My Daddy Man
A Little Story written for a sissy fan
By Maryanne Peters

He may not be the best-looking man in the world, or the strongest, but I am his girl and that is all the matters to me.

When I think of all the years I wasted being Stephen sometimes I feel like bursting into tears. Sometimes I do, just because I can. Girls like me cry often. Not tragic tears, just boo hoo tears. I am like a little girl, which exactly how I want to be.

Daddy likes me to wear pink. In fact he insists on it, but probably because he knows that I want him to. Pink is my color. Pink and white. Do you like my pink bow? And my pink gloves?

I like to wear white below the waist. It is the color of purity. I wear a pink bra and white panties. White panties and white petticoats and white stockings. Pure me!

White shows stains, but I always make sure that there can never be brown stains. That would be yuck. I keep clean back there. Clean and empty, just for Daddy.

If there is a stain it might be from Daddy seeping out of me. That is the very best kind of stain. The mark of love. Yummy.

Daddy loves me like that. He loves it when I squeal in a high pitched voice. I have practiced so hard that it just come out: “Oh Daddy, Oh Daddy. Oh, oh, oh!” Squirt. Yum. I makes me warm inside just to think about it.

Do you like my wig? I am growing my hair under it. I don’t need to ever go outside as Stephen ever again, so Daddy says that I can grow my hair and grow my tittles and be his forever. That is what it says on what is hanging around my neck. Do you like it? HIS.

I am now Stephie and I am his. Isn’t life just wonderful?

The End

© Maryanne Peters 2022