A Sissy Saga Ch. 19

"I'm not going to do anything. It's you who must do the doing. Mummy won't tolerate you developing an erection in front of her guest while she's conducting business, so you must discharge all risk of it. That means I have to ensure you have a good wank."

Abigail had long become used to Jennifer viewing him without clothes, but he wondered just how many other boys had a vicious sister who demanded they appeared naked before them, and how many of them would consent to masturbating while they were being watched. Reluctantly he sat down on the bed once more, wrapped his hand around his thick shaft and stroked it until it started to swell and rise up.

"The skin is smooth and loose," his sister observed as he began to slide his prepuce back and forth. "I think everything is getting even bigger now."

He kept stroking, and Jennifer observed for a while with a vague smile, outwardly showing no hint of the delicious feelings that tingled in every part of her body. She loved watching boys wank; it was so excruciatingly humbling for them to put on that kind of show, and her delight was doubled if she had to make them do it. More than doubled if they were shy and unwilling

"It's harder now," she gushed. "It's enormous!"

"Is all this really necessary?" Abigail asked.

She nodded adamantly. "I think so, being in charge of all the other boy bitches in this place makes you obnoxious. You don't get spanked much these days, so you need to be reminded about humility from time to time." Her eyes suddenly shone with a devilish light. "I tell you what, let's make it more interesting. Do that thing that no one else seems able to do. Do you remember the little trick you used to do in Harrogate?"

"I don't know what you mean." Her emasculated brother knew exactly to what she was referring, but declined to admit it.

Jennifer scoffed and went over to him. "Yes you do." She gripped his hair and rocked his head side to side, and he groaned, shocked at how weak he could still feel when she had hold of him. "I can still make you cry. Surely I won't have to smack you before you give in and do it."

She lifted his balls with one hand and began to stroke the length of his boner vigorously with the other, grinning as it thickened in her hand. "Oh, yes! Quite a monster, and it doesn't seem to matter who does this for you, so I can only think your rather a pervert Abigail."

Pushing him onto the bed Jennifer climbed up beside him to ensure he wedged himself into the corner and braced himself against the wall. Opening his legs she drew his knees up to the level of his ears, which ensured his cock jutted up over his stomach. "Bend your head and lean down."

"I can't - I can't do it." Abigail whimpered, knowing all too well that her intention was to make him suck his own penis.

"Yes you can." she said sternly. "I've seen you do it in the past and nothing as changed. Your dexterity and the size of your girly prong are both amazing."

Placing a hand on the back of his head she pushed down and Abigail's spine curved as his back hunched and the tip of his watering cockhead loomed inches below his face. His expression immediately scrunched into a grimace. "Jennifer, I..."

She pushed again and his face dipped lower, and this time his lips grazed the tip of his moist knob end. Inexplicably he then surrendered. He opened his mouth and lowered his lips onto his cock while his sister continued to fondle his balls and helped to feed him his own meat.

Inexplicably he began to comply with her demands. He softened his pink lips and gently kissed the fat knob on the end, leaving behind pretty lipstick smudges. The skin was so soft and velvety. He didn't wait for jennifer's next instruction before his lips parted and he began to caress it with his tongue.

"That's right. Make love to it and refresh your memory. Feel it get bigger in your mouth," his sister whispered excitedly. Then she put her hand on the back of his head and pushed down, forcing his hugely swollen cock deeper into his mouth and onto his tongue.

Abigail's eased back and lips opened around the swollen cock-head and his tongue swirled around it before he took a grip with his lips. Precum began oozing, but that was only a pallid introduction to what he knew was to follow.

In such an unnatural contortion he couldn't manage the whole thing, not the entire length, but his mouth could take in the fat mushroom-shaped tip and the top most sensitive inch of the shaft. He began to pump with his face, his mouth making wet, hollow noises as it moved, while his hand moved freely up and down the rest of his turgid member.

As his initial coyness evaporated he angled his penis up towards his face and pulled it towards his lips. Slicking his wet, pink tongue over the tip he took a moment to explore the large, satiny crown which had begun to leak precum from the slit at its apex, then his tongue began gliding up and down the long, smooth shaft, making it wet, making it expand, taking time, teasing and pleasing, until at last his lips settled around the tip and he enveloped the fat plum with his mouth.

Having taken in the bulbous tip, he clamped his lips beneath its lower rim and blithely began to pleasure himself by moving them up and down. Never gripping, never biting, coating everything with saliva, drawing it in, pushing down on it, once, twice, again and again.

Jennifer praised him. "I'm proud of you Abigail, dear. You're unique. No other girl I know as a brother who can suck himself off."

Ugh! Jennifer was vile to do such things, Abigail's scrambled mind mused, but he was silly too. How could he? How could he allow himself to be bullied into sucking himself off - wanking into his own mouth - in front of a girl - in front of his own sister?

He began to gag, and Jennifer let him pull up to breathe. Then she pushed down again and introduced a bouncing rhythm that made him take more and more. Once the fat head of the cock passed into his mouth it was easy for more to follow, and when there was no more resistance from him Jennifer let him find his own tempo. "There! Now I've got you started I'll let you do it for yourself. But remember the rules. We've always had an agreement about this sort of thing."

He continued bobbing his head up and down, each time up sliding the head out past his lips. His naughty hand was urging his juices to flow and as thrills began to shimmer up and down his length he clamped his lips tighter and moved his mouth up and down. He couldn't help it. She was making him do it. Jennifer was always making him do disgusting things.

Other males would have struggled and failed to effect a manoeuvre they could only be do by extraordinary contortion, but Abigail didn't rely on contortion, he was exceptionally lithe of body, and his cock was exceptionally long. With one hand tucked beneath his ball-sac he was able to gently caress the tender globes inside, while with his other hand he gripped his serpentine length and guided its spongy, bulbous end upwards to meet a face that was dipping down.

He moaned as his cock throbbed involuntarily, then its tip started to drool more copiously in his mouth and his whole body started to tremble. His breathing became ragged as the leaking flesh began to shake. Then he realised he couldn't let go - didn't want to let go. His mouth clamped tighter, his lips moved faster beneath the base of his broad arrowhead, and his hand wouldn't stop pumping. The movements of his mouth quickly became increasingly eager, and lower down one of his hands was caressing his testicles as if urging his plump ball-bags to give up their treasure.

Then in an instant his tinted eyelids fluttered and his expression melted into one of infinite rapture as if in response to some kind of unseen impact.

"Mmoh!" His belly undulated in a dolphin-like ripple and a meaningless little noise squeezed out from his throat as he balked slightly, but even though he was clearly ejaculating his lips remained latched in place. Mouth and hands then worked in unison, rapidly pumping the shaft, teasing juice along his glands as he wanked into his own mouth and consumed his own copious discharge with the enthusiasm of a baby at its bottle.

Jennifer needed to monitor her breathing when seeing such a job so well done. She must have been watching closely, because just when his dick rippling in his mouth she held his head and kept it firmly in place.

"There, you see, you like it don't you? My girly-brained brother is enjoying himself."

Abigail closed his eyes as his cock lurched and vast globs of cream ejected into his mouth. Then more. And more. Warm, slimy cum-jets of male seed squirting in uncontrollable spasms. He'd tasted plenty of cum before from other cocks, but this was his cum pumping out from his own twitching cock.

Ugh! Eeeaaah, glup!

His sister was unable to resist stroking under his balls again, and she beamed with approval when she noticed his throat undulating. "You're swallowing. You do remember the rules after all. That's lovely, but it's enough of that for now." she told him, "Any more of it and you won't want to eat your dinner."

***

Later, when Abigail entered his mother's study he found her standing by the fireplace with a cup of tea in her hand, her manner was of that of a lady of the manor receiving a guest.

The guest on this occasion was a stranger. He was a lean, too thin, bald-headed elderly man wearing a good quality, well tailored suit. There were deep creases in his narrow face of the kind that constant deep thought creates, and webs of fine lines around his eyes that stood out like cross-stitching. But it was his mouth that drew most attention, it carried the cynical smile of a debt collector.

"Now," said Miriam, waving her son to the centre of the room. "If you'll allow me, I'll introduce you to my best recommendation. Abigail is without doubt a young man who excels in grace and beauty. A first-class product of Fairyfield Grange and a credit to all who've had a hand in training him."

A new day had brought on a new mood, and the difficulties Miriam had previously faced no longer seemed so daunting. Sick of being downcast, it was on with the job. The cost of opposing the National Trust's claim to Fairyfield Grange had put her in some financial difficulty but Mrs Boroclough had shown the way, and she had got nothing to lose. If mere money was all that was required to put things right she'd raise enough to buy the whole wretched Courts-of-Law, and finding early placements for some of her students was a good way of raising cash. After all, they were created to be expendable and they were there to be exploited.

At a signal from his mother Abigail divested himself of his robe and stepped forward to reveal the full extent of his sister's artistry. Be fore he had left her room she had approached him from behind and, with a practised manoeuvre drew a satin garment around his middle and began to lace it up in a criss-cross fashion behind his back.

He had gasped as she pulled things tight and tied them in place, and only then did he fully realise she had put him in a corset, an aubergine coloured strapless bodice, brief enough to leave his chest on show for a bra; with satin ruffles around the bottom rim, and brief enough to expose everything below his hips. Four garter straps dangled down from the bottom edge to skim his hairless, creamy thighs and buttocks.

"It will pronounce your girlish shape and give you a better waist." Jennifer had told him.

She had referred to him as a girl, so he now playacted the part as he stood before the old man, hands on hips, head tilted up, blushing slightly, confident that the man would at once note his boyish anatomy and show approval. After all, he had a perfect body, he was young and radiant, and he wore no pants so his sinuous thick cock hung over a fine dangle of balls. Aware that a sissy on sale should display himself from every angle he posed briefly, one knee jutting slightly forward, first facing him, then turning about to offer a back view.

Already thrilling in a typical sissy way by the stretch of the garter-straps over his tender bottom-cheeks, Abigail squirmed and sucked in a sharp breath when Jennifer had fastened a bra to his chest once more. He was a girl with a cock and little in the way of tits, and she'd said he'd need something to lend him more shape. Something that would give him a shape between Poppy's gorgeously squashy buns and Bambi's pimples. The snug fitting cups would give each of his breasts a sense of separate existence, she'd told him, and the soft cotton-wool padding would gently coddle his swollen nipples.

He was excited. Not simply because he was exposed, and not just because he had an audience. There was something else. The delicious sensation of nylons on his legs, the tug of suspender straps over his thighs, the firm hug of the little bra that harnessed his bosom.

His mother fold her arms across her chest. "Walk around a bit," she told him. "Let the gentleman see you strut." Her voice was suddenly deep and booming. A stentorian shock coming from such a slender frame.

He made a promenade, teetering on preposterous high-heels, thrilling to the sensation of tight female garments. Burning with shame, nervous but radiant he sashayed around the room, eyes wide in the manner of a startled colt, a girlish young man in a waspwaisted girdle that accentuated his hips and bottom, while a snug little bra cosseted his titties in the most delightful way.

"A lovely physique, you will agree," his mother continued, stopping him again, "Small and exquisitely formed, a nice waist, something of a swell to the hips, beautifully proportions legs and very pretty feet and ankles. 'The innocent and beautiful have no enemies but time' I read somewhere once, but you'll find Abigail's looks long lasting. The matron I have is a perfect whiz and is experimenting with treatments to retard the growth of coarse body hair and repress the development of the larynx."

She made no reference to his genitals. That would have been too crude and anyway they were obvious enough.

To Abigail's slight annoyance the visitor didn't say anything for a while, he seemed to be smiling at something invisible and far away. When he did speak it was in the crisp well-educated voice of a barrister.

"By virtue of the profession from which I'm lately retired I've viewed many such, er - lads in the past, Miss Hancock. Some of the young rapscallions I met during my service to the Courts of Law were beautiful rough diamonds - dressed in faded jeans and loud T-shirts and wearing rings in their ears. All many of them needed was affection, and of course proper discipline. Unfortunately they constantly mutinied against all efforts to help them."

The man scrutinised Abigail again. "This young person is indeed a fine looker and a rare commodity indeed, but I need someone who'll never tire of being both a servant and an intimate companion, and who won't rebel when awarded a few well deserved smacks now and again. That someone also needs to be provided at the right price."

Miriam responded sharply. No matter that the goods on her stall were her kith and kin, she was obsessive when it came to success in her enterprises.

"Abigail will be no ordinary member of staff to you. While being competent in all household duties he as the skills worthy of a geisha and a bottom well disposed to being spanked. As for expense, although the initial outlay may be high, this she-boy-servant will never expect wages or holidays. And in the unlikely event you eventually tire of him I estimate he can be sold-on with little financial loss."

The man nodded and seemed to be in full agreement. "One last thing. During my time with the judiciary I had cause to deal with many young men who indulge in body piercing. You'll know what I mean. It's a strange desire people have these days to dangle jewellery from their ears and nipples, and sometime from their cock. Personally I found it had the effect quite enticing."

Miriam nodded. "That won't be a problem. I can arrange for matron to do whatever is required, it will just mean Abigail won't be ready for you until the school recess."

Abigail was dismissed from the room at that point, for although he fancied a bargain was being struck it seemed his presence wasn't considered necessary any longer. The whole business had the air of a slave-market, which was a fair analogy, since once a placement fee had been paid the client would virtually own him.

His own future now seemed set. He'd never obtained qualifications that would lead to a profession, so perhaps it was his destiny to serve as a pet for a decrepit old man.

Perhaps it wouldn't be too bad. The man seemed okay, almost paternal; slightly avuncular and not a bit like his idea of a lecherous sugar-daddy. He was old and as hairless as a Chihuahua, but neither of those things mattered. At least there was no sign of dotage or senility. And at least it would get him away from Jennifer, the sister who'd always been the bane of his existence.

He'd led an ideal life since his mother had appointed him as head-girl. The post had given him the benefit of never being a subject for physical punishment while allowing him to deal plenty out. Such an exalted position also meant he was not obliged to give sexual favours to anyone, while it enabled him to chose any of the other effeminate bimbo's as a bed-companion.

Being astute and able to recognise a good thing he'd tried them all. Yes, he'd enjoyed a good time, but philosophically he realised that all good times come to an end. His only regret was that in his haste to taste and try everything ten times over he'd sacrificed stalwarts such as Wendy, who was probably the truest friend he'd ever had.

***

Soon after dealing with her brother Jennifer stood naked before a full length mirror and studied her reflection, admiring the strong lines of her face and the tilt of her chin. She looked, dare she think it, quite stunning. Outwardly the image she viewed was that of a typical teenage girl, slender and well hipped, and although small chested she had the indefinable glow of beauty that only youthfulness can emit. Like a goddess, she was a beautiful symbol of feminine authority.

She tumbled her hair and brushed back a stray tress, then stretched out and leisurely eyed her limber body. She also had great legs which carried her swiftly with enviable grace, and she was generally quick in everything she did, full of energy, brimming with vitality and effervescence.

When she went into the village all the old grannies would tell her it was about time she found a steady boyfriend. But why should she? She had no tolerance for the weak or ineffectual, especially if they were males. Boys would only want her for sex, and in her own way she'd already experienced more sex than a libertine twice her age, and done it all without them.

Apart from screwing around with Monica Braithwaite and Polly Clagget, North Yorkshire was a bit of a letdown so far, but she could always get her jollies from dominating her mother's sissies. Being cruel to pretty girly-things always made her drippy and often made her jerk off in her pants without even touching herself.

She rubbed her hands over her body, feeling the bare flesh and firm, sexy muscles, and absent mindedly she licked her fingers and played with her pert nipples, squeezing and twisting them. Still only eighteen, but an Amazon experienced beyond her years, her indomitable will being sustained by fitness and physical strength that displayed its potential as she flexed and posed. Early every morning she worked-out in the gym and she had the strength of any youth her own age.

She didn't need a boyfriend. She was as proficient with a cock as any of them. When she pondered about such things she rather liked the idea of having a cock. Maybe Freud was right. Maybe women wanted a penis. Well, maybe not a penis, but certainly a decent cock. Sometimes she posed before the mirror with a strap-on fastened to her pubis - sometimes a solid rammer that stuck out like a ships yardarm, and sometimes a huge, thick dangly thing that swung down between her legs. Sexiest of all were those with a good pair of balls.