A Sissy Saga Ch. 25

Showing no concern Monica turned back to Zoë. "Now then, be a sweet girl and do as you're told."

Just before midday Mrs Blanquette arrived to collect her son Simon, now called Amanda. Looking beyond the garden out onto the dale so balmy in the sunshine and with the grassy hillsides garlanded with cowslips and buttercups, it was difficult to believe that it was the same place she'd brought him to as a young man just a few months earlier. The sky was a cerulean, almost Mediterranean blue of high summer, and the fells were rich gold tipped with lilac hues.

They met in the entrance hall and embraced. She smelled of Chanell and made mother-hen noises, giving out hugs and kisses in an ostentatious show of maternal affection. "What a long time it's been," she said, "And, oh, how I've missed my baby. So rosy-cheeked and healthy now. Hardly the same snippet I brought here."

"That's not all, I'm growing tits too," her sissy declared rather proudly, "They're only small at the moment, but matron says they'll get bigger if I keep taking the medicine, and I'll probably need a larger bra next term."

The mother smiled and held her son at arms length for inspection and her first impressions were confirmed. He was every man's wet-dream. A world-class pussyboy. The kind of sissy people mortgaged their houses to own.

Hovering nearby Miss Hancock was quick to enjoin with some courteous conversation. "Amanda as settled in extremely well and as made lots of new friends."

"That's such a relief," Mrs Blanquette replied, "You'll know just how much we mothers fret about our children's welfare, and this was the first time my little treasure as left my side."

A young pretty blond thing wearing immaculately applied make-up and the full regalia of a housemaid bobbed a curtsy and offered up a tray bearing a glass of lemonade.

"Charming! Er - one of your girls, Miss Hancock?"

The headmistress nodded. "This is Wendy. Quite fully trained and ready to be placed as a live-in consort to a wealthy City stock-broker within the next few days. The dear man is quite head-over-heels in love with her."

"I'm impressed. Impressed with everything. Your establishment is clearly meeting with success."

"I try not to be complacent, but yes, I've met with a good deal of satisfaction lately. I've already delivered my first trained girly-boy to a gentleman in Surrey - a retired High-Court judge would you believe? And one of my other prospects as been successfully matched with a local lady of good standing. I've also placed a charming creature with two elderly matrons in Cheltenham."

"Cheltenham?"

"Yes, it's a very pleasant little town full of retired professional people. They play golf and bridge most of the time, but they're constantly seeking other diversions, which all bodes well for the future."

"Greg and Judd too." added Mrs Pardoe, moving up to her elbow.

"Yes, we've also taken on a commission to arrange for two village lads to go to America. But I'd have to count that as something separate to our normal business."

Amanda wriggled. "We'll have to wait a few minutes mummy, my bags haven't come down yet."

"Have you packed your housemaid outfit?"

"Erm, no. I didn't think I'd need it at home."

"Go and pack it and bring it with you, darling. I'll want you to practise your domestic skills during the holidays. I'll wait for you in the garden."

Mrs Blanquette calculated that the gardens behind the house would offer a chance for tranquil contemplation, and indeed the only noises to pierce sublimity there were those of birds squabbling high on the roof of the house.

The sun was in her eyes when she glanced up, but even so she could easily make out the flutter of feathers amid the twisted shapes and grimacing stone creatures half-suspended from the overhanging eaves. Gargoyles, she thought, but then saw what they really were and was shocked, amused and surprised in equal measure.

Perhaps mythical beings - fairies - had always been associated with Fairyfield Grange, but that didn't explain why intimate portions of their anatomy should serve as decoration for the roof. Was one expected to appreciate yawning vaginas, thrusting breasts and delicate carved creatures being impaled on rampant stone erections? Only Indian gods went in for such antics, but the roof line of the Grange made even the Kama Sutra seem demure.

Having become stirred by the architecture she found herself looking at the arch over the gatehouse and she stopped dead, for there she noted, considerably battered by weathering but nonetheless discernible, the carvings of two figures. Perhaps it was a quirk of the imagination, but the scene portrayed appeared to be that of a youth struggling with a mythical beast - a sexually aroused satyr. Or was it? Inexplicably the satyr seemed to have breasts.

Bemused and baffled she settled onto a garden seat. It was a glorious day and the sun was hot. Bumblebees were navigating between clumps of purple marjoram in a nearby rockery, and a little grey-brown dunnock was splashing in a birdbath on the edge of the terrace.

Two women came into sight, tracing their way along the narrow gravel path in front of her. The one leading the way with confident strides she recognised as Miss Hancock's daughter, the second, heavily burdened with a bundle of brooms and a vacuum-cleaner she'd never seen before.

It would have been a scene of unmemorable domestic routine were it not for certain things she was quick to notice, for while the girl was dressed in an unremarkable but smart blouse and skirt and flat shoes her belt was adorned by what appeared to be a Scottish tawse. The other woman, trailing behind and struggling with the household paraphernalia was more strikingly attired. Her shoes had high stiletto heels which appeared incongruous with her skimpy two-piece bikini.

The teenager gave her a polite 'Good afternoon' as she passed by, then turned to chastise the woman following. "Do get a move on Diana or it'll be midnight before you've done cleaning the classrooms."

Diana Chance-Barton tottered and stumbled and the hose of the vacuum tumbled to the ground, whereupon she whimpered pathetically. "There's such a lot to carry Jennifer. I - I can't manage it all."

With a loud tut of irritation the girl backtracked, picked up the vacuum-hose and looped it around the woman's neck. "There! If you had any brains you could have done that yourself before you started out, couldn't you?"

The woman's head drooped. "Yes Jennifer. Sorry Jennifer."

"Right! Now get a move on like I told you, or you'll find yourself getting a smack before you even start work." She smiled again at Mrs Blanquette. "Decent staff are so hard to find these days, aren't they?"

The visitor laughed. She was worldly-wise and not unused to witnessing such scenes of unashamed dominance as the one being played out before her. "That one's got too much to say for herself my dear. I'd gag her if I were you."

"Good idea," said the girl, "I may do that."

As the shapely, near-naked buttocks of the female submissive wobbled off along the path Mrs Blanquette couldn't help but contemplate how ideal they were for receiving a smart walloping, and she didn't doubt that before long they would get one. Maybe they'd even come in for a good caning. Yes, she decided, they really deserved a caning.

Hardly had the two women disappeared from view when a spry looking young individual, naked except for a black garter-belt, nylons and spike-heeled shoes shot out from the door of a low roofed building nearby, and raced across the lawn. Or would have raced had the high heeled sling-backs been more suitable for running on grass. As it was an intended turn of speed quickly became a precarious hobble. Then the figure became obscured by a neatly trimmed hedge of topiary.

Immediately, out from the same door burst a small group of teenaged girls in summer frocks, yelling and laughing and running swiftly in pursuit. When they too disappeared behind the hedges there was silence for a while, then a jubilant girlish cheer.

Mrs Blanquette sat back, puzzled. What a strange place this was!

After another minute the group appeared again; three girls with a rather taller, practically naked form walking in the midst of them. Straining with curiosity Mrs Blanquette beckoned them over to where she sat.

It wasn't until then she realised that the central figure was an attractive young male wearing female hosiery, but no pants, and the leading girl was holding a length of skipping rope, one end of which had been fastened in a noose about the top of his scrotum.

"What on earth are you doing?"

The girl with the rope replied without showing the least qualm of guilt. "We're having fun dressing up Zoë, but as soon as we'd got stockings on him he started to get a stiffy and ran off."

With an equal amount of candidness one of the other girls grinned broadly. "We caught him though, and we worked the stiffy-stuff out of his willy behind the bushes."

Mrs Blanquette scrutinised their captive. A precious looking young man, very sweet and appealing and a perfect model for the girls underwear he was wearing. Apart from the rope looped about his testicles he was otherwise unrestrained, and since he seemed older and bigger than his captors she wondered why he endured their undignifying torments.

"What do you think of all this, Zoë?" she asked him.

He simply shrugged and gazed morosely at the ground. For whatever reason he was utterly in the thrall of the female gang around him.

"He doesn't mind what we do to him, he knows we're only playing a game." said another of the girls.

"He's a sissy, so he does as he's told." added the one with the rope. With a spiteful tug she made her prisoner grimace as she hauled on him. "Come along cock-pleaser. Let's leave the nice lady to enjoy the garden."

A strange place indeed, but one she wouldn't mind being associated with in the future, mused Mrs Blanquette when they'd gone. Perhaps she could gain some sort of kudos with the headmistress if she made a donation to the school funds.

A few minutes later Amanda arrived to tell her his luggage was loaded. He'd taken the opportunity to change his clothes and he looked dazzling in a little black dress that highlighted the perfection of his black stockinged legs. His shoes had four inch stiletto heels were something she'd never indulged him with before, yet he walked in them with perfect feminine elegance. The shoes also caused him to push his tasty bottom back and his chest forward, and yes, he did have the makings of a small bosom. He was a beautiful, sexy, effeminate.

She glanced at her sissy son as he settled beside her in the car. "Your school seems to be a unique one. Do you enjoy being here?"

Amanda nodded. "I want to be a prefect next term mummy. Then I'll be allowed to smack all the first-termers and make them cry."

She started the car then slammed it clumsily into gear, and the tyres screeched as she swung away from the main building and headed down the drive. Amanda gazed up at her with a thoughtful expression. "I say Mummy, I'm a girl now so shall I be allowed to have boyfriends when I'm at home?"

His mother pursed her lips. "Well, you'll be occupied most of the time being a servant-girl, but I'll let you go to the park on Sunday afternoons. There's always lots of boys there who'd like to kiss you and squeeze your little titties, but I expect when you see your new bedroom you'll want to spend the time at home. I've had it redecorated in apricot, and now it as a huge double bed and great big mirrors on the walls and ceiling. It'll be ideal if mummy's friends want to give you a cuddle. Mr Hornbill your old tutor as already booked an evening with you, and you've always liked him, haven't you?"

Young Amanda blushed slightly. He remembered how his tutor at home had a habit of patting his bottom and nuzzling his ear with his mouth. He was sure he'd always wanted to take him to bed. "He'll probably be very naughty with me, mummy."

The woman smiled graciously. "As long as you're an industrious housemaid you'll be allowed a little naughty behaviour quite regularly. It will be your reward for being a good girl. When we get along the road a little way we'll find a nice quiet spot and pull up for a while. I want to take off your bra and examine your new titties, maybe have a little play with them."

"Mummy, that will probably make me feel all hot and sexy."

"Yes, I expect it will, and I'll likely have to give you some relief. That's all part of a caring mother's duty."

As they passed through the front gates of the school dark thunder clouds began forming up on the horizon in promise of a final end to the long, dry season. They also marked the end of the summer term at Fairyfield Grange.