A Sissy Saga Ch. 13

Sammy turned him around and backed him up against the tree, and at last he could appreciate the delicate beauty he had with him. His hands stroked up and down his body, feeling the outline beneath the serge gymslip. Stunning was the word. Jemima was fabulous, his skin was smooth, his face round and soft and pierced by enormous almond-shaped eyes, while his lips had a slight natural pout that seemed to perpetually invite kisses. And he liked the way he smelled.

He moved nearer. "You smell so..."

"So what?"

"Different."

"From what?"

"Other people. Everyone smells different. You're sort of like pepper. You're an effeminate lovely, and one of the prettiest people here."

If he was flattering him it didn't really matter, it was the kind of thing every panty boy loved to hear and it made Jemima melt in blushes. "Are you going to be sexy with me?"

Sammy stood, swaying slightly, admiring the erotic image in front of him, feeling a warmth rising in his body, a puissant liquid feeling shot through with flashes of desire. The almond-shaped eyes were watching him, making his skin prickle. He was feeling more aroused by the minute.

He leaned closer and could smell Jemima's breath - a bit caramelly, like toffee. He touched his lips with his wet tongue, then pushed it into his mouth. Jemima kissed him back passionately and Sammy snuggled close. No one needed seducing because their thoughts were unified. Their mouths mashed attentively - adjusting, pressing - a lip sucked in, released and sucked again - a slight clash of teeth and a dewy movement of moist mouths.

Sammy behaved like a dog looking for its dinner, sucking with an open mouth, jaw chomping mightily. He smeared his mouth sideways and licked Jemima's cheek, then filled his ears with his tongue - wet flesh as slippery as a fish.

Reclining against the tree Jemima accepted everything stoically, eyes almost closed now, eyelids fluttering as their two fevered faces munched one with the other and exchanged a flood of warm saliva.

"Did you mean it when you said I was pretty?" gasped Jemima.

"Of course I did. You're succulently pretty. I'd like to kiss your nipples, but that silly gymslip gets in the way."

"I can pull it down if you want to get at my titties, but bedtime is best for kissing nipples."

"Yes, I know. But I'm not in the same dorm as you, am I? Gloria's always lurking about in the corridors and you know what she does if she finds someone roaming about at night." He thought for a moment. "Of course you could take your clothes off now. You could get undressed here."

Jemima twitched. "Clothes?"

"Yes."

"Undress?" his voice rose in a panic.

"Yes."

"It's nearly supper time."

"I shall have you as an hors d'oeuvre."

"Get undressed in the woods? No fear."

"Well, just your pants then. If you take off your knickers I'll take mine off too."

To show good faith he reached beneath his skirt and peeled his own underwear down over his legs. Jemima flapped his hands and his 'too-pretty-for-a boy' eyes took on a vague unfocused look when he stepped out of them. Grinning with the sinfulness of it all, Jemima slipped off his own panties. "You make me feel wicked."

Sammy felt positively confident. He felt assuaged, relaxed, feminine and bouncy as his cock rose up and stuck out at a right-angle to brush against the inside of his skirt.

He took a step towards his friend adoring the little struggle that wasn't really a struggle when he took him in his arms. There came a predictable little 'oh' of surprise when he gently bit the side of his neck and his teeth gently pulled at the tender skin.

Undeterred by his mild exclamation his fingers stroked his hips and started to inch up his skirt, lifting it up far enough to be able to settle himself against the bottom of his bare belly. Forcing Jemima's knees apart they were soon cock-on-cock, balls together, each plump pouch flattened against the other. Slipping his arms around behind Jemima's back he cupped a peachy bum cheek in each hand and pulled him close as his pelvis gyrated.

Jemima responded to the scrotum squashing on his own. Bad boy. Naughty sissy. Sammy's slavering erection was caressing his own stiff shaft, hormones were raging in their bodies and they were gasping and humping frantically in an erotic pseudo-fuck. Both knew they'd gone too far to quit without experiencing the best kind of thrills.

"I'm not a slut, Sammy." Jemima exclaimed shakily, "I don't usually let boys knob my bum until the second time I go with them. But I wouldn't mind if..."

A sudden noise shattered the quiet of the small glade and a voice edged with indignation cut through the trees like a scythe, instantly cooling their passion and making them tremble. It was a moment before they realised that although the voice was formidable it wasn't close enough to be directed at themselves. Nonetheless, Sammy couldn't relax until he'd discovered its source.

Scrambling away from Jemima he crept stealthily across to the nearby iron railings and peered through. "There's a car parked on the road." he said, pulling his head back.

"Who is it?" asked Jemima, coming up behind.

Sammy peeped again. "Women. Old women. One of them is talking loud and making the noise."

"What's so interesting about old women?"

"They look like they're talking about the school. The noisy one keeps pointing."

"So what?"

"Wait." Sammy interrupted, "They've seen us. They're coming this way."

"No way." Jemima cried.

"Yes they are." Sammy shrugged. "Don't panic. It's okay. We're not doing anything wrong."

"We haven't got any pants on."

"They won't know that if you don't lift your skirt."

The motor car chugged slowly along the gravel road until it came level with them, then the awful voice let itself known again. "Stop the car Mrs Tichborne. There's two of them there."

The car jerked to a halt and two elderly women clambered out and walked towards them. One was glowering, the other, with red hair and large bosom and a red face that hinted at regular association with cooking sherry, just seemed mystified. Both were decked out in long print dresses that covered everything but their shins and they looked like they were going to church.

Jemima took a pace back as they approached, but Sammy felt safe enough with a tall fence in front of him and stood his ground.

"They look fairly normal to me, Mrs Boroclough." said the puzzled lady. "Quite healthy, well presented and not at all malnourished."

The first woman snorted loud enough to frighten horses. "It doesn't matter what they look like, it's what they are that counts. This evil school should be torn down."

A third woman got out from the back seat of the car to join them. Small in stature with curious hair that looked like it had been fried. "School. Did someone say school?" she asked.

"Yes, there's two of the resident misfits standin' over there in gymslips an' straw 'ats." the one called Mrs Tichborne told her.

"I didn't notice. Oh yes, I see them now. Pretty schoolgirls."

"I wish you'd put on yer specs Miss Moffet, you know you're as blind as a bat wi' out em. Mrs Boroclough sez the Grange should never have been a school. She sez Albert Fairyfield intended to give it to the National Trust so they could do it up and attract a bit o' tourism."

"I don't see any harm in schools." said the smaller woman faintly.

Mrs Tichborne glowered at her. "I takes in lodgers, an' you's got a tea-shop. Seems to me a few tourists around here would make a nice change to the usual fertiliser salesmen, an' it wouldn't do either of our pockets any harm. A school only benefits grocer's like old Larkin."

"I suppose you're right. But we shouldn't take out our spite on innocent schoolgirls."

Mrs Boroclough sneered, her cheeks indenting to make her mouth look like a belly-button. "Except for the fact they're not what they seem. Except for the fact they're young men dressed as girls. I believe the woman here even gives them girls names." She stormed closer to the fence and glared at Sammy. "That's true, isn't it? Admit it."

"Miss Hancock says we're not allowed to talk to strangers." replied Sammy, bravely.

The woman growled. "It doesn't matter. It's quite obvious what you are."

"They look rather adorable in their neat uniforms." put in the littlest woman, mildly.

"They are house-trained puppies languishing in a den of inequity, Miss Moffet. We must strive with all our might to ease their plight. It's not natural for young men to be cross-dressed like this. It's bound to cause gender confusion in their simple minds."

Mrs Tichborne nodded. "Of course you're right, Mrs Boroclough. But even if that's true we cant go around kidnappin' 'em. Their own people - parents, guardians or whatever - they've paid for them to be here."

The Boroclough woman's eyes narrowed. "Parents. Guardians. Huh, such decadent degenerates that put them in this place should be burnt at the stake." She glared at Sammy again. "Come here. Come closer."

He didn't move. "Miss Hancock says we mustn't let Outsiders touch us."

At that the woman tutted with exasperation. "Do you see?" she appealed to her companions, "They are utterly under the sway of that Hancock woman and being told to avoid contact with decent people. Outsiders' if you please. The gall of the witch. She's been here no longer than a blink and already it's we who are the Outsiders." She shook her head in despair. "If only Albert Fairyfield had done as he first intended and bequeathed the Grange to the National Trust, we'd be spared all this vileness and distress."

Disgruntled and unable to progress with their disapproval the three women climbed back into their car and chugged away out of sight. No sooner had they gone than another figure rose up from the bushes on the far side of the narrow road.

"This is like the town high street today." murmured Sammy.

The figure was that of a young woman, probably not yet out of her teens. She had long raven hair and wore a T-shirt and a short black skirt that offered a good show of attractive bare legs. "Ha, you two look like a pair of goofy monkeys in a zoo behind those bars." she sniggered as she approached them.

Jemima and Sammy watched her warily, unused to girls of their own age they were unsure of how to greet her. Jemima's face darkened and his bottom lip pushed out, but he said nothing, while Sammy folded his arms across his chest. "Well, we're not monkeys and we're not goofy, so there."

The girl paused in front of them and peered through the railings at them. "I was only joking. My name's Pauline, who are you?"

Sammy shifted his weight, thrusting one hip forward. Wrapping an arm across his waist and resting the opposite elbow on it, he regarded her with veiled eyes. "I'm Samantha, and this is Jemima."

"Girl's names. And girl's clothes too." Pauline considered things for a moment. "I was on my way to catch the bus at the cross-roads when those women came along. They're a ghastly bunch so I hid in the bushes. I heard what they said about all the girls at Fairyfield being really boys who wear skirts. Is that true?"

Sammy at once became defensive. "It's nothing to do with you. We don't talk to Outsiders."

"You're talking to me." the girl replied cutely.

"Yes - well, I don't think you count so much. But we're not allowed to tell you anything about the school."

"No one ever gets to talk to any of you in the village when you go there because your always being watched by one of those snappy women that come with you." Her eyes scanned up and down their bodies, studying their short skirts and slender legs. "You don't have to tell me anything. Just show me your pants, I can tell what you are by just looking at your underwear. And I'm good at keeping secrets. Honest."

Sammy puffed indignantly. "We aren't a side show at a funfair y'know."

Jemima tugged at his sleeve. "Come on, let's go before she gets us into trouble."

The girl hurriedly pushed herself up against the fence. "Wait, don't go yet. I don't mind showing myself to you. I've got nice tits, do you want to see them?" Without waiting for an answer she skimmed up her T-shirt and revealed two small round and beautifully pointed breasts, each surmounted by a somewhat puffy pink nipple.

The two sissy boys jolted to a stop and watched as she offered them between the iron railings. Having been deprived of female companionship for most of their lives they were appalled by her shameless candour, but despite being reduced to sissified ways their brains retained enough testosterone to get their cocks responding.

Pauline glanced left and right to make sure no one else was about. "Have you ever kissed a girls tits before?" she asked.

Astounded, Sammy shook his head while Jemima remained silent, not thinking it proper to mention how his mother sometimes asked him to suck her nipples whilst she fingered herself, or sometimes asked him to do it while she was being fucked by her boyfriends.

"This is your chance." invited Pauline, "Come and have a guzzle on mine."

Suddenly hot with excitement the two pantywaists stepped forward and plunged against her soft, milky-white bosom, each to draw a delectable tender teat into his mouths and then crouch side by side as they suckled like babies demanding sustenance.

Oddly they both hung back from touching her with their hands. Pauline wouldn't have objected to them reaching up her skirt and fingering her pussy, but the idea didn't seem to cross their minds. She didn't encourage them, she was happy just to allow them to suck for a while before she drew away.

"You both enjoyed that, didn't you? But now it's my turn to see what you've got."

Sammy prevaricated again but Jemima had become enthralled by the naughty game and in one quick movement he raised the front of his gymslip to reveal his lack of an under garment.

The girls eyes glimmered. His prick was thrusting out stiff and was a pretty sight, long and slim with a delightfully pale foreskin that opened slightly at the tip to show a hint of pink meat. His balls were nice too. Plump and full, giving him a delicious air of cuteness.

Determined not to be perceived as a prissy miss, Sammy used both his hands to raise his own skirt. "Mine's bigger than Jemima's" he declared rather proudly. It certainly was, and it was equally as stiff. Uncircumcised, the soft skin was drawn back to exhibit a purplish knob with a slit already gaping open. His testicles were also larger than his friends and had a commendable hang to them.

Pauline smile triumphantly. "So Mrs Boroclough was right, you really are male. Have you always had girls names?"

"Course not," chaffed Sammy, "But we have to do as we're told here and boys names aren't allowed."

"I suppose that's only right. If you dress like schoolgirl's you should have schoolgirl names. The girl studied them for a moment and her smile broadened. "You're both very naughty, but your pricks look very nice when they're stiff. They look like they have a bone in them. Do you play with them a lot? Do you enjoy wanking?"

The sissies looked at each other and their faces became pink, which only seemed to encourage Pauline to be more outrageous. "You're shy, but I think you play with yourselves all the time, and I can tell you both need a good wank right now. Would you like me to toss you off? If you shove your pricks through the railings I'll do it for each of you, both at the same time."

Jemima glanced at Sammy for some guidance. "We're not allowed to let her wank us, are we?"

Sammy shrugged. "If we don't tell anyone, no one will know."

Temptation had its way. Gingerly they each pushed forward and slotted their extended maleness between the iron uprights. Almost as cute as their erections was the adorable expressions on their faces as the girl took a cock in each hand, grasped them and went to work. If they were naïve of girls she was by no means ignorant of boys, nor of how to handle them.

Side by side they stood groaning, gasping helplessly , their mouths hung open, their eyes rounding in fascination as they watched her nimble fingers run slowly along their taut, straining stems, then suddenly tighten and begin to rub back and forth with slow squeezing strokes.

"That's nice," Pauline said, feeling delight at feeling the swing of their balls between their legs. The movements of her hand quickened, slicking the foreskins back to enable the reddish tips to pop into view. "Does it feel sexy for you, Jemima?" She glanced at Sammy. "Which of you is going to cum first?"

Neither Jemima or Sammy had control of anything by then, but as pleasure pulsed along the length of their cocks the girl's question abruptly received an answer. Jemima winced as if in pain and his penis suddenly jerked and twitched between her fingers then went off like an oil derrick blowing a gusher. He hung tight to the railings, panting and moaning like he was away in some other creation.

"There we are. There's a good sexy girl-thing." Pauline grinned as if praising an infant.

"Do me now. Finish me off." urged Sammy frantically.

The girl turned to give him her complete attention, anticipating from the hang of his ball sack that he had a great deal of girly-goo to offer. Gripping his penis between thumb and forefinger she tugged the slack sheath and wrinkled it rapidly back and forth over his gland.

Sammy clenched his teeth, his breath hissing softly as he fought to contain the pleasure she was providing. He wasn't having an orgasm yet, but the tip of his cock had started leaking sticky fluid, so the girl knew he wasn't far off.

"Bet you're a good spunker, aren't you Sammy?" she said, then she became inspired by a sudden sexy idea. "Let me watch Jemima milk you with his mouth." She glanced at the other girly. "You've sucked cock before , haven't you?"

Stupefied by events Jemima nodded dumbly, and just as speechless Sammy allowed himself to be manoeuvred into position. "Go down in front of him." Pauline told Jemima, glowing with the power of her persuasion when he obeyed without making a protest.

Sammy's mind was spinning with illicit pleasure, and the girl found it a simple matter to guide his penis between Jemima's obliging lips. Immediately his mouth engulfed the thrusting length and he began to nod his head back and forth.

Excited beyond measure by the wickedness she'd instigated the girl crouched down to reach between the railings, and holding the back of Jemima's head in one hand while palming Sammy's bare bottom with the other she played them both in and out like a concertina.

Sammy's judgement had disintegrated and his knees felt weak as he slid his sensitive stiff flesh rapidly back and forth in a joust with the warm slimness of Jemima's lips. Inevitably there came a soft gasp of delight, his hips bucked and a low, guttural moan hissed out between his clenched teeth. His body convulsed and his pelvis pushed his suddenly spasming cock hard forward, and Pauline knew he was pumping wads of hot, sticky ball juice onto his companions tongue.

Thrilled to see Jemima wasn't pulling away, she squeaked gleefully. "Wow, he swallows. Such a lovely girly-girl, and so good at it."

***

On Monday morning Miriam Hancock stood in the back doorway of the west-wing in her dressing gown, a cup of tea in her hand, watching the early sun burn away the mist which pearled the moorland. It had the promise of another beautiful day and it seemed as if nothing could spoil it, and since her school was now established she felt no need any longer to dash about greeting every new boarder in person.

The past year spent at Fairyfield had been idyllic for her, and sometimes walking upstairs with her fingers trailing along the silkwood banisters she'd become aware of an inexplicable affinity with the house, it was as if she knew it more intimately than her time there could allow. Sometimes the shadows on the walls leapt out at her like the ghosts of unbidden memories.