Where Michelle finds requittal for what was done to her in the brothel (lucky Michelle,) and starts on the slow road to recovery from the rapes.
This is the penultimate chapter of Sissyfarm. Truth to tell, I've got rather stale with it.

Sissydom was never one of my forte's. I wasn't effeminate as a child, in fact I was quite an active 'sportsman' and I sometimes think that is why doctors could not make head nor tail of my sexuality. If I felt threatened, (especially on the playing fields in borstal,)I was very violent and confrontational but that simply precipitated me into unwelcome and sometimes dangerous situations.

I think psychopathic fifteen and seventeen year-old criminals could not make sense of a twelve-year-old child, who was frequently caught wearing a frock in the evenings, whilst simultaneously being aggressive confrontational, fairly skilled and yet unco-operative at sport; - hence the beatings I suppose.

I never could explain it but that was no excuse to break my bones, 'was it?'

My stories explore many varied and unsusual aspects of sex and sexuality but that's just me I suppose. I make no excuses, I make no apologies. I don't hurt others physically and they have no right to hurt me with violence.

29 Sissy Farm.

Chapter 29

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 the academy.
Sophia and Angelica Victoria and Jemima’s friends.
William & Morag Bandy Gypsy Mum and Dad.
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.
Shirley and Jasmine Friends from New York.

I wasn’t alright though. As Simone gently lowered me to the bed a lady police officer followed her colleague into the room. She was better trained and better equipped to deal with my trauma. The armed copper glanced around the room then nodded at me and left. He had done the job he had trained for and left his female colleague to pick up the pieces, my pieces. She sat on the bed beside me as Simone continued hugging me and making gentle shushing noises as I buried my face into her blouse and started wailing with relief. Simone hugged me tighter whilst the WPC waited sympathetically, nodding and smiling her support.

“There there darling!” Simone murmured softly. “Cry all you want, you’ve been brave and strong.”

“You have indeed my girl. That was a brilliant move with the petticoat.” The WPC agreed.

I continued simply sobbing and shaking for nearly half an hour but nobody seemed to mind. Simone smiled apologetically toward the police officer but she just waved her hand and wagged her head.

“Let her cry. She needs it. Sometimes they just cry for hours, sometimes they are just angry, mostly they are just numb and terrified. This girl has been brilliant. We’ve got the bastards.”

I stopped crying briefly, long enough to ask, - “Did you get the bald one? The big one with the little scar by his ear?”

The police officer pursed her lips.

“I don’t know who we’ve got yet. They’re all lined up down stairs. Are you up to talking yet?”

I started crying again and Simone hugged me again as the police officer gently held my hand. Eventually, after several false starts, I regained some composure and spoke without the choking sobs breaking up my words. The police officer now became proactive and she hugged me to create a female empathy. For long moments I clung on to both Simone and the Police officer.

“My name’s Jackie, Michelle and I’ll be staying with you until you’re sorted. Are you up to coming down stairs and facing the bastards?”

I looked her straight in the eye and nodded. Simone hugged me tighter again and Jackie followed suit. That final combined hug helped me set my resolve. Simone gave me a hanky and I dried my tears. I looked in the mirror and asked if I could repair my face but Jackie explained.

“Your tears are important. The other girls are downstairs. You were the last to be located. The other girls are just too numb with the experience to function. They are also terrified because they are foreign girls. Seven of them, all European. If they see you have been crying then talking and naming names, it might encourage them. Are you up to facing an ad-hoc identity parade?”

I tensed angrily as my distress started metamorphosising into rage. The officer sensed my mood change and quickly explained.

“Let’s do it now, you’re eyes are red rimmed and it’s obvious you’ve been crying. If you can, let the other girls see you crying as you identify these bastards it will help them empathise with you and each other. Are you up to it now?”

I set my jaw and nodded then rose shakily to my feet. Both women supported me as I wobbled unsteadily down the stairs. The giant armed police officer was among the assault team waiting at the bottom and he smiled at me solicitously before stepping ahead of us into the room. I followed behind him and saw my abductors and abusers lined up and handcuffed. Suddenly they didn’t look so dangerous and they certainly did not faze me. I felt my heart give a little flip of relief as I started to savour retribution. The WPC took me outside again and explained briefly.

“You don’t have to give any indications that you’ve recognised them though if you do, it might reassure the other girls and persuade them to talk. The girls will be here as well, watching you. Are you up to facing these thugs, eye to eye?”

“You bet I am!” I growled back.

“Good girl. Now, we are going to bring the other girls in.”

I stood in the hall as the other girls were led past me into the room and given armchairs and sofas to sit on. I recognised the seating trick as a ploy to help empower the girls who were traumatically cowed. A lady Police inspector sat with them but able to hear everything I said. She was also a translator. Waiting in the hall, Jackie smiled at me and I nodded; I was ready!

Simone was allowed to accompany me for support as Jackie and another WPC led me slowly down the handcuffed line. I made a point of identifying each one, and naming their names where I could. For good measure in addition to this simple information, I gave a brief description of any harm they had done me.

My mathematical brain empowered my memory as I related chapter and verse, crimes, dates and locations when I and some of the other girls had been taken to other venues. You see, I knew London, unlike the other girls who as foreigners could not recognise places that I easily recognised. I felt Jackie squeeze my arm with delight and the other WPC’s eyes brighten with satisfaction as she noted the video cameras recording everything while she wrote copious additional shorthand notes. The lady inspector also flashed me a brilliant smile as I slowly worked my way down the line. It was fully twenty minutes before I had finished and I could sense the feeling of total victory in the room. More importantly as the lady Police inspector translated my words to the girls they visibly grew in confidence and resolve. It was for me a very rewarding day save for one small snag.
The gang boss, the brute with scar by his ear had not been caught. As I discussed this with the police squad leader we decided on setting a trap. The police had arrived secretly to gain the element of surprise so there had been no squad cars and sirens screaming in the street. Indeed the rest of the street was going about its business oblivious to the action in the house.

The police decided it was worth trying so the waiting time was used up by finally persuading the girls to give evidence. We all knew that the gang leader usually only came around at night so they whipped me off to hospital for forensics. Simone accompanied me and we explained our unusual needs to the surprised forensic surgeon as he swabbed my genitals and rectum, took endless blood samples then photographed my wrecked anus. He wagged his head in disbelief but kindly provided us with breast pumps and we partially evacuated our tits of milk. I returned to the house as dusk was falling to provide identification when the thug turned up. It took several hours and night had fallen before the gang leader finally showed up. I identified him as he emerged from his Car and the trap was sprung. He had double parked his Mercedes illegally with all the arrogance of a solicitor or barrister and strolled confidently up the garden path before he recognised the damage to the front door.

He was obviously alert to the probabilities of Police raids and he promptly turned about with a view to escape. Too late! Six unmarked police cars and a dog handler van had blocked the street both ends. I had to admire the police. They obviously knew what sort of thug they were dealing with and they had come prepared. Never mind all the bullshit people tell you about overkill, it takes manpower to search for, locate, pursue and capture a man in the darkened suburban streets and gardens of West London and this man had obviously pre-planned his escape route. What was worse is that he was thought to be armed. He had certainly been carrying a gun when I was sold to him. A helicopter could not be used because of the proximity to Heathrow’s flight path so the tracker dogs proved to be worth their weight in gold.

After a frantic foot chase across garden walls and back alleys he was finally apprehended and taken down the nick.

Back in the house, the squad leader finally put his radio in its shoulder-holster and smiled at Simone and me.

“That’s a good job done ladies. Might I respectfully ask you to come down to the nick and prepare a statement?”

“Can we do it tomorrow?” Simone asked. “She’s had a traumatic day!”

The officer smiled benignly and offered us a lift. His driver turned out to be Jackie so we directed them to Auntie Jamie’s pub in Pimlico and on route we decided to explain our circumstances. The squad leader listened fascinated as he concluded.

“Ahh! So that’s why you were abducted. Well I’d never have guessed you’re transgendered and I can usually spot them. You’re good girl. We couldn’t work out why they would risk kidnapping a British girl. So they wanted to add something extra to their business, a Tee girl! Of course, now it makes sense.”

Both Simone and I liked the way he was not judgemental and to show our gratitude we invited him and Jackie into the pub for a meal. It was long past his shift time so they accepted and their eyes widened as they realised it was an ‘alternative life-style’ venue. They made light of it however and joked harmlessly as they confessed to ‘learning something more every day’.

“Nothing new,” Jackie explained over the food, “but certainly something more! Jack and I have worked together in the vice squad for years.”

“Think of it as having gathered more intelligence and expanding your ring of contacts,” Auntie Jamie explained as she came to join us at the table. Now girls, as soon as you’ve finished your meal it’s gone milking time. You must be bursting!”

Our breasts were slightly uncomfortable for the session in the hospital had lightened the load but we were grateful to Jamie for enabling us to excuse ourselves. We left the explanations to Jamie and the following morning Jackie came to collect us to take us to the nick.

There was another identity line-up but I had no problem identifying the thug nor did some of the other girls.

Of the seven victims, three had the courage to step forward, walk down the line then confirm his identity. Once the girls were reassured that no action was being taken against them, (they were EEU citizens) they started to co-operate. Two of them could also provide a lot more information and the police nodded with supreme satisfaction as the girls described other locations and brothels that the thug owned and / or ran. As Jackie ran Simone and me back to Auntie Jamie’s hotel she switched on the radio to enlighten us. Jack was already leading another successful raid while his immediate subordinate was leading the other. All in all it was a very successful and rewarding couple of days for the Vice Squad.

For me the revenge upon my odious uncles Arnold and William accorded me some requital but I still had serious issues. Earl Weston arrived with Auntie Beverly Shirley and Jasmine and they took me home. All I wanted was to shower for hours then go to bed and somehow try and rid my mind of the nightmares. As I lay staring vacantly at the ceiling in my bedroom Simone sat with me then lay with me and finally curled up with me to somehow offer security. I must admit that it was nice to feel her warm body curled around mine as I snuggled up into the kootch her curves provided. I felt like a baby wrapped up in its mother’s arms and truthfully that’s what I needed to feel.

For a month, I stayed at home indoors, not even caring (or was that daring?) to go out in the grounds; not even travelling to Heathrow to wave goodbye to Shirley and Jasmine at the airport. However they understood and promised to return as soon as they were able after our baby was born.

Even with all the family rallying round I still felt threatened and vulnerable; always tensing if a man walked into the room, even Grandpa Weston. It was nearly three months before I was able to go out in the village let alone travel up to London. My mind was completely f----d!

Then by a total accident, we found a viable therapy. One cold, wet, overcast evening the house phone rang. Grandpa Weston and I were the only ones home and I was lying on the settee with my head on his lap in front of a huge log fire. Grandpa Weston was watching some documentary on the telly and I was just gazing contentedly into the flames when the jangling bell blasted into our thoughts.

“Hello. Oh is that Michelle?” ‘Yes’. “Oh goodie, It’s Shirley, I’m just so glad I caught you; with that barn you live in, you never know who’s going to answer.’

“Well there’s only me and grandpa here at the moment, everybody’s up in London.”

“Well, never mind. Listen, I’ve got some trading opportunities that are a steal, are you up for it?”

I yawned, sleepily as Grandpa Weston turned idly to listen as I turned on the ‘voice’.

Shirley ran through some figures and I perked up as the opportunity to use my brain presented itself. I did some rapid mental calculations, which impressed Shirley and she squealed when my calculations closely matched those on her computer at her desk in New York. Close enough to confirm Shirley’s thoughts and she cut me in on the deal. After going long on the deal, we fell to chatting about family stuff and the forthcoming birth.

“The Baby’s expected in three weeks. Are you coming over?”

I hesitated but Grandpa Weston gently took the phone from my grasp and answered.

“Of course she’ll be there, she’s the daddy isn’t she?”

I gasped at his impudence to think he could speak for me, only Simone could do that.

“Grandpa!” I spluttered. “I, - I’m not ready! It, - it’s dangerous out there!”

“Of course you’re ready girl. I just saw you go through those trading calculations like a knife through butter. Your brain is as sharp as it’s ever been. You’re ready to return to a normal life.”

He spoke down the phone again to Shirley.

“I want you to phone her each day and go through at least five or ten of those calculations. I’ve just been watching her.

After she’d done the calculation, her self esteem rocketed. Her back straightened and her head looked up. She was Michelle the trader, Michelle the mathematician again. She’ll be there for the birth or I’ll know the reason why.”

After he’d finished he offered the phone again to me but I was so taken aback that I refused his offer. He spoke again briefly to Shirley and then put the phone down. That evening I spoke to Simone when she returned from London and asked that we moved to a place of our own. We had enough money to buy because our trading sessions with Shirley and Jasmine had long ago secured our independence.

“So why d’you want to live somewhere else?” Simone demanded.

I described the incident with the phone but Simone ‘poo-hooed’ it and flatly refused to agree to a move. I supposed Simone knew which side her bread was buttered on. We lived in a huge rambling country mansion and both her parents were right on hand.

“Listen Michelle,” she observed, “you’ve just about got it made here. You and I share a splendid private income from our trading successes, we don’t pay rent and we’ve both got our nearest and dearest relatives right to hand. The house is absolutely gorgeous and the grounds are fabulous! London is only just over an hour away and we’ve got a Pierre-de-Terre right in the centre of the city. Why d’you want to move?”

“I want to be in control of my life.”

“Listen you little sissy. I’m in control of your life and don’t you forget it.”

I immediately realised that I had overstepped the boundary.

“Oh! Yes! Of course mistress. But I thought you and I, - together, - our own little place.”

“Well, the answer’s no. We’re staying here and Grandpa Weston is right. You’re going to New York to attend at the birth of your baby. That is what fathers are supposed to do!”

I sighed. If mistress said it then that’s how it was. I pulled out the milking machine and set it up as she showered then she called me in and made me serve her before we finished off showering together. Finally, before dinner we shared a long relaxing milking session together and then went down to eat. Grandpa Weston glanced at Simone and she explained.

“She’ll be going to New York and that’s final.”

“Excellent. Try the soup, it’s beautiful.”

Simone motioned to me and I ladled out two portions, one for her and one for me.

“Mmm it is good Grandpa. I think I know what it is.” Simone declared as we both ladled a second portion into our bowls.

“You’d better ask Morag. She cooked it.” Grandpa Weston added.

Morag arrived with the main courses for herself and grandpa as she settled beside the old man Simone spoke to her mother.

“Is this what I think it is mum?”

“Yes darling, go on, tell your beloved Michelle.”

Simone turned to me and grinned.

“Promise me you won’t be disgusted now won’t you?”

“I’ll try mistress. So what is it?”

“Hare and hedgehog!”

I did a double take and peered into the tureen as Morag Bandy grinned.

“Don’t worry darling, you won’t find any bristles in there. D’you like it?”

I had to confess that I did and I finished the second portion, firstly because I really was enjoying it and secondly to demonstrate my approval. Grandpa Benson chuckled.

“Well Michelle, I haven’t tasted Morag’s soup for years, long before you were born. It’s wonderful to taste it once again.”

“Is this an old Gypsy soup then?” I asked Morag half knowing the answer.

She nodded and smiled.

“Yes. It used to be a regular when we camped in the woods because there were so many hares and hedgehogs around in the old days. Those were the days eh,” she turned and smiled at Earl Weston.

Grandpa nodded vigorously and remarked.

“Better hadn’t let the environmentalists know. They’ll moan like hell if they realise we’ve been catching hedgehogs.”

“Ah William says there’s plenty of them on your land again. Now that the estate has been fenced off from the new estates, the wildlife is safer; the incomers can’t bring their blasted dogs onto the estate nor can the domestic cats get on so easily. Just go into the woods and listen to the birdsong again.”

“So how does the wildlife get in and out?” I wondered.

Morag looked at me a little too condescendingly.

“Why Michelle, they fly in, they’re birds.”

“No, I mean the hedgehogs, the hares and stuff.”

Grandpa Weston explained.

“You’ve been away too long Michelle. Take a walk sometime instead of moping around the house all day. The estate is open to Jack Devonshire’s farm and land to the south and that is open to The Downs. Only determined country walkers get that far into the country and they respect the land. Jack’s farm is swarming with hares.”

I smiled as I finished the second portion. I had always imagined gypsy food as boiling in a big pot over an open fire but this soup sat equally well on a posh upper-class dining table in an ornate upper-class dining room. Simone and I nodded appreciatively and smiled at Morag.

“You should patent this and sell it as your own brand.” I advised.

“Yes mum. You could make a fortune.” Simone added. To think I used to eat this every week when we were travelling and I never realised just how good it was. Hare and hedgehog soup; delicious.”

Earl Weston grinned.

“Your American friends might call it ‘Road-kill’ soup.”

“Uugghh. Grandpa! That’s horrible!” I protested. “Tell him Morag!”

And so it went on for the remainder of the evening.

Morning broke cool and sunny so I bravely decided after milking and breakfast to ask Simone if I could go for a walk on The Downs with her.

“Good idea Beverly. It’ll get you out of the house. Let’s make a little picnic of it.”

She obviously recognised that I needed to get out of the house and a walk on The Downs in the cool autumnal days. Such an outing would be beneficial.

It was and I returned at dusk feeling thoroughly regenerated. Then Shirley phoned and presented me with her figures and I rattled the solutions off to her and Grandpa’s satisfaction. Three weeks later after lots of long country walks and nightly ‘Maths Therapy’ I was fit enough to go over to The Apple with Simone and I was present for the birth of my child; - only it wasn’t ‘a child’ it was twins! Shirley and Jasmine had kept it as a surprise.

I spent six months in New York savouring fatherhood with my new-born son and motherhood with my beautiful new daughter. I breast fed my daughter but Jasmine was adamant that I was not to feed my son. She wanted to see him grow into a strapping boy and man.