“I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me,” Jaiden Chapman told me as my assistant Susan served us both coffees.  “Professor Greene at Texas Woman’s University recommended you,” she continued.  “Professor Greene, Kristen, is my thesis adviser — I’m working on my M. Ed. in curriculum design, and when I shared my story with her she was certain you would be able to help us.”

I recognized the professor she was referring to immediately from working with her several years earlier when I accepted her stepson as a client after the death of her husband, and the boy’s father, a few months earlier.  Professor Kristen Greene was a young woman who recognized her dominant nature and was a believer in female supremacy.  She also shared in my philosophy that all males were ultimately inferior to women and should be subservient to their female betters, and that males were almost better off when living under the control of a dominant woman who will set them to their purpose in life of serving and pleasing women.  She had set-up a female-led relationship for her former husband and herself, with her husband acting as her sissy maid and cuckold in their home while his son was off at a prestigious boarding school on the east coast.

After the death of his father, the boy had asked if he could stay at home and not return to his boarding school the following semester and Professor Greene had agreed, recognizing the boy was mourning and believing he just needed some time before returning to school.  After spending a few months together, however, Professor Greene recognized her stepson as exhibiting effeminate, submissive behaviors that indicated he might benefit from my sissy counseling clinic and had asked me to take on her stepson as a client which I had cheerfully agreed.  After undergoing my recommended course of treatment Kristen’s stepson had emerged an obedient sissy and ready to begin service and Kristen had taken possession of her stepson and made the sissy her male-wife within weeks of the sissy’s completion of her therapy.

That had been one year ago and when Jaiden had approached Kristen with her problems with her younger brother, Kristen had recommended my clinic and then called me a week prior to Jaiden’s appointment to give me the background information I would need to help her.

Stevie and his sister Jaiden had lost their parents in a plane crash six years earlier and Jaiden, how twenty-six years old, had raised Stevie with the help of a part-time nanny who Susan and one of our investigators was trying to track down.  Their parents had left them a sizable estate and considerable investments which Jaiden had managed by their family attorney who was also someone we were checking out.  Large, family estates sometimes brought out the worst sorts and we wanted to make sure that Jaiden’s financial affairs were being properly managed so she could devote herself to her career as an educator.

According to what she had told Kristen, it seemed that Stevie was a textbook case of a sissy boi who would benefit greatly from my therapy and likely make a devoted, obedient and wholly submissive male-wife for a suitable, dominant woman interested in a marriage based on the matriarchal-based philosophy of Loving Female Authority. Upon completion of the initial phase of counseling he would be ready for placement in the home of a suitable woman who shared our belief in female supremacy and the inferior, subservient nature of males.  Most of the sissy bois who completed our course of treatment would then begin the transformation process to become sissy maids and cuckolds and be married off to a suitable woman who shared my belief in female supremacy and the inferior, subservient nature of males.

Afterwards, once she had been fully feminized and effectively emasculated, she would embrace being a sissy and could then be wed to a dominant woman who understood sissies and would continue her transformation.  Most of the sissies who completed their therapy at my clinic would go on to become a sissy maid and servant to their wives before being cuckolded and forced to embrace their wife’s decision to cuckold them and so she could continue to enjoy being fucked by a real man with a big, thick cock — all things which I knew my new client was not yet ready to be told and I would wait until she had gained more of an education about sissy bois and their value to strong, powerful women who knew how to control and dominate them.

“How can I be of help, Ms. Chapman?” I asked as Susan, an assistant-therapist who had been showing progress as a counselor, showed her to a seat opposite my desk before quietly excusing herself.

“Please call me, Jaiden,” she said smiling as she crossed her legs and turned her body toward me.  She was a striking young woman with thick, dirty blond hair that was flowed past her shoulders and a pair of striking green eyes that caught one’s attention immediately upon seeing her.  She was dressed in a designer skirt with a pair of Jimmy Choo heels accented by a pair of diamond earrings and a beautiful, gold locket that looked to be an antique.  While Ms. Chapman was a graduate student, it was obvious from her clothes that she came from money and from her demeanor it was just as obvious she came from an old-money family.

“And please call me, Rebecca,” I said.

“Thank you, Rebecca,” she said, seeming to hesitate before sharing her story with me — a situation that was all too common in my line of work.

“It’s okay, Jaiden,” I said to reassure her.  “I am familiar with how difficult it often is for some women to discuss, well the delicate particulars that are involved in finding help for young boys who need my particular form of counseling.”

“Yes, Professor Greene explained some of what you did for her,” she said as she nervously uncrossed and then re-crossed her legs.  “And to be honest, it was something of a shock to learn about.  I hate to come off as being naive, but I have never heard such ideas about, well, about boys like my brother and why your course of treatment is so much better for them.”

“It can be slightly shocking when one first learns about the therapy we offer young, submissive males here because it is such a radical departure from traditional approaches to helping effeminate boys from a psychological point of view.

“I’m afraid my brother Stevie is one of them,” she told me

“And it is to the point of causing concern?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said, “Yes, it is.”

“Can you tell me why it concerns you?”

“Our parents died in a plane crash six years ago and I have done my best to raise Stevie, but, but…”

“Go on,” I said.  “You’re among friends here.”

“Well Stevie is, well, well he’s a little different, and I’m afraid there are some people who might take advantage of that to get at his share of our trust fund.”

“Stevie is different?” I asked just as Susan appeared with the coffee.  “How do you mean he is different?”

“He, well he is very effeminate, like the ones you talked about,” she began.  “I mean, well he has always seemed like, well what we used to call a pansy.  I know that sounds terribly uncaring and not very progressive, but it’s true.  It’s absolutely true.”

“Well, not all boys become the masculine caricature that society says they should become,” I explained.  “In fact, I have come to the conclusion that relatively few males are cut out to meet the norm for masculine standards that society has come to demand of them.  That is part of why I started this practice.”

“Is that so?,” she asked as Susan poured each of us a cup of coffee, set the creme an sugar on the desk between us, and then quietly took a seat in one of the office chairs along the back window so she would not be an interruption to my interview with a potential new client.

“Yes, it is,” I told her as I took a sip of my coffee.  “Most boys do not feel as masculine as they are taught they should feel, and the result is they are horribly unhappy unable to relate women in a healthy way.”

“Maybe that explains Stevie,” Ms. Chapman continued as she poured creme into her coffee and looked up at me directly.  “He’s always been more interested in girl-things than with playing outdoors with the other boys.  Instead of playing outside he liked to play with my old dolls and have pretend tea parties.”

I smiled knowingly and glanced over at Susan who was looking very professional and focused entirely on our new client while she told us the story of her brother, Stevie.

“Again,” I said, “that is not all that unusual.  Many boys feel girly for much of their life and if recognized early enough these effeminate boys can be given counseling and therapy that will help them be much happier than if they are forced to live as men when they are incapable of doing so.”

“He says he likes girls,” she said finally after being quiet for a few minutes, “but I’ve caught him wearing, well wearing my underwear.”  With that admission, she broke down and once more Susan was there with a box of tissues, and Ms. Chapman took several before thanking her.

“That’s not as rare as you might think,” I offered.  “In fact, my entire practice is devoted to helping young boys and men who are drawn to feminine clothing.”

“Well, he came home beaten-up last weekend,” she said, gaining strength.  Susan poured us each a cup of coffee, set the creme and sugar on the desk between us, and left quietly, closing the French doors of my office as she left.  “When I pressed him on it he wouldn’t tell me what happened, but a girlfriend called me with the story.”

“Yes?”

“She told me that Stevie went out dressed as a girl and was trying to meet something called a Pro Domme,” she said, looking up at me as she added some creme and sugar to her coffee.

“Pro Domme’s are women who provide female domination services for money,” I explained.  “And female domination is a common fantasy among submissive males where they are dominated sexually, physically and emotionally by a stronger, dominant woman.  These males fantasize about serving as these women’s servants.”

“Oh, oh my,” she said, the tears beginning to flow again.  Susan was there offering our new client a tissue, and I smiled at my decision to increase her responsibility at the clinic.  She understood what was needed without me having to say it aloud.

“It’s again, not as uncommon as you might think,” I told her.  “You are, however, right to be worried about him.  Especially, considering his share of your trust fund, he is definitely at risk of being taken advantage of at the least.”

She looked up and, despite being clearly shaken, tried to compose herself.

“As you may already know, my counseling practice is based on a philosophy known as Loving Female Authority,” I began.  “At its core, Loving Female Authority advocates women should lead in their primary relationship and that males should submit to the control of the dominant woman in their lives.”

“Oh, really?” she said, not able to resist smiling.

I smiled back at her.

 and how it is a much better, much more successful course of treatment when compared to the treatment strategies followed by most psychiatrists and psychologists when treating boys like your brother,” I admitted easily as Susan returned to my office holding a silver tray coffee service.  Setting the tray down on a table under the window, Susan quietly and without taking away from the conversation I was having with our new client served us all tea and offered Jaiden cream and sugar before taking a seat in the leather chair opposite of the one Jaiden occupied.

“My philosophy and form of therapy are certainly not yet mainstream, but as my belief in the philosophy of Loving Female Authority continues to gain more and more women followers that will likely change in the near future,” I continued.  “And it truly is what is in the best interests of your brother and other boys like him, as your friend Professor Greene an attest.”

She hesitated for a moment, looking around in her handbag for something as she began to cry softly, uneasy at what she was here to discuss.  She was relatively young, I could see, no older than thirty, and likely used to having such meetings as ours taken by others for her benefit, but this discussion was one she would not want to become the source of public gossip and was intelligent enough to know it was a meeting she must take alone.

Without missing a beat, Susan took a box of tissues from the coffee table and placed them in front of our client before she returned to serving us coffee, pouring us each a cup and setting it on the desk in front of where we each sat before moving the small creme pitcher and sugar bowl to a place near where our guest sat, knowing I took my coffee black.   Susan is a wonderful assistant, and I am lucky to have her, I thought to myself, smiling at her to show my approval.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling at Susan as she took a tissue and wiped her eyes.  “I discovered several months ago, without meaning to, that my younger brother is cross-dressing.  You know, dressing up in women’s clothes.”

“And this has been going on for some time now?” I asked, knowing the answer.  “His dressing up in women’s clothing, I mean.”

“Y-y-yes, yes it has,” she admitted as she dabbed at her tears with the tissues.  “If I’m honest, it has been going on since he was very young, only eight or nine years old.  It started when he began to dress in our mother’s clothes, and then hold tea parties with my dolls while dressed in mother’s lingerie.  As he got older he began to steal my panties and bras, trying to rotate a few pair out at a time so I wouldn’t notice, and if our parents hadn’t died a few months ago I probably never would have noticed.”

“And what happened for you to notice his stealing of your panties and bras?” I asked as I sipped my coffee.

“Well, I had moved back home from my college apartment,” she began, smiling as she added sugar and creme to her coffee and nodding a thank you toward Susan who had taken up the seat right next to our new client.  “One morning I told Stevie I was going out shopping and would not be home until after dinner, which was my plan, but after driving only a few miles from our family home I realized I had left my wallet in my other purse and had to go back to get it.”

“And let me guess,” I said smiling at her.  “When you walked in the house you found your brother wearing your lingerie?”

“Y-yes, yes he was,” she admitted shamefully.  “How did you know?”

“Because my dear, I have dealt with submissive males like your brother before,” I told her directly.  Most women who discover a young submissive sissy boy in their family are usually a good deal older than the pretty young woman who sat before me, and so they have an easier time accepting the behavior of such boys since they have had a longer history being exposed to the unhealthy sexuality and sexual behavior of many males in our society.

“Dr. James is the expert on sissy boys like your brother,” Susan volunteered to help credential me with our new client and give her hope that we could help her brother.  “She has helped many, many women like you who were worried about other young boys who demonstrated similar behavior and inclinations. 

“Sometimes a mother discovers her son is such a boy,” I added.  “Or,  sometimes it takes the love and kindness of an aunt, step-mother, or family friend who is aware of my clinic and my form of treatment and who understands the truth about sissy boys and takes the necessary steps to have the boy put under my care because she wants what is best for the boy.”

“Submissive boys like your brother — ones who are identified as being in need of the types of services only clinics with our unique understanding of the problems faced by such boys are able to provide — are remarkably responsive to our particular approach and in the last fifteen years all of the boys who were identified and put under our care while still teenagers have all had successful outcomes to Dr. James’ treatment strategy,” Susan added enthusiastically but in such a natural and genuine way that her words could not help but make the nervous, frightened young woman feel more at ease and less afraid.

“That’s reassuring to know,” Jaiden said as she smiled at Susan thankfully, and I watched as Susan offered our client support and understanding by just squeezing the woman’s hand a few times as she smiled to show the young woman how much she cared about her problems.

“Did he know you saw him in your lingerie, or does he think he got away with it?” I asked Jaiden, believing she was emotionally strong enough to go ahead and get the whole issue out into the open.

“Oh, he knew he was caught alright,” she said, getting a little angry as she spoke.  “When I walked in the door to my bedroom I found him kneeling at the foot of my bed wearing one of my bras and a pair of my panties while, well, while playing with himself and staring at one of my old lingerie catalogs.  So he knew he was caught alright!”

“And what did you do?” Susan asked as she squeezed our clients hand in support.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Jaiden responded.  “I ended up staring at him in absolute shock and just watched as him as he tried to find something on the floor to cover himself while telling me ‘it’s not what it looks like,’” she added as she began to regain her composure.

“I would have been surprised if you had known what to do,” I told her.  “Finding your younger brother in a pair of your bra and panties is shocking and not having known about sissy bois you were naturally taken aback.”

“Thank you for saying that,” she said as her tears were replaced with something more befitting a woman of her character and background — an inner strength and courage that looked good on her.  “I was shocked, of course, but I was also a little angry to see how little he respected my privacy, and I was embarrassed for him that he was one of those frilly boys who liked to were women’s undies.”

“Recognizing the weakness of these boys is a common experience for women when introduced to a sissy, and it speaks to our dominant natures that we know instinctively these boys are less manly and less masculine than the men we fancy in bed,” Susan added  with a wink.

Jaiden smiled at  Susan and took a sip of tea before continuing.

“Anyway, he quickly realized he couldn’t cover himself and ran out of my room in a panic and I could hear him run down the hall and lock himself in the bathroom,” she told us.  “It took me a few minutes to gather my composure, but when I felt myself again I knocked on the bathroom door and told him he needed to unlock the door and let me in because the two of us needed to talk.”

“His shame and embarrassment at being caught are what made him hide from you, of course,” I explained to Jaiden as Susan nodded her head in agreement.  “Hiding like that is also a sign of immaturity and believing he can hide from you by locking himself in the bathroom is a little cowardly too.”

“You are so right about Stevie being a coward.  He wouldn’t answer me and didn’t come out for a quite a while.  I had to threaten to call one of our aunts if he didn’t unlock the door and come out and talk to me,” she said, continuing to share this very personal experience with us.  “Finally, I told him that I knew he was embarrassed and if he opened the door we could talk about it and maybe get him some help.  That was when he opened the door, wearing a bath towel around his waist to cover himself.”

“You were very kind, given the circumstances,” Susan offered, squeezing Jaiden’s upper arm as a sign of support.  Jaiden smiled and sipped her tea before continuing.

“He told me how sorry he was and that it had never happened before, but I was not buying it and confronted him about lying to me, interrupting his denials and telling him I had a pretty strong feeling it had happened many times before and I could not help if he lied to me,” she said.  “And then he just broke down and cried and I felt so sorry for the poor boy I hugged him and told him it would be alright before sending him to get some clothes on so we could talk about what had just happened.”

“We can help you, Jaiden,” I told her.  “And we can also get Stevie the kind of care he truly needs, the kind of care that will help him live a happy, useful and productive life.”

“Thank you, so much,” Jaiden said, straightening up her body.  “What do we need to do to get started?”