This chapter goes into detail about joining the sissy herd and the consequences of sissified lactation.

This was me, (in the basque and suspenders.) at the Sparkle weekend in Manchester.

I had a rotten early life, ( I couldn't call it a childhood.) so I'm making up for it by growing old disgracefully, (very disgracefully.)
In this picture the cheeky minx 'tested' my boobs which are all mine. Next story next picture. I'll be going to the Sparkle weekend every year until I drop or the wheels fall off my wheel-chair.
Brilliant!!!

17 Sissy Farm

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. AKA. Uncle Penny. My transvestite uncle. (Aunty Bev’s brother.)
James AKA. Auntie Jamie Peregrine’s Partner
Victoria An older RG friend of mine.
Jemima Victoria’s sissy brother.
Portia Victoria’s mummy.
Julia. My dining companion and mentor at Mistress Janet’s Academy.
Sophia and Angelica Victoria and Jemima’s friends.
Delilah & Nancy My ex Attackers.
Davinia. Sissified Gypsy boy once called David
John and Simone Davinia’s older gypsy brother and sister,

Chapter 17.

Within a week of starting the lactation medications all we sissies in the second year began to feel our breasts starting to become sensitive.

Then to our surprise and delight, the second Wednesday morning of the term we all simultaneously awoke to find our breasts feeling heavy and swollen. I was lying in a loose embrace with Janice when I sensed a slow dull ache invading my breasts. I groaned slightly and shifted to ease my breasts when I felt a distinct tingle in my nipples and I squeaked as the sensation brought me to full consciousness.

“Ah!” I gasped as I gently hefted my tender breasts inside their size‘d’ cups.

“What’s up?” Murmured a sleepy Janice, who then felt her own awakenings.

“Oh! Ooow-ooh!” She suddenly squeaked, as she mirrored my condition.

“It’s my breasts. I think I need to be milked.”

“Yes! So do I, I think.” Added Janice as she now also cupped her sensitive orbs.

We both sat up and fondled our aching breasts as our fingers strayed curiously to the swollen stiff nipples.

“Oooh! Mine are sensitive! Giggled Janice.

“So are mine. I’ll have to go. It feels a bit sore.”

We stepped out of bed and gasped as our mincing steps to the bathroom caused our swollen breasts to bounce sensitively. We collected our new nursing corsets and crossed the landing where we met the rest of our dormitory wing gathered in the showers as they feverishly waited while Victoria unfastened their corsets and belts. Once free of all encumbrances, each sissy plunged eagerly into the shower as one by one we all realised that the warm jets gave our aching breasts relief. Soon all we sissies and Janice were moaning contentedly in the showers like a herd of cattle waiting at the farm gate to be milked. Then Victoria joined us for a quick shower before ushering us out and getting us ready for our first visit to the dairy.

“Right you little darlings dry yourselves down and put on the special dairy corsets that you were issued with when you started this year. They are the ones with the special nursing cups and front fasteners. “

We had seen our older sissy colleagues already wearing these special dairy corsets so we knew how to put them on. Janice and I giggled self-consciously as we dressed each other and cupped our swollen breasts in the soft silk cups. The new corsets were a strange combination of cruel constriction around the waist and tummy whilst the nursing cups were deliciously soft and silky. They felt quite delightful as the beautiful material caressed our sensitive nipples. We could not resist caressing our sensitive nipples through the silky cups and we gasped salaciously as the silky material transmitted delightful tingles of pleasure from our nipples down our `milk-lines’ to our clitties. Both of us sagged with lust as we savoured the overwhelming sensations of pure pleasure rippling down our newly activated milk lines.

“Gosh!” Gulped Janice evocatively. “Now I know what they mean by a cow ‘letting down milk’ when the calf sucks her udder.

I croaked agreement but failed to form any words. My sensations of animal lust had reduced me to an animal state and it was several; seconds before I recovered any human composure.

When we had recovered our composure we stared at each other bashfully for we had obviously lost all inhibitions as our primordial mammalian needs had overtaken our higher sensibilities. For one fearful moment we had both become dumb dairy beasts. Finally we managed to control our urges and we were dressed by six thirty. By now our tits were starting to become uncomfortable. Janice and I glanced nervously at each other as we added the finishing touches to our appearances and gently hefted our aching breasts inside the new silky bra cups.

“Mine are beginning to ache.” I whimpered.

“So are mine.” Replied Janice. “Come on, we’d best get down to the dairy block.” She added.

We stepped out onto the landing then minced down to the quadrangle as fast as our new nursing corsets would allow. We both noted that the corset hems were narrower than our previous corsets and we had to sway our hips more than before to accommodate the steps of the stairs. Janice turned to me as we as we negotiated our way downstairs.
“Are these corsets tighter than the old ones?” She wondered.

“I think so,” I replied, “The cups are bigger and more comfortable, the waists are the same but the hems are definitely narrower.
We had to sway our hips alarmingly and this exaggerated our mincing gait until we joined the milling throng of second year sissies who were all gathered at the quadrangle and feverishly massaging their breasts as the need to be milked became progressively more painful and urgent.

The moment we arrived at the foot of the stairs, Delilah and Nancy joined us as they nervously massaged their aching breasts.

“Are your breasts sore?” Asked Delilah.

“Yes. It’s getting quite painful.” I replied as Janice nodded agreement.

Several other sissies within earshot nodded as we all tried to ease the aching by gently massaging our breasts. There was now a general air of agitation as we waited for Victoria to arrive and lead us to the dairy block. Victoria did not appear until six forty five and by then several of us sissies were whimpering needfully.

“Are you all ready darlings?” Called out Victoria knowingly.

A general chorus of urgent yesses answered her inquiry so she led us off in a crocodile of pairs between the hockey pitches to the dairy block. As we stepped outside the dormitory quadrangle we saw the other crocodiles of sissy herders converging towards the large dairy building.

At first we wanted to rush to get there first but Victoria was a stickler for discipline and she ordered us to slow down as senior sissies had priority, particularly the super milkers like, Julia.

Slow down darlings!” Ordered Victoria. “You won’t be milked any quicker, the dairy block doesn’t open until seven and then the senior milkers have priority. As the most junior additions to the herd you’ll have to wait your turn to be attended to.”

There was a low groan of discontent from our crocodile but Victoria ignored it. She was more than used to the stressful gathering of sissies every morning and evening. Finally we arrived at the dairy block and found ourselves looking up with urgent anticipation at the clock above the dairy block. As the aching in our breasts grew more painful we collectively wished the minute hand to hurry up. By now there was a low cacophony of sighs and moans as sissies from every year began to get agitated. Indeed some were already undoing their nursing cups as their needs overtook them. The more knowledgeable ones had anticipated this and they gently dabbed their leaking nipples as the milk started to spurt. One supermilker had even brought two small bottles and she was holding them to her gorgeous ripe breasts as her milk spurted into the bottles. The senior girl in charge of that class watched benignly then spoke to all of us sissies.

“If any of you have the same problems as Sandie here, you should take a leaf from her book and bring some emergency bottles.”

I wanted to ask why the dairy block didn’t open sooner but was afraid to in case I drew some sort of unwanted attention to myself. Instead I kept quiet and prayed that my aching breasts would not let me down. Eventually the sombre tones of the dairy clock measured out seven o’clock and the doors of the dairy block swung open. The super-milkers immediately advanced first, and then each class entered in strict seniority until we juniors entered last. As the other sissies went straight to their allotted stalls we were made to gather until Victoria could allot us our stalls. She explained the drill.

“Each pair will be allotted a stall and they will keep to that stall for the duration of the academic year. Each pair will be responsible for keeping their stall clean and also the milking equipment. Once you have finished being milked, each pair will have to clean up any spillages and then clean out the equipment. Now I know you’ve all paired up so the school likes to keep it’s dairy heard happy and you will of course each remain with your chosen companion unless their is some medical reason why you cannot remain partners. That very rarely happens. Now as I read out your pairs, I will give you a stall number. Each pair can go to the stall and wait for the dairy maid to attend. The dairy maids are all second year girls and so they will be learning too. Be patient. They are just as nervous and anxious but excited as you are.”

With these words, Victoria started to read out the paired names and we minced off to our stalls to await our first milking. Nancy and Delilah were in the stall next to Janice and me and we exchanged nervous smiles as we waited for our dairy maids to appear with the milking teats. Eventually two nervous girls appeared with uncertainty written all over their faces. Jenifer identified herself to Janice and me whilst Andrea joined Nancy and Delilah.

Jenifer smiled wanly then nervously connected the tubes of the vacuum teats to the vacuum line. Then she motioned her head self consciously towards our breasts and held out the suction cups as we garnished her meaning. We unfastened our corset cups and bared our ripe breasts. With trembling fingers Jenifer attached the cups to our nipples. The vacuum immediately drew our sensitive nipples into the teats cups and Janice and I gasped with delight as the first spurts of milk erupted from our nipples. Happy with her immediate success, Jenifer smiled with evident satisfaction as my and Janice’s milk started to fill the large transparent bottle. Jenifer instructed us to then lie facing each other on the large cushioned Bench

“D’you feel OK.” She asked.

“Mmm-mmm.” I replied as Janice also nodded. “Never felt better.”

Our beatific smiles obviously pleased Jenifer and she sat back with evident satisfaction as she watched our milk spurting rhythmically from our nipples.

“Does it feel nice?” She asked after a few minutes.

“Mmmm! Does it ever!” Sighed Janice as we lay facing each other and started to squirm softly.

Jenifer watched transfixed as our reactions started to betray our arousal and she giggled with fascination.
Janice and I started to get really horny but to our dismay, our milk started to dry up.

“Oh no!” I gasped. “I’m finished!”

Janice let out a snort of discontent then to her dismay she was also drying up. We looked up then to find the whole class of second year sissies expressing dismay as their breasts were being exhausted of milk.

“Gosh that wasn’t very long.” I cried.

“I suppose it’s because were just starting.” Observed Janice a little testily.

“Well that’s it I’m afraid. You’ve produce just over a litre between you.” Observed Jenifer.” “One thousand and twenty three cubic centimetres to be exact.”

“Crikey! How long before we hit the two litre stage?” Wondered Janice aloud.

“They say it takes a year or two.” Observed Jenifer. “Doctor Evans told us girls that younger sissies mustn’t produce too much too quickly or the calcium demands affects their bones and their growth. Here are your calcium supplements. I was told to give them to you if you jointly passed one litre. If you didn’t produce a litre, then I had to tell Doctor Evans. She monitors the sissy herd quite closely.”

“I suppose the same goes for me then.” Added Janice.

“It must,” replied Jenifer, “do you like being a milker?”

Janice nodded and gently wiped her deliciously pink nipples. I followed suite and we savoured the pleasures as we swapped duties and gently wiped each other’s nipples. Jennifer watched and smiled.

“It must be really nice to already be so close as sissy and mistress. Stonewall Jackson says you are going to be mistress and sissy when you grow up. Is that true?”

Janice nodded and smiled dreamily as her nipples stiffened erotically and she squirmed responsively.

“We’re something of a pair of guinea-pigs.” Observed Janice. “That’s why we share a private study.”

“Your nipples are nice and pink. Will they stay like that or go brown?” Asked Jenifer as she disconnected the equipment.

“Doctor Evans says it’s one of the few advantages of joining the sissy herd. My nipples will always stay pink and perky just like a sissy’s. It’s the lactation medicine that keeps them nice and pink and perky. Even if I have a baby later on. I can suckle my own baby if I want, but my nipples will never go brown and ugly. Nor will my breasts grow saggy.”
Jenifer gave a wistful smile.

“I wish I could join the sissy herd but my mummy won’t let me.”

Sadly, she gathered up the bottle and took it to the pasteurising room whilst we cupped our washed breasts back into our new dairy corsets and set about cleaning the equipment. Fortunately Jenifer had been super efficient for her part. There had been no mistakes and no milk spillages so there wasn’t much to do in the stall except tidy the sheets on the communal couch were we had lain together facing each other.

By seven thirty the whole class of second-year sissies were finished with milking and making their way back to the dormitory. Once in the quadrangle of the dormitory block, Victoria assembled us and gave us a questionnaire.

“Does anybody have any questions?” She asked.

A few sissies asked when they would get to the two litre barrier and allowed to share sissygasms so Victoria repeated what Jennifer had already told us.

“Producing too much milk would make too much demand on your sweet, little, growing bodies. You will need the calcium to grow your bones properly and develop the proper sissy shape with wide rounded hips and small waists. So I’m afraid it’s no sissygasms by milking until at least the fourth year.” She continued. “By then you’ll be fifteen and sixteen and you’ll have reached your full growth potential.”

There was a low sigh of discontent but we sissies had to accept the rules. As it was, we were already smaller than the girls and would continue to be so right up to adulthood. Thanks to our regimen of sex and growth hormones, we, as Mistress Janet’s sissies, would never be able to physically overpower a mistress. Sissies were far too delicate and effeminate to resort to violence. An ordinary girl would always be stronger and slightly larger. No matter what sort of nature an adult sissy had, she would always have to obey her mistress. Besides the very real physical constraints that prevented any useful resistance, the hormones also made us sissies submissive and compliant.

As to our relationships with real boys, well in truth we rarely saw any at the school. However, outside, during the holidays, we went in morbid fear of boys. To us sissies, real boys already appeared as huge powerful brutes who could snap our pretty corseted bodies like a dry twig. In adult life, we would always feel that little bit safer with our mistresses present in public places. Mistresses had better and more feminine wiles to control the huge male brutes. To our delicate, sissyish, perceptions and natures, boys seemed to lumber about like predatory beasts. They seemed to walk from the shoulders instead of swaying gracefully at the hips.

These lessons were learned early on. During our early teen years we learned very quickly that it was much better and safer to ‘pass’ as a girl than be ‘read’ as a sissy. Most boys seemed to take a cruel pleasure in tormenting sissies or worse, physically injuring them. In later years we sissies of Mistress Janet’s academy would be grateful for the early hormone treatments. In later years we were to learn from other sissies who had not had the benefits of Mistress Janet’s academy.
Ordinary sissies who had been sissified in adulthood always avoided boys and men unless introduced to them by their mistresses. They were too easily read and therefore too vulnerable. I was to be eternally glad that I had been sissified in my early life.
By the end of my second year at Mistress Janet’s Academy, I was well and truly sissified. My breasts had grown to double D and on my smallish, slender sissy frame, these looked spectacular. I was enormously proud of them.

On the last morning of my third year, I was admiring my naked tits in the long mirror as Janice helped me fit my new double D cup nursing corset that Aunty Bev had brought along after the school nurse had written to advise her of my development. Janice smiled over my shoulder and studied me in the mirror. Her breasts were a respectable D cup and coupled with her blossoming female body she also looked spectacular. She smiled impishly as she fingered my stiff sensitive nipples.

“Just think you’ll never be able to see your shoes again.”

I gasped responsively then giggled.”

“If they grow any more I’ll have to be very careful not to bend over too far. I’ll topple forward! As it is, my back and shoulders ache if I stand too long without my corset. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to live without it.”

“Oh you’ll be OK once you’ve stopped growing. Your body will be stronger once your bones are set.”

“Does your back ache?” I asked Janice.

“Yes a bit, because I’m a bit taller than you, but my breasts aren’t so big.”

“D’you wish they were?” I pressed her.

“Not really,” she grinned. “A ‘D’ cup is big enough for any girl.”

“D’you think mine are too big?” I continued.

“Oh gosh no! You’re a sissy. Mistress Janet’s sissies all have nice big breasts. It’s the dairy thing.”

“Mmmm.” I replied, not entirely convinced.

Janice sensed my uncertainty and stepped around me to gently plant a delicate kiss on each stiff pink nipple. Then she looked into my eyes.

“Secretly the girls are all a bit envious of we dairy herders. They know that if they have babies, their boobs will begin to sag and grow veins and have ugly brown nipples. Our tits will always be firm and erect with these delightfully sensitive pink nipples.”

“So why don’t the real girls take the same hormones as you?” I asked.

“I don’t know.” Replied Janice. “Doctor Evan’s advises them not to. It does something to the milk apparently.”

“Aren’t you worried about your milk then?”

“I don’t mind.”

“So what do these hormones do?” I pressed.

Obviously Janice had had extra instruction about the effects of the hormones. She made me sit then took the hairbrush from our vanity table and gently brushed my hair as she explained.

“Sissy milk affects baby boys. Apparently the brain is still forming during the first few months after birth and sissy milk affects the male brain. It modifies the sexuality function in the brain by changing the metabolism inside the little lobe beneath the cortex. Dutch doctors discovered a tiny lobe just beneath the cerebral cortex that reflected a person’s sexuality. Apparently transvestites have a different shaped lobe from ordinary males and gays have a different shape again. Doctor Evans was involved in some further research and discovered some hormone compounds that affect the new born male child. It’s much the same as a baby's social relationship developing by close tactile contact with their mothers during the early weeks of life. If a baby does not get proper nurturing and mothering at an early age then they can grow up into dysfunctional desensitised individuals who cannot relate to other human beings properly.

The Old Romanian regime of Chouchesque discovered this and used it to produce a generation of secret police who would happily torture men and women without batting an eyelid or suffering their own psychological breakdowns. They were completely inert to any compassionate responses and functioned like machines.

As babies they were removed from their parents and brought up in cold inhumane asylums. They turned out to be the perfect beasts to reinforce Chouchesque’s brutal oppression.

Well Doctor Evans studied this information and derived a hormonal technique to re-shape young baby’s brain and sexuality.
Then she used some clever gene manipulation and hormonal splicing and there you have it. Those horse-pills that Doctor Evans gives to the sissies contain these hormonal and genetic derivatives. By the time you sissies come into milk, your genetic makeup has been permanently changed. Your milk turns baby boys into future sissies. If a boy baby is suckled by a sissy or fed on sissy milk, by the time he is six months old, he has been changed completely into a little sissy inside his pretty little head. It later manifests itself sometime between ten and eighteen.

Doctor Evans has been very clever you see. The little boys grow up confused and uncertain until they finally realise they are sissies and then they want to look like girls and pass for girls.”

“But what about the boys who are not destined to be sissies?” I pressed nervously. “The reluctant ones, the ones sent to be punished by the courts? How are they changed?”

“She’s developed other pills that change the sexuality of the brain by similar chemistry. After a year on the medication any boy becomes a sissy and there’s no turning back. Even a full grown man will be sissified.”
I shuddered nervously at this astounding revelation. My only reassurance was that I was glad I had been a natural voluntary sissy.

Finally, Janice had finished my hair and we minced down to the common room ready to gather for breakfast. I noticed that I was quite hungry and mentioned it to Nancy and Delilah.

“So are we,” declared Delilah, “it must be because they took all that nourishment from us during milking. I’m famished!”

Other sissies gathered around us and declared their hunger as did Janice. Because the real girls did not feel hungry we realised that it must be the milking. Milking obviously made heavier demands on our metabolisms and we realised that the calcium supplement pills were only a small part of the bodily compensations needed to maintain milk production. A larger intake of food was also necessary. We were glad to tuck into the food after Mistress Janet had offered up prayers. The dining hall rang to the sound of busy cutlery but little chattering amongst us younger sissies. We were too busy replacing lost calories.
After breakfast we dispersed to our classes and I didn’t see Janice until English lessons with Miss Jackson (Stonewall Jackson) at eleven o’clock.

At the evening session of milking we gathered expectantly and quickly fell into the school routine. It was a routine that we followed throughout the rest of our time at Mistress Janet’s Academy.