This chapter explores the advancement of Michelle and Janice into the middle school. It also describes their home lives and introduces a new family who visit once a year. P.S. I have removed the misnomered 'Punishment Belts' and used 'waist control belts' as corset substitutes during the school holidays.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mmmm! That tastes nice!

15 Sissy Farm

List of Characters.

Me. Michelle A Natural transvestite sissy.
Janice My Younger sister
Aunty Bev Janice and My mother’s Sister.
Mistress Janet Headmistress of the young lady’s academy
Doctor Shirley Williams. My endocrinologist.
Miranda. A very effeminate Sissy sales assistant.
Miss Stern Miranda’s mistress who owns the shop.
Peregrine. AKA. Uncle Penny. My transvestite uncle. (Aunty Bev’s brother.)
James AKA. Auntie Jamie Peregrine’s Partner
Victoria An older RG friend of mine.
Jemima Victoria’s sissy brother.
Portia Victoria’s mummy.
Julia. My dining companion and mentor at Mistress Janet’s Academy.
Sophia and Angelica Victoria and Jemima’s friends.
Delilah & Nancy My ex Attackers.
Davinia. Sissified Gypsy boy once called David
John and Simone Davinia’s older gypsy brother and sister,

Chapter 15.

The following morning, Janice and I awoke in each other’s arms and savoured the warm spring sun as it shone through the South East window of our turreted study and illuminated our bed from an unusual angle. Janice let out a squeak of surprise and tugged me urgently into consciousness.

“Get up! It’s late. Auntie Bev and Auntie Jamie are already up!”

I sighed and rubbed my eyes sleepily.

“What’s the rush? It’s the Pageant. It’s the holidays. If were meant to get up early, then I’m sure they would have woken us.”

Janice relaxed and snuggled back under the duvet as we savoured a rare morning cuddle in our own study. Then we slowly surfaced and slipped languidly out of our corsets before crossing the landing into the showers. To our surprise we found Nancy and Delilah also savouring a rare late shower.

They were as naked as we were and once again their eyes strayed enviously to my boy clitty and Janice's girly secrets. It was obvious they were comparing my pretty little pee-pee with their almost invisible little nubbins that were all that remained of their sissy clitties. Strangely, neither Janice nor I felt uncomfortable about this. We had already realised that as sissies they were physically incapable of overpowering Janice and I was therefore safe under Janice's care. Without the slightest sense of threat, we joined them under the hot sprays. However, Nancy and Delilah were not to be denied one little pleasure and as we lathered each other down, curious fingers strayed inquisitively to Janice and my pleasure centres. Naturally we reciprocated the explorations and soon we were giggling and gasping with delight. That morning’s events finally cemented our four-sided friendship.

That Sunday afternoon we four stayed together until all the elements of the pageant were finished and Auntie Beverly called us aside.

“Time to go home darlings.”

Reluctantly, Janice and I parted company with Nancy and Delilah and they stood holding hands and staring pensively at our minibus as we sat inside while Angelica, Jemima, Victoria and Sophia arranged themselves and the luggage. Nancy and Delilah looked so forlorn standing in front of the huge façade of the school. As Janice and I turned to wave, I asked Auntie Bev.

“What happens to those two during the holidays?”

“I don’t know properly darlings.” Replied Auntie Bev. “I suppose if there parents or mistresses don’t collect them then they have to remain in the school.”

“That’s exactly what happens.” Confirmed Victoria. “And they can’t escape because their punishment belts are fitted with satellite trackers. If they step outside the bounds, their alarms go off. Look, there’s Mistress Evans already attending to their belts. See!”

Janice and I stared as Nancy and Beverly stood obediently while Mistress Evans fiddled under their hooped skirts Suddenly both sissies jumped and squealed as though shocked and we realised that the punishment belts were not only tracking devices. Janice and I exchanged frowns.

The very idea of never going home seemed utterly repugnant. ‘Still’ I concluded, ‘they were after all being punished and ‘corrected’.

Eventually we were all organised and we all gave a final wave to Nancy and Delilah. Janice and I kept waving while Nancy and Delilah stood watching our minibus until we rounded the bend and lost sight of each other. Auntie Bev turned to us inquisitively while Auntie Jamie drove.

“You seem to get on with those two now.”

“They’ve changed a lot,” replied Janice.

“Yeah. Mistress Janet’s does that.” Grinned Victoria.

“Well they’re not as bad as they used to be.” I added. “They seem truly sorry for what they did.”

“Well if your still friendly with them by the summer holidays, would you like them to come and stay with us at the cottage?” Offered Auntie Bev.

“If we’re still friendly,” I agreed thoughtfully.

“Can we come to your cottage?” Asked Jemima boldly.

“Why not. There’s plenty of room and Auntie Jamie will be coming down. He has to make his peace with his father the old earl.”

“Is that the old man in the woods?” Asked Janice.

“The very same.” Replied Auntie Jamie.

“He’s nice.” Observed Janice.

Auntie Jamie said nothing as the faintest of ironic smiles etched itself onto the sides of his mouth. He obviously had differing views. Thinking back about this I was too young to realise what discontent there would have been between a father hoping for his son to provide children to ‘carry on the family line’ whilst his only son was a homosexual transvestite who showed very little likelihood of doing so.

For the rest of the drive home, we remained chattering about what we would do for the remainder of the Easter holiday before returning to Mistress Janet’s Academy. When we got home we were surprised to discover that Auntie Bev had secretly invited Victoria, Sophia, Jemima and Angelica to stay the remaining week of the hols at our cottage. To our surprise, Auntie Jamie was coming too, but he was going to stay with his father.

This was a very brave thing for a homosexual transvestite to do, especially when that transvestite’s father utterly disapproved of Jamie’s lifestyle. Two days after arriving home in London, we were on our way again to Auntie Bev’s cottage.

Once again, Auntie Jamie drove the minibus but she remained deep in thought. Several times, Auntie Bev tried to dig her out of her fearful reflections but she remained silent. She dreaded the confrontation with her father.

“There’s no need to be frightened. I’ll be there with you. He won’t be able to beat you or anything. I’ll be the witness.”

“You don’t know my father.” Was all Auntie Jamie said.

His mood put a slight damper on our spirits but we managed to chat amongst ourselves without inviting Auntie Jamie’s irritation. She was obviously very frightened and we sensed it. We children were dropped off at the cottage where Sophia and Victoria set about making the place comfortable. Auntie Bev and Auntie Jamie then drove off down the lane to Auntie Jamie’s stately, family home across the other side of the woods. After packing away our clothes and setting out the dining table Victoria and Sophia shooed us away.

“Off you go. We’ll get dinner ready then you can wash up.”

This seemed fair so we four younger ones minced happily away for a walk in the woods. Angelica and Jemima immediately fell in love with the cottage and the woods and they swore they never wanted to leave the place.

“And all these woods are yours?” Squealed Jemima as we led them through the glades to the little stream.

“Up to the stream and this side of the path.” Replied Janice. “That side is Auntie Jamie’s dads'.

“Who owns the other side of the stream?” Pressed Angelica.

“The county council,” I replied. But it’s a huge chunk and very few people venture this far into the woods from that side.

That means we more or less get to use the woods up to the stream in complete privacy.

“Do you ever go skinny dipping?” Giggled Angelica.

“We used to, before I became a sissy.” I replied

“So what’s to stop you now?”

“Nothing except that the water’s still freezing. Dip your hand in it.”

Angelica carefully arranged her beautiful frock and leant forward cautiously until she managed to dabble her fingers in the crystal clear waters.

“Oo-oh! It is cold!”

“Exactly. Try leaving your fingers in there for a couple of minutes.” Observed Janice as Angelica struggled to her feet.

“Why is it so cold?” She asked as she brushed down imaginary soil marks from her frock.

“It’s fed by a spring about half a mile up the valley and it’s icy when it comes to the surface. This time of year, it hasn’t had much sun to warm it so it’s always freezing. In the summer it warms up a bit, enough for a quick dip, but it’s always too cold to linger in the water.”

“Oh. I do hope we can come back in the summer.” Declared Jemima. Come on. We must get back.”

“Oh let’s not rush,” sighed Janice. Supper isn’t until eight and I’ve brought a torch.”

Angelica fidgeted slightly and ‘adjusted’ her bountiful breasts.

“We’ve got to get back. It’s milking time.”

“Oh! Sorry. I forgot!” Gasped Janice as her eyes fell upon Jemima’s ripe forms.

Jemima blushed and smiled as she also ‘adjusted’ her breasts and set off determinedly back along the path. As they minced urgently along, both sissies started to pant and whimper and we asked what was wrong.

“We spent too long by the stream. Our breasts are beginning to ache.”

“Well walk a little faster.” Suggested Janice.

“You’re joking!” Protested Angelica. “The faster we walk, the more our boobies bounce. The more they bounce the more the milk wants to flow. Ooo-ooh. Mine are getting full!”

Their mincing, swaying walk became more exaggerated as they tried to move faster but maintain a graceful flowing motion that prevented undue bouncing of their breasts. We stopped one more time on the path while Angelica and Jemima took some pads from their purses and deftly slipped them into their bra cups.

“I’m beginning to leak.” Declared Jemima.

“So am I.” Added Angelica. “We didn’t know the stream was so far away.”

By the time we arrived back at the cottage both sissies were ‘showing’ as the milk had soaked their pads and stained the cups of their bras. There were even two tiny damp spots each showing on the bodice of their frocks. Victoria and Sophia wagged their heads condescendingly as Angelica and Jemima urgently untied their bodice laces and finally exposed their boobs.
The portable milking machine was operated from the Minibus and both sissies had to stand outside in front of the cottage with their ripe boobies exposed until Victoria had set the machine up and invited them to attach the ‘double headed’ suction cups to their spurting nipples.

Now the sissies stood facing each other with the two suction cups mutually attached to their nipples so that each cup was attached to two nipples. Thus were the sissies connected to each other as the milk spurted from their breasts and splashed against their companion’s nipple inside the double ended shared vacuum cup. The sissies were in effect joined at the nipples.
Jemima and Angelica needed no second invitation as they quickly activated the glass vacuum pumps and sighed with relief as the milk was now directed into the machine. Janice and I watched in fascination as the rich creamy liquid spurted out of their nipples and splashed against each other’s nipples before tumbling into the glass cups then flowing down the pipes and into the large container. We also noticed that Jemima and Angelica were becoming more and more trancelike as their breasts and nipples obviously responded to the suckling reflex. Then they started to mewl and sigh as their hips started gyrating and they embraced each other. Soon they were gasping and squeaking and the milk seemed to increase its flow.

It was obvious that they were trying somehow to ‘frot’ their sissy clitties together but their corsets prevented all hope of this relief in this area. Angelica and Jemima were reduced to simply trying to alleviate their urges by kissing and embracing their upper bodies. This was however, made almost impossible by the shared suction cups, which invaded the space between them, were normally their large breasts would have mashed invitingly together.

Finally as the milking was completed, their nipples had become so enlarged by the excitation that they were squashed against each other inside the vacuum cups. Both sissies were now feeling the others’ turgid erectile buds pressing against their own. Such sensations were just too much for a sissy to bear and they quickly sagged against the side of the minibus as their orgasms overtook them. Janice and I became a little concerned but Sophia, who was supervising, reassured us that it was all perfectly normal.

“Is this what happens in the dairy parlour at school?” Asked Janice.

“Well there’s a little bit more in the dairy parlour, but you will have to wait until you become herd members. Do you still want to become a dairy girl?” Asked Sophia curiously.

Janice nodded and explained.

“Only if I can have Michelle as my dairy companion.”

“Well that can easily be arranged. So long as your Auntie Bev agrees, then it’ll happen that way. By the way did you know I have been elected as head girl next year?”

“Ooo-ooh super!” Squealed Janice.

“Don’t let it go to your head though. I still have to be fair and show no favouritism.”

With this exciting news, we disconnected the sissies from the milking machine and they stumbled bare-breasted into the cottage to shower and change their clothes. By the time Angelica and Jemima were ‘recovered’ Victoria had prepared supper and Auntie Bev had returned with Auntie Jamie from the ‘big house’.

“So how did your dad take it?” Asked Victoria of Auntie Jamie.

“Not as bad as I thought he would. It goes to show he’s more concerned with ‘perpetuating the family line’ than he is about my happiness. So long as we produce a son and heir, he’s happy.

“But that’s always the way with the upper classes.” Observed Auntie Bev. “He just thinks of me as a brood mare, not even a future daughter in law.”

Auntie Jamie nodded philosophically and commenced eating as Auntie Bev continued.

“We’ve all been invited to dine with him tomorrow. He thinks you’re all girls so let’s have no slip ups.”

We all grinned with delight. Janice and I had been up to the big house before but the other’s had not. There would be the inevitable tour of the house by old Dorothy, the crusty old housekeeper. Apart from Auntie Jamie’s dad, Dorothy and a single gardener, nobody else lived up at the big house. That evening we four younger ones chatted far into the night about the forthcoming visit. We shared the two beds in what was normally Janice's bedroom whilst Victoria and Sophia used my room. Auntie Bev and Auntie Jamie slept together at the other end of the landing.

The following morning after ‘the milking’ there was a bit of a ‘log jam’ outside the bathroom. The cottage had never been designed for the exceptional needs of sissies and corsets and we giggled as we fussed and fidgeted whilst waiting to use the bathroom. Auntie Bev grinned and remarked that we would have to build an extension if we were ever to come back to live there but Auntie Jamie quickly put her right.

“We’ll be living at the big house when we get married darling. There’s plenty of room for all!”

“But what about your dad?”

“He’s not long for this world. He’s eighty-seven now! He was over fifty when I came along and I was his only son by his second wife. I’ve got four older half sisters but they never come to see him. Their mother’s divorce from him was pretty vicious. It was all about providing a son. My mother was his second wife and very young when they married. She gave him a son, namely me, and then she ran off with some handsome young gardener. Dad’s been divorced twice so now he’s a grumpy old bastard.”

“Crickey, your family’s completely dysfunctional!” Laughed Auntie Bev.

“Yeah. Tell me about it. How long will these little beauties take to get ready? We’ve got to be there at twelve precisely. Old Dorothy’s a stickler.”

“Oh they’ll be ready in plenty of time. Mistress Janet’s training is excellent for teaching young a lady’s punctuality.”

And we were ready. By eleven forty-five we were arranged neatly on the huge step outside the monstrous front doors of Auntie Jamie’s family home. A tall severe looking lady answered the door and smiled politely at Auntie Jamie as she made a brief curtsey.

“Good morning sir.” She said somewhat sheepishly for Auntie Jamie was wearing a smart silk two-piece skirt and jacket that beautifully showed off her perfectly feminine curves. Under her pink frilly chiffon blouse could easily be seen her lacy pink bra supporting two glorious fulsome breasts. Auntie Jamie was every inch a lady. The address however, upset her no a jot. Auntie Jamie was quite used to her childhood acquaintances still referring to her as a man. She ignored the title and smiled at Dorothy as she introduced us. It was all very formal and correct but we were used to formal and correct. Mistress Janet’s Academy for young ladies had prepared us all perfectly for such lives.

Dorothy took Auntie Jamie’s coat, Auntie Bev’s coat, and Victoria and Sophia’s. We younger ‘girls’ were instructed to remove our coats and follow her to the cloakroom. When we returned, Auntie Jamie was introducing Victoria and Sophia to his father, the old earl. Auntie Bev of course, knew the old earl from way back when she and my mother and Uncle Penny had played with Auntie Jamie as children in the woods. Finally, Jemima and Angelica were introduced then we were led into the dining room. A young maid had been employed for the day to help Dorothy wait at table. It was obvious that the old earl was determined not to let standards slip. We sat down to eat and we younger ones only spoke when spoken to. Mistress Janet’s Academy had taught us to know our place when dining with adults.

By three o’clock, the ordeal was over. Auntie Jamie’s dad seemed to have loosened up a bit and the young maid had rather spoiled us younger ‘girls’. She was impressed that we didn’t appear to be greedy but little did she know that sissy’s tummies were incapable of greed. We made our farewells and the old earl suggested that we should come again. That at least seemed to please Auntie Bev and they agreed to come on the Sunday before we returned to London. As we walked back through the woods Auntie Bev chatted with Auntie Jamie.

“Your dad; he doesn’t seem that upset by it all.”

“He’s always liked you. I think he always secretly hoped I’d marry you.”

“Well, he’s got his wish, - at last.”

“He still doesn’t approve of me though.”

“Well, we can’t always have what we wa-ant!” Sang Auntie Bev as her voice rang through the silent glades.

We all turned to stare then giggle as they held hands then started skipping along the path. Naturally we tried to follow but out formal corsets prevented us somewhat and we all fell to mincing with prissy little steps as we struggled to keep up with Bev and Jamie.

“Wait for us!” Squealed Victoria with delight as Jamie and Bev’s happy mood took hold of us all.

Auntie Bev and Auntie Jamie however ignored our pleas and they soon disappeared around a bend as we six corseted ladies gave up the chase. When we arrived back at the cottage there was no sign of the pair and it was five o’clock before they emerged from the woods. Auntie Bev’s lovely pink frock had bluebell flower stains up the back and we soon realised what had been happening. The wood was full of bluebell glades. Victoria and Sophia scolded her affectionately as they pointed out the marks.

“So what!” Protested Auntie Bev. “We’re both consenting adults.”

“But Auntie Jamie’s gay. Did she; you know, -?”

“I think you’re under a misapprehension. Uncle Penny’s gay. Auntie Jamie is a bi-sexual transvestite.”

“So, your marriage, - it’ll be a ‘back-to-front’ ‘ménage a trois’?” Asked Sophia. “Two boys and a girl.”

“Yes, sort of. My brother is not the jealous kind. She’ll be happy to share her partner with her sister.”

Sophia shared a knowing look with Victoria and grinned.

“Can we be bridesmaids, plee-ease!”

Auntie Bev’s laughter tinkled delightfully through the cottage.

“Of course you can. All six of you are bridesmaids.”

“What about Auntie Jamie’s half-sisters? Won’t there be any nieces there who’ll want to attend?”

“They can if they want, but they’ll have to accept the dress code. Auntie Jamie’s wedding gown will be exactly the same as mine. We don’t want the groom’s bridal gown to surpass the bride’s do we?”

“Ooo-ooh. This is going to be so super!” Squealed Jemima as she hugged Angelica tight to her.”

“When’s the wedding then?” Asked Victoria.

“At the end of July.” Replied Auntie Jamie who had joined us in the bedroom as we undressed Auntie Bev and changed her frock.

“Gosh that doesn’t leave much time! How will you arrange the church and stuff?”

“The village church is attached to my father’s estate. He’s ipso facto the local squire. The padre couldn’t refuse. Besides, the village is very small and the church rarely sees a wedding these days. There was no problem organising a Saturday in July.”
“What will the villagers think with the groom in a gown?” Wondered Sophia.

“My transvestism is no longer a secret. They’ve seen me en-femme in the village many times. Don’t forget I still have to come down here when there are big family occasions. My father demands it even though he detests my transvestism. It’s always duty and family with him before anything else. My father’s always complained about my lifestyle. Everybody in the village has had to suffer his whingeing about what a disappointment his son is. Do I care! Provided I’m fair to the tenants and farmers on the estate, they’ve got no right to object.”

Are you going to live here when your dad dies?” Asked Sophia.

“Yes, some of the time. There’s still the business to run in London what with the pub, the club and the boutique, not to mention Uncle Penny. She’s my business partner as well as my boyfriend. We’re happy with the arrangements, aren’t we Bev?

Auntie Beverly nodded and smiled quite spontaneously and I was forced to conclude that she was. I learned later in life that Auntie Bev had always secretly hankered to live as the lady up at ‘the big house’. She had finally achieved that ambition. She had always been deeply fond of Auntie Jamie despite his bisexuality.

If her new husband also had a boyfriend as well it mattered not a jot to Auntie Bev provided it didn’t scare the horses. Besides, at least she knew who that boyfriend was and she knew she could trust them to be fair and open about the arrangement. Uncle Penny and Auntie Jamie were deeply loyal to each other and it was a truly emotional bond, not a crude fear of sexually transmitted diseases. Uncle Penny was also happy that Auntie Jamie’s newly chosen wife was our Auntie Bev, his own younger sister.

When we returned to London, the arrangement was confirmed in the strictest sense when the three of them chose to sleep in the same large bed. Janice and I discovered this arrangement the very first morning after our return when Janice and I knocked on Auntie Bev’s door for her to check our corsets. She invited us in and we were surprised to see three beautiful heads of hair spread out upon the pillows.

“Oh!” Squeaked Janice with surprise. “Shall we come back later?”

“Don’t be silly darlings!” Smiled Auntie Bev. Come here. Climb up on the bed.”

We needed no second bidding for the three of them looked absolutely delicious in their beautiful nighties. If we had not known of their true natures, we would have readily mistaken them for three beautiful women. We had to clamber over Uncle Penny to reach Auntie Bev who hugged us and kissed us before checking our corsets. After confirming they were properly laced she settled back between her companions and asked us what sort of dresses we wanted for the wedding.

“Oo-oh! Do we get to choose then?” Squealed Janice.

“Of course. What colour scheme do you like?”

I looked at Janice and she smiled at me. We both loved pink but were afraid to say so. Auntie Bev smiled and fingered Auntie Jamie’s frilly nightie.

“Is this the colour you like?”

We both nodded shyly for Auntie Jamie’s nightie was the most explosive shade of pink that could be invented. By comparison, Auntie Bev’s pale ivory nightie and Uncle Penny’s powder blue peignoir were conservative.

“Very well darlings. Pink it is. I always knew you both liked pink.”

Janice and I wriggled with glee and inveigled ourselves under the duvet either side of Auntie Bev. She spread her arms and hugged us to her. We lay there savouring Auntie Bev’s soft ripe curves whilst privately noting that Auntie Jamie and Uncle Penny also shared a similar feminine softness. They responded to our inquisitive fingers by turning inwards and squeezing both Janice and me between themselves and Auntie Bev. The soft warm sandwich of creamy soft curves left Janice and I blissfully content. Fortunately our corsets prevented any untoward or unsavoury intimacy by inquisitive masculinity. We lay savouring the luxury of so much softness until Auntie Bev finally capitulated to the demands of the day.

“Well. Come on. We can’t lie here sleeping and cuddling all day. There’s work to be done.”

“And a business to run.” Added Uncle Penny as she slid out of bed, felt around for her mules then ‘clip-clopped’ into their en-suite bathroom.

Auntie Jamie followed her and Janice and I looked on curiously. From the rear both our ‘uncles’ were perfect women. They had slender curvy backs with narrow waists and curvy rounded hips. Their calves were as curvy and smooth as any girl could wish for. Even from the front, they were women until one had a chance to see their naked bodies. Fortunately such virulent organs were discreetly encased in their panties and slips though they did not ‘tuck’ during the night. From their beautiful slender jaws, down their swan necks and over their beautiful breasts to their slender waists and flared hips our uncles were definitely women. It was only when one looked lower down under the ripe swell of their girly tummies, were the telltale silky forms of their masculinity clearly visible.

During the night, neither Uncle Penny nor Auntie Jamie ‘tucked’. They only did this for daytime decorum. We three ‘girls’ remained cuddling and contented until our ‘uncles’ returned from the bathroom. Now they were wearing their daytime lingerie and for the life of us, neither Janice nor I could see the slightest sign of masculinity. Both our uncles were well and truly ‘tucked away’. Auntie Jamie caught us staring and she smiled.

“It called transition darling. All good trannies learn to do it.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

I asked recalling vague memories of pain if my cock and balls had ever been squeezed when I was a little boy.

“It just takes a little practice darling.” Added Uncle Penny as she clipped her suspender belt around her waist and slid the tabs under her panties.

There was little more that Janice or I could say. Our uncle’s panties showed absolutely no signs of any masculinity and they were soon dressed ready for the day. Reluctantly, Auntie Bev pushed back the duvet and exposed us to the cool bedroom air as she sighed regretfully.

“Come on darlings. We can’t stay abed all day. We’ve got some shopping to do.”

As our uncles made their way downstairs, we attended Auntie Bev in the bathroom. After she had showered, Auntie Bev slid into her ‘merry widow’ corset and invited us to lace her up. We complied and then watched as Auntie Bev spooned her breasts into the bustier section. Janice stared fascinated then remarked.

"All of you have got nice breasts, but yours are the nicest. I hope mine grow like yours.

“Oh they will darling,” reassured Auntie Bev, “I can almost guarantee that your breasts will grow to the same size as mine.”

“Will mine?” I asked hopefully.

“Oh most probably. Your mummy had nice breasts as well so I’m quite sure you’ll have nice breasts. Though you’ll have to keep taking the tablets until you’ve reached twenty one or so.”

“If it means these keep growing, I’m game!” I declared eagerly as I fingered the delightfully sensitive nipples and swelling breasts wobbling under the bra section of my corset.

Janice followed suit and we sighed contentedly before resuming with Auntie Bev’s dressing. Auntie Bev smiled indulgently as I clipped her stockings to her belt and secretly savoured the scented fragrances emanating from her warm panties. Eventually we were all dressed and ready for the fray. We would be visiting several bridal boutiques in our quest for the right designs and colour schemes.

Naturally, Auntie Bev failed to decide on that first outing. It was to be another month before the wedding theme was finally decided upon and another month again before all the gowns were ready. Inevitably, Auntie Bev had chosen Miss Stern’s London branch for our bridesmaid’s outfits because our tiny waists might have raised some curious eyebrows at a more conventional bridal boutique. As it was, Auntie Bev had no small problems getting the boutique to accept that the groom’s gown and the best man’s gown would have to complement the bride’s.

Apparently there was quite a stir in the boutique when Uncle Penny, Auntie Jamie and Auntie Bev all turned up for the final choice their gowns. It also raised a bit of a giggle when the couturier suggested that they dress in separate rooms so that the groom did not see the bridal gown before the wedding. When she suggested this normal tradition Auntie Bev apparently burst out laughing. After she recovered her composure she declared that it was hardly a traditional wedding. After all, the groom had to decide upon her gown and the gowns mustn’t clash. Apparently, Auntie Jamie was almost as indecisive as her bride so the final fitting at the boutique turned out to be a thoroughly hysterical event. I wished that we younger ones could have been there but we were back at school during the summer term and therefore little involved in the decision making.

At Mistress Janet’s Academy our friendship with Nancy and Delilah blossomed as the pair became yet more effeminate, more bimboised and more servile to Janice's wishes. By the time school was out, Janice had two virtual slaves mincing around and dancing attendance upon her every wish.
I of course had no suzerainty over them for like them, I was still just a sissy. For Janice though, it meant an early induction to the ranks of mistress.

In our letters home we described Nancy and Delilah’s ongoing sissyfication to Auntie Bev. She had already invited them to stay with us at the cottage for the summer holidays so she wrote to ask if they would also like to be bridesmaids. She felt it would be a pity to exclude them from such an exciting event. When Janice put the question to them they almost fell at her knees with beseechments as they simpered and squealed with anticipation. Their measurements were taken by one of the mistresses and sent to the bridal boutique for inclusion in the ensemble.

Finally school broke up and our enlarged group returned home, first to London and the pub in Pimlico then we set up home in the cottage. Nancy and Delilah were ecstatic that they were allowed to wear ordinary frocks and lingerie and only the punishment bands to keep their waists correctly sissified. Apart from their tiny waists they almost looked like normal girls and thus they were free to join us on outings and trips.

Naturally the first place they wanted to visit was the pool in our part of the forest so we organised a picnic for that very first week. Unusually for Britain, that August was intolerably hot and the water in the stream had time to warm up before it reached the pool. It still emerged from the rocky spring icy cold but as it splashed over sun warmed rocks it quickly acquired heat so that by the time it filled our natural pool the water was tolerable. Nevertheless it was still cool enough to tantalise our nipples and we all giggled as our large sensitive sissy nipples stiffened enticingly under the flimsy materials of our bathing costumes. For all of us it was a relief to not have to wear our corsets and for that first week of the holidays we just savoured the delightful freedom from corsets as we splashed about in the pool for most of the day.

Fortunately the pool was not deep. Just over a metre deep so we could stand easily whilst there was enough depth to swim. The reason I say this is because even though our waist control belts were not very noticeable under our beautiful bathing costumes, they were enough to weigh down a sissy if she tried to stay afloat. In fact our slender ‘pipe-stem arms’ were not really strong enough to haul ourselves up the grassy banks out of the pool and we had to plead with each other if we wanted to get out of the pool. We could not swim more than about ten or fifteen metres before our delicate arms tired and we had to stop and stand on the gravelly bottom to catch our breath. For we sissies, swimming in the pool was a sharp reminder of how weak and feminised we had become. It was especially amusing to watch Nancy and Delilah squealing and simpering as they quickly tired of any exertions and had to be helped out of the pool after only about ten minutes playing. Truly they had metamorphosed into delightfully helpless and prissy sissies.

We were particularly glad that the pool was shallow for if the water had been over our heads we could have been dragged down by our waist control belts and drowned. Fortunately, for that first week of the idyllic holidays, Auntie Bev would accompany us with Auntie Jamie and the two would help us if we got really stuck. All of us sissies were fascinated by Auntie Jamie’s incongruous bulging bikini bottom that so belied the rest of his totally feminine appearance. It was a good thing that the pool and stream were on our private land. Auntie Jamie would never have been able to appear in a public place with such an incongruous bundle in place of what any unsuspecting passer-by might have expected to be the smooth inviting curve of a sweet female contour. We were truly grateful for her attendance as she helped us out of the pool.

After all, a sissy is not very strong and does not have the stamina or strength to keep herself afloat whilst wearing a metal waist control belt. We looked like a large party of school girls enjoying our own private delights. The woods rang with our squeals and shrieks of delight. Even Victoria and Sophia enjoyed the delights of our pool for this was their last summer as irresponsible school girls. The next year they would be senior girls then the following year they were destined for college. Truly that first summer week at the cottage was a memorable delight.

The second week however provided us with some surprises.

Auntie Jamie’s father, the Earl, often let a family of gypsy travellers spend the summer in his part of the woods. This had been a long standing tradition of the families for many generations and Jamie’s father upheld family traditions religiously. The gypsies helped with the harvest and attended to many rural tasks about the estate like hedge trimming and foresting. For this they got a peaceful private site where they could indulge their old rustic lifestyle unhindered and unharrassed by interfering police or urbanised ignorant neighbours who had recently moved out to the country and did not appreciate their life style.
Each summer, these genuine Romany gypsies would set up camp in an isolated glade close by the spring and go happily about their business with the blessings of the old earl.

He (and indeed we,) got our forest tidied up and the gypsies got a couple of month’s idyllic peace far away from the nosey, interfering eyes of the establishment. Needless to say that after a week of us sissies frolicking in the pool the gypsies soon got to learn of us. On the Monday of the second week the children from the gypsy camp appeared at the edge of the pool as we were all splashing and shrieking whilst oblivious to their approach. Eventually, Angelica spotted them and motioned to my sister Janice who as the only real girl present was de-facto the group spokes-person. Victoria and Sophia had gone with Aunties Bev and Jamie to do some arrangements for the wedding.

“Who are they?” Angelica squeaked nervously as she pointed to the group of children numbering about seven.

Janice and I studied the group just as they approached the edge of the pool and stopped to look at us. The gypsy children spoke first because they thought they had cart-blanch private use of the pool after having been given permission to camp near the spring by the old earl.

“Who are you?” Asked the biggest boy who looked about thirteen.

“Well who are you?” Riposted Janice.

“We’re the gypsies and this is our pool.”

“Oh!” Challenged Janice boldly. “And who gave you the pool?”

“The earl!” Piped up the biggest girl.

“I think not,” challenged Janice, “this pool is not on the earls’ estate. It’s on our part of the estate.”

“But we’re allowed to use it!” Protested the boy who had failed to listen properly to Janice’s declaration of title.

“Why are you allowed to use it?” Pressed Janice. “The pool does not belong to the earl.”

“We’re allowed to use the whole woods. The earl said so and so did the people from the farm.” Challenged the smaller boy of about ten.

“And who are ‘the people in the farm?” Demanded Janice.

“They’re friends of the earl.” Declared the older girl.

“That’s absolutely true,” agreed Janice, “they are friends of the earl, but that doesn’t give you the right to challenge us to the pool.”

“We want to wash.” Protested the oldest girl.

“So! Wash.” Declared Janice. “The pool’s big enough for everybody.”

“It’s private.” Declared the oldest boy. “We want to strip off.”

“So strip off. There’s nobody here but us girls.”

“No. I mean strip right off. We want to bath properly.”

“So strip right off. “ Grinned Janice. “We won’t look.”

“You’d better get out of the pool.” Challenged the boy. “I’m not going to let you look at my sisters.”

I was beginning to get a bit nervous. The boy was a well formed lad without an ounce of fat and well muscled for his thirteen years. He obviously did a lot of physical work as his family moved around. I suppose if I had been a homosexual, I would have been attracted to him for he was an attractive boy. Then I realised what was afoot. Janice was attracted to him and wanted to see him naked. Janice was pushing the boundaries. The problem was that if the boy got physical, we five timid effeminate sissies would not be able to defend ourselves. Mistress Janet’s thoroughly feminised sissies were physically enfeebled and naturally timid and submissive. Already we had gathered into a frightened bunch in the middle of the pool like sheep being stalked by a wolf. The boy was eyeing us boldly and his mind set was obvious. We were only a bunch of panty-waisted, timid, squealing girls

“You’d better get out, now!” He ordered.

We sissies moved nervously to obey him but Janice was having none of his hectoring. She stood her ground.

“I’m not getting out. This is our pool! You can wash if you like, but we’re not moving.”

The boy presumed wrongly that Janice was laying false title to the pool by dint of having arrived first. He did not realise that Janice and I were ‘the people from the farm’. Auntie Bev and Uncle Penny still jointly owned the cottage and this part of the woods. The gypsies called our cottage ‘The farm’ for it had once been the estate farm but the fields had been turned into forest a few decades earlier. The gypsy started to strip and quickly made himself naked before plunging into the pool and surfacing right beside Janice. As he emerged from the water he stood over her.

“Are you going to leave the pool?”

“No!” Replied Janice boldly.

The boy immediately took hold of her, picked her up and flung her over his shoulder. Then he splashed towards the bank as Janice squealed and laughed.

“Put me down, you big lummox!”

He put her down as ordered but out of the pool and onto the bank. Janice immediately stood up, ran a small way around the pool and dived into the pool again. It was obviously an invitation to be chased. The boy frowned uncertainly. It wasn’t wise for gypsies to antagonise locals for he had seen plenty of instances of such confrontation. His thirteen years belied his maturity and he did not want to become embroiled in some sort of trouble. After all, the clearing by the spring in the earl’s forest was one of the few remaining refuges were the genuinely Romany family could find shelter and peace. He did not want to compromise their families’ situation and invite trouble. He hesitated uncertainly and turned to his younger sister. She decided to defuse the situation and boldly stripped off to dive in beside her older brother.

“We can bath safely. They’re all girls, look.” She declared sweeping her hand dismissively over us timidly gathered sissies.
The boy glanced at us then turned again to his sister.

“Are you happy to be seen naked. We don’t know who they are.”

“We’re from the cottage; what you call ‘the farm’!” Squealed Janice for the first time realising that the gypsy boy had misunderstood her earlier claim to the pool.

The boy’s jaw sagged slightly as he realised his faux pas. If these strange silly girls were somehow related to the people who owned the farm then they really did own the stream, but the Old Earl had distinctly said they could use the pool. He was confused.

“The earl said he was related to the people in the farm.” He stated, now uncertain of his ground.

Janice turned to me and frowned but I nodded. We were as good as related to the earl, after all he was going to be our auntie’s father in law and that made us related somehow, even if it was only by marriage. Emboldened by my support, Janice declared that we were related even though it was not yet technically correct. Auntie Bev and Auntie Jamie’s wedding was only a couple of weeks away. The gypsy children became very subdued. They were even more afraid of somehow offending the old earl even though they had known him for years and shared a good relationship.

“I’m sorry! We’ll go and come back later.” Offered the gypsy girl.

“There’s no need for that.” Smiled Janice. “The pool’s big enough for all of us. Do you always skinny dip?”

The gypsy boy hesitated before nodding uncertainly but Janice was clearly enamoured of his lean muscular form. She grinned invitingly then lowered herself and swam slowly around him as his eyes followed her rounded form. Then Janice stood up and ran some of the crystal clear water though her hands.

“I hope you’re not going to use soap. That would pollute the stream.”

“We used herbs.” Added the girl as she reached up on the bank and pulled a handful of mixed plants from a large hessian bag lying beside her discarded jeans.

“It’s natural soap.” Added the boy. “It doesn’t harm the stream.”

Janice paddled closer and inspected the herbs as the girl squeezed a handful then rubbed them vigorously with wetted hands. A soft pale green, creamy lather started to form in her hands and she held them out for Janice to smell.

“Mmm! That smells good. Come and smell it Michelle.”

I paddled cautiously forward and sensed the boy’s gaze fall on my well rounded form as I emerged to inspect the lather. The gypsy girl then rubbed it in her hair and it foamed quite luxuriously. Janice and I were quite impressed and naturally the other sissies became curious. Soon, the six of us were testing the herbs. Finally the gypsy boy invited the younger gypsy children into the pool and soon everybody was lathering themselves. The gypsy girl then invited us to remove our costumes but only Janice accepted the invite. We sissies couldn’t possibly reveal our waist control belts and strange anatomies. I was a bit jealous of Janice as she deftly slipped her costume off and let it hang from a branch as she paddled around the gypsy boy. Fortunately he was sufficiently cautious to refuse her crude ‘child-woman’ advances but he certainly accepted her offer to lather him down. Soon Janice’s hands were rubbing him down and investigating his body. He grinned invitingly but the moment Janice located his stiffening cock she became shy and squealed a protest.

“You’ll have to wash down there!”

He was obviously disappointed but ruefully attended to his lower body as Janice joined the gypsy girl and experimented with the herbs as a hair shampoo.

“They smell nice, what are they?”

“I don’t know. Our old granny Wiston makes it up.”

“Can I have some to take home?” Pressed Janice.

The gypsy girl shrugged then nodded. If it was a way of somehow breaking any ice, the real, genuine, herbal shampoo would serve an excellent purpose. When everybody had finished washing we swam and chased each other in the pool for a few minutes before separating and making our different ways home. As we trotted excitedly along the path, Angelica and Jemima commiserated with Nancy and Delilah about not being able to skinny dip with the gypsy children.

“If we weren’t wearing our waist control belts we could take our costumes off.” Sighed Angelica.

“But they’d see that we’re sissies,” protested Jemima, “they’d see our sissy clitties and realise were not girls. We haven’t got pussies!”

“You cant see under the water. If we were wearing bikinis we could at least take our tops off. I felt a bit stupid not being able to skinny dip.” Argued Angelica.

Jemima frowned then turned to Nancy and Delilah.

“What about you two?”

“Could we? Is it safe?” Simpered Nancy.

“If we stay in the water then turn away when we come out and get dressed. It should be OK.” Observed Angelica.

“We’d have to take off our belts though. Will Auntie Beverly allow that?” Wondered Delilah.

“It can’t do any harm. Not for a few hours in the pool. I’ll ask her tonight at dinner.” Added Janice as we finally emerged from the woods and picked our way across the pasture to the cottage.

Around the table as we dined, Janice put the question to Auntie Bev who studied us curiously.

“So why d’you want your belts off?” Asked Auntie Bev.

“It’s easier to swim if the water’s a bit deeper. We were thinking of damming up the pool and making it a bit deeper and longer, like a beaver dam.”

“Are you all good swimmers?” Asked Auntie Jamie.

We nodded enthusiastically. Mistress Janet made sure all her sissies could swim. Auntie Bev then smiled and nodded. We couldn’t swim far because of our sissified enervation but we could swim well for short spurts.

“OK then. But you be careful.” Now you two, go and get milked while the rest of you prepare for bed."

Angelica and Jemima minced away eagerly to the portable milking machine in the utility room while the rest of us prepared for bed. That night we were amazed at how glossy and luxurious our hair felt as we brushed it out. Janice sighed deliciously while Nancy and Delilah simpered ecstatically as we realised just how effective the gypsy herbal shampoo was. Once we were corseted and made ready for bed we couldn’t help but cuddle together in the one bed and savour the delicious sensation of our exceptionally silky hair as we slid our hands through each other’s locks and spread them contentedly on the satin sheets and pillows. Later Angelica and Jemima joined us and they also marvelled at the glossiness of their hair.

Later on Victoria and Portia came by to check up us six younger ones and they quickly noticed our hair. At that stage we kept the gypsy shampoo a secret for we thought the older girls might object to us skinny dipping with the gypsy children. In the morning, to our delight, Auntie Beverly produced her ‘Allan key’ and removed our waist belts for the day.
At first we felt a bit insecure without them and our backs also felt a bit weak. We found that the top weight of our breasts caused us to have to stiffen our backs that little bit more and as we walked to the pool we all felt our breasts beginning to strain our backs. Thus had our back muscles become atrophied and weakened by the permanent support of the corsets and waist control belts. By the time we had reached the pool, we were glad to slip into the water and savour the extra support of the crystal clear water as it caused our breasts to float comfortably in our bikini tops.

We started to build a small dam to lift the pool up a foot or so but we soon found that our slender sissified arms and large rounded breasts did not endear themselves to heavy manual work and we were glad when the gypsy children arrived. The older boy soon arranged several large stones at the downstream outlet and created an effective dam which deepened the pool sufficiently to provide an area about forty metres diameter for swimming. When the gypsy children stripped unconcernedly to savour the fun, we sissies cautiously followed suit by removing first our bikini tops and hanging them from the branch then we cautiously slipped out of our bikini bottoms whilst keeping our secret paces submerged. We five sissies felt ever so daring! Janice on the other hand became quite bold with the gypsy boy and they were soon horse-playing in the water whilst both indulging in some salacious curiosity. We soon discovered that none of us could make out underwater details without goggles and thus our sissy secrets were safe provided we kept our bums and sissy clitties submerged. The truth was that our sissy clitties were so small that it was impossible to discern any detail underwater as our tiny, atrophied nubbins nestled furtively deep in our crotches.

Thus emboldened we nervously joined the gypsy children and the bathing session soon developed into a game of tag. The woods began to ring with shrieks and screams of delight as we indulged in a rare and totally uninhibited game of tag. Eventually we tired of the game and started to emerge from the pool in dribs and drabs as we gathered our bikinis from the branch and carefully covered ourselves before emerging totally from the pool. That is of course except for Janice who boldly joined the older gypsy boy naked on the grassy bank. We sissies were shocked and jealous to see him sporting an erection that held Janice enthralled. She couldn’t resist fingering it as they snogged on the bank. Eventually I became frightened that their embrace might go too far and I nervously suggested that it was time for dinner. The boy was very reluctant to separate from the embrace but Janice seemed a little frightened. His erection was now probing urgently at the portals of her girlhood.

“We, - we’ve got to go Janice. We mustn’t be late for dinner.”

“You go,” suggested the boy impatiently, “Janice and I can stay here.”

“No.” I replied nervously. “We’ve got to go.”

Fortunately Janice came to her senses. What had started out as adolescent horseplay was now getting out of hand. Janice did not want to go further. She squirmed fearfully and protested at his advances until eventually the boy cursed then released her from his embrace. By now, even the boy’s gypsy sister had realised things had gone too far and she joined us in our protests.

“Get off her! You mustn’t cause trouble. They won’t let us play here again if you hurt her.” She added.

The boy cursed again and stood up as he took his clothes from the bush and hurriedly dressed. His unruly erection was reluctant to be buried in his jeans but eventually he made himself respectable and Janice scrambled into her bikini before throwing her towel around her shoulders.

We parted after the gypsy girl made her older brother apologise and with a promise to meet again the next day but not go skinny dipping. It was the first time we had ever seen just how much a real boy could lose control when a girl ‘led him on’. It was a salutary lesson for us sissies and Janice. She had learned just how powerful her sexuality was.

For the rest of that fortnight, Janice was much more circumspect about her frolicking with the boy and he was wise enough to realise that he had gone too far.

After the first fortnight of the holidays at the cottage, we returned to the pub in Pimlico in London and the gypsy children had the woods to themselves. They never learned about our sissified bodies.

The middle weeks of the holidays were spent in London as preparations for Auntie Beverly’s wedding to Auntie Jamie went apace. Then for the last weeks we returned to the cottage in preparation for the wedding we sissies had to make several visits to Miss Stern’s boutique where we were fitted for our beautiful bride’s-maid’s gowns. Inevitably, poor old Angelica and Jemima had trouble controlling their hissy fits every time they saw each other wearing identical gowns. We did not know it but Nancy, Delilah and I would start to suffer the same hysterical tantrums when we reached the next year at school for we did not realise that Mistress Janet employed some further sinister mind altering techniques on the second year pupils.

For the wedding though, Nancy, Delilah and I were blissfully happy to wear identical gowns and share the delights of soft satiny fabrics hissing and slithering about our satiny corsets as we minced about hardly able to curtail our excitement. In fact Victoria and Sophia had to lock our gowns away after the final fitting for fear of us three spoiling them before the big day.
Soon that big day arrived and we sissies were delighted as we put on our gowns and fussed about in a haze of satin and hair spray. To help with the arrangements, Miranda came over from Miss Stern’s boutique in the country town. She took us younger ones under her wing whilst Uncle Penny, Victoria and Sophia helped Auntie Bev get ready. Poor Auntie Bev got into a terrible state but Miranda assured us that every bride did on the morning of her wedding.

Finally we were ready and Miranda bundled us six younger ones into the first car whilst Victoria, Sophia and Auntie Bev arrived in the second car with Uncle Penny acting as her father to give her away. It seemed somewhat incongruous that Uncle Penny should be wearing a beautiful gown of blue that was every bit as pretty as Victoria’s and Sophia’s. However, she had chosen a design without a full hooped skirt so she could easily support Auntie Bev on her arm. We sissies got ever so excited and Miranda had to get very firm with us as she arranged us in matching pairs by height to form a bridal train. When we entered the church we were all delighted to see Auntie Jamie also wearing his white gown that perfectly complemented Auntie Bev’s gown and they smiled and kissed as Auntie Bev arrived at the altar. I thought that Auntie Jamie must have been incredibly brave to wear such a beautiful gown and stand at the altar in front of the whole congregation from the village whilst waiting for his bride to arrive.

Admittedly, he had asked another transvestite friend from the alternative life-styler's club to act as his best girl and she also wore a beautiful pink gown, so Auntie Jamie had some sort of moral support. In truth the bravest person at the wedding was probably the old Earl, Auntie Jamie’s dad. After all he had to live with the sniggering and tittering amongst the village folk after Jamie returned to London.

At the wedding however, the villagers had enough decorum to be friendly towards Auntie Jamie and her new wife. He had been a popular boy in the village as a child especially after the arrogance of his older half sisters. These women hadn’t even attended the wedding and I knew they were invited for I helped write out the cards and post them.

The reception was held back at the main house and I was pleased to find the gypsies had been invited. Apparently there was yet another old family tradition that involved the gypsies being invited to the family weddings. This apparently went back hundreds of years as well. I secretly wondered if there was some sort of old curse that would befall the family if the gypsies weren’t invited. When I asked Granny Wiston, the old gypsy matriarch she cackled loudly and kissed me affectionately before assuring me that nothing of the sort existed.

Once the wedding breakfast was over we sissies were free to roam about the house and peek into every room. After all, Janice and I were family now, nieces of Auntie Jamie’s. In marrying Auntie Bev, Auntie Jamie had to accept that she came with two adopted nieces, namely Janice and me. That night we had the awesome pleasure of sleeping in the big house while Auntie Bev and Auntie Jamie took off on their honeymoon with Uncle Penny as a companion. As house guests, the others all shared beds in the big house as well.

The following morning, after breakfast, as we took a constitutional stroll around the grounds we lost Janice. After breakfast, she disappeared and we all wondered where she had gone. Nobody thought to check the gypsy camp. At eleven o’clock a very distressed and tearful Janice reappeared with her beautiful frock torn and her face badly bruised. The gardener immediately took her in hand and took her in to see the old earl.

Apparently because it was such a beautiful morning, she had made her way to the stream and set off towards the pool. She was hoping to find the older Gypsy boy swimming with the others but instead she found the younger boy of about eleven splashing about alone. The boy was nothing like his older brother and he decided to try and force his unwanted attentions upon Janice. In his mind, swimming in the nude earlier that summer, gave him licence to try for the jackpot.

Fortunately, Janice was able to fend him off and her sturdy corsets had served a useful purpose in denying the boy easy access to her secret places. However the assault had been quite violent and Janice had suffered several blows to the face. In the struggle her beautiful frock had also been badly ripped. Her cries and screams had fortunately attracted the attention of the older brother who was also out collecting wood and berries with his other younger siblings. He had arrived to find his younger brother fighting furiously with Janice and his intentions were obvious. Janice was beginning to lose the fight.

The older boy immediately grabbed his younger brother and flung him into the pool while his sisters attended to Janice. They cleaned her up and escorted Janice to the edge of the woods but they were too afraid to accompany her all the way to the big house.
After the earl learned of this he went to see the gypsy family. The families were as shocked and saddened to learn of the attack and brought the younger boy forward to confess. Apparently, the boy was a ‘bad-un’ and the parents were at their wit’s ends wondering what to do about him. Uncle Penny quietly took the earl and the boy’s parent’s aside and suggested the boy be sent to Mistress Janice’s academy. The parents simply wanted him out of their hair for he had antagonised local residents in several different places. As the boy grew older, bigger and stronger, there was a real possibility that a serious incident might occur and the gypsy clan would be barred from yet more of the ever shrinking number of sites that they still managed to cling onto.

Offensive, urbanised incomers to many of the older, picturesque, country villages had taken offence when they found the gypsies coming by and attempting to set up camp on old historic sites that they had used for centuries. Their city born experiences of urbanised scrap dealers and thieves had given the honest gypsy families a bad name. The boy’s parents were frightened. The earl’s forest site was just about the last peaceful, local, summer location where they could find a peaceful, trouble free, long term site.

“But we can’t afford those sorts of school fees,” they cried.

“The fees can be sorted by other means,” replied the old earl.

They looked uncertainly at the old man then again at the boy who showed no remorse. In fact he was smirking, as though challenging his parents to invite trouble by going to the police. The old earl could see the conflict in the parent’s minds and he pushed his case harder.

“He’ll come back a changed person.” He declared as he saw the arrogance glittering in the boy’s eye. “You’ll have a co-operative, little kitchen helper who will never wander far from the camp or pester any girls again.”

This last argument convinced the parents for all the girls in the extended family clan had complained at some time or another in the last year about his behaviour to them. Recently it had become a serious problem. The boy was idle as well as troublesome.
As the relief showed in their eyes, they nodded silently and turned to the old earl.

“Will we still be allowed to camp here each summer?”

The earl nodded thoughtfully.

“Yes. There’s no accounting for a ‘bad-un’ popping up in any family. God knows, look at my own son James. He behaves like a woman, dresses like a woman and even has a woman’s name. I don’t understand a bit of it but black sheep always pop up occasionally. It happens in all families. I don’t blame you for the boy’s behaviour. Aye, you can stay and keep coming to my woods, but I think my suggestion is a good one. The boy needs to be stopped. That academy is reputed to have some unusual successes.”

“So who will pay the fees?” They pressed.

“I will. Fees are not a problem,” replied the earl. My son - or daughter if you will — has a successful business.

The relief in the gypsy parent’s eyes shone large as they nodded agreement. The mother particularly, almost sagged with relief. The earl accepted their invitation to eat at their fire side for he had often enjoyed their al-fresco forest fare as a young child.. We sissies’ and Janice joined the old earl in sharing a delicious stew from the gypsy’s common pot then as the evening shadows lengthened we picked our way home. In the house Uncle Jenny confirmed that the gypsy boy would be attending Mistress Janet’s Academy as a first year pupil that very autumn. Delilah and Nancy grinned and tittered as they simpered with satisfaction. That would mean they would no longer be the junior in our group.

Eventually that summer ended and gone were the carefree days of being allowed to wear only our tight waist slimming shaper belts that gave us our tiny sissy waists. The autumn term arrived at Mistress Janet’s and we found ourselves back in full corsets with the delightful frilly frocks and regular high-discipline accoutrements. I must confess though that we all finally confessed that we had come to like our uniforms. Even Nancy and Delilah, who had started out as reluctant sissies now found themselves secretly enjoying their newfound sissified conditions. It was quite remarkable what a year of psychiatric adjustments and strict corseting could do to a troublesome boy. Nancy and Delilah were now every bit as sissified as me.

To any readers.
I am off to Brighton in Southern England (The Gay Capital of Southern England,) for a few days so I won’t be writing much.
Chapters 16, 17 and 18 will be forthcoming in about a month or so.
Sorry it takes so long. (I work Shifts.)
Beverly Taff.
P.S. Wed 7th July 2010
The last note was written when I posted this to FM in 2006/7 & 8. I left it in to give readers some idea of the chronology of this story.
(Brighton was brill by the way, and I’ve since been back!) -Many times!