappy was the oddest thing. He knew he was sitting on a hard table, but he could not feel that, only the thick layer of padding and something solid between his legs. As an experiment, he tried to close his legs. He actually managed to do this quite easily, but whatever it was, it exerted a constant outward force, and when he stopped trying to close his legs, the pressures forced them open.

Just as his landlady came back, with a large mirror, Michael realised that there was something odd about the gloves. While the gloves had fingers, they were all joined together, effectively converting the gloves into something like mittens with thumbs, and rendering his hands almost useless.

Michael was about to follow this thought further when Mrs P held the mirror up in front of him and said, "Look at you, such a doll!" As had become depressingly common, there was no sign of Michael in the mirror. This time, all he could see was a little girl. OK, a rather big little girl, but apart from that, there was nothing that suggested he was looking at anything other than a little girl, dressed up for a fancy occasion.

The golden bonnet she wore outlined her face, like a halo, with two little curls of hair running down the sides. [[More description here - short sleeves, skirt, just covering nappy, legs spread inelegantly]]. The only thing disrupting the perfect picture was the rather grumpy look on her face.

"... grumpy doll, but I know how to fix that." Michael realised that he had been looking at the mirror with such concentration, that he had not been listening to Mrs P. In her hand, Mrs P held a babies dummy, and she was waving it in front of his face. "Sissy babies love their binkies. All their troubles just float away when they are sucking on their binkies." Suddenly Michael had an almost overwhelming desire, no a need, for the binky. He reached out for it, just as Mrs P pulled it away. "No! Naughty baby. What do sissy babies say when they want something?"

He had no choice, he needed the binky. "Pleath, Mrs P, may I hath my binky?" he lisped childishly.

"Of course, you may," his landlady replied, and popped the binky into his open mouth. As he closed his mouth around the binkies teat, Michael felt a wave of contentment sweep over him, as all his worries floated away. "There," said Mrs P, "I told you the binky would make you happy."

"Jump down, off the table, I've got excellent toys for you to play with." As Michael got down, his knees collapsed under him. If Mrs P hadn't caught him, he would almost certainly have hurt himself. As it was, he ended up on the floor on his hands and knees. "Did you forget that baby sissies can't walk? I'm sure you'll remember now," said Mrs P in a slightly sarcastic tone.

The toys were in a pile, the other side of the room, and Michael had to slowly crawl his way over, the bulk of his nappy forcing him to keep his legs well apart. Mrs P watched, fascinated. She loved the way his gait forced his buttocks to move, and that the short dress failed to cover anything but the smallest portion of his panties

The toys that Michael was to play with were all the sort that a little girl would love to play with, a mixture of horses and magical unicorns, dress up dolls and a large make-up head, with a huge selection of makeup to play with. It took him a few moments to realise it, but he noticed that the dolls and makeup head were perfect replicas of Michael, and the dolls were all dressed in the various costumes he had worn today, including his current one.

Accompanying the makeup head was "My Makeup Book", and Michael idly flipped through this. Each page consisted of a single look, with a description of the look, and where it would be worn, along with instructions and diagrams. Michael did not find it worrying, because he had his binky, but he knew he would late, that every look was accompanied by several photos of Michael wearing the look. Every photo was unique and individual, as if Michael had actually sat for the photo, but that was obviously impossible.

Trying to look like he was engrossed in playing with the toys, Michael thought hard about what had happened today. It was obvious that he had been setup from the start, and he was on a wild goose chase, but why? What did they want from him? Would this end tomorrow when he met Lady DeMorgan, or was there a longer term goal in mind? If so, what was it?

Even if they were just playing, and ended it tomorrow, there would still be consequences. Mrs P was obviously enjoying having a sissy again, and the chances of her forgetting this was minimal, so it was inevitable that she would try to get him to dress up again.

And then there was Danielle and Bethany. Danielle appeared to be interested in him being a sissy for totally different reasons, and how would Bethany react to the sudden loss of a new friend?

He had a feeling that those three ladies were not going to let him get away that easily.

Come to think of it, did he want to get away? The day had been nearly terminally embarrassing, and not the sort of thing that he had ever thought about doing, but the ballet had been an interesting challenge, and he wanted to learn more, and both Danielle and Bethany were people he'd like to get to know further.

Further thoughts were interrupted by Mrs P coming back in, and he started paying more attention to what he was doing with the dolls. It appeared that Ballet Michael and Wedding Dress Michael were about to take down Super Sailor Sissy Michael with an epic bitch fest about her taste in clothes and boyfriends, though her riposte that at least she had a boyfriend was going to leave a few scars. And what was this thing with wedding dresses? It wasn't as though there was going to be a marriage in the near future. Never even a bridesmaid, let alone a bride.

Mrs P sat down on the sofa, saying "It's nice to take a rest after a hard day." Michael doubted that her day had been as hard as his. OK, she was also having a bad day, but he doubted that it had been as hard as his ballet and deportment lessons.

"Why don't you come over here, and sit with me. I've managed to get a copy of one of the classic sissy programs, and I'm sure you'd love to see it." Michael slowly crawled over to the sofa, and climbed up. His attempts to sit up failed repeatedly, with him falling sideways, like a baby that had not yet learnt the trick. "Don't bother trying to sit up," said Mrs P, "just rest your head in my lap." After removing his bonnet, she helped him adjust his position. "Michael, before I start the program, can I ask you a favour? It's been ages since I've had a sissy around, and despite you having been forced into this, I would have to admit to enjoying it. As a favour, to complete things, could you, while dressed as a sissy, could you call me 'Nanny', and could I call you Michelle? Please?" Michael was surprised to hear pleading in her voice. He turned his head to look at her, and she appeared to be very serious about this.

Michael thought about the request. It wasn't a large request, and others had been calling him Michelle, but he had the feeling that despite the condition in the request , he would be a sissy again after things ended tomorrow. With a pop, he pulled the binky out from his mouth and lisped, "Yeth, Nanny."

Mrs P, or maybe he think of her now as Nanny, leaned over, and kissed him on the cheek, whispering "Thank you." As she leaned back, she started the television going. "Super Sailor Sissy is quite an old show, and I'm not sure that many of today's sissies have ever seen it, but I think that it is still worth watching."

From the way that the girls had talked about the show, Michael had gained the impression that it would be the standard "power of friendship" type show. As he watched it, he was forced to revise that impression. It actually appeared to be about the power of friendship, fashion, shopping and orgasms. And what the tentacle monster did with his tentacles was something he had never seen on a cartoon before.

As the cartoon ended, they both sat there, thinking. "Maybe I'm getting a bit forgetful in my old age, but I don't remember there being so much shopping there. Then again, I was probably concentrating on something else," said Mrs P. Michael was also thinking about the something else, and the comments that the girls had made about his costume. Only now was he beginning to understand some of the teasing.

A loud rumbling sound coming from Michael's stomach drew attention to the lateness of the hour. "Good grief, is it that late?" said Mrs P. "And I bet you haven't eaten properly since breakfast." Considering that all he had eaten was the small picnic, Michael had no compunction in pulling his dummy out, and saying "Yeth, nanny."

Nanny lifted Michaels head off of her lap, and stood up. "I shall go and prepare dinner, and you can join me in the dining room, if you can make it in time." Michael started crawling towards the dining room, but the nappy forced him to go slow, and a couple of time he went too fast, and collapsed face down on the floor. He had made it halfway to the door, when Nanny reappeared. "Oh dear, you're so slow, that it'll be time for bed before you get there. Fortunately, I have just the thing." From behind the door, she pulled what looked like a wooden horse on a trolley of some sort. "Walky horse is just the thing for a sissy baby that is just learning to walk. You can either ride her into the dining room, or she can provide you with the support you need to walk there."

Michael used the horse to pull himself up onto his feet, and wondered whether to ride or walk. The horse had a well-worn , comfortable looking, leather saddle for him to sit on, and reins for him to pull on. He was about to sit on the saddle when he noticed that the stirrups had been replaced by thigh and ankle cuffs, and the reins had wrist cuffs. He had a horrible feeling that if he did sit down Nanny would insist on strapping him in place, just for safety reasons, of course.

Michael took hold of the handle at the back of the horse, pointed it towards the dining room, and started trying to walk. The effects of the bulging nappy, and the conflicting orders as to whether or not he could walk resulted in him going slowly, in a very awkward walk, but it was noticeably faster than the crawl.

Michael was not surprised to see that his chair in the dining room had been replaced by an oversized baby's chair. Without prompting, he guided the walky horse over to it, and climbed up. The moment he sat down, he lost control of his balance again, and would have fallen out of the chair is nanny had not caught him and strapped him into the chair. "Naughty baby," said nanny, "you should have waited until I helped you into your chair. Still, no harm done, and you can wait there, while I prepare dinner."

Just as Mrs P started towards the kitchen, the doorbell rang. "Who could that be? I'm not expecting anyone.", said Mrs P, changing direction towards the front door.

"Hello Mrs. P, I hope we're not disturbing you." It was Danielle. Michael nearly panicked, but then realised that there was no way that Mrs P would let her into the house.

"Oh, no problem, I was just starting dinner. Would you like to come in?" Michael tried to free himself from the straps holding him in the chair, but with his hands stuck in the gloves, there was nothing he could do. Danielle and Bethany appeared at the door, and he froze.

"Hello Michelle," said Bethany. "I like your dress. I used to have one like that, but I grew too old for it."

'Oh, great,' thought Michael, 'My dress is too young even for Bethany.' "How was school, Bethany?" Michael asked, hoping to distract her from that train of thought.

"No one can come to my birthday party. They're all going to Mary-Jane's, and she doesn't like me, so I can't go to hers."

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry to hear that."

"Have you had time to think about coming? It could be just you, me and mum!"

Michael had a horrible feeling that he wasn't going to be able to get out of this, but maybe the party was at a time when he could genuinely be busy. "When's your party."

Danielle responded, "We had been planning on Sunday, but since it's only the three of us, we can have it at any time you find convenient." From her smile, it was obvious that she knew what Michael had been thinking. and she had no intention of letting him escape.

Michael gracefully accepted the inevitable. "Sunday's fine for me. I'm already looking forward to it."

"Yay!!!" said Bethany, "we can watch My Little Pony, and paint our nails, and eat cake and do each other's makeup and, ..."

Danielle interrupted her at this point, saying "Shush, no need to go on. I'm sure you want there to be a few surprises for Michelle." Given what Bethany already had planned, Michael shuddered to think what else could be happening.

Anything else that Bethany might have thought of saying was rendered a moot point, by Nanny calling out from the kitchen, "Bethany, if you want, we can have a quick look to what sort of a cake you want for your party." Bethany quickly disappeared into the kitchen leaving Michael alone with Danielle. From his position in the high chair, she towered over him, making him feel very nervous.

"I was expecting you to change when you got home, but I didn't think that you would be changing into something like this. What happened?"

"After I got home, I ... managed to get the wand to let me go, but while I was recovering Nanny came in, and caught me. When she was young, she used to mentor sissies, and I reminded her of this, and she happened to have some of her old stuff lying around, and she can be very persuasive, especially given the state I was in, and here I am," Michael hurriedly said. From the look on her face, Michael had the feeling that Danielle wasn't buying it.

"I really like the dress," said Danielle, leaning in, and running her hand over the fabric, causing Michaels skin to shiver as the hand moved. "I used to dress Bethany like that, until she insisted she was too old for so babyish a style."

Danielle leaned in closer. and Michael could feel her sweet breath on his face as she continued, "You should wear something like thing more often, it really suits you." Michael flushed red as he felt a complicated mixture of embarrassment, pride, humiliations and desire wash over him. Slowly, hesitantly, she leant on closer, and gently kissed him on the lips, so gently that Michael could barely feel their pressure. After a brief second, she pulled back and they stared into each other's eyes, confusion evident on both faces.

Michael got the feeling that something went click in Danielle's mind, and when she lent in again, she was less hesitant. this time the kiss wasn't gentle, it was more of a ravaging of his mouth as one hand held his head still, while her lips forced his open, and her tongue invaded his mouth.

Michael quickly lost all track of time, and when she released him, he was dazed and confused and unable to think of anything to say. "I ... I ..." was all that Danielle was able to say. A loud clattering from the kitchen provided an excuse. "I'd better see how Bethany is. She's probably talked Mrs P into something monstrous for a cake."

Michael watched her hurry into the kitchen, wondering what the kiss meant, and what consequences this would have on Sunday.

In the kitchen, Mrs P had to restrain a smile as Danielle came hurrying in, obvious trying to escape from something. "Are you OK?" she asked.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," blustered Danielle.

"Good," said Mrs P. "I was hoping that you wouldn't be upset by the little game that I'm playing with Michelle. She was so sweet when she came home, that I couldn't resist it."

"Yes, she is very ... sweet," replied Danielle, clearly confused with the situation.

"Well, anyway, I think we have Bethany's cake sorted out for her party. What time do you want me to send Michelle over?"

"I think, if we make late-ish afternoon, with any luck Bethany will tire herself out, and Michelle won't have to spend .."

"I'm a big girl now," interrupted Bethany, "I can stay up all day."

"I wouldn't worry," said Mrs P, "I'm sure Michelle will have a great time, no matter how long Bethany stays awake, and there's no need to send her home early. She'll have work on Monday, but apart from that, she's all your." Danielle looked at Mrs P, wondering precisely what she meant by that, but her face was bland, and gave away no clues.

Deciding that she did not want to go any further at the moment, Danielle responded, ""I think it's probably time that we went home."

As she left, saying "See you on Sunday, Michelle," Michael tried to work out what she was thinking, but he could not. From Bethany's enthusiastic bye's, he knew that she was definitely looking forward to the party.

After a few moments, with a cry of "supper," Mrs P appeared at the kitchen door, carrying a tray on which was, he supposed, supper. When she put it down on the table, he could see that it was an example of contrasts. One half held a plate with a chicken salad, and a large glass of red wine. The other half had a large babies bottle full of a pink liquid, with a feeder nipple, and a bowl of what looked like jelly.

"Noooo, nanny, not a bottle!"

"Sissy babies always have a bottle. You'll find it quite delicious, and it's the perfect food for sissies." Before he could reply, she had picked the bottle up, and placed the nipple into his mouth. Automatically, his mouth closed around it, and he started to suck at it.

Michael expected the contents of the bottle to be something horrible or bland, but was quite surprised at how it actually tasted. It reminded him of a milk shake, possibly a strawberry flavoured one. After a few minutes of his suckling at the nipple, nanny wrapped his gloved hands around the bottle, and sat down to her own dinner.

"When I was young, and trained sissies, before I married Georgio, and moved to Italy, unless they were exceptionally well behaved, baby sissies would always be fed from the bottle. Depending on how well they behaved, the contents would vary from delicious, with famous chefs writing some of the recipes, to merely bland, to something quite disgusting. For some reason, broccoli seemed to be particularly disliked. Naturally, if they didn't finish, they were spanked until they did."

Hearing this, Michael looked down at the bottle, and was relieved to see that it looked like he would be finishing it shortly.

"Of course, in a more, intimate, relationship, the baby would often be breastfed." An image of Danielle flashed across Michaels mind, making him flush and duck his head.

With a sigh, and an unexpected, rather loud burp, Michael finished the bottle, and put it down on the tray attached to the chair. "Does Sissy Michelle need burping?", asked Nanny, with a smile

"No Nanny, Michelle will be fine," Michael replied. Carefully, but quietly, letting out another burp, Michael looked at the rest of his dinner, a rather wobbly jelly. This in combination with the fingerless nature of his gloves and a specially designed spoon meant that Michael was unable to eat without spreading half of the jelly all over his face.

"Here, let me do that," said Nanny, taking the spoon out of his hand and slowly feeding him the jelly. Even with her best efforts, more of the jelly got spread over Michaels face. "My, you are a messy sissy." Michael had a suspicions that half the mess was being deliberately caused by Nanny, but he felt that it would not be a good idea to suggest that.

When pudding had been finished, Nanny tidied up, and took all the plates out to the kitchen. As she came back in, she caught Michael restraining a massive yawn "I think that it is time for little sissies to be in bed." Michael tried to deny this but another yawn interrupted him, before he could do little but open his mouth. "You've had a very busy day and you will need all the beauty sleep you can get, as tomorrow looks like it will be another busy day."

Nanny remove the tray from the front of the baby chair, and helped him down, straight onto the saddle of the walky horse. Michael looked suspiciously at the restraints, but Nanny appeared to ignore them, and just started pushing it towards the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, Michael looked up at Nanny, and realised that she wasn't going to help him up, and there was no way he was going to be able to walk up them. From his current position of sitting on a little wooden horse, the climb up the stairs looked extremely steep, and a long slow crawl. half climbing, half falling off the horse, Michael prepared for the ascent.

As he crawled up the stairs, he heard Nanny say "there's a good girl", and he found himself smiling at the praise. Once he reached that top of the stairs, Michael looked at the long crawl to his room at the far end of the corridor, but Nanny lifted him up to his feet, and holding his hands to provide the now essential support, walked him towards his room.