Author's Note: This is a bit of a transition chapter--it takes some unexpected twists that not all will like. These are necessary to tie some pieces together in later chapters.

The rest of the week is comparatively slow compared to the beginning. I settle into my place as a full team member on the cheer squad—although, we have to practice in the gym until the field can be fully inspected and ‘de-gophered’.

Alecia calls me twice and is all excited about her stay here in a few weeks, when we have fall break.

Madame Pratt intensifies her torture of my poor body…

Momma and Mummy continue working with the legal team in all-out prep for the case, since there is no absolute guarantee when it will happen. It will likely be months, but COULD be next week for all we know.
The ‘reds’ are eerily quiet; the ‘greens’ are slowly growing in number—at the exact pace that Brenda can make the bracelets. The funds from the donations and proceeds from the sales are quickly growing and I have narrowed down the organizations to choose from to donate them to.

So, I get up on Saturday and look forward to the afternoon—Francie is coming home for the night! I quickly get dressed and go downstairs around 8:30 to get some breakfast. Momma is already downstairs and sitting at the kitchen table with a fresh carafe of coffee on the table. She is just pouring a cup.

She says, “Good morning, Love. Did you sleep well?”

I nod and get a cup for myself—then pour some of the steaming heaven into it.

Momma smiles and says, “Angi is sleeping in. How about we have some French Toast—like in the old days. Just us two?”

I smile and say, “That sounds great!”

Momma says, “Misty has even learned to make it right!”

My face falls a bit—I am not convinced of that.

Momma giggles at my face and says, “No, really.” She pushes a virtual button on her phone and Misty comes in a couple of minutes later.

She says, “Yes, Mistress?”

Momma looks at her and says, “Paige and I would like French Toast for breakfast. Make sure it is done right, this morning, Misty.”

I look at her. She is in a submissive stance—almost cowering. She is further feminized even than when I saw her yesterday morning (the last time I saw her). Her hair is now in a feminine ‘page-boy’ style—going towards a slight shag. It has obvious highlights in it. She is also wearing obvious women’s pumps with four-inch stiletto heels. Otherwise, she is in her normal female clothing that is more on the androgynous side.

She actually curtseys and says, “Yes, Mistress,” and moves quickly to start our breakfast.

I shake my head and Momma continues our conversation as if this were the most normal thing in the world. She says, “What are your plans today, Love? I know that Francie is coming in late this afternoon—I thought maybe we could go shopping? I need to pick up some things…and it looks like you could maybe use some new bras…”

I laugh—my bras ARE getting a little on the smallish side. My blooming breasts are having a harder and harder time staying confined in the cups. My nipples are still growing, as well as my areolae…there is no hiding anything now…

I nod and say, “OK, Momma. That sounds like fun. Are we waiting for Mummy—or is it just us?”

Momma laughs and says, “I love it when you call her ‘Mummy’—I’m so glad you and her get along so well. Why don’t we see if she is awake when we’re ready and play it by ear?”

I nod and Misty places a plate of hot French Toast in front of us each. To my surprise, it is quite good! I say, “This is wonderful, Misty. Great job!”

She smiles in spite of herself. Momma just says, “Yes, Misty, it’ll do. You may go back to your cleaning, now…”

When she is gone, I look at Momma with a frown and ask, “Was that called for?”

Momma just looks at me and says, “Sweetie, I love you, you know that—but you need to leave Misty to me. I know you don’t agree—or understand—but there IS a method to this particular madness… Trust me, Love.”

I sigh and shake my head—and finish my breakfast. I really hate the way Momma and Mummy treat Misty, but, then again it is not as if she were a good person, either… And SOMETHING must be happening—this French Toast is GREAT! Not something that Allen would have been able to do…

We finish our breakfast and leave the plates for Misty to clean up. Mummy is still asleep, so we go out to Momma’s Mercedes and she lets me drive. Thirty minutes later, we are getting out at the mall and going into Victoria’s Secret.

I am measured for new bras and discover that I am now nearly a C-cup. Close enough that the salesgirl recommends I go ahead and get that size rather than the B++ that I would otherwise need. It seems clear that I am still ‘developing’ and will likely ultimately need the larger size.

I pick out several bras and matching thong panties. I take them to the register and nearly choke when Momma comes over with a really sexy corset. I waggle my eyebrows at her and she laughs. She just says, “Misty asked for it…”

I look at her and she seems serious, so I just let it drop as she pays. We walk through the mall and I get a couple pair of heels and two dresses. As we are walking back towards the car, I can’t quit thinking about that sexy corset…

Finally, I say, “Momma, do you think I’m too young for a corset and garters?”

She stops dead in her tracks and looks at me. She sits down heavily on a nearby bench and says, “Now, that is something I NEVER expected to hear from my only child! I guess you really ARE becoming a young woman, Paige.”

She looks at me seriously for a couple of long minutes, then says, “Well, if you weren’t with Francie…and I didn’t know you two so well, I would say ABSOLUTELY! But, under the circumstances…”

She gets up and smiles as she leads me back into Victoria’s Secret.

A half an hour later, we are back in her car and I am driving home. I can’t WAIT until we go out tonight and then bedtime…

I groan—in very small breaths as Mummy pulls the corset tight. I have about thirty minutes to finish getting ready before Francie gets here.

Mummy giggles and says, “Are you sure you want me to keep on?”

I groan and choke out, “Yes! I can’t believe I talked myself into this thing, but it will be worth it, right?”

Mummy pulls the strings tighter and says, “Yes, you WILL get used to it, but I’m not sure I understand WHY you want it?”

I take a shallow breath—there isn’t enough room for anything more. She pulls some more and I whisper, “I…I…I don’t know. It just seems…SEXY. Don’t you think?”

Mummy giggles and says, “Well, yes, I’ll have to admit it is. It seems your hormones are in full bloom, young lady. It’s a good thing I know your girlfriend very well! I think I may have to rethink you having to wait until you’re sixteen for that special prosthetic vagina…”

She tugs one final time and I feel really faint. She ties the corset off and I struggle to breathe.

Mummy says, “Breathe from your chest, Love—shallow breaths, but from up top. There isn’t any way to breathe with your lower abdomen like you’re used to. It’s a matter of retraining yourself.”

I nod and focus on my breathing. It gets better—not good, but BETTER.

She says, “If you’re really serious about wearing these torture devices, we need to get you a training corset to wear—you will have to wear it as much as possible. Even sleep in it to get your body shaped and conditioned for it.”

I look in the mirror and like the look of my waist being pulled in the full three inches it is by the corset. I nod and say, “I think I want to. I like this look!”

Mummy shakes her head and helps me get my stockings on and attached to the garters on the corset. Then she helps me into my new dress. It is JUST long enough to cover the garters, but the tops of my stockings peek out as I move and look really sexy. Finally, she helps me into my five-inch stilettos and I practice walking in the corset.

Because it is so stiff, there is really no way I can bend. It is also harder to balance because everything has shifted. Ballet has corrected my posture immensely—this forces me to stand ram-rod straight. Madame Pratt would be proud.

The side effect I was not really expecting is that the area that is compressed from my waist is compressed UP. My almost C-cups look every bit like exploding D-cups—the cleavage is awesome, though!

I sit and practice breathing while Mummy goes to finish getting ready. Momma is already downstairs and waiting. I hear the doorbell and Francie and Momma talking after a few minutes and hurry to the stairs. Getting down them is a BIT more work than normal, but the effort is worth it when I see both Momma’s AND Francie’s expressions.

Francie comes over and hugs me…squeezing what little air I CAN get in out. She giggles at my ‘oof’ and Momma says, “I’m not sure I can go out with a sexy doll like you, Hon. You’ll make us ALL pale in comparison.”

“Speak for yourself, Love,” comes from the stairs. We look around and Mummy is full-on in competition with me—just without the corset.

Francie laughs and says, “WELL! We’ll just see about this!”

She disappears up the stairs to get ready and Momma shakes her head and says, “Well…give me a minute to change…”

When the four of us leave for our dinner reservation at one of the most sought after restaurants in the region, there is no doubt that we are oozing with femininity and, for whatever reason, I feel really good about myself.

Of course, we turn a lot of (male) heads when we get out of Momma’s Mercedes and confidently stroll into the restaurant. The male servers fall all over themselves trying to impress us…and we just smile. All in all, it is a wonderful supper. Of course, I become the designated driver…

When we get back home, it is late. Momma and Mummy go straight upstairs. I look at Francie—we BOTH know they are going to THE room. While we both know what is IN that room, we keep that knowledge to ourselves. I can’t help but think about what it would be like to be able use the ‘toys’ in that room, though…

I look at Francie and give her a Frenchie. She giggles and says, “Well, it seems you’re adjusting to that corset…”

I giggle back and say, “Well, I wouldn’t go THAT far—do you like it?”

Francie says, “Like it? Are you kidding? It’s the sexiest thing I’ve seen in all my life!”

And before I know what is happening, we are upstairs in her room… My thong is on the floor…and I am bent from the waist over her bed. My stockings are still clipped into my garters and I am still in my heels… My dress is over by my thong.

Francie says, “I promised not to do this until you were sixteen—but, I think your hormones have overtaken your age. I know *I* can’t wait any more than you right now seeing you like this…”

I look over my shoulder as she straps on a dildo.

She says, “It’s ironic, isn’t it? I have a shrunken and useless REAL one of these under my fake vagina…and I’m strapping on a FAKE one…”

She kisses and caresses me…plays with my bared nipples…lubes the dildo…and presses.

It is the most painful thing I have ever felt as she (gently) pushes into me. Soon after she is completely up against my ass, the dildo completely in me, I am rocking with her and moaning. It doesn’t take long and I feel a mini-super nova start radiating inside me…and spreading…and spreading…and getting stronger…and stronger…and spreading…and going on…and on…and spreading…

I barely hear her heavy breathing and moaning behind me, but somehow realize she is having an orgasm at the same time I am.

When I finally come down from that wonderful high, I collapse on the bed and she carefully pulls out. My ass hurts badly, but it is SO worth it!

Finally, I roll over and say, “That was SO beautiful! But, how did you…?”

She smiles and says, “My prosthetic is ‘special’ remember? It can simulate things—or maybe ‘stimulate’ is the better word?” She giggles and I smile—happily spent.

I ask, “Where did you get…?”

She puts a finger to her lips and whispers, “Let’s hope they don’t miss it!”

Francie gets the dildo back into THE room without being noticed early the next morning. As far as we know, without it being missed.

I can’t be sure, though. Momma and Mummy both give us these ‘looks’ throughout the day. Of course, I have a bit more sway to my walk because of my REALLY sore ass… That could be a give-away. Whatever the case, neither one of them say anything.

Misty makes a decent breakfast. I can’t help but notice that her waist is pulled in significantly. It is pretty clear to me that she has the corset on—I bet if she took off her pants, that there would be gartered stockings there for all to see.

I sit there, in reverie of last night. I wish Francie and I could just go back upstairs. That lust only gets stronger when Momma and Mummy DO go upstairs after they finish eating.

Francie and I had come down in our bikinis and just go to the pool. Misty has put out towels by the loungers. There is also a bottle of lotion. Summer is coming to an end, but the sun is really nice today, so I slather lotion all over Francie and she on me.

I notice as I put the lotion in my hands that it sort of tingles. As Francie rubs it into me, the tingling spreads all over my body. It doesn’t feel bad—sort of good, actually. I ask Francie, “What is that lotion? Is it making you tingle, too?”

She nods and says, “It sort of feels good…” She looks at the bottle and says, “It’s some sort of herbal stuff… It says to repeat often…”

We both shrug and lay back on the loungers with a book. The tingling wears off after a bit…and we rub more lotion into each other. We repeat the cycle fairly often. The tingling lessons with each application—and lasts a shorter period each time.

After several hours, Misty comes out and asks, “Are the Misses ready for lunch?”

We both nod and enjoy the sandwiches and chips. Momma and Mummy are nowhere in sight. When we are done, Misty places a bowl of mints on the table and Francie and I both take one. I place it in my mouth and let it dissolve on my tongue. It tastes wonderful—and I get a tingly feeling all over my body, again.

I notice a happy look on Francie’s face, too, as we both reach and take a second mint. It doesn’t take long and the mints are gone and it is time for Francie to get ready to go.

I hug her hard as she gets ready to go out the door and to her car. I notice a slight tremble in my hand and think that I really am going to miss her—I am already trembling because of it. I wave as she drives off and go up to my room.

I look at my vanity and see a little box laid out on it. I go over and open the card on top. I read, Don’t tell your Moms. This is our little secret—so don’t let’s even talk about it. I love you! F”

I open the box and a mist wafts up to my face. I breathe it in—and feel all tingly. I want to keep that feeling going…I want more…

I look in the box and am surprised to see an e-cig device and several cartridges with a clear liquid in them. Curious, I take the device out of the box. It is loaded with a cartridge. I notice the on-off switch and switch it to ‘on’.

I don’t know why, but I take a puff off of the device—it just seems the right thing to do even though I HATE anything to do with smoking. I involuntarily inhale deeply as my need for THAT feeling takes over… I continue greedily puffing until the cartridge is empty.

I find myself wondering why Francie would do this…get me hooked on some unknown substance… All I know is that I am not going to say anything—if nothing else, I can only hope she will give me more cartridges if I keep quiet…until I can figure out what this is all about.

I don’t see Misty disposing of the empty lotion bottle and the empty ‘mint’ bowl with a smile on her face.