Part 2 ( Dressing Him Prety)

Part 2: “Dressing Him Pretty”



Sam woke up one Saturday morning feeling an odd sense of calm. The last few months had been a blur—his life now revolving around Sarah’s wishes and her subtle commands. He had become accustomed to letting her lead, though there were still moments where a flicker of resistance would rise inside him, only to be quickly extinguished by her knowing gaze.

As he stretched in bed, he noticed a neatly folded outfit laid out on the dresser, something that had become routine. But this time, the ensemble seemed different. More delicate. More… feminine.

He picked up the blouse first, its soft pink hue and lace-trimmed edges shimmering in the morning light. Next to it, there was a pair of slim-fitting white pants with a slight sheen, paired with dainty ankle socks. At the very top, he spotted a pair of shoes—light pink flats with a small bow on the front. His heart raced as he stared at the items, unsure of what to do.

Just then, Sarah walked in, catching him frozen in front of the clothes. “Good morning, love,” she said, her voice sweet but with an undertone of command. “I see you found your outfit.”

He turned to her, hesitant. “Sarah, I don’t know if—”

“Shhh,” she interrupted, stepping forward and gently placing a finger on his lips. “No need for doubts today, Sam. I want you to look pretty for me.”

He swallowed, feeling that familiar mix of confusion and longing. He had come to trust her, even when her requests pushed him to uncomfortable places. A part of him craved her approval, while another part felt the old version of himself slipping further away.

“Let me help you,” Sarah offered, taking the blouse from his hands. She motioned for him to sit down on the edge of the bed, and with gentle precision, she began to dress him. Her touch was tender but firm, as if there was no question that this was happening. She slipped the blouse over his head, the fabric brushing softly against his skin.

“You look lovely,” she murmured as she buttoned the blouse, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction.

Sam felt his cheeks flush, unsure whether it was from embarrassment or the warmth of her attention. She helped him into the slim-fitting pants next, which hugged his legs in a way that felt foreign, and yet… oddly comforting. The flats were last, their feminine design an undeniable statement of his growing submission.

Sarah stood back, admiring her work. “Stand up,” she said, her voice now authoritative.

He rose slowly, feeling the new clothes cling to him, and for the first time, he looked at himself fully in the mirror. What stared back was not the man he used to be. He was softer, more delicate, almost doll-like in the outfit Sarah had chosen. His usual ruggedness was masked by the lace and soft colors that now adorned him.

“You’re perfect,” Sarah said, her voice thick with satisfaction. “Exactly how I’ve always imagined you.”

Sam’s breath caught in his throat. There was a part of him that felt humiliated, standing there dressed like this, but at the same time, the way she looked at him—the pride and control in her eyes—made him feel… important. Special.

“Come sit with me,” Sarah instructed, patting the seat next to her by the vanity. “We’re not finished yet.”

He obeyed, sitting down quietly as she opened a drawer and pulled out a small assortment of cosmetics. His eyes widened, realizing what was coming next.

“Let’s make you even prettier,” she said, her tone playful but firm. She began with a light foundation, brushing it onto his face with expert care. Then came the blush, a subtle rosy tint to his cheeks, followed by a soft pink lip gloss that gave his lips a delicate shine.

Sam sat still, his heart pounding with every stroke of the brush. He had never felt so vulnerable in his life, completely at the mercy of her will. Yet, with each addition to his transformation, he found himself surrendering more fully to the experience.

Finally, Sarah stepped back, admiring her work. “Now,” she said, “look at yourself.”

Sam turned to the mirror once again, and this time, the transformation was undeniable. The man he had once been had been fully eclipsed. In his place was a soft, gentle figure, his face framed with makeup and his body dressed in a way that emphasized submission and femininity.

“Do you see it now?” Sarah whispered, standing behind him, her hands resting gently on his shoulders. “You were always meant to be like this. Mine. Pretty. Soft.”

Sam stared at his reflection, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. But as Sarah’s fingers ran through his hair, he felt a wave of acceptance wash over him. She had reshaped him, not just in appearance, but in spirit. He no longer fought the changes, no longer resisted the pull of her control.

“Thank you,” he whispered, barely recognizing his own voice.

Sarah smiled, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “Good boy,” she whispered back.

And with those words, he knew he had fully become hers.
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