This chapter explores Michelle's transvestism in greater depth and touches upon some of the 'mysteries' of the sissy farms.

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The Sissy Farm

Chapter 5.

List of Characters.

Me. Michelle A Natural transvestite sissy.
Janice My Younger sister
Aunty Bev Janice and My mother’s Sister.
Mistress Janet Headmistress of the young lady’s academy
Doctor Shirley Williams. My endocrinologist.
Miranda. A very effeminate Sissy sales assistant.
Miss Stern Miranda’s mistress who owns the shop.
Peregrine My transvestite uncle

We were allowed to indulge ourselves with some lovely pastries for lunch and Aunty Bev did not mind us each having a cup of coffee.

“Why you two not only look alike, you behave the same as well. I’m getting very fond of my twins.”
Janice and I exchanged smiles as we savoured our diet busting delights. Lunch was eventually over and Aunty Janice took us off to Miss Stern’s shop. It was a mainly a school outfitters and several local school uniforms were displayed prominently in the window. It was still early in the summer holidays so the shop was only moderately busy.
Only the better-organised families were choosing the school outfits for their children. The rush would come towards the end of the holidays when last minute harassed parents turned up looking to kit their children out. Nevertheless, the shop was busy and we had to wait a short while to be served so Janice and I were allowed to look around the shop. Eventually an assistant arrived to attend to Aunty Bev and she motioned to us to come to her side as she explained to the assistant.

“I’ll need to deal personally with Miss Stern. Miss Janet’s academy, you know.”

“Oh. Very well Madam,” replied the assistant knowingly. “She’s busy just now; would you like to wait in the anteroom?”

Aunty Bev nodded and we were escorted down a short corridor to wait outside a heavily constructed door. We took our seats and the pretty young assistant smiled at us as Janice and I first checked the seats before sitting demurely and attentively either side of Aunty Beverly. We sat silently until we heard some cries of distress emanating from the room behind the big door. Janice leant forward and peered past Aunty Bev as she caught my eye. I frowned nervously for we both wondered what was going on. A child, - it sounded like a boy, - was loudly protesting about something. Suddenly there was a short remonstration from another person, a woman by the sound of it, and this was followed by a sharp series of smacking sounds. To my ears it sounded like a bottom being smacked. The protests fell silent and things behind the door seemed to have calmed down. It was another quarter of an hour before things began to happen.

Eventually, the big door opened and a large tearful child emerged. The child hesitated in the doorway as it glanced nervously up and down the corridor and Janice and I quickly realised why. The child was a boy who was dressed in the most effeminate, frilly dress I had ever seen. His waist was incredibly small and he was panting slightly as he stood trembling with fear.
The hem of his dress ballooned out to just below his knees as he hesitated in the doorway. Then somebody behind him encouraged him to step forward and he walked, or more correctly minced forward only to stand nervously with his knees tight together looking totally confused and frightened.

As he squirmed and wriggled his butt, his posture seemed most stiff and upright.
His wriggling caused the stiff hooped petticoat under the dress to sway and bounce thus revealing the most deliciously ruffled knee length, tight fitting pantalets. The pale blue frills on the white pantalets perfectly matched the pale blue frills on his dress. Additionally, the boy seemed to want to constantly scratch his butt but seemed incapable of doing so.
It was only by his short hair that Janice and I had recognised him for a boy and a very tearful boy at that. He stared at us and almost froze with fear as he realised our surprised stares meant we had ‘read’ him for a boy. He made to try and retreat back into the room but he was followed by three ladies who evidently had him under their firm control.

“That way now!” Ordered the lead lady as she produced a short swish and whipped it menacingly across the backs of his stockinged calves.

The boy squealed again and resumed mincing up the corridor, as he frantically seemed to be trying to adjust his butt. As they made to enter the main section of the shop, the first lady turned to the third and smiled with evident satisfaction.

“She’ll get used to the stares. It’s the only way with some of them.”

The third lady nodded and instructed the second lady a middle-aged shop assistant, to go with the customer to tally up the bill. She then turned to Aunty Bev.

“Ah. I’m sorry about that, something of a recalcitrant child. They are often like that at first. She’ll change once she starts at Miss Janet’s. Now I’m Miss Stern, I presume you are here for Miss Janet’s academy."

Aunty Bev nodded and gracefully shook Miss Stern’s extended hand. “So, which one of these pretty children is going to Miss Janet’s?”

“Both of them.” Replied Aunty Bev.

“Oh! How sweet. Are they both sissies?”

“Eh, no.” Replied Aunty Bev. “This one is Janice my daughter, she’s eight, and this one is Michelle. She’s my ten-year-old sissy son.”

“Oh how delightful, they could almost be twins.”

So saying she bent down and extended her hand to Janice first. Janice stood up, took her hand and courtesied slightly as she smiled. Miss Stern’s smile beamed with evident approval as she presented her hand to me.
I copied Janice and deliberately courtesied a little lower to emphasise my co-operation. Once again Miss Stern smiled approvingly as she retained a grip of my hand and turned to Aunty Bev.

“Well they are a pair of delightful children and so well mannered. I think we’re going to get along splendidly.”

Aunty Bev patted both of us on the shoulder and Miss Stern led me by the hand as she steered us collectively into the room behind the big door.

On the other side I was amazed by the size of the room and even Janice let out a gasp of surprise. The place seemed to be brimming with acres of lace and frills that would have served a sissy for a lifetime. Janice's gasp was followed by my contented sigh as we stared at the rows of frocks. Miss Stern smiled as she turned to Aunty Bev.

“Well I’m glad they are pleased with what they see. You’ve trained them very well.”

“Well, it wasn’t that hard really,” confessed Aunty Bev. “ Michelle’s a natural born sissy with 100 percent transvestite tendencies. It’s harder to keep her out of frocks than get her into them. She’s tailor made for sissydom.”

“Oh. That’s nice, so no serious disciplinary problems?”

“Oh none whatsoever.”

“Well that’s a relief. I’m sure you heard that noise we had just now.”

Aunty Bev nodded as Miss Stern explained.

“Yes, it is a particularly awful case. The boy has been physically abusing his younger sisters for years. Then he sexually abused a neighbour’s daughter and it went to the courts. The judge knew about Miss Janet’s academy so he was sent here to be fitted for his first term.”

“Oh. Is that the uniform then? That frilly frock she was wearing.”

“Partly. It’s the outdoor ensemble when the girls are outside the school on educational trips etcetera. The everyday uniforms are quite varied depending on the task the sissies are learning on that particular day.”

The dressing and preparing for each day’s lessons is all part of the training. However, there is the disciplinary side but I don’t think these two delightful little ladies will be going down that route.”

So saying she bent down again and kissed us both on the cheeks as we stood obediently awaiting our fittings. Then she sat down and pressed a button on her counter. A bell rang in the front of the shop and the assistant who had first met us, entered the room. She was a very pretty young girl and her eyes widened with satisfaction as she took out her tape measure. Janice and I were immediately enchanted by her. Miss Stern introduced her.

“This is Miranda. I can tell you this now, because you’re going to Miss Janet’s. Miranda is a product of Miss Janet’s academy.”

Janice and I took a double take. ‘Could this delightful girl actually be a sissy?’ We wondered.

Miranda nodded and smiled sweetly as Miss Stern gave her instructions.

“Lift your skirt darling and take down your panties.”

Without a shred of protest, Miranda, did as instructed and gently fingered her secret places until a tiny little tube of flesh eventually winkled out from under the lower edge of her frilly corset that confined her girly curves. I noticed that Miranda had absolutely no hair in that area. It was completely smooth and a peachy pink. Miss Stern went on to explain to Aunty Bev who was staring intently at Miranda’s arrangements.

“As you can see my dear. Miranda is very feminine. That’s her boy clitty and the whole area has been permanently depilated for hygiene purposes. Her boy-clitty can only grow to about an inch and a half when fully erected. It is useless for serving her Mistress, that’s me.

It only serves to relieve her excitement when she’s been a good girl and deserves to be rewarded. Though I must say, Miranda is a perfectly delightful and co-operative sissy so she gets plenty of satisfaction. She is an excellent sales assistant. Thank you Miranda, you can make yourself presentable again.”

Miranda gave a respectful curtsey and adjusted her clothes before kneeling down in a stiff backed posture to measure us. She was efficient and quick as she read out the measurements to Miss Stern.

“Good,” declared Miss Stern as the last measurement was declared. “Well, it’s as I thought, you’re virtually the same sizes. You will readily pass for twins. Is that the planned lifestyle?” She asked Aunty Bev.

“Well, for the early years perhaps.” Declared Aunty Bev. “It’ll keep costs down if they can share their clothes. However, when they’re older, Miss Janice will be the mistress and Michelle the sissy.”

“Quite,” agreed Miss Stern. “Well let’s not beat about the bush, come girls, let’s get you outfitted.”

Having already been mesmerised by the huge range and selection, Janice and I almost fell over each other in our eagerness to choose our frilly frocks. Miss Stern and Miranda smiled as they noted our enthusiasm and exchanged remarks.

“Well, well. These two are going to be dream students aren’t they Miranda?”

“Oh yes Mistress Stern. Perfectly delightful.”

Our happiness was however not to be total. I discovered that I could only choose green or white frilly frocks whilst Janice could only choose pink or white. Miss Stern noted our disappointment and smiled as she explained.

“All the students can wear white or yellow frocks. That’s the default, neutral colour when they go outside the school and for regular school studies. If the girls want a change of colour, as ladies are want to do, then regular girls can choose pink. Co-operative sissies like you my little beauty, can wear green as green indicates they are co-operative and therefore safe about their sissification. Naughty boys, who are resistant to sissification, have to wear blue frock. Blue for a boy, you understand.

It’s a clear message to everybody at the school that the occupant of a blue frock is a boy and a naughty one at that. It’s just one more humiliation in the training to make them compliant.”

Miss Stern then bent down and held up a green frock against me as she smiled.

“You’re so lucky darling. You’ll never have to wear a blue frock unless you’re very naughty.”

“But I like pink.” I sighed.

“Well that’s a pity darling. Pink is for girls and you won’t be able to wear pink unless of course, - you, -“

“Oh no! I don’t ever want to lose my pee-pee.”

“Quite my dear. You’re perfect sissy. You’ll get along famously at Miss Janet’s.”

With our frocks selected, Miss Stern then led us to another rack that I recognised immediately as corsets.

“Oh. Will we be wearing corsets as well?” I asked, pleasantly surprised.

Miss Stern’s eyes widened with evident satisfaction as she exchanged a huge smile with Miranda then turned to me.

“Why do you like wearing corsets young lady?”

“Well I don’t know. I only help Aunty Bev with hers.”

“Well that’s an excellent start. Come on; let’s get you fitted. Off with your clothes.”

At the end of the row there was an open space but no changing rooms. Miss Stern explained to Aunty Bev who had been following us silently taking everything in.

“As Juniors, they’ll change communally at Miss Janet’s Academy. So they might as well get used to it now. We’ve got a changing area but only for the more senior students. Little girls have nothing to hide.”

Janice and I were by now well used to seeing each other naked so we had already stripped to our panties. Miss Stern smiled as she noticed our bras lying on the back of the chair.

“My, my. You are ambitious little girls aren’t you? A couple of years yet me-thinks, before you fill these.”
Aunty Bev explained.”

“Michelle likes wearing them. It gives her a certain pleasure and a sense of security. I suppose it’s the idea of being somehow constrained and supported. I indulge her, and Janice likes to copy her big sissy sister.”

“Yes, it’s common thing with young transvestites. Well, we’ve a splendid selection of bras and all regulation styles.” She held up my favourite frilly bra as she explained.

“These pretty little bras would not be permitted for the juniors. It’s all about body forming and shape forming. Now, let’s get you two little beauties into these corsets.”

“With little ado Janice and I undid the fasteners and stepped into the closed crotch corsets as we drew them up our legs. I was a little surprised that the corsets had closed panty style bottoms and asked curiously.

“If we wear these how do we pee when we’re laced in? The crotch is closed, there’re no poppers.
Miss Stern smiled.

“They are training corsets darling. When you arrive at Miss Janet’s, you are each allotted a companion. You’re companion always accompanies you to the toilet and assists you. Later, when you are older, you choose a companion. Most sissies become lifelong partners to their companions but you’ll understand all that when you are older. Now, chop chop! Let’s get you laced.”

Janice and I studied each other as we admired the satiny white corsets. They even had little cup forms in anticipation of any development. We both felt very ‘grown up’ at the idea of wearing corsets. Contentedly, I turned my back to Janice as she started to tug at the laces. I noticed that the panty sections were very snug and soon realised that with my pee-pee tucked back, there was no way I would ever develop any ‘conditions’ Still’ as I felt the corset bite into my waist I gave a little gasp of pleasure.

“Ah! That’s tight. Mm-mm. It’s a bit difficult to breath.”

Miss Stern nodded knowingly and took over with the laces. She gave the cords a final tug and tied them off. I felt as though I as going to be cut in half.

“Oo-oh! Oow! Ooooh. That’s tight!”

“That’s how it should be young lady. Now look at your waist in the mirror.”

I turned as I struggled to take little breaths and was stunned at the size of my waist. Miranda produced her tape measure and deftly slipped it around my ten-year-old waist.

“Hmm. That’s perfect. Fourteen inches.”

I had no idea what size a ten-year-olds waist should be but I could see that it was incredibly small. Even Aunty Bev expressed concern.”

“Won’t that affect her growth? The internal organs and stuff.”

“Not for a sissy. Provided the corseting starts early, the body adjusts. Just look at Miranda’s waist.”
Miranda proudly slipped the tape around her waist to present a tiny eighteen-inch girth. Miss Stern went on.

“It’s different for girls of course; the child bearing and all that. Janice's waist won’t be nearly so small.”

It was only then that I noticed Janice's white corset had pink lacy edging whilst my lace was green. As I pulled Janice's laces tight, I soon closed the lace eyelets and Janice's waist was still quite large. That’s not to say that she had no shape, for indeed she was distinctly 'hourglass', but her waist was nothing like as small as mine. Miranda produced the ubiquitous tape, slipped it around Janice's waist and declared.

“Sixteen inches.”

Miss Stern nodded with satisfaction.

“That’s fine for an eight-year-old girl,” she declared. “We’ll allow it to develop naturally as she grows, although she’ll always be corseted unless she becomes a mother. Girls are much more delicate you see, what with carrying babies and stuff.”
Aunty Bev seemed much more relaxed when she studied Janice's figure and tested the corset.

“Yes I see. I can actually slip my finger between her waist and the laces at the back.”

“Exactly.” Agreed Miss Stern. “Now try that with Michelle.”

Aunty Bev stood behind me and tried the same trick. It was quite impossible to slip her fingers down the laces at the back of corset. My body was totally imprisoned. I squeaked with pain as Aunty Bev tried to force her finger between the laces. She stopped as she realised she was actually hurting me.

“Oh I’m so sorry Petal. Yes that’s very tight. I notice it’s heavily boned.” She added as she turned to Miss Stern again. “Can she bend in it?”

“No.” Replied Miss Stern. “It’s to help with Michelle’s posture as well. Give her a demonstration Miranda.”

Miranda promptly bobbed down whilst keeping a perfectly straight back and I realised that Miranda hadn’t bent once while attending to us.

Even when going down to measure our lower parts, she had always bent her knees and kept a straight back. Miss Stern elaborated further.

“Miranda is a perfectly trained sissy now. She is allowed to wear a slightly shorter corset that allows her to bend her legs at the hips. If Michelle tried to bend her legs at the hips she couldn’t. Go on Michelle. Try it.”

I naturally bent forwards and found that I could hardly bend at the hip at all. In fact I was so tightly imprisoned that I unexpectedly lost my balance. I let out a squeal of fear as I started to topple like a log but fortunately Miranda had anticipated my plight. She stepped forward and cushioned my fall as my face fetched up into her delightfully fulsome breasts. My nose dug into her cleavage and I snuffled as I tried to recover my balance. For a second, Miranda held me to her bosom but it was not for long.

Miss Stern was obviously alert to any unwarranted licentiousness and Miranda soon stood me upright again. A tight knowing smile flickered across Miss Stern’s lips as she gave Miranda a knowing glance.

“Well. That’s enough of that. If Michelle would like to walk a few paces, we can see how the corset performs. Come along darling. Walk up the aisle and back.”

I realised immediately that the long, thigh length corset with the built in closed panty section would severely restrict my gait. I took a number of steps before I finally perfected the walk and took delicate mincing steps with my toes following a straight narrow line as the tapered corset compressed my thighs together. After a series of short mincing strides I finally reached the end of the aisle and turned to face the mistresses.

“Now try running darling.” Ordered Miss Stern.

I realised immediately that running was almost impossible but my residual boyish nature compelled me to try. As I speeded up my gait, I found the effort strenuous and soon ran short of breath. The corset restricted my chest as well as my thighs and deep breathing was all but impossible.

I ended up taking short rapid little breaths in the top of my rib cage and quickly ran short of air. As I approached Miss Stern, I began to feel quite faint and my face paled.

“Oh — oh. She’s having an attack of the vapours!” Declared Miss Stern as she reached out to save me from collapsing.

Once again I ended up with my nose and face buried in a lady’s bosom. This time it was Miss Stern’s majestic array. I snuffled again and struggled for air as Miss Stern realised the soft ripe flesh of her breasts was actually blocking my mouth and nose. She gently peeled me out of her cleavage and stretched me out on a settee that was obviously there for exactly that purpose. As I lay dizzily recovering my senses, I wondered how many other sissies had been through this same experience. It was several minutes before I recovered for I had become quite disorientated from shortage of breath. Aunty Bev seemed quite concerned as she fanned my face.

“Do you think we had better loosen her stays a bit?”

“Oh no.” Said Miss Stern. “It wasn’t serious. She’ll get used to it. Within a week, she’ll be breathing in little breaths quite normally.

Just remember, no strenuous exercises. Little sissies must always be genteel and poised.”

“What about Janice?” Pressed Aunty Bev.

“There’s less of a problem there. Janice can breathe fairly freely. She’ll even be able to run about a bit. Go on Janice. Show us.”

Janice immediately set off down the aisle with quick purposeful steps. She even broke into a mincing trot halfway down and continued to the end of the aisle before turning and trotting back. She arrived panting a bit but nothing like as distressed as I had been. Aunty Bev checked Janice's condition.

“Are you OK Darling?”

“Yes Aunty,” replied Janice, “it’s a bit tight but nothing as bad as Michelle’s.”

“Good, declared Miss Stern. Now the next thing is suspender belts and stockings. Normally, these are put on first and the panty corset goes over them but for this once we can just place them over the corset. Are you ready?”

I had recovered enough to nod my head weakly but it was quite impossible for me to get up off the sofa. The corset was simply too rigid. I flapped my arms weakly and Janice quickly recognised my plight.

“Michelle won’t be able to bend enough to put her stockings on!” She giggled.

“Quite,” replied Miss Stern. That’s why we always put the stockings and suspender belt on first. The stockings always have to go under the corset at the bottom anyway. However, you’ll find some suitable little slots to facilitate this. The suspender elastic can be threaded through the slots and drawn down under the lower part of the corset. Miranda will help just this once.”

I was promptly laid back onto the settee again while the suspender belt was fitted around my tiny waist. Then Miranda carefully reached up under the hem of my corset and felt around for the clips as she threaded them through the tiny slots. Naturally this gave her a splendid opportunity to feel my little pee-pee tucked back in the tight panty crotch and she smiled as I tried not to reveal my excited ‘condition’ Miss Stern could readily understand why Miranda seemed to be ‘having trouble’ threading the clips but her knowing smile remained enigmatic.

Eventually, all six suspender clips were sticking out from under the stiff lacy hem of my thigh length corset and Miranda started to slide the super glossy stockings up my soft hairless legs. Then she adjusted the clips so that they tugged the welts of the stockings high up my legs under the corset and almost to my built-in panties. As she worked the stocking up to my crotch, there was no hiding the rock-hard condition of my pee-pee. With a final tickle and stroke, she left me utterly frustrated and totally unable to relieve myself in any way. I just could not bend enough to reach under the hem of my corset and reach back up to my crotch. I was left hanging on the edge of frustration!

Next, Miss Stern helped me to stand and took me over to the rack to choose my frock. Despite the tensions building up in my body, I still could not resist choosing the frilliest ensemble. Miss Stern positively gushed with delight as she dressed me and buttoned up the bodice at the back. Finally she sighed as she finished of the giant bow and fluffed it out for full effect.

“Oh you’re such a precious little sissy! Why you’re a natural. It’s such a delight to serve a natural born sissy. Why that’s the most dainty, and gloriously frilly design we have. Just look at her Miss Beverly! Doesn’t she look absolutely super?”

I had to admit. I had never seen Aunty Bev’s smile beam so much as she replied.

“Perhaps a nice little parasol, a bonnet and some white Mary Jane’s, and she’ll be just perfect.”

Miss Stern clapped excitedly as she despatched Miranda to fetch the suggested items. Naturally, Miranda returned with two of everything. Janice was to be dressed the same way and we were to appear almost as identical twins except for our slightly differing waist sizes and the different coloured frilly edgings to our dresses. Mine was pale green whilst Janice’s was pink.

Had I been a naughty boy, my edging would have been pale blue, like the boy who had minced out earlier with tears in his eyes. As I thought back to his tearful demeanour, I now realised that he had been strictly corseted as well.
Finally, Janice was dressed and we were made to parade up and down the aisle as two large mirrors were wheeled out for us to study our reflections. Both Janice and I gasped as we recognised a pair of virtually identical twins. Only our hairstyles and colour-coded frills separated us. Unfortunately Aunty Beverly just had not been able to find me a matching waist length wig in the same colour hair as my little sister’s. As we held hands in front of the mirror, we could not help squeezing our hands and smiling at each other. Despite the rigours of my corset, the reflection in the mirror was perfectly delightful!

As Janice and I savoured our delightfully frilly appearances, Miss Stern drew Aunty Bev aside.

“Would you like to see the disciplinary section for naughty boys?”

Aunty Bev’s eyes widened with curiosity so Miss Stern instructed Miranda to keep we two children busy as she took Aunty Bev through another door.

Miranda wasted no time in entertaining us as the door closed behind Aunty Bev.

“Are you two excited about going to Miss Janet’s?”

We nodded hesitantly as Janice asked.

“Will we always have to wear these corsets?”

“Yes, except for gymnastics. Then you get to wear a merry widow to allow you some freedom. Would you like to see them?”

We nodded and she led us to another rack where there were some very short corsets with the same tiny waists. Miranda explained.

“With these you can bend more easily and you can breath freely to play hockey. You have games twice a week and gymnastics twice a week. Nearly all the pupils choose to do games for it gives them a rare opportunity to be free of the regulation corsets. I used to love gymnastics, that’s why I have such a lovely figure.”

Our eyes fell covetously to Miranda’s slender waist and I couldn’t resist placing my hands on it. Miranda took my fingers and delicately led them up the stiff boning to her breasts. I savoured the deliciously ripe swellings as they wobbled provocatively where her deep inviting cleavage was served up by the built-in balconette bra of her corset. Miranda glanced down at her abundant breasts and smiled.

“They are double D’s. That’s the dream for every sissy. All the pupils at Miss Janet’s are very lucky. If they don’t grow completely naturally then they get some help.”

“Are yours natural?” Asked Janice, who was mesmerised by the creamy soft swellings.

Miranda smiled and pressed both our hands into her cleavage as she replied proudly.

“Yes darlings, they are all mine and I’m one of the prize members of the sissy herd.”

“Sissy herd! What’s that?” I asked.

“Oh you’ll learn all about that when you go to Miss Janet’s. It’s a wonderful organisation. Now d’you want to see my little pee-pee again?”

Both Janice and I had been fascinated by Miranda tiny little pink appendage and we nodded eagerly. Miranda smiled invitingly and lay back upon the settee as she lifted the hem of her skirt and pulled her panties down to her knees. Janice and I were fascinated by Miranda’s pink frilly corset.

“I thought boy sissies only wore green or blue.” I declared accusingly.

“Oh that’s only for pupils at Miss Janet’s. I’m an adult sissy now. I’ve left school so I can wear whatever my mistress allows.”

“D’you like pink?” I asked, looking for some supportive thread of commonality to my own preferences.

Miranda smiled and nodded as she spread her legs and gently eased out her tiny little pee-pee again. It was only about half an inch long and about a third of an inch wide. Janice giggled.

“It’s smaller than Michelle’s!”

Miranda giggled as she explained.

“It’s only for pleasure. Sissies serve their mistresses by other ways. This is my boy clitty and it’s only for when I go to the parlour.”

“The parlour?” I asked.

“Yes darling, the dairy parlour. I may have left school but I’m still a member of the sissy herd.”

“Can it grow at all?” Asked Janice as she fingered the soft fleshy little tube hoping to make grow stiff like mine did.
Miranda twitched and squirmed but nothing happened as she gasped.

“It only grows stiff when I’m in the dairy parlour, when I’m being milked with my milking partner.”

Neither Janice nor I understood any of this but we resolved to ask Aunty Bev. Miranda was adamant that she could not tell us any more about the sissy herd. We continued asking her other questions about Miss Janet’s academy and were surprised when Miss Stern and Aunty Bev appeared behind Miranda. They had entered by another door and crept upon us in anticipation of Miranda doing exactly what she had done. Miranda suddenly recognised the surprised expressions on our faces and she whipped around fearfully to Find Miss Stern and Aunty Beverly looming over her. She moved to yank up her panties and tug down her skirt but Miss Stern spoke softly.

“Oh please Miranda. Don’t be so shy on our behalf. Where you explaining something to the girls.”

Miranda teared up fearfully as she lowered her head and courtesied.

“Yes Mistress Stern.” She croaked softly as fear stole her voice.

“Why do tell. What have you got down there that might be of interest to young girls?”

“I was explaining mistress.”

“Explaining what, may I ask?”

“About boy-clitties. How they are so small and cannot be of any use to a lady. How they cannot harm a lady or threaten them. How sissies are completely bent to a mistresses will.”

Miss Stern smiled and led Aunty Bev around to Miranda’s exposed boy-clitty.

“There you see Miss Beverly. It’s still tiny and flaccid. It can never you know, become a threat to a lady. It only serves to pleasure Miranda when the occasion demands.”

“Milking time.” Observed Aunty Bev knowingly.

“Exactly. These two young misses will learn all about it when they attend Miss Janet’s academy.” Miss Stern then smiled condescendingly at Miranda as she gently tickled Miranda’s boy-clitty. “There-there, my delightful little sissy. You just tuck your tiny little plaything away until milking time tonight.”

Miranda’s eyes widened with pure relief as her tears dried up and she curtsied as low as her corset would allow. Miss Stern smiled and we resumed shopping to complete our outfits. Finally we gathered all the shopping bags together and returned to the front of the shop. Miranda rang up the sales and whispered to us as Miss Stern spoke to Aunty Bev by the door.

“You’re always welcome to shop here. Your aunty has opened an account. Are you full time boarders as Miss Janet’s or just weekdays?”

“Weekdays.” Replied Janice as Miranda arranged the parcels and gathered together a load for herself.

It was obvious we would need help to the car. Miss Stern held the door open and graciously exchanged a kiss with Aunty Bev as we minced through the door with our arms piled high. Shopping was such a delight but it was hard to carry a load and bend down to fill the car when our corsets prevented us bending. Miranda understood our plight and graciously unloaded our arms as the boot of the car filled up.

Our next ordeal was getting into the car as the corsets restricted our bending. I had to sort of lean backwards into the car then flop back as my ruffled frock and hooped petticoat flicked up to expose my thighs. Aunty Bev watched a little disapprovingly as my corset and stockings flashed into view.

“We’ll have to see about a longer frock before school starts darling. We can’t have you exposing yourself like that. It’s inviting trouble.”

Miranda curtsied respectfully and suggested that a longer pair of frilly pantalets would also help, just like the other naughty boy had been wearing.

“There are several pairs in the outfits Mistress Beverly. You’ll see what I mean when you’re dressing them tomorrow.”

“I think I’ll be dressing them tonight.” Replied Aunty Bev as she helped Janice into the front seat.
Janice had the same problem as her frock and ruffles flicked up to reveal her stocking thighs and lacy corset edge. Fortunately the door of the car prevented everybody getting a flash of underwear. Even so, Janice and I found it somewhat difficult to sit casually in the car. We were compelled to maintain a stiff upright posture whilst the corsets dug painfully into our thighs. Mine also bit painfully into my waist to add further discomfort. As I fidgeted and gasped tiny little breaths, Aunty Bev smiled in the mirror.

“Never mind petal. You’ll soon get used to it. Your shape will change to accommodate the corset and you’ll soon have a perfect sissy figure, just Like Miranda.”

The idea of turning out to look as pretty and curvaceous as Miranda sent a shiver of delight through my imprisoned body. Miranda was such a delightfully pretty and shapely girl. ‘Well sort of girl’, I corrected myself mentally for her boy clitty hardly qualified her as a man it was just too pretty and petite to be called a penis.

Aunty Beverly's words proved correct. Why that very afternoon even as I eased myself somewhat stiffly out of the car the corset seemed a little less tight. I smoothed down my frilly dress and minced around to the rear of the car where Janice and I started unloading the shopping. Once in the house, Aunty Bev decided to try out the whole range of accoutrements associated with attending Mistress Janet’s academy. She had us strip naked and then she made us don the lacy chemise and thigh length frilly bloomers before re-imprisoning ourselves in the corsets. As we made to step into the corsets Aunty Bev suddenly remembered.

“Oh. We all forgot! You have to put the suspenders and stockings on first. Come on. Slip these on first.”

We giggled as we realised there was a learning curve to corsetry. We slipped off our frilly bloomers and secured the suspender belts around our waist before savouring the soft silky sheen of the stockings stretching right up to the tops of our legs. Janice sighed.

“Mm. It’s much better with the stuff going on in the right order. These fit nicely.”

“Yes. They feel very comfortable. Now let’s get these corsets on again.”

Aunty Bev supervised our efforts and pointed out the pitfalls.

“Make sure there are no folds or creases under the corset. The silky material of chemise and the satiny bloomers will help to make the corsets more comfortable.”

We took her advice and Aunty Bev tightened my corset laces to the same tension as Miss Stern had applied. I realised that despite the corset’s tightness, the slippery interplay betwixt the satin lining of the corset and my silky underwear made for some sensuous sensation despite the restriction to my movement.

“Mm-mm.” I sighed as I took short delicate breaths. “This is a bit better.”

“Is it really?” Asked Janice.

“You just wait and see.” I replied. “Come on, let’s do your laces.” I gasped.

Janice squeaked a bit as I tugged her laces but once she was imprisoned again, she felt forced to agree.

“Mmmm. Your right! The silky underwear makes the corset less abrasive. It somehow feels free-er despite the tight fit. I still can’t bend though, can you?”

“No.” I sighed wistfully. ‘If this was to be my new dress mode then I was certainly destined for a life of simpering mincing sissydom.’

Finally we slipped our frocks over our heads and each buttoned the other into our wasp-waist frilly ensembles. For long moments we admired each other in the large hall mirror as Aunty Bev stood cooing with satisfaction. She now had two perfect and adorable little ‘nieces’. The only thing missing was my wig and I turned to Aunty Bev.

“Shall I put it on?”

“No darling. That’s for public occasions. A wig can wear out just like any other item of clothing. Your hair will soon grow out, then we can get it styled somehow.”

I frowned slightly at my reflection. The short boyish hair just did not match the rest of my appearance. Still, at least I was not to be humiliated in public. Now dressed again, Janice and I donned our pinafores and went to assist in the kitchen. Naturally it was a light salad again for we had rather indulged ourselves during lunch. Besides, large meals were virtually impossible in such tight corsets. Once the meal was prepared, Aunty Bev had Janice and I practice sitting in our corsets. It was a trying exercise but eventually we were fairly proficient and managed a reasonably graceful approach to the table. Aunty Bev beamed with satisfaction as we sat straight-backed and nibbled delicately at our salads.
Now darlings. I think it’s time you prepared for bed. Don’t forget you’ve got a busy couple of days in London. The doctor tomorrow and cousin Peregrine the day after.