Chapter 12 goes into detail about aduse and control of abusive boys being turned into sissies.
Some might wonder why I, a child abused similarly in Borstal, might even go near such material.
I have no certain idea why I wrote this exceedingly dark chapter, but at the time it seemed to have some theraputic, carthatic function. I felt anger and frustration as well as guilt when I wrote this chapter and I seriously debated including chapter 12 on BC, especially after some of the reactions to my blog about the 'Sissy Word'

Never having gone near a psychiatrist since escaping their clutches as a teen-ager, I have no idea how or why I wrote this chapter. It is extremely explicit and very, very dark.
I had some issues posting it here and may yet remove it if it hurts too many. However, after crashing into one continuity catastrophy with the later chapters 22 to 26, it's too much effort to re-write and exclude this chapter.

If such abuse and violence distresses you, I advise you not to read it. When I wrote this chapter orignally, I sat alone for hours and cried for hours but, in my own bizarre world, I deemed those tears theraputic. (It seemed that way anyway.)
You will note that the abuses are translated to abusive boys who had been abusers, a sort of transferred requittal in my own mind to somehow punish those who will never be punished.

I won't say 'enjoy' for many won't; that is if they choose to read through it at all. Also,despite the good advice offered to me about delaying each post up to three days, I want to get through some of these chapters early and get the story 'out of the way'

I haven't included a picture of Sushi in this chapter. I feel I would be dishonouring her innocence and affections by somehow attaching her in any way to such a dark chapter.

If this chapter causes distress, please tell me and if enough readers do so then maybe I'll take it down.

Beverly.

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The Sissy Farm

Chapter 12

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.

New Arrivals.

After visiting the sissy herd so early in the morning, we returned to our rooms for an hour’s prep before breakfast. This was to ensure that the entire sissy herd had been milked and that all the pupils arrived at the same time for breakfast.
This turned out to be a very substantial meal. Even sissies were allowed to eat plenty of food including a small portion of bacon. I was fascinated by the amount of food that Julia packed away and wondered just how she managed to keep such a trim waist. Between shovelled mouthfuls Julia explained.

“It’s the milking darling. It makes huge demands on our sissified bodies. You’ll understand when it comes to your turn.
Our metabolisms are accelerated with special lactation hormones and we have to consume at least three thousand calories a day to meet our milk quotas.”

“Gosh! Doesn’t that wear you out or something?” I gasped.

“Oh no! It’s a lovely feeling. Just you wait darling. It’s just so much fun.” With that, I was surprised to see the senior girls going along the tables and handing the sissies several large chocolate covered biscuits. The milking sissies eagerly took them and devoured them with relish.”

“What are those?” I asked Julia.

“Milk biscuits.” She replied between biting and chewing the biscuits “Just like farmers feed high protein dairy nuts to their cattle, so we have these. They’re very tasty.”

“Ooh! Can I try one?”

“Sorry love,” replied Julia, “ these are important to keep up my milk production. If I fail to produce my quota, my milking friend Alison will suffer as well as me. We can’t let each other down.”

I nodded understandingly as Sylvia, our girl companion, gave a little sniff and giggled.

“What are you laughing at,” I asked her.

“Huh. You’ll see. Just wait until you’re turned into a dairy queen. They all turn out the same. Dumb and horny.”
Julia wagged ger head and smiled at me.

“Don’t you believe her darling. She’s only a second year girl. She doesn’t know anything about being in the dairy heard. If you want a girl’s point of view, speak to Charlotte and Lucy. They’re very contented senior girls but extremely bright. They just like being milked.”

“But what about Jacqueline and Rosanna.” I continued. “Sylvia’s right about those two. They really are like two cows.”

“Ah yes,” agreed Julia, “but they were bovinised as soon as they came into milk. They really were a most distasteful pair of young thugs. They got what they deserved. Besides, they’re extremely happy now. Just ask them sometime. They’re a perfectly delightful couple now.”

“Yes. Everybody says that.”

“Well speak to them tonight in the common room.” Replied Julia as she finished her last chocolate covered milk biscuit. “They can always be found staring at the television. They don’t do much prep. ‘The ‘Janet and John’ reading books are about the limit of their academic aspiration and they even find that difficult. OK for six-year-old’s but hardly what one expects from two seventeen-year-old sissies.

They were both pretty thick even before they came here. Come on, it’s nearly nine o’clock.” Observed Julia as she rose gracefully from her seat. “The new intake of naughty sissies will be arriving soon. We have to provide a reception committee.”
Sylvia and I followed Julia into the great hall were we were sorted into our classes and grades prior to witnessing the arrival of that year’s intake of naughty sissies, that is boys who were being sent here to be punished and transformed. Once we had been assembled and graded into classes, the whole school was led in neat, obedient crocodiles down to the huge stable block that had once served the old country house. Obviously, the old landed gentry who had previously owned the house had been keen appreciators of horses. The stable block was almost as big as the old country house itself. Finally we were lined up in orderly formations and ordered to wait.

We did not have to wait long. A convoy of three buses threaded their way slowly through the school gates and gently scuffed their way up the long gravel drive. The drivers then carefully threaded their buses through the narrow arched gateway into the old stable block and the buses eventually came to a stop in the old stable yard. Immediately, the prefects closed and locked the huge gates and the stable courtyard had now become a virtual prison.

Mistress Janet emerged from a door connecting the stable block to the old country house, - now the main schoolhouse.
Arranged like phalanxes either side of her were two rows of the mistresses and they marched purposefully towards the buses.
She had obviously arrived to conduct the proceedings and she took a prominent position in front of the three buses. She and all the other mistresses each held a short riding crop in their hands. Their obvious objective was to intimidate the occupants of the buses.

For long moments, nothing seemed to happen, then, slowly, a frilly blue dress, identical in style to our pink and green dresses, appeared at the top of the steps inside the bus. The owner of the dress was obviously terrified and it was another few seconds before the owner’s face appeared in view.

I was surprised. The person was quite obviously a boy. He had short hair, well-muscled legs, and a very tearful countenance. Apart from the tears and the frilly dress, he could hardly be described as a sissy. He was every inch a boy in a dress, and a very reluctant boy at that. Nevertheless, his delightfully frilly dress and lacy, knee-length bloomers declared him to be a sissy. Eventually, after some coaxing and prodding from some person behind him, he reluctantly started to alight from the bus.

This was obviously a perilous exercise because he was obviously very tightly corseted and he could hardly part his knees at all. Each step down off the bus was fraught with disaster and he clung like a limpet to the handrail. After he had descended two perilous steps, his tormentor, - a senior girl in a pink frilly dress, appeared behind him with a sort of stick. As the boy hesitated before taking the final uncertain step to the ground she urged him to hurry.

“Come along you stupid sissy. There’s a whole busload behind you waiting to get off.”

So saying, she waved the stick thing at the boy as she pressed a button on the handle. The boy let out a terrified shriek then jerked spasmodically as he lost his balance and collapsed off the step to end up as a twitching, paralysed bundle of frills and lace at the foot of the bus’s steps. There he lay for several long seconds in shock, whilst screaming and kicking his legs feebly before struggling impotently to try and stand again. His corset obviously prevented any hope of him getting to his own feet and he was forced to lie, straight backed on the ground kicking while squealing helplessly until the senior girl and her accompanying ‘good sissy’ companion helped him to his feet. Eventually the boy stood dazed and blubbering as he clung onto the bus handrail to recover what little composure he could find.

As the boy stood wobbling unsteadily and trembling from whatever shock he had received from the stick thing, the girl spoke to the other occupants of the bus.

“Let that be a lesson to you. Any disobedience invites immediate punishment. Now move!!”

Slowly, the other befrocked boys emerged from inside the bus and cautiously clasped the handrails as they tried every which way to descend the steps without losing their balance. It was an extremely tricky task. Their corsets were obviously much tighter, stiffer and longer than ours and the steps of the bus were higher than ordinary stairs. The boys had to virtually lower themselves down the handrail until they reached terra firma then cautiously release the handrail and mince forward carefully to form a demoralised rank in front of Mistress Janet. After the first bus was disembarked, the senior girl, who was obviously a bus prefect, tapped smartly on the door of the second bus and another girl unlocked the door from inside. The previous scene repeated itself as another cargo of terrified, demoralised boys gradually emerged and struggled to descend the steps. The last person off was the senior sissy who appeared as nothing more than a decorative companion to the bus prefect.

“Are they all off?” Demanded the bus prefect.

“Yes mistress,” lisped the senior sissy who courtesied in total submission to her mistress.

The scene was repeated again at the third bus, but this bus only had a handful of passengers. The rear section of this bus was loaded up with luggage. To my surprise and concern however, I recognised two of the boys as the ones who had attacked me in the park during the summer holidays. Fortunately, they were too preoccupied with getting down off the bus to notice me.
Finally, all the terrified boys were drawn up in three ranks in front of Mistress Janet while the three girl bus prefects stood menacingly close fingering the control buttons on their cattle prods. The three senior sissies who had accompanied the bus prefects simply stood submissively to one side. Whatever duty they had, it was obviously subservient to the girls.

I suspected the senior sissy’s main function was to illustrate to the boys what their final destiny was to be, a perfectly compliant, obedient, submissive little sissy.

‘Lucky boys,’ I thought.

Once the situation became calm, Mistress Janet addressed the boys.

“You all know why you’re here. You have all committed serious sexual offences so you have been sent here for correction and punishment. Any misdemeanours will be treated with the harshest punishment while more serious offences will result in more permanent treatments. You will be kept here until you are eighteen. By then you will have been turned into useful, co-operative, obedient, compliant and productive members of society.

At the moment though, you are just trash. You have demonstrated that you are trash by the offences you have committed. You’re antisocial attitudes will be exorcised and eventually you will each be turned into something useful. The mistresses will now take you away and start your instruction.”

With that, the bus prefects raised their ‘cattle prods’ and the boys lurched as one in the direction Mistress Janet had indicated with one swift sweep of her arm. The rest of us watched them disappear into the stable block and the huge double doors slammed shut behind them. Julia, who was standing immediately behind me, whispered in my ear.

“You won’t see them again for at least a month.”

“Why not?” I asked, half anticipating her answer.

“It takes about a month to break them.” She explained.

“How do they do that?” I asked.

“Oh they’ve got dozens of different ways.” Julia replied as she gave a fearful little shudder. “Every boy is different but believe me, when they come out again, they’re well on the road to being sissified!”

I was afraid to ask if Julia had ever been in the stable block, but I suspected she had. Her demeanour seemed to point to her knowing all about the stable block. I had already learned that if a naughty sissy earned enough brownie points and convinced the mistresses that she had truly become a contented, voluntary sissy, she could, after a few years, graduate to a green frock and enjoy the extra privileges.

This seemed to be the route that Julia had taken. I did not press her further about it. The whole experience of the naughty boy’s reception seemed to disturb her and she was too sweet a sissy to deserve being hurt. I decided to ask Victoria or Sophia about it later.

Once the stable block doors had slammed shut, the yard became quiet as the rest of the school returned to what was to become their school routine. Janice and I were in the same class for most subjects and we were led away by a mistress to commence our academic lessons.

At lunchtime, Julia did not appear so I ate alone with Sylvia. When I wondered about Julia’s absence from our table, she smirked and looked around before replying.

“Look around. The whole of Julia’s year is missing.”

I realised they were and frowned uncertainly as Sylvia added waspishly.

“They’re probably tied up with the sissy reception thing. I notice all the prefects are missing as well.”

This observation convinced me that Sylvia might be right. We also both noticed that the second year sissies were particularly nervous whilst serving out the food for the senior girls had been delegated to the butt plug control roll. I noticed both Victoria and Sophia fingering their ‘zappers’ as they and the other senior girls checked to see that none of the second year sissies faltered in their serving roll as they dished out the food.

I saw poor Angelica trembling fearfully as she tried to ladle out the soup and I took a leaf from Julia’s book. As she stood to my side, I gently steadied her hand with mine and guided it carefully to my bowl. Angelica smiled gratefully but our efforts were to be quickly nullified. Sylvia had no such sympathies for a sissy and she deliberately brushed Angelica’s arm just as she was tilting the soup ladle. Some soup spilled onto the tablecloth and the blunder was immediately spotted by Angelica’s older sister Sophia.

Sophia obviously did not want to punish her younger sissified brother but the rules required it. Reluctantly, Sophia activated the zapper and sent a powerful burst of electricity through Angelica’s butt plug. Poor Angelica let out a squeal of pain and almost dropped the large metal soup duchy.

Fortunately she managed to land it heavily on the table before collapsing in pain and writhing on the floor as the butt plug punished her cruelly. Sylvia would have been amused if she hadn’t been splashed on the arm by the hot soup bouncing out of the duchy. She also let out a squeal of pain then scolded Angelica for her stupidity. Poor Angelica had no right of appeal.

Sylvia was a girl with all the privileges that the school rules endowed her whilst Angelica was just a naughty sissy. A sub species, with no rights whatever over a girl. As Angelica lay sobbing on the floor, Sylvia continued to scold Angelica, then ordered her to get up and continue doing her duty.

“Get up you stupid sissy. The others are waiting to be served, can’t you see?”

Angelic scrabbled helplessly on the floor for her corset was far too tight and she had no hope of getting to her feet unaided. I looked around uncertainly.

‘Was I entitled to offer Angelica some help, or was this another rite of humiliation?’ I wondered.

After several seconds had passed I could not stand to see Angelica in distress any more. I rose from my chair as gracefully as I could and bobbed down to offer Angelica my hand. Nobody seemed to object or protest although Sylvia stared daggers at me. With no objections forthcoming, Angelic gratefully took my hand and finally got back on her feet. To my surprise I felt a painful jolt in my arm and realised I had just conducted some of the electricity from Angelica. It gave my arm a nasty jolt and I squeaked with fright as I pulled my arm away to leave Angelica still squirming and writhing as she gasped and moaned with fear and pain. The butt plug was still punishing her, although the force was obviously decreasing.

I sat down again self-consciously feeling many staring eyes upon me, but the only stare that mattered to me, was Angelica’s tearful stare of gratitude. I was to learn later that it was unsafe for somebody to touch or support a sissy who was being punished by the electric shock up her butt. The second person could act as a sort of super-conductor and receive and even stronger shock. I had been lucky; the capacitor in Angelica’s butt plug had already discharged the bulk of its charge.
I was also to learn later that the motion of the sissy’s exaggerated wiggle recharged the butt-plug’s batteries. Each butt-plug had a largish cock section invading the sissy’s butt-hole to a depth of nearly a foot. Inside this section there were motion sensors that generated electricity and recharged the butt-plug’s capacitor and batteries.

Angelica’s wiggling motion caused a segmented, spherical commutator to roll within the permanent magnetic field of a stator fixed inside the main part of the plug. (The part that resembled an erect cock.) This generated more electricity so the whole design was a ‘self-perpetuating process. The butt-plug could vibrate and bring pleasure to the sissy or it could discharge a powerful jolt of higher voltage and leave the sissy in agony. The ‘Zapper’ in the senior girl’s hands controlled the butt-plug remotely. The senior girl therefore got to control the junior sissy completely. This was a double-edged process because whilst the little sissy was constantly in thrall to her butt-plug, the senior girl was constantly aware of her responsibilities to take care of the zapper. It prepared the girl for life as a mistress with life long responsibilities for her sissy’s welfare and control.

I also learned that the butt-plug was a virtual permanent fixture in every naughty sissy’s butt from the day she entered the school until the day she was promoted to a voluntary ‘good little sissy’. This could take anything from two years right up to leaving school. It was always a matter of some celebration when a ‘naughty sissy’ was promoted to a ‘good sissy’

When Mistress Janet and the staff made the decision, the chosen sissy was invited up onto the school stage during morning assembly and the butt-plug was ceremoniously removed in front of the whole school. The sissy was nearly always overcome with joy and relief and would tearfully accept the beautiful green presentation frock as a reward and badge of her new status.
Some sissies however, never had them removed, although as I got to learn more about being a sissy, I began to suspect that those sissies did not want them removed. They had probably become addicted to a butt-plug! I also knew that even if they did eventually qualify to have the punishment butt-plug removed, most of these particularly recalcitrant sissies had to continue wearing a ‘stopper’ because their sphincter muscles had become permanently ‘opened’. For the rest of their lives they had to seal their butt holes in some way.

Having a permanently opened anus however, did however make them much more amenable if they were destined for a life of pleasuring others. It also facilitated colonic irrigations and personal hygiene if they were very active in those pleasuring rolls. It was part life style choice and part force majure but more of that in later chapters.
During the rest of the school day Janice and I familiarised ourselves with the school routine and the timetable. We learned we would share most of the academic lessons but attend different life-style lessons. This was quite natural for I was destined to be a sissy and Janice was destined to be a mistress.

That evening at supper I noticed a large screen had been erected at one side close to the top table. Naturally I asked Julia.

“What’s that for Jule’s?” I whispered.

“It’s for the naughty sissies. Listen, they’re approaching now.”

Mistress Janet stood up, raised her hands and ordered.

“Silence!”

The hall fell silent and behind the screen I heard the irregular click of uncertain footfall. Julia smiled as she whispered.

“Listen. They’re not used to heels yet. They’re very unsteady on their dainty little feet.”

As it to confirm Julia’s words, there was a dull plop and the swish of a riding crop followed by a shrill whimper of despair. A sharp order followed.

“Get up you silly little sissy. Can’t you even walk properly?”

Another swish was followed by a shriek of pain and whoever had lost her footing was now wailing piteously.

“I can’t get up! It’s too stiff!”

“Oh for goodness’s sake you helpless, stupid thing. You two! Help her up!”

There was a muddled click of heels accompanied by very unladylike, breathless grunts as two other unseen sissies were ordered forward to help. After some gasps and squeaks of discomfort order was seemingly restored and the irregular click of heels resumed. It was only then that I discerned the soft tingling of metal. Once again I turned to Julia.

“What’s that jingling?”

“Ankle chains!” She whispered curtly. “Now stop asking questions or you’ll get us both punished.”

“Ankle chains!” I gasped.

“Ssshh!” Scolded Julia. “Be quiet!”

I took my cue and fell silent as the sharp eye of a mistress turned in our direction. I hoped she hadn’t heard or seen us.

Behind the screen a mistress’s voice was issuing instructions and I quickly realised they were instructions about how to sit on a bench when manacled together with ankle chains. Finally, there was a lot of shuffling and jingling of ankle chains followed the scrape of a bench and the despairing gasps of sissies whose corsets were too tight.

I did not need any imagination to realise what was happening. As the sissies were bending to sit, the vicious waists of the corsets would be digging hard into their plump waists and causing unmentionable discomfort.

Eventually the noises abated and Mistress Janet left her seat at top table to disappear behind the screen. To my surprise she spoke very softly to the new intake behind the screen but there was no doubting the real menace in her voice. I could not make out all the words but I could almost feel the fear issuing forth like waves from those seated out of sight behind the screen. Eventually, Mistress Janet stopped talking to the naughty sissies though she remained behind the screen. The Deputy mistress announced that the rest of the school could resume talking.

Immediately, a soft nervous murmur whispered around the hall as everybody fell to discussing the nature of the new intake. Naturally I pumped Julia for information just as every other first year girl or good sissy pumped her senior table partner. Julia smiled and explained with some relish.

“They are chained at the ankles so they cannot take large steps, then they are chained together just like a prisoner’s chain gang. They have to walk in co-ordinated crocodile or fall over. That’s probably what just happened. If they make genuine mistakes like tumbling over because they are new to heels, then they get switched with those horse crops. If their mistress deems that they made a mistake through deliberate misbehaviour then they get a jolt up their butts. That really hurts and they soon learn that it doesn’t pay to be naughty.”

I grimaced thoughtfully but Sylvia gloated.

“I can’t wait to be a mistress. I’ll show those little horrors what it means to hurt a girl.”

This was the first inkling I got of Sylvia’s past. There was obviously something dark and sinister lying there untold but it was not my place to pry. I was only a sissy; Sylvia was a girl! Girls had far more privileges.

We settled down to our dinner and once again Angelica arrived looking fretful and nervous as she ladled out our soup from the huge duchy resting akimbo on her rounded hips. As her eyes fell upon Julia I saw her visibly relax. Angelica obviously recognised Sylvia for the bully she obviously was but with Julia there to monitor our behaviour, it meant there was no chance of Sylvia misbehaving. Nevertheless, Angelica skirted Sylvia cautiously and ladled the soup cautiously across our table so that Sylvia could not upset her arm without making it obvious.

All our tables were square four-seater tables with settings for four occupants, however the fourth setting seemed never to be used. After Angelica had minced off to the next table I mused about this missing person and once again asked Julia. She wagged her head and smiled as Sylvia rolled her eyes heavenwards.

“Oh my Michelle. You’re full of questions aren’t you?”

“But why?” I pressed. “Why is the fourth placing always empty?”

“It’s for flexibility darling.” Explained Julia with a patient smile. “As the naughty sissies improve, (that is if they improve,), they may be released from the chain gang and allowed to sit with the rest of the school. Also, her mistress gets relieved from her supervisory duties and she can choose to sit at any table that’s got an empty setting.”

“So, we could get anybody then,” I finished.

“Yes! Snapped Sylvia. “You just hope that we get a nice one!”

“Quite,” agreed Julia with a sly smile, “lets hope we get a nice one.”

I caught Julia’s drift and lowered my eyes with amusement as I half turned away from Sylvia and smiled knowingly. Julia obviously had little time for Sylvia who seemed little more than a spiteful bully.

Finally supper was finished and I joined my sister Janice at the bottom of our stairs.

“Ready for the exercises?” Asked Janice.

“Lead on sis.” I nodded, and we started our first ascent.

Because we had no prep that first evening of proper school, we did some additional ascents and descents of the stairs until Victoria and Sophia arrived and smiled at our red faces and fluttering breasts.

“Don’t overdo it darlings, we don’t want you feinting do we?”

We took the hint and stopped exercising after ascending to our study located one floor above Victoria and Sophia. Later as we were covering our books to protect them, Sophia knocked on our door. As she came in she warned us.

“You’d better shower early. When the naughty sissies arrive, they’ll be all night doing their first ablutions. It’s difficult taking communal showers when you’re all chained together.”

“Oh! Thanks Mistress Sophie,” I smiled gratefully.

She smiled back and disappeared as Janice and I immediately attended to our undressing. We were to thank her for the advice for as we crossed the landing the long crocodile of naughty sissies came puffing and panting slowly up the stairs. The senior girl in charge motioned to us to hurry across the landing otherwise we would have to wait until the whole crocodile had slowly wound it’s way up to the next landing. That took nearly a quarter of an hour because the naughty sissies were still unaccustomed to mincing in step as they climbed the stairs. However, by instructing us to cross first, we had to walk naked passed the first sissies in the line and they could not help but stare lustfully at our peachy curvy bodies. There was even a murmur of curiosity as they realised one of us was a real girl but the other one was like them, a sissy.

Janice and I felt slightly embarrassed by having to cross in front of them whilst naked but it was obvious that the naughty sissies were utterly unable to do anything about it. Their ankles were chained together on a short one-foot chain that completely prevented any sort of agility. Then additionally, each sissy was chained at the waist to the next sissy in the line. They resembled nothing more than a coffle of slaves. Janice and I turned boldly to face them thus giving them a full flash of frontal nudity before we slipped into the bathroom.

As we closed the door, we heard the sharp swish of the riding crops and a tearful, collective whimper from the sissies as they resumed their strenuous climb. Strenuous that is because of their spectacularly tight corsets.

“Did you see their waists?” Squealed Janice, “I didn’t believe they could go that small!”

“That’s why they were gasping for breath.” I giggled. “They’ve just climbed three flights of stairs in those corsets and they have to climb the fourth to get to their dormitory.”

“I suppose they were glad we appeared on the landing. It gave them a chance to stop and rest.” Added Janice.

“Come on then, let’s get showered. They’ll be down here in a minute and I wouldn’t want to be caught by them.”

“Why?” Asked Janice. “They can’t harm us.”

“I don’t know.” I replied thoughtfully. “I think I recognised two of them as those two boys who attacked me in the park. I think Victoria’s mummy, Mistress Portia, said something about them being sent here.”

Janice's smile faded slightly so we quickly completed our toilet then showered together. As the water hissed in the cubicle there was a knock on the cubicle door. It was Sophia and Victoria.

“Have you two finished?” Asked Victoria.

“Nearly,” squeaked Janice; slightly surprised to find the two senior girls in the communal shower.

“Well hurry up. You don’t want to miss the show, do you?”

“What show?” I asked as I responded immediately to Victoria’s suggestion and stepped out of the shower.

I was surprised to find Sophia and Victoria completely naked though I think I succeeded in hiding my surprise. Janice was not so successful. She gasped and stared at the beautifully formed senior girls.

“You, - you’re naked!” Squeaked Janice.

“Of course we’re naked,” replied Victoria, “how else does one shower?”

“Oh! I, - I thought you two had your own shower.” Replied Janice still unable to avert her gaze from Victoria and Sophia’s beautiful breasts.

“Don’t be silly darling,” replied Sophia as she bent down and kissed Janice on her forehead. “Victoria and I are the dormitory prefects so we have to supervise the showers. Don’t worry though, the other senior girls will be attending and everybody will be naked so everybody will be equal. Nudity is not something to be ashamed of.”

Janice and I relaxed slightly as Sophia announced.

“They’ll all be down here in about five minutes, I’m sure you’ll enjoy the show.”

I was still a bit unsure of all this idea of nudity but Janice seemed relaxed about it and as it was always the duty of a ‘big brother’ to protect his little sister, I had to go along with the idea. Victoria sensed my uncertainty so decided to keep me occupied.

“Peaches, why don’t you go and fetch the towels from the store cupboard across the landing. They’ll be needing them after showering.”

For want of something to do I agreed and peered cautiously outside into the corridor before slipping across the landing to the door marked ‘store’. I checked to see that there was nobody waiting to trap me in the cupboard then I opened it inwards and locked it back before venturing into the cupboard. There were towels and toilet materials and various hygiene materials stacked neatly on the shelves so I counted out the requisite towels and carried them back to the bathroom. Victoria showed me where to put them and sent me back to get some shampoo and assorted toiletries. When a returned the next time I was crossing the landing with my arms full again when the rhythmic clink of ankle chains announced the descent of the naughty sissies from their dormitory upstairs. I glanced up the stairway to see the first totally naked sissy carefully mincing down the stairs as her mistress walked beside her in case she stumbled.

I say naked but that was not exactly true. Around her waist she wore a desperately tight punishment belt and between her bum cheeks I could just see the pink stub of a butt-plug. In addition to her ankle chains to prevent her running, there was also a chain connecting her punishment belt to the next sissy in the line. They were descending the stairs in strict military precision for one miss-step might have brought them all tumbling down.

I could see the fear in the first sissy’s eyes as she cautiously measured her step to exactly match the rise and going of the stairs. I also definitely recognised her as one of the horrible boys who had assaulted me in the park that summer. She also recognised me and averted her eyes fearfully. I relaxed a bit at her reaction for I realised that she feared me more than I needed to fear her.

Keen to be past them before they blocked my path to the bathroom, I minced across the landing and bumped my peachy butt against the door to carry my full load of toiletries into the bathroom. Then the sissies crossed the stairs in regular order and entered the showers. I stood back as the senior girls ordered them to turn to the wall. With nervous whimpers and moans, they obeyed reluctantly as each mistress unlocked her ward from the line and attached them to a ring in the wall. Now each naughty sissy was secured to the wall by her punishment belt and chain. Then, the first one, - the one who had assaulted me was ordered to bend over. She did this nervously and the next sissy was ordered to remove the butt-plug.

It was obvious she had never done this before because the job proved difficult for her and very painful for my attacker. She yelped then screamed as the second sissy fiddled nervously and tugged clumsily until the shaped rings eventually emerged from her rectum whilst tugging and expanding her sphincter. Eventually, the second sissy held up the butt-plug and examined it fearfully. It was quite obviously shaped like a man’s cock except for the thicker part in the middle and the series of ringed sections at the bottom.

As it had emerged, I could see now how the sphincter muscle naturally clamped onto each ring before the owner relaxed her butt to allow the next ring to descend. During each ring’s extraction the victim’s sphincter must have been stretched then closed unmercifully. The butt-plugs were obviously one of the cruelest punishment devices yet invented that could be worn without detection.

‘No wonder the naughty sissies were so obedient!’ I reflected.

The second sissy then held the butt-plug up for the Mistress’s inspection then she was told to place it in the little basin and wash it whilst the first sissy was taken to perform her bodily functions.

This process was repeated down the line until all the sissies were relieved of their bodily wastes. The first sissy of course, was required to remove the last sissy’s butt-plug so the whole cycle was completed.

Next came the showers. Each sissy was freed from her wall hook and paraded into the showers where her punishment belt and chain was connected to a longer chain that tied her to the wall but gave her freedom to move around and touch the other sissies. (I had wondered what the 2-metre length chains were for, hanging down from the rings in the walls.)

When all the naughty sissies were secured Victoria announced.

“I am switching the showers on now. You will each see the ‘telephone nozzle’ flexible pipe and control valve beside you so each of you can wash as she sees fit. I must warn you though, that your mistresses will inspect you after showering to make sure you are clean. One word of warning though.” Added Victoria. “You all have short hair at present because your hair hasn’t grown out. It will seem as though you have plenty of time to shower. This may be true now, but as your hair grows out to waist length, you will find the shower time seeming to get shorter and shorter. The older sissies up the school find that it’s better to assist each other by washing each other’s hair to speed up the process. It’s a good idea to develop this habit now and pick a friend to help each other. When you are older and more sissified, you will appreciate such co-operation.”

With these words, Victoria flicked the big switch and the sissies quickly experimented with the nozzles. After a few squeals about the initially cold water, they calmed down as they found they could adjust the temperature to their individual likings. Soon the shower room was a thick blanket of steam and the naughty sissies were an invisible squealing mass doing heaven knows what to each other as they showered. During this time, their ‘mistresses’ took the chance to attend to their own needs and returned later with their washed hair in turbans. Victoria explained.

“They have another shower room just down the landing. This landing is a sort of utility landing so you’ll hear a lot of traffic during your time here. However, your rooms are fairly private and you have a lovely view from your windows, so be thankful for my mother’s pull with the school. All the other new pupils sleep in dormitories.”

We looked suitably grateful and stood attendance upon Sophia and Victoria as they gave out instructions and orders to the naughty sissies.

Eventually she announced that shower time was over. The sissies were each re-secured at the ankles then released from their rings. And filed past me as I handed each one a large warm fluffy towel. The mistresses instructed them how to dry by patting and dabbing their bodies instead of rubbing them vigorously. Then they were each taken to the hair-drying room and shown how to dry their hair. This was done by first making each sissy dry her attendant mistress’s long hair. Janice and I attended to each other’s hair and the naughty sissies looked at us uncertainly. They were obviously wondering why we were receiving special privileged treatment.

The final bizarre little performance was to direct the hair dryers into a small opening at the back of their punishment belts and blow dry the ‘hard-to-reach’ parts of their waists under the belts. Once again, Victoria explained.
“If they don’t dry under their belts, it will begin to sour and smell and they might get fungal infections. We check them every Saturday morning when you others are playing hockey.”

“Hockey!” Sighed Janice. “Do we have to play hockey?”

“You must keep fit darlings. Mistress Janet won’t have any overweight pupils; girls or sissies.”

Janice pulled a face but I wasn’t too disheartened. I simply wondered what the hockey corsets would be like and would they show under our hockey gymslips. I hoped they would allow me to breath properly when chasing the ball, because I liked all ball games. If I couldn’t play soccer then hockey would have to suffice.

Finally, all the naughty sissies had completed their toilettes and taken up to their dormitories. There they were re-corseted and put to bed. Janice and I were taken up to watch as the senior girls laced their wards securely and chained them to the ‘fire release’ bars that ran the length of the dormitory and slipped free if the fire alarms went off. These bars prevented the sissies from wandering further than the next bed on either side but at least they were free to toss and turn and, if they wanted to, join a friend in the next bed.

There could be no licentious misbehaviour though. The night corsets made certain of that. All the poor little naughty sissies could do was cuddle up to the next bedmate and share companionship. Eventually, as the naughty sissy class settled down through the first term, they formed friendships, and the bed placement arrangements would change as sissies swapped beds to be closer to their friends.

If I had not known that every one of these naughty sissies had been an abuser of girls, I might have felt some sympathy for them, but after my ghastly terror in the park, it was hard to be compassionate towards them. Besides, there were plenty of ‘good sissies’ in the school with whom I would become friendly during my time at Mistress Janet’s academy.

I particularly liked Julia, my dining hall companion, but Julia was much further up the middle school and we had little time together except for meal times and the single hour of prep in the evening. Even then we were too busy studying. Sunday afternoons were about the only times we could really sit and chat and that is where I learned that Julia, like me, was a heterosexual transvestite who was fond of girls. One particular sunny Sunday afternoon as Julia, Janice and I sat under the Oak trees at the side of the sports pavilion; Julia confided that she hoped Janice would adopt her as a sissy companion when Janice had left school. Janice blushed and smiled then reached over and planted a soft kiss on Julia’s lips. I must confess, I felt a little bit jealous, but in all fairness, I could never become Janice's sissy companion in adulthood.

Janice was my younger sister and that would be incest! However, I secretly hoped that my sister Janice and Julia would become companions and even perhaps marry. The thought of having Julia as my sissy-in-law was a scrumptious idea.