Paradise Isle, Sissy, Pt. 03

As he couldn't really bend, say to pick up something on the floor, he learned to squat. And as he couldn't see down directly in front of himself, as his breasts blocked that view, he could only succeed by squatting at an angle to whatever he was after, picking it up from the side.

And squatting like that in his four-inch heels was difficult enough!

Logan thought those actions, and others like them, cute and entertaining. She constantly complimented him on how sexy he looked, and how much more she loved him for it.

Despite the difficulties, Dilan did find himself enjoying the view in the mirror. His feminine body in his revealing maid's uniforms looked so very sexy, and his made-up face, wasn't bad. And it was clear that Logan loved the sight of him too.

When she was home, and not off at the hospital in surgery or some such, she'd often grab him and feel him up while she hugged and kissed him, passionately. After those quick little sessions, she'd giggle delightedly, tell him how much she loved him and then remind him to fix his lipstick.

And on occasion, if he was lucky, she'd drag him into their bed, or onto the couch or even onto the floor so she could ride her dildo and they'd both cum happily.

And Dilan decided he didn't mind if he had to go back afterwards and clean up the mess that had dribbled out from between his legs.

He realized that he was more of a sissy than ever, and more feminized, and more completely owned by Logan. But he was okay with that. She was the woman of his dreams. He was content with his life, despite all of the things she'd done to him, and required of him.

Dressing to go out was always an annoying challenge; and one he wasn't all that comfortable with.

All of his silky blouses had been replaced, with ones that allowed more room for his expanded chest. No matter what he tried, and he constantly experimented, he couldn't wrap his big breasts to the point where he had a flat chest. So, he suffered through that humiliation, whenever he left the house.

The new corsets, Logan insisted he wear and, his slowly shrinking waist also allowed Logan to buy new slacks with smaller waistlines.

Those two aspects of his street clothes, made it clear to everyone who took the time to look, that between his corseted waist and his small breasts, he was as much a girl as a sissy boy.

The stares and comments were a constant humiliation, much worse than ever before.

But he learned to live with them, to please his Mistress. He had no choice.

Logan added a new event to their routine. She established appointments for both of them, at her favorite beauty spa. Every other week they went in together for a mani-pedi and a hair styling.

Dilan both loved and hated the ritual. He did learn to enjoy the attention, like most women do. The foot and hand massages in the peaceful setting of the lovely salon were relaxing.

But he never felt like he truly fit in, even though he always wore his women's outfits, and even left his full make-up in place. And his hair was always down in its cute bob cut when he arrived and left.

For those trips he really was back to looking like a girl. Except for the unsightly bulge in the front of his slacks. And sometimes, when he lost control, it was terribly unsightly. Those occasions, were caused by some of the things he heard from the women around him. He never imagined how crass women could be when they were relaxed and among their own kind.

After a few of those trips, the stylist, with input from Logan, lightened his already blonde locks, making them another shade brighter. Logan was pleased and told him that it made him look even more girly.

Great! He thought, but he didn't say anything.

And the next trip Logan instructed the nail technician to extend his acrylic nails another centimeter.

Dilan wasn't pleased with that, at all. He'd grown used to his one-centimeter extensions. He'd worn them constantly since he first received them on the island. And he'd learned to like them. They were sexy, but of course very feminine.

And that was the issue. When he went out, in his sissy persona, his long and pink nails always drew attention and some of the most derisive comments. It seemed that people, mostly men, could accept his clothes. They could vaguely be considered male attire. And with his hair pulled back, and his light makeup, his face could pass as a man's. But long, pink nails apparently pushed things too far. Even women, who usually just smiled at him condescendingly or sometimes even flirtatiously, seemed put off by the sight of his fingers.

And now that would only get worse. Not to mention the cumbersomeness he expected from the things, especially on his keyboard or in doing chores around the house.

He wanted to protest right then and there, but he knew that Logan wouldn't appreciate him complaining in front of the staff, so he held off until they were driving home.

"Logan. I don't like these new nails at all." He said boldly. "They'll make my life much more difficult."

Logan took her eyes off the road for a moment and glanced over at him quickly. "I'm sorry but I like them. They look pretty on you."

"But even a sissy doesn't walk around with nails like this. And I'm afraid I'll break them while I'm doing my chores." And now he realized he was sounding much more whiny.

"Don't you dare break them! Be careful. You'll get used to them."

And then, stopped at a light she reached over and slapped him on the cheek. It surprised him and hurt!

"And my sissy will wear whatever I tell him to. Won't you?" She yelled at him, angrily.

Shocked, and cowered, he replied, "yes Mistress."

She nodded and drove off with the rest of the traffic when the light changed.

The final shipments of Dilan's new maid's wardrobe arrived, along with a couple more corsets. They completed his collection. His closet now contained a dozen of the outfits. In several colors and shades; all of them fitting tightly around his waist and displaying his massive cleavage.

It made little difference, other than Logan now had an even larger selection to choose from in the mornings when she laid out his uniform for the day.

He continued to wear them, daily, over his tight and strict corsets, with stockings and four-inch high-heels.

It took him a couple of months to become used to his new body and attire. Of course, he felt like he was more a girl than a sissy, these days. And he wondered if that had been Logan's plan all along.

She certainly seemed to love the way he looked. But she didn't demand that he behave like a girl, she didn't insist that he talk like one - change his tone. She allowed him to watch his sports, read his favorite authors, and curse like a guy.

And, of course, like a guy, he enjoyed the sight of pretty women.

He just looked like a sexy girl, and peed like one, too.

Only during the day, while he was working on the phone or in front of the video camera, was still Dilan the computer systems guy. For video conferences, he continued to take great pains to ensure that only his face was visible, that his hair was tied back, and his makeup barely visible. And as soon as he was done with the camera, he had to return his hair and face to his normal more feminine sissy look.

It was tedious, but Logan required it of him.

+++++++++++++++

It was a couple of months before Logan found a lull in her busy schedule and began planning their nuptials. She arranged everything.

As it was to be a small, intimate affair, it didn't take up that much of her time. The wedding would be held at her home, in the pretty back yard, with only a half dozen people present.

Dilan didn't have anyone he wanted to invite. His parents were gone, he was an only child, working from home none of his colleagues were particularly close. And even if they were, he couldn't let them see him as the sissy he was.

Besides the minister, an acquaintance of hers. Only a few of her friends were invited to witness the event, and to celebrate afterwards.

Another woman doctor, Giselle, her husband, Elliot, were invited. She too was a surgeon, and the pair of them were like sisters, struggling together in a man's world.

She also invited a pair of interns, Allie and Kira, who were actually a lesbian couple. They were younger and fun, and allies within the hospital.

And, of course, Laverne the seamstress, was included. She would, after all, be making Logan's wedding dress and his tux for the ceremony.

She worked with Logan and after several weeks of work, she delivered a beautiful, and very sexy white evening gown, and in it the bride looked absolutely breathtaking.

And the women again worked together on Dilan's tux outfit, and surprised him with it when they were done.

It did look like a version of a man's tux. But one made for a woman. No blouse, a custom bright red corset, no bra, and the jacket's single button left a lot of her breasts on display. The slacks, like all the others in his rebuilt wardrobe, had a flat front, a zipper in the back, and fit him so tightly that the bottom edge of the corset, the garters, and even the tops of his stockings could be seen if one looked closely.

Only with his dildo tucked, was his front flat. He knew, though that he'd have a difficult time keeping the thing in check. Logan, his bride, looked so good in her dress.

He also realized that his wedding corset was tighter and more heavily boned than his others. The thing was torture when he wore it for the first time. He had learned to live with the tightness and constrictions of his new batch, but they remained uncomfortable and restrictive. His new red one would be painfully difficult to deal with on his wedding day. And he just knew he'd be wearing the thing all day.

+++++++++++++++++++

On the day of their wedding, in the morning, Logan arranged for the two of them to visit the spa for the works. Mani-pedi, hair and make-up.

Before they left, she laced him into his red corset, 'so you can get used to it.' He didn't think that was possible, but he knew he'd have to do the best he could, for his bride and mistress.

Resignedly he put on one of his street clothes outfits. The pants were loose, around his tight-lacer waist.

The staff at the salon understood the importance of the day, and did their utmost to make Logan happy.

Hours later, she looked fantastic. Like a movie star at the Oscars. And Dilan looked even more like Dylan had on the island, a better-looking version of his female self.

They drove home feeling happy and pretty.

Back at home, Dilan changed into one of his uniforms, it too was loose around his compressed torso, and made them a light lunch. They were just finishing up when Laverne arrived to help them dress.

The pair met her at the front door.

"You look absolutely beautiful, Logan." Was the first thing she said as she came in, and she followed that up with, "and you look lovely, Dilan. Your makeup is perfect."

She spent the next hour fussing over the two of them. First Logan and then Dylan.

And when the photographer arrived, she let her in the door and helped with her collection of cameras and lights.

"Photographer?" Dilan asked Logan when he saw the woman.

"Of course, we have to record our memories. You only get married once. At least that's what I expect. Don't you?"

"Of course, but..."

"But you're nervous about appearing in photos looking all pretty and girly?" Logan interrupted.

Dylan nodded, sheepishly. "Yes."

"Well, my love, get over it. I want photos so I expect you to smile happily and look your best for the photographer."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Thank You. Now smile." She ordered, as she leaned in and kissed, him, careful not to smear his lipstick, or hers.

He smiled.

For the next hour, the photographer, Jocelyn, took thousands of photos in various places around the yard, the patio and the house. At least it seemed like thousands. And she had the two of them posed in every imaginable position.

And several times she told Logan how fantastic they looked as a couple, and how much she wanted to publish their photos on her web site and in web publications.

Every time she mentioned going public Dilan cringed, fearfully. He was terrified that someone who knew him would see and he'd be outed.

When he mentioned it to Logan, while the Jocelyn was digging out a fresh memory card, she wasn't moved. "With your makeup, your hair and your lovely breasts on display, no one will ever think you're a guy, let alone the Dilan they know and love.

"Just relax and smile prettily."

He took a deep breath and decided dubiously that she was probably right. Probably.

Jocelyn finally declared herself finished, and settled down with Laverne to await the ceremony.

The collection of guests showed up, at the appointed time, just twenty minutes later.

By then Dilan was a nervous wreck, both because of the ceremony, it was his wedding day, and being on display, looking more like a girl than a guy, to the strangers Logan had invited. Strangers to him, not to her.

As he greeted everyone, at the door, it was clear that Giselle, Allie and Kira, and even the minister, had been briefed on Dilan's unusual lifestyle. And they were all friendly and gracious. Even the minister seemed to be comfortable with him. But Giselle's husband, either hadn't gotten the word, or didn't accept Dilan for how he appeared, or who he was.

Elliot gave Dilan various glares, ranging from disdain to disgust, and several others in between.

Giselle did her best to keep her guy, who seemed rather dull, handsome enough but big and beefy, under control. Dilan wondered what she saw in him. Although he imagined the others were asking the same question about Logan and him.

Logan had arranged a pretty setting, out on the large back patio for the ceremony, and as the weather was perfect, they would all stay outside to celebrate afterwards.

With everyone gathered, excitedly the beautiful bride and the pretty groom met the minister while the others gathered around.

The wedding ceremony itself was simple and pleasant and the minister only delivered a short sermon focusing on encouragement, enjoyment and commitment.

They both promised to love and honor, forever. They exchanged rings, and then kissed and hugged while their guests applauded.

The women all hugged them, and kissed them, happily afterwards.

The little crowd then settled down to celebrate. There was plenty of food and drink, and dance music.

The minister and Laverne, departed not long after the ceremony. Both of them claiming to be too old for partying.

The two interns, were cute and absolutely loved Dilan, the more champaign they drank the more attention they paid him.

They kept dragging him out into the designated dance floor, holding onto him, hugging him and slipping their hands under his jacket to cop a feel of his breasts. They were so wonderfully unusual!

And they also massaged his dildo until it was clearly hard and uncomfortably distorting his slacks.

Logan just laughed at their antics. She knew that they were both lesbians and had no interest in men. But Sissy Dilan was a fascinating toy for the two of them to play with, and as she loved them both as if they were younger sister twins, she didn't mind. In fact, she thought it was highly entertaining the way they were making her new husband blush like never before.

It was her girlfriend and fellow surgeon Giselle and her ass-hole husband, who bothered her. He was such a dick! She could never figure out why Giselle had married the guy. He was good looking enough, and studly, but had a sizable beer-belly - Her friend said he was very good in bed. But still. To her he seemed stupid and revolting.

Eventually they all gathered around a big table on the patio, drinking and eating finger-food, chatting and enjoying themselves.

It was then that Devin the dick, started in on Dilan.

"Where did you get the tux?" He blurted out. And his tone drew everyone's attention.

"It was made for me by the same seamstress who made Logan's beautiful dress. You met her, Laverne." Dilan answered in a friendly tone. But he could tell that the guy was being scornful, and he expected more malice was coming.

Giselle tried to redirect the conversation, "When and where are you two going to honeymoon?"

"Well, we just came back from four weeks in the Caribbean, a couple months ago, so we don't plan on doing anything special for a while. But I'm thinking we might just go back to the same place again. It was wonderful the first time around. I imagine it will be equally as enjoyable the second time. Doesn't that make sense, my love? Didn't we have a fantastic time?"

Dilan almost blurted out, 'yes Mistress,' but he caught himself just in time. "Yes, it was life changing," he said, slyly and gave Logan a wink.

She chuckled.

Dilan spent the next ten minutes, while the conversation moved onto other topics, wondering if Logan was planning still more changes to his body. He wasn't sure what more she could do to him. The thought made him nervous.

They were all getting pretty drunk, by that point, and during the next lag in the conversation, the inebriated goon started back in on him. "Well, Dilan, I must admit that your tits do look good. Do you still have a cock in there?" he asked disdainfully.

Indignantly, Dilan answered, "yes, I have a dildo." As soon as he said it, he knew that he was in trouble. 'Cock' would have been the appropriate answer for the fool. But that wasn't a descriptor he could use.

The guy laughed, derisively, and even Giselle gave him a dirty look.

Logan then jumped in to defend him, and shut the guy down. "That's what I call it. My dildo."

Elliot laughed, derisively. "So, it's Dildo Dilan the sissy?"

Dilan blushed. Really? At my wedding? But when he looked at Logan he was staggered. He'd never seen such an angry look.

He watched as she slowly stood up, placed one hand on the table and leaning past her doctor friend, she poured her glass of Champaign into the guy's lap.

Elliot jumped up, cursing and wiping ineffectively at his wet crotch.

For a moment Dilan thought his wife was going to follow up by smashing her glass into his head, that would have become a bloody mess, but instead she turned to Kelly. "Please take this fool out of here." She growled.

Giselle, nodded, stood up and grabbed her husband by his ear, as if he were an eight-year-old, miscreant boy and dragged him toward the door. "Come along Tiny, we're leaving."

The interns, who had been sitting quietly, in shock, both laughed. "That's his nick-name? Tiny? That must be the size of his dick," Allie said.

"Goodbye Giselle" Kira called out as she and Tiny left. "Sorry you have to go, but your husband is a dick-head. A tiny dick-head."

And that even drew a laugh out of Logan.

After that excitement, the celebration settled down to just the four of them. And they had a lot of fun.

They moved into the house and curled up together on the big couch in the great room.

Dylan's jacket was hauled off so the girls could see, admire and touch his breasts.

They were delighted, and jealous, and loved the sight of a guy, a delightfully effeminate guy, with big breasts.

"All guys should have breasts like that. It would make them much more interesting." Kira said, chuckling.

"And more fun. You should get boobs like that." Allie, told her lover, laughing.

"Oh no, you should. You have the smallest ones of the bunch of us." Kira responded.

Logan gave Dilan a dirty look when he chuckled and told them, "let me be the judge of that. You've seen my chest, show me yours. It's only fair."

The girls giggled, looked at each other and then first Allie, and then Kira began stripping.

For Allie it was easy, she was wearing a pretty top and a skirt. So, she just pulled her top off over her head, to reveal a sexy lace bra, in a pastel orange.