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

As Uncle Penny picked her way through the late afternoon London traffic, Janice and I sat in the back of the air-conditioned car and kept smiling at each other and releasing the hems of our dresses. This caused the hooped petticoats to spring up making the massed layers of frothy lace and organza flip up and expose our frilly pantalets. It felt jut so delightful to savour the sudden waft of air as the springy hoops flipped up to suck cool air under our petticoats. We two ‘sisters’ were so engrossed in our game that we failed to notice heads turning as hungry eyes noticed our frilly pantalets, silky stockings and pink ‘Mary Jane’ shoes. The sight of two delicious morsels sitting in the back of a large family saloon car must have titillated many imaginations that afternoon. We ‘girls’ however were too young and inexperienced to realise.

Auntie Bev however, knew exactly what was going through those minds. Fortunately, she also knew we were safe whilst inside the car and in her company. Had we been alone and out on the street or mincing in the park, such was the effeminacy of our ensembles we would have been a target for every twisted mind in the city. Auntie Bev was even unsure of Uncle Penny’s interests for she noticed her sissy brother constantly glancing back at us in the driving mirror and smiling indulgently. She needn’t have worried though, in my adult life, Uncle Penny was to prove to be one of my closest and dearest friends. Uncle Penny was an effeminate transvestite homosexual consequently he never showed any licentious interest in his only ‘nieces’.

When we arrived at Victoria’s large family home in Richmond, Uncle Penny renewed the introductions while Auntie Bev helped us decamp from the car in a more decorous and demure manner. It required quite a bit of effort to manoeuvre ourselves so that our hooped petticoats didn’t flip up and expose our lacy underwear.

This time however, Auntie Bev warned us and this sagacity was to be our first real lesson in the dangers of an innocent exposure of lacy intimates being misinterpreted as some sort of flirtatious invitation.

As we minced into the house, Victoria and her mummy made us welcome then they introduced us to Victoria’s sissy daddy who was setting out the dining table. He was wearing a lovely frilly blouse with a tailored plum coloured skirt and a pretty little cocktail apron to protect his ensemble. He wore seamed stockings for I could distinctly see the telltale lumps of his suspender clips under his tight-fitting pencil skirt. His four inch heels matched his skirt and his blond hair was coiffured up into a tight roll with a pretty plum coloured bow to set off the whole ensemble.

We had to step through the dining room French doors to enter the garden and he took the opportunity to do a bunny bob as he bent down and kissed us both affectionately on the cheeks. I was surprised to feel the slightest rub of stubble on his chin but it was well disguised under his makeup. Victoria’s dad was obviously a man but one would never have realised it by looking at him. He passed remarkably well.

In the garden we were introduced to Victoria’s sissy brother Jemima and her friend Angelica. Both ‘girls’ were wearing identical blue dresses and it was obvious that they were very upset about something. Their eyes were red rimmed with tears and their cheeks had bright red spots. They were both clenching their fists and stamping their feet in a most prissy and petulant manner. On being introduced to Janice and me, Jemima responded politely before resuming her tiff with Angelica.
Victoria seemed more amused than annoyed with her younger sissy brother and she motioned to another older girl who then ushered the fractious pair away.

Janice and I were slightly puzzled by Jemima’s truculence, for after all, this was her birthday and surely, every girl enjoyed her birthday. Victoria helped us to sit in a large garden, swinging seat and explained as the bickering sissies were led into the house and up into the bedroom.

“That is behaviour typical of a sissy.” Declared Victoria.

“What’s upset them?” Asked Janice.

“They’re having a hissy fit.” Explained Victoria.

“A Hissy Fit. What’s that?” I asked.

“Oh when two of Mistress Janet’s sissies discover that they are wearing identical outfits, they get upset. They can’t help it. They are programmed to be that way at Mistress Janet’s academy. If they see another sissy wearing the same clothes as themselves it sends them into a frightful tantrum. The problem is that being sissies, they find it impossible to release their anger by physical aggression that is the normal release mechanism for males. Consequently they become extremely emotional and try to find other behavioural mechanisms to release their anger. For example, crying, squealing, stamping their foot, sucking their thumb, wetting themselves, clenching their fists, prancing around and eventually having an attack of the vapours.
It’s called a ‘hissy fit’ and it’s extremely stressful for the sissy because there is no proper emotional outlet for their frustrated distress. Indeed, their petulant antics appear hysterically funny to ordinary individuals once they realised the sissy cannot get violent. Miss Janet’s sissies you see; are completely unable to throw a punch or indeed even scratch or pull hair. A properly programmed sissy cannot even win in a fight against the timidest girl. Her initial and only reaction will be to cower and squeal with terror at the slightest threat from a stranger whilst completely submitting to the will of her mistress or any other known female acquaintances.

“Is that what Jemima and Angelic just had; a hissy fit?” I asked.

“Exactly,” smiled Victoria, “so now, they’ve been taken upstairs to be disciplined.”

“Oh. What does that mean, disi, - disa, -?” Wondered Janice, betraying her eight-year-old’s vocabulary.

“Disciplined means being corrected.” Smiled Victoria. “Both sissies have to be made to understand that whilst hissy fits are expected in sissies, they should always try to control them. If they can’t control them then they must accept the consequences for their own failings.”

“So what will happen to them?” I asked.

“They will probably be plugged or something. Mummy usually knows exactly what to do and Sophia, that’s Angelica’s older sister, will assist mummy.”

“Is she the girl who ordered them upstairs?” Asked Janice.
Victoria nodded and gently swung her legs to set the garden seat swinging. We rocked in silence for several minutes until Jemima and Angelica reappeared from inside the house. It was immediately noticeable that they both walked with very tight mincing steps as they swayed and teetered towards us. Despite this peculiar behaviour, it was obvious that both sissies were still very upset about wearing the same ensembles. Victoria slowed the swinging garden seat down and invited the pair to join us as Janice and I wriggled together to make room. Jemima and Angelica settled very delicately on the seat and wriggled uncomfortably as their butts made contact. However, because their corsets restricted their agility, once they had bent down to sit, the stiffness of their corsets precipitated their descent. Both sissies ‘flopped’ into the seat and squirmed anxiously before finally raising their legs and settling in a semi prone position beside each other as they lay along the seat. In this position they had to slip their shoes off and rest their legs on my and Janice's laps whilst Victoria sat on our other side and resumed gently rocking the seat.

With both sissy’s silk clad stocking legs resting on our laps, it was all Janice and I could do to resist the temptation to tickle their feet. Instead we gently stroked their soft, smooth, curvy, silky legs to reassure them that we meant no harm. Both sissies smiled wanly and simpered gratefully as they tried to suppress their overwhelming urges to squirm and wriggle their butts.
Eventually, their whimpering quietened down but the gentle squirming persisted. Jemima and Angelica slid down slightly so that their corseted butts were pressing Janice and me up against Victoria at the other end of the long garden seat. Slowly the pair entwined their stockinged legs around each other and started to hug each other as they each placed their own thumb in their friend’s mouth. They looked at Victoria as though begging for permission and Victoria smiled condescendingly. Then, the tension that I could feel in their bodies, relaxed and they settled more easily as they commenced silently sucking each other’s thumbs.

It was only after everything fell silent that Janice and I finally heard the feint whirring noises emanating from inside their bloomers.

“What’s that noise?” Asked Janice as she turned to Victoria.

“It’s to make sissies behave when they’ve been naughty. You’ll learn all about it when you start school in September.”

“Yes!” Gasped Jemima as she slipped Angelica’s thumb from her mouth and wriggled with agitation. “You’d better always be good or you’ll get it.”

I wanted to ask more questions but Victoria put her fingers to her lips and softly spoke a warning.

“Don’t ask too many questions, girls. Half the fun at Mistress Janet’s is the learning process.”

On this note we fell silent as Victoria continued gently rocking the swing until other children arrived.

After several minutes, I started to get uncomfortable being squeezed between Jemima and Angelica’s butts on my right hand side and poor Janice on my left hand side. Janice was also being squeezed between Victoria and me. I struggled to get comfortable and Janice objected.

“Stop pushing.” She cried.

“I’m being crushed,” I explained.

Victoria nodded and recognised that the two bigger sissies had slid further along the seat and were now pressing all three ‘girls’ up to one end. In doing so, their frilly satin frocks had ridden up to expose their corsets and knee length bloomers. I noticed that even their underwear matched so it was no wonder they were suffering from a ‘hissy fit’. Ever the obliging little sissy myself, I offered to sit at the other end and let them rest their heads on my lap. (To tell the truth, Jemima and Angelica’s beautiful, matching, long flowing golden hair fascinated me.) Victoria’s eyes widened with delight as she smiled.

“Why Michelle, that’s a lovely idea! You’re such a thoughtful little sissy. Isn’t that such a kind thought Jemima?”

Victoria’s little sissy brother nodded sulkily as she continued embracing her friend Angelica. Victoria scolded her.

“Why you ungrateful sissy. Say you’re sorry and give Michelle a kiss to thank her. Everybody will be much more comfortable if Michelle sits up that end and makes room for Janice and me down here. Now, lift your legs and let Michelle get up.”
Jemima and Angelica struggled to raise their legs enough for me to get up but I was pinned down by the strictures of my own corset. I floundered helplessly until Victoria recognised my plight and she smiled as she extended a helping hand.

“You still haven’t got used to corsets, have you darling.” She grinned.

I huffed and puffed for a moment before I was finally tilted up like a log by Victoria’s helping hand. Once I was standing, I smoothed down my frock, made some frou-frou with the multiple petticoats then invited Jemima and Angelic to lower their knees onto Janice's lap before raising their heads to allow me to sit at the other end. They obliged, mainly because of Victoria’s domineering presence, and I carefully plopped my corseted bottom down next to the arm of the garden seat. The pair then lowered their heads into my lap and made them selves comfortable. Janice and Victoria smiled gratefully as everybody was now comfortable. Jemima and Angelica resumed sucking their thumbs as I stroked their lustrous hair and dreamed of the day when my hair would be like theirs and Janice's.

From my corner of the swinging seat I could see Auntie Beverly and Victoria’s sissy dad, smiling at us through the kitchen window. I realised we presented an idyllic scene. Five pretty ‘girls’ in beautiful frilly party frocks, savouring the warm, late afternoon English sunshine. Our peace was only to last for a quarter of an hour though before Sophia appeared out of the French doors with the remainder of the children who we had met at the crá¨che the night before. We four younger ones were roped into games of ‘catch’ and tag whilst Victoria and Sophia where invited to join the adults indoors. At fifteen and sixteen, the two older girls were being slowly inducted into adult company while Janice and I being only eight and ten respectively, were attached to the junior group who were aged between eleven and fourteen.

The garden soon rang to excited squeals and shrieks of delight as corseted sissies and real girls minced eagerly after each other trying to catch their favourite friend and perhaps even steal a kiss. Naturally our childish enthusiasm started to get the better of us and the fun started to liven up. Eventually we heavily corseted sissies fell victim to ‘the vapours’ as we ran short of breath. One of the girls realised the situation and minced urgently into the house.

“Jemima, Angelica and all her sissy friends have had fits of the vapours!” She giggled. “They’re all collapsed on the grass.”
Victoria and Sophia were despatched to deal with the situation and soon mustered the younger girls to assist in unbuttoning our frocks and slackening our corsets so that we could recover our breath.

Most of us sissies had actually feinted and I myself only remembered coming to and wondering what the strange flickering light was. As I recovered consciousness I realised it was the sun shining through the foliage of the apple tree where I had collapsed and feinted. As I recovered, Janice brought me a glass of water and smiled as she held it for me. My hands were still too unsteady as they shook feebly.

“You’ve just had the vapours.” She giggled.

I was too breathless to speak and simply lifted my limp fingers to my head as I tried to sit up. It was no good. I was still too disorientated and had to sit quietly for several more minutes before I was finally feeling right. Eventually we all recovered and Victoria’s sissy dad tightened our corsets to the regulation settings before we were taken upstairs and made presentable. In Jemima’s huge bedroom, all the sissies fussed and primped with their appearances as they assisted each other with their frocks and hair before tidying up their makeup. I noticed, no girls were present and I felt a little left out because I had no companion to help me. Eventually, Jemima recognised my plight and invited me to her dressing table. As I approached she took hold of me and struggled to lift me onto her lap. I was surprised at how difficult Jemima found it was to lift me. She was fourteen after all and I was only ten. Victoria had lifted me with consummate ease and she was only a sixteen-year-old girl. Obviously, sissy Jemima was a lot weaker than his older sister.

I would learn why as I got older myself and grew up in Mistress Janet’s academy. Not only were Mistress Janet’s sissy’s cowardly pansies when confronted with merest threat of violence, but they were also enfeebled physically. Naturally, they were utterly incapable of physically resisting an unwanted advance or threat. In all social circumstances, sissies were worse off and weaker than lambs before lions.

The most excruciating circumstance was when a mistress had instructed a sissy to resist another person’s advance but the poor sissy was utterly incapable of offering any practical resistance to that unwanted approach.
She could of course, cry and whimper and beat her useless little fists on the attacker’s chest, or even breasts, if the attacker was a woman, but any meaningful, effective resistance was utterly beyond them. Mistress Janet’s sissies were always the attacked and never the attacker.

Anyway, after having struggled to lift me onto her lap, Jemima smiled into her mirror and helped me adjust my wig before applying just the most delicate touch of makeup.

In struggling to lift me onto her lap, Jemima’s efforts had caused our hooped petticoats and frilly dresses to ride up to our waists. My silky pantalets were visible all the way up to the hem of my corset and Jemima’s high gloss stockings were also visible past her knees where they disappeared under the frilly edges of her silky bloomers, which in turn disappeared under her satiny pink corset at mid thigh.

I couldn’t resist wiggling my bottom and crossing my legs as my silky nylon stockings slithered inside my satiny pantalets which in turn slithered about on Jemima’s high gloss stockings and silk frilly bloomers. For a moment I almost slipped off Jemima’s lap but she caught me by my slender waist. Jemima had also enjoyed the slippery frictionless sensation of several layers of silk, satin and nylon slip sliding against each other. She whispered in my ear.

“Silk stockings and nylon panties are just the nicest feeling aren’t they?”

I sighed and nodded my head blissfully as she gently reached under my corset and stroked my stiff, silk imprisoned little pee-pee whilst giggling softly.

“I can tell you like it don’t you?”

“Yes,” I whispered softly, “don’t you?”

“At times like this, yes,” she sighed as she gave my waist one last little squeeze and gently reached up under the hem of my corset again to savour one last stroke of my trapped pee-pee.

“D’you want to feel mine?” She whispered.

Curiosity got the better of me and I cautiously inveigled my hand under the hem of her corset. Jemima squirmed and twitched eagerly but I had trouble finding her pee-pee.

“Where is it?” I gasped. “I can’t find it.”

“Just a bit lower, you’re too high.” Croaked Jemima.

I followed her instructions and eventually located a very stiff but very small little bud.

“It’s hard,” I exclaimed, “but it’s very small.”

“Yes,” sighed Jemima, “I’m a proper sissy now.”

I fingered it curiously for a few minutes and eventually Jemima gave a soft little mewling sound like a kitten looking for it’s mother. Then she wrapped her arms around m and squeezed me eagerly before letting out a soft sigh and hugging me tighter.

“Ooooh! Thank you. That was just so lovely!”

After recovering from what was obviously some sort of orgasm, Jemima lifted me back up to her lap and hugged me tight to her breasts.

I couldn’t help snuggling up to her ripe soft breasts and savouring the intimacy before she wagged her head despondently then took hold of my sissified waist and lowered me down again gently. I now found it impossible to compose myself because my little pee-pee was stiff with frustration but I couldn’t bend enough in the rigid corset to reach under my corset and bring my boy-clitty any relief. I squirmed as I hesitated beside Jemima while she expertly applied the finishing touches to her own appearance.

“I wish I could do makeup like you.” I sighed.

“You’ll soon learn all about makeup at Mistress Janet’s.” Sighed Jemima as she shifted uncomfortably to try and adjust her corset whilst the strange, soft ‘buzzing’ noise continued to betray the strange goings-on in her butt. Unable to bring any remedy to her situation she finally sagged despondently before adding.

“We can’t always have what we wish for though, can we? For instance I wish I always had a lovely little sissy brother like you to play with, somebody who could have taken my place when I was younger. Your just such a little beauty.” Replied Jemima wistfully.

I sensed Jemima’s remorse and persisted inquisitively.

”Why? Don’t you like being a sissy?” I asked innocently.

“I wanted to be a boy, but it’s too late now. I’ll always be a sissy. Look at me, look at these.”

She cupped her bountiful breasts and made them wobble attractively. I wanted to touch them but resisted the temptation. It was my first intimation that some boys hated being sissies and Jemima was such a boy. However, such was my own transvestite, innocence and ignorance. I had no idea that wearing beautiful frilly frocks, silky stockings and corsets could actually be deemed a punishment. I found the whole experience simply delightful.

‘Still,’ I supposed privately, ‘it took all sorts to make the world go around.’

I stood gazing enviously at Jemima in the mirror until she smiled back at me then stood up as gracefully as her buzzing discomfort would allow and declared that we all had to go down to her birthday tea. It was hard for me to make Jemima out. Sometimes she seemed to revel in her sissiness and at other times she seemed to rebel. I hadn’t realised that Jemima was still transitioning and until she was sixteen or so, she would have flashbacks to her early boyhood and suffer withdrawal symptoms. Mistress Janet’s techniques and training were well proven though, and by the time Jemima was sixteen or seventeen, she would be a perfect sissy.

As Jemima led the others downstairs, I noticed that she and Angelica were mincing much more than the rest of us sissies and both of them were squeezing their knees so tightly together that they could hardly walk. It exaggerated her mincing gait tenfold and I eventually realised that the buzzing sounds emanating from under their bloomers must have had something to do with it. Despite her obvious discomfort, Jemima struggled to present as a perfect sissy as she took my hand gently and we minced together down the stairs. Then her exaggerated mincing walk made our petticoated frocks flounce and sway as we made our entrance into the dining room. All eyes widened with appreciation as we made a perfect parade of sissies and took our places at the table.

“Pray be seated,” ordered Jemima’s mummy, and we all graciously took our seats at the table.

It was noticeable to all that Jemima and Angelica were the last to sit for they took considerable care to lower their butts very gingerly onto their chairs. I was too fascinated with the table full of delights to notice the knowing secretive smiles, flash between the adults as they discreetly noted Jemima and Angelica’s super-sissified decorum. I would come to learn of vibrating butt-plugs soon enough in Mistress Janet’s academy.

Like children everywhere, Janice and I wanted to try every delicious offering on the table but I found to my surprise, that my tummy simply could not accommodate them. After only two little pastries and a glass of apple juice, my tummy seemed completely full and I could not face another morsel. Auntie Beverly noticed my inability to ‘fill my face’ and she walked around the table to ask solicitously.

“What’s the matter Petal? Are you off your food?”

I replied that I felt fine and would love to have tasted some of the delicious cake and trifle that was on offer but somehow my tummy seemed too full.

“Oh dear,” replied Auntie Bev, “I do hope you’re not sickening for something.”

She then turned to my sister Janice.”

“Are you alright darling?”

“Yes mummy, fine,” replied Janice as she savoured a huge portion of the deliciously decorated trifle.

I looked longingly at Janice's full trifle bowl and sighed with frustration. The trifle looked just so delicious but my tummy simply refused to countenance another iota of food. It was only then that I noticed all the other sissies had finished eating whilst only the real girls and adults continued indulging themselves. I was puzzled by the situation for normally I could have eaten Janice under the table.

Instead I simply sat reflectively and exchanged wan smiles with the other sissies until everybody had eaten their fill and we retired from the table to play party games.
Naturally, the games turned out to be girlish parlour games as we giggled and minced around the room trying to complete silly tasks or find hidden prizes. Finally, there was a quiz and I excelled myself by winning easily.

Auntie Bev was very proud of me and gave me a terrific hug as I eagerly unwrapped my prize. It turned out to be the most deliciously frilly pair of panties with matching bra and teddy. They were the most beautiful creations I had ever seen and my little heart thumped with joy as I pleaded to Auntie Bev.

“Oh, please Auntie, plee-ase! Can I try them on now?”

“Not yet darling, it takes too long to unfasten your corsets. You can try them on when you go to bed.”

“But nobody else will be able to admire them,” I protested childishly.

“Why of course they will darling. Have you forgotten that you’re all sleeping over tonight?”

“Oh! No! I’d completely forgotten!” I gasped with joy as my eyes widened with delight. “What, all of us?”

“Yes Petal. Victoria’s mummy has a special bedroom with lots of big beds. You’ll be sharing with Janice, Jemima and Angelica.”

The idea of sharing a big bed with lots of friends got me really excited and now I couldn’t wait to go to bed. It had always been fun when I was allowed to share with Janice for we had cuddled up close and whispered our secrets to each other until sleep overtook us. Now there would be four of us giggling and chattering away I realised it was going to be wonderful. There would be all sorts of new stories and secrets to share. I smiled at Jemima and Angelica and their returned smiles reflected their excitement.

We continued playing more games until fairly late in the evening while Victoria’s daddy washed the dishes and generally tidied away the party remains. Later as I was looking for a hiding place for the game of ‘hide-and-seek’, I overheard him talking quietly to Aunty Bev.

“Your little Michelle did well in the quiz.”

I realised they were talking about me.

“Yes,” replied Auntie Bev, “she’s as bright as a button.”

“So you’ll not be bimboising her.”

“Oh no. That would be such a waste. She’s got an excellent little head on her shoulders.”

“It’s just as well she’s a natural sissy. We had to bimboise Jeremy to calm him down and get him back on the straight and narrow.

He was an absolute terror to the neighbourhood girls until he ended up in court for assault on the little girl across the street. Now they’re best of friends. Her parents think Jeremy has been sent away to a psychiatric institution and they have no idea that Jeremy is Jemima. They didn’t approve of Jeremy being sent away at first but in the end it brought peace to the whole street and they were compelled to agree that it was for the general good of all the little girls in the street. They still think that Jeremy’s locked away.

The parent’s mentality was that the punishment fitted the crime and Jeremy deserves to be shut away. They would have had him castrated if they could.
It’s much more humane doing it this way. Jemima’s free to come and go but she’s utterly incapable of any violence now. Besides having changed her nature, she’s physically incapable of being violent. She just hasn’t the strength. She’s a lot more manageable and she’s on her way to be coming a perfectly domesticated sissy. What plans have you for Michelle?”

“Oh it’s early days yet. She wants to be a sissy but there’s plenty of time to decide. She’s only ten.”

“A natural sissy.” Mused Victoria’s daddy. “That’s just perfectly delightful. I’m a natural transvestite but I’m a heterosexual and quite comfortable with my condition. I work mainly from home and from a small office in the city. My assistant is a tolerant woman who I informed of my transvestism before I employed her. She understands that I’m totally loyal to my wife.”

“Yes. I’ve heard that. I wish I could find a husband as loyal as you. Portia and Victoria are very lucky to have such a caring man about the house. Do you always go en-femme?”

“Not all the time, but I’m doing it more and more as people in the street get to know me. When they ask about Jeremy I say that I’m fully in favour of such boys being locked away and glad that he’s out of our hair. They nod sanctimoniously and agree. It’s surprising how cruel the so-called middle class intellectuals can be. The assault was little more than boyish curiosity, all he did was lift the girl’s skirt for a dare but her parents blew it up out of all proportion. He was a wild thing though so perhaps it’s for the best.”

“Are you keeping Jemima entire?” Asked Auntie Bev.

“Yes. She might want children one day. We have no right to take that away from her.”

“She’ll have to find a very special wife then.”

“You mean like I found Portia.”

Auntie Bev smiled and nodded.

“More like she found you. Good men are harder to find; at least that is, caring, sharing men.”

“Well thank you. Actually, Portia saw me and approached me in the club where I was doing a little comedy routine en-femme. She said that making her laugh was the most important step. After that came her acceptance of my transvestism.
Now can you hold these steps steady while I put the trifle bowl away on the top shelf? We won’t be using it again before Christmas.”

Auntie Bev steadied the steps as Victoria’s daddy struggled to climb up them in her pencil slim skirt. She had to hold onto my Auntie Beverly's shoulders to steady herself then finally straightened herself up and wobbled precariously as she reached up to replace the trifle bowl on the very highest shelf. As I peeped through the crack of the door hinge I noticed that Auntie Bev could not resist taking a peek up Victoria’s daddy’s skirt. He caught her in the act and giggled.

“Naughty, naughty! What would Portia say?”

“You’ve got nice taste in panties.” Countered my auntie as her face crimsoned.

“Well Portia chooses them. She helps me with all my shopping. Mature transvestites tend to dress like tarts unless a good woman takes them in hand.”

“My brother Penny and her partner Jamie do very well without a woman’s touch.” Riposted Auntie Bev.

Victoria’s daddy snorted with mirthful contempt.

“Yes but you must agree, Penny’s a screaming homosexual; though I must agree, she’s got excellent feminine tastes. Jamie takes all her clothing advice from Penny. Did you know Jamie’s bi-sexual?”

“Good gracious no!” Gasped my Auntie Bev. But, but, - I mean, - she lives totally en-femme.”

“I know she does, and she does it very well.” Continued Victoria’s daddy. “But she’s still bisexual. One night, Jamie told my wife Portia that she would love to find a good woman like Portia. A woman who would tolerate her feminine side and accept her relationship with your brother Penny.”

My Auntie Bev fell silent as Victoria’s daddy stepped down off the steps. He sensed her silence and smiled knowingly.

“Jamie’s not a bad catch you know. She’s heir to a title and a huge estate. She’s a nice person as well.”

“I know all that,” nodded my aunt, “Jamie’s been my next door neighbour since we were children. We’ve grown up together. I just never thought.”

Auntie Bev mused softly as Victoria’s daddy folded the steps.

“Jamie. Oh my God! It’s just so obvious. I’ve always wanted a man like my brother, why it would be just perfect!”

“You’d better check with Penny first. It wouldn’t be fair to hurt her feelings or make her jealous.”

“Oh Penny and I are too close to be jealous of each other. Penny would love to have some more nieces and nephews. She adores Michelle and Janice.”

“Well, sound Penny out, see if she’s agreeable. At least Penny knows you. She knows you’re tolerant of gays and stuff. It could work, like a sort of reverse ménage-a-trois.”

My Auntie Bev giggled just as Angelica spotted me peeping through the doorjamb. Angelica was ‘it’ and she squealed her victory as she minced frantically back to the den and counted me out. Angelica’s squeal had alerted Auntie Bev and Victoria’s daddy to the presence of somebody in the hall and they stopped talking. Fortunately they still had not realised that I had been behind the kitchen door, nor did they realise I had heard everything. As I minced back to the ‘den’ I was too engrossed in what I’d heard to bother about having been caught. The idea of Auntie Bev marrying Uncle Penny’s girlfriend Jamie intrigued me.
Then the game took over my thoughts, as I became the next seeker for I had been discovered first. This was essentially because I had not bothered to hide as I eves-dropped on my Auntie and Victoria’s dad.

The game of ‘hide-and-seek’ proved to be a success, mainly because there could be no wild or desperate charges to make it to the den without being caught. Our corsets ensured that we had to mince demurely whilst our pursuer was equally constrained. This ineffectual mincing stricture contributed immensely to the fun of the game as our frustrations were enhanced and our efforts made ludicrous. The adults found it uproariously funny to see their children wiggling and mincing feverishly as they struggled to avoid capture and reach the safety of the den first.

I had to confess the corsets had turned the whole game into a comical parody of my previous experiences of hide and seek. The comedy made it all the more enjoyable.
Sadly, all fun has to end. The evening had been voted a huge success and by eleven o’clock it was time for good little sissies to be in bed. This time however, bedtime was not seen as some sort of ordeal. Bedtime would simply be a further extension of the evenings fun as we were all de-corseted, toileted, showered and then re-corseted in our night corsets.

Showering proved to be a most interesting time for me for we all showered communally in a large shower downstairs, that is girls and sissies together mind! It came as a shock to realise that I had the biggest pee-pee even though I was the youngest sissy there. It seemed that Mistress Janet’s sissies were all afflicted with the ‘tiny pee-pee syndrome, just like Miranda was in Miss Stern’s shop. I had yet to learn about the effects of hormones.

I was not that conceited about having the biggest stiffy though, because all the older sissies had beautiful breasts and I so wanted to have such a delightful pair. Indeed, fourteen-year-old Jemima seemed to have largest breasts of all. They were bigger than her sixteen year older sister Victoria’s and even bigger than Angelica’s seventeen-year-old sister Sophia’s. Though strangely, neither Sophia nor Victoria seemed that upset by the fact.

After secretly checking out and comparing our anatomies, we were dried and quickly made modest again as Auntie Bev, Mistress Portia and even Victoria’s daddy prepared us for bed as they dressed us in our all-in-one silky sleep suites then laced us firmly into our and knee-length, night corsets.

By the time we were ready for bed, it was impossible for anybody to get intimate with anybody else and to reinforce this condition, we were all neatly padlocked into our corsets. Any emergency calls of nature in the night would necessitate a call upon the adults to unlock us. I was ever so glad I hadn’t been hungry during the birthday tea.

What I was looking forward to however, was the táªte-á -táªte that Janice and I could have with Jemima and Angelica. Oh what lovely secrets would we share I wondered as a visceral thrill rippled through my tightly corseted body.