Stockings
mc; bb; Mb; Mdom; anal; inc; sissy
Part 1
Ten-year-old Jay looked with annoyance in his top dresser drawer. Sure, there was plenty of underwear, but all his socks had gone, and the one pair that was in there he had no memory of ever buying. He frowned, staring at the black socks, before doing what any 10-year-old would do in these circumstances.
“Dad! All my socks are missing!”
His dad, Lucas, promptly strode in and looked in the drawer. “There’s a pair right there.”
“Those aren’t mine!” Jay protested, but a stern look from his father shot him down.
“Jay, I don’t want to hear it. I’ve gone through this with your brother as well. They’re in your drawer. They’re your socks, and you will wear them. No arguments, young man.” Lucas glared one last time, as if to emphasize his statement, then turned and left the room. Jay sighed, watching his retreating back. Well, they couldn’t be that bad, could they?
He sat in his underwear and pulled the black socks up, over his feet and nearly to his knee. He looked in the mirror on his door. They were sheer black things, almost as much stockings as they were socks. There was a faint pattern of some kind in them, but he couldn’t really make it out. But they were one thing above all else:
They were horribly girly.
Jay reached down, intending to pull them off and go without, but the thought occurred to him that it would likely cause a fight with his dad. He really didn’t want that. No, he’d rather be a good boy and leave them on.
Yes, just leave them on for now. He smiled at his reflection and continued getting dressed.
Jay sat on the couch, kicking his heels. He hated to admit it, but the socks were really comfortable. And they were a little less embarrassing than the vivid rainbow striped ones his brother had been left with. Still, he was enjoying them. He considered asking his dad if they could go buy another pair. Of course, that would mean taking these off. And he didn’t want to do that. He wanted to be a good boy.
He looked at his brother Stephen, who was squirming uncomfortably. It probably had to do with the program they were watching. It was only something about men and boys loving each other, it wasn’t that bad. It fact, it looked like a lot of fun. His brother apparently felt differently.
The TV abruptly went dark, and before either boy could react their dad’s voice broke in. “Okay, both of you. Time for bed.”
Both boys groaned, but they did as they were told. They had to be good boys, after all. Jay shuffled off into his room. He stripped down, moving to take the socks off, but stopped. They were so comfortable, and he really wanted to leave them on. After all, what could it hurt? It wasn’t like any other socks had turned up anyways, so he’d just leave them on. That was what a good boy would do. Though he did admit it was weird that he hadn’t been able to finish his program. Oh, well. Tomorrow was another day.
Jay tossed and turned. His dreams were filled with whispers, soft voices telling him how to be a good boy, how to please daddy and be programmed. After all, good boys let themselves be programmed to please daddy.
He shuddered, brain overwhelmed with pleasure. He was a good boy, he knew it.
He shuddered again, eyes snapping open. Jay’s gaze fell on his clock. It was early for a Sunday, about 7. But better to be up and around early. That would please daddy and show he was a good boy. He slipped out of bed and out of his pajamas. He smiled at the mirror, briefly loving how he looked in his still-perfect socks.
Of course he had to leave them on. He couldn’t be a good boy if he took them off. He smiled and practically skipped the four steps over to his dresser. He opened it, and quickly found that his clothes were gone, save for a pair of black girl’s panties.
He held them up, looking at them. Of course, he had to wear them. If they were there, they were there because that’s what would please daddy. He slipped them on. He looked in the mirror. Yes, his daddy would be happy. He bounced out of the room.
Breakfast had been simple; just an English muffin with butter and jam. Jay and Stephen found themselves herded back into the living room. Another program was on. It was a little more intense than the last one, and Jay found himself squirming, too. But neither boy could look away, and they stared, watching young boys (slaves, their brains corrected) please their daddies. It was right. It was the only way things could be.
That line of thought, which had been repeating for at least an hour, was broken by the word “practice.” Jay glanced over at his brother, suddenly short of breath. Stephen was panting too, and their eyes met. It wasn’t a second later that Jay pounced, his mouth connecting to his brother’s, their tongues entwining hungrily. Their hands searched, rubbed one another’s body. Even when the voice spoke again, ending their practice, they remained tangled with each other, cheek-to-cheek as more thoughts came to them. They wanted to finish their program so they could please daddy like good little boyslaves.
This went on; hour by hour. The boys would be programmed, then practice. They learned they loved cock. That they were gay sissies. That they would be good boys for Daddy, because they were his slaves. They’d help Daddy make other slaves by using the special socks. And every practice, the boys would shudder in pleasure, dry orgasms wracking preteen bodies.
Finally, they knelt on the floor, whispering obscene mantras of their slavery. They kept this up, even after their dad arrived and shut the TV off. The boys never looked up, until he’d sat down and cleared his throat. Their gaze raised, but never went above his waist. Daddy’s cock is a slave’s life, they whispered. Lucas smiled at his sons.
“Bedtime for sissies,” he told them. The boys shuddered, and padded to Stephen’s room, crawling into bed together. Sissies share a room. They wore no pajamas, and slept entwined with each other. Sissies sleep naked.
From the door, Lucas smiled. “That custom order was worth it,” he said to himself, watching his boys writhe in the bed for a moment longer, then closing the door to the bedroom.
Part 2
Jay squirmed in his sleep. He was warmer than normal, and it was odd having the warm shape of his brother (sissy sister) sissy sister sleeping in the bed next to him. His eyes fluttered open, and he rolled over. Stephen’s eyes fluttered open, and the two sissies smiled at one another. Jay slid forward and kissed his sissy sister on the mouth. Enthusiasm and passion overcame them, stocking clad bodies rubbing against each other and mouths opening to allow tongues to entwine before the pair slid out of bed.
They walked to the kitchen, eyes downcast, and knelt on the floor. It was their rightful place. They’d take their meals there, and never look above the waist of their master. He hadn’t learned why, but it was important to obey the rules. Sissys needed rules to follow, otherwise they’d be silly little boys who were out of control.
Jay spooned warm oatmeal into his mouth. Not his favorite- he would’ve preferred one brand of sugary cereal or another- but it would do. His thoughts drifted to what he’d learn today. Sissies like him didn’t go to public schools, so it was another day with the video and his brother. He didn’t mind, but wondered what would happen when they started making more sissies like himself.
His eyes darted over to Stephen, who was calmly kneeling, waiting for Jay to finish. Jay calmly slurped down the last dregs of oatmeal and set his bowl down. Then, without setting eyes on their Daddy, the pair clambered to their feet and quietly snuck back to what was now their shared room.
He ran right into his sissy sister, and looked around the older boy. Their panties for the day were laid out on the bed, along with a corset and skirt. The boys stared at them dully, then picked them up, and wandered into the bathroom.
Good sissies clean themselves every day. The thought echoed in Jay’s head. It wasn’t his, he knew, but a learned one from the wonderful tapes. It still made him wonder when he’d stopped thinking of himself as a boy. Of course, he wasn’t, he was a sissy, but he still wondered as he and Stephen washed each other.
They climbed out of the tub and carefully began drying each other off. Jay felt a thrill of pleasure as his brother’s towel slid between his buttcheeks and over his pussy. Yes, your pussy, your sissy pussy. He tried to shake off the thoughts, but they kept boiling up in his mind. Of course, he was thinking too much. Still trying to be a silly little boy.
They slipped into their panties; green for Stephen, blue for Jay. Jay took a moment, settling the panties just so, then let his sissy sister help him into the matching corset. Stephen pulled it tight, tying it off. Jay helped Stephen into his corset, then got his skirt on.
He looked into the mirror for a long moment. He was surprised how girly he looked, how sissy. It was appropriate. He wasn’t a boy anymore. Hadn’t been since he’d put on the glorious wonderful stockings. His mind snapped to attention, and he flounced to the living room.
Today, the stockings told him, he would finish his programming. He would stop being a good boy and become a good sissy. He smiled, straightening his skirt and sat down. Stephen did the same as the TV came on. Jay briefly noticed what looked like rubber penises (cocks) on the coffee table before the video sucked him back in.
The teaching was much more intense now, sending jolts of pleasure to his pussy and sissyclit. He learned what it was sissies did to please their Daddies. What the wonderful rubber cocks on the table were for. What a sissy’s holes were for. He felt his mouth drop open, felt himself drooling dumbly. He didn’t care. A sissy was a thing used to please Daddy. It didn’t need to be smart. In fact, drooling dumbly made him a good boy.
He knew he’d be a good boy until Daddy took away his boy-name. He had to have a girl’s name to be a true sissy. He absorbed this information, and how a sissy treated a cock the same as he’d absorbed so much the last two days. This was day three. He’d be a sissy today, he hoped.
The video stopped, echoing the same simple word. Practice. Both preteen sissies slid from the couch to the floor. Jay crawled forward, reverently taking one of the practice dildos from the table. He held it for a long moment, his mind straining against the training, but his head lowered and he kissed it. His tongue slid out over the shaft, working it, covering every exposed inch in his drool before sucking it into his throat. His head bobbed over it, mouth working up more drool, tongue lashing it in his mouth. He sucked it deep enough that he nearly threw up before pulling his head off and washing it with his tongue.
The low hum of the video began again, but Daddy’s voice came from the doorway. “Jay, come with me. Stephen, continue programming.”
Stephen stared at the video. Jay got up and scrambled after Daddy, following to the adult’s bedroom. Daddy pointed at the bed. “On there, presenting.”
Jay did so, following the video’s teachings: Face down in the bed, skirt pulled up towards his shoulders, panties pushed aside. He wasn’t prepared for Daddy to grab his shoulder, and pull him upright to look into a mirror placed at the end of the bed. As he watched, Daddy thrust his powerful Cock right into his sissy pussy. Jay cried out in pleasure, and his eyes met his reflection. The skinny 10 year old blonde boy watched his eyes, glowing almost the same blue as his corset. He watched Daddy pump into him a few times experimentally, then slip something around his neck. It looked like a plastic dog collar, the same electric blue as his corset, his skirt, his panties, his eyes. Daddy latched the collar around his neck and let Jay fall forward.
Jay whimpered, half in pleasure, half from a sudden burst of heat from where the collar’s latch had been. His face came up off the bed, meeting his reflection’s gaze once more. There was something glittering on the collar that caught his gaze next, and he looked at it. It was a tag, and he struggled to read it as Daddy plowed into his pussy.
It was a name. Jessica. A girl’s name, his mind echoed, I’m a sissy, a sissy, a sissy! A real sissy! He cried out in pleasure, the tag suddenly forgotten. He watched his eyes, the bright blue dulling as Daddy fucked out the smart boy that Jay had been. He didn’t need to be smart. Sissies were beings of pleasure.
His eyes glazed over, and in that instant Jay vanished. She was Jessica now, Jessie. She shuddered, her clitty heaving in dry orgasm as that nasty boy part of her melted away. Her brain rewired itself, and her first fuck became fragmented. She remembered screaming for Daddy to make her Jessie, to baptize her. She remembered him pulling out, covering her face in his divine cum. Remembered inviting Jay’s best friend over, her disgust at having to play the stupid boy again. But it was for Daddy, all for Daddy.
Her mind came back to her as Daddy gave her a new dildo to suck, plugged her sissy pussy, and sent her back to her room. She wandered in to find it changed. The bed and dresser were gone, replaced with a few chests and a lot of plump cushions on the floor. She sucked her dildo happily, realizing why it had been changed.
She was going to help Daddy make her some more sissy sisters.
She curled up on the cushion, looking up at the screen on the ceiling. It hummed, came to life. She sucked contently, soaking up her new role in life, letting her sissy self be reinforced. She was barely aware when her sister came in. She looked at her, eyes looking at her collar.
Stephanie. Her sister, Steffie. Both sissies pulled their dildos from their mouths and shared a long, sloppy kiss before going back to watching the screen and sucking on the replica cocks.
