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The Softest Web
#1
She knew exactly what to do to get him to where she wanted him to go.  He, of course, wanted to go there too, but just didn’t realise it yet.  It was her job – no, her mission – to bring him to that point of personal acceptance, of embracing his true nature, his babyish, sissified, emasculated, self.  Besides, she loved wearing cardigans and sweaters.  


‘Bring me my cardigan dear and help me put it on.’

‘Yes Mummy’. 

She’d found it so cute when he began calling her Mummy last weekAt her gentle prompting, and with just a little encouragement.  It had been years since anyone had addressed her like that.  And watching his reactions, she knew she had hit a sweet spot.  She told him to call her Mummy from now on, at least in the privacy of her home.

She could see his excitement as he picked up the soft, burgundy angora cardigan from the back of the chair. He lingered over it for an extra second or two, gently rubbing the fluffy garb between his fingers. It only added to her amusement.   
 
He walked over and helped her into it. She turned and smiled. 

‘You like Mummy’s fluffy cardie, don’t you?’ 

He beamed at her.  ‘Oh yes, Mummy, very much so.’ 

She smiled warmly back at him.  ‘Mummy will wear cardigans and other soft clothes for you as often as she can, my little boy.’ 

His smile grew even more wider. 

It was time.  She knew it.  He knew it too, even if he wasn’t fully conscious of it, and of its ultimate consequences. 

‘And Mummy will look after you and make sure you’re nice and secure and loved and cherished.  Would you like that?’ She knew he did. 

‘Oh yes, Mummy, very much so!’

‘Well then, in return you’ll have to be a very, very good boy for Mummy, and do exactly what Mummy says, at all times and without hesitation.’

He stood there in his high cut, tight navy-blue shorts, long white socks, polished shoes and thick grey, crew-neck sweater, feeling like he was floating on a cloud, one filled with utter joy.

‘Yes Mummy, I couldn’t think of anything more wonderful.’

She smiled, eyes twinkling.  All this from a simple check of his room last week while he was at work.  Porn, so to speak.  But not of the usual kind.  He had a stash of knitwear photos, patterns and catalogues!  Ha!  Only of females - both adults and teenagers - and female styles.  Cardigans, twinsets, turtlenecks and the like – hundreds of them, all tucked away in a suitcase under the bed.  Along with some magazines featuring cross-dressing and transvestites.  Ah, the singular fascinations and foibles of the single thirty-something man renting a room in a strange new town.  At least it explained his penchant for wearing knitwear a lot. 

She knew straightaway she could use this find.  Clearly, he was a candidate for serious feminising and babying, something she hadn’t experienced since her dear Alfie had died back in 2009.  

So, for the last week she had been effectively grooming him, drawing him in to her orb, her - in this case, knitted - web.  His fetish for soft, girlie garb, there to be exploited (in the nicest possible way), and delivering him to the feminine, fluffy world he so desperately craved.  On his terms…but not really.  For she intended taking him further than he ever imagined his fantasies could go.  That much was already clear – getting him into Alfie’s old ‘boys’ clothes was so easy! 

She crossed her arms, gently rubbing the sleeves of the cardigan with her fingers, drawing another smile.  From herself and him. 

‘Come on then, time to see what surprises Mummy has in store for you.’  She walked out the room, down the carpeted hallway, towards the stairs.  Jonathan followed, ever so excited as he took in the delights of her cardigan, and her lovely warm demeanour. 

Mummy.’  Ah, he felt so happy…                
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#2
(08-02-2019, 11:41 AM)sissysoft Wrote: ...
His fetish for soft, girlie garb, there to be exploited (in the nicest possible way), and delivering him to the feminine, fluffy world he so desperately craved.  On his terms…but not really.  For she intended taking him further than he ever imagined his fantasies could go.  That much was already clear – getting him into Alfie’s old ‘boys’ clothes was so easy! 

...   

I love the sweetness of Mummy leading the way to a pleasure and shyness that Jonathan really wanted to experience but would be so much more fun to do such a thing with someone. Looking forward to future updates!

Bobbie
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#3
Yes Bobbie, Mummies often know instinctively what's best for their adult 'boys'. Thanks for your comment.
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#4
I love the casual acceptance the boy has to give. He knows he's been caught out as a sissy, and while he may think he wants to protest, he knows inside that what 'Mummy' has in store for him is inevitable.

He's going to end up as her little boy, and she's going to do exactly as she pleases with him.
Reply
#5
(08-02-2019, 11:41 AM)sissysoft Wrote: She knew exactly what to do to get him to where she wanted him to go.  He, of course, wanted to go there too, but just didn’t realise it yet.  It was her job – no, her mission – to bring him to that point of personal acceptance, of embracing his true nature, his babyish, sissified, emasculated, self.  Besides, she loved wearing cardigans and sweaters.  


‘Bring me my cardigan dear and help me put it on.’

‘Yes Mummy’. 

She’d found it so cute when he began calling her Mummy last weekAt her gentle prompting, and with just a little encouragement.  It had been years since anyone had addressed her like that.  And watching his reactions, she knew she had hit a sweet spot.  She told him to call her Mummy from now on, at least in the privacy of her home.

She could see his excitement as he picked up the soft, burgundy angora cardigan from the back of the chair. He lingered over it for an extra second or two, gently rubbing the fluffy garb between his fingers. It only added to her amusement.   
 
He walked over and helped her into it. She turned and smiled. 

‘You like Mummy’s fluffy cardie, don’t you?’ 

He beamed at her.  ‘Oh yes, Mummy, very much so.’ 

She smiled warmly back at him.  ‘Mummy will wear cardigans and other soft clothes for you as often as she can, my little boy.’ 

His smile grew even more wider. 

It was time.  She knew it.  He knew it too, even if he wasn’t fully conscious of it, and of its ultimate consequences. 

‘And Mummy will look after you and make sure you’re nice and secure and loved and cherished.  Would you like that?’ She knew he did. 

‘Oh yes, Mummy, very much so!’

‘Well then, in return you’ll have to be a very, very good boy for Mummy, and do exactly what Mummy says, at all times and without hesitation.’

He stood there in his high cut, tight navy-blue shorts, long white socks, polished shoes and thick grey, crew-neck sweater, feeling like he was floating on a cloud, one filled with utter joy.

‘Yes Mummy, I couldn’t think of anything more wonderful.’

She smiled, eyes twinkling.  All this from a simple check of his room last week while he was at work.  Porn, so to speak.  But not of the usual kind.  He had a stash of knitwear photos, patterns and catalogues!  Ha!  Only of females - both adults and teenagers - and female styles.  Cardigans, twinsets, turtlenecks and the like – hundreds of them, all tucked away in a suitcase under the bed.  Along with some magazines featuring cross-dressing and transvestites.  Ah, the singular fascinations and foibles of the single thirty-something man renting a room in a strange new town.  At least it explained his penchant for wearing knitwear a lot. 

She knew straightaway she could use this find.  Clearly, he was a candidate for serious feminising and babying, something she hadn’t experienced since her dear Alfie had died back in 2009.  

So, for the last week she had been effectively grooming him, drawing him in to her orb, her - in this case, knitted - web.  His fetish for soft, girlie garb, there to be exploited (in the nicest possible way), and delivering him to the feminine, fluffy world he so desperately craved.  On his terms…but not really.  For she intended taking him further than he ever imagined his fantasies could go.  That much was already clear – getting him into Alfie’s old ‘boys’ clothes was so easy! 

She crossed her arms, gently rubbing the sleeves of the cardigan with her fingers, drawing another smile.  From herself and him. 

‘Come on then, time to see what surprises Mummy has in store for you.’  She walked out the room, down the carpeted hallway, towards the stairs.  Jonathan followed, ever so excited as he took in the delights of her cardigan, and her lovely warm demeanour. 

Mummy.’  Ah, he felt so happy…                
302/5000



[color=rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.87)]Hummm the feminization of a young boy by his "mother" in the softness of woolen mohair women's knitwear. Sweetness, firmness, femininity, vintage. Forced feminization, skirt, sweater, hand-knitted mohair cardigan. What's more sweet and feminine for a docile boy.
[/color]
Heart  Sissy Gislaine Mohair from France  Heart 
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#6
Thanks Sissysoft a nice story...I loved the way you enticed me into it to want to read further...where did she want him to go and why did he want to go there? And you ended it with me wanting more.

However, you end the first paragraph by saying.

Quote:Besides, she loved wearing cardigans and sweaters. 

It would have read better if you'd mentioned it at the end of this first piece of dialogue.

Quote:‘Bring me my cardigan dear and help me put it on. Mummy loves wearing cardigans and sweaters.'

When you were reaching the end of the story did you have any thoughts of continuing it? My reason for asking is,  I was left wondering if that is the end of the story or is there more to come?  At the end  of it...you wrote this.

Quote:‘Mummy.’  Ah, he felt so happy…

I feel it works better this way

Quote:'Mummy!' Jonathan exclaimed, 'I feel so happy -- it as if my chest will explode at any minute.'

The End or To be continued.

Now you've hooked the reader who will want to know more of what's to come.

Hope you're not offended by this post, I was a member of a writing group and after I'd read a story I'd receive constructive criticism on it.  It was hard to accept, how dare they say that about my story, but it's how I learned the craft of writing.

Andy J.
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#7
Hi Andy,

Thanks for your comments. I don't mind constructive criticism so no offence taken. I won't debate the content and style though - it is what it is. Written in less than an hour and designed to - hopefully - entertain. Nothing more. (The other story I posted that night was also written in about an hour).

Wasn't intending on a follow up - I love suggestion and allowing the reader to imagine how a story / situation could pan out. Allows the reader to own the story, in a sense.

All the best, sissysoft
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