A Sissy Saga Ch. 14

With a contented smile Miriam calmly pressed them into a closer embrace when she noticed the shunting movements of Alec's body. He was passionately working out every drop of seminal fluid from his loins, and doing it by slithering his prick up and down in the generous smear of spendings already lathered upon Theo's body.

Knowing she had become superfluous at that point she exited from the shed. The father and son would have some cleaning up to do now, but that kind of business was not her concern. Instead she strolled towards the house. It would be unthinkable to leave without at least saying hello to her old friend Annabelle.

She walked into the kitchen. It was decorated in blues and creams and had the very latest and most expensive appliances. Annabelle was standing at a work top making sandwiches, and Miriam was impressed at how great she looked, just a short skirt and sleeveless blouse.

Simply attired but she had multiple rings on her fingers and had a distracting amount of cleavage on display, and the gold and ruby pendant that nestled between her breasts carried a stone the size of a gobstopper. What really caught her attention was her tan. Annabelle had always taken a tan well, and her complexion she likened to what she'd felt on a visit to the Jeu de Paume at the Louvre when she'd first noticed the way Monat used oil paints.

Annabelle turned. "Miriam! What a nice surprise. How are you?"

The visitor pulled a face in pretence of lacklustre. "Depressed. Life is a void of meaningless pain. How are you, darling?"

"I nearly killed a dozen people at a bus stop on the way home."

"You were always a rotten driver?"

"I couldn't do without a car? I came out of the womb in a four-wheel drive."

"Why is your life so much more interesting than mine?"

"I'm just lucky I guess."

Miriam smiled warmly at the humour and the enthusiasm in her voice. Annabelle had always loved her to visit in the past, and she hadn't forgotten. They hugged. "Gosh Annabelle, you look great, lovely."

The other woman's eyes sparkled and she laughed - "and no tan lines "- in a naughty manner." What a super surprise to see you again. It's been ages - over a year, easily. You look lovely too, Miriam, and Alec tell me that you're managing a school now."

"It's my own school. A private venture, little to do with academic education."

"I should have known. Everyone said you did such a wonderful job in Harrogate helping young people, so you were bound to work with them again. I hope you're making good use of Alec. Apart from his work on the County Council he as all kinds of contacts in business and trade; it would be lunacy not to take advantage of him. Now me, I'm a bit lightweight. Some pottering about and plenty of sunbathing is as much as I can manage."

Miriam closed the door and took a longer look at the other woman. She was the same height as herself, and she was slender, with a lovely bum and beautiful flaring hips. 'A bottom to kill for,' she thought. "Alec has been very forthcoming." she said.

The other woman smiled. "Yes of course. You're so very clever. You'll already know how to handle Alec."

Miriam watched from behind as Annabelle turned towards the kettle. "Don't bother with tea. I've something better in mind." she said. She touched the woman's back, traced up over her shoulder-blade and then down her upper arm, making her body flex, and as Miriam leaned forward and kissed the handsome curve of her cheek her fingers pressed coaxingly against her spine.

Annabelle squirmed, then turned and flattened her back against the kitchen wall, a faint smile teasing the corners of her mouth. "Still the same seducer I knew a year ago, aren't you Miriam. Nothing ever changes with you."

Miriam smiled wryly. "I'm not stuck in the past darling. I've several new ideas I'd like to try, and they make me think of you."

The woman flushed and her hand shakily touched the corner of her eye. Then her mouth was on Miriam's neck, breathing soft, then hard, making her push against her. "Alec and Theo are in the garden, we can't possibly do anything now."

"They've some tidying-up to do outside. They'll be a while yet, so we've got time for something."

Coolly the schoolmistress kissed her lightly on the neck and cheek and pulled her close so that their breasts met and nudged together. The front of the other woman's blouse was soft and yielding. No bra, just plump breasts beneath, breasts that made no move to avoid the caress of her hands as they covered their juddering contours and pulled and squeezed. Despite being a wife and mother, in the right hands - hands like her own - Annabelle was a perfect piece of lesbian fluff when a chance came her way.

She slipped the strap of Annabelle's dress from her shoulders and kissed the pale line left on the tanned skin as her hands stroked up and down her sides. Gently she tugged down the top of the dress and kissed her again,this time full on the mouth, and Annabelle responded eagerly, almost hungrily, accepting her tongue without demur.

Then Miriam drew back. She had no reason to restrain herself, but taking her time was her way of doing things. Her lips drifted down Annabelle's neck, to her breasts, where they began to feast on hot flesh and a pair of upright nipples. She used her hands to reach under the hemline of the woman's skirt, and Annabelle's body twisted against the wall as she felt fingers slipping into the leg of her briefs to search out the lush, wet lips of her vagina. She was a woman who liked to be taken forcibly and used and abused until her head spun. As Miriam put her hand between her thighs she sighed and moved onto it, aching for her.

Her breathing tensed, fluttering in and out as two fingers entered her, moving strong and slow while the tip of a thumb nubbed playfully against her clitoris.

Miriam purred her approval. She kept one hand under the elastic of her pants, nestling in her soft, damp pubes while two fingers probing deep inside her. "You juice-up quickly. You don't change either. You must come and see me in my hotel room tonight, darling." She glanced around the kitchen. "You probably have one of those modern melamine rolling pins somewhere. Bring it with you and I'll show you how to make cream pie."

"Bitch! You know you're good at what you do, and you know I can't resist you." Annabelle gasped as her thighs pressed against the intruding fingers and her hips began to gyrate, increasing the tempo with each intimate thrust. "Hurry up and finish me off before Alec comes in. He's a bit of a prude about sex."

***

Miriam had fallen into the habit of leaving the school in the capable hands of Emma Twist when she wasn't there herself. It was a provision that infuriated her daughter who resented being thought of as still too immature for responsibility. In response Jennifer made a crafty distinction between the 'school' and the 'house' when talking with Gloria. Miss Twist was indeed in charge of the girls, she told her - who'd wish for that onerous task anyway - but in matters of a domestic nature she herself must always be informed of events first.

When that evening she wandered down into her mother's sitting room and was greeted by a flickering red light on the telephone console she almost sighed with delight. The flashing light indicated something was occurring at the front entrance that Gloria couldn't effectively deal with, and it gave her a chance to prove her worth.

"Visitor's Jennifer," the slightly flustered housekeeper explained the moment she arrived. "Their car's broken down along the road. They came tapping on the door, so I put 'em in the headmistress's study. They seem nice people, but I knows how yer mum feels about strangers being here, an' I don't know what else to do wi' 'em. Should I chuck 'em out?"

Finding herself truly in charge brought a swell of satisfaction to the teenager's bosom. She threw back her shoulders and smiled. "Let me have a look at them first."

The two women in the room both rose to their feet when she entered. One was young, no more than eighteen and a bright cheery thing with an English rose completion, the other twice her age with soft cheeks and a demur reserved expression. Both were slimly built and dressed neatly and in a way that betrayed their middle-class origin. Not the kind of people her mother would have immediately thrown out onto the road.

"I'm Jennifer Hancock," she said amiably, "I'm afraid my mother isn't at home at the moment, so you'll have to put up with me." She thrust out a hand and the strangers each shook it in turn.

Before the older woman could open her mouth the young girl got in quickly with a breathless gush. "It's awfully good of you to take us in like this. Gosh, we scratched at the door like a pair of stray cats and felt certain we'd end up with a bucket of water on us. But your houselady's been very kind. She's already given us tea."

Without waiting for a response she crashed on with introductions. "I'm Pat Fergus-Brown, and the lady with me is Mitzie. Mitzie's my mum's companion and she was taking me back to college in Oxford. I'm afraid something frightful happened with the car though. The engine simply stopped working."

"I's phoned the Automobile Services, Jennifer," put in Gloria, "but they say it'll be hours before they can get anyone here."

"Such a remote place. Desolate." The girl called Pat remarked with just a hint of a sour face.

"Yes, we are rather distant from what you'd term civilisation I'm afraid," Jennifer replied, "and I doubt you'll have any help from a mechanic before morning." She glanced at her wristwatch. "It's getting late and it'll be dark soon. It's probably best if you stay the night, that'll be easier than ferrying you into Peasmarsh ."

Mitzie at last stepped forward. "Could you put us up? We'd be awfully grateful. Even if the car were fixed tonight I'd dread driving over the fells in the dark, and Patricia doesn't really need to return before tomorrow."

"We're pretty full; you've come upon a residential school you see. But my mother maintains a small guest room, so if you don't mind the hardship of sharing you can camp out there until morning."

"Cats can't be choosy when they go adrift. We'd be glad of anything you have." Pat said.

Feeling competent and rather pleased in her role as mistress of Fairyfield, Jennifer turned to Gloria. "Rouse Hardwick and get him to find the car and tow it into the drive, then make up the bed in the spare room next to mine. It's no Shangri-La and it's not too spacious, but it'll serve the purpose for one night."

She remained with her guests whilst her instructions were put into motion, and quickly discovered that although Mitzie led with polite chatter she was constantly interrupted by the girl, and it was her lively banter that consumed much of the time. Patricia - Pat, explained that her family were the Fergus-Brown's of biscuit fame, and although their factory in Newcastle was now owned by the Nabisco Group, the brand name had been retained and her mother had done rather well from the deal.

"Well enough to put me through Oxford, anyway." she said, "I intend to be an archaeologist, you see." She smirked rather gleefully, then added, "Or a stripper. I suppose I'll need to make up my mind at some stage."

After Gloria had provided a plate of sandwiches and more tea, Hardwick arrived bearing some of the visitor's luggage, and then Jennifer felt comfortable about showing them to their room.

***

Lulabelle stood outside Miss Twist's room bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet. He had to do something; anything to blot out thoughts of what he knew would happen soon. Eventually he heard footsteps and his body tensed.

It came as a mild surprise to Miss Twist when she found him was standing there, crisply starched blouse, little pleated skirt and white socks neatly turned down, and looking every bit the sweet schoolgirl. She stood, hands on hips, not letting the surprise show, a tall, imposing figure smiling slightly, her lips a prim red line that turned up at the corners. "And why are you here, Lulabelle?"

He bowed his head and gripping his skirt dipped a slow curtsy. He hated the way all the ladies used his given name in full. He'd prefer to be known as Lulu. Lulabelle was so extra girly. "To be punished, miss." he replied.

She glared. "And why are you to be punished?"

"I'm not sure. You told me to report." he replied, looking suitably ashamed.

It was all a bit unsatisfactory because she couldn't remember what his sin was herself. She couldn't even remember telling him to be there. Then again, she did tend to invent reasons for punishment during the day if a sissy struck her as particularly cute. Lulabelle was looking rather sweet and special at that moment, and cute ones were always the first to tread the path to her hurdle. With her such things as valid reasons never got in the way of correction.

She reached beyond him and opened the door to her apartment. "At least you've attended at the correct time."

"Yes miss." Lulabelle stepped carefully into the room, almost as if he believed that by being very quite he'd escape the purpose for being there, but Miss Twist reminded him all too quickly that such a thing wouldn't happen. Emma followed behind and closed the door, then gripping his right wrist she dragged him without ceremony towards her hallowed Mexican hurdle. Lulabelle found himself draped over it like a rag-doll, limp and pliable.

The woman took the hem of the little skirt and folded it up his back to reveal simple cotton panties and bare thighs. The pants didn't stay in place long. Within seconds the teacher had peeled them down at the back to expose his bottom while at the front the cotton fabric pulled against his penis, making it swell and throb a little. He felt her hand squeeze his bared posterior and it made him gasp and wriggle. It was humiliating to dangle like that while preparing to be spanked on the bare bottom like a kid.

Without warning the telephone by the side of the mauve sofa began to signal an incoming call, and with a tut of irritation Miss Twist went to answer it.

As she raised the receiver a smile lit her face. "Miriam - I didn't expect you to call this evening." She took a seat on the sofa, glanced across at Lulabelle, and beckoned him. "Lulabelle, I want you here please." she said in a clipped tone over the top of the telephone whilst indicating her lap where she'd pulled her short skirt high on her thighs to display her stocking tops and creamy thighs.

It was awkward for him to move, his knickers had slipped down and he had to hobble forward with them wrapped around his knees, while his cock was semi-hard and bounced around in front of him as he tottered forward. He managed the short journey as best he could and then stood waiting, very conscious that his pecker was rising up.

Miss Twist smiled up at him, and whilst making attentive noises into the telephone took him by the wrist and drew him face down across her lap, taking time to get him into her favoured position with his feet off the floor and his head low down the other side, then holding him firmly about the waist and pulling him forward until his pelvis rested atop her right leg to ensure his blossoming erection was pressing upon her nylon clad thighs. The sissy was immobilised and his bottom raised and ready, perfectly secure and under her control. Comfortable too, his only initial discomfort coming from his loss of dignity.

There was no cushion, nowhere to rest his head, but Lulabelle didn't complain. Obediently he offered himself in a full state of submissiveness, folding up the back of his skirt and dipping his tummy to make his pristine twin mounds jiggle and pout a little. That was the kind of co-operation a teacher expected, and the kind Miss Twist liked when a girly was suspended across her knee.

"You found that old bandit Grimshaw... " Emma said into the phone," ...I knew you would. It takes more than him moving house to throw you off track." She adjusted Lulabelle on her lap and felt him tremble as she latched an arm about his waist, then without offering any pretext she tucked the phone under her chin and ran her other hand up and down his bare legs, feeling and caressing them softly, smoothing an hand over a bare girly rump and patting it, making him feel the 'can't escape' excitement sissy's always felt when pressed firmly over a lady's lap. With a little additional thigh wiggling she soon had his penis clasped between her legs and he was in place to receive spanks on the eminently spankable up-curve of his bottom and the top of his thighs.

Emma continued with her conversation. "You've date with a girl tonight? Well, make the most of it, darling. You're deserving of some recreation."

Apprehensively Lulabelle waited for the first slap to come, and he didn't have to wait long. Her hand gripped his bottom squeezed it, then relented. His bum was bare, exposed, vulnerable. Then the hand returned, this time moving at higher velocity, and he felt the first stinging slaps.

SMACK, SMACK! The school teacher began lightly, just sever enough to make him wiggle a little, but the result was exactly as she knew it would be. An immediate pink smarting rose up in seconds. In a slow, even rhythm she struck the backs of his knees, smacking up and down his bare legs and making his feet jerk as if they'd been touched by electricity, then up the inside of his sensitive thighs and onto the crease where his legs met with his buttocks. 'Ouch!' And then her hand cracked onto each bottom cheek alternately. A smack, a brief rubbing better, then another smack, not hard, but constant.

SWASH, WHAPP, WHAPPP! The sissy schoolgirl gasped, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment in response to the sting.

"Everything's fine Miriam." continued Emma, "You allow yourself so little time off, try and relax whilst you're away." She chuckled into the receiver. "What's that? Am I spanking someone whilst we're talking? Well, yes actually. I'm having a word or two with Lulabelle. Her bottom is quite red, but it as to be done. The shameless little madam was playing with herself under the table while in class today."

A look of acute indignation formed on Lulabelle's face. "That's not true, miss. I wasn't... "

SMACK, SMACK! "Aaah!" A strangled cry as the spanking took on renewed urgency. He could feel the heat building up in his bum and he began to kick and squirm. The schoolteacher's smacks had settled into a rhythm, delivering a smack every few seconds, and although Lulabelle tried to remain still he had to wriggle anyway because Miss Twist was spreading the blows around so much, and if anything was putting a bit more force behind each one. That tended to make his bottom burn quite fiercely and make him more vocal, and his legs began to scissor up and down. The most horrible thing was that every time he moved his penis slued up and down between the lady tutor's nyloned thighs.

SMACK! "Ouch - miss, please." SMACK! "Ow - I'm sorrrryyy. I'll never do it again" (Whatever he was supposed to have done). With some alarm he felt the woman's fingers pause to stroke up and down the crack of his bottom, and as his anus contracted he was horrified to feel his cock swelling in sympathy against her smooth, bare thighs. Miss Twist passed her hand across his rump, and then began smacking again.

SMACK! The spanks stop for a moment and Lulabelle breathes heavily; his bottom glowing already from hips to thighs. "No, no upsets with Jennifer. I've hardly seen her today." Emma continued calmly.

SMACK, squeeze, SMACK, squeeze. She spanked some more, her hand walloping the helpless bare cheeks and raising their rosy glow to an even more vibrant colour. The tempo increases and Lulabelle's buttocks gyrated superbly as the smacks became slightly keener. He had to concentrate hard on keeping his bum clenched. He'd been a sissy for a year and been over countless laps, but he still felt embarrassment if a lady looked at his bottom-hole.