Wardrobe

 
Miss C took Panties shopping. It seemed casual enough, it was like shopping with a friend, although she did make a point of speaking so that all within earshot could hear her comments: “I think this bag is perfect for a sissy!” But she wasn’t interested in what Panties might have bought on her own and instead steered Panties to a modest day’s purchases, things a girl might buy: purse, boots, jeans. She taught Panties about pockets and waist size, helping her choose four girl’s jeans and escorting her into the dressing room where they eventually settled on a pair of tight, low rise, boot cut, Malvi Zoes. Later as Panties hung her new jeans in her closet, she realized how she was being imprinted with a girl’s sensibilities. Whereas before she was more obviously aware of panties, heels and skirts, she was suddenly regularly noting the handbags and women’s slacks and leggings on the street and in advertisements. Miss C could (and will) readily dress Panties in bloomers and petticoats, but she had gently expanded Panties consciousness and wardrobe, better equipping her for the years of errands and service to come.

Home

 
Miss D:

Panties dreams of living in a bedroom like this.


My room will be darker, more mysterious, more gothic; Panties will be
afraid to leave her Barbies and come into my room.

In the Morning

 

Panties sat on the pink sheets as Miss C sat up in a tangle of bed covers. Nearby were the pink-and-white-and-black nylon panties Miss C had given her for no clear reason. Tongue-tied and nervous, Panties tried to convey her version of a lover approaching the object of adoration. It was a unique and private plea, essentially an audition, which Miss C listened to with her usual gentle thoughtfulness (overcast with her usual slow morning disorientation as her body temperature recovered from its nocturnal lows). She noted Panties’ in her maid’s uniform, kneeling before her and finally spoke: “You’re never going to be my boyfriend. I much prefer you as a servant. We’re developing a kind of friendship where you serve me. You’ll get to be close to me [to do my work] We’ll be very close, just like a couple, but without the sex. I think you should go make me my coffee now.” When Panties returned with a cup of hazelnut coffee (with sugar and soy milk) she again talked about how lucky would be her boyfriend or lover. How wonderful it would be to be the one to kiss her good morning. Miss C sipped her coffee and said, “You can kiss my panties.”

In the Salon

 

If you turn in the right circles, you might have met Miss C at a certain fancy townhouse where there is live music and liquor and naked models. Miss C prefers when they hold a pose for at least half an hour and modestly complained that she was “out of practice” with her charcoals. Everyone was curious about the new girl although she is not the type to call for the spotlight. Later she drew a sketch of Life Size Barbie. Over the next several days you might see her adding to the portrait: a bit of shading, or single stroke of color...

Not a Date

 
Miss C who looks like a young and prettier version of Laura Linney took Panties to a play last night. Panties was dressed in Miss D’s red wrap top with a short black print skirt. The play was funny and profound, and afterwards Miss C allowed Panties to drink red wine with her in a dark, atmospheric trattoria a few blocks away. Panties listened to her talk about her boyfriends and art and her life. At one point she glanced down and spoke very intently:

You’re out in a skirt and bare legs and panties. You are wearing pantihose. Everyone sees you as a lady.

Walking in her pumps, feeling the extreme cold on her legs, Panties felt very glad to be out with this pretty, clear-eyed gamine, as her girl friend, out for a night at the theater.

"I've Always Wanted a Maid"

 
She had the delighted look of a woman with many needs in the presence someone dressed in clothes which obligate the wearer to serve. “You may kiss my hand,” she said. Before long, the apartment was decorated with pink post-its in her stylish cursive: “wash me,” “iron,” “mend me,” on small piles of her clothes; “secretarial duties, retype first and second page so it is stain free. Ask for other details.” She hung the pink scarf over the blank face of the television and draped the pink Barbie panties over the turntable. Like Miss D, Miss C left her dirty dishes and clothes everywhere knowing they would be taken care of.

Barbie Sheets

 
Miss D decided Miss C would stay with Panties for a few days so that Panties could learn to relate to her properly. Panties was moved into the closet, sleeping on Barbie sheets and pillowcases, and Miss C was given full authority to use Panties for any of her needs. As when Miss D visits, Panties must knock and ask for permission to come into the presence of Miss C. Panties got her two maids uniforms ready as well as her pink leotard and pink check bloomers. Further, Miss D had Panties go to a specialty store and purchase a big basket of Miss C’s favorite snacks. When the two girls visit, Panties is not allowed to enjoy their company as one of the girls. Rather, she is a shadow, silent, attending to their needs quickly and with love. Recently Miss D and Miss C, with Panties in attendance, discussed the future in terms of how Panties might be of maximum service to their ambitions and daily comforts. They didn't ask for her input or even behave as if she were in any way a party to what is to happen.

Fairy

 
If you ever get to hear Miss D you will remember her lovely intelligent voice, her precise diction, and the startling way she can playfully reach for a higher octave or adjust her cadences. Sometimes Miss D is able to make Panties’ head turn pink with a single word (reins) or by the dragging on a word rhythmically, almost hypnotically. As when she was impressing on Panties exactly how she thinks of Panties’ transformation (another word she flicks like a sabre):

....underneath those collared shirts and thick shoes and socks, you-are-a-trans-ves-tite. You-wear-panties. People see you and don’t realize you are wearing a costume, but they sense it. Even when you are dressed normally as a woman, you are not quite dressing as in female clothes, normally.

Then, commenting after reading the entry for November 1 (and unaware even, of the fairy wings hanging in the back of Panties' closet) detailing Panties’ dilemma on Halloween, noting how special Panties must feel wearing a costume all the other days of the year:

Didn’t you dress in your m*n costume for Halloween? How cute. So you didn’t get to go out as Tinkerbell, or a tampon or a flagrant transvestite?

There was a thoughtful pause and then she said slowly, and with amusement:

I think that can be arranged. You’d be embarrassed to have to go out as Tinkerbell without a valid reason. The valid reason of course being I ordered you to do so. Where could you go as Tinkerbell? Hmmm. Maybe we can send you out with a basket of fairy dust and flowers. You could go up to women and ask them for a date. Wouldn’t that be fun? After (a day out as Tinkerbell), you’d be happy to go home and dress normally and do my work....

Day 7

 
Miss C: “When you go in the ladies room, sometimes you’ll see a skirt or underwear hanging to dry. This means some lady was not expecting her time of the month.” Of course, strawberry jam is a little easier to rinse out than blood.

Day 6

 
Most girls are spotting or finished by now, but Panties still is a little startled to see this when she sits to pee.

Day 5

 

Miss C sat Panties down for a lecture much like girls hear from their mothers, all about feminine hygiene, but with an occasional sharp elbow (such as her directive for Panties to experience an accident while out and about, and constant references to “your period,” “your cycle,” “your cramps,” “your feminine needs,” as well as the obvious implications in her having Panties sit quietly and submit to such an extensive one-way talk). Panties learned all about tampons, applicators and non-applicator, as well as organic brands and extra-green options, such as sea sponges. Panties was assigned a book about ancient historical practices where women were consigned to a red tent to menstruate onto straw which was changed by the young people of the clan. Miss C also showed Panties various menstrual cups (internal catch-devices), showing her how a one-use brand folds for insertion, holding it under a trickle of water so Panties could see and hear its capacity. She asked Panties to purchase one so she could have her own manual routine, filling, emptying, regularly and rinsing her own menstrual device each month. Miss D came in and suggested Panties stock up on a full line of menstrual products including heat pad and medications so to make her as knowledgeable about her body as any woman.

Dresses, Makeup and Lingerie

 
Panties has added one new shopping venue to her favorites, which curiously, seem to be looking much the same as Miss D’s. Panties is getting offers from Calvin Klein, Sephora, Mario Badescu, and Miss D’s very favorite dress store. She also felt a little pang when she opened her mail box to find the latest Victoria’s Secret catalog, giving her something in common with how many women around the world with an interest in pretty lingerie.

Nightie

 
Most of the world’s best sleepers wear nighties. If you ask around, you will find nightgown-wearers more often reporting a good-night’s sleep. (Compare with sleepers in coarser outfits.) Panties has added a pretty red nightie to her favorite three. This one is red nylon, full length, and complicated with a lacy diaphanous panel at the bust. It’s second-hand so it has that soft, thin, silkiness which new nightgowns rarely have. Worn with panties it stains your dreams and reddens the next morning and into the afternoon, at least.

Portrait of a Sissy

 

Panties remembers how Miss J (Miss Jessica, as opposed to Miss J, who Panties is friends with) used to use her powerful phone to photograph Panties in every sissy pose. Sometimes to make a point, she would send Panties an image of her standing in women’s clothes, without makeup or wig at at chic boutique, or fully visible in her pink bikini. Panties was constantly aware of her camera phone filling up with her in skirts, lingerie, and leotards, which Miss Jessica would use to gently and not-so-gently demonstrate her authority. Once, in a café, Panties dared refuse one of her more unreasonable orders. Miss Jessica simply disappeared into the boutique across the street. Panties’ phone rang and was told Miss Jessica was about to send several of her “prettiest photos” to several of Panties’ friends and acquaintances. Panties had to beg Miss Jessica (in a high voice, loudly so that the girls at the neighboring table could hear) for her to return so that Panties could show her respect and obedience. Recently Panties left Miss D a voice mail complaining generally about her sissification. Soon after her phone lit up with an image of Panties getting her eyebrows done by a pretty girl. Panties hadn’t even noticed Miss D nearby, silently taking the photo.