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 - 7. A Spanking

When Jean-Marie (or Gloria, as he now always was called by his aunt and his maid Suzanne since they had tricked him into wearing girl’s clothes) woke up after a refreshing sleep, he let the last two days pass in review: How he had come to Berlin to meet his aunt and guardian and how she had made him wear girl’s clothes and cunningly but gently pushed him into subjection. He tried to analyze his feelings about what had happened to him. He knew of course it was utterly wrong for a boy to be dressed as a girl. Boys just did not do this period. Everything he had learned during the seventeen years of his upbringing said it was wrong, terribly wrong and that he had to fight it and oppose it.

However, deep inside him there was something troubling him. To be dressed as a girl had caused exciting feelings in him. He still shivered with delight, when he thought back to how he had looked in his evening gown dressed up for a night at the opera. And when he remembered how he was completely tied up and gagged in the afternoon dress last night, he became terribly excited. He remembered dreams that he had had since his earliest boyhood about being tied up, dreams about beautiful women forcing him to wear girl’s clothes, using him as their toy. He always had tried to shake off these terrible and unnatural dreams but they were thrilling him to his very bones.
He had never ever talked to anybody about these dreams. He would have died of shame. He was convinced that nobody would understand his feelings anyhow, and he would be ridiculed by all, so it was best to bury them deep inside and push them aside whenever they occurred. These dreams were so odd, they must be unique. He was sure nobody else had these dreams.
Yet that night at the opera and again yesterday he had met a beautiful girl, who actually was a boy, and who made no secret of this, and the fact that she enjoyed dressing and living as a girl and preferred it to a masculine existence. Were there others who had the same or similar feelings? It was quite a revelation to him that, evidently, there were. Coco had made some remark about her knowing other boys who liked to dress up.
But anyway, he resolved that this was not for him. He wanted to become an engineer like his father had been and travel through the world to bring the wonders of technical progress to its far corners. He wanted to fight the elements and make them bow to human to his willpower. That was a task where only a strong man could succeed. Nobody ever heard of a female railroad engineer laying tracks through deserts and jungles, for instance. He therefore had to put an end to the doings and machinations of his aunt and shed the female things she put on him.
That morning he felt so strong that he was sure that nobody could deter him from finding some male clothes and doing away with the girlish things they had made him wear. In spite of his tight corset, which he had to keep on during the night, and the fact that his arms were held to his side by the elastic loops of its garters, he climbed out of his bed. The clock on the mantlepiece showed 10 minutes to seven. With his teeth, he tugged at the bell to summon the maid.
Suzanne appeared almost immediately.
“Good morning, Gloria, you are up early. Madame had asked me to wake you at seven. All the better: we have a few minutes more.”
She removed his nightgown, unfastened his wrists from their elastic but inescapable fetters and proceeded with the morning ritual of perfumed bath, brushing and curling his hair and dressing him. Strapping him to the lacing bar, she put a new corset on him that was not as tight as the one last night, it left him with about half an inch more room. He was really thankful for this little additional space, although after only about 30 hours in corsets his body seemed to have adjusted fairly well to the compression of these torture tools.
Suzanne dressed him in a traveling costume of light beige wool with dark brown velvet applications. His feet were shod in smart beige boots with heels only a little higher than three inches.
“Madame said breakfast will be served in her rooms at 8:15. We have about half an hour until then. I shall pack your things now and you can help me select the things to pack. As you do not have to pack anything yourself, please put your hands on your back so I can lock them together as Madame had wished.”
This is my chance to put my foot down and stop this nonsense, he thought.
“I shall not allow you to tie up my hands. There is no reason to do it, I did not do anything wrong and I do not have to be punished. It is humiliating enough having to wear these clothes, but I shall not tolerate being tied up by you.”
He looked at her defiantly.
She did not answer him, she just took his right hand in her hands, raised her arms and slipped through under them, turning herself full circle and passing him doing it. She ended standing behind him, holding his right arm in a very painful hammer-lock position. All this happened in less than a second and took him entirely by surprise. He screeched with pain. He almost doubled over to escape the pain. She steered him toward the backrest of a large easy chair.
“All right, if you want it the hard way, it’s your choice. Pick up your skirt with your left hand and hold it high up on your back,” she commanded.
When he hesitated, she pulled his right arm higher, causing the awful pain to increase even more. He feared that the slightest further increase of her pull would dislocate his shoulder, so he gave in and pulled his skirt up. She helped him and gathered all of it on his back, directing his left hand to hold it there. From the dressing table nearby she grabbed a hair-brush and started to spank him hard on his bare behind.
He screeched and howled with pain but she did not relent, she just bent him deeper over the backrest and buried his face into the thick pillows lying on the seat, effectively muffling his cries. She spanked him hard until her arm began to tire and his cries had turned to uncontrolled heavy sobbing. She did not let him go after she stopped beating him, just released her hold on him a little bit so he could raise his body. His face was read and wet from his tears, he still sobbed so hard that his whole body was jerking. It was not just the pain, which shook him up, it was the total humiliation of being spanked like that by a mere girl that had shattered his masculine ego.
“Will you now obey me, if I tell you to do something?”
He hastened to nod, wiping his nose and his eyes with his free hand.
“Or do you want a repeat performance?”
He shook his head violently, still unable to speak for his sobbing.
She let go of his arm. “All right then. Here are some handcuffs. Put them on yourself behind your back.”
Still unable to control himself, he took the shining things and fumbled behind his back until they were closed and locked his hands closely together on his back. Suzanne checked to see if they were on tight enough and was satisfied only after she had tightened them a notch or two.
“Now, as Madame had wished, you will wear them at all times when you are not required to use your hands for something you were asked to do. If I forget about it, you will remind me. And you will put them on yourself as soon as I ask you to, understand?”
He nodded with is head hanging down.
“Now let me clean up your face and put on some make-up so people won’t see right away you have been crying.”
She made him sit in front of the mirror and started with the cosmetics.
“And by the way, I may as well tell you now, you will hear it from Madame anyway: Madame has promoted me from your maid to your governess. I have to instruct you on feminine behavior, ladylike deportment and so on. We shall have many training sessions every day from now on. And since I am not your maid anymore, I want you to call me “Mademoiselle” from now on and you will have to curtsey to me when greeting me or when I give you permission to do something exactly as you have to do with Madame.”
His spirits were completely broken. Another humiliation, having to accept this girl as his superior, who could give him orders.
“Madame also told me that she thinks it is unsuitable and sounds childish if you call her “Aunt”. She thinks being called “Aunt” by a big girl like you in front of strangers makes her appear too old. But just calling her “Margaret” is entirely inappropriate, since she is your guardian, and you should show the respect due to her in addressing her. She therefore wants you to address her as “Madame”. I suggest you remember this, lest you start collecting black marks swiftly.”
After this new blow to his ego, he was seriously thinking of fleeing from this house at once. But what could he do? Fettered as he was, he would not even be able to reach the door of his room. And dressed as he was where could he turn in a strange city with no money? He had to find an opportunity to escape. Maybe the weekend excursion would present a chance.