Initiated By My Sister, My Ex-Girlfriend And Their Female College Classmates

I attended an all male college in the 70's. During initiation week about 15 - 20 of the 300 Freshman boys were “volunteered” to be sold at a "slave" auction to the highest bidders at the local girl's residential college. The auction was held in the girls’ dining hall during Friday’s dinner. Little did we know what the coeds would make us do over the entire Labor day weekend when they had us as their servants. I was purchased by my older sister and a large group of her friends which included my ex-girlfriend. When the auction ended, I was informed by my sister that my high school hazing was nothing compared to what they had planned and that that by the end of the holiday all of the "slaves" would have a better idea of what it is like to be a girl. Our “Lady Lessons ” quickly began as we had our legs shaved to the delight of the crowd of cheering coeds. After being shaved, each boy was led out of the cafeteria by the gaggle of girls who had bought him. When I finally was taken outside, I saw that a few of the boys were now dressed in outlandish outfits. These included a bathing beauty, a cleaning lady, a field hockey player , and a female cheerleader. I realized that the girls were well prepared and organized for this annual event where they got the opportunity to have 3 days with young men under their thumbs. Many coeds saw this as payback time for every male injustice they had ever experienced. As we passed each of the embarrassed boys, my new mistresses stopped to admire the creativity of other girls and laughingly suggested that I might be soon dressed in a similar outfit. When I asked what I was going to have do, they laughed and said that my sister and ex-girlfriend had lots of ideas and the outfit and/or outfits the group had chosen would definitely help me learn what it is like to be a girl.

I soon learned my fate as I was taken to a dorm and ordered to return from the lobby’s men's room wearing only the diaper they handed me along with a bag for all my clothes . I did as I was told and was then taken to a room where the rest of my outfit awaited. Later when we returned to the lobby, I was dressed as a little baby girl in a short frilly pink baby doll nightie that barely covered my diaper and frilly rumba panties. I had been given new hairdo complete with a big precious pink bow. Soon I was on display in the girl’s student center with the other volunteers. After an eternity of teasing by numerous coeds, one girl told my mistresses that little babies can only crawl, talk baby talk, or cry so I should act my age. They thought that was a wonderful observation and I was made to act accordingly. Later when I asked to be allowed to walk, I was told to ask properly. For about 1/2 hour with a pacifier in my mouth, I provided entertainment to them and others as I pleaded in baby talk that I was a big girl - not a baby. Finally, a vote was suggested. I was made to crawl to the stage to plead my case to all in attendance. Some of the other guys had already  made humiliating and embarrassing trips to the stage intended to prove to everyone that the Coeds were in charge . On stage using a microphone, I pleaded to everyone's delight in girlish baby talk that I was not a baby but a big girl. I was told I might be a big girl but that only big girls admit when they have been bad and they are then often punished. My sister and EX then proceeded to make me admit many of the bad things that I had done to them. Finally, a vote was taken and the crowd awarded me big girl status along with giving my 2 accusers the right to punish me with over their knee spankings. The crowd took great delight as my Ex and sister proceeded to spank my ruffled bottom until I was bawling like a real baby girl begging to do anything for them to stop. For the rest of the night after leaving the stage, I periodically was told, I was being a bad little girl and received spanks from different coeds. Late Friday night, I was taken back to my campus still dressed as little baby girl. I had been instructed to return to my babysitters in the morning in my baby outfit after having breakfast in my own cafeteria. At breakfast, the guys from my school enjoyed taunting the 15 auction volunteers dressed in the outfits provided by the girls.

Upon my return to my sister’s dorm early Saturday morning, she and her friends dressed me as a catholic school girl and paraded me along with the others around their campus in what they called the “Parade of the Sissies. ” Just before lunch, I was transformed into “Prissy the Frilly French Maid” and given lessons on how to curtsy, along with a makeover, high heels and glued on nails. Anyone in their cafeteria that day got to see me and a group of broken feminized Sissy boys waiting on all the coeds, obeying their every command. After lunch, “Prissy the Sissy Maid” was taken to each dorm to perform whatever tasks the girl's requested. These included shopping trips to stores and supermarkets to purchase supplies for Saturday evening’s pre-dance dorm parties. I balked at going off campus dressed like a french maid but was told that this annual event is something the townspeople know will occur each year so they just enjoy the college kids’ silliness. That afternoon consisted of many trips to a variety of stores where the shoppers delighted in seeing me and some of the other sissies being put through our paces by our female owners. Most of the girls I had to shop for invited us back to their party that evening and many asked if the maid was available to work. We did visit many of the dorm parties where I had to wait on and continually curtsy for the guests while using a girly voice. After the parties, everyone went to the student center for a school wide dance. Most of my fellow freshman, also dressed in a variety of humiliating outfits, were on display at this event. Sunday was more of the same dressed as a maid.  Prissy the Sissy Maid had definitely learned what it’s like to have pretty long nails, wear high heels and curtsey in a very short skirt.

The grad finale for the weekend was Monday night where all the " Sissies/ slaves " were to perform in a talent show for the students from both schools. The talents to be displayed were determined by the girls. Since I didn’t like to dance, my ex-girlfriend and sister decided that dancing would be my talent. I was taken to a dance supply shop/studio in the mall by the girls where I had to buy a pink leotard, tights and a Tutu. Once properly attired in the store’s dressing room, I had the privilege of receiving ballet lessons in my new outfit before being taken for a make-over at a store in the Mall. I then was made to practice my dance routine in my costume over and over as we all walked from downtown back to the campus that was about 2-3 miles away. Talk about a walk of shame. It was a beautiful September day and the streets were packed because of the Labor Day parade. It seemed like everyone in the town got to see me dance in my pretty pink outfit during that walk. Back on campus, my mistresses told me that Prissy the Pretty Pink Princess would have the privilege of dancing for her dinner in the cafeteria. The coeds delighted in seeing me and some of other boys in our latest attire as we provided a preview of our talents. That night when we arrived at the auditorium in our outfits, we realized that we were only a part of the talent show. Lots of students from both schools were performing in order to raise money. After our performances we were told that we had been great sports and they hoped we had learned our lessons well. I was then given back my bag of clothes from earlier in the weekend. For all of the boys, it had been one of the most humiliating weekends imaginable.

By the way - That ex-girlfriend eventually become my wife and my sister often reminds me of that weekend as she giggles and asks Prissy to pirouette and curtsey for her.  My wife just smiles since she secretly knows who really wears the pants in our house and that her submissive straight husband is often made to wear the panties,  Prissy the Sissy Maid, according to her, still has a lot to learn about being a girl and what girls endure.  Frequently, she’s been more than willing to make me learn with new humiliating or embarrassing lessons.