She awoke to the sound she had come to dread. In an instant, the sheets were flung off the bed while the timer counted down from 600. Numbers were a difficult subject for her vapid sex filled brain to decipher anymore. All she cared for was pleasing Sir.
She had laid out her attire the night before, as she did every evening, in an attempt to save herself valuable seconds the following morning. The timer read 550 as she plucked the panties from their hanger. The display of her clothing was just as important to Sir as when it adorned her feminine body. The slippery satin sent a chill down her spine while the white lace tickled her thighs. They had a special naughtiness only those most intimate with her would come to realize.
Next came the garter and thigh highs. Eagerly she slid them up her hairless legs until it settled into place around her waist. Early into her training, she found it difficult for them to remain in place. Fortunately for her, Master had an answer to every problem. The special vitamins given to her each morning made sure her derriere and hips grew outward to further accentuate her beautiful form.
The corset was a permanent fixture of her appearance. Its unforgiving strain had already reduced her waist by a frightful six inches. She had to be mindful of its presence, as short successive breaths were now involuntary. The days of filling her lungs with a deep breath, or performing any strenuous activity were a forlorn memory. Daring so would risk fainting, or worse.
The brassiere quickly became her favorite article of clothing for the relief it so eagerly provided her petite frame. It didn’t take long for the vitamins to expand her bosom to a back breaking 28G. Sir had always insisted she take the natural path to femininity. As such, implants were strictly forbidden. Her mammaries were a trophy of His to display, and a warning to those that cross His path. She adored playing with them. Their sensitive areolas stood at attention as she tweaked them in the mirror. Her panties now wet with the lust for Sir to…
The timer chirped as it read 300. Had she really wasted so much time fondling her breasts? Her vacuous head hastened to finish in time for her Master. Failure was never a pleasant experience for her. He demanded absolute perfection from his girl, yet had drained her of wit so He could teach her His ways, and she loved the lessons Sir taught her. Oh how she loved when she was brought to her knees and…
200 left. She quickly pulled the petticoat up and secured it at the waist. Its many layers of cotton and chiffon trimmed in lace gave her the dainty prissy look He so admired. She twirled while admiring herself in the mirror. She loved how it bounced with each step and provided passerby’s a peak underneath when she bent over.
150 to go. Almost ready, she confided in herself. The dress lowered from above as she stretched her arms skyward. It was masterfully crafted to her exacting proportions. Sir demanded each article of clothing shape her body to perfection, and the dress was the crown jewel of her ensemble. Today’s was brilliantly white and featured layers of glittery tulle, metallic lace bodice, and a darling heart cutout at the back, and a preciously cute satin sash secured with a bow. Why you ask? Why would any girl wear an elegantly adorable, made to measure white dress?
100. The timer continued on. The matching opera gloves were slipped into place on her dainty and silky smooth arms. The electrolysis made that an ever lasting certainty.
80. The collar was locked around her neck. The tag, front and center, read ‘Pathetic Pansy’. It sent jubilant shivers down her spine each time she heard the words. Certainly a pavlovian response by now.
60. The heels were displayed to her for the first time. An overtly feminine pair of sparkling white ankle strap 5” heels ensured she was seen with each step as their bells announced each mincing step she would soon take. The locking latches ensured her dainty gait late into the evening without remit.
50 seconds. The machine worked feverishly as a cloud of makeup and hairspray engulfed her head while it masterfully primped and pampered her into a thing of feminine beauty. Mascara, blush, lipstick, foundation, and eye shadow. It was all done to His exacting standards, just as it was every morning.
30 seconds. While the makeup continued in haste, her nails were encased in acrylic and masterfully painted in pink. They were a thing of elegance and perfectly contrasted next to her white dress.
10 seconds. Without hesitation, a phallic object thrust into her pillowly lips. A moan escaped her lips as it slid past her tongue and teased the back of her throat. She was no stranger to objects in her orifice, and had experienced this one enough times to know it was an exact replica of His. She couldn’t speak a word, and yet she still murmured ‘Thank you, Sir.’ out of respect and adoration for her Master.
Lastly came the veil adorned with pearl clusters to form tiny flowers on the two-tier pencil-edge tulle. It affixed to her hair and teased the small of her back with its length. She had only seen them in pictures until just now. Any anxiety she may have had was subsequently placated with its presence. She now knew, without doubt, what today’s special occasion was.
As the timer expired, she sashayed over to her pedestal located at the foot of the bed and waited for Him. The jewel encrusted gag brilliantly sparkled between her seductively parted lips. He was sure to ravage her, she mused. She quickly found her form once atop the pedestal. Feet together, hands at her side and fingers splayed outward just as she had been taught so many months ago.
Once the door opened and He entered she masterfully performed her required curtsy. Placing one foot behind the other, she bent her knees and pulled the hem of the dress outward while bowing her head. She didn’t dare look at him while performing her submissive duty.
Sir studied her for a moment to admire the beauty that stood before him. Months of work had led to this moment. She had endured so much to reach this point. Her mind and body were ready. The trials and tribulations had all been worth it, she could see that now.
As his hand caressed her cheek, she wanted nothing more than to submit fully to Him, her Master. She desperately wanted to tell him as such, yet the gag ensured she remain in demure silence.
“Are you ready?” He asked with a passionate lust only a real man could attain.
She nodded as her innocent doey eyes took in the most handsomely dressed man she had ever seen. Her sex dripped with desire at what was soon to come.
“Then take my hand, Sasha. Lets make you mine forever.”
Her dainty and soft fingers grasped his burly hand. The soft satin gloves made her feel like a proper woman, if just this once. As He helped her down from the pedestal on which she stood, the sissy could feel the last remnant of her previous life twitch in her panties as a small pool dribbled from its tip. Thank goodness, she thought, Sir had the presence of mind for her to wear a liner this wondrous day.