tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64441803815014782702024-03-15T17:00:40.405-07:00Bea's TV StationA place to collect the thoughts and experiences of heterosexual male cross dressers and transvestites. I try not to be judgemental - hell I was forty-something before I liked myself. I WILL plug the page where I have books to sell - but there are 'freebies' there as well so money isn't a big deal.
I'm ancient - so have many years behind me. With any luck I've learned some sense about myself and the subject of transvestism. Have no problem in learning more. Want to, as a matter of fact.Bea's TV Stationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18140517314106768037noreply@blogger.comBlogger394125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-19046481897711297392024-02-24T19:32:00.000-08:002024-02-25T16:00:45.909-08:00Some Problematic Art<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbn6CoI7T6v8owhmu0EHJIAvGMhg-Z_6jTWq0kpRhKxSzZYqpcA6eBf1Fgums6DHaROZCJTqhCBJlMLCdeYBzRrV5Wc-gGFF6AycEdFUee6mA671-MfM0JoIV2sV2Yj0-yK99hSo9Vp6RYXi9SP0lH4Y93kkAzyTCsaXMuFeAFPXRh_wNxTemGUE3jwtRe/s4900/Don't%20Ride%20With%20Strangers%20redux.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2544" data-original-width="4900" height="333" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbn6CoI7T6v8owhmu0EHJIAvGMhg-Z_6jTWq0kpRhKxSzZYqpcA6eBf1Fgums6DHaROZCJTqhCBJlMLCdeYBzRrV5Wc-gGFF6AycEdFUee6mA671-MfM0JoIV2sV2Yj0-yK99hSo9Vp6RYXi9SP0lH4Y93kkAzyTCsaXMuFeAFPXRh_wNxTemGUE3jwtRe/w640-h333/Don't%20Ride%20With%20Strangers%20redux.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>This sequence, which I titled "Don't Ride with Strangers," is a remake/reimagining of a much older piece of mine by the same name. It was the most recent feminization piece I posted to deviantART, but I took it down it a few months after the fact because I feared that someone in charge might have taken issue with the age of the guy in it or might do so in the future, even though as a cartoon drawing, I don't think anyone could definitively pinpoint whatever his age is supposed to be. Ironically, part of the reason I decided to redo that earlier piece is because, aside from thinking I could do a better job now, I was concerned that I'd given the guy in it a much too youthful appearance the first time around and wanted to make him older, but due to some complications, I thought there was a chance he might still not look old enough for someone's liking.</p><div>I <a href="ttps://www.deviantart.com/rocketxpert/journal/I-m-back-apparently-983012025." target="_blank">wrote about this at length on dA</a>, but I'll try to give a more concise account of events here.</div><div>In September of last year, I received a notification from deviantART informing me that the account I'd created for my fetishistic work had been suspended and was in imminent danger of being deleted unless I removed certain artwork that was supposedly in violation of that site's guidelines. Frustratingly, when I pressed for clarification, I received an unhelpful form reply stating that they were unable to cite specific examples, forcing me to guess which images had landed me in hot water. <br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Although this situation was annoying, I can't pretend like I had absolutely no clue as to which pictures of mine had potentially been deemed objectionable. I've done a number of femdom drawings of young male teens being feminized and/or spanked, etc. This kind of thing is not uncommon in petticoating art and the like, and while I personally see it as relatively harmless, I can understand why some people might have a problem with it.</div><div><br /></div><div><div>Honestly, I think pretty much all my erotic fantasies have problematic elements. While it's obviously important that anything sexual in nature in the real world be done between consenting adults, I can't remember the last time I experienced arousal by fantasizing about something totally "vanilla" or doing something entirely voluntarily, which is why nonconsensual femdom and forced feminization appeal to me. <br /></div><div><br /></div></div><div>When I first started exploring erotica on the internet, some of the earliest femdom stories that resonated with me were ones in which the male protagonists were not yet full-grown adults. For one thing, at the time, I was much closer to the ages of those characters, but even now, I feel like I relate more to characters who are more immature, naive and inexperienced. I just find it more exciting when someone like that is thrust into a sexy situation. Also, from a logical perspective, when the activities in question are nonconsensual in some way, if the protagonist isn't yet an independent adult, it provides a handy explanation as to why he simply doesn't walk away.</div><div><br /></div><div>One of my favorite stories by Bea may be "Maid Machiavelli," which is about the secret relationship between a guy and his stepmother's dominant maid, who the narration states has been sexually controlling him since at least the time he had hit puberty. The word "groomer" gets bandied about way too loosely nowadays by bigoted conservatives, but if we were to apply real world standards, what occurs in that story is textbook grooming. In reality, that maid would absolutely deserve to go to jail. Still, I can't help finding it hot... as fiction, that is. Then there's Bea's longer story "Aunt Fanny's Girls," in which the protagonist ends up in a sexual relationship with his high school guidance counselor. There are possibly other examples that aren't coming to mind now. Since I can differentiate between fantasy and reality and have no problem saying that there's certain content that I enjoy in stories that I would condemn in real life, I don't feel an excessive amount of guilt over what turns me on, especially since I don't fantasize about hurting anyone, but rather imagine being the submissive/victim in any given scenario.</div><div><br /></div><div>That said, I do have qualms over the rare stories Bea wrote in which he inserted female characters who were uncomfortably young. The reason I don't have an issue with femdom art or stories with male characters who haven't yet reached adulthood is because I believe the purpose of such characters is usually to essentially serve a surrogate for the author/artist and the male fans of such work. On the other hand, if the author/artist is involving female characters who are on the overly young side in their work, I'm afraid it does make me wonder a little about them. Sorry, Bea.</div><div><br /></div><div>After I thought I'd sorted everything out with deviantART and my account had been reinstated, I received another notification a few days later letting me know that a moderator had deleted an installment of an incomplete feminization comic of mine. They claimed that the male character in it was under eighteen. What made that decision so baffling was that, not only was there no visible nudity, sex or even touching of any sort in it, I hadn't even intended the male to be below under eighteen in that case. It seems that someone simply saw that he was shorter than the female character and automatically declared him to be underage, which is utterly absurd, but I had no way to prove what my intentions were. I think taller women are sexy; so sue me. I may need to put a disclaimer in all my art from now on that all the imaginary participants are above the age of consent... assuming I ever find the necessary drive to get back into drawing. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLlhNBCOc7PaNJkFvlh962-LDv8pXZ0XHHIP3zDfcIyb4dPmi6MQJ7mjWjiCDwXTxXzLVPHyMYmQSqpoqTTjnq9vThg3b8PBJ-R2mc56YjVA2ISJtsjH5BG6K8TrEH1WqqLeUza3FRREWILIWwCCXjiiPMHlINCt8iANYYHr4sLZc2EpCZkmLg2pZxVyfs/s2064/thepinkness-2_edited-1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The pic in question" border="0" data-original-height="2064" data-original-width="1056" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLlhNBCOc7PaNJkFvlh962-LDv8pXZ0XHHIP3zDfcIyb4dPmi6MQJ7mjWjiCDwXTxXzLVPHyMYmQSqpoqTTjnq9vThg3b8PBJ-R2mc56YjVA2ISJtsjH5BG6K8TrEH1WqqLeUza3FRREWILIWwCCXjiiPMHlINCt8iANYYHr4sLZc2EpCZkmLg2pZxVyfs/w328-h640/thepinkness-2_edited-1.jpg" width="328" /></a></div><br /><div><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;" /></div>rocketdavehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00574717380856957685noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-79202317988042348852023-08-20T09:20:00.000-07:002023-08-20T09:20:31.857-07:00The Bridal Replacement Hypothesis - Short story with illustration<p> </p><p>Haven't contributed anything to this blog in a long time, Bea would not be impressed.</p><p>Below is a story (with illustration) posted elsewhere, so some readers may have read it, for those who haven't hopefully you will enjoy it.</p><p>Take care </p><p>Carrie</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a name="_GoBack"></a><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: yellow; font-family: "Kunstler Script"; font-size: 36.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The Bridal
Replacement Hypothesis</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: yellow; font-family: "Kunstler Script";"> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: yellow; font-family: "Kunstler Script"; font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 115%;">by<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: yellow; font-family: "Kunstler Script"; font-size: 28.0pt; line-height: 115%;">CarrieP<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“This is a most unfortunate turn of
events.” Caroline’s mother sighed wearily, unable to disguise her annoyance.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">William, always anxious when his future
mother-in-law became vexed, was somewhat relieved that at least this<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> </b>time <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">he</b> would not be the subject of her ire. Nevertheless, he did feel a
slight nervousness in the pit of his stomach and as there were no pockets in
his fitted jacket he felt his trembling fingers reach for the pure silk
shantung of his pressed pleat trousers. He hated this outfit but at least it
could, albeit at a stretch, be considered an almost manly shade of deep coral, unlike
the pale lavender palazzo pants he had to wear yesterday.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Yes most unfortunate, Mother.”Caroline repeated
in a grave voice “You were quite specific about my dress size; these gowns are
far too small for me. I could not possibly try them on. How very…
disappointing.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>William regarded his fiancée with a look of
incredulidity and was about to say something but a stern look, perceptible to
no one but him dissuaded him from uttering a word. He was acutely aware of
Caroline’s abhorrence of all things inordinately feminine, frills and flounces
were looked upon with scorn, silks and satins rarely tolerated and when they
were, would take the form of a mannish shirt or a plain top. Her reluctance to
conform to her mother’s view of femininity was a constant source of friction
between them and William, much to his discomfort, was usually caught in the
middle. However, once the young man was safely ensconced in their palatial home
Caroline’s mother seemed to be drawn to her future son-in law, fussing and fawning
over him as if he was a favourite pet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>With this new distraction in her life she seemed less inclined to badger
her daughter about her decidedly unfeminine sartorial choices. Naturally this suited
Caroline perfectly as she had more important things to think about than
fulfilling her mother’s ideal version of the ideal and dutiful daughter. For
his part William considered her mother’s attentiveness as merely a passing
enthusiasm as the newest addition to the household and believed that once she
had gotten used to a masculine presence in the house her attention would again
revert to Caroline.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Unfortunately for William, it did not work
out the way he expected, she seemed to become more attached to him and as the
weeks passed he was pulled inexorably into her orbit. Despite the cavernous
size of the house he was unable to escape her constant attentions and had
almost by default become her companion. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Of course he had complained to Caroline, on
the infrequent occasions when she was present in the house, but she had only to
smile at him and he would have done anything she wished. After all she had
chosen him when she could have had her pick of any man. Remarkable as this was,
what amazed him even more was that she had never baulked at his dreadful, embarrassing
secret. In fact, she said it drew them even closer. He often wished he could be
more forceful and insist she inform her mother that he should, at the very
least, be allowed choose his own clothes. Well… at least twice a week…if, of
course, that would be agreeable with her mother. But she always managed to
either distract him with her charming smile or chide him in a severe tone
depending on how thin her patience with him was. Either way, he never found the
courage to deny her mother’s requests, no matter how demeaning.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Now in this alien environment of an
exclusive bridal boutique, Caroline’s austere look was quickly followed by her
disarming smile and once more he was both relieved and confused in equal
measure but it had the desired effect and his heart fluttered like a love
struck Romeo gazing at his Juliet. Unfortunately, the moment did not last very
long.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">D<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">o </i></b>stop fidgeting William.” Caroline’s
mother said brusquely, snapping him back to reality.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Oh Martha, leave the poor boy alone.” Mrs
Fitzmaurice, her friend, intervened and slid a reassuring arm around his shoulder.
“It’s understandable that a young man would be slightly uneasy in these
surroundings.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Yes, Martha .” agreed Mrs Cavandish,
another companion, as she<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>moved <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to his side in a show of support and caressing
his cheek in a most affectionate manner.“You are far too hard on William.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Don’t you worry, William.” Mrs Claybourne,
yet another friend joined the conversation in his defence, taking his hand and
stroking it she added with a light laugh “We are here to protect you.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">William grateful for their support and
protection smiled appreciatively and lowered his eyes respectfully, a gesture
he had only recently come to learn was greatly cherished by these and the <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>other society matrons in his future
mother-in-law’s circle. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For all his
faults- and he had many- he was a quick learner<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>and had <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>adopted this pose on a
regular basis and although he knew it made him seem more docile it was a price
he was willing to pay to avoid Caroline’s mother displeasure. He was aware that
if she fell into a foul humour he would bear the brunt of her exasperation for
days. With no guarantee that his fiancé would be around to protect him he would
have to rely on these ladies to provide a bulwark against her domineering
mother. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course it was degrading for a
man to seek sanctuary in the company of these middle-aged ladies but in the
weeks that he had entered their home his timidity had become so ingrained he
felt he had no other option.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“I can see there is no need for me to come
to your aid, darling.” Caroline laughed lightly as her mother stubbornly
continued to frown. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">However, his practiced display of
demureness and deference could soften even the most austere and demanding of
female hearts and Caroline’s mother was no exception.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Well,
perhaps I may have been a little tetchy.” she conceded begrudgingly but her
face began to soften, “But this is a most annoying development. I was assured
by Madame Margot that she would have Caroline’s exact size. We cannot decide on
her bridal gown by just looking at it on a rack or hanger.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“I am so sorry Lady Congrove.” A deeply
apologetic voice called from across the room as Madame Margot entered closely
followed by an assistant.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“This is most embarrassing.” Madame Margot proffered
her apologies and added a curtsy for good measure.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">By now William had retreated to a place of
safety and tried to blend in with the rails of bridal gowns but the hue of his
deep coral pantsuit made that difficult, thankfully all eyes were on the two
women. He observed Madame Margot take the impact of Caroline’s mother anger and
although empathising with the unfortunate dressmaker he was greatly relieved
that for once it was not him that was the subject of her wrath. Madame Margot
was suggesting several other styles that would be similar but Caroline‘s mother
annoyance was inextinguishable and she continued to upbraid the misfortunate
woman.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Have one of your assistants model them for
us.” Caroline’s mother finally demanded.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“I had thought of that your ladyship.”
Madame Margot replied sheepishly and took a step back before continuing “But
unfortunately none of my girls are the same dress size.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">A grave silence fell on the room as
Caroline’s mother’s face took on a dark expression.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Perhaps…” the voice of Madame Margot’s
assistant nervously broke the stillness, drawing the attention of both women
“Perhaps that young lady over there would oblige us. She appears to be just the
right size.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Every pair of eyes in the room turned on
the figure in the deep coral pantsuit and after a few moments the air was
filled with the sound of female giggling. Even Caroline’s mother was not immune
and joined in as William’s face turned crimson.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Preposterous!” she exclaimed “That’s not a
girl that is my darling William, my future son-in-law. Although now that you
say it, he does have the delicate features associated with our sex.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“You silly girl.” Madame Margot scolded her
assistant “I am so sorry for this girl’s idiocy, Lady Congreve. ”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">The laughter petered out and a strange hush
fell on the room as every woman present mentally measured William.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“No… wait…perhaps the girl is right.” Mrs Cavandish
said as all the women, now with curious expressions on their faces, slowly
advanced on the young man.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“He does have a certain …”Mrs Claybourne
mused out loud.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Girlish charm.” Mrs Fitzmaurice added
helpfully.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Exactly.” her friend replied as she
repeated, “Girlish charm.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">William winced but before he could protest
the assistant had her tape measure around his waist and Madame Margot was
running her eyes over his body mentally calculating the young man’s contours.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Yes, yes I think it would work.” she said.
“Not perfect of course, your ladyship. But good enough to model all the gowns.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Gowns!</i></b>” William repeated
“You…cannot…” </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">The women now excited by this strange idea
babbled frantically to each other, drowning out his protests.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“The bosom, Madame.” Her assistant said a
little tentatively “We could use some foam or similar material.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">It took William a few moments to realise
the women considered this ridiculous idea to be a serious proposition and he
decided to move towards the door, however in those few seconds of hesitation he
had become surrounded by every female in the room and now had no means of
escape. His eyes searched for Caroline but saw she was in conversation with her
mother and Madame Margot.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“What a splendid idea.” Mrs Fitzmaurice
chirped and beaming at him added, “You would be doing us all a great service
and ensure we have not wasted our time coming here today.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Yes wonderful.” Mrs Claybourne agreed “It
would be a shame to leave without seeing these beautiful gowns modelled.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Please…ladies…I must…I can’t…please…” an
incoherent stream left his mouth as panic rose up from within.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">He barely noticed his feet touch the floor as
the two women, followed by the rest of the entourage, steered him across the
room towards a pair of large double doors with the nameplate Dressing Room 1.
He continued to object but his pleadings were lost in their chatter.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">As the door closed behind him he gasped
audibly as his eyes darted about the large room, bridal gowns and accessories
appeared to occupy every available space, some on rails, some laid carefully
over chairs, others on mannequins, shoes stacked neatly on metal frames.
William felt his knees tremble at the sight and looked towards the door for a
chance to escape but he saw Madame Margot turn a key in the lock. He now knew
he was well and truly trapped with no means of liberation. His head fogged and
his body becoming strangely detached from his brain by this dreadful turn of
events, he was only vaguely aware of instructions being issued and hands moving
deftly and quickly over his body. It took him several seconds to realise his
top had been removed.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“What is this for?” Mrs Cavandish asked
pointing to the wide bandaging around William’s chest.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“N…no…please Caroline…not here…”William blurted
pleading with his fiancée who was now by his side and reassuringly holding his
hand.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Caroline stepped closer and kissed him on
the cheek.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“It’s quite all right darling.” she
reassured him quietly unfolding the tightly bound fabric.”You are among friends
no one will judge you here.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“William has a regrettable condition for a
male ladies.” her mother explained to the women looking on with wide-eyed
curiosity as Caroline completed her task and a modest yet <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>fully formed female bosom revealed itself on
William’s chest.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">The spectacle was greeted by gasps followed
quickly by admiring exclamations.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“May we…would he mind…” Mrs Fitzmaurice
asked, clearly perplexed by the unveiling of William’s perfectly formed
feminine bust.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Instinctively, William raised his hands to
shield his protruding mounds which instantly drew a strong rebuke from his
future mother-in-law.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">William.</i></b>” she snapped in a manner
that he knew and dreaded. “Did I give you permission to cover your bosom?
Please do not be rude to the ladies.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">He reluctantly but quickly obeyed and
dropped his hands.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“That’s better. This day is stressful
enough without your display of girlish modesty.” she chided him but in a
gentler voice and gestured to her friends to inspect the protruding glands. “You
should be proud of your beautiful breasts now let the ladies examine them.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">There was no need for a second invitation
and immediately William felt hands cupping his shameful secret.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Remarkable.” Mrs Claybourne said as she
held both breasts in her hands as William wished the ground would somehow open
and he could slip quietly away. The other woman smiled as she added, “Just like
a girl’s, so pert and firm.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">It was bad enough that Caroline had told
her mother of his mortifying condition, who in turn had informed Jenny, her
lady’s maid. The girl, when Caroline or her mother was unavailable, was now tasked
with binding the hideous things in the wide stretch fabric every morning and
removing it in the evenings. As he quickly discovered it was also obvious, from
their furtive glances at his chest, the housemaids now also appeared to be aware
of his embarrassing secret. But he had little time to dwell on that now. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Mrs Fitzmaurice edged her friend aside and
a different pair of hands now fondled him. A deep shame was etched on his face
and it did not go unnoticed.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“No need to be embarrassed William.“ she
said in a sympathetic voice “Two of my maids are at least a size smaller.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“I’m sure you would like to have them
covered, darling.” Caroline asked, coming to his rescue with Madame Margot in
tow.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Yes…yes…”he blurted and continued a little
louder than he had intended “I have to get out of here.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB">“William! </span></i></b><span lang="EN-GB">You know you
cannot disappoint the ladies.” his fiancée replied sternly as she gestured to
the eager female faces, her tone almost indistinguishable from her mother’s and
making abundantly clear to everyone in the room<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>that she would brook no dissent. “But first we need to cover those
breasts of yours. That <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">is</i></b> what you want, isn’t it.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">The words could not leave his mouth, he
could only nod his agreement and swallowed hard as his saw Madame Margot pick
up a box and open it.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">He gasped as he saw her hand the item to
Caroline’s mother and felt a queasy sensation begin to form in his stomach.
Unable to face the humiliation he closed his eyes and felt unseen hands slip
the brassiere up his arms. A silence fell on the room he could hear the
laboured breathing of every woman present. He felt a single tear roll down his
cheek.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“It’s only fitting that Mother puts you into
your first brassiere.” Caroline voice whispered in his ear and he felt the cool
elastic stretch under his arms and across his back. There was a noticeable
tugging as her fingers nimbly fitted the hooks into the corresponding eyes. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Another tear escaped from his firmly closed
eyes and made its way down his cheek as he now felt her hands slip inside the
brassiere and settle his breasts in the cups, he felt her warm breath on his
neck as she adjusted the shoulder straps. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“No need to be upset, darling.” Caroline’s
mother said affectionately as she felt his breasts through the brassiere’s lace
and satin cups, “It’s not as if this is the first time others have seen your
bosom. You are among friends and family. Now dry your eyes, like a good girl.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“As you can see ladies,” Madame Margot addressed
the women who were clearly fascinated by the young man before them, she placed
her hand under his left breast “This particular brassiere has the effect of
pushing up and enhancing the bosom.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">He slowly opened his eyes and despite the
deep shame and distress engulfing him the smiling, empathic and encouraging
faces of the ladies present offered him a small degree of calm. However this
was short lived as he now saw Madame Margot and her assistant busying
themselves arranging various voluminous gowns on the chairs and sofas
throughout the large room. His anxiety quickly resurfaced.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-GB">Nooooo…</span></i></b><span lang="EN-GB"> a silent
scream roared inside his head, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">oh
no…please…no…<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">He had been so overwhelmed by the events of
the last few minutes that he had not noticed his pants were now around his
ankles and his legs were being lifted one at a time as the last vestige of his
male, albeit nominal, male clothing was removed. It was only the ladies excited
voices that snapped him back into the moment.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Oh Martha!” Mrs Claybourne gasped as she
walked behind to inspect him “You have put him into a girdle.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">He had become so used to wearing these
hideous, repulsive feminine foundations that he had almost forgotten he was
wearing the dreadful<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>garment.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">He felt a hand on the heavy satin at his
rear and he shivered as Mrs Fitzmaurice ran her hand down the corresponding
satin panel at his front, letting it linger between his legs for a moment that
felt like an hour.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“And stockings!” Mrs Cavandish exclaimed as
she fingered the garters holding up the sheer hosiery.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">To his consternation, the other ladies made
a similar inspection and from the corner of his eye he could see the smirks on
Madame Margot and her assistant.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">He felt tears of abject humiliation welling
up once more.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“As we girls know only too well,” Caroline’s
mother addressed her friends in a matter-of-fact tone, as she tugged at the
girdle’s wide heavy elastic waistband pulling it up an inch <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“males have very little control over their
base desires<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and have a ghastly tendency
to become excited when in the presence of our sex. Docile as William is, he is
still a male and a prisoner of these disgusting cravings. Like all of you, my
household is staffed exclusively by female servants and it would be most
inappropriate if he surrendered to his male lust and such an objectionable
display was witnessed by my housemaids. As you can see the girdle is quite effective
in ensuring the male organ is kept under complete control.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Quite right Martha.” Mrs Claybourne agreed
“And as we can see he is nice and smooth , just like a girl. No dreadful male
bulge.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“A good firm girdle keeps our bodies under
control.” Mrs Fitzmaurice said approvingly “Why should it be any different for
a male, although we never considered such a delicate soul as William to be
associated with that appalling and beastly sex.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Yes, he is such a sweet, adorable creature.”
Mrs Cavandish concurred, adding her reassurance ”And no need to feel
embarrassed William I am wearing the very same style. A little constricting
perhaps but my figure is all the better for it.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“He <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">is</i></b> such a sweetheart. It is why I’m
marrying him.” Caroline said as she hugged him closely, her hand falling to his
satin clad buttocks, drawing him closer. “Isn’t that right, darling.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">By now words were beyond William and he
could only nod and watch in horror as Madame Margot and her assistant
approached with a bulky garment carried between them.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“As the style you requested is ballgown,
Lady Congreve,” Madame Margot said “I would suggest a seven tier petticoat.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Seven tiers?” she repeated as she examined
it and obviously impressed gave her approval“Yes it <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">does</i></b> look delightful.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Yes, your ladyship.” Madame Margot said as
her assistant held up the voluminous underskirts. “Seven beautiful layers of
very stiff and gathered petticoat netting, the outer layer has lace around the
bottom of the hem. It has an inbuilt silk slip for the bride’s comfort so she
will not itch. The netting is so stiff a crinoline is not required as its
stands alone. Wearing this under such a beautiful gown will make the bride feel
truly feminine.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">The underskirt was laid on the floor in
front of William who stared at it in terror.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Caroline looked at her mother and could not
hide her expression of relief that she had been spared the ordeal of donning
such an exceedingly feminine garment. Of course her mother was far too busy
concentrating on her future son-in-law to notice.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">William, unable to comprehend what was
happening, was guided into the opening and in a matter of seconds he was
encased in the wide petticoat as Madame Margot ensured it fitted correctly
around his hips.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Perfect Madame.” her assistant cooed fluffing
out the net underskirts as William looked on with a pained expression, still
unable to grasp how he had found himself in this humiliating position.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Yes, splendid now help me with the first
gown.” Madame Margot instructed the young woman</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">The magnitude of what was happening seemed
to paralyse him and just as he was powerless when he was placed in the enormous
and heavy petticoats, he was now incapable of preventing himself being encased
in this vast swathe of satin. Madame Margot and her assistant placed the gown
over his head and as the assistant began buttoning the gown’s bodice from the
back Madame Margot was arranging the skirt over his petticoats. Mrs Fitzmaurice
and Mrs Claybourne delighted with this unfolding spectacle could not resist
helping with the operation. William remained motionless as Mrs Cavandish placed
his hands into matching satin opera length gloves and silently watched her roll
them up <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>his arms. As this was happening the
two ladies then arranged the gown’s long train ensuring it was perfectly
aligned.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">Satisfied they had completed their task
they joined Caroline and her mother to admire their handiwork. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Oh…my dear William” Mrs Fitzmaurice gushed
“You certainly <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">do</i></b> look the part.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“He certainly does. ” Mrs Claybourne
exclaimed, her eyes widening at the sight in front of her “Such a beautiful
gown. Please tell us, how does it feel?”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Do you feel as pretty as you look?” Mrs
Cavandish asked. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdSAZUrdYjwlHIFpsBlV7FuELj0aOCrT8dIVdnuhP7l9BRlDXQ-hAnge27gXX4lYX733l8Wg_M7l7AZxWS9aW3lf-dlHCmtTMJQuMJzlIeN-buCgmGGBfdljripjbScLmyZc3qnj4HeXthMTdOYuce3DwMr1yGDAXl3Ho1ub6PkkRqZ6Gw6zH9PrHyL00/s735/Bridal%20Store%20TEST.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="490" data-original-width="735" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdSAZUrdYjwlHIFpsBlV7FuELj0aOCrT8dIVdnuhP7l9BRlDXQ-hAnge27gXX4lYX733l8Wg_M7l7AZxWS9aW3lf-dlHCmtTMJQuMJzlIeN-buCgmGGBfdljripjbScLmyZc3qnj4HeXthMTdOYuce3DwMr1yGDAXl3Ho1ub6PkkRqZ6Gw6zH9PrHyL00/s320/Bridal%20Store%20TEST.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">His eyes remained closed but this only
heightened his other senses and he was now even more aware of the tightness of
his girdle and the stockings tugging on its six garters, the straps of the
brassiere bit into his shoulders and the flesh around his chest. Even through
his satin gloved fingers he could feel the softness of the gown. As these
sensations danced inside his brain some other voice was suggesting that this
may be a nightmare and he would soon awake.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">His eyes opened and flickered momentarily
as they began to focus and his worst fears were realised.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">The reflection in the mirrored wall
opposite confirmed the sensations he was experiencing were indeed reality.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Let us see how the gown moves as you
walk.” Madame Margot said gesturing him to walk but he stood rooted to the
floor still transfixed on the image staring back at him.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">William!</i></b>” Caroline’s mother’s sharp
tone immediately snapped him back into the present and she took his gloved hand
“Walk.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">The bulk of the dress seemed to weigh him
down and his every step filled the air with a distinct, uniquely feminine
swishing sound as the stiff netting of his petticoats swayed and moved against
the heavy satin of the gown’s skirt. He could feel his breasts, now free of
their binding, move within the confines of his new brassiere. It was a ghastly
experience but from the look on his future mother-in-law’s beaming face, it was
not one she shared. There was warmth in her smile he had never seen before and
she gazed on him with unbridled affection. The others looked on as he was led
around the room by his joyful <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and smiling
escort to the sound of rustling satin.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Such a pity it wasn’t in your size
Caroline.” Mrs Cavandish consoled the bride to be.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Yes…yes…a pity…yes…”Caroline answered
somewhat distractedly unable to take her eyes from the feminine figure of her
fiancée in his bridal gown.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“The heaviest of duchess satin. Such a beautiful,
feminine material. ” Madame Margot announced proudly as the couple continued to
parade. “Please do not take this the wrong way Lady Congreve, but he does not
look out of place in the gown. It is as if it was made for him and the
brassiere gives him a wonderful cleavage.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">William visibly winced at the comment his
humiliation burning inside.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Oh don’t be upset darling. It was meant as
a compliment, you do look every inch the bride.” Caroline’s mother whispered in
his ear “I’m not sure the gown would have looked as good on my daughter. Now
let’s go around one more time before we try another gown. And perhaps we will
try a suitable veil Madame Margot.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">William’s heart sank as he felt her hand
squeeze his affectionately. As they passed the other ladies he looked
pleadingly at Caroline but she merely smiled and blew him a kiss and turned
back to the company.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">They all looked on as Caroline’s mother and
Madame Margot fussed over William, fluffing out his skirts and rearranging his
long satin train. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“I haven’t seen your mother so happy in a
long time.” Mrs Cavandish said.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Yes, quite remarkable.” Mrs Claybourne
agreed. “He really does look the part. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“I think your mother has decided on your
gown, Caroline.” Mrs Fitzmaurice added.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">“Oh I think she has not only decided on the
gown.” Caroline said “But <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">who </i></b>is going to wear it.” </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB">The ladies nodded their agreement and
smiled.</span></p>Carrie Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16356755446225712759noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-24441038246593060052023-07-10T04:00:00.004-07:002023-07-10T04:07:52.186-07:00The Garden Party<p> Hi everyone,</p><p><br /></p><p>here's another short snippet that perhaps doesn't make too much sense, but at the same time. I managed to confine it to two paragraphs.</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><br /><br />“It’s really great that you’ve lost so much weight, Rebecca,” Julie said, “But you’re not doing yourself any favours with that haircut. You look like a boy in a dress.”<br /><br />My girlfriend shrugged at her sister disinterestedly.<br /><br />“Julie’s got a point, Rebecca,” Rebecca’s mother Cynthia agreed, “Compared to you, Peter looks almost like a girl in boy’s clothes.”<br /><br />I blushed and inadvertently clutched at my girlfriend’s muscular forearm, sticking out bare from the sleeveless top of her blue dress.<br /><br />“I’m not sure about that, though,” Julie said, “I didn’t know men’s pants zipped at the back.”<br /><br />I felt myself blushing even more furiously. Rebecca wrapped her arm around my shoulders and I found comfort in leaning into her, though at the same time our height difference, exacerbated by her high heeled shoes, made me even more self-conscious.<br /><br />“Julie!” Cynthia chided her.<br /><br />“What? Like I’m the only one to notice,” Julie protested.<br /><br />“You’re making Peter uncomfortable,” Cynthia explained.<br /><br />“Me?” Julie said, “You’re the one who said he looked like a girl!”<br /><br />“I was only making a point about Rebecca’s boyish looks,” Cynthia replied.<br /><br />A moment of uncomfortable silence passed as neither of us moved.<br /><br />“But yes, to answer your question,” Cynthia said, pouring herself more coffee from the pot, “I recognized Peter’s shorts immediately as my own. Couple of days ago, Rebecca took a bunch of my old clothes. Made me wonder as unlike you, she never seemed to care much for them. I guess now we know the real reason.”<br /><br />Indignant at the sudden realisation that the shorts Rebecca had me wear for her mother’s garden party had come from her mother’s closet, I tried to extricate myself from her embrace, but she easily subdued my feeble attempt. Not wanting to make our struggle, and my losing role in it, any more obvious, I gave up and reluctantly sunk back into her side.<br /><br />“You’re wearing mom’s old clothes?” Julie exclaimed, “Why?”<br /><br />“Rebecca likes me to wear them,” I replied softly, not far from the truth.<br /><br />“You mean she makes you wear them,” Julie replied.<br /><br />With tears of humiliation welling up behind my eyes, I desperately turned to Rebeca to say something to defend my honour. Instead, she glared back at her sister defiantly, all but admitting to her claims.<br /><br />“I guess it’s also her that likes that soft wave in your hair,” Julie continued, “And your legs smooth and hairless.”<br /><br />“Julie, that’s enough!” Cynthia stopped her and changed the topic.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />After some time without my image, or the true nature of my relationship to Rebecca being mentioned, I gradually relaxed enough to drift away from Rebecca’s side. I was actually starting to enjoy the informal party until I found myself cornered by Cynthia near the edge of her garden. Suddenly, I felt painfully aware of the fact that she was the donor not only of my orange linen shorts, but in all probability of my cream loafers and black cotton blouse, as well.<br /><br />“You know,” she said, licking her lips, “There were a couple of dresses in that bunch of clothes I gave Rebecca. Has she made you wear them, too?”<br /><br />I felt myself blushing at her bluntness.<br /><br />“Not yet,” I said, then blushed again at having inadvertently revealed yet another detail of the power balance of our relationship.<br /><br />“Doesn’t matter,” she replied, “The real pretty ones are still shelved up in my closet. Next time you come over, I think I might make you wear one.”<br /><br />She looked at me challengingly and as I looked at what I had been increasingly recognizing as an older version of Rebecca, towering above me on her four inch stilettos, I knew that I would be powerless to resist her, too. As if to prove that, she produced a tube of pink lipstick and proceeded to apply it to my lips while I stood still, obediently.<br /><br />“I’m going to invite your mother to my next garden party,” she said, “I’m counting on you to make sure she comes.”<br /><br />“Okay,” I breathed, tasting the glistening coating over my lips.<br /><br />“I wonder if she, too, will like you the same things me and Rebecca will like you to wear,” she said, then turned on her heel and rejoined her party.<div><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div><p><br /></p><span></span><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><br /></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; 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text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></div>Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08251557995803362070noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-80312992354557947612023-07-03T02:01:00.007-07:002023-07-06T01:02:43.650-07:00Couple Counseling<p>Starting on a shorty story is very easy, finishing one has been much more difficult for me in these recent years. Still, I managed to get at least one done. I hope you like it.</p><p><br /></p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;">Couple Counseling</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 10pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><br /></span></p><br /><br />Susan Wright glanced at her minimal though rather expensive wristwatch, then looked at the door of her office, expecting Marla Smithers and her husband to arrive any moment. She glanced at her watch again when a red light on the phone on her desk started blinking. It was her assistant, letting her know that her next client had arrived. Susan gently pressed a button next to it. The light stopped flashing and moments later, the office door opened and the imposing figure of Marla Smithers filled her field of view.<br /><br />The way she tightly gripped her husband’s wrist as they took their places on the sofa made her think of the first time their first session. It was Matt, her husband, that first caught her attention. Even though he was slight in stature and to Susan’s guess barely as tall as her wife when she accounted for Marla’s mid-height heels, she found his lean, athletic body and his gentle, though well defined facial figures inexplicably virile. His demeanor was polite and cooperative and it soon started to appear to Susan that Marla’s vice-like grip on her husband's wrist was more for her sake rather than his.<br /><br />This would be nothing new to Susan. In the vast majority of her clients, the wives liked to exert a certain degree of dominance over her husbands. This was to be expected, anyway, since Susan advertised her services predominantly to women, and therefore only those women which managed to persuade their husbands, by fire or by force, to take part in Susan’s couples therapy. The fact that Susan’s services were not cheap additionally filtered her client types, so at the first glance, Marla Smithers was not much different from any other wealthy, dominant lady that had graced her office with her presence.<br /><br />The reason for their visit was also nothing that Susan hadn’t heard before. It appeared that Ms. Smithers, in what she considered their mature age, was no longer willing to accommodate her husband’s sexual appetite, which was starting to cause a strain on their marriage. “There’s a problem I’d like to help you with,” Susan thought, looking at Matt Smithers from the corner of her eye, and indeed it would not be the first time for her to let herself enjoy the company of a sexually frustrated and handsome husband of her clients. However, she had a feeling that the case had too much potential to be spoiled by a casual fling of passion. The feeling was confirmed with each subsequent visit, as she was beginning to discover something unusual about the way Marla exuded an image of power that attracted her even more than Matt’s refined masculinity. By and large, Susan’s clients booked sessions only because they wanted to be validated in tormenting their husbands and Susan, knowing where her bread was buttered, was only too eager to oblige them. She realized that she was not so much helping the relationship as much as helping the satisfied customer bring in more of her type, though at least occasionally, she found comfort in the fact that a husband could use her sessions as an excuse to relinquish the obstacles of his male ego and happily submit himself at last to the dominance of his wife. Unlike any other client so far, Marla impressed her by how quickly she took her lead and even brought in new suggestions herself, all which served the gradual deconstruction of her husband’s masculinity.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Yet again, as she watched Matt take his place by his wife, she was finding herself excited by the prospects of the case. Matt’s virility, slowly eroded through the past sessions, was now even further compromised by the fact that he was dressed from head to toe in women’s clothes. Though that might be hidden from the casual observer, Susan didn’t fail to notice the pearl buttons of his light blue cardigan, nor that the white collar beneath it belonged to a ladies blouse. She also didn’t miss the side zipper of his dark blue slacks, his patent leather brogues, nor the flashes of nylon as he walked past her desk. She could spot a clear coat of varnish over his nails and faint traces of makeup on his face, and sensed a whiff of a sweet, floral perfume before being drowned in Marla’s usual Chanel No5.<br /><br />“How are you doing, Matt?” she asked him, “Have you tried what we discussed last time, to help you get more in touch with female energy?”<br /><br />As usual, it was his wife that answered the question, directed at him.<br /><br />“He has been trying,” Marla said, “But I am not really satisfied with his progress. It’s like we hit his natural limit of empathy.”<br /><br />“Such processes take time,” Susan replied, calmingly.<br /><br />“We would like to try what you suggested last time,” Marla said.<br /><br />“Hormone therapy?” Susan said, trying her best to hide the glimmer in her eye, “That would certainly help Matt expand the range of his emotions, though as I said, empathy cannot be learned overnight. I am sure we haven’t seen the last of Matt’s natural progress, yet.”<br /><br />“Maybe so, but if there is a solution, we are only wasting time by not taking it,” Marla replied to Susan’s great relief.<br /><br />She opened the drawer and took out the consent forms she had prepared in advance. Smiling, she placed them before Matt, together with a pen.<br /><br />Martha nudged her husband and he shuffled forward to sign the form.<br /><br />“I need to warn you, however,” Susan said, “Emotional changes won’t be the only changes Matt will experience.”<br /><br />Warily, Matt put down the pen he had already held in his hand and listened attentively to Susan.<br /><br />“With time, quite tangible physical changes are likely to appear,” Susan explained, “Changes in bodily fat distribution. Changes in the vocal register. Probably reduction in facial and body hair. Matt is also likely to experience a significant reduction in his libido,” she continued, then added after a thoughtful pause, “And his capacity to act upon it.”<br /><br />“Actually, I’m not sure this is really the right solution,” he said nervously, looking back at his wife.<br /><br />“No,” Marla said forcefully, “This is exactly the solution we are looking for.”<br /><br />“But, you heard that the changes won’t be just emotional,” he weakly protested.<br /><br />“Listen to me,” she hissed, “We’ve been through this. The reason you’re unhappy is because you have unrealistic wishes that cannot be fulfilled. How do you not see that a therapy that removes these very wishes is exactly what you need?”<br /><br />“I thought we were trying to adjust my emotions and acceptance about how unrealistic my wishes are,” he meekly repeated his mantra of the past sessions.<br /><br />“Well, you see how well that has been working out for you,” Marla curtly replied, “Don’t you think it’s time we tried another approach as well?”<br /><br />“Just try out?” he asked, with a glimmer of hope in his voice.<br /><br />Wordlessly, Marla nodded her head slightly, then stared her husband down until he obediently signed the forms in front of him.<br /><br />“Marvelous,” Susan replied, quickly retrieving the forms from him before he could change his mind.<br /><br />“A word of warning,” she said, “When you start your therapy, you might find the changes in your emotions very rapid and unpredictable. You might find yourself having lots of emotional outbursts for no apparent reason.”<br /><br />“I think he’s having one right now,” Marla laughed as her husband's face started contorting.<br /><br />Susan joined in the laughter, until Matt started crying in earnest.<br /><br />Quickly, she stopped laughing and passed him a box of tissues. Gratefully, Matt took one and loudly blew his nose, prompting both women to burst out with laughter again, and this time, Susan did not hold back.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />All morning, Susan had been distracted at work, anticipating excitedly the first session of the afternoon which was booked by Marla Smithers. Usually, Marla would keep her informed of her husband’s progress between sessions, but since her last sessions, words from Marla had been far and in between.<br /><br />To Susan’s surprise, after pressing the button, it was not Marla that entered her office but a strange lady, rather attractively dressed in a silk floral print pencil skirt and a pale pink blouse with billowing sleeves and a large bow at the front. Only when Marla followed her, after having opened the door for her, did Susan realize that the lady in front of her was in fact Matt Smithers. Inadvertently, she gasped with surprise and covered her gaping mouth with her hand, then broke into a wide grin.<br /><br />“Welcome,” she said, “Do come in.”<br /><br />Admiringly, and with a tang of envy, she looked at Matt’s slender legs running from the hem of his skirt down to a pair of white pumps with four inch stiletto heels, and as he made his way to his usual place, she could not help but notice the deftness and ease of his pace that could have only been gained through rigorous practice of walking on high heels.<br /><br />“That’s a very pretty skirt, Matt,” she complimented him, “Did you choose it yourself?”<br /><br />“Thank you,” he said and nodded, then noticed his wife looking at him intently.<br /><br />“Go on,” she said.<br /><br />“Actually,” he shyly began speaking, making Susan take note of how much more girlishly his voice sounded, “My name is now Veronica, and I would like to ask you to refer to me as a woman.”<br /><br />“Thank you for letting me know, Veronica,” Susan smiled, “I will do my best to keep that in mind, though I hope you’ll forgive me if I slip on occasion.”<br /><br />Veronica nodded shyly and sat back.<br /><br />“I take it you’re satisfied with Veronica’s progress?” Susan said to Marla, “She does seem to have fully embraced her femininity. The hormone therapy must have been a success.”<br /><br />“It’s been very helpful so far,” Marla replied, “You see, I realized that if I wanted to really succeed in getting fully in touch with the female energies, like you said he should, I needed to eliminate everything that could still remind him of being a man. With the help of hormones, I was finally able to convince him to quit his job and start living as Veronica full time.”<br /><br />Susan clapped her hands in delight.<br /><br />“Bravo to you,” she said, then turned to Veronica.<br /><br />“How do you feel about your progress, Veronica?” she asked, “Do you think you are now fully in tune with your wife’s desires?”<br /><br />“I would like to think so,” Veronica said softly, “I keep trying every day.”<br /><br />“So modest,” Marla cooed as she hugged Veronica across her shoulder and pulled her into her side. Susan couldn’t help but remark this was the first display of affection she had seen her make towards her husband.<br /><br />“Then I suppose our work is done?” Susan said, raising her eyebrows, “You probably won’t be needing any appointments anytime soon?<br /><br />“Actually,” Marla began carefully, “There maybe something you can help us with, still.”<br /><br />“I’m all ears,” Susan said and smiled, “I’m really curious what faults you can still possibly find in Veronica now.”<br /><br />“Oh, it’s not Veronica,” Marla replied, “It’s her mother.”<br /><br />“Is she having a hard time accepting Veronica’s new role?” Susan asked.<br /><br />“You know how some mothers are,” Marla said, “They think the Sun rises out of their sons’ asses. Veronica’s mother still can’t let go of the idea that her son was meant for greater things in life than being a housewife. Personally, it doesn’t bother me if she feels that way, because you can’t please everybody, but I would really prefer it if she would keep that to herself, because each time she visits, or we visit her, it makes Veronica upset.”<br /><br />“I would be happy to schedule a session with her,” Susan replied.<br /><br />“See, there’s the thing,” Marla said, then paused, “I’m not sure I can convince her to come here for a session. Do you think you could do a house call?”<br /><br />Susan paused, then pretended to scroll her calendar on her laptop.<br /><br />“It would have to be after regular business hours,” she said, “Though that’s not likely to be a problem for you. How about tomorrow evening?”<br /><br />“I’m afraid scheduling an appointment at our house wouldn’t work, either,” Marla said, licking her suddenly dry lips, “Would it… at all… be possible for you to stay with us for a couple of days?”<br /><br />“Oh,” Susan said, her heart pounding with excitement. She looked at Marla, and at her feminized husband, and tried to imagine what Marla had suggested.<br /><br /> “I suppose,” she began, “I could do the drive to the office from your place for a while.”<br /><br />“I’m sure you will find Veronica a very eager and accommodating hostess,” Marla said excitedly.<br /><br />Susan grappled with her thoughts for a couple of seconds, until she could not resist pushing her luck.<br /><br />“If you don’t mind me asking,” she said, “How many bedrooms do you have?”<br /><br />“Enough,” Marla replied, “Even with Veronica sleeping in her own room, there will still be one for each of us.”<br /><br />“I see…,” Susan began, paused for a second, then continued, “You see, I think it would be best if we could convince Veronica’s mother to stay with us for a while, too.”<br /><br />“In that case, Veronica could move in with me and free up the other room,” Marla said.<br /><br />“Oh no,” Susan hastily said, “I wouldn’t want to impose…”<br /><br />Marla looked at her excitedly.<br /><br />“I think something can be arranged,” she said hotly.<br /><br /><br />“Living in close quarters with you,” Susan continued, “Would be very beneficial for my research, you see…”<br />“Of course,” Marla said.<br /><br /><br /><br />Susan looked at her watch and estimated she still had time to go to her house, quickly pack some essentials and still be back in time for the next session.<br /><br />“I think it’s best if I pack my things and we continue this at your home,” she said to Marla.<br /><br />“I have a better idea,” Marla said, “Could you call your receptionist for a moment?”<br /><br />Obediently, Susan pressed a button on her phone and moments later, the young lady that had let Martha in entered the office.<br /><br />“Meredith, is it?” Marla said, “Meredith, here’s what I would like you to do. Dr. Wright will be staying with us for a couple of days as a part of her research project, so I want you to go to her house and pack her bags. Do you think you can do that?”<br /><br />Meredith carefully looked at Susan who in turn nodded approvingly.<br /><br />“Yeah, sure,” she said.<br /><br />“Splendid,” Marla replied, “Veronica will come along to help you. In the meantime, Dr. Wright and I have to discuss some of the research strategies.”<br /><br /><br /><br />Susan stood up and walked around her desk to hand over her house keys to her assistant. At the same time, Veronica stood up and followed Meredith out of the office. Susan closed the door behind them. As she turned around, she saw that Marla had pushed her chair away from the desk and was facing the door. With a quick, determined pace, Susan walked over to Marla, sat in her lap and snaked her arms around her neck. She felt Marla’s powerful arms clasp around her back and she knew she was going to enjoy the next phase of her research career very much.<br />Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08251557995803362070noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-60381191861299376272022-12-08T21:35:00.005-08:002022-12-09T17:31:22.108-08:00Help Wanted 2<p>Happy holidays. Here's another quick post to get the word out that the second half of <b>Help Wanted</b>, the feminization/sissification/femdom comic I drew for James Craft is currently available from Sick Puppy Press, either <a href="https://sixpacksite.com/store/help-wanted-2.html">individually</a> or as part of a <a href="https://www.lulu.com/shop/james-j-craft-and-rocket-xpert/help-wanted-complete/ebook/product-y2r8d9.html?page=1&pageSize=4">"combo"</a> pack that includes both parts, if you haven't already bought the first one. </p><p>If you follow me on deviantART, you might have already known that the comic was out. A week ago, I posted a <a href="https://www.deviantart.com/rocketxpert/journal/Help-Wanted-939448251">journal entry</a> there about the comic, though it's mostly me whining about life and complaining about the dearth of feedback I've gotten. Still, a few people have taken the time to say nice things about it, and I guess sales have been decent. </p><p>The story is pretty silly, and the pacing could be slower, but I think you can tell that a lot of hard work went into this thing. For what it's worth, I've illustrated a few feminization books over the years, and out of all of them, this is the project I'm most proud of by far. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpO9qovZdJjFNuvGNGk_fWdop-S6g7SEwh4qken6do3Nqyog7iHIRWN3IObsuzie6wQcsXYam6v12Z0P42bIGnKtFjcuTNbYjLwjJdWJZYwaNpSchyF6OIPmL0MfgNKyHn9h7UP6u-qAEKGd_30AOkj6SU4tz-FGnfUctX6rr0mCPOgJoYy_tuI-bPGQ/s1626/job_comic_double_spread_page_edited_by_rocketxpert_dfjbsmk.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="340" data-original-width="1626" height="84" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpO9qovZdJjFNuvGNGk_fWdop-S6g7SEwh4qken6do3Nqyog7iHIRWN3IObsuzie6wQcsXYam6v12Z0P42bIGnKtFjcuTNbYjLwjJdWJZYwaNpSchyF6OIPmL0MfgNKyHn9h7UP6u-qAEKGd_30AOkj6SU4tz-FGnfUctX6rr0mCPOgJoYy_tuI-bPGQ/w400-h84/job_comic_double_spread_page_edited_by_rocketxpert_dfjbsmk.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><br /><p><br /></p>rocketdavehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00574717380856957685noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-38919795918747972922022-09-22T22:59:00.000-07:002022-09-22T22:59:01.990-07:00Help Wanted (shameless self-promotion)<p> Hi, everypeoples. I just thought I'd drop in to announce that a comic I've been working on, on and off, for what seems like forever, has just been published by Sick Puppy Press, and if you're at all interested, you can preview and/or purchase it at <a href="https://sixpacksite.com/store/help-wanted.html" target="_blank">sixpacksite.com</a></p><p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh2AgaMSEafQfQBAF295dOxcrKTrzaI_t5VoV1kzL9fzKXFUV4-5LNgiEUHaOwZ1MUYEA2G-hAW2oQ4yr9d2UWK6rufAfAj7yEL7XkEVGmV6baAgkwCWZ_-yjUpxWUXH-CjRjl3oJ8bj5LgMvGRXpt2gzj1IhidnaPm1WjFx73qXpjGX4Iq-1_scQTxA/s1892/help_wanted_by_joesixpack60_dfdysbv.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1892" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh2AgaMSEafQfQBAF295dOxcrKTrzaI_t5VoV1kzL9fzKXFUV4-5LNgiEUHaOwZ1MUYEA2G-hAW2oQ4yr9d2UWK6rufAfAj7yEL7XkEVGmV6baAgkwCWZ_-yjUpxWUXH-CjRjl3oJ8bj5LgMvGRXpt2gzj1IhidnaPm1WjFx73qXpjGX4Iq-1_scQTxA/w406-h640/help_wanted_by_joesixpack60_dfdysbv.png" width="406" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>I said this on <a href="http://deviantart.com/rocketxpert" target="_blank">deviantART </a>already, but I've never worked harder on anything than I have on this comic. Among the various feminization-themed projects I've been involved with, this is my favorite. I truly believe it to represent some of my best work to date. <p></p><p>If you do decide to buy it, I hope you enjoy it. And if you feel so inclined, I'd welcome any feedback. After working in secret for so long, I'm somewhat starved for positive reinforcement. </p><p><br /></p><p>As long as I'm here, I might as well also share this drawing I did for my close, personal friend, the extremely talented artist Fraylim.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS8NIFRvPc3TT9szMoUYHHF3tBWZx-La24BDYf5lMawXXaJjLVssr_9Lg7sScg0rmOSfuU9MCBiZbTEhxifiqbIDYsMbMQT2YnhDrZII9MHbuxgTnKBP2X-FUwDzVoQo3lbxgCJk6DjiL0TuI6d5pHXL3gikWawi4KBQkIogOt8yKdKg9lHm7uv9BUpQ/s2000/Stuart%20Stacy_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1528" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS8NIFRvPc3TT9szMoUYHHF3tBWZx-La24BDYf5lMawXXaJjLVssr_9Lg7sScg0rmOSfuU9MCBiZbTEhxifiqbIDYsMbMQT2YnhDrZII9MHbuxgTnKBP2X-FUwDzVoQo3lbxgCJk6DjiL0TuI6d5pHXL3gikWawi4KBQkIogOt8yKdKg9lHm7uv9BUpQ/w488-h640/Stuart%20Stacy_edited-1.jpg" width="488" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>rocketdavehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00574717380856957685noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-2284808512629483012022-03-31T18:29:00.002-07:002022-03-31T18:29:42.571-07:00Swiss Miss Sissy, Chapters 26, 27 and 28<p> </p><p>Hey, remember "Swiss Miss Sissy"? Bambi sent me a new chapter in late 2020 and another couple new ones last year, but I'm only getting around to posting them now because I've been preoccupied with my own shit. I haven't even bothered to read most of whatever Bambi wrote. What I have read, I don't remember. To be totally frank, I'm having a difficult time caring about this story anymore. However, perhaps there are one or two followers of this blog still keen to be updated on the ongoing adventures of Cheryl. </p><p><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><b>Chapter 26:</b></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>Cross-dressing, crossing age boundaries, cross-examination and crossfire. Cheryl discovers that even the great sisterhood of Mistresses is not one big happy family.</i></span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It had been a miserable night. Tied up and locked in my tiny playpen, my classmates ignoring my sporadic cries for help, I could only sit and wait in the darkness.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Though the abundance of stuffed animals made my cage mildly comfortable, I couldn't sleep. Every time I was about to doze off, my head nodded and I awoke. So I spent my time trying to ignore to pressure in my bladder and the tireless plug.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">At some point I found myself walking down the hallways of the school. I was looking for a toilet because I desperately needed to relieve myself. But the school was being hit by a major earthquake, and I felt the tremors run up my legs and into my crotch. Worse still, I was being chased around by a huge bumblebee that constantly tried to land on my rear. I tried to scream, but I couldn't because a huge baby bottle filled with a creeping green ooze was lodged between my lips.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">...I guess sleep finally did manage to claim me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I remember an alarm going off, and I saw my classmates rise from their slumber. My memories of that moment are... warped. Intermittent. Colors were brighter, sounds deeper, straight lines seemed slightly curved. Like it was part of a dream too. Probably my tired and seriously overstimulated brain hadn't regained full consciousness yet, though I cannot exclude the possibility my dinner had an ingredient that wasn't quite all-natural...</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Not that it mattered. Aside from a few friendly greetings (and a mean-spirited snigger from Buttercup) they ignored me as they prepared for the day. After cleaning themselves, dressing, applying make-up and performing extensive checks on their appearance, they lined up and marched off, leaving me all alone.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The urge to visit the toilet was becoming intolerable. I looked to my side, longingly observing the entrance to the bathroom. It seemed larger then life, inviting me inside to find a ceramic throne and relieve myself...</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I started to wiggle inside my tiny cage, struggling with my bonds. I pulled on the metal bars, kicked my legs, twisted my torso. I wasn't quite fighting my restraints; I was still too tired to be agitated. I simply tried to get myself in motion and head to the bathroom, regardless of my bondage.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It worked as well as you might imagine, and after bumping my head for the third time I uttered an annoyed squeal. I didn't relent on my hopeless efforts, but my frustration elicited pitiful sobbing.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I felt so utterly helpless...</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">This is unfair! I thought as I vainly struggled in my playpen. I need to go to the toilet! Let me go!</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My sobbing turned into crying. It was muffled by my pacifier to a soft moan, but I felt tears run down my cheeks. The urge to relieve myself and the grief of being unable to claimed my whole reality.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I hardly noticed the dormitory's large door open, the painted pink sissy swinging away to reveal two figures. I was still struggling with the drowsiness, never mind my sadness, but I recognized the two Mistress; one in red latex and one in dark blue velvet. The same ones that had tended to me yesterday.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">They were chatting among themselves, in that weird language that made no sense to me. They greeted me enthusiastically in that same unintelligible prattle. Miss Wächter had exchanged a few words in English with them, so I knew they understood at least some of it. For whatever reason thought, they didn't bother to speak it to me. The only words I could discern were some nonsensical baby talk that they seemed to find hilarious.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Goo-goo?” the one in red asked me as they approached my pen.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Grumfh! Hurmpfh!” I grumbled. Very funny, Mistress... Let me out, please. I need to go to the toilet. Urgently.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">They showed no sign of being in a hurry. “Ga-ga?” The blue one said as she crouched next to the cage.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Huff?” I asked confused. What did they want?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The red one joined her colleague. They exchanged some words, burst out laughing, then turned towards me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Goo-goo, ga-ga?” One asked again. “Couchy-couchy-coo?” the second added.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">What was their problem? I wondered. Never mind, that. I really needed to go to the toilet. I struggled, getting agitated. Let me out, I thought as tears kept running.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My useless wiggling amused them, but the red one nevertheless wagged her finger in a reproachful 'tut-tut' motion. “Goo-goo,” she said again.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Why don't you go goo yourself? I thought, getting more frantic in my struggles.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Like a serpent, the blue one reached inside my pen and gave a sharp tug on my earlobe. I squealed in dismay.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Bad baby!” she said venomously.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I looked at her through my tear-stained eyes, unable to stop sobbing. All mirth was gone from her face. From her colleague's as well.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I clearly had come dangerously close to stepping over the limits of this... game we were playing. Get with the program, their silent eyes told me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">They coolly observed me. I hesitated. The blue Mistress was about to lean in again.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Guh-guh...” I uttered, despite my pacifier.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Their eyes lit up, satisfied with my response.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Goo-goo?” the blue one asked me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">No idea if there was an actual question behind it, but I replied with a meaningless 'bu-bu-bah', forcing the silly sounds past my gag.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Ga-ga?” the latex Mistress askes me. The mirth had returned to her expression. Heck, it radiated from her face!</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Coo-coo. Bah-bah,” I answered.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">We continued this little chit-chat in baby talk. I began applying my lessons in Sissythink: play along and get creative. Pretend this is real. Make it real.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I had stopped struggling. Instead I used my limited range of motion to underline my infantile statements.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Goo-goo. Ba-ba-te-ba. Mu-mu. Goo-goo-ga,” I said gesturing wildly with my hands. “Boo-boo-coo-coo!” Not even my gag could muffle such nonsense.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The two mistress had stopped talking, allowing me to exclaim long and involved monologues.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Finally, while I was in the middle of a long story, that I have no idea what it was about but somehow made complete sense to me, they exchanged a satisfied glance and erected themselves. I saw in a mixture of surprise and elation they were opening my cage.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I also felt annoyance. Hey, I was talking here!</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Still, relief won out as they tilted the heavy lid. My desperate urge to pee returned in full force.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The two mistress untied my wrists and ankles, then supported my arms as they helped me up.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Thank you, I wanted to say. Please, Mistress, take me to the toilet.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Goo-goo. Ga-ga,” I was I really said.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Still, they must have gotten the gist of it. The woman in red lifted my skirt and moved her gloved hand underneath. I mumbled surprised and agitated babbling as I felt a latex clad finger slip underneath my panties and into my diaper.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The blue mistress supported me as the shock of the red one's probing made my legs turn into jelly. My towering heels and monstrous boots didn't help either.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The red mistress withdrew her hand and carefully looked at it. It was dry.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Boo-boo-ba,” I said. No I didn't come, Mistress. Not this night, anyway. And I certainly didn't </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>wet</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> myself!</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Ta-ta, pee-pee!” I added. ...But I cannot hold myself for much longer!</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The two women exchanged a few words, seemed to agree with one another, then helped me step over the edge of the pen. They continued their mysterious chattering, involving me as well. Every time an incomprehensible question was clearly directed at me, I responded with nonsensical baby talk.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Well, not completely nonsensical: “Gu-guh? Goo-ga?” I said complainingly. The two women were escorting me across the room, each one firmly holding one of my hands as they urged me forward. We passes the bathroom's door to and moved towards the baby chair. I was still suffering from the same drowsy-dreaming state I had been experiencing since I woke up, and the chair seemed more than oversized: it was gargantuan, but very far way. It looked menacingly as it came closer.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I continued prattling protests in baby talk as the two women mince-marched me to the baby chair, crossing me immense distance in mere moments. I felt like climbing a mountain when they made me step into it. Efficiency they strapped me in, locked up my feet, reattached the constricting table and hooked my collar to the headrest.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I didn't want to struggle, but my overstretched bladder forced me to wiggle about restlessly. I muttered agitated cooing sounds into my gag as the two women got my breakfast.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Perhaps I should not have been surprised, but I nevertheless uttered a dismayed squeal as they brought another large baby bottle with the green liquid. It seemed to fill the room.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">No! No more! I tried to call. “Goo-goo-ga! Beh-bah!” I cried out instead.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The blue mistress lifted up the bottle and aimed the phallic nipple straight for my lips. The red one unbuckled my pacifier. For once I didn't allow it to fall out of my mouth; it was my only defense against that awful bottle! The latex mistress simply pulled it out.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">No, wait!” I called out wailing, trying to regain my focus in the distorted room. I found it difficult to form words, but my urgency gave me strength. “Toilet! Please, I need to pee!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The red mistress gave an annoyed sigh, then pinched my ear sharply. Pain radiated from my ear and shot though my skin.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Gah! Ga-ga! Goo-ga,” I began to prattle for some mysterious reason, like the words were getting mumbled in my mouth.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Goo-ga?” </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>What</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> was I saying? “Ba-ba! Poo-poo-pa-pa?!” I called out in utter disbelief. What was happening?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The two mistress looked at me surprised, then smiled. They were </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>very</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> impressed just how deep I had submerged into my character...</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I wobbled in my chair as I babbled nonsensically. My thoughts had become just as jumbled as my words.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The blue mistress brought me back to the here and now, by quickly slipping the bottle home.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I felt the nipple slide between my lips, over my tongue and deep into my mouth. I would have jumped up startled if my chair had allowed. Instead my eyes just registered how the full length of the nipple disappeared underneath my nose.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Goo! Guh! Muh! Muff! Moo. Boo...” I sputtered, slowly relaxing.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The women in velvet gave me a moment to acclimatize to my situation, then began feeding me. She squeezed the bottle in short pulses, and the filthy liquid began shooting deep into my mouth...</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It was just the bottle now. Not dessert, no bowls with yellow stuff, just the green goo.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Halfway down the bottle I had enough. My bladder was full, and they kept on pouring this liquid into me? Heck no! I refused to swallow any more. I couldn't spit it out, courtesy of the phallic nipple, but I let it slowly drip from between my lips.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The two Mistress picked up on this, and discussed the situation. I felt a sense of satisfaction. For all the things they could make me do, they couldn't force me to swallow.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The red mistress wiped my mouth, then placed her finger on my throat, underneath my collar. She began softly rubbing the spot just under my Adam's apple, causing a strange urge. I felt the urge to swallow. I resisted, but the unfamiliar sensation was very persistent. And resistance I was something I was very short on.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I gulped as a mouthful of mush went down my throat. Guess you can force someone to swallow...</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">After a couple of loads were forced down, I got the message. I finished the bottle without further objection.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">After they were done feeding me, the two Mistress placed the gag back in, then untied me from the chair and let me out.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Meekly, obediently, and with a head filled with jumbled thoughts, I let the two women escort me towards the bathroom. Finally...</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">We entered the tiled room, where pristine white was a slightly less dominant color compared to baby pink, and they placed me before one of the sinks. I saw myself in the mirror, the pink sissy-baby-doll, and how the blue mistress pulled my panties and diaper down to my ankles.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Usually this would horrify me, but with my upper arms still tied doing this myself would be very difficult. And getting to the toilet as soon without delay now was my top priority. I still saw myself blush, though.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I was urged to lean forward, and I groaned as the mistress pulled out my plug. It was still vibrating, but less than before. Clearly the battery was running out.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I didn't need to go 'number two', but I was still thankful for them being so considerate. Being able to pee without that incessant vibration in my rear seemed heavenly.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I wanted to make a step backwards, step out of the panties and diaper resting around my ankles. They stopped me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Goo-ga?” I mumbled confused. The two women ignored me. One held on to my arm while the other turned off the vibrating plug and placed it in a small laundry basket of sorts. Then she opened a drawer and took out a fresh one.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Boo!? Goo! Coo-coo!” I protested as I was forced to lean forward again. The mistress holding the plug applied some lubricant, switched it on, then casually pressed the vibrating penetrator against my sphincter.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The other one held me in place, but didn't bother preventing me to raise my legs and stamp my feet in protest and agitation.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Goo! Ga! Ba-ba! Moooo!” I called out as the wickedly quivering plug slid home. Only now did I realize how low on power the previous one must have been: compared to that one the new plug to be intent on shaking me apart from the inside.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">One of the women stooped down to pull up my diaper and panties, careful to avoid my stamping feet (not that I entertained thoughts of kicking her, but when armed with stiletto heels even a carelessly stomping sissy is potentially lethal).</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">No! No! “Too-too! Boo-bah!” Not yet! Let me pee first! “Coo-coo-katchoo!” I can't hold it any longer! “Ta-ta-ma, pee-pee!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The two women took my hands and guided my out of the bathroom, completely ignoring my infantile wailing as they casually chattered. They didn't even mind my attempts to stop in my tracks, shake them of and hurry towards the nearest toilet. But with my weak legs trapped in boots that were bondage made manifest, they only had to cope with some pathetic pulling and tugging. They easily got me back at my playpen.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I resisted, tugged, cooed, pulled, wailed, even cried, but nothing prevented them from putting me back in the tiny cage. Seemingly without effort one mistress slipped one arm behind my leg, the other behind my knees, then lifted me up, legs still kicking in protest. She lowered me into the playpen, in the same position as before. The other quickly got to work reattaching my bonds. Ribbon between my ankles, wrists to the bars.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I fought my bonds, but aside from some clanging louder than the incessant jingling of my earrings, as well as putting unnecessary pressure on my furiously buzzing plug, I got nowhere.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Goo! Guff! Hurmpf! Hu-Hum! Boof! Boo!” I called out as the heavy lid was closed and locked.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The mistress in violet crouched next to my cage. She reached through the bars and placed Prissy's doll back on my lap, then pinched my cheek affectionately. “Good baby,” she told me smiling. The other one stood back and blew me a kiss. Then the two mistress turned away and walked out of the dormitory, leaving me alone in my absurd playpen, in a room that seemed slightly... off. No company save for the stuffed animals and the plug that almost seemed to be alive.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I kept on resisting, refusing to give them the satisfaction of abasing myself. I don't know for how long, for time works differently when you are fighting desperately from wetting yourself, but it seemed like forever.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>nothing</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> lasts forever; not even iron resolve. Finally the tide found chinks in the dam holding it back, and the floodgates were opened. No, I </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>allowed</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> them to open...</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A warm liquid spread across my loins as I abased myself, the diaper unable to deal with the flow.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Goo! Coo-coo!” I cried in humiliated frustration as I struggled inside my playpen. “Boof! Ba-ba-ti-boo!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">******************************</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">With hindsight I've come to realize there was a fiendish system in my training, but at the time there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the seemingly arbitrary tribulations I was being put through. One moment I was still stirring in my own juices for goodness knows how long (or short; time seems so relative when you are stuffed in a tiny playpen wearing a soiled diaper), the next I heard a group of high heels click as they approached the dormitory. It wasn't the rapid clicking of short mincing steps typical of sissies, but the long powerful strides of dominant women. It sounded like trouble.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I struggled in my pen. In vain of course, but I simply couldn't suppress the urge to run and hide. The realization a bunch of mistresses was about to learn I had wet myself gave me second wind, even if it only resulted in some token resistance.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My illustrated sister who urged me to 'think pink' flew to the side as the door was thrown open. Seven Mistresses-in-Training from various houses stepped inside. They were chatting among themselves, then fell silent as they looked at me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The room was quiet for a moment as the women took in my sight. I could do nothing but look back in dismay, my bonds softly jingling as my arms and legs hadn't quite realized it was much too little far too late.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It was me who broke the silence: “Goo-ga...” I mumbled for no particular reason.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Roaring laughter burst out from my audience. I was not an act; clearly these women had never seen such a pathetic sight as Cheryl Pink Panties in her tiny playpen. I almost fainted from the utter humiliation of it all.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Laughing, giggling, chattering, the women rushed up to my prison. Gone was their powerful gait: they were almost skipping from delight. They surrounded my prison, crouching next to me. They were talking to me, but I couldn't understand a word they were saying. I wasn't even sure they were all speaking the same language; I heard some words that were clearly German, others that were probably French, perhaps even Italian.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Not that they could understand me, of course. I could only manage to get some incomprehensible baby-talk past my pacifier as I struggled in my pen.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Another delighted squeal from my audience. Hands reached into my prison to pinch my cheek, pat my head or tickle me. I tried to avoid these grasping claws, but in my tiny prison the best I could do was muttering cute baby-talk in protest while wiggling dinky as the women teased me relentlessly.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Eventually the novelty began to wear off. The laughing died down as the hands withdrew. After this assault on my senses (not to mention my body) I began to recognize individual faces and voices.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Most of the women I had never met before, but two of them I recognized. The first was Mistress Anna Black, the beauty who had led me across the dance floor just yesterday. I looked at her as she talked with one of her colleagues, her long hair falling across her shoulders like a golden waterfall. She glanced in my direction and caught my stare.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She gave me a stern look, with no sign that she even recognized me. Her chilly eyes frightened me and I turned away.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I guess I should have been glad: my abased state was bad enough as it was, having the girl of my dreams recognize me instead of enduring it in anonymity would certainly be worse.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Still, I mainly felt hurt. And loss. She certainly had made quite an impression on me, but clearly I was very easily forgotten. And why wouldn't I be? She was a radiant beauty while I was a pathetic sissy in a soiled nappy. Her being out of my league was an immense understatement.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I felt tears on my cheeks. Tears had been running down since the laughing started, my dread and humiliation their source. But these tears were different: caused by heartache.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I summoned the courage to look at Mistress Anna again, and saw she was still observing me. Her cold stare chilling me to the bone.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Then she corner of her mouth turned upward. She smiled. Not the mocking smile of a Mistress, but the warm smile of the young woman I had danced with. Then she winked at me, and suddenly her eyes sparkled, betraying the giddy enthusiasm behind her stern facade.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">'Nice seeing you again, cutie,' I imagined reading in her pretty eyes. 'Oh Cheryl, what on earth have you gotten yourself into?'</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I blushed. I had probably been blushing out of pure humiliation for a while now, but this was different. It was a shy blush. I shrugged and mumbled some baby-talk into my pacifier, as if I wanted to say: 'Sorry, Mistress. But I wasn't given much choice.'</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I was probably imagining things, but she seemed to understand. She gave me an emphatic nod. Then her cold haughtiness returned as she donned the mantle of a dominant, ending our private interaction.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But it was enough. She had recognized me. And despite my abased state, she didn't condemn me, for which I loved her.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She was way out of my league, for sure, but a women like her can claim anyone from any league, anytime. Maybe, just maybe, one day she'd claim me, I mused.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A voice cut through the random chatter and the Mistresses turned towards its source. I followed their gaze, recognizing the speaker. It was Mistress Désirée, who Tabitha had warned me about. The one who was member of these so-called 'Black Cloaks'.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She addressed her colleagues in an authoritative tone. Though really a student herself, she clearly had a position of power among her peers. I didn't understand her, but two other dominants nodded and turned towards my pen.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">They unlocked my prison and lifted the heavy lid. Though glad that I was apparently being released, as the women looked down at me with an eager smirk, I wondered if I wasn't going from the frying pan into the fire.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Whatever they were planning, they didn't bother telling me. They just unshackled my wrists and ankles and helped me out of the pen. They were nice enough to offer me support as I was very weak in my legs. Thankfully, the vibrator had mostly ran out of juice; its stimulation had receded to an annoying drone in my nether regions.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The women formed a circle around me, looking me up and down. I felt very uncomfortable to be the center of their attention, being particularly self-conscious of the fact that I was wearing a soiled diaper. Something they were aware of, I was certain. The mocking grins that pushed through their stern facades proved it. Or was it just my ridiculous pink outfit?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It didn't matter, I knew what they were waiting for. So I bobbed a very proper curtsy for these dominants.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">They didn't acknowledge my greeting. Several women looked at Mistress Désirée, who didn’t look back at them. She just gave a slight nod while keeping her eyes on me. Without a word the other women widened the circle, leaving me alone with Miss Désirée at the center.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">With the grace of a feline and smile of a hungry attack dog, the black clad mistress stepped forward. Her hands rested on her hips, accentuating her seductive sway. Two fingers on her left hand casually played with a small crop, giving the curious impression of her wagging her tail.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Demurely, I avoided her gaze. I simply looked at her jet-black boots as they approached me, cleaned to such a shine I saw lights being reflected. I doubted she had cleaned them herself…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Despite my awful heels, I didn’t move at all. I remained frozen in my proper sissy-stance. A shadow fell over me. Still looking down, I saw Mistress Désirée’s boots were now almost touching mine. I felt her slow breath caress my face, a touch of fresh mint sweetening the air.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A well-manicured hand appeared in my field of vision, and delicate fingers touched the bottom of my chin, gently tilting my head backwards; forcing me to look at her.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Her brown eyes looked deeply into mine. They were as beautiful as the rest of her, but promised not a shred of empathy.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>told</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> you we’d be seeing each other again very soon, didn’t I?” She said sweetly, with menace oozing from every word.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Yuff. Mufruff,” I replied, forgetting the pacifier still wedged in my mouth.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Long nails bored painfully into my skin as she pinched me. “What’s that, baby-girl?” she asked menacingly.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I yelp under her merciless touch, then uttered some nonsensical babytalk, my gag making it even more unintelligible than it already was.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Very good,” she said softly, releasing her grip.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You have no idea how difficult it was for me to acquire this particular shift,” she told me as her nose was a hair’s-width removed from mine. “They are </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>very</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> popular among the Teaching Assistants. Especially when such a cute tihng as yourself is involved. I had to trade away three of my own shifts. I hope you appreciate the sacrifice I had to make for you.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I mumbled some ‘goo-goos’ and ‘ga-gas’ into my gag in affirmation, but my heart would have preferred anyone but this leather clad fiend. Not that I was in any position to argue, of course.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Still smiling, she let go of my chin. Stepping back, her painted talons gently stroked my skin as her hand went down to my collar.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A shock went through my neck, Mistress Désirée suddenly pulling hard on my leash. I felt myself being pulled off-balance.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I screamed into my pacifier as I fell forward. With my elbows bound by that dreadful ribbon, there was little I could do but flap my hands in dismay. As the world tilted around me, I stepped my left foot forward in panic. Then the chain locking my ankles was pulled taut and I made everything worse, pulling the right one from under me. If the boot wasn’t that rigid, I would have snapped my ankle and immediately crashed onto the ground. Instead I was just tipping over in a nice curve, flapping my arms and screaming smothered cries as I went.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I felt an impact around my torso, and suddenly the world twisted and turned around me. For a moment, I thought I had hit the ground, but then I felt the arm that has arrested my fall, holding me tight. Through the blur of my confusion a saw Mistress Désirée looking down on me, a smirk on her face.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Whoa, there, baby-girl,” she said tauntingly, pulling me close against her “Watch your step, we wouldn’t want you to get hurt, now would we?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I wouldn’t be any danger if it wasn’t for you! I thought rebelliously. But since I was still tied up and her embrace as the only thing preventing me from a painful drop, I thought better than to press the issue.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Another frightened yelp; my feet were suddenly lifted off the ground, and Mistress Désirée now carried me in her arms like a frightened babe.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mon Dieu, what have they… ugh... been feeding you, girl?” Mistress Désirée said strained.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">This made the other Mistresses laugh, though I was closer to crying. Realizing this woman, who wasn’t some big hulking brute like Frau Ochsenhorn, somehow managed to carry me… Yes, it was taxing for her, but still… I was genetically still a man. When did I become </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>petite</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">? What </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>had</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> they been feeding me?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Désirée interrupted my musings, putting me back on my heels.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">On your feet, baby-girl. We’ve got work to do. Turn around. Show me your panties.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Still a bit dazed, but drilled to perfection, I turned on my heels, bent over and lifted my skirt. Then I realized I was looking straight at Mistress Anna Black, standing daintily in her own black leather uniform. She looked at me sternly, whatever warmth she normally radiated blocked by a cold exterior. It made me blush. Well, blush even more. Her opinion mattered double to me. Her seeing me like this was…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Twack! The sound of a crop rang out like a gunshot. I felt something ice cold touch my behind, following by fire.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Gguff!” I cried out, almost tripping over my ankle ribbon when I hopped involuntarily.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Pay attention, Cheryl Pink Panties!” Mistress Désirée snapped at me. “You can daydream about Anna’s cock in your mouth on your own time. We’ve got work to to.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">This made the other women laugh, but Mistress Anna shot Mistress Désirée a venomous look. “Very funny, Des,” she added icily.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Suddenly the laughter subsided. The other women looked back and forth between Mistress Anna and Désirée.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">That is ‘Miss Black’ to you, Newbie,” Mistress Désirée replied just as chilly. “Don’t forget</span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i> I</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> am your superior...”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Damen, nicht vor den Tunte!” one of the other women said softly, but very insistently. As if I shouldn’t hear what she was saying. Not that I understood her, of course.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The two mistresses broke eye contact. “Right...” Miss Désirée said aggravated.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Then her tone changed. “Anna, it seems little Cheryl has the hots for you, “ Désirée said with mock friendliness. “would you be so kind as to prepare the pinkie for me?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I’d be delighted,” the golden-haired beauty spoke, though her eyes said something else entirely.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She walked up to me, and without a word grabbed my leash and turned me to the right. “This way, sissy,” she said sternly.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Another tug told me to move, and hobbled by my outfit I struggled to follow. Mistress Désirée began addressing the other women in German while I was led towards the bathroom.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Still holding my leash, Mistress Anna urged me inside, then closed the door behind me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">For a moment, she listened at the door, as if to make sure Mistress Désirée wouldn’t disturb us.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A frown appeared on her face. “What a bitch,” she said under her voice.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I couldn’t agree more, but my gag smothered any affirmation.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She turned towards me, her frown turning upside-down.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hey Cheryl,” she said softly. “they put you through quite the wringer, haven’t they?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I nodded. But I admit her smile lightened my mood.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I fear you’re not done yet, girl” she said in a regretful tone. “Just hold tight.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Ï mumbled something in my gag. ‘Hold tight’ was an apt choice of words: between my corset, collar, boots and bonds, I was being held very tightly indeed.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Here,” she said, reaching around my head. I felt her hands fumble with the buckle of my pacifier, then the phallic intruded slipped out of my mouth.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Suddenly released of the tang of rubber and silicone, I noticed how stiff my jaw had become.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">...fank you,” I said as I tried to relax my muscles.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Anna shot me an angry look “Shush,” she reprimanded. “I'm not supposed to talk to you. If Désirée hears you, we’ll both be in a lot of trouble.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I was about to stutter an apology, but her insistent gaze shut me up.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Turn around,” she said. Ordered, really. I turned daintily on my heels.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Let’s get these off you,” Mistress Anna said as she began fiddling with my bonds.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress? Is that wise?” I asked under my breath. “I’d be out of uniform.“</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I could hardly believe I was actually suggesting to be kept tied up, but I dreaded the consequences if Mistress Désirée would see me without my bonds.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She uttered a girlish giggle. “You are in your dorm, silly. You don’t have to be in uniform now.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Oh...” I said very relieved.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Anna untied my elbows. “...Besides, we cannot change your diaper tied up like this.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Wha.. What!?” I stammered, trying to turn around and face the Mistress, almost tripping over the ribbon between my ankles.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hey? Don’t move!” Mistress Anna cried out. She grabbed my leash and pulled me towards her, making me stumble into her arms.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">With her free hand she took hold of my hair, and pulled my head backwards, forcing me to look up to her.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She shot a quick glance at the door to the dorm-room, making sure no-one overheard us, then looked me in the eyes, sternly.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Listen very carefully, Cheryl. I like you. But if you get me into trouble, Désirée will be the least of your problems,” she said as she tightened her grip on my hair. “That haughty skank is just waiting for me to fail and snitch on me. I am </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>not</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> going to be expelled for being incompetent or weak-hearted, understood?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I didn’t blink, let alone nod, frozen as I was in under gaze. Was this the same girl who was apologizing to me for stepping on my toes the day before?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She didn’t await my response; she simply let go and continued untying me. Then she took my hand and dragged me behind her. “This way,” she simply said.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Skittering in my heels, she led me up to a cabinet on the other side of the bathroom.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She laid her hand on its handle, then looked at me. Her stern gaze seemed to evaporate, then and there. For a moment, I saw the same sweet girl that I met yesterday. “Just… Try to relax. It’s nothing personal.” she said conflicted as she opened the cabinet.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My heart sank.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Let’s do this quickly,” Mistress Anna spoke as she took out the first item.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I couldn’t control myself. “You said I wouldn’t be tied up!” I cried.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">On her face, annoyance mixed with reluctance. “I said you couldn’t be changed tied up like </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>that</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">. This course is for us to learn how to safely and efficiently clean a rebellious sissy by completely immobilizing her,” she spoke as she took out a pair of arm-binders.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I’m not rebellious!” I said indignant. And frightened.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Sounds to me you are,” she said as she loosened the straps. “Not that it matters. Someone much more important than me marked you as a ‘Bondage Babe’, which means we may… well, ‘must’ really… tie you up completely even during routine assignments.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But...”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Enough, sissy,” Mistress Anna spoke. “Let’s get this over with. Give my your hand.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My mind drew a blank, but my body reacted obediently. I could only watch as the fair-haired beauty slipped the tick leather glove over my hand and up my arm. Only when the glove had been pulled up to my arm pit did my hand each the mitten on the other end.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Anna pulled the straps, tightening the glove around my arm. She repeated the procedure with my other arm.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Turn around,” she said.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I did, and could only gasp as she took my two encased arms and pulled them behind me. I knew she was pulling the two ends of the zipper towards each other, and when I heard the ‘r-r-r-r’’ sound, it was clear she had succeeded.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">As she zipped me up, first my wrist were pulled together, followed by my lower arms and elbows. By the time she reached my upper arms it had become quite uncomfortable. When she was done, the strain on my shoulders seemed agonizing.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress, it’s too tight. I can’t...” I uttered.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You must.” She replied, getting out the next item. I guess it was supposed to be a posture collar, but it was so high and thick it looked more like a leather-clad stove-pipe. The collar I was carrying as part of my uniform seemed positively tiny.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">After removing the latter, Anna had a hell of a time getting it on. It was so rigid she grunted with the effort to pull the back apart and fit it around my neck. When she relaxed her grip, the material wrapped itself around me as it fell back into its normal shape. It almost seemed redundant to close the clasps afterwards.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The collar covered my neck from shoulders to chin, forcing me to look up. I didn’t understand why, but didn’t dare ask.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress gave me a soft push, forcing me to make two steps forward.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Only able to look up, I couldn’t miss the large ring hanging from the ceiling. I didn’t see what Anna was doing near my feet, but I heard the jingling of chains. I felt some fiddling around my left ankle, then she pull a chain down and taut. When she let go, I still felt the downward force and knew she had connected a D-ring on my boot to some hook on the floor. She repeated the process with my right leg, locking me in place.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My back was turned towards Mistress Anna, so I couldn’t see what she was doing, but involved another chain. Apparently, it was difficult; she uttered some annoyed curses in-between the jingling of the chain.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A satisfied grunt signaled she had finally succeeded, and stepped up behind me. A long pole appeared in my field of view above me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">One end held the chain, which the pole directed towards the ring in the ceiling. After several attempt the chain fell through the ring and could be pulled down.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I didn’t feel much through the tick leather of the armbinder, but it was hard to miss that Mistress Anna connected the chain to its end.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Attention, Cheryl,” she said. “This may be... a bit uncomfortable...”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Behind me, she pulled the other end of the chain, forcing my hands towards the ring in the ceiling. I squealed as my strained muscles were tormented even further.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">As my arms were forced in a direction not meant by nature, my torso compensated by bending over. Only when my torso was horizontal, with my behind sticking out nicely, did Anna stop pulling. Now the collar forced my gaze level with the floor.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Just one more thing, Cheryl,” Mistress Anna told me reassuringly. She stepped into my field of vision.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress… I cannot… It is too tight…” I grunted.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She looked at me emphatically. Then smiled warmly.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You are doing great, girl. Just hang on. Keep your chin up.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I kind of have to, Mistress,” I said with an ironic sense of self-deprecating humor. For some reason, her poor choice of words was actually quite funny.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It made her giggle, and mirth radiated form her eyes. She gave me a soft kiss on the cheek.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Now relax, let me get this on you.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She held up a ring, with straps on either side. I didn’t know what it was at first, when she put it in my mouth I realized it was another gag.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">While she fastened the clasp at the back of my head, my mind tried to figure out the purpose of this item.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It didn’t muffle me as thoroughly as my pacifier or any other gag, but did force my mouth wide open.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Oh my god! They were going to put things in my mouth, weren’t they? I had a dread vision of these Mistresses taking turns penetrating my mouth with all kinds of phallic items.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Anna seemed to have read my mind (or at least understood my frightened mutters).</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Don’t worry, Cheryl. We need to check your teeth, that is all,” she said as she finished securing the ring. “Aside from the diaper change, you are getting a physical examination. Just making sure you remain healthy.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Her face appeared right in front of mine. “That’s it, cutie. I’m going to get the others,” she said with a smile.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I wanted to mutter some half-hearted affirmation, but she didn’t give me the chance: she leaned forward, and opened her mouth. I felt her lips touch mine. For a moment I was stunned in surprise, but then her tongue enter my mouth, worked its way past the ring gag and reached mine.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I could only sigh as she kissed me passionately, for a moment that lasted both eternally and much too short. Then she withdrew herself, smiled and walked over to the door to the dorm-room.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She called out into the other room. “Désirée? ‘Miss Black’, I mean. She is ready for you.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">**********************************</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The diaper change was as uncomfortable and humiliating as I had feared.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The women entered the bathroom quietly, but burst out whooping and hollering as they saw me in my new predicament.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Immediately I was the center of attention, and the Mistresses gladly took advantage of my vulnerability. They smacked my bottom. Stroked the insides of my legs, all the way up. Two stuck their tongue deep into my defenseless mouth.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Désirée let them have their fun, then silenced them with a curt command. She began speaking in German.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I had no idea what she was saying, but obviously I was the subject. She often tapped me with her crop to underline her words. My bottom was an important subject, but I felt its malicious touch all over my body.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Speaking of malicious… In between taps, the tip of the crop moved subtly up and down my groin, softly stroking my clitty. It had no purpose other than to teasingly arouse me, And damn that woman, she succeeded.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A sharp sting set fire to my behind, making me groan.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Enough theory,” Mistress Désirée said. “Time for practice. Brenda, you go first.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">One of the Mistress stepped forward, smiling wickedly as she slipped on a pair of cleaning gloves. She walked past me, her hand stroking me from my crown, across my back down to my behind. Her colleagues giggled in approval.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Save the theatrics for another time, Brenda,” Mistress Désirée admonished. “We are late. Get on with it.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Spoilsport,” the Mistress named Brenda spoke. Then she went to work.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Taking position behind me, her hands slipped underneath my skirt. Despite Désirée’s urging, she took her time. Fingers wormed their way into my panties, making me grunt. Then she pulled the fabric down, and I felt the satin slip down my thighs. She let go, and gravity took over; making my knickers fall around my shackled ankles.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The diaper was next. I was blushing furiously, feeling ever so self-conscious as this woman stripped me down. Finally being rid of my soiled nappy was but a small comfort.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She undid the adhesive tape, and pulled it away. Now I could feel the air move between my legs.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I gave a surprised yelp, as I felt her fingers probe the edges of the plug that was still invading me. She took hold, and pulled back.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I groaned as the shaft slid out of my behind, a shudder going down my spine. I half-heard a ‘plop’ as the tip was pulled out.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But that wasn’t the end of it. The Mistress called Brenda produced some wet-wipes, and began cleaning my nether regions. She meticulously wiped my butt-crack, causing me to pull my bonds in dismay. If my feet hadn’t been locked to the floor, I would have frantically kicked my legs the moment she began oiling my butt around (and in!) my sissy-hole.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But even that was nothing compared to the humiliation of her cleaning my clitty. She couldn’t help snigger as her rubbing got me excited, and she spent an unreasonable amount of time moving a wash cloth up and down my hard clitty.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I was almost thankful that she began dressing me again. Almost, because it included putting the plug back in. She hadn’t turned it on, but I nevertheless squirmed as it push aside my sphincter. As it entered me, I felt its ribbed texture electrify my senses, and I couldn’t help moan. Much to the delight of my audience, I might add.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Then came the weirdest part. She was handed some metal contraption. With my head locked in position by my collar, I couldn’t get a good look at it, but it seemed like a strange collection of rings. Brenda clearly recognized it, as she gave a delighted giggle when she fiddled with it.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Before my mind had processed this information, she took up position behind me, and I felt a ring being placed around my excited clitty, followed by a tightening around the base of the shaft. Then cold iron was wrapped around my sissy bells. Something snapped shut, and as Mistress Brenda got up, I felt how my sissy parts being encased in tight metal.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">They didn’t bother explaining it to me, but I quickly learned it was yet another tool to frustrate poor little sissies. It didn’t obstruct me in my daily routine; I could go to the toilet for example. Nor did it prevent me from getting excited. Quite the opposite… The tight rings kept the blood in my clitty well after any stimuli had stopped exciting me, causing me to spend much of my day dealing with a raging hard-on.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Still trying to wrap my head around this new experience, I barely noticed how Mistress Brenda replaced my diaper, followed by my panties.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Despite not doing much myself, I was panting. I felt my clitty throb in my panties, and even if I could not see it, I knew it was sticking out like a tent pole. I could do little to vent mu frustration but groan and pull my bonds.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But at least it was now over.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Not bad Brenda,” Mistress Désirée said. “But don’t forget to put lotion on her groin too. Patricia, you’re next.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">What?!</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Show me how you’d clean a sissy,” the leather clad woman said stoically.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I’d love to,” another Mistress spoke.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Nah ahain! Pheah!” I managed to utter through the ring in my mouth. I tried to get up, but my strained arms allowed no leeway.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Désirée didn’t even look up. “Don’t mind Cheryl. She is not going anywhere. But you are welcome to borrow my crop if you want to pacify her.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">No need,” the other Mistress said grinning. “I know a trick or two myself.“</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She slipped on a pair of gloves. “I would have said ‘assume the position’, but that would be kind of redundant. Isn’t that right, Cheryl Pink Panties?” she said as she took up station behind me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">****************************</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Anna was the last one in the queue. Contrary to the other Mistresses, she wasn’t all that elated to change my diaper yet again. But what she lacked in enthusiasm, she made up with stern pragmatism.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Done,” she told Mistress Désirée as she pulled up my panties.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I couldn’t see Mistress Désirée’s voice, but I imagined there was an annoyed frown on her face. She didn’t even bother to acknowledge Anna’s accomplishment.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Now pay attention all. I will show you how perform a quick physical on a sissy,” Mistress Désirée said as she walked up to me. “It is no substitute for a visit to the doctor, of course, but if you follow this procedure, you will prevent most of the common ailments that tend to plague a sissy. Perform it often, and you will get much more mileage out of your girl.“</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My mind was still fuzzy of the string of diaper changes (not to mention my frustratingly excited clitty), so I was not prepared for what came next.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Even so, having a bar of soap shoved in my mouth was probably the last thing I expected.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Washing out a sissy’s potty mouth is not just a good discipline tool; if you use soap of the correct formula, it works wonders to prevent tooth decay. It even soothes the numbness of wearing a gag for prolonged periods.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I bucked in my bondage, trying to get my mouth away from the green bar lodged between my lips. But with my arms stretched upward and my neck fixated by my collar, Mistress Désirée had to do little more than apply some pressure.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Of course, soap doesn’t taste good, so your sissy might need some encouraging to take her medicine.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She placed her hand over my mouth, ensuring the bar remained all the way in, and continued with her lesson.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Next, we take care of her legs and feet,” she said as she ignored the foam dripping from her hand. “Though our sissies just </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>love</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> their heels, mincing about in stilettos all the time does take its toll. Fortunately, regular massaging, together with the ample application of tiger balm is enough to avoid most symptoms.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">How often do we need to massage our girls?” the mistress called Brenda asked.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Désirée barked a mocking laugh. “</span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>You</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> don’t do any massaging, of course! Your sissy should do that herself. It just that… hold still Cheryl… Cheryl! Be quiet, sissy! Brenda, give me a hand here. Five lashes... Four… Five... That’s better. Where was I? O yes, it is useful to know how to do it yourself, in case your sissy is a bit unruly.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">First, make sure your little faggot is secure.” With her free hand she playfully tapped my behind. “We already got that part covered.” An amused laugh went through her audience.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Désirée explained the techniques to relax my muscles, without undressing or even untying me. While she kept her hand on my foaming mouth, she directed her students to rub and salve various points on my body. One pair of hands unzipped my boots down to my calves and began pushing their thumbs deep into my leg muscles. I would have jumped up if my ankles weren’t still tied down; such was the fire that shot through my legs. I cried into the soap bar for her to stop, bubbles forming between Mistress Désirée’s fingers, but she kept on rubbing. Afterwards, I was glad she did, since my legs actually felt much more relaxed. But at that very moment, it was agony.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">One mistress massaged the small of my back, a traditional sore spot for women who wear heels far too often, and applied a liberal amount of balm. It simultaneously felt cold, hot and electrifying.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">They worked on much more than just my legs, and even my tortured arms were serviced, without loosening the chain even for a moment.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And all the while, my locked clitty refused to relax…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Slowly, the number of hands on my body became less and less, until even the one covering my mouth was retracted. What remained of the soap bar (much had already been dissolved by my saliva) slipped through the ring and fell on the ground.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A Mistress whose name escaped me unbuckled my gag, and offered me some water so rinse my mouth. I hated to say it, but my mouth did feel very clean.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The chain was lowered and my collar was removed (and replaced with my regular one).</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I was allow to stand, but the moment I managed to remain upright unaided, I was accosted by lipstick, blush, hairspray and perfume. My time in the pen, not to mention my diaper changes, had ruffled my appearance and I was assaulted by this pack of women who were determined to restore my ultra-femininity.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">When this circle of she-wolves withdrew, a picture perfect, dainty and surprisingly refreshed sissy was standing in their midst. To this day I don’t know exactly what happened; like I had been sucked up by a tornado of femininity and spit out fully frilled.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">That concludes today’s lesson,” Mistress Désirée told her colleagues.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">***************************************</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Désirée shook hands with a the other Mistresses, who thanked her for both an informative lesson and wonderful spectacle. For each I performed a curtsy as they left the dorm room. Two give me a kiss on the cheek. Another me full on the lips.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Last one to leave was Anna. “You’re not coming, Désirée? I mean, Miss Black.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She shot Mistress Anna an annoyed look. “No. Cheryl and me have some… evaluation… to do.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Anna answered her gaze with matching hostility. “Why don’t you just leave her be? Cheryl’s been through enough. She needs to rest. Besides, you know the rules; no messing about in the girl’s dorm rooms.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Get lost newbie,” Désirée sneered as she viciously pulled my leash, eliciting a shocked yelp. “Your performance has already been dismal these last couple of days. Don’t make it any worse.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Anna’s eyes shot fire. “That a lie and you know it!“</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Miss Désirée’s smiled, but it was as cold as a glacier. “So? The staff would believe me. They always do. Want me to tattle on you?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You wouldn’t!” Anna said defiantly, but even I could hear the doubt in her voice.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Try me...” Mistress Désirée replied tauntingly. It oozed with implied threat.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Anna gave her senior counterpart a hard look, but eventually turned away first.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She smiled warmly as she addressed me. “Thank you for the demonstration, Cheryl. You were great. You should feel proud of yourself.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I felt a lot of things, and ‘proud’ was not exactly one of them. But the moment she mentioned it, I actually began feeling proud. I blushed prettily as I curtsied for her deeply.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She put her hand underneath my chin, and gently urged me to look into her smiling face. She leaned in to give me a short peck on the cheek.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A painful jolt went through my body, radiating from my neck. I barely registered how Mistress Désirée had viciously tugged my leash, pulling me away from mistress Anna an into her cold embrace.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She pulled my head against her ample bosom, one hand on my head and the other around my waist. It was a possessive embrace, and utterly devoid of affection.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I told you to get lost, Anna,” Mistress Désirée said. Her fingers took hold of my earlobe, and slowly began pushing into the flesh. I was too dismayed to cry or scream, but a scared groan escaped my lips. “Now.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Anna’s eyes shot from Désirée to me and back again. I could almost hear her grind her teeth. Then she nodded and turned away. As she left the room, the door with my illustrated sister who urged me to ‘think pink’ slammed shut. To me it seemed like a stone tomb had been sealed around me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I was buried alive, together a dangerous serpent.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><b>Chapter 27:</b></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>Bullies, besties and everything in-between. The complex social life of sissy school.</i></span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Desiree let go of me, but held on the my leash. Her hand went up the cord, until she was holding it inches from the ring in my collar. She gave it a sharp tug, making me yelp. She pulled my face close to hers.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Our noses were almost touching as she looked deep into my eyes.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Now then, what should I do with you?” I her her say.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I felt the implied threat hidden in those words, and made my knees turn weak.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My mind drew a blank. I don’t know if she expected a response, but I felt the need to say something. Anything.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Goo… Ga-ga...” I stammered.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A mean slap on my cheek shut me up.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">We are done with that nonsense,” she told me annoyed. “Try to keep up, girl.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Now my mind went into overdrive, trying to adept to this change, but remained utterly clueless. Fortunately, my body responded before hesitation could cause offense.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I performed a respectful curtsy (as much as was possible with her holding my leash taut, anyway). “I’m sorry Mistress. I wasn’t thinking.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A smile appeared on her face. It was a cold smile, but all things considered an improvement.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Of course you weren’t. Tell me something I don’t know.” She slackened her grip on my leash.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I assumed she meant that rhetorically, but her eyebrow was raised in anticipation. “Well?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress?… Er… I… Ehm...” I stuttered.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She snorted, half-amused, half-contemptuous. “I’ll make it easy for you, dumb-dumb: what should I do with you… </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>to</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> you… right now?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I muttered something confused before the perfect reply passed my lips: “Er… evaluate the course, Mistress?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She grinned wickedly. “Interesting option, but I have a counter-proposal: I sodomize you until you cry, and then I continue until you can’t even walk anymore. How does that sound?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress? What…?” I gasped startled. “You can’t be serious! You can’t do this!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Watch your tone, pinkie,” she admonished. “You have sexy voice, and I’d love to hear you squeal, but don’t presume to tell me what I can and cannot do.” She ran one finger underneath the strap of my gag, that dangled on my chest as an abominable necklace.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I got the message. I still mouthed some protests, but managed to swallow any actual sounds.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Now then, shall we,” she said with feigned affability, pointing towards the nearest bed.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I hesitated, until a jerk on my leash got me moving.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">...You didn’t bring a strapon,” I said softly. I was clinging at straws here.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She barked a mean laugh. “So what? In this room alone I see a seven things I could stick up that tight little hole of yours.” She look over her shoulder, and her smile frightened me. “Not sure if it will still be tight afterwards, though.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">We came up to the side of the bed. With her free hand, Mistress Desiree pulled back the sheets. Her grip on my leash diminished.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I looked across the room, and saw all kinds of items that I imagined this wicked woman would put inside of me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I was suddenly gripped by panic. Without thinking things through, I turned and ran. A jolt around my neck signified I managed to dislodge the leash from Mistress Desiree’s grip.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">What the…? Cheryl! Come here, sissy!” Mistress Desiree shouted.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I didn’t listen. I </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>really</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> didn’t listen. My weak will couldn’t disobey a direct order, so I somehow pretended not to have heard it. My whole mind was focused on the illustrated painted sissy on exit.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I skittered across the dormitory, my heels clicking with every step. The painting became larger, but it felt it was lightyears removed. The heels, the ribbon tying them together, they made my steps so tiny. I flapped my hands as if I tried to take flight.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I didn’t get far. Even in her own heels Mistres Desiree covered the distance before I was half-way. She grabbed my hand, twirled me around, then pushed my wrist against my back in a painful lock.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The cuffs around the ear didn’t really bother me. The sight of the prepared bed, growing to abominable proportions as I was led towards it however, did. I started to cry.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Please, Mistress Desiree. Please,” I grovelled. “Don’t do this.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Desiree seemed very upbeat despite my serious breach of discipline, “Don’t be such a crybaby, Cheryl. Your owner,.. Christina Jaeger wasn’t it? ...She must have fucked you silly before.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">That was different!” I said sobbing “She loves me!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She did. She had to. It was the one hope I desperately clinged to. That she had simply traded me away to awful Miss Rosenberg, I preferred to forget.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Love?” she said incredulous. “Oh, silly goose. Are you really telling me she stole your manhood out of love?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I couldn’t think of an apt response.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">No my dear, it was about sex. </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>Everything</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> is about sex.” She released her grip on my hand, and turned me around, pulling me tightly against her.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Then, to my complete surprise, kissed me on the mouth. Deep and passionate.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Except for sex. Sex is about </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>power</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">,” she said with a haughty grin.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Wh… Wha… P… Power?!” I stammered. “You kissed me… because of </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>power</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She gave an amused shrug.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I… I don’t believe that.” I said quivering. “You cannot kiss someone like that and feel nothing.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Did I just sound like some overly romantic schoolgirl?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Desiree, eased her grip on me, an intrigued look on her face.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Is that so? Tell me Cheryl; what did you feel when we kissed? Love?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Her eyes narrowed? “</span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>Hate</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">? Be honest... I’ll know if you are lying.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I felt like her eyes impaled me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Slowly, hesitantly, I nodded. “I hate you...” I whimpered.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My answer didn’t offend her. She just gave a wry smile. She had been vindicated.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">He hands went towards my neck, grabbing the straps of the pacifier. “Enough talk, girl. Let’s get down to business.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Time seemed to slow down, and I saw the phallus approach my mouth as if in a crawl.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I hate hating you!” I unexpectedly blurted out.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The gag stopped moving, the tip almost touching my lips. Mistress Desiree looked at me quizzically, but didn’t lower the gag. This better be good, sissy, it seemed to signify.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Eyes wide, radiating sorrow and regret (and no small amount of fear), I looked up to her. “I don’t want to hate you. I want to… love you. I can </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>learn</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> to love you.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She lowered the gag a few inches. “Is that so?” she asked, clearly unconvinced. “Just like that?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I shook my head. “No… No… It will be hard. But reality is… malleable. They said as much during my class on ‘sissythink’.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My hand went up her arm. The fingers of my glove gently touched hers.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I looked away shyly. “If you pretend to be something hard enough... they say... you become it.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My arms were still bound at the elbows, but she had lowered hers far enough for me hold her hand. Even through two layers of patent leather did they feel warm.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I blushed as I looked up to her. “Can’t we… try? I can be… what you want me to be.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I leaned into her. “I can love you… Can you… Love me?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I felt her arms around me. The grip was still firm, but much more gentle.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I couldn’t embrace her in the same way, but I managed to put my arms on her hips. It reminded me that Mistress Desiree was a truly beautiful woman.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And then I kissed her.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It was a bashful kiss, of a shy girl, but a kiss nonetheless. It surprised Mistress Desiree, but she didn’t refuse it. She answered with passion.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I felt Mistress’ hands on my body, but I hardly noticed. Only when I was lifted into the air did I give a surprised squeal.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Desiree laid me down on the bed like a maiden, then slipped into bed next to me. Her eager tongue quickly went between my welcoming lips.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Burden with my shackles, I couldn’t touch her the way I wanted to. Her touch was intoxicating, though, and I was more than happy with my passive role. I squealed as her hands probed my skin. I whimpered excitedly as her fingers ran up the inside on my legs, all the way to my groin.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And her hands were impatient too, so much so I feared so was about to rip my dress off my body. Fortunately, she managed to unzip me, and pulled the top of my dress down to my underbust corset, revealing my bra. She didn’t waste time undoing the fastener: she just pulled the straps over my shoulders and then the entire garment went down.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">If she even noticed my breasts were false, still as firmly attached as the day they were glued on, she didn’t seem to mind: she squeezed and massaged them like they were the real deal.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But my clitty was of most interest to her. Still locked in the reverse-chastity device, it was throbbing with excitement. After she pulled down my diaper and panties, it peeked out from under my dress like a shy animal. It made her giggle.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">As she began playing with it, I squirmed under her touch. This really pleased her. I don’t know if my naive speech on love had even resonated with her, but she sure loved power and making a puppet dance by moving a single string was almost as intoxicating to her as it was to me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She took her time, making sure I never climaxed. And all the while I was as wax in her hands. When her thumb entered my mouth I didn’t complain. I didn’t even hesitate. As she began pushing my plug, I shifted my weight so she had better reach.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Through the haze of extasy, I heard her curse.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>Merde</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">! Cheryl, get up. </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>Vite, vite</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Huh? Mistress?” I said dazed.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Quickly. Get dressed,” she said with clear urgency.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My clothes were still on me, but they were in places they shouldn’t be: my dress and bra were stacked in a narrow band around my waist, while my panties rested around my ankles.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I fiddled with my outfit, unsure which piece was which, which way as up. Impatiently, Mistress Desiree tried to help, whit similar succes.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Leave it!” she said very insistently. “Get into the bathroom, quickly!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Half-naked, with only my erect clitty preventing my dress from slipping down my legs, I was urged into the bathroom</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Wait here,” Mistress Desiree said under her voice before closing the door.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Still perplexed by this sudden turn of events, I did as I was told, not even bothering to fix my appearance.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Then I heard the dormitory door open, and realized Mistress Desiree had heard footsteps long before.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The newcomer spoke, and I realized it was Miss Wächter. Though I couldn’t understand the language, she sounded unpleased. Mistress Desiree replied in the same tongue, her tone switching between innocence, falsely accused and defensive.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Then both women left. It took me a while to realize Mistress Desiree wasn’t coming back for me, so slowly entered the dorm room.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I looked at the disheveled bed. I looked down on my outfit, and suddenly recent events hit me like a tonne of bricks.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The spell, which I had cast myself, wasn’t broken; it was </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>shattered</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I laughed. I cried. I was so confused. I had just managed to avoid being forcibly taken by Mistress Desiree by… offering myself to her? Did I indeed love her? Was it an act? I couldn’t tell myself.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Did I have sex with this woman? Was it willingly? Did I just cheat on Mistress Christina? More questions I could not answer.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">As this storm of emotions and thoughts raced through my head, I began cleaning up my appearance. Fortunately, my uniform was not damaged so I only had to put it properly in place. My hair and make-up needed touching-up, but that was straightforward.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">As I covered my body in the trappings of ultra-femininity, I buried my doubt underneath the persona of the sissy people expect me to be.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">When Miss Wächter found me in the dorm, she noticed contently how quickly I had assimilated into the Pink Panties.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Like I had been born and raised into it.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">*******************************</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The next few days were a bit easier. Instead of being subjected to weird ordeals, I had to content with a daily routine of following classes and staying out of trouble. After my tribulations in the feeding-chair and play-pen, even the cruel attentions the mistresses-in-training seemed mild in comparison.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It also helped that my sisters in the Pink Panties were supportive. They all had been subjected to the chair and pen at some point during their first cycle, and could relate. But one immediately after the other? That was unprecedented. Even Buttercup was impressed.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">This elicited some mixed emotions. On one hand I was actually proud: clearly I was in a league apart. On the other hand, my teachers didn’t pull their punches during my training. They would push me to my limit, knowing I could take it. The more my sissy-persona was polished, the less tolerance there was for sub-par performance. The baroness was not kidding when she said she strove for perfection in her wards.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Still, in-between classes I began to get my first taste of liberty since I stepped into this school. Sure, we weren’t allowed out off the designated areas, which were bounded by heavy-set oaken doors and bolted with very modern electronic locks, but otherwise we were free to wander as we pleased.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Of course, us Pink Panties stuck closely together. There were always Mistresses-in-Training around, often traveling in groups like packs of hungry wolves, on the prowl for infractions.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Outside of the classroom the school staff didn’t much concern themselves with us; the Mistresses acted as the school’s enforcers instead. Whether it was as trivial as a crooked seam or as serious as outright defiance, the Mistresses-in-Training would quickly deal with it. And the punishments were as varied as the women who dished them out.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">No doubt there was a system in their actions, but to me it seemed outright arbitrary. A Mistress could resolve a small infraction with a stern dressing down one moment, and cane you the next. You had to keep on your toes, avoid the tiniest of infractions, because could never trust a Mistress to go easy on you.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But staying sharp all the time drains you, and having all your buttons continuously pushed will cause you to slip up sooner or later. After being talked down to by a particularly zealous mistress, I couldn’t help but make a sassy remark. The words had slipped past my lips before I even knew it, and regretted it instantly. When she and her friends were finally done with me, I regretted it even more.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And yet, such acts of defiance were not the worst transgressions. Speaking without a feminine voice, stomping around like a man, or any other act that broke the illusion of being feminine was the greatest of sins, and the Mistresses would come down on an offending sissy like an avalanche. I now know there are mistresses who prefer their sissies to retain part of their masculine appearance, but not here. Ultra-femininty was not just the norm, it was the law.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">So the Mistresses-in-Training upheld the rules on school grounds, correcting wayward sissies wherever they were found, overpowering them if necessary. If a single Mistress could not subdue a particularly rebellious girl, her colleagues would immediately come to her aid. Woe betide the foolish sissy that had to be dragged off to some unknown fate by a group of furious and vengeful Mistresses.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But I’m making it sound worse than it was, really. With so many sissies to pounce on, the Mistresses usually went for the easy targets. So if you just stayed together, looked and behaved perfectly sissy-like and didn’t dawdle in their proximity, you might just escape their notice.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">All things considered my prim and proper behavior averted the worst of the Mistresses’ attention. Good thing too, because my pink uniform stuck out like a sore thumb among the far more common yellows, greens, purples and blues. And every Mistress knew that ‘pinkies are more fun’. Especially those with perpetual hard-ons...</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">******************************</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">We were having lunch in the main hall. Here all students that weren’t confined to their dormitory, performing tasks or otherwise occupied could mingle freely. Even the Mistresses ate here, at least those that weren’t tasked with keeping a watchful eye on the sissies.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I shared a table with several girls: Two sissies were from Yellow Ribbon. One was a Green Corset and another a Purple Petticoat. I hadn’t met them before, but their faces were all too familiar: the same heavily made up dolls-face that all the subjugated girls wore as a mask. Much like my own. All different yet all the same.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Their names were Candy, Lily, Kathy and Holly. Or perhaps Ashley, Dany, Shauny and Honey. Names as interchangeable as their faces.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Only their uniforms marked them as individuals. Subtle difference in their clothes differentiated them from the other members of their house: sandals instead of pumps. Flared skirt versus dress and petticoats. The different tokens on their wrists. The text written on their caps or bodices that disclosed and reminded of some great personal shame.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But still a uniform. As if their individuality had merged with the collective. Or that their personality had merged with their appearance.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It made me wonder. Is that what a sissy was? Just filling for a dress and heels? An animated uniform? Each one the same as the next, produced en-masse at sissy-school? Each one interchangeable. Replaceable.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I thought of Mistress Christine, for who I had given up so much. Was I, in the end, just as replaceable? A cold shiver went through my spine</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">...And why do so many sissy names end with a ‘y’? I thought with a frown.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">What’s the matter pinkie? Not hungry?” A haughty voice spoke next to me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">That immediately brought me back to the present. I smiled prettily to hide my worries and looked up demurely to the speaker.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">No, Mistress Jade,” I answered bashfully. “Cheryl Pink Panties’ thoughts just wandered off, that is all.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The woman next to me gave me an amused grin. Her appearance proudly showed her oriental heritage. Her dark blue outfit marked her as a member of the Violet Velvets, and her dress hugged her petite body like a second skin; with a neckline so low it seemed to defy gravity. The skirt was cut asymmetrically, with a spilt on one side that shamelessly revealed most of her left leg while covering her right knee. Tiny feet disappeared into a pair of blue suede mary-janes, while the long nails on her bare dainty hands were simply painted blue.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Her fingers tapped the cane lying in front of her, I was over a head taller than this Asian Mistress, but from the moment we met she still managed to look down on me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I smiled as I cursed the recent turn of events. Every sissy gets assigned a monitor during her first cycle; a fellow student that acts as a sort of mentor and who is responsible for a girl’s training outside of class. This monitor can be one of the Mistresses-in-Training, but could also be a pupil of the finishing school on the other side of the complex. My housemates were already assigned monitors, who had all chosen tonight to collect their charges for some private tutoring. Now that my sisters had been collected, (save for Tabitha, whose monitor was ill), I had effectively lost whatever protection I received from traveling in a group:</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Tabitha and I tried to reach the dining hall without drawing attention (staying in the dorm was not an option: meals are mandatory), mincing in formation as we always did, looking prim and prissy. Didn’t do us much good though. A pack of Mistresses immediately spotted the two lone pinkies and surrounded us.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Facing one Mistress is difficult. Facing six is impossible. I’ve never gotten used to the taunting and bullying, and I doubt I’ll ever will. Feeling so damned self-conscious about being dressed like a some little pink fairy (something they eagerly remind me of), there was no escape for the humiliation that washed over me. I could smile, say ‘yes, Mistress’, obey they commands to the letter and bear it (‘why, aren’t you a good little girl!’), or I could stand up to for myself and be defiant (‘Isn’t she </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>adorable</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">, pouting in her pretty pink dress and heels!’). It did not matter: it only ended with more taunting and humiliation. And perhaps as few slaps on my behind.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Worse still was that the Mistresses separated me from Tabitha. I was mince-marched down the corridor by three of the dominants, while my sister was ordered to follow their colleagues. Hadn’t seen her since.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">They escorted me to courtyard at the center of the complex, giving me instructions as we went. The late afternoon sun fell on my face as I stepped outside.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The square was mostly empty: the school never was densely populated to begin with, and at this hour most of the students were either in class or preparing for dinner. Only a small group of Yellow Ribbons and a few Green Corsets and Purple Petticoats were present, as well as two Mistresses from Red Latex to keep the peace.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The three Mistresses remained at the edge of the square. I could feel their gaze burn on my back I I minced towards the center of the courtyard, my heels clicking with every step.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Other girls began to notice my presence. Some sissies looked at me quizzically. One of the Mistresses in red looked at me, tightening the grip on her cat-o-nine-tails. A particularly bright Green Corset hurried into the building, recognizing that trouble was afoot.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I tried to avoid the others’ eyes, mentally focusing on my instructions. They were unclear, contradictory, and quite frankly absurd. And I had no choice but to obey them to the letter.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I heard a woman behind me clear her throat. Hurry up, sissy, it seemed to say.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I took a deep breath, straightened my back, and forced a big smile on my face.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Remaining in place, I began to step. Left-right, left-right, making sure the click of my heels rhythmically echoed across the courtyard. I raised my legs as far as my bonds allowed, my thighs touching the hem of my flared skirt. Wind blew past my panties, and my locked and forcibly excited clitty felt its cold touch through the fabric, reminding me just how exposed I was.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I flapped my hands to the rhythm of my heels, straining the ribbon tied around my upper arms.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">All eyes were now on me, and I puckered my lips and made kissy-faces to my audience. I winked at Rex Latex Mistress, and licked my lips seductively at the nearest sissy, whose yellow maid’s uniform was particularly sexy. An alien tingle went through me. Must have been a chilly breeze.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I ignored the cat-calls of the mistress behind me, and the grinning faces of the latex clad ones in front of me. I began to sing.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I'm a little teapot,” I chanted. “Short and stout.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I tried to visualize my instructions, before putting them into practice. I turned forty-five degrees, sticking out my behind and putting my left hand on my butt-cheek.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Here is my handle. Here is my spout.” My second hand went to my face, finger resting on my lower lip.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">When I get all steamed up,” I sang as I rapidly spaced, my heels sounding like a typewriter.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hear me shout! Ooooh!” I moaned theatrically</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I froze in place. “Just tip me over...” I bent forward, raising my skirt teasingly, giving my audience a tantalizing view of the satin tent over my crotch. “...And pour me out.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The Mistresses burst out laughing and cheering. The sissies began to clap, though far less enthusiastically (better just to act along with the dominants, I reckon).</span></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Not that I paid much attention to the applause, for my act wasn’t over just yet.</span></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I'm a clever teapot, yes it's true,” I sang as I tiptoed around in my boots. I had no idea anymore what my instructions were at this point, if there even were any, so I just improvised. Hopefully, my tormentors wouldn’t notice in all the hilarity.</span></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Here's an example of what I can do.” I turned to the women who dragged me out here. I blew each one a kiss, though I mentally flipped them off.</span></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I can turn my handle to a spout.” I playfully tapped my behind, then raised my right arm towards the nearest red mistress as if I was offering her my hand.</span></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Just tip me over and pour me out,” I bobbed my legs in a curtsy, while keeping my hands were they were. And that was it.</span></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Woohoo! Encore! Encore!” the women called out. “We want more, we want more!”</span></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">One of the women looked at the sissies as she applauded me, and some immediately began cheering dutifully as well.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I let it come over me. What else could I do? So I just stood there in a properly demure pose as I received their praise, blushing furiously all the while.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A sharp sting burned across my behind, forcing out a startled yelp.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Are you deaf, pinkie?” One of my tormentors spoke right behind me, holding up the crop she had just used. “Your audience wants an encore. Better give it to them.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">So I did. I repeated my song and dance for the amusement of the mistresses present. They kept on laughing and cheering, urging the other sissies to clap along to the rhythm of my heels.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I finished my second performance, but the women still did not have enough. The woman right behind me made sure I got the message. I began my routine a third time.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Don’t let your sister have all the fun,” one of the mistresses in red latex called out to the other sissies. “Join in!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The response was not what you’d call eager. A cuff around the ear here, a slap on a behind there, and some stern shouting in general quickly fixed that.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">By the time I started my routine a fourth time, I was the impromptu leader of a song and dance troupe.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The other girls tried to follow my steps and sing my lyrics as well as they could. The mistresses prowled among us, making sure everyone ‘followed the pinkie’. During the sixth routine there was a semblance of organization and synchronicity.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">On one hand I was glad I no longer was the only one making a feminized fool of myself. Especially now were had drawn quite an impressive crowd. On the other hand, the glares I got from the other sissies hinted I hadn’t made any friends here today.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Finally, the women had their fill of our collective humiliation, and we were ordered to disperse. I looked at my three tormentors for confirmation, and they simply told me to get lost. I made sure I bobbed a properly respectful curtsey before getting the hell away from them. My heels had taken me halfway across the courtyard before I was ordered to stop.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">One Mistress, the Asian beauty who was now sitting next to me, told me that is was dangerous out there for pretty girls like me. She insisted to escort me to the dining hall. I just had enough time to force a ‘thank you’ through my grinding teeth before she grabbed my hand and pulled me along with her.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I had no idea what her intentions were, but even when she finally let go, she stayed closer to me than my own shadow. She stood right behind me when I got my diner (the same green gruel I had been force fed in the chair, but at least this time it was on a plate), and kept watching me as I ate (more like forcing mush down my throat, really).</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Back in the present, the oriental mistress was still tapping the handle of her cane thoughtfully, her eyes fixed on me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Then she gave an enigmatic smile.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Actually, my name is Jiang,” she told me. “Mistress Jiang Velvet for you, sissy. I introduced myself when we met. Normally, forgetting to properly address your betters would be an infraction. But you’re in luck, I like ‘Jade’. So you can call me Mistress Jade instead. Better not forget it, dum-dum.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And without another word, she got up from the table and left. She hadn’t even touched her own food (which looked much more palatable than mine, I might add. Too bad one of the sissies tasked with cleaning the tables quickly removed it).</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The rest of dinner time I spent consuming green goo and talking with my fellow sissies. I really was in no mood for chit-chat, but I had the misfortune one of the Yellow Ribbons was quite the blabbermouth, and since a sissy must always appear merry and inviting, giving her the silent treatment was no option. So I was drawn in a very important discussion about which accessories we’d should add to our uniforms, and if bows are hot or not.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I was almost relieved when it was time for me to head for the classroom for the evening lectures. Most of the other girls had to leave for their own training as well. In the bustle I bumped into another sissy. She was dresses in baby blue, marking her as one of the Blue Bonnets.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The ‘bluebells’, as they were often called, were considered to be the 'classy' type of sissy: trained to be proper young ladies. Their training was closest what female students would receive at an actual finishing school. Humiliation, degradation or other types of indoctrination were still part of their program, but mostly aimed at helping them realize they were no longer young men.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I immediately bobbed a proper curtsy, muttering a dutiful apology. The other sissy did likewise.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I didn’t recognize the face, at first, trapped inside that massive poke bonnet. But that hopeless curtsy was all too familiar…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Danielle?!” I cried out.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A dazed pair of eyes began to focus. “...Cheryl?” she answered.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The style of her dress could perhaps best be described as ‘Modern Victorian’: she wore a very tight short skirt that restricted the movements of her upper legs, which itself was partially covered by a voluminously folded dress with extra drapery above her behind, reminiscent of a classic bustle dress. Her torso was encased in a bodice that gave her a waspish figure, and I was sure she wore a corset underneath. Wide straps with lush embroidery fell over her shoulders, but left her upper arms and cleavage bare.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A pair of leather pumps with T-strap further restricted her steps. From these calf-length socks rose up, made from delicate sheer fabric with tiny bows on top. Her opera gloves were made of the same sheer fabric, but there the bows were tied around her wrists, her identification tokens kept in place by the ribbons.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">On her neck she carried a very tight choker, which was much more narrow than my own, but without any obvious locking mechanism. I had no idea how she would take it off, if she even could.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Her face was framed by the large bonnet that was the hallmark of her House. It didn’t cover her head completely, for it was pinned to her hair just before her ears, not obscuring an onlooker’s view on her beautiful brown hair. The wide brim did obstruct her own peripheral view though, and as a mean joke her words of shame were stitched on the inside, visible to her as it was to anyone else.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>Little Miss Hissy-Fit</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">, it read.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I didn’t know that title meant, and I did not ask. But last time I saw her, she was full of fury and anger at my betrayal, and she said terrible things in retaliation. Mutual hate was the only thing we had in common at that moment. But that fire had gone out. Whatever she did to earn her moniker, also had broken her. Now there was only reserved acceptance.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You look… well,” I said non-committal.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You too...” she replied just as weakly.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I could say a million things. Tell her I was sorry for ratting her out. Tell her how her venomous words had cut me. Pour my heart out to her and comfort her in turn.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But I didn’t. I just stood there, silently staring at her. And as the bustle of moving sissies and mistresses around us died out, I realized something:</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I did not care.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Danielle, who despite everything had become my best and only friend, was now a stranger to me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I saw her move her lips as if trying to form words, but nothing came out. Then her face froze in a bleak expression.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I need to go,” she finally said, and turned away.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I didn’t even watch her go. I just kept on staring in the distance as I fell in that black hole that had been cut deep into my soul.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I remembered what the Baroness had said: embracing femininity was becoming part of a great sisterhood. But that was a lie: why else had she ripped apart the connection I had with the only one I would have ever called ‘sister’.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">***********************************</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I saw Tiffany a day later. She was now dressed as a yellow maid. She and a couple of her sisters were being mercilessly drilled by several mistresses. I watched her for a moment (from a cautious distance), but couldn’t find much satisfaction in her tribulations.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">In fact, I was mildly jealous: at least she was getting attention. The only thing that managed to sooth the stupor I found myself in since meeting Danielle was the praise I got from my teachers and the more generous Mistresses. Any reprimands, punishments or abuse I simply accepted as an unavoidable fact of life.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Against the warnings of my sisters I began to wander about the school grounds without them. A lone Pink Panty among all those Mistresses… I could feel their merciless gaze follow me as I passed by. But whatever they wanted to do to me, for whatever reason they did not follow through. Nevertheless, it was terrifying, but I also felt a strange elation that was both alien and familiar to me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hi there, beautiful,” a gentle voice said, interrupting my musings.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I turned on my heels, and bobbed a pretty curtsey. “Greetings, Mistress Jade,” I said. “A pleasure to meet you.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Which was true, actually. Though our first encounter was strange, to say the least, Mistress Jade proved to be one of the nicer Mistresses around. Always complementing me when she saw me, and mostly gave me warnings when something was wrong with my uniform. Her very presence seemed to discourage the other Mistresses. Her appreciative look immediately lifted my spirits.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Thank you, cutie-pie. The pleasure is all mine,” she said with a smile. Then she tilted her head. “Are you alright, Cheryl Pink Panties. You seem troubled.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I fidgeted as I avoided her gaze, forcing a smile on my face. “It is nothing, Mistress. “This sissy is perfectly content, really.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Happiness was still mandatory for me, mind you.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She shook her head. “Oh come now, girl. I recognize the blues when I see it. No need to deny it; I will not hold it against you.” She gave me a warm look. “In fact, I have something that might cheer you up. Follow me.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Surprised, and also a bit curious, I followed her. It took some effort to keep up with her long strides in my towering heels, but I managed.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress? Where are we going?” I asked.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A favorite hang-out of mine.” she said over her shoulder. “It’s not far, girl. Just try and keep up.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I skittered behind her, and almost bumped into her when she suddenly stopped at a corner.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Careful girl,” she told me. “Priority cargo coming through.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">What..?” I stammered. “Priority Cargo? I don’t...”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Then my mouth fell silent and my eyes went wide.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I watched the ‘cargo’ round the corner. It consisted of a single sissy, flanked by two Mistresses. She wore a large, heavily boned corset in bright green that was so tight I wondered how she managed to draw breath.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Breathing was made even more difficult by the gag that covered her mouth, which undoubtedly forced something very long, hard and phallic between her teeth.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The ankle chains connecting her lace-up ankle boots was even shorter than mine, and for a moment I assumed the two Mistresses were simply offering her support.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Unfortunately for the girl, she was not that lucky; the women each held a chain that was connected to her wrist, forcing her lower hands outward while shackles on a thick leather waistband forced her upper arms to her sides.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Her hair was tied up with a wide bow. Her gaze was centered to the front. Not that she could do much else; her neck was encased in a frightening posture collar.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">With the sissy so extensively secured, you’d be inclined to think she was some sort of wild beast. But her eyes showed that there was no fight left in her.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Still, I’d recognize those eyes anywhere.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Suzy?!” I called out, much louder than was appropriate.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The two escorts stopped, and Mistress Jade gave me a quizzical look.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Friend of yours?” she asked me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Yes! I mean, no. Er… I mean, we were in the same novice class,” I said out, my eyes never leaving Suzy’s. She gave no sign of recognition.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">At least, until they took her to the nursery...” I added.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Aha,” Mistress Jade said knowingly.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">What happened to her?” I asked concerned. Where was the Suzy that had dared to stand up to Big Sister?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Jade looked at her colleagues, sharing a silent communion. One of the woman shrugged and turned to her ward, unbuckling her gag.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">...Ask her yourself,” Mistress Jade told me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The phallus slipped out of the poor girl’s mouth, who only now seemed to realize something had changed.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Suzy? Suzy!” I called out, unable to hide the fright in my voice. “Can you hear me? It’s me, Cheryl.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">...Cheryl?” she said, only now aware of my presence.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">From the novice class? Remember?” I said almost pleadingly. “Before they took you to the nursery?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Would you hurry it up, Pinky” one of the escorting women said . “She just had a long session in the crib and we need to get her to class while she is still warm.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I looked at the red-clad woman in disbelief, even forgetting to perform a proper bob.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Still warm? What? What’s the matter with her? What’s the crib?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The crib...” Suzy suddenly said, focus returning to her eyes.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I don’t want to go into the crib…” her words becoming more coherent. “I </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>never</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> want to go into the crib. So dark... The lullabies. Over and over. Whispering. Telling me...”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Her speech become more lively, but made no sense whatsoever.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“… <span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Where am I?” she suddenly said.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Ah, verdammt...” One of the women sighed annoyed. She held the chain tight, pulling it taut.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Whatever spell Suzy was under, it seemed to be broken now. She tried to move, though her bondage did not give her much leeway.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">What am I wearing?” I heard Suzy say. “Why can’t I move?!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Finally she noticed her wardens. “Who are you? Let go! Leave me alone!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Obviously they didn’t: but even in her extensive bondage did Suzy manage to put up a fight. The two women pulled hard as Suzy erupted in a full blown tantrum.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She cried. She cursed. She called for help and begged for release.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Could you </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>please</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> shut her up?” the red clad woman asked her colleague.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I’m a bit busy myself,” the other Mistress said.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Suzy finally recognized me. “Cheryl? Is that you? Help me! </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>Please!”</i></span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Can you give us a hand?” one of the escorts asked Mistress Jade.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Without a word, she turned to me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You heard her, Cheryl. Help her out.” she said without a hint of warmth.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I must have turned pale.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She can’t ask me to do this! I thought.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">...Let me go! Leave me alone!” Suzy continued “Cheryl! Help me!</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Miss Jade looked at me expectantly, and I answered her gaze. I cannot do this I said silently. Defiantly. I </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>won’t</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> do this.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hurry now, girl,” she said sternly.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">...And to my everlasting shame, my defiance instantly evaporated. I muttered a ‘yes, Mistress’, and turned to Suzy.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Cheryl! Help!” she called as I stepped right in front of her. “…Cheryl? What are you..? Wait! Stop! No! Donmmfh!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Surprised, shocked, Suzy forgot to clench her jaws shut. I had no trouble to push the gag into her mouth.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Humpfh! Humgh!” Suzy yelled into her gag. I kept the pressure on, making sure it stayed in.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">With Suzy blindsided by my actions, one of the Mistresses managed to get behind her to buckle up the straps. I kept pushing until it was safely secured.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Suzy kept resisting for a moment or two longer, but then her hissy-fit died down.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Thanks, Pinkie,” the woman in red latex told me before turning her charge.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Happy now, Suzy-poo? Better enjoy it then, because when Nurse Ratchett hears about this tantrum, she will be </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>most</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> displeased.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Suzy muttered something into her gag, but the two women ignored her, pushing her past Miss Jade and me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I got one final glimpse of Suzy’s eyes, and in them I read utter defeat...</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">++++++++++++++++</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I did not have time to think much about it though. Mistress Jade immediately called me to attention and ordered me to follow her again. She had smiled when she said it, but her warm smile had gotten a cold hard edge.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Staying upright (and properly cute) in my wicked heels demanded most of my mind’s processing power, But still I thought about what Mistress Jade had made me do to Suzy. Most likely she did not want to appear weak before her peers, but I could not shake the feeling Mistress Jade was not quite what she appeared to be.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Thank to my musings I again almost bumped into Mistress Jade. Then I noticed my surroundings: we had arrived at one of the imposing doors that led further into the complex that made up Miss Wyttebach’s finishing school.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It was also the border of how far sissies were allowed to wander.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Jade shot me a quick smile, then pulled out a keycard.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress, where are we going..?” I asked weakly.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She ignored my question as she swiped the card through an electronic lock, then typed in her access code on the keypad.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I heard a short buzz and a click, and the door swung open by itself.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Jade stepped through the doorpost, then turned towards me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Coming?” she asked casually.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My legs remained locked in place.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress? Er… sissies are not allowed out of the designated areas, are they?” I managed to utter.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She rolled with her eyes. “Oh, pish-posh. You are with me, aren’t you?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Well, yes, but...”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hurry up then,” she told me, then turned away and continued on down the hall.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Flabbergasted I watched her go. I considered either turning around and head back, or wait right there for her to return.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But my feet made the decision for me, and the clicking of heels on marble alerted me I was following Mistress Jade.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The corridor was much like those we had just left behind. I could hear activity further down, but aside from Mistress Jade and me it was empty.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I was very glad about that. I knew I shouldn’t be here, even while being chaperoned by Mistress Jade. If anyone else saw me here, I would be in a galaxy of trouble. Nevertheless, I didn’t leave Mistress Jade’s side.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">From the noise I realized we were approaching other people. Or they were approaching us. I felt my face burn with anxiety.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Jade’s hand suddenly shot upward, and pushed me gently on the chest, stopping me in my tracks.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I saw her prick up her ears. A thoughtful expression on her face.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It seemed she did not want to caught out here either…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">That way,” she urged pushing me towards the nearest door.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It was not locked, and Mistress Jade quickly pulled the handle, pushing me inside.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Another corridor, but completely different from the one we had just left: cold concrete walls illuminated by pale fluorescent lights. Clearly a service corridor behind the false facade of the opulent walls.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Down there,” Jade pointed, then gently pushing me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The corridor was to narrow for us to stand side-by-side, so I walked point.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Where are we going?” I asked once more. “What’s down there?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Some friend and I have put up a club-house, of sorts,” she said behind me. “Where we can chill without the school staff hounding us with their </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>rules, </i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">their</span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i> standards</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> and their </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>regulations</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Her conceited tone shocked me even more than her words, and I couldn’t help stopping in my tracks.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Who did she think who she was? The Baroness built this school. Ruled this school with her indomitable will. Her rules were law. Not even a Mistress-in-Training could disobey them.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A less than gentle push got me moving again, and I kept my mouth shut.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Feeling righteous indignation is one thing, arguing the point quite another: there was no Baroness in these lonely corridors, only a defenseless sissy and a Mistress who seemed to be getting more threatening by the minute.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The only sound I heard was the clicking of our heels, which echoed on the drab walls.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">...No, wait. There was something else. I tried to ignore the ‘tick-tick-tick’ of my mincing gait and listened.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Was that music?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Jade guided me deeper into these remote parts of the complex, the music getting louder with every step, until we turned a corner.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">In front of me was a very plain looking service door, much like several we had already passed, with a discrete sign that simply said “Schwarze Mantels”. A powerful beat pumped form invisible speakers in the room beyond.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Jade opened the door for me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">After you, pinkie,” she said with a grin as she shoved me inside.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I stumbled in my heels, and yelped as I lost balance. I felt myself tip over.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A pair of black clad hands grabbed me and arrested my fall.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Shocked and dazed, I looked at my surroundings. It clearly was some sort of utility room, with electrical boxes on one wall, while a complex system of pipes covered the opposite side.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Once, this room had been bare and inhospitable. However the room obviously had received a complete makeover. Or several, more likely.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The floor had been covered with a collection of carpets and rugs. Several worn couches and loveseats lined the walls, while a couple of different coffee tables stood nearby. The large fluorescent light on the ceiling had been turned off, with a bewildering collection of lamps and light providing illumination: from long string lights that gave a warm yellow-white glow, to colored disco lights. The net effect was a room that was submerged in a dream like twilight.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The music beat came from a couple of speakers that seemed comically large for this room. The drinks that were scattered on the tables probably came from the refrigerator at the far wall.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">In all, the room had the vibe of a sorority house. Rather cozy, in a haphazard sort of way.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But it was the Mistress who had caught me that I was transfixed by.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Bonjour, ma cheri,” Mistress Desiree said with a wide grin, holding me tight. “Fancy meeting you here.“</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I felt my face turning pale. I was so overwhelmed I did not even think to curtsy properly.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Desiree casually placed me back on my heels and adjusted my dress, while Mistress Jade closed the door behind me. Another Mistress was also in the room, her hair almost as crimson as her latex outfit.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Welcome to our little clubhouse,” Mistress Desiree told me as she slipped an arm around my waist. “It lacks the grandeur of the rest of the school, but the atmosphere is far more informal.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">There was a wicked glint in her eyes. “Here, anything goes.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Desiree turned me around, facing one of the couches.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Isn’t that right, my dear?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">For a second I thought she was addressing me, but I now realized she was facing the fluffy pink pile in the corner.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The pile moved on its own.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Tabitha?!” I cried out.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">What I first took for a stack of pillows was my indeed my house sister. Aside from her elaborate pink outfit, she was wearing a lot of bonds that were not part of her normal uniform: over her dress she wore some sort of harness that was covered in straps and D-rings. Her arms were tied behind her back and did not seem to allow any wiggle room.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Her Mary-James were tied together by a familiar ribbon, but now leather straps above and below her knees further hobbled her. Not that she was going anywhere: her leash had been tied to a pipe just behind her, keeping her firmly in her seat.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She might have acknowledged my presence, but I couldn’t be sure. She was unable to see me due to a blindfold that covered her eyes. The ballgag in her mouth prevented her from communication beyond moans and grunts.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">What are you doing here!?” I asked my gagged sister nonsensically.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hmmm?!” she responded, perhaps even recognizing me. It sounded like a sad whimper.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Desiree sniggered as she walked over to my bound sister, then gently stroked her cheek. “Tabitha Pink Panties is our guest, just like you. Unfortunately, she was much less inclined to accept our invitation. So we had to take some precautions to prevent her from making a scene.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">From a tiny pocket on het corset, she pulled out the skeleton key every Mistress carried with her.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Now then Tabitha, if your sweet little friend Cheryl unties you, will you behave?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Tabitha uttered a soft whine through her gag, but nodded slowly.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Good. Catch, sissy.” She casually threw the key in my direction, which I clumsily dropped, almost causing it to slide underneath the couch. The red mistress laughed.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hastily I picked up the key and minced over to Tabitha. “Turn left,” I told her so I could reach the lock. “No my left… right.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Fumbling the key in my gloved hand, my upper arms still locked together by the ribbon-covered chain, I has a hell of a time getting the tiny key in the even tinier lock, especially as that stupid girl did not stay still, but eventually I heard the satisfying click of release.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">With one hand loose, she managed to take the key and uncuff the other. She had some difficulty unbuckling her ballgag, but managed to get it out.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Took you gals long enough,” Mistress Jade said as she pushed me. Unbalanced by my high heels, I tipped over and with a yelp fell face-first on the couch, right next to Tabitha. “Have a seat.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Let’s get this party started,” the red Mistress whose name I never caught said, pulling out a bottle of liquor and several glasses from a cabinet.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">++++++++++++++++++++++++++</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The party, as they called it, was not too bad. We all sat next to one-another; Jade, me, Desiree, Tabitha, and the red mistress, though much closer than I was comfortable with.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Desiree had her arms greedily around me and my sister, while Mistress Jade had my bare legs lying on her lap. The red woman’s hand were hidden somewhere underneath Tabitha’s skirt.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">They fondled us, teased us, and occasionally put a glass on our lips to pour some burning liquid down our throats, but otherwise seem to ignore Tabitha and me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Ad fundum!” I heard them call out as I downed another shot, making me cough.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The mistresses continued chatting amongst themselves (in French, so I had no idea what they were talking about). Every now and then a question or remark was directed at me or Tabitha, but it was just to tease us or keep us on our toes. They hushed me when I spoke without being spoken to, or simply for being tedious.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“…<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">and I do believe that bras are the best invention ever,“ I said dutifully, forcing a pretty smile on my face. “Except for high heels, of course. And panties. And…”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Oh </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>shut up</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">, girl! Nom de Dieu, you are dim. Here, have another sip. It is not like you have any braincells you can lose.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Given the circumstances, I couldn’t communicate with Tabitha. I could hardly look at her without drawing attention, but it was clear her discomfort was not just caused by a pair of hands that were very near to her privates. She had been trained well, and her behavior was properly sissy-like, but her eyes kept wandering to a nondescript door at the far end of the room.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Good idea,” one of the women suddenly said. “An appetizer before the main course. Up, girls.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It took me a moment to realize she was talking to us. Then I heard a loud ‘smack’, and pain shot through my upper leg. I yelped.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Are you deaf, sissy?” Mistress Jade said angrily, holding the cane she’d just used on me. “Get up, and stand at attention.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I hurriedly got on my feet, and Tabitha quickly followed my example. We struck our prissy-sissy pose, looked down, and waited.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The three women, looked us up and down. Mistress Desiree’s crop went to a fold in my skirt that I did not straighten properly, but she didn’t reprimand me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Raise your skirt, girls,” she finally said.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">We obeyed, naturally. Holding the hem of my skirt between index-finger and thumb, I presented my panties for inspection.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">What have we here?” the red clad mistress said. “A bulge? Someone is enjoying this a bit too much.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I blushed. She was talking about me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">This one hasn’t,” mistress Jade said. “How dull. Help her out, Cheryl.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Startled, I looked up “Mistress?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You heard her, stupid girl,” Desiree said menacingly. “Face one-another.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">We turned on our heels towards each other, and I saw Tabitha’s skin-deep smile. Her panties were visible for all to see, but it was like I saw her adorable appearance that struck me the most. It was like I saw her for the first time; her dress, heels, hair and make-up… Her male origins were completely hidden under her silk prison.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I felt the pressure in my own panties rise.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Doesn’t she look wonderful, Cheryl?” the Asian beauty asked.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Yes Mistress Jade,” I replied truthfully. “Tabitha Pink Panties is a very pretty girl.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And Cheryl is cute too, is she not, Tabitha?” The woman said.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Yes, Mistress. Cheryl is a beautiful sissy,” I heard my sister say as I looked into her wide blue eyes.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Desiree’s grinned. “Kiss her.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress?” Tabitha and I asked in unison.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The black-clad woman leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. “Bend over, and kiss each other on the mouth. Stick your tongues in deep, and wiggle it around. Don’t stop until we say so, girly-girls.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Despite my training, I hesitated. We both did. Despite her appearance, I was acutely aware that underneath her outfit Tabitha was not a real girl. And that evoked a deep and primal aversion that I hadn’t shaken off, and probably never will.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Yet, as I stood there in my ultra-feminine outfit, arms and ankles still shackled by chains, the maid’s cap pinned to my curly hair, looking at a girl almost as pretty as me, it did not take long for my drilled sissy-persona to regain control. And our lips touched.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Her lips were as soft as I had imagined them to be. Her recalcitrant tongue attempted to enter my mouth as mine wrestled to enter hers. Still holding up my skirt, I longed to touch her feminine body, and imagined her hand stroking the inside of my leg.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Only I wasn’t imagining anything; a hand was going up my leg. Long nails on soft fingers indicated it was Mistress Jade. Another reached around me and stroked my tummy. Gently first, then harder. I felt warmth radiate from it..</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I opened my eyes, and I could just see the red mistress right behind Tabitha. Her hand were once more under the girl’s skirt. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but I heard Tabitha grunt softly.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My posture was not a particular comfortable one, but I remained still, only my lips moving as I tasted Tabitha. And the shivers that went through me under Jade’s touch.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I tried to ignore everything except my house sister, but mistress Jade did not make it easy. She leaned in, her hand going into my panties as she kissed me on the neck, then gently bit me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I can only imagine Tabitha was undergoing a similar treatment, as I felt her tremble.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Jade’s other hand went down from my belly, past my skirt, to my groin. She gently massaged the bulge that stood out from my panties and diaper.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Oooh, I heard you were easy, but not that you were so… eager,” the Asian beauty whispered in my ear.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Her velvet gloves poked underneath the fabric of my underwear, touching the bare skin of my bottom and my clitty. I felt my legs shiver, unsteady on my heels, and Jade pulled me against her groin as if to stabilize me. And all this time I tasted Tabitha in my mouth.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Desiree said something that I did not understand, then suddenly nailed fingers pulled down my panties. It startled me, and despite myself I squealed softly. Chains still bound my legs, so the mistress didn’t bother taking it off completely; she just dropped it around my ankles.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The fingers were not yet done, but had lost their gentle touch. Roughly, Jade reached for the plug in my behind and pulled it out. It hurt, making me groan, and inadvertently I turned my head away from Tabitha, biting my lip. Then I heard a ‘plop’, and suddenly an awkward burden that I had never gotten used to was gone.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The tip of a crop pushed against my cheek, turning be back towards Tabitha. “I didn’t say stop, now did I, pinkie?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Moh, Mimfrs,” I said with Tabitha’s tongue in my mouth.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Enough with the foreplay,” mistress Jade said, slapping my bare bottom. “Suit up, ladies.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Here. Catch,” Desiree called as she threw something at her colleagues.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Standing lip-to-lip with Tabitha, I couldn’t see what it was. But then I felt something move between my legs…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It gently stroked my skin, until it reached my groin. I felt how a long hard rod passed underneath my sissy-hole to reach the underside of my clitty, its tip tickling my own erect member.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Keep it there, Cheryl, while I buckle up,” Mistress Jade said behind me. As I pressed my thighs together, I knew I was holding up a strap-on between my legs.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Are the girls ready?” Desiree asked impatiently. “I want to get some.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Wait a minute,” the red mistress said behind Tabitha, her hands still under my sister’s skirt. “This pinkie is a bit shy, she’s gone completely limp.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">What’s the matter, Tabitha? Thinking about the boiler room? Or doesn’t Cheryl tickle your fancy anymore?” Mistress Desiree sniggered. “Well, the latter we can fix. Cheryl, be a dear and give Tabitha a hand.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Wait… what?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Confused, I let go of the hem of my dress and held up my hand for Tabitha to shake, all without interrupting our intimate kiss.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Desiree barked a laugh. Mistress Jade cuffed me around the ears.</span></span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Yúchǔn de niángniáng qiāng!” the latter snarled. “Do we need to draw you a picture? Give your limp sister… a hand.”</span></span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">What!? I thought, breaking contact with Tabitha. But I was grabbed by my hair and pushed back to my previous position. My scream was smothered by my sister’s mouth.</span></span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Desiree came close and whispered sternly in my ear. “Listen girl, you are going to make sure that Tabitha’s pathetic little clitty is properly erect. You can use your hand ‘cause I do not want to taste any cum on your lips, but if you do not succeed in three minutes you </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>will</i></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> use that pretty mouth of yours.”</span></span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Don’t be shy, Cheryl,” the red mistress told me. “Tabitha won’t mind. In fact, she’d love it.”</span></span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The tears that began to roll down her cheeks told me a different story.</span></span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I hesitated. How could I not? So much had happened to me, was done to me, but never did I have to jack off another man.</span></span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Jade pinched my behind, a tingle shot through my rear. She unlocked one of the cuffs that bound my upper arms.</span></span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">...But I wasn’t a man anymore, now was I?</span></span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I became aware of the smell of Tabitha’s perfume, saw the contours of her feminine face. I thought about her dress, her heels, her panties…</span></span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">...And neither was Tabitha…</span></span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My hand moved underneath her pretty dress, searching, and through the stiff leather of my gloves I touched her clitty.</span></span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I pulled my hand back as if I had just touched a hot stove. I forced myself to touch it again, and to pretend I was touching a female and not a guy’s pecker.</span></span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Tabitha gave a soft yelp and squirmed a bit as I touched her, but the red Mistress kept her in place. Simultaneously, Jade fiendishly urged me on. “That is it, girl. Touch her. Feel her. You know you want to...”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">With the both of us bending over her clitty was at the end of my reach, fingertips barely touching the tip, so the two mistresses gently pushed us towards one-another. Two pairs of stilettos clicked under our tiny steps, until we were standing toe to toe. And thigh to thigh.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Now I could easily reach under her skirt. I had a much better grip on the alien object in my hand. It was already getting harder, more rigid. I could feel a pulsing beat underneath my fingertops.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Jade had finished buckling-up her strapon, and teasingly moved it underneath my groin. “Excite her,” she told me. “Tease her, get her hard. But </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>do not</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> let her come, Cheryl. Every drop she spills, you’ll lick up.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mmf...”I said in acknowledgement, my mouth still filled with Tabitha Pink Panties. We had been kissing passionately for a while now, and my jaw started to ache. But I could only think about how I was holding her sissy-clitty. And about her...</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I moved my gloved hand along the shaft of her hard clitty, slowly, making sure not to get her too excited. Gradually, the feeling became less and less alien and more natual, more right.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Without me realizing it, my other hand had found its way to her narrow waist. Hers now rested om my shoulder. And on my behind, I realized as she squeezed it.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I moved my hand faster, holding her clitty tighter. Tabitha gasped softly, and her tongue redoubled its efforts in my mouth. Her hands grasped me tight.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I felt unsteady on my heels, my own clitty straining against my diaper and panties. Some part of me seemed to watch myself with utter bafflement: what the hell was I doing? The rest was completely subsumed by my sissy persona and found strange conform in pleasing my sister.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Tabitha was moaning now, and her whole body was as rigid as her clitty. I picked up the pace and…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Twack!</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">With my sisters tongue still down my throat, I yelped, feeling the burn where the slapjack hit my thigh.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Stop that, girl!” Mistress Jade snarled at me. “I told you not to let her come! Or do you want her cum in your mouth?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Spell broken, I pulled back from Tabitha as if she was radioactive. “No Mistress Jade,” I said will trying to ignore her taste in my mouth.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Really?” the Asian mistress said as I realized she still rested her strapon against my legs, dangerously close to my sissy-hole. “I would have expected a girl like you loves a big cock in her mouth,” she spoke teasingly. “And I’m sure you’d swallow. Shall we find out?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I don’t know if I turned red or pale.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The redheaded mistress sniggered. “Come on. Let’s get them inside.” She gave Tabitha a shove towards the door that led to the boiler room, the poor girl barely keeping upright.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You heard the lady,” Jade spoke as she grabbed my leash. “Time to find out if you are all you are cracked up to be.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She gave my leash a tug and I was turned towards that dreaded door.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It loomed large in my field of vision. I did not want to go there, but with Mistress Jade keeping my leash taut my feet refused to stop moving.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But I was not the only one scared.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Tabitha started to cry. “No. No. No, please no,” she pleaded.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hush girl,” the red mistress spoke, forcefully grabbed my sister by the arm.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But it did not help; Tabitha was starting to freak out. She began to shout. And and struggle.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Let me go!” she yelled as she tried to pull fee, feverishly looking around. “Let me out. I want out of here!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Her eyes fell on me. They radiated dread. For a moment my own fears were gone and I felt only concern for my sister. “Help me, Cheryl!” she cried. “Help! Please!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I returned a dismayed look, dumbstruck. A chilling fear gripped my heart. I was afraid. Afraid for Tabitha. And for me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I wanted to do something. Help her. But what? How? Should I break fee? Make a run for it? Drag her with me?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Jade tightened her grip on my leash, as if she heard my thoughts.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The red mistress called Samantha struggled to bring Tabitha to heel, trying to get a good grip and pin her down.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Whether it came from some untapped reservoir of courage, or simple desperation, the struggling Tabitha pulled her arm free and took a swipe at the red mistress. It hit her right in the face.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Time seemed to have frozen. Did that just happen? Everyone was dumbstruck. Me. The Mistresses. And Tabitha most of all.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The Red Mistress’ expression went from surprised to furious. “Why you little bitch!’ She snarled as she grabbed Tabitha’s arm and with the power of rage twisted it around, forcing the poor girl on her knees.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Tabitha’s courage was ow spent, but she still put up a desperate fight. Mistress Samantha shot an angry glance at Mistress Jade who was nearest to her. “A little help, if you don’t mind?” she said annoyed.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Jade overcame her surprise as well. She threw my leash at Desiree. “Hold this!” She hurried over to Tabitha.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Tabitha was now fighting a hopeless battle, and mostly cried as she ineffectually tried to get out of the red mistress’ grip.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Then Jade was on her, and began softening her up with her slapjack. She hit Tabitha on the behind, her legs, and a nasty slap at the back of the head.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Samantha grunted as she pulled Tabitha’s arms together, towards the cuffs of the harness she was wearing. Jade slapped her once, twice, and then locked the cuffs around her wrists.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Got her,” she said.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Good,” the red woman snarled. She let go of Tabitha’ arms, but grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back, forcing her to look her in the eyes. “I hope this little stunt was worth it, pinky,” she spoke threateningly. “Because now it’s my turn.” She pulled out her own whip.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Now Mistress Jade held the girl in place as the red woman reasserted her dominance, and vented some steam in the process. After every strike she tightened a buckle, strap or lace of Tabitha’s outfit, so that quickly she was completely immobilized.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I could only watch Tabitha getting manhandled. Unconsciously, I had moved closer to Mistress Desiree. Somehow, she had become the least frightening figure in the room. I hadn’t even noticed she had put her arm around me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Squeezed by her own uniform, Tabita’s cries turned to grunts, then were silenced completely as the Red Mistress unkindly shoved her ballgag in her mouth. Then the redheaded woman slapped the girl in her face, similar to how Tabitha struck her, but far more vicious.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Only tears and pained moans now remained for the girl.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Let’s get her inside,” Jade said as she regained her haughty composure.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She turned to Desiree, who was still holding my leash. “Give us a moment. Let’s do this one first.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Desiree nodded.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The red mistress opened the door to the boiler room. It was made of metal; heavy, solid and foreboding. The room beyond was poorly lit and I could not see whatever terrors lurked inside, but Tabitha’s unwillingness to enter was proof enough.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Tabitha’s no longer resisted, but the two women were not kind with her as they half-dragged-half-shoved the bound girl into the boiler room. I heard one more moan of dismay, then with a loud bang the door was slammed shut and she was gone.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Desiree chuckled. “Oh, I know that look. Samantha’s got her blood boiling. It will take a while before it is your turn.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She tugged at my leash, forcing me to look at her. “So, what shall we do in the meantime?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I was trapped in her gaze, but my mind only thought of the steel door. “What… would you like?” I heard myself say weakly.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A wry smile appeared on her face. She turned around and walked over to the nearest couch. With a sharp tug on my leash she bade me to follow.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She sat down, and pulled me towards her. Firmly, but not unkind, he sat me down on her lap.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Her hands went under my skirt, found the edge of my panties, and probed underneath the fabric. Desiree’s eyes radiated a hungry glee.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">What I would like? Well, I would like to ravish you, cherie” she said with a kind voice totally at odds with her words. “But I’m afraid then nothing would be left of you for my friends.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Loud thumping suddenly came from the boiler room.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I gasped. Perhaps because the sound startled me. Or perhaps because Desiree’s touch was surprisingly electrifying…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I tried to collect my thoughts as she worked her way to my clitty. Not once did it relax, and now it was hers to use.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I swallowed hard as I tried to ignore her soft grip. “…perhaps you.. do not… ungh… need to share,” I managed to mutter.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She paused her movement for a moment, a look of amusement in her eyes. Her other hand went to the back of my head and firmly drew me closer to her face. She was a nose length away when she began teasing me again.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I that so?” she said bemused. “And why wouldn’t I let my dear friend have their turn? Once I had you, and took my fill, what use are you to me then? Old news while every month fresh sissies arrive for me to peg.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Bashfully, I tried to avoid her gaze. Her words, dreadful as they were, made sense. A Black Cloak like her surely could have every sissy she wants. What made me anything special?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">One hand went down my back and to my rear, softly stroking me as it went. And she continued teasing me under my skirt; my clitty was now really hard and pushed against my diaper, but she made sure I would not climax. I moaned half in extasy, and half in frustration.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And then it hit me: ravishing me was not enough for her. Perhaps not even her real goal: it was power she really wanted. She wanted to dominate.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I am not like the other girls,” I blurted out. “Other sissies break if you push them too far, but I can take it.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Miss Wachter’s psych-report on me came to mind. “You can do whatever you want with me and I’d still love you. The teachers call me a spring; put any amount of force on me, and I just return te right amount of resistance. What other sissy can do that?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Desiree did not take her hands off me, but they had suddenly frozen in place.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Who else but you deserve a sissy like that? Do you really want to waste me on other mistresses? Casting a pearl before swine, I think.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I wiggled my behind a little, pushed out my breasts and slightly kicked one leg keeping my mouth open a bit as I exhaled. A gentle action that I’d learned and was told was surprisingly tempting. Not just for Desiree, mind you; this mild show of submission enabled me to almost believe what I was saying. Sissythink works best if you act the part. And Mistress Desiree was a gorgeous woman, so I the thought of being in her hands actually caused butterflies in my stomach.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Desiree eyed me with interest; if she doubted my sincerity, she did not show it.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Is that so?” she simply said, eyes piercing into mine.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I fluttered my eyelashes, giving her a cute bashful look. “Apologies, Mistress. Blowing her own horn is very unbecoming for a sissy. This girl should n… whoaaa!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I tumbled on the couch, after Desiree threw me off her lap. “You’re a smooth talker, pinky, I’ll give you that,” she said. “But actions speak louder than words. Let’s see you back them up.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Surprised and startled, any infatuation I felt for this amazon had evaporated, and as she leaned over me I felt like a deer in the headlights. “So you want to be mine?” I heard her say. “Well, be careful what you wish for.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She pushed her lips on mine, and her tongue wormed its way into my mouth.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I felt her tug my leash, pulling me upright. Not once did her tongue stop probing me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I gasped for air when she finally pulled back.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Forward, girl. On your knees,” she told me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">In my mean boots with the towering heels, a ribbon connecting the ankles, that was not straightforward at the best of times. But now I was flush with both apprehension and a little desire, and I was outright clumsy.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A sharp ‘thwack!’ on my inner thigh and a little push forward hurried up the process, as I ungracefully fell on my knees.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I yelped. “Today please,” Mistress Desiree replied impatiently, holding her crop.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">With practiced efficiency, she grabbed my wrists and brought them together behind my back. With her thumb she pushed my hand in a wrist lock (standard procedure just in case a sissy intends to become unruly), and then I heard metal-on-metal as she chained my cuffs together.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But she wasn’t done; she took hold of the ribbon between my ankles, and looped it several times around each leg, effectively tying my feet close to one-another.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Her crop struck my behind. “All done,” she said contently as I cried out.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She stood in front of me admiring her handiwork. Hands on her hips, weight on one leg, her black leather outfit perfectly accentuated her hourglass figure. In another life, I could only dream of a women like her. As a subjugated sissy, she remines me of a coiling serpent.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A hard slap in my face interrupted my musings. “No eyeballing, girl” She said casually. At least she hadn’t used her crop.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Eyes front, while I get ready. No peeking.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She walked around me, her crop playfully stroking the exposed flesh of my leg.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Bound, subjugated and perfectly sissified, I could only wait as I heard her rummage through some cupboard.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">No… No… Hell no…” I heard her mutter. Then she barked a laugh. “Oh, this is </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>perfect</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I fought the temptation to glance in her direction. If my training hadn’t kicked in, then the thought of her crop and a sense of self-preservation certainly would have.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I heard her fiddle with the item she found. My heart was starting to pound, and my discomfort increasing. Surely she had found some horrible contraption she would subject me to. And there was nothing I could do to prevent it.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Her heels thudded on the carpet as she walked over towards me, and a slight panic came over me. I began to feel an urge to jump up and make a run for it, and my bonds suddenly felt much more restricting, as if they picked up on it. I tried not to whimper. Then Mistress Desiree stepped in front of me, and…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">…<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">nothing. Well, not nothing, she was wearing a strapon, but a rather modest one. Mistress Margot had subjected me to worse. Quite a relief. Almost anti-climactic, really.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Desiree, proudly stroked the shaft of the rod. “You like it?” she asked me half-domineering, half-giddy.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“…<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Well… Actually… Yes, Mistress,” I replied sincerely. I still didn’t like the thought of getting pegged by a strapon, of course, but all things considered this didn’t look so bad.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Now then, Cheryl Pink Panties. You want to be mine, and mine alone? Want me to protect you from those other mean mistresses? For which I only require… your undivided attention?” She said that last bit rather ominously.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I gulped. I got wat I wanted, but did I really want what I got? Still, I was in no position to back out now.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Yes, Mistress Desiree,” I heard myself say.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She pointed the strapon at my face. “Then let’s seal the deal, honey.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I took a deep breath, and parted my lips. I took the tip in my mouth.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It tasted funny. Unlike any other dildo I had tasted before. Most were made from rubber. Whether they were soft and floppy, or hard enough to be cut from a tractor tire, they all had that typical sharp flavor. My ivory-colored lollipop hardly had any flavor at all, like it was cut from glass (perhaps it really was polished ivory?).</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But this was something else. More like… latex? Sillicone? Don’t know. But it was a flexible material, with some hard parts at the center. And what were those spots I felt with my tongue? Was that metal?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But I had been drilled thoroughly and incessantly in fellatio, so some unfamiliar material did not bother me. I gently moved my lips further along the shaft and… Oof!</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hurry up, will you?” Desiree said as she rammed the penetrator deeper. She grabbed my hair and tugged hard while she pushed her hips.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Humpfh!” I protested, my practiced technique rudely interrupted.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The pulled and pushed until my lips touched her harnass. I was glad the stapon was not particularly big, preventing me from gagging.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Forcefully, Mistress Desiree began to move the dildo in and out, still holding me tight. I heard her gasp, and began to suspect there was another extremity at her own end.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She moved the strapon in and out, while I did my best to use my lips and tongue as a sissy should.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Comfy?” She finally asked as she fucked my mouth.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Huff,” I replied noncommittal.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Then, suddenly, a bright flash struck me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">… <span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">What the hell was that, I grunted, dazed and confused. I felt thunder roll across my face, skin tingling.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">How about now?” Mistress Desiree asked casually.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I tried to look up at her face, her hand keeping me firmly impaled on her strapon.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">What just happened, I tried to say despite the cock in my mouth. But instead there was another flash; no, an explosion. In my mouth.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I didn’t say stop, did I?” Mistress Desiree told me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Perplexed at what just happened, I tried to regain my composure, but failed.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Just a little shock,” Desiree said. “Nothing serious. A pinprick, really. To spice things up a bit.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I tried to think. A shock? What? Huh?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She help a sort of remote where I could see it. Two light were green: ‘power on’, and ‘charged’.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Ever had cock yet?” Desiree asked me. “Not the fake you have in your mouth right now, but real, flesh and blood dick? Warm, throbbing, slick and tantalizing. Don’t answer that; you are not done with this fake one yet. Put some effort into it. Anyway, a dildo is a poor substitute. Inert. Dead even. It just doesn’t tickle the nerves like the real thing.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Another flash. A lightning bolt ran across my tongue and over my lips. I moaned. Not from pain, not really, but from surprise and unfamiliar sensations.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“…<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">but if you add a little electricity, all those bored nerve-endings suddenly begin to sparkle.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My eyes went wide. Electricity? She </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>shocked</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> me?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I looked up to her grinning face. Triumphantly she held up the remote. “pretty neat gizmo, huh?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I panicked, pulling my head back to get that… thing… out of my mouth, but Mistress Desiree firmly held me in place.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Oh no, sweetheart. You haven’t even experienced its other functionality. Watch this.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The pushed a button on the remote. I expected another shock, but nothing happened. Then I felt a buzzing in the shaft of the penetrator. Was it a vibrator?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Then it began to get bigger…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It also contains several solenoid actuators. I have no idea what those are, but apparently they can extend a dildo. And move in remarkable ways.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The rod now was almost twice as long, making me want to gag. And it stated to wiggle around. I felt like an anaconda was trying to crawl into my mouth!</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hummpf!” I cried out in dismay.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Desiree moaned in extasy. Her end clearly as lively as mine.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Then, suddenly, she pulled out of me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Awesome, isn’t it?” she said as she wiped away a stray lock of hair.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Awesome isn’t the word I had in mind. Still, I tried to smile. “Yes, Mistress,” I said with forced enthusiasm. “If that would be all? This sissy has to report back to…”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She barked a mean laugh. “What? You think we are </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>done</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">? Stupid girl, this was just foreplay. Now that this thing is nice and slick, it is time for the main event.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I held my tongue, but must have pulled a sour face. “I did tell you I wanted your undivided attention, didn’t I?” she said with a satisfied smirk. “For my favor, you sold yourself to me. That makes you a whore. A slutty whore. But you are my whore now...”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She pushed a button on the remote, and it extended to its full length. “…and I will claim my due.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Her mean words cut deep, for she had a point. My emotions couldn’t take it, and I began to some uncontrollably.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hey now, no tears girl. I never said you wouldn’t enjoy it. Up now.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She pulled my leash and used the crop to give a tap on my behind. Despite my bounds arms and legs, I managed to get on my heels, still whimpering as I went.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Oh quiet now,” she said annoyed, “you’re ruining the mood.” She grabbed my pacifier and shoved it in my mouth, stifling my sobs.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Much better,” she said with a content smile. Another strike with her crop told me to pay attention.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Stand still,” she said as she raised my skirt and pulled my panties and diaper down. I whimpered as they fell around my bound ankles.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Oh my,” she said with a remarkably sweet laugh. “Someone is enjoying herself quite a lot.” Her gloved hands went around my hips and towards my erect clitty. I blushed vigorously.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My is a lot bigger, though,” she whispered in my ear. I felt the strapon push against my behind.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I yelped as I was swept off my feet, and when I regained my senses I looked up to Mistress Desiree. The Amazon in black Leather help my bound form in her hands, carrying me like a babe.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Are all European women this strong, or only the ones I meet?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Now, relax, honey,” she said with a smile that radiated an amalgamation of passion and wickedness..</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Confused, I squirmed in her grip, kicking my legs and grunting in my gag, then I went down again. And I was impaled.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I groaned in my gag as the dildo pushed into me, moving past the sphincter before I realized I was being penetrated. Mistress Desiree had sat down on the couch, and put me on her lap, expertly placing be right on top of her toy.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I groaned, I moaned, I squirmed and struggled, but the dildo was in and would remain in.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Calm now, pinkie-pie,” Mistress Desiree cooed. “Take it easy. Let the fun-wand do its magic.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I didn’t want to take it easy; I wanted to freak out. I wanted to get out of this madhouse. I wanted to scream and cry and kick and run. But my insane pink outfit, my bonds, my gag, all conspired to keep me silent and in place. And all the while the strapon remained in my rear.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Desiree was hardly bothered by my obstinance, shifting me around a bit to make herself more comfortable (and me, admittedly).</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Finally, she was done, and I stopped my struggling. I just looked pleadingly at Desiree.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She just smiled at me, and pushed the buttons on the remote. “Here we go,” she added.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My throat seemed to constrict, and I watched a light turn green. I braced for the shock.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Lighting struck, and there was an explosion. I cried out.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">No, I didn’t cry, I moaned.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It… didn’t hurt. Well, a bit, but it was… remarkable. My every sense in my nether-regions buzzed with ebullience. My sissy-hole tingled. My clitty twinkeled. Every muscle in my waist felt a tight pressure followed by a radiating and relaxing warmth. I gasped for breath.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Now the dildo began to move; It extended. It retracted. It wriggled and moved about, stimulating pressure points in me I didn’t even know existed.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Gumh. Ungfh. Oompfh.” I muttered into my gag.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I think she likes it,” Desiree said contently. Her strong form had become soft and relaxed as she enjoyed how the device worked on her.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Following some set program, the strapon worked on the both of us. Pushing and moving, zapping and wriggling, I could only struggle in my bonds as it filled me with a tiring energy. I laughed and cried, both sad and happy as I was subjected to a wicked delight that I was not prepared for and could not process.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Another zap, and I squirmed. I wiggled my bound legs, pulled at my cuffs, and tried to wiggle my behind as a sissy should. Through a haze I saw myself, in my pink sissy-outfit, sitting on a domineering Mistress, getting ravaged by her, and somehow everything seemed right in the world. Then, all this pent up energy sought release, and I came.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I soiled my petticoats and my legs, but I didn’t care. I was spent, but the dildo was still working on me and filling me up for another round.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I found myself leaning in against Mistress Desiree, as a submissive lover seeking comfort in a strong chest or shoulder. I didn’t mind how her hands were now on me; On my back and on my chest, stroking my false boobs. Under my skirt, feeling my butt and stroking my legs. I didn’t mind her cute laugh when she found the sticky spots near my groin, and I definitely did not mind her gloved hand stroking my clitty again.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The gag dropped out of my mouth. I hadn’t even noticed she had untied it. With a soiled hand she grabbed my chin and turned my head towards her. She kissed me passionately, her tongue entering my mouth like a excited serpent. The movements of the dildo were but a pale imitation of the power I felt and tasted in her tongue.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Through a fog of passion and forbidden lust I was dimly aware of a noise; metal on metal. A click of an opening lock, and the groan of a heavy door opening.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The clicking of heels, and two shadows appeared at the edge of my vision. One in a stylish violet dress, the other in bright red latex.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It’s her turn,” Mistress Jade told Désirée.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She gave an annoyed grunt in reply, then pulled her tongue from my mouth. “Get lost. We’re busy,” she told her colleague, waving them away.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hey, you’ve had her long enough,” the red mistress said annoyed. “I want to have a go.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I said, get lost,” Mistress Desiree snapped. “This one is mine.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Like hell she is,” Mistress Jade said annoyed “I brought her here, I’ve got dibs on her.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The dildo still was stimulating me, the both of us, but while I was lost in time and space I felt how Mistress Desiree had crashed back to earth because of this rude interruption.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Possessively she wrapped her hands around me, and I felt the steel wringing hidden under her soft flesh.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You can have Tabitha,” she replied angrily.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">We already had her!” The latex clad mistress said. “Several times. We want to try this one. Besides, I thought </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>you</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> wanted Tabitha?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">That brought me back to attention: where was Tabitha? How was she? What had they done to her?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Somehow Desiree must have noticed my disquiet, because she pushed her hand firmly over my mouth. Clearly, I was to take no part in this argument.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Listen very carefully,” Desiree told her companions, “Cheryl is mine, do you understand? No get out until I call you!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">We had an agreement!” Mistress Jade snarled.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Do I need to remind you I am the First Chair? Do I need to kick you out of the Cloacks?” Desirees furious tone could not hide the shudder that went through her after another zap.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Jade bared two rows of pearl-white teeth, but said nothing. Instead she turned on her heels and paced back towards the boiler room, muttering something I assumed were very nasty curses in her native language.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The red mistress glared at Desiree, then followed her Asian colleague. The door to the boiler room slammed shut and me and Mistress Desiree were once again alone.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I felt how Desiree began to relax, and he let go of my mouth. She smiled at me and stole a quick kiss.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Now, where were we? Shall we turn it up a bit?” She said with a grin and wink.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I was picked up, and I groaned at the dildo was pulled out of me. With quick movements the laid me down the couch on my back, and pushed some pillows under my lower back to raise my behind a bit higher and take the strain of my tied arms. She pushed my tied legs upward until they pointed straight at the ceiling, leaning with her torso against them while she sat on her kees right below me. Her strapon was now hidden from my view by my own legs, but I felt it push against my sissy-hole while a beaming black leather clad amazon was about to take her due from me in a new and inventive ways.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">+++++++++++++++++++++++++++</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">If the time I spent impaled by Mistress Desiree was spent in a daze, I now was trapped in the black fog of a pounding hangover.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Time with her was fluid. I have no idea how long I was with her, but eventually she had her fill. She pulled out of me, threw me off the couch (or was it the table? We changed positions several times), wiped some of my stickiness off her hands with my cheeks and told me to get out. She called for her fellows and from the boiler room the two Mistresses came out escorting a very disheveled Tabitha.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">They cleaned us up, a bit. Mistress Desiree roughly slid my plug back into place, pulled up my diaper and panties, and uncuffed my wrists. She left my standard bondage in place, however. Then she put the pacifier back, because why not? Tabitha was released from her harness and put back in her uniform. Her ball-gag never left her mouth. Then as a parting gift they tied our leashes together then shooed us out of the room and into the drab service corridors.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">So here we were, two frilly pink sisters of our sorority, collars tied together and hobbled by our outfits, were trying to find our way back to familiar surroundings. The clicking of our heels resounded through the silence of the corridors.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">An interesting case of the blind leading the blind; Tabitha looked like she went to quite an ordeal, but I could not ask the specifics and she could not tell. But there was also concern on her face, concern for me. Clearly my experience had left its marks as well.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Now I was paying the terrible price of Mistress Desiree’s attentions and her toy. The bliss was gone, and now I finally experienced the shame and humiliation of my tribulation (not to mention the effects of the alcohol). And an acute awareness that this was just another day at sissy-school, and tomorrow there would be another, and then another. Who knows how many?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Not even my lessons on sissythink could bring me back to that ideal mental state where my sissy persona and me were one and the same. I minced through the hallway in the prim and proper way that had been drilled into me, but in the secrecy of my own mind I revolted against the regime I was being subjected to in this prison masquerading as a school.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">So can blame me when I saw a big green exit sign I dreamed of escape and freedom?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I looked back and around. We must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. When Mistress jade lured me here we did not come across this door. But who care? Here was a way out. This was my chance!</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I talked excitedly into my gag: This door didn’t look as secure as the ones in our own wing. Together we can force it open. It would probably lead somewhere outside, away from this dungeon.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Tabitha couldn’t understand a word I was saying, but at least I got her attention. I gestured to the door, feverishly waving my hands around as if that made my intentions any clearer.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">In hindsight, I could have ungagged Tabitha and she could have removed my pacifier in turn. Our elbows were still tied but with our wrist free it should have been possible. But it never came across my mind (nor Tabitha’s I reckon). I prefer to think it was because I still was groggy after Mistress Desiree’s attentions, because I dread the thought that my training and indoctrination was slowly stripping away the self-reliance and independence I took for granted as Charles…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">As it was, all I got for my efforts was an blank stare of Tabitha. I awkwardly tried to make her understand. Pointing and gesturing, doing charades, but my sister only looked more and more perplexed. I couldn’t help myself and threw a hissy-fit; stamping my feet and waving my arms, screaming into my gag out of undiluted frustration.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Later on Tabitha would ask me why I suddenly decided to start dancing in place…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I was about to give up when something startled Tabitha, and she frantically began to look around, pointing and waving. Now it was my turn to look confused.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Then I heard it: footsteps. Someone else was in these corridors. And </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>we</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> were not supposed to be here…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A cold dread ran across my spine, all thoughts of rebellion gone. We needed to get out of here, but I couldn’t pinpoint the source of the approaching footsteps. Did they echo from the corridor we had passed, or was it coming from further up?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Now we both were awkwardly waving panicked arms and tittering around on our heels like excited chickens, and would probably have continued doing so until the unseen threat caught us…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">…<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">but then an excited Tabitha bumped against the emergency exit, which left the door slightly ajar.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Flabbergasted I looked at the door. All that effort in getting Tabitha to help me force it open and it only needed a gentle nudge? Figures…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My sister interrupted my musings by grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the door. The footsteps we close now; either face the judgement of whoever was about to catch us, or try our luck on the other side of this exit. We preferred the latter option.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Holding hands we hurried through the door, mincing as dainty, prissy and picture-perfect as a pair of sissies could while running for their lives.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">We ended up in some narrow back-alley. Simple tan bricks gave the pavement and encroaching wall a monotonous hue that was almost as drab as the bare concrete of the service corridors. The narrow streak of overcast sky above us robbed the scenery of even more of its color. Still, leave it to the Swiss to have a rather tidy back-alley.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Our heels clicked on the weathered pavement as we hurried towards the next corner in the winding alley. My mind was racing; we had done it. We had escaped from sissy-school! But… now what?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Where were we? Where should we go? What about our uniforms? What happens when they discover we are missing?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But despite our lack of an actual destination, we hurried as much as possible to get there. We turned the corner, and promptly bumped into someone else…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">What the hell?!” a riled voice said.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My heart skipped a beat as I saw the familiar outfit of a mistress of house Black Leather. She shot us a glare, then her eyes widened in surprise.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Cheryl? What on earth are you doing here?” she asked.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My fright had blinded me to the obvious, but then her sweet voice, her exposed belly-button and long blond hair registered in my mind.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Automatically I bobbed a prim curtsey. Hello Mistress Anna, I mumbled into my pacifier.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The novice mistress returned a cute smile, the only flaw of this perfect sight was the cigarette she was holding.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She quickly drew a puff from het cigarette, then said: “And you’re… Tabitha, wasn’t it? Why are the two of you outside? You’re not supposed to leave the complex. Do you know how much trouble you are in?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I didn’t give any response; I had a idea, but even then the thought of escaping this madhouse trumped my fear.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Apparently she mistook my silence as an accusation. She shyly took the cigarette out of her mouth. “Yeah, I know. Neither should I. But just because the staff thinks this is a bad habit doesn’t mean I should go cold turkey.” She took one more huff and dropped the cigarette on the floor, extinguishing it with the sole of her shoe.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But what are </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>you</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> two… oh, one moment,” she said, then leaned in to unstrap my pacifier. “…you two doing here? Are you lost? How did you get out of the sissy-wing?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Words formed faster in my mouth than my mind could properly order them. “We lost our way in the service corridors. After Mistress Desiree Black kicked us out. Mistress Jade Violet brought me in but Tabitha was already there. She opened the door even I told her I wasn’t allowed. We found an exit but when I wanted to open it it was already open and now we are outside but I don’t know what to do now…”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Whoa, slow down, girl,” Mistress Anna replied. “You are making no sense.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I tried to control the flow of words. “You need to help us, Mistress. The Black Cloaks… they’re insane. Everything here insane. It’s a madhouse. We must get out of here. We need to escape!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She looked at us with concern. “Calm down, Cheryl. Take a deep breath. Relax. Now listen, you cannot say things like that, or you’ll get into serious trouble.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">That was not the response I had hope for</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Now let’s get you two back inside,” Mistress Anna continued. “If I tell them you simply got lost they’ll go easy on you…”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">What? No! I cannot go back,” I snapped, forgetting my place. “I need to escape from these maniacs! You must help me get away! The mistress, they are mean! Insane!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Anna’s expression turned dark. “Watch your tongue, Cheryl,” she said sternly. “You are talking about your betters. Calm. Down.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I barely heard her, lost I was in my growing hissy-fit. I began to flap my arms in frustration, stamp my feet in exasperation. “I should not be here! I am not with Mistress Margot! I should be with Mistress Christina! And Desiree and Jade and the red one are a couple of bitch…”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Slap!</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My body was frozen in place. My face burned. I looked at her face, her expression indominable. Her hand held up ready for a second cuff on the cheek. Et tu, Brute?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Don’t test me, Cheryl…” she told me coldly.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I began to cry.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You do not understand,” I whimpered. “They… she… they are meanumpfh!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Anna sighed as she shoved the pacifier back into my mouth.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Save it, girl. I do not want to hear it,” she said with some sadness, while securing the straps of my gag. “I hate to do this, Cheryl. I really do. But you leave me no choice. Now, let’s get you back indoors.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You, you cannot do this I cried. My tantrum came back with a vengeance. All I could manage was some impotent flapping and stamping, but Mistress Anna’s patence was already spent.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Twack!</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I groaned as her crop hit my thigh. She whipped me, I thought. I cannot believe </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>she</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> would whip me. Mistress Anna was supposed to be the nice one…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Smack! With a flick of her wrist she landed the tip on my left hand.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Ow! You bitch! You Judas! I cried into my gag. You…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She grabbed the leash connecting me to Tabitha, and gave it a hard tug. She stepped aside as I stumbled forward, and land a series of strikes on my behind.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Any cursing was quickly replaced with meek pleading.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Anna nodded to herself, clearly satisfied she had regain control of the situation. “Are you done, girl? Blown off some steam? Good. That way. Now march.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A soft warning tap of her crop got me moving without further fuss.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Tabitha, who had tried to be invisible during this alteration, immediately followed suit. She took my hand and held it was we minced down the alley. I don’t know if it was trying to be comforting or if she hoped it would prevent me from throwing another troublesome fit, but I was glad for this sign of companionship.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">We left the alley and stepped onto the square in front of the school’s main entrance. A final indignity waited for us there.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">…<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">tourists.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Even if Freistaat was technically private properly and a closed commune, a measure of outsiders were allowed to see and experience the warped microcosm of sissyville. And here was a small group being led around by one of the locals, a mistress who moonlighted as a tour guide for her adopted home.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">At this hour there were few kinky sights around, so of course the two hobbled fairies being force-marched around by a crop-wielding Mistress drew all the attention.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">it seems we are in luck,” the tour guide said with a chuckle. “Some of the school’s students are out and about today. Looks like two of the sissies have been a bit naughty. Luckily, the institute also trains women on how to deal with them. Let’s give this young lady a round of applause.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">There was some amusement, but also genuine respect from the visitors as they applauded for Mistress Anna. From the corner of my eyes I saw how Mistress Anna, despite her best efforts to look steely and professional, acquired a shy blush. She returned a slight nod in acknowledgement but otherwise tried to ignore the interlopers.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hurry up, girls,” she told us impatiently. “Let’s get inside.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And how about some appreciation for the two naughty little sissies?” the guide called out.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Now the group burst out in laughter, cat-calls, wolf-howls and lewd comments. I felt myself turning red and suddenly being returned to my prison did not seem all bad anymore.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">With the whistling and enthusiastically chatting tourists behind us, Mistress Anna led us up the Romanesque stairs of the front gate. She placed us in front of the main gate.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Now be good and don’t say a word,” she said while trying to make us a bit more presentable.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">…<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">given we were both still gagged, the second warning seemed a bit redundant.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She flashed a badge over a sensor and the forbidding door swung open.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">and tried flashed a badge across a sensor, and the forbidding door swung open on its own.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Anna straightened her back. Adopted a grim expression, and struck us both on the rear.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Inside, you two!” she roared as we yelped.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">No I understand she needed to show proper predominance over two wayward girls; mistress are watched, judged and graded almost as much as the sissies. But did she really need to hit us so </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>hard</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My behind burning, I minced into the lobby where Mistress Christina had dropped me off and where my misadventures in the institute began. I did my best to look and act prim and proper to avoid further chastisement. Thus ended my ill-conceived escape attempt.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Halt,” Mistress Anna told us. “Stand at attention. Position 3. Don’t move, and be silent.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">There was no-one else in the hall, but Mistress Anna paced over to an intercom. She pushed a button.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Miss Wachter, please,” I heard her say. Some clicking as a connection was established.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Miss Wachter? Anna Black speaking. I found two of your wards. Yes. Cheryl and Tabitha. Where? Outside, in the back-alley. I have no idea how they got there. They were… lost. And very confused. No, I’m sure they meant no trouble, but just took a wrong turn or two. Some mistress must have left a door unlocked or something. Yes, I’ll bring them to your office.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Another click as the connection was broken, and Mistress Anna walked over to us. She took out a tiny emergency make-up set and applied some blush on my tear-streaked face.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">As she worked, she talked softly. “When you are before Miss Wachter, answer her questions truthfully. But… avoid mentioning any ‘escape’, all right?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I gave a tiny nod, and Mistress Anna closed her make-up set.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">This will have to do,” she said sternly. “I expect you to clean yourself up when Miss Wachter is done with you. Now march. Back to your dormitory, pinkies”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A encouraging tap with the crop signaled me to start moving, and my heels clicked as they carried me back towards my pink prison.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">+++++++++++++++</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Miss Wachter was rather lenient with us. In her office she had us stand at attention and with a cold expression just said “Explain yourselves.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I told her about how Mistress Jade told me to come with her, my visit to the Black Cloak’s clubhouse, being kicked out again without an escort, getting lost in the service corridors, finding the door and going through it, and being found outside by Mistress Anna. Tabitha told something similar.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">We left out the more controversial parts of the story; It is </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>very</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> bad form accuse a mistress of overstepping her mandate, so our ordeals at the clubhouse were left unsaid. And we took Mistress Anna’s advice about not mentioning my ill-advised, poorly conceived and badly executed escape attempt.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Miss Wachter hardly said a word. I don’t know if she believed us, or if she inferred more than we told. Her cold stare was unreadable. Sharp eyes just observing us as we babbled.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Finally she said: “So… you left your designated area at the insistence of your superiors. And without proper escort gotten yourself lost in the maze of the service area, correct? So there are extenuating circumstances. Still, that does not excuse the fact that you were somewhere you shouldn’t have been. Outside even…”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She tapped her fingers on her desk, thinking.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Lift your skirts and bend forward,” she finally said, grabbing a paddle from a drawer. “Twenty should do for now.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">After our chastisement the second part of our sentence was clean-up duty. We were separated, with Tabitha sent to the kitchen and I to a mistress lounge that had devolved into a pigsty.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I was to make it spotless in three hours. Quite a challenge. Fortunately my regular bonds had been removed. And it beats getting another spanking. In fact, I was actually looking forwards to a few hours of solitude.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Imagine my annoyance when I heard a familiar voice at the doorway.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hey there, dum-dum. Whatcha-doing?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hello Buttercup Pink Panties. What a pleasure to see you again,” I said with my best behavior, but couldn’t fully suppress a sarcastic tone.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She barked a laugh. “You are so stupid, Cheryl. There are no microphones or cameras here. You can speak freely.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“…<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Is there something I can do for you?” my conditioning prevented me from getting rude, but I injected some hostility in my tone.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">With dainty steps she fluttered into the room like a pretty fairy, heels gently ticking. She held her hands outwards delicately. She looked the part of a picture perfect sissy, if it wasn’t for that sneer she had around her plumb red lips.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">What? Can’t I check up on my dear sister? I heard you had somewhat of an adventure. I’m surprised you can walk. And talk, for that matter. Did they go easy on you? Or not hard enough for your liking?” Her wide grin contrasted with her otherwise flawlessly executed demure posture.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Leave me alone,” I replied. I switched to position 4, straightening my legs and back, hands folded in front of me, making damn sure my technique was perfect. I didn’t want to be a sissy but now that I was, this hussy was not going to outshine me!</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Her grin disappeared as she sized me up. I had thrown down the gauntlet. Would she pick it up?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She did. Her skirt flared out as she twirled on her feet, making half a turn then sashayed across the room, making sure I got a firm look at her behind.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Oh don’t be such a sour-puss. There is no shame if you enjoyed it. The world needs dumb and slutty bimbos too.” Her gloved hands moved to accentuate every word.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Well, you should know, don’t you?” I replied with my girly voice as I minced over to her, my feet following a straight line, with hands and fingers pointed outwards with the perfect angles. My eyes and mouth radiating the bedufflement and sexy innocence that dominants love.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A sissy needs to strike an impossible balance between being a sultry bimbo and prissy innocence. Being expressive without actually expressing yourself. A nonsensical paradox, but in practice it meant I had to move as feminine and dramatic as possible while doing hardly any moving at all.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She watched my performance, and I saw annoyance reflected at me. Point to Cheryl.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But she wasn’t done. She turned so I got a good look at her profile, her uniform showing off her firm breasts and long legs. Her skirt barely hid her behind. She bent forward to pick up a fleck of dust.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Pretending to inspecting the particle, moving her hands around, then casually flicking it away, she said: “Don’t kid yourself, airhead. You may be some perverted guy, dressing up in drag, but I am a real woman. I have standards.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Heels clicked as I got a duster in the most exaggerated way possible, then moved over to the spot the fleck of dust had landed. Slightly spreading my erect legs, bending slightly forward, pushing my boobs outward, standing in a way that was more appropriate for being taken from behind than doing actual house work, I started to clean the spot.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I am no guy,” I told her as I moved the duster about with delicate movements of my hand. “And you are no woman. Not anymore at least. We are both sissies now. With the same standards.” I turned towards her, leaning on one foot and hands on my hips, giving her a good look at my cleavage. “And I am better at them then you.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She snorted, very unladylike. “You say that like it is a good thing. Don’t you realize how pathetic you are?” Her tone was rather inappropriate. Clearly I was getting beneath her skin.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I tuned on my heels. My pink boots clicked as I slowly and provocatively stepped over to a table to ‘clean’, making sure she would notice my frilly panties. “Why don’t you go bother someone else? I’ve got work to do.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She joined me at the table, her thread heavier than usual. “What? Bored of me already?” She said with a grin that contained no humor, only hostility.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And what are you going to do about it dum-dum?” she said as she glared at me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Tickle me with that duster?” her grin became wider. “Or are you going to stamp your feet and throw a hissy-fit?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Maybe I will!” I snapped. I heard a sharp click as I unconsciously did stomp my feet while I turned towards her. I crossed my arms before me in the haughtiest stance I could muster. “Everyone loves my cute little tantrums! Yours are just annoying!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She shot me a murderous glance. “Good thing you are in drag; you really are a bitch,” she said icily.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">With my fingertips I raided the hem of my dress and bobbed a mocking curtsy “But not </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>your</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> bitch. Tough luck, Buttercup,” I told her with a smile. “Don’t let the door hit you on your way out.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She walked up to me until she was in my face. Eyes radiated fury, looking as if she was about to punch me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I felt a tremor of fright go down my spine. Sissies fighting was not just forbidden; it was unthinkable. With my training and conditioning I wasn’t sure I could throw a punch if I could muster the courage to. But clearly </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>her</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> conditioning was less firm than mine…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Time froze as our eyes dueled. The she jolted forward…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">…<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">and I felt her lips on mine, tasting her tongue.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Startled, almost frozen, I dropped the duster as she kissed me. I prettily kicked my leg back submissively as I had mercilessly been taught, and was dimly aware she had done the same. I felt her hands at my waist and tight, and my own worked their way up her arms onto her back.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Whether by training of talent, her tongue expertly wrestled with mine as she kissed me passionately. Only with the greatest effort did I manage to pull back longue enough to get a few words out.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Why? How? I don’t understand…”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You’re hot,” she simply said as she playfully licked my lips. “So stupid, but so hot.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">We found our way to one of the couches, kissing and touching each other as we went.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I stroked her breasts while she explored the edges of my panties, our lips locked together.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I pulled back to catch a breath. “…I thought you hated me,” I managed to utter.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She gave me a cute smile. “I do. Sort of. It’s complicated.” And that was all the explanation I would ever get.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She pulled down my panties and (fortunately unsoiled) diaper. Her hand immediately found my erect clitty among my petticoats and eagerly she began stroking it as she kissed me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I was dimly aware that we were committing a serious infraction; a sissy touching herself was bad enough, punishable by whatever wicked sanction a Mistress could come up with. Sissies touching </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>each other</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">? Oh golly…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And yet, I offered no resistance as she leaned into me until I was laying on my back. The taste of her had drowned out all doubt.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She was soft and gentle, but did not let up until my clitty was hard as a rock. I could only moan in extasy.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She sat upright, pulling out a condom she had hidden in her bra.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Want to see a trick?” she said with a grin.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She tore open the packing and pulled out the pink condom, taking the latex ring in her mouth.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I sniggered sweetly at how funny she looked, the ring of the condom upright between her lips.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“…<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">atch ‘is,” said with her mouth full.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She pulled my skirt up, and I squealed in surprise as she leaned down and I felt her lips around my hard member. She took it in all the way and when she pulled back I felt the pressure of the latax that encased my sissy-clitty.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Pretty neat, huh?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She rearranged herself on the couch, pulled down her own panties, then was on top of me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Oh...” I could only say demurely are I felt her flower slide over my clitty. She grunted as she put her weight down and I entered her completely.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She began moving about. Up and down and back and forth. I heard us both breath heavily.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I tried to rock my pelvis to her rhythm, but she blocked me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">No, no,” she uttered. “Let me…”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She resumed her movements, rocking about while she held me down. I gasped as I felt her move around my clitty.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She kissed me, bit my lip and licked my cheeck, all the while moving on my erect member. But she took her time, expertly bringing me to the edge without letting me climax.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I felt her body tighten, herself close to coming. She leaned down and put her mouth firmly on mine. As out tongues danced around another she began to move faster.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Lips together, our gasps and moans were smothered by one another.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Then, with a final push, she let me come into her as she groaned in extasy herself. A few more thrusts as aftershocks, then she collapsed on me. Breathing heavily she sighed.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Wow, was it is good for you as it was for me?” she said with a smile.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I wanted to say something in affirmation, but her kiss interrupted my train of thought.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She moved off me, and in embrace we laid together on the couch enjoying the afterglow in silence.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Finally, she got up. “I need to go,” she said. “You need to finish, and I cannot be seen here.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I sat upright, watching her search for her underwear. She picked up some panties, decided they were mine, and threw them at me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Better clean yourself up,” she told me as she rummaged through a closet where the Mistresses stored useful item. Among the stationary and sex toys she found a mirror, lipstick and other make-up.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Still warm of the afterglow, and also rather dazed by the unexpected turn of events, I stumbled over to her.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I put my hand gently on her shoulder. “Buttercup…” I said supportive yet noncommittal.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She sighed. “I hate that name. That is </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>not</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> me. Just two more years of this nonsense, maybe three, and I’ll be out. Farewell Buttercup. Hello Diana.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She was making no sense. “That’s your real name?” I tried.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It will be. Once Mommy and Daddy affranchise me, I’ll be Miss Diana DuValle. Heck, I may even enroll here as a Mistress,” she explained while applying some blush.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I couldn’t suppress a snigger. “I’d love to see that. Mistress Buttercu… Diana Black. Pride of sissy-school. Scourge of sissies. Chairwoman of the Black Cloaks.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She shot me a glare, but a hint of amusement was visible in the corner of her mouth.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hah. Laugh it up, sissy. But I won’t be a pinkie forever.” She tossed me the make-up set. “A few more years and I’ll be wearing black. You’ll see.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She straightened out her skirt, and was about to leave.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Buttercup. Diana, wait!” I called out to her.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She turned towards me with a raised eyebrow.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Does this mean we are… friends now?” I said with a shy blush.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She walked over to me, and held my hands as she leaned in to kiss me. Once more I tasted her and felt her warmth as her fingers stroked my palms and wrists.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">We shared this moment of passion, and when she stepped back she smiled at me warmly. She was still smiling as she took the pacifier gag dangling from my neck and shoved it into my mouth.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It was locked in place before my surprise had barely registered. When I reached up I discovered that she, while we were kissing, had somehow locked my wrist cuffs together</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Sort of. It’s complicated,” she said with a smile as she left me to deal with a dirty room, some mild bondage, and an angry tantrum that produced a fair share of swear words that were muffled by my gag.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><b>Chapter 28:</b></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i> Under scrutiny. Cheryl is assigned a Monitor</i></span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Regardless of my misadventures with other students, my training continued inexorably.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I was trained in practical skills like the pigeon-toed stance, the bimbo-pose, the stripper-kick, crossing and switching legs while sitting. Endless drills in curtsies and walking in high heels. Made to memorize the Ten Positions, and how to smile, pout, sulk and even cry in an appropriate manner.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I was taught how to perfect my appearance; how to apply makeup or when to go for pigtails, curls or ponytails. How to inspect and fix my outfit. How to tie ribbons in pretty bows and use them as accessories at nonsensical places. And how to always strive for unachievable perfection.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">There where classes in chores; how to wash delicate panties. How to polish shoes. How to clean a room while still looking prim and proper afterwards. Even some cooking lessons.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Then there was the training in behavior; from how to be emotional and suitably cry when chastised, to striking that impossible balance between being a slutty bimbo and a prissy maiden. And how to always smile dimwitted, even if your yaw was numb from sucking dildos.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Ten there were the more esoteric lessons; the self-hypnosis of Sissy-Think. The normal hypnosis that may have implanted certain triggers. The Ten Big Blessings of Being a Bimbo. The history of Forced Feminization. The place of the sissy in the Proper Order or Things.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">So many lessons. So many rules! Overcomplicating everything and making straightforward things difficult. Getting fucked doggy-style is easy? Think again! Even when getting ravaged from behind a sissy needs to look as esthetically pleasing as possible. I spend an entire afternoon on all fours keeping my ass up, face forward and my back curved, while keeping my legs and feet stretched and under tension, making sure a maximum angle between leg and heelbone and the navicular bone is higher than my toes (almost impossible with those dreadful boots of mine). A string of mistresses had the time of their life as they dry-humped me. And to this day I still don’t know what a navicular bone is!</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">All this was thrown at us with at an insanely rapid pace; impossible let it sink in, let alone to master it. In fact, I still struggle with many of the basics.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And yet, despite chastisements of displeased teachers or critical Mistresses, I must have gotten something right; out of the blue I was called into Miss Wachter’s office. Apparently I had ticked off all the boxes of some unseen list and was deemed ready for the next phase of my training. Here I would put into practice what I had learned in the classroom.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I would be assigned a monitor.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I had heard the word before; but I hadn’t realized its importance.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A monitor was a tutor, but also much more than that: she was my assigned dominant. She would advance my training and watch my progress, protect me from her peers in exchange of my submission and obedience to her. Bibi Pink Panties called it exchanging the callous cruelty of multiple Mistresses for a single Mistress’ disciplined and highly regimented cruelty. It was not just some assignment, it was true Dominant-Submissive relationship, according to Miss Wachter one that is closer and deeper than most marriages.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I don’t know if that was true, but it was clear that getting a monitor was a big deal. The school spared no expense on the selection process, which was a strange amalgamation of a beauty pageant, talent show, wedding, auction and job interview.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Miss Wachter casually informed me that the ceremony would be in three days, broadly outlining what was expected of me and strongly suggesting I would prepare and not make a fool of myself; the honor of my House was at stake.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">So, after a full day of classes I did my best get ready; thinking up what to say and do. What to wear. My sisters, who had gone through the same process, helped out as best they could (except for Buttercup; her help was cancelled out by her general bitchiness).</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Then, before I had properly processed the latest events, I found myself backstage of the main auditorium where the ceremony would be held.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I checked myself up and down in the standing mirror, scanning for the smallest imperfection; a speck of dust, a loose thread, crooked seam. I also saw the reflection of my two sisters as they made some final adjustments.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Bibi Pink Panties fidgeted with a ribbon, while Prissy hummed contently as she pinned some fabric in place to further accentuate my corseted waist.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I was still wearing my uniform, the ultrafeminine pink monstrosity that was as much a mobile prison as a cock-tease’s fevered dream, but it had been further embellished beyond reason. Ribbons. Bows. Scarf. You’d be amazed what you can do with just a few yards of cloth, some sewing lessons, and the threat of a good spanking. Though it really were my sisters whose skill at this craft was remarkable. Bibi made me a sash that didn’t look half bad, and Prissy even managed to make little roses from cloth.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I think we’re done,” Bibi said.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Yeah,” I replied with a neutral tone. “I look… incredible.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Bibi and Prissy smiled widely, taking it as a compliment. And really they should, for what they had achieved with few materials and little time truly was astounding.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">We need to leave. Get ourselves ready for the ceremony ourselves,” Bibi noted. “We’ll be near the stage, cheering you on.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Thank you,” I said rather dazed, my eyes fixed on the ultrafeminine beauty in the mirror.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Prissy gave me a soft kiss on the cheek, making sure not to smudge my layers of makeup. “Knock ‘em dead, honey-bunny.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">They left me alone in the little dressing room that was assigned to me, one of several where a sissy was preparing for her moment to shine and face the judgement of the spectators. I would be last, called upon once it was my turn.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I looked around the dressing room, which began to feel suffocatingly small. Waiting here in solitude for something that was inevitable would drive me bonkers. Before I knew if my boots had carried me over to the door and my glove opened the handle.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I found myself in a boring white plastered corridor. Doors on both sides indicated the presence of more dressing rooms. Name tags indicated who was its occupant. I actually did not recognize most of the names; I always assumed that all sissies would go through the Novice class in the Pit first, then join a House for formal training, and then be assigned a monitor. But apparently the boarding school was only part of the services offered by </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>'Von Wytenbach's Etikette-Schule für junge Damen aller Geschlechter</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">', with various trainings offered on- and off campus, depending on the wishes and finances of the clients. The importance and pomp of this ceremony meant that the administration tried to let all students, whether on campus or far away, have their moment to shine on stage.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Tiffany Yellow Ribbon…” I read on one of the doors. My rival form the novice class. Of course I would have to share my moment of glory with that hussy! I had only seen her in passing around the school, which was probably for the best as I still hated her guts. She spoils everything she touches. Quickly I passed her door hoping to avoid encountering her.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Another tag drew my attention. I hesitated, but then I gently tapped the door.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Almost done,” a sweet voice replied hurriedly. “Just a few more minutes. You can come in, if you like.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I opened the door and as quietly as my heels allowed I entered the dressing room. In a standing mirror, identical to the one in my room, I saw the reflection of a pretty girl touching up on her make-up. She was dressed up as a Blue Bonnet, but with small changes to her uniform to make her look more risqué. Her signature bonnet had been replaced with an elaborate hairband that accentuated her intricate hairdo.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The girls reflection looked up at me. “Cheryl?” she said surprised.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hi Danielle,” I said with a weak smile.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">you shouldn’t be here, if they catch you…” she said alarmed.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I know, I know. It’s just… I wanted… I mean…” I muttered.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She didn’t turn around, just kept facing the mirror as she applied more eyeliner.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You look beautiful,” I finally said. “Blue really is your color.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Thanks. Perhaps they’ll let me keep the dress when I graduate,” she snarked.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I sighed. “Please don’t be like that. I only…”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Why are you here, Cheryl?” she asked with a tense tone, applying eyeliner to the same spot for the third time in a row.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A sense of resignation came over me, but I still smiled. “Just… good luck up there. Knock ‘em dead, okay? And… take care.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She stopped fumbling with the pencil “I’ll be fine. I just have to suck it up, do my thing, and then Gretchen will become my monitor. She’s all right.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You know who your monitor will be?” I asked surprised.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Who else than their star pupil to train the heir of the Rosenberg estate? It’s all rigged,” she answered grimly. “I’m sure your monitor has already been assigned too.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But the ceremony…”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She barked a laugh. “The ceremony? One big farce. Simply another opportunity to get a good laugh at our expense… Ah! Shoot!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">What?” I asked in surprise.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I overshot with my pencil,” she called out in dismay. “Oh, no, no, no, no! My make-up, its ruined! And I’m almost up!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Her hands jumped panicky across the vanity table, picking up and dropping various items. “Where is the remover?” she called out, almost crying.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I minced over to her, putting my hands on her shoulders. “Relax, Danielle. I’m sure it’s not that bad. Let me take a look.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She turned around and for the first time since I entered she faced me directly. Here expression was frantic, eyes close to tears. I inspected the tiny smudge above her eye.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It’s okay. We can fix that.” I grabbed a tissue, splashed a few drops of water on it, and carefully cleaned the spot.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">There, just a touch of eyeshadow…” I grabbed a brush and palette, and gently applied a few layers. “…and the eyeliner…” I took the pencil from Danielle.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You are gorgeous,” Danielle suddenly said.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">This startled me enough to almost drop the pencil. “What?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You are gorgeous,” she repeated. “You’re sweet. Wonderful. I wish you would be my monitor.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I felt a blush coming up, but also did not know how to feel about this confession.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Now you’re just being silly,” I tried to say in a light-heated tone. “You have cold feet, that is all. Now hold still while I finish this…” I applied the final touches with the eyeliner. “There, all done.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And not a moment too soon. Three heavy knocks pounded the door. “It’s time Danielle. Come out girl,” the maître des cérémonies called.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Flustered, Danielle turned to the mirror. “Do I look alright? It is okay? Are my seams straight?” she asked nervously.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You’re fine. Perfect. Now get out there.” I gave her a soft peck on the cheek, careful not to leave a mark.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It calmed her down, a sweet smile on her face and a blush on her cheeks.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She straighten her posture in a perfect nr. 5. “I’m ready,” she said resolutely.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Good. Now break a leg.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She looked at me surprised. “Huh? Why would you say such a thing?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Now I was startled. “Er… what? For good luck, of course!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">By breaking a leg? That’s bad luck.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">No! It’s… it’s a figure of speech. It means I wish you good luck.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">By wishing me a broken leg? That is stupid!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Er…”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Suddenly the door opened on its own. “Danielle Blue Bonnet, come out of here this instance!” The maître called annoyed. “We are waiting for you and… Cheryl Pink Panties?! What are you doing here? I told you to remain in your room until called!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I shot into inspection pose, legs together and hands in front of me. “This sissy is very sorry Miss. She… gah!” A quick slap on my behind with her rod of office shut me right up. She grabbed my earring and dragged me towards the door.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Save it. Get back to your room and stand at attention until I come for you, or I swear you’ll go on stage with red butt-cheeks,” she said as she pull-pushed me out of the room, making me stumble in my heels. “Danielle, follow me. Showtime,” I hear her say as I hurried back to my own dressing room, nursing my sore ear.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">+++++++++++++</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I didn’t see anything of Danielle’s ceremony at the time, just standing at attention in the corner of my room looking pretty and making sure to smile every time the maître came to check if I hadn’t scurried off again. I only picked up some occasional sounds of music, cheers, laughter and applause coming from down the hall. But I did see the recording made to commemorate the event.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Danielle did great, as I knew she would. She looked so pretty as she performed her routine, and the audience clearly approved. She owned the stage as she smiled and laughed and danced and sang. And there was that adorably cute blush she had on her cheeks as she answered their questions.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Though it is hard to put your finger on it, she had that aristocratic air that presumably she has in her blood, being a scion of an ancient noble family and all. I fully understood why Mistress Christina desired her, much to my envy. And it ended much as she predicted; Miss Gretchen became her monitor, and I could see a combination of relief and not small amount of pride that it was over and that she did not disappoint.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Another sissy that I had never seen before was next in the ceremony; she was a bit older. Probably one of the off-campus students that came over just for this event. She got a monitor even older than her, which I had never seen either but I later learned was her lawful wife. Perhaps Danielle was right; the assignment process was rigged.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Tiffany was before me, and she did well enough, I suppose. She got assigned to a Mistress of the Red Latex house that I did not know personally, but had a reputation for being both meticulous, critical, and did not spare the rod. That made me smile.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Showtime, princess,” the maître called out as she opened my door. “Let me have a quick look at you… Position five, Cheryl. Good. Now turn around. Position number three. Huh, a loose thread here… nothing anyone will notice, but I’ll mark you for discipline later. Half-turn dexter. Number seven. Chin up. Look left. Your </span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"><i>other</i></span><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"> left, Cheryl! Now right…. Yes, just let me fix that lock of hair… Excellent. Twirl around. Face the door, position one.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">With her off-hand she attached a leash to my collar (for the ceremony I did not wear my regular chains), but did not put tension on it. Instead with her other she gently took my own hand took my hand as she escorted me out of the dressing room. “You look golden, honey,” the maître said with honest tone. “I’m sure you’ll do us proud.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">+++++++++++</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The maître’s kind words warmed my heart, but it battled the cold chill of fright that went further down my spine with each click of my heels that brough me closer to the auditorium.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Remember the routine I practiced, my inner voice said. Remember my lessons. Always smile. If I get confused, just smile and giggle to the audience. What if I am no good? What if they don’t like me? Do I even want them to like me? Do I look okay? I look like a ultra-feminine idiot! Why am I seriously considering going on that stage and further humiliate myself? Who is in the crowd? Will my sisters be there? Will Danielle see me? Who is going to be my monitor? I hope she is nice. Will she be mean? I hope I won’t cry.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hold here,” the maître told me, and she let go of my hand. Getting into her position ahead of me she put tension on the leash. I pulled back a bit to maintain a balanced number one: my elbows at my sides, arms out, wrists limp, fingers spread, legs straight and ankles together, shoulders back and bottom slightly out, looking demurely down-and-forward.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Just around the corner was the side entrance to the main stage, and its bright lights reflected on the walls to cast some illumination at the otherwise dark and dull offstage area.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">From here I couldn’t see the audience, but I could definitely hear them. A chicken coop of cackling and chattering voices, each one drowning out the others. I could barely distinguish them, most were probably French or German, but some English too. And they were clearly quite happy; their tone relaxed, amused and enthusiastic. The spectators were clearly enjoying the show.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A feedback hum cut through the din, and a metallic voice admonished the audience.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Calm down, ladies,” the Baroness herself spoke. “I know you are all eager to congratulate our lucky sissies and their diligent tutors, but please quite down and get back to your seats. There is still one more of my pupils in need of a monitor, and though she is last, she is most definitely not least. The Wyttenbach Schule is proud to present to you the latest member of a House that is small in number but oh so great in its potential. And this remarkable girl encompasses everything what we value in its members. Ladies, Mistresses, staff and visitors, may I present to you Cheryl Pink Panties!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Music began to blare from unseen speakers; my entrance would be liven up with Aqua’s ‘Barbie Girl”.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The maître held up her rod, shook it to the rhythm of the beat. “Attention, girl. On the count of three. One, two, three, step.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Our heels clicked in unison with each other and the music. Keeping the leash taut she guided me forward, around the corner and onto the stage.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Maintaining my posture as she guided me across the podium, I diligently kept my gaze front and down. But the audio barrage was overwhelming. Cheers, applause and cat-calls thundered up from the audience. They loved what they saw and what they saw was a sissy on a leash tittering on her heels in her pretty outfit. I felt my cheeks light up in an amalgamation of perverse pride and bashful shame.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The maître guided my across the floorboards along a 8-like path. Then made me face the audience. She unclipped the leash and inconspicuously retreated backstage. I now was all alone on stage and in the universe as I faced my audience.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">They were surprisingly hard to see, despite the abundance of light. Several floodlights aimed at the podium and spotlights pointed at me directly blinded me somewhat. Still, I could take in my surroundings.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The room was not that big, but the chairs were almost filled to capacity with all sorts of girls and women, scattered about without apparent rhyme or reason. Many were from the school; Mistresses in their House livery; a gaggle of sissies was also present, including my sisters of the Pink Panties, each one escorted by her own monitor. I was quite relieved that Bibi and Prissy were present. Heck even Buttercup’s frown and sulk was a welcome sight.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">There was some staff present, and involuntarily a shiver ran down my spine when I saw the hulking figure of Frau Ochsenhorn leaning against the wall.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A lot of the women I did not recognize, and quite a few of them did not wear anything that marked them out as part of the school. Most didn’t even look that conspicuous, dressed in tidy but conservative outfits, especially compared to the riot of fetish wear present. Off-campus Mistresses perhaps? Otherwise interested parties? But who in her right mind would be interested in something like this?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I also saw Danielle, sitting next to Miss Gretchen who possessively held her hand. She looked twitchy, her head turning to-and-fro as if she desperately wanted to both watch and look away.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Some more familiar faces filled the front row seat. Dead center there was Mistress Anna, looking ever more comfortable in her Black leather livery. As our eyes crossed she gave me smile, wink and a subtle wave. It gave we a warm feeling.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Two seat further I saw Mistress Desiree, and her look was far less comforting. Predatorial, and far too eager. I felt myself gulp. What if she tried to become my monitor? I did not want to be in the same country as her, let alone be her ward.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Mistress Desiree said something to a young woman sitting next to her, nodding in my direction. I did not recognize her, and she wasn’t wearing any uniform so she probably was from off-campus. Certainly not much older than I was, she was a striking lady with jet black hair and a preference for dark makeup that contrasted with her light skin tone. Her outfit was mostly black and dark blue, with a somewhat old-fashioned or even decadent style. Perhaps she was a Goth? In this room she appearance was quite restrained, but anywhere else she would have stood out.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And yet, it wasn’t her make-up or clothes that drew my eyes to her. While everyone else in the audience had far to much interest in me and were all fired up, she just seemed… bored. Disinterest and mild annoyance radiated from her face. It seemed so off that my gaze lingered a bit too long on her, and suddenly she locked eyes with me. For a moment I felt trapped in a the cold light of her eyes, and I quickly looked away.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">To my left, at the edge of the stage behind a lectern, was the Baroness herself. She was dressed as any other principal; combination of power suit and casual chic. She gave me an approving look as she shuffled her notes, waiting for the audience to get a handle on their excitement.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And my, they were excited! No longer content to shout out compliments, cat-calls or rude offers, several began throwing items on the stage. Some members of the Violet Velvets were carrying baskets with flowers that they threw at the stage, several landing near my heels. Not to be outdone two Mistresses of Red Latex pelted me with pieces of female undergarments, that fortunately did not land anywhere near me. And though I never found out who, a loud thud to my left indicated someone had thrown a sizable dildo on stage.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">As a sissy never interrupts while her betters are having their fun, I waited for most of the ruckus to die down. Then I bobbed a prim and proper curtsey, drilled to perfection, towards the audience, and another solely for the Baroness.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">More cheers of approval, and also a few shouts of ‘call that a curtsy?’ or ‘that was pathetic!’, but the baroness took to the microphone as the music dropped in volume until it was little more than background noise.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Her amplified voice called out across the auditorium, finally shutting up even the most rambunctious Mistresses.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Welcome, my dear. Please, introduce yourself,” the baroness asked me. Her tone was very maternal. I would dare say she even sounded rather proud of her work. So different from the strict and domineering woman I met when I just arrived.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I gave a cute giggle, as I faced the baroness. “Thank you very much, Headmistress. This sissy is so happy to be here. Her name is Cheryl Pink Panties.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I folded my hands in front of me in a shy pose, threw a pretty look over my shoulder towards the audience and finished it off with a small but dainty back kick and a short clicking step.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I heard a buzzing coming from the audience as my response was being scrutinized.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You look lovely, Cheryl. What a pretty outfit you have,” she continued.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I looked down in fake surprise, as if I was caught off guard by the compliment. I turned my hips around to make to seemingly look at my outfit while the dress flared up around me. I smiled sweetly as I pretended for the compliment to sink in, then casually twirling around, gently spinning on my heels to give everyone a good look and curry more favor. “Oh, you are too kind, Headmistress. I am just wearing my uniform, teehee. But my sisters worked very hard to make it even prettier.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">If you think the questions were banal, and my answers even more so, you would be right. But you must understand what was happening in this phase. I was asked questions and I gave answers, yes, but no-one cared what I actually said.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">During my classes on sissythink it was imprinted on me that words out of a sissy’s mouth are as wind; banal, ignorant, incorrect, a nuisance if not outright lies. Body language however, that tells the careful observed the deeper truths that cannot be hidden. The smallest hesitance can prove a lie to a thousand promises. Conversely, a tiny gesture done well can reveal incredible commitment or an unsurpassed level of training.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">So what do you love most about your outfit?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I grabbed the hem of my dress, lifting it up slightly as I innocently looked down at my boots. “The heels, Headmistress. Definitely. Seriously. I mean, they are so high they make me walk so delicately, so cute. It makes everyone happy.“ I threw another stripper kick for emphasis. “And that makes me happy in turn.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">We went back and forth like this for a while, me using each question to subtlety show of my skills to the audience. I even managed to blush at appropriate moments.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The mistress turned the page of her notes.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Now then, sweetheart. I have been told you have some very special talents. Would you please show your audience.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I’d love to, Headmistress,” I replied with a light-heartened tone, but I am sure everyone saw me gulp apprehensively.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I heard the music change, and the tunes of a familiar nursery rhyme came from the speakers.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Anxious, but maintaining my focus, I waited for the musical que to start the routine I had been preparing.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">My lips moved as I silently counted. One, two, three, go!</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I'm a little sissy, sweet and pretty,” I began to sing as I daintily strode across the stage, heels clicking to the beat of the music, while I moved my arms around in a predetermined pattern to emphasize my features.</span></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I stomped my heels on the ground, ankles together, facing the audience. I bent forward while keeping my legs straight, giving the audience a good look of my cleavage. “These are my boobies…”</span></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I straightened my back and raised my skirt to a tantalizing level. “…This is my clitty.”</span></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">When I get all dolled up. Hear me weep!” I continued mincing around the stage, careful not to trip on any underwear or that large dildo.</span></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Then take your strapon…” I only had to think about Mistress Margot and the Penalty Box to put a suitably distressed expression on my face</span></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Standing sideways, so that everyone could see me in profile and inspect my curves, I stuck out my behind in a very provocative manner, while my eyes radiated frightened confusion. “…And push in deep1”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">There was absolutely nothing subtle about my performance; this was performing for the people at to very back of the room, with very excessive gestures and movements.</span></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The audience was going into a frenzy, and I felt a perverse sense of pride at their approval. But I wasn’t done degrading myself for their amusement yet.</span></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I'm a clever sissy, yes it's true,” I sang as I started the second verse.</span></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">There’ so many thing you can make me do.” Finger to the side of my face, looking up sideways with an expression of an airhead trying to think.</span></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I dropped the tries-to-think expression, and minced a few steps with an attitude of blissful ignorance. “I will simply frolic and mince about…”</span></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I stopped, back turned towards the audience, looking over my should with eyes and mouth wide in alarm. I raised my skirt and exposed my behind, panties visible for all to see. “…’Till you spank me and make me shout.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Applause, cheers, whistles from the audience. I felt myself blush at the overwhelming attention I was receiving. Or was it because I was exposing myself to a large crowd? I quickly turned around and dropped a thankful curtsy.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Well, that is quite a talent, Cheryl,” the baroness spoke. “You made me feel all warm inside!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Well, I certainly managed to fire up the audience. Still they were applauding. “Encore! Encore!” I heard from among the crowd. And someone yelled “We want more. We want more!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">More women began to join in: “We want more! We want more! We want more!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Well, what do you say, starlet?” the baroness asked me expectantly. “Surely you are not going to disappoint your fans?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Of course not, Headmistress. This sissy wouldn’t dream of letting the audience down,” I said cheerfully, though in truth I was grinding my teeth. I was hoping I would be done now. I had prepared fall-back performance just in case, and even cooked up some lyrics, but they were much harder to remember and I also hadn’t had time to work out the choreography. I would have to improvise…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I took a deep breath, assumed a pose that hopefully was suitablt submissive yet tantalizing, and waited for the music to change to Nancy Sinatra’s ‘These boots were made for walking.’</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;"></span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">When the tambourine jingles began to play, I stepped forward and minced extravagantly in my own boots. When the lyrics started, I fell in with my own version, desperately trying not to stumble on either my own feet or tongue.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You are saying, you've got something for me.<br />something long and hard, I would guess.</span></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I’ve been guessing, what your whip will be testing.</span></p><p class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And now I’m on my knees waiting in duress.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I had no idea what I was doing, making up gestures and movement of the spot hoping not to make more of a fool of myself than I already did. Thankfully I chose this song as it seemed natural to draw attention to my legs and not bother with intricate arm and hand movements.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">These boots were made for mincing,</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And that's just what they'll do.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And no matter how I beg and plead these boots will present me before you.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I found my rhythm and tried to mimic the delicate steps of the dancers in the original video clip, as well as Sinatra’s movements. Those that I could remember, anyway.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You keep binding, so I cannot be moving.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And you keep spanking me, oh-so-bad.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">In your hands I know, I oughta be a-crying.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">But as as you blindfold me,</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I know that I’ve seen nothing yet.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I made sure my movements were shy, submissive, and a bit frightened. Fitted better with my chosen lyrics.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">These boots were made for mincing,</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And that's just what they'll do.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And if I ever run away these boots will drag me back to you.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A delighted audience clapped their hands to the rhythm of the song, urging me on.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You keep playing games of you on me preying,</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">and I know that always, I’ll get burned.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">gha!</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">You just put me in a brand-new set of handcuffs, yeah</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">and what torments you have, I will dread to learn.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The lyrics, the movements, all came naturally now. Which was actually kind of frightening in itself…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">These boots are made for mincing,</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">and that's what they will do.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And every day, these boots are gonna submit me to you.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Are you ready boots? Start mincing!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I gave it my all during the musical outro, and then the music stopped and I slipped back into Position 1, bobbed a curtsey and waited.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">There was a moment of tense silence, broken only whispers of those Mistresses who were discussing my technique.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The Headmistress looked at me in rather stunned surprise. Then she began to clap. And the rest of the audience joined in into a standing ovation.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I received a thunderous applause, and I was absolutely stunned. Women who previously preyed on me and did everything to belittle me were shouting praise. Staff members who had spanked me silly smiled like proud mothers. Even the young woman on the front row had dropped the bored expression and now observed me with interest.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I could do nothing else but blush and bob another curtsy. Negative feedback tends to be the norm for a sissy, so this level of appreciation was kind of overwhelming.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I could get used to this, I thought. Then I remembered that I was forced in drag and act like an idiot for this, so really I should not…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The baroness interrupted my musing. “Thank you for that, my dear. That was very… inventive. In fact, you may have given some ladies here so very naughty ideas.” That elicited some laughs amongst the audience.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She ordered her notes and turned towards the audience. “As you can see, ladies, Cheryl Pink Panties is bursting with potential. And a natural in the feminine arts, having easily grasping advanced skills like walking in four inch heels and fellatio. But such potential requires careful cultivation; she has a stubbornly reluctant side that needs to be both fostered and ruthlessly suppressed. As such she requires strict discipline and regular humiliation.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Wait, what? Confused I glanced at the baroness.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Such strictness is quite a burden on any monitor,” the baroness continued, “and requires commitment and diligence. But it allows you to dabble into that potential and perform feats not you of her could have ever imagined. She is earmarked for training as Bimbo Doll, Bondage Babe, Dominated Damsel, Subjugated Servant and Spank Pet…”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I was earmarked for WHAT?!</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“…<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">and such a rare combination of skills and goals is exceedingly rare. If you wish to work with clay of such purity, and are strong and ambitious enough to rise to the occasion and mold her further and complete her training, you are invited to bid on her. Cheryl will now answer questions from the audience. Yes, Miss Violet Velvet?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Thank you, Headmistress,” one of the Mistresses in blue replied before turning to me. “And thank you, Cheryl, for such a nice presentation. I am sure you do your sponsor proud. Now, can you answer me this: do you suck cock?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I had barely processed what the headmistress just said, and now this question blindsided me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Wait… what?... Er…” I muttered, before remembering I was still under scrutiny. I quickly bobbed a curtsy. “This sissy is happy that… er… apologies, Mistress, can you please repeat the question?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It was a very simple question, sissy,” the Mistress in blue told me. “Do. You. Suck. Cock?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">After the communicative dance I had with the headmistress, this question was awkward, rude, and very direct.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Er… this sissy has never preformed fellatio for real yet, Mistress,” I said hesitantly, not sure if that was good or bad. “But she is…”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Are you any good?” she asked as she cut me off.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I actually anticipated this question, and had memorized an answer. “This sissy’s performance at fellatio has been graded with five hearts, four ribbons and two stars, Mistress!” I replied enthusiastically.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">To this day I do not know what that score meant, but apparently it’s quite good…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Another Mistress was given an opportunity to ask a question.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Show me your clitty,” she simply said.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Dumbfounded I could barely form a word, let alone come up with a suitable reply. Can she even ask me that? I looked at the headmistress for support, but she just looked down on het notes and completely ignored my plight.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I looked across the audience, looking for help among the crowd. I crossed eyes with my sisters and Danielle. They all answered me with resignation.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">What are you waiting for, girl?” a voice called out of the auditorium. “Are you deaf? Drop those panties!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Drop! Drop! Drop!” other women joined in.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I had difficulty maintaining my composure and my posture. Performing my routine on stage, though frightening at times, had given me a measure of control over my life. A few lewd questions from the audience had taken that away again and now I was very conscious of the fact I was powerless, sissified and dominated, and completely at the mercy of a horde of Mistresses that looked they were about to pound me like a pack or hungry wolves.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hurry up, girl!” the original questioner called out impatiently. “Or do I need to come over and spank your ass?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">That… will not be necessary, Mistress,” I managed to utter.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I turned around, bend over and lifted my dress, exposing my pantied bottom to the crowd. I wasn’t just going to drop my panties. No, I was going to make an exaggerated and tantalizing spectacle out of it. My training demanded no less. That was just how things were, and how they were going to be.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">At least the audience approved, several whistles and cat-calls being thrown around.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I gently ran the tips of my gloved fingers along the lacy edge of the fabric, slowly pushing them further underneath in a provocative manner. I looked over my shoulder and gave a look like the audience had just walked in pleasuring myself. Boy, they loved that.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Slowly I began to pull my panties down, glad I was not diapered for the ceremony. Sliding them over my stockings and then my boots, making sure the hem of the skirt did not cover my newly exposed flesh.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I stood up erect and turned around, facing the audience. My skirt was now the only thing still covering my clitty. I smiled at the audience, fighting back the tears.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I took up position four, the little-girl-caught-stealing-cookies pose. Legs a bit wider but the tips of my boots pointed inward, looking down remorsefully. I slowly lifted my dress until these mean woman could see my emasculated shame.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">More whistles. “Woohoo, you go girl!”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The questioner barked a laugh. “I’ve seen enough, sissy. Put that away.” I eagerly obliged and covered myself up with my dress.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The baroness, who had remain silent during my last ordeal now appointed another questioner. It was Mistress Desiree.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hi there, sissy. Tell me, what do you think is an appropriate punishment for… say… dawdling?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I managed to regain some semblance of my composure. I even managed to smile and giggle. “Why Mistress, a sissy that dawdles needs a firm reminder that her superior’s time is precious. A few slaps with a paddle should remind her of her duty.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Only a few slaps?” she shot back at me. “That is rather mild. Sounds to me like you are becoming lax. Want me to become your monitor? My way is far more demanding that a couple of love taps with a paddle, but I’ll assure you a sissy will never be lax again. Want me to be your monitor?” She gave me a wicked smile</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Er… I.. I mean, this sissy would… well…” I stammered, trying to formulate a sentence.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Gah! She is asking to be my monitor, right here before half of the school. If I say no, I will have humiliated her before her peers which a sissy should NEVER do, but if I say yes I’ll be the ward of this leather clad viper.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Miss Black Leather, please refrain from such questions. Monitors are assigned after the bidding phase. Thank you,” the baroness spoke formly, saving my ass.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Well, for the moment anyway. Desiree snorted at the rebuke, but her eyes were on me. She wasn’t done with me just yet.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Next question. Yes, Miss Black Leather?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I was surprised to see Mistress Anna raise her hand. “Thank you, Headmistress. Hi there Cheryl. My compliments on your performance. You are doing great, girl. Now I would like to ask, what is your favorite food?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Where did that question come from? “Er… Pizza, Mistress?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Do you like strudel?” she asked me with a gentle smile?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“… <span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Er …This sissy never had any, Mistress.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It’s delicious. Perhaps we can share some sometime.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">That sounds great, Mistress. This sissy would love to try it,” I replied enthusiastically. If this was an attempt to put me more at ease, it worked. And I suddenly was hoping very much that Mistress Anna would become my monitor.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">More questions followed. Some were honest attempts to check if I would match with a Mistress. Most were just for laughs by making me squirm on stage.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Eventually the baroness took no more questions, and the auction phase began.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The auction phase was exactly like it sounded: Mistresses could offer bids on me, she with the highest bid would become my monitor. Only nobody would offer money…</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I bid one hour of lessons in make-up, and another in posture,” one Mistress offered.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I match your bid and raise twenty minutes of heel-walking lessons. The girl has weak ankles.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">…<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Instead they bid what they would teach me, or how much time they would spend on me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It was quite ridiculous; you cannot organize an education like this, can you? Still, the Mistresses seemed nonplussed and enthusiastically bid against one another to teach me anything from a speaking in a feminine voice or orgasm denial to hours of posture and walking lessons. And so it went on, with the baroness moderating the bidding, rejecting any impossible or nonsensical bids.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I quickly found myself the subject of an actual bidding war. It is flattering to be desired like this, but one of the bidders was Mistress Desiree, and she seemed rather keen to win. She matched every bid, and raised with scary sounding things like bondage acclimation and sensory deprivation.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">On the positive side, Mistress Anna was bidding as well, and she fought Desiree with tooth and nail. Every other Mistress had already dropped out.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I bid 2 hours of close mentoring after class for Mondays, and 2 hours of teaching in the evening. Topics include make-up application, the feminine mindset, beauty and hygiene, and etiquette. For Tuesday one hour of posture training and walking in heels, one hour housecleaning duties and half an hour for discipline. For Wednesdays…”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hold it, Miss Anna Black Leather, exactly where do you think to find the time for all that work? You have a busy curriculum yourself. Not to mention the fact that your skills in discipline and domination have not yet reached monitor levels.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Headmistress, if I rearrange some of my own classes, I can squeeze several hours in. And I should reach the appropriate levels is less than…”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Save it, Miss. I commend your enthusiasm, but you will not risk your own education. I reject your offer.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Headmistress, then I would like to bid…”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“…<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And I refuse any further offers from you. The last accepted bid was by Miss Desiree Black Leather. Ten hours a week of close mentoring in various topics, with at least two regarding discipline and bondage.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">All the while these women were fighting over me, I could only stand here and look pretty, completely unable to intervene in my own fate. My opinion or whishes were neither necessary or wanted. And now I still had to stand here as the horrible woman would get stewardship over me, forced to smile blissfully as it was happening right before me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The baroness turned towards the audience. “Last chance raise the current bid. Going once. Going twice...”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I’ll take her,” a voice called out.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Surprised faces all around. People trying to find the source of this unexpected twist.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Miss Hattenberg, you would like to join the bidding?” the baroness asked.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Hattenberg? Wait, I knew that name. That was one of Mistress Christina’s friends. A mean woman. But she wasn’t here, was she?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The young woman with the dark hair, make-up and clothes got up from her chair. Her bored expression replaced with a certain glee.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I will take her,” the woman said again. “She seems fun.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">This Goth-chick was also called Hattenberg? I wondered if they were related.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">And what do you offer to top the last bid, Miss Hattenberg? Bear in mind that I expect a certain level of competence of…”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Oh, don’t be so dull, Wytenbach,” the young lady said dismissive.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">A shocked silence came over the auditorium. Students, and staff, Mistresses and sissies, all looked at the girl who challenged the Headmistress herself in her own domain.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I could almost hear the baroness grind her teeth. “Miranda, perhaps the rules are not clear to you. You need to offer something in order to…”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">How about I offer to talk to mother about your… cashflow problems. I am sure I can make her see your point of view.” The young woman called Miranda said with that bored tone of hers.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I am sure the baroness turned pale.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I looked from the Headmistress, to Miranda Hattenberg, to Mistress Desiree. What was happening here? Who was this girl? What did she want with me? Was she saving me from Desiree? Was the baroness really considering her offer? Was that good or bad?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The baroness stared at Miranda bitterly. “Sold,” she finally said weakly. “To Miranda Hattenberg. Please come take Cheryl into your care.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Her eyes fixed on me. “Of course,” she said, her bored tone completely gone. Replaced by something… else.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">I held my pose as the walked onto the stage. Her thread was different from any other I’ve seen. Not the dainty and submissive minces of a sissy obviously, but also not the strong and confident steps of a Mistress. It was like with each step she radiated indifference. And indeed she did not seem to care at all that the entire auditorium was shocked and appalled by her temerity.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Miranda walked past the baroness’ lectern, and did not wait for her to hand over the leash that symbolizes our new commitment to one another, simply snatching it from the desk.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">As instructed before the ceremony, I held our my hand affectionately for my new monitor to take, and guide me off-stage. She walked over to me with that weird grin, and completely ignored my hand, grabbing my wrist instead.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The baroness came over as well to finalize the ceremony.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Thus concludes the selection of the monitor,” the baroness spoke. Though this was supposed to be a highpoint to the event, like the echancing of vows at a wedding, the baroness sounded like it was a funeral instead.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Cheryl Pink Panties, you will give your new monitor her due. You will you respect, honor and obey her in all things until you are released from tutelage,” she said to me.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">It wasn’t a question. I would not be offered a opportunity to say ‘no’. I bobbed a curtsey and simply said “Yes, Headmistress.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">She turned to Miranda. “Miranda Hattenberg. Will you teach your ward the ways of femininity? To instruct, correct and protect her as necessary?”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Miranda didn’t even look at her as she snapped the leash on my collar. “You’ve always been so dull, Wytenbach. Yes, yes, I promise.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">The baroness was supposed to say a few more words, but Miranda simply pulled my arm and leash and dragged me with her.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Back at her seat she sat me down onto her legs. She hadn’t addressed me personally during the entire ceremony, and now I was in her care and on her lap, and still she barely acknowledged me. I felt the urge to break this uncomfortable silence.</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;">“<span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Thank you, Mistress, for becoming my monitor,” I told her sweetly, trying to avoid any awkwardness. “Which of lessons are you going to teach me?</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><span style="font-family: DejaVu Sans, serif;">Finally she spoke to me directly, a disconcerting glimmer in her eyes: “Just one. Not being dull.”</span></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p><p align="justify" class="western" style="direction: ltr; font-family: "Liberation Serif", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 19.2px; margin-bottom: 0.08in;"><br /><br /></p>rocketdavehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00574717380856957685noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-79106567635877176972021-09-14T06:25:00.001-07:002021-09-14T06:25:44.500-07:00A Price Worth Paying New Story with Illustration <p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #201f1e; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Ashamed
to see it’s been so long since I’ve posted anything- Bea would not be impressed
- but great to see Rocket Dave and Rosie have been active with their wonderful
contributions.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #201f1e; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">This is
quite short and has been posted elsewhere so some have already seen it.
Hopefully readers will enjoy it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #201f1e; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Take
care<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #201f1e; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Carrie<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #201f1e; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #201f1e; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #201f1e; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #201f1e; font-size: 11.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Kunstler Script"; font-size: 36.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;">A
Price Worth Paying<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Kunstler Script"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;">By<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #17365d; font-family: "Kunstler Script"; font-size: 30.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: text2; mso-themeshade: 191;">CarrieP<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 50.5pt; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-element-anchor-horizontal: column; mso-element-anchor-vertical: paragraph; mso-element-linespan: 3; mso-element-wrap: around; mso-element: dropcap-dropped; mso-height-rule: exactly; mso-line-height-rule: exactly; page-break-after: avoid; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 66.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-text-raise: -4.5pt;">A<o:p></o:p></span></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">lthough he
had only met her on a few occasions William dreaded the idea of visiting
Caroline’s mother. It’s not that she was a complete ogre but she <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">was </i></b>a
little overbearing, single minded and quite demanding. He assumed that these
traits were common to extremely wealthy women as the few times they had met her
friends displayed similar characteristics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>However on the positive side he had to admit she had wonderful taste was
extremely generous and funded Caroline’s and by extension his own idyllic life
style so it would be most unreasonable to be too critical. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His feeling of dread was not helped by the
fact that she lived on a small island although it was large enough to
accommodate several other mansions owned by her aforementioned friends, all
middle aged matrons, and also all immensely rich and powerful. The only thing
that would make the visit tolerable was her mother’s extremely well curate and
extensive art collection which he believed included some very valuable pieces.
Caroline had promised if her mother was not too busy she may even allow him to
view it. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Thankfully
this visit was to be brief as Caroline was taking him away for a week to
celebrate their engagement. As they approached their destination he considered
himself most fortunate, the income Caroline derived from her trust fund was eye
watering and multiples of what William earned. Several months prior to the
engagement she had persuaded him or perhaps insisted, would be more accurate, to
abandon his job and concentrate on assisting her run her mother’s various
charitable foundations and art galleries. How could he refuse, there was very
little effort required apart from turning up at fundraisers and entertaining
her mother’s friends. Of course it was a little boring at times but it did
offer many opportunities for access to private art collections and if he was
honest he did enjoy the attention of the wealthy middle- aged women owners of
these collections. It was no doubt an idyllic lifestyle and one which up to
recently he could only dream about. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So meeting
her mother to deliver the good news of their engagement was a price worth
paying.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The twenty
minute ferry ride to the island went smoothly enough and they were met by very
serious looking Miss Hargreaves, his future mother in law’s assistant who drove
them the short distance to the house.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The house,
like Caroline’s mother, had an intimidating effect on him and passing through
the large and well appointed vestibule two housemaids curtsied as the trio
passed. William always felt as uncomfortable with servants as he did with
Caroline’s mother. It<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>was very hard for
him to put his finger on it,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>it was not
as if they said anything untoward or disrespectable it was just that they
always seemed to have a strange look on their faces as if they had a slight
contempt for him. He thought it was like an exclusive tailor assessing a client
he deemed unworthy of his craft with his eyes before finally taking accurate
measurements. Then there was the friendly but almost smirking smile when they
curtsied.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I’ll certainly be glad to leave here
in a few hours </span></i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">he
thought as they were shown into the main drawing room.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Madam will
be here shortly Miss Caroline.” Miss Hargreaves said as she gestured to one of
the maids where to position the tea tray before leaving.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Congratulations
Miss Caroline.” the maids said as she carefully placed the willow patterned tea
cups on the coffee table in front of them “I’m sure both you and Miss William
will be so happy.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Caroline
laughed and slapped her thighs with both hands.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Oh I’m
terribly sorry I meant Master William.” the girl said apologetically and
curtsied to William.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Miss
William indeed!” Caroline shrieked as she continued to find this most amusing before
finally regaining her composure to reassure the maid “That’s quite all right
Alice.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">William
shuffled uncomfortably on the sofa and felt his cheeks redden as Caroline
continued to struggle with her giggles much to his irritation.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Miss William
is not offended.” she chortled continuing the attempt to suppress her hilarity
and after a few moments she eventually calmed herself sufficiently to ask “Are
you darling?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He would
have sounded extremely pompous and ill humoured if he had told the truth and
decided the best option was to try to laugh it off.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“No not at
all.” he lied attempting a laugh and as Caroline turned her attention to the
door where her mother had just entered a sly but noticeable smirk came over
Alice’s face.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Of course
this only reaffirmed his suspicions about the servant girls but as his future
mother in law strode across the room he had to dismiss further thoughts on the
matter. After receiving a kiss on either cheek from Caroline she turned her
attention to William<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“William it has
been far too long.” she said offer her cheek for his kiss, an undertaking he
never relished and always found it childish and perhaps even a little
effeminate. “Come kiss Mother like a good boy.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">She pulled
him so close to her that he could feel the wire in the bra that contained her
ample breasts. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Lovely to
see you again.” he lied again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Lovely to
see you again…”she said coolly, tilting her head slightly and raising an
eyebrow.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">This was the
part he dreaded most and knew any attempt at avoidance would only lead to
further humiliation. He swallowed hard and desperately tried to evade the
maid’s prying eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Lovely to
see you again…em…”he struggled before finally steeling himself to add “Mother”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You really
should not need reminding William.” she said in a friendlier tone “You are part
of my family now and we should be as close as I am with Caroline. And I believe
we soon will be.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Concluding
that any argument he would make would only make matters worse and would only
result in Caroline taking her mother’s side. He chose the path of least
resistance.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yes
Mother.” he answered and was rewarded with smiles of satisfaction from Caroline
and her mother and another grin from Alice the maid.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As Alice
closed the door behind her Caroline’s mother turned to her daughter.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I do wish
you would not laugh in such a loud way in front of the servants Caroline.” she chided
her daughter “It is most unbecoming and sets a bad example. Whatever was the
cause of so much jollity? I could hear you from several feet outside the door.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Caroline
started giggling again and her mother turned to her soon to be son in law.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“William?” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“It… emm..ah…it
was nothing of any consequence.” he stumbled and seeing the irritated look on
her face quickly added “… Mother.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“It
certainly doesn’t sound like it was nothing of any consequence, young man.” she
said her voice becoming a little vexed “Do I have to call Alice in and question
her.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">She fixed
him with a steely stare and within a second or two he blurted,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Alice
addressed me as Miss William.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Is that
all?” she replied “Shame on you Caroline for laughing at the poor boy’s
discomfort.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">William felt
vindicated but quickly became alarmed as her mother slipped her arm over his
shoulder and gently drew his head onto her breast. He had to admit that it was
comforting to know that at least someone understood his ego had been bruised.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Alice
mistook him for a girl.” Caroline needlessly explained the joke and began
giggling again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yes
Caroline I <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">do </i></b>understand. And if you had not told the poor boy to grow his
hair long he would not look so feminine.” her mother upbraided her “But William
is a most sensitive soul and even if he does look a little feminine it is no
cause for such raucous laughter.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“We all know
William is not the most rugged of men.”Caroline snorted a little peeved by her
mother’s criticism and glanced at him before continuing “Even you must admit
that, William. It was just the shock of someone, a housemaid, saying it out
loud. It was taken by surprise, it was not meant as an insult darling.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He tried to
lift his head to protest but her mother’s strong hand easily prevented him
doing so and his face continued to remain snuggled against her soft satin
blouse.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“That’s
not……”he tried to object but was interrupted immediately.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yes dear
but it’s nothing to be ashamed about.” Mother consoled him gently stroking his
mane “It is a very rare and most attractive quality in a man. There are far too
many macho types masquerading as men these days it is so refreshing to find a
man who has such delicate features and is in touch with his feminine side.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Feminine…”
he repeated and once more attempted an objection but to no avail.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Don’t
interrupt darling while Mother is speaking.” Caroline’s mother said softly and
pressed his face even tighter to her bosom. “Yes, you are indeed blessed with
such soft almost girlish looks and those wonderful dainty hands not to mention
your long eyelashes. And of course your thick, lustrous curls. Any girl would
envy those features my dear. All my friends think Caroline is a very lucky girl
indeed.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">She finally
allowed him to raise his head and then looked him in the eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“It was the
reason I allowed permission to ask you for your hand in marriage.” she said “And
I just have this feeling, call it a mother’s intuition, the dreadful masculine
ego that most men have is absent in you.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“But…”he
made another attempt to speak but once again was overruled.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I just hope
I haven’t made a mistake.” she said squeezing his hand gently, her eyes gazing
longingly into his as she waited for the correct answer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He felt the
same now as he had done when Caroline asked him to marry her – unable to stand
up for himself and say what he really wished to say. Of course the luxurious
lifestyle and her mother’s generous allowance were large incentives not to rock
the boat.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">They probably didn’t mean feminine, maybe
they just could not think of another word. </span></i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">he rationalised. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">It
would be a pity to cause any unpleasantness over a minor misunderstanding.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Oh no
Mother I’m not that sort of person” he answered.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Good I’m so
glad to hear that.” she said “I knew I had not misjudged you and now you have
accepted Caroline’s proposal as a special reward I will treble your personal
allowance.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Oh Mother
thank you so much.” he squealed and although he suddenly became aware of just
how feminine he had sounded he almost instantaneously dismissed any thought of
self criticism. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Treble my allowance!</span></i><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> he shouted in the privacy of his
brain.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">However the
delight was evident on his face, Caroline looked at her mother and smiled in
the way women do at excited children.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Well it’s
almost time for your afternoon nap.” her mother said.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“But
Mother…” Caroline protested.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Now young
lady,” her mother cut her short “You know how I feel about proper rest. I have
already told the servants to prepare your room.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“But…we have
a long drive ahead of us and as William cannot drive I’d like to get going in a
few hours.” Caroline retorted.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“More is the
reason why you should rest.” her mother quickly answered. “Don’t you think so
William?”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Oh yes
Mother.” he gushed and still overcome by excitement at his good fortune smiled
at her adoringly. “I can take a walk while you rest.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Oh no
darling you need a nap also.” she said and gently patted his lap “I insist.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“But I…”he
began but was not allowed to proceed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“William!”
Caroline’s mother smiled as she spoke softly yet quite firmly “If you are to
marry into my family you really must understand that Mother knows best.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Her smile although
sweet conveyed a very clear message – arguing or any form of dissent was
strictly <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">verboten</i> and before he could
answer she added,<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“And perhaps
afterwards you would like to see my collection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I have two of Monet’s mid period inherited from my mother and several
German expressionists and I’m sure you would like to see the sketches Picasso
gave me when I modelled for him. It only took him five minutes but interesting nonetheless.
Of course I’m been hounded to show lend them to New York and London so you will
be the first to see them outside this island.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Oh for
heaven’s sake.” Caroline muttered rolling her eyes in exasperation “What Mother
wants Mother gets.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As if
trebling his allowance was not astounding enough the revelation of such an awe-inspiring
collection had William’s head reeling and he was barely aware of his
surroundings as he climbed the wide ornate staircase between the two women. He
was envisaging exactly which of the German Expressionists she had when he
realised there was a slight tugging at his arms and he finally managed to lift
him out of his stupor. He was quite surprised to find Miss Hargreaves
unbuttoning the last button on his shirt and about to remove it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Ah…what…”he
exclaimed as looking down his trousers and underwear had already been removed
and folded neatly on a chair together with his jacket.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Quite all
right Master William.” she said in a matter of fact way “Nothing I’ve not seen
before. And I should add, nothing to get over excited about.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“But..I
…where…”he spluttered his hands dropping to cover his exposed genitals finally
taking in the luxurious surroundings he found himself in.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“The
mistress’s bedroom, Master William.” Miss Hargreaves answered the unasked
question as she moved to the large bed and returned with a long sleek garment.
“Hands over your head please, I promise I will not look. Not that there’s much
to see.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“But…I…” he
continued to struggle for words.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Madam and
Miss Caroline are in Madam’s dressing room and will be with you momentarily.”
she said sharply gesturing to a room off the bedroom before adding “And I doubt
very much if you wish to be presented <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">au
natural</i>. Now please comply and place your hands over your head like a good
boy.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bx40F4MDoj8/YUCifSXE0ZI/AAAAAAAABHw/ozYx5MRgNAcMFanS9SMmx1PILiaO6BzsACNcBGAsYHQ/s992/A%2BPrice%2BWorth%2BPaying%2BBlog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="709" data-original-width="992" height="229" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Bx40F4MDoj8/YUCifSXE0ZI/AAAAAAAABHw/ozYx5MRgNAcMFanS9SMmx1PILiaO6BzsACNcBGAsYHQ/s320/A%2BPrice%2BWorth%2BPaying%2BBlog.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He closed
his eyes as she placed the multi layered silk night gown over his head and fussed
with it until she was satisfied it was hanging properly.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“The
mistress was correct as always.” she smiled as she arranged a large and ornate
satin bow at the neck placing the two<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>long ribbons neatly as they fell to knees She then gazed at him intently
with what he thought strangely as a look of pride “It fits you perfectly.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“But this is
…”he began before she interjected.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yes a most
beautiful nightgown. The finest silk, of course.” Miss Hargreaves said
adjusting the frills at the shoulder to her satisfaction “One of the mistress’s
favourites. You are a very lucky girl… oh I do apologise… a very lucky young
man indeed.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Is my
darling son in law ready for our nap, Miss Hargreaves?” Caroline’s mother said
as she swept into the room dressed in a full length pink robe of heavy satin
ornamented with ostrich feathers at the cuffs. Caroline accompanied her in
ivory satin robe with a long train.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">His cheeks
turned red and he desperately wanted to leave, he held out the nightgown’s silk
material as if to register a protest. He suddenly remembered the promise to
treble his allowance and not wishing to jeopardise it felt the best course
would be to withdraw without an argument and take his clothes with him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Caroline
shouldn’t we go to your room.” he pleaded.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Oh no dear
my bed is quite big enough for all three of us. It will be so cosy.” her mother
said and moved closer to scrutinise him.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He became
quite flustered and fingered the nightgown’s soft material.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Oh my
darling boy, no need to be embarrassed you look exquisite.” Caroline mother
beamed and embraced him. “Alice was right of course you do make a much better
looking girl.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He tried to
protest but no words would come as she took his hand and led him to the bed
that Miss Hargreaves was busy turning down.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I’ve been
looking forward to having an intimate…ah…”she paused “talk with you since I
heard of your engagement. Miss Hargreaves you can take away Miss William’s
clothes, he won’t be needing them now.”<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Very good,
Madam.” Miss Hargreaves replied with a curtsy.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Really
Mother.” Caroline said as she followed them to the bed “You could have at least
waited until after the ceremony.<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>Carrie Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16356755446225712759noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-91515102466759062742021-03-04T19:25:00.008-08:002021-03-11T14:04:20.440-08:00Swiss Miss Sissy Fanfic<p>Me again. Coincidentally,
within the past six months or so, I’ve been contacted by two different people who
have written their own continuations of “Swiss Miss Sissy,” which, in case you
don’t remember since it’s been a while, was the story that had been originated
by Bea and then taken over by Bambi. It was
very gratifying getting messages of this sort, if only to know that there were
people who enjoyed and were inspired by SMS. As I’ve complained about in
the past, it’s been often difficult to discern if the story was attracting much
of an audience. That said, there were
elements within both of those continuations that I felt made them not entirely
suitable for this blog. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The first person to contact me had written their own
epilogue to the story, which, while well written, was also entirely too macabre.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It certainly would not have won over anyone
who already found SMS too twisted for their liking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sent it to Bambi and they agreed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The worst part by far was that the epilogue
ends with the death of the protagonist, Charles/Cheryl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yikes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, I’d be lying if I said that I wasn't also put off by the fact that there’s a description of Cheryl being sexually
violated by a group of men.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Yes, in “Swiss Miss Sissy,” Cheryl is violated by multiple
women, and I’m not saying that one is more okay than the other, but the simple
fact of the matter is that one is a turn-on for me and one isn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m certain there are probably readers of
this blog who are more receptive to the idea of male on sissy sex or whatever, which is totally fine, but if that's the kind of thing you're interested in reading about, I'm sure you can probably find it elsewhere. Naturally, I would hope that LGBT people feel welcome here, but as it says at the top of the page, "A place to collect the thoughts and experiences of heterosexual male cross dressers and transvestites," and I don’t
have any personal interest in veering too far away from that mission
statement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before I discovered Bea’s
stories, I can remember how challenging <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>it was finding anything within the
feminization genre that appealed to my interests as a straight male.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, I consider myself very pro-LGBT (I
actually just got blocked on deviantART a couple weeks ago by this homophobic
Wizard of Oz fan who was mad at me for criticizing him for his anti-gay bigotry), but I
doubt anyone would consider me a homophobe for not wishing to read about a gay
gangbang.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel as though I’ve gotten a
bit more flexible over the years when it comes to what I’m comfortable with,
but I have my limits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </p><o:p></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As I noted, the second continuation I was sent more recently
also had a part that didn’t feel like anything Bea would have really approved
of and didn’t fit with the story that Bambi is (was?) trying to tell, but the
scene I found objectionable was easier to excise, so after this rambling
preamble, I will be sharing it in a somewhat edited form.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">I do feel a bit weird appointing myself the arbiter of what is and isn’t appropriate for this blog and for “Swiss Miss Sissy” specifically, but having been somewhat acquainted with Bea and particularly well acquainted Bea’s work, I believe I have a decent handle on what they would and wouldn’t have been okay with as far as feminization scenarios go. Besides, Bea made me a blog contributor, so I'd like to think that meant that my judgement was trusted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">By the way, this may be the last “Swiss Miss
Sissy” content that gets posted for a while, apart from the one chapter by
Bambi that I’ve yet to share.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because Bambi only managed to complete one additional chapter in a three year span (and because of other stuff I won't go into), I’m sorry to say the future of SMS
very much seems up in the air at the moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s great that other people want to see it continued, but it might be
difficult to find anyone who could take over from where Bambi left off, were
that to become necessary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Technically,
Bambi’s continuation counts as fan fic as well, but after writing several
hundred pages of extra material after Bea, I can’t help grudgingly feeling like it’s as
much Bambi’s story as it is Bea’s at this point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Okay, without further ado, here are the "mini-chapters" I was sent, as they were written, except for the third part which I've shortened slightly by deleting the last half. The author wishes to remain anonymous.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Part 1:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Girl! Come here!"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">I try to force a smile on my face as my mistress summons me, but it's not
easy under the circumstances.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">The fact that my face is barely recognisable as my own doesn't help
matters. Of course, I am wearing make-up thicker than any woman would normally
wear. My cheeks are rogued and my foundation so thick and shiny my skin looks
like it's made out of plastic. my eye make-up is so thick that I look like a
panda (even with my extra-large fake eyelashes), but my lips are what's worst-
not the lipstick on them, I'm used to that, but rather the injections I have
been given to give my lips extra volume, plumping them up to make me look like
I'm seductively pouting even when I'm not trying. Mistress says these
injections will wear off over time, but sometimes I wonder whether or not this
is the case- and sometimes I miss my old, plain face.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">However, the dildo jammed into my mouth is probably the biggest obstacle
preventing me from smiling. Ever since I came back to Mistress Margot's, it
seems like I spend every hour of every day with something in my mouth, either a
(very realistic) dildo or a pacifier. Naturally, ever since she learned of my
'love of the taste of cum', Mistress Margot has ensured that everything I put
in my mouth is coated in my semen. This particular dildo has a reservoir in the
'testicles' (which are currently resting on my chin) that will randomly shoot a
jet of sticky fluid into my mouth every now and again, just to remind me of my
status in life. Sometimes I miss my 'lollipop'.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Of course, my mouth isn't the only place where I've been penetrated.
keeping my anus nice and full (and my hips nice and wiggly) is one of the
biggest butt plugs I've ever worn. It has three 'balls', one stacked on top of
the other, with the bottom one being the widest of all. Every step I take, I'm
reminded of its presence, though this one at least doesn't vibrate, or worse yet,
sent an electric shock through my body- unlike some of the plugs I've worn
since my return to Mistress Margot's. Sometimes I miss my old plugs.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Ever since my return to Mistress Margot's, my bottom has been filled almost
24/7, either by my growing (both in quantity and the 'other way') collection of
plugs and by the seemingly infinite number of dildos Mistress Margot owns, many
of which I'm forced to sit on in the penalty box for what feels like hours at a
time for her amusement. Sometimes I'm forced to watch as the dildo causes my
tummy to bulge outwards.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">My clitty is encased in a solid cage, keeping it tightly under wraps and
preventing any hope of an erection. My testicles- such as they are- are held in
solid clamps and the entire thing is held underneath a flesh-coloured gaff that
makes my front look entirely smooth and featureless. Every second I wear the
contraption, it feels like someone is squeezing my genitals, crushing them in
an invisible hand. As humiliating as they were, sometimes I miss my old
comfortable crotchless panties. Though it could be worse, I suppose- at least
this cage doesn't have a urethra plug as well...<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Adding to the restriction on my crotch is my outfit for the day. My torso
is encased in a black latex leotard that's so tight it feels like a second
skin. the top of the leotard is low-cut enough to show the cleavage of the
GG-cup breasts Mistress Margot had affixed to my chest- the nipples of which
are, of course, attached to my own flesh and blood nipples with clamps and
easily accessible through the shiny material of the leotard. Attached to the
top of the leotard is a tight, high collar that feels like it's both stretching
my neck upwards and about to strangle me at any moment, and wrapped around me
is a jet black corset as tight as anything Miss Brigitt ever laced me into,
bringing my waist down to an excruciating 18 inches. Sometimes I miss my old
corsets and maid's dresses.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">The only parts of my outfit that are even remotely tolerable are the
shoulder-length black latex gloves covering my arms and the fishnet tights
covering my legs, but by far the worst part of my outfit are my boots, worse
even than the plug in my backside and the dildo in my mouth. Like the rest of
my outfit, the boots are latex, and come up to just below my crotch, but the
feet have been shaped so that my feet point directly downwards, forcing my
weight onto the tips of my toes like a ballerina. Every step is painful, and
the chain between my legs ensures that I have to take many, many steps to get
where I'm going. Fortunately, these ballet boots are only used sparingly, on
'special occasions' (most of the time I wear 'normal' high heels instead) but
sometimes I really, really miss my old high heels.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">I simper and flutter my (ridiculously large fake) eyelashes to Mistress
Margot as I mince toward her and serve her her drink. The last two months have
been hell. I've been a maid in a tiny low-cut dress, I've been a Playboy Bunny
in a tight satin bodysuit, a ballerina in a wide, flat tutu and stiff pointe
shoes, a cheerleader in a tiny miniskirt, a showgirl in a skin-tight leotard, a
schoolgirl in a frivolous uniform and a slutty secretary in a skin-tight pencil
mini skirt and sky-high heels. I've spent days at a time dressed as a baby
wearing a diaper, a onesie, woollen tights and a frilly dress, or as a princess
in a big, ostentatious gown, but one thing I have never, ever been allowed to
be, even for one second, is male. I am what I am, and that is a sissy. I am a
possession, a doll, a bimbo with more teeth than brain cells, something to be
used, to be fucked over and over again and then forgotten about. Every part of
me hates this. But the worst part is that deep down, there's a part of me that
loves this...<o:p></o:p></span></p>Part 2:<p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Time to wake up, sissy!" Miss Bernardette calls, waking me from
my slumber. I didn't respond- the pacifier in my mouth prevented me from making
any noise- but I tried to smile as a way of acknowledging my wake-up call.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">I let out several sighs of relief as Miss Jeanne unties the restraints the
secured me to my bed, before grunting as Miss Bernardette scoops me up in a
bridal carry, putting pressure on the extra-large plug in my anus. I'm taken to
a pre-prepared 'changing area' in one of the home's many spare rooms, where I'm
laid on a plastic mat and the snap crotch of my onesie is undone, before my
diaper- which, humiliatingly, saw use during the night- is removed and I'm
cleaned up. After my plug is removed and I'm allowed to empty my bowels, I'm
returned to the changing area, where my bottom is wiped (I'm not allowed to do
it myself- mistress sees it as no different from me sexually gratifying myself)
and I am given my traditional morning enema and taken to the shower.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Once I'm completely clean on the inside and the outside, I'm taken back
into the room where I'm sat down in a make-up chair and my pacifier is, at long
last, removed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Do not take this as permission to speak, sissy!" Miss Jeanne
warns me. "You will be happy to hear that your time as mistress's little
baby has ended! It's time you grew up a little." I remained silent as Miss
Jeanne and Miss Bernardette shared a private laugh- I've been here long enough
to learn that whatever happens next, it will not be a favour to me and pretty
soon I'll be begging to return to my diapers and onesies.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"We will leave your make-up until later," Miss Bernardette
explains, making my heart sink and my stomach churn. The only reason they would
do this is if they were afraid I would cry and spoil my make-up- which can mean
only one thing.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Sure enough, seconds later, Miss Jeanne produces the chastity cage I'll be
wearing today, waving it menacingly in front of my face as I squirm.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Like all cages, it's uncomfortable enough as it's wrapped around my clitty,
and the additional clamps around my testicles only make it worse, but the worst
part is by far the thin, flexible plastic tube protruding from the end of the
cage. As my 'handlers' expected, and despite the 'experience' I have with these
tubes, I shed a few tears as it's slid past my glans and into my urethra, each
movement becoming more and more uncomfortable until all four inches of it are
buried deep within my clitty, and a series of loud snaps confirms that my cage
is in place and won't be going anywhere any time soon.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Surprisingly, my butt plug isn't next, but my panties- and when Miss Jeanne
said I'd be wearing more grown-up attire, she wasn't kidding. The panties are
made of a shiny black latex, and are both crotchless and backless- which only
makes me worry all the more why my butt plug hasn't been inserted yet.
Naturally, it takes several minutes for the panties to be slid into position
(or rather, it takes several minutes for my hips to be squeezed into position),
and once they are, hold-up latex stockings in the same colour are rolled up my
legs.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">With my stockings in place, my corset is next. In keeping with today's
'theme', it's made of black latex and very tightly boned, taking my waist down
to under 20" and almost pushing my breasts up to my chin once it's laced
shut and a thick latex collar is wrapped around my throat.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">With everything 'in place', my make-up is applied. As per usual, it's a
thick, shiny foundation that gives my skin a waxy, almost plastic look. Thick
light blue eye shadow is next, followed by heavy fake eyelashes and more
eyeliner than most women wear in a week. My heart then sinks as Miss Jeanne
produces a familiar-looking syringe from a drawer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"It's been a while, hasn't it, sissy?" Miss Jeanne asks with a cruel
smile.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Yes, Miss Jeanne," I reply, before wincing (and trying not to
cry) as my lips are filled with the solution that I'm told (and I really hope)
is temporary, before being coloured a dusky pink colour. As I stare at my
reflection in the mirror, I become keenly aware of the cage around my clitty- I
am literally every boy's wet dream, and things are only going to get worse
before we're done.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">My hair is tied high atop my head, and a frivolously tiny maid's cap is
pinned to it, giving away what my costume for today will be- and sure enough,
Miss Bernardette returns seconds later with my dress. It's a maid's dress, but
completely strapless, held up only by its tightness around my waist and a few
pins securing it to my corset, and shows off a lot of cleavage. The single
petticoat puffs out the tiny skirt, giving a view of my thighs above my
stocking tops and only barely covering my caged clitty.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Bicep-length latex gloves are next, before loud, dangly hoop earrings are
pushed through my lobes and shiny jet-black pumps with 6" stiletto heels
are attached to my latex-encased feet, signifying that my look for today is
complete- though I can't help but note that one thing is still missing.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Mistress, may we present a vision in latex!" Miss Jeanne
announces as I mince into the room on my suicidally high heels and perform a
curtsey.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"My my," Mistress breathes as she examines me. "You have
outdone yourselves this time! Tell me, Cheryl, do you like being encased in
latex?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Yes, mistress," I lie.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"What is your favourite things about it?" Mistress asks, making
me stare at her in terror.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Umm, uh-" I stammer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Girls, I do believe she loves so much about it she can't pick a
single thing!" Mistress says, making her employees snigger.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Maybe we should make her wear a catsuit and ballet boots
tomorrow!" Miss Bernardette laughs.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Or seal her in the vacuum bed again!" Miss Jeanne suggests,
making me shiver with terror.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Girls?" Mistress asks as she lifts my dress and petticoat at the
back. "I do believe you've forgotten something?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Really?" Miss Bernardette asks. "Funny, Cheryl didn't
mention anything..."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Didn't she now?" Mistress asks, giving my bare bottom several
bare-handed smacks that leave it stinging and my cheeks burning with shame.
"Well, fortunately, I have just the thing for that!"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"I thought you might," Miss Jeanne said as Mistress went to fetch
something from a cupboard behind me. "Remember, sissy- no peeking!" I
gulped and did as I was told, facing forward with a vacant expression on my
face as I heard what sounded like a box opening behind me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Seconds later, I felt the familiar sensation of a lube-coated finger
entering my anus, before I squirmed as my plug for today was inserted into me-
though this one felt very different than normal. It wasn't very wide, but was
longer than usual, taking longer to insert its entire length, and it felt like
it was made from a stiff latex, rather than the usual metal or hard plastic
ones I wear. Once it was fully inserted, I also became aware of a weight
hanging from the plug, threatening to pull it out of my anus and forcing me to
clench even harder than usual to keep it in place. However, I was to discover
that this was only the beginning of my discomfort for the day.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Now, Cheryl," Mistress said, holding up a device that I quickly
realised was identical to the one in my backside. "This is your plug for
today. You will notice that it has two parts to it. This bit-" mistress
playfully squeezed the phallic end of the plug- "is currently in your
little sissy hole, keeping it nice and full. But this bit-" mistress
gently stroked the part that looked like a small lemon- "is the special
part. As when I give it a squeeze..." My eyes widened with horror as
mistress squeezed the 'lemon', causing the plug to inflate. Two further
squeezes made it larger than any plug I had ever worn.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"But why merely show you?" Mistress asked with a wicked smile.
"Let me demonstrate... ooh, looks like you're having to clench extra-hard
to keep that plug in place, Cheryl! Want me to pump it up to help keep it up
there?" I'd lived there long enough to know that there was only one
correct answer to that question.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Yes, mistress," I replied.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Ask me nicely, Cheryl," Mistress ordered.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Please, mistress," I asked in my sweetest, most simpering voice,
"would you pump up my butt plug to help keep it in place?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Why, certainly, Cheryl!" Mistress replied, and despite myself, I
grunted as I felt the pressure inside my backside increase. "There's one
for you-" I whimpered as I felt the plug inflate a second time. "-and
one for me."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Don't forget about us!" Miss Jeanne asked, making me tremble
with fear. The plug already felt massive as it was...<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Should I, Cheryl?" Mistress asked. Again, despite my discomfort,
I knew that there was only one correct answer to the question.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Yes, mistress," I replied, before clenching my teeth (not to
mention my backside) as I prepared for the inevitable. However, my plug didn't
inflate further- instead, mistress came and sat in front of me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Maybe later," mistress said, earning playful 'aww's from her two
employees. "You may go now. Leave me alone with Cheryl."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Thank you, boss," Miss Jeanne said, before addressing me with a
cruel tone of voice. "Try not to get too greedy with that pump...
Cheryl!" I gulped as Mistress regarded me with a look of sheer lust in her
eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"You'll be happy to hear, Cheryl," Mistress said, "that this
plug does deflate." Mistress demonstrated by pressing on a valve on the
side of her 'demonstration' plug, quickly bringing it back down to its normal
size. "However, we won't be doing that immediately, will we, Cheryl?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"No, mistress," I replied.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Instead, you and I are going to play a little game," Mistress
said. "I have asked Jeanne and Bernardette to hide my other six of these
plugs- I do want to have plenty to 'play' with, after all- around the house.
For each one you find, I will reduce the pressure in your backside. For each
one I find, I will increase it! Eight pumps, my oh my..." I watched with
terror as mistress inflated the plug eight times, which inflated it to almost
the size of my head. "Shall we begin?"<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">Part 3:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Wakey wakey!" Miss Bernadette coos, her voice's typical sadistic
twang making me cringe as my eyes flutter open. "We've got some nice new
toys for you to play with today! Aren't we kind and thoughtful to you,
sissy?" I batted my eyelashes playfully in an attempt to respond, but this
clearly wasn't enough for the intimidating woman, who simply frowned at me.
"Well, sissy? Aren't you going to thank me?" Again, I blinked and
fluttered my eyelashes, my heart race increasing as Bernadette's frown deepened.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Maybe the nice, fat cock in her mouth is what's stopping her from
responding?" Miss Jeanne says, barely suppressing a giggle as she points
at the dildo that was left in my mouth overnight, which caused my jaw to ache
and the harness it was strapped into to leave an uncomfortable mark on both
cheeks.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Oh, silly me!" Miss Bernadette giggles. "But she could at
least have nodded, couldn't she?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"With that posture collar around her neck?" Miss Jeanne replies
with a sadistic snigger.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Well let's get both of those off, so that sissy CAN answer my
question," Miss Bernardette says, before pausing. "Unless... You DO
want us to remove them, don't you?" Yes! Of course I do! I think to
myself, but in my immobilised, dominated state, all I can do is playfully
flutter my eyelashes once again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"I do think she wants us to help her take them off!" Miss Jeanne
giggles.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"I don't know," Miss Bernardette says, making me groan with
frustration once again. "Have you ever got between a sissy and her
lollipop before? You would not believe the pouting!"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">This teasing continues for almost five minutes before the dildo is finally
slid out of my mouth, my jaw so tired and aching all I can do is moan sweetly.
I moan yet again when my chastity cage is removed- though as has become the
norm, my cheeks burn with embarrassment when my clitty immediately springs
erect, earning howls of laughter from my two tormentors.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"She has only just woken up and already she is ready to play!"
Miss Jeanne says between giggles.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Normally I would play with her!" Miss Bernardette says, making
me shudder at the memory of what her 'playing' entails. "But today she
needs to get ready early. Mistress has a meeting, and our pretty little sissy
must look the part. And you know what that means, right?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Oh," Miss Jeanne says in an exaggerated way, as though she's
just remembered something. "The new 'attachment', right?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Right," Miss Bernardette says, before rolling her eyes at my
shudder. "Do not be so anxious, sissy girl! We will not be putting
anything in you!"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Not yet, anyway!" Miss Jeanne teases. "Shall we leave her
plug in?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"No," Miss Bernardette replies. "It needs changing anyway,
and I want to 'test' the new attachment first." I grunt as the large woman
forcefully rolls me onto my side, before yelping in pain as my extra-large butt
plug is removed from my anus in one sharp, swift motion. Naturally, the relief
of no longer being 'filled' causes my erection to stiffen even more- though I
quickly learn that this is far from a good thing when Miss Bernardette grabs my
clitty in one hand, places a condom over it and begins to painfully squeeze
both it and my sissy jewels.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Here it is!" Miss Jeanne says, holding up the 'attachment' for
me to see. On first glance, it's almost identical to a thong, or a g-string,
only made of flesh-coloured latex, but on closer examination, it's clearly more
than that- on the gusset of the 'thong' are a pair of lips, clearly simulating
a labia, and just above that is a tuft of blonde pubic hair. As Miss Jeanne
slides it up my legs, I realise that it's also clearly far too small for me,
and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Miss Bernardette seems to realise
this as well as she painfully manipulates my clitty into the internal 'pouch'
of the fake vagina, practically bending it in half before it will fit inside
and be out of sight.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"There!" Miss Bernardette says, raising me to my shaking feet and
standing me in front of a full-length mirror. "Take a look at yourself,
Cheryl! What do you see in the mirror?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"I see sissy Cheryl Rosatunte," I reply in the way that's been
endlessly drilled into me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Really?" Miss Bernardette asks. "Look at yourself again. If
you didn't know who you were- and let's face it, you barely do- what would you
think you saw when you looked in the mirror?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"...A naked woman," I mumble, my cheeks burning. Because I don't
just see a naked woman, but a beautiful naked woman with large, jiggling
breasts, a tiny waist, long blonde hair, thick pouting lips and, most
importantly, a quivering labia- exactly the kind I would masturbate over for
hours when I was alone in my apartment...<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Right," Miss Bernardette says. "And what feelings do you
get when you see a naked woman?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"I feel excited," I mumble shamefully.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Right!" Miss Jeanne says with a wicked giggle. "And how
would you feel if a naked woman flirted with you?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"I- I-" I stammer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"If you don't know, that's alright," Miss Bernardette says.
"I can easily believe that no naked woman has ever flirted with you! But,
there is a way to find out. Blow a kiss to the girl in the mirror,
Cheryl."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Miss- Miss Ber-" I stammer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Are you deaf as well as stupid?" Miss Bernardette scolds.
"Blow her a kiss. Now!" With shaking hands, I blow a kiss at my
reflection, shivering with delight as the goddess in the mirror blows a kiss
back at me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"I think the little sissy likes it!" Miss Jeanne snorts. "I
wonder how she would feel if the girl in the mirror teased her by rubbing her
breasts?" Knowing better than to argue, I immediately start playing with
my breasts, and as my fingers cross my nipples at the same time as the girl in
the mirror, I feel my whole body start to tingle. And yet, thanks to the
restriction on my clitty, I'm still as limp as a piece of wet lettuce.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"What do you suppose would happen if she played with her new
vagina?" Miss Bernardette asks, and with a tentative, shaking finger, I
gently stroke the outline of my new labia. The sight of the girl in the mirror
doing this causes an electric shock of pleasure to shoot through my body,
especially as her lips pout at me and she leans her head back in pleasure...<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"I think the 'attachment' is working!" Miss Jeanne giggles from
behind me. "Though I think we need one more test..." I immediately
tense up as I feel a familiar hard, rounded surface poke into the small of my
back, before slowly tracing its way down, tentatively exploring between my
buttocks before pushing between my thighs, forcing me up onto my tiptoes as its
length rubs against my 'labia'.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">The feeling of having a cock poking between my thighs is one I'll never get
used to, despite my mistress's repeated attempts. Its thick, fleshy surface and
its firm girth are a constant reminder of my place in life- namely, on the
bottom, while the 'real' men are on the top. But as bad as it feels between my
thighs, I know that things are about to feel a hundred times worse.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Sure enough, after mere seconds of teasing, Miss Jeanne bends me over, and
the dildo finds its way home, filling my sissy hole completely with every
thrust. It isn't long before my eyes are rolling back into my head and I feel
myself start to melt with the rhythm of the thrusts, though as much as I want
to, my clitty simply will not get hard due to the latex restrictions
surrounding it.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">However, this doesn't stop me from ejaculating, and moaning like a slut
with every squirt until my mouth is filled by the dildo hanging from Miss
Bernardette's crotch. Together, the two strong women rhythmically pump both of
my holes, even lifting me off the bed as they use me like the sex toy that I
have become. Eventually, with my whole body feeling like it's made out of
jelly, the dildos are withdrawn and I'm unceremoniously dumped back onto the
bed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"I do believe it has worked!" Miss Jeanne says, roughly opening
my legs to inspect my 'labia'. "Not a drop spilled and not a hint of an
erection! I think we're ready to prepare her for her day. Bernardette, would
you change the sissy, please?" I internally cringe as I'm reminded that
despite the abuse my mouth and backside have just taken, my day is only just
beginning.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">An hour later, I'm stood in front of the full-length mirror, staring at my
reflection with a look of lust and disbelief on my face. Today's look was
intended to be 'secretary', but as is always the case, that barely even starts
to describe my appearance. I'm wearing a suit and heels, but the heels are
6" high, as slender as I've ever worn and are forcing my feet into an
almost vertical position. The jacket is fitted to my tiny waist and barely contains
my giant breasts, while the skirt only just comes to the top of my stocking
tops and is skin-tight, still hobbling my stride despite its obscenely short
length. And the entire outfit, much like the thick eye shadow and glossy
lipstick I'm wearing, is an almost neon shade of bubblegum pink. As are the
2" long dagger-like false nails I'm wearing on my fingertips. Underneath
my jacket is a tight black satin corset that takes my waist down to an
agonizing 18", attached to which are dark seamed stockings that seem to
emphasise the pinkness of my whole outfit, and underneath my skirt is a
frivolously lacy black thong, through which the outline of my 'vagina' can
clearly be seen. The rear strap, however, is prevented from nestling between my
buttocks by a giant butt plug, almost six inches long and two inches wide at
its widest point- almost as big as my first 'lollipop'. Needless to say, the
outline of the flared base of the butt plug can easily be seen through my tight
skirt as well. My whole look is completed with a cloud of strong-smelling
perfume, tons of cheap, tacky 'gold' jewellery, including two pairs of large
hoop earrings and a dainty ankle bracelet, and with my hair tied into a tight,
high bun. No part of me looks even remotely masculine, but no self-respecting
woman would ever look this ridiculous- and this is because, as I'm constantly
reminded with every step I take, I'm not a woman, but a sissy- a cheap, tacky
sex toy who loves every second of being dressed as humiliatingly as this.
Whether I like it or not...<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"I believe Sissy Secretary Cheryl is ready to take dictation,"
Miss Bernadette says in a cruel, teasing voice.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"With the emphasis on 'dick'!" Miss Jeanne laughs. "My god,
have you ever seen anyone look so ridiculous? So pink? So sissy?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"This is the look the mistress wants on our dear sweet Cheryl,"
Miss Bernadette. "After all, we must make sure the merchandise is
presented properly!"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"M- merchandise?" I ask, my cheeks immediately blushing as the
two towering women stare at me angrily.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Speak only when you are spoken to, girl!" Miss Jeanne snaps. The
room is filled with silence as my tormentors' stares grow angrier. As much as
it fills me with shame, I know what I must do next.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Silly sissy Cheryl apologises and begs for forgiveness," I simper,
bobbing as deep a curtsey as my short, tight skirt and giant butt plug will
allow.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"You're forgiven," Miss Bernadette says in a dismissive voice.
"For now. We were about to tell you about the merchandise anyway."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Have you not wondered how your kind and wonderful mistress can afford
her lifestyle?" Miss Jeanne asks. 'Kind' and 'wonderful', I think to
myself. "To keep you in the wonderful clothes you love?"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Not to mention keeping wonderful things inside you?" Miss
Bernadette asks, making me squeak as she gives my butt plug a firm push. I
start to tremble again as the women's eyes grow angrier, clearly expecting an
answer from me- and there is only ever one right answer.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"...No, mistresses," I reply. "I am only a sissy, and I do
not think about such hard things."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Well then, let me explain it to you," Miss Jeanne says.
"And you were so close when you said 'hard things'! All of these wonderful
dildos and butt plugs that you have enjoyed so much in the last few weeks? Your
mistress has manufactured them."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Nothing sells sex toys quite like 'tested on a real-life
sissy'!" Miss Bernadette laughs. "Especially when mistress has made
innovations like the squirting dildos, self-lubricating dildos, the ones that
you have to make erect before you can use them..." I barely suppress a
shudder as I think about the many phalluses that have entered my body in one
way or another over the last few weeks- Miss Bernadette's 'recap' has barely
scratched the surface.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Your mistress has a business meeting today with five potential
buyers," Miss Jeanne says. "You will be showing off five new dildos
she has designed. And wipe that terrified look off your face! You will not be
taking them anally in the meeting."<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"Now she looks disappointed!" Miss Bernadette teases. "No,
you will just be showing them off, like a glorified mannequin. Only with less
brains and more plastic!" I try to retain my composure as Miss Bernadette
gives one of my extra large breasts a squeeze, the nipple clamp within
transferring the feeling through to my own flesh.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">"The meeting will start in half an hour," Miss Jeanne advises.
"Better practice your walk, sissy!"<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">I waste no time in doing as I'm told and slowly mince back and forth across
the room. And 'mince' scarcely does my gait justice. The sheer height of the heels
force my feet almost vertical, which forces my entire torso forward such that
if it weren't for my corset, I'd almost certainy be bent double. However,
despite the constriction of the corset, the sheer size of my breasts means they
jiggle with every step- something I can't not feel thanks to my nipple clamps.
The tightness of the miniskirt around my thighs hobbles me just as much as any
ankle-length skirt I have ever worn (and there have been many), and the sheer
size of the butt plug means I can barely move at all.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">But move I must, as the swift, stinging lash of Miss Bernadette's crop on
my thighs reminds me. Miss Bernadette must have lashed me a hundred times as I
learned to walk all over again, whipping me every time I stumbled, or leaned
forward too far, or took too long a stride, or even if I dared to tug the hem
of my skirt any lower. But eventually, I was deemed 'ready' for presentation to
mistress and her clients.<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>rocketdavehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00574717380856957685noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-21448434328572151282021-02-17T17:23:00.009-08:002021-02-20T16:10:41.813-08:00V-Day, Part 3<p>Those of you who don't follow me on <a href="http://rocketxpert.deviantart.com" target="_blank">deviantART</a> may not have seen the comic I posted there over the weekend. It's the third installment in what has turned out to be a series of Valentine's Day-centric commissions from my frequent collaborator, TG author James Craft.</p><p>First, if you didn't see the previous two installments or don't remember them, here are the links to those as well:</p><p><a href="https://beastv.blogspot.com/2017/02/diy-valentine.html">https://beastv.blogspot.com/2017/02/diy-valentine.html</a></p><p><a href="https://beastv.blogspot.com/2018/02/anything-you-can-do_14.html">https://beastv.blogspot.com/2018/02/anything-you-can-do_14.html</a></p><p>And this is the most recent and hopefully final installment:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZUuS2kF-tt8/YDGk-49oudI/AAAAAAAABeY/A6nmHz-B7bofLKWS2pPUGyv1hQRmUJcEQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1610/v-day%2B3%2Bpage%2B1_edited-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1610" data-original-width="1014" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZUuS2kF-tt8/YDGk-49oudI/AAAAAAAABeY/A6nmHz-B7bofLKWS2pPUGyv1hQRmUJcEQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/v-day%2B3%2Bpage%2B1_edited-1.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F-9mSB6h6V0/YC2xs1AaVjI/AAAAAAAABdw/5wUab4pPzoIDjkIkMN2gbN0zXtsIBb7UwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1625/v-day%2B3%2Bpage%2B2_edited-1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1625" data-original-width="1092" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F-9mSB6h6V0/YC2xs1AaVjI/AAAAAAAABdw/5wUab4pPzoIDjkIkMN2gbN0zXtsIBb7UwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/v-day%2B3%2Bpage%2B2_edited-1.jpg" /></a></div><br /></div>To be honest, I initially lost much of my enthusiasm for this commission once I realized it was essentially just a rehash of the last one: unwitting guy gets feminized by a sexy neighbor lady, aided by the guy she feminized in the last comic, and then they end up acting as maids for her and her friends. It's starting to feel repetitive. However, the truth is, being the perfectionist that I am, I was less than satisfied with how some of the artwork in the second part turned out, so I saw this as an opportunity to redeem myself, in a sense, by doing a better job this time around. <div><br /></div><div>I'm still quite proud of the first part, which I titled "DIY Valentine." I think it worked perfectly well as a standalone thing and didn't need to be a series... or if James was going to turn it into a series, he could at least have tried to come up with a more intelligible plot while he was at it. Anyway, I don't mean to grumble; I am pretty happy with how this third part turned out. I ought to be, considering I spent probably the equivalent of a full work week on these two pages. </div>rocketdavehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00574717380856957685noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-28014001415556759642020-12-11T16:12:00.005-08:002020-12-29T10:12:20.169-08:00New/Old Art<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4ZX8hMvmzGY/X9PRKFT-6lI/AAAAAAAABaI/bIiOr2QOGBsRhb1P8RLAeWPNqmW7IH0dwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/pink_edited-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1444" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4ZX8hMvmzGY/X9PRKFT-6lI/AAAAAAAABaI/bIiOr2QOGBsRhb1P8RLAeWPNqmW7IH0dwCLcBGAsYHQ/w451-h640/pink_edited-2.jpg" width="451" /></span></a></div><p><span style="font-family: arial;">This series of images was commissioned by author James Craft back in early 2015, using characters I had created for some of my earliest feminzation art. Though I'd been paid for it long ago, I only finished inking it and added color about five months back. Even then, I kept putting off posting it online because I'd intended to add dialogue, but I could never find the energy/inspiration. </span></p><p></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"></p><p></p><p style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">What kind of jerk takes half a decade to finish a simple art commission that shouldn't require more than a week, tops? Well, you see, when I showed James the sketches, he liked them so much that he proposed we expand what was intended to be a one-off "comic" of sorts into a full-fledged illustrated story. I was actually pretty excited about the idea. The thought of doing a story involving these characters had crossed my mind before, though I had serious doubts that my ability to write would be as good as my ability to draw.</span></p><span style="font-family: arial;">While I did once win an award for a story I wrote in fifth grade, I think the main reason for that was because the kids who voted for it had liked my illustrations. To be honest, I struggled so much coming up with an idea for my story, I looked at a bunch of my old Cricket magazines for inspiration and basically ripped-off the premise from one story to use in my own. In my defense, it was not an original idea to begin with, but rather something of a well-worn trope in fiction (characters panic over a spooky noise than they later discover is something innocuous). Hey, at least I was more original than the kid who I realized years later had totally plagiarized a story by Richard Matheson. </span><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;">I'm afraid that any feminzation story I'd try to write would probably end up being a mish-mash of stolen ideas from other stories. A collaboration with an established writer would take a lot of the pressure off. Although the books I've illustrated for James Craft in the past have not been my cup of tea, I figured I could steer him away from any areas I was uncomfortable with. Besides, I don't have the knack for writing that he has, plus we've always gotten along really well.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">Unfortunately, after a few fits and starts, the project never really got off the ground. I mostly blame myself. For one thing, I felt ridiculously protective of these characters that I'd never fleshed out or even named, so I shot down all of James' ideas as not being suitable, though he had precious little to go off of when I had failed to establish who they were or what their relationship to each other was. But even after I came up with an idea that we were both happy with, I felt like we just couldn't get on the same page. While James and I often seem to have different preferences when it comes to femization fiction, I think a big problem was that I was too shy to articulate what I wanted to see in a story. Maybe I just don't know what I want. While I can concoct various feminization scenarios, I'm not sure how to keep it interesting once the guy is fully feminized. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">I stopped working on his commission once we started talking about a collaboration because I didn't know if I'd have to make changes to the art later to suit the story we were going to write. Even so, once we amicably agreed to put that collaboration on the backburner indefinitely, I should have just finished the commission then and there. It's been a source of guilt that I let it gather dust for so long afterward. Just to give a sense of how long it's been, above one of the sketches, I wrote "Ready Player 1," presumably because I heard someone mention that title and I thought it might be something worth looking into later (though it probably wasn't and I never did). In the time it took me to finish this one stupid commission, Steven Spielberg made a whole movie out of this book I hadn't even heard of when I started sketching. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">*************************************************************</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">More recently, I've been working on another comic for James Craft, and it's also taking longer than I'd like, but that's partly because it started out being six pages, then turned into twelve, and now it's closer to <strike>thirty</strike> forty, all because James kept coming up with ideas. Still, I would have finished it long ago were it not for my laziness and all-too frequent periods of depression. I would love to do more sequential art in the future, and even maybe get to the point where I could make a living off my art, but the achingly slow progress I've made with this project has made that dream feel less viable... which makes me depressed, which makes it harder to concentrate on my art, etc. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;">The comic I'm working on now is something James plans on publishing (which is something he failed to communicate to me at first, to my frustration), so I'm unable to give people the opportunity to see much of what I've done so far, which sucks, as I truly feel that it's some of my best work to date. However, I have been given permission to share a couple small excerpts at least.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VSaRNB2ry84/X9PxQaayrkI/AAAAAAAABaY/YXIZiQm5p90sA9fNwD8-VzuPIdoQObO-wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1991/passport%2Bphotos.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="478" data-original-width="1991" height="154" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VSaRNB2ry84/X9PxQaayrkI/AAAAAAAABaY/YXIZiQm5p90sA9fNwD8-VzuPIdoQObO-wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h154/passport%2Bphotos.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /> </span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-unDiFYwd-1k/X9PxMN2vuTI/AAAAAAAABaU/juk4tu0akZU-0NZhRnFAPAlHPaeqtrKjwCLcBGAsYHQ/s969/new%2Bpage%2B11%2Bpanel%2B1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: arial;"><img border="0" data-original-height="727" data-original-width="969" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-unDiFYwd-1k/X9PxMN2vuTI/AAAAAAAABaU/juk4tu0akZU-0NZhRnFAPAlHPaeqtrKjwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h480/new%2Bpage%2B11%2Bpanel%2B1.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><p></p><p></p><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: arial;">The end of that statement is supposed to be, "...it was worth the wait." Once it's complete, I really hope the same can be said about this comic. <br /></span><p></p><p><br /></p></div>rocketdavehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00574717380856957685noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-67822777528526454572020-03-12T04:30:00.002-07:002020-03-12T06:21:14.222-07:00Castre's Walking the Dog<br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Has anyone seen this month's artwork by Castre in Petticoat Punishment Monthly? If you haven't, it's called “Walking
the Dog”, and it depicts a man in ladies’ clothes walking a tiny dog along a
town street, under the watchful gaze of several, equally elegantly dressed
ladies. The link to the picture is <a href="http://petticoated.com/0320/walkingthedog.jpg">here</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="501" data-original-width="800" height="250" src="https://petticoated.com/0320/walkingthedog.jpg" title="Walking the Dog" width="400" /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Castre is, together with Christeen,
artist-in-residence at <a href="http://www.petticoated.com/">petticoated.com</a>, which publishes a piece of her artwork
each month. Yes, I did just assume her gender, but come on, there are no ‘he’s
in this business. We’re all girlies here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">In her art, Castre uses photo collage to depict
different scenes of men dressed as ladies. Heads of, almost invariably balding middle
aged men, are photoshopped on otherwise fully feminine bodies with rather
exaggerated breasts, usually in sumptuous, if a little old-fashioned and
conservative clothes: full skirts, blouses with billowing sleeves, high heels.
The ladies in Castre’s pictures are molded to similar bodily proportions and dressed
in similar styles, though leaning more towards emitting an air of authority.
The dominance of the female figure over the man is present in each picture. The
lady can be either in direct confrontation with the visibly subdued male, or
she can be merely smiling knowingly into the camera while the male figure in
the background is being subjected to some act of humiliation or other. Beside
the submission expressed through their clothes and demeanor, the men in
Castre’s artwork are also shown physically more diminutive than the ladies.
Often, the men are the shortest in the pictures, despite their very high heels.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The prevalent theme in the transgender / forced
feminization fiction genre, both in stories as well as art, is the full
feminization of the male, i.e. that the male ends up looking indistinguishable
from a female. This does not hold true for Castre’s pictures. On the contrary,
the most notable feature of her artwork is that she makes no attempt at
concealing the true gender of the men. Except for an occasional pair of dangling
earrings or an application of lipstick, the faces of her men – in contrast to
their fully feminized bodies – retain their raw masculinity.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">While we can say that as Castre steps one step
before the full feminization, her men are spared some of the torment and
humiliation received by the typical men in the genre, we could as well argue
that the very same feature makes the humiliation of Castre’s men even greater
than usual as, even when their submission to the females is complete, they are
denied the sanctuary of concealing their true gender. (As a side remark – I’m
sure readers will appreciate that this is difficult to judge for someone who is
yearning to be fully feminized himself ;)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Personally, I have mostly found Castre’s
ultra-realistic choice of depicting unchanged male faces too crude for my
taste. Yet, despite the ultra-realism, her latest work, Walking the Dog, is,
for me, one of the greatest works in the genre, a simply captivating depiction
of the feminization of a man.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Starting with the simply fantastic outfit of
the unfortunate man. He is the central figure in the picture, walking a dog
along a town street and is observed by four ladies, two sharing the same
sidewalk, two from the windows of the houses he is walking by. The man looks
middle aged, with short dark hair crowning his bald spot. A coat of purple lipstick
is the only feminine touch to his face, but it does not so much hide his true
gender as it emphasizes the full extent of its inadequacy. Apart from his face,
he is utterly immersed in femininity. His billowing white silk or satin blouse,
with the usual pair of pointy breast underneath it, is tucked into the high,
pink trimmed waistline of a very, shiny white full mid-calf length skirt, likely
with a petticoat underneath it, and he is wearing white shoes with a rather
high heel. Even the dog is of a miniature breed, to further emphasize the man’s
feminization, and the leash he is holding it by is pink, matching the piping of
his skirt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">What, in my own humble opinion, makes Walking
the Dog stand out from Castre’s body of work is the lady on the left side of
the picture, walking towards our hero. With her, Castre introduces for the
first time a “true outsider” – a lady which is neither actively involved in the
feminization of the man, nor is she an observer, consecrated in the close
circle of those “in the know”. Even by her outfit, it is not hard to take her
for an outsider of Castre’s universe. She is neither drenched in frilly satins
and silks, nor dressed in severely cut skirts and jackets that exude
uncompromising authority. Except for the exaggerated breasts and her high heels
to match anyone else in the picture, her clothes are rather casual. This is
further emphasized with the shopping bag in her hand, with the baguette
sticking out. In fact, the least realistic element on her is the store brand –
who goes to Lidl on heels like that?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">However, what really tells us that she is
neither a forceful participant nor an invited and intended observer of the
man’s humiliation is the frowning expression on her face as she looks at the
man. It conveys both surprise and disapproval of what she sees. We don’t know
how much she knows of the man, but whatever the reason he is dressed in women’s
clothes, there is something to frown about. If he is dressed like that by his
own will, then he is making a mockery of the pretty clothes. If he is forced to
do so, he is making a mockery of his sex, by letting himself be forced into the
situation. Her sentiments are shared by the lady looking on to the man through the
window on the right. With her hair up in rollers and the pussy bow on her white
silk blouse, she looks more at home in Castre’s world, but her frown is
something we have not seen so far, and it lends a touch of real-world reality
to the scene.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The other two other ladies in the picture appear
to be taking the hero’s feminization much more in stride. The lady to the right
of the man, standing by the open door, is laughing heartily at the sight of him.
The brown leather ledger-like handbag in her hands gives her a professional
look. She might be just on her way to work and is therefore another chance
encounter, though unlike the lady on the left, she is obviously amused by the
sight of the feminized man. Then again, she could be the dominatrix that set
the man out on his way, dressed as he is. The open door, and the second lady in
the window of the same house seem to support the latter story – she is observing
the man in the street approvingly, and she does not look the least surprised.
Perhaps it is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">her</i> that has forced the
man out on the street, and is now contentedly savoring the fruit of her
efforts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The finishing touch to the picture, again in my
own humble opinion, is the look shared by the lady on the left and the feminized
man. It looks almost as if the woman witnessing the feminized man is more uncomfortable
with the situation as the man himself. His face does not really show any signs
of great anguish. However embarrassing and humiliating his ordeal may be, he
has already fought his last battle, and – by the looks of it – lost it, too.
For all its humiliation, stepping out into the real world in his utterly feminine
attire simply can’t have any relevant consequence on his life. His fate is now
and forevermore in the hands of the dominant ladies. In the way he looks at the
lady walking in his opposite direction, I read not so much shame and
embarrassment as guilt and apprehension. As if he was feeling guilty for
displeasing her with the way he is dressed, and somewhat fearful of what will
happen as they come closer together.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">It is a touch that, to me, makes the artwork
almost as plausible as a real-life photograph. It is a touch that, to me, makes
it so dangerous. It makes me want to run out the building in women’s clothes
and high heeled shoes. It instills in my mind the idea that this is somehow a
viable lifestyle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08251557995803362070noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-42845137916270419912019-08-07T18:27:00.004-07:002019-08-07T18:27:43.329-07:00The Prescribed ProcedureHi All,<br />
<br />
I've come up with this shortie, when I should have been working on another story, or better yet, getting some sleep.<br />
<br />
Hope you like it.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<b>The Prescribed Procedure</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
By Rosie<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I’m sorry, Gerald,” Sarah turned to
me, “But I’m really getting some hostile vibes from you today. Might I ask what
this is all about?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Yes, you might,” I spat bitterly at
my amazon daughter in law, “It is that we think you’re to blame that our son is
now a woman.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Gerald,” my wife hissed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Well, what, Emily?” I said
defensively, “We’ve talked about this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“We haven’t said <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that</i>,” she said, almost apologizing to
Sarah.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“All I know is,” I said, “Before he
married Sarah, he never showed no sign that he wanted to be a woman.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Well, how would you know?” Sarah
said back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Because he didn’t want to become a
woman, that’s how,” I retorted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“He couldn’t know until he tried,”
she replied, looking at me challengingly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I looked her right back in the eye,
until I felt my wife tug at my hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Gerald,” she said softly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Suddenly, I felt grateful for an
excuse to look away from Sarah’s determined gaze.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Look,” Emily said, with a calming
tone, “All we’re saying is that we find it strange John turned into a woman so
suddenly. I mean, he was never like that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Like I said,” Sarah replied,
“Sometimes it takes a little bit of digging.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“More like pushing, if you ask me,”
I muttered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Gerald,” Emily hissed at me again,
this time genuinely angry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“How can you be sure you’re not <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">like that</i>, too, Gerald?” Sarah said to
me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Huh?” I said back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Ever tried dressing up as a woman,
to see how it feels?” she continued, “After all, maybe these things are
hereditary.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I looked away from her in disgust.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“If I turned your son into a woman,”
she said, “Aren’t you worried I might do the same to you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I kept my gaze on the floor, just
wishing she would go home already.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Gerald!” she said, “Answer me!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Warily, I looked at her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“No,” I said quietly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“No what?” she said, “No, you’re not
afraid I’ll turn you into a woman, or no, you haven’t dressed up as a woman
before?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Both,” I replied, “I mean,
neither.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Why not?” she asked, “Why do you
think I couldn’t?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Because…” I began.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Because you’re a man, right?” she
said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Yes,” I nodded, “That’s right.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You’re a manly man,” she said, “As
manly as they come.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I don’t know about that,” I said,
“But I do know I am a man.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Then you won’t mind putting on a
dress,” she said, “If you’re as manly as you say you are, it won’t turn you
into a woman like it did with John.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“No,” I said, “I’m not putting on no
dress.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Oh, but I really think you should,”
Sarah persisted, “I think that you should, right now, go and put on one of your
wife’s dresses.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Well <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I</i> think you should leave,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I’m not leaving till I’ve seen you
in a dress,” she retorted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I guess you’ll just have to,” I
said, though suddenly feeling much less sure of myself as she took a menacing
step towards me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Gerald,” she said, “If you don’t do
it, I will make you do it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Oh yeah,” I said, “How?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">As I felt another tug on my hand, I
turned to see my wife’s worried face, but before I could reassure her with a
wink and a smile, Sarah pulled my head towards her with her hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I’ll fight you,” she said, “And
then, when I beat you, I’ll make you wear a dress.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I swallowed hard and looked at her,
tilting my head backwards.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Who do you think would win?” she
asked, “If the two of us fought?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“That’s not fair,” I moaned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I’m not asking if it’s fair,” she
said, “I’m asking you if you think you can beat me in a fight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“No,” I admitted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Why not?” she asked, “I thought you
were the manly man.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You’re bigger than me,” I said
through my teeth, “Probably stronger. Younger, too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“There’s no shame in losing a fight,
is there?” she asked, “No one would think you’re any less of a man if you get
beat after putting up a fair fight, even if you get beat by a woman.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I guess not,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“And if you wear a dress because
you’re made to wear one?” she said, “If a woman, stronger than you, makes you
wear a dress, that doesn’t make you any less of a man, does it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I guess not?” I said, warily.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Now, if you know in advance you’re
going to get beat,” she continued, “Why not save yourself the trouble and put a
dress on right away?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Please, Sarah, I don’t want to
fight,” I moaned weakly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Neither do I,” she said, “I will if
I have to, but I’d really prefer not to. So tell you what, I’ll make you a
deal, okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Okay,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“If you go on and put on a dress all
by yourself, I promise I won’t fight you,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You promise?” I repeated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Yes sir,” she nodded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Well, in that case…” I began.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Of course, in that case,” she said,
“In that case you’d be putting on a dress because you’d be too scared to fight
a woman. Now, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that </i>doesn’t sound too
manly too me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“What do you want me to do?” I
wailed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I want you to put on a dress,” she
said and reached towards my shoulder with her hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Emily, help me!” I shrieked as I
pulled away, grabbing her hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Hiding behind your wife, Gerald?”
Sarah said, “Now <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that</i> is real manly.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Emily made no attempt to hide her
disgust as she looked at me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I don’t think we need to worry
about preserving your manhood anymore, do we?” Sarah said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“No,” I repented.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Then why don’t you ask your wife
nicely if she would be so kind to lend you a dress,” Sarah said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Do I have to?” I moaned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Of course not,” she replied, “I’ll
be happy to do it for you, after I’ve whooped your ass in a fight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Emily, honey?” I turned to my wife,
fighting tears of shame, “Could you lend me a dress?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Of course, Gerald,” my wife said
coldly, “Take any dress you like.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Ask for lingerie, too,” Sarah said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Lingerie?” I moaned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Can’t wear a dress without a pretty
bra and panties,” Sarah replied matter-of-factly, “And nylons, too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“May I also borrow some lingerie?” I
asked my wife.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Sure, honey,” she replied, “You can
borrow whatever you want.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Gerald!” Sarah cried happily when I
came to the living room, now wearing Emily’s full skirted, button down blue
polka dot dress, over a white bra and panties set, tan pantyhose and white
teddies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“What a pretty dress you picked!”
she cooed as she hugged me, “It looks really nice on you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I stared blankly at her, not sure
what was going on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Aren’t you going to thank me for
complimenting your dress, Gerald?” she mused.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Thank you?” I said warily.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You’re very welcome,” she said,
“But do you think you could thank me properly?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Properly?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Well, yes,” she said, “Usually when
someone gets all dressed up as nicely as you have, the proper way to repay a
compliment is to put one foot before the other, pluck at the skirts of your
dress then smile prettily and bend your legs at the knees. You think you could
do that for me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I paused for a second, then did as
she told me to and curtsied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Marvelous!” she said and hugged me
again. Then, still hugging me by my shoulder, she led me to the sofa and sat me
down next to her, facing Emily.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Tell me, Gerald,” she said, “Did
you pick this dress right away, or did you see any other dresses you liked?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I guess there was one or two,” I
said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Really?” Sarah said, “What were
they like?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“One was green, but similar to this
one,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“So why did you chose the blue one?”
Sarah asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I tried the green one first, but I
couldn’t close the zipper,” I confessed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Oh, those pesky zippers,” Sarah
said, “What about the second one?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“It was white with blue flowers at
the hem,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Did you struggle with the zipper,
too?” Sarah asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“No, it didn’t have a zipper,” I
said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Why didn’t you wear that one,
then?” Sarah wondered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“It was too short,” I said,
remembering how I awkwardly tried to smooth down the hem to at least make it
seem like it was trying to reach my knees.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Well,” Sarah said, “It looks like
you’ll have plenty of pretty dresses to wear from now on.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“From now on?” I asked, panicking,
“But I thought… I thought this was just a test. I don’t feel like a woman,
really, I don’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Gerald,” she said to me, “Let me
ask you this way, do you feel manly right now?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Not really,” I admitted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Do you feel manlier than me?” she
asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“No, Sarah,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Is that why you’re wearing this
dress?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Yes,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Or,” she said, “Is it the other way
around? Are you wearing the dress because you feel less manly than me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Yes? No?” I said, “I don’t know,
really.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“It doesn’t matter,” she smiled,
“Tell me this, do you feel manlier than your wife?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I looked at Emily with a pleading
expression, hoping that she would somehow still concede to my masculine status.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Hold on,” Emily said, “I can see
what you’re getting at. I won’t say that I completely disagree with you, but
I’m not going to continue your bullying when you’re gone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Nothing like that is needed,” Sarah
said, then turned to me, “Gerald? Answer my question. Do you feel manlier than
your wife?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I… I suppose…,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“In that case, you won’t mind
draping yourself over her knees for a little spanking, will you?” Sarah said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I felt my head swirl.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Please, don’t,” I said weakly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I’m sorry, but I’m not going to
spank my husband,” Emily said, indignant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“That’s a shame,” Sarah said, “Because
either you get a spanking from your wife, or we do the fight that I have
promised you before. Which would you prefer?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“The spanking?” I said weakly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I said no,” Emily said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Looks like it’s you and me, then,”
Sarah said to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“No!” I wailed, “It’s not my fault
Emily doesn’t want to spank me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You’re the man of the house, aren’t
you?” Sarah said, “Then you won’t have a problem getting your wife to spank
you, on your pretty panties, will you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Please, Emily?” I said weakly,
“Otherwise she’ll really hurt me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">My wife stared at me in disbelief.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Ask nicely,” Sarah said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Emily, dear?” I said, feeling tears
trickle down my cheeks, “Would you please spank me on my panties?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">* * *<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat nervously in the waiting room, quietly
rehearsing the lines Sarah had me memorize. Emily glanced impatiently at her
watch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I’m not going to wait around much
longer,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Okay,” I replied weakly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I’ve got stuff to do,” she said,
looking through her handbag.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Just then, the door opened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Davies?” a voice called out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Hearing my last name, I gave my wife
a peck on the cheek and went to the doctor’s office.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Hi, I’m doctor Robert Daniels,” the
elderly, white clad figure said, “Please, come in.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">As he shut the door behind me, I
suddenly noticed Sarah was in the room, too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I trust you’ve met Ms. Brown,” he
said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I…” I stuttered, “Yes, I have.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Of course you have,” he smiled, “That’s
why you were lucky to get such a quick referral. Usually, the waiting time is a
bit longer. Please, sit down.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I did as he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Now, what seems to be your problem?”
he said to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I…” I began, feeling Sarah’s
unforgiving gaze upon me, “Recently, I have tried on women’s clothing and I found
them really comfortable.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I see,” he said, “That’s really not
that uncommon, but you wouldn’t be here to see me just because you found women’s
clothing comfortable, would you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I exhaled, but felt I had no option
but to continue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I feel like they are more
appropriate for me,” I said, “I feel that it is more appropriate for me to look
like a woman.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“And you have felt this way ever
since you first tried women’s clothing?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Yes,” I nodded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“And when was that?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“About a week ago,” I replied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“And you have been wearing women’s
clothes ever since?” he continued.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Yes,” I admitted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Are these your own clothes you’re
wearing right now?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“They’re my wife’s,” I said
blushingly, “Except for the shoes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Right,” he said, “So your wife
helps you with your clothes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“She also helps me with my makeup,”
I said, “And my hair.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Right,” Dr. Daniels said, then
opened a folder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Veronica, is it?” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I beg your pardon?” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I mean, Ms. Davies,” he corrected
himself, “Or is it Mr. Davies, I don’t know, help me out here, please?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Officially, it is still Mr. Gerald
Davies,” Sarah replied with a smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Well then,” Dr. Daniels said, “If
you prefer, I can call you Veronica regardless, what I want to say is this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He shuffled his folder for a bit
more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Sometimes, something can happen in one’s
life that makes us see things completely differently,” he began, “A man, like
you or me, puts on women’s clothing and realizes he wants to live as a woman
from then on. Something like that hits you all of the sudden, by pure
coincidence, and it changes your life forever. Now, I’m not saying what
happened in your case, and a week is usually a very short time, but on Ms.
Brown’s recommendation, I am confident we can already reach a conclusion. You
see, Ms. Brown has been working with me in such cases before, and I suppose I
could say she has a nose for it. I’m not saying that you will want to become a
woman, but it is reason enough for a thorough evaluation.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“If I may say something,” I said,
looking warily at Sarah with the corner of my eye.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Sure,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“The first time I put on a dress,” I
said, “It wasn’t voluntarily.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Oh?” Dr. Daniels said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“No,” I confirmed, “In fact, I was
forced to do so.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I see,” he said and scribbled
something in the file. I could feel a wave of relief washing over me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Well, see here, Mr. Davies,” he
began, “I mean, Veronica. These things come in all shapes and sizes. Some men
do it out of curiosity. Some men do it for a bet. You did it, as you say,
because you were forced to. Why you first dressed up as a woman doesn’t really
matter. What matters is that you keep on doing it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Actually, about that…” I tried to
say, but Sarah placed a hand on my arm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Let Dr. Daniels finish,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Thank you, Sarah,” he said, then
turned to me, “Sarah, I mean Ms. Brown has really been a great deal of help
here, I don’t know what I would do without her. I’m certainly not an expert in
these cases, but as long as she is involved, you can rest assured you will get
the quickest treatment possible. Of course, we follow the prescribed procedures,
but in the last ten, heck, fifteen cases, it has always turned out that she was
a step ahead.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“We have a good history of
collaboration,” Sarah smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Now, Mr. Davies, back to you,” Dr.
Daniels said, “Of course, as much as I trust Ms. Brown’s recommendation, I have
no choice but to follow the prescribed medical procedures. I hope you’re not
too disappointed we can’t turn you into a woman just yet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“No, no,” I said, “In fact…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Sarah silenced me with her hand,
again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“What I propose in such cases is
that the patient starts, or in your case, continues to live as a woman,” he
said, “For a certain amount of time. A year or so, so that we can make sure if
his desire to become a woman is indeed true.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Now, I understand in your case,
that will not be a problem,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Yes,” I said, “I mean, no,” I
corrected myself, “I mean, why?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You are wearing your wife’s clothes,
is that correct?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Yes,” I said, “But…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Well, that makes it easier at the
beginning, if you don’t have to buy a whole wardrobe,” he said, “And you also
said your wife helps you with your makeup and your hair?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Mr. and Ms. Davies are about to
separate,” Sarah explained.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Oh, I see,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I am sure that Ms. Davies will be
perfectly happy to let Mr. Davies continue wearing her old clothes,” she
reassured him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“In that case,” Dr. Daniels said, “Do
you know already where you will live?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I am still looking for a place,” I
said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You can stay with me,” Sarah said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I turned to her in shock.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“What about…?” I began, “Wouldn’t
that…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“If you’re worried about Priscilla,”
she smiled, “We, too, are also getting separated. She’s going back to live with
her mother.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“John is coming home?” I asked
excitedly, “When?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“It’s Priscilla,” Sarah said, “And
just as we speak, actually.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“That means…” I began.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“That means you can come home with
me right away,” Sarah said, “We can stop at the mall so you can buy some pretty
clothes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Fantastic,” Dr. Daniels said, “Now
that this has been arranged, let’s talk about procedures.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Procedures?” I asked worriedly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Hormone treatment,” Dr. Daniels
said, “Maybe even some minor surgery, but it’s too early to talk about that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“But I thought that only comes after
this test period,” I said, “I mean, shouldn’t we make sure I actually want to
become a woman, before you start turning me into one?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Dr. Daniels smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“That’s exactly what I used to
think, too,” he said, “But then Ms. Brown pointed out the error for me. How can
you live like a woman, if you don’t look like a woman?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I stared blankly at him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Now, I don’t want to say you
yourself look like a man right now,” he said, “But you will nevertheless agree
that every single thing helps. Let me see your hand.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">He examined my hand under the
billowy, diaphanous sleeve of my wife’s blouse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I’d say you’re halfway there
already,” he said, “Still…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Before I knew it, I felt a sting in
my upper arm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You will find you don’t have to
shave so much,” he winked at me, “All over.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Was that….?” I tried to ask.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“A booster shot of estrogen,” Sarah
replied, “We’ll come for a follow up in a week.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“In the meantime,” Dr. Daniels said,
“Your skin will become softer, you might notice some swelling around your
nipples, maybe some mood swings. As I’ve said, I would usually wait with this
treatment, but seeing how you will have Ms. Brown to help you, I see no reason
not to delay it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Mr. Davies,” he said solemnly, “You
are in good hands. I am fully confident that Ms. Brown will help you deal with
any obstacle along your path and, to put it this way, I’m sure I won’t be
referring to you as Mr. Davies much longer.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Sarah?” he turned to her, “I don’t
know how to thank you. Ever since you came along, my stats have been amazing. With
Mr. Davies here on the fast tract, they will be even more outstanding.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Oh, I should be thanking you,
Robert,” she smiled back, “After all, with Priscilla moving out, I need a new
toy to keep me busy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08251557995803362070noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-37833401103833755012019-04-11T07:59:00.001-07:002019-04-11T07:59:44.439-07:00Mother's Little Helper - short story with illustration<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sorry
Bea,I haven’t posted anything here for a long time and this is not new so some
readers here may have already have read it, hopefully anyone who have not may
enjoy it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I haven't had a chance to check for typos and grammatical errors so apologies if there are any.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Carrie<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="color: red; font-family: "Kunstler Script"; font-size: 36.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Mother’s Little Helper<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Kunstler Script"; font-size: 8.0pt; line-height: 115%;">B</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Kunstler Script"; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%;">by<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB" style="color: red; font-family: "Kunstler Script"; font-size: 28.0pt; line-height: 115%;">CarrieP</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="color: red; font-family: "Kunstler Script"; font-size: 18.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">Caroline
had literally swept William off his feet although strictly speaking it was a
wave on a secluded beach in the south of France that did that. However she did
pick him up with relative ease after he had been staggering about in the water dazed
and confused like a drunk monkey, much to the amusement of her friends. Being
overpowered by a three foot wave was one thing but now he was engulfed by a
much stronger force and quickly became subsumed by it. They became inseparable and
two weeks later when she proposed he accepted, not that he had much choice in
the matter. The same night she informed him they would live with her mother
until they got married, William was so besotted and if he was to be honest he was
also more than a little intimated by her that he made no objection – it would
have hardly have mattered even if he had dared to do so. </span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 36.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">Her
mother was as charming as Caroline – and even more determined than her
daughter. From their first meeting he was overawed and not a little intimidated
by her personality and when Caroline announced she had to leave for a short
business meeting he pleaded with her to go with her but her mother was adamant
that he should stay to keep her company.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">Just
before leaving as the three of them stood on the steps of her mother’s large
Victorian house set in acres of parkland Caroline told him to ensure he took
good care of her mother and joked – although considering the tone she used he was
unsure if it was a joke – that her mother was in charge of him now and he would
have to do as he was told. He felt a slight unease in his stomach as he watched
her speed down the long driveway. When
her car disappeared from sight his future mother-in-law put a proprietary arm
around his shoulder and pulled him close to her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Caroline’s
absence will allow us to get to know each other better, William” she smiled as
she steered him back inside the house.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">Hearing
the heavy oak door close and the lock snap shut sent a feeling of unease
coursing through his body.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Now
come along, my darling boy.” she said as she slipped her arm into his and
marched him across the large black and white tiled vestibule towards the wide
staircase, “You can help me get dressed, my sister is arriving shortly and I
need to be presentable. She can be quite critical when it comes to matters
sartorial.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“But…you
don’t mean… I…”he stammered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">They
were half way up the stairs before she answered him,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Now
William,” she began a tone of irritation creeping into her voice “You heard
Caroline, I do hope you’re not going to be difficult, I was a headmistress of a
boarding school and I know how to deal with disobedient boys.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">At
first he thought she was joking but she forced a smile which unsettled him even
more<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“But…I…”he
blurted in a half hearted attempt to protest but she cut him off abruptly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Now
as you know Louise, my maid a wonderful girl, has left me quite suddenly due to
a family emergency and a lady of my standing can hardly be expected to dress
without assistance. I’m sure you agree?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
knew it was a rhetorical question and he also knew from her tone that to
protest or disagree would only vex her further.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“You
<b><i>do
</i></b>agree?” she declared more than asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Yes..
of course.” he surrendered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Yes
of course what?” she said sharply, “I thought we agreed how you should address
me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Yes
Mummy.” he replied his eyes falling to the floor as his cheeks blushed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“That’s
a good boy.” she answered “Now please do not have me to remind you again, it
really <b><i>is</i></b> most tiresome.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Yes
Mummy.” he repeated softly so as not incur further displeasure, his cheeks
betraying his shame.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">If
his eyes had met hers he would have seen the smile of satisfaction on her
handsome face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">Another
shiver went down his spine as she closed the bedroom door behind him, he felt trapped
and a creeping anxiety growing inside him s he watched her stride across the
room. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“I
will shower now.” she informed him as she sat at her dressing table and began
removing her jewellery “And while I am doing so you can make my bed… “<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
looked at her aghast and desperately trying to find words to express his
indignation but before he could object to her outrageous request she
immediately added in a sharp and assertive tone,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“And
properly, no short cuts William. I want perfect hospital corners and the sheets
properly tucked in.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
was dumbfounded, being asked – no, <b>told-</b>
to make his future mother in law’s bed, it was an abomination and completely
unacceptable. How could she ask him to perform such a menial task?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">As
she sat at looking at him in the mirror of her dressing table she felt a
frisson of excitement run through her body and instinctively knew that what
would happen next would determine their relationship. Would he have the
backbone to refuse? Would he dare question her? She could see the shock and
confusion in his face and decided to strike while she still had the advantage. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Well
don’t just stand there.” she said brusquely and dismissing him with a wave of
her hand “You have work to do.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">By
now his mind was in a state of turmoil he wanted to refuse but knew from her
tone that she would become extremely annoyed as she was not used to being disobeyed.
He was sure Caroline would also hear of it and this would only cause further
discord at the very least. Although this task was utterly demeaning he
considered that overall it would be easier to conform to her wishes. Shame
welled up inside him as he turned to commence this servile and humiliating
chore, he had only taken a few steps when he heard her call to him,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“And
William…”she said smiling at him, pausing for him to reply.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Yes...Mrs…”
he began and as he met her eyes he corrected himself “Yes Mummy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Good
boy, you’re learning.” she said acknowledging his correction “Don’t forget to
plump the pillows and fold my nightgown and peignoir properly.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Yes
Mummy.” he responded, totally dejected by his timid surrender to her authority.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“And
William?” she called to him once more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Yes
Mummy.” he replied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“I
shall be very cross if you do not take good care to perform your tasks
correctly and diligently.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Yes
Mummy.” he repeated the now familiar refrain and returned to his task.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Oh
, William.” she called to him yet again as she followed his every movement in
the mirror, “I almost forgot, when you
have finished making the bed, hang up my
skirt and blouse on the appropriate hangers in my closet and put my shoes away.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Yes
Mummy.” he said meekly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">She
smiled triumphantly as she removed the last piece of jewellery and got up and
went to the bathroom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">This is going much better than I
thought. </span></i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">she
said to herself as she continued to watch him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">As
he set about his task of stripping the king-sized bed his cheeks continued to
burn with shame and as he picked up her long pale pink heavy satin nightgown he
felt completely crushed and cursed himself for not refusing her request point
blank. However despite these recriminations he took great care to carry out her
instructions to the letter. He was folding her nightgown and peignoir with
slightly trembling hands when she emerged from the bathroom in a satin burgundy
coloured robe and matching two inch kitten heeled mules. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">She
immediately moved to the bed and stood over him as she watched him finish
folding her nightgown, she said nothing but smiled as he completed his task. She
made a slight but totally unnecessary adjustment to the perfectly arranged
pillows before lifting the heavy quilt to inspect his work. He became quite
anxious as she took her time to appraise his work and was greatly relieved when
she finally patted the satin quilt and smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Mmm,
quite acceptable.” she said and he smiled in gratitude.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Thank
you Mummy.” he gushed his relief quite obvious.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“It
took me almost a week to train Louise, my previous maid, to do this properly.”
she said patting him gently on the cheek.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
blushed unsure of how to respond.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“And
you have folded my nightgown and peignoir expertly.” she enthused , in a
patronising voice obviously impressed at his skill “Louise <b><i>never</i></b> did that properly.
You should be proud of yourself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">The
inference of this remark was obvious and he recognised it immediately. His
blush deepened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Thank
you Mummy.” he answered shamefully.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">She
left him standing with his head bowed, completely demoralised and almost
disorientated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Come
hereWilliam.” she called from her large walk-in closet and when he joined her
she was looking through various items.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
stood there silently as he removed a black dress from a hanger and gasped
audibly when she held it against him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“It
may be a little tight but we can soon fix that.” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“I…
I…”he mumbled “I don’t understand…what…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Oh
silly me I should have explained .” she said smiling benevolently at him “I
know I project an aura of self-assuredness but I <b>am</b> a woman and having a…” she looked at him with an expression of slight hesitancy
“… a male, even if you are my future
son-in-law assist me dressing makes me
feel a little uncomfortable …,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
nodded enthusiastically and saw his chance to escape.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Yes…
yes…I can leave.” he stammered hopefully and began to back away from her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Please
don’t interrupt when Mummy is speaking William. And stay right where you are
young man.” she said sharply and held the dress up to him once more, trying to
determine his exact size, “I would feel more relaxed if you were to wear
something more appropriate now that you are in a lady’s bedroom”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“But…it’s…<b><i>a
dress! </i></b>“ he blurted. “Surely you don’t expect me to wear <b>that?”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Oh
dear I had hoped you were not going to be difficult.” she said and moved
slightly to the right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">William’s
eyes widened as he saw a display of several canes and paddles hanging on the
door of the closet behind her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">She
remained silent but her eyes were fixed on his as she returned to her original
position and once more examined the dress.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Caroline
<b><i>did
</i></b>say you were to help me.” she said “I’m sure she will be most disappointed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“But…I…
I mean…”he babbled “please Mummy…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">Her
face softened as she took him by the arm, the dress on her other arm, and
walked him back into the bedroom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“I
need you to help me dress.” she said softly as she sat on the bed and patted
the space next to her indicating him to sit “and I would feel so much more
comfortable if you wore it. A woman in a state of undress feels quite
vulnerable in the company of a fully clothed and virile young man such as
yourself. I really <b><i>do</i></b> wish us to be friends William and this would mean <b><i>so </i></b>much
to me. It is a most unequal arrangement, wearing this would make me feel less
threatened. I would hate to have to…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">She
paused and turned her head towards the walk-in closet. She could see the look
of panic in his eyes, she patted his hand and gave him a comforting smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“It
would be such a comfort to me.” she said tenderly. “And would help us bond more
strongly.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“But..I…”he
mounted one final attempt to argue his case but she was already unbuttoning his
shirt and before he knew it she had unbuckled his belt and unzipped his
trousers. Leaving him some dignity she put her peach satin peignoir around his
shoulders and walked to one of the tallboys at the other side of the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Please
remove your underwear.” she said without turning her head as she busied herself
rifling through drawers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">She
returned and laid several items on the bed beside him, as he looked at them he
paled noticeably and she heard a sharp intake of breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Your
corselette, stockings and slip.” she said pointing to the items. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
felt his limbs weaken and was vaguely aware his mouth was agape but could do
nothing about it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Yes”
she continued, noting the look of horror on his face “not exactly the manliest
of underwear perhaps but, believe me, most necessary for wearing under your
dress.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">She
held up the white corselette and fingered the lace cups.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“This
is one of my favourite corselettes and will control your figure.” she informed
him “and don’t worry I just happen to have some breast forms that will fill the
cups.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";"> He felt a strange queasiness in the pit of his
stomach at the very sight of the garment. He tried to speak but his mouth went
dry, it was like a fog had descended on his brain, he could barely comprehend
what was happening.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“As
you can see,” she continued taking his trembling hand and placing on the satin
panels “The material is beautifully soft but also very controlling once worn. It’s
a delightful item of corsetry and will give you such confidence.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">She
handed it to him and he looked at her blankly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Would
you like me to help you get into it?”she asked
in a firm tone with a vague hint of menace.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“N…no…”he
mumbled taking the hideous garment from her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Remove
<b><i>your</i></b>
peignoir, you silly boy” she instructed him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“But
I have…”he began.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“No
clothes on. Yes I know” she snorted derisively as she unbuttoned the satin
peignoir and laughed “Not the first time I’ve seen a shrivelled up male.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">In
a ridiculous attempt to hide from her gaze he contorted himself and quickly
stepped into the corselette and pulled it up around his torso.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“That
won’t do , very unsightly.” she said pointing to his slight but nevertheless
perceptible bulge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">She
placed her hands at the offending protuberance and unhooked the garments gusset
allowing his member to fall free. He gasped as she took hold of it and deftly
pinned it back under his testicles quickly reattaching the gusset’s hooks and
eyes. She stood back to admire her handiwork and ran her hand down between his
legs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Almost
perfect, could almost pass for a girl’s <i>mons
pubis</i>. Just as well you are…”she paused and her face took on a look of
sympathy “…somewhat… petit in that area.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">Satisfied
that his male organ was now no longer visible Caroline’s mother drew the
corselette up his body and he felt his torso compress as she placed his arms
between the shoulder straps and fix them in place. It only took her seconds to
place the soft breast forms in the lace cups. He caught a glimpse of himself in
her dressing table mirror and began to sob. The foundation garment covered his
frame from his upper chest to just above his knees and its restraining effects
were immediately felt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“There,
there.” she comforted him hugging him tightly before sitting him down on the
bed “I know this is difficult for you but it <b><i>does</i></b> need to be done.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">William
was too distraught to respond and barely noticed as she quickly and expertly
rolled black silk stocking up his legs and attached them to the garters
dangling from the corselette.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">She
stood him up and through his sobs he heard the soft rustle of silk slide down
over the corselette, Caroline’s mother hummed merrily to herself as she made
adjustments to the straps and fussed with it until she was satisfied that it
hung correctly on his newly corseted
body. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Now
William we are almost finished.” she said in a light and self-satisfied voice
as if dressing a young man in her foundation garments and lingerie was the most
normal thing in the world. She placed a pair of two inch court shoes in front
of him and gestured him to put them on. He hesitated momentarily but her frown
and the sheer helplessness his new feminine undergarments inflicted on him he
quickly obeyed her and as if in a trance he managed to slip his feet into the
heels.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Don’t
worry you’ll soon get used to wearing heels.” she said airily as she led him in
an awkward gait across the room and positioning him in front of the mirror she
added, almost as an afterthought “All girls do.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
tried to avoid looking at his reflection but she would not even allow this
small concession.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Look
my dear””she gently instructed him, her hand turning his head to directly face
the mirror “I feel so much more relaxed now that you are dressed more
appropriately.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
gasped as he saw the feminised vision before him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“That
is one of my favourite slips.” she cooed “And it fits you almost perectly.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
was almost relieved when she placed the heavy black velvet dress over his head
and without being told he placed his arms into the sleeves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Good
girl.” she commended him as he felt her zipping up the back of the dress “With
a little practice you will soon learn to do this yourself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">She
stood back and viewed the figure in front of her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Mmm,
something’s missing?”she said pensively
“Of course come with me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
was seated at the dressing table and before he realised what she was doing his
face was covered in a light foundation cream.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
tried to protest but she pressed her hand to the sides if his cheeks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Now
pout my dear.” she said, demonstrating herself as he looked at her
blankly. “That’s a good boy, this shade
should really suit your pale complexion.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">When
she was satisfied she brought him back to the full length mirror to allow him
to view her handiwork.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">Once
more he looked away, unable to contemplate what had been done to him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Look.”she
commanded him but he found it too painful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">But
she was insistent and to enforce her authority a sharp slap was delivered to
his right buttock and penetrated his heavy foundation wear. His eyes opened to
reveal a female figure with barely perceptible male facial features that initially
he had difficulty distinguishing as his own.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Yes
quite presentable don’t you think?” she asked as she made a slight adjustment
to the white lace collar at the neck of the dress. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">His
mouth opened slightly in disbelief at the image before him but this only emphasised
the femininity of the face staring back at him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Well?”
she asked once more, her tone expecting the correct reply.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Yes
Mummy.” she answered, the fog in his brain becoming denser by the minute, he
could only repeat her words. “Quite presentable.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Yes.”
she agreed and smiled, a look of pride and achievement etched on her face. “You
<b><i>do</i></b>
make quite a pretty girl.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">His
eyes fell to the floor but could take little comfort from his downward gaze as
all he saw was two feet- his two feet- encased in black nylon and patent
leather court shoes. The humiliation was too much to bear and he could feel the
tears well up inside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Don’t
you <b><i>dare
</i></b>cry. You’re acting like a petulant little girl.” she snapped and he
received another sharp smack on his behind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">His
face registered the shock but it had the desired effect.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";"> “You will ruin your make-up.” Caroline’s
mother admonished “and I shall be most
annoyed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">The
look of irritation on her face and he immediately recalled the row of paddles
and canes in the closet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Yes
Mummy.” he managed to reply without sobbing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“That’s
a good girl.” she said, her face softening into a smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
cringed at her words but thought it best to return her smile. Her reaction was
immediate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“I
knew I could count on you.” she said squeezing his hands, her voice becoming
more relaxed and affectionate and once more she stood back and admired her new
creation <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“You
look wonderful!” she exclaimed caressing his face “Yes, I feel much more
comfortable in your presence.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
managed a weak smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“You’ll
find several corselettes in that tallboy.” she said pointing to one close to
the window as she moved towards the dressing table “I’ll wear a similar one to
the one you are wearing but in black. They really do hold one in tightly don’t
they?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
could only nod his agreement as the unfamiliar garment’s straps bit into his
shoulders and he felt as if his stomach and buttocks were being squeezed by an
invisible force.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">The
uncomfortable expression on his face amused her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Yes
William,“it is tight isn’t it?” she said empathically “But that is the whole
point of foundation garments. Women and girls must suffer these little
discomforts in order to look as alluring as we… and now, <b><i>you</i></b> do. ”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">This
was little consolation to him either physically or mentally as he tottered
ungainly in his new footwear towards the tall boy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“You’ll
find my slips and stockings in the lower drawers.” she called out to him “Bring
a cream slip, the one with the pretty lace hem and a pair of tan stockings.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">As
he searched through the drawers for the required items the shock began to wear
off only to be replaced by a feeling of utter helplessness and deep humiliation
as the magnitude of his grotesque predicament fully dawned on him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">How could I have allowed myself to be
forced into …into… <b>this?</b></span></i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">” he said to himself as he
caught his reflection in the mirror and was so mesmerised by the image he did not notice Caroline’s mother
suddenly appear at his side.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Yes,
my dear you do look rather convincing.” she said slipped her arm around his
shoulder“ And don’t feel embarrassed , we are family, this is just between you
and I. Caroline would be so happy we are getting on so well, I’m sure we will
become the best of friends.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">She
took him by the hand and walked him across the room to the dressing table.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“One
foot in front of the other William” she instructed him in the finer points of
walking in heels, encouraging him with every few steps “That’s my girl.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">Arriving
at the bed she untied her peignoir and allowed it fall to the floor and apart
from her mules she was completely naked. His eyes widened at the sight of her
small but beautifully formed breasts and wide hips, her vulva was hairless.
He’d never imagined a middle-aged woman could have such a youthful figure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Please
don’t tell me you have not seen a naked woman before.” she said noting the look
on his face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
had almost forgotten how he was dressed until his organ began to stiffen
however its enlargement was immediately curtained by its position lodged
securely between his legs, his corselette keeping it resolutely in place. His
immediate reaction was to reach down and touch it to gain some releif but he
instinctively knew that was out of the question, the only thing he could do to
gain any relief was to press his thighs together. The straining garters and the
stocking tops only added to his torment and it was patently obvious this
reflexive masculine response to the naked feminine form was causing him great
discomfort albeit of an exquisite nature. It did not go unnoticed by his future
mother-in-law.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Oh
dear.” she said in a faux concerned voice as she took a step closer “a little
uncomfortable William?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
remained quiet, his unmistakeable torment spoke for itself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Now
you see why I insisted you dress in a more feminine fashion.” she said quietly
as she slipped her hand under his dress and between his legs gently squeezing
his straining organ. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Oooh…please…”
he pleaded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Please
what?”she said gripping him a little
tighter and looking him directly in the eye.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Please
Mummy.” he moaned softly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Now
good girls don’t behave like the horrible male sex.” she whispered her eyes
still fixed on his as she continued to gently rub the confined organ “And you
are a good girl, aren’t you William?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Oh
…yes… Mummy.” he answered, his breathing laboured and his silk encased legs
trembling<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Say
it.” she said firmly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
tried desperately to resist uttering these shameful words but yet another
gentle squeeze sent an exquisite shudder through his body and he found he had
no control over his response.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“I’m…
a good girl Mummy” he moaned unable to stop himself from the humiliating
admission.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">She
withdrew her hand and arranged the skirt of his dress properly before patting
his cheek.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Yes
I know you are.” she said softly and as the full implication of this mortifying
acknowledgement unfolded in his brain his eyes fell to the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
had admitted to being a girl and dressed as he was it would have been even more
humiliating to deny it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">His
engorged member shrivelled instantly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“No
need to be ashamed William.” she consoled him with a smile “You will make a delightful
girl and a wonderful companion when Caroline is away.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“But…”he
tried to begin “but…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“But
what?” she replied “you have already admitted you consider yourself a girl.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">She
looked at him intently before continuing,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“And
you <b><i>do
</i></b>make such a pretty one. Now that you realise those horrible masculine urges
must be kept securely under control you will find it much easier to fulfil your
role. You <b><i>do </i></b>understand don’t you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">His
shame had drained any will to resist.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Yes
Mummy.” he meekly surrendered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Excellent!”
she trilled “Now that I feel completely safe with you we can begin. Fetch my
corselette…”she said in a voice that was at once gentle yet authoritative
before adding”… like a good girl.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">The
words stung him but he was too crushed to react, he picked the heavy corselette
from the bed and knelt down at her feet and held it open for her to step into
and once she had done so he began tugging the garment up her legs. His
masculinity had become so diminished that now even such close proximity to a vagina
did not register the normal way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">This
too did not go unnoticed as she helped him pull the corselette into place over
her breasts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“That’s
a good girl.” she complemented him “your
urges will probably return and if you are well behaved I may allow you some
relief occasionally.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">Occasionally </span></i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">he repeated to
himself. <i><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“But
how much longer will I have to continue to wear these clothes?”he plucked up
the courage to ask. “Surely you don’t…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“My
stockings William.” she said ignoring his question.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“But…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Hush
my dear.” she said and pointed to the stockings “I really need you to
concentrate otherwise you will ladder them.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">She
showed him how to prepare the stocking before he rolled it up her leg and
demonstrated how to attach the garter to the top and once this was done she
pointed to the satin slip. He lifted it over her head and settled it into
place, his hands glancing against her breasts as he did so. To his surprise his
member stirred once more and he immediately avoided eye contact.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“I
do hope your little thing is not getting excited again William.” she said fixing him with her grey eyes. “I shall be
most annoyed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">Her
tone was enough to halt any further arousal. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Oh
no Mummy.” he blurted as his organ shrivelled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“I’m
glad to see you are showing some degree of control. Now be a dear and fetch a
bouffant petticoat from that ottoman.” she said as she stepped into her shoes
and as he returned with the bulky garment she showed him how to help her into
it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“You’re
much better than I had expected William.” she said as she settled it on her
hips and fluffed it out. “Almost as if Louise had never left.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
blushed furiously at the tribute.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Now
my dress.” she said pointing to a black silk creation on the bed “And we are almost
finished. My sister will be here shortly and I don’t think you wish to be
present when she arrives?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“She!” </span></i></b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";"> a voice boomed through the room and he stood
frozen to the spot unable to turn around.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“I
do hope you are not speaking about me Eleanor.” the voice continued.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Clara!”
Caroline’s mother identified the voice with only mild surprise. “You’re early,
I wasn’t expecting you for an hour or so.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“I
wanted to be here sooner as I wished to see Caroline’s fiancée. William isn’t
it” she said making herself comfortable in a large armchair “but unfortunately I ran into some of the girls from the club and
was delayed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">William
could feel his heart race and a bead of sweat form at his hairline, he briefly
thought about running for the door but his legs would not move.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Oh
do hurry Eleanor.”Clara said impatiently “I simply dying to meet this young
man. Where is he by the way? There was no one downstairs when I arrived.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Oh
he is around somewhere.” Caroline’s mother replied with a smile as sat at the
dressing table and calmly applied her eye shadow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“<i>Girl!”
</i></span></b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";"> Clara’s voice bellowed, followed by an eerie
silence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Is
your new maid deaf? Clara” her sister asked as William felt his legs tremble
and had to hold on to the tallboy for support but he knew sooner than later he
would have to turn around and confront his fate. He slowly twisted his body to
face her and felt a knot tighten in his stomach. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“She
has not been in service long Clara.” Eleanor informed her sister truthfully “I’m
still training her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Well,
I’ll have a sherry while you finish your make-up.” Clara said tersely as she
ran her eye over him. “At least she’s prettier than her predecessor and a
better figure. At least she has the sense to wear a good girdle. You always
liked them slim and pretty although her hair is far too tomboyish for my
tastes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">To
William’s amazement her gaze lingered for only a few seconds and without
further comment she returned to flicking through a magazine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Gertrude,
please bring Miss Clara a sherry.” his future mother-in law ordered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
remained where he stood , a look of disorientation of his perfectly made up face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“<b><i>Gertrude!</i></b>”
Clara snorted raising her eyes from the magazine and re-examined the figure
standing at the other side of the room “She doesn’t look like a Gertrude.
Gertrude always calls to mind a strong, muscular almost masculine type of
woman. This Gertrude is a mere slip of a girl.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">She
regarded him once more at him, this time a look of annoyance on her face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Are
you asleep girl? the older woman snapped. “My sherry!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">Gertrude </span></i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">he screamed inside his brain when it
finally dawned on him-<b><i>I’m Gertrude.</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">She
returned to her magazine, William’s panicked eyes met his future mother-in law’s.
Her face exuded clam and she nodded her head slightly to reassure him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“As
I said she is new and doesn’t know which cabinet the drinks are held in.” she
explained getting up and moving across the room “I’ll show her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">William
tottered unsteadily to the drinks cabinet to join her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“She
thinks I’m a girl…your maid.” he blurted quietly, his fear palpable. “Please
let me leave…Mummy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Leaving
is out of the question it would only raise suspicion.” she retorted. “Now
remember you are Gertrude, my maid and don’t forget to address me as Madam. Now
bring the sherry before she begins to have doubts. You have seen servant girls
in these situations before– now act like one.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
quickly realised she was right, maids were rarely noticed by guests- only when
they made mistakes.With great concentration he carried the tray across the room,
his long corselette restricting his stride giving him a reasonable semblance of
a feminine gait albeit a most ungainly one. As he approached the older woman
fear gripped him even tighter than his foundation garment and his hand began to
tremble slightly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">She is sure to recognise me as a man</span></i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">. he blubbered internally
as he got closer to his destination. <i>How
can I ever face her again, she will surely tell Caroline not to mention all her
friends. Perhaps the best thing would be to
just run for the door.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Your
sherry Miss” he said nervously proffering the tray and waiting for her to
expose him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">As
she took the glass he thought her gaze lingered a little longer than necessary.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“My
my, Gertrude, you are a nervous little thing.” she said lightly “ Don’t be
afraid I won’t bite you.” and returned to her magazine without further comment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Yes
Miss, thank you Miss.” he mumbled anxiously as he quickly left her presence
almost stumbling as he did so.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“I
hope you don’t mind Eleanor, I need a favour” Clara said casually as she sipped
her sherry “as my house is being decorated I asked the committee from the
Ladies Club to hold our meeting here. There will only be four or five and we
can hold it in the blue drawing room.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Quite
impossible Clara.” Eleanor replied as applied her lipstick “I have an
appointment later.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Oh
don’t be so inflexible.” Clara said as her sister walked past her on her way to
the closet. “It’s a most important meeting. And I don’t need you to be here
just your maid.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">William
left the tray drop and immediately both their eyes fixed on him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Aah…
sorry…Madam…”he stammered and with difficulty bent down to pick it up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Clumsy
girl.” Clara said but quickly turned back to her sister<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Those
women are such dreadful gossips and besides Gertrude is accompanying me to my
appointment.” Eleanor said standing up
and gesturing to William to follow her “Come here Gertrude, I need to choose a
suitable coat.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">William
minced after his future mother in law to the safety of the closet and out of
earshot from her sister she whispered to William.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“You
make a most convincing girl. Clara has no idea you’re a male.” his future
mother-in-law said softly as she tried to decide on a coat and casually said “Isn’t
this fun?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“She
must know, she could not possibly think I’m a girl.” he blurted in a quiet but
urgent voice. “What am I to do? I have to leave.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Of
course she thinks you’re a girl, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were a
girl.”she retorted “She even thought you were prettier than Louise. Do you want
me to enlighten her?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“No…
but …”he mumbled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“I
wonder how long this little subterfuge could continue?” she said absentmindedly
as she continued to search the closet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Oh…
please…please….”he pleaded. But was interrupted by Clara’s voice from the
bedroom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Eleanor.
Be reasonable I cannot host these ladies without a maid.” her sister’s voice
called out without reply from Eleanor, there was a few seconds pause before
Clara added “I’ll lend you those emeralds you admired for the charity ball
we’re going to next week.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
could see Eleanor’s face change at this offer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“No…oh
no…please…Mummy …please…”he whimpered realising what was happening.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Well
my dear William, I’ll let you decide.” she smiled “ I have already told Clara
that you are accompanying me to my appointment which means you will either have
to become the maid or step out and face the public dressed as a girl.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">He
tried to open his mouth but nothing came out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“One
or the other, it is your choice.” she said looking at his bewildered expression
as she held up a maid’s white apron and cap.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">His
eyes fell to the floor as he reached out and took the apron and cap.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Probably
the best decision Gertrude.” she said as she turned on her heel “Perhaps you
are not ready to go outside…<b><i>yet!”</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“But…I…”he
stammered but she had already returned to the bedroom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">The
shrill sound of Miss Clara’s voice rang out and he could feel the tears well up
inside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";">“Gertrude!” </span></i></b><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Lucida Calligraphy";"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Carrie Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16356755446225712759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-88515828719102760462018-12-20T17:02:00.001-08:002018-12-20T17:02:07.860-08:00No More Empty Threats<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">No More Empty Threats<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">by Rosie<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Actually, there’s one more thing I
bought for you,” Lauren, Sandra’s mother said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Reaching out behind the couch, she
pulled out another bag, marked by the same logo as the bags at Sandra’s feet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Oh, no, please tell me you didn’t,”
Sandra said, horrified, as she opened the bag. With a glum expression, she started
to take out the offending garment – a beautiful, pale blue dress made of silk
and chiffon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Bill really seemed to like it,”
Lauren said, with a mischievous grin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I recognized the dress immediately,
and while my heart did increase its pace in excitement, I could not help but
feel guilty at the same time. Sandra had tried this dress on, at my insistence,
when we were shopping together with her mother some days ago. It had a full
skirt that reached below the knee, and billowing, diaphanous chiffon sleeves
and wide, satin cuffs, that closed with a row of tiny, satin covered buttons.
Even though I knew Sandra wouldn’t like it, as it was much more feminine than
anything else she owned, I begged her to try it on until she finally relent it.
The sight of that frilly, gauzy dress on her powerful figure simply took my
breath away. When she declined my offer to buy it for her, I even dragged her
mother into the discussion, ignoring my girlfriend’s obvious discomfort and
embarrassment. I wouldn’t even let her avoid the embarrassment of wearing it
outside of the changing booth, where her six foot figure, encased in the
shimmering fabric, attracted the attention of everyone in sight. The only
victory she managed in the end was to resist my, and my mother’s offers to buy
the dress. At least it seemed that way until now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Holding the dress halfway still in
the bag, she took an annoyed sigh, and looked first at her mother, then at me.
Then, as if capitulating before us, she let the bag fall on the floor and held
the dress out by the shoulders.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“It’s not even my size,” she
complained to her mother, “I don’t know what you were thinking. Even if I
wanted to, there’s no way I could fit into that. If anything, it’s closer to…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Then her voice trailed off and she
looked at her mother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“You can’t be serious,” she said,
with a dead serious expression.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“As I said,” Lauren replied,
ignoring Sandra’s obvious anger, “Bill really seemed to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">really</i> like it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Sandra looked at me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Well,” she said after a moment of
silence, “Looks like it’s actually for you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">She dropped the dress in my lap,
then pulled a chair from the dining table and sat on it backwards, hugging the
backrest and resting her chin on the back of her palm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“I’m sorry, what’s going on here?” I
mumbled to no one in particular, suddenly afraid to even touch the fine fabric
I had wanted to wrap my girlfriend in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Instead of replying, Sandra just
stared at me until I could no longer pretend not to understand the obvious.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Pleadingly, I looked at Lauren,
hoping that she would say she was only kidding, take the dress from me and it
would all be over. But she didn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Well?” she said finally, “Aren’t
you going to try it on?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“What? Why? No!” I blurted out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Why not?” Lauren asked, “I thought
you liked it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“I liked it on Sandra,” I said,
defensively.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Unfortunately, Sandra didn’t like
it,” Lauren replied, “So if you really like it, you’ll have to wear it
yourself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“I don’t like it <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that</i> much,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“How can you say that, without
trying it on first?” Lauren said. I blushed with embarrassment as I recognized
the exact same words I used to persuade her daughter into trying the dress on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Please, Lauren,” I almost
whispered, “I can’t do that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Why not?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“I’ll be embarrassed,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Sandra was embarrassed, too,” she
said, “But you still wanted her to try it on.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sighed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so
pushy,” I said, “But this is not the same.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“What’s not the same?” Lauren said,
“It’s the same dress.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“It’s not the same for me or
Sandra,” I said, hoping not to sound too stupid for explaining the obvious,
“It’s different for a guy or a girl to wear a dress. I mean, girls wear
dresses, right?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Not all girls do,” Lauren said,
“And some guys wear dresses, too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I shot a glance around the room, and
caught the sight of Sandra, now with a rather satisfied smirk on her face.
Finally, I understood what this was about. I took a deep breath, preparing to
do what I now knew I had to do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Okay,” I said to her, “Look, I
apologize for making you try on this dress at the store. I knew you wouldn’t like
it, and I knew you would be embarrassed, but I still wanted you to do it. That
was wrong, and I shouldn’t have done it, and I apologize.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Apology accepted,” she chirped, and
a wave of relief swept over me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Now go and try your dress on,” she
added.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“But…” I tried to protest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“You can change in my bedroom,”
Lauren said before I could speak, “Will you manage by yourself or do you want
me to help you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I stared at her in shock silence,
and apparently a second too long for her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Right,” she said, standing up,
“Let’s go.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“I’ll change by myself,” I said
hurriedly, and quickly went to her bedroom, closing the door behind be before
she could come in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I could feel my pounding heartbeat
in my ears as I stripped down to my shorts. Then, I unfolded the dress on Lauren’s
bed and tried to figure out the best way to get into it. Finally, I undid the
zipper at the back, stepped into it and pulled it upwards until I could put my
hands through the sleeves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I heard a knock at the door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Are you read?” Lauren asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Almost,” I replied, moving towards
the door to keep her from coming it, but I was too late.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Let me give you a hand,” she said,
as she deftly pulled up my zipper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">A gasp of surprise escaped my mouth
as I suddenly felt the cool silk enwrap my upper body. Lauren took my right
hand and started closing up the buttons on my cuff.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“This buttons can be tricky,” she
said after she started working on the other cuff.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I waited in comfortable silence as
she closed the remaining buttons, knowing those were the last seconds I could
enjoy before being made to step back into the living room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Sure enough, as soon as she was
done, Lauren took my hand and led me out of her bedroom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Sandra was sitting on the sofa I had
sat on, and the TV was already turned on, though the movie we wanted to see
hadn’t started yet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Oh, God,” she gasped after she
finally turned to face me, then turned to her mother “You actually made him do
it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“I didn’t make him do anything, he
was already wearing the dress when I came in,” she said, then turned to me,
“Weren’t you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I nodded, glumly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“And?” Sandra said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Looks perfectly fine, if you ask
me,” Lauren replied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Yeah, it does, actually,” Sandra
said, “Except for the hairy legs, of course.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Nothing that can’t be fixed,”
Lauren dismissed her, “Right, Billy?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I looked at her in alarm, trying to
think of a suitable reply, but she had turned her attention to the television
as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Um, could you help me again,
please?” I said to her, “I’d like to change back now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Already?” she said, sitting down on
her sofa, “Nah, keep it on for a while, see how it feels like after you get
used to it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“But…” I tried to protest, but it
was in vain. With the starting credits rolling, the eyes of both females were
glued to the screen. Shrugging my shoulders, I sat down next to my girlfriend.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Though I was still very embarrassed
at first, after a while I relaxed enough to focus on the action on the TV.
Before I knew it, the movie was over and as we talked about it, I suddenly
realized no one, including myself, made the slightest acknowledgement I had
spent the whole evening in my dress, as if it was the most natural thing in the
world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Would you like another bite to
eat?” Lauren offered as we helped her clear up the remains of the snacks from
the living room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Nah, we best get going,” Sandra
replied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Well, in that case,” Lauren turned
to me, “I suppose I should help you get out of your dress.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Yes, please,” I said, blushing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Although relieved to be back in my
own clothes, I was already starting to miss the soft, airy feel of the dress.
As Sandra was picking up her parcels scattered around the room, Lauren folded
up my dress and put it in a bag.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Don’t forget your dress,” she said,
handing me the bag.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Oh?” I said, “Umm, I thought you
were going to return it at the store.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Why on Earth would I return it?”
she said, “I got the impression that you quite liked it. I mean, you sat there
wearing it without a word of protest.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Sandra?” I said desperately,
turning to my girlfriend.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“It’s your dress,” she shrugged, “It
makes no sense to leave it here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“In fact,” Lauren said, taking it
out of the bag again, “Since we know it fits, we don’t need these anymore, do
we?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Pulling out scissors from a drawer,
she cut off the tags, then gave me back the dress that she had irrevocably
confirmed into my ownership.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“You know,” Sandra said as we were
walking to my car, “You looked kinda cute in your dress.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“I thought you didn’t like the hairy
legs,” I muttered, afraid someone would hear us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Just wait until you try it on
properly,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Properly?” I moaned, “Oh come on,
Sandra, not you too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“What?” she said, “Don’t try to act
like you didn’t like it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">We walked in silence for a few
moments, until she reached around my shoulders and pulled me closer to her
until my head was on her shoulder, drawing an amused glance from a couple of
girls passing by.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“See?” she said, “You’d look a lot
less out of place right now if you were wearing your dress.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">The eruption of giggles from the
girls that had passed us was a clear sign they heard her, and that she didn’t
mind to be heard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">With the dinner safely kept warm in
the oven, I kept myself busy setting up the table. It was going to be the
second time Lauren would see me wear the dress she had bought for me. Although
only a month had passed since the first time, it seemed as distant as another
life to me. While the pale blue chiffon dress was the only dress I had owned at
that time, my closet was now brimming over with dresses, skirts and tops, some
donated by Sandra’s girlfriends, some bought brand new. I wasn’t wearing the
dress over hairy legs and men’s underwear this time. My body was now completely
hairless below the neck. My privates were kept in the smooth, slippery confines
of my satin panties, and kept safely hidden from view by my tight, white satin teddies.
My legs were encased in white floral patterned pantyhose and my feet shod in
patent white pumps with three inch stiletto heels that I had long since learned
to walk in. My clever pushup bra moulded the flesh of my chest into small, but
undeniably real bust.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">My hair was now curled and adorned
with a white satin band that sported a rather large white silk rose. I was
wearing full makeup and my nails were colored in a shade of pink to match my
lipstick.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">After I was finished with the table,
I went to the bedroom. Although it wasn’t needed, I decided to touch up my
mascara. At least it would give me something to do. In the mirror, I noticed
Sandra approaching from behind. She too was wearing a dress, a simple black
sheath, and thick black tights. She had even put on her heels and though they
weren’t as high as mine, they still made her tower over me. She put her hands
on my shoulders.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“I got teased a lot in school,
because of my height,” she said, absent minded, “Kids called me a lesbian. I
got into a lot of fight because of that. If they could only see us now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I put away my mascara and leaned
back into her, feeling her massive breast push against my back. I reached my
hands back towards her, sliding them slowly down towards her hips, but she
pushed them away just as our doorbell rang.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">I stood frozen for a second.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“Well?” she said, “Aren’t you going
to let our guest in?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">Hurriedly, I made my way to the
front door. As I opened, Lauren burst in, making me take a step back into our
living room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">“I brought someone along,” she said,
“I hope you don’t mind.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">It was not like Lauren was the only
person who had seen me in women’s clothes, though I would still have liked more
time to prepare for that. On the other hand, nothing could have prepared me for
the shock of seeing my own mother as I opened the door. Suddenly, all my
strength seemed to vanish from me, and I had to hold on the door just to keep
me from collapsing on the floor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-GB;">A moment of pure dread and horror
passed as I stared at my mother, dressed in a green, knee length pencil skirt
and a matching jacket, thrown over her shoulders to reveal her floral print
silk blouse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Now I see why Lauren wanted me to dress up,”
she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">All the movement I could manage was a slight
step sideways, to let her in. She gave me a peck on the cheek as she brushed
past by me, joining Lauren and Sandra.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Slowly, I closed the door behind her, and went
to the kitchen, where I was expected to serve dinner. Although I serving dinner
to my mother dressed as I was felt like the last thing I wanted to be doing, I
found to actually welcome the chore. Still numb from the shock, I was only too
glad to be able to switch to autopilot as I mechanically set another place at
the table, then took the dinner out of the oven and served the food.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">When I made sure I had taken care of all of the
details, I silently joined the ladies at the table. I remained silent while
Lauren explained all about how I came to own, and wear, my dress. While partly
amused at times, my mother did not seem impressed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I don’t mean to argue with the logic of the
punishment,” she says, “Because it does fit the crime.”<br />
“Thank you, Claire,” Lauren said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“But this dress looks far too expensive just to
make a point, doesn’t it?” my mother continued, “You know, I had the same doubts
myself,” Lauren said, “But there was something in the way Bill was looking at
the dress that made me wonder why he insisted so much on Sandra wearing it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Taking over from her mother, Sandra recounted
how, after eagerly sharing the story with her girlfriends, they one by one
agreed that it was indeed a fitting punishment, and made sure it was doled out
over and over again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Before her story was finished, we had finished
dinner. I started to clear up the table while Sandra, Lauren and my mother
moved to the living room. I put on a pot of coffee, and when the table was
cleared up, I laid some cookies on a tray, together with cups and saucers,
poured the coffee into the matching pot and followed the women.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I put down the tray on the coffee table, then
started to pour the coffee.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Milk? Sugar?” I asked my mother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Just a bit of milk, please, no sugar,” my
mother said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I handed her the cup.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Thank you, Stephanie,” she said, looking me
straight in the eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Blushing furiously, I averted my eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Should we move a little?” She said to me, “To
make room for you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">In our modestly furnished living room, the
three women had taken all of the seats, with my mother and Lauren sitting
together on the sofa, and Sandra on the matching armchair. I could have brought
another chair from the kitchen, but as my mother had evidently learned my girl
name, I saw little use in concealing other aspects of our new reality.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“No, thank you,” I said, blushing again, “I’ll
sit with Sandra.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“But there’s even less space…” my mother
pointed out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Just let me finish pouring first,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I poured the last cup, added milk and sugar
according to Sandra’s preference, and then, as unceremoniously as I could,
placed myself in Sandra’s lap.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Sandra kissed me full on the lips, then deftly
picked up her cup of coffee, demonstrating that she was clearly used to
handling me in that position. As she sipped the hot liquid, I rested my head on
her shoulders, avoiding the eyes of my mother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I hope we’re not making you uncomfortable,”
Sandra smiled to our mothers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Not at all,” Lauren replied, “If anything,
you’re only making me envious at Stephanie. I can’t remember the last time I’ve
been cuddled like that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She looked at my mother, to which she replied
with a thin lipped smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Although,” Lauren said after a pause, “I’m
more used to the idea of the girl sitting in the boy’s lap, not the other way
around.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Sandra giggled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Now that you mention it,” she said, “It feels
like I get less funny looks when I’m with Stephanie than I used to with Bill.
Almost as if a lesbian couple attracts less attention than a small guy with a
big girl.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I burried my face in Sandra’s neck to hide my
shame. For a while, all that could be heard is soft clinking of china.
Eventually, Sandra gently nudged my head up with her shoulder and I had to face
the room again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Bill, you seem to be quite comfortable as
Stephanie,” my mother said as I finally looked at her again, “Do you plan to
keep on dressing as a woman?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I drew a deep breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Actually?” I began cautiously, “No, not
really. This is the last part of my punishment, wearing the dress properly for
Lauren.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Well, don’t forget that Anna hasn’t seen you
wear your dress properly, yet,” Sandra said, “She’ll be quite cross if she
doesn’t get to see you. She might really put you over her knees, like she
promised.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">A surprised giggle escaped Lauren’s lips and
even my mother couldn’t hide her amusement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You would probably want to avoid that,” she
chuckled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I felt tears of shame well up behind my eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You promised Ashley you’d give her a hand with
sorting out her closet tomorrow, then we’re seeing Janice on Tuesday, and we
have tickets for the theater on Saturday,” she went on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“As Stephanie?” Lauren asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Yeah,” Sandra replied, “Pretty much each time
go out with my friends, he does it as Stephanie.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Ooh,” Lauren said, arching her eyebrows in
amazement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I could see that my mother didn’t share her
excitement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Do you plan to start going to work as
Stephanie, too?” she asked, with a serious voice, “Are you going to start
living as a woman all the time? Legally change your name to Stephanie?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">It was as if a lightning bolt had struck across
the room. Lauren’s eyes were wide, almost gleaming with excitement as she
exchanged silent, yet not hidden, messages with her daughter. As Sandra slowly
turned her gaze towards me, an eerie notion crept over me that unless I put my
foot down, my mother’s words just might become reality.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“No!” I said forcefully, “I am not going to do
either of those things, mom.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“It seems to me that you are going to be dressing
up as Stephanie, after all,” she said, calmly, “Maybe you should think about
how you’re going to break the news to your father,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">All of the sudden the fun aspect of my dressing
was gone, replaced by pure dread, and it felt as if I had just realized I had
been all the time sitting on my girlfriends lap, wearing a frilly dress. I just
had to get away, but when I tried to get up from her lap, but Sandra held me
down without any difficulty whatsoever, though not without making my struggle,
and its futility, painfully apparent. Finally, I had to give in and acknowledge
that I would remain in her lap for as long as she wanted me to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Oh god,” I groaned, “Please leave dad out of
this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I’m not going to lie to my husband,” my mother
replied sternly, “Though I imagine this must be difficult for you, so I’ll let
you think about it for a little bit longer.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You think your husband wouldn’t approve?”
Lauren asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“It’s not about approval,” my mother replied,
“It’s just that he deserves to know why our son hasn’t contacted us lately, and
what to expect if he does want to see him more often in the future. And anyway,
aren’t the parents entitled to learn about such changes in the lives of their
children? For crying out loud, even I wouldn’t have any clue about this if you
hadn’t brought me along today.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I drew a deep breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I won’t be telling dad anything,” I said
slowly, “Because there isn’t anything to tell. There aren’t any changes in my
life, and there won’t be any.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">My speech was met by unconvinced looks from my
mother and Lauren.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“This needs to stop,” I said, “Look, Lauren,
you wanted to see me wear my dress properly, now you have. Okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I could feel my voice was about to break so I
paused to take another breath. Curious eyes peered at me from all sides.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I don’t want to do this anymore,” I said, “I
don’t want to become a woman.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“But your mother does have a point, dear,”
Sandra said, “Just think of all the cool things you can do when you don’t have
to keep changing between boy and girl all the time.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Please? Sandra?” I said weakly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You can have your ears pierced,” she said,
ignoring my protests, “You can finally get a nice haircut. Even have your hair
dyed. You can let your own nails grow long and you won’t need to clean the
varnish off them each time. You can get a proper facial, do something about
your eyebrows.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She paused for a second, as if giving me, and
the rest of the room, time to absorb her words.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You could even have some other work done on
your face,” she said, meaningfully.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Or,” Lauren said, licking her lips, “Get
bigger breasts.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I shuddered at her suggestion. Hopelessly, I
looked back at Sandra.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Please, honey,” I said, pleadingly, “I can’t
go to work as a woman. I just can’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Then quit,” she said, matter-of-factly, “Just
like we’ve talked about, take some time off to find a better job.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“But I like my job,” I protested.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Well, I don’t,” she said, “And I know you
don’t, either. You’re just hanging on to it because it’s the one place where
you know you will always dress as a man.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“That’s not true,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Then prove it,” Sandra said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“How?” I moaned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Quit,” she repeated, “Or start going to work
as Stephanie.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Even though I found it hard to match her eyes,
I kept looking at her because this way, at least, I could avoid meeting my mother’s
gaze.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“If I do quit,” I began cautiously, “That won’t
mean that I will live as a woman full time?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“That’s up to you,” Sandra smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I closed my eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Maybe it is time for a career change,” I said
finally.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Sandra leaned in to me and kissed me gently.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I was going to tell you later,” Lauren said,
“But a friend of mine is looking for people to work in the business she’s
starting up. She’s got some positions open, if you’re interested.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“What kind of positions?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“All sorts, I guess,” she said, “I think it’s
best if you talk to her, and then decide where it is you would fit best. Should
I call her?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Yes, please,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Should I set up an interview for Bill?” she
asked, pausing for a second, “Or for Stephanie?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I looked at her in horror.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“For Bill, of course,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Are you sure?” she mused.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Tentatively, I pushed against Sandra. When I
was sure that this time, she wasn’t going to hold me down, I slid off her lap.
Instinctively, I rearranged the skirts of my dress, realizing what I had been
doing only after I had already finished. Still, it did not diminish my resolve.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Look,” I said slowly, “I apologize if I gave
the wrong impression, but I do not want to become a woman. I am sorry if I
misled anyone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">A strange silence fell upon the room. All three
women were eying me attentively, as if waiting to see what I would do next.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“In fact, I am going to take my dress of and
change back in to my men’s clothes,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Before you do,” Lauren said, “I’ve bought you
another dress that I would like you to try on.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I looked at her for a second.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“No, I don’t think so,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“In
fact, the sooner you can try it on, the better,” she said, obviously ignoring
me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I looked at Sandra. She simply nodded in
agreement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“But you said I wouldn’t have to…” I weakly
said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I know,” she said, “But my mother has gone to
the trouble of buying you a dress, I think the least you can do is to try it
on.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I was about to give in, but as I noticed my
mother looking at me, I suddenly realized how high the stakes were.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“No,” I said, looking at my mother, “I’m sorry,
but I’m done with wearing dresses.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Lauren said sternly,
“But in the next couple of days, you are meeting a certain young lady who has
threatened you with a spanking if you don’t wear a dress for her. Are you going
to be as determined not to wear a dress when you talk to her, as you are now
with me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Shamefaced, I averted my eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I don’t want to threaten you, Stephanie, much
less spank you,” she said, “So here’s what I’ll do. I’ll make you a deal. I
have in fact bought two outfits for you, but if we can get by without the
threat of spanking, I will let you chose just one to try on for today. Does
this sound fair to you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I suppose so,” I whispered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Marvelous,” Lauren said, “So which one would
you rather put on? I won’t describe them in detail, but one of them is mostly
black, the other one is mostly a bright shade of pink.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“The black one,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Why the black one?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I guess I would be less embarrassed than in
the pink one,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Embarrassed?” she said, “You do realize that
you stand before us wearing a very pretty dress, lingerie, high heeled shoes
and makeup? And that we’ve just witnessed your girlfriend pull you down on her
lap and cuddle with you? Do you really think wearing pink clothes would make a
difference at this point?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I suppose not,” I said softly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“So why did you say you would be embarrassed,
then?” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I... I…” stuttered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You must have been thinking of wearing the
outfits outside, haven’t you?” she said, “Perhaps to a job interview?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I stood silent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Well, look,” she said impatiently, “If you
can’t make up your mind, I guess the obvious solution is to try both on.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Wearing a pink dress would seem more
embarrassing than wearing a black one outside,” I said, defeated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Lauren
said, “Now imagine you’re at a job interview. Why do you think you be less
embarrassed in the black outfit?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Please, Lauren?” I pleaded, “I don’t want to
do the interview as a girl.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Oh, relax,” she said, “We’re just talking.
Tell me why you think you’d do better at the interview in a black dress than in
a pink one.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I guess a black dress would be more…” I pause
for words, “Elegant? It wouldn’t stand out so much as the pink one?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Wouldn’t you want to stand out in a job
interview?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Maybe not with my clothes,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“As you wish,” she said, “Go on, try on the
black one, then.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Defeated, I left the living room. Sure enough,
there were two outfits laid out on our bed. The pink one was a skirt suit, with
a white blouse. Thinking that the pink one wouldn’t have been so bad, I started
removing my dress, when my eyes caught the sight of the black outfit. The very
next moment, I buried my head in my hands as I made out the heap of glistening
black satin for a maid’s uniform.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I thought you had chosen the black outfit,”
Lauren said when I came back to the living room dressed in the pink skirt suit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I changed my mind,” I said, “I hope that’s
OK.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“It depends,” she replied, “Does that mean it
you would not be embarrassed to take the interview dressed as you are?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Yes. I mean no,” I said, “I mean I would be
even more embarrassed in the black one.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Let’s forget about the black one for a
second,” she said, “When we talked about which outfit you’d chose, you said
that you would feel embarrassed to take the job interview in the pink outfit.
Yet, here you are, wearing your new pink skirt suit.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Well, I’m not embarrassed <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">now</i>,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Of course you’re not,” she said, “We have
already established that you wouldn’t be embarrassed before us. It is the job
interview we are talking about.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Actually, I’m really not sure about that,” I
began.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You don’t seem unsure to me,” she said, “You
went to the bedroom to pick out an outfit for your job interview, and even
though you found the color pink more embarrassing than black, you still chose
to wear the pink one. If anything, this tells me that you are very sure you
want to wear it to the job interview.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I felt my strength crumbling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Well,” she said with a sly smile, taking her
phone out of her purse, “Now that we’ve decided which outfit you’ll wear, I can
finally schedule the interview. In the meantime, why don’t you slip into the
black on to show us what was it about it that made you change your mind.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“But you promised you would let me try on just
one,” I protested.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“And you promised that you would wear the black
one,” she said, “But don’t worry, I will still let you wear your pink suit to
the interview.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“But you said…” I tried again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Let me ask you this way,” she said, “Would you
rather wear the black outfit now, or at the job interview?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Now,” I said, defeated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Make sure you put on the lingerie that it
comes with,” Lauren said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I came back to the living room wearing my satin
French maid’s uniform, with a white lacy apron, a white, full petticoat that
made the knee length skirt flare out. Underneath, I was wearing a black set of
lingerie, with black nylon stocking attached to my corselet, and black, four
inch heeled shoes. Beside the outfit, Lauren had provided me with a very
detailed note on how she expected me to behave.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Now I see why you wanted to wear the pink suit
for the interview,” Sandra chuckled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“This is perfectly fine for a job interview, if
you ask me,” Lauren said, “Though it’s true that it’s less universal that the
pink suit. Don’t you agree, Stephanie?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Although I was fighting tears of shame, I
remembered what the note said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Yes, ma’am,” I said, then plucking the hem of
my dress with the fingers of both hands, dropped a deep curtsey, causing
another bout of giggling from Sandra.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I don’t think I need to stay any longer,” my
mother said, getting up, “Why don’t you visit us sometime next week?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Not knowing how to respond, I simply curtsied
again. She rolled her eyes, then got off the sofa.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Try to wear something else,” she said, kindly
now, as she walked past by me, “Maybe that pink suit.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Glumly, I watched her walk across the room.
Only when I saw the door close behind her did I face Lauren again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You can visit me already tomorrow,” Lauren
said, and added, “Now that you’re unemployed.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Unemployed?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I took the liberty of handing in your notice,”
Sandra said, showing me my phone in her hand, “Don’t worry. You were very
polite about it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Dumbfounded, I could only drop another curtsey.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I also made you an appointment with my
hairdresser and beautician,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Another curtsey.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Your interview is scheduled for next Tuesday,”
Lauren informed me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Thank you, ma’am,” I said, and curtseyed
again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Of course,” Lauren said, “When you come over
tomorrow, you will wear your uniform, won’t you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Yes, ma’am,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I’m sure you will welcome this… temporary
employ… at my house as it will give you some purpose, keep you from wasting
your days aimlessly,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Yes, ma’am,” I curtsied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Why don’t you come closer?” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Mechanically, I obeyed. She took my hands in
hers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“No sense in pretending you don’t like spending
time in women’s laps,” she said as she pulled me towards her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Under Sandra’s gaze, I assumed the proper
position and leaned my head on her mother’s shoulder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Today has been a day of broken promises,
wouldn’t you say?” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” I said,
then quickly added, “Ma’am.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“It’s rather simple, really,” she said, “You
said you weren’t going to wear any more dresses, yet here you are, sitting in
my lap dressed in your pretty maids uniform. You asked me to set you up an
interview as a man, but I set one up for a girl. You said you would chose the
black dress, but you put on the pink suit. I promised you would only have to try
on one outfit, but in the end, I made you wear both. There’s only one promise
still unbroken.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Which one, ma’am?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Do you remember how I made you to put on the
suit?” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You said you didn’t want to spank me, ma’am,”
I whimpered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Exactly,” she said, “And now, I am going to break
that promise, too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Guiding me with her hand, she helped me
reposition myself on her lap, until I was lying face down across her knees. I helped
her raise the multiple layers of my skirts to my waist. I felt her rest her
warm hand on the slippery satin of my panties. I felt my heart skip a beat.
After so many empty threats, I was finally to get my first spanking. As her
finally rose from my backside, I thought about all of the other empty threats
and vague promises that I had though would never come true, yet, in less than
an hour, it became patently obvious that they were after all going to be
fulfilled, each one of them. The spanking was just the beginning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6.0pt;">
<br /></div>
<br />Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08251557995803362070noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-27615615559102539902018-11-15T15:24:00.002-08:002018-11-15T15:24:26.653-08:00Short storyDear girls, here's a short story I've written recently. The end has a bit of a glued-on feeling. I have some ideas where the story could go, but I also don't have the time to write it. Thus, I tried to make it look like a finished one. Also, I have moved some of the parts back and forth along the storyline, I hope that doesn't show too badly<br />
<br />
So, what's everybody up to? Bought any cute dresses recently? Worn them somewhere? Drop a line in the comments, tell us all about it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">With a feeling of destiny, I slowly walked towards the living room. To
say I was embarrassed would be an understatement, but at the same time, wearing
my girlfriend’s yellow dress, my feet squeezed into her only pair of high
heeled shoes, somehow I couldn’t wait to show myself to my mother. For a
second, it seemed that neither one would look up from the laptop screen as I
made my entrance, despite loud clacking of my high heels. Eventually though,
first Sarah, then my mother turned toward me. Before I could reach the table,
she got up from her seat and met me halfway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Perhaps her face showed mild amusement, but there was no sign neither of
shock nor surprise, as if seeing her son in a dress was the most natural thing
of all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“This is what happens when you let women boss you around,” she said,
very matter-of-factly, without a trace of scorn in her voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I found it fitting that she used the plural form, because even though it
was Sarah who was doing the bossing around, I still felt my mother to be
instrumental in the events leading up to this moment. On the other hand, I
could have said the same about myself. Although politely friendly towards each
other at first, they really hit it off when Sarah and I started planning our
first joint real estate investment, and they both found each other a more
relevant conversation partner than me. Accustomed to being the most important person
both to my mother and my girlfriend, I would feel neglected when they became
far more engaged in the conversation than me. In my boredom, I would try to
attract Sarah’s attention with increasingly obnoxious behavior. For a while,
she made an effort to accommodate my ego, but she quickly got fed up and turned
to chastising me instead. The lack of any rebuttal on my part showed my mother
who was the boss in our relationship. The lack of any protest, or at least
discontent on my mother’s part, showed Sarah she had a willing audience. My
meekness in these exchanges reinforced Sarah’s dominance over me, and as her
dominance grew, so did my humiliations, until she openly threatened to make me
wear one of her dresses. My mother stifled a chuckle, raising her eyebrows at
me in amusement, while I pretended not to have heard anything, thinking it to
be another one of the multiple, meaningless humiliations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Our reactions were not lost on Sarah, though. As soon as my mother had
left our house, she confronted me with the obvious.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You’d really wear a dress with your mother in the house?” she asked me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She sounded incredulous and unsure, though in the next fraction of a
second, my hesitation in replying gave her all the answer she needed, and she
became more and more demanding. Despite her persistence, I managed to avoid
engaging in a conversation about whether or not I would wear a dress next time
my mother came to visit, or which dress I would wear. However, that was a
Pyrrhic victory, because the price I had to pay for not wanting to talk about
wearing a dress was actually wearing one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">That evening in our bedroom, when she told me to take one of her dresses
out of the closet and put it on, I found myself powerless not to do as I was
told. Too ashamed to face her, I kept my eyes on the closet even as I fumbled
with the zipper of the dress, but eventually, I had to leave this safe haven.
Cringing with humiliation, I turned towards her, wearing a blue and white
patterned dress.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I found her sitting on the bed, leaning on her elbows, biting on her
lower lip, looking at me without saying a word. Honestly speaking, she scared
me, but at the same time, I felt myself strangely excited.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“What?” I finally asked her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Nothing,” she said, hoarsely.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Come here,” she commanded the next moment, and I did as I was told.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Unceremoniously, her hand reached up my skirt, making me gasp with
fright, and took hold of my half swollen penis.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“What’s that?” she said, “You like this, huh? Looks like we learned
something new about you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Without waiting for my answer, she pulled me towards her, kissed me,
then pushed me on my back, hiked up the skirt of my dress, pulled down my
shorts and rode me to a bone shattering orgasm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">As I got off the bed afterwards, I tried to show the best I could I was
doing everything short of ripping it get the dress off of me. However, tried as
I might to divest myself of the offending garment, I could not rid myself of
the notion that my fate was sealed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">When my mother paid us her next visit, I was trying to be on my best
behavior since the moment she entered the door, at all costs avoiding giving
Sarah a reason to be displeased with me, but the tension was taking its toll on
my nerves. For a split second, when Sarah opened her laptop at the table, my
exasperation got the best of me. Even to me, my sigh was barely audible, but it
was enough to make her turn sharply to me. I twitched on my chair with fear,
bracing myself for the inevitable, yet still hoping to placate her somehow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I’m sorry,” she said, “Am I boring you with this, Corey?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“No,” I drew back, nervously, “Shouldn’t we clean up the table first,
though?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Fine,” she hissed, “You know
where the aprons are.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Blushing furiously, I turned to leave the table, but then I caught my
mother’s mischievous glance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Aprons?” she mused, “Looks like you’re getting off easy. I thought
you’d be wearing a dress.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I froze in my tracks, allowing a moment of silence after which none of
us could pretend not to have heard my mother’s words. Slowly, I turned to Sarah
to see her reaction. She raised her eyebrows at me, half amused, half
challenging. Dropping my gaze, I admitted my defeat and wordlessly left for our
bedroom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Sarah only had a handful of dresses, and I knew in advance which one I
wanted. Just like Sarah’s other dresses, from the waist down it flared out into
a pleated, knee length skirt. What made it different from the rest was the
sleeveless top with a neckline that came all the way up to the collar, which
would best cover up the fact Sarah made me remove all of my hair below the neck,
deaf to my complaints I wouldn’t be able to wear shorts with the summer just
starting. Despite the yellow color and the rhinestone studded collar, from the
waist up it had looked more like a sports top than an actual dress on Sarah.
However, as I zipped it up at the back I realized that the bodice was tighter
than I had hoped. I could feel the fabric squeeze my belly and, looking in the
mirror, I realized that under the bright light, the sheen of the fabric made
the yellow color brighter than I had remembered it to be, and that the lacy bra
I was wearing underneath made the unmistakable illusion of a bust. Although the
pleats of the skirt were softer than in the other dresses, they efficiently
obscured any possible hint of my penis, safely tucked inside a pair of panties
to match my bra. With my feel squeezed into Sarah’s black pumps with a three
inch stiletto heel, I was suddenly aware that apart from my face, there was
little else masculine about my look. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">With my hand already on the doorknob, I toyed for a second with the idea
of at least putting on a different, more revealing dress to shatter the
unexpectedly successful feminine illusion. But then, taking a deep breath, as
much as the tight dress would allow me, I took one last look in the mirror,
forced my lips in a tight smile and made my way back to the living room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“This is the dress you wore the last time we met in town, isn’t it?” my
mother said to Sarah.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Despite making it all seem so casual, I could tell that they had been
talking about me wearing Sarah’s clothes while I was changing, and by Sarah’s
suddenly sheepish expression, I could tell that my mother learned the true
reason for it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Without waiting for Sarah’s answer, she turned to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I have to say though,” she said to me, “It almost works better on you.
You don’t have those broad, swimmer’s shoulders Sarah has, yours don’t stick
out so much.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Way to insult the both of us, mom,” I said, in half whisper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I beg your pardon,” my mother replied mock-defensively, “I haven’t
insulted anyone. I have complimented your girlfriend on her muscular physique,
and I have complimented you for looking good in the clothes you’re wearing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She paused for a second.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Except for these unsightly rolls,” she said in normal voice again,
poking at my stomach, “You should lose some weight if you’re going to be
dressing in your girlfriend’s clothes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Before I could ponder at the implication of her words, she turned to
Sarah again, whom the remark about my weight had put in a noticeably better
mood.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“He should get his own shoes, though,” my mother said, “Otherwise he’ll
stretch yours out.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“That’s okay,” Sarah said, “I don’t even wear them anymore.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You still might, someday,” my mother replied, “In any case, he should
have shoes that fit properly.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Then, she took me by the hand and led me around the bookshelves that
separated the dining area from the rest of the living room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“We’ll be right back,” she said to Sarah, then led me to the couch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Sit right here, honey, I’ll just grab my purse,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Gingerly, I sat down, happy that I had some privacy as I girlishly
smoothed the skirts of my dress under my thighs as I did so. In another second,
my mother came back to the couch and sat down facing me. Before I knew it, she
pulled out her compact from her purse and started dabbing my face with a broad
brush. I tried to pull away, but she stopped me with a stern look and a firm
grip on my hand, and I resigned to my fate as she proceeded to apply more
makeup.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I have a bunch of my old clothes packed up,” she called out to Sarah,
as she was applying mascara to my eyelashes, “I was going to give them away,
but I think they would suit him just fine.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She painted my lips bright crimson with her lipstick. Obediently, I
pressed them together like she showed me to, then she put everything back in
her purse. Lastly, she took out a few hairpins and put them in my hair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“All done,” she announced, got up and helped me get up, too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Much better, don’t you agree?” she said to Sarah as we made it back to
the table.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Sarah simply smiled in response. I fidgeted nervously, standing before
them, as my mother took her seat at the table again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Well?” my mother said, “I thought you said you wanted to clear up the
table?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Hastily, I nodded, happy for an excuse to get away from view.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Though now you really need to wear an apron,” she added.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I gave myself as much work in the kitchen as I could find, though
eventually even that was over and I had no excuse not to rejoin the table.
Handing up my apron by the doorway, I walked back to the table just as Sarah
was getting up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Bathroom,” she replied to my questioning glance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I waited until I could hear the bathroom door close, then leaned closer
to my mother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Could you please not push this any further than it needs to go?” I
said, in a hushed, urging voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Whatever do you mean?” my mother mused.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“The makeup. Your old clothes,” I said, “I don’t know what Sarah told
you, but I don’t actually enjoy all this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You don’t hate it, either,” my mother replied, matter-of-factly, “Do
you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Well, … I mean…” I stuttered, but she didn’t really listen to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“At any rate, you don’t hate it enough to stand up to your girlfriend,”
she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Well, you don’t need to help her,” I said, with a hurt voice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She paused for a second.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I’m trying to help you,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“How?” I moaned reproachfully, “By making me wear makeup?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I get the feeling that this
isn’t the last time Sarah will want you in dresses,” she said, “The next time
you do it, do you want to look like a woman, or like a man in a dress?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I dropped my gaze in silent acceptance of her logic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Listen,” she said, “No one knows better than yourself how you feel about
dressing like this. If you really don’t like it, then talk it through with
Sarah. Until you do though, you better learn to speak with a softer voice. It
might save you some embarrassing situations in the future.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I sat silently, pretending to look at the laptop screen, while waiting
for Sarah to come back. When I heard her exit the bathroom, I immediately
turned my head towards the staircase.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She took her seat, and, ignoring my obvious act of getting up, pulled
her laptop towards her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Where were we?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Actually, Sarah,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Yeah?” she said, a little impatiently.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I would like to change now,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Into a different dress?” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“No,” I said, awkwardly, “Into my own clothes. Wash my face.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Absolutely not,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I felt my mother’s curious, challenging gaze on me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“This is how you show your gratitude to your mother, after all the
trouble she went with your makeup?” Sarah continued, “Don’t you find it a
little insulting to wash it off right away?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Panicking, I looked at my mother for support, but her expression didn’t
change. If I argued that I had been wearing my makeup for almost half an hour
now, Sarah might not agree. I wasn’t wearing a watch, anyhow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“But I’m cold,” I said, finally.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">My mother’s expression morphed to a friendly smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“If it’s just that, I can help you out,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She opened her handbag, rummaged a little, then handed me a fresh, still
unwrapped pair of pantyhose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I looked at her incredulously.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Not the best fitting shade, but they’ll do,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“See?” Sarah said, “Now you won’t be cold anymore. Go put them on at the
couch.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I came back to the table, my legs now shimmering in a smoky grey tone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Feeling better?” Sarah asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“My arms are still cold,” I said, desperately.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Without a word, my mother reached for her black blazer that she had hung
on the backrest of her chair and handed it to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Here,” she said, “I want to see how my clothes fit you, anyway.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The smooth lining felt cool on my skin as I slid my arms through the
snug sleeves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Fits perfectly,” my mother said, buttoning up the blazer, “I don’t
think you’ll have a problem with the rest of my clothes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Fine,” Sarah said, feigning disinterest, “If we’re done wasting time,
could we now get back to work?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I sat down at the table and looked at the laptop screen. Aimlessly, I
looked at the clock at the bottom of the screen, when it hit me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“It’s been half an hour,” I said defiantly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I beg your pardon?” Sarah said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“It’s been actually thirty five minutes that I have been wearing
makeup,” I said, suddenly confident that I would be able to argue my case for
washing it off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Time to freshen up your lipstick, then,” Sarah said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Defeated, I looked at my mother, who was already reaching for her
handbag again. I took her compact and lipstick from her, then did as Sarah had
suggested.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Silently, I tried to follow the discussion at the table, but was too
absent minded for that. However, it wasn’t until almost an quarter hour later
that Sarah realized I wasn’t paying attention. Exasperated, she got up and came
back moments later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Here, use this if you’re getting bored,” she said, handing me a bottle
of purple nail varnish. I put it down on the table and, this time for real,
tried to catch up with the conversation. After a couple of minutes, I had to
admit I wasn’t going to, and started painting my nails.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Sarah and my mother kept it up for another quarter an hour, until she
finally got up to leave. Sarah said goodbye right in the living room, making it
clear I was supposed to walked my mother to the front door. I was of course
hoping to be able not to leave the house, but my mother insisted I walk her to
her car.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I’ll need my blazer back to get home,” my mother said, “But you can
keep the pantyhose.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">When I got back to the house, Sarah was sitting on the living room sofa.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Why you little sissy,” she said to me, “You little pansy boy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I looked at her, dumbfounded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Look at you, letting your mummy put makeup on you,” she said, “Wearing
her pantyhose.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“But I…” I tried to interject, but she would let me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Freshening up your lipstick like a little sissy that you are,” she
said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Come on, that’s not fair,” I said, as I started tears of shame welling
up behind my eyes, “You wanted me to do that.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Then my tears started to flow. Sarah watched me in silence for a while.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“If you’re going to cry like a girl, let me give you something to cry
about,” she said. Before I could react, she pulled me down over her knees,
hiked up the skirt of my dress and started spanking me. I squealed with shock
and wiggled as I tried to get up, but her grip was too strong. Eventually, I
had to concede I was not getting off until she would let me, and started
weeping in earnest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I didn’t even notice she had stopped, when she lifted me off her lap,
then pulled me down again, only facing her this time, and started kissing me
possessively. Hurt, insulted and angry at her, I pushed against her, but to no
avail. Just like during the spanking, I realized that I wasn’t getting off her
lap until she decided so. I stopped pushing back and welcomed her thrusting
tongue in my mouth, feeling her lips, stiffly pressed against mine, smear out
my lipstick. Feverishly, she reached under my skirt, pulled down my pantyhose
and panties, then pushed me back on the couch and straddled me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">When she collapsed on me afterwards, breathing heavily in my ear, my
mind started to wander back to the closet. It looked like it was going to get
filled up with more clothes, but that was probably going to take a couple of
days. I had to figure out what I would wear until then.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08251557995803362070noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-64673489595604889832018-05-03T12:10:00.002-07:002018-05-03T12:10:52.303-07:00Another snippetDear readers,<br />
<br />
Posted below is another short snippet I've written recently. As usually, it started out with an outfit I saw on a TV presenter, then grew into a story, albeit not a very long one. The background is only implied, though seasoned readers of TG fiction will probably have no trouble figuring what is going on.<br />
<br />
Rosie.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br /><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Although I have spotted my wife the moment she
arrived to the party, mixed in with the upper management group, it takes me a
while before I realize that it’s actually her. It is her height that made it
easy to spot her, and it is the only thing about her that helps me finally
recognize her. Everything else about her seems changed. Almost all of the
refreshments are already at the banquet tables in the center of the hall but I
still fiddle around the kitchen area. Hidden from her own view, I admire my
wife from the background.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She’s wearing a pink leather blazer over her
simple black top, the open bodice hemmed by a bright red zipper, and pink
leather ribbons hanging loosely from the cuffs of its ¾ length sleeves. With
deft use of makeup, her rugged, almost manly features are smoothed to a
perfectly feminine form. Even her previously jet black hair, is now dyed to an
almost blond shade, with platinum highlights and while it’s still short, she
wears it in a wavy style. On top of it all, she’s wearing high heeled shoes and
a black knee length, pleated satin skirt. The glistening fabric captivates my
attention for more than just a moment. I stand frozen, looking at her absently
and finally step back into the kitchen nook to avoid being seen by her just at
the very last moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">With my back to the wall, I try to remember
when it was the last time I have seen Joanne last dressed like… well, like a
woman. It is hard to believe she has changed so much in the past two weeks
since we last saw each other. I sneak a peek around the door frame, and she’s
already moving back into the center of the room with a loaded plate. On one
hand, I am amazed that nothing about her betrays the manly figure I have become
accustomed to, though on the other, I am relieved that despite her utterly
feminine look, she still carries her with the same confidence and, for the lack
of a better word, power.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I feel a pang of jealousy as I see her smile
and talk to the men around her, who no doubt gaze her adoringly. With her
masculinity suddenly gone, my own femininity, which I seemed to have finally
learnt to accept, now seems both pointless and again in the center of my full
awareness. Even before my conversion, when I was still a man, I could never
measure up to any of the men I see Joanne talking to, but now, standing at the
back of the room, with my pale green and white polka dot blouse tucked into the
high waistband of my light grey grosgrain skirt, I feel more inadequate than
ever.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">In this moment of gloom, when I’m actually
contemplating leaving the party, I finally catch her gaze. The way her face
lights up when she sees me makes me realize just how silly I’ve been. She could
have any man in the room yet, I am reassured as she discretely excuses herself
and moves away from the group, still choses to be with…well, whatever she has
created of me. Still, I can feel the jealousy persist, and I realize I’m
actually feeling jealous over the fact I’m not the feminine one of the two us
anymore.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“If I didn’t know any better, I’d thought you
were hiding from me,” she says as she takes us out of the banquet hall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I didn’t recognize you,” I say, as she calls
for an elevator.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The elevator is crowded and we have to separate
again. Though it’s only for a couple of moments, I can hardly bear to be away
from my wife and I am strangely comforted to find her sneaking glances at me in
the elevator mirror. We reunite only after stepping off on her floor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I’m not used to seeing you look like that,” I
shyly say as we enter her hotel room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Like what?” she chides.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Well, you know…” I reply nervously.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Looking like a woman?” she smiles.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Dryly, I nod.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I thought you said that …” suddenly, I’m
overcome with tears and I look away as I feel the hot streams across my cheeks,
but Joanne gently yet firmly cups my chin in the palm of her hand and makes me
face her again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">With an unmistakable nod of her face, she makes
me continue what I was trying to say.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I thought you said I would be the one to wear
the skirts,” I finally manage to say.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“What, and let you have all the fun?” she says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“But I thought you said it wasn’t appropriate
anymore for you to…” I try to say, then pause for words.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Well, that it wasn’t appropriate for you be
the woman,” I finally say. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">She pulls me down in her lap. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“That’s still true,” she says, “It wasn’t
appropriate for me to act like a woman because I was making a point that it
wasn’t appropriate for you to act like a man.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">I squirm with embarrassment. For a second, I
try to get off her lap, but she won’t let me. With my hands on her shoulders, I
feel the pink leather pulled taught against her muscles. Though I’m not
struggling to get up anymore, I’m still wiggling in her lap. Although my body
is wrapped in a cocoon of silk, satin and nylon, I finally manage to press the exposed
skin of mu thighs, between the legs of my panties and the tops of my stockings,
against her skirt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“But now that I’ve proven my point, I want to
go back to normal,” she says, “Especially before we finally move back home.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The zipper of her blazer feels rough on my chin
as she kisses me on the lips. My left hand snakes around her neck while my
right hand slips off her shoulder and reaches underneath her jacket. As I cup
her firm breast, I am a little disappointed by the plain fabric of her top, though
at the same time, I feel a pleasant tingling as the skin of my thighs starts to
make out the sharp edges of the pleats among the slipperiness of the satin. As
her tongue is probing my mouth, I feel myself submerging in this whirlpool of
caresses. Mustering the last remaining strengths, I break off the kiss and try
to focus my mind on the impact of her words. With the prospect of having my own
life back, the past humiliations seem even more pointless, yet also suddenly
irrelevant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You mean…” I pant, then pause for a second.
She gazes at me with a raised eyebrow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“You mean we’ll go back to how it used to be?”
I ask, hopefully.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“My sweet husband,” she says, “My poor, poor,
sweet husband.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Won’t we?” I say, trying not to let my hope
wither away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“We’ll go to how things ought to be,” she says
and pushes me on the bed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“What does that mean?” I panic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">Seemingly oblivious of my sudden distress,
Joanne hikes down my panties.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“What do you think it should mean?” she asks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Will you let me wear…” I begin, but stop when
she straddles me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“I will let you wear whatever you think it’s
appropriate, honey,” she says, then spreads out her skirt across my legs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">The tight pleats are a black, shimmering sea
that captivates my consciousness as she moves rhythmically up and down, washing
away my awareness that this is my last chance to free myself from the
femininity I had allowed myself to succumb to, until I hear myself seal my
fate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;">“Will you let me borrow your skirt?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08251557995803362070noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-47925172156601237512018-02-14T09:53:00.001-08:002021-02-17T16:20:17.496-08:00Anything You Can Do...<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Here's a short, two page comic commission for author James Craft that I completed last night, just in time for Valentine's Day.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CyGXwZkLIHo/YC2ynGKQ40I/AAAAAAAABd8/bJqO9csR52Qld3Sd7O7cWwNj3k6u9EwxwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1700/v-day%2B2%2Bpage%2B1%2Bcolor_edited-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1700" data-original-width="1077" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CyGXwZkLIHo/YC2ynGKQ40I/AAAAAAAABd8/bJqO9csR52Qld3Sd7O7cWwNj3k6u9EwxwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/v-day%2B2%2Bpage%2B1%2Bcolor_edited-3.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-luvz1JDIZEc/YC2yr2QFXpI/AAAAAAAABeA/QXqnHWxgS9Ifk1kfyEtGmaav0vYNAukeACLcBGAsYHQ/s1676/v-day%2B2%2Bpage%2B2%2Bcolor_edited-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1676" data-original-width="1084" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-luvz1JDIZEc/YC2yr2QFXpI/AAAAAAAABeA/QXqnHWxgS9Ifk1kfyEtGmaav0vYNAukeACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/v-day%2B2%2Bpage%2B2%2Bcolor_edited-4.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>
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rocketdavehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00574717380856957685noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-46824812194297892642018-02-02T12:26:00.002-08:002018-02-02T12:26:32.040-08:00(another) Intervention<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Dear Readers,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">this is yet another variation on the theme where a powerful lady sees something more in the hero's casual cross-dressing and is determined to set things right for everyone. Although this particular one evolved from one of my Scenes from Family Life, it has been stripped of the father-son interaction, so it can be enjoyed by everyone ;)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Hope you like it!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Rosie.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<h2>
<span lang="EN-GB"><a name='more'></a></span><span lang="EN-GB">Intervention</span></h2>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh, hi, Erica Anna,” I said, surprised to see
my wife’s assistant at the door, “Caroline’s not home.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I know,” she said, “I’ve come to speak to
you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh?” I said. Without waiting for an
invitation, the tall, burly girl brushed past me, handing me her coat in the
process. I had no choice but to trail after her, stopping only to hang her
coat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">A frequent guest to our house, she made herself
at home by the time I warily joined her in the living room. She sat on the good
sofa, slouched slightly forward. She was wearing a black, short sleeved top
that openly displayed her thick arms. The striking contrast of the pale skin
against the black fabric captured my eyes for more than a moment and I found
myself wandering, as so many times before, how much of that thickness was down
to fat, and how much to muscles.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Can I get you something to drink?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Not right now,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“OK,” I said, “What is it you want to talk
about?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I think you know,” she said, with a sly smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I’m sorry, but I don’t, Erica Anna,” I said, trying
to hide my exasperation as I pronounced her both names, like she had always
insisted on. As if it was not enough that I had endure her presence when my
wife was around, now this base, yet pretentious girl who to me was the most
prominent symbol of the changes brought on by my wife’s career, was now
invading my free time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“You’ve been spending an awful lot of time
preparing for a fancy dress party lately,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh, that,” I muttered, seething inwardly. She
was referring to the occasions when I was dressed as a woman while she was at
our house, for some reason or other. Frankly, I was surprised that she had
taken note of that at all, since she had always appeared to be so taken by
Caroline.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I have also noticed that Caroline and you have
been fighting a lot, recently,” she added.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">As her new career started to take off, Caroline
was getting more aggressive at home, too, which I was not prepared for. The
ferocity of our arguments kept escalating until the breaking point. What seemed
to be yet another argument about some trivial thing made Caroline turn all her
guns on me. From her closet, she pulled out a dress and would not relent until
I put it on. After what seemed an eternity of screaming, slamming of doors and
even some pushing and shoving, I finally relented and put on the dress over my
underwear. It was a humiliating ordeal that had me in tears for most of the
time, and I swore to myself I’d never go through something like that again. Not
long after, though, I wore the dress again, and this time with all the
trimmings, as Caroline made me cross-dress for her company’s Halloween party. I
couldn’t decide what was more embarrassing, Caroline’s discrete yet persistent dropping
of hints of my true identity, or that, without her aid, no one could realize I
was not a woman. Ever since, all of our arguments ended with Caroline forcing
me to put on her clothes. While she didn’t seem to be bothered about keeping my
punishments private, at least she didn’t reveal the true reason behind my cross
dressing, leaving me to explain to the bemused visitors to our house that I was
practicing for a fancy dress party. Humiliating as it was, I still found it
better than admitting that I was forced to wear dresses by my wife. Moreover, practicing
for a fancy dress party had always seemed like a plausible cover up, especially
as I could always count on a future public event I would have to attend as a
woman, whether it was an actual fancy dress party or not. It certainly seemed
to appease most people who only saw me from time to time, including my mother.
While sceptical at first, once having seen pictures of me from the actual party,
she agreed that it did indeed made sense to practice beforehand, and that I
made a very convincing woman. Still, I was constantly worried that someone
might see through this excuse. I had just never thought that my wife’s
assistant had the intellect, or the interest, to figure it out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“What goes on between my wife and I is none of
your business,” I said dryly, taking care not to sound disrespectful, and at
the same time wondering if Erica Anna indeed knew the true reason behind my
cross dressing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“That’s where you’re wrong, see,” she said, “It
literally is my business.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I let my anger get the best of me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I’m sorry, but I find it very difficult to
believe that Caroline sent you here to snoop into our marriage,” I spat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“She didn’t,” she said, “She didn’t have to.
Caroline is not my boss.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh no?” I said angrily, “Who is, then?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Caroline is my co-worker,” she replied calmly,
“My boss is the same as hers, the CEO of the company.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Really?” I said sarcastically, “And the CEO
happened to tell you to come here tonight.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I realize this is upsetting to you,” she
began.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“You’re my wife’s personal assistant,” I hissed
at her, “Don’t let it get to your head. And don’t stick your nose where it
fucking doesn’t belong.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Retaining her calmness, she gave me an icy stare
that quickly made me realize I had pushed too far. After waiting for another
moment, she continued with the same restrained composure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Caroline has her position with its job
description, and I have mine. My job,” she said, “Is to make sure that there are
no obstacles which would prevent Caroline from focusing on her job. In other
words, my job is to help Caroline to live, and function, up to her full
potential, and it’s clear to me that this won’t happen until she is distracted
by what’s going on in her marriage. So I’m here to make that stop.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I swallowed hard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“How?” I asked weakly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Be honest with me, Simon,” she said, with a
kinder tone, “There is no fancy dress party, is there?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I looked at her pleadingly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“There will be one,” I said, “Eventually.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Simon, please,” she smiled, “Be honest with <i>yourself</i>. This has been going on for
long enough.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I took a deep, sighing breath. In a way, it
made sense that Erica Anna would be the one to figure out the truth, despite
not being the sharpest tool in the shed. For one thing, she was a frequent
visitor to our house, so she had a lot of opportunities to pick up on what was
going on. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t even be surprised it if turned out
that it was Caroline who told her everything. Even though she Erica Anna was
her assistant, her own claims notwithstanding, she did have a remarkable
influence over my wife.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Erica Anna, look…” I began, but she stopped
me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“You don’t have to explain,” she said, “I know
your sort.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I’m sorry,” I said, flabbergasted, “My sort?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“You’re kind of men,” she smiled, then added
boastingly, “I’ve done my research. I’ve read about this, and I would like to
say it up front that there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be a woman.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">With my mouth agape in astonishment, it took
all of my concentration to keep from breaking out in a smile as a wave of
relief swept over me. The fool girl didn’t know anything, after all. A sense of
panic crept back up my spine nonetheless. Erica Anna was not the sort of person
I would trust with such a notion. Still, my secret was safe, and all I had to
do now was to humour Erica Anna before my wife came home and set things
straight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"> “I
realize that it might appear that way,” I said, trying to stop her, but she
didn’t seem to hear me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“And frankly, in your case it only makes
perfect sense to be a woman, anyhow,” she said, matter-of-factly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I looked at her bluntly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I beg your pardon?” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh come on, look at yourself,” she said, “You
don’t look very macho, do you? You’re short and thin, and you’ve got these soft
manners about you. You’ll fit in as a woman way better than you ever could as a
man.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Well thank you for this… encouragement,” I
said, not altogether without bitterness, “But I assure you that I in fact don’t
want to become a woman.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Well, <i>I</i>
can assure <i>you</i> that you do,” she
said, “I’ve told you that I’ve read about it. A lot of men who became women
didn’t know it was what they wanted until quite late in their lives. In fact,
they had no idea about it until, by some chance or other, they dressed up as a
woman for the first time. They realized they liked it, kept doing it until
finally transitioning.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I cringed inwardly at the emphasis she put on
that word.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Be that as it may,” I said again, but she
didn’t listen this time either.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“That’s what’s happened with you,” she stated
confidently.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“What, exactly?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“At the Halloween party last year, when you
dressed up as a woman,” she said, “That’s when you realized you liked it. Since
then, you’ve been trying on Caroline’s clothes more and more. Now, you’re
dressing up almost every other day. Meanwhile, your marriage suffers.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Based on what she had seen, it was hard to
argue with that logic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Before we discuss this further,” she said,
before I could think of an effective counterargument to her reasoning, “I think
it’s time you changed in proper clothes.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I felt my heart skip a beat as I weighted my
options. After what she had just said, putting on women’s clothes would play
right into her way of seeing things and make it harder to argue it wasn’t accurate.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” I
said weakly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Well, I’m not leaving until you do,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">On the other hand, she <i>had</i> seen me dressed up several times before. As far as she was
concerned, I had been dressing up on my own accord and so dressing up one more
time would in fact change nothing about her perception. Moreover, in the time
it would take me to change, Caroline would surely be home already.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“If you insist…” I said, “But it might take a
while.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I do,” she replied, “And I can give you a hand
if you have any trouble.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">With the unspoken threat handing in the air, I
hurried off to the bedroom. While Caroline has long since stopped telling me
specifically which clothes she wanted me to wear, there was no doubt that she
preferred me in gauzy dresses, full skirts and frilly blouses, so I dressed
accordingly. But seeing how I wasn’t going to dress up on her demand this time,
I thought I could try something different. Instead of a frilly dress, I opted
for a smart charcoal grey skirt suit that had caught my attention a couple of
days ago and I remembered wondering if I’d feel any less hopelessly dominated
by my wife if I wore something like that instead of my frilly dresses. It did
feel different, however, the pastel blue blouse that I paired it with, with its
frilled bodice and by revealing my teal lace trimmed lingerie, did a lot to
diminish the severity of the suit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Erica Anna nodded in approval when I got back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Feels much better now, doesn’t it?” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I don’t know,” I said sheepishly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Simon,” she said, taking both of my arms in
hers, “You have every right to be happy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">The sincerity of her voice moved me almost to
tears, and I felt a pang of guilt for not having been more honest with her from
the beginning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“But Caroline deserves to be happy, too,” she
continued, and a sense of panic struck into me. Instinctively, I tried to pull
my hands back in my lap, but they were immobilized by Erica Anna’s vicelike
grip.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“What… what do you mean?” I asked, “Isn’t she
happy?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Do the fights you’ve been having make it look
like she’s happy?” she said, “It’s time you put a stop to it. And I’m here to
make sure that you do.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“By dressing up even more?” I asked,
incredulously.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Caroline needs stability in her life,” Erica
Anna said, “Of course she owes you her support, but in the end, your home is
where <i>she</i> turns to for support, too.
It’s clear to me that the strain of your transition is already taking its toll,
what with all the fights you’ve been having recently. Caroline deserves not
having to deal with the uncertainty and the stress of living with a husband who
is constantly flipping between a man and a woman. It’s time for you to finish
your transition, Simon.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Or I could just stop dressing up altogether?”
I feebly offered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh, Simon,” Erica Anna smiled at me, “You owe
it, if not to yourself, then to those you share your life with, to be honest
with yourself. It is not just to yourself that you’re lying, but to your wife
as well. I’m here to help you in that feat of honesty, in becoming a woman.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">For all of the power and executive attitude it
radiated, it did not help to wear my wife’s skirt suit for this conversation. I
realized that holding out until Caroline got home would be much harder than I
had thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I know that you’ve read this is how it
happens,” I said, warily, “But it’s not unheard of that some men dress up as
women without actually wanting to become women. At least not the whole time. Just
for fun, you know? Become a woman, maybe, but just temporarily?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I have heard of that,” Erica Anna replied,
“But as I’ve said, Caroline can’t have temporary solutions, based on what’s fun
or not in the whim of a moment. She needs permanent solutions.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Just for the sake of argument,” I said, “How
can you be sure I’m not one of these men? That I don’t actually want to become
a woman? You did say that <i>my</i> happiness
was important, too.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"> “Well, I
do have to give you the benefit of doubt, don’t I?” she said, “So here’s what
I’ll do. Did you know that before they allow a man to undergo sex reassignment
surgery, they have a test to make sure it’s what he really wants?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Her words send a chill up my spine. Sex
reassignment surgery? I wasn’t gently pulling against her, anymore, I was
wildly bucking at her hands, trying to get away, but she kept her grip.
Eventually, I had to accept that I was not going to get away from her and sat
down again, this time right next to her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Do you know what the test is?” she asked me,
as if nothing out of the ordinary had just been going on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“No,” I replied, defeated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“It’s really clever,” she quipped, “They make
him live as a woman for a set period of time, like a year or so. This is what
I’m going to do with you. You will live as a woman for a year, and then, if
you’re certain it’s not what you want, you can go back to being a man.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Although still too shocked to speak, I was relieved
that at least she did not have the worst planned for me. A couple of moments
passed and as my heartbeat slowly returned to normal, I realized that nothing
had really changes. I still only needed to make Erica Anna think I was engaging
in the conversation while waiting for Caroline to come home and put an end to
this nonsense, although I couldn’t see as clearly how she would do that as
before. At the same time, I couldn’t help but wonder how Caroline and me would
settle our arguments if I did dress like a woman the whole time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“What about my work?” I asked carefully.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">The only place I was safe from Caroline’s
punishments was at work, which remained my sole sanctuary of my masculinity and
independence, despite the fact that my salary was now transferred directly to
Caroline’s account, to which I had no access to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“What about it?” she replied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I can’t just show up as a woman, can I?” I
said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Actually, I don’t see why you couldn’t,” she
replied, “There are laws which prevent them from firing you over that, and even
if they did, or you didn’t want to work there anymore, you can always count on
an opening in our company.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">The assertiveness of her voice made me realize
that this was not just some wild fantasy anymore.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“As a woman?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“What else?” she asked, “Actually, with you
employed by our company, it would be much easier for me to help you with all
that you’ll need to do.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“What do you mean?” I said, worriedly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I’ll help you change your official documents,”
she explained, “And your health plan would cover certain medical procedures,
even surgical ones.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Surgery?” I whinced.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Well,” she said, “More like cosmetic
procedures. Facial hair removal, some botox, nothing serious.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“But why?” I said, “Isn’t this going to be just
a test?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Of course it is,” she said, “But you need to
go through it as a woman, not as a man dressed like one.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I see,” I muttered absently.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Now, I understand you call yourself Simone,”
she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“That’s what Caroline calls me,” I replied.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Too close to Simon,” she retorted, “Susan is a
much more suitable name. Susan Margaret Perkins.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Perkins?” I repeated my wife’s maiden name,
which she had taken to use professionally lately.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“You do want to remain being married to
Caroline, don’t you?” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Shouldn’t we discuss this all with Caroline,
first?” I asked, in a last ditch attempt to solve the situation at least
partially by myself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I will,” she said, “Later on. Though don’t
worry about Caroline, she will know that what you will do is the right thing
for her.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“How can you say that without talking to her
first?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Caroline and I have a special relationship,”
she said, “I don’t have a job because I’d know a lot about retail or logistics
or marketing like Caroline does. I have a job because I know what a person
needs, and what a person wants much better than they know it themselves. I
won’t deny that Caroline often struggles to accept what I tell her, but in the
end she always does, and she always benefits from it. She is able to do a
better job, and that is all that matters in the end.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I do hope that we will be able to form the
same sort of relationship,” she went on, “And in a way, I feel that we have
already started. But, as Caroline will tell you, I do need to you to
acknowledge your acceptance of this relationship.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Smart girl,” she smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“How do you want me to acknowledge it?” I
asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“We will perform a ceremony,” she said, “A
highly symbolic one though at the same time I often find it very practical. You
might find it a tad embarrassing, but I promise you that I will be as dignified
about it as possible.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Wordlessly, I nodded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Stand beside me, please,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Obediently, I stood up, smoothing down my
skirt. Erica Anna straightened herself on the sofa, uncrossed her legs, pressed
her knees together and, looking me straight in the eye, patted her lap.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">With hot tears of humiliation welling up behind
my eyes, I lowered myself across the knees of my wife’s assistant for a
ceremonial spanking. Just as she succeeded to hike up my tight skirt and reveal
my panties, I heard the hallway door open.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Try to keep count,” Erica Anna said
cheerfully, “Caroline usually cries at the sixth stroke, don’t you, Caroline?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">With my satin clad behind exposed, I glared at
the ashen faced figure of my wife in the corner of the living room. Suddenly, I
was not feeling so much humiliated as cheated, and tricked into letting myself
be spanked by my wife’s assistant, and dressed in my wife’s clothes. Determined
not to give either of the women the satisfaction of crying, I clenched my
teeth, thought the force of the first blow caught me by surprise and I twitched
in pain, bucking my head. When I raised my eyes up to the hallway door,
Caroline was nowhere to be seen anymore. I felt disgusted by the fact that the
same authoritarian woman who, with the threat of spanking, had been forcing me
to put on dresses, was for all that time being spanked herself, by a girl half
her age. Even though waiting for the second blow seemed to take an eternity, it
landed on my buttocks before the pain of the first one had fully subsided. I
couldn’t help but audibly draw a sharp breath as my body, again, involuntarily
shook and contorted. Keeping my head down, I noticed Caroline sit down at the
opposing sofa. The look in her eyes was not the look of force and determination
I had come to know, but a strange, frightened look of a woman wondering if she
was next in line for the same treatment that I was just receiving. A sense of
dread crept over me as I realized that Caroline’s presence would not even a
little change the fact I was completely at Erica Anna’s mercy. I realized that
this was no time to try to impress my suddenly irrelevant wife with my
stubbornness. Instead, I needed to make Erica Anna aware I was acknowledging our
special relationship while I, at the same time acknowledged that I would indeed
be living as a woman from now on. At the third blow, I waved my arms and kicked
my legs theatrically, and let out an not altogether faked high pitched, girlish
scream. Then, the tears started to flow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08251557995803362070noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-87731451999342663252018-01-15T15:07:00.000-08:002018-01-15T19:09:10.270-08:00School, Siblings and Other S***<span style="font-family: inherit;">I don't think I ever posted this pic here. It was a commission for fellow artist <a href="https://fraylim.deviantart.com/" target="_blank">Fraylim</a> whose feminization art I've admired through the years while perhaps feeling a bit intimidated by their talent at the same time. I worked really hard on the last book I illustrated, and the little feedback I saw was mostly positive, but I also saw one comment from some insensitive individual who said that the publisher should have gotten Fraylim to illustrate it instead. Well, I was flattered someone like Fraylim would want to commission me and I was determined to bring my A-game to this piece. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">For this commission, Fraylim wanted a before & after type of piece featuring their character Stuart/Stacy from a mostly unrealized series of theirs called School Daze. Stuart is a shy, stereotypical nerd whose aunt takes it upon herself to make him more popular at school. Naturally, she decides that the most effective way of accomplishing this is by transforming her wallflower nephew into an attractive girl. The rest of the details were left up to me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As someone who knows a little something about what it was like to be a shy, unpopular, somewhat nerdy kid, I was able to draw upon some of my own real life experiences for this: chiefly, my memories of sitting alone at lunch through most of middle school. There was also an incident in fifth grade in which a kid at the next table tossed a roll at me. I tossed it back at him and the vice principal made me stay inside during recess. The other kid didn't get punished because she hadn't seen him. One of the few times I decided I wasn't just going to meekly tolerate the almost daily harassment I received and I was the one who got in trouble for it. Dredging up that memory caused me to become incredibly irate at the inherent unfairness of it all, even all these years later. This is why I tend not to dwell on the past much; it angries up the blood.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Painful memories from my time at school were the primary reason I turned down an illustrating gig last year. An author with whom I've worked a few times in the past (one who I meet through Bea, actually) contacted me to enquire if I'd be willing to illustrate a book about a school in which the boys are forced to wear girls' uniforms. Based on that bare-bones description, it sounded intriguing, plus no other illustration projects had come my way in quite a while, so I expressed a tentative interest. Then I read a draft of the story and I could feel my enthusiasm draining out of me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">One of the main characters in this story is sent to this school against his will as punishment for misdeeds that were actually committed by his troublemaking twin brother, who seems to revel in his twin's unhappiness. That was bad enough, but the fact that all the authority figures in the feminized twin's life are either blind to or (in the case of the lady who runs the school) actively enable his brother's asshole behavior really stuck in my craw. To be honest, I have such discriminating tastes, I haven't liked most of the feminization stories I've illustrated, but I've usually managed to put aside my personal feelings when doing my work. Unfortunately, this story hit a little too close to home for me to simply shrug off my misgivings. I didn't have an evil twin, but I was picked on so much by my peers and was so miserable in school that I couldn't bring myself to work on a story like that, particularly one where there's no happy ending. My assumption is that people buy stories of this nature in order to be titillated, but all this one did for me was make me extremely annoyed and frustrated.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As far as I'm concerned, that was more than sufficient cause for me to back out of the project, but if I'm being completely honest there was another reason. No, not laziness. The more I thought about it, something about the tone of the story really rubbed me the wrong way. Spoiler alert: the real reason this school is forcing boys into skirts and silky blouses (this author is really in love with the word "silky"; I counted over a hundred uses in the draft I was sent) is to influence change in society that will supposedly somehow gradually lead to a complete reversal in traditional gender roles. Now, within this genre, a secret conspiracy by women is probably a pretty common trope. But the way words like "progressive" and "politically correct" were employed by the devious so-called "feminist bitches" in the story, it read less like a crossdressing fantasy and more like some right wing crackpot's paranoid fears of feminism run amok. Perhaps I was overreacting, but liberal snowflake that I am, I didn't feel comfortable lending my art to a narrative that seemed to have a warped view of what any of those terms actually mean. </span><br />
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It's puzzling to me that a fantasy about being feminized and subjugated by women can simultaneously come across as so misogynistic. I dunno, maybe there's something inherently sexist about a scenario that paints being made to look and act feminine as degrading. It would probably take someone smarter than me and with a better grasp of psychology to explain this apparent paradox.</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">If I sound liberal, you ought to meet my youngest sibling who, last spring during a car ride, told me that they now identify as gender neutral, had changed their name to a less gender-specific one and didn't want to be called by male pronouns anymore. I felt barely phased by this news at the time and accepted it in my typical blasé fashion. While I may be more than a little ambivalent about my own gender, I can't claim that I fully understood where my sibling was coming from, but I could tell that this was a difficult thing to tell me and felt that the least I could do was be supportive, especially when I knew that our dad would never be on board with this. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">As I thought about it some more after we parted, however, I couldn't help feeling a little melancholic. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's not an easy adjustment when someone who you've known since they were born suddenly wants to be called by a different name. I'm pretty open-minded, but I've also led a rather sheltered life, so this was a new concept to me. My sibling was so nervous telling me about this, I was half-expecting them to say that they wanted to be a woman (which might have explained their predilection for kilts). That actually would have been easier to not only get my head around, but relate to. When you look and act like a guy for the most part, though, it just kid of seems like you're making life unnecessarily difficult by taking issue when people refer to you as "he" or "him" or as a dad. I don't want to be a jerk about it; I just wish I understood it better.</span></div>
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Ironically, their birth name, while mostly associated with boys, can also be a girl's name. I try to refrain from mentioning Star Trek in every conversation to avoid coming across as overly geeky, but during that car ride, I was tempted to point out that the lead female character in the then-impending new Star Trek series had been revealed to have the same first name that my sibling had just eschewed for being too masculine. </div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The one thing that gives me a bit of a headache about all this is having to say "they" and "their." Because the English language isn't really equipped for referring to people in a non-gender-specific way<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">, </span>I've tap danced around using pronouns when talking about certain people online when I'm not sure what gender they wish to be identified by, but it's a difficult thing to avoid, particularly in casual conversation. It can be confusing, too. New Year's Eve, my sister, when talking about an upcoming visit by our younger sibling, said, "They're flying in on the fifth." I spent over an hour under the mistaken impression that our sibling was being accompanied by their wife. Sheesh. How did I end not being the weirdest one in our family? </span><br />
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This is completely apropos of nothing, but seeing that I've already basically hijacked the blog to talk about whatever's on my mind, I might as well finish by taking a quick moment to acknowledge the passing of Dolores O'Riordan, the lead singer of The Cranberries, which I learned about as I was in the middle of writing this. I'm embarrassed to say that I've never bothered to retain the memory of her name before now and I didn't even know the band was still together after all this time, but I've been a fan of their music for over a couple decades now and it's just a bummer to lose someone whose work you've enjoyed, especially at such a relatively early age.<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />rocketdavehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00574717380856957685noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-60155548530518965332017-12-23T23:50:00.000-08:002017-12-23T23:50:32.617-08:00Another Pink Xmas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It's been so long since I've posted anything, I almost forgot how to do it. This is not a new drawing; I did it almost a year ago, not quite in time for Christmas of 2016, but here it is now. I can't think of anything else to say about it.</div>
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<br />rocketdavehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00574717380856957685noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-3112515888653227742017-12-18T23:14:00.001-08:002017-12-18T23:14:15.740-08:00Manhattan Marriage<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IE; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">Didn’t realise it’s been so
long since I posted something. It’s coming up to Bea’s second anniversary on
Christmas Day and he would not be pleased. I thought I had better post
something before I get a visit from the Ghost of Christmas Past.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IE; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IE; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">I did not have time to
write something new so this will have to do, I posted this elsewhere so some
readers may have read it before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IE; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IE; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">The story is not based in
the present but in a more elegant period somewhere between the 30’s and 50’s. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IE; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IE; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">Have a good and safe Christmas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IE; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IE; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">Carrie <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IE; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IE; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IE; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IE; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A
Manhattan Marriage<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%;">By
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Kunstler Script"; font-size: 24.0pt; line-height: 115%;">CarrieP</span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> The
tears came. At first these came as short bursts of sobbing which then quickly
progressed to more prolonged weeping. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> It
had been a particularly trying afternoon for William but then again this was
now true of every afternoon or to be more precise it was true of every day. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-GB">No man
should have to go through this torture</span></i><span lang="EN-GB"> he said to
himself as he dried his eyes avoiding the mirror as he did so although he knew
this was ridiculous as he would eventually have to fix his make-up. He finally
composed himself and tried to gather his thoughts.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-GB">Of
course I know I shoulder some responsibility for this dreadful situation. I was
far too naive, mesmerised by the glamour and glitter of Sophia’s wealth and
position. Yes I was too gullible,</span></i><span lang="EN-GB"> he continued to
berate himself as he looked down at the full length housecoat of the softest
velvet in a most delicate shade of peach and felt another sob rise from within.
<i>So foolish, so stupid how could I have
been such an idiot.</i> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> These
were the thoughts that ran through his head as he looked around the large bathroom
of his mother in law’s spacious and elegantly appointed Manhattan apartment.
This outpouring of frustration and emotion had become a daily occurrence and
like every other aspect of his recent life it seemed powerless to control. Much
as he hated to admit it this utter lack emotional control was a particularly
feminine quality and one he seemed to be incapable of subduing. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-GB">It
all happened so fast but how did I allow it get to this stage? </span></i><span lang="EN-GB">he said quietly as he finally plucked up the courage to look at
himself in the mirror and recalled the early days of his relationship with
mother and daughter.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The van Horne’s were an old and extremely
wealthy New York family and mesmerised not only by this wealth but also the social
influence of Sophia and her mother he was flattered when he received an
invitation to dine with them. He was smitten from the very start and although
he felt Mrs van Horne was a little bit overbearing he reasoned this was from
the perspective of protecting her daughter from gold diggers and this he
thought entirely reasonable. In the subsequent weeks, seduced by their gilded
lifestyle, he was inexorably drawn into their orbit. Soon all three became
inseparable and it was not long before he was invited to stay with them on a
permanent basis. Their luxurious apartment in Manhattan and their large house
in the Hamptons made it impossible to refuse and he quickly became used to
their opulent way of life. From the beginning Mrs van Horne was very generous
to their new companion, fussing over him and lavishing him with expensive gifts
as well as opening accounts in the most exclusive stores. He often wondered how
he lived without such luxury and not only that but he now had the added bonus
of having an attractive woman as a girlfriend. It didn’t take too long before
Sophia’s mother made it known that she would welcome him as a son-in-law and
also made it abundantly clear he would benefit greatly from a union with her
daughter. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">It was only now dressed as he was that he
realised he should have been more circumspect in this new relationship when he
remembered what Mrs van Horne said on one occasion. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“He is such a darling boy Sophia, not a bit
macho or aggressive like those other men you have dated.... and those high
cheek bones and delicate features.... there are quite....<b><i>.</i></b> ”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">She paused for moment before exclaiming,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i><span lang="EN-GB">“Feminine.</span></i></b><span lang="EN-GB"> It’s almost
as if..... <b><i>”<o:p></o:p></i></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“<b><i>Mother!” </i></b> Sophia said brusquely cutting off her mother,
giving her a glare for good measure” You’re embarrassing William.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh I don’t mean to, you’re not embarrassed
are you darling?” her mother replied calmly as she acknowledged her daughter s
interruption by stroking his face gently.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">He was extremely disconcerted by her
remarks but was too flustered to say anything. Mrs van Horne continued,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> “
and..... <b><i> he has such wonderful
possibilities.</i></b>”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-GB">Those
words should have woken me up. </span></i><span lang="EN-GB">he said to himself
bitterly.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> The
wedding was hastily arranged and was an extremely low key affair just the three
of them and a city hall official as Sophia had to leave for Europe on a
prearranged trip for the cultural foundation which the family’s wealth funded.
A pathological fear of boats prevented William from accompanying his new bride
although looking back on it now he wasn’t sure if he was even asked.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“This is most irregular, a husband should
always be at his wife’s side. Seasickness is an extremely poor excuse for not
escorting my daughter abroad.” she snorted indignantly when he told her of his
phobia and only Sophia’s reasoned argument that she would be unable to
concentrate on her mission if she also had to look after him eventually calmed
her mother.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Think of it as a <i>quid pro quo </i>Mother.” Sophia said on the dock as she boarded the
liner.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“<b><i>What!”</i></b> her mother replied sharply.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Well you’re not losing a daughter you are
gaining a son.” Sophia answered.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Mmm...Quid pro quo, you say.” her mother repeated
in a thoughtful voice.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Perhaps it’s all for the best.” Sophia
said to William as she kissed him gently on the cheek “Mummy will need the
company when I’m gone and there is so much to arrange for the wedding reception
on my return, I’m sure you will be a great help and comfort to her.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Don’t worry Sophia.” her mother assured
her daughter, William could see her demeanour had changed considerably.“I will
take very good care of him as I always do. Isn’t that right William?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Yes of course Mrs van Horne.” he answered
a little nervously.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh come now, no need to be so formal dear
boy, we are family now.” his mother in law said as she slipped her arm under
his and drew him close, so close that he could feel the wiring in her large
brassiere.”You really must address me as Mummy. That will be part of our quid
pro quo, don’t you agree?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">He did not answer but she pulled him
sharply to her and arched her eyes in an inquisitorial manner. A reply was
expected – the correct reply. He felt extremely uneasy but did not want to
cause an argument just as Sophia was leaving.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Yes ...Mummy.” he said softly.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Wonderful. I’m so relieved you two are not
arguing. ” Sophia chirped as she kissed her mother and climbed the gangway.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Quid pro quo, dear boy, quid pro quo.” his
mother in law said as she led him away.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">****************************</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> “I
thought I should remind you...........” a voice interrupted his recollections.
Anna his mother in law’s loyal and trusted maid
appeared, a smile forming at the corner of her mouth, her eyes scornfully
scanning the figure in a lady’s housecoat, before belatedly adding in a tone dripping with mockery “....<b><i>Sir</i></b>.
Miss Sophia will be telephoning from Paris very shortly.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">He winced at the glaringly obvious
expression of ridicule in her voice. Only a few days ago he would berate her, a
mere maid, for such insolence but now dressed as he was and knowing that she would
report any such outburst to her mistress he knew it was best to ignore her
scornful manner and try to maintain some semblance of dignity.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Thank you Anna” he said trying to sound as
authoritative as a man could to whilst wearing his wife’s clothes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Would...<b><i>sir.</i></b>...like some help
with his make-up?” the maid asked as she entered the bathroom and unnecessarily
rearranged the already neatly folded towels. “Madam will be home shortly and
I’m sure she will wonder how your make-up became so smudged. She went to so much trouble applying it this
morning I really think she will not be pleased to find your face in such a
state.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">He looked in the mirror and saw she was
right, his tears had cause his mascara to run and the tissues he used to dry
them had ruined his immaculately made-up face and through the blotches he could
see his faint masculine characteristics trying to emerge. His mother in had warned
him on several occasions to ensure his make-up was always kept in perfect
condition and he knew she would not be pleased to find his face in such
disarray. Such was his anxiety about displeasing her he quickly agreed to the
maid’s suggestion.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Yes.... I suppose you are right.” he
reluctantly conceded.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The maid smiled as she stood to one side
and silently gestured he return to the bedroom and without having to be told he
walked to the dressing table holding up the long housecoat so he would not
trip.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“As sir will have to dress shortly I think
it would save time if you removed your housecoat before I retouch your
make-up.” Anna said.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">He could not see the point of this request
but the last few days dressed as a woman had destroyed his confidence and
without questioning her he timidly complied. He unbuttoned the housecoat and
she took it from him and placed it in on the bed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Is that Madam’s new Dior corselette?” she
said as she ran her hands over the heavy black satin material stretched tightly
over his buttocks.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">His embarrassment and vulnerability
prevented him from answering, he could only nod his confirmation. Anna
continued “it really gives you such a wonderfully feminine figure but ... if <b><i>sir</i></b>
will permit me... I think your straps need a little adjustment.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">He remained silent as she turned him
around, he could feel her warm breath on his neck and her groin pressing hard
into his plump behind as she altered the corselette’s brassiere straps to her
satisfaction and then gently stroked his arms. It took him a few seconds to
break free of the tight hold she had of him, Anna merely smiled at his feeble
attempt to shake off her grip, she finally let him go and he quickly moved to
the dressing table.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> “I
hope you don’t mind me saying ...<b><i>sir</i></b>” she said as she applied the
cream to his face “you have such fine features, high cheek bones, full lips,
expressive eyes and long lashes. And Madam’s hairdresser told me your hair was
a pleasure to work with....that perm really suits you and it only took two
hours under the dryer. Maybe next time she will bring you to the salon and you
can have your nails done at the same time. ”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">He visibly winced but remained silent, this
could not possibly be true. He had already done everything Sophia’s mother
asked – and more so there was no reason for him to continue to wear women’s
clothing. Anna was so loyal to her
mistress he did not want to say what he really felt because he knew this would be
immediately reported back and would only antagonise his mother in law. He
remained impassive hoping she would discontinue this line of conversation but
his reticence only enthused her.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I mean .. ” she said as she now applied a
smokey shade of eye-shadow “...it must make it so much easier for you.” He was
afraid to ask what she meant and held his tongue but it didn’t matter as she
clearly considered it a rhetorical question. She noticed his reluctance to
engage in the conversation and persisted in the one sided exchange.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Now that you have had a few days wearing
such beautiful clothes you probably feel more comfortable in skirts and
dresses, and Madam’s gorgeous corselette gives you such a womanly figure you
probably will not want to return to wearing men’s boring clothes. She told me you have been such a great comfort
and support to her while Miss Sophia is away she has purchased an entire
wardrobe especially for you. She really has such excellent taste in clothes,
wait until you see what she has bought for you. You will look simply stunning.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">He could not believe his ears, this was
some cruel joke on Anna’s part.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i><span lang="EN-GB">“W..what!” </span></i></b><span lang="EN-GB"> he almost screamed.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The sound of the phone rang in the bedroom.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Excuse me sir.” She said unfazed by his
outburst and left him with his mouth open “that will probably be Miss Sophia.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“No, this can’t be true.” he said out loud
“I’ve done everything she asked.”He was still trying to process what Anna had
said as the maid returned.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Miss Sophia is on the line from Paris....sir”
she said.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span lang="EN-GB">At
last</span></i><span lang="EN-GB"> he said to himself as he gathered the heavy
skirts of his housecoat and rushed to the bedroom. <i>Once Sophia hears what I have done to indulge her mother’s wishes she
will soon put a stop to this nonsense.<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Hello darling.” Sophia’s husky voice
crackled down the phone line “The voyage was quite pleasant, no bad weather and
we arrived on schedule. Paris is wonderful, we really must come here on our
honeymoon, you and Mother will absolutely love it. She sent me a telegram
telling me how marvellous you have been, she is so impressed with you.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh Sophia...”he interrupted her, his voice
almost breaking with emotion “it’s dreadful your mother has kept me in your
clothes since the day after you sailed.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Calm down darling, don’t get too
hysterical.” Sophia said in an unruffled tone “Yes dear, she telephoned me
earlier but just as she was about to explain the line broke down, she said
something about my wedding gown.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Yes..yes.. that’s how it started.” he
blurted “your dressmaker wasn’t aware you had left for Europe and arrived the
morning after you sailed with several bridal gowns that you wished to try on
before deciding which one you preferred. Your mother said she would like to see
them modelled before choosing one.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh that’s right, I trust Mother’s
judgement completely she has such wonderful instincts when it comes to these
things. She is a ........” his wife said but did not get to finish the sentence
.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“She said that as you and I were almost a
similar build … and I should.....” he interrupted her, his voice began to
quiver and he stifled a tear “...wear them for her. I refused but she and the
dressmaker insisted saying time was of the essence and they really must see the
gowns modelled before you returned.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">He could no longer hold back the tears and
he began weep.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Your... mother and Anna......”he sobbed
“practically ....forced me into one of the gowns”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh darling ...such a brave boy.” she said
encouragingly “I know we are a similar build but you are a little bigger than
me particularly around the torso....how did...?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“They.... made me wear...... “he snivelled
“....one of your mother <b><i>corselettes</i></b>.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“One of her black Dior ones I suppose or
perhaps it was the new Spirella with back lacing?” Sophia asked in a strangely
calm tone.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“The Spirella.”he replied “it was horrible
they laced me in so tightly, can you telephone her and tell her....”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Are you still wearing it?” she interrupted
him and brushed aside his request.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“No.... she put me in her Dior corselette
today, said it would be more comfortable” he answered distractedly then
desperately tried to persist with his request he blurted “but can you.....”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh that’s better.” she said continuing to
ignore his pleading “her Dior is certainly tight and figure reducing but it <b><i>is</i></b>
more comfortable than the new Spirella. I hated it when she insisted I wear it,
it is so constrictive but it does give one a glorious shape, don’t you think?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">This talk of the merits of women’s foundation
garments was making him quite agitated.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Please darling” he began to insist “can
you telephone her she wants to keep me in women’s clothes until you return. It
is just awful and most humiliating.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“William I asked you a question.” Sophia
said an annoyed tone in her voice.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The last thing he wanted was to make her
angry.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I… suppose so…” he was forced to reply</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Yes they do give a girl a wonderful shape”
Sophia said in a reassuring voice, before adding “Darling I know it’s difficult
but try to stay calm.You must understand Mother and I are rarely separated,
being an only child she and I have an extremely strong bond. Now that you have
married me she considers you even closer than a blood relation, she views you as the second child she never
had. Of course the fact that we have- through sheer luck- similar facial
features only strengthened this intense emotional connection and when she saw
you in the bridal gown she probably saw me. You must know just how emotional
mothers get when they see their daughters in bridal gowns.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“But...”William tried to interrupt but
Sophia ignored him and continued,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> “She
was terribly upset when she found out I had to leave for Europe and I know she
berated you for not coming but deep inside she was glad, your presence meant I was
still with her and she took great comfort in that. In our brief conversation
she said she could not manage without your phenomenal help and support.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“But I can be of comfort and support to her
without ...without...dressing in your clothes.” he appealed “it is so
humiliating having to wear skirts and blouses. She even insists I wear
make-up.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Of course she does. Every woman wears
make-up and I’m sure it makes you more presentable otherwise you would probably
look too masculine. ” his wife answered “please darling ....for my sake just
indulge her for the time being. I know this is difficult for you darling but
you have been absolutely wonderful so far. It’s only for another week or so and
it would break her heart if you did stop now. It means so very much to Mother.”
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“But ...I...” he began to protest.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Sophia quickly interjected.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> “Don’t
forget ......she is extremely generous and you will find you will be greatly
rewarded for your kindness.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“But darling..” he said and suddenly heard
a hissing on the line, hitting the cradle with his fingers he frantically
exclaimed “hello ....hello
Sophia are you there....”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The line went dead.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">************************************</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB"> “Good
afternoon Madam, shall I take your coat also?” Anna said as she took her
mistress’s stole.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“No Anna, I am not staying long I have a
meeting with my ladies club. They are simply dying to meet my son-in-law.” Mrs
van Horne replied checking her appearance in the hall mirror before turning
back to her maid “and how is our protégé progressing?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“He is a little upset again Madam, he keeps
fidgeting with the straps of his corselette, tugging at his garters and I have
to remind him to keep his heels on at all times.” Anna answered “I’m afraid he
still has not come to terms with his ....his...”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“<b><i>Feminisation?” </i></b> Mrs van Horne said “I believe that is the
correct term. He is such a darling boy, obviously does not realise he is far
too pretty to strut about in pants like most men. Good heavens with skin like
porcelain, small waist and those delicate features when he wears pants he looks
more like Katherine Hepburn than Humphrey Bogart and the sooner he realises
that the better. He looks so much better
in skirts and so much like Sophia, it’s almost like she never left.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“ Yes Madam, he does seem to lack rugged
masculine qualities.” Anna agreed “and
the ...ahem...the .. er.. ...protuberance in his chest area certainly does
give him a slightly feminine silhouette.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Yes those two small but wonderfully distinct
feminine mounds are apparently why he wears – or used to wear- loose fitting
shirts.”Mrs van Horne said as she refreshed her lipstick in the mirror “All the
more reason he should be wearing a proper brassiere. Don’t you agree Anna?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Of course Madam.” her maid concurred “In
fact I have noticed his posture has improved since he has been wearing one. And
if I may say so Madam, he does have quite shapely legs.....for a man.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Yes he does, doesn’t he? And those grey
seamed stocking are perfect on him.” Mrs van Horne agreed “And his attitude has
improved greatly, he wasn’t as compliant when I first met him, however as he
gradually came under my influence and I established my authority over him his
manner changed considerably. It was
quite subtle at first of course, he didn’t even know it had happened but after
a day or two I knew he would make the perfect male companion for me and an ideal
husband for Miss Sophia. You see Anna, society ladies like myself and Miss
Sophia require only the outward or superficial presence of a male, but as you
know very well, that is exactly what it is – a charade. Males are in fact mere
window dressing- trophy husbands for ladies like us. Of course the best way to
ensure they do not get ideas about any macho behaviour is to gradually dress
them in pretty feminine clothes. This engenders those wonderful qualities of
obedience and submissiveness in the male thus making him – as I have said - the
perfect companion and husband.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I think there is no doubt he will make Madam
a most suitable companion.”Anna said “but he does seem a little agitated at the
moment. He was crying in the bathroom earlier.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh that <b><i>is</i></b> a good sign Anna.” Mrs
van Horne chirped a broad smile spreading across her face “it means he is
coming to terms with his new circumstances, albeit reluctantly. It may also
mean he has a more feminine streak in him than we thought, after all what kind
of man is so easily persuaded into wearing a bridal gown and then his wife’s
trousseau.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Yes Madam it was wonderful to see his
masculinity fade under your persuasive arguments.” Anna said “I just wish Miss
Sophia was here to see it.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Yes but it will be worth it she will have
a perfectly trained wife when she returns in a few weeks.” Mrs van Horne
replied. “Now go fetch the dear boy I think he may need some reassurance and
his poor masculine ego may need a little massaging.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">***************************</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Ah, there you are ......my beautiful son-in law.” Mrs van Horne gushed as William
perched on his four inch heels minced his way into the drawing room.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh Mrs van.....”he bleated.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Now, now William.” she gently chided him
“I thought we agreed how you should address me. And while you are at it do so
in the correct manner that befits ladies of your social standing.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">The young man stopped and hesitated, he
could feel another layer of embarrassment envelop him but he knew he would have
to comply with her wishes otherwise there would be a prolonged conversation
which he would lose anyway. He swallowed hard and saw Anna, who had positioned
herself behind her mistress, smile triumphantly. He hated this form of address
as much as he hated his new clothes.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Good afternoon .......Mummy.” he said
quietly.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Can you speak up William, you are not a
schoolgirl meeting the headmistress.” his mother –in-law rebuked him.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Good afternoon ....Mummy.” he repeated in
a louder but still meek voice.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Much better.” Mrs van Horne said
approvingly, her voice more gentle now. “Now come and greet me the way we
agreed, in a more affectionate manner.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Hours spent in high heels under Anna’s
supervision now became second nature and he moved across the room in a
distinctively womanly gait and embraced his mother-in –law, kissing her on the
cheek in an unmistakably feminine fashion.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Now tell Mummy what <b><i>exactly</i></b> is upsetting
you?”Mrs van Horne asked in her most soothing voice.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“It’s just that.... well....”he said
haltingly almost afraid to say the words “....these clothes, Sophia’s
clothes....it’s just ....not right ... I mean I should have my....”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Ah yes my darling I think I understand.” his
mother-in- law gently interrupted his babbling “you feel you should have your
own clothes to wear.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Exactly!” he blurted and now that he could see she was in good humour,
he thought it a good idea to add ingratiate himself to her........“Mummy.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">He could see she was thinking over the idea
and he decided to press his case.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“You see Mummy I think I have worn Sophia’s
clothes long enough.” he began tentatively as she settled herself on the couch
and listened to him intently “I know you miss Sophia and that is very
understandable, she is your only daughter after all and I know you feel closer
to her when you see me dressed in her clothes but I’m sure I will still remind
you of her if I can wear my own clothes.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">He allowed his mother in law to absorb his
argument before continuing.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I will still be the same person and..” he
decided to play what he considered to be his trump card “ like Sophia I will
always be devoted to you.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Of course you are right dear boy, I should
have seen it sooner.”Mrs van Horne said “I suppose it was intolerable of me to
ask you to wear Sophia’s clothes. I see my mistake now, how foolish of me and
thank you for bringing it to my notice. Of course you should have your own
clothes.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">William breathed a sigh of relief. At last
she understood.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Tomorrow we will go to the most exclusive
stores in New York and buy you an entire wardrobe of new clothes.” she
exclaimed excitedly “you can have anything your heart desires, Chanel skirts,
Doucet blouses, Schiaparelli and Dior have the most wonderful ball gowns this
season. And of course we simply must get you your own lingerie and foundation
wear. Sophia and I always go shopping together but I never thought I would be
able to do this with you.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Suddenly he felt a lightness in his head
and his legs became weak, he began to tremble at the knees. His mouth opened
but no words came out.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh this is the most wonderful news.” his
mother-in-law exclaimed in a most excited voice and she stood up and embraced
her speechless son-in-law, “and if we have enough time we can get you a new
hair-do, oh..yes... and of course your nails, maybe even get your ears pierced.
There is so much to be done, isn’t this
thrilling? Oh dear you look pale.... is it all the excitement?”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-IE; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-IE;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I....I.....I think..... I need to sit
down.” he spluttered.</span></div>
Carrie Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16356755446225712759noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-81421150017257517382017-06-29T14:43:00.000-07:002017-06-29T14:46:28.639-07:00InterventionDear Readers,<br />
<br />
This story was meant as another of my 'scenes from family life' series, where lots of family members witness the feminization of one of the members, and even get feminized themselves in the course of the story. However, as I realize that father-son feminzation stories do not blow everyone's skirt up, I re-wrote the story to a more conventional setting. Beside the feminization itself, I wanted to explore the feeling of being trapped in the good intentions of someone who <i>just wants what's best for everyone.</i><br />
I present both versions, so that you can pick the one you like. Or, better yet, read both and tell me which one you like best.<br />
<br />
Hope you like it!<br />
<br />
Kindly,<br />
<br />
Rosie.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><b>Version 1</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Hello, everyone, sorry I’m late,” my mother in
law calls out as she lets herself into my parent’s living room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Hi, Eunice, Norm,” she greets my parents as
she confidently hands me her coat and bag, and sits down on the couch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Hello, Vera,” I say.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Hi, Phil,” she nods at me, then she sees
Rachel coming from the kitchen. She gets up to hug and kiss her daughter, then
sits down again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Great,” my wife, Rachel, says and sits down
next to me, “Then we can begin.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Begin?” my father says, bemused, “With what?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Ignoring him, she straightens out in her seat
and places her left hand in my lap, not so much for me to support her as to
keep me from running away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I have initiated this intervention,” she says
solemnly, “To address Norm’s desire to become a woman.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“What?” Vera spits out, “What is that all
about?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I assure you I have no such desire,” my father
says nervously.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Norm?” Rachel says calmly, ignoring his words
again, “Why don’t you explain to my mother what this is about?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">My father draws a deep breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Two weeks ago, Rachel caught me trying on
Eunice’s dress,” he says hotly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Ooh!” Vera cries out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Norm, be honest, you were more than trying it
on,” my wife says sternly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“OK, yes,” my father admits, “I wasn’t just
trying it on.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“You can only try a dress on once,” my wife
persists, “But that wasn’t the case, now, was it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“No,” my father says, “I’ve worn the dress
before.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I’m only trying to get all the facts,” Rachel
says in mock defence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“However, I have since discussed this with
Eunice,” my father says energetically, “And while all this is embarrassing, I
can assure you that that’s all that there is to it. I have no desire whatsoever
to become a woman. In fact, as far as I am concerned, we can close the
subject.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“No, honey,” my mother says, “We need to talk
things out.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I beg your pardon?” he says, surprised, “I
thought we have.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“It’s not that simple,” my mother says, smiling
awkwardly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Well, then couldn’t we have at least discussed
it in private?” my father says, noticeably annoyed, “Do we really have to do it
like that? How do you think this makes me feel?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Well, how do you think this makes <i>me</i> feel?” my mother says, agitated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Now, now,” Rachel says calmingly, “Let’s not
get too excited here. Norm, I think you may have an oversimplified view of the
matter.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">My father smiles nervously, paces a little bit
around the room and fidgets as he sums up the courage to meet my wife’s gaze.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“On the contrary, Rachel,” he says with a
nervous smile, trying to contain his rising anger, “I think that it is you who
are blowing things out of proportion here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">My wife draws an annoyed breath and a deathly
silence befalls the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I’m sorry,” my father says finally, “I didn’t
mean to be rude, but I really think that we are making a big deal out of something
that isn’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“That is what we’re here to find out, aren’t
we?” my wife replies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I suppose so,” my father says. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I’m glad we agree on that,” she says, “I’m
sure that you will also agree we can’t really discuss something we have no real
knowledge about.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Of course not,” my father agrees eagerly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Then I think it’s time for you to change into
a dress,” she says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Absolutely not!” my father retorts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Why not?” my mother says dryly, “It’s what you
want, isn’t it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“In private,” he hisses, “Not like this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Norm?” Rachel says, “We have all taken the
time and effort to help you, and your wife, with the new situation you are
dealing with. Don’t you think you owe us at least some effort from your side?
You said you yourself we can’t discuss what we don’t know. I think we all agree
it will help this intervention if you put on a dress, don’t we?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh, by all means,” Vera says excitedly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Actually, I…” I begin, but Rachel looks at me
sternly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Yes?” she says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Nothing,” I say, defeated before my ten years
older wife, and drop my gaze into my lap.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">As I slowly lift my eyes off the floor, I see
Vera’s warm, comforting smile. I am tempted to take it as unspoken consolation,
but I know that is simply a sign of approval of my total obedience to her
daughter. It is, after all, what she demands for herself, not just from me but,
in different degrees, from everyone on the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I understand you now have some dresses of your
own?” Rachel turns to my father again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Rachel, please?” he stutters, fighting tears,
“I’m a transvestite, not a transsexual. Transsexuals want to become actual
women, but transvestites just wear women’s clothes because it gives them sexual
pleasure.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Be that as it may,” my wife replies kindly,
yet dismissively, “Won’t you be so kind and change into some women’s clothes so
that we can carry this discussion further? Perhaps that new black and white
polka dot dress? The one with the ruffled collar and the cup sleeves? I
understood from Eunice you liked it a lot.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Ashen faced, my father wordlessly creeps out of
the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Why are you looking at Phil like that?” Rachel
asks her mother.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh, nothing,” she smiles dismissively, “I just
can’t help thinking. You know what they say – a seed doesn’t fall far from the
apple.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh, mother!” Rachel exclaims, sending a chill
up my spine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“He would make a good looking woman,” Vera
says, “Not too much muscle on him, he’s really not very tall, and those
eyelashes… Why, I bed he’d make a prettier woman than you, Rachel!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Now you’ve gone and insulted the both of us,”
Rachel says, smilingly, “Seriously, though, Eunice, has Phil ever dressed up
like a girl?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Not that I know of, no,” my mother replies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t like to,” Vera
says, “Maybe he’s just a late bloomer, like his father.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“How about that?” Rachel says to me, “Would you
like to dress up in women’s clothes, too?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“No, dear,” I reply, frightened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“But honey,” Rachel says, “How can you say that
if you’ve never tried?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“That’s what we can do next time you visit,
then,” Vera says happily.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I shoot a panicking glance at my mother.
Instead of help, she simply raises an amused eyebrow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“My old dresses might fit you just fine,” she
muses.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“But if I don’t like it, I don’t have to wear
them?” I say.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“It’s best if you try it for a couple of days,”
Vera says, “It might grow on you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Couple of days?” I panic, but no one pays any
attention to me anymore. A distinctive clacking sound announces the arrival of
my father.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">His masculine hairstyle gives him away at the
first glance, but although his makeup looks rather hastily applied, it is not
difficult to imagine him as a woman. Below the neck, the ruffled bodice, the
narrow waistline and the flared skirt of his dress deftly conceal any remaining
manly features, and it is not lost on any of us how adept he is at walking in
high heels.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Now Norm,” Rachel says to him as she sits down
by my mother, “You’re not really wearing this dress for sexual pleasure right
now, are you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“No,” he whispers in reply.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Well, then,” Rachel says triumphantly, “That’s
one question already answered.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Rachel, I swear…” he begins to explain in
panic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Shhh,” she silences him softly, “I appreciate
how embarrassing this must be for you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">He nods gratefully.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Which is all the more reason to believe that
there is much more than just sexual gratification behind your desires to dress
like a woman,” Rachel says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Tears are welling up behind his eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I’m only wearing the dress because you told me
to,” he whispers, “Not because I want to become a woman.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Norm, Norm,” she smiles, “You owe it to yourself,
and to everyone here today, to explore your desires, and to get to the bottom
of this, don’t you think?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I… I… I guess so,” he stammers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Now, Eunice has been very understanding and
accommodating so far, wouldn’t you agree?” she says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh, yes,” my father says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Then you will also agree that she does not
deserve to be punished for her kindness with a life of secrecy and
uncertainty,” my wife says kindly, yet decisively.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“What do you mean?” my father replies,
worriedly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I mean that you can’t keep changing back and
forth whenever it suits you,” Rachel says, “Because it’s not just you that’s
affected by this, but Eunice, too. She deserves stability in her life.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“But, honey,” he turns to my mother, “We’ve
been through this. I thought you understood…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Just listen to what Rachel has to say,” my
mother replies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I’m saying that you should live as a woman
until you figure out what you really want, Norm,” she says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Well, in that case, it’s quite clear,” he says
hastily, “I don’t want any of that. I’m done. Okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“No,” my mother says, “You’ve tried that
before, and look at you now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“But I can’t…” my father stammers, “What about
work? What about our friends?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“You better pick a name,” Rachel says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Name?” he repeats.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I don’t suppose you’ll still want to be called
Norm from now on?” Rachel muses.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I.. I..” my father stammers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I quite like Melissa,” Vera says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Melissa?” my mother says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Maybe it’s the dress, but he, I mean, she
looks like a Melissa to me,” Vera replies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I’m not sure about that,” my mother says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Luise? Heather? Beatrice?” Vera suggests.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Melissa is fine,” Rachel says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“No!” my father says, standing up, “I’m not
doing any of this. I’m sorry, but no! Enough is enough.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Melissa!” Rachel hisses, “We came here today
to offer you a helping hand in your life. If you don’t want that help, fine.
But we’re also here because we love Eunice very much, and we’ll be damned if we
don’t make sure that she’s done right by.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Damn right,” Vera says menacingly, getting up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">A moment of tense silence passes. I note that
my father’s mascara is streaked with tears.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Mother?” Rachel says to Vera, “I think we have
discussed all that needed to be discussed today. Why don’t you take Phil home?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“My pleasure,” she says and offers me her elbow
in a gentlemanly fashion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Although it’s embarrassing, I take it
welcomingly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Better yet?” Rachel says as we head out
towards the door, “I might have to stay with Eunice and Melissa for a couple of
days. Why don’t you take him to your place instead? I’d hate to leave him all
alone for so long.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh, yes!” my mother in law enthuses, and gives
me her handbag. Silently, we walk towards her car. There, she opens the
passenger door for me, then waits until I get in, closes it and sits in the
driver’s seat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Keep that handbag in your lap, honey,” she
says to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Yes, Vera,” I say.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“And please,” she says, “Call me mummy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I watch the road as she drives off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Mummy?” I begin warily, “Shouldn’t you take
that right turn just now?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Whatever for?” she replies, “I’m taking you to
my place, not yours, remember?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Yes, but I’ll need to take some clothes from
home before,” I say.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“No need for that,” she says merrily, “I’m
taking you shopping instead.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Shopping?” I say.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Remember what we talked about?” she winks at
me, “After all, why should Rachel get all the fun?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b>Version 2</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Hello, everyone, sorry I’m late,” Vera calls
out as she lets herself into our living room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Hi, girls,” she says as she confidently hands
me her coat and bag, and sits down on the couch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I note in wonder that our house has suddenly
filled up with my wife’s girlfriends. Beside Vera, there’s also Rachel, Barbara
and Jennifer, as well as my wife, Eunice, of course.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Hello, Vera,” I say.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Hi, Phil,” she nods at me, then she sees
Rachel coming from the kitchen together with Eunice. She gets up to hug and
kiss them, then sits down again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Great,” Rachel, says and sits down next to me,
“Then we can begin.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Begin?” I say, bemused, “With what?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Ignoring me, she straightens out in her seat
and places her left hand on my thigh. Alarmed, I look at my wife, but she just nods
in approval. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"> “I have
initiated this intervention,” Rachel says solemnly, “To address Phil’s desire
to become a woman.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“What?” Vera spits out, “What is that all
about?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I assure you I have no such desire,” I say
nervously.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Phil?” Rachel says calmly, ignoring my words
again, “Why don’t you explain to Vera what this is about?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I draw a deep breath.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Two weeks ago, Rachel caught me trying on
Eunice’s dress,” I say hotly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Ooh!” Vera cries out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Phil, be honest, you were more than trying it
on,” Rachel says sternly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“OK, yes,” I admit, “I wasn’t just trying it
on.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“You can only try a dress on once,” Rachel
persists, “But that wasn’t the case, now, was it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“No,” I say, “I’ve worn the dress before.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I’m only trying to get all the facts,” Rachel
says in mock defence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“However, I have since discussed this with
Eunice,” I say energetically, “And while all this is embarrassing, I can assure
you that that’s all that there is to it. I have no desire whatsoever to become
a woman. In fact, as far as I am concerned, we can close the subject.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“No, honey,” Eunice says, “We need to talk
things out.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I beg your pardon?” I say, surprised, “I
thought we have.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“It’s not that simple,” Eunice says, smiling
awkwardly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Well, then couldn’t we have at least discussed
it in private?” I say, trying to contain my anger, “Do we really have to do it
like that? How do you think this makes me feel?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Well, how do you think this makes <i>me</i> feel?” my wife says, agitated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Now, now,” Rachel says calmingly, “Let’s not
get too excited here. Phil, I think you may have an oversimplified view of the
matter.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I smile nervously, pace a little bit around the
room and fidget with my fingers as I sum up the courage to meet Rachel’s gaze.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“On the contrary, Rachel,” say with a nervous
smile, trying to contain my rising anger, “I think that it is you who are
blowing things out of proportion here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Rachel draws an annoyed breath and a deathly
silence befalls the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I’m sorry,” I say after a moment, “I didn’t
mean to be rude, but I really think that we are making a big deal out of
something that isn’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“That is what we’re here to find out, aren’t
we?” she replies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I suppose so,” I say. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I’m glad we agree on that,” she says, “I’m
sure that you will also agree we can’t really discuss something we have no real
knowledge about.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Of course not,” I eagerly agree.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Then I think it’s time for you to change into
a dress,” she says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Absolutely not!” I retort.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Why not?” Eunice says dryly, “It’s what you
want, isn’t it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“In private,” he hisses, “Not like this.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Phil?” Rachel says, “We have all taken the
time and effort to help you, and your wife, with the new situation you are
dealing with. Don’t you think you owe us at least some effort from your side?
You said you yourself we can’t discuss what we don’t know. I think we all agree
it will help this intervention if you put on a dress, don’t we?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh, by all means,” Vera says excitedly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Why don’t you just stay out of this?” I snap
back at her, and I instantly know I’ve made a mistake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Her face is sporting a strained smile masking
her anger. Slowly, she gets up, walks towards me and menacingly places both
hands on my shoulders. Propped up by the chunky two inch heels of her cowboy
boots, she stands a full head taller than me. As she has the aggressive
personality to match her physique, she is the informal leader of the group, so
I wonder who is actually behind this intervention. Then again, if it was her
idea, she probably wouldn’t have let anyone else lead it this far, and Rachel
does have the do-good streak in her that makes her meddle in everyone’s lives.
Barbara and Jennifer? They are just along for the ride. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Phil?” she says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Yes?” I reply, fearfully, fully aware that
everyone in the room can see how she frightens me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Be nice,” she says, “We are here to help you.
I know that this must be stressful for you, so I’ll look the other way this
time, but I will not tolerate another such outburst of rudeness. Understood?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Yes,” I whisper, “Sorry, Vera.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“That’s better,” she says, “Now why don’t you
do as Rachel says?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Panicking, I shake my head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Phil?” she smiles, “Don’t make me make you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“That’s enough, Vera,” Rachel says and Vera
sits down again. I feel relieved for a moment, but then she turns to me again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I understand you now have some dresses of your
own?” Rachel says to me..<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Rachel, please?” I stutter, fighting tears,
“I’m a transvestite, not a transsexual. Transsexuals want to become actual
women, but transvestites just wear women’s clothes because it gives them sexual
pleasure.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Be that as it may,” Rachel replies kindly, yet
dismissively, “Won’t you be so kind and change into some women’s clothes so
that we can carry this discussion further? Perhaps that new black and white
polka dot dress? The one with the ruffled collar and the cup sleeves? I
understood from Eunice you liked it a lot.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I can feel the blood drain from my face as she
describes the dress that, until now, I though Eunice had bought for me. Without
another word, I scurry away from the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">As I walk towards the bedroom, I deliberate
whether I should wear just the dress or anything else along with it, and if so,
what exactly, but as I reach my destination I see that the choice had already
been made for me. My dress is neatly laid out on the bed, along with a set of
black silky lingerie, black nylons and my pair of patent white pumps with the
four inch heels.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">After I have changed into the clothes that were
chosen for me, I get the sudden impulse to do my makeup. Although I know my
skills in this department are seriously lacking, I have a quick go. I skip the
eyeliner and blush, but I do apply some foundation, mascara, eyeshadow and
lipstick. Walking out, I take a last look at me in the full length mirror.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">My masculine hairstyle gives me away at the
first glance, but it is not difficult to imagine me as a woman as, below the
neck, the ruffled bodice, the narrow waistline and the flared skirt of my dress
deftly conceal any remaining manly features. My makeup looks rather hastily
applied, but as I make my way back towards the living room, the fact I can
easily walk in my high heeled shoes restores my confidence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"> “Now Phil,”
Rachel says to me as I sits down by my wife, “You’re not really wearing this
dress for sexual pleasure right now, are you?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“No,” I whispers in reply.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Well, then,” Rachel says triumphantly, “That’s
one question already answered.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Rachel, I swear…” I begins to explain in
panic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Shhh,” she silences me softly, “I appreciate
how embarrassing this must be for you.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I nods gratefully.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Which is all the more reason to believe that
there is much more than just sexual gratification behind your desires to dress
like a woman,” Rachel says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Tears are welling up behind my eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I’m only wearing the dress because you told me
to,” I whisper, “Not because I want to become a woman.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Phil,” she smiles, “You owe it to
yourself, and to everyone here today, to explore your desires, and to get to
the bottom of this, don’t you think?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I… I… I guess so,” I stammer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Now, Eunice has been very understanding and
accommodating so far, wouldn’t you agree?” she says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh, yes,” I say.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Then you will also agree that she does not
deserve to be punished for her kindness with a life of secrecy and
uncertainty,” Rachel says kindly, yet decisively.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“What do you mean?” I reply, worriedly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I mean that you can’t keep changing back and
forth whenever it suits you,” Rachel says, “Because it’s not just you that’s
affected by this, but Eunice, too. She deserves stability in her life.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“But, honey,” I turn to Eunice, “We’ve been
through this. I thought you understood…”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Just listen to what Rachel has to say,” she
replies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I’m saying that you should live as a woman
until you figure out what you really want, Phil,” she says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Well, in that case, it’s quite clear,” I say
hastily, “I don’t want any of that. I’m done. Okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“No,” my wife says, “You’ve tried that before,
and look at you now.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“But I can’t…” I stammer, “What about work?
What about our friends and family?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“You better pick a name,” Rachel says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Name?” I dumbly repeat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I don’t suppose you’ll still want to be called
Phil from now on?” Rachel muses.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I.. I..” I stammer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I quite like Melissa,” Vera says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Melissa?” my wife says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Maybe it’s the dress, but he, I mean, she
looks like a Melissa to me,” Vera replies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I’m not sure about that,” my wife says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Luise? Heather? Beatrice?” Vera suggests.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Melissa is fine,” Rachel says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“No!” I say, standing up, “I’m not doing any of
this. I’m sorry, but no! Enough is enough.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Melissa!” Rachel hisses, “We came here today
to offer you a helping hand in your life. If you don’t want that help, fine.
But we’re also here because we love Eunice very much, and we’ll be damned if we
don’t make sure that she’s done right by.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Damn right,” Vera says menacingly, getting up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">A moment of tense silence passes. As I feel
tears trickling down my face, I can’t help to wonder if they’re leaving black
streaks on my cheeks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Honey?” I turn to Eunice, “Can’t we talk this
out?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“But honey,” she replies, mocking my tearful
tone, “We just have.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“May I suggest something?” Vera says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Sure?” Rachel replies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I can see that Melissa is not yet fully
convinced about our decision,” she says, “Why doesn’t she come to stay with me
for a couple of days, until she gets on board with it?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Actually, I was going to offer to stay with
Eunice and Melissa to help them with that precisely,” Rachel replies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I thought you might,” Vera says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Well, it would make more sense that what you’re
suggesting, wouldn’t it?” Rachel says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“No, I don’t think so,” Vera replies, “I think
Eunice could do with some time for herself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I won’t argue with that,” my wife says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“In that case?” Vera says to her, “Would you be
so kind and pack Melissa’s essentials?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Right away,” Eunice says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh, there’s no rush,” Vera says, “Jennifer can
bring them over later on, my place’s on the way to hers. Melissa and I should
best get moving right away.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">She offers me her elbow in a gentlemanly
fashion. Although it’s embarrassing, I take it welcomingly. Suddenly, the
prospect of leaving the house dressed in women’s clothes doesn’t worry me as
much anymore.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Wait,” Rachel says suddenly, “Don’t you maybe
need some help…? With everything…?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“Oh, I’m sure Melissa will be no trouble at
all,” Vera replies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">“I won’t argue with that,” I muse quietly as we
walk towards the front door, accompanied by the clacking of our heels reverberating
down the hallway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Rosiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08251557995803362070noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-27645747232660661462017-05-12T23:19:00.000-07:002017-05-12T23:19:31.969-07:00Relative Interference - A (Very) Short Story - and illustration<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> I haven’t contributed to the blog for quite
some time – a bit shamefaced about that as Dave and Rosie have been keeping it
going between them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">This is a
very short story I’ve posted elsewhere so some readers will have read it
before. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It’s a small
contribution but hopefully readers will enjoy it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Carrie <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Relative
Interference.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 9.0pt; line-height: 115%;">By <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
CarrieP</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’m afraid I have some bad news William.” Mrs Sophia Dearlove
addressed the young man in front of her and patting the seat next to her on the
couch added “please sit down.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The young man immediately knew there was something seriously
wrong as he had never before been invited to sit in his employer’s
presence. He looked nervously at Miss
Grayson the housekeeper and his immediate superior before taking such a
liberty, sitting down in Mrs Dearlove’s company would be deemed quite a serious
<i>faux pas</i> for a member of the domestic
staff. However Miss Grayson nodded her approval but given his position in the
household he was still reluctant to do so.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i> </i></b>“It’s quite all right
William.” the housekeeper reassured him “you may sit next to the
mistress.” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It had now been several months since Mrs Dearlove had first
met him at the orphanage where he had spent the previous six years. She was
attending a charity event and afterwards as he had served her and her glamorous
female companions’ coffee she had engaged him in conversation. He clearly
remembered how he blushed when she remarked how delicate and feminine his
features were, an opinion that was endorsed enthusiastically by her friends.
Miss Parker the orphanage’s matron noticed the group of women talking to the
young man and joined them. Mrs Dearlove quickly established that the young man
would remain in the orphanage’s care for another two years, something the boy
was deeply unhappy about as Miss Parker was a petty tyrant and now that his
education had come to an end she was using him as unpaid labour. He recalled
how his heart raced as Mrs Dearlove asked if he would be interested in a
position in her household. Given Mrs
Dearlove‘s power and influence with the orphanage’s Board of Directors Miss
Parker had to agree when William quickly agreed to her offer. The position was
as a houseboy and despite some initial apprehension by the exclusively female
domestic staff he had been treated reasonably well as the sole male. The work wasn’t too hard and Miss Grayson the
housekeeper was far kinder than Miss Parker, apart from a few misdemeanours for
which he had received a mild punishment he had been very happy. Until now.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With all this coursing through his mind it was with a great
degree of nervousness that William crossed the deeply carpeted floor to join
Mrs Dearlove on the couch.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“William, my mother will be staying with me for a few months
and ....”Mrs Dearlove said softly, almost apologetically “...well....she has
some unusual ideas regarding male domestic servants.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
William looked at his employer with a quizzical look, Mrs
Dearlove took a sip of her tea then continued,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You see she has had several bad experiences in the past
with butlers, footmen etc. and will not employ a male servant. Such is her
aversion that she will not even stay in a house that has a male servant. So you
see my dilemma.....unfortunately I will have to send you back to the
orphanage.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh Madam ...please not that.” the young man pleaded. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’m so sorry William but there is very little I can do
about it.” she answered sympathetically.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Please Madam.” he implored now almost on the verge of tears
at the prospect of being returned to the orphanage, “I’ll keep out of her way,
stay in the kitchen, the garden...anything.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’m afraid that would not make any difference.” she replied
in a regretful voice.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Please...Madam....”he was begging now and slipped off the
couch onto his knees.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Miss Grayson bent down and whispered in her mistress’s ear.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh I don’t think the boy would agree to..... <b><i>that </i></b>Miss
Grayson.” Mrs Dearlove answered her housekeeper, “But...” she hesitated “...
with his features, those wonderful high cheekbones and those beautiful long
eyelashes perhaps he would pass.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
William sensed there
was a suggestion of a lifeline, he would grasp at any straw that was offered as
the very thought of being returned to the orphanage was enough to make him
weep. Anything would be better than <b><i>that.<o:p></o:p></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Stand up dear boy.” Mrs Dearlove said and rising to his
feet both women examined him closely “yes...yes.. if mother is any way
reasonable I think it may be a solution.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Turn around William.” Miss Grayson ordered and he quickly
complied “Yes Madam he certainly has possibilities and I’m sure if he was given
some intensive training perhaps Madam’s mother would be willing to consider the
idea.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
William didn’t know what they were talking about but felt
that whatever it was there was no doubt Mrs Dearlove seemed very enthusiastic
and positive, even Miss Grayson seemed more animated than usual. He sensed
there may be some hope of resolving the issue and while they were engaged in
their conversation William considered his own situation. There were many
advantages to working for Mrs Dearlove, he was treated much better and life in
this house was easier than the orphanage, the food was also better and there
were fewer restrictions. Of course he was still a servant but at least his
uniform of a white jacket and black trousers appeared more casual than that of
a maid’s uniform. In this outfit he imagined he could have been mistaken as a
visitor to the house but no one could mistake a female servant as there was a
strict uniform code for Mrs Dearlove’s female servants , blue or grey dresses
in the morning and a black one in the afternoon with the regulation white apron and cap of
course. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“<b><i>William!” </i></b> are you
listening?” Mrs Dearlove said in an
exasperated voice, interrupting his thoughts. He looked at her blankly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Miss Grayson believes there may be a solution to our little
problem.”Mrs Dearlove informed him as she looked at her housekeeper “ a trifle
unusual but my mother may agree.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“That’s wonderful.” William blurted, barely containing his
excitement “what is it?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“As my mother’s objection is to male domestics, you will be
dressed as a housemaid.” Mrs Dearlove exclaimed, clasping her hands to her
bosom with excitement and smiling at him expectantly. “you have such
delicate.... almost feminine facial characteristics, a little make-up and a
light colour lipstick would work wonders.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“And with the correct foundation garments your figure would
be transformed into a more girlish figure.” Miss Grayson beamed, delighted with
her solution.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
William thought he was hearing things.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“A housemaid?” he repeated incredulously.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“<b><i>Yes</i></b>, <b><i>yes</i></b>” Mrs Dearlove declared in an
exhilarated voice “Isn’t it a wonderful idea? Mother could not possibly
object.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I would have to dress as a....a... housemaid? A... girl?”
he asked still unsure that he had heard her correctly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes of course, it’s the only way we could keep you here.”
Mrs Dearlove replied her voice now losing patience with his questions. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well.....I.....it’s just that...a housemaid....”he
stammered not knowing how to respond to such an outrageous suggestion.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes it is unusual I suppose.” Mrs Dearlove said “but there
is no alternative I’m afraid. I suppose it was too much to ask but I really
thought you were happy here but I <b><i>do</i></b> understand it is not every day
you are asked to dress as a girl. Such a pity I think you would have been a
great addition to the staff. But it is your decision.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So many thoughts were running through his head and he barely
noticed Mrs Dearlove had retreated to the couch looking extremely disappointed.
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“While you are packing Miss Grayson will call a cab to take
you back to the orphanage.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Those last two words sent a shiver down his spine, Miss
Parker the matron would view his return from such a prestigious establishment
as Mrs Dearlove’s as a personal insult
and he knew she would make his life miserable.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I...I...”he spluttered</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes?” Mrs Dearlove said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I.. didn’t mean to... be disrespectful Madam.” he babbled
as he struggled for the words.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes?” Mrs Dearlove repeated her eyebrows arching ever so
slightly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I mean I would like to stay.” he finally blurted.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“As a housemaid?” she said as she elegantly crossed her legs
and fixing him with her large grey eyes added, “ and....wearing the appropriate
uniform?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He looked at Miss Grayson who still held the telephone in
her hands and felt anything would be better than returning in disgrace to Miss
Parker.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes Madam.” he mumbled.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Please speak up boy I can barely hear you.” she said and he
could hear the irritation in her voice, the last thing he wanted was to get her
angry.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes Madam I would like to stay .....as.....your...
housemaid and I will wear the appropriate uniform.” he blurted and as the words
left his mouth he could feel a wave of shame wash over him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Excellent, Mother will be here soon so we had better get
you into your new uniform. Miss Grayson,will you locate something in his size
and meet me in my bedroom.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
William was still in a fog at what he had just agreed to and
mindlessly followed Mrs Dearlove up the staircase to her room. In the months he
had been in her service he had never been in Madam’s bedroom as Miss Grayson
felt it would not be proper to have a male enter the mistress’s bedroom. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Stand by the bed.” she instructed him as she went to the
mahogany tallboy “and take off your clothes.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As he began to slowly remove his shoes Miss Grayson entered
with various items in her arms.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh do hurry William Madam’s mother will be here shortly and
we don’t want her to find we have a male servant in the house.” she said in an
urgent voice and turning to Mrs Dearlove said “I think these will fit him
Madam, they are your former lady’s maid’s uniform, although they may be a
little bit tight.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I’m sure once he is in this his new uniform will fit
wonderfully.” she said returning to the bed and held up a long pale blue satin
corset with long laces dangling from its eyelets.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
William by this time had stripped to his shorts and gasped
as she held it up to his torso, the full implication of agreeing to her
proposal was finally beginning to emerge in all its horrible reality.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i>A corset I have to wear a corset </i></b>he cried to himself.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes dear boy” she said noticing the shocked expression on
his face “I’m afraid wearing restrictive corsetry is among one of the many
sacrifices we ladies have to make to make ourselves presentable.......and now
as part of your new life you too will endure a similar experience. It may seem like torture at first but wearing
such a garment has wonderful benefits, enhancing ones figure and promoting
excellent posture for a girl. There is also a very practical reason for wearing
the corset, to get into your new uniform you will need a little help to shape
your body. And this is the very thing that will achieve the perfect shape.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The boy felt a surge of terror rising up from within but
despite this he knew he had to tread carefully to avoid arousing her ire.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“How long will I have to dress as a maid Madam?” he asked as
diplomatically as he could.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh only for mother’s visit, then you can revert to your
normal uniform.” she answered absentmindedly as she untangled the corset’s laces.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Well, I suppose it
could be worse.</i> he thought, consoling himself that his humiliation would
not last long.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“A few months at the most.” she added as she unravelled the
last knot</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><i>A few months! </i></b> The words
shook him now realising he would have to dress like this for such a lengthy
duration.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Your shorts.” Miss
Grayson snapped, indicating him to remove them and handed him a satin dressing
gown.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“But..I ...you can’t mean.” he spluttered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I am quickly running out of patience, or would you prefer
me to do it.” Miss Grayson said in a tone that left no room for any
misunderstanding of her intentions.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After putting on the dressing gown he quickly slipped down
his shorts, Miss Grayson held up a white satin panelled long legged girdle
against the dressing gown trying to judge his size.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“This should fit.” she said and abruptly handed it to him,
he looked at her blankly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“What are you waiting for?” Miss Grayson said, a slight
irritation in her voice as she commanded him “<b>put it on....now.”</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He turned his back to the women and under cover of his
dressing gown he stepped into the heavy garment, struggling to pull it up. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh dear there’s one of those horrible male bulges Miss
Grayson.” Mrs Dearlove sighed pointing to the offending bump between his legs. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh I’m sure I can fix that.” her housekeeper answered and
without warning she grabbed the top of the boy’s new girdle and to his
astonishment pulled it down leaving his totally exposed, paralysed with a
mixture of shame and fear.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“As I suspected..... nothing
too large.” she said in a contemptuous tone as she viewed his flaccid penis
before snapping “Open your legs boy.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Stunned, he silently and meekly obeyed her instruction and
in an instant she had pulled his member down and tucked it tightly between his
legs.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Now close them tightly and pull up your girdle.” she
ordered, he looked down and saw there was practically no male bulge, any sign
of his manhood had disappeared. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Much better Miss Grayson” Mrs Dearlove said as she ran her
hands over the now smooth and even satin material and slipped it between his
legs and letting her hand linger momentarily she gently rubbed his hidden bulge
which caused him to emit a slight groan. She ignored this and turned her head
to Miss Grayson and added “I would hate
to have any unsightly lumps in case Mother wishes to inspect him.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Perfectly understandable Madam.” Miss Grayson replied.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She released him and nodded to her housekeeper, “Carry on
Miss Grayson.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mrs Dearlove watched as
Miss Grayson sat him at the dressing table and showed him how to roll up
stockings and attach them to the girdle’s garters and after he had finished she
marched him back to her mistress who wrapped the corset around him and as she tugged at the laces he felt his torso
compress causing him to gasp.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes it does have that effect, hold on to the bed post.” Mrs
Dearlove said as she waited for him to grab hold of the bed post before
resuming her task, he groaned once more as she tightened the stays.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh don’t be such a baby.” Miss Grayson said sharply.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Do you know William...” Mrs Dearlove said as she gave a
final jerk to the laces “this is my mother’s corset, she gave it to me when I
was about your age and was going through a tomboy phase. She insisted I wore it
day and night for weeks, she said it would instil a more feminine attitude in
me.”</div>
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She knotted the laces tightly, turned him around and
inspected her handiwork before running her hands over the nipped in waist of
her skirt and said </div>
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“And as you can see it really did work. There is nothing
like a good corset to enhance one’s femininity.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Now my darling boy, how many petticoats would you like to
wear?” she said.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Petticoats?” he answered still trying to recover his
breath. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes I really want you to look your best when Mother arrives.”
she said enthusiastically as Miss Grayson arranged several items on the bed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I... don’t ... I
mean I...”he stammered barely
comprehending what was happening.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes..petticoats.” Mrs Dearlove explained as if talking to a
child “you really will have to look as feminine as possible if you are to
convince my mother your intentions are
honourable.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I think Madeline always wore four under this particular
uniform, Madam” Miss Grayson helpfully pointed out to her mistress referring to
Mrs Dearlove previous lady’s maid. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes, dear Madeline” Mrs Dearlove sighed at the mention of
the name and turning to William said “an excellent lady’s maid I trained her
myself...to a very high standard.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
William had heard the servants speak of Madeline and how
glamorous she always looked and how obedient she behaved.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Is four acceptable to you William?” Mrs Dearlove asked the
bewildered boy who now unable to speak merely nodded. “Excellent , I think the
silk and taffeta ones Miss Grayson, the ones with the deep frilled hems.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In a daze he felt the soft fabric being pulled up his
stockinged legs and watched them as they settled the petticoats over his now
uncomfortably reduced waist, in a matter of moments they had slipped the heavy
duchesse satin black uniform dress over his head and carefully arranged the
skirt over his petticoats. Mrs Dearlove pulled back his longish fair hair into
a knot at the back securing it with hairpins and placed a frilled lace cap on
his head to which she attached more pins to keep it in place. Meanwhile Miss
Grayson was busy slipping his arms into a starched white frilled apron which
she tied in an ornate bow at the back. The youth was still quite disorientated
as Miss Grayson applied some light make up foundation to his face.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Pucker your lips William.” she instructed, meekly he obeyed
as she covered his lips in a delicate shade of pink lipstick, both women stood
back to view the result of their labours.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Madam should really change as I believe your mother is due
to arrive in a few hours.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh! is that the time?” Mrs Dearlove said glancing at the
clock “Yes I suppose I’d better change. Something conservative I think, you
know how Mother is Miss Grayson.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes Madam.” The housekeeper said deferentially. “Perhaps
the grey silk shantung and the pearls Madam’s mother sent from India?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Excellent suggestion!” Mrs Dearlove said “you fetch it and
the boy can begin undressing me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As they were speaking William caught a glimpse of himself in
the large ornate dressing mirror, it took several seconds for him to realise
that <b><i>he</i></b>
was the feminine figure in the formal maid’s uniform staring back. Still not
quite believing his eyes he moved his body ever so slightly and the petticoats
peeking out from under the dress of the girl in the mirror swayed. He was
horrified at the sight but at the same time could not take his eyes away from
it. So mesmerised by the reflection he did not notice that both women had
stopped talking.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I see your new maid is quite taken with her new uniform
Madam.” Miss Grayson laughed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes he does seem to like it.” Mrs Dearlove agreed as she and
Miss Grayson approached him, “I find that pretty boys are no different from
girls Miss Grayson. Put them in a delightful dress and they behave just like a
girl. Isn’t that so William?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The boy hung his head in shame, this was the most
humiliating experience of his short life. Miss Grayson began fussing with the
skirt of his uniform.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You were correct Madam he has made the transition from
houseboy to housemaid quite easily.” she said “once he is trained properly he
will make a wonderful addition to the staff. Madam’s mother will barely
notice.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh dear just look at the time Mother will be here shortly
I’d better hurry. William you may as well begin your duties now, unzip me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The boy just stared at her blankly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh I see your confusion you thought you would be put to
work as a house or parlour maid. Well Miss Grayson and I have been discussing
that and I think that as you are dressed in a lady’s maid’s uniform you may as
well be trained as a lady’s maid. Of course when my friends come for morning
coffee or afternoon tea we will have you in attendance, my friends simply adore
pretty servant girls. Now do hurry up ....like a good boy.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She turned her back to him as Miss Grayson busied herself in
her mistress’s closet retrieving her change of dress. William in his new three
inch heels minced his way across the room and began unzipping her dress. She
pulled it down over her breasts and it slid to the floor leaving her standing
in her pale blue satin slip. She stepped from the dress and looked at him
quizzically.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Well don’t just stand there.” Mrs Dearlove said as if
speaking to a five year old “you are a maid.... pick it up and lay it on the
bed, then fetch me a steel grey slip from the tallboy, the third drawer down. Oh
dear you really are slow so I will remove my slip this time. Now run along and
try to be quick I haven’t all day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Miss Grayson returned with a beautiful grey silk shantung
silk creation and laid it on the bed.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes he is a bit slow Madam.”Miss Grayson said as she helped
her mistress with her slip “and rather ungainly but once we get him trained
properly I’m sure he will make an excellent servant girl.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Yes and hopefully Mother will approve.” Mrs Dearlove said
as they both watched her new male maid return with her slip.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>“Approve of what
exactly my dear!” </b>A voice boomed from the door as its owner looked at the
uniformed maid and as she sailed gracefully into the room she added “you never
told me you engaged a new lady’s maid....and such a pretty one. Come here girl
and let me have a look at you.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“<b>Mother! </b>How
delightful to see you.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
William felt his knees weaken.</div>
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Carrie Phttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16356755446225712759noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6444180381501478270.post-23033630698614662962017-04-08T19:00:00.000-07:002017-04-08T19:00:39.282-07:00Swiss Miss Sissy, Chapter 37<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
This is the last chapter of Swiss Miss Sissy. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
That is to say, this is the last finished chapter and I'm afraid that it's likely to be the last chapter for some time. Now that I know Bambi is just busy and not dead, I have a little more hope that Swiss Miss Sissy might be completed someday, but all signs point to it being a long wait. I hope readers will find this chapter, as I do, a reasonably satisfying place to leave the characters for now. There are still plot threads left unresolved, but at least there's no big, exasperating cliffhanger. It's worth noting that this continuation is currently over five times longer than the story Bea originally began. I'll bet Bea never dreamed his story might eventually be expanded into something novel-length. I'd say Bambi has earned the right to take as long as he needs to with his writing process and is to be complimented on doing a really bang up job with this story.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
by Bambi</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Chapter 37: </span></b><i><span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">An
unexpected party. Cheryl gets to celebrate a special someone’s birthday.</span></i><span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“What took you so long?” Mistress asked
sternly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Sorry Mutter. Brigitt had made things...
difficult.” I heard Martina say. Brigitt drew a face like she had just bit in a
lemon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Difficult? What does that mean? Wait,
don't answer that. I'll talk to Brigitt myself later. Is Cheryl all right?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Oh, she is. A bit intimidated, as she should
be. But it allowed us to doll her up a bit.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Ingrid chuckled. “Oh, I'll bet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Ingrid...” Mistress admonished. “Well,
where is she?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Cheryl, come in dear,” Martina called.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Showtime,” Brigitt whispered behind me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I straightened my back, pushed my breasts
forward, puckered my lips, put my elbows in my sides and glanced at Brigitt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She gave me a smile and opened the door for
me. With tiny steps I minced into the room. My towering 5 inch heels gently
tapped on the carpet as I stepped up to Mistress. My skirt ruffled as I
excessively wiggled my hips with each step.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Mistress was sitting in her plush chair.
She was wearing a dark blue suit with a loose skirt that fell over her knees,
but with a high split at a side that allowed me a quick view of her fabulous
thighs. Her jacket had white trimming, that complemented her beige blouse. She was wearing two
distinguished black pumps with moderate heels.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Her appearance was stern, but she couldn't
hide the smile that grew on her face as she saw me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I took my position in front of her so she
could get a good look of my outfit. It was reminiscent of a teen's outfit.
Separate skirt and pink blouse, but clearly intended for a sissy. My white
skirt was not excessively short, but definitely not suitable for a sixteen-year-old.
Lace of my panties peeked out from below my petticoats. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">My blouse was a cut almost down to my
navel, so my boobs peeked out prominently, with mostly just the white bra
covering them. Even my white waist corset was visible. Blouse was closed at my
tummy, with a broad ribbon tied in a small bow in front, and a large bow on my
back. The bra and corset were made from shiny but very uncomfortable leather, I
might add. The blouse has short sleeves, but was very puffy at the shoulders.
Gloves in the same colour covered everything from the elbow down. Bright white
stockings covered my legs, and on my feet were in white patent leather Mary
Janes with horrible 5 inch stilettos and ornamental leather bows on top. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Martina had changed my hairdo, since she
thought that my maid's haircut was unsuited for this outfit. She had untied and
retied my hair, painfully using a brush to break the shapes previously achieved
with the lacquer. She had tied it in a puffy ponytail, with curly bangs falling
down at the front and sides of my face. With a herculean effort, she had given
me a girl’s hairdo that complemented my current 'little sister' appearance. A
big pink bow kept my ponytail together. I also wore some subtle jewelry. A
bracelet around my right wrist, a chain with zirconia around my left ankle, and
a loose shiny necklace around my neck, with a pendant that said 'sissy
slave'. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Glee radiated from Mistress' face. She was
clearly very happy with my appearance. Still, she is a Mistress and I'm a
sissy, so she hid it with a stern expression. Waiting for me to show the proper
gestures of respect.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I did not bob a curtsey. It was expected, I
know, but Brigitt and Martina had decided something else was appropriate.
Mistress raised her eyebrow in surprise. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Pretty little sissy...” I started to sing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Ingrid started to laugh, then clap to the
rhythm of my heels. Brigitt and Martina fell in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I pattered around in front of Mistress,
turned my back to her and bent forward, giving her a good look at my panties.
“Mincing all about...” I looked over my shoulder, winking at her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Here comes your Mistress...” I cupped my
hand behind my ear, like I was listening to something.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“And makes you cry out loud...” My hands
went to the sides of my cheeks as I put up a hilariously scared face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Out come two dildos...” I put my gloved
finger against my lips.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“She puts one in your mouth...” I put my
finger in, sucking it seductively, tasting the satin of my glove.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";"> “And
when you are nice and quiet...” I lifted my skirt and turned around.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“She'll put one there down south.” I bent
forward, showing that I was not wearing a plug right now. Accessible. Then I
turned around again, straightened myself, then dropped a deep curtsey, not
coming up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I was looking at the floor, but from the
edge of my vision I saw Mistress smiling. Her daughters were chattering in
Italian.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She left me in that position, and I felt
the strain of my awkward posture. “Stand up, Cheryl.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I got up, but I didn't assume my regular
posture, but a more elaborate and girly one. I was turned about forty-five
degrees, so Mistress could see my appearance in profile. I was bent slightly
forward, so my bottom pointed upwards while my boobs were aimed forward. My
head was turned towards Mistress, lips slightly parted invitingly. It wasn't a
relaxed stance, but one I could maintain for some time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Mistress was silent for quite a while, but
her smile never left her face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“What is your name, dear?” She finally
asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“My name is Cheryl Rosatunte, Mistress.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Not Charles?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“No Mistress. Charles is a <i>man's</i> name. I'm not a man. I'm a <i>sissy</i>. I love wearing skirts and heels.
I want to act completely feminine and submissive. A sissy needs to be fully
controlled by a strict Mistress, whose every wish or command she must fulfill.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I was laying it on thick, I know. But I do
not know if it was my strong feelings for Mistress, the fact I still had no
sexual release, or that I had just been softened up by hours of inescapable
bondage, but right then I meant every single word of it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Ingrid and Brigitt laughed. Martina
chuckled as she whispered something to Madame Directrice. Mistress just smiled,
but kept her face stern.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Cheryl, Esther told us about your...
Situation.” The tapped the armrest of her seat. “Quite the change, I must say.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Yes Mistress. But I'm very happy I did. I
did not need all that male stuff. I just want to mince around in heels and cute
dresses. Look all pretty for my Mistress, serve and please her in whatever way
she wants.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Is that so?” She said, leaning forward,
elbows on her knees, hands folded. “Don't you think you are being very selfish,
young lady?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">That was a question I did not expect.
“Mistress, I do not understand.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“You changed your name, your whole life, to
be my sissy. Not <i>once</i> did you ask me
if this is what <i>I</i> would want. This is
quite something for me too, my dear. Put a lot of pressure and responsibilities
on me. Never wondered if I would not want that? Instead you just went ahead and
did it, expecting me to take you in. Do you think that is reasonable? That it
is <i>fair</i>?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I was shocked. She was right! I had
followed Madame Directrice's directions, but never did I stop to think if
Mistress would go along with the plan. Was Madame Directrice wrong? Did
Mistress... not love me? I turned pale.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“No Mistress... I am sorry... I just... I
mean...” I could only say. “Please don't make me leave...” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She didn't say anything. Everyone else was
silent too. Ingrid stared at her mother. Brigitt was looking at me, concern on
her face. Madame Directrice's face was a blank. Fear went through me. I had
difficulty keeping my pose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Ask me,” she finally said. “Ask your
Mistress nicely to be her sissy. Ask me to dress you the most ridiculously
frilly outfits, the highest heels. To fill you with plugs and dildos and whatever
I can fit in your little hole. Ask me to humiliate, bind you and punish you
whenever and where-ever I wish.” She pointed her finger at me. “And Cheryl, ask
me as a proper sissy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I do not know how I managed, but my stance
became even more submissive, more sissy like. I spoke in my most exquisite
voice; feminine, but sounding like an air-headed idiot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Mistress Christina, please make me your
sissy and make me dress in the most frilly outfits that make me weep with
humiliation. Please put me in heels that I can barely walk in, that make me
mince and patter for Mistress' pleasure. A good sissy loves the feeling of
having her sissy hole filled, so please fill me with dildos and plugs to remind
me I'm a pretty little sissy. And let me serve you, I'll be your maid, your
plaything who you can humiliate and tie up as you please. And if I displease
you in any way, I ask you to punish me severely so I can improve myself.” I
would regret this, I thought. She would do things to me, things I would loathe,
and here I was asking her for it. Begging her for it. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">But I didn't care. I wanted her to be my
Mistress. If that meant I had to be her submissive, ultra-feminine sissy, then
so be it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She looked me straight in the eyes.
“Cheryl, I told you to ask me as a proper <i>sissy.</i>”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I gulped. What did she mean by that? I was
dressed as one. I had performed a humiliating song and dance. Curtsied. Asked
in my most girly voice. What more did she want?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She smiled, then picked up a small box from
the table next to her, put it on her lap. “Cheryl. Do you know what today is?”
She asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I tried to think, but my mind was blank.
“I... I do not know Mistress.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Why, today is a birthday. You know whose?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I was stunned. It certainly wasn't
Mistress’, and Brigitt's birthday was not for two more months. Martina's and
Ingrid's were even later. I saw that Madame Directrice was smiling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Er... Madame Directrice's, Mistress?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She chuckled. “No silly. Yours! Today is
your birthday.” The other women smiled at me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Mistress? Today is not...” I started.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Are you not Cheryl Rosatunte?” she asked
sternly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“I am, Mistress.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Then today is your birthday. Esther?” she
said as she turned to Madame Directrice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Madame Directrice took of her glasses as
she started talking. “Cheryl, I didn't use Charles' birth date in your
documentation. I kept the year, but changed the day and month. Those little
details are important when creating a completely new person. Your birth
certificate shows that you were born today, twenty years ago.” She smiled. “Today
has always been your birthday. And you never even told us, you naughty girl.
Why, I had to dig up your Swiss birth certificate just to find out!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">The women laughed. I felt terribly
confused, and that caused even more amusement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Mistress opened the box, and took out an
item. “You know what this is, Cheryl?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I gulped. “It's my lollipop, Mistress.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Indeed. The very same one you took in your
mouth the day you first came here. On my birthday. Such a great present you
were.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She put the box away, but pointed the dildo
at me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“On my birthday, I asked you to put it in
your mouth, and with that I accepted you as my maid. Now today, on <i>your</i> birthday, I want <i>you</i> to ask <i>me</i> to put it inside your mouth. If you do, I will accept you as
Cheryl Rosatunte, my sissy. Permanently. I will be a stern Mistress. Strict. I
will put you in outfits that will make you cry with humiliation. I will spank
you just to hear the musical clicking of your heels as you try to flee. I will
use dildos that make you squeal in agony and delight. And when you can take no
more, I will tie you up and do it all over again.” She smiled at me. It was a
vicious smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I like to think I hesitated. That male
pride shouted inside me not to continue, that there was still a way out. Here,
now. Just say no. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Mistress, would you please put my lollipop
in my mouth. Please make me your sissy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Come here, birthday girl. You know what to
do.” She held up the dildo.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I minced four steps forward, until my mouth
was right before the tip. I kept my sissy stance. Legs straight, torso bent
forward slightly. Elbows at my sides, wrists limp. I puckered my red lips.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I stuck my tongue out and ran its tip
gently along the underside. Next I closed my red lips and gave it a nice kiss.
I opened my eyes. Mistress wouldn't want me missing anything. I gave it another
kiss. I opened my mouth, so that I could suck on my lollipop. Mistress pushed
it in a little further.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">And, standing there in front of my
Mistress, sucking on an obscene ivory penis, I realized that Ingrid was moving
a video camera that I hadn't noticed before. Brigit was making flash photos.
She said “Bet these will look great with her other pictures,” and everybody
laughed mockingly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Then the daughters all started singing and
clapping to the tune of 'Happy Birthday'. “Zum geburstag viel gluck, Zum
geburstag viel gluck, Zum geburstag liebe <i>Cheryl</i>,
Zum geburstag......” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">As I expected the dildo was being stuffed
deeper and deeper into my mouth, and I had to correct my breathing accordingly.
Mistress certainly made me work for it. The harder I sucked, the more she would
pull it back out. But I was a sissy, so I knew to continue sucking it, cheeks
moving in and out rapidly.<br />
<br />
Mistress beamed at her daughters. “What a lovely obedient girl this little Miss
Rosatunte. I say, I have never seen a sissy as cute and well behaved as her.
What do you say girls, shall we make her a permanent part of our household? It
is her birthday after all.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";"><br />
“Absolutely, Mutter!” The girls chorused. “Make her yours. Then make her do anything
you want.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";"><br />
Still sucking on my lollipop, which she continued to hold, she pulled me
forward, towards her chair. She got up, pulled me past her and onto the chair.
My knees were on the cushion, heels pointing over the edge. My arms rested on
the back of the seat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Madame Directrice produced a pair of
handcuffs, and in a quick movement snapped them shut around my wrists. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Hold this, use both hands” Mistress said,
putting my cuffed hands up to the dildo. “Eyes front, Cheryl! No peeking. Don’t
stop sucking though.” I nodded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Brigitt, help me with this...,” I heard
Mistress say.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I heard the clinging of buckles. I knew
what came next.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Mistress took position behind me. Ingrid
repositioned the camera again, I was looking right as it. “Smile sissy,” she
said. “Show the camera how happy you are.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I smiled. Smiled when I felt Mistress pull
down my panties and apply lubricant on my behind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She reached around me grabbing my boobs,
causing me to moan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Surprised, Mistress pinched me in the
nipple, which made me squeal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“What is this?” She asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Brigitt smiled. “We replaced them with the
ones Margot uses. You know, with the nipple clamps underneath? Her fake breasts
are almost as sensitive as real ones.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“I love them,” Mistress said as she tickled
my nipples. I would have gasped if I didn't have a dildo in my mouth. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She kissed me on my neck. “Girls, I am
happy to say that I decided to allow little miss Rosatunte to remain with us. I
will look forward to seeing her cute ass mince around the villa.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">The other women cheered and applauded. Even
Madame Directrice joined in. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Now, shall I give the newest member of our
merry little clan her first birthday present?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">The women cheered again. Mistress placed
the tip of her strapon against my sissy-hole. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Time make it official, my dear,” she
whispered in my ear. She turned to her daughters. “Girls?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">They sang merrily in chorus, hands clapping
“Pretty little sissy, was mincing all about.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">And Mistress entered me. It was big, but I
had learned how to relax as filled me, took be from behind. I focused on
sucking my lollipop.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Here comes your Mistress, and makes you
cry out loud.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She started pumping, holding and teasing my
delicate breasts through my bra.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Out come two dildos, she puts one in your
mouth.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She forced me to move with her motions,
still teasing my breasts. My clitty was already quite hard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Moan louder, sissy, let the camera know
how much you are enjoying yourself,” I heard Ingrid say.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“And when you are nice and quiet,” the
other women sang.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I felt my feet shake as Mistress pumped me.
I felt her tongue in my ear, bite my neck. All of today's pent up sexual energy
was about to find release.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“She'll put one there down south!” The
women practically shouted. And with a deep thrust, Mistress made me come.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I came on my petticoats, and even on the
chair. But no-one seemed to mind. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Mistress whispered in my ear. “You are
mine, sissy. Now and forever.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Tears filled my eyes. Out of happiness,
lust or shame, I do not know. All of them, I suppose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Aww, sissy is getting all emotional.”
Brigitt mocked. “Keep sucking! No idling.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Madame Directrice handed something to
Mistress.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“And here is your second birthday present,
Cheryl,” Mistress said as she placed the collar around me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Get the mirror,” Mistress spoke as she
withdrew from me. “You can take it out, my dear.” She took my lollipop from me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Martina held up a mirror, showing me my
reflection. I saw the familiar girl looking back at me. Her lipstick was
smudged, her silly outfit ruffled, but then I noticed the metal collar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">It was a solid metal ring. The shiny metal
felt cool against my skin. There were small D-rings along its circumference,
and something that was probably a lock at my neck. But it was the ornament at
my throat that drew my eyes. It was the shape of a shield, bright blue. On that
surface was the constellation of Orion in silver. Mistress' family heraldry. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">My fingers went up to the blue shield. She
had marked me as hers. I wanted to laugh, weep. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Wear it proudly, my sweet.” Mistress said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Yes Mistress, I will.” I answered softly
as I stroked the small ornament. The other women burst into applause.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">**********<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Of course, the evening didn't end then and
there. The ladies made an informal party out of it, with me the guest of honour.
Martina brought some snacks and several bottles of expensive liquor. Ingrid
used a wet cloth to clean the chair. I turned red as a beet as she cleaned my
clitty next, laughing. Brigitt made a careful selection from their music
collection before turning on the stereo. I was not expected to do anything but
relax, look pretty and be girly.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">That wasn't difficult. Mistress had pulled
me onto her lap and was kissing and fondling me, mostly teasing my newly
sensitive breasts, but also my hole and clitty. She would allow me to get
excited, but not find release, keeping me on edge again.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She was very gentle though, and my oohs,
ahhs and calls of 'ooh, Mistress!' were very genuine. Mistress was
sweet-talking to me, telling me I looked wonderful and that my performance was
excellent. This made me blush, and I blushed even more when I told her at
length how glad I was to be a sissy.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Every now and then, she would grab me by
the neck and push my head down towards her strap-on, making me suck it again
while she sipped her brandy. She had not taken it off since Brigitt had helped
her into it, but I was glad that in the meantime she had it cleaned!</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">The other women were drinking and laughing
while exchanging gossip in German. Occasionally Mistress joined in, but the
ladies mostly ignored me in their chatter.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Of course, once in a while I would suddenly
be the centre of attention, the three daughters grinning at me maliciously. The
ladies would then make me sing “Pretty little sissy” again, or shout comments
and criticism on my cocksucking technique. At one point Madame Directrice would
tell some funny stories from Cheryl Rosatunte's colourful past. This caused
some hilarity and the ladies to ask me what I was thinking at the time! That
certainly confused me, as I wasn't the one who made up that history. Then
again, <i>I</i> was Cheryl Rosatunte, and my
current past seemed much more real now than my previous one. I just stammered
something about not knowing what I was doing at the time.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Don't worry Cheryl. We'll be telling you
what to do from now on.” Ingrid said with a grin. “You just have to look good
while doing it.”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I didn't know if the women were supposed to
be working tomorrow, but quite a few drinks were being consumed. The ladies
insisted I would join them.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Thank you, Miss Martina, but may I have a
soda instead? Brandy is a bit too strong for me.” I never was much of an
alcohol drinker to begin with, and with all the weight I had lost I doubted I
could cope with more than a glass or two.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Nonsense. This is a party, and we can't
let the guest of honour leave without at least getting her tipsy.”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“You can suck it from a dildo if that would
make it more palatable,” Ingrid smirked.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Don't tease our lovely little sissy,
Ingrid” Mistress intervened. “But have a brandy, my dear. I insist. You cannot
have a party without alcohol.” </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">And with that settled, Martina poured me a
brandy. Mistress clinked my glass and had me sip my drink as her free hand went
over me. Brandy is an acquired taste, very sharp, but I was quite enjoying it
before I had finished my first glass. Martina smiled as she poured me another.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">The conversation shifted towards the merits
of various forms of bondage, ways to discipline wayward sissies, and what would
humiliate them the most. My expert opinion was consulted several times.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Margot showed me these,” Brigitt said,
producing a pair of metal rings “They are perfect for Cheryl here. Much more
handy that handcuffs. More fashionable too.”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“How so?” Madame Directrice asked.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Mutter, may I borrow Cheryl for a moment?
Thank you. Come here, girl.” I minced over to Brigitt, flush with a alcohol and
anxiety.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Hold out your hands, sissy. Very good. Now
ladies, to open them you need a key, and then just close them around the wrists
of our unfortunate damsel-in-distress.” Brigitt winked at me maliciously, then
turned towards the others. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Using them is very simple,” Brigitt told
them. “They may look like ordinary cuffs, but see these decorations?” Brigitt
made me extend hands so the other women could clearly see the bracelets around
my writs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“These are actually snap-locks. Push them
against one another...” She held my wrists and pushed the cuffs against each
other. I heard a click.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“...And they will snap shut, binding our
little Cheryl here. Go ahead sissy, pull them apart.” She let go of my wrists,
which were crossed in front of me. I tried to pull my arms apart, but the cuffs
resisted. I pulled harder, but aside from hearing some metallic sounds, nothing
happened. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“You do not need a key to open them, either.
Just push both these two buttons on both cuffs.” She looked right at me.
“Something quite impossible for our naughty little sissy to do herself.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She used thumb and index finger of both
hands to push the buttons. With another click, my wrists came loose. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Seems that little Cheryl will have to be
careful not to accidentally bind herself,” Ingrid mocked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Accidentally? I fear sissy here will start
to chain herself up on purpose. Don't you know girls like her love that sort of
thing?” Martina countered. They all laughed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Anyway,” Brigitt continued. “You see there
are several such locks around their circumferences, and will fix in any
orientation. For example...” She grabbed my arms and turned me around, causing
me to give a startled shriek. She pulled my wrists behind me crosswise and
snapped them together. Brigitt's audience mumbled in approval.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“But you could also connect them like
this...” She pulled my wrists apart and then my arms parallel, clicking the
undersides of the cuffs against one another. My arms were now locked behind me
like in an armbinder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Or like this...” I resigned myself with
Brigitt binding me again. This time with lower arms parallel, in opposite
direction to one another, so my hands were halfway up my back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Or any way you want, really.” She finally
said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Without bothering to untie me, she tugged
my shoulders and twirled me around. I squealed as I lost my balance and tipped
over, but Brigitt put her arm around my waist and pulled me against her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Applause for my lovely assistant, little
miss Cheryl Rosatunte,” Brigitt said smiling as she pulled me upright. The
other ladies clapped her hands and cheered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She let go of me and said to me “Thank your
audience, girl.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Mistress observed me closely. I knew what
was expected of me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I bobbed a curtsey, which is very difficult
with your arms tied behind you, let me assure you. “Thank you all for you kind
applause. It was my pleasure to perform for you,” I said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Mistress smiled. “You are very welcome, my
dear. Come sit with me.” She patted her lap.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">The party continued much as it had
already. With her daughters chatting
amongst themselves, and Mistress fondling and caressing me. Still with my arms
behind tied behind my back, though. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I was getting quite tipsy as Mistress fed
me the last of my brandy. And I was not the only one. Mistress had some quite
some herself, and for her the evening was coming to an end.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Girls,” Mistress said, “It is late. Cheryl
and I will be retiring for the night.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Just retiring?” Brigitt teased.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Watch your tongue, my dear.” Her voice was
authoritarian, but her smile spoke volumes. “Feel free to continue as long as
you want though. Good night.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Good night Mutter,” Martina said, then
giggled. “I hope you – ahem - <i>sleep</i>
well, Cheryl.” Ingrid and Brigitt laughed, then wished us good night too.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I performed a curtsey for the ladies, the
combination of alcohol, heels and bonds making it less than perfect. They found
that very amusing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Looks like little miss Rosatunte is a bit
tipsy. I bet she'll trip before she's up the stairs.” Ingrid gibed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“She will most definitely not,” Mistress
said sternly, to both me and Ingrid. She produced a leash. “Cheryl is a proper
sissy, and she will not disgrace me with such clumsiness. Isn't that right,
Cheryl?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Yes, Mistress,” I said with pride,
straightening myself into a prim and proper posture. As much as possible in my
bonds, anyway. How dare Ingrid assume I would disappoint Mistress like that?
Did she think that little of me? I assume the alcohol had somehow made me
forget I was a sissy, dressed in a demeaning outfit, who had been the centre of
ridicule for much of the evening.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Mistress attached the leash to my new
collar and gave it a tug. I had some trouble with my balance, but managed to
follow her lead submissively.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Very well. We are off. Don't stay too
long, dears. It is almost midnight,” Mistress said as she guided me towards the
door.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Wait, that means it is still Cheryl's
birthday,” Martina said. “Let's give our Swiss miss sissy a proper Swiss
goodbye, ladies.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Martina, Ingrid, Brigitt and Madame
Directrice joined in song and clapping.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";"> “Zum
geburstag viel gluck, Zum geburstag viel gluck, Zum geburstag liebe Cheryl, Zum
geburstag......” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">They were still singing as Mistress led me
out of the room and up the stairs towards her room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">************<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I followed submissively – I could do little
else – as Mistress pulled my leash and guided me into her room. She sat me down
on her bed and unclipped the leash. She didn't unlock my cuffs, though.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She drifted around the room slowly
undressing. First her jacket, then her skirt (not easy with the strapon still
underneath). Next came her blouse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Cheryl, would you help me with my bra? Oh
right, never mind. You are all tied up at the moment, aren't you?” She chuckled.
Guess that joke never got old.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Yes Mistress, it seems I am. My apologies.
But if you would untie me...” I tried.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“That can wait,” she said. “Don't worry, I
do not really need your help anyway.” She unhooked her bra. “No peeking, my
dear. Close your eyes.”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I did. I heard her strip to her undies,
taking the strapon off as I heard the harness thud as she dropped it on her
dresser. Then she took of her panties, I am sure. I may then have accidentally
blinked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Cheryl!
If I see you peeking one more time, you will wear a blindfold until
morning! Understand, naughty girl?”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She accepted my hasty but elaborate
apology.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She moved about the room. Picking a piece
of clothing from one dresser, than another one from a closet. She took her time
putting them on, and I felt like the very air was being charged.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">When she was done, I heard her take place
behind her vanity mirror, taking off her jewelry and letting her hair loose.
With a brush she stroked it again and again, until I heard her fix it in place
with what I assumed were hair clips.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She wiped her face, probably removing her
make-up, but I also heard her touch it up here and there.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“You may open your eyes, honey.” She
finally said.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">It was amazing to see a woman over forty
with such a body. Lean, but perfectly rounded in the right places. Long hair
falling over her right shoulder. Nothing
artificial about her. Truly a piece of art only nature itself can make. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She had framed that piece of art with a
black bra and panties, which I saw were made of leather. Her waist was inside a
matching corset, red lining giving striking contrast to the black satin, from
which suspender straps held up stockings. Black patent leather pumps with four
inch heels completed the ensemble.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I felt tongue tied, I couldn't help saying
something. “You are beautiful, Mistress,” was the best I could come up with.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Thank you, my dear,” she said with a warm
smile. “Now, let's get that silly jacket and skirt off you, shall we? Stand
up.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I got on my heels, and she untied the small
bow at my tummy. She pulled slowly on the silk until the knot came undone. She
then reached around me to untie the larger bow at my back, looking deep into my
eyes as she did. When the other knot was loose, she pulled back on the ribbons
that Martina had wrapped around and around to make up the bows. Like silk
serpents they twisted around my waist until they were off and Mistress held
them up like some banner before letting them flutter to the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She undid my jacket's only button, opening
it to the sides and from my shoulders. I was still cuffed, so my arms were
still in the sleeves, but she left it at that. I sighed as she stroked the
nipples of my fake boobs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“You are as sensitive as a real girl,
Cheryl” she simply said. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">My mind must have melted under her touch.
“Yes, Christina,” I replied inadvertently. I gasped as I realized what I had
just said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She gave me a warning look. Stern, but not
unkind. She put her hand below my chin and tilted it back, forcing me to look
right in her eyes “Mistress,” she said. “I am your Mistress, Cheryl. Forever
and always. And you will address me as such. However, this is a special evening
and you deserve the right to speak my given name. So just for tonight you may
call me Mistress Christina.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She sniggered. “But how should I call you
now? Little miss Rosatunte?” She reached around me to unzip my skirt and pulled
it down.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Cheryl is fine, Mistress Christina.” I
said sighing as I felt her hands running down my legs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Not tonight, my dear.” She gently turned
me around, blowing softly in my ear. “You'd call a maid by her first name only.
But today I accepted you as a true sissy in my household. You should cherish
that position. Rejoice in your title. Tonight I will call you '<i>sissy</i> Cheryl'.” She put a lot of
emphasis on the first word.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I couldn't quite follow that logic, and I
wasn't sure if she was mocking me. As
far as I was concerned 'sissy' is not a compliment. But I wasn't about to
argue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She finally unlocked my cuffs, but held my
arms tight for a moment. Then she pulled the jacket off entirely. She unwrapped
the pink bow around my ponytail and then fluffed my loose hairdo a bit. She
gently turned me around.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Her bright eyes scanned me from top to
bottom, stopping at my bra, panties and heels. She smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“All in white. Just like out first night
together, no?” she wiped a loose lock of hair out of my face. “Only, you are no
longer a virgin. I already took your cherry.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I blushed. “Yes, Mistress Christina. I am
sorry, but Miss Brigitt insisted on it.”</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Don't worry, my dear. You look good in
white. Besides, only men are obsessed with virgins. Women like their partners
to have some experience. Sissies too.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She stepped closer. She put her hands on my
breasts, stroking them. I felt the lightest touch transmit through the material
to my over-sensitive real ones. I gasped. I desperately wanted to put my hands
on her, but kept them at my sides. She would determine when I was to touch her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“You have gained some experience by now,
haven't you, <i>sissy</i> Cheryl?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Yes, Mistress Christina. You have trained
me well, and I have had a lot of practice.” That was true, up to a point. In
another life I had my fair share of sexual encounters, but nothing compared to
what has happened the last few months. At this rate, I would have had more sex
as a girl than I could have ever hoped to have as a man before the year was
out. I didn't dare linger on the fact that nowadays I was always the receiving
party.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Time to show me what you have learned,”
she spoke as she sat me down on the bed, then walked over to the dresser to
pick up the strapon.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Lay down on the bed, <i>sissy</i> Cheryl. Your Mistress is going to give you the ride of your
life,” she said as she fastened the straps of the harness around her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Shouldn't I take my heels off first, Mistress
Christina?” I said hesitantly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Of course not, silly girl.” She said
without looking up. “I'm not taking mine off either. Sex is better with heels
on. It makes women feel more sexy, taller and empowered. It makes sissies more
sexy too, hobbled and vulnerable. Now do as I say.” She finished adjusting the
strapon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I lay down on my back, and Mistress
Christina sat down next to me. Her right hand stroking my breasts through my
bra, then running down past my corset and to my clitty. I gasped.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Do you want me to take my clothes off,
Mistress Christina?” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“No, <i>sissy</i>
Cheryl. I want you to kiss me.” She said as she put her tongue in my mouth. I
received it with a moan as I felt her hands dance over my body.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">*********<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I was already awake when the sun came up. I
had slept, for sure. I was very tired afterwards. So was Mistress, who was
still asleep, her arm around my naked body. I had lost most of my undies during
the night. I only wore my heels and stockings now. So did Mistress, who had
even taken the strapon off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">A ray of sunshine sneaked between the
curtains and fell on the floor, illuminating the vibrator we had used only
hours before. Other items were there as
well. A blindfold. Crop. Ballgag. Everything that was in the nightstand had
found its way to the floor eventually. Through me, mostly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">When she was done, Mistress was sweating.
She had given it her all for hours. One moment making me moan and squeal with
whatever she was holding, the next having me make her groan and grunt as I
worked furiously to please her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Now do not get me wrong, there was no
equality. She gave and I received. Everything I wanted to give to her, she <i>took</i> from me instead. When I teased her
breasts, it was with her hands around my wrists holding them there. When I licked
her, she was pushing my head down forcefully and slapping me hard if my tongue
slackened. I entered her only because <i>she</i>
sat her crotch down on me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She had me dancing to her tune, however. I
sweet talked, squealed, moved, kicked my legs, and blushed just the way she
liked it, brooking no reluctance or failing. She was... forceful... every time
she found me wanting, occasionally locking my cuffs and the crop was not for
show. Nevertheless, she had made me come. Several times even. Some of the cum
found its way back into my mouth or hole. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Yes, she pulled my strings with the grace
and skill of a master puppeteer performing with a pretty doll. Not because she simply could or to assert her
dominance over me, but to make me <i>feel</i>
it. She searched and probed me for the act that would make me moan and weep
with embarrassed delight. I got a glimpse of the joy and pleasure of my
humiliation and submission, the feelings of male ego, broken pride and dread
silenced for the briefest of moments. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Mistress mumbled something as I moved her
hand away and got up. I blushed as I felt a sting of embarrassment as I saw all
the female sex toys that I both loved and loathed and had perhaps paid for
myself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I was already halfway dressed when she woke
up. “Cheryl?” she said groggily.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">I bobbed a curtsy. “Good morning,
Mistress,” I said properly, not speaking her name. Perhaps I was her lover mere
hours ago, but with the sunrise I was her maid again. I had to play the part.
“I am sorry to awaken you, but I need to hurry, as it appears I'm already late
for my shift. And it seems you have missed breakfast. Would you like me to ask
Frau Seiler to bring some to your room?” I asked perkily.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She sat upright, smiling contentedly. “That
will not be necessary. I'll just grab a big lunch at noon.” She hopped her feet
from the bed and onto the floor. “And there is no rush. I'm giving you this
morning off. Just make sure you are ready to help Frau Seiler at lunchtime.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Thank you, Mistress. But I still need to
shower, put on my makeup and fix my hair. And I will need some time to put on
an outfit for my shift. I fear Miss Brigitt will have me try various frilly
dresses before she finds one that is appropriate. I'll be glad if I'm actually
ready at lunchtime.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“What a wonderfully considerate sissy you
are,” she said with a happy smile. “I am so glad you offered yourself to me.
Your whole life no less...” She beamed “Now I have you all to myself.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“Thank you, Mistress,” I said as I bobbed a
curtsey. But my smile was uneasy. That last remark had troubled me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Mistress saw my broken smile. “What is the
matter, my dear?” she asked concerned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">“That is not quite true, is it Mistress?” I
said with a saddened voice. “Madame Directrice told me about Miss Rosenberg.
About your arrangement. She will come for me soon, won't she?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">Mistress walked up to me, put her hands
around me and drew my head against her shoulder. She kissed me on my forehead.
“Yes,” She simply said. She didn't apologise- that was not her way- but I could
feel her regret.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">We stood there for a moment, until I just
nodded. “If that is what it takes...” I uttered, fiddling with the ornament on
my collar. I detached from her embrace. Looked her in the eyes, and smiled.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">My heels clicked as I stepped back. I
bobbed a deep curtsey. “May I be excused, Mistress?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "dejavu sans" , "sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "DejaVu Sans";">She gave the slightest of nods. I felt her
gaze follow me as I left the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
rocketdavehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00574717380856957685noreply@blogger.com2