Frankly, it was a bit of a relief Carrie had posted something new, because it gave me more time to do another illustration for this chapter. If you don't see an illustration here, it's because all was for naught- I've been having a tough time motivating myself. And now I'm sick and feel even less like drawing- however, that seems like a lame excuse after I just watched this behind-the-scenes thing of a performer dancing all night for a music video despite fighting a nasty cold.
This extended lack of activity on my part is especially bad timing considering I inadvertently freaked out Carrie and Bambi a week or so ago when I suggested that if anything bad were to befall me, Carrie could carry on posting the rest of this story on behalf of Bambi instead. I wasn't trying to say that I expect anything bad to happen to me, but you never know. As I said to Bambi, it's not that different from giving the babysitter emergency numbers. It's not like you're anticipating tragedy to strike, but you want to be prepared just in case.
I've decided to just throw in the towel and upload this next part sans illustration, and if I feel more up to it later, I may still do an illustration for it and insert it retroactively or perhaps upload it as a separate post.
It's not as if Bambi's words don't stand up perfectly well on their own, but I see it as a good way to force myself to draw more, plus I want to illustrate it just because I feel so gosh darn passionately about this story.
One last thing: I don't know if anybody else will, but a minor detail I found interesting in this part is the fact that Margot owns a smartphone. Nothing strange about that- a lot of people do these days, but it's kind of funny when you realize that it's a piece of technology that probably hadn't even been invented at the time Bea started this story. Not that I find the presence of a smartphone incongruous; I don't think of this story as taking place in any specific time period- it's just an interesting indicator of how long it's taken for us to get a sequel. I guess in the grand scheme of things, being forced to wait a couple extra weeks for my lazy a** to post the next installment isn't so bad by comparison.
Okay, enough blathering from me. Here's the second half of Chapter 9:
by Bambi
The
next day began much like the previous one. The two maids woke me up – I did
sleep much better than the night before – and untied me from the bed. Still cuffed
they escorted me to the bathroom, stripped and cleaned me, and marched me naked
to the dressing room. I was placed on the platform, then they took out another
box from the closet and started dressing me.
An
hour later, a fluffy white cloud stepped out of the room. My four inch heels
clicked as I minced on the shiny marble. Jeanne and Bernadette walked close
behind me, complementing each other on a job well done.
When
they showed me my outfit for today, I thought they had made a mistake. It
seemed a couple of sizes too small. But the joke was on me.
I
was wearing an white empire dress with light blue trimming, a narrow bodice in
shiny silver just under my breasts. I was wearing a corset underneath, as
usual, but my petticoats were pulled up very high, almost to my chest. It gave
my dress a very flaring appearance, but it was so short. It hardly covered the top of my panties, let alone the
rest. My bottom was completely exposed beneath the insanely short skirt.
Its
neckline was cut low, so my much of my silver coloured bra was visible in my
cleavage. The fabric would narrow towards my neck again, where it merged with
an integrated collar. The white satin and flowery ornaments on the outside hid
the thick leather strap underneath. Jeanne has secured it with an ominous
click. She didn't even use a padlock. Apparently, each of the boxes in the
closet was a completely unique and very special outfit. Lucky me...
I
wore matching white satin gloves that came up to my elbows. Even the integrated
bondage matched, with the locks on the wrist cuffs mostly hidden by fake blue
flowers.
My
legs were bare, except for frilly white ankle socks with flowers printed on the
lace. They disappeared into shiny white patent mary-janes with one strap over
the foot and one around the ankle. Ornate blue bows hid the tiny metal padlocks
that locked the ankle straps tight. Fortunately, there wasn't a chain
connecting the locks. So far, at least.
Bernadette
had made sure my curly hair was immaculate, but I wondered why she even
bothered. It was mostly covered by a bonnet which Jeanne had put on my head and
had tied the blue ribbon beneath my chin with a wide bow. The front rim limited
my field of vision, aggravating the fact my collar made turning my head
difficult.
They
had tied another gag around my neck. Thank goodness they did not actually put
it in. It looked exactly like an oversized pacifier and I do not think I would
have survived the humiliation of having it in my mouth. Still, in a perverse
way, it did match my very girlish outfit perfectly.
But
the absolute nadir were my panties. Aside for my collar and various cuffs, I
wasn't tied up, but my panties more than made up for that. From the outside
they looked like regular white panties with blue frills, but that only served
to hide the incorporated harness that included a tight gaff in front and a
dildo in my backside. It wasn't a particularly large one, but unlike a plug
gently slid up and down with each step. And it had ridges...
“Flaunt
that butt, sissy!” Jeanne mocked. “Sway your hips. Your Mistress wants to have
a good view on your cute bottom today, so better give her a sight she'll
remember.”
Though
I wasn't actually hobbled, I made very tiny steps. The dildo somehow felt like
it was about to fall out, so I unconsciously compensated by squeezing my
sphincter. It made walking quite a chore.
I
heard the sound of leather striking satin, and pain shot through my left
butt-cheek. I squealed. I squealed again as the crop struck me on the other
cheek. I actually hopped inadvertently, both my heels clicking together as I
hit the ground. It made Bernadette snigger with amusement.
Jeanne
poked the tip of her crop against the back of my dildo. “Pay attention, chérie!
Flaunt that butt, I said! Do not make me repeat myself again.”
“Yes,
Jeanne” I said hastily. And boy, did I flaunt it.
They
didn't take me to the parlour, but we went to the garden instead. The maids
escorted me towards the mansion's back entrance and onto the wide garden. It
was a beautiful day. Spring had come to Switzerland early this year, but the
heat of summer was still a long way of. The blue sky illuminated the wide
stretches of grass, which were intersected with bushes and trees seemingly
placed at random. Only the long strips filled with colourful flowers were
arranged according some recognizable geometry.
For
a moment – just a moment – I was glad I was wearing my bonnet, as the
surroundings almost blinded me. What a difference from the inside of the
mansion! Inside, dark wood and old stone dimmed the light, but here in the
garden it was bright and vibrant.
With
an occasional poke or tap with a crop, the maids directed me along the paved
paths criss-crossing the garden. My heart skipped a beat when we came up to a
gardener who was trimming a rose bush. I knew there had to be other people at
the mansion, but this was the first one I actually saw. I groaned silently as I
realized a that stranger, a man no less, saw me wearing this preposterous
attire.
He
ignored me however. The man merrily greeted Jeanne and Bernadette in a language
I could not identify, and the maids returned his warm greeting. The man
chuckled as he looked at me and said something to Jeanne, who replied. The
maids and gardener then burst out laughing. I didn't know what had just been
said, but I was sure it was at my expense. I probably was blushing, but with
all the dignity I could muster while wearing a dress, heels, bonnet and
pacifier, I smiled prettily and minced past. I was very relieved when the rim
of my bonnet obscured his face.
After
what felt like an eternity, we came up to a small square with a gazebo in the
middle in which Mistress was waiting. She smiled widely as we approached the
wooden structure and the maids presented me.
“Ma'am?”
Jeanne said. “For your approval, may I offer you little miss Cheryl for
inspection?” With a gentle push she urged me forward. As was expected of me, I
bobbed a deep and respectful curtsey.
“Good
morning, Mistress. It is a pleasure to see you again,” I said as I tried not to
let a fearful tremor resound in my voice. “May I say that you look lovely on
this beautiful day?”
It
was incredible how different she looked compared to yesterday. She had
exchanged her black leather outfit for a sundress in pastel colours. It's skirt
was wider around the hem than was the fashion these days and more voluminous,
so she might have been wearing a petticoat underneath. On the hem of the skirt
and shoulder straps there was subtle black lacing. It was like she had taken an
18th-century gown and a modern dress and merged them into one. The dignified
gloves, sun hat and classic ankle boots she was wearing reinforced this
appearance.
“Why
thank you, my dear,” she said, smiling as she walked up to me, her gaze scanning
me from top to bottom. “And don't you look adorable,” she spoke as she circled
me, touching the hem of my dress and gently touching my panties. I tried not to
squirm as I felt her push on the dildo.
“Has
she been behaving?” Mistress asked the maid as she continued her inspection of
me.
“She
has been the perfect little sissy, Ma'am.” Jeanne replied, making me blush. “We
had to correct her gait and posture a couple of times, but nothing that an
encouraging tap with a crop couldn't fix.”
Mistress
nodded as she retied the bow under my chin that was starting to get undone. She
grinned as she touched the pacifier hanging from my neck.
She
radiated glee as she turned towards the maids. “Jeanne? Bernadette? You have
done wonderful work. Now would you please excuse little Cheryl and me? I'll
take it from here.”
“Of
course, Ma'am.” Both maids gave a respectful nod and walked away.
“Come,
Cheryl. You must be hungry.”
Mistress
took my hand and submissively I followed her to the gazebo, where a table was
prepared and breakfast was already waiting.
Mistress
sat me down at the table and I shuddered as my weight rested my my penetrator.
I saw slices of bread and toast in a small basket, some butter, strawberry jam
and other spreads, but there was only one plate. She sat down next to me, took
the plate and put some toast on it.
“Try
the jam, it is fresh. Tastes wonderful. You do like strawberries, don't you?”
She asked.
“Yes,
Mistress,” I answered, “but it seems I have no plate...”
“Really?
How careless. I will speak with my staff about that. Ah well, we'll just have
to improvise.” She put some jam on a slice of toast and held it in front of me.
“Guten Appetit,” she said smiling.
I
hesitated. I did not want to be fed by this woman! Then I heard my stomach
rumble. The slice of toast did too very appetizing...
I
relented and reluctantly opened my mouth. Mistress put the slice in. I had to
admit, it did taste very good.
As
she hand fed me my breakfast, she told me about the history of the garden. How
one of her ancestors had planted it to impress his lady. How Bismarck himself
sat in this very gazebo to marvel at its intricate design. I smiled prettily
and giggled impressed. I had no idea who that was, though.
After
breakfast I played the part of proper young lady as we chit-chatted over a cup
of tea. Thankfully, I was allowed to hold my cup myself.
“I
must say, Cheryl, you are quite a remarkable young lady,” she said at some
point. “I've met a lot of sissies, but none quite like you. Tell me, when did
you start wearing dresses?”
“Mistress?”
I replied confused. “I never wore a dress before Mistress Christina's birthday,
two-and-a-half weeks ago. She trained me well.”
She
dismissed my answer with a wave of her hand. “Oh, pish posh. Of course you did.
I know Christina is good, but even she cannot perform miracles. Just look at
you! You wear those heels and skirt like they were made for you.” She thought
about that for a moment. “Well those were, actually, but that is beside the
point. The point is that no sissy can be trained to your level in two weeks
without any previous experience. So who taught you?” She looked at me
quizzically.
It
was disheartening to be confronted with the fact that it was apparently so easy
to feminize me. I such a short time no less. But it stung that Mistress assumed
I actually liked it. That I would do it voluntarily.
Before
I came to Switzerland I was a man, and I had nothing to do with all this frilly
and feminine stuff. Yes, I liked it when girls wore dresses and heels and what
not, but I liked the girls in them,
not the outfits themselves, dammit!
I
smiled politely, hiding my annoyance. “I'm sorry Mistress, but it's the truth.
I've never before worn a dress in my life.”
She
completely ignored my answer. “What was your Mistress' name? Perhaps I know
her. Or him. Did you have a Master instead?” She continued asking.
Did
she just suggest I fancied men? “I never had one, Mistress. Really. Like I said
I've...” I tried to say, feeling increasingly uncomfortable.
“What
kind of clothes did you have at home? A maid's outfit no doubt. Any shoes? You
like boots, don't you? I bet you have a tonne of those.”
“No
outfits, no boots. Seriously...” I managed to call out before being interrupted
again.
“You
did not have toys though, I'm sure. You secretly wanted to, but were too scared
to buy them.” She chuckled, and I was starting to feel aggravated. She looked
at my gag.
“Ah,
but a pacifier... You could buy that without attracting attention.” She smiled wickedly.
“Yes, you have one of those. In your night desk, I bet. And every time you put
on your dress and heels you take it out and put it in your mouth.” She leaned
towards me, chuckling as she continued mocking me. “And then you'd mince all
across your apartment, secretly hoping someone would peek through the curtains
you did not close completely, so they could see you patter around in your dress
and with your childish pacifier...”
“No!”
I snapped. “I do not wear dresses! I do not put pacifiers in my mouth. I'm not
a sissy, I am a man!”
Mistress
looked at me. She smiled, then sniggered, then laughed out loud. My defiance
evaporated instantly.
She
shook her head as she laughed. When she was done, she focused her gaze on me
and her face grew stern again, but there was also a glint of delight.
“You
are a man?” She asked with a
domineering tone. “Did you forget what happened yesterday? When you proved that
you are most definitely not a man, but a frilly and submissive little girl? One who orgasms when she takes it
up the ass?”
I
stammered. “Er.. No.. Mistress. But... I mean... That was yesterday! But I
wasn't one before... Not in America... A girl I mean... I did not wear...”
“Enough!” she shouted. “Does little Cheryl here actually have some backbone left? Perhaps
she needs to be reminded of her position. Her position as a girl. As a sissy.” She looked annoyed, but I'm sure
it hid a modicum of amusement. She pushed a button on her smart phone that was
laying on the table.
She
got up from her chair and reached out to me. I squealed as she grabbed my ear
through my bonnet's fabric. I whimpered and pleaded as she dragged me from my
chair and out of the gazebo.
She
turned around me and grabbed me from behind, yanking both arms, pulling the
wrists together behind me. I heard something click, and my arms were secured.
Then she pulled my head back.
“So
you did not put pacifiers in your mouth before, did you?” She said in my
ear. “Seems to me you have some catching
up to do...” With her free hand she took hold of the gag around my neck.
“No!
Please Mistress,” I pleaded. “Do not put it in my muffh!” She interrupted me as
she forced the gag in and tightened the strap just under the back of my bonnet.
With
one hand she held me tightly by the neck. I struggled a bit, but there was
little I could do with my arms tied and in my towering heels. When she got fed
up of my resistance, she simply twisted one of my nipples.
The
two maids arrived shortly after. Jeanne was holding her crop, but Bernadette
was carrying a wicked looking multi-tailed whip.
“You
called, Ma'am?” The shorter maid asked.
“Yes,
I did. Silly little Cheryl here forgot her place. Would you be so kind as to
help me remind her?”
Both
maids smiled, but it was a mean smile. “Of course, Ma'am. You want us to
prepare the penalty box?”
I
tried to shout, plead, cry, but I only heard mumbling. I moved in Mistress'
grip, but she held on to me easily.
“Not
right now. I have something else in mind...” she said wickedly.
She
switched over to another language, French I think, and gave the maids
instructions.
She
switched to English again. “It appears that up to two weeks ago, little Cheryl
here wasn't a sissy. Never worn a dress in her life.” She was addressing her
maids, but she was clearly talking to me. “No heels either. Not even a
pacifier.”
“Oh
no, how horrible!” The two maids said in unison. Bernadette could not keep a
straight face.
“Indeed.
I think she is overdue for years of humiliation and derision.” She grinned at
me. I could only moan meekly. “Ladies? Would you be so kind as to march her up
and down the square and remind her just how ridiculous she looks right now?”
“But
of course, Ma'am. We'd be delighted.” They flanked me from either side and took
hold of me as Mistress let go. They unlocked my wrists, but held on to my arms.
“Mind your posture, girl,” Bernadette said warningly. I knew what that meant,
and held my elbows in my sides and arms out, hands limp.
“Ready,
Cheryl?” Jeanne said to me. “Give a thankful curtsey to your Mistress. Good. Now,
then. Forward... Mince!” She called.
Mistress
smiled widely as I tittered past her. “Do not spare the whip. That ass was just
made to be spanked.”
“Of
course, Ma'am.” The maid said. “All right, Cheryl. Pay attention now... Skip!”
I
didn't understand what she meant, so I hesitated too long. I groaned as
Bernadette whipped me on my bottom.
“Are
you deaf, girl? Skip!” Bernadette shouted behind me. “Click those high heels of
yours. Show your Mistress what a pathetic little sissy you are.”
What
choice was there? I skipped like a little girl.
“Oh,
isn't she adorable, Bernadette?” Jeanne said to her colleague. “I wonder what
else we can make her do.” The two maids laughed as I skipped along. I wept, but
the pacifier reduced my cries to cute moans.
******************
Mince,
skip, prance, hop, curtsy, mince, run, stop, stamp your feet, twirl around,
bend over, show your boobies, raise your skirt, flash your panties... Again.
Mince, skip, prance, hop... Smile like you are enjoying yourself, sissy, or we
will give you something to cry about! Mince, skip, prance, hop...
The
two maids ordered me around the square again and again. Making me move and pose
in the most humiliatingly feminine ways possible, mocking me at every step.
Aside from my burning shame, it was tiring too. Even Ingrid could not have
prepared me for this, and after the tenth time around, I started making even
trivial mistakes. By now my bottom was sore of the many lashes I had received.
All the while Mistress watched me from the gazebo with wicked delight,
occasionally relieving one of the maids.
The
sun was approaching its zenith when Mistress finally decided I've had enough.
She was almost gentle when she took my hand and guided me back to my chair. I
groaned as I sat down on my sore behind. Bernadette then tied my wrists to the
armrests, double checking the bonds were secure. They left the pacifier in. At
least I could take a load of my tormented feet, though.
Mistress
relaxed in her chair, savouring the nice spring morning. A warm breeze flowing
gently through the gazebo. With noon approaching, the sun was starting to get
hotter, but here in the shade it was very comfortable. Even I allowed myself to
enjoy the weather and relax a bit.
She
made casual conversation, not perturbed in the slightest I could not join in.
In fact, she was very amused by the fact that with the pacifier in my mouth I
could not gainsay her more outrageous statements.
“When
you used to dress in your pretty frilly outfit, would you tie yourself up?
Would
you sit on your bed, bind your hands and feet, put the pacifier in your mouth,
and just lie there? A helpless damsel in distress, secretly hoping someone
would come in, see you in your helpless state and use you like the slut that
you are?” She couldn't keep a straight face while she said it.
I
groaned in resigned annoyance. She took it as confirmation, obviously.
“You
did? Oh, how marvelous! You must be so happy to be here, then. I am more than
willing to use helpless little sissies like you. Again and again. Because I
know how insatiable you are,” she said tauntingly
Only
when the two maids finally brought lunch did she remove my gag. It was a warm
meal with meat, vegetables and potatoes. This time I had a plate, but with my
arms tied down, Mistress fed me again.
After
lunch she untied me and took me for a stroll around the garden. Considering
what had happened only hours before, Mistress was very courteous. She treated
me like a proper young lady.
I
was very glad with her sudden change of temperament and behaved and talked as
was appropriate, hoping to extend this moment of serenity as long as
possible.
She
complimented me on my appearance, mentioning how cute I looked in my dress. How
lovely my heels were. I was quite sincere when I giggled a bashful 'thank you'.
I
must have played my part well, because when we came to a bench, she sat down
and pulled me on her lap. She kissed me on the lips while teasing my boobs. I
giggled and squirmed like a shy damsel in a lover's embrace.
Not
that there was was any love though. I was thankful for the moment of relative
quiet, but I still did not like Mistress Margot. She was mean. She was scary.
But I was also in her clutches, so I had to make the best of it. As for
Mistress, I think she recognized my aversion for her, and it only seemed to
entice her more.
But
I had to give her due credit. After only some kissing, teasing of my breasts,
stroking the insides of my thighs and nudging the dildo in my behind, she had
managed to get me excited again. She hadn't even touched my clitty, but already
I felt it straining against my gaff. I wasn't even conscious that I started to
kick my legs prettily, which amused Mistress greatly.
It
amused her even more when she suddenly stopped and pulled me from her. I looked
at her in confusion as she got up and rearranged her dress. With a smile she
pulled me towards her and we continued the stroll like nothing had happened. I
felt like a bucket of water had just been poured out over me.
Shortly
after we arrived back at the gazebo. The maids had cleaned the table, but had
left a small chest on the table. This did not bode well...
She
guided me to my seat and then sat down herself, ignoring the heavily
embellished chest on the table. She made some casual conversation like before,
and I replied as was expected of me, but I could not help noticing the evil
smile on her face. She ignored my inquiries about the chest.
Half
an hour later, she received a phone call. “Tout est
prêt?“ She said over the line, then listened for the reply. “Très bien.”
She
hung up and turned to me.
“I'm
bored,” she said. “Let's play a game.”
A
shiver went down my spine. I had been dreading this moment. “Mistress?” Was all
I could say.
She
grinned. “Just something to pass the time. Idle hands are the devil's workshop
even for ladies of my status. It is certainly the case for sissies. Time to get
your cute little butt moving, you lazy girl.”
I
tried to hide my anxiety. “I do not think I am in the mood for a game,
Mistress,” I said. “How about we make another walk around the garden. I'd love
to see the fountain again, and...”
“Oh,
hush, girl.” She said sternly. “It will be fun.”
She
pulled the small chest towards her and opened the lid. She took out a few
items, held them up for me to see them, then placed them next to the box.
Chains mostly.
She
closed the chest again and let her hands rest on the lid. “I hope you paid
attention when I showed you the estate. Because I'm sending you on a little
quest.”
What
on earth was she talking about? “Mistress?” I asked confused.
Her
smile was a remarkable combination of comforting, amused and mocking. “Listen
carefully, girl. When the game starts, as quickly as you can, you must reach
the sanctuary. If you do, you win and I'll give you two hours off. If not, well...”
I
gulped. “What is the sanctuary, Mistress?”
She
laughed. “I do not know! That is what makes it so interesting. It is your task
to find out where the sanctuary is. Jeanne and Bernadette have left a trail of
breadcrumbs all over the estate, both inside the mansion and out in the garden,
that will eventually lead towards the sanctuary.”
She
shoved the chest towards me. “This is the first one. Inside is a clue where you
can find the next. The final one will tell you where the sanctuary is.”
I
tried to wrap my head around this. “So to win I have to go from one clue to the
next until I reach the sanctuary, Mistress?”
“Basically,
yes, but not quite as simple. It's no fun if there isn't a challenge. I'll be
playing too!”
“You're
trying to reach the sanctuary as well? It's a race?” I asked.
She
laughed. “Oh no, my dear. I'm too old and far too distinguished to go running
around like that. Instead, I'll be the ghost to your pacman.”
“Huh?”
Was all I could say.
She
rolled her eyes in annoyance. “I'll be hunting you, stupid girl. You'll have a
ten minute head start. After that, while you are searching for the next clue,
I'll be looking for you. And if I do,
I will catch you. And you do not want to be caught.”
I
gasped “I would lose?”
She
shook her head. “No. Not immediately, at least. But it would cost you. You will
not be bound when we start, but each time I catch you, I'll use one of these to
tie you up a little bit more,” She shoved the chains towards me, “making it
more difficult to move around and find the next clue. You will then receive
another ten minutes before I continue the hunt.”
She
tapped on the bonds. “I have five chains, so I can catch you five times and
you'd still be in the game.” Her smile was frightening. She reminded me of a
cobra ready to strike. “The sixth time, however... well... Game over.”
I
felt like there was a lump in my throat, but managed to ask a question. “Will
Jeanne and Bernadette be joining you?”
She
smiled. “Good question, my dear. No, they will not. They have other tasks to
perform. However...” She raised a finger in warning. “Let me remind you that
improper behaviour is still forbidden. If Jeanne or Bernadette catch you doing
something or moving in a way that is not appropriate for a sissy like yourself,
they will punish you. You would not be disqualified, but if they spank you your
pathetic groans and yelps will be all I need to pinpoint you.”
She
let that sink in for a moment, then looked at me.
“Oh,
and one more thing: it would be unfair to ask the staff for help, so do not
talk to them. To help you remember this...” She leaned towards me.
She
fidget at a bit and leaned back in her chair, smiling. She clearly enjoyed
seeing my dismay, eyes wide in shock and humiliation, of having my pacifier put
in my mouth again.
“Understood?
Good. Well then... Let the game begin. Here is your first clue. Time starts
now. Remember, ten minutes.” She took out another item from the chest which she
placed in front of me. It was a spoon.
I
looked at Mistress confused. What was that supposed to mean?
She
returned my stare with a smirk, savouring my confusion. “What are you waiting
for, girl? Go! You've already wasted thirty seconds.”
Still
confused, I got up from my chair. I looked at Mistress. I looked at the garden.
What on earth was I supposed to do now? Where would I go?
Mistress
slapped my bottom. “Hurry up! That is a minute you've squandered. Get moving!”
I
minced out of the gazebo. My heels clicked on the pavement. It they felt like
they were impossibly high. I looked left and right. What should I do?
“Faster,
girl!” I heard her say behind me. I turned and saw her standing in the gazebo,
grinning like a hungry wolf.
“Run,
sissy! Run!” She shouted. “Mistress is going to get you!”
I
ran.
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