The Mistress of Chatsford Manor

by

Donna Dee and Karen-Anne Summerfield

ฉ February 2004

Part I

The Beginning

 

For as long as I can remember strangers have approached my mother or elder sister when we were out together and declared, quite emphatically, that I was much too pretty to be a boy, even the teachers! Some even asked why mother dressed me in boy's clothes! My mother loved it; she had often wished I had been a girl, and I did too. Even as an eleven year old, I longed to wear some of my sister's gorgeous dresses. Looking at some old photographs I could see what they meant, my features were very feminine and my long curly brown hair was lovely. Since it was a time when boys wore their hair as long, if not longer than, girls, mother was happy to let it grow. She insisted I take care of it however, and brush it every night, tie it up while I slept and then brush it again in the and morning, tasks I performed willingly, anything to keep it looking good. As I walked to school each day in my uniform jacket and trousers, I loved the way it tickled my ears and bounced on my shoulders. I wasn't embarrassed by what was, after all, a truly feminine hairstyle, more so because I had to wear trousers. I wanted to be a girl so much it hurt. For some reason bullies didn't bother with me, but it was two or three years before I found out why.

My sister Alison, exactly two years my senior, liked me more as her 'sister' than her brother and frequently pretended I was. It was she who lengthened my name from Eric to Erica, who loved to dress my hair, to plait it and tie ribbons in it, even on the ends of the plaits. I didn't mind that either.

We lived opposite the park, which was very handy for walking our dogs, two German shepherd's named Shane and Susie. Alison and I spent many happy hours in the park with them where they could safely run about off their leads chasing sticks and balls to their hearts content. It was a lovely park with a boating lake in the centre.

Alison started at the grammar school in the September after her eleventh birthday, (our birthday was July sixteenth), where she renewed her friendship with a girl she had known at junior school named Madison Parke; Madison was a few months older than Ali. Rapidly the girls became inseparable and my mother was quite distressed because she believed Madison was not the kind of girl Ali should emulate. Why? Well, Madison was a leader not a follower and took no nonsense from anyone, including those who were several years older than her self. Mum suspected she was a bully, but they kept out of trouble and I was certain there was nothing for mother to worry about.

There was no doubt that Madison was a big influence on Alison but mum eventually accepted them being close, even allowing Alison to start using makeup when she was thirteen because Madison did. Shortly afterwards they got away with wearing it to school, a little at first then more, after which they were rarely seen without it.

Alison would never tell mum what they did together other than that they were making plans to start their own business when they left school. This was something no one took seriously. Although most of her time was spent with Madison, Alison still found time for me.

On the opposite side of the park to us were some old properties, dilapidated and unoccupied. I was nearly twelve when builders began to demolish these houses, and started to construct three large new blocks. Could they be flats or hotels we wondered? They were too big to be houses; maybe they were office blocks? Mother and I wouldn't have even noticed them being built except that Alison took an unusual amount of interest in the project.

Eventually we did find out that the buildings were for Madison's parents, but still not what they intended to do with them. Alison couldn't (or more likely wouldn't) say. In next to no time the buildings were finished, the windows glazed with very dark glass through which one couldn't see, from the outside - at any rate. A fast growing, very dense hawthorn hedge was planted on all sides with just the one wide opening, subsequently fitted with electronic gates. All Alison would say was that the Parke family would be living on the top floor of the front building.

Mother worked full time at a fashion store in town, and that included every Saturday (we had never known our father). Alison got even closer to Madison, and when she was fourteen she told us she'd got herself a Saturday job working for Madison's mother, "Just a couple of hours," she said. Mother would have been very upset had she known I was alone in the house from eight until five while she was at work, but Ali bribed me to keep quiet. How? Well, she would do my hair extra nicely, let me wear a dress and even put makeup on me, and for that she could have stopped out all night so far as I was concerned.

Alison loved her job; she lived for Saturdays to come round. We noticed her growing in confidence, that her dress sense was improving and even though she was using too much, (mum said), her makeup was perfect enough for a job in public relations. But most obvious of all, she seemed to be at least an inch taller and her bust noticeably bigger – two inches and two-cup sizes at least. Alison denied taking tablets and said her development was due to exercising regularly.

My sister spent all her spare time with Madison, weekends and evenings. They were never accused of bullying, though I knew most of the kids were scared of them. It was about this time I discovered that the reason the bullies left me alone was because Madison had told them to; it seemed that even the bigger boys lived in dread of her. "You have no need to worry," the head teacher told Mother when she expressed her concerns, but she did. Although Alison and I were closer than most siblings, she still refused to tell me what they really got up to when they were out together. All she would say was that it was great fun and that I could join in when I was fourteen if I managed to change into a girl. Well, if I failed to become a girl it wouldn't be for the want of trying, I was sure of that.

For the two years, Alison had spent every Saturday at her friend's new home, now known by the name on the gate as Madison's. It was great to wear girl's clothes on Saturdays, but frustrating that I couldn't go out in them. In spite of my pleas, mum said I had to wait another two years until I was sixteen before I could even see a doctor about my problem. Problem? What problem?

I well remember once when Alison let me put on one of her dresses, I had gazed at my reflection in her mirror and gone all gaga when she sat me down on the side of her bed to put stockings on my legs and a pair of her shoes with a small, but obvious heel on my feet. She had me stand while she fixed a heavy gold chain round my neck, a shorter one round my wrist and some clip-on earrings on my lobes. I didn't hesitate when she suggested we go down and show mother how pretty I looked; it felt wonderful and I stayed dressed until bedtime.

I was very surprised and absolutely delighted that mother seemed to like what she saw that day and tolerated what she called my fantasy. She explained why I couldn't be a girl, not a real girl anyway, but I didn't want to accept this and began to wear Alison's clothes whenever I got the chance. You see, Alison had said she knew several boys who dressed as girls all or most of the time and I wanted to do the same. I had no idea, of course, how she came to know that.

Every morning during term time, Alison and I took it in turns to get up early and walk the dogs. During the school holidays we'd leave a bit later and go together and, while we were getting ready to go out one Thursday morning, Alison suddenly said she was going to wear something a bit smarter for a change and suggested I do the same. I liked that idea. I sat on the side of her bed in a pretty blue nightdress at the time, (Mum had long since given up trying to get me to wear pyjamas) and asked, a trifle to eagerly perhaps, "Do you mean I can wear one of your dresses?"

"No I do not!" she shouted. "Mum would kill me if I let you outside in a dress and you know it. She moans at me enough for encouraging you indoors as it is."

She was right of course, but it seemed to me that Alison had gone a bit over the top that morning; what with her immaculate dress and makeup just to walk the dogs; I felt jealous and left out of things.

"All right, Erica," she relented as I started to sulk, "you can wear a pair of my jeans and one of my sweaters if you want, but that's as far as I'm going."

I was delighted, of course, I already had on a pair of her panties and I quickly grabbed the jeans on offer and started to struggle into them. Alison re-appeared at my side and handed me a pill with some water. "Here, take this," she commanded.

"What is it?"

"Something to stop you getting a hard on," she replied, "Now take it or get those jeans off now. If you start getting excited wearing jeans as tight as those are, every one will know they're mine."

I didn't know where the pill had come from or how she knew what it was for, but I took it. Just lately, Alison could be very dictatorial when she put her mind to it, just like her friend. The pill worked by the way.

She handed me the silk shirt I'd had last Christmas and one of her sweaters and pretended not to notice when I slipped my feet into a pair of her ankle socks and low heeled sandals. I felt fantastic and very excited, but not in the least apprehensive. She noticed me looking at her makeup on her vanity, sidled up to me and purred, "Don't even think about it, pet."

As we entered the park, I started to wonder why Alison had wanted to get dressed up today then, just as we approached the pond, Alison suddenly spotted Madison coming the other way and I just knew this had been pre-arranged.

"Oh," she said in a voice that seemed full of fear, "here comes Madison. Smile nicely and be polite to her, please Erica, no matter what she says to me or what she does? Please don't get up-tight?"

"Why," I asked, "have you two had words?" Alison always called me Erica, she knew I loved it, but for the life of me I couldn't understand why she thought I might be rude to her friend.

As Madison got nearer I could hardly believe someone so young could look so perfect, just like a pop star as she walked confidently towards us on heels that were at least five-inches high. She wore a micro skirt that wouldn't have covered her underwear had she been wearing more than a thong and her square necked blouse hardly covered the nipples on her very large bust. Her makeup was flawless, her long red nails perfect and the seams of her stockings ramrod straight. Madison was bigger than Alison, about six-feet tall in those heels. She was heavier too, a sort of young Jayne Mansfield with gorgeous blonde hair and a brightly painted smile.

The warmth of the smile Madison bestowed on Alison as my sister dipped in a curtsey to her, struck me as being somewhat unusual. I shook my head and fussed the dogs while the two girls chatted, wondering if I had really seen what I thought I'd had. Had my sister really curtseyed to her friend or had she stumbled? Did I just imagine it?

Madison turned and smiled, at me – a fourteen-year-old boy who was gazing in awe at a girl just the same age as my sister, a beauty I was already starting to think of as a goddess. For the first time ever, I was very self-conscious about my own appearance, I just went all funny inside.

It seemed to me she didn't know I even existed because she turned back to Alison and said, "I thought you said you had a brother, Alison, but this is your sister, surely? Why is she wearing trousers, is she pretending to be a boy?" Apparently Madison had a thing about girls in trousers or jeans.

But I didn't imagine it this time, Alison definitely bent her knee as she replied, "She is a boy, er, I mean he's not really a girl," she stammered.

Madison raised her eyebrows and stared at Alison purposefully, apparently waiting for her to continue.

My sister obviously understood what the look meant even if I didn't and said, "I'm sorry, Mistress, Eric isn't really a girl."

Her apology seemed to satisfy Madison who continued, "You mean this gorgeous creature really is a boy, that she's got a cock?" asked Madison, incredulously.

"Yes."

The smile vanished from Madison's face once more. "Yes what?" she snapped, staring at Alison angrily.

"Yes, Mistress," replied Alison, curtseying for the third time that morning.

The smile returned, "That only means she's in the wrong body," she mused, "no one that pretty could be a boy, but we can do something about that, can't we, Alison? Everything about him is feminine, don't tell me you hadn't noticed," she smiled – and she continued to smile at me in what I began to imagine was a loving manner.

"I can tell that you'd rather be a girl, you would, wouldn't you, - er, what did you say her name was?"

"Erica," said Alison.

"Yes I would," I said at the same time.

"I knew it. You're much too pretty to be a boy and so I am going to call you Erica just like Alison did just now. Would you like me to help you become a real girl, Erica?"

"Yes, I would," I replied without hesitating.

"Eric, you can't be a real girl, it isn't possible, and even if it was, mother would never allow it," said Alison.

"Alison," said Madison, sternly, "I thought you clearly understood that you are never to contradict or argue with me."

"Yes, Mistress, I do understand and I am very sorry." She performed yet another curtsey, this one much deeper, lowering her head as she did so.

"Not as sorry as you are going to be," Madison frowned. "That's thrice this morning," she mumbled, shaking her pretty head in disbelief. Suddenly Madison was all smiles again as she took the dogs' leads and passed them to my sister. "Walk these round the pond while I talk to your sister," she commanded.

Alison, who now seemed terrified, curtseyed deeply once again. "Yes Mistress," she replied meekly and set off at once to do Madison's bidding. I couldn't believe my eyes and ears.

What was happening here? I had seen my sister curtsey several times and I had heard her refer to Madison as her Mistress and she was obviously scared to death of her. Was this her special friend? Why was she scared of her? What the hell was going on?

Bending down, Madison kissed me softly on the lips – her lipstick tasted divine, I wished that I were wearing it. She took my hand in hers and smiled, "Come and sit here with me, Erica darling; we have things to discuss." As we moved towards a bench, Madison told me to remove my, or rather Alison's sweater and to place it on the seat. She promptly sat on it and patted the wooden slats by her side to indicate I should join her. I thought she had a bloody cheek, but I couldn't be cross with her. She took my hand in between her two; I was captivated by the length and colour of her nails as she put her face close to mine causing me to inhale her heavenly perfume.

"Madison," I began to speak, but she quickly placed her index finger across my lips and gently shook her head.

"Erica, you can no longer call me Madison. If you are to be my trainee then that makes me your Mistress and you must always refer to me as such. You must also obey me, implicitly, whatever I tell you to do – is that clear?

I was made of sterner stuff than my sister – at least I thought I was. "You are not my mistress, you are…" I stopped as she delivered a stinging slap across my left cheek. It brought a tear to my eye and I started to object, upon which her left hand connected even harder with my right cheek.

"I would quit while you're ahead if I were you," she smiled. "A few minutes ago, in the presence of your sister, you clearly said you wanted me to help you become a real girl, to train you, did you not?"

I admitted this was so.

"I never allow my trainees to quit, Erica, never. At that moment you became my trainee, and even though you haven't taken the oath, I became your mistress – and your mistress I will stay, forever. I will guide you into full femininity, both in your body and in your mind because I think you are exceptionally attractive. From now on you must do what I tell you or you will be punished, severely if necessary, as are all my other trainees when they displease me. Your sister has already incurred my displeasure this morning and for that she will be punished later.

"When she returns you will both come to my home where I will punish Alison for her misdemeanours and demonstrate to you the kind of punishment you can expect if you fail to obey every instruction you are given in the future; is that clear?"

"Yes," I replied a second or two before another stinging slap connected with my cheek. She lowered her chin yet raised a questioning eyebrow at the same time as if asking me what it was I should have said.

"Yes, Mistress." I said.

"That's better, Erica. Get used to it, darling, it will be easier in the long run. Now for the time being, until we get you properly dressed, you will bow your head to me in lieu of a curtsey whenever such is appropriate, but as soon as we get you kitted out properly on Saturday, you too will accord me a proper curtsey as a mark of respect whenever I speak to you, do you understand me, Erica?

Did she say Saturday? I was going to be a girl from Saturday? The two or three-second pause that occurred while I digested this and contemplated my reply earned me a fourth slap – each one was getting harder than the previous, or was it just that my face was getting sore? Quickly I said, "Yes, Mistress," and sat there wondering just what the hell I had got myself into.

Just as quickly, Madison was all smiles again as Alison returned, my sister stood in front of us and bobbed yet another curtsey.

"Alison, Erica has joined us as a trainee and is therefore subject to the same rules of discipline as you. Explain them to her and see that she fully understands, will you?"

"Yes, Mistress," said Alison

"Stand up and face me, Erica," she commanded abruptly. She also stood up and smiled once more. Picking up Alison's sweater from the bench, she tossed it to me and said, "Put this back on, dear, it's chilly this morning. Now then, take the dogs back home and then come straight to my house. I will expect you in exactly twenty minutes," she said as she consulted her wristwatch.

Alison curtseyed and I bowed my head as we both replied, "Yes, Mistress." We immediately turned and headed for home.

"Come on Erica, hurry up, you will only make it worse if we are late."

"What do you mean? She can't do this to us, can she?"

"She can and she will. You may wish to defy her, I don't," replied my sister as we pushed the dogs in through the back door, re-locked it and hurried to Madison's home. "If her mother is there, Erica, treat her with the same respect or you'll be sorry."

"Why do you let her do this to you, Alison?"

"I do not have a choice, and neither do you anymore; I'll explain properly later on."

On arrival we rang her doorbell; I was surprised to see a uniformed maid open the door. On the wall behind a reception desk was a notice that said,

THE MADISON PARKE SCHOOL OF DISCIPLINE

The maid was about fifty or sixty and was obviously wearing a wig. Her heavy makeup was gross. "Good afternoon," said my sister, "Alison and Erica Alexander to see Mistress Madison; we are expected."

The maid looked at her watch; "Only just in time," she sneered in a low, masculine voice, "come this way."

I realised that Madison must have noted the precise time we were due to arrive and notified the maid accordingly.

The maid, who was wearing almost flat, court shoes and whose dreadful legs had varicose veins running from top to bottom, led us along a passage towards the rear of the house and down a flight of stairs to a room labelled, 'DISCIPLINE CENTRE'. She ushered us into what looked like a dungeon. "They were in time, Mistress," said the maid, curtseying awkwardly.

"So I should hope. Right then, Alison, you know what you're here for, so you first; panties off then assume the position." To her credit, Alison didn't hesitate for a second. I watched aghast, as she removed her panties and stood within what looked like a metal doorframe made of scaffold poles, a cross bar supported by two uprights. Madison raised Alison's skirt and, using a clothes peg, clipped it up onto her blouse at the front and back. Alison then raised her hands to grasp the bar above her head and swing her legs up and apart, placing them on two struts, one on either side of the four-foot wide contraption. Madison nodded her approval and selected a five-foot long bamboo cane before positioning herself behind my sister.

"Now then, Erica, watch what is going happen to Alison and try to ensure it doesn't happen to you." With that she viciously applied the cane twice to the inside of Alison's left thigh then twice more across the backs of her legs making certain she caught both her thighs with each stroke. She walked slowly around to the front and applied two more hard strokes to the inside of Alison's right thigh. With each stroke, an ugly double red welt formed and started to rise. Tears were flowing from my sister's eyes, but she didn't shout out. I made to protest, but Alison shook her head, trying to tell me not to be silly, that I'd only make it worse for myself and for her.

She stayed where she was until she was told to get down, replace her panties and adjust her clothing, after which she performed a deep curtsey and said, "Thank you, Mistress, for being lenient. I will never contradict you again."

"I am pleased to hear that, Alison; sit there and wait for Erica."

The red welts I had seen rising had already started to turn purple on Alison's legs before her panties and skirt covered them and she winced visibly as she took her seat on the hard wooden bench.

"Right then, Erica, you earned four slaps this morning for minor offences that, individually, did not merit a caning; put them together, however, and it becomes a more serious matter. Please confirm that you now accept me as your mistress?"

"Yes, Mistress, I do."

"Will you obey my every command – implicitly and immediately?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"See that you do. Every second's delay in doing as you are told will earn you a caning – I might even make her do it," she smirked indicating my sister "I expect she will tell you how much that hurt when you are on your way home. Step forward, Erica, pull down your jeans and pants and bend over that chair."

I was terrified, but I did as I was told. "You were too slow, but I will overlook that on this one occasion only. I shall demonstrate the pain that can be caused by the cane, the crop, a whip and a quirt, one stroke each, then I shall give you two strokes with the crop because of your indiscretions in the park earlier. When I have finished you will adjust your clothing, thank me for the demonstration and read the words on the card I will hand you."

I truly do not know which hurt the most as the four quite different blows struck home. She told me that I was lucky that the quirt she used was not loaded – but I didn't understand what she meant. She then picked up the crop again and whacked me hard on my arse, twice. I was crying hard, as I struggled to read from the card. I was about to begin when Alison called out, "Don't forget to thank Mistress Madison for the demonstration, Erica."

"Thank you, mistress, for demonstrating how much those things hurt."

I began to read.

"I, Erica Alexander, accept you, Madison, as my mistress for now and for all time. I will obey your every wish without question or dissent and I promise never to complain. I will serve your every need. I am yours to command. Do with me as you will."

I replaced the card and stood there trembling, the tears running freely down my cheeks.

"Come to me, Erica." I ran to her open arms where she hugged me to her soft warm bosom and kissed me softly on the lips. "See that you keep your promise, Erica, and understand that although I will never give you your freedom, I have plans for you that you will love. I can and I will turn you into a real girl and that's a promise. I am sure that we shall get on well together and that you will enjoy the life I have in mind for you."

Turning to Alison she said, "I see no reason why your sister cannot start her training on Saturday, provided you have something suitable for her to wear. Take her home now and care for her bruises. See that she obeys all my orders for her preparation and ascent into femininity; you already know what I expect. From now on and until the course starts you are to regard yourself as her personal tutor."

Alison curtseyed yet again and as we left the room Madison called to her. "Alison, you may start to wear your new uniform on Saturday. From then on you will be known as Mistress Alison. I will make the announcements on Saturday."

My sister all but fell on her knees to kiss the Mistress's feet; "Oh, Mistress, thank you, thank you so very much."

At the top of the stairs, she first of all led me into a toilet with, 'Ladies', on the door. "It's all right, Erica, you're practically one of us now, in here at least." We both used the toilet then, standing at the vanity, Alison used the powder and lipstick there to erase the marks of her tears.

"Come on, my love," she smiled as she took me home.

In her room, Alison produced a jar of cream that we rubbed gently into each other's very painful bottoms. It was very soothing, her welts went down quickly though the marks remained and the soreness in my bottom vanished, but not the deep pain. I asked Alison what this cream was and she said it was something the doctor had given her to make her bum better after a caning.

"Have you been caned before then, Ali?"

"Yes, of course I have, dozens of times."

"By Madison?"

"Yes, of course."

"Will I get caned if I do things wrong?"

"Of course you will."

"I don't think I like this idea any more."

Alison gave a deep sigh. "Too late, you've done it now, Erica. You have taken the oath and you will be bound by it. Don't even think about trying to get out of it, because if you even try, you will suffer far more than you have today. On the other hand don't despair either – I know you really want to be a girl and Madison will take you closer to femininity than anyone else ever could. She can do it, Erica, really she can. I cannot truthfully say that I am sorry I got you into this today, not really, because now you really can be the girl of your dreams, but I didn't mean to push you this far quite so quickly. Madison made me do it."

"How?"

"I showed her your picture and told her of your love of dressing up. I even told her that you wanted to be a real girl and she offered to help. Madison ordered me to take you to the park this morning because she wanted to meet you and I do not disobey Madison, no one does. I had no idea she would turn you into one of her slaves straight away.

"One of her slaves?"

"Well, no, not really. One of the Saturday girls said it felt like we were her slaves and the name stuck. Officially, we are management trainees, though I have just been promoted to her chief assistant as you heard. Promise me that no matter what she tells you to do you will do it or you will suffer the consequences. Once you have completed your training you will be able to work for Madison, you will have to, actually. The upside is that discipline aside, the jobs are very well paid, and I can assure you of that."

"Were you Madison's slave? I thought you were her friend, her special friend."

"Well yes, of course I was, I still am. When we were at school, earlier on I mean it was Mrs. Parke that owned the business. Madison had been helping her since she was ten, would you believe? She and I worked out a plan to expand the business, her mother loved the idea and when she was fourteen, Madison took over the firm and has run it ever since, as well as going to school."

"What sort of a business is it that uses slaves?"

"You know perfectly well I am not allowed to tell you, don't you?"

"Well if I am going to be a trainee from Saturday I will find out anyway, won't I?"

"Yes, I suppose that's true, but come Saturday you must pretend you know nothing, all right?"

"Yes, of course; I promise."

"Madison runs a house of correction, part of it is commercial, wives who want their husbands to be their sissy slaves, and part of it is for the Crown Court. The court sends wayward teenagers, muggers and burglars, you know, to Madison to be disciplined and turned into decent people again." She trains them, teaches them to behave and either sends them back to their owners or sells them on to cover expenses."

"She sells them, what as and who to?"

"Initially they do become slaves, some are sent abroad and some we sell."

"You sell them? How much for?"

"A well trained slave can fetch a great deal of money even in this country – more overseas."

"Who in this country uses slaves?"

"Oh, Erica, you are so sweet and so very naive. Hundreds of people keep slaves! They don't call them that, some are butlers or gardeners, some are maids, but they are all people without a hope of standing on their own two feet, so they are slaves in a sense, aren't they? Hundreds of businesses use slaves – cheap labour some people call it; illegal immigrants, criminals, reformed or otherwise, drug addicts, youths without homes, those that are convicted of hooliganism – and some that are not. They have had their chance in life and spurned it, so they are turned into slaves until they can be released back into society. Most of these layabouts are rounded up by the police or by the courts and sent to firms such as Madison's for corrective training

"Is that what you do when you are there, train slaves I mean?"

"It will be from next week, that is to say I will be a part of the team. I have been in training for the last two years just as you will be, except that I have been helping out on a casual basis, more on the commercial side practicing my skills, so to speak"

"Doing what?"

"I've been doing the job I've been trained to do – a domme."

"What is a domme?"

"Oh Erica, don't you know anything?"

"No, I don't know what a domme is and neither did you until someone told you," I snapped back angrily.

"True, but let me give you a piece of advice." She held up a perfectly manicured index finger. "Don't ever speak to Madison in that tone of voice," she continued, "or she'll hang you up overnight and eat you for breakfast. Or me either from Saturday," Alison added ominously.

I nearly peed my panties – or perhaps I should say Alison's panties. "Please, Alison, tell me what goes on there," I begged.

Suddenly my lovely sister smiled brightly; "Oh, Erica, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Let's go and make a nice cup of tea and I'll tell you what little I can."

 

Ten minutes later we were seated side by side on the settee in the lounge, sipping our tea from rather unladylike mugs. I listened intently as Alison began.

"It started at the grammar school of course. Madison and I sat side by side and quickly became special friends. I had known her at junior school, but I had no idea she was working part time for her mother or what her mother did for a living, I know mum didn't always believe me, but it was true. During the summer holiday before our second year, she showed me the site where their new home was to be built and explained everything, swearing me to secrecy. You know now that I always obey Madison, don't you? She told me about the slaves, the commercial clients, the 'mistress training scheme, the masochists, the farms and the salt mines.

"Salt mines?

"Forget I said that please, Erica? I mean that."

"So what exactly have you been doing these past two years, Alison?"

"Well, all her staff start as Saturday girls, I was treated the same as the others in spite of my close ties with her. First of all, I was trained in deportment, dress and to do my makeup properly, everyone does that. After a year, two of us were chosen to be full management trainees, the others were made trainers – physical trainers who see to it that the slaves work hard to get fit; fitness is absolutely vital."

"Why?"

"Because a lot of them will end up as ponygirls."

"What's a ponygirl?"

"You don't want to know, Erica, believe me

"What happens to the boys?"

"Don't ever repeat this Erica – I mean it. They are turned into girls and then ponygirls."

"Madison turns boys into girls – is that what she will do to me?"

"Yes and no, the ponygirls only look like girls, you will be a real girl."

"Good grief – what happens next?"

"They go to the stables to be trained even more vigorously. It can be very hard work being a ponygirl."

"And then?"

"And then nothing, they are ponygirls until they die, sold all over the world."

"You make them work like ponies, for ever?"

"That's right. They live like ponies, wear a bridle and harness, feed like ponies, pull heavy carts or passenger traps, some even work underground in the salt mines. Those who are not strong enough become trainers or stable maids, but all of them feel the whip quite regularly if they don't perform."

"And you train them? Whip them?

Alison giggled. "Yes, but not with the ponygirls. I shall be working with the slaves before they get sent to the stables.

"So what is a domme then?

"A professional dominatrix."

"What does that entail?"

"I train the slaves to behave, to do as they're told.

"I keep forgetting that you know nothing of all this. Perhaps I should start at the very beginning when I first got to know her at school. There was something about her that commanded respect and I had this burning desire to be with her. After a year or so, she told me how her mother made her money – they were obviously very wealthy. She told me that she and her mother were dommes and that there are hundreds of people, mostly male, who enjoy being dominated by a strong woman – husbands who wear women's clothes, with their wife's permission, and adore being forced to wear maid's uniforms, or being chained up and punished. There are hundreds of masochists too that come from all over the country – people who will happily pay good money just to be whipped by a young girl. It's true," she insisted when she saw the disbelief on my face.

"Yet again, there are hundreds of women who wish to dominate their husbands, to treat them as their slaves, but they don't know how to go about it. A domme carries out the training and turns a man into a simpering wimp, charges them a small fortune and then sends them back to a life of service. The mistresses have to be trained as well, naturally."

"And they pay you for this?"

"Too right they do."

"What happens?"

"Everyone is different and that is why we keep full documentation of every client. Oh yes, and documentation is important, you never know when a former client can come in useful. But back to what I was saying, those who are to be dominated are given some very difficult tasks that they will find almost impossible to complete and then they are whipped as punishment when they fail."

"That seems unfair."

"Of course it's unfair, but it is very important that they get used to being whipped, because that's all they have to look forward to for the rest of their lives. In the early stages yes, it is an excuse to punish them. Gradually the tasks get a little easier and the poor dears think they are getting better. We then send for the wives and for their benefit, we put their husbands through their paces; humiliate them; make them crawl. Once the wives are satisfied, they too are trained in how to control them effectively. I could hardly believe the changes Madison and her mother made in some of them. Madison had been working her socks off trying to fit them all in and I offered to help, she showed me how to cane and whip and was glad to pass some over to me to do after school or on Saturdays. A proper whipping can take a couple of hours if you want it to. That was when we came up with the plan for the school. From next week I will be doing it full time."

"And do you like doing this?"

"I love it, Erica. I love using the whip and don't ever imagine that I won't punish you if you deserve it, because I will. If Madison says you are to get sixteen lashes and tells me to do it you'll feel every one. I'd be in trouble if I didn't do it properly, you saw what happened to me this afternoon."

"How did all this start?"

"With her mother, a long time ago of course. Her husband, Madison's father, is a right wimp – he was the maid that let us in this afternoon in case you didn't realise.

"He never was! I figured she was a bloke, but not her Dad."

"It's true, believe me its true. Mrs. Parke decided to turn him into her maid just after Madison was born; he didn't want to do it of course, but she gave him no choice. When several of her friends wanted to do the same, but didn't have the bottle to whip their men effectively, she did it for them and achieved total success. She decided to train Madison when she was about eight, taught her to use the cane and the whip and the business just grew. They're multi-millionaires now, even though she's not as good with the whip as I am."

"So what about the younger girls, or are they all transsexuals?"

"Not at all. Some are sent here by their dominant mothers to be trained for a variety of menial tasks, to be servants in their own homes."

"She said she'd never release me."

"And she meant it, she won't ever release me either, but then I don't want her to and neither will you

"She promised to turn me into a real girl, can she do that, Alison?"

"Yes, she can. You probably won't be able to have babies, but you will have a woman's body, breasts through hormones and implants, even a fanny. I think you'll be pleased with the results. Now then, that's enough for now, Mum will be home soon and we need to get the meal ready. Rub some more cream on my bum and then I must put some trousers on, can't have her seeing these welts, can I? Then we must sort you out a dress to wear on Saturday. Come back to my room and let me put a little something on your eyes to take the redness out." I was happy enough for her to do that.

*****

Thursday is late night shopping where Mum works and, whilst she is supposed to finish at five, she has to stay until the part timers get there. She got home shortly after six to find that Alison had opened a bottle of wine, knowing she'd be knackered. My sister had sent out for two pizzas that were in the oven keeping hot. A flask of soup was ready too. We sat down to eat and began to talk.

Mum was in a good mood. She noticed I was still wearing my sister's jeans and sweater, and simply shook her head despairingly and tutted until, looking closely, she saw the makeup on my eyes. She didn't moan at me, but told Alison she shouldn't have done it, knowing I couldn't have put on eyeliner and mascara so neatly by myself.

"Oh, mum," replied my sister, "I was wearing more makeup than that when I was thirteen, a hell of a lot more."

"Yes, I know you were, Alison, but you are a girl, in case you'd forgotten."

"I am going to be a girl soon," I pouted.

"That remains to be seen young lady, er I mean young man."

I was winning, I thought, I'd even got Mum going then, for a bit. "It will happen, Mum, Madison is going to help me," I said eagerly. I could have cut my tongue out when I realised what I'd said.

Mother visibly bristled with anger. "Really? And who's decision was this, pray?"

Alison was still glaring daggers in my direction because I'd opened my big mouth and popped my foot straight in it as usual.

"Well come on?" snapped mother, "I'm waiting. One of you say something even if it's only goodnight."

My sister and I stood up as one and said, "Goodnight, Mum," and headed for the door.

"Oh no you don't. I'd like an explanation please? Alison, Madison is your friend, so you may begin."

Alison sat on the chair with her legs apart looking down at her feet, her hands clasped tightly between her knees.

"I am waiting," said our mother.

Alison raised her head and looked at mother sorrowfully. "Gee, Mum, it wasn't planned or anything, it just happened. We took the dogs out and happened to meet Madison in the park. She said what many others have already, that Erica was far too pretty to be a boy and suggested he do something about it."

"Were you dressed like that?" mother enquired of me."

"Yes," I replied quickly, again without thinking. Seeing Alison give me another dirty look I added, "But I wasn't wearing any makeup."

"I should bloody well hope not."

Turning back to my sister she continued, "And since you never go out wearing trousers, Alison, it is my guess that you would have been dressed up rather nicely as well?" Not waiting for a reply she added, "And if you both went out dressed up, my second guess is that you were expecting to meet your mistress."

"Why did you call her my mistress?" asked Alison, edgily. That word had never been used in the house before.

"Well, you seem to do everything she tells you to so I think it's a fair assumption, don't you? Does this by any chance have anything to do with the fact that you will be sixteen next week? Are you still intending to work for her?"

"Possibly, no and yes in that order," replied Ali.

"Don't be obtuse with me, Alison, answer me properly if you please."

Alison stood up and walked slowly towards the window where she drew the curtains to shut out the evening gloom. At the fireplace, selected two cigarettes from the packet on the mantelpiece, passed one to mother and lit them both. Sitting back on the chair, she drew heavily on her cigarette and inhaled deeply.

"I'm sorry if you think that I'm being awkward, Mum," she answered placatingly. "I had told Madison that my brother wanted to be a girl and she did ask to meet him. She knows a doctor who specialises in transgenderisation and, if Erica wants her to, she was willing to introduce them, that's all."

"That would cost a fortune, and you know it. We can't afford to spend that kind of money on her, er, on his fantasy."

I poked my two pennyworths in again, "She said she'd arrange it for free if I'll work for her when I'm sixteen," I said.

"Doing what?"

"I don't know exactly, we didn't discuss that."

"Perhaps you will have to be a prostitute – a she-male prostitute."

"Don't be ridiculous, mother," said Alison, crossly. "Madison isn't into that kind of business."

"Is she not? Then perhaps you wouldn't mind telling me just what kind of business she is into and precisely what it is that you will be doing from next week. At once please, don't prevaricate."

"Do you have any idea at all what Mrs. Parke and Madison do for a living?"

Mother said she didn't so Alison continued, "Years ago I made Madison a promise that I would never tell anyone about their business and I will be in deep trouble if they find out I have told you anything at all. Please promise me you will never repeat what I am going to say to anyone at all?"

Mother thought for a minute before she agreed.

"You said it might be something illegal. In that case, you will be surprised to learn that one of their biggest clients is the local authority, the police and the government, no less."

My eyes and mother's opened wider; Alison had mentioned that the police sent them some disruptive youngsters to be disciplined and trained, but to say they were major customers was stretching things a bit. (Or was it?) I kept quiet this time; I was on my sister's side after all.

"Go on, Alison, I'm listening."

"I really would rather not say any more until I get Madison's permission, but you must believe me, it is not sexual or illegal, neither is it narcotics of any kind."

Mother made a funny noise in her throat, 'harrumph', or something sounding like that. "Does she employ many people, this doctor for instance?"

"That I don't know; I imagine the doctor might be on a retainer"

"That would seem logical. If you are working full time from next week, is she going to pay you a decent wage?"

"Yes, of course she is."

"How much?"

"I don't know exactly."

"Will it be on a par with what she's been paying you for the work you do on Saturdays?"

Alison angrily crushed the stub of her cigarette in the ashtray then stood up and immediately lit another. "How do you know how much she pays me?"

"I opened your bank statement by mistake the other week." She continued to look for a proper answer.

"Am I not entitled to any privacy in this house?" Alison almost shouted,

"Temper, temper. I said I did it accidentally, didn't I?"

"I expect I shall be paid for what I do; some jobs obviously earn more than others."

"That explains the weekly variations, but do you realise that even on a bad day you get more for a Saturday than I get for a week?"

"Then you obviously had a good look at my statement before putting it back in the envelope. Perhaps you should come and work for me, I mean for Madison."

"Doing what?" said mother, quickly, hoping to catch her out.

"Spying?" asked Alison, sarcastically.

Mother got to her feet and glowered down at my sister. She thought for a second or two then smacked Alison across her face. Alison didn't flinch; it had been a token slap rather than a hard one and Alison had obviously had much worse punishment from her mistress. Without batting an eyelid and with contempt in her eyes, Alison drew firmly on her cigarette once more, inhaled and then, looking mother straight in the eye, blew the smoke straight into her face. She then stubbed it out and strode off to her bedroom, slamming the hall door as she went.

Mother let her go, but tears were rolling down her cheeks as she watched Alison disappear. They had never had a serious argument before.

I gave mother a cuddle and said to her that Alison hadn't meant it, that she'd had a bad day. I guessed it would have something to do with her nerves and the new job she was starting on Saturday.

"How do you know, Eric?"

I was conscious of the fact that her legs might still be hurting, but I daren't mention this of course. "I don't know, I'm just guessing, in any case she will have to tell you that herself, I'm not going to get involved, but please Mum, please don't stop me from being a girl?"

"Go to bed, Erica, I mean Eric. We'll sort something out."

*****

Next morning, mum went to work before either of us was up. I tapped on Alison's door and walked into a smoky haze. Ali was propped up in bed by the pillows, ashtray on her tummy, cigarettes and a lighter by her side, inhaling deeply and exhaling languidly. Either Alison hadn't removed her makeup or she had already re-applied it; she had certainly dressed her hair nicely. "She gone?" she asked, abruptly.

"Yes, of course she has. Didn't you get up and apologise?

"No, I bloody well didn't. I have nothing to say sorry about. There is only one person that tells me what to do and that's Madison and I'd be in deep trouble if I told mother anything. You saw for yourself how strict Madison could be, even with me."

"So, are you going to let this row linger on then?"

"Only until she apologises."

"Do you think she will, because I don't?"

"She can please herself, I couldn't give a damn. I'm moving out tomorrow anyway."

"You can talk like that after all she's done for us?"

"Tell me, Erica, just what has she done for us?"

"Well we've got a decent home, it's warm and there's good food on the table. She is a one-parent family remember."

"Whose fault is that?"

"She works hard for us, and she doesn't spend much on herself, does she?"

"Didn't you hear her say I earned more on a Saturday morning than she does in a week? Do you call what she does working hard?"

"Mum is really worried about what you have to do to earn that much."

"Oh, so she's told you how much I get too, has she?"

"No, of course she didn't. You can't leave it like this, so just what are you going to do, Alison?"

"What am I going to do? Nothing, that's what. We can both go to live with Madison of course, there's plenty of room there."

"I'm not leaving home."

"You no longer want to be a girl then?

"Well yes, of course I do, what's that got to do with it?"

"Well, mum can't afford it, can she? Neither can you if you don't come and work for Madison."

There was a lengthy period of silence during which Alison lit yet another cigarette. "Now then, Erica, don't be silly. You want to be a girl and Madison will make that dream come true. Go fix my breakfast then we will take the dogs out and get ready to go shopping, OK?"

"What are we shopping for?"

"Well, Madison said you had to have a dress for Saturday morning, didn't she?

"And we are going to buy me one?

"Correct."

"Does that mean I have to borrow one of yours to go shopping in?"

"Well, it would look a bit odd for a boy to be trying dresses on in Rumbolds, wouldn't it?"

"Oh Ali, I love you so much, what do you want to eat?" Alison knew exactly how to get me on her side every time.

*****

After breakfast, I was told that what I needed was already in my room. There on my bed I found panties, a lightly padded bra, a slip, a garter belt and some nylons. There was also a pair of her sandals with a two-inch heel, all of which I quickly put on. Alison arrived with a pretty little pink dress, mid thigh length and a fairly high neck that I adored on sight. I put on the necklace she had given me the day before. Returning to her room, I was told to sit while she put just a little makeup on my face, mascara and shadow on my eyes and, although it was only pink, she put much more lipstick than I dared to hope for on my mouth. Two squirts of her favourite perfume completed the task. I felt fabulous and believed I looked great, Alison said I did, anyway.

It is a fact that, as brother and sister, Alison and I were not immediately recognisable as such. Though two years her junior, I was already as tall, without heels that is, and while her hair was naturally black, mine was a very light brown. That morning, dressed alike and both nicely made up as sisters, we made a striking pair.

Keeping well clear of the shop in which mother worked, we shopped for everything I might need and Alison paid for the lot. Fully loaded with carrier bags filled with lingerie and three dresses, (all of which I had happily tried on), and another containing three pairs of new shoes with heels of varying heights, two exhausted teenagers struggled back home for a late lunch. Not wishing to aggravate the situation, I reluctantly took off the makeup and changed back into my own clothes.

When mum came home from work, Alison played it as if nothing had gone wrong in their relationship, but eventually told her she intended to move in with Madison next day. Both shed tears, and both eventually agreed it was for the best.

"What are you going to do, Erica?" Alison asked.

"I am staying here with mother," I replied positively.

"But you will come to Madison's every Saturday as arranged, won't you my love?"

I looked at mother and smiled. "I am sorry mum, I know you don't want me to do this, but I must. For one thing I gave my word that I would and you know how much I want to be a girl, so I don't really have a choice, especially since Madison will get me fixed up for free."

"When is this to happen?" asked my mum.

"The actual changes won't happen until she is sixteen though I expect she will be given hormone therapy to establish a base for whatever surgery may be necessary. I don't really know, Mum, I'm just guessing," answered Alison.

"You won't cut me off completely, will you Alison," asked mother, "just because of one silly argument?"

"No, of course not," smiled Alison.

As we went upstairs leaving mum to lock up, I was ordered to follow my sister into her room. She laid the law down firmly in that from the next day, she would officially be my mistress, not my sister, even when we were alone in her room. I was told never to visit her uninvited and not to mention our relationship to anyone. Alison also reminded me, that if I misbehaved, I would be punished just as the others were. I was told to see to the dogs early, what to wear for the short walk across the park and what time to be ready. In spite of the sinister undertones, or maybe because of them, my new life seemed to be getting more exciting by the minute. I could hardly wait and I admit to sleeping rather badly that night.

 

Saturday dawned bright and clear, I was up even earlier than I needed to be, took Susie and Shane across to the park and then right around the pond. Back home, I had a quick shower, put on a new set of underwear that we'd bought while shopping the previous day and the dark green mini dress. Alison had decreed that I use the barest minimum of makeup because this would be a part of my first lesson.

I gasped for air as Ali came out of her room half an hour later. Dressed from her neck to her toes in black and wearing five-inch heels she looked formidable – that really is the only word for it. Her hair was styled into a severe bun and her make up was, quite honestly, excessive, the only splash of colour being her usual extremely bright red lipstick applied even heavier than normal. Her outfit appeared to have no buttons or zips, obviously it had but they were well hidden. The whole outfit was made of a Lurex^ฎ kind of material that clung to every contour of her body, stretched with her movements and exaggerated the size of her bust. Over her left breast was embroidered her name, 'Mistress Alison'. She wore a wide black leather belt from which hung a coiled whip. Ali was obviously extremely proud of the way she looked and I made the appropriate comments, but I didn't like it one little bit. The woman standing before me didn't look a bit like my lovely sister.

  

  

  

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