TRANSVESTITE SHAME!! She knows how to excite me. All she has to do is take off her blouse...and when I get sight of those massive globes...I'm sunk! I cannot tear my eyes from those luscious breasts. That is how she got me into skirts in the first place. I could not get my hands on them, until I submitted to her bizarre needs! She reaches behind herself...as she fumbles with the fastening of her brassiere my heart races. I know she will want to hurt me; I know she will humiliate me...and yet I cannot resist. I want to feel the weight of those gorgeous breasts in my palms...and she knows it! Her breasts are released from their satin and lace cage..they wobble free...and I reach out. She grins as I reverently cup them. My thumbs run over the erect nipples. "Bend over!" She whispers..I stare at her helpless and afraid. I plead with my eyes but I dare not refuse. But she is already stepping out of her skirt. I see a glimpse of thigh. I swallow painfully, this is going to be painful, I know it! She is impatient. Angry. "Get on your knees. Now!" It is very difficult. My maids frock is almost skin-tight. I lean on the side of the bed and lower my self to my knees. My tight silk skirt rides up my thighs. I begin to sob as she drags my silk knickers down...why does she need to humiliate me so? The thin leather riding crop whistles through the air. I shove my face into a pillow...I try not to scream as she whips my feminized flesh.

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PLUS!

Maternal Discipline! As soon as I saw him I knew I wanted him. He didn't look like a she-male. Indeed he was very attractive. Of course he was wearing lipstick and ear-rings, but he still looked, well, boyish. Shy and demure! And his frock, it was drop-dead gorgeous. Long clinging silk that buttoned all the way down. And what a figure! A waist I could span with both hands, you could tell at a glance she'd used corsets from an early age. His mother pushed him forward and introduced him as Mark. My mother waved at me saying, 'This is Jenny. She is looking for a well-trained man. I assume he is trained?' Mark's mother, a well-dressed buxom matron nodded. 'Oh yes. Mark has been disciplined and feminized from a very early age. He is totally obedient and will make Jenny an excellent wife.' I saw Mark blush. And I giggled. Our eyes met, and I could see he liked what he saw. My mother stared at Mark thoughtfully, 'You say he's feminized. Can you explain?' Mark's mother turned to her red-faced son and opened his pink silk frock. Mark squirmed a little but remained quiet. I watched as she displayed his small but perfect breasts. 'I've used a good hormone cream and massage for the last three years. The breasts are small but real, he can even make milk!' My mother leaned over and touched Mark's chest. ''You used a Lactation Pump?' As Mark's mother nodded she casually caressed him as though she were a man groping a young woman. Mark's nipples stiffened visibly. Mummy smiled. 'I see what you mean. He likes being female, he is feminized! Excellent!' Mark's mother spoke carefully, 'He has been trained to react like a female in most circumstances and to obey all females. He is trained in domestic duties and accepts my punishment when he is not perfect.' My mother turned to me, 'Well girl, is this the man you want for your wife?' I moved closer. Taking his hand I pulled him from his mother. I slid my arm about his neat girlish waist and kissed him. His lips were soft, pink and girlish. They trembled as I flicked my tongue over them. I slipped my palm down into his groin. He writhed and his mouth opened. I enjoyed kissing him, he felt weak and soft and vulnerable. And he never tried to touch me. Pulling away from him I nodded. 'Yes. I want him.'

Make him wear a Bra!