One Saturday evening, in a small downtown apartment, we were celebrating the birthday of Julien, a long-time friend of Thomas. Julien was a bit of the ringleader of the group, loquacious, and easily dominated the conversation space. Fortunately, he was funny and interesting and knew how to create a festive atmosphere or spark original debates!

The table was a happy mess: half-empty wine bottles, half-full glasses, and plates piled with spaghetti bolognese next to chip packets. Laughter erupted, glasses clinked, and conversations mixed childhood memories with futuristic projections, all laced with a touch of inebriation.

Then someone announced that a childhood friend had just started their gender transition. The conversation then slid towards non-binary identities, and eventually, cross-dressing.

Julien, boosted by the wine and his overflowing enthusiasm, blurted out the words ‘sissy’ and ‘femboys.’

He spoke of ‘stuff’ discovered by chance on Insta and Twitter with a lightness and lack of modesty that made him unique. An intrigued silence hung in the air for a second, then a flurry of questions followed. Julien then revealed a bit more of everything he knew about sissification. Ultimately, we quickly realized he hadn’t discovered it by chance—feminized boys clearly attracted him!

I, Sofia, was sitting next to Thomas, my man for ten years. I listened to Julien, my dark eyes sparkling with a desire to know more. At 30, with my brown hair falling past my shoulders and a gaze that leaves no one indifferent, I know I possess a certain charisma. In our relationship, I’m the one always pushing for adventure—a spontaneous road trip or a naughty idea to spice up an evening. Thomas, 32, with his slender look of a young executive and his discreet calm, completes me perfectly.

But that evening, I saw something in his eyes while Julien was speaking. A flicker of shame, a hint of vice, a pinch of thrill. His cheeks flushed, almost imperceptibly, unless you knew him as well as I did. The words “sissy,” “sissification,” “femboy” seemed to affect him differently than mere curiosity, unlike most of the others listening. I sensed a secret, something he kept buried, and it intrigued me.

The evening continued, full of laughter and slightly too-loud music, but Julien’s words still floated in the air, like an airplane ticket to an unknown destination. When we left Julien’s apartment, the night was soft, and the alcohol was slightly blurring Thomas’s senses. I took the wheel, a mischievous smile on my lips, the car interior dark, illuminated only by the road lights. Silence settled in, broken only by the engine and the soft radio music in the background. Then, I let it drop, in a cheerful and curious voice: “So, what do you think of all that? Feminized guys? Can you imagine Julien in a little skirt—or even you?” I said, laughing.

I saw Thomas flinch, as if my question was a shock to the system. He looked away towards the window, searching for his words. “Uh… it’s… original, but Julien in a skirt, that must be something,” he stammered, with a nervous laugh. I burst out laughing, my fingers tapping the steering wheel. “I find it amusing. Maybe not Julien, although since he never stops talking, he already has everything of a woman. But a guy who wears makeup, who wears girl’s stuff? That could be super fun, maybe even exciting in a couple, couldn’t it? Imagine you in a little dress, serving me a cocktail with an apron!” I winked, with a playful laugh. I felt him troubled, lost between embarrassment and something else, something more secret. Then, in a breath, almost in spite of himself, he murmured: “If you want to try a night like that, I don’t mind. But only if it truly amuses you.”

A wave of excitement went through me. “Seriously? Oh, you’re the best! Okay, next Saturday, ‘Girls’ Night’! I’ll choose ten things to buy or lend you, and you prepare the house and the meal. Does that work for you?” He nodded, his heart pounding so hard I could almost hear it. The rest of the ride passed in a charged silence, each lost in their own thoughts. I was already imagining that evening, a smirk on my face, my head full of ideas.

The following week, I was like a kid. I immersed myself in the sissy universe, spending my evenings on forums, Twitter, and online stores, noting down ideas with a curiosity and motivation that slowly turned into excitement. I sent unusual messages to Thomas—”Have you ever thought about wearing lace?” or “I found something that will make you look too cute”—and I laughed imagining his blushing face behind his phone during a meeting. He alternated between nervousness and anticipation, which I saw in his fleeting glances when he came home from work. Packages arrived at the house, and I left them visible on the living room table; my enigmatic smiles drove him crazy with curiosity. I knew he was asking a thousand questions, and it amused me to maintain the suspense.

Saturday arrived, and the tension was deliciously exciting yet strange; we were about to take a leap into the unknown and discover another side of ourselves. At 5 PM, the house smelled of sautéed vegetables and spicy beef wok, the house was perfectly tidy, and scented candles diffused a soft light and a floral fragrance.

Thomas had isolated himself in the bathroom, following my instructions like a good student—or a good girl!

Lying on the shower mat, he applied depilatory cream to his legs, buttocks, and chest. I walked in, boxes in my arms, a mischievous smile on my lips.

“You’re already getting into the character, my darling!” I said, sitting near him, teasingly touching his arm. I unpacked my boxes with exaggerated theatricality: “So, we have a pink chastity cage—don’t worry, it’s for fun—a silicone plug with a little pink heart, striped white and blue knee-high socks, a blue lace bra and thong set, a flashy blue wig too, a super sexy black gothic dress with bluish highlights, lubricating gel, and all I need is my makeup! Do you feel ready to become my femboy tonight, my beauty?”

Thomas, red as a sweet ass after a hard spanking, murmured: “That’s, that’s a lot, isn’t it?” His voice trembled, but his eyes sparkled with excitement. I laughed, stroking his leg, still coated with cream. “You’re too cute when you’re shy. We’re doing this for fun; you’ll always be my darling Thomas, even with these pretty little panties. I love the idea! Come on, let’s rinse the cream, and we’ll transform my man into a gothic kawaii princess!”

In the shower, I rinsed the cream, removing the hair with the dedicated spatula in gentle but firm strokes, revealing smooth skin that made me smile. With an authoritative tenderness, I guided him to allow me to make him as smooth as a curling rink.

Once showered and dried, I handed him the thong, and he slipped it onto his now-smooth thighs; the lace bra hugged his chest, as hairless as possible, and the slightly flared gothic dress brushed his bare thighs.

When I adjusted the wig, I noticed the label on the dress from the brand “OthiKa”—slightly creased and the “G” was not visible.

That’s how I got the idea for my new darling’s name: “There you are, you’re OthiKa, my sweet ass, that will be your femboy name!”

He blushed up to his ears, a shy smile on his lips. Then, I tackled the makeup: light foundation, blue-toned eye contour, very pink lipstick. Stepping back, I whistled in admiration. “Damn, you look gorgeous, my darling. You’re going to make me jealous, my little OthiKa!”

I took her hand and guided her in front of the bedroom mirror, turning her so she could see herself. OthiKa—because that’s what I would call her tonight—was breathless. The silhouette in the reflection was simultaneously foreign and familiar, embarrassing and natural, sexy and feminine.

The gothic dress hugged her form, the striped socks added a fun touch, and the wig made her face look like it was straight out of a Japanese anime. I slipped behind her, my arms around her waist, my chin on her shoulder. “So, OthiKa, what do you think?” I whispered, my lips brushing her ear. She swallowed, hypnotized by her reflection. “I… I don’t know. It’s… weird. But… I like it, I don’t feel too ridiculous, but it’s truly bizarre.”

Her voice trembled with vulnerability and excitement. I laughed, amused by the situation, my hands gliding over her hips. “Weird? You’re stunning, my beauty. Wait until you see what I have planned for the evening.”

“Before you get too excited, though, we need to put on the chastity cage,” I joked! Luckily, I had watched tutorials, or we’d still be trying to figure out what goes on first!

I grabbed his testicles; they were warm and completely smooth, and one by one, I passed them through the ring, then I took his penis and slipped it into the tube. I worked quickly, afraid that my hand on his sex would make it harden! Then I closed the lock and put the key in my pocket, before returning to the living room to eat.

We had dined hundreds of times around this table, but tonight was different; a scent of novelty, excitement, and playful complicity floated in the air. OthiKa, sitting across from me, seemed to feel every brush of the dress against her skin. The sautéed vegetables were perfect, but it was my gaze that consumed her. I devoured her with my eyes, playing with this new version of him. Between two sips of white wine, I tossed out little teasing phrases: “You’re so elegant when you eat, OthiKa. A real girl!”

Then, without warning, my hand slid under the table, brushing the inside of her thigh, grazing the lace of the thong and the chastity cage. “You’re a good girl, my darling,” I whispered, with a wink. She flinched, her breath caught by excitement and shyness. “Next time, we’re putting on heels, eh? Imagine those legs in the air, my sweet ass!” I added, my laughter echoing in the room. Her smile, timid but receptive, made me want to push the game even further.

After dinner, I decided to turn up the heat. I put on a sensual playlist; slow, romantic lounge music filled the living room, and I settled onto the sofa, a glass of wine in hand. “Come on, OthiKa, show me how you move,” I said, biting my lip. She stood up, hesitant, the dress swaying slightly. Under my amused gaze, she attempted a few dance steps, clumsy but adorable. I was seduced and proud of him, or rather, her. I stood up, my hips swaying to the music, and placed my hands on her shoulders. “Let yourself go, my darling,” I murmured, into her ear. I guided her, my fingers gliding over her arms, her hips, encouraging her to sway with me. The tension rose, our bodies brushed against each other; I could feel the cage against me at times, and our eyes remained locked. With a burst of laughter, I spun her around, her dress lifting in a graceful, feminine movement. “You’re absolutely stunning, damn,” I breathed, my lips brushing hers in an almost-kiss that made my heart beat faster, just a half-kiss because I wanted her to keep her very pink lips.

The game intensified. I pulled her onto the sofa, sitting astride her thighs, playing with her blue hair. “You’re so sexy like this,” I whispered, my lips grazing her neck to make her shiver. “Do you like being my little OthiKa, my darling?” She nodded, speechless, her heart pounding. I laughed foolishly as my hands slid under the dress, exploring the smooth skin of her thighs, amused to feel the cage with my fingertips.

“We’re going to have fun, my darling. But first, I want to see you blush a bit more. I think I like seeing you melt with excitement and embarrassment, my sweet ass.” I grabbed a small box I had hidden under the sofa. From this secret chest, I pulled out a black velvet collar with a heart pendant! “Good girl,” I said, clasping it around her neck, my fingers brushing her nape. Closing her collar was such a simple gesture, yet in this context, it represented a new promise for our intimate couple’s life. She was mine, vulnerable and shy, and I adored it.

I told her to wait in the living room before joining me in the bedroom. Just enough time to change and slip into a new transparent black nightgown, with nothing underneath. “OthiKa, sweet ass, come join your Mistress in the bedroom.”

She arrived, and I pushed her onto the bed, then joined her with a feline grace and a dominant attitude. I leaned over OthiKa, my lips brushing hers, before plunging into a voracious kiss. “It’s so much fun kissing a girl with lipstick!” I said, gently biting her flashy pink lip. My hand slid under the skirt, brushing the chastity cage with avid curiosity. “Good girl, OthiKa, you are my doll tonight!” I murmured, my voice oscillating between softness and authority. I grabbed the silicone plug, which I had placed on the nightstand with a diabolical smile on my lips. “We’re going to try this, my darling. Do you trust me?” She nodded, excited despite visible apprehension.

With a movement of my hands, I encouraged her to lie on her back, then I asked her to arch her back to offer me her sweet ass. I lifted her dress, moved her thong aside, then, with sensual slowness, I applied the lubricating gel, slipping the plug in with assured gentleness, listening to her every tremor. “You’re so cute when you let go, when you surrender to me,” I said, while caressing her smooth buttocks.

I had her turn over again and settled above her face, my thighs framing her. “Make me come, my darling, show me what you can do with your made-up lips!” She plunged down, her mouth famished with excitement, devouring my pussy with blatant eagerness. I thought of his penis, which was caged for me, and that for her, only the pleasure she gave me should matter.

My moans, first light, climbed in intensity little by little, my fingers sinking into her wig. I could see her striped socks, her dress, and feel her mouth and synthetic hair between my thighs. I lifted her dress and moved her thong aside; I wanted to see her pretty little pink cage, which enclosed the virility he was losing for this evening.

I grabbed my vibrator, pressing it against the cage. The humming filled the room, and her tremors made me smile. “You’re so sexy, my good girl!” I let out, watching every spasm. I felt her pleasure in the movements of her tongue; she was devouring my pussy while moaning, which drove me crazy. I had heard that sissies could cum in the cage, and I had planned to try that experience tonight!

Caught up in the pleasure, I alternated between tender caresses and more insistent movements. I ran my hand under the dress and under the bra, gently pinching her nipples to make them harden, feeling that her body was now hairless.

“Do you like this, my little princess?” I cried out, rocking my pelvis on her face and her delicious tongue. The vibrator danced on her cage, her moans mixing with mine. In a surge of excitement, “Oh, my sweet ass, you’re perfect, a good girl for her Mistress!” I exclaimed, my thighs trembling as I felt ready to climax, smothering her with my dripping sex on her lips. It was when I felt my little OthiKa wriggle, tremble, shiver, and inhale my sex that I realized the vibe was going to make him cum despite the cage.

Then he screamed his pleasure between my thighs, and when I saw the semen gush out, splashing the dress and running down the cage, I started screaming, “Oh, damn, yes, my little slut!” The sight propelled me into a violent orgasm, my thighs squeezing her made-up face. I loved seeing his seed emerge from that cage while he was totally feminized.

Exhausted, we collapsed onto the mattress, my laughter ringing out like a sweet melody. I nestled against her, stroking her face smeared with makeup and my wetness.

“That was completely insane!” I whispered, tracing gentle circles on her cheek. Thomas, still trembling, confessed in a breath, “That was my fantasy all along…” I stared at him, a radiant smile on my face. I unlocked the cage, my eyes locked on hers. “You’re my good girl, my sweet ass, my darling, and I adore you like this, my little OthiKa.”

I kissed him softly, a kiss full of complicity, then I whispered: “Next time, we’ll try the heels, and maybe a little more role-playing. What do you think about me becoming Mistress Sofia?” He nodded, a shy smile on his lips. We embraced, our hot, messy bodies melting into one another, and we fell asleep in an embrace, me in my nightgown and him in that soiled gothic dress.