Honey’s Sissy Tease: Becoming Her Pretty Plaything
When he first knocked on my door, he was just a shy boy with flushed cheeks and downcast eyes. I could tell right away—he had that special sparkle, the one that says he’s been dreaming of lace and lipstick in secret. I smiled my sweetest pinup smile, batted my lashes, and invited him in. “Come here, darling,” I purred. “Miss Honey’s going to make you feel so pretty tonight.”
We started slow, the way good things do. I sat him down at my vanity, all chrome and pink satin, and began with the basics. “First lesson: foundation,” I whispered, brushing soft powder across his cheeks. He shivered when my fingertips grazed his skin. Next came blush—rosy circles that made him look like a blushing doll. I leaned in close so he could smell my perfume, then carefully lined his eyes with kohl, teaching him to flutter his lashes just like mine.
“Now the fun part,” I teased, holding up a pair of sheer black panties with delicate lace trim. “These are yours tonight, sweet thing. Slide them on for me.” His hands shook as he stepped into them, the silk whispering against his skin. I watched in the mirror as the fabric settled, hugging him in all the right places. “Look how cute you are,” I cooed, running a manicured nail along the waistband. “Already getting excited just from wearing them, aren’t you?”
Stockings came next—nude sheer with a sexy back seam. I knelt in front of him, rolling them slowly up his legs, my breath warm against his thigh. “Hold still, baby,” I murmured. “Good girls don’t squirm.” When they were clipped to a pretty garter belt, I stood back and clapped my hands. “Spin for me.” He turned, cheeks burning, the stockings shimmering under the soft lamplight. I couldn’t help but giggle at how adorable he looked—my perfect little project.
The final touch was the dress: a vintage-style red polka-dot number with a flared skirt and sweetheart neckline. I zipped him up, cinched the belt, then fluffed his hair into soft waves. “Almost there,” I said, picking up my favorite cherry-red lipstick. I painted his lips slowly, letting him watch in the mirror. “Pout for me, darling.” He did—perfectly. I leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, leaving a faint print. “Now you’re Miss Honey’s pretty sissy.”
I made him practice walking in heels—short, teasing steps across the room while I lounged on the chaise, legs crossed, admiring my handiwork. Every time he wobbled, I clapped and cheered. “You’re doing so well, pet. Soon you’ll be my perfect little lady.” I had him curtsey, twirl, even blow kisses to his reflection. With each command, he softened, sank deeper, let himself enjoy the pretty feelings I’d awakened.
By the end of the night he was sitting primly on my lap, lipstick still perfect, panties slightly damp, whispering “Thank you, Miss Honey” over and over. I stroked his cheek and promised more lessons—more lace, more makeup, more ways to please me. He nodded eagerly, eyes shining.
That’s how it begins with my sweet sissies. One teasing step at a time… until they’re completely mine.