This chapter describes Michelle and Simone's move to new York at Andre's invitation to learn hair styling at the Master's salon.

 

The Sissy Farm.
Chapter 25.

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. (Soon to inherit his/her fathers
earldom.)
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 naughty boy once called David
John and Simone Davinia’s older gypsy brother and sister,
Isobel and Sally, The two youngest gypsy sisters.
Uncle Arnold Earl Weston’s odious younger brother.
Cousin William Arnold’s son and Auntie Jamie’s first cousin.
Elaine William’s wife.
Jeanette. William’s daughter, (who fancies Julia like crazy.)
Josephine & Persephone Jeanette’s younger twin sisters.
Andre Hair stylist in N Y.
Dawn Robbins Singer and Actress.

My final years at Miss Janet’s academy proved reasonably pleasant for me. There were no great academic pressures put upon me because my tonsorial skills had already ensured me a good position at Andre’s salon in New York. I suppose that the lack of pressure for me to succeed academically was the reason I did do well. When the results came out even Mistress Janet called me to her study.

“With these results Michelle, you could have your pick of just about any college in the world. They’re some of the best results we’ve ever had for one pupil.”

I stood demurely silent for Mistress Janet could be ever so persuasive. However she was also understanding of her pupil’s needs. After she had enthused and cajoled for several minutes she realised she was not winning any arguments. Eventually she wagged her head and smiled.

“Alright Michelle; I can see you’re still not persuaded. Are you still bent upon New York and becoming a hair-dresser?”

“Hair stylist ma-am.”

Mistress Janet smiled indulgently.

“Alright then, hair stylist. But I’m not going to give up on you just yet.”

“What d’you mean ma-am?” I asked nervously.

“Yours is too good a head to waste entirely on hair. There’s a brilliant brain inside it as well.”

I was pleased with the compliment but became more nervous as Mistress Janet continued.

“I’m going to speak to Andre to try and persuade him to release you for lectures at New York State University.”

“But Ma-am; - I pleaded in vain.”

“There will be no buts about it Michelle. I refuse to let such a brilliant mind go to waste. If the fellow is as keen to have you as he says he is, then he can prove it. Lots of American students supplement their university fees by working nights.”

“I don’t need to supplement my income Ma-am, when my parents were killed they left Janice and me with a healthy inheritance.”

“Well you’re a very fortunate young lady. Nevertheless I still want you to complete some sort of university education. The idea of a brain like yours going to waste is just not acceptable. New York is a twenty four hour city; you could work later hours at his salon then attend college during the day.”

I felt that Mistress Janet was being a bit too bossy. After Simone and I left the school our lives were our own to do with as Simone wanted, (Don’t forget I’m a sissy and totally in thrall to my mistress!)

Fortunately Simone also wanted me to become an acolyte of Andre’ after all he was world famous. Consequently both my mistresses’ ambitions and mine coincided. I was to realise that being a sissy extended well into my adult life.

I had not realised that Miss Janet had previously got to my new mistress Simone and they agreed that I was not to let my talents go to waste. By the time graduation day had arrived, I was already enrolled in University on Washington Square Manhattan. The only advantage was that it was near Andre’s salon so travelling was no problem.

Mistress Janet and Simone might have got me enrolled against my will but I got my own back by choosing a pure maths degree course. When Mistress Janet found out about it she questioned me.

“I would have thought you’d have chosen a vocational degree, medicine or law.”

I lied and said that I considered maths to be a genuine intellectual challenge. I did not tell her that I had little intention of working too hard for any degree. With maths a student either understood it or not. If the principles and theory were understood, a student didn’t have to work much reading around a subject. That was my kind of degree. No long hours burning the candle at both ends studying legal case studies and reports or learning pages and pages medical names, terms and knowledge, not to mention the deductive slog when doing diagnosis. Besides, I had a brain like a computer and found long complex calculations to be fun, a doddle even as I often rattled off answers from my head while the rest of the class were still clicking away on calculators or computers. It did not endear me to the rest of the class until they asked me to represent the college at a national university brain quiz. Our freshman class came first by a country mile!

Give me a problem and I’d simply use the maths tools to sort it; then job done, off I’d go to the salon or gay clubs or bed. My fellow students soon got to be a little jealous of this ‘weird girl’ who always handed her assignments in on time yet rarely seemed to spend long hours poring over books. I found maths easy; furthermore I did not waste my valuable time helping other students. If they were stuck with a problem I gave them carte-blanche to my rough notes and left them to it.

I had learned my lessons about plagiarism so I never left my final notes to be copied. If my fellow classmates needed further help, well, they had tutors for that. I was too busy pursuing my true vocation, hair styling and sharing in the inexhaustible transgendered delights that New York had to offer.

The only rigid timetable I was locked into was milking time, twice a day and always shared with Simone. She was now my full-time mistress who had chosen a fashion course at the same college and that gave her huge flexibility. We were an extremely lucky couple to be enjoying our lives in the big apple. Auntie Jamie had funded Simone because her mother Morag cared for Jamie’s dad the earl whilst I had my allowance from my parent’s estate and a modest salary from Andre’s salon. As a couple, Simone and I got by and we found New York to be as liberating an experience as London.

In the salon, late one Sunday afternoon, (I didn’t like working much on Sundays but the money was good and the appointments were all with very busy wealthy New York career girls who had little time on weekdays to fuss about with their hair,) a lady entered after the salon had emptied. I had noticed her loitering outside obviously waiting until we were empty then she came in just before I managed to close up for the afternoon.

Andre had been pleased with my work that day and he said so. He met the girl and she whispered to him for several minutes before Andre turned and explained.

“Sorry about this one Midge, (That was his private name for me.) can you do a special and fit her in while I finish up the weeks accounts?”

I wasn’t best pleased but I was sissy and sissies did as they were told. Even for people who were not my mistresses. I sighed wearily and flipped my scissors dextrously into my hands as I stood poised behind the woman. Andre smiled at me, the scissors flipping trick had become my trade-mark, just like a ‘quick-draw’ artist in a western.

“I like you kid, despite attending that college up town you put in an honest day’s work.”

I smiled bashfully then chatted with the lady about her preferences.

“Oh you choose a style but don’t remove too much; I want to keep the length so my future options open.”

I shrugged and commenced styling the lady’s hair while Andre racked up the till and completed the accounts. When I’d finished the customer squealed with delight and handed me a huge tip. Later, as I was vacuuming up the cuttings, I saw her whispering to Andre who was smiling all over his face. After she had left, Andre helped finish cleaning up and then he invited me into his back office. I was a bit nervous cos it was quite late and Andre’ as the maestro would never have normally dirtied his hands with the cleaning. I thought I was going to get groped or something though I wasn’t entirely disgusted with the thought. Andre was very handsome but he didn’t know I was a sissy. Instead he turned to me.

“Do you know who that was?” He asked me as I stepped nervously into his office.

“Uuhhm, - no,” I answered quite honestly.

“That’s Dawn Robbins, the new star on Broadway. She’s just opened as the leading lady in the musical Manhattan Days and Nights.”

My jaw sagged as I recalled the new smash hit that everybody was raving about. I wasn’t much into musicals being a clubbing girl myself but just about everybody with cultural or literary pretensions in New York was going gaga over it.

“Oh, is that good then?” I asked innocently.

Andre almost choked over my naivety. Then he wagged his head and gently took my head in his hands as he kissed me.

“Oh my poor sweet innocent Michelle, don’t you realise what she’s just done?”

“Uuhhm, - no. But I think I’m about to find out.”

“Too damned right you are kid! She’s only gone and asked that you do her hair each time. She’s thrilled with your work! That means she’ll be coming in every week on Sunday late afternoons just before the early evening show. She’s thrilled with what you’ve done with her hair. Do you know how important this is?”

Again I stood slack-jawed and still uncomprehending as I wagged my head again.

“Uuhhm, - no!”

“Oh you poor little moppet. One of the sub plots in the musical is Dawn’s hair or rather Sandie’s hair. Sandie is the character she plays in the show.”

For a moment I didn’t get the connection then Andre explained.

“You see one of the sub-plots is that nobody knows where Sandie gets her hair done every week.”

“I, - but surely they do it at the theatre don’t they, I mean, - every night during make up and stuff.”

“Not on your life kid. She’s getting it done every week right here in my salon, - by you!!”

“Mee-ee!” I squeaked.

“Yes you! This is your biggest break kid, but you must never tell anybody until she’s finished her run. Then if the show gets a second run you must still keep it a secret until she completes her contract. You could be doing her hair every week for two or maybe even three years!”

I swallowed nervously.

“But why didn’t she ask you, - why me.”

“Your anonymous kid and she likes your work. A couple of her friends have been in here and she’s heard about your work from them. I told you, you were good! She’s waited a few weeks so her friends wouldn’t make any connection, then after getting the part she’s been checking your work for several days by spying on you through the salon window from Angelina's cafe across the street each evening after her rehearsals. Then she’d check out the customer’s hair after they left the salon. She chose you kid cos your work’s good!”

“I swallowed nervously. I’d only been working for Andre for a couple of months and now my work was going to be on show each night on Broadway. Andre sensed my fear.”

“Don’t let it get to you girl. She likes your work. Grab your chance. Oh, and don’t try to smarm around her. Be honest when you’re discussing styles especially when deciding what’s possible and what’s not. You’re the genius with hair love not Dawn Robbins, -she’s just the singer okay! She’ll be looking to you for advice! Don’t worry, I’ll be on hand to help you there and we can discuss ideas each Sunday afternoon before she comes in.”

I fell tearfully into Andre’s arms, overwhelmed with the sheer unbelievability of the evening’s events. He held me tight to him because he was every bit as excited as I was. Despite Andre’ already having an international reputation, Dawn Robbins’ choice of his salon was a huge feather in his cap.

After closing up he took me for a drink then, like the gentleman he was, he put me off outside my apartment. My breasts were bursting to be milked and Simone was not in a very good mood when I turned up late for milking. It was not made easier by my being unable to explain why I was late. All I could do was tell her that on Sundays I’d be late coming home for the foreseeable future.

“So what about milking, how shall we get around that?” She demanded.

For the moment I couldn’t see a way forward but after sleeping on it I found a solution. As we shared our morning milking session I explained.

“I could buy another milking machine and keep it at Andre’s.”

“Where will you get the money for that?”

I pulled the hundred dollar note from my purse and explained.

“This new client is a big tipper.”

Simone’s eyes widened with surprise and delight. To us students despite our private allowances, one hundred bucks was still a tidy sum. I put an immediate call through back home to order another machine.

Two weeks later it arrived and Andre allowed me to install it in one of his back store-rooms. In fact, that particular room had become mine by default because now several other ladies were asking for me personally. What I liked about Andre was that he showed no jealousy of my skills and was more than happy to recommend me to new customers who had come looking for his services. The business started to expand rapidly but we still closed officially at three on Sundays, specifically to accommodate Dawn Robbins’ arrangement. It remained a successful secret for two whole runs on Broadway, mainly because we had altered ‘my store-room’ into a private salon away from prying eyes and the street. Fortunately, we had so much spare equipment in there that Dawn never wondered about all the different apparatus, including my milker. She was used to the clutter of the dressing room and ‘make up’ plus she was free of prying eyes when she was at her most vulnerable. In fact she started to think of it as one of her few refuges. So much so that Andre gave her a key to the back door. She took to slipping in at the back un-noticed as early as two o’clock on the Sundays then she would sit in what had become my store-room sipping a quiet coffee and reading magazines while Andre and I finished up out front.

A hiccup came when Andre decided to attend a big hair fashion event in Rome and left me to run the shop. It was over the Christmas holidays and lots of our clients had left New York for their family re-unions over Christmas and New Year. Despite the turndown I was a quite busy working single-handed in the Salon that Sunday before Christmas so Simone was helping me out and earning some extra dough. I had been told that the Broadway show was closed for Christmas and New Year so Dawn Robbins was not expected.

Simone and I had closed up at about fiveish, after my having worked single handed while Simone made herself useful by shampooing the hair and cleaning up behind me. Many of Andre’s personal clients were quite happy to let me do their hair for they were anticipating the latest European styles when Andre returned. This had made us late but we weren’t going anywhere until much later so working until five o’clock was no big deal. Eventually we locked up and Simone giggled as she asked me a favour in the back rooms.

“Can you do my hair in some shocking, ‘in your face’ style for the’ way out’ party tonight?”

I grinned. Simone had a fabulous head of hair and I had often debated what would happen with a full head of hair set up in some tall, spiky, punk style. Simone’s hair was just begging to be experimented on.

Having decided to try something new, I sat Simone down in my ‘store-room’ and we set about experimenting. Amid much laughter and gasps of disbelief I finally styled an outrageous head of hair and we cackled with laughter as our breasts began to ache.

“Oh shit!” Simone sighed. “I need to be milked! Is it that late?”

“Me too,” I agreed as I hefted my aching boob. “It’s okay we can use my spare milker while I set your hair.”

“Brilliant,” giggled Simone, “two birds with one stone.”

Thus we sat facing each other being milked while the dryer set Simone’s hair.
We had hardly started milking when we suddenly heard the back door being opened. Both of us froze nervously for we were not
expecting anybody, especially someone with a key.

“Who can that be?” Simone wondered nervously.”

“It can only be one of four people who’ve got keys.”

“Who?” Simone pressed.
“It’s either me or Andre, who’s in Rome or Dawn Robbins, or Eddie the caretaker of the whole building. It’s probably Eddie.”

“He can’t see us like this!” Simone squeaked.

“Like I don’t know!” I riposted as I closed off my suction valves, disconnected myself reluctantly from the breast pump and stepped to peep through the door of my store-room. To my surprise it wasn’t Eddie but Dawn Robbins. She saw the crack of light as I had opened the door and crossed over.

“Is that you Midge?” (She had taken to using Andre’s nickname for me.)

“Uuhhm yes. What d’you want?”

“Look at my hair. It’s a mess. Some idiot just splashed me with a big truck and I’m filthy. I was just going to a party. I saw your car outside and wondered if you were still open. Can you do something, pleease?!!!”

I muttered under my breath and she garnished my mood. It was getting late and my boobs were really beginning to ache.

“Pleeease!!! Midge. It’s an important party. Just about anybody who’s anybody will be there.”

“OK. Can you wait for about half an hour? I’ve got my partner with me and we’ve been experimenting. We weren’t expecting anybody.”

Dawn’s eyes widened with curiosity.

“Ooooh! Can I see?”

“Well, it’s a bit personal. She’s somewhat inconvenienced at the moment.”

“I’ll wait,” she said, “I’ll make us all some coffee.”

So saying, Dawn stepped into my store-room and was confronted by Simone with her hair under the dryer and her breasts being milked. Her Jaw dropped as Simone cursed helplessly. I struggled not to get annoyed for Dawn was a much valued customer.”

“You should have waited. I did say my partner was inconvenienced!”

“Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ll wait outside.”

Simone bailed everybody out by accepting the situation.

“No, she might as well stay and make coffee now. She’ll only wonder why it’s taking so long.”

“But what about, - what about me?” I pleaded.

“Well it’s no secret now is it,” Simone replied resignedly as she turned to face Dawn, “just don’t tell anybody OK. Anyway why are you here? A famous actress like you should be, - oh my God! It’s you isn’t it, the hair thing with Manhattan Days and Nights!! Are you saying Michelle is your stylist? The girl who does all those fantastic hairstyles!”

Dawn cursed as she realised her emergency had compromised our arrangement after months of successful secrecy. She turned to me with apology writ huge over her frown.

“Shit, I’m sorry Midge, I should have been more circumspect.”

Simone gasped as she realised the situation. Already, Dawn Robbins was considering changing stylists.

“No! Dawn. It’s okay. Your secret’s safe, I’m Michelle’s partner. We live together, I’d never hurt Michelle by revealing her vital secret. Your secret’s safe with me honestly. Sit there and have a cup of coffee.”

“Are you sure?” Dawn pressed as she turned to me. “I know I can trust you and Andre but this lady, can she keep a secret?”

“She keeps plenty of secrets,” I replied, “but you can’t drink your coffee in here.”

“Oh, why not?”

I turned to stare hard at Simone who had unthinkingly invited Dawn to occupy the arm chair while I needed to finish milking. I made a discreet sign to my swollen breasts and Simone suddenly realised. I hadn’t finished milking! Simone grasped the nettle.

“Oh I forgot Dawn, Michelle’s got a small medical problem, it’s a bit personal so can I respectfully ask you to wait outside for half an hour?”

It was Dawn’s turn to be baffled.

“What sort of medical problem takes half an hour?”

Then she noticed the damp patches spreading under my overall. My breasts had started leaking. She gasped partly with surprise and partly with pleasure.

“Oh! You’re, - you’re leaking! Your breasts, you’ve got milk as well!”

I cursed softly but now had to face the music. One girl lactating meant a probable baby somewhere but two girls lactating was more than a coincidence to Dawn’s sharp mind. Especially as Dawn now realised that the ‘milking machine’ had connections for four nipples and neither of us had horns.

“What’s going on here?” Dawn asked suspiciously.

“It’s a private thing,” Simone replied, “we’re both lactating and when we’re out and about we have to express our milk mechanically.”

Dawn looked down at the bottle being steadily filled with Simone’s milk.

“That’s a huge bottle and you’ve already put, -(she squinted at the figures on the bottle.), good God! — You’ve already expressed nearly a litre. What the hell are you? Dairy Cows!!”

“Don’t be nosey. Our lactation needs are our concern!”

Dawn shrugged then turned to me.

“Do you produce this much milk as well?”

I nodded and shrugged as I tried to appear casual and unconcerned. As Simone had rightly pointed out, ‘our lactation was our concern.’ Dawn was not to be so easily dismissed.

“So, if you’re lactating, then there’s a baby or babies somewhere.”

“Not necessarily.” I argued. “Maybe our metabolisms just work this way.”

“What! You mean you produce milk all the time.”

“Exactly!” I snapped as I sat down and attached the cups to my own spurting breasts. Dawn just gaped.

“Have you got babies, stashed away somewhere, ready to drink all this?”

“No,” Simone replied,”

“So what happens to this milk? D’you sell it, - to hospitals I mean? — You know for premature babies or something.”

Simone said nothing. It wouldn’t do to lie about our milk. She could have sold her milk to a hospital because it wasn’t technically ‘sissy milk’ and it would not affect any babies. I of course, could not give my milk to boy babies because of the sissyfying hormonal effects. What we actually did was donate the milk to an orphanage for girls where it would do no harm and a lot of good. Most of it went to premature baby girls born drug addicted. We told Dawn this and her attitude changed immediately.

“You mean you give it to the nuns, to charity!”

“Well yes and no, - we give it to charity but it’s not a religious orphanage. We do not give it to the nuns, it’s a secular organisation.” I replied hoping that this answer would close the issue.

It stopped Dawn’s questions but now she started praising us.

“So you, actually give your milk away for free to the orphans.”

“That’s what I said didn’t I?”

“Why that’s just beautiful. So when will you stop producing?”

“After the menopause.” Simone added.

“What! What d’you mean?”

“You heard me!” Simone repeated. “After the menopause.”

“So you’ll be doing this until your fifty something, for the rest of your working life!”

“That’s roughly when the menopause is usually complete.” I added.

“How come? Why do your bodies do that?”

“It’s the way we are. Anyway, it’s nice to be able to help somebody else who’s needier than us.”

Dawn wagged her head and blinked disbelievingly.

“Well! I’ve heard of the milk of human kindness but I’ve never actually seen it for real. This is just so cool!”

“Ok. Don’t go on about it. You came to have your hair sorted. So lie back and let Simone shampoo your hair while I finish up with my milk. I’ll get to your hair straight after.”

As dawn settled into the familiar chair Simone ducked from under her drier. Her spectacular hair style was done. Dawn stared at it and gasped disbelievingly.

“Oh my god! Did you do that Midge?”

“Who else.”

“Could you do something like that for me, - here, - now?”

“Flippin’ heck Dawn It’ll take about two hours! Look at all the colours in it for a start! We’re supposed to be at the club for nine for the Christmas party. It’s nearly half seven now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Okay then, just clean it up and do a quickie.”

With that Simone set to with the shampoo whilst I finished up milking. By eight thirty we were finished up. Dawn was pleased with her hair but still looked enviously at Simone’s head. I had to almost push her out of the door as we rushed to make the deadline for the club. She wanted to know what club we were going to and I was a little reluctant to tell her. I didn’t want my private life mixed up with my work. Lots of people still disapproved of transgendered girls so I left it to others to spread the gospel. I had no trouble passing and only got a very occasional stare at my wasp thin waist, mainly if I was wearing a body hugging outfit. At college I tended to wear leggings and loose tops with saggy belts slung low on my hips. In three years at uni, nobody ever read me.

Reluctantly, I revealed what club we were going to and Dawn stared at me with surprise written over her face.

“But that’s a gay club!”

“So! It’s also a bloody good club and the crack is terrific. Come on now, we’re late as it is.”

Reluctantly Dawn departed but I got the feeling she wanted to know more about our clubbing habits. I wasn’t too keen to tell her and I turned to Simone.

“Forget the cleaning,” I said, “we’re late for the club.”

Back at the apartment we had to rush but we eventually got to the club with seconds to spare.

Simone’s hair won first prize for the most outrageous statement and several clubbers came up to us during the night asking for appointments. I gave them Andre’s card and told them to fix an appointment with Trixie our receptionist. Things were certainly looking up for me.

After the Christmas dinner and the judging Simone and I got down to some serious dancing. We like jiving and the disc jockey knew us so he indulged us occasionally. The standard of dancing at the club is high because many professional dancers get down there to hang loose. There were some really groovy chicks who were fabulous movers not to mention the boys. We were having a ball and Simone and I were well away. Frequently other dancers cut in because Simone’s hair attracted lots of attention then, when girls who had cut in got talking to Simone and found out I was the stylist; they chatted to me. As the night wore on I was changing dance partners about every three dances and hardly noticing who I was dancing with, likewise Simone. It was wild!

At about midnight a new partner cut in as I was raving away and it was several seconds before I recognised Dawn Robbins. For about half a second I paused in surprise then smiled and invited her to link.

“Gosh, I didn’t know you came here! D’you jive?”

“Not well, but if you can teach me.”

“Okay, but I’ll take the man’s part, is that okay?”

“Suit’s me I’m a girly sort of girl.”

“So what caused you to leave your smart party; with all those famous people and all?”

“Oh it just got boring. Too many randy old farts trying to get into my pants with offers of parts in other shows. I’m happy with Manhattan Days and it’s still playing to full houses.”

“So you’re staying then,” I smiled as I span her into a basket return.

“Well for the next few runs at least. I’m here for three seasons. That’ll pay for a permanent apartment downtown. The show’s a real hit.”

“Wow! Lucky you!”

“And you. There’ll be my hair.”

I gasped and scanned around.

“Shhh. Walls have ears!”

“Oh shit,” she cursed but fortunately nobody appeared to have overheard. The music was too loud anyway.

We fell to chatting for several dances before Simone cut in.

“Can I have my man back please?”

Without thinking, Dawn relinquished possession of me then declared she was going to get some drinks. I told her where our table was and she disappeared between the dancers as Simone and I swung easily into our familiar routine. After an enjoyable session we took a break and found Dawn sitting thoughtfully at our table. It was in the quiet area where people could chat without having to bellow above the noise of the music. Several of the regular clubbers had recognised her sitting alone and thoughtful in the subdued lighting and she had been compelled to preserve our seats as people asked to join what they thought was ‘her table’. So much for the price of fame. As we returned and slumped grinning into our seats Dawn turned to Simone.

“So you two are an item then?”

We both nodded as I bent forward to pick up Simone’s aching feet, rest them on my lap and loosen her sandals.

“Oooh! Thanks love; now massage them.” Simone sighed blissfully for she had been dancing non-stop since the judging.

As I busied myself with Simone’s feet Dawn asked again.

“You said that Midge was ‘your man’; exactly how? I mean you’re lipstick girls aren’t you?”

“No. It’s nothing like that.” Simone replied noncommittally, “I’m her mistress, she’s my sissy.”

“What the heck does that mean?” Dawn frowned uncomprehendingly.

“Oh, it’s a private arrangement we have. You wouldn’t understand.”

“But you’re gay, right?”

Simone and I exchanged sly smiles then Simone replied.

“Well no; we’re not actually. Michelle’s a sissy, a feminised boy. By the way, seeing as you’re down here for one of the best and most popular nights of the year, you must be a member to have got in; it’s ticket only tonight and this is a gay club, or at least an alternative life-styles club. You’d have to be a member. Are you gay?”

Dawn recoiled fearfully from Simone’s question.

“Shush! I don’t want people to know. Think what they’d do to me on the show. They’d crucify me for every stud in the apple is slavering after my arse. Anyway, as it happens, I’m bi.”

“Oooh! Lucky you. Double the fun then.” I grinned disarmingly. “So you like us little boys as well as little girls?”

“Are you really a boy?” Dawn pressed.

“Yes she is,” Simone replied for me, “so how did you get in? Without a ticket that is!”

Dawn lowered her eyes guiltily.

“Fame has it’s uses and the girl on the door fancied me. I gave her some tickets for the show and she let me in. The table places and booking parts for the meal and the judging were the only parts affected by ticket allocation and they’re long finished. I came late cos of the previous party and also hoping to meet you girls.”

“So where you looking for some action or what?”

“Not really, I could get all the action I wanted anywhere. I just wanted to hitch up with you two again. Just to chat really. You’re not always trying to latch onto me. It’s relief just to meet two genuine people who aren’t always fawning around or trying to use me or something.”

Simone and I exchanged surprised glances. Then Simone explained.

“Well we’ll be leaving about three-ish. We’ve got to open the Salon at ten. Working girls and all that. Will you be okay getting home that late? Have you ordered a taxi? It’s the last Sunday before Christmas don’t forget. It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow. There are parties all over the city tonight.”

“Ahh shit! I decided to come here last minute cos I was sick of the phonies at the party. I forgot.”

“Well you’d better try and order one.” Simone suggested. “Doubt you’ll get one though. All good little taxi drivers will be fully booked.”

Dawn tried several numbers on her mobile and failed. Her smile faded as it became obvious there was little chance of finding one that night. Simone tried on her phone and failed then we asked one of our friends at the reception desk. Same result. Zilch.

I observed ruefully.

“If the club can’t find one then nobody can. What about sharing one with another club member?”

“That’s a good idea; could I share your taxi with you?” Dawn asked.

“None starter I’m afraid,” Simone replied. “We live just a couple of doors down. We don’t even lose sight of the bouncers. Safest walk home in the apple probably. And they all know us. Short of a drive-by shooting, nobody’ll ever get to mug us.”
Dawn fell silent and I sensed where this was going. It took but a few moments before she looked at Simone.

“Could I use your sofa? Just for tonight that is.”

“Well you’ll have to come home with us then. I wouldn’t want you knocking us up at six or something.”

“Hell I had no intention of staying that late. Normally I’m in bed by one, what with the show and everything.”

Simone looked at me and I frowned slightly. We’d never had a guest stay over and we considered our little apartment as a sort of sanctuary. It wasn’t much but it was ours. The whole family had rallied around with funds and we’d bought the lease for as long as we were in college with an option to extend it if we stayed on afterwards. It looked as though that option might be exercised seeing as how my hair-styling work was getting noticed. Our lifestyle was to say the least very ‘alternative’. I looked at Dawn questioningly as I double checked.

“You’ll have to take us as we are you know.”

“Meaning,” Dawn wondered.

“Well there’s the milking, and the sissy thing and we sleep together. Oh and the bathroom isn’t en-suite. We have to walk through the living room to go for a pee. Don’t be surprised to see us walking through the living room naked. Finally, our sofa isn’t that big, you’ll have to curl up a bit.”

“Well the naked bit might be interesting if you have got what you say you’ve got. I’ve slept in plenty of crazy places when I was making it. What d’you think I did before I made it big? I’ve curled up on plenty of sofas; and floors for that matter. You won’t even notice I’m there. I promise. The other question is will I be safe with you two?”

“You asked to stay over, not us.” Simone pointed out.

“Yeah. And that’s a point. At least I know you’re not coming on to me. Thanks for letting me sleep over. You guys are for real, thanks.”

“Well, it’s nearly two o’clock.” I observed, “If we’re going to get some more dancing in we’d better step out.”

“So darling save the last dance for me,” Simone sang as we got to our feet.”

Dawn looked up and wondered.

“Can Midge dance double headed?”

“You mean jive with two girls together? Yeah. Easy.”

“Can I join you then?”

“If you want,” Simone replied adding; “I’ll dance lefty cos I’m more attuned to Midge and our moves.”

Thanks, let’s get kicking then. I saw you dancing earlier. You can hold your heads up in this club and I know quite a few of the guys here who are professionals. We’ve worked in shows together.”

We made our way to the dance floor and picked up the beat. Dawn was a good dancer and we were soon thoroughly enjoying ourselves. Sadly three o’clock came around and despite our thoroughly enjoying ourselves, bedtime called. The salon had to work even on Christmas Eve because some customers wanted to look their best for family parties.

Back at the apartment, Simone and I unfolded the ‘put-you-up’ sofa and Dawn was suitably grateful. Simone and I slept until six when our tits woke us with their familiar call. Dawn heard us creeping around so she got up and joined us out of curiosity. We did not share our partner panties though. There are some secrets a girl likes to keep.

Dawn decided to make some coffee so she slipped my spare dressing gown over her bra and panties then sat smiling at us across the kitchen table as we completed our milking. She was fascinated by the whole situation. After emptying our tits we crept back to bed. We still weren’t needed at the salon until ten. As we cuddled up Dawn looked at us enviously.

“Are you two just cuddling in there?” She asked.

“Why?” Simone replied. “Why d’you ask?”

“That’s a big bed and it’s cold on the sofa.”

Simone and I exchanged smiles. There was always room in our bed for a pretty one!

“Okay then,” Simone smiled. “You can squeeze Midge between us like the meat in the sandwich.”

Dawn needed no further persuading. She stepped out of my dressing gown and slid eagerly beside me as her beautiful body garnished my warmth.

“Gosh. You are cold,” I giggled as her soft, goose-pimpled thigh inveigled itself between my soft, slender legs. Simone then slid her leg between my thighs and both girls giggled salaciously. Next an inquisitive little, unfamiliar hand came exploring my intimate sissy bits.

I was as hard as any cock could be but Dawn seemed a little puzzled. She rose up on one arm to speak across me to Simone. (Dawn had already sussed out the mistress — sissy relationship structure.)

“Midge’s cock, - it’s small isn’t it?”

“She’s a sissy Dawn,” Simone explained. “Sissy’s cocks are small, that is if they have a cock at all.”

“Oh. I see. Well I learn something new every day.”

“Dawn then hesitated thoughtfully before plucking up the courage to ask.”

“Simone.”

“Yes darling,” Simone replied anticipating the question.

“Would you really mind if I, - you know, - uuhhm, - like, borrowed it for a while.”

“How long is ‘a while darling? We have to be at the Salon for ten.”

“Oh gosh no! Not that long. Just for a quickie I mean.”

Simone giggled and spoke to me.

“See darling, that’s what most women are like. Find you, feel you, fuck you and forget you. She’s just like all the girls!

They treat poor little sissies something rotten! Now d’you see why it’s much nicer having a firm, strong, caring mistress to look out for you?”

I turned and gazed into Dawn’s eyes.

“If you have my baby, will you promise not to abandon me?”

She started laughing and slapped me playfully.

“You silly sissy. Come here!”

With that she hugged me to her and planted the most delicious kiss on my unsuspecting lips. As our faces met, dawn glanced at Simone who nodded assent. Dawn could have access to my sissy bits. With no more ado she manoeuvred herself onto my little organ and quickly indulged herself. She came before I did and that bemused her. As she commenced a second session she asked both of us in a husky whisper.

“Do sissies always take this long to come?”

Simone confirmed this and Dawn giggled contentedly as she drove herself to new heights.

During her third orgasm, I joined her in mutuality and she squealed with satiated delight. Then she collapsed on me and our breasts mashed together as we each felt the other’s heart-beat thundering away. Soon Dawn was fast asleep and after dozing briefly ourselves, we rose and left her snoring contentedly. As we left for the salon, Simone looked at ‘sleeping beauty’ and grinned.

“That’s probably one of the best fucks she’s had since going on stage.”

“I hope so,” I replied, “I wouldn’t want to ever be accused of being a selfish sissy or a poor performer.”

“Oh that will never be,” Simone smiled, “you’ve been fixed the way you are and now you can never change. I had a long chat with Mistress Janet on graduation day. You’re one of her experiments and you are one huge success my dear. I should know cos I test drive you every night, except of course when I’m indisposed or sharing you.”

“I hope you don’t share me out too much mistress.”

“Why? Didn’t you like Dawn?”

“Well, - yes mistress, but, - you know. A sissy needs her mistress.”

“Oh don’t you worry your pretty little head darling. I won’t abuse that beautiful little cock and body of yours. I’m not some sort of cruel pimp. I know when I’ve got a good deal. Now, - drive darling, we’re a little late. It’s Christmas Eve darling. The sooner we finish the sooner we get home.”