Submission ~ Thithy Katie
copyright ©www.GovernessX.com ~ material not to be reproduced without written permission
Mr Thithy Goeth To Pwithon! ~ a tale of a thithy in the gaol ghetto
A Christmas Caroline ~ a Sissy Dickens tale
Thithy Lithping Alphabet
Mr Thithy Goes to Hospital ~ a Thithy Carry On
I Wrote Your Name In The Sand ~ a love poem
Babula! ~ a gothic tale of vampire wenches & piffle
A Couple of Thithy Novelties ~ thithy rhymes
Thithyenthtein! ~ a gothic tale of sissy monster creation
Runway! ~ a sissy-in-school story
Mummy Is The Light ~ a sweet sissy verse
The Eye of The Tiger ~ a sissy-in-school story
Hail Governess ~ a tribute to the panties of GovernessX
Governess Prayer ~ a thithy prayer of worship
The Lithping Workth: Thithy In Thpathe ~ the epic voyage of a sissy astronaut
The Lithping Workth: Thithy Detective ~ the adventures of a sissy detective
Fwuthtwation ~ a dreamy
Regression ~ a memory
Be Nithe To Youw Forethkin ~ a lithping ditty
Just a Moment ~ a nursery ditty
Lovely Mummy ~ a rhyme of simple sissy submission
Ode to Governeth X ~ a rhyme of adoration
Thithy Katie Arrives at GovernessX ~ a short story of a sissy's second attendance at The Practice
Mr Thithy Goeth To Pwithon!
"Chairman of the Jury, have you reached a verdict?"
The chairman rose from his seat. "Yes, M'Lud."
"And is it the verdict of you all?"
"Yes, M'Lud.
"Do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty?
"Guilty. Guilty... Guilty as Hell!"
The judge turned to the defendant.
"Mr Thithy, you have been found guilty of the most terrible crime. Guilty of putting a soiled nappy in the wrong type of waste disposal bin."
"Eek"
"There can only be one sentence..."
"But, your worship, there was only a tiny creamy in the nappy. And even that was accidental."
"Silence!" said the judge, his toothless mouth twisted with hate. "You will serve a sentence of not less than twenty years at Todmorden State Correctional Facility. Take him down."
"Eek!"
Out in Todmorden Bay waves crashed on the rocks of a bleak island, barren save for the grim edifice of Todmorden State Correctional Facility. Armed guards with thousand yard stares manned the watch towers. Agonized cries echoed through the dank fluorescent rotunda. "Forty years, Man. Forty years! I can't do no forty years!"
Out in the windswept exercise yard tattoed gangs congregated to posture and stake out territory, the atmosphere heavy with menace and misguided testosterone. Hard muscular bodies pumped iron and a battered ghetto blaster pumped out the lurid rap lyrics of the mean streets of Bacup City.
"THUMP THUMP THUMP
My Daddy was mean, my Mama was hard,
We had a scrapyard alsation in the back yard.
THUMP THUMP THUMP"
Into this situation teetered Mr Thithy. What would become of him?
We'll have to see...***
"Hey, you, Thithy, get in that there shower now, Boy!"
"Oh me, Thir? Yeth Thir."
Thith will be nithe. A lovely shower. Oh, and I notithed the nithe exercise yard. I'll have my shower, put a nithe clean nappy and fwillieth and thithy dweth on, then I'll pwactithe my thithy danthing in the exercise yard. I'll jutht keep a low pwofile and twy to bwend in and thtay optimithtic. Yeth, my nappy ith alwayth half full, rather than half empty. Teeheeheee!
Later...
Oh, what a nithe day for thithy danthing. The thun ith thining and all my fellow inmateth are making the motht of it. I know, I'll thing my favouwite thong while I'm danthing, that might endear me to all the nithe inmateth.
"I feel thithy, oh tho thithy, La la la la la la la la! (teeter, pirouette, hop. skip)
"Hey Billy! take a look over there!"
Mr Thithy's creative choreography had attracted the attention of the most violent and ruthless gang in the joint.
"Take a look at that!"
"Holy shi..."
"What the f..."
"Hey, Billy. Let me pop a cap in his sorry sissy ass. Put him out of his misery"
"Just wait one minute. Ain't you heard? Word in the joint is the Mob accountant is inside. That sissy act might just be a front. Who'd think that freakin' sissy might know where all the dough is stashed. I'm gonna make that sissy mother tell me what I want to know. Then when we blast our way outa here, we'll be loaded."
Later that day, "Bigtime" Billy found himself alone with Mr Thithy.
"Hey, Thithy. I want the Mob dough and I'm gonna make you my bitchboy. You're gonna tell me where the bread is and your ass is mine."
"Oh, bwead? dough? Are we going to be baking? That will be nithe. Pewhapth we can make thome fairy caketh ath well.
"Fairy cakes my ass! You know what I'm after, Thithy.
"Well, er, actually I've jutht had a a wather bad cathe of the Four Minuteth and in that rethpect, might not be of interest to you."
Will Mr Thithy's Four Minute Miles be a deterrent to "Bigtime" Billy?
Thtay tuned...
***
"Rockford Files or no Rockford Files, I'm gagging for it, Thithy!"
"Eeek"
"Put that thar Thithy down!" A deep voice boomed out. It belonged to the hardest man in the joint; Bondage "Crusher" Babydoll. Banged up for a crime he didn't commit. The innocent player in a European VAT scam. he spent twelve months driving a a million pairs of panties across European borders and the experience touched him.
Determined to clear his name, he went on a masturbation protest and vowed not to touch his tinkle until proved innocent. And that was three years ago...
So much for the past. Now was the time for action;
Biff! Bop! Uppercut, left hook, one in the bread basket.
Bigtime Billy lay sprawling, gasping for breath. "Crusher" Babydoll snarled at his horizontal opponent. His fists had done the talking again.
He turned to the relieved Mr Thithy. "I'm bustin' outa this hole, Thithy. And I'm takin' you with me."
"Gasp!"
"It'll be dangerous, but it's a risk we gotta take."
"Oh, yeth, of courthe. Hmm."
Out in the yard, the thump of ghetto blaster rap masking their whispered conversation, "Crusher" Babydoll outlined the plan.
"The tunnel's under the shithouse, blah blah blah..."
"THUMP THUMP THUMP."
Meanwhile, on the outside, a new governess, had been appointed to Todmorden State Correctional Facility. Her radical ideas would change everything.
Don't touch that dial...
***
The winds of change were blowing through the grim halls of Todmorden State Correctional Facility.
The world renowned innovative and reforming Governess X was newly appointed to bring change and enlightenment. Governess X, famous for her highly popular Hug A Thithy campaign and responsible for the Face Sitting For The Unfortunate legislation, soon to be enshrined in Human Rights law.
For Mr Thithy and Crusher Babydoll, a bad time to be busting out. If only they had known...
"Right, Mr Thithy. You go first. Slide down the hole, through the half mile long sewer pipe, mind the anacondas and rats, then just a ten mile swim across the freezing Todmorden Straits, infested with killer jelly fish."
"Well, I er, erm..."
"There you go!" (Push)
"Waagghh! (Splosh} Oh dear, it'th a bit methy down here and there'th thtrange thingth fwoating in the water. At leatht I think it'th water."
Crusher Baby doll knew they were still in the prison perimeter. He could hear the thump of the ghetto blaster several feet above them. The sound echoed through the sewer pipe.
THUMP THUMP THUMP
My Mama was mean, my Daddy was hard,
I'll steal your DVD and nick your car...
Thump Thump Thump
The rap grew more distant as they waded through the sewage. Mr Thithy, always careful were personal hygene was concerned, was somewhat distressed at the fact that he was nappy deep in Richard The Thirds.
"Don't worry, Mr Thithy. Only half a mile to go. Look! there's alight at the end of the pipe."
Meanwhile, a short distance away, Governess X was bringing new hope to the wretched. Needle point classes were already underway and the inmates were being encouraged to display their feminine sensitive sides.
"Those are my freakin' frilly curtains!"
"No they ain't, Dip****"
Change is always hard at first.
We'll be right back after these important messages...
A Christmas Caroline
"Merry Christmas, Mr Kenneth!"
"Bah, Humbug! No it isn't, Mr Thithy."
"But it's the season of giving and goodwill."
"The only thing I'm giving is myself an ulcer! Climate change, interest rates, recession,
I could go on. Now, clear off, Mr Thithy, or I'll set the alsations on you!"
"Woof woof!"
"Eek!"
That got rid of him. Christmas? A season of giving? I don't think so. Wait a minute, what's this? A box? For me? Bah! It's been delivered to the wrong address. It's for Mr Thithy next door. Hmm, I think I'll open it. It might be something I can flog on ebay. Let's have a look inside...
Good heavens! It's a pink satin dress, frilly satin panties and a frilly bonnet! What's this, a note;
"Dear Mr Thithy,
Please find enclosed your new lovely sissy costume for the Sissy Christmas Ball.
I'm sure you'll make a big impression. Rumour has it that the famous and beautiful
Governess X will be the guest of honour. What a night it will be."
Well, who would have thought it. Mr Thithy is a real sissy! What a shock! Hmm, this satin feels quite... soft and feminine. Oh yes, very soft and feminine. Oh, I feel quite sleepy. Yawn Zzzzzzzzz
"Mr Kenneth. Mr Kenneth!"
"Zzzzz Hello, Hello. Aargghh Who are you?"
"I am Bondagebabyghost of Christmas past. I have been sent to show you the error of your ways. You will come with me...now!"
"Aargh!"***
"Bondagebabyghost? what kind of name is that? And what are you doing in my dream. I normally charge a small fee for entering my dream."
"Mr Kenneth, you're missing the point. I am here to help you."
"Help me?"
"Yes. Look how mean and miserly you are. You're cut off from your feelings. There's an emotional void in your life that you need to fill. But it's not really your fault. You're were deprived of erotic experiences just when you needed them most. For instance, do you remember that party you attended twenty years ago?
"Gulp!"
"Yes, you arrived without a partner and brought your guitar to entertain everyone. Tragically, it was a wife swapping party and the only song that you knew was "Stand By Your Man."
"Yes, I remember. The guests were with me all the way, but I managed to shake them off at the bus station."
"Like I said, Mr Kenneth. You've just been unlucky. But I can change all that by helping you sensitize to new erotic experiences. Or I should say I know someone who can help you.
"This way, Mr Kenneth, this way..."
They floated down a long, dark tunnel. To the left and right were scenes of anguish and torment. Writhing wretches, condemned to an eternity of suffering.
"Good Heavens! Who are that tragic suffering group over there, Mr babyghost. Why are they all bound together?"
"Cross dressers, Mr Kenneth. A fine leisure activity in itself, but they stole their lingerie from washing lines. Divine retribution has condemned them to washing line bondage for eternity. The silky panties they crave are out of reach to them, though they are allowed a glimpse of them through the glass door are as they spin for ever in Hell's eternal tumble dryer.
But enough small talk, Mr Kenneth. Our destination draws near..."
Whatever next?
***"Bondagebabyghost? what kind of name is that? And what are you doing in my dream. I normally charge a small fee for entering my dream."
"Mr Kenneth, you're missing the point. I am here to help you."
"Help me?"
"Yes. Look how mean and miserly you are. You're cut off from your feelings. There's an emotional void in your life that you need to fill. But it's not really your fault. You're were deprived of erotic experiences just when you needed them most. For instance, do you remember that party you attended twenty years ago?
"Gulp!"
"Yes, you arrived without a partner and brought your guitar to entertain everyone. Tragically, it was a wife swapping party and the only song that you knew was "Stand By Your Man."
"Yes, I remember. The guests were with me all the way, but I managed to shake them off at the bus station."
"Like I said, Mr Kenneth. You've just been unlucky. But I can change all that by helping you sensitize to new erotic experiences. Or I should say I know someone who can help you.
"This way, Mr Kenneth, this way..."
They floated down a long, dark tunnel. To the left and right were scenes of anguish and torment. Writhing wretches, condemned to an eternity of suffering.
"Good Heavens! Who are that tragic suffering group over there, Mr babyghost. Why are they all bound together?"
"Cross dressers, Mr Kenneth. A fine leisure activity in itself, but they stole their lingerie from washing lines. Divine retribution has condemned them to washing line bondage for eternity. The silky panties they crave are out of reach to them, though they are allowed a glimpse of them through the glass door are as they spin for ever in Hell's eternal tumble dryer.
But enough small talk, Mr Kenneth. Our destination draws near..."
Whatever next?
***
The beautiful Governess ordered Mr Kenneth to undress and lie down on the changing mat. Her delicate hands firmly and expertly fitted him with a nappy. He sighed and moaned at her touch, her scent, her close proximity melting his frozen emotions. His balance sheet brain suddenly engulfed with feelings of adoration and submission.
"Now, Mr Kenneth, I think the lemon yellow satin sissy dress."
"Thatin thithy dweth?"
"Blimey" thought Bondagebabyghost. "It's the magical Governess effect. He's lisping already."
The Governess slipped the delicate sissy dress over Mr Kenneth's head, pulled it down and fastened the three pearl buttons at the back of the lacy collar.
Trembling with anticipation, Mr kenneth was ordered to lie on the mat again. The beautiful Governess knew that dramatic measures were required to awaken Tiny Tim and help Mr Kenneth achieve his sissy destiny.
She lowered herself into a kneeling position, Mr kenneth's awestruck face was inches away from her perfectly sculpted bottom. She gently lowered her bottom onto his astounded features.
"A, er, motht pweathureabwe thenthation, Governeth," he gasped. "I wonder if Gordon Bwown will put a thtealth tax on it..."
Mr Kenneth could speak no more. His alarmed and quivering mouth and nostrils were now smothered by the white cotton panties of a goddess. Her warmth, scent and femininity overwhelmed him.
Somewhere down below, Tiny Tim was stirring from a twenty year sleep. Growing stronger and taller by the second. In moments, Tiny Tim was transmogryfied, as tall, hard and proud as a diamond encrusted titanium dildo.
At this moment of rebirth, it was only fitting that Mr Kenneth should have a new name.
The beautiful Governess lowered her head and whispered into his ear; "I christen you Sissy Caroline... Sissy Caroline... Sissy Caroline..."
Mr Kenneth, sorry, Sissy Caroline awoke from a deep sleep. She couldn't remember exactly what had happened in her dream, but somehow it felt great to be alive. There wasn't much time to lose. She had to rush to Mr Thithy's and return his new sissy dress. And then, buy a lovely sissy dress of her own for that night's Sissy Ball.
And what a night it was. Every sissy and adult baby from miles around was there. Celebrity adult baby chef Baby col-col was there, having concocted a gourmet array of dishes for the hungry babies and sissies.
The cabaret was by Thithy Katie's Sissy Corps de Ballet, who performed a teetering, delicate dance routine, culminating in "The Full Mandy"; a tasteful balletic striptease.
But the climax of the evening was reserved for the entrance of the lovely and adorable Governess X, whose radiant beauty filled the ballroom, causing all guests to bow and curtsey in her presence.
As she walked through the adoring throng, she caught the eye of one sissy in particular, who was proudly wearing her new lemon yellow satin dress.
"Sissy Caroline, how lovely to see you."
"You.. you know my name, Governeth?"
"Of course, and do say hello to Tiny Tim for me."
Sissy Caroline blushed and smiled. What a lovely Christmas it was.
The End
Thithy Lithping Alphabet
T is for Thithy. It'th altho for Thtwap,
to punith a naughty botty acwoth Mummy'th lap.
W is for L which I can't pwonounthe.
I thay "Flouncy petticoats,"
but it alwayth cometh out "Fwounthe".
R ith a minefiewd and S even more;
Thhe thellth thea thhellth on the thea thore.
But the wain in thpain doethn't bother me,
ath long ath I'm frillied and pwetty.
Pwethipitation in Madwid ith inconthequential.
Mummy'th lithping novelty thithy.
Mr Thithy Goes to Hospital
Gosh I'm wather nervouth. It'th my firtht twip to hothpitaw for an opewation. I'm thure nothing will go wrong... but you never know. Stwangely. if it all goeth titth-up I'm thure there'th thome thort of thithy afterwife. I had an incwedible dweam latht night. I wath fwoating down a long tunnel and at the end was a light. And ath I came into the light I thaw a beautiful garden. And thtanding in the garden wath the motht beautiful governess I could ever imagine. She wath ever tho feminine with dark hair and the motht beautiful brown eyes imaginable. She told me I wath in Thithy Heaven and that I would be her thithy thlave for all eternity. Phew! what a dweam, tho vivid, tho real!
Oh well, here I am at the conthultant'th office.
"Come in Mr Thithy. I'm Dr Ringpiece and this is Nurse Peachvice. We'll be carrying out you operation today. And there's nothing to worry about. Your haemorroid operation should be quite straight forward. As far as I'm concerned, an every day case of "Rockfords" Haha!"
"Yeth, "Nurembergth" Hoho!"
"That's right, "Farmers" Hehe!"
"Yeth, yeth, "Pwymouthth" Yuk yuk! Well, I feel much more welaxed now Dr Ringpiece."
"Good. Now, first of all Nurse Peachvice will strip you an administer an enema."
"Gulp!"
"Nothing to worry about, a normal procedure."
"Now Mr Thithy, come with me into the cubicle. There we are. Now, let's undress you. Oh, I see you're wearing frillies... and a nappy!"
"Yeth, well, er..."
"No need to explain. let me pull them down..."
"Sigh!"
"There we are. Now, bend over. Let's get this nice rubber tube inserted."
"Eeek!"
"There we are. Now give those botty cheeks a good clench while I give everything a good flush. Here we go..."
WHOOSH... SPLURGE...
"Waghhh!"
"Hold it, Mr Thithy! Or I'll have to spank you!"
"Aaarrghh!"
"Now, let go!"
KERSPLATT!
"Oh, what a stinky Mr Thithy you are!"
"Ohhh... Gasp..."
"Now. come with me. Dr Ringpiece is waiting to operate..."***
"Now, Mr Thithy, just hop up onto the operating table for me and tuck your knees up. We'll soon sort out your Nobbys, Ho ho!"
"Yeth, yeth... my Tate and Lyles... He he!"
"Just relax and Nurse Peachvice will put you to sleep."
"That's right, Mt Thithy, just relax. I'm going to hold this black rubber mask tight across your face. Breath deeply..."
"Uurrghh."
"Don't struggle, Mr Thithy! I'll have to be strict with you!"
"Uurrghh...zzzzzzzzzzz."
"I think he's under, Dr Ringpiece. I'll just give his tinkle a tweak... No reaction. He's sleeping like a baby."
"Good. Now, let's have a look at Mr Thithy's bottom.... Jeezus Kerrist! This is the worst case of chalfonts I've ever seen! I'm not sure I can operate in my current state of mind. Nurse Peachvice, do you fancy a quick knee trembler? That always cheers me up."
"Of course, doctor. I'll just shuffle Mr Thithy up the table.
"Lovely. Now, bend over Nurse Peachvice. I'm going to operate from behind."
"Ooohh, Doctor... Oh, yes, Aaahh..."
"Gasp... It's getting there, Nurse Peachvice... It's getting there!"
"Oohh, Doctor.... Doctor... It's Mr Thithy, he's turned all blue."
"Oh, shit! We forgot to turn the gas off. Priorities, Nurse. I'll just reach a climax, then we'll try and revive him."
"Oh, Doctor..."
"It's getting there, Nurse Peachvice... Whooaa!"
SPURT...SPLOSH!
"Oh, Doctor..."
"Right, Nurse Peachvice, Mr Thithy. Give him a good shake and see if anything happens."
"Mr Thithy... Mr Thithy!" No reaction, Doctor. He's still all blue, his tongue's hanging out and he's gone cross-eyed."
"Hmmm. We must try and revive him. If he croaks it could mean bad P.R."
"Mr Thithy... Mt Thithy!"
"Nurthe Peachvithe! It'th me! Mr Thithy! I appear to be fwoating above you near the ceiling. I don't think you can hear me. I can thee mythelf on the table... all blue... gulp!"
"Nurse Peachvice, We need to take drastic action. A significant shock to the nervous system is the only thing that will revive Mr Thithy. I want you to sit on his face."
"Yes, Doctor."
"That's it. Lower the cleft of your bottom right across his nostrils, then squirm around a lot."
"Oh yes, Doctor."
"Anything happening?"
"Anything happening? I'm getting the betht thihty action I've ever had and I'm too bwown bwead to enjoy it. Nurthe Peachvithe'th botty cheekth are thquirming on my face bigthtyle. And I'm having to watch from the theiling..."
"Nurse Peachvice. Mr Thithy needs more stimulation. Squirm harder while simultaneously tweaking his nipples and sucking his tinkle. That should do something."
"Oh yes, Doctor..."
"I can't bewieve it! Thucking, thquirming and tweaking... Eek!"
"Any reaction, Nurse Peachvice?"
"Gasp, pant, afraid not, Doctor."
"Oh well... win some, lose some. What's for lunch?"
I Wrote Your Name In The Sand
I wrote your name in the sand.
with my eager, trembling hand.
I felt the sand sigh and the sea submit,
as I wrote your name in the sand.
The tide seemed reluctant to turn,
and shell fragments cut into my hand.
Time deferred. In the beginning was the word;
Governess X in the sand.
Babula!
Igor Babydoll Diary
"It is a filthy night here in Thithyelvania. The coach and four driver has refused to go any farther at this time of night. We must stay tonight at The Potty And Pendulum, the last place of refuge before the Dratsucgge pass and beyond that the Castle Babula!
I can just make out its distant ominous shape through the mist and failing light. But now the darkness thickens and congeals around us like left over egg custard.
Was I wise to undertake this mission of mercy for my lovely Governess X? Count Babula's cry for help seemed genuine enough. The last of his blood, and milk, line the lonely but capricious Count expressed his desire to serve my beautiful mistress. In return his mysterious castle would be hers. And I, Igor Babydoll, am charged with arranging this transaction.
Bang bang!
"Come in."
"It's only the inn keeper, Master Babydoll. Here, put this around your neck to protect you."
"What is it, a crucifix?"
"No, a dummy. There's some who say strange forces are at work when night falls around these parts. Beautiful buxom women are discovered in the mornings... Discovered... totally drained. Drained of..."
"Blood?"
"No, milk!"
"Good heavens! But I'm not a buxom woman, and how will the dummy protect me?"
"Well, you're certainly not a woman, Master Babydoll. But anyone with nipples is fair game for... the creature. There's some who say it goes for anything resembling a teat. Everyone used to comment on Mondo the blacksmith's man boobs. But not any more. Not since they found what was left of him... like a shrivelled husk! His man boob nipples sucked to shreds. All the juices gone. Imagine, man boob nipples sucked to shreds! There's a sight.
"Now you put that dummy around your neck. The creature might sink its needle sharp teeth into that, rather than your raspberry ripples. At least you'll have time to scream.
"Sleep well, Master Babydoll. Sleep well."
"Gulp!"***
Igor Babydoll Diary...
I write this as I travel in the coach and four to Castle Babula. I hardly slept last night. Thoughts of the creature filled my mind. Terrible visions of grown men sucked inside out through their man boobs! All the milk, juice and essence gone. Man boobs sucked out by the roots!
But here we are at Castle Babula. Such an edifice! A domed roof shaped like a breast, and what is that inscription in the wrought iron..."Abandon Hope All Milkmen Who Enter Here."
Hmmm.
Well, on with the job. I'll ring the bell and see if anyone's home.
Bong!
"Oohh"
The heavy metal castle doors swung open. And in the flickering candle light a shadowy sinister figure loomed in the distance. Babula, with three inch long yellow incisors, ghastly green complexion, and rotting, filthy Victorian frilly night dress. It was obvious to Igor Babydoll that he wasn't meeting your average adult baby.
"Welcome, Master Babydoll. My name is Babula... Count Babula."
"Oh, Count Babula... I see you're apparently hovering twelve inches off the floor. That's a clever trick. Are you a fan of David Blaine?"
"You toy with me, Master Babydoll..."
"Woooooo!" a terrible howl echoed through the grim castle.
"Count Babula... What was that?"
"Ahh, children of the night. What music they make. The spider spins the web for the unwary fly. The milk is the life, Mr Babydoll. Hahaha! Hahaha!" Count Babula laughed... laughed black insect laughter that served some obscure function of orientation like a bat's squeak.
"Children of the night, Count?"
"You shall meet them!"
Three strange presences seemed to form from clouds of swirling mist. In seconds they assumed human form... female human form; full breasted and alluring, with arses like two peaches in a vice.
"May I present my brides, Master Babydoll."
"Oh, er... How nice to er... meet..."
"They have no time for politeness, Master Babydoll. Their precious time is devoted to the practise of every sexual fetish and deviation in the dictionary. Currently, they are researching Coprophilia to Face Sitting. You will be able to assist them in their studies. Take him!"
"No No! Please... Well, er, go on then..."
Before he could protest another word, the brides dragged Igor Babydoll into the bowels of the castle. He was no match for their powerful feminine bodies. In a few moments he found himself naked and bound. Hot, sweating feminine buttocks, firm, supple and milky white, nestled onto his gasping face. He heard the whine of female intestines and sensed the dark, viscous deluge that was about to engulf him. What an interesting way to spend a Tuesday evening.***
Where were we? Oh yes, contemplate the fate of Master Babydoll, despatched by his mistress, Governess X to meet with Count Babula in Thithyelvania. Then suddenly and cruelly seized for extreme sex and humiliation by Babula's nymphomaniac brides; Brides expert in face sitting and the brown arts.
Now read on..."Naked and bound and at the mercy of my beautiful brides, Master Babydoll. Have you anything to say?"
"Uuummphh!"
"Oh yes, I forgot. It's difficult to talk with a full, quivering milky white bottom smothering your face. Ah... the whining of bowels! Was there ever such a fanfare to an act of humiliation. Do your worst, my dears. Take it in turn. And then milk Master Doll dry. I want him alive... but depleted."
"Uuummphh!" Oh the terrible anticipation! Gasping for breath under the warm, moist botty flesh. Nostrils and lips sensing the imminent deluge... The stench, the mess, the humiliation!"Another cup of tea, Vicar?"
"Well, go on then, Governess. I must be off soon, but not before I thank you again for the sterling work you do as head of The Women's Institute. Your presence at the church fete on Saturday will ensure the event is a great success. Not least because of your delightful cream cakes. And thank you for offering to make a special batch for sale at the fete. Everyone comments on your cream... Quite unique! You must have a special recipe."
"Yes, the cream I use is... very special. But I have well-disciplined suppliers and I'll "crack the whip" as they say to make sure there's enough for Saturday's batch."
"Oh, excellent. And I pray Master Babydoll is in good health?"
"Oh yes, he's in eastern Europe at the moment."
"I see. Well, foreign travel can be a messy business. I'll look forward to his return. Goodbye Governess."
"Goodbye, Vicar.""Hose Master Babydoll down, my brides, then throw him in the dungeon. I have chartered a ship. We leave for Todmorden By The Sea tomorrow evening..."
***
It was a beautiful summer's afternoon in Todmorden By The Sea. The sun shone, the birds sang. The music of Elgar drifted from the Victorian park bandstand, occasionally punctuated by the crack of cork on willow as the local cricket team played to victory on the village green.
This pastoral idyll was echoed in the kitchen of Governess X. With the help of her friend Mistress Lori, she was preparing a batch of her very special cream cakes for the forthcoming village fete. On the kitchen table sponge and home made jam were prepared to Mrs Beaton perfection. On the kitchen floor a dozen or so kneeling sissy baby slaves masturbated wildly to deliver the "special" cream.
Governess X and Mistress Lori favoured the carrot and stick approach. A good strapping for those sissy babies who failed to deliver the required amounts. And the incentive of a face sitting for the more productive to spur them on to even greater deliveries.
Copious amounts of cream were required. All part of the Governess's world domination plan. Suckled from her breasts, her sissy babies delivered a very special creamy. Once they had consumed the cream in a cake, happy eaters were slowly but surely enslaved.
Elgar, cricket, wanking sissy babies, flogging, face sitting. Yes, a perfect pastoral afternoon.
Meanwhile, out on the ocean the storm battered ship of count Babula sailed closer to Todmorden By The Sea. In the hold, Babula asleep in his cot and Master Babydoll still in cruel grip of Babula's evil brides. Their orders to smother and suck him being carried out to the letter.
"One more sucking, Master Babydoll, then I may allow you to pull my panties out of the crack of my arse with your teeth. Ha ha ha!"
"Uurggh!"
Finally, after many days of the precarious crossing, Babula's creaking vessel slipped into the harbor of Todmorden By The Sea. He had arrived to dominate and control. It was Saturday, the day of the church fete. The day of a hundred "creamy" cakes.
Whatever next...
A Couple of Thithy Novelties
Doctor Foster
Doctor Foster went to Gloucester
in a shower of rain.
He changed at Crewe for Todmorden
and never went home again.***
Governess, Mummy
Governess, Mummy, egg custard pie,
turns men into babies and makes them cry.
Their tormented bot-bots are put on display,
It must be that way when they come out to play.
Thithyenthtein!
Governess X Diary,
My Thithyenthtein experiment is now in unchartered territory. Today I transplanted a brain into the end of her tinkle. a brain much more powerful than the simple one in her head. Imagine the conflict!
I consider my first Thithyenthtein masturbation experiment a great success. A gallon and a half of creamy exiting her tinkle at 28.6 miles per hour. The trajectory was a little unfortunate and probably means we won't need to Artex the ceiling again for the next couple of years. And poor Igor babydoll, accidentally standing in the firing line. Oh well, at least Thithyenthtein's debut delivery made a big splash... Literally!
Incredibly, Thithyenthtein continues to grow at an enormous rate. Imagine a Sumo wrestler is a sissy dress. Every hour, gallons of egg custard, oestrogen and pilchards guzzled down. How Igor babydoll struggles to maintain the flow. But now I must sleep.
Schlop, clomp. schlop. clomp.
"Governess! Gasp! It's Thithyenthtein... Gone!
"What?"
"Gone... And all the egg custard gone, too!"
"Quickly, Igor babydoll. We must act. A giant rampant sissy baby with a brain grafted onto her tinkle might attract attention."
Governess and Igor babydoll ran outside into the dank, swirling Todmorden mist. There, in the distance, the shape of a Sumo wrestler wearing a sissy dress could be seen lumbering into the darkness.
"Igor babydoll. have you any idea where Thithyenthtein might be going?"
"Well, Governess, last night I was reading her a bed time story. A story about a magical place filled with egg custard and nappies..."
"You mean Boots?"
"Yes, Governess."
"Hurry, attach the horses to the Landau. Fetch the net and tranquilizer gun, We might be able to catch her."
Twenty minutes later.
"Curses! It's too late, Governess. Look at that yonder hole in the wall of Boots. It's the exact shape of Thithyenthtein. And look! A trail of disposable nappies heading towards the marshes. Empty bottles of egg custard scattered everywhere..."
"We must act quickly before the villagers arrive with their pitchforks and torches. Go to that waste skip, get some empty lager cans and White Lightning bottles. Scatter them around the nappies. The villagers will blame the hoodies for the damage. We have a more important task... Find Thithyenthtein!"
"Yes, Governess... But look..!"
In the distance on the treacherous marshes, a giant sissy shape could be made out, silhouted against the moonlight. A terrible sound emitted; A sound to curdle blood and egg custard.
"Tewwytubieth, tewwytubieth, Egg Cuthtard, Waagghh!"
"Quickly, Igor babydoll. There's not a moment to lose..."Whatever next?
***
Governess Diary:
My project is almost complete! Thithyenthtein awaits to be jolted into life. Thithyenthtein, constructed from the best "bits" of sissies who have come to me for sissy salvation. Their sacrifice will not be wasted!
My perfect sissy baby with perfect sissy baby attributes; a pea-sized brain, a tiny tinkle, a specially enlarged sphincter to accommodate extra wide enema tubes! And her sissy baby mind... The male mind rendered down to that of a dependant helpless sissy baby. A sissy baby who must beg my permission for everything. A specially constructed sissy baby who's only purpose is to receive abject suffering, pain and humiliation.
Tonight there is a terrible storm brewing over Todmorden. Tonight my faithful slave Igor Babydoll will raise the conductor through the nursery roof and several million volts from a lighting flash will jerk my Thithyenthtein into life... A life of subservience and horribly messy nappies.
There is no time for further writing. Thithyenthtein still requires frontal lobotomy surgery to perfect her "lithp" Her brain cortex needs to be flooded with images off frillies and nappies. Pavlovian responses need to be implanted so that Thithyenthtein responds only to my perfect and hypnotic voice.
Outside, the storm is brewing... the storm is brewing...
"Igor Babydoll!"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Igor Babydoll, open the nursery roof and raise the conductor. Attach the conductor wires to the nut and bolt holding Thithyenthtein'th head on.
"Yes, Mistress."
"Now, throw the switch to make the circuit. Just one bolt of lightning is all we need."
"Igor Babydoll, why are you dragging your foot?"
"Well, Mistress, that's what Igor does in the films. I'm just trying to make things more authentic."
"Hmmm."
"Mistress! A massive bolt of lightning... Stand back!"
WHOOSH! BOOM! SIZZLE!
"Look Igor Babydoll, see how Thithyenthtein twitches and glows. Is she alive?"
"Twitching and glowing nicely, but still brain dead, Mistress."
"I have an idea. Catch Thithyenthtein'th foreskin in a zip fastener, then wire the zip fastener to the conductor. The lightning voltage plus the agony of a trapped foreskin should do the trick."
"Attaching zip fastener to foreskin, Mistress. Nasty... very nasty."
"Igor Babydoll, the storm is building again... Here goes!'
WHOOSH! BOOM! SIZZLE!
"YAROO! WAAAAGHHH! OH **** MY THITHY FORETHKIN"TH ON FIRE!"
"Thithyenthtein lives, Mistress. Success!"***
The terrible Todmorden marshes. The mist, the fog, the quicksand and bottomless pits. And for those who stumble across it, the River Thithy! Some say its dark and serpentine course stretches beyond the marshes into Cambodia.
Into this alien territory has stumbled Thithyenthtein, the marvelous creation of Governess X. Thithyenthtein, built from bits and bobs of sacrificed sissies. Thithyenthtein and her terrible lusts for egg custard and nappies. Thithyenthtein, run amok!
And in hot pursuit Governess X and Igor babydoll, desperate to return Thithyenthtein to the safe confines of the laboratory.
"Governess, look! Giant footprints and splatters of egg custard. Thithyenthtein must have passed this way. Over there, in the mist. A rustic type chewing a straw. I'll ask him if he's seen Thithyenthtein.
"Excuse me, rustic type. Have you seen a giant, crazed thithy?"
"Well... That's for me to know... And you to find out. Heheheheheh! It be said that a giant thithy does wander these parts. There is a legend that when the mist is low and the moon is high, the terrible thithy howl can be heard round about."
"Legend? Thithyenthtein's only been missing half an hour."
"That's as may be. I just tend my sheep and minds me own business. But if I was a man of learning, Gaffer, I'd say follow the River Thithy. But then again, I just tend my sheep. The ways of sophisticated folk aren’t for the likes of me. I just...”
“We know; tend your sheep.”
And so Governess X and Igor babydoll headed for the mysterious River Thithy. In the distance, bursts of napalm exploded against clusters of palm trees and someone was playing an old Doors album very loudly.
"I have to play it loudly to drown out the noise of those helicopters!"
"Sorry."
Eventually, Governess X and Igor babydoll found the River Thithy. Evidence of Thithyenthtein was everywhere. Local tribes people had taken to wearing egg custard daubed symbolically on their faces and nappies were the new height of fashion.
Discovering a boat, Governess X and Igor babydoll headed up river, convinced they were hot on the trail. Suddenly, on the river bank they spotted a strange man sporting long hair and a bandana. A Marlboro dangled from his mouth as he furtively searched his pockets for a match. Governess X made the opening gambit.
"I am Governess X and I am seeking my runaway Thithyenthtein. Have you seen her?
"Oh wow! Faaaarr Out! Thithyenthtein! Like, she's a philosopher, Man, a poet. the things she says, like... The middle word in Thithy is "It". Faaarr Out, Baby!"
"Yes, but have you seen her?"
"Sure, like er, just up river in the ruined temple. "It" Far out! Say, you don't have any egg custard, do you? Just a couple of grams..."
Governess X and Igor babydoll could see the temple in the distance. a strange glow emitted through the cracks in the ancient Todmorden/Cambodian/Aztec/Mayan stones. Thithyenthtein was close... Real close...
"We must proceed carefully, Igor babydoll. Follow me and stay close."
They entered the crumbling temple. The shadowy figure of Thithyenthtein seemed oblivious to their presence. she gorged on egg custard while her tinkle brain read from a collection of T.S.Eliot.
"We are the hollow thithieth..."
"Quickly, Igor baby doll! The tranquilizer gun and the net! She's in a state of hyper egg custard shock. We need to act quickly."
"Bang! Slump!
Thithyenthtein lurched forward. Igor babydoll managed to lift her onto his strong shoulders. His perfectly defined muscles glistening with sweat.
"Hurry, Igor babydoll. To the boat. And we must come back... for that!"
There, in the corner of the temple, a strange glow from an unknowable substance. The Governess and Igor dragged it back to the boat and set off towards home.
***Igor baydoll diary...
It is several months since we found Thithyenthtein and the strange glowing substance. At that time I only had a glimpse of the genius of Governess X and had no knowledge of her plan to transform all our lives for the better.
Now I know that Thithyenthtein had a far greater purpose than I could have ever imagined. For years mankind has sought a cheap, renewable, clean source of energy. Only the lovely and adorable Governess knew that Thithyenthtein's intestines were designed as an organic fusion reactor with egg custard as the fuel. The glowing full nappy discovered in the temple was the first evidence of this fantastic power source.
The Nappy Reactor, designed and patented by Governess X has now been adopted around the globe. As a result, the ice caps are safe, global warming has been reversed, the new egg custard petrol is a penny a litre and the Governess is a billionairess. Thanks to her philanthropy, Thithy United are top of the Premier League and the only team with a nappy sponsor.
As for Thithyenthtein, she still glugs down gallons of egg custard to create the "Raw Material" for the fusion reactor.
And my diary? Well, it's a great device to tie up all the loose ends in a story in a fairly concise and naturalistic way.
Anyone for egg custard?THE END
Runway!
"Oh dear, what a shame. Sharon Fitbody has been taken ill and can't be in the school fashion show. She was going to model the bridal wear and lingerie. Now I'll have to find a replacem.."
"Pleath, Mith, I'd like to take Tharon'th pwathe in the fathion thow."
"That's amazing! I was only thinking out loud and you heard me from fifty feet away. But wait a minute... You're a boy. You couldn't possibly model the bridal wear and lingerie."
"Pleath, Mith, Mummy thayth it'th vewy important to vowunteer for evewything at thcool to ethpand my expewienthe of life."
"But you're a boy!"
"Pweath, Mith, Mummy thayth that according to the Euwopean Charter Of Human Wightth, I have the full weight of the law behind me in defending my wighth to be tweated equally, wegardweth of gender."
"Oh God!"
"Ladeez n' Genulmen... Wearing a lovely swishy white taffeta wedding gown... Please welcome..."
"HURRAH, CLAP, WHISTLE!"
Later...
"What a lovely surprise... Not only a trophy for the best boxer in the school, but now one for the best model. We might need a bigger shelf to put them on soon."
"Thank you, mummy. Thport and the artth... I think it'th important to be a wenaiththanthe (renaissance) thithy, jutht like you taught me. I owe it all to you."
"Absolutely."
Mummy Is The Light
When I am anxious and filled with stress
I slip into a nappy and my pink satin dress.
As my tinkle grows hard and my thoughts regress
I dream of lovely mummy and her gentle caress.
I imagine her voice, such a beautiful sensation,
her commands overwhelm me, pain, humiliation.
Whatever the shame, I'm compelled to obey,
Mummy is the light, the goddess, the way.
And when my body is limp and I'm gasping for breath
in a moment of ecstasy, a little death.
I feel her presence and hear myself say,
Mummy is the light, the goddess, the way.
The Eye of The Tiger
"Oh no! Just half an hour to go before the start of the inter schools' boxing championship and our best hope, Tiger Thompson, has gone down with a virus. We've never beaten Boredstiff Comprehensive and Thompson was our best chance. Well, we can't lose face, the school pride is at stake. Someone else will have to take his place.
"You, boy! yes, you... the soppy one!"
"Pweathe, thir, me thir?"
"Yes, you the Nancy Boy, always fiddling with your hair. Now's your chance to prove you're not a pansy. Get your kit on and some boxing gloves. I'm putting you up against Mad Dog Malone from Boredstiff Comprehensive. You'll get beaten to a bloody pulp, but you can prove you have the moral fibre to go down fighting."
"Pweath thir, Mummy thayth I muthn't get invowved in contact thportth. Mummy thayth my thkin ith too dewicate. Mummy thayth I mutht moithturithe my thkin twithe a..."
"Silence, boy. I'm your Mummy now! Get them gloves on."
"Eek, gulp!"
Twenty minutes later.
"Ladeez n' genulmun. In the blue corner... Fifteen fights, fifteen knockouts, from Boredstiff Comprehensive... the undefeated Mad Dog "Sissy Killer" Malone! And in the pink corner..."
"Right boy, here's your big moment. You haven't got a chance, but you can save the pride of the school. When the bell goes, get out there, get stuck in! The left hook, the upper cut, one two in the bread basket, kiss kiss, bang bang!"
"Er, yeth thir... the Captain Hook, the fwuit bathket, kith kith, night night... Yeth thir..."
BONG!
"GRRRRRR! I HATE SISSIES!"
"Eek!"
THUD, CRASH!
"Uuugh."
A few days later.
"Well, I can't believe it. My little sissy the inter schools' boxing champion and a nice trophy to put in the nursery. Just how did you do it"
"Well, you alwayth know betht, Mummy. Jutht before the bell rang I wath moithturithing my thkin, jutht like you showed me. Mad Dog ran acroth to beat the living cwap out of me and thlipped on a bwob of my Oil of Ulay I'd thpilt. He bashed hith head on the corner potht and knocked himthelf out. I won by default. Mummy, I owe it all to you and the wovewy moithturithing woutine that you taught me."
"And will you continue boxing?"
"I don't think tho, Mummy. It's betht to quit while you're on top and give thomeone elthe a chance."
"What a thoughtful little sissy."
Hail Governess
Hail Governess, full of grace
please stretch your panties over my face
so I may may breath your perfect scent
until my tinkle is empty and spent.
Play with us sinners now and at the moment of our creamy.
Anon
Governess Prayer
Our Mummy, who art in Todmorden
Governess be thy name.
Thy nursery come
Thy will be done
On earth as it is in Todmorden.
Give us this day our Daily Demands
And punish our trespasses
As we like that kind of thing.
Lead us into temptation
And deliver us from Vanilla.
For thine is the nursery
The nappy and the frillies
For ever and ever.
Anon
Thithy In Thpathe ~ What the cwiticth thaid:
"Thpinechilling... I went to the toilet in my nappy. But then I like that kind of thing." THE DAILY THITHY"Thpinechilling... I went to the toilet in someone else's nappy. But then I like that kind of thing." THE THITHY EXPWETH
"Wath it my nappy?" THE DAILY THITHY
"Pothibwy. It wath quite dark in there." THE THITHY EXPWETH***
Thithy In Thpathe
"Control to Sissy Astronaut. Are you in orbit?"
"Thithy Athtwonaut to Contwol. I fink tho. There are wots of nithe pwanetth and thpace and thtuff outthide"
Inthide I'd better check my tinkwe thuvived bwatht off intact. I'll have a quick wook in my nappy. Ooh it'th much bigger in thpathe... And it thtandth up more. It'th thmaller and dwoopier on Earth. It mutht be the gwavity. I'd better tetht it'th thtill working. I'll jutht have a quick wa..
"Sissy Astronaut! You left your radio on. What did you just say?"
"Oh er, I'm jutht er... pathing over Jodwell Bank."
"Good. Whatever you do, don't try any sexual acts in space. They could prove fatal."
"Wighto"
What a woad of wubbith. A quick tinkwe tickwe ith good for you. Wight, here we go... Oh no! Ive weft my favouwite Governeth picture in my bedwoom. It won't be the thame unweth I have my favouwite Governeth picture to worthip.
Oh that'th a nithe cointhidenthe. My spathethip ith jutht fwoating patht the Hubbwe Tewethcope. It'th pwobabwy wooking at a Cwab Nebuwa, or thomething. I'll pop out and weawign it tho I can wook down and thee my favouwite Governeth picture thwough my bedwoom window. Here goeth...
Will Thithy Athtronaut weawign the Hubbwe tewethcope?
More thoon...
"Control to Sissy Astronaut. Are you ready for blast off?"
"Thithy Athtronaut to Contwol. Weady for bwatht off."
Oo thith ith exthiting! A twip into thpathe! I'm tho gwad the Governeth, my wovewy mummy, fitted my nappy extwa tight thith mowning befowe I weft fow the waunch pad. They thay my tinkwe wiww incweathe in weight by a factor of ten as the thpathe wocket weacheth ethcape vewothity. Twagicawwy, there won't be a ten timeth incweathe in thithe.
"Three two one..."
"Here goeth!"
KERBOOM... WHOOSH!
"Aaarghh... Mummy... Waaghh. Ooh all my thkin'th being puwwed back ath we accewwewate fathter... Ethpethiawwy my forethkin! It taketh me ten minuteth to get it that good uthually... Waaghh!"
Will Thithy Athtronaut weach orbit with hith/her forethkin intact?
***Two minutes later...
Wovewy, the tewethcope'th aww thet. Ooh... I can thee my bedwoom window... I can thee my favouwite Governeth pictuwe! Huwway!
Here goeth. One thmall tinkwe tickwe for a thithy...
"Control to Sissy Astronaut. As we said, avoid any orbital todger touching at all costs..."
Oh Governeth, my favouwite pictuwe. You wook tho beautifuw... yet tho, gulp, thtwict. Yeth, pant, Governeth, you'we tubing will fwuth it out, rub, fondle. Fwuth it out, gathp. Naughty thithieth muthbt be fwuthed out...thwoon.
"Sissy Astronaut! The computers calculate that the thrust of any ejaculation will blow you out of orbit, straight down a wormhole into the terrible dark void of space for eternity."
...tho thtwict... fwuth it out... gasp... SPLURGE!
"Waaghh... Mummy! I'm being thucked down a pwughowe (Wormhole! It's not rocket science) Mummy! Waaagghhh!"
Oh, I've woken up in my cot. Gothh, It wath aww a dweam. And wooking down at me ith Mummy'th beautifuw fathe.
"Has the little sissy had a bad dream? She obviously needs a good flushing out. We'll get the rubber tubing shall we... and the restraints!"
"Gulp!"***
Ath you may wecall, Thithy Athtronaut was thucked down a wormhole after bowdwy coming in orbit. Now wead the thhock new concluthion...
"Hewp, Mummy, I'm being thucked down a pwughowe. Waagghh."
WHOOSH KERPLUNK!
"Oooh, that'th intwethting. I could have wanded anywhere in the univerthe, but I wecognithe the thurroundingth. Incwedibwy. it appearth to be the Yorkthire/Lancathire border.
What'th that thighn over there? Oh, it thayth 'nedromdoT ot emocleW' Oooh it'th backwardth. That'th odd-evewything ith the thame, but backwardth. I must be in a pawawwew univerthe. What do they call them? That'th it, a doppewwanker.
Not to wowwy. I'm thure I'll thoon be thnuggled up in my nithe warm cot, tewwing wovewy mummy all about my adventureth in thpathe.
Oh there'th the Pwactithe Nurthery. I'll thoon be there. (Walks up to door and knocks) Hmmm. I wath jutht thinking. Thith ith an oppothite univerthe. In the weal univerthe, the governeth is a beautifuw, fwagwant, adowabwe, feminine woman.
That meanth in thith oppothite univerthe the governeth..."(door opens)
"Is a big, 'orrible, ugly, diseased, smelly bloke! You guessed right Thithy Athtronaut!"
"Eeek!"
"I know of your governess. Her beauty is legendary throughout the universe. However, it's all back to front on this planet. Ugly, hairy blokes with terrible arm pits are considered to be quite a dish.
I am THE GOVERNOR and you will be my sissy slave.
Now... bend over and I think we'll have that nappy down. Like I said, it's all back to front on this planet."
"Eeek, no. Waagghh"
They both lived happily ever after in a back to front kind of way.***
DVD style alternative ending...
"Ooh, I've popped out of the pwughowe... and I can't bewieve it, I'm jutht up the woad fwom The Pwactithe Nurthery. I can be thnuggwed up in my cot in a few minuteth, tewwing Mummy about my adventuweth.
Hmm? That'th intewethting. Evewything wookth diffewent thomehow. Oh that nithe a gwoup of men with pitchfowkth and towcheth are coming towardth me. I'll athk them what'th happening.
"Excuthe me, kind thirth. I'm twying to find the wovewy Governeth. I am Thithy Athtronaut and I was thucked down a pwughowe. I weft pwanet earth in two thouthand and thix."
"Aye? is that so... all prim and proper in your frilly knickers. Well this is eighteen eighty six and we don't like sissies round these parts. Jethro! tell Snaggledtoothed Seth to fetch the manacles. We've found us another one..."
"Oh dear..."
Luckily Thithy Athronaut escaped the mob, but spent the rest of his life incarcerated in a Victorian asylum where everyday he was "examined" very deeply by large, uncompromising nurses who wore starched uniforms and stank of carbolic soap.
Oh well, that's life.
Thithy Detective
A cwathic Cowvette Thtingway, cuthtomithed to wook wike a victowian pewambuwater, thwertheth to a hawt on the gravel. Thithy Detective weaps out and wutheth to the cwime thene. A beautifuw wady openth the door...
"Come in Sissy Detective. Thank heavens you're here. A terrible robbery has been committed."
"I thee. In that cathe, I need to inthpect your underwear drawer."
"But Sissy Detective, the thieves didn't go in my bedroom."
"Are you quethtioning my methodth?"
"Of courthe...of course not."
Thithy Detective ruthed into the bedroom and opened the underwear drawer. hith unthwerving gathe examined the carefuwwy wayered awway of thatin fwillieth.
"Phwoar! Pink thatin pantieth...Gulp! From Ann Thummerth!"
"Have you found any clues, Sissy Detective?"
"Pothibwy. I, er, need to take thethe pantieth away for... fowenthic analythith. I, er, need to examine them in the wabowatowy with my thpecial pwobe."
"Your special probe? what does that do?"
"Er... "
Fwuthtwation
"Oh, Sissy Katie, you look adorable. Your little nappy peeking out from the hem of your satin dress... and that frilly bonnet! Mummy's going to give you an extra special treat today."
"An extwa thpethial tweat, Mummy?"
"Yes. But feel assured that along with the pleasure there will be just as much humiliation and pain."
"Gulp!"
"Yes, Sissy, you're going to be flushed out with my new extra long and thick rubber enema tube. It probes deeply... very deeply!"
"Drool!"
And then we'll have that nappy down for twenty or so strokes with the thick heavy strap. We'll soon have that sissy bottom glowing red as you struggle hopelessly against the creaking restraints. I love to hear your lisping pleas for mercy."
"Gasp!"
"But first, Sissy, my breasts... Look at my breasts!"
"Ooohhh!"
"Yes, they're beautiful aren't they?"
"Oohh, yeth Mummy!"
"Oh, they feel so full, so sensitive, and the nipples so red, so proud, so erect.
Do you want to worship my proud, erect nipples, Sissy? Do you want to suckle and worship?"
"Oh yeth, Mummy! Thuckwe and worthip... yeth, Mummy."
"Well, you're going to suck and suckle until your sissy cheeks implode. Are you ready to suckle, sissy?"
"Yeth, Mummy. Pweath, Mummy. I'm weady to thuckwe!"
"DDRRIIINNNGGG!"
"Oh no, not again. Evewy time I'm having a wovewy ewotic dweam about Mummy, I alwayth wake up jutht ath thingth get intewethting. I wath jutht about to thuckwe and the awarm cwock went off.
I know! I'll thtay awake for two or thwee dayth. Then I'll fall athweep and stay athweep. Then I can thuckwe for hourth. Yum yum!"
(Three sleepless days later)
"Oh, I'm tho tired. I'm thure to thweep for hourth now and have nithe long dweamth about Mummy and thuckwing untiw my cheekth impwode. Here goeth...
Yawn... Zzzzzzzzzzzzz
"Welcome, Sissy Katie, to World of Cardboard. I'm sure you'll be happy working in the world's biggest cardboard factory.
"Cardboard is an important...blah blah blah..."
Regression
"Are you relaxed, Sissy?"
"Uuhh... Zzzz... Yawn...Yeth, Mummy."
"Good. I'm taking you back... back to your early school days. Did you enjoy school?"
"Zzzz... Oh yeth, Mummy. My favouwite thubject was cweative movement."
"Creative movement?"
"Yeth, Mummy. Aw my fwiendth would form a thircle awound me and throw large rockth at my feet while shouting, 'Danthe, you thoft thithy bathtard.'
I'll alwayth be gwateful for their kind encouwagement."
"Hmmm. Where you allowed pets as a child?"
"Zzzz... Yeth, Mummy."
"A puppy, or a gerbil?"
"Zzzz, no, Mummy... A tape worm."
"A tape worm?"
"Zzzz... Yeth, Mummy. I never actuawy thaw it. Zzzz... but we were very clothe and it went everywhere with me... Untiw...blub blub..."
"Yes, until what?"
"Zzzz... Untiw...blub blub... the stwict nurthe came to ...sob... fwush it out!"
"Hmmm. Now we're getting somewhere..."
Be Nithe To Youw Forethkin
Be nithe to youw forethkinit liveth upon youw tinkwe.
One minute it'th thtretched out nithe and tight
the next it'th in a wrinkwe.
Give it a hug, thome TLC
it doethn't athk for much
keeping the dwaught out of the todger
dangwing fwom youw cwotch.
Buy it a tweat, a cweaming wattwe
or a tinkwe bow.
Or a makeover with wipthtick and wouge
and watch your forethkin gwow!
Then youw forethkin will know that you wove itAnd in the darkneth of youw nappy
you'll feew it thwob and unduwate
to keep you and youw tinkwe happy!
Just a Moment
I think we'll begin with the dress, bonnet and panties
then din-dins in the feeding chair.
Foot worship, then a flogging with the heaviest tawse
on that milky white bottom all bare.
The creaming rattle will jingle out every last drop
until your tinkle flops limp in your crotch.
But we'll wait just a moment, mummy's lady friends are arriving
they've expressed quite an interest to watch...
Lovely Mummy
I submit, lovely mummy, I have no choice
when I hear my sentence spoken by your voice
I will eat all my din-dins and sit in the chair
obedient and submissive
while you shave off my hair.
I submit, lovely mummy, when I hear your command
to prepare for my flogging and I feel your hand
taking down my nappy to bare the flesh
for the suffering of the strap
oh, its terrible caress.
I submit, lovely mummy, with my botty aflame
restrained and gagged and squirming in pain
I submit to my torture inflicted through leather
Mummy's nappied sissy pain slave
for ever and ever.
Ode To Governeth X
Dethtiny dewivered me to Governeth XShe thpoke with her voithe
and thteamed up my thpecth.
She entered my thoul and athumed contwolof evewy bwain thell, thought and hole.
Now in nappy and fwillies and compwetewy wegwethedI worthip wovwy Mummy, Governeth X.
Thankyou Mummy, I am bwethed.
Thithy Katie Arrives at GovernessX
"Haven't you finished yet, sissy? Get on with it."
"Yeth, mummy, thorry, mummy,"
Dear reader, for the past hour or so mummy has ordered me to sit in her period wooden school desk and complete my account of my first attendance at The Practice. For this is the first part of my second attendance and what better way to prepare my sissy mind for the ordeal to come than to dredge up my memories of suffering and shame.Needless to say, before being ordered to the desk, mummy inspected my legs to ensure they had been shaved clean of hair. Then she fitted me with my nappy, frilly panties and sissy dress. And, like a chastised Victorian school child, while writing my account I have been made to wear a tall conical, pointed dunce's cap; So shaming... so humiliating!
Mummy is wearing her School Mistresses mortar board and is patrolling the space behind me in close proximity. her tall heels clicking on the floor, punctuating the silence. Mummy has the perfect cure for 'Writer's Block' should it occur. A vicious stroke with her school cane across the top of my frilled bottom ensures inspiration returns to the pen. Occasionally mummy inspects me and my literary efforts as one would inspect an insect in a jar, studying its habits, observing its condition.
A quick glance over my shoulder and I see my immediate future laid out before me like stepping stones of suffering, an archipelago of mummy's instruments of agony and humiliation, just awaiting my sissy presence within their terrible manacles and restraints. The feeding chair awaits me, as does the barber's cape, unfolded and seemingly impatient to be fitted. My sissy cock stiffens at the thought. What hair has grown back since my last clipping must be shaved to the skin and, mummy has informed me that following this a new beautiful frilly adult baby bonnet of lace and satin will be fitted. "Fankoo, mummy! fankoo."The creaming rattle is on view, preparing to accompany the shame of my delivery of mummy's cream with its mocking jangle. As ominous as a guillotine in a prison yard, the punishment box awaits my quivering submissive presence on its terrible contours of suffering. Mummy's thick strap hangs close by, eager to renew its intimate acquaintance with the bared, mortified flesh of my sissy arse. And sitting close by, the plastic potty, perfectly positioned to collect and conserve the reservoir of drool that will soon be dripping from my horribly gagged and distorted mouth.
And, of course, waiting in the wings the writhing nests of screaming nerve endings, ants and scorpions, desperate to reprise their grotesque subcutaneous death agony dance before being burned alive at the stake on my blazing bottom. Oh, the terrible nerve ending insects! Biting and burrowing into the botty flesh and fat! How mummy's strap will make them squirm and sizzle in the inferno!
"Sissy. Stop writing and get in the chair now."
"Yeth, mummy, fankoo, mummy."
Gentle reader, I have but few words left. From now on you must imagine my suffering and shame as I once again submit to my beautiful mummy. My beautiful mummy who has taught me the meaning of pain and humiliation within the walls of The Practice. My beautiful mummy who holds the mortgage on my flesh and the lease on my soul.
Outside, light submits to dark in the late November afternoon. Northern England rain lashes down from a slate grey sky. The stark backdrop hills to The Practice, stoic and impassive, absorb nature's cruelty, accepting of the natural order of things.
Inside, "Thithy" Katie, a ridiculous sissy in a nappy and frilly dress submits to the restraints of the chair and the tight fitting of the barber's cape. Mummy's clippers drone into life. The sissy bows her head for the shaving, thinks of the shame and suffering to come, bursts into tears and tells her beautiful mummy she loves her.
