Miss Victoria's School for Girls

by Abby Rhodes

Part Two

 

The next day I appeared at the side door as requested and Miss Blonde greeted me dressed in the most amazing outfit. I suppose it could have been described as a nurse's uniform, but only by someone who had never met an actual nurse. It was a nurse's uniform in the sense that it was white and there was a red cross on it, otherwise it was a creation made from white satin and frothy tulle that was really a French Maids costume in white. Miss Blonde was like a big fluffy white bundle of candy floss on a stick, the stick being her long legs in white stockings and really high heels. She had a little cap on with a red cross on it as well.

She invited me in and had me strip and lie down on the table again. She covered her hands in the same sweet-smelling oil and started to knead and mould my breasts again, but this time she talked.

"Tell me about your dreams, sweetheart, the ones where you wake up and find you've had a little accident. They're called wet dreams, my precious and every boy has them. What we have to do is control them as much as we can."

"I only have them about twice a week right now," I said. "I was worried that I had something wrong with me so I'm pleased to hear I'm normal. What is the white stuff?"

"It's called many things, including jism, cum or come, depending on how you spell it, spunk and sometimes by its correct name, ejaculate. It's seminal fluid and it contains the sperm that makes girls have babies. Have you been told anything about sex yet, Samantha?"

"Well, the other girls talk about it all the time and we understand pretty much how it works, except I'm the only one who ever actually saw a penis and I don't really think of myself as a boy, I've always been a girl really. What should I do, Miss Blonde?"

"The best thing you can do is enjoy having a penis and being a girl. You have the best of both worlds, Samantha. All you have to remember is that you must always act like a lady. Be the sweet girl you are and don't display yourself. Quite soon you will be able to allow your breasts to be seen because they will be the same as the other girls, but they must never know what you have inside your panties. Likewise, they should never show off their vaginas, even to each other. It's most unladylike. Is that feeling good, Samantha?"

I presumed she was talking about my manipulation and it did feel good and I told her so. "I'm looking forward to seeing your breasts grow, Samantha my darling. One day soon I'll show you my whole body. It's time you had proper lessons in what bodies look like and it will show you how you will look in a few years time – an exceptionally beautiful girl, with your big green eyes and that perfect nose. I think you might be the prettiest girl in the class by graduation day."

Miss Blonde made me feel very proud to be a girl and by the time she finished massaging me I was glowing all over again. Once again she kissed me and sent me back to my rooms. I wasn't sure I understood all she told me, but I was determined to please her.

The next day she asked about my dreams again and I couldn't quite remember how they went but I promised to try harder to recall the details for her.

That night my mother made one of her rare calls to me and told me I would be going home for the summer break to our house near New haven in Connecticut. Usually we stayed in our house in Southampton but the Connecticut house was a fun place to go. There were beaches and swimming pools and tons of things to do and my best friend Carlotta had a house nearby. If she was going there as well it would be a great summer. Mother said she was having a long break this year because she was tired of working all the time. She also said she had new household help this year because the house was so big. There were two maids and a secretary plus two cooks and a bunch of housekeepers and gardeners and they were all women.

She asked me about school and I told her about Miss Blonde and my treatment and she expressed her delight that I was enjoying myself. She promised to send a present up and would see me in Connecticut in six weeks.

When I looked in the mirror that night I was sure my breasts had already started to grow. I put my bra on and a satin pyjama set and brushed my hair. By the time I lay down in bed I fell fast asleep in seconds. In minutes I was dreaming.

This one I remembered to tell Miss Blonde. I was now a young woman of around twenty and I was dressed in a gold satin sheath and attending a ball or reception. I looked at myself in a mirror and saw a svelte dark-haired goddess looking back. My make-up was perfect and my eyelashes fluttered and I had the most glorious pair of breasts swelling over the top of the dress. I said to myself 'Thank you Miss Blonde' and walked on into the room. A young man joined me immediately and then another and soon there were five or six gorgeous hunks vying for my attention. I simpered beautifully and was charm personified.

Then disaster. I felt my panties fall to the floor. For a moment I stood frozen until my cool took over. I reached down in a ladylike fashion and picked up the panties and held them up for the young men to inspect. Of course they were the very best black tulle panties with a looping scroll embroidered on them, expensive pieces of frippery that I adored. The guys opened their eyes wide and the most handsome of them all said 'I'll give you a thousand dollars for your panties, Samantha.' 'Really?' I asked. 'Do I hear two thousand?'

Brad smiled. 'Five thousand, Samantha.'

,' I said. I gave them to him and he held them to his face and breathed in my scent. 'Pure nectar,' he said. He held out his hand and took mine and we walked through the french doors to the patio by the swimming pool and he kissed me tenderly on the lips. I felt a rising under my gold sheath and moments later woke to find the now familiar dampness in my satin trousers. But I remembered the dream and wrote it down to tell Miss Blonde the next day.

Miss Blonde was only one of the women I saw every day and most were quite ordinary teachers and people like Miss Victoria and her secretary, her real secretary that is. All these women treated us with respect unless we played up or did something bad. The trouble was that if you were hauled up in front of Miss Victoria she was so distressed by having to give you a telling off that she ended up in tears as often as not. You only had to go through that once to change your ways.

One of my favourite people was Miss French, who actually taught French. I'm sure it wasn't her real name, any more than Miss Blonde was Miss Blonde's real name, bit it was certainly easy to remember. Miss French wore the shortest skirts and had the highest heels you ever saw. Whatever top she had one was sure to have a plunging neckline that showed off a lace bra and/or camisole. She smoked cigarettes in a long cigarette holder and was to be seen leaning against the wall outside the staff room blowing smoke rings. She had long blonde hair and a gold bracelet with links the size of quarters. It was said that it was a gift from the President of France in thanks for her devotion to duty, although we weren't sure what her duties might have been. In any case, she was a stunner.

Miss French was a magnet for the older girls and seldom travelled across the campus without three or four of them following her. They tried to imitate her by hitching up their skirts and adopting her carefree poses, some even smoking, until Miss Victoria caught them. Miss French was quite a role model all right. She insisted on high standards of pronunciation and would not tolerate verbs conjugated incorrectly. If you offended her more than twice she would make you stay in class and write out verbs and explain the pluperfect indicative until you wanted to scream.

There was one thing we all loved her for, and that was her dedication to France. She would tell us stories about the French, about Paris and the history of what she always called the City of Lights. We heard about artists and writers and the Moulin Rouge, cancan dancers and apache dancers. She showed us pictures of art works by Toulouse-Lautrec and Van Gogh and the impressionists. She screened movies and cooked French food for us and each year she awarded a prize to one lucky pupil – a trip to Paris. You had to be over sixteen to win the prize and demonstrate fluidity in French that few could attain, but what a prize!

Miss Blonde and Miss French were seen together quite often and it was said they were once lovers, but if that was the case, what was Miss Blonde's relationship with Miss Victoria? We wondered constantly and made up stories all night.

My friends, when we gathered in the evening, would want to know if there was any news about any of the teachers. They also wanted to know why I was seeing Miss Blonde. I told them she was giving me a treatment for a back problem. They wanted to know what she wore in her own place, what colour her lipstick was and if I'd seen inside her bedroom. It was rumoured that her bedroom was a mass of red satin and silk, except for her sheets, which were black silk, dark and mysterious, like her. I had to tell them I hadn't seen inside her bedroom, but it wasn't long before I did.

I think it was on my tenth or twelfth visit that I got to see it. As usual she drew my breast tissue into cone shapes, gently persuading the flesh into a new form and I could now see a definite difference. A gentle swelling was starting to fill out my bra and Miss Blonde estimated that in another five or six weeks I would be close to filling it out more or less completely. That would take me to the time I was going on my summer vacation.

Today she talked some more about my dreams and since I started to remember them and write them down it seemed they were getting more detailed and vivid so that almost every night I would erupt into my nightwear. Miss Blonde recommended hat I wear panties made from a firm stretch satin to help keep me under control and I did from that night on, only slightly successfully. What they did do was keep me under control during the day when I thought about my dreams and became hard. I wore white satin panties under the regulation school white cotton briefs. After school hours we were allowed to wear whatever clothes we liked.

Miss Blonde excused herself after half an hour and left the room, telling me to wait where I was. She returned a few minutes later dressed in only a white satin garter belt, white stockings and high heeled white patent pumps. She held her arms up and said, "This is what a girl looks like when she grows up." Her pubic hair, the first thing I looked at, was trimmed into a neat little triangle pointing upwards. Her breasts were full and her aureolas were a rosy brown and her nipples small and pointing towards me. "By the time we've finished with you, your breasts will look like these, only slightly smaller. We can hide your penis until you decide what to do with it. Miss Victoria has asked me to show you what to do with it, Samantha. Do you want to try? I mean, you may have sex with me so you can experience it."

I was open-mouthed at both the sight of Miss Blonde's beautiful body and then her offer of sex. I couldn't decide what to do and then she came towards me, where I was still laying on her massage table with my top off. She reached under my kilt and touched my penis, which I admit had grown. She caressed it through both pairs of panties and said, "It isn't fair to force you to hide yourself for the rest of your life. It's one choice you have, to conceal your penis and later on you may prefer to have it dealt with, that is, removed, have hormone treatment and become a total girl. But the other choice, as I said once before, is to act like a girl, and later a lady, live life as the beautiful woman you are becoming, but still have adventures with women or men. You may find that you prefer men. At this school we produce well-rounded girls who understand all their possibilities, and because you are a special case it is even more important that you experience all the possibilities to assist you in your life choices. I think it would be wonderful to be a beautiful woman with a man's pleasure instrument and I would like you to continue as you are and wear the gold sheath you told me about and sell your panties to the highest bidder. What a wonderful dream!'

I felt myself getting harder and harder, much harder than I had ever been during the daytime, because Miss Blonde was still caressing me. I decided I had nothing to lose but my virginity and told her I would like to experience sex. She smiled and took my hand to help me off the table, then led me to her bedroom.

There was a lot of red and the sheets were black silk, but there was also white lace and dark wood and statues of naked women holding light bulbs in their hands. It was very sumptuous. Miss Blonde unhooked my skirt and it fell to my feet and I removed both panties myself to show a cock that was like a rock and pointing almost straight up. Miss Blonde lay back on the bed and spread her legs and told me to kneel between her legs. She parted her lips and told me to inset my penis between them. I did as I was told and I slid inside her. The feeling was so intense I ejaculated almost immediately and made to withdraw, but she said to lie there inside her and she would assist me to become hard again. I felt the muscles in her vagina move and caress me and sure enough I slowly became erect again.

"You see, Samantha, thirteen year old boys are very resilient and can do this many times over a short period. The frequency will reduce as you get older, but a good lover will see that you never lose the urge. I have had many lovers, Samantha, and thirteen year old boys always charm me with their youth and eagerness to please me. See how hard you are again. Use it to drive in and out of me slowly, going nearly all the way out and then going in as far as you can. You will find that very pleasurable and it's the natural way to make love. Remember that you should always say 'make love' or even 'have sex' but don't ever apply that appalling word 'fuck' to what we are doing here."

"Yes, Miss Blonde," I said. "This is very nice. I have the urge to speed up. Is that normal?"

"Very much so, Samantha. It indicates that your orgasm is near and your natural impulse is to enhance the intensity of your orgasm by increasing the friction on your glans." I took this as permission and raised my stroke rate so that in another thirty seconds I came again. After I subsided Miss Blonde showed me her anatomy in fine detail and I learned where her vulva, vagina and clitoris were to be found. She had me lick her clitoris until she climaxed and then she showed me how a penis could be licked and caressed with a tongue until the owner shot yet another load of come, this time into Miss Blonde's succulent mouth. She took my penis in her hand and showed me what the parts were called.

"I think that's enough for one day, Samantha," she said. "You've learned more in an hour than most boys learn in five years. Tomorrow I'll continue to shape your breasts, but if you want to ask questions, please do so. In the meantime, get dressed and let yourself out and I'll see you tomorrow at the usual time. Oh, and I've noticed your breasts are starting to grow. You're going to be so proud of them Samantha."

I let myself out and returned to my rooms to think about the day. Phew!!

  

  

  

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