Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Swiss Miss Sissy, Chapter 16



Hi, all, rocketdave here, letting you know that this is going to be the last chapter for a while.  Don’t worry, there is more… a lot more.  But the story is unfinished; we’re coming up to a gap in the narrative, and since this chapter effectively concludes the “week with Margot” arc, it feels like a natural spot to take a break.

Frankly, this hiatus is partly for me.  If you’ve been paying attention, you’ll know that it’s been challenging for me to stick to my goal of providing an illustration for as many chapters as possible.  That is why I’ve been posting chapters so sporadically; I kept waiting for my muse to show up.  This story doesn’t really require illustrations- the writing absolutely stands on its own- but in my arrogance, I had hoped that some accompanying artwork might increase its profile a tad.  I’m not sure how much difference it made, however. 

If you’re one of the people who have been enjoying the story, I’d once again encourage you to voice your support in the comments section.  Perhaps some positive feedback will inspire our author.  Bambi has put a hell of a lot of work into this continuation of Bea’s original story, and deserves more plaudits than what we’ve seen up to this point.



Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9a Chapter 9b
Chapter 10a Chapter 10b
Chapter 11a Chapter 11b
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15a  Chapter 15b



by Bambi

Chapter 16: Homecomings. Cheryl is returned to Mistress Christina's side.


I looked at the houses that flew past as we drove to Mistress Christina's mansion. Once, her estate must have been surrounded only by fields, farms and empty countryside. But as the years passed urban expansion had begun to encroach on her domain. Though we were beyond the town limits proper, the nouveau riche had constructed their own villas and mansions in this area. Once I would have found them posh or impressive, but after witnessing Mistress Christina's and Margot's mansions they seemed like cheap and tiny knock-offs. 

I turned my head and looked at Mistress as she shifted gear. She was driving herself, controlling the car with an aggressive confidence that might look unseemly for a woman her age, but was a perfect metaphor for her.

“What's the point in having an expensive car, if you won't drive it yourself,” she had told me as we left.

She caught my eyes, and gave me a wicked smile. “Almost there, my dear. Just relax.”

That was easier said than done. I shifted from one uncomfortable position on the passenger seat to another.

I looked down at my outfit, which looked reasonably normal. Apparently, Mistress Christina wanted to keep the exchange and dinner informal, and Mistress had dressed me for the part. I was wearing a khaki halter top that left my upper back bare. Underneath I wore a strapless bra that was completely hidden by the top. The breasts it supported felt... numb. The maids had removed my nipple clamps and reattached the false boobs I had arrived with.

My legs were encased in a tight beige pencil skirt, which fell just above my knees. It was quite a change to wear something that wouldn't reveal my panties with every step, but as I discovered how tight the skirt was, keeping my knees very close together, I wasn't sure it was a change for the better. I wore a wide black belt around my waist. It was clearly an accessory, as it was definitely not required to actually keep my tight skirt up. 

The rest of my undies were very simple. Frilly, but simple. Just panties and a satin waist corset. I did not even wear a plug.

Aside from the usual jewellery, like my earrings, I wore Mistress’ pendant around my neck. She had insisted I'd take it home with me.

Jeanne had not skimped on the makeup, but it looked unusually demure. She had applied a wide range of pastel colours that apparently made my blue eyes stand out.

Most of their time the maids had spent on my hair. Given the time available, it would have been quite impossible for them to give me the big hair I had worn previously at Mistress Christina’s. Nevertheless, they had done an admirable job of giving me a sixties look, letting my hair fall back and down the left, tying it with nothing but pins and then letting fluffy curls rest on my shoulders.

“There it is,” Mistress said.

I could see the mansion. It was much closer to the road than Mistress Margot's and unobscured by any trees or large bushes since its wide gardens were mostly at the back. Clear white plaster, occasionally interspersed with orange-red bricks, caught the last rays of the evening sun. Whereas Mistress Margot's mansion was ancient and foreboding, this one looked young and cheerful. Modern even. It seemed much smaller than it really was, with most of the building hidden by this one wing.

We turned onto the driveway and past the gate that was already opened invitingly. Mistress parked close to the entrance, then helped me out of the car.  She held my arm, supporting me while I found my balance on the four inch heels of my black suede ankle boots with fancy ornamental chains around the shafts. She put a coat around my bare shoulders. The wind had shifted, and now came down from the Alps, carrying a cold chill along with it.

She guided me towards the door, which was made from lightly coloured beech and looked very modest for a main entrance to a mansion of this size. Mistress gave me an encouraging squeeze in my hand, on which I wore a brown suede wrist glove. She did a quick check of my appearance, then rang the doorbell. We waited on the front porch for our host to receive us.  

We heard heels as someone slowly approached the door from the other side. A handle was turned and the door swung open even slower. Almost reluctantly. I saw Danielle standing in the hallway.

She was looking at the floor, an ashamed blush on her face. She was wearing a one piece violet dress, with a white Peter Pan collar, long sleeves and white cuffs. She didn't show a cleavage, but it was very clear she was wearing breast forms underneath, and a white leather belts accentuated her waist. As a matter of fact, I could not remember her waist being that small. Was she wearing a corset?

Her skirt was flared and voluminous. She obviously wore petticoats underneath. Her legs were bare, with her feet in white patent leather pumps. They had no straps whatsoever, so she could remove them at any time, which seemed unfair to me.

Her hair was as big as when I had last seen her, though loose locks of hair gave it a more casual appearance. Her makeup was much more pronounced, with bright colours giving her a vivid sexiness in spite of herself.

“Why, hello there Danielle,” Mistress Margot said with a nasty smirk. “Don't you look lovely.”

Indeed she looked lovely. Little was left of the effete young man I met several weeks ago, replaced by a meek young lady. Lovely and miserable.

Hands folded before her, Danielle was still studying the floor as she answered. “Thank you, aunt. Christina welcomes you and sweet Cheryl into her home. She is already waiting for you in the parlour. May I take your coat?” I heard a shiver in her voice like she was trying not to cry.

“I haven't brought one, dear. But you can take Cheryl's coat,” Mistress said to her.

Danielle finally raised her head. “Cheryl, may I take you c...” She interrupted herself, eyes going wide in shock. She stared at me for a moment, then turned to Mistress. “Aunt!” She said in protest and indignation.

I caught her eyes and pleaded with mine, shaking my head. Don't. Just don't. Do not get involved. You'll only make it worse, get yourself into trouble.

“What is it, my dear?” Mistress Margot replied. Her tone seemed casual, but I could hear the implied threat.

Her lips formed a word, but no sound came out. “Nothing, aunt. Here Cheryl, let me help you with your jacket...”

She took the coat form my shoulders, careful not to touch me in the process. Perhaps she was afraid my predicament was contagious.

Mistress guided me to the living room, not minding my slow progress. As a matter of fact, she seemed to relish it.

We entered the parlour where Mistress Christina was already waiting for us. She smiled as she saw us, but then got a good look at me. Her face was caught somewhere between amusement and annoyance.

I felt so embarrassed to face Mistress Christina, my real Mistress, like this.

After the maids had dressed me, I had wondered about the gloves and boots. They looked shockingly normal. Fashionable even, with the fancy metal ornaments complementing the napped finish of the leather. There was just something off, but I could not identify what.

The answer came soon enough, when Mistress escorted me to the car. She opened the door for me, took my hand, stepped behind me, grabbed my other hand, and conjoined the gloves behind my back. She had already connected the chains that decorated my boots before I even realized what had just happened.

I had squealed in consternation, but that was just fine for Mistress because the gag was next. With my mouth already open, she simply slid the penetrator between my lips and into my mouth, silencing me mid-scream. She secured the two pairs of thin transparent straps behind my head, my hair hiding the clasps. 

“Not bad,” Mistress had said as she turned my chin left and right. “Not bad at all. From a distance, one might not even realize you are gagged...”

The collar came last. It was made from the same material as my gloves, with the same metal ornaments that were both striking and undoubtedly very secure. The material wasn't thick, but it was rigid nonetheless and it forced my head straight.

She gave me a kiss on the cheek. “I want us to make an impression when we meet Christina, she said with a wicked smile.“ Then, gently but implacably, she put me in the car.   

And now, bound, gagged and utterly helpless, I was presented to Mistress Christina.

And yet, for a moment, my predicament did not matter. My heart jumped as I saw Mistress Christina. She was wearing her hair loose, which cascaded from her shoulders like a golden waterfall. Her makeup was subtle, just enough to hide the few inevitable signs of her age while complementing her natural beauty. She wore a red blouse and black pants of excellent material that accentuated her curves, with a pair or bordeaux-coloured heels. A necklace and bracelet with obsidian tied the outfit together.

I was awed by her and she smiled warmly as she caught my gaze. I wanted to say how beautiful she looked, but then I felt the penetrator in my mouth again, and the moment had passed.

Mistress Christina raised an eyebrow in surprise as she saw the bonds Mistress Margot had trapped me in. Then a frown of annoyance and a bemused fought for dominance on her face.

This was the first time Mistress Christina saw me completely bound, and the sight apparently amused her. However, putting a sissy in strict bondage for the first time was like taking her virginity, and Mistress Margot was rubbing it in just who had taken that cherry.

It made me feel utterly humiliated.   

After the initial surprise, Mistress Christina regained her composure and greeted Mistress Margot warmly, completely ignoring me in the process. They shared some chit-chat and complemented each other's outfits which seemed way too expensive to be considered casual wear.

The Mistress Christina turned to me. “And what have we here? I recognize the sissy underneath, but what's the deal with her remarkable outfit?”

I mumbled something into my gag. Even I did not understand what.

Mistress Margot gave me a stern look. “Don't just stand there, Cheryl. Curtsey to dear Christina. Show her how grateful you are to be welcome in her home.”

I felt like I was in the spotlight as the two Mistress focussed their gaze on me, and I must have turned even redder. Funny, but no matter how humiliated you think you are, there always seems to be a superlative.

I strained in my bonds, but after a week in varying degrees of bondage, I had acquired some practice. Careful not to lose my balance as I placed one foot behind the other, I bobbed. Obviously, I forced a pretty smile on my face.

“Oh my,” Mistress Christina said with a grin. “Seems like someone has gained some experience with frolicking around in bondage. Tell me Margot, did her handcuffs ever come off?”

Mistress Margot laughed. “Handcuffs? Oh come now, Christina. I'm not some amateur. I was much more creative than that. Lots and lots of variation.”

“I'm sure Cheryl here was glad about that.” Mistress Christina replied as she winked at me, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

“Well, I didn't hear her complain.” She chuckled. “That was the first thing I made sure of.”

Standing there in my female clothes, arms and legs tied, I suffered indignity after indignity as the two women talked about my predicament. I felt my fake smile transform into a miserable sulk.

Mistress raised my chin and looked me in the eyes. “Oh, don't be like that Cheryl. We are just teasing. You look wonderful,” she said gently. She gave me a soft peck on the cheek. That actually made me feel better.

“Nevertheless... Margot? I think you missed the point about casual wear for tonight.” She said to her friend.

“Well, to be honest, I had an ulterior motive.” Mistress Margot said with a cunning smirk. “I wanted you to see these bonds, show how good Cheryl looks in them,” Miss Margot spoke. 

Mistress Christina laughed. “Still trying to get me over to the dark side, Margot?”

“Always, Christina. Bondage was made for sissies and vice versa. I will not rest until you realize this.”

“Well, I have my own thoughts about that,” Miss Christina replied as she rolled with her eyes.

“Yes, yes, I know.” Suddenly Mistress Margot began mimicking Miss Christina's voice. “'Bondage gear is so tacky', 'it's for discipline only', 'wouldn't want to see my smartly dressed sissy in those',  yadda yadda yadda...”

This made Miss Christina frown, but Margot simply continued. “Well, now there is a way for a sissy to be completely bound, while still looking fashionable. And this is just a sample.”

Like she was a drill sergeant inspecting the troops, Mistress Christina checked my outfit. Felt the material of my gloves, fiddled with metal on my collar, checked my ankle boots. I stood at attention as her hands went over me. “...Good quality,” she finally said non-committal.

“The best. The people who made this are planning to produce a whole line of similar outfits. Fashion integrating bondage. They are looking for investors. I'm already in. I had hoped you'd be interested too.”

“Hmmm, I'll give it some thought,” Mistress Christina said as she turned my chin left and right, checking the unobtrusive gag. “I'll call you tomorrow. But business can wait. Tonight is supposed to be relaxing.”

I yelped as Mistress Christina pinched my behind. “Even for little Cheryl here. Would you untie her, Margot?”

I sighed. Finally. No more bondage.

“Of course. You need a key for that. Let me just...” She checked her purse. Then felt her pockets. “Oh my. It seems I have misplaced the key... I wonder where it went,” she said. If she wasn't smiling so wickedly, it might have sounded convincing. I widened my eyes appalled.

Miss Christina rolled hers annoyed. “Margot...”

“Oh, I'm sure I have it here somewhere. Or perhaps I left it in the car. Might take me a while to find it then. It's a big car, after all...” Mistress Margot was fighting back a laugh while I groaned.

What was the point in keeping me tied up? Why did she have to be so mean?

Mistress Christina sighed in resignation, then checked her watch “Well, dinner will be served in one hour. Will you have found the key by then?”

Margot smiled wickedly. “Oh, I have no doubt. I wouldn't want little Cheryl here to miss dinner because a cock is stuck in her lovely mouth.”

I groaned again. Another hour like this....

Mistress Christina nodded. She turned to Danielle, who was standing at the other end of the room desperately trying not to draw attention to herself without seeming disrespectful.

“Danielle? Go to Frau Seiler and tell her she can start serving drinks. Join us when you are done.”

“Yes Christina,” Danielle said. Though she addressed Mistress with her given name, from her demeanour it was clear who had been wearing the pants around this mansion the past week. I looked at Danielle's dress as she turned on her heels and left for the kitchen, then looked at Mistress. Actually, she was literally wearing the pants around here.

The three of us sat down on the sofa, with me in my bound state between these two Mistresses. Both had their hands on me. Apparently, there was some disagreement on whether I had already reverted to being Miss Christina's sissy or not.

“Why Cheryl, don't you agree that once a sissy enters a Mistress' household, she is under her protection?” Mistress Christina asked me.

“Surely, a bound sissy is subjected to the authority of the Mistress holding the keys?” Miss Margot countered.

For once, I was glad I was gagged, as they couldn't draw me deeper into this weird little conflict. Whoever would win, I would lose. I just grunted something into my gag, which both ladies then took as affirmation of their respective positions.

When Danielle returned and joined us on the couch, the rivalry seemed to escalate and Danielle was in danger of becoming involved.

“What I think? Well... er... I think that... well... Where is Frau Seiler? Apologies Christina, aunt, but I'm going to check is taking those drinks...” Danielle got up, made an awkward bob, and then quickly fled the room, leaving me alone with these two competing dominants.

They both watched Danielle go, then simultaneously burst out laughing. Well, admittedly, it was kind of funny. At least on that the two ladies seemed to agree wholeheartedly.

After what seemed to be a remarkably long hour, the dinner bell finally rang.     

“Why, what do you know?” Mistress Margot said with mocking glee. “I found the key. it was right here in my pocket! How silly of me.”


***********************


I was pushing my food around the plate. It looked good. Smelled even better, but I had hardly touched it. I had just been freed from a fake penis in my mouth, and was in no hurry to put something else there instead. And I still tasted that rubbery flavour on my tongue.

“Christina? Aunt? I need to go powder my nose. May I be excused?” Danielle suddenly asked.

Miss Christina looked at the girl. “Of course, my dear. Would you like to join her, Cheryl?” She said as she turned to me.

Startled, I looked up. Both Mistresses were now watching me. I looked from one to the other, then Danielle, who gave a barely visible nod.

“Of course, Mistress Christina. I'd be happy to.” I answered merrily.

I didn't need to go, but I suddenly realized this would probably be the only chance Danielle had to speak in private. Miss Rosenberg would take her home immediately after dinner.

We both got up from the table, straightened our outfits and held each other’s hands daintily, pretty smile on our faces.

On an unspoken cue, we started walking.

...In opposite directions. Apparently, there was some disagreement about which bathroom was the closest. The two Mistress burst out laughing as they saw us mucking about trying to solve the resulting confusion.

Finally, with blushing faces we minced out of the dining hall.

We weren't being monitored, but we didn't say a word until we reached the bathroom, just mincing down the hallway, heels clicking in synch, holding hands like a pair of good little sissies.

When we closed the door, we fell in each other’s arms. We hugged for a while as we quietly consoled each other.

“How was it?” Danielle eventually asked as we let go.

I opened my mouth. What should I say? Difficult. Horrible. Insane?

“...Okay,” I finally said. I didn't want to think back on what had happened at Margot's mansion, let alone tell anyone about it. Especially not Danielle. The girl had enough on her own mind.

“You sure?” She asked unconvinced, to which I simply nodded. “Did she take you to the penalty box?” She asked further.

After a moment of hesitation, I shook my head. “...No... I was a good girl.”

I could see something on Danielle's face, but it wasn't relief. I headed her off with a question of my own.

“You?” I simply asked.

Danielle looked around her, as if she was afraid our Mistresses had followed us in here.

“It was... difficult. She didn't let me out of her sight. She was all over me, all the time. She put me on her lap and fondled me and kissed me and...” He interrupted his chain of thought.

“She called me a good sissy, and that I looked beautiful. Her special little girl. I do not know why, but it made me feel... “ I saw a confused expression in her face “I... didn't want to disappoint her. She didn't have to discipline me much...”

I nodded silently.

'Nights were hardest. We'd sleep together in her bed, where she would have her arms wrapped around me. The first time I was too afraid to fall asleep.

I felt awkward. I really should have been emphatic with Danielle's plight, but the truth is that I was jealous. While I was put inside that horrible penalty box, again and again, she spent her nights in Mistress Christina's embrace...

“Did you...? you know...” I asked, wiggling my behind.

She shook her head uncomfortably. “She wanted to, I'm sure. She talked about 'taking my cherry', but didn't actually do it. It was like she's waiting for something.”

And another sting of jealousy. At least Mistress hadn't made Danielle her girl like she had me. Not yet, anyway. 

“We need to go back. Let's touch up on our makeup, or they'll know we've been up to something.”

I nodded in agreement, and took out a small tube of lipstick from the cabinet while Danielle grabbed some blush. Silently, we applied the makeup, then exchanged items and continued.

When we were done, we stepped out of the bathroom, held hands, and just as daintily as before we minced back to the dining hall. When our Mistresses saw us, we were smiling blissfully, apparently rejoicing our feminine attire and behaviour.

We escorted each other back to the table, our Mistresses smiled as they watched the pretty picture their two sissies made.

Then Danielle let go of my hand, and a sudden wave of regret came over me. We had shared a moment of comfort together, and now my friend was gone again. She was sitting on the other side of the table, but flanked and completely controlled by her Mistress, as I was, she could have been on the other side of the Alps for all the good it did.


***************************************



Frau Seiler cleaned the table after dinner. When she removed my plate, she shot me an angry glance. I wasn't sure if it was because I hadn't finished my plate, or that she simply was unhappy to see me again.

We were served tea afterwards, but didn't retire to the parlour. The two ladies continued talking for a short while, but then it was time for Mistress Margot and her niece to return home. We escorted them to the front porch.

The two Mistresses said their goodbyes, then turned to me and Danielle. “Thank you for a lovely week, Cheryl,” Mistress Margot said. “I hope you will stay with me again soon.” 

Goodness, no, I thought. Anything but spending another minute with that horrible woman.

“Thank you Mistress Margot,” I said giggling. “I had a wonderful time. I would love to visit you again.” I tried to make my smile seem genuine, then bobbed a curtsey.

Mistress Margot smiled wickedly, probably because she looked straight through my charade and found it quite endearing. She put her hand on the back of my head, pulling me towards her, putting her lips over mine. Forcefully, her tongue entered my mouth and with rapid movements probed the inside.

I had to admit, she was a great kisser. I didn't even notice I had closed my eyes as her tongue wrestled with mine. Then suddenly she withdrew, leaving me bewildered and a bit out of breath. 

Danielle and I turned to each other. We exchanged a few meaningless pleasantries, then we were urged to kiss each other goodbye. We were under scrutiny, so we struck a pretty pose and leaned in to one another. With much less reluctance than the first time we kissed, Danielle and I let out lips touch.

Her tongue was soft and warm and I tasted something sweet. We both tilted our heads a bit to the right. I had placed one hand on her arm, the other on her hip. I could feel Danielle's hands on my body as well.

A hand softly stroked my behind, but it wasn't Danielle's. Mistress Christina was standing behind me. Her hands began teasing my body in a way Danielle would never have dared. I gasped as I felt her touch me between the legs. Danielle squirmed a bit as Mistress Margot was behind her, doing something similar. But the girl kept her lips on mine.

Then an arm went around my waist and pulled me back. Shocked, I saw Mistress Margot do the same with her niece, forcibly separating us.

I didn't actually protest, of course, but I felt thoroughly disappointed at being dragged away from beautiful Danielle like this. And I felt confused and embarrassed. Danielle was not a girl, she was a man. Well, sort of, anyway. And I do not fancy men. But still I wanted to kiss her, taste her tongue. It had excited me, and then our mistresses had put a stop to it like they were chaperoning some dumb kids.

Without a further word, Mistress Margot put her arm around Danielle and led her to their car. Mistress Christina had taken my hand and I heard my heels click as she guided me back inside.

I looked over my shoulder and saw Danielle do the same. We caught each other's eyes and I saw my longing reflected in hers.

I felt Mistress tug on my arm, and turned my head forward. Confused thoughts and emotions stormed through my mind. What on earth are you doing, Cheryl? I thought. You cannot have feelings for a weak and feminized young man!

I was staring in the distance while my inner conflict raged. I did hear Mistress Christina close the door behind me, and I vaguely remember how she guided me through the mansion.

I didn't even notice I was in her bedroom until she sat me down on her bed, leaning my back against a pile of pillows that rested against the headboard. She sat down next to me.

She put one arm around my shoulders, her other hand on my legs. She looked into my eyes with a gaze that was comforting, but couldn't quite hide something ravenous. I looked away shyly, but she tilted my chin towards her again and with her fingers swept a lock of hair out of my face.

I felt the warmth of her body as she sat there next to me. “How was it?” She finally asked.

She obviously referred to my week with Mistress Margot. I tried to smile, but I started fidgeting with my hands. My mouth opened and closed a couple of times as I wanted to say something, than corrected myself before I had spoken the words.

“It was... very nice, Mistress,” I said. “Mistress Margot was very... attentive to me...”

Mistress looked at me admonishingly. It wasn't unkind, but she obviously wasn't interested in any nonsense right now. “You can be truthful with me, Cheryl,” she said. “Don't be afraid. I won't tell Margot or anyone else. Just tell me what happened.”

My mouth felt dry, and I had difficulty swallowing. How would I tell Mistress about the insanity at Miss Margot's without sounding disrespectful of her friend? “Er... after you left, Mistress, we stayed in the parlour. We talked. She liked my boots. She... er... touched me... as only a Mistress would.”

Mistress didn't change her expression, but I was sure I saw a flash of discontent in Mistress' eyes.

“Go on,” she said.

“Then... er... we talked some more. I was shown to my room. Then the maids came for me and took me with them...” I said increasingly hesitantly.

“Where did they take you?”

“To... to...” I whispered the next few words, like I would summon it if I spoke too loud. “...the penalty box...”

Mistress tilted her head a bit. She didn't say anything, but I had a feeling she had some idea what I was talking about.

“What happened there?” She asked me as she held me soothingly.

“Well, she... she...” I stammered, then gasped.

To my own surprise, I gave a hurt and frightened shout. “It was horrible, Mistress! She took me in that room and tied me up! She had things in there!” I felt tears in my eyes as I started to sob. “She was mean! She gave me pain, but she said it was good pain and I started to believe her!”

And like a dam that had just ruptured, the words started rolling of my tongue without rhyme or reason. Mistress just let me talk, nodding emphatically as she held me, while I listed the many indignities I had endured.

“...and I had to play games, and she would take me in there if I lost, and I had to find clues to take me to the sanctuary, and gold coins, but she chased me around the estate...”

My words became more intelligible as I continued “...I couldn't stay, so I left... Wanted to come here... But she took me too a warehouse... The delivery woman, I mean... Said I'd be safe... But she took me back... Mistress was standing there and-she-took-me-into-the-box-and-there-was-a-horse-that-could-prance-and-gallop...” I rattled.

Mistress stroked my hair as I talked, and I felt her other hand touch me softly, comforting. She spoke soothing words as I continued jabbering.

Suddenly, I embraced her, and held her tight. “Please, Mistress. Don't make me go back there! I'll be a good, girl. I promise. Just let me stay here with you.”

“Shush, sweetie.” She said gently, wiping my tears away. “It's all right. You are safe here. Safe with me.”

I looked at her, this beautiful woman who I knew would protect me from the fiendish Mistress Margot. I was awed, completely enthralled by her. Her face was gentle, but I could see the urge that she was trying to hold back.

She should not be holding back. She was a Mistress and I was her sissy; she had every right to claim what she desired. Claim me. But the fact she showed restraint was proof of how much she cared for me. But it was unnecessary. I wanted her to claim everything I had to offer.

I kissed her on the lips. It surprised Mistress for a second, losing the initiative like that. But she regained her composure and I felt her tongue penetrate deep inside my mouth as her hands turned me around, laying me on my back.

With her lips on mine, one hand pulled up my skirt and touched the skin of my leg until she reached my panties. She pulled them down to my knees, then her hand went up again. My clitty was very erect by now, but she ignored it. Instead her hand went to my sissy-hole, probing the rim. I grunted as she pushed inside me.

Her finger wasn't nearly as big as some of the plugs I had worn recently, but she moved it in a way no inert piece of latex ever could. I squirmed under her touch. She took her lips from mine, and pushed two finger from her other hand in. I accepted them without question and sucked as if they were my lollipop.

Body, legs, they moved like jelly as Mistress performed her magic. Then I felt her withdraw, and shocked disappointment came over me. I wanted to say something, but she put her fingers on my mouth to signal me to be quiet.

“Not so fast, my dear. We have all the time in the world. Let's make this special,” Mistress said softly.

She got up from the bed, grabbing a wet tissue from her night stand to clean her hands with. She walked over to the closet, and took out a few items. She laid them out on the bed. It was a sheer white babydoll, suspender and stockings, as well as a waist corset and white pumps with stiletto heels.

She winked at me. “Put this on. I'm going to slip into something more comfortable too. I'll be back in a minute.”

Mistress stepped out into a side room. I looked at the outfit she had selected for me. I felt a short sting of reluctance, but I buried that deep and started undressing myself. With the locks opened, I could easily remove my gloves, boots and collar. I took off my top and dress, fighting the urge to simply throw them on the ground in my haste, managing to carefully fold them before safely putting them away.

Then I put on the babydoll, followed by the other items. I had just stepped into the final pump when Mistress returned.

She was wearing a nightgown that was made of black silk. It hugged her chest and tiny waist, with cups to support her breasts. It fell much more loosely as it reached her legs, coming down to just under her knees. The bulge in front hinted at what was underneath. The dildo she was casually holding in one hand brooked no explanation.

“Get on your hands and knees, Cheryl,” she said firmly, but not unkindly.

I obeyed. I didn't have the power to resist even if I wanted to.

That gave me pause. Did I really want what was coming?

“To the side of the bed, sissy,” Mistress interrupted my thoughts, making them moot. “Look at me. Show me that pretty face of yours.”

Kneeling on all fours on the bed, I looked up. Mistress smiled as she pulled her skirt up, revealing the strapon.

It was no smaller than the ones Mistress Margot had used, but it did not seem threatening at all. It's not that I wanted to feel it inside me, good heavens no. A dildo is uncomfortable, sometimes even painful, and always feels wrong, unnatural and humiliating.

But Mistress wanted to put in me, and right now I wanted anything Mistress wanted. I would have walked into a blazing fire if she had wished it. Feeling the agonizing embarrassment of having a big cock in me was a small price to pay for  pleasing her.

Mistress put her hand on my head, grabbing my hair. It hurt a bit, making me grunt. Then she stepped forward, placing the tip of the penetrator against my lips. I smiled prettily as I parted my lips just enough for her to slide the phallus home.

She moved it in fast and deep, almost making me gag despite my training. She held on to my head, then pulled it back. With my lips I kept tension on the shaft, while my tongue teased the underside.

“Suck harder, girl. Make your lips as tight as your little hole,” Mistress said.

Mistress held my hair tight, keeping tight control over my motions. It was clear  I was not sucking her strapon. No, she was fucking my mouth. With her other hand she ran the tip of the dildo she was holding over my body. I felt her touch my cheek with the phallus, my head, my back, all the way down to my behind. She didn't actually put it in, but she teased the area around it with the tip.

Mistress was increasing the tempo, and I heard her sigh. This was no regular strapon, and I realized there was another penetrator at the other end, inside Mistress. The tighter my lips, the harder I sucked and resisted, the more Mistress would feel. So I did what I could to please her. My jaws started to ache, but I did not relax them. I hummed a bit as the penetrator moved in and out, trying to make it vibrate slightly, hoping it would transmit down to Mistress' end.

Mistress moved fast, and I had difficulty keeping up, but she didn't mind. I heard her breathe heavily, then gasp. I knew she had come.

But this was only the beginning. Mistress was a woman. And like sissies, women can go on and on. I wasn't surprised when she took the strapon out of my mouth and turned me around, my knees now resting on the edge of the bed as she took up position behind me.

The strapon was now wet and slick, but she didn't slide it in. Instead, she began tickling my behind with it. Gently prodding my little hole with its tip. Meanwhile, she used the dildo like a orchestra conductor uses a his wand, stroking my back and limbs in complex patterns to the rhythm of my increasingly heavy breathing.

She tickled my earlobe with the tip, then surprised me as she put the phallus between my lips. I gave a soft squeal, and she used the distraction to push the strapon in. I gasped as my sphincter parted, then groaned as the penetrator slid in deeper, its studded shaft making its inward movement an agonizing delight.
 
She brought my hand up to the dildo, and I continued working it as I took hold of it myself, freeing both of her hands.

She took firm hold of my waist, and began to increase the tempo. I heard her sigh as she pushed and retracted, but it was almost drowned by my own grunts and groans.

I came just when a shudder went through Mistress. I felt wetness soil my babydoll and trickle down my legs. Mistress was kind enough to wipe me clean with some tissues while I continued sucking the dildo.

She sat me down on her lap and took the intruder from my mouth. She smiled caringly at me.

“You feel better, my sweet?” She asked me. “Happy to be home again? Safe with your considerate Mistress Christina?”

“Yes, Mistress” I answered without hesitation, smiling shyly but genuinely. “All week I wanted nothing more than to come back here.”

She gave me a warm smile. “It's nice of you to say that, but a bit unfair to Margot, don't you think?” She gave the look of loving mothers admonishing petulant children everywhere “She put a lot of effort in preparing your visit.  Her ways are... different, but she'd always kept your best interest at heart. You should be more grateful to her.”

Remorsefully, I nodded. “Yes, Mistress. I meant no disrespect to Mistress Margot.” To be honest, part of me wanted nothing more than to scream disrespect to Miss Rosenberg and her wicked games and horrible penalty box, but that part was silenced by my realization that Mistress Christina knew better than me. I honestly felt a pang of guilt at being angry with Mistress Margot.

“It's all right, my dear. I know sissies can easily become homesick sooner or later.” She gave me a kiss on the lips, then looked at me thoughtfully. “It is so easy to forget you've only been here for less than a month. Everything is still new to you. But tomorrow you'll go back to your regular routine, get you reaccustomed to your normal life.”

The normal life of the sissy maid, a rebellious voice said at the back of my head. “Thank you, Mistress,” I said happily.

“You are very welcome, my dear. It is the least I can do.” Mistress said. “I can tell Margot has been delighted with your performance. I'm very proud of you.”

I smiled shyly at the kind words. Then, I boldly kissed Mistress. She wasn't surprised, nor did she seem to mind. With one arm she repositioned me on her lap, with the other hand she lifted the hem of her nightgown, revealing the stapon again.


************************



Being a sissy, and therefore not a man, I could theoretically go on forever. That was not necessary, but it did prove to be quite a busy night for me. We went to bed shortly after our second time. I woke up in the dead of night, discovering Mistress was already awake. She hadn't taken off the strapon. As we laid there spooning, her arms around me in a warm embrace, she entered me again. She didn't move as before, but more slowly, taking her time as her whole lower body moved. I felt her hands all over me.

The final time was when the alarm clock rang. It was time for me to get back to my duties, be a maid again. But Mistress wanted me to be her girl for just a while longer. First with my mouth, then with my sissy hole.

“After you are properly in uniform, don't forget to report to Madam Directrice.” Mistress said with an indifferent tone. Now that I was her lowly employee again, she treated me as such. “You've been gone for a week, so she'll want to address some current affairs with you.”

“Yes Mistress,” I said as I slipped on my other pump, then bobbed a curtsey.

“And tell Frau Seiler I will have lunch in my study today. I have a lot of business to take care of.”

“Of course, Mistress. May I be excused?” I said obediently.

She didn't say anything, didn't even look up as she gestured with her hand, signalling me to leave.

I bobbed again, and left her room, making my way to mine and my growing collection of maid's uniforms.

Still, I didn't really mind. It felt comforting to be back in these corridors, doing familiar maid's work for a woman that overawed me. After the strange events at the Rosenberg mansion, things were quickly returning back to normal, for a certain definition of 'normal', that is.

Yes, I was back where I belonged, I thought as I minced down the hallway in my heels and babydoll.


******************



Madam Directrice looked up from her little black book. Her stern eyes made me feel very uncomfortable as I stood there.

Resting her elbows on her desk, she folded her hands before her. “Apparently, you told a very nasty lie one week ago.”

I cringed under her sharp words. “...Yes, Madam Directrice,” I replied reluctantly. “I said that Danielle hadn't slapped Miss Katherine, when in fact she did.” My tight corset certainly did not help.

“I see...” Madam Directrice said as she got up from her chair and rounded her desk towards me.

“I shouldn't have to tell you that lying is a cardinal sin for a sissy,” she spoke as she stood next to me, just out of my field of vision as I kept my eyes meekly on the floor. “Especially when protecting improper behaviour of a fellow sissy.”

“Yes, Madam Directrice,” I answered, noticing that I was fidgeting. “I am very sorry.”

She ignored my plea, looking into her booklet again. “Fortunately, it seemed that you quickly realized your mistake and requested an appropriate punishment.”

“Madam Directrice?” I asked confused.

“You volunteered to share Danielle's chastisement, no? Twenty-five lashes?”

Well, that was not quite what happened, but I wasn't about to argue. “Yes, Madam Directrice.”

She smirked. “Severe, but a punishment befitting the crime.” She bent forward, putting her mouth close to my ear and whispered. “However, since you did it to protect your little friend instead of your own sorry hide, I will be lenient. I will use my bare hand instead of a crop.”

“Thank you, Madam Directrice,” I said with a modicum of relief.

“Oh, don't thank me yet. These hands have broken wooden boards an inch thick. We'll have to see if they won't break you.” She sat down on a chair. “Come here, Cheryl. Over my knees and raise your skirt.”

“Yes, Madam Directrice. I skittered over, and laid my belly on her lap, holding the hem of my dress.

Madam Directrice rubbed her hands together, then touched my behind as if she was prospecting for the most effective spot to slap.
 
“Ready, sissy? Then, repeat after me: One, I must not tell lies...”

“One,” I echoed. “I must not tell lies...”

The sound of the slap was like a gunshot, and felt like one too.

“Two, I must not tell lies...”

I left Madam Directice's office a short while later, ready to begin my duties. I tried to mince in an appropriately feminine manner, but the fire that was still burning in my behind made that agonizingly difficult. I wasn't looking forward to folding a heap of panties next. The last thing I needed were a stack of reminders of my painful behind.

Still, I scampered towards the laundry room. It was not like I had any choice in the matter.

Yes, I thought grimly. Sissy Cheryl was back where she belonged, all right