Chapter 19: Back to school. Cheryl is enrolled in Baroness Von Wytenbach's Finishing School for Young Ladies of all Genders
Monday, December 28, 2015
Chapter 19: Back to school. Cheryl is enrolled in Baroness Von Wytenbach's Finishing School for Young Ladies of all Genders
After we returned from our barbecue, I was practically dragged upstairs where Mistress' daughters escorted me towards the bathroom.
“First, let's get you relaxed and smelling like roses, then we'll get to work on your hair,” Martina said as she opened the tab and filled the bathtub. She added several different fancy oils and powders to the steaming water.
She tested the water temperature. “Perfect. Get undressed, Cheryl, and get in.”
It was getting eerily similar to the first time I met these ladies, I thought. “Thank you, Miss Martina,” I replied awkwardly. “I can take it from here.”
“Oh no, you can't!” said Ingrid, who was standing next to Brigitt in the doorway. Both had a wicked smile on their faces. “Now, no more dawdling, Cheryl. Clothes off and into your bath!”
Yep, very similar indeed, I thought as I stripped.
I felt very self-conscious as I got naked, surrounded by these three women. They were talking amongst themselves as they watched me. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but I'm pretty sure I was the topic. Presumably they were discussing my appearance and what to do with it. Brigitt had a nasty tendency to underline her words by prodding and probing me, and even slapping my behind. I was glad I could escape her by getting in the foamy water.
“You just relax, Cheryl. We'll handle the rest,” Martina told me as they finally left the bathroom. I allowed myself to lean back and close my eyes, feeling only the warm water nurse my body. I smelled the scent of spring flowers.
Perhaps I had dozed off, as this moment of solitude was over far too quickly. I heard footsteps approach. I had just opened my eyes as Martina entered the bathroom.
“How are you, sissy? Nice and relaxed? Very good. Oh my, don't you smell lovely? Give me your hand. Hmm, your skin is very soft and smooth. Excellent. Let's get to work on your hair.” She said as she grabbed the showerhead, pouring a stream of water over my head.
Shampoo, conditioner, lotion, oil. She poured the contents of one bottle after another on my hair, each time extensively rubbing the fluid into a lather and then carefully rinsing my long blonde hair before continuing with another bottle. It had actually been rather relaxing, her fingers softly massaging my scalp as she casually talked about trivial matters.
As if on cue, her sisters entered just when I got out of the tub.
Brigitt eyes honed in on me. “Someone smells very feminine. And it sure isn't Ingrid,” Brigitt said with a chuckle, causing her sister to smack her arm.
“Ow! Hey, it's true!” She said with feigned indignation. Ingrid just smacked her again.
“Will you two quit fooling around and get Cheryl a towel?” Martina admonished her sisters.
Brigitt reacted quickly, grabbing a towel and holding it open, an expectant smile on her lips. I answered her smile dutifully, stepped up to her and let her wrap the towel around me. She was very meticulous as she rubbed my skin dry.
Ingrid brought me another towel, which she wrapped around my long blond hair.
“Let's get you ready for bed,” Martina said gently.
“Bedtime already?” I asked in surprise. The sun wasn't even down yet.
“Of course, silly girl. School starts early, and you need to be well rested,” she replied. “Besides, you can't show up at such an exclusive school looking ragged and dressed in sack-cloth. You must be a picture perfect sissy, one that makes Mutter proud. And that will take a while.”
She didn't have to tell me that. Despite weeks of practice, I'd still spent quite some time on my appearance each morning. Not that I wanted to obviously, but I had to be conscientious. Madame Directrice's tolerance for mistakes was lessening by the day.
Still, this was silly. Normally, my shift would not even have ended yet. I tried to tell these women, but they would have none of that.
“Oh, be quiet Cheryl,” Ingrid snapped. “Get your ass back to your room. We've still got a lot of work to do.”
Flanked by Ingrid and Brigitt I headed back. The latter had put her arm around my waist, making me nervous. Especially since I had had bad experiences with stern women guiding me to and from the bathroom. At least they didn't handcuff me like Mistress Margot's maids were wont to do.
Back in my room they did not put me to bed, but sat me down before my vanity mirror. Then the three of them went to work on the things that couldn't wait until morning. Ingrid started brushing my hair, then began placing curlers. Martina gave me a manicure, while Brigitt removed what was left of my makeup and other imperfections that had escaped attention.
When they were done my expertly clipped and filed nails were given a bright red polish, my hair was rolled tightly around the curlers and a few stray body hairs removed. Even my eyebrows and had been carefully plucked.
Ingrid placed a protective cap over my scalp, while Ingrid handed me a babydoll and panties to wear for the night. Both were so sheer I wasn't sure they were there at all. She had a wicked grin on her face as I put them on.
Martina took my hand and gently directed me to my bed. I sat down, and she handed me a glass of water. “Here, drink this. You need to stay hydrated.”
I noticed that I was indeed thirsty. Well, it had been a hot bath, so I must have been sweating a bit too. I thanked her as I accepted the glass and took a sip. Then I gulped down the rest.
I lay down on the mattress and Martina pulled the blankets over me. I yawned as a warm cloud enveloped me. I must have been more tired than I realized, I thought as my substance was lost among the soft sheets of my bed.
“Goodnight Cheryl,” Martina said from far away. I could see her outline at the side of my bed, but it had suddenly gone rather dark in my room. What time was it again? I thought about asking, but it didn't seem important, so I just said goodnight to no-one in particular as nothingness came over me.
Usually I'm the first to get up out of bed, so I can start with my chores while the rest of the household is still fast asleep. Today however, I was rudely woken when the three sisters barged into my room unexpectedly.
“Wake up, Cheryl. It's time for school,” Martina spoke as she sat down on the side of my bed. “Let's get you ready for your first day.”
“Wha..? Whaz-zizt?” I replied groggily, not sure where I was or what was happening around me. Martina urged me upright, and I struggled to regain my wits.
I had trouble focusing as I desperately wanted to go back to sleep again, but I noticed that the three ladies got me out of bed as meekly I followed their lead.
They placed me in front of my vanity mirror once more, and started to work on my appearance. I felt Ingrid remove the curlers, while Martina began applying makeup.
I was still dazed when Brigitt brought me my outfit for the day. I obeyed her instructions, even though I cannot remember what they were, and felt the various items cover me as she put them on. The tight but familiar pressure of the corset. The awkward prodding of the plug. The push of a gaff. The instability of the heels. She pulled a one-piece dress over my head, and then I was done.
The rest of the morning was a blur as well. I know I met Mistress, and we had breakfast together. I think I even had coffee, as unlikely as that may seem.
At some point my drowsiness was finally lifting. Though I still felt a rumble in my head that reminded me of a mild hangover. Did I have alcohol the other day?
“Are you awake, sleepy-head?” I heard Mistress say.
“Yes Mistress,” I answered, unable to suppress a yawn. I wanted to rub my eyes. But Mistress grabbed my hand. “Don't. You'll mess up you makeup.”
I blinked in surprise. “I'm sorry, Mistress. I must really have been exhausted from our picnic yesterday.” I focused on my surroundings. “Wait... where are we?”
I recognized the car. I was sitting next to Mistress on the back seat, while Madame Directrice sat behind the wheel. I felt motion as the car changed lanes.
Mistress ran her fingers through my hair, where I had leaned against the head rest. “We’re almost at Freistaat, my dear,” Mistress answered, misinterpreting my question. “I'm glad you woke on your own accord. I would have hated to disturb my sleeping beauty, but we cannot let the Baroness wait.”
“The Baroness?” I echoed hesitantly. Then I remembered
Oh, right. The Baroness Von Wytenbach, I thought. One of Mistress friends who shared her kink. Who had made a school dedicated to it. I was going to sissy-school...
I cold chill went down my spine. All traces of drowsiness were instantly gone.
The car left the main road and drove towards the industrial centre. We passed several warehouses, then came up to a gate. Several pedestrians were standing by a small building where guards in blue uniforms were checking papers.
When they saw us approach, the guards raised the barrier. Madame Directrice answered their greeting and drove into Freistaat. Now the bland architecture of the industrial district was replaced with the faux-traditional style of sissy-ville.
It was still early, but already people were up and about. Most of them were locals, busy with opening their shops and businesses. Some tourists too, clearly anxious to witness the warped world of Freistaat.
As we drove past, I saw a sissy standing near the entrance of a store selling very adult items. The morning shadows still covered much of the narrow streets, but a single ray of sunshine had found its way between walls and rooftops to illuminate her purple dress. It was a pretty dress, but it looked alien or her. She was probably new and clearly needed a lot more training.
I saw light being reflected from tears. She was arguing with a woman, pointing at the store and shaking her head. The woman who looked at the sissy with amused contempt. Then she simply grabbed the sissy and dragged her through the shop's door like a petulant child.
Then we turned a corner and this slice of Freistaat life was out of my field of view.
We reached the small square at the centre of the district, and I saw the school loom over its north side. It was completely illuminated by the rising sun, giving life to the red brick walls and marble steps. Two pillars flanked the main entrance and carried the façade where the school's name was carved in stone: Von Wytenbach's Etikette-Schule für junge Damen aller Geschlechter.
Madame Directrice drove the car across the square and parked it near the steps in front of the main entrance. She got out of the car to open the door for the passengers as was customary, but Mistress was clearly impatient. She opened the door herself, got out and offered me her hand. Her smile was unusual, radiating... pride? Like she was anxious to show me off to the baroness.
I felt myself blush as I took her hand. Using her support for balance I got out with all the feminine grace I had. I heard my heels click on the stone tiles, and I sensed how low they were. Mistress pulled me upright and I felt the morning sun stroke my face. I looked down to inspect my appearance.
I straightened my dress, which only now I really noticed. It was a very simple pristine white party dress. It covered my shoulders, but left my arms bare. It showed some modest cleavage, but nothing trashy. It was cut a bit tight at my waist, but the skirt fell loose around my thighs, showing a lot of leg but keeping my panties well hidden. It didn't incorporate any frills or lace. Compared with the poofy monstrosities I usually wore, it actually looked rather classy.
My legs were bare, and ended in two white patent mary-janes that felt remarkably comfortable. I titled my foot to check the heel. No more than two inches, lower than anything I've worn since mistress' daughters introduced me to high heels.
Mistress saw my surprised expression. “I wanted you to wear your normal height, show off your pretty legs, but the baroness insisted you'd wear lower heels. Part of your training program, I reckon.”
“I see Mistress,” I replied absentmindedly. I was just happy to feel the unexpected freedom of not being continuously hobbled.
Still, it didn't expel my rising dread of being in drag in public. I looked around me. The square was mostly empty, for which I was grateful. I saw some pedestrians at the other side, but aside from some curious glances, they ignored us. I sighed, grateful it was still so early in the morning.
Another car was parked close by. I recognized it as miss Rosenberg's. “Margot is already inside,” Madame Directrice spoke as she looked up from her phone.
“Good. Let's join them,” Mistress replied, then turned to me. Her expression was grave. “Listen Cheryl, Gisele was so generous to let you enter her program even though it was already booked to capacity with a two-year waiting list. I expect you to show her all the respect, obedience and gratitude she is due, understand?”
I adjusted my posture before replying, my back erect daintily, my eyes lowered in a humble expression. “Yes mistress. I will be perfectly behaved and do nothing to dishonour myself or tarnish your good name.”
She was still holding my hand, but with her other she tilted my chin up, making me look into her eyes. She was smiling.
“I know, my dear.” Her hand went through my hair and she gave me a soft peck on the cheek. I felt an elated blush radiate from my cheeks.
“Shall we?” She asked me as she nodded towards the entrance.
“Yes Mistress,” I replied in my most feminine voice as she led me away.
Still holding my hand she escorted me to the doorway. I was glad Mistress was there to hold me, because with every click of my heels on the marble steps did my apprehension grow. My heart was pounding out of my chest when we finally reached the main door. It looked massive, like the main gate of some foreboding castle, completely impervious to any intruders trying to get inside.
Or any prisoners trying to get out, I suddenly thought.
There was a massive knocker in the middle of the door, but mistress ignored it in favour for an unremarkable button next to it. From an unseen source a mechanical voice asked us to state our intentions.
Mistress introduced us to the voice. “I'm Christina Jaeger, here to deliver Cheryl to Gisele.”
“One moment, please,” the metal voice replied.
After a couple of seconds I heard a hard click in the door and it swung open on it's own accord. It revealed a sizeable entrance hall where three people were already present.
I immediately recognized Miss Rosenberg and Daniëlle. The girl was wearing an outfit identical to mine, so I assumed it to be a uniform of sorts. Although she had said she had accepted her fate as a feminized sissy, she still looked far from happy. Her aunt held her by the neck as if she would otherwise bolt.
The third person was the baroness Von Wytenbach herself. She was inspecting Daniëlle like she was cattle, turning the girl's head side to side, then turned her around to have a good look at her from behind. I couldn't hear what was said, but it was clearly she was very content with the girl. Both ladies chatted elated with one another as they ignored Daniëlle's sulk.
“Gisele!” Mistress called out, causing the baroness to look up. A wide smile grew even wider as she saw us.
“Christina! Cheryl! Welcome, welcome,” she said as she hurried towards us, completely forgetting about Daniëlle. “So glad you could make it.”
“Well, we couldn't let Cheryl here miss her first day at your very expensive school, now could we?” Mistress said sniggering as the two woman greeted each other warmly.
The baroness laughed. “I usually do not play favourites, but for you and Margot I can rearrange the schedule a bit.”
There was some more chatter between the two, then Mistress turned to me. “Cheryl, where are your manners? Give the baroness a proper greeting. Now, young lady.”
“Of course, Mistress,” I answered hurriedly, startled by her sudden stern tone. It wasn't even my fault, I thought. Mistress was supposed to introduce me before I was even allowed to speak.
I bobbed a deep and respectful curtsey. “Greetings Freifrau Von Wytenbach,” I said humbly and submissively, trying to remember the words Mistress had whispered to me as we entered. “Thank you for inviting us and allowing me to enrol in your exclusive training program. I am overjoyed at this opportunity.” My voice didn't quite match the enthusiasm of my words. “I will strive to do the utmost to uphold the standards, practices, virtues and... er... traditions your school exemplifies.”
The baroness was silent as she regarded me, and I was getting worried that I might have gotten something wrong, or made a 'faux pas' somehow. Then she smiled as she turned towards Mistress.
“See Christina? Her bob is much better now. Always start with low heels when teaching them to curtsey. At least until they get it right.”
“Low heels? Where is the fun in that?” Mistress said with a snigger. “Next you'll tell me not to plug my sissies.”
The baroness shook her head in mock annoyance. “Don't tell me you plugged her? You did? Oh well, we can work around that. Get all those bad habits out of her.”
She observed me again, looking me up and down. Next she started to fiddle with me as she had done with Daniëlle, turning my head from side, turning me around, touching me in places that almost made me squirm.
Finally she looked straight at me, smiling thoughtfully, but directed her words to Mistress. “But I think you were right when you told me she is a natural. I have no doubt her performance will be exemplary in no-time.”
“Sounds like Cheryl will have it easy here,” Mistress replied.
A sense of relief came over me. Perhaps this would not be so bad after all. Just do as they say, learn my lessons, and do not attract any undue attention.
The baroness barked a laugh. “Oh goodness, no! Really Christina, do you think so little of me? That I would settle for good enough in my students? No, I strive for perfection! Unattainable for sure, but that does not mean one should stop trying. Everyone gets a education specifically tailored to her needs and capabilities. If Cheryl really is as talented as you say, we can just raise the bar higher for her. We'll keep her busy, be sure of that.”
I gasped in dismay, which both women surely heard but chose to ignore. Was I be spared nothing, I thought.
“Very good,” Mistress said with a content grin.
Mistress took my hand, then escorted me towards miss Rosenberg and Daniëlle. Mistress and Miss Margot exchanged some pleasantries, complementing each other with their very dainty sissies.
I curtsied for Miss Margot, saying something that was far too flattering for this horrid woman. Daniëlle bobbed for Mistress Christina. I noticed some improvement, but from Miss Rosenberg's frown I gathered it was far removed from anyone's standard.
I had actually contemplated performing a poor bob as well. If I underperformed, I might lower the standard the baroness would set for me. I decided against it, though. In mistress presence, I simply did not have the heart to do anything that would reflect ill on her. But I would do it later, I promised myself.
Then we greeted one another. We both curtsied. I couldn't help that mine was better, but I did my best not to upstage her. The poor girl had just come to terms with being a sissy, and I would not let anyone get the impression she's a poor one at that.
I matched Daniëlle's slow and awkward pace, giving her time to remember the necessary moves that by now came natural to me. I made sure we simultaneously dipped to our lowest point and then stood erect again.
We didn't get any further instructions from our keepers, so we just exchanged some meaningless pleasantries.
“Pleasure to see you, Cheryl. You look lovely today.”
“Thank you, Daniëlle. As do you. Your dress is really becoming.”
“You are too kind. Are you as excited as me to starts our education here?”
“I love your hair,” I suddenly said.
From the edge of my vision I saw the surprise in the baroness' face. I heard Miss Margot chuckle.
“My... hair?” Daniëlle said with a blush on her face.
Daniëlle's tresses were slightly longer than mine, but usually bound in a ponytail or some ridiculous hairdo her aunt forced on her. Now however, she wore it loose, and her chestnut brown locks of hair fell over her shoulders and onto her back, like a halo around her face. It gave her the playful wildness of a girl that was on the verge of being a woman.
“Yes, It's beautiful...” I said mesmerized as Daniëlle played with a loose tress. Then I remembered we were being observed and regained my senses. “Er... I mean, I compliment you on... your choice of hairdo. It is very pretty.” I looked to the side to see if my slip had been noticed. Margot and Mistress were grinning knowingly, while the baroness observed us with interest.
Now I felt I was blushing furiously as well.
“Is something going on between those two?” The baroness asked.
“Just some harmless sissy love, Gisele. Isn't it cute?” Miss Margot said with a wide smile. “Though you may need to keep an eye on these two, because they simply cannot wait to nibble each other's clitties, can't you girls?” Miss Rosenberg gave us a mean wink. It made me shiver with confusion and humiliation. Daniëlle closely studied the tips of her shoes.
“That certainly didn't take long,” the baroness replied.
“Well, we are partially to blame for that,” Mistress told her. “We've kept them paired up the last few weeks. So they could learn from one another, you understand. As a matter of fact, that is the reason why we are enrolling them together.”
The baroness had a thoughtful expression. “I see. But you must realize that at this school we tend to... discourage... these kinds of friendships. The training puts emphasis on a sissy's commitment to her dominant, and infatuations between sissies are a needless distraction from their education.”
I looked up confounded. Why was she implying Daniëlle and I had feelings for one another? She was just my friend! And how dare she interfere with our friendship. I said nothing, though.
Miss Margot made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Do as you please, Gisele. We wouldn't dare second guess your methods.” Mistress nodded in agreement.
“And I'm sure the girls feel the way. Isn't that right, you two?”
Daniëlle and I uttered an affirmation, but it lacked enthusiasm.
“Excellent,” the baroness said. “Then I suggest we'll introduce the sissies to their classmates. Follow me, ladies.”
She led us through a side door and down a corridor, towards a part of the complex she called the 'novice'-wing.
On some unspoken agreement Mistress and miss Rosenberg had traded sissies, with the latter locking arms with me while Mistress as holding Daniëlle's hand. They marched us down the corridor while the baroness told us some trivia about the school.
I felt very uncomfortable to be back in this mean woman's embrace, but a small part of my mind was mulling about something very peculiar.
Where were all the students? We passed a couple of staff members in the corridor, and I could hear activity on the other side of the walls. But I saw not a single sissy.
And where had Madame Directrice gone?
We passed a heavy-set door and came to an elevator, where the baroness gestured us inside. She turned to the control panel, but ignored the buttons and took out a keycard that she held in front of a sensor. There was a confirming beep, and the doors closed.
Another mystery. There were four buttons on the panel. Basement, ground floor, first floor and second floor. That seemed to correspond with the height of the building when I saw it from the outside. Was there another floor I had missed somehow?
Then I felt it. We were going down. To the basement? Daniëlle noticed too, her eyes were wide with confusion.
I watched the display. It turned from zero to minus one. But the elevator kept moving.
I looked at the baroness, who give me an emphatic smile, then turned to Mistress. “They generally get a bit confused at this point.” Mistress and miss Rosenberg sniggered. They obviously knew more than I did.
The elevator hummed as it descended further and further.
Finally the baroness turned to me and Daniëlle and answered our unspoken question. “We are going to an underground bunker complex. It was here before the school opened. Before Freistaat even. But the old entrance opened up right beneath this building. At first I did not know what to do with it, but after a couple of... unfortunate incidents, I decided to move the nursery and novice wing there. Much more secure.”
I gasped. “It's a prison!?” I cried out in disbelief.
“Cheryl! Behave!” Miss Margot snapped at me. “How dare you talk to the baroness like that? Apologize this instant!”
I wanted to protest. Tell her this was insane. That they were all insane. I looked at Mistress, who gave me a stern look.
I bobbed a respectful curtsey instead. “I'm very sorry, baroness. I... I don't know what came over me. You are gracious enough to take me into your exclusive school, and I had the audacity to speak ill of it.”
The baroness did not seem offended at all. More like amused, if anything. “It's all right, Cheryl. I know this is a bit strange for you. Besides, 'prison' is not the worst term I've heard. Even some of my staff members like to call it 'the pit', and this the 'hellevator',” she said with a chuckle.
I must have grown pale on the spot.
“They are just joking, girl!” the baroness quickly added. “You'll see it is very cosy and has all the comforts you could wish for. It's just that not all sissies are as well-behaved as you are. Some are even...” she let a pause fall “...unruly.”
I gasped. A hidden spot at the back of my mind thought: 'good for them!'. Everything else simply felt that resisting one's feminization was very unnatural.
Then her face grew serious again. “So for their own protection is was necessary to have them... adjust... to their situation in a environment we completely control. Until we are certain we can safely place them in one of the Houses above ground.”
“Houses?” I asked hesitantly.
“I'll come to that later,” she told me. “For now, just be your proper sissy-self and you'll be fine. See this as an opportunity to further your feminization without any outside distractions.”
“That's great, baroness.” I said with a difficult smile.
She smiled in return, then the elevator finally stopped. “Ah, we are here.”
The door slid open and revealed sissy-school's underworld.
I had to admit the underworld looked nothing like I had feared. After stepping out of the elevator we arrived in a empty room, with concrete floor, walls and ceiling. Hard fluorescent lights removed all traces or darkness.
Several doors opened up on the room. The baroness nodded towards the one on the left. “That's the nursery,” she said, but did not elaborate further.
She walked over to the one on the opposite wall. It was a heavy steel door that could probably survive a nuclear blast. She held her card in front of a sensor, then typed in a number code on a keypad. A buzz was audible form the door, and the baroness turned the handle.
What I saw on the other side could be described in one word: posh.
The baroness gestured me and Daniëlle to enter. Wonder-struck I stepped over the threshold, Daniëlle at my side. The girl's surprise even overcame her taciturnity “Wow... This is amazing.”
“This is the common area,” the baroness explained. Here you and your fellow students can relax after a hard day studying, though some tasks and exercises take place here as well.”
The room was very spacious. And completely redecorated. Not a trace remained of its origins as a bunker. The floor was completely laminated and interspersed with plush carpets. Most of the walls were plastered in white, though there was some warm yellow as well. The ceiling consisted of bright wooden planks. Even the metal door through which we had come was covered with wood on this side.
It was hard to imagine that this place was goodness knows how far under the ground. There was even a fireplace on the far end. And windows! On the left and right walls were small opaque windows, through which bright sunlight fell, which mixed with the light of the various lamps.
The baroness smiled as she saw my wonder. “This helps maintain the natural day-night cycle,” she explained. “Depending on the time of day lamps shine on the windows. Bright lights at daytime, reddish at twilight and darkness at night.”
Daniëlle was standing next to me as were looked around the room. I suddenly realized she was holding my hand.
The room was decorated like a lounge area, with modern furniture. Sofas were placed around the fireplace, close to which was also a large television set. A wide table with comfortable chairs was placed on the other side. A large bookcase completed the homely picture.
For a room made for the training of sissies, it didn't even look all that girly. The only concessions seemed to be a large mirror and fully stocked vanity table, as well as a couple of stuffed animals and dolls scattered around the room.
There were two more doors visible. “That corridor leads to your private quarters, the bathroom and dining room,” the baroness told us. “The other one to the classrooms.”
“Where is everyone?” Daniëlle suddenly asked. “Where are the other students?”
The baroness gave her a knowing smile. “We do not want to disturb your classmates, so they are in their rooms until your sponsors have left. ”
“Yes. The ladies that have paid a lot of money for you to start your training here.” She nodded to Mistress Christina and Margot. “Your aunt even offered double the usual fare so you could start on such short notice. Isn't that nice of her.”
Daniëlle suddenly felt the need to study the floor. “Yes, Gisele. Very nice...”
“I refused, of course,” the baroness added. “Being allowed to instruct the precious niece of my good friend was reward enough.”
“Say 'thank you', Daniëlle,” Miss Rosenberg told the girl.
“Thank you,” her niece muttered.
“Daniëlle...” Miss Margot said warningly.
Daniëlle looked up, a forced smile on her face. “Thank you for enrolling me to your school, Gisele. And for giving me priority. I'm honoured that you consider me worthy of special consideration. I hope I can live up to your expectations.” Then she bobbed a curtsey, as hopeless as ever.
“I have no doubt you will,” the baroness said tenderly “You'll be a proper young lady in no-time.”
“How long would that be?” I heard myself say. “Er... I mean, how long is our education, baroness?”
“That depends entirely on you,” she said, but nothing more.
One of the doors suddenly opened. Out stepped madame Directrice.
“Ah, ladies. There you are already. I brought the girl's luggage to their rooms. Everything seems to be in order.”
“Thank you, Esther. What do you say, Christina? Shall we kiss these little ladies goodbye and leave them in Gisele's good care?” Mistress simply nodded.
“You... are leaving?” I said dismayed. “Already?”
Mistress Christina put her arm around me. “Of course, silly girl,” she told me gently. “You need to focus on your studies. I would just get in the way. But don't worry. We'll see each other soon enough.”
“When?” I asked pleading.
She didn't answer that one. “I'll walk you to your room.”
Disheartened, I let Mistress guide me to the door.
I suddenly noticed a plastic box in the corner, a glass circle reflecting the light.
“Is... Is that a camera?” I asked.
“Of course it is, silly girl,” the baroness said. “Your tutors cannot be here all the time. For your own safety, we need to keep a watchful eye on you.”
“Oh...” I didn't have the heart to think too much about that.
We walked down the corridor, passing several doors. “These are the rooms of your classmates,” the baroness explained. I looked at the doors. They seemed normal enough, but somehow reminded me of those found in a prison.
The baroness gestured at two entrances at the end. “These are yours. Daniëlle, you take the one on the left. Cheryl the other one.”
Mistress escorted me inside. The room was smaller than my room at her mansion, but not by much. The bed looked soft and inviting and there was a small table with a plush chair. Obviously there was a mirror and vanity table that doubled as a writing desk. There was one of those false windows in the far wall, albeit a much smaller one.
Mistress sat me down on the chair, then kissed me on the cheek. “Now, be a good girl, Cheryl. I expect you to obey your tutor's commands like they were my own, understand?”
“Now you just wait here until Gisele comes to collect you.” She pointed to a small display and speaker with a green button next to the door. “See that? If you need anything, just press that button and say what's on your mind.”
I did not say anything. I wanted to beg her not to leave me here. To take me back with her. I'd be good, I promise.
But that is not what she'd want to hear. So I just nodded.
She gave me another kiss, then turned around and walked out without looking back.
Then Miss Rosenberg came in. “I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to my favourite house guest,” she said with a grin.
I was too downhearted to be afraid of her, but was unprepared for her vicious kiss. She put her mouth aggressively over mine and stuck her tongue in deep. I was gasping when she finally pulled out. “Have fun, my dear,” she said as she closed the door behind her. It fell shut with a loud clang.
I watched the door until all was quiet in the corridor. I walked over to door and tried the handle. I was not surprised to find it wouldn't budge.
I looked at the green button, but decided against asking for information. I sat down on the chair and just waited for my education, whatever it might encompass, to begin.
Friday, December 18, 2015
Chapter 18: A walk in the park. Cheryl is taken for a picnic.
The following Sunday, I was given an unexpected day off. While I was getting into my uniform, Ingrid walked in.
She smiled at me as she saw my half-dressed state. “Don't bother, Cheryl. Your chores have been postponed for the day,” she told me as she put some items on the bed. “We have something else planned.”
“Huh?” I only managed to utter. This was very unexpected. The last few days had been relatively quiet. Mistress mostly ignored me, as did her daughters. Even Brigitt limited herself to a few suggestive winks.
I also felt very self conscious for standing there half naked while Ingrid circled me, a smile on her face. It wasn't malicious, but wasn't comforting either. “Mutter has to... handle... a couple of things. She wants you out of the house while she deals with them.” She went to my closet and meticulously searched it for clothes that matched the items on the bed, selecting several pieces
“I'm going out?” I said aghast. “In public you mean?” I had been trapped in women's clothing for months now, and it still horrified me. But going out in public was infinitely worse. All those eyes that followed me about... The mocking stares were bad enough, but the lustful ones... I shivered.
“More or less. We're taking you for a picnic in the Marker Wald. It's open to the public, but it’s far off the beaten track. There will hardly be any people about.” She grinned at me. “Oh, don't look like that, girl. It's beautiful there. You'll love it.”
I doubted that. “A picnic?” I said hesitantly, tasting the word on my lips, trying to think of an appropriate way to respectfully decline. I glanced at the window. “But... it's raining,” I tried.
“Don't you worry about that. They're expecting the sun to appear around noon.” She took my hand and guided me towards the bed. “Besides, this is the perfect opportunity to wear your lovely new outfit.” She picked up the raincoat she had laid out on my bed, holding it up before me. She smiled as she raised one eyebrow.
“It's... great,” I said, answering her unspoken question.
Ingrid turned the car and we left the asphalt, driving down a dirt road that had become covered with thick mud. I heard loud splashes as the wheels rolled through deep puddles.
It was still raining, but the morning's downpour had given way to a mild drizzle. The windscreen wiper cleared Ingrid's view of the road before her until small droplets covered the glass again.
”Almost there, Cheryl,” Brigitt said while she gave my shoulder an encouraging squeeze. Her grin did not match her words.
I gave her a dutiful smile. I was not a complete surprise to find Brigitt waiting for us by the car that morning, given her unrelenting eagerness to see me humiliated, but it was still an unpleasant one. The fact that she had kept her arms around me possessively for the whole trip didn't help. I'm sure that if it wasn't for Ingrid, she would have taken me then and there.
The road ended, and Ingrid made a wide turn to park the car at the end of the muddy clearing that functioned as a parking lot.
Both women exited the car. I saw Ingrid walk over to the trunk, while Brigitt buttoned up her coat and looked up to the sky. She blinked as droplet hit her face.
She turned to me. “It's not that bad. You can come out now, Cheryl,” She told me as she held out her hand.
With a forced but graceful smile I accepted her hand and let her help me out of the car. I heard soft splashes as I put my feet on the ground, and felt cold moist envelop my face.
Brigitt looked me up and down with that wicked smile of hers, then closed up the top button of my coat. “There. We don't want our precious little girl to catch a cold, now do we?”
“No, Miss Brigitt,” I answered with a girlish giggle. Of course, given what I was wearing, one button more or less would make little difference. I looked down at my outfit.
Ingrid had selected something for me that I was both very childish and very adult. It was bright yellow satin sleeve dress with a print of white butterflies, which was very appropriate for a toddler. Perhaps it was actually made for a toddler, because it was preposterously short. The loose hem of the dress only barely covered my groin, and the petticoats underneath lifted it up even further. My cleavage was so low and wide the bodice barely contained my boobs, with only my bra preventing the girls from popping out. The dress' tight cut around my waist further accentuated my chest and hips. I couldn't see my short waist corset underneath my dress, but I sure felt it. It seemed Ingrid was just as unforgiving with laces as Brigitt. Al least she had left the narrow yellow satin straps of my choker a bit slack, the small metal pendant resting against my throat. Only my abundantly ruffled panties seemed to have an excess of fabric incorporated.
All this was covered by by canary yellow raincoat, but only just. It was barely an inch longer than my dress, and the top button still left some generous cleavage. A wide belt made sure my constricted waist was not obscured. The fabric was waterproof, but protection from rain clearly wasn't the most important aspect of this coat. It did not even have a hood. Fortunately, I also wore a matching hat with a wide rim, which kept the worst of the rain out.
To further emphasise my childishness, Ingrid had used ribbons to tie my hair in girlish pigtails which fell over my shoulders.
To protect my legs from the mud, I wore bright yellow rubber rainboots that came up to my knees, leaving my thighs completely exposed. They were tight and didn't have zippers, so I needed Ingrid's help to even get them on. And even she grunted when she tugged and pulled them around my legs. Getting them off would be even more difficult.
But what was worse was that these boots had high heels! The four inch heels were thicker than the stilettos I usually wore, but already I felt I had to watch my step or I would sink into the mud.
I looked up at Brigitt, feeling very self conscious about my ridiculous appearance. She smiled with wicked delight as she kept her eyes on me, not letting go of my hand. In contrast, she wore blue jeans and a black sweater underneath her expensive coat. Her sturdy hiking boots completed her very sensible attire.
Ingrid closed the trunk of the car and carried the tarp and picnic basket, handing Brigitt an umbrella. “You ready?”
“We are,” Brigitt said, not bothering to check with me. She turned around and tugged on my arm, forcing me forward. With an unsteady gait, I followed her. I heard splashing as I stepped into deep puddles of water.
“It's a short hike to the picnic place,” Brigitt said as she took a deep breath. “I just love the smell of the forest. Especially after a refreshing rain shower. Don't you, Cheryl?”
“Yes, Miss Brigitt,” I answered absentmindedly, focused on avoiding puddles and deep mud. Both Ingrid and Brigitt gave a snigger as I was mince marched towards the trailhead.
The air was reasonably warm, but the rain felt cold as it evaded my silly raincoat and hit my thighs. A chill crept up my legs, making my clitty even smaller than it already was, and I started to shiver as it went up my spine. Brigitt noticed my discomfort.
“What is the matter, sissy?” She asked me.
“I am cold, Miss Brigitt,” I said half-complaining, half-apologetic. “My coat. My dress. They are too short.” I pulled the hem of my coat down my legs do gain some additional protection from the weather
“Oh don't be silly, girl. You just need to keep yourself warm.” She shot me a grin. It frightened me.
“Er... Never mind, Miss Brigitt. I'm fine,” I said quickly. “It almost stopped raining anyway.”
“Oh, no need to act all tough, sissy. You are freezing, I can tell,” She said with a wide smile, which made it difficult to believe. “Don't deny it. We need to get you warmed up. Get you some exercise.”
“Exercise?” I echoed hesitantly. The plug in my behind suddenly felt twice as big. I unconsciously made a step backwards, but Brigitt held on to my hand.
She must have read my mind, because her smile grew even wider as she sniggered. “Why yes. Let's get those muscles of yours moving. Now, let's see, what could a sissy do for exercise..?”
He had tilted her head as her eyes bored into mine. Her grip in my hand tightened as I squirmed under her gaze.
“Brigitt... Jetzt keine Unsinn.” Ingrid said behind her with a warning tone.
The eldest daughter's head turned slightly towards her sister, but didn't reply. When she looked back, she had a sour expression on her face, but hid it quickly beneath a grin.
Suddenly she let go of me, and clapped her hands together.
“Oh, I know!” She said maliciously, keeping her eyes on me. “Little girls like splashing around in puddles. Well, you are a little girl, so...” She spread her hands and nodded her head towards a the nearest pool. “...splash!”
I looked at the puddle, then back at Brigitt. “...What?” I managed to mumble.
“Titter over to that puddle, and stamp your pretty boots like a happy little girl. Then mince around until you get to the next one. Keep frolicking around until we reach the picnic site. That will keep you warm. Try to keep up with Ingrid and me.” She waited a moment, then raised an eyebrow to show her impatience. “Well?”
I had to gambol like some child? In public? I looked around. There wasn't anyone else around, but I had seen other cars at the parking lot, and there were fresh tracks in the mud. “Er... That will not be necessary, Miss Brigitt. I'm not cold. Really.” Which was true. I was suddenly feeling rather hot instead.
She didn't reply. Just gave me a stern look which brooked no contradiction.
“I mean... er... I think it stopped raining.” I held out my my hand. “Well, mostly at least. I'll be fine.” I looked at Ingrid for support.
Her smirk dashed that hope. “You heard her, sissy,” she told me. “Hop to it. Hurry now.”
I think I wanted to object again, but two women's gaze silenced me. Then my feet carried me towards the small pool.
With small steps I minced forward, my arms daintily at my sides. The movement of my legs pushed the plug in my backside around. Perhaps it was because I was feeling so self-conscious, but my clitty began to fight against the cold.
I stopped just at the edge of the puddle. The mud was thick here, but my heels pushed through the slick top layer to the dry sand just underneath, giving me firm traction.
I looked over my shoulder at my two tormentors, who were both smiling in a way that I recognized from their mother. I didn't say anything, but pleaded with my eyes. Ingrid just gestured me to continue.
I looked at the puddle, then stepped in. I heard a loud splash as my boot penetrated the surface. Then another as I made another step.
It wasn't deep. When I reached the centre, the water just covered my toes. My boots kept my feet dry, but didn't keep the cold out. I pulled one leg up and watched water flow down the yellow rubber surface.
Apprehensively, but without any other options, I did what I was told. I put my foot down again, and droplets shot up an outwards.
“Stamp it like you mean it, Cheryl,” Ingrid called out to me. “I want to see drops fly.”
“Show us you are enjoying yourself,” Brigitt added. “Give us a nice puddle dance.”
The two women exchanged a few words, laughed, then started clapping their hands. “Go on, Cheryl. Dance. Move those lovely legs.”
And I did. I stamped my feet to the rhythm, water splashing around. I felt droplets hit my thighs, but most flew sideways. The some even hit the legs of the two ladies, but they did not seem to notice or mind.
The clapping continued, and Brigitt started a German rhyme. I had no idea what it meant, but it sounded catchy. Ingrid quickly joined in.
“Hoppe, hoppe Reiter. Wenn er fällt, dann schreit er...” I heard over the splashes.
“Come on, Cheryl! Dance!” Brigitt called out between stanzas. “That's it. Splish-splash. Good.”
The singing and clapping continued, and as a good sissy I put up a good show despite my reluctance. I smiled and made kissy mouths. Winked at my tormentors as I waved my arms and hands. My skirt rustled as I shook my bottom and kicked my legs. More then once did I flash my panties. The two sisters loved it and sang even louder.
“...Fällt er in den Sumpf, dann macht der Reiter... plumps!” And then it was over.
“You can stop now, Cheryl,” Ingrid told me, mocking smile still grafted on her face. “That was wonderfully, girl. Truly, no real girl can dance as dinky as Mutter's feminized little sissy.”
“Thank you, Miss Brigitt,” I managed to reply properly, blushing at the dubious compliment. I looked down shyly trying to avoid their taunting eyes.
I gasped in shock. “I... er... I have gotten some stains on my coat,” I said as I gazed at the muddy spots. I didn't mention my panties, which suddenly felt rather moist as well.
“Oh, you naughty girl,” Ingrid said. “ Well, don't worry about that, Cheryl. You can clean it when we get back. Besides, no picnic is complete without a al least one smudge. Speaking of which, let's continue. We still have some way to go.”
Brigitt nodded in agreement, and the two women resumed walking. I stepped out of the puddle and minced down the path.
“Cheryl? Aren't you forgetting something,” Ingrid asked.
“Miss Ingrid?” I replied, confused.
“You need to keep warm,” she said with a chuckle. “Keep dancing. You missed a puddle, see? Now, get in and move those legs.”
“Yes, Miss Ingrid,” I answered in resignation. I turned to the pond and stepped in.
“And keep up, girl,” She added. “We haven't got all day.”
The two women didn't cheer me on with clapping or song, they barely looked at me as they walked further down the path, but I danced anyway, moving my body to the beat of the splashing. Then I tittered forward to catch up and step into the next puddle, continuing my dance.
At least I wasn't cold anymore.
It was only a short distance to the picnic place, but there were a lot of puddles in my way. The two women made sure I didn't skip a single one.
They had slowed their pace, giving me time to give a convincing performance before I hurriedly minced towards the next pool.
Though seemingly ignoring my antics, talking with one another as I splashed around, they actually kept a close watch on me. Every time I slacked or hesitated, one of the women would turn her head and with a stern face snap at me.
“Cheryl! No dawdling! Get in there and move those legs, girl.”
“Call that a dance? Put some effort in it, sissy! I want to hear splashing.”
And I put effort in it. I smiled like an idiot as I splashed around, giggling and flapping my hands around like an over-excited girl. I wish I could say that was due to my tormentor's urging, but deep down I really was having a good time. I hadn't played in muddy puddles since I was a little boy, but as I watched the splashes fly around each time my boots broke the surface, I felt a childlike excitement wash over me. It hid my fear and humiliation of being trapped in drag.
I lost sense of my surroundings as I splashed around, seeing only the various puddles before me and the splashing as I danced around in them. I only heard my own giggling and the two ladies’ stern but amused directions.
I didn't even notice the hikers until I was almost on top of them. I had just stamped into a puddle, watching the droplets fly, and saw them land on two pairs of shoes I did not recognize.
Instantly, my elation was gone, feelings of shame and humiliation hitting me like a hammer. As my gaze went up the bodies of the two hikers, I could feel my cheeks burn.
As my eyes met theirs, I saw they were an elderly couple. The woman had thick glasses and grey hair, while the man was bald but had a well-groomed beard. They were both looking at me with a mixture of confusion and surprise, squinting like they were not sure they could trust their own eyes.
I stood there nailed to the floor, suddenly well aware of my horrid outfit, being watched by strangers. I began to feel light-headed.
Two voices behind me barked a laugh. “Watch it, Cheryl. Don't get these people wet,” Ingrid mocked.
“Don't be rude, girl. Where are your manners?” Brigitt added. “Give them a nice curtsey.”
“Yes, Miss Brigitt,” I heard myself say. Still standing in the middle of the puddle, I took hold of the hem of my raincoat, heard water slush as I put my right leg behind my left, and made a bob.
“It is a pleasure to meet you both,” I somehow managed to say without stuttering, but my voice thick with fear. “My deepest apologies for splashing water on you. I meant no disrespect.”
The couple looked at me some more, shared a glance, then the woman asked me something in a language I could not even identify.
“Er...” I managed to utter, but Ingrid interrupted me, answering in my stead. She walked up towards the hikers as she talked, smiling at me as she walked past. Brigitt stepped into the puddle next to me, putting her hand around me supportively.
There was some back-and-forth chatter between the puzzled looking hikers and the two sisters. I had no idea what they were saying, but between my tormentor's sniggering and the hikers astonished looks, I assumed I was the topic.
The woman shot me a glance, and asked Ingrid a question. She smiled, turned towards me, and said: “Cheryl, this nice lady was wondering if you are a girl or a woman, since you are dressed as the former but as tall as the latter. Would you be so kind as to enlighten her? I'll translate.”
Brigitt laughed. I felt her hand let go of my shoulder and drop towards my waist, then my bottom.
I gasped, my eyes wide with shock. Being seen in public was bad enough, now I had to reveal myself as well? I didn't say anything, but my eyes pleaded with Ingrid to spare me this indignity.
She just answered with a smirk. “Don't be shy, sissy. Tell the truth.”
Brigitt's hand stealthily worked its way underneath my dress, then into my panties. I would have squirmed if I wasn't desperately trying to keep these strangers from noticing it.
I stammered as I forced the words out of my mouth. “I am... er... not a girl... Or a woman... I am.... er... a man... who likes... er, I mean... dresses in girl clothes.” I felt myself shrink, face flaring up red, as my humiliating secret was laid bare before these strangers. Ingrid looked rather unsatisfied, but she translated my answer to the couple nonetheless.
Brigitt gave a content hum as she placed her hand on my butt-cheek one finger edging the base of my plug. That didn't help with my discomfort.
The old lady said something. “Cheryl? It seems this lady is convinced you are a real girl,” Ingrid told me. “Perhaps you can show her her error, hmmm?” She smirked as she raised an eyebrow.
I was sure my heart just stopped beating. She couldn't be serious, could she? I couldn't tell. The shame, Brigitt's teasing, I had difficulty thinking straight. All I knew for certain is that I had to do something. There was only one way I could think of, and that was too horrible to contemplate...
Ingrid looked at me with an expression that allowed no objection. I didn't see Brigitt's mean grin, but I felt it radiate beside me.
I could feel my heart pound in my throat, and my mouth had gone dry. Unable to take my eyes of the old couple I tried to think, but my mind was completely blank. Overwhelmed by the shock.
But my hands had taken a life on their own, and they obeyed without hesitation. I felt my fingers reach underneath my skirt and reach for the rim of my panties.
I felt a sharp pinch in my bottom, making my hands come to a dead stop. I couldn't suppress a startled squeal, though.
I turned my head to face Brigitt, and saw her disapproving frown. In confusion, I turned towards her sister who was equally malcontent.
“What do you think you are doing, you naughty sissy?” She snapped as she scowled at me. “No one wants to see your pathetic little clitty! We are not in Freistaat, stupid girl! This may be a forest, but it is still a public place. Indecent exposure will get you arrested. Do you want these people to call the police to drag you off to jail?”
“No, Miss Ingrid!” I replied hurriedly. “I'm sorry! But... you said I should show her that I wasn't a real girl...”
“A sissy is not defined by what she has between her legs, but between her ears,” she sounded like a college professor as she lectured me. “Your appearance, your continued behaviour, your every waking thought is focused on expressing your submissive ultra-femininity.”
Then her eyes turned into daggers as they stabbed into my soul. “You are not a man,” she said chillingly. “Not even a man dressed as a girl. You a full fledged sissy, heart and soul, and deep down you yearn to show it. Now, here's your chance.”.
She nodded towards the strangers before me, focusing my attention on them. “Go on now, Cheryl,” Ingrid said, suddenly sounding rather warm and encouraging,
I forced myself in a proper sissy stance, dripping with submission and femininity. I even managed a nice smile. “Oh, I'm no girl, miss. Not even a woman.” I said sweetly, which Ingrid translated for the old couple. “I'm a sissy, someone who just loves to dress and act like a girl, even if I was born a boy.” Ingrid smiled satisfied at she translated my reply.
The two hikers looked at me with stunned disbelief, then burst out laughing. I felt even smaller as my face flared up some more.
When Ingrid was finished translating, the man replied. “He's asking you why you would possibly want to look like this.”
I giggled. “Because it's wonderful to dress like this,” I lied. “I look so pretty. And I'm so much better behaved as a feminised sissy. So submissive and obedient. Much better than being some rowdy boy or savage man.” I smiled as I spoke the words my tormentors had placed on my lips, laying it on thick. And I continued talking, betraying my manhood in word and deed, excessive hand gestures accentuating my little speech.
While I was talking, Brigitt was slowly rubbing my bottom, her fingers manipulation my plug, moving it about in my behind. It felt uncomfortable, but also strangely tantalizing. Perhaps I was imagining it, but as she worked the plug, my words began to so sound more and more convincing. Did I really start to believe them or was I simply desperate to draw attention away from the area where Brigitt was fondling me? Either way, her sister was having trouble translating without laughing.
I however, kept smiling blissfully as I continued. “I mean, no real woman would humiliate herself by wearing this, would they?” I winked at the strangers while I opened my rain coat and showed them my absurd dress, revealing my exposed bra and panties.
Hearty laughs at my expense all around, and I giggled along to stop myself from crying. Brigitt prodding my behind now proved to be an advantage, as it prevented me from thinking too much what I had just done. Ingrid was still grinning when she reached into the picnic basket. “Well, you certainly convinced her, Cheryl. No way a silly sissy like yourself could be a real woman. Well done. Here girl, have a treat.”
Ingrid took out a piece of candy, a lollipop, and handed it to me. Apparently, my trials and tribulations weren't over yet, as it was a combination of colours moulded into a long spiral that reminded me a frighteningly lot like a ribbed dildo. Which is probably why my tormentors had bought it in the first place. I bobbed a respectful curtsey when I took it, and without any further instruction I took it in my mouth. I smiled as slipped it up and down between my lips. At least the taste was rather soothing.
As I put my skills to use on the lollipop, I tried to ignore the gaze of old man. Each time my lips ran over the shaft of the piece of candy, he looked more lustful. And another step closer to a heart attack, it seemed. And did the woman just glare at me jealously?
Ingrid looked at her watch, then turned to me. “Let's continue to the picnic place. Say goodbye to these nice people, Cheryl.” The lollipop still in my mouth, I performed a very prim curtsey. Ingrid and the strangers exchanged some more chatter, then the woman dragged to old man down the path.
Brigitt pinched my behind again, signalling me to head in the opposite direction. With a smothered squeal, I got moving.
It had stopped raining by the time we reached the picnic site. The sun had finally broken through the clouds and was spreading a warm blanket of late morning sunlight over the surrounding area. Still, it would be some time before the meadow before me would be dry, and I could see the sparkling of millions of droplets resting on blades of grass.
The field was interspersed with trees and bushes, surrounded by the thick forests we had just crossed, but in the distance I could easily see the eternally white peaks of the Alps. The sun was still struggling to penetrate the cloud cover surrounding these stone titans, and each peak was surrounded by a glowering halo of reflected light one moment, and an obscuring grey veil the other.
We headed towards the centre of the meadow, evading the soggy patches that littered the grassland, until we found a nice spot that was looked comfortable and not too wet. Flowers of various colours rose up from the green carpet at regular intervals.
Ingrid rolled out the tarp, while Brigitt pulled a blanket from the basket which she placed over the waterproof tarp. After creating this soft and dry picnic area, the two sisters sat down to evaluate their handiwork.
“Yes, this is nice,” The younger sister said as she leaned back, basking in the light of the sun.
Brigitt was taking out some items from the picnic basket. A bottle, some cups, three plates. I watched her unpack, standing on the sides, unsure what to do but not wanting to attract undue attention. It was getting quite warm here in the full sun, and I was almost blinded by the light reflecting from my own bright yellow coat. The two ladies had already taken theirs off.
Ingrid noticed me standing there awkwardly. She gave me a friendly smile. “You can take your coat off, Cheryl.”
I was rather reluctant, as my silly coat was the only thing hiding my even more ridiculous dress, but after a moment of hesitation I took it off anyway. “Hat too. Good girl.”
Her older sister waved me closer. “Come sit with us, Cheryl,” she said.
“Of course, Miss Brigitt,” I replied, mincing towards them, the ground splashing as I stepped through a wet patch.
“No, not there,” Brigitt suddenly said. She gave me a wicked grin. She patted the blanket right in front of her, between her legs. “Here.”
Ingrid snorted, but said nothing else.
I forced myself to smile, and muttered a 'thank you', though I felt anything but grateful. I have always liked my personal space, and Brigitt seemed to take particular delight in invading it relentlessly.
But she had her eyes fixed on me, so I didn't dare to refuse. Gently sitting down on the blanket, I positioned myself between Brigitt's legs, my back turned towards her. She wrapped one arm around my waist, the other around my chest, and pulled me close. I squirmed a bit, but she was relentless. She didn't appear to mind my reluctance, though. In fact, she seemed to relish it.
She rested her chin on my shoulder. "Relax, Cheryl," she whispered in my ear, "just lean back. I've got you."
She sure did, I could barely move in her grip as she held me tight. Still, it wasn't uncomfortable. Her body felt warm as I leaned against it, resting my head against her shoulder. If I wasn't keenly aware of Brigitt's duplicitous nature, I might have felt safe and sound in her embrace.
We sat there for a while. I was silent, while Brigitt hummed a tune I did not recognize. She had slackened her grip, and with one hand she fiddled with one of my pigtails, while the other softly touched the fabric of my outfit. Ingrid seemed fast asleep, snoring in a very unladylike manner.
Brigitt's fingers found their way to the hem of my dress. She gently pulled it upwards, revealing even more of my frilly panties. “Don't you look precious,” she said absentmindedly. “I love your dress. It's a bit naughty. A bit kinky. I can almost see your clitty and boobies, but not quite. How tantalising...”
I watched her hand pull my skirt up just a bit further, enough to reveal my panties' embroidered waistband. Then her manicured fingers slipped underneath it.
I gasped as I felt her fingers go down my panties, gently touching my skin.
I felt her finger reach the base of my clitty “Oh...” I uttered, feeling very conflicted.
Her fingers began to stroke my clitty, and I could feel it get excited.
“Miss Brigitt...” I said over a soft moan, my reluctant plea barely audible.
“Shhh,” she whispered in my ear as she kept touching me. Her other hand went up my chin, and she pressed her thumb against my lips. She didn't push it in, not yet, but instinctively opened my mouth slightly, ready to receive it.
She increased the pressure on my clitty, rubbing slowly up and down the shaft. I saw my legs move under their own volition, the yellow rubber boots catching and reflecting the sunlight in a golden shine. My hands dug into the blanket as I felt my body stiffen under my keeper's touch.
A voice cut through the moment. “Brigitt? Aufhören,” Ingrid spoke as she pushed herself up in a sitting position. “Nicht mit Mutters spielzeug spielen."
The older sister snorted annoyed. “Spaßverderber,” she said as she pulled her hand from my panties. I sighed. Out of relief mostly. But I felt some disappointment as well, I hate to say.
Ingrid rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “I'm hungry. Let's see what Frau Seiler made for us.”
Brigitt let go of me and shuffled backwards, towards the basket. “Sandwiches,” she said. “And the thermos contains tea, I think. You want some, Cheryl?”
“Oh, yes please, Miss Brigitt,” I answered happily as I turned on my knees and grabbed a plate and cup. I could definitely use a nice lunch to take my mind of my interrupted and very confusing close encounter with Brigitt. I tried not to notice the throbbing in my still hopelessly excited clitty.
Lunch was nice. The sandwiches were simple but tasty and filling. I did not care much for the herbal tea, but I wasn't allowed a single sip of the coffee the cook had prepared as well.
“Coffee is not for little girls,” Ingrid told me patronizingly, and there was little I could do but watch enviously as the two sisters drank their fill of the fine smelling beverage.
On the other hand, they didn't care about my diet, so I could eat all the salmon sandwiches I wanted. I have to say that after lunch I was quite content.
Still, I felt somewhat restless. Perhaps it was because of Brigitt's teasing, the sunny weather, or simply the fact that my plug bothered me, but I could not sit still.
I shifted position, and Brigitt sighed. “Don't move, girl.” She picked up the flower I had made her drop, and placed it next to the others she'd already put in my hair. She hadn't touched me as intimately as before lunch, but she kept me close to her, fidgeting with me, making me 'even prettier'. First by applying more makeup, and now by giving me a crown of white flowers. I felt her weave the flower stem trough the locks and curls just above my left ear until it was firmly in place.
I shifted my weight again, interrupting Brigitt's efforts to put another flower in. “Cheryl...” She said sternly.
“I'm sorry, Miss Brigitt, but I'm not comfortable,” I said as I changed my position once more, my behind feeling numb.
Brigitt was about to say something, but Ingrid cut her off. “You've been sitting still for too long, Cheryl” she said. “You just need to stretch your legs, get the blood flowing.”
Brigitt gave her sister a sharp look, but said nothing. Ingrid answered her with an equally stern glare. It only ended when Brigitt gave an annoyed sigh, rolled her eyes and looked away.
Ingrid turned towards me again, a playful smile on her face. “Go on, girl. Get up. That's it. Now, go amuse yourself.”
“Amuse myself?” I echoed hesitantly. “I don't understand, Miss Ingrid.”
“Play around. Have fun.” She gestured at the meadow around us” You have this whole field available to you, so there are a million thing a little girl like yourself can do to amuse herself. Pick flowers, kick a ball...”
“I don't have a ball, Miss Ingrid,” I replied confused, accidentally interrupting her.
She gave me a sharp look, but ignored my infraction. She turned towards the basket. “Actually...” She opened the lid and took out a bright red sphere, a little bit bigger than her hand. She held the ball up for me to see, spun it around on her finger for a few seconds, then threw it at me.
Startled, I almost tripped in my heels, but I managed to stay upright. The elastic ball fell right into my hands, but I dropped it anyway. The two sisters sniggered at my clumsiness. I scampered to pick up the ball.
“Have fun, my dear,” Ingrid said. “But don't wander off. We'll be right here.”
“Yes, Miss Ingrid,” I answered as I walked off, looking at the children's ball in my hands, probably looking rather baffled.
I moved about the meadow, kicking the ball before me. I minced up to the ball,
stood daintily erect, legs straight, elbows at my sides, wrists limp, then gave it a silly kick. The ball bounced once, then rolled a few yards. Next I would mince towards the ball again, and repeat the process. It all looked very cute and girlish. Very different from when I played soccer in the States, but I couldn't help myself. I like to think my heels simply made more elaborate kicks impossible, but the weird sense of pride I felt after actually hitting the ball (not to mention the elated squeal I occasionally made) indicated I had firmly slipped into character again.
Or was this my real character now? I pushed that worrisome thought away as I kicked the ball around.
“Where are you. Cheryl?” I heard Brigitt say. Because of the trees and bushes there were many blind spots around the field where the two sisters could not see me. I liked the modicum of privacy it offered, even if they regularly checked where I was.
“I'm over here, Miss Brigitt,” I called out.
“Try to stay in sight,” I heard through the bushes. Followed by a snore. Ingrid had fallen asleep again.
“Of course, Miss Brigitt,” I replied obediently, though I had no intention to do so. I had quite enough of Brigitt's attention, thank you very much.
I kicked the ball and watched it roll into a tree trunk, making a soft thud. “Score! Teehee!” I said as I flapped my arms enthusiastically. I looked at another tree, and wondered if I could hit that one too.
I skittered towards the ball, took a deep breath, and kicked my leg up. I glanced at the ball, and it bounced in a completely wrong direction. Worse still, I lost my balance and tipped over. With a yelp I fell on my behind. I landed on a soft patch of dry moss, but felt the plug push up hard. I gave a startled grunt.
Nursing my rear, I looked at the ball as it lay on top of a patch of tall grass. The red orb looked as if it was taunting me. I felt a sharp sting of anger. I may be a lowly sissy, but no ball would get the better of me!
With a huff I got to my feet, and I almost stamped my feet as I made my way to the ball.
I stood as domineering as was possible in a skirt and heels, leaning on one leg, arms crossed before me. “Think that was funny?”
The ball didn't answer, obviously. It didn't do anything, which felt like another insult.
“I'll show you!” I said as I kicked with all my might.
I hit it just right, my toes hitting it dead centre at full force. I kept my balance as I saw the ball fly high in a wide arc. I smirked contently.
“Who's laughing now?” I said.
The ball came down at a satisfying distance. It bounced twice, then came to a rest in a wet patch.
I walked towards it with a content hop in my gait. The ball floated in the middle of depression on the ground were the rain had created a wide puddle. The ball was caught by some blades of grass that broke the surface. My feet splashed as I stepped inside to retrieve my ball.
The first couple of steps went fine, but then I noticed something was wrong.
I felt my boots dig into the mud, but not hit firm ground. I pulled one leg out of the water, only to feel the other one dig in deeper. I pulled at my other leg, fighting the resistance of the sticky mud. I finally got it out, but by then the first one was completely stuck. I struggled to break free, but my feet wouldn't budge. Thank goodness I wasn't sinking any further, but I was up to my ankles in the mud, and completely locked in place.
And to add insult to injury, the ball was still just out of my reach. 'Well, sissy, that is another fine mess you got yourself into' I heard it say mockingly.
Annoyed, angry, I fought some more. “Oh shoot!” I cursed exasperated as I pulled at my legs. “Let go of me, you nasty puddle of goo!” I even tried to get out of my boots, but I couldn't get them off without any help. I really was stuck.
For a moment, I stood there silently. Then I did the only thing I could do.
“Help!” I shouted. “Miss Ingrit! Miss Brigitt! Help me!”
It was Brigitt who replied. “Cheryl? Where are you? Are you all right?”
“Miss Brigitt! I'm here, behind the trees. Help me, I'm stuck,” I called out to her.
I saw Brigitt run past the bushes and up to the edge of the puddle. She looked at me with concern. “What is the matter? What happened?”
I told her about my attempt to get my ball back. “And now I'm completely stuck. I cannot move my legs.” I pulled at my boots to emphasise my point.
Brigitt expression had gone from concern to amusement, a wide smirk on her face. “How do you always get yourself in these situations?” She asked wile suppressing a laugh.
“Miss Brigitt, this is not funny! I cannot get out!” I suddenly noticed that I was in full view of the hiking trail. If someone exited the forest, they would immediately see me standing here in my humiliating outfit. My heart skipped a beat at this realisation. “Miss Brigitt, please help me. Quickly,” I pleaded.
Brigitt smiled wickedly. “Yes, I'll help you. I’ve got just the thing. I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere,” she said as she double timed back towards the picnic place. Like I had a choice, I thought bitterly.
She came back holding a bag. “And to think I almost didn't bring this...” she said smiling.
Stepping into the puddle, her hiking shoes splashed as she came towards me, the practical soles finding traction where my silly boots had sank into the muck.
She walked up behind me. “One moment, Cheryl. Let me get this ready first...” I heard her fiddling with some buckles.
“Can't you just pull my arm?” I said confused as I turned my head around “I think I can get my feet out if I just...” the rest of the words got stuck in my throat.
Brigitt was putting on a strap-on. I saw the phallus point at me menacingly.
“Miss Brigitt?!” I called out alarmed.
“Shush now, sissy. Let's not wake Ingrid,” she spoke as she made a final adjustments to the strapon.
Aghast, pulled my legs, trying to get loose. Brigitt watched me in amusement. “Don't worry, Cheryl. We'll get you out in no-time. But first, let's get these out of the way...” She said as she raised my dress.
Her hand grabbed the elastic band of my panties, and pulled it down to my knees. Then her hand went to my plug.”
“Ingrid! Ingrid!” I shouted “Help! Helfmmm...!” One hand went over my mouth, smothering me.
“Let's not disturb my dear sister,” Brigitt said icily. “If you do, then I will take this soiled plug and put it in your mouth. Understand, girl? Nod if you do.”
What choice was there? I was certain this was no idle threat. With her hand still over my mouth, I nodded. She let go of me slowly. I kept silent.
“Good girl,” Brigitt said as she took hold of the plug. I groaned as she pulled, and I felt my sphincter resist. Then it came out, and I gasped. For a moment, I felt very relieved.
Brigitt put the plug in the now empty plastic bag and threw it to the side. She took position behind me, holding my neck and forcing me to lean forward, placing the tip of the penetrator against my rectum,
I looked in front of me, and saw the hiking path. I had a dreadful vision of strangers seeing me getting impaled by Brigitt.
“Miss Brigitt? Everyone can see us,” I said whimpering.
She sniggered. “Yes, exhilarating isn't it?” She began to apply pressure.
“But... the police? I mean.... Ingrid said....” I muttered.
Brigitt barked a short laugh. “Well, if we did get caught, we'd probably get arrested and dragged of to the police station and locked up. Of course, I would be placed in a jail cell with a couple of other women. That is, until a lawyer arrives and gets me out within an hour or so. I have five of those under speed dial.”
She pushed harder, and despite my resistance, I felt my rear opening up.
“You however... You'll be placed in a cell with guys that are all brawny and have hideous tattoos, called Claus and Tyrone. I wonder what they will do when they see you in your cute little dress. Perhaps they'll just beat you up. Perhaps they'll decide to pass you around and have a little fun with you. Or both. Either way, you'll be very sore when you finally get out.”
I felt myself turn pale from this prospect, but managed to keep squeezing my buttocks together.
I heard myself grunt as Brigitt and I fought our inverted tug-of-war. I had almost lost by then. “...Why are you doing this to me, Brigitt?” I managed to say under my breath.
She released the pressure a little bit. “Many reasons, Because you look so cute when you are helpless. Because you are so vulnerable right now” She shrugged. “But really, it is simply because I can. Watch...” And she suddenly pushed hard, sweeping away all resistance and entering me forcefully.
“Oof! Gah! Ooh!” I sputtered as I felt the dildo entered my behind. Then began the rocking motion, and the penetrator pulled out, then pushed in again.
Brigitt put one arm around me, pulling me tight against her while she moved her thighs around, moving the penetrator in unusual ways.
“Of course, there's no reason not to be generous every now and then...” Brigitt suddenly whispered in my ear. Her other hand reached under my dress and I felt fingers take hold of my clitty.
“Oh... Brigitt...” I stammered, confused.
“Now, where were we? Oh yes...” And to the rhythm of her rocking motions she began to rub my clitty.
And for a while, I only heard my indignant protests, splashing water, excited moans, the rustling of my dress, tense grunts, and an occasional loud snore of a fast asleep Ingrid.
Ingrid opened an eye when we arrived by at the picnic place. “What have you two been up to?” She asked exasperated.
I looked down at the red ball I was holding. “...Wanted to get my ball back...” I said shyly, but didn't elaborate.
“Well, I doubt that will happen anytime soon,” she said sarcastically as she sat upright. Watching my difficult gait, she immediately shot an annoyed frown at the smiling Brigitt, who answered with a shrug.
“Mein Gott.... Brigitt!” The younger sister said indignant.
“What?” She answered innocently.
“Really, you...” Ingrid shook her head sighing annoyed. “...Whatever. What time is it? ” She looked at her watch. “Oh, they could arrive any minute.”
I froze in place. “Er... Who is 'they', miss Ingrid?”
She smiled at me. “Oh, just some people. You'll love them.”
“But who...” I tried to say, but she interrupted me.
“Oh, hush now, Cheryl. You'll see. Besides, I think I can hear them.” She turned her hear towards the other side of the field.
I followed her gaze, unsure what she was looking at. Then I heard the humming of an engine in the distance, muffled by the forest. I noticed the dirt road that crossed the tree line onto the meadow.
The humming grew louder, and I saw birds fly up from the forest canopy when something below disturbed them. Finally I saw movement among the trees, and a car drove onto the meadow.
It was a SUV, jet black with opaque window panels. It bounced up and down as it ploughed through one deep puddle after another. Then it turned right and tore up the grass as the car sped towards us.
I heard Ingrid snort. “Is she afraid she'll get her shoes dirty?”
The car made a hard turn left, kicking up mud. I stopped just short of where I was standing, causing me to stagger backwards. The engine growled at me like a hungry animal. Then with a sputter it was silenced.
Anxiously, I was watching the car. I did not recognize it, and with its opaque windows I could not see who was in there. It looked like some hungry animal. For a moment nothing happened, then the door on the passenger side opened and a figure got out slowly.
“Daniëlle!?” I cried out.
She was standing right behind the car door, as if she was trying to hide herself. Her shy gaze altered between me and the ground. Her bright blush was unmistakable.
“Hi Cheryl, it's wonderful to see you again,” she said bashful. A sulk and a smile fought for control of her face.
“It's great to see you too!” I called out with more enthusiasm than I intended. Daniëlle shot me a surprised glance, then smiled shyly as she fiddled with a lock of hair. She turned even redder, and I felt my cheeks light up as well.
I ignored a sudden feeling of confusion “Er... What... Ahem... What are you doing here?” I asked.
Still hiding behind the car door, with only her white sun hat and shoes visible, she spoke. “Aunt Margot heard you were having a picnic, and she insisted...”
“Oh, come now Daniëlle,” I heard a very familiar voice say, causing me to freeze. “You said you wanted to see Cheryl again, didn't you? Well, there she is. Now, go over to her and give her a nice kiss. Show her your pretty dress.”
“Yes aunt,” Daniëlle said reluctantly. She didn't move, though.
The door at the driver's side opened, and Mistress Margot got out. “Well, hello there, Cheryl,” she said with a satisfied smile.
She looked me up and down. “Aren't you a pretty sight. I just love that dress. Shows off your best assets,” she said with a playful wink. Then her tone became stern, but she kept smiling nonetheless. “But it seems you got mud on it, you naughty girl. You're lucky you are not under my care right now. No sissy of mine would spoil an outfit like that. But I guess that's what you get when you leave two slackers in charge.” She nodded at Ingrid and Brigitt, who sniggered at the playful insult.
I stammered an anxious 'I'm sorry, mistress Margot', hoping I wasn't digging myself in deeper.
Satisfied with my obvious fear of her, she shot me a content smile. “It's okay, Cheryl. It's not your fault. Besides, those spots make you look playful.” she winked at me. “Which is rather cute.”
I had bobbed a curtsey before I even realized it, smiling a blissfully ignorant smile but feeling shivers run down my spine. “Thank you, Mistress Margot... Er... May I say that you look beautiful as ever?”
I didn't understand her choice in outfit. She was wearing something that looked remarkably old-fashioned. It consisted of a long pink skirt and tight red jacket with white Peter Pan collar. Her tall hat balanced precariously on her head, probably kept in place with a lot of pins. Still it did look very classy. I also recognised it from somewhere.
She grinned widely as she closed the door. “Oh, you are such a tease. But I never get tired of your compliments. One moment...” She said as she walked around the front of the car. Without a further word she grabbed Daniëlle's arm, pulled her away from the passenger's door and slammed it shut.
Daniëlle struggled to keep up as her aunt dragged her towards me. Now that I could get a good look of her outfit, I noticed it was old-fashioned too. And very childish. She was wearing a bright white sleeveless blouse and flaring skirt with a pink band around the hips. On her head she wore a sun hat that shaded her from the increasingly bright sun. Her feet were strapped into white mary-janes with a wedge heel modest enough for me to envy her. Her lacy ankle socks completed the ensemble.
As Daniëlle and Mistress Margot approached me, I suddenly realized the pair looked exactly like the two central characters at the centre of that famous painting, A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte. Only the parasol was missing.
Miss Rosenberg halted, pushing her niece forward. It caused the startled girl to stumble and almost bump into me. I heard the two sisters behind me snigger, but I didn't see the humour in Daniëlle's predicament.
The girl regained her composure (as much as was possible for a sissy) and straightened her skirt.
She noticed me looking at her outfit. “My aunt picked this for me,” she said with an apologetic. The quiver in her voice betrayed that she hated her girlish outfit, but there was little resistance in her voice.
“I think it is very beautiful. Don't you think so too, Cheryl?” the sissy added, her voice sounding a bit less frail. It was like my presence gave her some confidence.
“I do. It looks almost as wonderful as you,” I told her. Her eyes went wide in surprise. Wait... What did I just say?
“Er... I mean... It's a proper dress for a proper young lady,” I quickly added.
Well, it was a lot more proper than the atrocity I was wearing, anyway.
I saw that Daniëlle was blushing again, but her smile seemed genuine. “...That's very sweet, Cheryl. Means a lot to me...”
“Say 'thank you', Daniëlle,” Mistress Margot interjected.
“Yes aunt,” Daniëlle replied. But she didn't anything else. She just looked at me, a light in her eyes I hadn't seen before. It gave me a warm feeling inside.
She closed her eyes, puckered her lips and leaned in.
That startled me, but I did not turn my head. That surprised her in turn. Surprised myself even more. But neither of us pulled back.
Just putting up a good show for Mistress Margot, I rationalised.
I closed my eyes as our lips touched. Mouths opening simultaneously, our tongues slowly touched.
“I told you you'd love our visitors,” Ingrid said with a snigger, her voice like nails on a blackboard. Her mocking felt like a bucket of cold water being poured out over me. I immediately pulled back in dismay, leaving Daniëlle standing there confused.
She bobbed me a clumsy curtsey, and I followed her hopeless example. It made our chaperones chuckle. They turned to one another.
“Welcome Margot. Glad you could find it. But it seems you are a bit overdressed,” Ingrid said as she greeted Mistress warmly. ”It's just a picnic. Jeans and coat would have sufficed.”
“Oh, pish posh. A lady of my position doesn't wear jeans in public. You would know that if you would pay your poor mother any heed. I will always wonder how a proper lady like her could have raised such tomboys,” she replied jokingly.
She turned to me, a reproachful look on her face. “You two even spoilt sweet little Cheryl here, letting her get dirty like that. Like she's some rowdy boy,” she looked at the numerous muddy spots and smudges on my outfit.
Brigitt laughed. “Hah! Cheryl is all girly-girl. Noting boyish about her. But I agree she's quite the dirty girl. I can vouch for that. Isn't that right, sissy?” She gave me a wicked wink.
My petticoats rustled as in response, and I managed to uttered a joyful affirmation. “Oh yes, miss Brigitt. I'm a dirty girl. Teehee.” Daniëlle gave me a compassionate look.
“Oh, stop confusing the poor sissy, Brigitt,” Miss Rosenberg said. “This is supposed to be a relaxing picnic, right? Now then, may Daniëlle and I join you?”
“Of course, Margot. Go right ahead.” Ingrid opened the basket “Are you hungry? We can offer you some sandwiches.”
Mistress Margot smiled as she shook her head. “Sandwiches? What are we, Spartans? You girls really don't know how to throw a proper picnic, do you? Luckily, I expected as much, so I took the liberty of bringing some more food.”
She walked towards the back of the car and opened the boot. It was stuffed with coolboxes and bags. I could smell the scent of freshly baked bread.
Mistress Margot looked at the two sisters. “Would you girls be so kind as to get it out? It's a bit heavy. And a lady of my...”
“A lady of your position doesn't do heavy lifting. Yeah, we get it.” Ingrid said exasperated as they walked towards the car.
“I was going to say 'age', but that works too.”
With Miss Margot's contribution, the simple picnic turned into an impromptu feast. There was cheese, fruit, cake, even a bottle of wine. It made me regret having eaten all those sandwiches, but fortunately I still had some room left for those delicious strawberry tarts.
With everyone's attention directed at the food, the atmosphere was pretty relaxed. Everyone was chatting and enjoying the picnic. Even Daniëlle seemed happy as she loaded up on sweets that gravely violated her diet.
Eventually the women began to discuss more serious matters, business I assumed, and Ingrid shooed Daniëlle and me away. “We need to talk about boring stuff. No need for you two to stick around. You just go amuse yourself.”
“Amuse ourselves?” Daniëlle asked. “What do you mean by...” I interrupted her by talking her hand and pulling her with me.
“Don't forget your ball, girls,” Brigitt said as she lobbed it at me. This time I actually caught it.
We were still holding hands as we minced across the field. I don't think it was necessary, as the three women didn't seem to be paying attention to us, but better to be safe. Besides, it felt rather comforting.
Daniëlle seemed lost in deep thought, gaze directed at the ground. Occasionally her eyes shot around, as if she feared someone saw her in her girlish outfit.
I couldn't blame her. I was trapped in drag with her. In public. And it still horrified me. I hadn't seen any strangers since that encounter a few hours ago, but I still saw eyes behind every tree and bush. The only remedy was trying not to think about it.
I gave a soft squeeze in her hand. “Are you okay, Daniëlle?”
She looked up, and I saw a blush on her face. “...Yes.” She answered unconvincingly.
I stopped turned towards her. “Are you sure, Daniëlle?”
There was no response, she just kept looking down.
“Daniel?” I asked concerned.
She looked up in surprise. A hard look in her eyes.
“Daniëlle,” she said sharply. “Let's not kid ourselves. I'm Daniëlle. You are Cheryl. We are sissies. That's what we'll be for the rest of our lives and there is nothing we can do to change that.”
Her eyes didn't match her words, as defiance radiated from them. Then the light went out and I saw only resignation.
“Better just to accept that,” she added with a sigh.
“Do you?” I asked sceptically.
A weak smile appeared on her face. “I do. It's just hard to finally realise that your place in the world is not what you'd expected it to be.”
I felt a sharp pang of guilt. Daniëlle had fought her feminization for a long time. And now, mere weeks after meeting me, she had finally given up. Her aunt had won.
I felt her squeeze in my hand. “Thank you,” she said.
“For what?” I asked surprised.
“For being here with me,” She told me with a soft smile “I know this is even harder on you, but I don't think I could do this without you.”
Lost for words, I just stood there. Suddenly, Daniëlle leaned forward and give me a soft kiss on the cheek.
I felt I was blushing furiously, stammering a 'you're welcome' as I touched the spot she had just kissed me. Daniëlle gave me a cute smile, and I smiled back warmly.
We walked on, still holding hands. Daniëlle seemed a lot less dejected, which I felt very thankful for.
“My aunt is going to drop a bombshell. I'm sure of it,” Daniëlle suddenly said.
“She has been planning something. It involves the both of us,” she explained. “It's no coincidence she insisted on getting us together. And whatever it is, it is going to happen soon, or else she wouldn't have driven out it the middle of nowhere.”
She turned her head to me. “Christina is probably involved as well. Have you heard anything about what they are planning? Anything at all?”
I instantly recalled what Martina had told me. About Daniëlle's forced marriage. And how we were both being sent to sissy-school.
My mouth went open. I wanted to tell Daniëlle everything. Warn her about what was in store for her. For both of us.
“...No,” I said.
Daniëlle nodded. “Well, I guess we'll find out soon enough anyway.”
For a moment we stood in silence. Daniëlle was staring into the distance. I felt I had to say something, break the awkward silence.
“...Want to play with my ball?” I said out of the blue.
Daniëlle turned at me in confusion. “Wait... What?”
I held out the bright red ball. “Play ball. Kick it around a bit.”
She looked at me in utter bafflement. “Are you serious?”
I shrugged. “Got a better idea?”
I dropped the ball in front of me, letting go of Daniëlle's hand.
Daniëlle looked as if I just had sprouted feathers, her mouth wide open.
I kicked the ball towards her. “Go on. Kick it back.”
“What? No!” she replied indignant.
“Why not? I thought you Europeans liked soccer?” I said teasingly.
That was right on the mark. Daniëlle frowned at me. “That's football, you dumb sissy!”
“Who are you calling sissy, sissy?” I replied mockingly. I kicked the ball with my boot, which rolled right between Daniëlle's legs.
“Hah! Score!” I cried with a wide smile.
“That doesn't count!” Daniëlle replied angrily. “I wasn't ready.”
I scampered part her, chasing the ball. “Don't get your panties in a twist. You couldn't beat me even if you were.” I called out.
I barked a wicked laugh. “Yeah!”
“All right, you're on!” Now Daniëlle got moving too, and she immediately caught up. She stuck her tongue out as she passed me by.
“Not fair!” I cried. “Your heels are lower than mine!”
“Tough luck. You snooze, you lose,” she said with a grin, reaching the ball first. “Now, let me show you how its done, girly-girl.”
She kicked the plastic ball, and almost lost her balance, the ball rolling nowhere near the intended direction.
“Whoops. Mind that balance, sissy.” I said laughing as I chased the ball. “Need some two inch heels to practice?”
She found her equilibrium again.“Oh, put a plug in it, Cheryl. You can use the one in your behind,” Daniëlle called back mockingly as she followed me.
She was just about to overtake me. “Watch the mud. Don't get any spots on those pretty white shoes!” I shouted.
“Oh, golly!” Daniëlle cried as she veered off right, avoiding the puddle I simply minced right through in my water-tight boots.
Now I reached the ball first, and I gave it a mighty kick. The result was even more hopeless than Daniëlle's attempt. And again we tried to beat one another to the ball and repeat the process.
As we continued playing our game, I was vaguely aware that the three women had interrupted their discussion and started to cheer us on.
“Come on, Cheryl. You can do it, girl! Give it a good kick.”
“Oh! So close. Go get it, sissy! Try again.”
“Go Daniëlle! Show her how it's done! Yay, team Rosenberg!”
There were no formal rules, obviously. But stealing the ball of your opponent was a point, I think. As was hitting a tree with a long ball. Looking extra cute was double points, apparently. It didn't matter though. No-one was keeping score.
It was just good to see Daniëlle laugh.
The bombshell was dropped a few hours later, when the sun was slowly edging towards the horizon. Mistress Christina arrived, accompanied by Martina and Madame Directrice. The latter seemed rather unhappy with being out in the country, loudly complaining about dirt on her expensive shoes.
Martina had brought a barbecue set and a selection of meat and fish. And so our picnic evolved into a full scale barbecue.
After diner, Mistress Christina told us about the reason of this little outdoors party. Daniëlle and I had been accepted into Baroness Von Wytenbach's Finishing School for Young Ladies of all Genders. We would go there the very next day. Daniëlle sighed in resignation. I uttered a suitably surprised squeal.
The party ended with a group photo. Madame Directrice held the camera. “Jägers left, Rosenbergs right.” She said. Mistress Margot sat down on a folding chair. Mistress Christina selected the one next to miss Rosenberg. Her daughters took up positions behind her.
I wanted to join Mistress Christina, but Mistress Margot grabbed me and pulled me on her lap. “You come sit with me, my dear. Daniëlle? You join Christina.”
She wrapped her arm around me possessively, pulling me against her. A hand went under my skirt and into my panties. I tried not to notice.
“Say 'cheese', everyone,” Madame Directrice called. “Come on, Daniëlle. Show me a pretty smile. You too, Cheryl. Show some leg. That's good. Hold it...”
And with a click and a flash it was done. Only then did I realize Daniëlle and I were holding hands.