“Come on, you two,” Mom said, her voice a siren’s call to action. “We’ve got a full day ahead of us. New clothes, new makeup, new… everything!”
Brianna’s eyes lit up with excitement, and she grabbed my hand, pulling me to my feet. “Let’s go, little Mister,” she said, her voice a mix of affection and amusement. “Mom’s got a whole new wardrobe picked out for us!”
Mom and I followed her down the hallway to my room, where she had laid out an assortment of clothes and lingerie on the bed. The sight was overwhelming, a riot of colors and fabrics that promised a day of girly transformation. The thongs, dresses, sandals, and the little birdlock from our shopping spree were all laid out before me like a treasure trove of girliness.
Brianna picked up a delicate lace thong, holding it up with a knowing smile. “This one’s for you, Kota,” she said, her eyes gleaming. “It’ll make you feel like a real girl.”
I took the thong from her, the soft fabric sending a shiver down my spine. I had never worn anything so revealing, so intimate, and the thought of having Brianna’s approval was like a drug, a powerful aphrodisiac that made me want to please her even more.
“Go on,” Bri urged, her voice a gentle command. “Put it on, baby. You’re going to look so good in it.”
I stepped into the thong, feeling the cool lace embrace my cock and balls. The fabric was so delicate it was almost like a second skin, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable. I pulled the dress over my head, the fabric caressing my skin like a lover’s touch. It was tight, hugging every curve and bulge, highlighting my newfound femininity.
Brianna watched me, her eyes wide with excitement. “Oh my God,” she breathed, her hand reaching out to trace the line of the dress against my body. “You look… incredible.”
I couldn’t help but blush at her praise, feeling a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with arousal. The dress ended just below my ass, leaving the plug just barely out of sight.
“Perfect,” Mom said, her voice filled with satisfaction. “Now, let’s get those sandals on you, and then we’ll deal with the birdlock.”
The sandals were a sparkly pink, the heels just high enough to make me wobble slightly. I took a tentative step, the feel of the leather against my feet unfamiliar but oddly thrilling. The dress whispered against my legs, the soft fabric brushing against my newly exposed skin, sending shivers up my spine.
Mom knelt before me, the birdlock in her hand. “You’re going to love this,” she murmured, her eyes never leaving mine. “It’s like having a piece of us with you always.”
Brianna’s hand slid around my waist, her grip firm and reassuring. “You’re ours now, Kota,” she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. “And we’re going to take such good care of you. You are our little Mister!”
The cool plastic of the lock was a stark contrast to the warmth of Mom’s hand as she began to secure it around my cock, the base of the plug pressing against my pretty ass. With a final click, the birdlock was in place, so tight it made me gasp, and it was an immediate declaration of my submission to them both.
“There,” Mom said, standing up and dusting off her knees. “Now, let’s get some makeup on you. We don’t want you looking washed out, do we?”
Their eyes met in the mirror, a silent conversation passing between them. And as they began to transform me into the girl of their dreams and my dreams, I felt a sense of belonging, of purpose, that I had never known before. This was who I was meant to be, their little Mister, who I had always been deep down, and I was ready to fall in to their demands.
The sandals were a challenge, the heels making me wobble and teeter as I tried to walk with the grace that Brianna seemed to possess so naturally. Each step was a silent battle between the pain of the plug and the exhilaration of the new sensations it brought. But as I grew more accustomed to the feeling, I found myself enjoying the way the dress swayed with my movements, the hemline flirting with the bottom of my ass. It was as if the dress might be alive, a part of me, revealing just enough to leave the world wanting more.
The birdlock was a strange mix of pleasure and pain that made my heart race and my skin tingle. Every step was a silent declaration of my new status, that resonated with each click of the sandals against the floor. The dress clung to my body like a second skin, the fabric whispering sissiness with every move I made.
Mom applied my makeup with a steady hand, her eyes never leaving mine in the mirror. Each stroke of the brush was a caress, a promise of the woman I was about to become. The foundation blended seamlessly into my skin, the blush painted my cheeks a delicate shade of pink that matched my new thong perfectly. The mascara made my eyes pop, giving them the allure that I had always envied in Brianna. And as she painted my lips with the same shade of glossy red she had used earlier, I couldn’t help but lick them.
The transformation was complete, and as I looked at my reflection, I barely recognized the person staring back at me. But in their eyes, in the proud, loving gaze of Mom and Bri, I saw myself reflected in a way I never had before. I was beautiful, I was desired, and I was theirs.
The rest of the day was a whirlwind of dresses and heels, of learning to walk and sit and stand with the poise of a woman. Brianna taught me how to flirt with my eyes, how to pout my lips just so, and how to arch my back to make my ass look just right. And Mom, bless her, was there every step of the way, offering gentle guidance and encouragement. The new dresses were a scandal, revealing all of my shapely legs and barely hiding my ass cheeks by half an inch, making my heart race with excitement and fear. What if I really did get arrested?!
But the greatest challenge of all was the final dress, the one that Brianna had saved for last. It was a scandalously short number, the hemline barely hiding the bottom of my pretty ass. It was a declaration of war on my dignity. The fabric was so sheer it was almost transparent, and the color was a deep, dark blue that made me feel like an expensive whore.
“You look incredible,” Brianna whispered, her eyes devouring me. “You’re going to drive them all wild.”
Mom nodded in agreement, her smile a mix of pride and hunger. “You’re going to make all the boys hella horny, Kota. And all the girls will want to be you and be with you.”
As I took a deep breath and stepped into the dress, I knew that this was just the beginning. The world outside our house was about to get a taste of the new me, the slutty, obedient daughter and sister that had been created by Mom and Bri. And as I felt the dress hug my body, I knew that I was ready to let the world play peek-a-boo with my ass!
I spent the evening trying to give Mom and Bri peeks at my ass and thong. Even sitting down and crossing my legs demurely was a demonstration of sluthood. No way could I find any way to do that without flashing everything I had…ass, upper upper thighs, crotch, thong. Every time I tried it, I showed a little slice of heaven. Mom and Bri loved it, collapsing in giggles and egging me on.
Mom and Bri were both into their second bottle of wine, and they were having a damned good time!
I crossed the floor like an innocent and dropped a pencil or a hanky on the floor. And when I bent over to pick it up they would clap and call out the color of my thong, and they were right every time! Peek-a-boo!
I even waltzed into the kitchen four or five times and reached for the cereal from the top shelf and they would delightedly call out the color of my thong. Mom once shouted out, “You’re not supposed to show it all, slut! You’re supposed to show just a little bit! You’re supposed to look innocent, like you’re not aware of what you’re doing to people!” Then she broke down laughing.
The highlight was when I sat cross-legged in the living room floor. Mom’s eyes burned into me, and Bri raised a hand to her mouth and gasped. This was the response I had dreamed of! I had become THAT girl! The girl who could give the world a hard-on!
“You’re doing it wrong!” Brianna said, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She sauntered over and bent down to whisper in my ear. “You’re supposed to give them just enough to drive them crazy, like you’re a sweet girl, not show it all at once like a whore!” Then she gave me a sip of her wine and told me to try again.
I took a deep breath and tried to remember everything they had taught me. Mom poured me a very generous glass of wine to encourage my inner prick tease. I straightened my legs out in front of me and leaned back on my elbows, arching my back just enough to make the dress ride up. The wine was working. The fabric was so tight that it was a struggle not to show my ass entirely. I felt the plug pressing against my insides, and a strange thrill shot through me.
Mom’s eyes had the look of too much wine, but they were glued to me, and Brianna was watching me, evaluating me. She took a sip of her wine and nodded approvingly. “Better, bitch,” she murmured. “But you’ve got to be more… subtle. You want them to beg for it, Kotes.”
Then I tried again, trying not to look like a whore.
The dress hugged every curve and bulge in a way that made me feel both exposed and powerful. I leaned back, placing a hand on the floor to balance myself. The coolness of the tile against my palm grounded me, keeping me from floating away on the cloud of lust that seemed to follow me everywhere.
“Remember to keep your knees almost together, sweetie,” Mom instructed, her eyes never leaving my legs. “It’s all about the tease, baby doll.”
Her voice was a purr, a gentle guide through the seductive dance she and Brianna were choreographing for me. I adjusted my posture, revealing still more of my thighs. The room felt hot, the air thick with the scent of perfume and anticipation. Bri’s eyes narrowed, and she nodded, a smug smile playing on her lips. “That’s it,” she murmured, her gaze lingering on the space between my legs. “So close, baby.”
Mom leaned back on the couch, her legs crossed, watching me with maternal pride. Her foot began to tap a rhythm on the floor that seemed to mimic the beat of my racing heart. “Keep going, Kota,” she urged. “Keep going, baby.”
I bit my lip, the pressure of sitting making the birdlock bite into me. I said, “Bri. Come down here on the floor with me and show me how to do this. I can learn a lot from you, you’re a first-ballot hall of fame prick tease!”
Brianna’s smile grew wider, and she set her wine glass down, sliding off the couch with a grace that made me feel clumsy. She sat beside me, crossing her legs, her own dress riding up to show a hint of her lacy panties. “You’re going to have to be more… coy,” she said, her voice a silky whisper. “It’s all about the chase.”
Her hand reached out, lightly brushing the inside of my thigh, her touch sending a shiver through my body. “Like this,” she said, her fingers tracing a line up to my hemline, then retreating before they reached the promised land. “Tease them, make them want it.”
Her hand lingered there, a silent invitation, and I leaned into her touch, my breath catching in my throat. The fabric of the dress was like a lover’s caress, each movement revealing a little more of my new self. I screwed up my courage and said, “Ok, Bri. Show me exactly how you want me to sit.”
Her hand slid up my thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through me, and she positioned me with the ease of a sculptor shaping clay. She tucked one leg underneath me, the other bent at the knee, just so. The dress rode up even further, and I could feel the coolness of the air against my crotch. “Like this,” she said, her voice a seductive purr. “Looks innocent, but it’s not. It’s the opposite of innocent!” Then she leaned over and gave me a juicy kiss on the mouth, along with a very generous amount of tongue. I thought I was gonna die!
Her mouth pulled away, leaving me breathless and panting. “Now, remember,” she whispered, “Keep your knees like this and just wiggle a bit.” I did as she instructed, and she clapped her hands together, her eyes alight with excitement. “Perfect!” No words could ever say how much I loved her at that moment.
The next morning dawned with a sense of excitement and dread, a heady cocktail of emotions that made my stomach churn. It was my first day at school as a… well, as a slutty boy. Brianna had picked out my outfit for the day, a micro-micro-mini dress that barely covered my ass and a thong so skimpy it was practically invisible. Mom had done my makeup, painting my face with a look that was both sweetly innocent and smolderingly seductive.
For school, I was in a special gender-affirming program and a female mentor was allowed to accompany me at times to help me become acclimated. Bri was to be my mentor, and she drove us to the school. As we pulled up, I felt like I was stepping into a lion’s den dressed as a gazelle. But Brianna’s hand squeezed my thigh reassuringly, her eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror. “You got this, Kotes,” she said, her voice a mix of encouragement and challenge.
The second I stepped out of the car, heads turned, jaws dropped, and whispers began to spread like wildfire. I could feel the heat of a hundred pairs of eyes on me, but instead of shrinking away, I reveled in it. The clack of my sandals on the pavement echoed through the quiet morning, each step a declaration of war on the school’s mundane dress code. The micro-micro-mini dress was a declaration of my new identity, my pretty ass cheeks threatening to make an unscheduled appearance with every step. The thong was like a secret lover, caressing me with every move, a silent promise of what lay beneath.
Brianna strutted beside me, her swagger a stark contrast to my nervous prancing. She wore a knowing smile, a silent chaperone to my debut into the world of sexual objectification. We entered the school building, and the whispers grew louder. The air was charged with an energy that made me feel like I could conquer the world. Or at least the school.
My heart hammered in my chest with every step, the birdlock a constant companion, reminding me that my sluttiness had to be held in check for my own good. The dress, a mere scrap of fabric, fluttered with every move, and my thong was a secret that for the moment was shared only with me and the breeze. The sandals just topped off the look. It was a look that said, “Fuck me hard!”
As we approached the school gates, Brianna leaned over to whisper, “Remember, Kota, you’re the hottest piece of ass here. You set the bar now. You have a head start. I was a legend at this school, and you’re my sister!”
Her words echoed in my head as we walked down the hallway, beckoning every eye to feast upon my barely concealed flesh. The dress, a mere whisper of cloth, danced with each step, the thong threatening to reveal itself at any moment.
“You’re doing great, Kota,” Brianna murmured in my ear, her breath hot and sweet with the scent of mint. “Just remember, it’s all about the tease.”
Her words were like a mantra as we navigated the sea of stunned faces, each one a potential conquest in the game we were playing. My heart thumped against my ribs, a wild drumbeat of excitement and fear. This was it. This was what I had always wanted: to be desired, to be the center of attention, and now it was all mine for the taking.
As we reached my locker, I felt a sudden gust of cold air, a reminder that the dress was more of a promise than a barrier. I shivered, and Brianna chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re going to be fine,” she said, her hand lingering on the small of my back. “Just keep thinking of that pencil trick.”
The day began, and with it, a delicious game of cat and mouse. I dropped that pencil more times than I ever had in my life, each time bending over with a dramatic flair, ensuring that my skirt would ride up just enough to offer a tantalizing glimpse of what lay beneath. The reactions were everything I could have hoped for: gasps, stifled laughs, and the occasional groan of frustration from the boys who hadn’t yet built up the courage to approach me.
Brianna was a silent sentinel, her eyes following me from across the crowded hallways, her smirks and nods of approval spurring me…