Sunday, February 24, 2008

A Date With Miss B


Another time Panties was invited to a chic dinner club where Panties watched her a few feet toward the stage sitting with her date. He helped her off with her coat and took off his hooded jacked. He was tall with close-cropped hair and a single gold earring tempering his strong, laconic aura. Panties couldn’t help but notice her talking, smiling attentively, solicitously, deferentially, how she tilted her head and laughed sweetly at his occasional comments. Even the angle at which she leaned in to pay attention so different from how she related, physically to Panties. Panties paid less attention to the comics on stage than she did Miss B, enjoying her date. For one instant Panties caught her sharp, taunting awareness of Panties sitting a few rows back in her wig and lipstick, nervously holding her purse. In the ladies room, Miss B handed the camera to a young girl to take a picture of Panties on the floor, kissing her feet. After the show, Miss B, pretty and glowing, sat in the front room by the window with her man and some friends she knew from the club. Panties was explicitly forbidden to speak to her unbidden and Miss B didn’t waste a glance on Panties leaving even as the night was just warming up for much of the attractive crowd. Later Miss B would tell Panties about the late part of her evening. He had asked her to his place so they could talk, but instead held her close. “I thought you wanted to talk,” purred Miss B. “We are talking,” said her man. And they kissed. Later, Miss B would tell Panties how her friends who worked at the club had laughed at the transvestite, who had paid for her date, sitting alone in her short skirt and high heels.
Posted by Picasa

Sunday, February 17, 2008

For Valentine’s Day, Panties bought her two pairs of boots. She loves boots not quite as much as Panties loves panties, but she threatens to fill the room with boots and have Panties sleep in the closet. She wanted the pair in black but settled for a pair of dark brown which she was worried they would sell out of. So Panties bought her the second pair, a different style, in black. “I have a date on Thursday,” she announced. “I’ll wear them for him so he can admire my legs. They make my butt look good too. You’re not allowed to see them that way,” she went on. “You get to kiss the bottoms. But not until I’ve walked around outside for a bit. When they’re nice and dirty.”

Sunday, February 10, 2008



“Put on your pink bikini,” she said without looking up from the glass coffee table top where she was assembling the perimeter of a jigsaw puzzle. In the bathroom Panties pulled the bikini bottom over her sanitary belt and tied on the top. Panties set up the folding chair, placed the drinking glass on the sink and lay down in the tub with Christine K.’s panties. “Wear them on your face,” she instructed. Panties listened to the sound of rushing water filling the glass. “So, Panties, why are you being punished?”
“For disobedience.”
“And for willfully squirting...”
“You were trying to escape, weren’t you?”
Miss B slowly poured the water over Christine K’s panties covering Panties’ face. Water filled Panties nose and mouth. She gasped for air.
“That doesn’t feel good, does it?” asked Miss B as she refilled the glass.
This continued for thirty minutes as Panties continually begged for forgiveness. Finally Panties was led out of the bathroom and told to knee.
“Oink for me,” she said. “Be my transvestite oinking snail.”
Panties balled up tight and began inching along the floor snorting like a pig. Miss B laughed happily.
“Oink louder! Beg for forgiveness.”
She began striking Panties’ bikini bottom with a belt. Over and over as Panties implored her to forgive Panties.
“Panties is sorry! Panties will never disobey Miss B again. Please forgive Panties!”
“You’re not forgiven. You’re leaving a trail of slime behind you...”
“Panties is so ashamed. Panties has learned Panties’ lesson. Panties is sorry!”
“Get in your favorite position.”
Panties bent over the bed.
“Which alphabet do you want to say?”
“The vagina alphabet.”
“Let me hear.”
“... ‘A,’ my vagina...”
She struck Panties right buttock with the belt.
“‘B,’ my vagina...”
After “Z” Miss B casually announced that she would watch another episode of Lost after which Panties could resume begging to be forgiven. Outside the rain had begun to blow hard against the window.

Panties was dressed in the mint stripe seersucker lounge dress Miss B had chosen. “Now I want you to beg for forgiveness as a transvestite. I want you to curtsy and after each curtsy ask for forgiveness after stating one reason why you’re a transvestite. ‘Panties is a transvestite because Panties play with dolls. May Panties be forgiven?’ Got it?”
“Miss B?”
“Panties is a transvestite because Panties wear panties. May Panties be forgiven?”
“Miss B?”
“Panties is a transvestite because Panties menstruates. May Panties be forgiven?”
This continued for twenty minutes. At the end Panties begged for a spanking because she was very sore from the first round. Miss B said she would spank Panties, but that she was hungry. Panties made Miss B a sandwich and salad which she ate while watching Episode 3 Second Season of Lost.

Panties bought Miss B 2 pairs of boots for Valentine’s Day after which she was spanked a little less hard than before. She listened, posed in her favorite position as Miss B explained that had Panties not been guilty of her accidental squirt she would have had her apologies accepted. Instead Panties would have to wait for one other day before March 31st to beg for Miss B’s forgiveness. Miss B settled down to her jigsaw puzzle with another cup of tea while watching the Lost episode where the French woman appears, just after they tortured Sting.


Miss B arrived after dark. She ate some crackers and asked for a glass of water and peppermint tea. She took a shower and said to be ready to train. After five minutes though she said she was not in the mood. She said Panties should dress in some of her new wardrobe and take her to a movie where Panties would sit one row behind her wearing earplugs and staring at the floor. But it got late, and there was not a late showing of "100 Dresses," which Miss B was interested in seeing. So instead, she somewhat reluctantly agreed to get into Season 1 of “Lost.” One full DVD later, it was near midnight and she had watched the pilot and the first two episodes. She liked the hunky doctor and enjoyed the twists of plot. After, she told Panties to write about watching the show as a sissy. Panties wasn’t crazy about the show with its stock characters (the bigoted troublemaker, the addict-artiste, the heroine with a dark secret, the aggrieved minority, the model forced to do without mascara) and the one-dimensional doctor who breaks up fights and is noble to the degree that he answers Kate’s confessional offering with a stupid speech about how they’ve all been reborn on the island. Maybe he gets some complexity in the later shows, but mostly he heads a pastiche of predictable types ripped from Gilligan’s Island and Survivor. Anyhow, this is not how Panties is supposed to think (See Miss D’s instructions for watching her play in Christmas Pageant-6). Panties was supposed to be looking away during the gory parts and thinking how silly the men are when they fight and concentrating on how the girls dressed and make up. Panties is learning to relate to what becoming for her, “the opposite sex,” with their beard stubble and chest hair. (Panties had shaved her legs and underarms that morning.) Panties remarked to Miss B about the panties pressed flat in the suitcases in the wreckage of the luggage compartments and how Panties was learning not to regard the attractive girls as something Panties should aspire to kiss or cuddle with. And the primary lesson of the evening, was Kate how she so casually wore her femininity and how the instinctive calculus she would run as a woman whether taking the measure of a pistol or the pregnant girl, and how she brightened whenever she met the handsome doctor and how Panties would increasingly likely not again ever have a girl glad in that way (the way girls do when they are with men) to see her.

Thursday, February 7, 2008


Miss B sat down at the computer and ordered the shoes that night. Panties already had given her the credit card number and expiration date. "Doesn't that feel good? Aren’t you happy?” asked Miss B. “Because these are what make me happy. I think I’ll use you for my friends, too. I’ll say, ‘Oh let me. My slave will take care of it.’ I think, Panties that you’ll pay for whenever I buy birthday presents for my friends.” The next day Panties came home and found a package at her door. She couldn’t believe it was possible, but somehow it had been delivered in less than 24 hours. Several hours later, Miss B was trying them on. “Aren’t you looking forward to kissing the bottoms?” she asked. “But you have to wait for them to get dirty first. That way you feel like a dirty piece of gum. Or a bug I’ve stepped on. She looked at a Barbie poster Panties had bought for less than $10. “That’s the difference between us, Panties. I get a lovely new pair of Puma shoes, green and purple, for $90 and you get a $5 pink Barbie poster.” Panties was in fact happy that Miss B could throw out her worn out athletic shoes with the ruined heel counters. But for some reason she took them with her, leaving a less-dilapidated pair of shoes which she no longer had any use for.