The Next Day
I was up early, and called to set up a surgery for Stacy’s breast enhancement. The hormones were working but his tits seemed to have stopped growing at a B cup. I wanted him really top heavy. At least a D cup, maybe a DD. I let the exhausted sissy sleep.
As I was finishing up my third coffee after breakfast, Stacy entered the kitchen, dressed to the nines as a very pretty lady. But this was Friday, and he should have been dressed as a sissy.
Stacy said as he walked in, “Good morn…”
I faked rage, saying, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, sissy? This is Friday, damn it.”
His face went pale with fear as he stood just inside the dining room, balanced on his five-inch high-heeled pumps. “It’s… its Fri… Friday?” he stammered.
“Fucking right it’s Friday. You have earned some serious correction, you stupid ass,” I bellowed, suppressing my glee at catching him in error. “Now, you have 30 minutes to correct the situation, and then go to the rec room and lie face up on the pool table. Go!”
***
Stacy hastily ran to the bedroom to redress. He stripped the makeup from his face, disrobed, slinging his feminine attire across the room, some landing on the bed, the rest on the floor. He carefully placed the expensive blonde wig on its form, and began digging out some of his sissy attire. Fishnet crotch-less pantyhose in off-black, low heel open toe patent pumps, and an off-black training bra with the cups cut out. He had to search for the ball spreader, but finally found it in one of Gail’s drawers.
As he began to attach his gaudy imitation gold dangling earrings, those that almost grazed his shoulders, he discovered that he was still wearing his precious 2ct. diamond studs, and hastily removed them. Then he noticed that his fingernails and toenails were all wrong for a sissy. They had to be pale pink, not the ruby red he had on.
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