MY FEMINIZATION DIARY - feminization of myself

more feminization stories and a new design

FORCED FEMINIZATION STORIES a whole new set and more are to be come. And I've also changed the design. Aah, and don't forget to subscribe, if you love it ;)

Gloria - 4. At the Opera

It took them about 15 minutes to get to the opera house, which was on the upper part of “Unter den Linden”, close to the city palace of the Kaiser, which Aunt Margaret pointed out to him. He found the palace very impressive, but Aunt Margaret laughed and said “I would not want to live there. They don’t even have any bathtubs.”
Just before they halted beside the opera house, Aunt Margaret dabbed a little perfume on his shoulders and behind his ears. It was a fresh, flowery smell, quite different from Aunt Margaret’s own perfume, which was heavier, sweet and seductive. When they finally stopped in a long row of other carriages, Aunt Margaret urged him to hurry.
“Let’s go directly to my box, we are just in time. We shall meet our friends there.”

He hurried as best as he could in his tight skirts through a crowd of elegantly dressed people. Everybody seemed to rush and hurry. He had had the same impression before when he had come from the train and as they drove through the city. It seemed as if everybody in Berlin always was in a hurry.
They were expected in front of the Box by an elegant couple. He was about 30 or 32 years old, almost six feet tall, and very masculine. He had a thick moustache, with the tips twirled upwards in the latest fashion. She was a little younger, maybe 25, a real beauty with a slim build, about 5’ 6”, wearing a beautiful gown in golden velvet. Her bare shoulders were framed by a ruffle of narrowly pleated silk taffeta of the same color, which started at her bosom and went all around, forming a V in the back, and continuing all the way down where it formed a formidable train. She had a really slim waist. She must have been laced down to about 19 or 20 inches at the most, which contrasted vividly with her full bosom and hips.
“Gloria, meet my very good friends, Mr. Karl Becker and his friend Coco and here, my dear Karl and Coco, is Gloria, my niece.”
Everybody murmured something and he managed a deep curtsey appropriate for a young girl without any accident. Before a conversation could start, the bell shooed them to their seats and soon they were encircled by Mozart’s music. He had completely forgotten to ask what was on the program tonight, but he recognized the theme immediately: Figaro’s Wedding.
“How appropriate,” he thought, because he immediately thought of Cherubin, the boy who is dressed as a girl by Suzanne, Figaro’s bride, during the second and third act, first to escape a compromising situation, and then to avoid having to join his regiment, where count Almaviva had sent him as a punishment. He loved the music and the Berlin opera certainly had excellent singers. He almost forgot his clothes and the circumstances that brought him there. Only now and then, when he wanted to take a deep breath and he felt the constriction of his corset, he became aware of his peculiar situation. He stole a sideways glance at Karl and Coco, but they had evidently taken him for what he seemed to be a girl.
During the intermission, they all went to the buffet and had some champagne.
“You know, I would have liked it even better, if Mozart had written the part of Cherubin for a high tenor, so that a boy could play the role. There is something missing in the action, if you know that the boy dressed as a girl is really a girl,” Aunt Margaret observed, “I would like to see a real boy be changed into a girl in the play.”
Jean-Marie did not at all like the turn the conversation took. He felt as if somebody had pushed him onto very thin ice. But Aunt Margaret did not let up.
“You see, the idea of the story is quite intriguing. Cherubin is a boy who actually chooses to become a girl to avoid joining the army. I do not believe that a normal boy could be persuaded to do this. He must have had the inclination to dress as a girl from the start. What do you think Coco?”
“Well, don’t ask me. You know, and you can see how I like to dress up, and I know there are a lot of other boys who would like to do it. And, I agree, Cherubin might actually like to be dressed as a girl and the way he is deceiving and flirting with his Master in the last act well, it could very well be that he likes to play the role of a girl. And maybe Mozart wrote that part with one of those pretty castrati in mind, which were still around when he composed this opera.”
Jean-Marie thought he couldn’t believe his ears. What did she just say? Who was dressed up? Did she just say “I”? Could it be that this feminine creature was a boy in dresses? And what did she say about other boys who liked to dress as girls? And everybody acted as if nothing was amiss! He did not understand the world anymore. Or was this the sophisticated big city world? He probably was just too square to understand it all on his first night out. “I will have a lot to learn,” he thought.
He looked at Coco again, trying to find some hint that would tell him if he had heard correctly. Coco, who had continued her analysis of Mozart’s probable intentions, suddenly stopped, feeling his stare.
“Oh I am sorry, I didn’t know that you didn’t -. But of course you are new here. To relieve your doubts and satisfy your curiosity: Yes, I am a boy, but I have been living as a girl entirely for several years now. I like it and I want it and I do it and I don’t give a damn if anybody else doesn’t like it.”
“I am sure she did not mean any offense but it is probably the first time today that she has seen such a pretty boy-girl,” Aunt Margaret cut in.
He slowly caught his breath.
“Oh, no, no offense at all. It is just that you are so unbelievably pretty, and your dress ... and, ah ... hair and ...”
He felt perfectly boorish.
“Well, I forgive you. And just to close this topic once and for all: I am not one of those, ‘homosexuals’ Freud writes about. I do not make love with men. I have a girlfriend, who could not come tonight, and I think Karl here is perfect in his role as escort to me. Karl, be a darling and take me to the bar again. I want another glass of champagne.” She smiled sweetly at him and offered her arm to be led away.
“I think you need another glass of champagne, too,” Aunt Margaret said to Jean-Marie, “Let’s go and get some.”
He could only follow quietly.
“I am sorry I did not prepare you for this surprise but, you see, it is not that uncommon that a boy is wearing girls’ clothes. Oh, by the way, I have not told them about you.”
During the entire rest of the performance he could not take his mind off what he had just heard. Was it really possible that there were boys who lived as girls? If what he had just heard was true, it must be so. But wasn’t this utterly wrong? Then he remembered his own very pleasant feelings when he was put into the clothes he now wore. Maybe there was a similarity; maybe there were others who had the same feelings, and maybe ...
Repeatedly he stole glances at Coco, who was sitting completely at ease at the other end of the box. How could a boy be so feminine? Again, doubts rose within him. Maybe they were just putting him on. But Coco had been so sincere and matter of fact when she had spoken to him. He was completely confused. When the performance ended and everybody walked out, he fell back behind the others, who were chatting lightly about the performance. He remained very quiet on their way home.
V. The Deflowering
When they reached home, he discovered that he suddenly was very hungry and was glad when the parlor-maid who received them and took their cloaks announced that a little supper had been prepared in his sitting-room. Aunt Margaret joined him in it and soon they were having delightfully prepared little sandwiches, and drinking more champaign. He discovered that he could eat only very little, probably because the tight constriction of the corset did not leave much room. The champagne apparently did not need any room under the corset: it went straight to his head and soon he was feeling quite relaxed and in the best of spirits. He even got up, picked up his train and started dancing around the room, humming popular tunes.
Aunt Margaret watched him for some minutes before she got up too and caught him in her arms.
“Enough for tonight,” she cautioned him, “you’ll have to go to bed now. It has been a very long and exciting day for you.”
She guided him into the bedroom and started to undress him. She took off his jewels, his dress and his petticoats, leaving him wearing only his long gloves, his corset and his stockings. He relished her ministrations and enjoyed every touch.
Suddenly, she tied a wide satin ribbon around each of his wrists so that there was about eight inches of material between them. The middle was tightly knotted to another wide satin ribbon. He did not understand what it was all about because this really was not fettering him in any way. She was not done, however, and she guided his arms over his head and behind his neck. Then she pulled the loose end from the second ribbon to the front where she knotted it securely around his neck, hiding the knots with an attractive bow under his chin. He discovered that she had made him completely helpless in this simple way. He could not use his arms or hands at all.
She took him around his small waist and drew him close. He felt completely in her power and unable to resist her in any way. She kissed him deeply on his mouth, letting her soft tongue play around his lips and with his tongue. It was the first time anybody had kissed him like this, but he enjoyed it immensely, and reciprocated with his own tongue. He instinctively wanted to put his arms around her, but the satin bondage she had put him into prevented it and made him realize all the more that he could only give in to her.
After several minutes she broke away and started to kiss his nipples, which already were big, hard and erect. Shivers of delight raced through him. The pull of the tightly gartered stockings, the constriction of his corset, and the soft touch of his leather gloves rubbing against his neck and shoulders all gave him an exciting feeling: he really felt like a girl now, a girl helpless in the arms of her lesbian lover.
Margaret guided him to the bed and made him lie down. She climbed on top of him still fully clothed and straddled him, bunching up her long skirt around her. She moved upward until she sat on his chest, rubbing her crotch against his nipples. He discovered that she, too, wore no drawers. He felt the soft, moist lips of her pussy wander around and caress his hard nipples. He writhed in real ecstasy, his whole body squirming under her. All he could hear was his heavy breathing and the rustling of her skirts about him.
After a while, she raised herself to a kneeling position. She picked up her skirts and covered his head with them. All was dark now. She moved her crotch closer to his mouth until her nether lips met his.
“I want you to use your tongue now. Lick it, suck it, let your tongue play around in it,” she commanded.
He couldn’t object or escape her, bound as he was, but there was nothing he would have liked better to do, and being forced to do it just added to his excitement. He did as she asked him and she showed him by little movements what she liked best. It took only a few minutes until her movements became heavier and she pressed herself against his mouth. She rubbed herself all over his face and suddenly some liquid erupted and ran over his face. After a few moments her movements subsided and she let herself fall back upon his chest.
When she pulled back her skirts from his face, he saw a happy, satisfied smile on hers.
“That was very good. You are very talented. I shall reward you now.”
She reached back to the bottom of his corset and unfastened the strap that held his turgid tool captive. As soon as the pressure relented, it sprang up. She grabbed it and massaged it slowly.
“This is my toy now. I can do whatever I please with it, can’t I?” she demanded of him.
“Yes, you can anything at all.” She raised herself again and slowly let his prick glide into the moist warm depth of her love nest. She started to rise and fall in a slow, even rhythm, watching his mounting excitement, driving him crazy.
“You see, you cannot resist me in any way, and you really don’t want to. You are my captive below my skirts, the skirts of a woman, the skirts that you wore today and will be wearing tomorrow. You will be absolutely subjected to my will and desire from now on.”
He felt like he had to rebel against this subjection, but did not have the power nor did he wish to rebel. Actually he wished this never would stop.
She prolonged the excitement: as soon as she felt his climax nearing, she sat down on him without any movement until he cooled down a bit and then started the cycle again. All the time she spoke to him in a low, but intense tone, as if she were hypnotizing him and wanted to plant her words into his mind. She spoke about his subjection to her that he couldn’t escape and that he did not really want to escape at all.
He was almost out of his mind with pleasure. His breath came in short little gasps now and when finally she allowed him to come, he was so exhausted mentally, emotionally and physically that he simply passed out.
Margaret raised herself and got off the bed. She arranged her skirt and rang for Suzanne.
“Put him into a nightgown and have him down for breakfast tomorrow at nine,” she ordered, and left for her own apartments.