Mare's Tales                  by: Beverly Taff

 

Chapter 19.

We departed the next day amidst the good wishes and cautions of my friends.

"Do take care and drive carefully." Begged Veronica.

I realised her worry stemmed from the fact that two of the vital members of the team that could replace her arms were going on a car journey. I kissed Vee and reassured her that we would take care and I promised to phone when we had arrived at Miss Lane’s. The journey was uneventful and we arrived in the early evening whilst several classes were playing hockey in the warm evening sun. We stopped the car in the drive to watch the games. Margaret caught me gazing thoughtfully at the girls and smiled as she reached across and patted my tummy before surreptitiously squeezing my cock. I squirmed nervously and tried to cross my legs. It was impossible with the bulge of the growing fruit within my womb and I sat helplessly with my legs apart as she took her sly pleasure at my expense. My sensitive cunny lips became damp and I squeaked a protest as I tried to brush her knowing hands away.

"Don't worry Bev my dear. None of those pupils is like you. They are all enjoying their games of hockey I can assure you."

She started the car again and we approached the school along the drive. We passed some junior pupils going walking and I could tell that few, if any of them, were enjoying the tight corseting, frilly frocks and impossibly high stilt heeled shoes. As we approached them in the drive I couldn't help but smile a little as they struggled with their ribbons, frills, parasols and handbags. They all hobbled awkwardly to avoid being coated with dust by the car’s wheels. We slowed right down but I couldn't help smiling as one poor little dear slipped and fell on her bottom in the dust. Her pretty blue frock was hopelessly marked and I couldn't help but notice her frilly blue knickers as the mistress smacked her dusty bottom with the little switch they invariably carried. The poor little boy-girl –(for it was a boy-girl by the colour of her ribbons)- sobbed and squealed as she writhed and twisted helplessly in the mistress’s firm grip.

I turned to Margaret.

"Things haven't changed much have they?"

"Not really Bev. It's tried and tested, and it works."

I had to agree with her as we pulled up in front of the school’s main entrance.

Two very pretty girls met us on the steps and courtesied. I had to look twice before I realised that they were Bernard and Jeanette my own two children. I ached to hold out my hands and gather them to me but I knew that this would have compromised the strict discipline of the junior school. It was also probable that their classmates would have teased them cruelly if they had displayed any emotion in public. Peer pressure was a very strong force.

I couldn't resist a smile however and they shyly smiled back before glancing furtively around to check that they hadn't been seen.

Both my children took our overnight bags whilst a senior girl took our car and parked it near the stables. Margaret and I ascended the broad steps and I couldn't help shuddering as the old familiar walls and windows cast their long remembered shadows in the late evening sun.

Our heels clicked noisily on the hard stone stairs as we approached Miss Lane’s office. Margaret knocked on the door, paused then entered boldly whilst I waited discreetly outside. She returned and smiled then took my hand and drew me into Miss Lanes office. Miss Lane was just pouring a cup of tea and she looked up with surprise. A huge smile beamed across her face and she extended her hand in friendship. I took it nervously and she spotted my demeanour. By way of encouragement she hugged me tight and kissed my cheek before speaking.

"Well my dearest Beverly. It's wonderful to see you."

I had never been so close to Miss lane before. The trace of expensive perfume caught me by surprise as she squeezed my face against her breast like an elderly aunt welcoming a long lost wayward niece. I felt her heart beat a little quicker and realised that her happiness to see me was genuine. I relaxed and returned the hug.

"It's wonderful to see you Miss Lane. How long has it been?"

"Too long Miss Beverly. Consider yourself told off for delaying your return for so long. I'm even more disgusted with your friends. I haven't seen any of them since they graduated from university. They seem to have disappeared off the face of the earth. I remember all my pupils you know. The only communication I've had from any of you is a letter from Miss Veronica requesting a suitable maid and then a follow-up letter telling me that she's been very happy with the young lady I sent. That's all the news I've ever had from them. Do you still see them?"

"Oh yes Miss Lane. I see them all the time. We've been very busy at my father’s pharmaceutical firm and we've gone some way towards easing their mobility problems. I'm sure that Dr James will confirm all this to you when the time is right. Furthermore, when that time is right, they will return to see you."

I glanced over Miss Lane’s shoulder at Margaret and she stifled a silent laugh at the 'half-truth'. I went on.

"I can't stay for long for I've got to get home with my children. I've got some important information for my father."

"Oh come, come now Miss Beverly." She admonished me. "You will at least stay for dinner in the upper school dining hall. It’s Friday and I'm sure you remember that we always have a formal dining in. It would be nice if you could stay the night and finish your journey tomorrow."

Margaret pointed to some dark thunderclouds that had bubbled up during the long hot day. Even as she was about to speak there was a brilliant flash followed by a crash of thunder.

"It looks like a strong thunderstorm Beverly, I suggest you take the offer. You could easily stay in the guest suite next to my rooms."

I stared at the darkening sky as the first heavy splashes of rain pinged against the windowpanes and the pupils scattered helter-skelter as the rain kicked up fountains of dust from the parched earth. Within seconds the dry ground was darkening and the driving rain mingled with the earth to create that most attractive earthy smell. I opened a window and savoured the cool breeze as the thunder rolled and crashed around the school. As we stood watching the storm, the rain sodden clouds accelerated nightfall and it was dark unexpectedly early. Miss Lane’s invitation became more attractive so I accepted it.

"All right, I’ll stay," I agreed, "but I'd better phone my parents. They are expecting me late tonight."

Miss Lane passed me the receiver as I approached the desk. I took the phone and after a few rings my father’s voice answered.

"No problem darling. It's been pouring down here as well. There are some flash floods near the village so it's better that you wait until tomorrow. Will the children be staying here during the summer or are you taking them back with you to your place?"

It was nice to hear my dad’s voice and we stayed chatting about arrangements for the summer vacation until the dinner gong sounded in the corridor. I thanked Miss Lane for the phone-call and we changed for dinner.

In the guest rooms I met Dorothy, Dot’s mother. As she helped me change we discussed her daughter. She described the letters that Dot sent her and how they were full of happiness. I was pleased to discover that Dot had not betrayed any confidences. Dorothy gently patted my tummy and smiled as we chatted about my older children and their progress at the school. Dorothy still specialised in the middle school so she had little to do with them but she was able to discuss some things that Miss Lane may not have seen fit to mention.

I sat facing the mirror as she gently brushed my hair. My bulge was huge now and I wondered if Bernard and Jeanette had realised I was pregnant.

"When is the baby due?" Asked Dorothy.

I told her and she studied my shape.

"You're quite large aren’t you?"

"It's twins again." I smiled.

"Oh lucky-lucky you!"

She gently squeezed my tummy and the twins responded with their inevitable kicks. She smiled and helped me roll my tights up my legs. Stockings and suspenders were no longer suitable over my lump for it was impossible for me to bend to attach them. After slipping on a low-heeled pair of pumps I was ready for dinner.

I tripped off down to dinner with my heels clicking loudly on the corridor tiles. The sound of my own progress brought back memories and I gave a shudder before reassuring myself that I was no longer trapped within these walls.

I joined Miss Lane and Margaret at the top table with the other senior mistresses. I recognised some old familiar faces while others where new to me. Amongst the old familiar faces were some I remembered warmly and I gave them a warm genuine smile. Others, I had detested and they simply received a polite nod. It was uncanny how Miss Lane knew which were the ones I’d liked and how they had been seated close to me.

We were served by some of the older girls and commenced dining immediately after prayers.

As in the old days, some of the girls were harnessed as a punishment for some misdemeanour and their friends had to feed them as I had always fed Jenny and Vee. The meal was excellent, having been cooked by the girls themselves as part of their training for domestic servility in later life. On top table the conversation was stimulating for my old teachers were all intelligent women with excellent academic credentials. Whatever else Miss Lane’s academy was guilty of, bad academic standards was not part of it.

I reflected silently upon my own excellent education, which had effectively liberated me to do as I pleased. I was a free spirit, able and capable enough to pursue my own interests whilst supporting myself by contributions to science. The bulk of the work we were doing had to remain secret though, and we had no intention of publicising our work until we were a long way down our chosen road. For the time being it was sufficient for me just to drip the occasional gem onto my father’s desk so that he could exploit it commercially and thus advance our mutual financial interests.

The meal ended and the staff retired with the senior girls to their common room were more entertainment and conversation continued.

A play had been written by one of the girls who was obviously destined for greater things. It was produced and performed by the girls and it proved to be very enjoyable. As I looked around the common room I thought that Miss Lane and her academy might have relaxed and mellowed a bit but I was soon brought to earth as the play ended.

A large black punishment book was produced and all the senior girls who were under sentence were placed naked upon the stage, even two girls whom I had noticed performing excellently in the play. It resembled a slave market as the naked girls and 'boy-girls’ were paraded in a line. Some who were already harnessed were ritualistically unharnessed then punished and promptly reharnessed as they had yet to finish their sentences. Some were released and they returned joyously to the bosoms of their friends whilst others were harnessed for the first time as they were sentenced.

I was surprised to see that the girls themselves meted out the corporal punishment. The whole exercise left me a little saddened as I reflected upon the academy. It seemed worse with this unnecessary bit of malice by the girls to each other.

I though back to the times when we 'girls' had enjoyed each other’s mutual comfort and support in the face of the adversity of the mistresses and their domination. I considered the exercise to be a backward step and mentioned it to Margaret over a cup of coffee.

"Oh don't worry about it Beverly. If you were here every week, you would realise that it's the same girls who end up being 'punished' every week. They enjoy it and those other girls are always the same ones meting it out. They certainly don't hurt each other and it causes little resentment amongst them because they are all close friends. The roles are also reversible. In fact Bev, they become interdependent upon one another. Just as you five did though for various and different reasons. Their interdependencies make them remain in contact after school and builds up the old school network. If you saw them in their dormitories tonight you would see how thoroughly they enjoy 'making up'."

"How do you know that?" I countered.

"We've watched them."

I swallowed at the mention of surveillance and demanded to know more.

"What! You mean closed circuit cameras?"

Margaret stared at me and motioned with her head.

"Come to my apartment Beverly and I'll show you."

We both discreetly departed from the common room and I followed her to her rooms.

She unlocked the door and then led me through another door via her bedroom to an inner sanctum. As she unlocked this door, the front door buzzer sounded. She explained that one door could not be operated without the other being correctly set thus it was impossible for her to forget to lock both doors or for anybody to enter the inner sanctum unexpectedly. She led me into this inner sanctum and I was amazed.

The whole of one wall was a mass of monitors and video recorders. Each one was displaying a different dormitory. Margaret explained how every single pupil in every bed could be monitored as they slept or did anything else. Each pupil’s most intimate friendships or activities were monitored on the cameras. No pupil had any privacy. I was almost too shocked to speak.

"Where these here when I was here?" I asked.

"Only in the later years. It was set up when you were in the middle school."

I gasped as she continued.

Do you want to see some old library archive videos of your activities with your friends when you slept together in your own dormitory?"

My head swam as I tried to imagine what she had recorded.

"NO! NO!" I cried. "How could you be so evil as to have done such a thing? Al- all our most private and intimate moments drooled over by you." I sobbed. "It's horrible. Just too horrible to even contemplate."

I ran from the video room and flung myself onto the bed as I held my head in my hands and wept.

My skin crawled as she tried to comfort me and I jumped up and ran from her rooms to my own. All the time the tears streamed down my face as I lay sobbing on my own bed. Margaret followed me in. I demanded that she leave but she insisted that she be given a chance to explain.

"Beverly my love we don't take these pictures for some sort of perverted visceral thrill. We have to know as much about each pupil as we can. Without being a party to their innermost intimate activities we can never even begin to determine what is going on in their heads. This way we can accurately determine what is best for them.

How do you think I came to the conclusion to ‘change’ Jenny and Jacky but not you? Without the cameras I could never even begin to hope to get inside your heads to determine your real personalities and decide the best course of action. Most of the boy-girls or girls who come here have arrived with some sort of behavioural problem. A police record, or personality disorder created by their backgrounds, upbringing or hormone imbalances.

For heavens sake Beverly! You yourself came here because of your discovered transvestism. It was only when we discovered your hermaphrodism and the real reasons for your hormonal peculiarities that we were able to do something for you. Just think about it I implore you. Just think how happy you are now that you've discovered the real you and the real reasons for your juvenile deviancy. The cameras are there for nothing more than genuine clinical and scientific purposes.

If you don't believe me come and read some of my notes and files. No, better still, read the notes from your own files. I'll go and get it."

The idea of reading psychiatric notes about my own childhood as written by Dr James intrigued me. I stopped sobbing and dried my eyes as she returned with a bulging folder.

"Here Beverly read this."

She handed me the dossier and left to go and make some coffee.

I opened the file and started reading it avidly. It was exactly as Margaret had described. I realised that I was looking as deep into my own soul or psyche as I would ever get whilst still travelling objectively. I spent nearly an hour reading the report from cover to cover and concluded that Margaret was a damned good psychiatrist as well as a surgeon. I felt as though I had just put my psyche through a mental mangle and wrung every last drop of sub consciousness from my brain. It was a very apologetic Beverly that crept back to Margaret's room with the file tucked under her arm.

She was busy in the monitor room so I knocked loudly on the bedroom door and waited before she released the double lock and let me in again.

"Well. What do you think now?" She demanded defensively.

"I honestly don't know. I must admit though that, for a surgeon, you must be one of the best psychiatrists around. And I'm saying that as a doctor myself."

"Well least said, soonest mended," she replied. "Now sit down and watch some of the girls you saw being 'punished' this evening."

I drew up another chair next to Margaret and together we watched the girls in their dormitories. I felt a little like an observer at an experimental behaviour laboratory as she described each pupil and focused the camera upon his or her activities. She documented all their actions and interactions with each other pupil as her observations spanned the whole ambit of psychosexual behaviour. It became more and more obvious to me that Margaret could be no more voyeuristic than a fly on the wall. It was an education to watch the speed and skill as she analysed and documented the behaviour as she edited the videotapes accordingly. I was left speechless with admiration. The depth and speed of her note taking was profound to say the least. I could have spent all night sharing her analysis but I had a long day ahead of me so I rose to go. Dr James caught my movement and stood up as well.

"Don't leave just yet. Let's have another coffee."

"O.K." I agreed. "I'll re-heat the percolator while you finish up here."

I left her lab, went through her bedroom to the kitchen and started making it. As the percolator bubbled away, I searched for the milk and biscuits. I was bent over the kitchen units searching for a tray when Margaret swished into the kitchen. I heard the soft silky swish of something feminine and turned around with surprise. She was standing in the doorway looking a picture.

I had never thought of Margaret in a sexual capacity before. Even when she had ‘used’ me to fertilise herself and conceive Susan it had been an almost clinical operation. She had always struck me as a bit of a cold fish, interested only in medicine, surgery and psychiatry.

"D'you like what you see?" She whispered.

I let out a deep sigh and smiled.

"Why Margaret, you look beautiful!"

She leaned against the doorpost wearing a diaphanous dressing gown that revealed more than it concealed. Underneath it I could clearly see the outline of a stretchy lacy teddy with long suspenders attached to a pair of sheer stockings. I stared, mesmerised by the vision of beauty as she slowly slinked towards me. I stood stupefied with the coffee pot in my hand as she gently released my grip and placed it on the sink. She then took my hand and tugged me towards the bedroom where she sat me down on the bed.

For several seconds my greedy eyes drank in the tempting vision of loveliness before me, a full-blooded woman in her late thirties, as I had never seen Margaret before. She turned me round and gently unbuttoned my dress then slowly peeled it down over my flared hips and gravid fertile belly. My back arched sensitively as her fingers lingered over the cleft of my bum cheeks then sensuously slid around to stroke my bulge.

Carefully she rolled me on my back and pursed her lips as she fiddled with the poppers on my special travelling teddy. This pregnancy-teddy had a specially shaped tube that contained my penis and allowed it freedom to swell under my maternity clothes. It didn't show under my swollen tummy and it was a luxury to let my cock dangle free under my dress snugly encased in his own little silky tube. It was a paradox to have my cock swinging free as an ordinary man's whilst I functioned in my full capacity as a woman and enjoyed the profound fulfilment of pregnancy.

Margaret gently stroked my gentleman friend encased in his own frilly tube and she admired Dot's skilful handiwork as a seamstress.

"Mmm. What's this little arrangement for then, you kinky thing?"

I twitched as the silky stroking sensations translated onto my cock and he became stiff with pleasure.

"Well it's difficult wearing a cache-sex because of my pregnancy so Dot ran up a couple of teddies like this to make my friend more comfortable without pressing hard on my bladder. I must admit though it's very comfortable and feels extra sexy when I get hard; like now." I gasped.

"I'll bet it is." She grinned as she gently squeezed the stiff silky frilly tube.

She gently took my head and pressed her lips to mine as she planted a soft kiss on them.

"I'd like another baby too." She whispered. "Come on. Let's do it here and now."

She tugged urgently at my teddy as she struggled with the poppers buried away under my cock tube.

"Dammit. These are tight ones." She swore. "How d'you undo them?"

"Here. Let me." I giggled as I deftly released the extra strong poppers with a clever twist and popping motion. "They are for extra security because my cock could pop them when he gets stiff in the tube and stretches the gusset too tight. The extra tight gusset makes my cunny lips horny and I come very quickly. It's important when I'm out and about that my swollen cock finds relief early so that the erection is not noticed. That's another reason for these teddies. Dot and I worked it out when she noticed my uncomfortable erections a couple of weeks ago, She’s a gem with a sowing machine."

Margaret giggled and bent down to study the arrangement. As she gently peeled the flimsy material off my hard cock I reached around her bum and freed the poppers of her teddy. She then slid onto the bed and lay in a pose of utter abandonment with the 'tails' of her teddy draped across her inner thighs and her suspenders stretched tight from the teddy to the stocking tops. I carefully lay down facing her and she gripped my rigid friend with an urgency that betrayed her desperate needs.

"Why me again Margaret my love. With your stunning good looks, you could have any man you wanted."

She lay on her back with one knee bent up as a little tear dwelled on her eyelids before slowly tracing its silver path over her soft delicate cheek. As she gathered her thoughts she turned to look at me straight in the eye.

"I'm a lesbian Bev. Surely you've realised that by now."

"Well I realise that my love. But if it's simply to have a baby then surely you could stand going with an ordinary man just to make the connection. Especially when you and I both know the likelihood of you are having a hermaphrodite like me or Bernard."

"There's far more to it than that Bev.

Firstly I want another girl like Susan because I hate men so much I couldn't bear to have a son inside me.

Secondly with your method of ejaculation I can select the sex by separating the sperm and giving myself your daughter by artificial insemination even after you've penetrated me.

Thirdly you are a girl in every way except that, but I can accept you in my bed because you are soft and gentle and feminine. Finally, you are not stupid and I want clever children. I couldn't stand a thick child."

With these words she gently tugged my rigid gentleman friend and pressed herself against my swollen belly as she worked herself onto his shaft. At first Margaret’s eugenic notions disturbed me and I felt I was being used but as Margaret's starved emotions took hold of her, I responded with equal urgency. Despite my heavily pregnant state our lovemaking became quite passionate as her libido took control and her urgings brought her to a massive orgasm. Her climax exploded through her body and she let out a long high-pitched wail as she collapsed alongside me.

I had still not ejaculated yet for I knew that we somehow had to catch the sperm as it spurted over my vulva. Margaret read my mind and anxiously struggled with the bedside draw to produce a familiar boat shaped dish to hold against my sex as I came. She started to gyrate again and her expert activities soon caused an orgasm to start boiling up within my loins. She swiftly slipped the bowl under my vulva and collected my juices whilst I squirmed delightfully as her fingers gently stroked my vulva lips. It was almost like milking a cow as my seed spurted into the bowl. With a sigh of satisfaction she replaced the bowl on the bedside cabinet and slowly ground her pussy to yet another orgasm. It was obvious that she had not enjoyed sex for a long time as she used my 'girl-cock’ to satisfy her libido’s special needs.

Once she had completed the fulfilment of her needs she slipped out of the bed and buttoned up her teddy again. I lay quietly watching her curvaceous buttocks as she slipped on an overall and turned to smile at me.

"Do you want to come to the labs and see how I separate the male and female sperm?"

"Mmmm, that'd be interesting. Wait a moment I’ll join you."

 

She indicated another overall hanging behind the door and I slipped it over my swollen tummy. I couldn’t fasten the lower buttons but I simply held the coat closed with my hands as we slipped quietly along the corridor to the labs.

There she showed my sperm under the microscope and demonstrated how she separated the males from the females. It was a simple metal filter, which prevented the long tailed sperm from passing. Additionally a strong magnetic field was offset to attract the different sperm and divert them. It was a brilliant device and would bring Margaret some considerable fiscal reward when it was successfully developed. For the present, it was a crude laboratory technique but the principles worked.

After having separated enough sperm she smiled victoriously and savoured her moment as she poured the male sperm down the drain. I couldn't help but wonder where poor Margaret had been so badly damaged as to suffer such a deep hatred of all things male. I almost subconsciously squeezed my gentleman friend up into my vagina to make him all but invisible. As though denying the very existence of anything masculine about my person. Margaret caught me surreptitiously fiddling with the crotch of my teddy and smiled softly.

"It's O.K. Bev. Not you. Never you. It was me that brought you to full womanhood and that lovely bump proves it."

She gently patted my tummy and guided me towards a padded sort of chair that looked like exactly what it was, a device for examining women’s parts.

She casually climbed up and spread her legs with nonchalant ease as she handed me the little sample of my own separated sperm.

"Now. Go on lover girl. Impregnate me now, I’m at my most fertile."

I grinned and shook my head with wonder.

'This woman could be very offhand at times.' I thought.

I took the sample and carefully entered her sex. With extra care I gently introduced the tiny tube passed her cervix to be more certain of a fertilisation. With this delicate operation completed, she smiled and steered me back to the bed.

There between the soft satiny sheets she gently took one of my nipples between her lips and fell asleep like a suckling child.

Her last conscious act was to caress my ripening tummy and sigh with anticipation as she felt my babies move. I soon joined her in a deep sleep and we hardly moved until Dorothy woke us in the morning. She put down both breakfast trays and smiled knowingly as she drew back the curtains and opened a window. The storm had passed and the summer morning air was fresh and clean as we stirred. Margaret and I gently rubbed against each other with our legs inter-twined as we sat up in bed attacking our breakfasts.

As we dressed each other we heard the pupils below the open window making their way to lessons and I lovingly combed Margaret's hair as the twins kicked vigorously.

 

I gently pressed my tummy against Margaret’s shoulders and she turned her head to rest her cheek against the quickening life inside me.

"That's a beautiful sensation. I can't wait to get my biological clock ticking to that rhythm again." She murmured.

We remained thus for fully two minutes as the twins squirmed and kicked whilst Margaret rubbed her cheeks against my tummy. I carried on gently caressing her head and combing her hair until the school class bell brought us back to earth.

"Gosh is it that late. I'm supposed to pick up the twins and Susan in a few minutes. I'll have to be on my way." I squeaked.

"Gosh! Me too." Said Margaret. "I've got some surgery to day on one of the boy-girls."

My heart missed a beat as the other side of Margaret’s nature was bared. She obviously hated boys and her job at Miss lanes was an excellent way for her to 'get back' at men. I gave a little shiver and wondered how close I'd come to her vengeful knife. I automatically squeezed my gentleman friend tucked inside my cunny, as though to reassure him that he was safe. I was deeply suspicious of Margaret's motives and all her talk about psychosexual analysis.

‘How many 'boy-girls’ had gone under the knife for less than proper reasons?’ I asked my self.

I resolved to make damned sure that Bernard would suffer nothing like that at the hands of Dr Margaret James’s surgery. It was by the pure grace of God that I had been born a hermaphrodite. Bernard would need a lot of protection if he was the same as me and it looked very much as though he was. I was euphorically happy with my strange dual sexuality, it remained to be seen if Bernard was the same.

Margaret and I parted in the quadrangle where our children were waiting. In the privacy of one of the darker arches she kissed our own daughter Susan and my twins Bernard and Jeanette. They responded with pathetic urgency and hugged her tightly as they finally clambered into my car. I made my farewells to Miss Lane and some other old favourites amongst the mistresses before rejoining my children and setting off for home.

 

 

*********************************************
© 2001 by Beverly Taff. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.