There seems to be a school of thought in the world of femdom and forced feminisation that the mistress should be a tyrant. A raging aggressive harridan who makes their submissive tremble and inflicts terrible physical punishment on their weak bodies. A woman who thinks men weak and wants to trample over their rights and needs.Continue Reading
So why am I thinking about growing my husband’s feminisation and growing an FLR?
Well, growth is all around us in March. As I sit on my sofa relaxing, sipping a cold drink, my eyes are drawn out to the garden. The plants starting to spurt, green shoots and budding flowers. A promise of reds and yellows to come, pretty petals now folded waiting to burst out from hibernation. A low sun brings unexpected warmth for early spring.
Aretta put a finger to her maid’s face and ran it along a strong jaw line. Aretta’s face fixed in displeasure at what she could see.
“I can feel stubble here Juanita,” her face darkened further. “How many times do I have to tell you to be smooth. You are a girl now so you must have a smooth face.” Aretta never raised her voice, her assured authoritative manner made that unnecessary. She stared at her maid with undisguised disgust, her head lowered and her eyes narrowed. The maid cringed down, his head moving into his shoulders, eyes fixed on an imaginary spot on the wall, avoiding eye contact and awaiting the inevitable punishment. He didn’t know how to respond, he had been sure he had shaved smoothly using a five blade razor in the morning and then again in the afternoon just as Mistress Aretta insisted. He must have missed a bit; that was careless. Aretta missed nothing. Continue Reading