Training Stories

"Teresa is fed up flat-sharing with messy boys, but there aren't any decent girls around either. What surprising solution can there be?"


Intro - The SisterDom is a group of wonderful women who know that it is important to help their men to access and, when they are comfortable with the concept, to release their inner girlhood. These women are willing to train and transition their new-girls using a variety of simple techniques, sometimes with a touch of ‘domination’ and strong encouragement. Characters overlap between the stories.

I found myself sitting next to Teresa. She was a dainty little brunette with a really tight waist. It was so crowded that she was sitting almost in my lap, but fortunately there was a bright light behind me so she couldn't see me very well. She had come with her real sister Sally and they had brought their two flatmates. It turned out this was a regular event and indeed that they had made quite a speciality out of encouraging their flatmates into the SisterDom.

"Well, Jezebelle, its so nice to meet you and I'd love to tell you about our recent work. Sally and I have just finished our university courses. We have spent four years in the groves of Academe, and now we are out in the real world. Sally studied Psychology while I did English. So we were working hard both at Uni as well as at home, if you know what I mean. Of course you do, otherwise Anne wouldn't have asked us to teach you both about our training skills. Joanne and Elizabeth are two of our newest sisters, you know, 'graduates' from our training. Have you worked out who is going to be your first target for training."

I sat as quiet and still as I could. Did I get the impression that she didn't realize that I too was a graduate, albeit of Angela's tuition.

"This lovely hobby of ours began at university when Antony joined the flat. We had a flat behind the Town Hall and could only get boys to share. We were getting fed up with their mess and so on. Eventually, when yet another mucky failure had left and the interviews had found no new girl, we sat talking and drinking with Antony, the newest recruit. And we were really sozzled - just like the average student. So we were trying to solve the problems of the world and our flat-cleaning problems too. It just so happens we have found a delightfully feminine hobby and it gives us wonderful material for our Social Studies and Psychology work.

Antony had made the crucial suggestion. "I'm a bloke, I don't mean to be messy - how about you make some rules and we pay a fine if we misbehave."

Sally was so pissed, she said, "Don't like fines, never have any money. Got to have some sort of penalty though."

"I don't care too much. I wanted this flat to be girls-only, but I'm too relaxed to bother now."

We laughed about the possible forfeits - Antony was keen on the money as the most student-sensitive method. But he also suggested, almost as a throwaway line, that the important bit was getting the jobs done. If the ironing was piling up, then whoever was 'baddest' had to do it and so on.

The idea had seemed appropriate so the new regime had begun. At first the pleasure of keeping the flat nice had been enough but they had all slipped up. Antony had done his share of the cleaning and so on - his proper share of all the important jobs. If anything, Antony had done more than his share of the washing and ironing. Sally had commented on this one time, but he had smiled and said he didn't mind.

Sally had been almost as bad as Antony. Her most preferred job was shopping so she had to do that every day for a month. Sometimes the jobs were allocated by what the victim did best, sometimes by what they hated most.

Then one day, Teresa had come in unexpectedly from a lecture and through the open bedroom door seen their apparently asexual lodger stepping into a pair of panties. She had flipped. "What the hell's going on here. I knew we made it clear that you weren't going to bring girls round here without checking and you definitely weren't to try anything with us - but stealing our panties. That's horrible. You can pack up and leave tonight."

"Excuse me. Stop being so outraged, these aren't yours or Sally's. As if I would be so stupid as to steal your things, for a start they wouldn't fit me. So please leave my bedroom while I finish getting dressed."

Teresa said she couldn't believe it. If they weren't her panties then whose were they. After a few minutes, she knocked and said, "I'm sorry I flew off the handle, but I need to know what's going on. Can I come in."

Antony was very calm about it. "I been having to iron your panties and things for so long. I've noticed that they're so much smoother and more colourful than my old things. I certainly wasn't going to dare to try them on, so I decided it would be interesting to get a pair for myself. I've been wearing them for several weeks now. In fact, I actually prefer them. So, they're not yours and you've been jumping to conclusions. You can't ask me to leave the flat for borrowing your panties, so let's forget it."

"Well, my flatmate in panties, I may be wrong in accusing you of borrowing them - but there is certainly a problem we've got to sort out. Do you really expect Sally and me to be happy with a flatmate who wears panties instead of pants?"

"Why not. If you take a sensible look at the facts. You wanted a girl in the flat and you got me. Now if I want to wear panties rather than rough pants, this should make you happier. Obviously being around two very attractive, friendly, considerate fellow students has affected me so much that I want to be like them, not just sharing their flat but sharing their whole world."

"What are you saying? That you want to wear more than just panties?"

"I don't really know. I'm as surprised as you at some of the things I've just said. But if they weren't in my head, I wouldn't have been able to say them would I. Somehow, saying it out loud makes it more real, makes it feel as if the whole concept has crystallised. So, yes, I suppose I do. I want to know what it feels like to wear soft satins, like that pretty blue blouse of yours, what it feels like with stockings in the fresh air. I like this flat too much and I know that you would be happier with it being a girls-only flat. So, yes, I'm willing to make it a girls-only flat, if that's what you still want.

I was stunned speechless. Antony was too - after revealing so much.

We both stood silent for some moments.

"Alright then. If you want this flat to be girls-only, let's see what we can do about it right now while we are both up for it. Sally is out until late, so are we going to introduce her to Antony when she comes back or to Antony-in-a-dress?

"Coo, that's a big step. I wasn't expecting things to go this fast. Well, I've made the big step, haven't I. I've said that I'm willing for this to be a girls-only flat. So, I can't back out now. Yes, let's make me a girl. Let's go for it. I make this firm, although perhaps slightly drunk, request of my tutor in all things feminine - can we go out now and buy me some pretty undies and my first dress and whatever we can afford in the next couple of hours. Please, say yes."

These weren't big steps - this was positively galloping.

My head was in a whirl, but Antony's excitement was infectious.

"Okay. But first we need to take all your measurements and, at least, get you looking as unisex as possible. It would be ghastly if anyone saw us in town buying clothes for Antony the boy. We've got to make sure that Antony-the-girl is separate. I can't keep calling you Antony-the-girl. What would you like to be called? Antonia? Yuk, that makes me think of Antonia Fraser - she's no model for you to rely on. It's got to be something different."

"I hadn't thought about it. I don't like Antonia either - my parents' next door neighbours have a daughter called Antonia. Once or twice, to annoy me they called me Antonia. It really pissed me off. No, I'll think about it while you get me ready for the next adventure."

Golly, we worked hard for the next few hours. The first thing was to measure him completely and work out what size clothes we would have to get. Hips, waist, chest - above and at the nipple-level of course, shoulders, neck, height, torso-length, leg-length, everything. I got him onto the scales too. Then I told Antony to shower and shave his legs as well as his arms. He had no chest hair, thank God, so that was no problem.

While he showered, I checked all my clothes and some of Sally's too. There were a few things from both wardrobes that neither of us liked, or didn't fit anymore but which I felt Antony would be able to wear. I was enjoying this. I was clearing out my wardrobe as well as gaining a whole series of opportunities to go shopping. After all, if you can't shop for yourself, you might as well help someone else spend money.

Antony finished showering before I was really ready, so he sat on the side of the bed drying his hair while I brought in two armfuls of clothes. I saw his eyes light up as he fingered through them. There was a bit of everything - two more panties, some stockings and a suspender-belt, some strap sandals, two skirts, one flowery and summery, one more sedate, three or four blouses and one rather dull dress. There were some other odds and ends too.

"Is that all for me ?" asked the tousle-haired new-girl.

"It's not my best stuff, it's just some things to try on before we buy you something proper. After all, as students, our budget is tight so we need to be pretty careful about what we buy and so on. But I need to get an idea of what feels right for you, materials, colours and so on. You've no idea how much more opportunity you will have as a girl to be flamboyant, colourful and just generally brightly coloured. Although a lot of it is actually a sort of camouflage - like butterflies really."

It was mid-afternoon by now. Some shops would be open late, but we needed to be back in the flat getting ready for Sally's arrival. Time was short and we were going to have to hurry. By hindsight, this was not the best way to go about our first girling. That's the word we've invented to describe what we do.

Anyway. I helped Antony decide which of the old things fitted most comfortably and then I gave him just enough make-up to ensure that anyone seeing him/her would not see the boy in a skirt but would rather see a boyish-looking girl. We've realized that passing successfully really only needs sufficient confidence in the victim. If they believe that they look more girl than boy, then they behave more like a girl than a boy. Antony was still so excited that I could see no problems. Again, hindsight - there were quite a lot of problems ahead. Some, I hadn't any chance of knowing about, others I should have expected. But that's another part of the story.

As I say, I got Antony dressed in his own panties, a pair of tights, (the suspenders wouldn't fit), a skirt and a blouse. We couldn't find a bra, let alone anything to put in it, so I made him wear a vest. At least this gave a strap-line to make people see that it was a girl, however flat-chested.

This wasn't the first time that Antony and I had gone shopping - but never in my wildest dreams had I expected to go out with him dressed as her in my old skirt and undies shopping for a new skirt and undies - for him.

We were really excited about this, both of us infecting the other. We had time in the bus to make a quick list of things and to look at the available budget. Clearly, the first thing was to buy Antony some new underwear, and neither he nor I was willing to go to the second-hand stores for those. So, Marks and Spencers was the first stop. They may be a little more expensive, but their stuff is reasonable, you can exchange most of it if it doesn't fit, and there's a pretty good choice. So we went in with our limited budget and our eager new woman. It was ghastly. She wanted to look at everything. It was obvious that all the other times we had been shopping, the poor dear had been desperate to get to grips with the wonders of lingerie but had never dared. Most boys are able to have a oh-so-casual look at the huge array of nylon and lycra - but clearly Antony had been too shy. Well, he was sure making up for lost time. Eventually, I had to drag him away with what he considered to be a very bare minimum of panties and matching suspenders. I did insist on one brassiere despite the poor darling's lack of content. And she was pretty discontent about that too.

Next we tried the shoe shop. As always, there was a sale on, so we were able to look at quite a few extra cheap shoes and sandals. Her feet were actually the same size as mine but I didn't have more than a few old pairs. I kept quiet about my bonus of Antony buying shoes that I could wear if I wanted too. We bought a lovely pair of pale brown slippers and a strappy sandal with a one inch heel for almost nothing. A smudge on the sandals reduced the price even more.

So we had done shoes and undies. Now for the bigger things - the skirts and dresses which Antony was so eager for. There was a row of shops by the station which was mostly charity and second-hand goods. Antony and I had both bought stuff there, like most students. Now Antony would have to do the same for his new persona.

It was hard work again. There really wasn't that much which was both the right size and interesting enough for my flighty flatmate. The first thing we did agree on was a pretty red and white nightdress. Antony grabbed it off the rack and held on to it tight as soon as he saw that the only other customer in the shop had just given it a thorough check. He wasn't letting this pretty thing get away. We spent quite a while in the three shops. We managed to find quite a few useful little accessories as well, two simple necklaces and a velvet-type choker, a girlish little charm bracelet and two perfectly
acceptable clip-on earrings. I made Antony wear some of these immediately and the improvement in his/her presentation was quite noticeable. The woman behind the counter commented on it. I did wonder afterwards if the tone in her voice had been a bit too 'clever'. I really didn't think she suspected anything. I mean how often did a boy get dressed up in a skirt in order to go shopping in those second-hand boutiques? What a silly suggestion.

The next time we went back to the charity shop, just a week later, the same woman was there. I was stunned when she said, "I did wonder if you'd be back soon. I kept a couple of things back for your pretty friend. I think that they would be quite helpful to her, what with her having to learn so much so quickly. It's almost closing time, so I think I'll lock up a few minutes early and help you out. I was so pleased to find that a young lass like you is already learning to instruct your fellow students in the proper way to dress."

Behind me, I could hear Anita gasp with shock. She had chosen the name Anita the evening before after a long discussion with Sally and me. We had learnt that evening how important the choice of a suitable name was to our targets - and how important it was that they choose a name they feel truly comfortable with. Each time they make a choice to be more feminine rather than feeling a choice has been imposed on them, the more the indoctrination is self-imposed. It seems to be much stronger and more effective that way.

It was clear that our masquerade the week before had not been as successful as we had planned - but this middle-aged woman seemed to be perfectly content. She wasn't worried, so why should I be and why should Anita be. It was also clear from what she said that she was a potentially vital weapon in our battle of the sexes.

We spent a long time in the shop that evening. Anita was thrilled to have an extra person to give advice. Somehow the knowledge that a complete stranger was watching a boy decide which dress to wear didn't worry her at all. After we had spent our budget - and Mrs Perry's help made it stretch much further - we all sat down for a coffee in the back-room.

As I said, her name was Mrs Perry. She was on a sabbatical from being a teacher. She was tired of being an ordinary teacher and she and a small group of friends were looking to start a new school in the area. She had the finance arranged and she was looking to make a decision on one of three local sites. The major decision was exactly what sort of school was going to be best. She was an old-style teacher, keen on the Three R's and that sort of thing. One or two comments indicated that she was a bit of a disciplinarian.

Anita was the one who made the startling suggestion, "If you could tell that I was a boy, and you get pleasure from making me look as pretty as possible, why don't you set up a girls school AND make it known that you will help other boys to learn the same lessons. If it's so easy for me to want to become a girl and learn the delights of frills and lace, there must be others. The parents of such children will be very willing to pay extra tuition fees and so on."

"I had never thought of that", gasped Mrs Perry, her eyes wide with excitement. "I've been in a school where we did have one boy who was being brought up as a girl because of a hideous car accident - but the idea of running a school catering for real-girls as well as new-girls is delicious. I
know my partners will be perfectly willing to agree to whatever I decide.

As you can guess, Mrs Perry did set up such a school and we've helped her as much as we can. Being involved with Mrs Perry and her school has been really helpful too - but that's another big story. I want to tell you about what we've done to help the pretty-boys of this little town."

I nodded my head. Yes, I surely did want to hear more about these two lovely girls and their harem, or equivalent, of girls, or rather their equivalent! I would also have liked to hear more about the school too.

Teresa continued with her tales of training and transformation while we sat there together for over an hour. I was loving this even though I could hear frequent comments which I recognised from my own recent life. Clearly Anne was more in control of me than I had ever believed.


"Now that we've been doing this for such a long time, we have got some understanding of how best to do it. For a start, despite the difficulty in picking new flatmates, we do make an effort to choose small guys to share the flat because it is so much more exciting when they can fit our clothes. What we do is make sure that they have to do their share of the washing, ironing and so on and that their clothes are regularly mixed up with ours. We offer to cut their hair and we buy the right sort of shower-gel and bath foam. It is amazing how many products are usefully unisex when looked at in the right way. We make sure that the bathroom is unisex, that the washing and ironing are shared, and that we watch soppy romantic videos together. We only buy women's magazines - we're very firm about that. The magazines are really useful. They are so down on the macho man and so in favour of the emotionally-correct 'new' man.

"We keep a really close watch on them until we find them putting just that bit too much effort into fondling our things. It doesn't take too long. Then - we pounce. We accuse them of everything - being perverts, being panty-wankers, and just anything. Almost at once, they crumple.

"Once, nothing seemed to be happening except a constant stream of sarcastic comments about articles in the magazines. So we went on the attack, you know. The final trigger was an article titled, 'If you think it's easier being a girl than a boy, why don't you just try it.' Sally saw the article in the shop and realized at once what an opportunity this gave us. Elizabeth, one of the two we brought with us this evening, fell into the trap like a lamb to the slaughter. It was almost too easy.

She had looked so suitable when we picked her as a flatmate. She was actually already known to us after coming to one of our parties. Sally knew she was looking for a new flat and had watched for the opportunity to make the offer. Len, her old name, had been quite interested. Later, Sally saw his jacket on the chair and had borrowed it to make a quick dash to the shops. It had fitted absolutely perfectly, so that became another incentive to get him to take the empty room.

It had seemed so good that we shouldn't have been surprised when he turned out to be less than satisfactory. He did his share around the flat, of course, but never with any real willingness, and we never found him taking the proper amount of interest in our frillies. Sally was so sure he would be a perfect doll, she was getting more and more uptight. She blamed it on the inconsiderate behaviour of some boy she knew. When you consider it, this was not really too inaccurate, after all, it was inconsiderate of Len not to allow us to put him into a pretty summer dress.

It was her blokish attitude which eventually triggered our breakthrough. Len made some silly comment about Sally's recent behaviour. You know, 'what's got your knickers in a twist', 'Can't you make your mind up what to wear' sort of thing. Sally snarled at him, "So you think it's easy being a girl do you? Have you any idea what its like? Tonight, I'm supposed to go out and I don't know what to wear. It's too hot now and too cold later. All you need to wear at this time of year is t-shirt and shorts. You should see how different it is for us."

The evening's first bottle had been emptied already. Len had had most of it. His first mistake of the evening, so Len made his second bigger mistake of sniggering, "What, me in a dress. The lads would see through me in a moment. Don't make me laugh."


"So you think the boys would unmask you in a moment. Is that a dare? Okay, I dare you back. We'll put you in a dress and if the boys detect you then you win. If they don't, then we win."

"Hey, hold on. That's a no-win bet. If I'm found out, my life wouldn't be worth living. If they don't find out, you'll prove that I'm some kind of sissy."

Oh yes, that would be the result, wouldn't it. Shame.

"Don't be daft", said Sally. "It's just playing. You're our flatmate. It's just a bit of home-entertainment. We can't afford to go out on the clubs, after all. And you being caught would be just as bad for us. If you're worried then we'll just make sure that you don't get found out, that's all."

The silly boy was drunk enough not to care much. We made it all sound like a game.

"Don't you want to have a bit of a laugh, then?", Sally insisted.

"Oh, what the heck. Why not. If I can fake it to that snotty theatre crowd that Charlotte knows, then that'll be a bit of fun."

What a silly boy. He had no idea that his predecessor Charlotte the Actress was actually dull, plain, drab ex-Gregory and that the newly-created flirty-Charlotte would be more than eager to help us. Typical male lack of observation was going to let us teach him a few special lessons.

I murmured, "Oh, gosh, it does sounds rather fun."

It was all she needed. She went on and on telling me more of the tricks that I was sure would be used on me in the near future. In fact, I found to my amazement (and disguised delight) that, yet again, some of them had already been in use from the day I met Anne.

"We usually find that when we threaten them with immediate expulsion from the flat, they beg for almost any alternative. When they find that there is no instant reprisal except to take better care of our things, they relax. Then we come in with the real effort. 'You can't keep your hands off our stuff, so we are going to take you out and buy some for yourselves'. The reaction is so exciting. They go red, white, pink and stammer a feeble 'No'. However, we insist. We make them come with us to the shops at once and we plunge into the lingerie. Sally is a real torturer. She insists on talking too loudly and asking what they think of the colours, whether they will fit, on and on. She does it so that it is almost possible to believe that she is talking about them buying stuff for her. We use the same shop as often as possible and one or two of the staff know enough to join in. It's such fun."

"Then we get home and make them put on their new stuff. We make absolutely sure that they have a full set - panties, bra, suspenders and stockings for the daytime and a nightie for bedtime. I mean, they are never going to wear pyjamas again if we can prevent it. If they sleep nude, then they will have to get used to the slip and slide of satin. We have just begun to change their lives forever."

"It does depend a little on exact timing. It is best if we can catch them on a Thursday or a Friday. Then we can work on them for the whole weekend. By the time they have been in silks for nearly 3 days - they are hooked. We give them thrills and encouragement until they can never go back to being ordinary males. Mind you, Jez, it's not that we hate males, it's more that we love turning them into girlies."

I use my quiet Gaelic to murmur, "What sort of thrills?".

Teresa grinned impishly. "You don't need telling do you?"

I smiled as encouragingly as I could. I didn't dare give myself away.

Teresa went on as if nothing had happened. "Well, we have been quite strict beforehand about drinking in the flat, about proper privacy and emphasising that we disapprove of flatmates getting tooo friendly. So we make a few careful re-arrangements. We have already done some checking up on their rooms so we know where they keep most of their stuff. While they have a bath - in a decently feminine bubblebath, we begin to tidy up. We always have a few boxes and bags ready for putting away their too-obviously male accessories.

"When they come out, so to speak, we are ready for them. The makeup is out, the clothes are neatly laid on the bed and we are waiting. If we think it suitable we will have changed into something a little stricter. Often we use what we call our 'headmistress' outfits. We make it very clear that there will be no argument and we get our victim ready."

She broke off to say that they almost never did two at once because it was so much easier training just one girly at a time. She had been talking about 'them' because they had now trained nine of them in the last five years. Once more, she continued with no comment from me.

"You might think that they would object. But we have them almost brainwashed by now. It is all happening so fast that they have no time to object, no time to react. We have attacked their most fundamental attitudes but we have done it at a time when they have already been weakened from within. They are the ones who have been handling our panties and bras. They are the ones who have been aroused. They are the ones who are under control. So we have them out of the bathroom. We now join in and rub them dry with perfumed towels. We do make a real effort to eliminate their maleness. If there is any reaction we do make the most of it. Both Sally and I find that it is indeed a tool to be used. We make sure that they begin to link pleasure with pleasure."

"Sometimes, we get a surprise. After the first time with Anita, when we realized that some men prefer to dress as women, we only had the one point of view. Jane gave us another when we realized that it was easy to turn a pretty young man into an elegant girl. But Charlotte was different again. We never expected her to become one of our flatmates. She was actually one of Anita's fellow workers at the library. His first name was Gregory and he was dead keen on being an actor. Eventually, a part came up for a Jacobean play - and the director wanted to do it the proper Jacobean way with boys playing all the parts. So once Gregory got the audition, he had to go away and 'learn to be a woman'. Anita had made it quite clear to a select few colleagues that she knew about cross-dressing. Amazingly, she was so good that they never suspected her. They thought that she knew some others who cross-dressed. We've actually learnt a lot about men from our efforts to transform them. I suppose that some have become 'ordinary girls' while we have had others who have become much more the completely submissive 'sissy' instead. While it may be hard to find an ordinary flatmate - finding one who looks suitable for the dramatic but exhilarating change to dresses is really tough. Although, I suppose, since we have found nine of them in just five years - it can't be too
difficult, can it?

I grinned to appreciate both their efforts to help these lucky boys. It was evident that she loved the work she was doing, and in fact that she also loved the targets of her skill.

"But I want to tell you about Jane, as an example. She wasn't our first but she has been much the most successful. I suppose, you could actually say that she was the first girl we took from zero because Anita had actually shown us the ropes first time. I told you some about Anita when we spoke earlier. John/Jane joined the flat in March and we made it very clear that there were various jobs in the flat that were done in turn. These included ironing and a variety of other 'girl' tasks. After only a few weeks Sally and I were both sure that John was spending too much time doing the ironing. In fact, I thought that he had been using my favourite pink satin slip for the typical disgusting purpose. The two of us made some plans. Finally, we trapped her on a Thursday. We had had an opportunity before, but this time we knew that she had a day off the next day to go to a haircut. We weren't going to let her get away with that. Horrible."

"We actually caught her rubbing my newest red panties against her cheek. Magic. She couldn't say a thing. All the necessary reactions. We had her into the shops just before they closed at 8. By the time we had spent an hour lingering in lingerie, Sally was almost panting with excitement. She couldn't keep her hands off the poor boy. Every time John looked at one more piece of lacy frill or smoothed his hands along a satin slip - she grinned more and more. I had to send her away in the end. John had a pole sticking out of his trousers and was far too close to making an exhibition of himself."

"We scurried back to the flat by 8.30 and began stage 2. John was getting very embarrassed by his response. I really don't know with most of them whether it is the reaction to having to buy their own panties or whether they are reacting more to being dominated. I don't care much as the effect is the same to us. Anyway, back at the flat, we pushed John into the bathroom for a quick shower and after a few minutes Sally went in to help him shave all over. He screamed out, "What are you doing pushing in here?" but he shut up at once when Sally slapped him and said that he was being a silly girl and needed help shaving."

"Sally began with the legs, but John soon agreed that he would finish the job. He would call for her to come and check that he had done the task properly. I overheard this and chuckled at how submissive John was already proving to be. Sally came into the room and hugged me tight. "He's so pretty. He's sitting on the edge of the bath with a little pile of fluff at his feet. I think he's going to be a real beauty."

"In a few minutes, John called out and Sally sped along to check. Almost at once, they were both back and we helped John get dry. We didn't want to use a proper perfume on recently peeled skin because of the sting but the perfumed towels did the job just as effectively. We sat the prettily smelling John down at the desk and turned the chair so that he could not see into any mirror. We were in control. We were going to help release the true femininity that we knew was within the apparently male body in front of us."

"Sally had selected a few of her dresses because a careful check had shown that they would fit him. The careful check had been for her to try on a few of his clothes. These had fit so well that we knew we had a great opportunity. John had squirmed when we put the new bra and falsies on but stopped when we said stop. He did make his first complaint of the evening, in fact, his only complaint of the evening. "Why are you doing this. I never meant to let you put me into dresses. I know you accused me of being careless with your panties but I was really just being extra careful. I don't think it's right to do this."

"I didn't say anything - I just snapped his bra-straps. He shut up instantly. He was beginning to realize, if not accept fully, who was in control. The stockings rolled up his lovely slim legs and he squirmed again. This time, we could see that this was greatly arousing to him so we both remarked loudly that there was no point in arguing when we could see that his body thought the effect was wonderful. He subsided mentally but not physically."

"Sally painted his nails while I began his makeup. We began to tell him what the plans were for the next few days. "Tomorrow, you are not going to the barber. You are going with us to our stylist instead. We don't want to have you embarrass either us or yourself. You are going to be a proper well-behaved girl from now until you get ready for work on Monday. That gives us a good few hours to show you what you have been missing. You are going to do what we decide. That is what you get for messing around with my panties." This was almost his last opportunity to protest - and he didn't take it."

"Oh yes, there is one decision you can help with. What is your new name. We have to call you something other than 'John'." Our target glanced up through his fringe - he wouldn't need much encouragement to use that delightfully girlish gesture more often. "Well, I don't know. I can't say that I have ever thought about it. Anyway, you can't mean this as a permanent thing."

I interrupted at once, "This is exactly as permanent as you make it. If you can keep your hands off my panties when you are ironing them - then you might be able to persuade us to forgive you." Even so early in our career, we were pretty confident that the continual presence of satins and lace would be too much for him.

He blushed so prettily. "I must say that your things are so lovely compared to those ghastly boxers I have, but I am going to try to leave them alone. I really don't want to be a girl full-time (he was going faster than we planned - even we weren't planning on making him full-time). I suppose you could call me Jane. I mean, I used to be known as J so it would sound nearly right and I would probably react properly when I hear it."

For the first time we used her new name. "Well, Jane darling, we will do all we can to help you. We really don't want to force you into anything you don't want. However, since we noticed that you were continually spending hours longer than necessary doing the ironing - we could only guess that you were doing it on purpose. Then we came in this evening and found you actually rubbing MY satin against your stubble. We don't approve of that so we decided to teach you a lesson you won't forget. When we got to the shop and began to see that you were almost eager for your punishment, we had to take steps."

I continued with this delicious series of lies. "We had a little chat while you were in the shower about what to do with you. We really weren't going to put makeup on you or anything that excessive - but we do feel that we must be cruel to be kind. By the time you have been in silks all weekend, you should be willing never to do it again. At least, that is what I think. Sally fears that you may turn out to be a willing victim."

We were using the standard spy technique. I was being hard while Sally was being soft. She would encourage his feminine side by subtlety while I would stamp on any vestige of masculinity.

Jane tried to conceal her reactions but her body language was almost instantly revealing. Words such as 'silk and satin' made her smile; words like 'victim and punishment' made her shake her head. The strongest reaction had been when I mentioned 'stubble'. Her shudder of distaste promised both Sally and myself that we did indeed have a proper girly in our hands.

Jane's makeup was now done and her hair was just about satisfactory after being fluffed out with the hot-air brush. Wasn't it fortunate that she had been going to have her hair cut the next day. It was quite long just onto the collar and the summer sun had made streaks in the beige-blonde. We had already checked the colour against a chart. Sally carefully dropped the satin blouse over Jane's shoulders and, yes, one more squirm of concealed pleasure from our little girl. The buttons were up the back so that we had to stroke and caress her just a little while the buttons were being done. Jane now stood before us. She was the same height, the same weight and looked remarkably like a sister to Sally. They both wore pale stockings and white shoes, a simple powder-blue skirt and a satin blouse. Jane's was slightly transparent while Sally's was silver-grey. Their makeup was similar and the overall effect, which only I could see, was delightful.

I turned up the overhead light and pushed my pretty pair of girls to the big mirror. As sternly as I could I said, "Right. Now you can see what we can do to you if you don't do everything properly." Jane didn't yet know exactly how carefully we would both interpret that key word 'properly'. Jane was transfixed. In the mirror was the flatmate we knew he preferred - in duplicate. S/he quivered from head to toe and, for almost the last time, said, "I don't think this is right." But she said it in a wonderfully soft almost girlish voice so I knew that she was already on her way.


So for the first time, Sally and I both kissed our new treasure. For the first time, she realized the pleasure of branding another person with lipstick. We grinned at each other and began to make our plans. By now, it was nearly 10 o'clock and we didn't feel too confident about going out on the town yet. However, there was a new winebar just around the corner. It was so new that only Sally had been in there - it was satisfactorily dark, there were several corners and cubicles, and it would be quite empty as it was not very well-known.

We encouraged our little girl on her first adventure. None of us counted the trip to the shop with John. She wriggled, (and jiggled a bit too) as she tried to tell us that it was impossible, she was bound to be found out but we were both too eager. Eventually, she accepted that we were all going out and she knew that this meant she must be as good as gold or equally careful anyway or she might be found out. That would be appalling for her and embarrassing for everyone. Sally told me afterwards that when Jane said she was bound to be found out - her viciously poetic mind changed it to 'if Jane does get found out then she would be bound, and tied and beaten if necessary'.

Nothing much happened at the winebar. Jane soon realized that she looked perfectly ordinary. Nothing was going to happen unless she made a big mistake. The standard mistake of going into the Gents was prevented because we couldn't even find it. We left after just a glass each - although we did take the bottle back. We had paid for it and we were going to finish it. Jane smiled the first time she saw her own lipstick on a glass. She smiled when we congratulated her on properly smoothing her skirt before she sat down. She smiled when the man behind the bar took a second glance at the third and silent girl. She smiled when she was the only one not to trip over the little step in the doorway.

When we got back to the flat, we sat down - or rather Sally and I sat down while we told Jane to get the glasses. When she came back with three, I snapped, "What do you think you are doing, one glass is enough for you. You need to lose a little weight before you can wear any of Sally's dresses."

This was the cue for Sally to interrupt, "Tess, don't be so mean. Jane looks just fine. That skirt fits like it was chosen for her (it had been). You don't need to be so hard because Jane wanted your panties. Look at her. You've nearly made her cry. Don't worry, Jane, get another glass and we can all have one more glug."

Jane flipped satisfactorily from embarrassment to thanks. Each time we got her to agree to any part of the new situation, the velvet glove was squeezing tighter.

Sally drifted off to change into her nightdress. As soon as she came back, we both instructed Jane to go and change into her new attire. Another step to get her used to being a girl with other girls. She called out asking for help with taking her blouse off. Sally sped away to do the deed. They came back quite quickly looking even more like twins. Jane had kept on the bra which pleased me greatly. We snuggled up on the sofa just as Sally and I had done at school. We turned on the late night movie which was a suitable romance. The lights were low and so we could watch Jane and tick her off for any inappropriate reactions. It was wonderful. She had been in our control for just a few hours but she was doing so well. She didn't see herself as the detective but as the heroine.

After an hour or so, we were all sleepy. We both helped Jane get ready for bed. We showed her how to remove her makeup. We both tucked her in and gave her a goodnight kiss. She grinned up at us as we turned off the light. "I still don't think this is a good idea, but the feel of this satin is just lovely - I can't resist it." It was clear from the lump in the bedclothes that she was still much too excited so Sally decided to fix the pleasure-pleasure linkage more firmly in our girl's satisfactorily exhausted skull.

She pushed me out of the room and went back in. I knew that Jane wasn't going to get exactly what she expected - but I was happy. In the morning, when Sally skipped into my bed for an early morning chat, she told me what had happened.

"Jane looked so excited when I slipped into bed with her. I snuggled up behind her and made spoons, so that I could whisper in her ear. I wrapped my arms around her chest and accidentally left my hands playing with her nipples while I talked. I made absolutely sure that I didn't touch her thing for quite a while. I talked to her about how happy I was that she looked so like me. I went on and on about how nice I found it when I wore silks and satins rather than the hairy tweeds and wools that men had to wear. It was delicious. She kept wriggling and squirming. One time, when she started rubbing back up against me, I changed tack and started asking direct questions about what did she think. Did she like the name Jane? Did she enjoy the extra tension in the legs when she wore the high heels. I was pretty confident of the answers from having watched her for the last few days. She had started by being completely aroused and stiff as a rock when I first got into bed. But gradually I had got her relaxed and soft, then I worked her up once more with a quick brush of my satin-wrapped hand. Then I talked again about the pleasure I had of her being so pretty. The effort to concentrate so hard on her girlishness made her manliness subside.

Finally, when she had once more almost subsided, I asked if being dressed up gave her a sexual thrill. It was the first time I had spoken about this aspect. The response was fantastic. Despite Anita's repeated statements that dressing as a girl was not essentially a sexual thing, it was wonderful to hear John/Jane express the same certainty.

She said, "At first, all I could think about was that here were two girls making a real fuss over me. I didn't care much what they were doing - just that they were doing it with me. But now, after this snuggly chat with you, I realize that I also enjoy the dressing up. Looking like you is a bonus, but like you say, these swishy satins and silks are just so much nicer than anything I have ever had before. I am more excited about being pretty and going out as a girl than I ever was about going out with a girl. I don't think sex is part of it." Her thing made a bit of an effort but it was nothing like as bold as before.

We talked a little more, but the poor dear was getting sleepy. Eventually, I realized that there was no great benefit in keeping her awake. So I decided to reinforce a few feminine thoughts and leave her to rest. I leant over and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek and murmured into her shell-like ear, "Don't worry darling. We'll help you do whatever you want. If you want to be my sister, then you can. I think you'll be much happier wearing silks and soft satins. Just feel this lovely nightdress on your soft skin. And if you want to dream about anything, then imagine yourself with a pair of breasts just like mine", - as I said that I gave her nipples a last gentle stroke and she murmured drowsily, "oh yes, yes, yes, please."

With that, I slipped out of bed. She was almost instantly asleep so I gave the room and her pillow a small squirt of perfume as an encouragement to girlhood.

Then I went down to join Teresa and we made plans for Jane and how she would be spending Friday, Saturday and Sunday. We had until she left for work on Monday morning to persuade her, as if she needed much persuading, that it was better being a girl. We rang Anita to get her to agree to visit on the Saturday. It would obviously help Jane to realize that she wasn't alone in wanting to be a beautiful butterfly instead of a hairy caterpillar.

Jane's first day

In the morning, I made a quick call to the office to say that I had a bit of a girl's problem but I would be back on Monday. I enjoyed saying that because they would never be able to guess exactly what sort of girl's problem I really meant. Sally was on part-time work at the hospital so didn't need to go in anyway. I then checked that there was a slot at my hairdresser for Jane and they said that they were free at 11.

Sally went along to her new sister's room. Jane had already got up and was wondering exactly what to wear. She had successfully put on her other bra and was just rolling up the stockings. She grinned at Sally. "I know that it seems silly, but did you really whisper in my ear that I ought to have breasts like yours. I couldn't get it out of my mind. I can't believe that you did - did you?"

Sally said that she couldn't help it. She said, "Yes, I did. You looked so like me that I couldn't bear the thought of you going back to being an ordinary man. I want my new sister. Will you be my sister? Will you let me dress you up in silks and satins? I want to see you in frills and flounces. I want to hear the whisper of nylons as you cross your legs. I want to see your eyes in blue and gold and glitter. I want to see you the two of us - tits tumbling out of a low-cut bra - dressed up for the Summer Ball. Oh God, I want us to have such a wonderful time."

Jane's eyes were on stalks by the time Sally was halfway through this speech. By the time she had finished, Jane was holding her tight, saying, "Oh, yes, I do want that to happen. I'll do anything to make it come true."

Sally helped Jane get ready to go out and then they both came downstairs to where I was waiting. I was keen to initiate the next step of Jane's training. Since she was only our second trainee, we hadn't got into the smooth routine we now have. However, I was already sure that she would need some encouragement before she became suitably submissive. It was a good start to get her into frills but in order to complete the job, we needed to build on her sissyness until she was properly trained. If we wanted a man about the house, we could have found one. What we wanted was girls. So, if any men joined our flat, we were going to encourage them to make the change.

We didn't do anything really special that Friday. We took Jane down to the hairdresser and made sure that she had the works. Her hair was just long enough to have a pretty style and we had already noted that there were proper streaks in it. Nevertheless, we insisted that Janice did as many encouraging and diverting tricks on our pretty Jane as possible. We gave her a manicure, a pedicure, nail-polish on toes and fingers; trimmed her eyebrows and dyed her eyelashes; pierced her ears and added the most darling little sleepers. Finally, Janice gave her a professional workover on the daytime makeup. "See how this colour matches your eyes, while this one enhances by being different. You really ought to spend time learning how to look after your eyes - they are your best feature." We could see the pleasure this gave our ex-boy - being told that he had pretty eyes.

Jane kept very quiet throughout the session. Her ordinary quiet voice would have been satisfactorily girlish but we had warned her not to risk it yet. We would give her some coaching - in particular with the change of phrases from the male to the decently feminine. She would have to learn to use 'pretty' and 'lovely' and 'darling' instead of 'nice' and 'strong' and 'tough'. We didn't want Jane to spend any significant time in a masculine mode. At the hairdresser's, we found a stack of women's magazines for our new woman to get to grips with. They had all the right words, the correct attitudes and would help encourage Jane to learn her new role.

After an hour and a half, there was no more to be done. We were a set of three girls out on the town. We had no plans to go to the clubs or to expose Jane to any risk. Instead, we went shopping. As students, none of us had much cash, but we knew that as long as we were selective, we could get Jane a decent selection of her own clothes. There was an advantage and a disadvantage to her being almost the same size as Sally. It was good that Jane could borrow Sally's clothes - but it was important that Jane knew that her wardrobe was also filled with frills and flounces that truly belonged to her.

As it turned out, we didn't need to worry. Jane was as cool as anything. If a shop assistant or waiter asked her anything, she would murmur a silky "I'll leave it to you, Sally". If she had to go into a cubicle to try anything on, she skipped over as if she had been doing it for years. Most pleasingly, as soon as she put on a new dress or skirt, she carefully checked to see if it made her bottom look too large. It was gorgeous. In the next shop Sally and I had to do almost nothing as our girl took more and more steps into the SisterDom. It was delightful watching the excitement of our boy as she slid into the caress of satin panties and clinging lingerie. He looked excited as Teresa selected yet another dress. The cubicle was large enough for us to have an all-girl party as we helped each other try things on. Our new girl stood exposed in only lace bikini panties, suspender belt and pale stockings with simple 2 inch leather heeled pumps. He looked uncomfortable with his hands modestly clasped over his non-existent chest.

When Teresa put on the new bra - padded and filled - and helped him fasten it, he looked relieved, happier. When she pushed and pulled at the loose flesh so that there was an impression of cleavage, our girl began to glow and shake with excitement. The addition was completing the initial transition to girlhood. As the dressing continued, the lacy slinky slip and the thin see-through blouse and the half-length skirt, so our girl relaxed and grew in confidence. By the end of it, our girl Jane was swaying from side to side, enjoying the swish of the skirt against her nylon-clad legs and the feel of being encased in ecstasy.

So that was Friday - just an ordinary day where a boy begins to turn into a pretty new-girl.

John had a different set of problems than some of our other flatmates. He didn't have an office job which would have meant him seeing the same people every day. He was a technical rep. He travelled round a circuit of about 20 clients - one day each per month. He was good at the job and popular with the clients - but he had to drive every day and often stay out overnight. I could see problems with keeping a proper balance between John and Jane while s/he was out of our direct control. The first evening back, Jane brought up the subject herself. "What do you think I'll be able to do while I'm out on the road. Do you think I'll be able to dress up properly and so on."

"Yes, my love, and what exactly do you mean by 'properly'?

"Well, I want to wear my pretty nightdress and so on, and wear my frilly panties all day. Do you think this will be difficult?"

"To answer that, I need to know your routine better. Do you stay at the same places every time? Do you have any laundry done? What sort of maid-service do the various hotels offer. After all, if they know you already as John, they can hardly be expecting you to put knickers in for the laundry."

"Well, I do stay at the same places now - but the new promotion will put me into a more profitable area to the north. It will be quite different then. There should be much more opportunity to dress as I wish. Sorry, Teresa, of course, I mean as you wish."

I glowed inside. The dear girl had caught the surprised flicker of my eyebrow as a command to recognise her new submissive status.

We talked for a long time until Sally came home and we decided to give Jane another lesson in makeup.


On the Saturday morning, we had a surprise for Jane. She had met Antony before when she was looking at the flat, but this morning she was meeting Anita instead. We had talked about how to set it up so that Jane would be suitably amazed. Anita's suggestion was to 'let it happen'. She would talk about this and that, and what it used to be like in the flat. Sally or I would continue the subject making the occasional reference to both Antony and Anita, 'his sister'. If Jane picked up the thread then we would congratulate her, if she didn't then we would continue until she did.

The morning was such fun. Jane was looking tired but still very pretty in her new blouse and skirt. The two of us praised her until she blushed. She was quite concerned at meeting another girl who might detect her subterfuge but, as I said, our constant praise and, indeed, her own reflection in the mirror were quite sufficient to make our delicious new-girl relax and enjoy the occasion.

Anita, as instructed, was dressed to kill. Short skirt, long legs, high heels topped by an almost see-through blouse, carefully chosen to reveal both underwear and cleavage. The exact moment to reveal Anita as a previous trainee hadn't been chosen - but that moment would come and it was important that Jane be absolutely stunned by the revelation.

She would be forced to think - 'That girl, that cleavage, that figure - there was no way can I see any fleck or speck of masculinity there.'

Then we would remind her that the same would be possible for her. Hooked and Sunk.

Our first outing was to the park. We could all see Jane shiver as the warm wind blew up her legs over her sheer stockings to her crutch. Not a sensation available to the average male. Anita teased her just a little about it. Jane surprised us all by giggling and saying, in pure tones of Jane Austen, that 'the feeling of air upon my newly girlish satin-clad bollocks is most agreeable'.

This set the tone for the day. Our new-girl was having fun and we should join in to help.

By mid-afternoon we were all faltering somewhat. Jane was hobbling in the heels which she insisted on wearing - but she was still eager for new things to happen.

She prattled away in such a delicious, girly fashion – even if we had had to teach her at first. On and on she went "Almost every thing that is happening to me is a first. My first bra, my first panties, my first lipstick, my first bracelet and necklace ..... there are just so many things for a girl to learn. It's like you said, I have the opportunity to become a glossy, sleek colourful butterfly. I no longer need to be a pin-striped beetle. I can fly." And she spun round swishing her petticoats and loving the rustle of her skirts against her stockings.

And so Jane's second day ended with her enfolded in satin and perfume, blissfully dreaming of the day when she and her new best friend, Sally, would stun the crowds with their matching displays of cleavage and feminine attire.

On the Sunday, the sun was shining and it was still early when I was woken by Jane coming into my room with early-morning tea. She was wearing her nightdress, of course, and a pretty lilac negligee. She had done her best to put on a little lipstick too. I was delighted with her willingness to do as we desired. Her hair was tied back with a ribbon. If I hadn't known, I would have been completely certain that I was being woken by a pretty young girl. When I congratulated her on her efforts and said how proud I was, she blushed so prettily.

She left me to get dressed and I hurried so that I wouldn't miss any part of my new-girl's Sunday outing. I came down snugly wrapped in bright silk and soft cashmere, to remind her of her wider range of options for colour and material.

In the kitchen, she sat with her negligee falling open at the knee to show her smooth thighs clasped tight together like a properly modest maiden. We chatted about this and that. After a while, I asked with apparently grim determination, "Today is your last chance to back out, you know. We've put a lot of effort in over the last two days to show you how much fun it is being a girl. But - if you really want to back out and move on to another flat and so on - this is the time to say so. I'll sort it out with Sally if necessary. She won't understand. She's so proud of Jane, as I am, - but if you do - well - now or never." I made a real effort to make the decision come out the way we wanted. Give this lovely girl the opportunity to waste all our work - no way.

The damsel took a deep breath - his padded bra jutting out prettily. S/he bent forward and said, through lips glistening with fresh red lipstick, "I do feel funny wearing panties and dresses. I know you have turned me into a truly grateful girly in only a few delightful hours and I should be both shocked and ashamed - but I have to confess that I love it. I feel soft and gentle instead of rough and tough. The feel of this satin robe on my naked skin is adorable. I feel right using these girly phrases and being treated as 'one of the girls'. I would hate it to stop. I won't say that I'll enjoy every moment of it in the future - but for now - help me be the best girl in the world."

I smiled with delight and crushed the darling boy in my arms, kissing her cheek so that I didn't smear her lipstick.

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