Sunday, August 8, 2010


Yes, I am still in England.  I cannot believe it is already August and I arrived April 1st.  So you might wonder how my little munchkins/my little waywards of the Academy have been managing without Me.  Well, in truth, I could not leave them floundering around in frills and ruffles or kinkerly clad, without my encouraging words of wisdom.  So, basically I've made myself available, just not so often. After all, for the most part I am... only a phone call away. 
So, a little ketchup.

London is full of wonderful sights, and you never know what characters are going to appear--bit like my phone calls, really.  Anyway, I thought I would share this with my gurls.  There is a way to dress up ridiculously sissified, and present yourself out in public, and... even make a few 'bob' from an audience of many.   Let me show you...

Oh, isn't he adorable, and as you can see this copper was having a ball.  Dressed in his little tutu, strutting his stuff and making.... wait for it, a 'bob or two'.  Wonderful characters/punters/artists are scattered along the Thames Embankment.  It was rather fun to see him though as I remember him being here in tutu over two years ago when I last visited.

There is something so totally ridiculous about a man in a tutu.  The immediate response is to just giggle. Man in tights, however...  can be impressive.

What about pantyhose (called tights in the UK)?  I've always said that men can look very sexy in sheer pantyhose.  It can also be  very erotic if both  woman and sexual partner (male) don pantyhose and rub up against each other. It makes for some interesting friction. Slipping and sliding back and forth, rubbing, pressing against the hips, the bottom, the crotch, the inner thighs.  And why limit oneself to pantyhose; a man can still look sexy in a silky or nylon pair of French cut panties, pulled up nice and tight over the pantyhose.  But...  once ruffles are added, how quickly lust disintegrates into giggles.  I can dress a man in very feminine garments and find him so hot and sexy I just want to rip his panties off!   I can also dress a man in feminine garments and find him so absolutely pathetic, all I want to do is ridicule him. It's just not fair is it.  What makes one man in panties a total sissy, and another man hot?  Perhaps it is all in the attitude, confidence, and openness in his desire to be accepted rather than scorned.

This is Ms. London's random thoughts
until the next entry.
Rachael, if you are reading this, call me, darling!

Saturday, May 22, 2010

where in the world is Ms. London?

In the city of London.  Yes, my recent disappearing act is due to travelling to the UK and Europe. Still able to hold court at the Academy, but definitely less attentive to the needs of my sissies.  Aaawwwww.

Actually, I am feeling very fortunate in that I can work in any city, wthin practically any continent and still go about my affairs as if I was still in the USA, and in this case, still at the Academy.

London is fun and exciting, and it's nice to be heeling around my old stomping grounds.  I wonder if I will bump into rachael my whore--wouldn't that be so funny.  Well, next week I plan on visiting France for a few days, renewing an old friendship. 

Anyways, isn't this just so sweet.  It would make the cutest little sissy cottage.  I can just see pink petticoats and little pink bloomers hanging out on the line.  Right by the sea too,  so a little sissy could look out the window and drool over all the husky fishermen, bare-chested, brawny big lads, with their BIG catch of the day.  That's right, take a big sigh, and pack your suitcase for Aldbro.

And, wouldn't this be just the best building for a Countryside Academy for Sissies?

Well, my beauties, it's time for me to disappear.  Until the next entry,
Ms. London in London.x

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Fallen Prey

What an unusual – no, not so unusual, really – call. allie. Disquieted. Unsettled. Clearly, from the moment after she said hello, she felt tangled up in something. It turned out to have been a post on my blog! It turns out that Rachael’s estrogen cream struck a chord with allie.

Let’s make a very long story short, or reasonably so. At a certain point in her life, after bonds had been tied, if not probingly knitted, she came to realize that those passing, fleeting notions of taboo eroticism simply weren’t going to go away, regardless of what other obligations and responsibilities she had. she couldn’t wish them away, will them away, or send them away on a rocket ship to Mars. They were there, embedded deep in her core.

Yes, of course allie was, and is, a man, genetically speaking. But feelings she’d had from nearly as long as she could remember involved a feeling of surrender to the feminine. The silent brush of lipstick across a woman’s lips, the rustle of the skirt, the click of a heel on a wooden floor. They all stirred a sense of anticipation. Of expectation. Of safety and fulfillment on some very deep level.

So many things for a sensitive, observant, seductive woman to work with and use, and yet … sooo many women oblivious. And allie, much to her disappointment, remained free of the binding web that gradually unfurls as dim recollections are unearthed and explored with a Woman of substance.

So, unmet went the feelings that stirred allie’s core, and yet they lingered. Quiet at times. And then less so. her feelings reemerged, of course, first in the superficial wish to be dominated and overrun – a lovely playtime, but hardly the core of much of anything – and then, gradually, taken in hand and brought to accept all those horrible things that she would be subjected to as a submissive.

The feel of a heel lightly pressed against her flesh as she lay prostate on the floor, that wonderful symbol of the superior Woman. The gloved hand holding firmly to her face as she was chastised and scolded. The cinching bonds of the cuff around her wrist as she became vulnerable to the ministrations of a knowing Woman who would taunt and punish her for her weakness. The cool and then burn of icy hot applied to her sac.

All those horrible things, of course, were safer in the hands of someone who didn’t really care about her. They were imposed. Forced. Not part of her. No. Not at all.

But then, as with so many people of My acquaintance, a dim, distant light went on.
They were part of her. And acceptance would set her free.

Or so she thought when she made the acquaintance of a woman who was interested in allie’s openness to exploration and new revelation.

And for a time it did. allie could talk about anything and be accepted. And she felt free.

That was until the middle of the second month of the orally ingested hormones, when things started to develop. And there she was, a budding beauty. Oh, no, not voluptuous, but certainly noticeable. Visible to anyone paying attention, those increasingly round protrusions emerging from her chest. Increasingly free of her inhibitions, she was also disengaging in some ways from the very things that had tethered her to her increasingly boring, blandly vanilla life.

It wasn’t only the flesh of her chest that was stretching. Under the caring guidance of her new friend, other things stretched, as well. She skin of her sac. The tight band of muscle of her sphincter.

Also stretched, and reshaped, was her sense of herself. What had once seemed unspeakable and horrible had quickly become part of her nearly every day existence. What had once been terrifying became the norm, and what had once been normal became uninteresting. And she felt fulfilled.

allie’s story, dear readers, could lead to the sunset and the happily ever after ending that we would all want for her. But of course she did have other obligations, and responsibilities, and, sadly for her, her woman friend became impatient and a bit distracted.

And then, quite suddenly, allie was free – entirely too much so. Her partner in exploration made the acquaintance of a new partner, one whose breasts needed no external ingestion to develop, and allie was free from the much-desired bond that had liberated her. allie’s extra-curricular partner was still accepting – just not of allie. She quickly became increasingly distant and, finally, entirely unavailable.

Much to allie’s dismay, which is precisely how she, after a bit of searching, came upon my doorstep.

Lucky her. she reached out to Me, tangled in a tightly woven but neglected web with no one there to make sure the strands were secure and orderly. It took some time for her to explain all this, for her to get it out, and I must say her entire being seemed to both relax and flower – the conversation one, long exhale of relief, one fraught with emotion and, at times, distress, but relief.

And then the shiver and shudder. To be honest, I saw no point in putting her in a position of disconsolate vulnerability. It certainly wasn’t malice that prompted me to ask her to admit to it all. Just caring and the desire to nurture her. So you’ll just have to trust Me when I tell you that her tears were tears of gratitude, streaming down her face, as I helped her express her true state: damaged, and disengaged from the rest of her life, and grateful to be speaking again to someone who understood her helpless enslavement to an inner being alien to the world around her.

No, I don’t think of allie as all that unusual.

I think of her as fallen prey.

Ms. London

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Rachael's a Whore

but the good thing is, she is so proud to be the Mistress's whore.  As she has said, several times, over rather a long period of time, this is what she deserves.  We had one of our lengthy chats and she lovingly stated I have changed her so much.  In turn, I lovingly explained to her that I had not changed her, but merely opened her eyes. You see, the slut, the whore, was there all the time, but she was lost and couldn't find her way.  I have helped with that.  If the reader casts back, Rachael was first known as Rubin, but those days have long passed. 

Rachael and I have a few Q and A to share with the readers.  Perhaps some of you might enjoy asking yourself the same questions. 

Q.  Favorite place to have SEX?
A.  A hotel

Q.  Favorite sexual position?
A.  Missionary

Q.  Favorite size in penis?
A.  7 or 8 inches

Q  Favorite position in giving fallacio?
A.  On the knees

Q.  Favorite item of clothing?
A.  Stiletto heels
Q.  Favorite activity?
A.  Shopping for clothes
Q.  Most admired female?
A.  Mistress Beverly    (ok. I didn't ask that, but the answer would surely be me)

I mention questions and answers because a lot of the time, questions are never asked of a submissive/sissy/whatever, and in order to open the eyes, one first has to glean a little of what's inside.

Anyway, through more questioning, it seems Rachael has been using estrogen cream.  Breasts have become more sensitive, emotions become more fragile, mood swings, and soft is yesterday's hard.  Orgasms not the top priority, (although, with Rachael, they never were) and when orgasm is reached it feels more emotional and submissive in the release.  Sexual appetite has not deminished, which was obvious to me, when we discussed the sexual experiences of the last couple of weeks.  She's a whore, has casual sex with any man, and enjoys being humiliated by men--"its her party, and she'll cry if she wants to, cry if she wants to.  You would cry to if it happened to you..."  I won't go into the details on this one.  I think I've written of this in previous posts.

You know, my sissies do love it when I write about them.  They even love reading about my experiences with my other sissies.  It's a Sissy World in London, and we do have a lot of fun.

Rachael, you are doing very well, and I thank you for all the lovely money you give me from your handbag.  I so enjoy being your sort of Scarlet Pimp-ernel!

Oh, now on to Sissy H.  My goodness, this sissy beats 'em all, in size that is.  No, no.... I mean in taking the Dildo Monster.  I am not exagerating when I say 14 inches, and it disappeared into the.... Nether Region, the Hole of Calcutta, the Orifice, the Chanel, through the posterior opening of the alimentary canal, deep in to the abyss...  An Olympian dildo slut!  Certainly, a record that probably won't be broken, at least not on my watch. I was impressed with the performance, and I can tell you now... I would run a mile from it!  14 inches????  Get out of here!  No, I mean, get out of here.  Sissy H is fairly new to my flock, but he has been a submissive for years.  He is very secure with his feminine side and loves to please, please, please.  He also loves that dildo.

and until the next time,
Ms. London.

Monday, February 1, 2010

Caroline and Adam

Real Girlwhat fun this weekend.  Sissies galore!  From good girls to bad girls, Mistress whipped up some fun and games.  Mind you, I was actually trying to be more 'evil', but it's difficult to be evil when the silly boy girls play so nicely for me. 
Anyway, I have taken on a semi-secretary, who goes by the name Caroline.  I have my little secretary doing all sorts of odd jobs for me and also putting on a show for me.  Below, in Caroline's words, is her assignment to write something embarrassing about herself and our relationship. 

I am Mistress's pet. I have a condition, known as juvenlie genitalia, which means i have very small sexual organs. Mistress helps me to understand this, and helps me to come to terms with it.
She recognised it quite some time ago, when we were talking and I was serving her on the phone, and doing my best to please Her. She recognised that I was not sufficiently man enough, either in size or hormones to be the sort of man who could satisfy Her sexually, hence She is helping me and training me to find other ways to please Her.
We are exploring a role where I am caroline, her secretary, rather than the silly boy name I have.
I’m currently writing this at Her behest, dressed up as a goth chick, in leather collar, rock t-shirt, leather belt, fishnet stockings and lacy panties. This is my weekend outfit – through the week I prefer to be in white blouse, and leather pencil skirt, and vampy red lipstick as I do Mistress bidding – filing, secretarial tasks, attending to Her capricious whims.
However, I am only training to be a girl. In reality I cant hope to be a girl properly, as although my sexual organ is too small to be of use to women, it is also too large to be a proper female sexual organ – but only just. I can only hope that Mistress can help me to carve out a role as neither man nor woman, but a wimpy man, and/or slutty girl to suit Her tastes, in which I can do what I want to do most – please Her.
When I am a good submissive for Her, she lets me have release. However She makes sure it is achieved in a way that is thoroughly humiliating for me – generally involving me humping something, whilst watching something suitably titillating and chosen by Her. Im not allowed release in any conventional way – it has to be by rubbing something against my organs – a way that neither a boy nor girl would normally cum perhaps.
She is wonderful, and I love Her when She is nice to me, and I love Her when She is mean to me. ThankYou Mistress.

Now wasn't that sweet?  Anyway, we had great fun at the end of the day.  I put on Adam Lambert singing 'For your Entertainment'.  I do think Adam is so glam and sexy.  I told Caroline I would definitely 'do' him, and this seemed to inspire little Caroline to dance to the song, and try to be more like Adam, to better entertain me and maybe, just possibly, actually... arouse me! 

Well, quite honestly, Caroline has danced and masturbated to Kylie Monogue for years.  It was time for Mistress to have her fantasy.

Here's Adam Lambert, who really is absolutely gorgeous.  Some men can really pull off the whole glam thing.

Ms. London.

p.s. I notice the followers are not showing up.  Little weird, but I think a few people are having the same error message as I am receiving.  I have changed the template.  I think this is somehow cleaner and more stream lined.  Did I just say cleaner? 

Friday, January 8, 2010

Happy New Year!

As we head into 2010, I am looking forward to having fun with this blog.  Yes, I have been quite deligent in my entries in 2009, but I hope to improve on the quantity as this year progresses.

I'm thinking it is good to branch out a little, but still within the folds of a petticoat blog.  This translates to: a touch of humiliation, a drop of the ridiculous, a hint of the sublime, a pinch of sexy, a dab of debauchery, a tbs. of helpful hints, a tsp. of general feminization, and a glob of good humour.

What is needed still is a cupful of revelations, a sprinking of novel links, and more comments!  Yes, I do appreciate the comments I have received from visitors who pop in, but written comment is always welcome too.

I'm not Greta Garbo.  I do not vant to be alone.   

Anyway, this link was forwarded to me by one of my gurls, and I thought the song quite lovely with the video.


Fun, yes.

"if i could escape and recreate a place of my world..." 

Wishing you all a Happy Happy 2010.