A Sissy Saga Ch. 22

"And now, something for those darker moments." she said mysteriously. "Some will find no appeal in costuming a servant entirely in latex or rubber, but I know that many of you here think it extremely erotic."

Jennifer then led out her most favoured concoction, her 'rubber-doll', which was really Holly Brown dressed in a short dress, and cocktail gloves that went up beyond the elbows, all of which were made of shiny black rubber and clung to him like a second skin. The design of his outfit held him sheathed like a lily in its slim corsage and lost no point of emphasis in displaying his superbly moulded throat, poised white shoulders and the taut virginal curves of his young bosom.

The teenage 'nanny' hauled him along the catwalk by a dog-leash clipped to a studded slave-collar around his neck before swinging him round to face the enraptured throng.

The straps and buckles of a leather harness enclosed his head while Holly's beautiful eyes blinked in bewilderment over a mouth stretched around a fat, round ball-gag. Carmine lipstick coated his mouth, mascara had been deftly applied to his long, luxurious lashes and metallic blue eye shadow to the lids, but the only features of his face that could be clearly seen were his eyes, open wide as if he'd just been caught in the glare of a spotlight.

When Jennifer brought him to a halt it could be seen that his legs were encased in smooth rubber stockings notionally held in place by rubber suspender-straps, and he stood teetering on pointed-toed shoes with ridiculously high heels that shaped his legs and pushed out his bottom in lewd invitation.

"Of course great patience is required for this kind of costuming," remarked Miss Hancock casually, "It requires time and a great deal of talc to slide even a slender morsel such as Holly into such body gripping attire." Pausing, she simpered and smiled, "However, there's probably no finer kind of punishment suit to wrap a sissy in when discipline needs to be applied.."

"Is it really a boy? It's so hard to tell." muttered the sparrow-like Miss Moffet.

"Of course. The young man is a sissy-boy." insisted Mrs Glossop beside her. She unconsciously licked her lips. She herself was a Bridge-playing ambulant woman who's usual pastime was quarrelling with hotel managers, but at that moment she was being taxed in trying to control the indecent pounding of her pulse.

Jennifer moved close to Holly and unclipped a rubber bra strapped to his chest, and with the item removed two tiny white breasts were revealed, squeezing forward through a pair of holes fashioned into the bodice of his outfit.

While the girl's hands deftly plumped up the newly bared flesh her mother dragged a tall stool onto the carpet.

"Showtime would not be complete without a demonstration of Fairyfield correction." she declared.

Holly was pushed towards the stool and made to lean forward and place his cheek on the seat. He then gripped its legs, knees bending to facilitate offering out his bottom.

Jennifer was again attentive. The back of Holly's rubber skirt was rolled up to reveal the sheer beauty that lay beneath. His black stockings stopped high on his thighs where the back of his legs and the bare satin skin of young buttocks gleamed like ivory in contrast. Bending as he was, his body formed a perfect curve from the knees upward, and beneath the arch of his abdomen the outline of his penis stood out in pure perfection.

He had not been provided with panties; instead his penis, which was fully at attention, was shrouded for its entire length by a black rubber condom, while his testicles, which had been tethered at the top to make them bulge, were tucked into a separate, snug little sling.

"Such a pretty bottom. Perfect." commented Mrs Frobisher as she absently adjusted her bra, which had suddenly begun to feel very tight. She couldn't take her eyes off the girl-figure in rubber. Her face, her nipples. Those legs. Her cock.

Miss Moffet gaped. "Jennifer isn't going to strap her, surely."

As the daughter of the headmistress unclipped the leather tawse from her belt Holly resolved to accept his ordeal in the best way possible, which was sensible, because resistance was of no use.

SPATT! "Mmmuufff!" His high heels kicked slightly and then settled back.

SMACK! "Aaaaahhh!" The audience leaned forward each time the lash came down with a sharp slap on Holly's creamy little billows, and as the sissy emitted anguished squawks around the confines of his gag they all seemed to wince and draw breath in sympathy.

Mrs Frobisher's eyes sparkled as she squeezed her thighs together. "Oh dear - but he is a naughty girl, dressing up like that and showing his bum, so I suppose its all right to smack him as long as he doesn't get more than six."

BLATT! "Gggrrrrhh!"

WAP! "Uuugg!"

Jennifer gave him only four. She'd promised to give him no more than two, but had come to realise such a small number was far too derisory.

Miss Hancock then stepped forward and signified that Holly should be removed from the room.

"After that rather torrid display there will be a short interlude whilst we assemble the finale," she explained, " But don't wander off too far ladies. I can assure you it will be worth waiting for."

At the back of the room Amanda sat quivering on Mrs Tichborne's lap, his cheeks blazing with shame. The panties the woman had previously put on him had quickly been dragged down onto his knees once she'd extracted him away from the other women's pawing, and now, regarding him like a prize won in some raffle she was greedily doing all the pawing herself. Her fingers were holding his engorged penis and gently gliding up and down.

"Don't be embarrassed," she whispered, "Pantywaist freaks should enjoy a ladies attention. Keep your arms down at your sides or I'll get cross. Have you ever had your hands tied for misbehaviour?"

"Only when I'm put in the closet."

"A closet?" cooed Mrs Tichborne, "That would be a tiny, dark room where naughty girlies are taught to mend their ways. A lovely idea."

Pausing momentarily she drew her hand away to take up a small scented handkerchief, which she draped delicately around the tip of his erect girlhood.

"It's ages since I've done this with such a stiff young willy as yours - it's a year at least since a woman from Birmingham lodged at my house. I looked after her husband in the evenings when she went out, and I sat him on my knee after bathing him and putting him in his clean jimmy-jams."

Giving his solid young penis a slow jig with her hand she went on. "I used to give him a little rub just like this, because I know naughty boys can't resist rubbing their willie-winkie's in bed. They'd rub them for half the night if they had the chance and miss a lot of sleep, so I told him it was best if I did it for him."

"What's next?" murmured Mrs Frobisher.

"Bound to be something to do with sex." replied someone.

"Sex, especially with the wrong person is seriously overrated." Mrs Frobisher declared, "Most men promise a girl the moon, but end up just giving her stretch marks and a gin habit. Ages and ages of fumbling and pressing, groping and writhing; and all the time a woman as to look so bloody graceful, when a cup of tea and a decent book would be far more enjoyable."

She gave a long-suffering sigh. "I've tried getting rid of my old man several times, but I've not succeeded yet. Last week I polished the top of the stairs to the smoothness of a skating rink. He slipped and tumbled the whole way down, but blow me, he only broke a leg. The old goat's got a bloody charmed life."

Miss Hancock took the centre of the floor once more, and at her signal the door opened and in minced a procession of four sissy confections. Trudy, Zoë, Jemima and Lulabelle, hair neatly combed, lips masked with gloss and cheeks highlighted with rouge. All they're pale bodies were naked except for powder blue pyjama jackets that were unbuttoned and laid well back on their shoulders to be utilised as mere decoration.

The ladies sat entranced in their seats, fingers bearing cigarettes pausing in mid-air, their owners immobile.

Miss Hancock's panty-boys all had such slight, deliciously girlish bodies, alabaster skin, flawless hips and legs, pretty ankles and small erect nipples that like their cheeks had been boldly defined by rouge, but in contradiction to their effeminacy each of their pricks was at full erection, rising above the horizontal and swaying slightly as they walked.

Weaving a pattern of sensuous beauty they reached the centre of the catwalk, stopped and turned to face the audience of female notorati. Fresh, clean-looking bodies, sweet and pink all over. Perfectly glossed mouths, rouge on their nipples, and without panties their cocks were bare and throbbing and very excited.

There was a hush in the room, an air of expectancy that hammered in the ears as the women avidly surveyed the display, assessing the dimensions of each upward thrust and downward dangle. Sissy's they may have been. They were naughty, naughty boys who sometimes wore frocks and pretended to be girls, but they still had cocks that could probably do lovely big squirts.

Like animated dolls the pantywaists blushed beneath their rouge. All were very aware of the predatory eyes gazing at them. Their preferred world was one of men, and the gaggle of strange, watching women embarrassed them terribly. But they were Miss Hancock's coup de theatre, and for her showpiece of the afternoon her guests would be entertained by a clutch of pretty pantywaists masturbating themselves to orgasm.

The ladies goggled slack-mouthed whilst making a brief attempt to maintain some dignity, but several let out a yelp of glee that betrayed their enthusiasm and impatience.

Jennifer made a final pass along the front of the panty-boys, taking hold of each nipple in turn between her forefinger and thumb, twisting and plucking until the tender teats mimicked their lower anatomy and thrust up in optimal arousal.

"Make a beginning." Miriam then demanded.

At once the row of girlies made a start, some stretching a hand over their hairless thighs to raise their testicles, while others stroked up their bellies to caress their creamy male breasts, but within moments each of them had taken his penis in his hand and was tugging it.

The audience watched intently as slender fingers shunted soft, pliant foreskins back and forth. Four lovely gasping sissy's standing in a row, squealing softly as they wanked. Their chests seemed to expand, to swell, rising and falling while their thighs closed on one another, knees dipping and then straightening.

Although engrossed in their exercise the prettyboys were all keenly aware of the expressions their action provoked among the women. The softly spoken chorus of 'uuugg's' and 'ooohh's' that accompanied their self-inflicted pleasure made the women's faces glow with interest, perhaps even naked excitement, and their large bosoms lifted and sank rapidly as the tip of each erection became moist and pink.

Wracked by spasms as their hands moved in a frenzy it wasn't too long before each of the little angel's began shuddering, skimming higher and higher to seek the peak of pure sensation. Agony, ecstasy, shame and joy were etched in all of their porcelain-like features.

"Disgusting!" exclaimed Mrs Gannet, slack mouthed and working her thighs like bellows.

"My daughter will be green with envy when I tell her about this," commented Mrs Glossop, "She loves watching boys beat their meat. She's forever pestering her brothers to let her watch."

The other woman wasn't listening. Her attention was entirely captured by the performance just a few feet in front of her. "Unbelievable! They're all such smooth, cute things, and they blush so prettily. Look at that one - What an angel. He's as stiff as a pole. One could hang a flag on it."

Although still occupied in lovingly stroking Amanda's stiff willy Mrs Tichborne peered between them for a moment. "Dirty wankers. Their fairy-queen arses will deserve a good smack when they've finished tossin'-off."

"That won't be long now." Mrs Frobisher said.

Some of the other spectators moaned as they gazed at the line of lovely erect organs with eager eyes, and one or two abandoned the pretence of decency and openly put a hand up their skirts.

Fragile Miss Moffet made an urgent and frantic search of her handbag. "Oh dear, I suppose I'd better wear my spectacles."

Trudy ejaculated first. He'd been showing a copious amount of precum almost from the start and now he was squirming his thighs and moaning with each urgent move of his hand as his foreskin slipped over and back, over and back across his glistening cock-head.

Stroke, stroke, stroke. His legs opened to show the dangle of his testicles as he changed his grip to a full-handed wraparound and increased the speed of his personal caress to a furious pounding. The frantic rubbing lasted for half a minute, then his mouth squeezed out a guttural protest between clenched teeth.

"Gggnnn - oh - ooow!"

The sweetie came, eyes wide and moist as he squealed with sissy rapture. His body convulsed and his hips pushed his spasming cock forward as a glop of white cum exuded from the flaring slit at the tip of his gland. Several more followed rapidly, the last and smallest dangling tenaciously by a strand of its own making, stubbornly remaining to swirl like a lariat as his hand worked to rid the invidious ache from his cock.

The sight released the physiological brakes on the other sissy's. Moaning in unmelodious chorus, legs shaking, their slim bodies quaked. All frantically tugged and jerked, pushed and pulled, and one by one they also shot out their sissy-cream.

Jemima imitated Trudy, his hand working in a blur until a shuddering thrill coursed through his body. "Ahhhhh... aaaahhh!" He emitted a tiny shriek of amazement as his penis kicked in his fingers and a glorious blob of translucent ejaculate heaved forward in a modest arc.

A moment later Zoë succumbed. Whimpering with joy his hips pushed forward and his sissy-cock throbbed out its juice, an impressive amount that first leapt up and then slavered down heavily over his tightly clenched, pumping fist.

It was all too much for poor Lulabelle who gurgled in alarm when the firm plum of his penis began to ooze juice from the vent at its apex. Eyes staring, mouth agape, he looked almost surprised when a gout of semen finally burst forth, spitting rather than oozing, and making the woman avidly watching directly to his front panic and reel back in her seat.

"Unnnnhhh!" His eyes rolled as he squeezed and the last slaver of creamy cum boiled out to lubricate his delicate fingers.

At the back of the crowd of women Amanda was still in the captivity of Mrs Tichborne's intoxicating caress while perched upon her lap, but with his friends jerking off so openly, he too surrendered to an inevitable rush of pleasure.

With the lady's hands sliding up and down his body and with his swollen cock being so boldly milked he shuddered, moaned and writhed, and his face became a mask of anguish as he released his pent up excitement. "Oh miss. Oooow, ooooow!" he crooned.

Instantly the tiny handkerchief wrapped around the tip of his youthsome stalk became sodden with warm wetness, while an excess of creamy ejaculate oozed through the flimsy fabric to baste the woman's fingers. Mrs Tichborne blinked hard. "Goodness me! I never thought a slip-of-a-thing like you could be so - erm - full of it."

"My, my! Just look at all that goo coming out of them all!" exclaimed Mrs Frobisher, "Such youthful young men, yet such large amounts. I've not seen so much spunk squirting at one time for years. Not since the girls played games with the boys at my last school dance."

Open Day at Fairyfield Grange was well underway but it was far from over, and whilst most of the women guests were being entertained in one of the classrooms, an uninvited one in the form of Mrs Amos was following behind Margaret Pardoe and climbing the twisting back stairs. She trailed behind the tutor as she led the way along the second floor corridors, puffing and panting and decrying the need to rush, but in the end she deemed all the effort worthy.

To mark the Open Day celebrations the internal walls of the closet-room, so often called 'the dungeon', had been lined with imitation stone-cladding to make it actually resemble the torture chamber in a castle keep, and on each side of the room a half dozen students stood immobilised, their thin wrists bound by rope and hauled over their heads by a pulley device coming down from the ceiling.

They were naked except for a black leather dog-collar decorated with stainless steel rivets and a ball gag stuffed into their mouths. Hoisted onto tiptoe their bodies were stretched taut enough for their ribs to be definable beneath their delicate skin.

"This is a bit sort o' kinky in't it?" remarked Mrs Amos with a smirk. "Miss Hancock don't 'alf lay on a good show for people she wants to impress, don't she?"

"Show is all it is," insisted Mrs Pardoe coldly, "Everything today is designed to stimulate the imagination and set pulses racing, but visitors will be allowed to do no more than spank 'em and wank 'em in this place."

"It certainly stim'lates my imagination." replied the other woman thoughtfully. She gawped lecherously at the pale naked bodies quite openly, enjoying the bewildered expressions on so many faces and the way each lissom figure squirmed against its bindings.

She appreciated their helplessness. She'd been denied contact with such creatures the entire term, and now there were so many at her fingertips, striped-off, accessible and unable to fend her away. Her flesh tingled as she stroked the smooth chest of one sissy and the belly of another while contemplating the hang of their cocks and balls, then she squinted at a small victim strung up on the end of the line.

"Um, yes. I remembers this 'un. I's had me eyes on him for ages." The helpless sissy-boy in her sights screwed his face around the fat bung in his mouth as she waddled across and gripped his penis with finger and thumb.

Mrs Pardoe gave her a steely sideways glance as she detached one of the others from the rope on which he dangled and briskly pulled him forward. "I've already chosen someone for you. Miriam will be bringing some ladies here from the fashion show in a few minutes, so we can't afford to dawdle. You weren't invited to this event and I'm risking her considerable displeasure by sneaking you in. Especially since Emma Twist promised her you'd never be allowed to touch the students."

"Hmph! I allus said Miss Twist's tongue ran away wi' her. But a deals a deal between us two Mrs Pardoe. Yer don't get owt fer nowt in this world."

"Believe me, I wouldn't be doing this if you hadn't made me an attractive proposition." the tutor replied fiercely, remembering the pact they'd recently made.

The illicit guest made no reply, but contented herself watching the schoolteacher tether the selected sissy's hands behind his back with a plastic snap-tie, then force them up his back in order to bind them in place with a leather thong hanging from his collar. The subject's wide eyes mirrored his disenchantment, but he knew struggling was futile. "Where's all the gents gone?" Mrs Amos asked at last.

"They'll be with a number of other sissies in the gymnasium."

"Pumpin' lil' arseholes like billy-oh, I bet." She gazed at the trussed-up boy being offered to her. "What's this ones name."

Mrs Pardoe looked at the person referred to, pushing the fringe of hair up from his brow. "Names aren't too important on days such as this. Call him Fido, he'll come to heel like a dog if you're assertive."

She swung round. "Take care what you do, Mrs Amos. You can belt him with a strap, and you're at liberty to use your sordid imagination in whatever way you wish. But Miss Hancock won't tolerate canes or whips - and of course she won't stand for any male-on-female sex either."