A week to go before the Halloween dance that the company sponsored. Since we made costumes for the holiday it was a big thing for us. The costumes had already been shipped months ago so that they would be in the stores in time for the holiday. We made better costumes, not the cheap stuff that the mass marketers sold. Our customers were costume shops and some fancier party goods stores. To supplement that we had our own internet website where we marketed our wares, especially our high end costumes. The retail price of our costumes was usually in the hundred to two hundred dollar price range. Preliminary reports back from our customers this year hinted at sales far in excess of previous years. Our internet sales pretty much verified that conclusion, especially last minute sales to those who couldn’t find what they were looking for locally. The last day of shipping we had sent out five hundred and fifty-two next day air parcels.
After the costumes were shipped out, that pretty much ended the huge push we had every year. Usually from July to the end of September we were humping it to get as much produced and shipped as possible. Once that stopped most every body concentrated on what costumes we were going to produce for next year. September was spent developing new costumes for the upcoming season, our Halloween dance used to try them out and judge their popularity. The only exception was our shipping department fulfilling last minute internet sales.
Traditionally the employees would wear the costumes to the dance, family and friends letting us know their opinion of the next year’s selections. In my case, my family was my wife and her parents. My parents lived all the way across the country and usually did not make the trek, even though they were invited every year. There was about two hundred employees that worked for the company, the seamstresses contracted to do the sewing not really an employee of the company. The guys in the warehouse were excused for having to wear a costume, their size usually exempting them from anything that might possibly fit. Since we were not shipping much, except internet sales, this is the time they arranged vacations and took time to attend to other matters.
That left about a hundred and fifty employees that would model our next year’s ideas for costumes. From that group we would select about a hundred costumes to be put into production, that figure further diminished when customer reactions to our catalog and website were taken into consideration.
This year we had put eighty seven costumes into production, about average for any previous year. I was in charge of taking the ideas that our employees came up with and figuring how much it would cost us to make that costume. After the selection process I bought the materials to produce the costume and worked with the contract seamstresses in how it would be put together. Sometimes I would have to adjust the cost or make minor changes to the costume to keep it priced so we would be able to sell it. Then after it was in production I had to monitor the sales of the costumes and make adjustments in how many of a costume was produced.
Not a difficult job, but usually entailing a lot of paper pushing before the costume was ready to be shipped. Now with computers that meant a lot of time behind a keyboard. For any one costume I had a binder with cost, material sources, projected sales, actual orders and cost of production including sewing time. For however many costumes were selected to be produced a binder for each. Now each costume had a separate spreadsheet supplying all that information.
Over the years there were mistakes made, a small adjacent warehouse holding those mistakes. For instance we had a lot of super hero costumes left, several mistakes made that year. We had projected it would be super hot, but by the time the holiday arrived the craze had already peeked and we ended up making a series of costumes patterned after a TV show at the last minute which managed to save our butt. There were other mistakes made but none to the degree of the super hero disaster.
My assistant and partner in crime always tried to devise a costume utilizing some of these mistakes, she figured if she was successful it might mean a bonus for her. She was trying to scrape enough together to pay off the mortgage on her house, which would help her immensely. She was divorced raising two kids by herself. I often helped her out when I could, giving her extra jobs not under her regular duties which earned her some overtime.
The employees were very inventive this year, by the middle of September we had over two hundred ideas submitted. After evaluating some of those ideas we narrowed it down to a number that would allow each of our employees to have a new costume idea to wear to the dance. Marissa, my assistant, wanted me to wear her idea, my smaller frame a perfect match for her idea. She got with my wife, saying she needed a little help getting me ready to wear her costume. She was so excited in her preparations that I just sighed and let them plan my appearance at the dance. Over the years I have been almost every character that you could think of, last year I appeared as a ballerina, again my small size seemed to get me in a female costume more often than not.
I was only five foot six and weighted about a hundred and thirty pounds, actually only one hundred twenty pounds but I will never admit to that figure. It embarrassed me, most of the time I weighed less than my wife, an unusual situation for a male. My wife Angie warned me that I would again be attired as a female, but Marissa was so excited, for me to just go with it. I would need to spend a day at her salon, nothing permanent to be done to me. Then I would be dressed there and she will come by to pick me up and take me to the dance. I raised my eyebrows at that statement, but Angie’s huge smirk kept me from making any comments. She informed me that the appointment had already been made, and I would be pampered and made ready for my debut.
Over the next few days I was stared at by the CEO of the company several times, a giggle escaping from her mouth soon thereafter. Debbie, the CEO, is a true gem, easy to work with and quite intelligent. Her contacts within the industry and our customer base kept us above water several times when the economy was depressed. She managed to make the connections to get us the needed customers or move a slow selling product out before we got stuck with it. The super hero mess was the only major thing she was not able to fix.
I presume Marissa has shared my costume selection with her and several other female upper level management. No outright laughter but lots of smiles and smirks. Our last sales figures from our customers pointed to a banner year for them, thus assuring us a good start on next year for us. If our customers did good, they were usually more willing to take chances on their purchases for next year making our outlook for next year quite favorable.
Angie warned me that some parts of my costume might be intimidating, but Marissa had made sure everything used in my costume came from the left overs from previous years. Each year we were able to move some of the leftovers, but not enough for us to gain financially from it. At the present rate of sales of these leftovers we have ten years worth stored in that warehouse.
The morning of my salon appointment and the subsequent dance that evening arrived, Angie sending me off making me promise to do everything I was told, no protests, and no complaints. She promised she would make it up to me that evening and for the rest of the weekend. The kiss she gave me as I left the house definitely left me gasping and anxious for the dance to be over with and the weekends activities to commence.
I was surprised to be picked up by the salon’s limo, a gorgeous female driver getting my door and making me comfortable in the back seat. I was given a glass of wine for the trip and thirty minutes later we arrived at the salon. I was impressed, my mouth hanging open at the sight before me. I had never been with Angie when she used the salon, thinking it was some small beauty shop that over charged for their services. The place was huge, and oh so feminine. I imagined me just entering would move my gender toward the female perspective.
I was led by the chauffeur to a room near the back of the salon, asked to remove my clothes and my technician would be with me shortly. An intimidating lady entered scanned my body and rubbed her hands together savoring the challenge before her. She introduced herself and quickly removed my boxers that I had left on to try and maintain a little modesty. I was covered in a cream, the end result would be no body hair after it was washed off. In most cases it was permanent, not requiring another treatment to keep my body hair free. I was never very masculine, so having no body hair was not a problem for me.
She then sat me in a chair and washed and conditioned my hair. Then started applying other chemicals to it, each one washed out after some time. The she started winding my hair in curlers, after she sprayed a liquid on each lock of hair. The hair was thoroughly soaked, I could feel the extra moisture running down my neck. She wiped up the extra moisture, then wrapped a plastic bag around my head followed by a large towel around that.
I was next moved to a table where I was laid on my back, my head slightly elevated on a pillow. I could feel the curlers pressing into my head, I guess a necessary sacrifice to look pretty. Two breast forms were glued onto my chest, the weight and size quite noticeable. Then she moved to my groin, moving my male appendage back between my legs and then proceeded to glue him there so as to create a smooth female front. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable, already this is more then was done in past years to convert me to the female gender. It seemed a little much for a Halloween dance but I remembered my promise to Angie. I did immediately think of the upcoming weekend, wondering if junior could be unglued for the promised activities.
In the next couple of hours my eyebrows were shaped into two delicate high arches, and my fingernails received long extensions, then a bright red polish to make them stand out and be noticed. As I glimpsed at the mirror behind my technician there was no male image there anymore. Even with curlers and no makeup the image was female. I sighed a couple of times, remembering my damn promise to keep any comments to myself and accept what they were doing to me with a smile. Though the best I could do now was a half hearted smile.
She did get around to makeup for me, as she was applying it the makeup seemed almost juvenile. All of the normal cosmetic items were used but not producing an adult look. The rouge was heavier than I have seen on any female and the eyelashes were done in a heavy mascaraed effect with no eye shadow or eyeliner. The lipstick was a dark pink, then she added a clear gloss over it that had a glitter effect on the lipstick below it. I can imagine if my hairstyle is also childish I will look like a large sissy.
Oh gawd, that is what my costume is going to be. To prove my guess was correct a feminine dress is brought in and hung on a hanger at the side of the room. The dress had miles of lace on it, with two large ribbons that tied in the back in a huge bow. A hanger full of petticoats is hung in front of it, I am sure the perfect compliment to the dress. The dress was so short, I doubted it would cover my panties when on. It was not from the superhero disaster, but another smaller fiasco involving females dressing as little girls.
She sprayed my makeup, telling me that the spray would keep the makeup set for thirty-six hours, no need to worry about keeping it fresh and pretty. Then she slipped on the petticoats, followed by the dress. I had already donned a bra and panties, so now I was dressed in my costume. I was right about the dress, the hem barely covering my panties. A pair of heels with a buckle strap around the ankle completed the outfit.
I was glued to my image in the mirror, nothing of the old me was left. Angie appeared at the door to the room, a huge smile spreading over her face. She had a few items in her hands, dropping them on the table as she attacked my persona. I was hugged hard, then pushed back so she could see me from all angles. This went on for several minutes then she looked at her watch and shook her head. I was turned away from her as she grabbed each of my hands and slipped them into something that looked like a glove. Since she was behind me and had pulled my hand behind my back I was not aware of what she was doing until she released the hand. By then she had already grabbed my other hand and was slipping it into the glove.
The gloves were covered in lace, looking nothing like a regular glove. They had a band that fastened tightly around the wrist, making the gloves impossible to slide off. After a few moments I remembered the gloves, they were part of an adult baby costume that we had some calls for from our customers, but they never took their order, leaving us stuck with several special orders. I don’t remember the lace though, must be something Marissa had added to the items.
Still behind me she snapped a collar around my neck, doing something with the catch at the back. The collar was fairly high, pretty much stopping me from looking down. Again, I suddenly remember the collar, part of a dominatrix costume that failed several years ago. A belt was added around my waist and my gloves were attached to the belt at my sides. I was backed up to the table and laid back on it. Something was attached to my collar and apparently fastened to the table preventing me from lifting my head. Angie lifted my dress while grabbing a hold of my panties and sliding them down my legs.
I started to protest, but a pacifier was inserted into my mouth and the strap attached behind my head. She leaned closer, whispering that I had no choice, but if I continue to protest she has some more accessories that she can utilize, most of them a lot more embarrassing that what I was going to end up with. I got a kiss on the tip of my nose and she continued in my preparation. I just sighed, fearing the worse and most likely receiving it.
A few moments later as she had me lift my rear in the air, I suddenly figured out what she was doing. She was going to diaper me, here I was a grown male and an executive in the company and was being diapered by my wife. She used a wipe to cleanse me, then baby powder. The diaper was placed under me, then pulled up tight and secured with some pink diaper pins. The smell of the baby powder infiltrating the whole room. Even if they could not see my diaper I am sure they could smell the baby powder scent on me. When she finished I couldn’t put my legs together for all the material bunched up between my legs. She had added some soft shoes or socks to my feet, probably the baby booties from the same adult baby costume. I let out a groan, at my situation, then a swat on my butt quickly stopping any more vocalizations.
Another whisper from Angie telling me she used another diaper folded as a soaker to handle me all through the evening. I vowed not to drink anything, only to have my pacifier removed and a warm bottle of milk in a baby bottle replace it. I tried to resist, but Angie rubbing up and down my throat caused me to suck on the bottle. It tasted good so I continued not realizing till later that I was setting myself up for disaster. Maybe she will let me out of the diaper before it gets to that point.
She added some contact lenses to my eyes, having to try several times to slip them in. Now my vision was blurred, just seeing objects not any idea of what they were or who. I was released from the table and taken out to her car, hearing lots of compliments on my costume and looks. I was driven to the company offices, she parked and soon there were several employees there to help her. Because of my fuzzy vision I couldn’t see who but I thought I recognized several voices. I heard some laughter and giggles as I was lifted from the passenger seat and placed in an object and a strap tightened around my waist holding me secure in it. Then I was wheeled into the warehouse where we were having the dance. I soon found out I was in a baby carriage, sized to accommodate me. The comments from a lot of the attendees cluing me in to my predicament.
With the gloves on, my vision blurred and strapped into the carriage I was pretty much screwed. I was instantly red, although I couldn’t see if I was actually that color. It seemed we were right in the middle of the crowd. The voices of my admirers many and loud. Then I was helped out of the carriage and placed in something else, a blanket or something padded underneath me. Another strap employed and I was unable to move from where I was put. I was quietly calling for Angie, hoping I could ger her attention to stop this crazy scenario from going any further. I got another baby bottle shoved in my mouth and moved back and forth till I started sucking on it. At the same time I felt my bladder release, the suddenness of it shocked me, I immediately started crying wanting all of this to end and now. Why I started crying I have no idea, such a unmasculine response to how I am being treated. I should be shouting or angry, but instead I was frustrated, not so quietly shedding loads of tears.
Angie did reach down and rub the top of my head, but withheld any further contact with me. She told me to get all of my angst out however I am staying dressed as I am until the dance is over. Now finish you bottle and take a nap.
Marissa did come by, placing a doll in my arms, giggling and saying how cute I was. Then I was complimented on being such a sissy, maybe a better place for me than in the adult world. I did not appreciate her comments one bit. I did end up finishing the bottle, the urge to suck on it overwhelming at times. Then my eyes became heavy and I was soon sound asleep. Angie kissing me on the tip of my nose woke me, I was confused and disorientated until I remembered my situation. Then the blush of red overtook me as I saw all of the people gathered around my crib. Somehow the contacts that made my life blurry had been removed and all was now in focus. I had the doll in my arms and was holding it tight to my body. I realized I had a pacifier in my mouth again and was furiously sucking on it, trying to ease my stress somehow.
I was kissed, hugged and cuddled by a lot of the female employees as the dance wound down. Now maybe I will get out of these clothes and diaper and be allowed to be normal again. A few of the males appeared at the side of the crib and I was lifted and placed back in the baby carriage. Marissa pushed me outside and I was placed in Angie’s car. I just sighed heavily my apparent ordeal is not to be over for some time. Angie was there to fasten my seat belt and she drove us home. Now I was getting worried, still no mention of me getting out of the dress and diapers, my soaking wet diapers.
I was dragged into the house, and taken to our bedroom. I was laid on the bed, as she gathered the things necessary to change my diaper. I tried to protest but Angie reminded me that sissy’s who do not cooperate get put to bed wet and are not given any nourishment. I was about to protest, this has went on too long, but the nipple of a baby bottle shoved in my mouth stopped all protests. So being the submissive sissy I have apparently become I just sucked on the bottle. It wasn’t ten minutes later when my eyes closed and I was out for the count. I think Angie had managed to get my diaper changed but that was just a thought, not sure at all if it was actually accomplished. I am sure there was something in the milk bottle to help me sleep, since it wasn’t twenty minutes after I started on the bottle that I slipped off into dreamland.
I awoke later to being kissed, a wet sloppy kiss on my nose then she moved to my eyes and ears. I remember back to my childhood, seeing my younger sisters treated this way often. My clothes were changed, still a dress to wear this one with lots of slips underneath keeping the skirt flared out. I did get my diaper changed again, it felt so good to get that cold wet diaper off and be cleaned and re-powdered. I was taken to the kitchen and helped up into a new chair that I had not seen before. It looked a lot like a high chair but there was no tray in front. The tray appeared and as she pushed it into the track for it I heard a click and found my arms and hands trapped underneath the tray. She sat facing me in a regular chair we used at the table and stuck a pacifier in my mouth. I started to spit it out, but her finger waving in front of me stopped that action.
She started her explanation, asking me to listen to all of it before I make any comments. “When this all started it seemed comical, to see you as a form of a sissy, bedecked in your cute dresses and panties. The more it was talked about almost everyone expressed the desire to see you this way. I don’t think they were trying to be mean, just that they could see you being a sissy and enjoying it. Something in your actions and behavior seemed to fit the costume. Of course it morphed, things added to the costume and more and more employees wanting to get in the act or help out. The guys in the warehouse built your baby carriage, your playpen and of course the high chair you are now confined too. They were so proud of their work, you will not believe the amount of pictures taken of you in those bits of their handiwork.”
“Well some of the pictures made it to the internet on our companies internet page. You are undoubtedly an overnight sensation since you have more requests for friends than the company has amassed in five years on the net. While you were occupied in your crib the executives have promoted you to spokesperson for the whole company. So your sissy costume is now your official dress for the time at your job. They want to do several more photo shoots, intending to sell autograph copies of your new look. The requests for pictures already in the thousands. From our customers we have received orders for your costume far in excess of our total production for the last three years. I was appointed to give you the good news since they are trying to find additional space to handle the orders now on hand. There will be only one costume made for next year, although numerous styles of dresses will be handled so each costume will be somewhat distinctive.”
“At work your job is to be a sissy, a cute feminine sissy always dressed to the hilt, kept in your play pen except when you are getting your diaper changed. Frequent naps so you are not grouchy, and fed numerous bottles of milk so that you will be needed to be changed often. Marissa will assume your duties since such a young sissy will not be able to handle the job.”
“There is a long list of female volunteers that want to change your diaper or feed you a bottle, even more that want to help you during lunch eating your jars of baby food. Twice a week technicians from the salon will visit, so that your hair is always perfectly curled. They will also see that your fingernails and toenails will be kept polished, and your lipstick kept refreshed.”
“Of course, the guys will help me get you home in the evening so that I can see to your care and feeding. You will have a crib for you to sleep in at night, so that you will not fall out of bed and hurt yourself. They will also furnish a play pen for you at home along with a high chair so you can be fed properly.”
“Now for our relationship at the present. I love my sissy, I have been drooling all during the dance waiting patiently for a chance to get you alone and show you how much I like you this way, no love you this way. So unless you are dead set against it, I will pack up your male things in the morning and you and I will go shopping for your new wardrobe. Marissa has offered to help, she also loves her new sissy boss and wants to show her appreciation for all you have done for her and now the company. So give me the word, and I will have you naked and seen to in a few seconds. No let me rephrase that. This is your life now with me, little girl dresses, diapers and baby food. Consider this my Halloween gift for you.”
I took in a huge breath, muttered a whimper and then was attacked. I don’t remember everything that happened after that, but I loved it all. A sissy for Halloween, now a babyish sissy for life. Ma Ma.
Story Complete For Now
© 2016 thru 2021 Fran Cesca Walker