Fairyfield Grange

by Jason Argo

 

part 12

 

The old bridle path through the spinney was deserted except for butterflies dancing amid the lilac. It was another hot day in July and everyone longed to see cinerous clouds roll in over the crest of the implacable limestone moors, but no relief was predicted yet.

Lack of rain could be a disaster when weather was usually the opening topic for strangers pressed into conversation, and while its absence could also be a colloquy, no rain for more than two weeks in Yorkshire resulted in a draught of biblical proportions.

For the past three months there had been none at all.

Gloria had dropped Jennifer and Poppy off on the road as she'd dashed off to buy butter for the headmistress's tea, leaving them with a short walk to the back door of Monica Braithwait's home.

At least the sun was in retreat for that day as Jennifer dragged Poppy along quickly at her side, and a walk in the shade of the elms didn't seem onerous.

Better than going through the town thought Jennifer. Discretion was what she sought and she knew men would too easily notice Poppy's tiny, pleated skirt, while his body, especially his bare legs would make his passing very memorable. She also knew Poppy loved being a boy who looked like a beautiful girl and he could be tempted to playact to a gallery of drooling males. It was always a risk to taking pupils into the village. The young sissies of Fairyfield were feminine masterpieces and whether men knew the truth about them or not she didn't doubt cock's rose up hot, stiff and throbbing all over town when they were about. Did girlyboys exude some kind of pheromone! They did something, because men were drawn to them before knowing their panties were full of willy, but weren't inclined to leave once they'd found out.

Anyway, the woodland walk had a twofold purpose that day. Besides taking her to see Monica it gave her an opportunity to practise a little thing she'd been musing on for ages. She'd developed a fascination for the idea of leading sissies around by collar and lead, a thing her mother disapproved of either at school or in public, but which in a little used leafy byway she could practise to her hearts content.

She paused Poppy and made him stand still whilst she fastened a dog-collar about his slender neck, a lovely strip of black leather with a stainless-steel buckle. She knew there would be no trouble from him. The girl-boy was a limp-wristed bimbo who's mild temperament allowed him to accept most things with ease, and she just adored the deer-in-the-headlights look in his eyes whenever she scolded him.

Poppy didn't object. He was more preoccupied with a waking dream he'd had that morning than with Jennifer's current passion. The dream had put him back in the time of ancient Greece and he was among a cargo of slave boys who's ship had been wrecked on an island ruled by an Amazon queen. It was an odd dream, because the queen looked like Miss Hancock and all the younger Amazons looked like Jennifer, and all the men on the island were dominated by them. None of the women wore many clothes, but they all wore a great big cock-thing between their legs all the time, and they stripped-off all the slave-boys and made them walk up and down in front of them, admiring their beauty while vying with each other about who would own them. Someone had once told him that dreams could mean things. What could a dream like that mean?

Jennifer clipped a dog leash to the D-ring on the dog collar and yanked Poppy into motion.

Steeply below them lay the decimated ruins of an old Saxon church, and just a little further on snoozed Peasmarsh, a random clutter of grey stone houses linked together by sinuous narrow thoroughfares. Normally little more than ten minutes would have seen them at Monica Braithwait's house, but Jennifer had not foreseen meeting Greg Touter. He appeared on the twisting path in front of them pushing a wheelbarrow. A youth, tall and long-legged, wearing patched and faded jeans tucked into rubber boots, and a frayed and baggy sweatshirt. "Fuck!" exclaimed Jennifer in irritation as she hurried to remove Poppy's collar. She wasn't going to let a bumpkin like Greg Touter share in any of her private perversions.

"Hi!" Greg called out. His dark brooding eyes regarded them curiously as he drew nearer.

Greg was a grinning oaf from the village, and an odd-job labourer who reckoned himself a bit of a jack-the-lad. That day he was swaggering cocksure and smelling of stale beer.

"You lasses looks luvely close up. Proper angel's." Greg said boldly, "An' that dainty thing you're takin' for a walk looks especial mouthwaterin' Jenny. I bets her lil' knicks' is pulled up luvely an' tight around her hot, little slot. I reckon she'd make a fine bit o' ruttin'"

Poppy giggled, putting his hands to his cheeks to hide the blush that crept up from his neck to his pretty face, but Jennifer showed no sign of being flattered or amused.

Greg Touter had been employed a few times to assist the gardeners at Fairyfield, so she knew him well enough to be confident as she elbowed her way beyond him on the path.

Drunken lout! ANGEL'S indeed! Girl's hadn't been called that since they stopped wearing girdles and seamed stockings.

She increased her pace without replying or looking back.

With a raucous laugh the youth abandoned the wheelbarrow and pursued them, skipping in front to block their way and this time he opened out the blade of a jack-knife and twirling it in his hand in a way that was meant to be intimidating.

Cupping her fingers under Poppy's elbow Jennifer hurriedly propelled him forward, again bustling past the moronic teenager.

Greg stumbled round and followed. "Ain't yu gunna give me summat? I's got plenty to give you. I can easy manage two of yer." he mocked.

"Give you something? Don't tempt me!" Jennifer hissed softly.

Alarmed, Poppy stared up at her. "Oh dear! Are you sure he won't hurt us?" The girl's face was grim and she had spots of bright colour staining her pale cheeks. "Hold my hand and you'll be okay. Greg's more mouth than trousers."

Still on their heels the youth grin broadened another notch and he cackled in amusement.

"Hey Jenny, sell me the kid's knickers. I'll pay extra if they're still warm with pussy heat."

Poppy gulped. "Shall I give him my panties?" he whispered fearfully.

"Certainly not, you silly queen!" fumed Jennifer in a fierce voice. Suddenly her eyes flashed with sudden intensity, she stopped, and with fury mounting swung around. "Look Greg Touter, just leave us alone and piss off."

Greg paused and levelled his gaze. "That's not a nice way for a lady to talk, is it? I reckon yer posh mummy would be disappointed with the language yer usin'. Relax an' 'ave some fun wi' me. I'll shag the two of you side by side, or if you like I'll stack the young un on top and do it that way."

Jennifer stopped and then turn about, her body rigid, her eyes gleaming dangerously. Totally in command of herself she stared at him. Greg was a simple-minded, foul-mouth bumpkin attempting to bully someone he'd gravely underestimated.

Without giving any indication of her intent her two hands closed like talons and latched onto his shirtfront, while her right knee snapped sharply upward and crashed into the crotch of his trousers.

For a fleeting moment she was able to relish the way the shape of his balls seemed to bulge and spread out under the impact, then Greg's eyes bulged too, and he wailed. His head slumped down as he groped at his crotch and the girl took the opportunity to close her fists and slam them hard against the side of his face, first right, then left.

Howling, stunned and disorientated, the youth first staggered then fell to his knees, and before he could make sense of what had happened Jennifer was behind him. Eyes glaring with manic fury she raised a foot and stamping it between his shoulders, knocking him flat on his face. "Glurk!" An indefinable noise escaped Greg's mouth as he hit the ground.

Flabbergasted at such sudden violence Poppy could only watch with his knees shaking as Jennifer held Greg down with a foot in the middle of his back and took up his jack-knife.

"Bloody 'ell, dunna hurt me, Jenny." the youth pleaded in a rush of terror, "I'll give you anything if you don't hurt me."

"You've got nothing I want, dumb-brain," Jennifer replied coldly, "but I think your dizzy thoughts can do with something to occupy them when I'm gone.

With a few swift movements she slashed through his waist belt before slitting his trousers down to the bottom of the seat, then she stood up closed the knife and pitched it down the hillside.

Poppy gazed at her with admiration. He was a weak little thing and very glad to have a strong girl protecting him, and he felt quite happy to have the collar and lead attached to him again.

Leaving Greg bleating Jennifer and the sissy walked the rest on the way in silence.

The path wound through the trees where clouds of gnats swirled beneath the branches, down a short way, past clumps of bushes and into an orchard at the rear of the house where Monica Braithwaite lived.

Ducking beneath linen draped on a washing line they were greeted by the girl who had apparently seen them approaching.

"Hi, Jen'! Who's this with you then?

Jennifer made her voice light. "Mummy promised you a reward for helping Miss Twist with the photographs, so I chose Poppy for you."

Poppy's hair was shining and clean, and his face, sweet as an apple, was innocent of avarice, save of course for his sweeping eyelashes which never failed to give a hint of hot promise.

Monica beamed. "Scrumptious! I like him very much. I like him for the way he looks and for the way he is. He's cute."

Jennifer removed Poppy's collar and Monica led them through the kitchen into the sitting room, all cosy and cluttered. There Poppy put down the sports bag he'd been carrying.

"Press your nose to the wallpaper and count to a hundred whilst I talk with Monica." Jennifer told him, she then smiled amiably at the other girl. "I hope you didn't get into trouble because of what happened at Diana's lodge that night. You took an awful risk doping her tea."

Monica shrugged. "Her ladyship were suspicious of me I think, but in the end she reckoned me too thick to 'ave anything to do wi' it. 'Cordin' to 'er I's only good for sweepin' up, makin' beds and getting rid o' her boyfriends used rubbers."

Jennifer cast a glance around the room. "You'll need a bed to enjoy your reward properly."

Monica looked aghast and shook her head. "I dursn't use the upstairs. Me mam would go potty if she found out I'd had folk up there." She indicated a lumpy sofa with lace-edged antimacassars. "That does okay for most things."

Her gaze drifted to Poppy who was still facing the wall. "That precious little thing looks so innocent - like the only kiss he's ever had was on the fore'ed from a maiden-aunt. Is yu really gunna let me do stuff wi' him?"

"Don't let his looks fool you," Jennifer replied, "He's as gay as a dance-band and he's had more pricks in him than an antique pincushion, but he as a skill with expressions that adds to his charm Would you like to undress him? He won't make a fuss whilst I'm here."

Monica flexed her fingers in anticipation. "O'course I'd like to peel 'im.

Is I allowed to snog the little beauty when I does it?"

"Sure, but he's a sissy and prefers men. Although he's had a lot of experience kissing boys I doubt that he's kissed many girls so you'll need to be a bit butch and masculine when you handle him. He responds best when he feels dominated."

Tentatively Monica moved up behind Poppy to listen to him still mumbling numbers, then in a rush of eagerness she turned him around and pressed his back against the wall. At once her hands began to stroke up and down his body, feeling his soft tummy beneath his tiny skirt and encountering the slight shelf of his hips.

A blush crept up the sissy-boys neck, but he didn't struggle or protest. After all, Monica was as tall as Jennifer even if she was stupid, and she was eighteen-years-old while he was only just turned twelve. And anyway, Jennifer herself remained in the room to make sure he behaved himself.

"You's not allowed to be a boy, so you mus' be a girl," Monica gurgled in a thick, syrupy voice, "You sure looks like a girl in them schoolgirl togs yo's wearing, an' I bets yer lass enough to be a little lesbian luvver fer me, ain't you?"

The analogy seemed to confuse Poppy, but when Monica gazed into his eyes she saw a measure of acceptance.

Putting her arms around his waist she scooped him up and gently touched her lips against his mouth before ever so slowly parting his lips with her tongue, then holding him tight she pressed her mouth down to deliver a deep kiss, rocking her jaw about until she could force her tongue into his succulent sissy mouth.

Poppy twisted his head in an attempt to throw off her ravaging, but the girl only kissed him harder. Clamping her mouth onto his own she sucked, trying to swallow mouthfuls of his youthful flavour, unwittingly - though perhaps not - making the sissy develop a pit-prop in his pants.

Eventually she raised her head to glance at Jennifer who was busy opening up the divan.

"This wee madam's as toothsome as me mam's apple-pie. I could eat him." Without waiting for a response she turned to Poppy again. His lips were hot and parted and she kissed him once more, this time slobbering on his neck and working her tongue in his ear before returning to munch on his mouth and suck his tongue. In a frenzy of excitement she clawed at him, feeling his slender shape and pushing her hands up the back of his skirt to cup his soft bottom with both hands. Then she pulled her hands up and began tugging at his clothes.

The sissy made no effort to undress himself, but neither did he make any effort to stop her doing it. His neat little blouse was pulled open in a clumsy, hurried kind of way that tore away two of the buttons.

"Mmm! That's a bit different to when I worked at the Grange. Miss Hancock let's you wear a pretty bra nowadays." the girl purred while trailing the flat of her tongue over his bare shoulder. "I approves of that. I allus said pretty boys should wear pretty bras. Lean forward a bit so's I can unfasten it at the back. I want to get at yer tits."

With the training-bra pulled away she squeezed his small bare breasts, then she dipped low and enveloped each small, swollen pink nipple in turn with her mouth, cheeks dimpling as she pumped the tender, warm flesh back and forth.

"Oooo - whooo!" Poppy's shoulders rose and fell in rapid jerks and he couldn't help moaning. He always made a silly noise when his nipples were sucked and it didn't seem to matter who did it. Titty kisses were every panty-boys vulnerability, especially when it was done - oh - so nicely.

Feminine fingers deftly unfastened the buttons of his skirt and the garment trickled down his legs to reveal a pair of little pants that bulged. "Dear, dear!" Monica imitated light-hearted surprise as she squirmed a fingertip around in his bellybutton, "A girl shouldn't have a lump like that in her knickers. I'd better get yer pants off an' see what the trouble is."

The sissy mewled and shook as she slide down his underwear and allowed his aroused cock to swing up to full mast. It was no monster, little more than four inches of stiff boy-flesh enraptured with girlitude, but it was sufficient to make Monica's eyes sparkle. Poppy looked delicious as he stood nervously nibbling his pouty lips, and it was a natural reaction for her to take hold of his gland and jink the foreskin, exploring it in detail and rubbing every centimetre of penile flesh.

"There we are," she breathed heatedly as her hand glided back and forth. "Do you like what I'm doing? D'you like bein' tossed-off?"

Poppy squirmed and husked secretively in her ear. "Mmm, yes Monica."

Inspired, the girl's mouth sucked at the hot, perfumed cheeks of his young sissy's face, while her fingers assessed the tension in the male appendage they were strumming, an item that appeared to have extended another inch since she'd started.

"Yer ready so quick! Are yu' ready to do a big sissy-cum for me?"

"Y-yes Monica. If I'm allowed to."

"O'course yer allowed to sweetheart. You may prefer a man to do it for you, but there's not many cocks that don't do a nice squirty for me." She looked down at his stiff penis with compassion and said, "Poor Poppy.

You really do need to cum, don't you?"

He whimpered.

She smirked across at Jennifer in triumph. "This tart's on the boil a'ready."

The other girl gave a patient smile. "Can I suggest you just keep him simmering. He's better entertainment when he's constantly panting for a finish."

Monica stepped back and gazed in alarm at the penis-shaped vibrator her friend had taken from her sports bag, and somewhat awe-struck she retreated away from the sissy-boy standing against the wall. Not so Jennifer. Completely ignoring his wagging erection she drew him out from the puddle of his clothes and guided him onto the divan. "I want you to show Monica how you use a plastic dick." she told him.

Poppy blushed and tilted his head in the attitude of an imploring supplicant..

"Jennifer - that's not - I simply can't -"

"Bosh! This thing's only average size and you'll manage it easily." She gave Monica a pained glance as she stroked the distressed she-boy's bare buttocks..

"It's not the object that unnerves him, it's having to demonstrate with it in front of a strange girl that makes him cringe. Lovely! I do enjoy hearing a sissy's feeble whines."

She grabbed his hair and pushed him down. "Kneel on the divan you creep.

Head down and bottom up."

Monica looked on mesmerised as Jennifer squatted behind the flushed, subservient sissy. The girl first spread his buttocks, and then doused baby-oil liberally between them.

"Ah, oh!" Poppy squawked but remained still as her long, slender forefinger explored his anus. She inserted it gently, wiggling it and probing until it was stuck fully inside his rectum.

"Even with all the use you get you're still a dainty, tight little thing, aren't you?" Jennifer murmured with satisfaction, turning her embedded finger in a twisting motion, swivelling her wrist to further stretch his sphincter.

Poppy made a pleading noise, but strangely he arched his bottom as if seeking deeper penetration.

After a brief jig with the finger Jennifer withdrew it and introduced the tip of the vibrator into the vacated space. Then her arm strained as she crammed down on the plug.

"Aaa!" Poppy groaned as his delicate anal ring expanded. His bullied fundament tightly clenched at and spasmodically grasped around the smooth plastic shaft as it entered, but the slickness of everything made preventing its penetration impossible.

"Oooh, aaaooow!" His lips curled and his eyebrows furrowed as his pink face pressed down into the divan.

"There! That's no trouble for you, is it?" Jennifer purred as she worked the thickest two-thirds into him and stirred it around. Calmly she clicked the switch on the base of the vibrator and set it humming.

"Uuuurrghh!" Poppy found it impossible not to respond as a genial buzzing brought sensations of deeply felt pleasure to his lower body.

"Okay, you can do it for yourself now." she told him. Backing away she joined Monica to watch as the sissy collapsed and kicked about on the divan. The whirring of the small motor was unrelenting, and the desperate expression on his face told them all they needed to know about the incessant pulsing of the latex shape pushed up deep inside him, and from which there was no escape.

Instinctively Poppy reached behind and grasped the thick stem. "Ooooph!" He gagged and began to rotate his hips, skewering the terrible shape further into himself.

"Oh," he puffed, "It's so - so wriggly - it's - it's so - so -"

"So big?" suggested Jennifer helpfully, "So solid and unforgiving? Yes it's a merciless sissy-lover that demands to go all the way, so it's ideal for the likes of you. Move around on it - work it in and out and give it the same good time you give to all pricks."

While Monica gaped in fascination Jennifer reached into her sports bag, and her hand quickly found what it sought.

"Here," she said as she handed it to Monica, "This is for you."

The other girl's eyes widened in disbelief as she viewed the strap-on dildo being offered to her. Gingerly she took it in her hands and brushed aside the attachment straps to examine it. The flesh coloured object was made of soft, solid rubber, and its length was deeply ribbed with moulded veins, however she was most impressed by the awesome bulbous shape of its tip. "Cripes Jenny, it's a perfec' image of a randy hunk's cock." She blinked her eyes and raised them. "Is you expectin' me to - y'know - do 'im!"

"I thought you liked Poppy."

"Course I likes 'im. I'd never need sugar on me cornflakes if he was around." She offered a crooked smile. "Actually, I's allus wanted to try it - y'know - fuck a lad in the arse. An' young Poppy does have an allurin' little bum, don't he? He's very, er - fuckable."

A quiver of excitement shuddered over her as she hurriedly pulled off her skirt and pants. Climbing into the harness of the apparatus she buckled it around her hips, her excitement heightening as she established the base of the prothesis against her pubis and became fully aware of her manlike extension.

"Wow! I feels dangerous now, yon cherub's gunna have to hold on tight when I gets to 'im."

Jennifer suddenly became aware of Poppy's intense little gasps. The persistent hum of the vibrator was subdued when buried inside him and louder each time it was extracted, and she noticed the rhythm was becoming faster and more frantic.

"Mmm, ooh Jen-Jennifer - it's - it's f-fucking me." Poppy bleated.

One of his knees rapidly threshed up and down each time he stabbed into his anus, and on seeing the slackness of his mouth, the glazed expression in his eyes and the dribbling tip of his swollen penis, she recognised the signs of danger.

"Stop now!" she demanded, then looking at Monica she explained, "He'll be jerking off all over the divan in a second if he keeps on, and it's too early to allow him that."

At once she extracted the length of plastic from the bewildered she-boy and examined his anus.

"That's opened you up nicely. Now you can be a nice little bunny for Monica."

Poppy waited nervously, buttocks clenched as the other girl climbed up on the divan behind him and placed a hand on his back. She stroked him in long sweeping movements as if he were a pet of some kind, while her other hand reached between his legs and cupped his balls, hefting them in her hand and bouncing them up and down.

Seeing him bent forward, head down and bum lifted and resigned to letting her do whatever she wished, Monica gained an inkling of the delight Jennifer felt so often. A pleasure gained from unquestioned domination.

Legs splayed, knees bending, she took up a crouched position behind his subservient form and brought her thighs level with his raised bottom, then with one hand she slowly rubbed the bulbous end of the dildo between his bum-cheeks.

"Jus' let me do it, me little treasure. This ain't much different to the one you's already used, 'cept this one's got me on the other end."

Taking a firm grip on his hips she slowly sank the strap-on penis into him, pleased to discover how easily he accepted it. She didn't pull back, but just stared at him.

"He really is luvely!" she murmured, pressing forward and wriggling her hips in a wide circle to make her cock churn inside the sissy's bottom. She pushed hard and Poppy groaned. His heart pounded and his eyelids drooped as the cocks thick, rounded head tunnelled a wicked path deep into his rosette. Within moments the smooth flesh of his bottom had created a concave dimple around the plunging shaft.

"Right!" Monica cooed, "Relax me little bunny-rabbit, 'cos I'm gunna shag you proper now."

"Oww Monica, oow!" Poppy gasped as the girl eased the gigantic plug most of the way out from his clasping rosebud - "Arrraaow!" - then squealed as she wormed it back into him.

He could do nothing then but clench his teeth as the excited girl violated his splayed bottom and relished the view of his stretched anal ring sliding up and down the surface of her tool. He was getting cock. He was a girl being lusted after as a sexual creature, and his pretty arse was being used in the best way possible, as a cock receptacle.

Content to be a spectator on this occasion Jennifer sprawled in a nearby chair to watch. It suited her jaded senses to see sweet little boys being manfully handled by a girl, it humiliated them wonderfully and put the supremacy of females into proper perspective in their pleural minds.

"Ooh, yeow, ooh!" The young sissy-boy released a series of delirious whimpers as his body bounced to the beat of Monica's thrusting rhythm. The girl had a firm grip on his rolling hips and in between pushing deep she was making the fat tip of her cock rotate lewdly just inside the entrance of his submissive anus. Not only did she enjoy ploughing into him, she'd discovered how nice it was to tease and tantalise his expectations. "That's a good girly, there you go now! You can do it sweet-thing, an' I's enjoyin' fuckin' yer naughty bottom."

Her pleasure was obvious from the high colour in her cheeks, but then a dreaded noise she had not expected to hear that evening turned the vibrant healthy glow to a wash as pale as uncooked pastry. It was the sound of a key turning in the lock of the front door.

"Oh shit! That'll be me mam." she squawked in horror. Pulling abruptly away from her gasping partner she scrambled from the divan intent on taking up some pose of innocence, but found it impossible to hide the prominent thrust of the dildo she'd recently been using and which was still fastened about her thighs.

Her signs of panic affected Jennifer too at first, but the state of alarm dropped dramatically when it was discovered it wasn't Monica's mother coming through the door, it was only Monica's younger sister Lizzie. Monica snapped at her angrily as her anxiety floated back to ground level. "Watcha yer doin' here yu little bitch? Yer supposed to be round at Auntie Flo's tonight with everyone else."

Lizzie was no more than 4'10'' tall, a ten-year-old with a delicate pixie face, big brown eyes and a pert mouth, and with a sweep of long fair hair that framed them all. If she looked innocent then those looks belied her ability to fend off the hostile invective aimed at her. Perhaps being a younger sister meant she had to assert herself. In any event she gave Monica a fierce look which meant; 'Just leave me alone or I'll tell everyone things you don't want them to know about.'

Leaning back against the door she clicked it shut. "It was boring at Auntie Flo's -" Her keen young eyes scanned the scene in the room and sparkled. "It looks a lot more interesting here."

Fearlessly she advanced across the carpet. "I thought at first I'd caught you all doin' girly-stuff with each other. But that one there -" she indicated the cringing figure of Poppy, "- he may have a girl's hairstyle, but he's trying to hide a stiff willy and some balls behind his hands, so he's a boy."

She glanced at Jennifer. "Monica's wearin' a willy-thing. Was she was fuckin' him? Was she fuckin' a boy with it?"

Jennifer tried to remain amiable. "It may be best if you just went up to your room Lizzie dear. Little girls shouldn't know about the kind of things we're doing here."

"Just bugger off." added Monica less diplomatically.

"Shan't!" Lizzie persisted stubbornly, and she glared at her elder sister with deliberate menace. "If I can't stay I'll tell everyone about what Lady Diana pays you to do up at the stables."

Monica looked shaken and she met Jennifer's inquisitive stare with a weak smile.

"She's makin' something out o' nuthin'. Her ladyship likes to watch me play wi' the hosses sometimes when they're on heat. It's only a bit o' hand-jobbin'. Crikey, I's only done it a couple of times."

"Yes - but with horses!" gasped Jennifer incredulously.

"Mam will knock the daylights out of her if she finds out." Lizzie interjected with unsisterly jubilation.

Jennifer applied herself. Usually she was persuasive enough to talk a way out from any problem, but the uncompromising situation she was now in was an awkward one to explain, made all the more awkward by having to deal with a child.

"Look, Lizzie darling, if you go upstairs your lovely sister and I will club together and buy you a nice present."

The girl's eyes narrowed slyly. "Don't want a present. I want to put on a willy-thing like Monica and fuck the boy."

"Yous a disgustin' little madam our Lizzie." seethed Monica.

Jennifer took a less jaundiced view. "If she's so keen to do it the solution may be to indulge her. If she takes part she's unlikely to tell other people about what went on here, and that'll be safer for you Monica."

At once Lizzie began pulling off her skirt and taking down her pants. "Come on Monica, help me put on the willy-thing. I don't care if that silly boy-creature sees my crack."

As it dawned on him what was being arranged Poppy gazed at Jennifer in helpless concern. Being abused by two depraved teenagers was bad enough, but the younger girl had introduced a stomach wrenching element to the ordeal. She was even younger than his cousin Harriet.

"Don't let her do me Jennifer. She's younger than I am and she's only a kid."

The girl gave him a smile of sympathy. "She may be a mere child Poppy dear, but she is female, and that means her wishes are more important than yours. Despite you being such a super sissy kind of creature you're still really only a boy."

Poppy looked on with great misgivings as a sour-faced Monica attached the oddly curved dildo to her younger sister. A seven inch cock looked obscene thrusting out from between such small legs, and the slightness of the girl herself seemed to magnify its size.

When his eyes met Lizzie's, and then he blushed deeply as he watched the girls mouth form into a tiny smile. She was gripping her newly acquired appendage in two hands and pumping it up and down.

Brimming with confidence she walked over and slapped Poppy's hands away from his groin and thrust her projection against his penis. "Look what I've got. My prick's bigger than yours, and that means I'm the boss. " she teased, moving closer and flaunting herself. "What's your name, boy?"

He lowered his eyes. "Poppy."

"Poppy!" The ten-year-old gurgled with amusement. "Poppies are flowers and only girls have the names of flowers. Are you called Poppy because people think you're a beautiful blossom, or because you're a sissy who screws like a girl."

Poppy quickly snapped back. "It's short for Popperwell. That's my real name." Her flippant attitude made him suddenly reticent and he refused to say any more.

Lizzie turned to the older girls. "What do I do now?"

"If yer don't know what to do yer daft tryin' to do it, ain't yer?" Monica replied disparagingly.

"Just follow your instinct darling." said Jennifer more civilly.

Lizzie gave Poppy a sharp look. "He's a bit sulky, will he do as I tell him?"

"He will whilst I'm here." replied Jennifer. "And if you're bossy enough he'll roll over like a puppy."

Poppy nibbled dismally at his lip. Jennifer was his nemesis. He was taller than the little kid and he knew he could smack her and make her cry if Jennifer wasn't around. Instead, with her confidence now reinforced Lizzie gave him a shove. "Get on your back."

Reluctantly he clambed down onto the divan and lay down in submission. He saw no way of escaping from the little girl with a big cock. He felt helpless and slightly afraid, but he had no choice other than to submit. "It won't be easy doing anything face to face." he warned her.

"Shut-up poppy-boy. I know how to do it. I've seen pictures in books." She followed him down and squeezed between his knees, then completely ignoring his lolling genitals she pressed close into his thighs. Her young face scowled when confronted by the low elevation of his buttocks, but rather than admit he was wiser than she was herself, she raised his legs and stuffed a cushion under him.

 

Poppy stared at her with an utterly dumbfound look until, in a way that had become natural to him when pushed onto his back, with his body arched and his legs spread wide he was forced to expose his lubricated hole to his little girl beau.

He'd made up his mind to be passive and not respond to anything she did, but that resolution dissolved instantly when she thrust with her hips. Lizzie had braced herself, and taking a firm grip of his waist was digging her fingers into his flesh. The push of her thighs was solid and determined, so when the firm tip of her apparatus pressed between his bottom-cheeks he meowed like a kitten.

"Oooow!" He closed his eyes tight as the girls thighs forced the length of smooth, stiff rubber into his rectum in a relentless, slow sliding motion. His head jerked back and forth as his bottom attempted to grasp the thing and control it, but of course his well-oiled portal found no purchase on its slippery, smooth surface, and the bulbous tip mashed his already fragile anal resistance and sank straight in.

Having had no experience of such carnal activity in the past the young girl's movements were rough and somewhat frenzied as she forcefully humped forward.

"Oooh, ooh Lizzie, ooooh!" Poppy yowled while his head rolled and his smooth bottom shimmied and quaked as his anus expanded and conformed to the thick, oiled contours of the object inside it.

He was experiencing a familiar hot, slightly burning sensation in his bowls.

She could fuck. Girl or not little Lizzie could make a boy take cock. His

heart beat wildly as he contracted his tummy muscles and curled his hips up

to meet her next impaling thrust,

"Lizzie's rather outgoing for her age, isn't she?" remarked Jennifer as she watched closely. "She's got him on his back with his legs open, and she's going at him just like a boy getting stuck up a girl. What a little firecracker!"

"Dirty little cow I reckons," sniffed Monica, "I don't know where she gets it from, I really don't. She came in the house that time you left Lucy here, and straight away she had her frock up an' was riding his face. That little sissy-perv' didn't half have to do some knicker suckin' that day."

"Gnnn-gggooh!" Poppy whimpered and began wriggling his bottom in tempo with the in and out movements of the insistent girl-cock. Grinning with glee the callous little ten-year-old had at once got the knack of how to heave the attachment fastened to her pelvis back and forth in his helpless sissy bottom, and with her uncertainties gone she was using the entire length of cock to pump his pliant body.

Then something magical happened. If the girl's immaturity made her slightly brutal, she was at least blessed by a fluke of chance when her random oscillations began to nudge that special place inside Poppy that all sissies revere because of its extreme sensitivity - the prostate, the gland that creates ball-juice.

The sissy's bowels suddenly convulsed and the burning feeling in his rectum was transformed into sensuous warmth., his mouth went slack and he began to sob with a strange mixture of shame and ecstasy as thrills assailed him deep inside.

"Oh, oh, oh!" Eyes tightly shut and breath coming in short, sharp, noisy gasps, the lance that impaled Poppy banished all self control as it stroked delicately against that lovely , loving region, and he started to thresh about and hump frantically with the little girl's strap-on fuck-bone. Each fast thrust and rapid withdrawal induced babbled exclamations as he blissed-out - loving the sensations they brought - glorying in what Lizzie was doing to him.

"Oooorrr, YES! Ooh Lizzie! Oh -yeah! Fuck - fuck - fuck me!"

"Preteen-love is so inspiring, isn't it?" quipped Jennifer, watching the proceedings while worming her clit between her thighs.

The young girl laying on top of Poppy and randily stuffing him with rubber had no appreciation of such an idea. What she was doing was purely mechanical and done only to raise her status in the eyes of the older girls. "I've had a enough of this." she suddenly declared, abruptly pulling away.

"I don't think Poppy's had enough." remarked Jennifer who felt slight disappointment at the brief duration of the junior coupling.

"I don't care about him," Lizzie replied coldly as she gazed down at the starry-eyed sissy who was clearly eager to continue. "Doing fucks is tiring. Why do girl's always have to do the hard work?"

Jennifer looked down at Poppy too. "Poor Poppy! Poor little sissy-boy with his sissy-balls still fully loaded with sissy-cream. I really think we must do something to help you now."

The two older girl's took hold of Poppy's legs and pulled them up until their apex was poised over his head, then they folded him double with his bottom up in the air and his genitals dangling above his face. When Jennifer pressed down on his buttocks, Poppy groaned and Monica looked a bit concerned. "Blimey! You'll snap the little bugger in half."

"There's no chance of that," Jennifer reassured her, "Old Hardwick keeps all our sissies as supple as green twigs, and one like Poppy can take a good deal more contortion than this."

To prove her point she applied a little more pressure. "Ahhhm aaah, ahhh!" Poppy moaned in staccato. "Jennifer you'll snap me, you really will."

Ignoring his squawks Jennifer glanced at Lizzie. "Have a peep underneath and tell me how far his willy is from his face."

The girl peered carefully beneath Poppy's upturned thighs, saw his red face grimacing and noted the hang of his distended penis. "Couple of inches I think." she reported.

"Could he lick his knob if he stuck out his tongue?"

Lizzie poked Poppy in the ribs with the point of a small finger.

"Stick out your tongue and give it a try." she told him.

"I-I don't want to." he moaned.

Reaching out Lizzie grasped his penis and gave his foreskin a brief jiggle, but ceased when a glob of clear fluid oozed from its flaring meatus. She gave him a couple more sharp jabs in the ribs. "Go on! Just try it, stupid."

Incredibly, this time Poppy obeyed and pushed out until he was able to swirl the tip of his juicy pink tongue around the juicy plum of his penis. "Now he's doin' it - he's lappin' at his knob-end!" Lizzie exclaimed in delight.

Jennifer nodded. "I'm going to push his thighs down a bit more. Try to get his willy into his mouth."

"Is yer gunna have him suck 'imself off?" asked Monica, who was occupied in fingering the sissy's bum-hole and stroking the under surface of his dangling balls.

Jennifer allowed herself a smirk. "That wouldn't be a bad conclusion to things, would it?"

The boys face creased in pain as Jennifer applied more downward pressure, but his sobs and groans were curtailed suddenly when Lizzie guided the tip of his penis onto his lips and then stuffed it into his mouth. Delirious with indecent excitement she started to jerk his foreskin again, and predictably Poppy began to make odd noises.

"Um! Um, um gurr! Um, uhhh!"

The discomfort of being forcefully folded over didn't seem to register much once he felt the tip of his own penis in his mouth. It was a new experience for him, and not entirely unpleasant. The only resentment he had was of being observed by the girls, especially the small one who seemed to take perverse delight in handling his cock.

"Come on. Hurry up and squirt some stuff in your mouth." urged Lizzie impatiently as she worked hard at keeping his foreskin mobile.

"Don't - mmph - don't - gmmph!" It was disgusting, but sort of exciting too. His boy-juices had been on the boil for the best part of an hour, and with Monica now ceaselessly tinkering with his balls and anus and her younger sister practising intuitive skill in handling his cock it was impossible to hold them in any longer. Just a few more intimate strokes from Lizzie's tiny fingers and he was there.

His eyes blinked rapidly and he uttered a sudden string of gargling noises as his cock jerked several times in his mouth. A flash-flood of sissy-goo streaked the length of his gland and a large jet of sperm jumped out, then another, and then a third powerful spurt.

"Uuuuu, aarr, gummmph, glump!"

His mouth became flooded with his own warm semen and with Lizzie's help his penis repeatedly twitched and added to the deluge. Where did it all come from? he wondered. It was much more than he'd been expecting.

 

Miriam observed the assessor from the Historic Buildings Commission with a measure of disapproval. When he'd first arrived she'd believed her luck had changed and he was about to reverse a previous decision and tell her that financial help was about to arrive by way of a grant. That was not what had happened.

"I was on my way to Chance Hall," rumbled Mr Crabtree, a thin, long-nosed man with the piercing eyes of an accountant, "And since Fairyfield Grange isn't too far off my route I took the opportunity to come here and insist you cease sending the Commission so many irritating letters. Fairyfield Grange as never been under consideration for a grant, and it never will be."

He'd declined to take a seat, so he and the headmistress stood facing each other in the middle of her parlour-office like a pair of pugilists in a boxing ring. She, delicate and sparrow-like, Crabtree no bigger but with eyes that tried to dominate. He had thinning brown hair brushed back on his head, and he wore a jacket and a neat little bow-tie. In Miriam's opinion such men always wore bow-ties, it betrayed their self-image of importance.

"You're being unfair," Miriam complained bitterly, "You're prepared to give assistance to Lord Chance-Barton who's wealthy enough not to need any, yet you give me nothing. Fairyfield as twice the history of Chance Hall."

"Certainly, I know all that," Crabtree replied heatedly, "But externally Chance Hall is a perfect example of a mid-Victorian stately-home. The Grange on the other hand as been cobbled about so much during its existence it represents neither one thing or another. It's an absolute mess, a dire hodgepodge of a place madam, and those two grotesque wings added during the reign of King Edward are the last straw. It would be more than my jobs is worth to settle any money on this place."

She was tempted to attack him with knives at that moment, but instead she turned about to conceal her anger and fixed her gaze on the portrait of Sylvesta Fairyfield hanging on the wall over her desk. It was a frustrating sight in a time of financial starvation. She desperately needed money to oppose the National Trust in their claim against her home and the sale of the Laszlo would settle all her cash worries in a single sweep. But the painting had to legally belong to her first, and since it was part of Uncle Albert's estate that wouldn't happen until after she'd won her case in court.

Gathering up her wits she swung about to face her visitor again. "Would you like to have a look around the school Mr Crabtree? I've a number of lovely children here and many of them would cherish a lesson in - um - historical architecture from such a worldly person as yourself. Perhaps I could arrange a few interviews. In private of course."

Her attempt to appeal to the baser instincts of his carnal nature met with complete failure. The man ignored her innuendo entirely and reached for his briefcase.

"I don't have the time for any such nonsense. I'm due to have tea with Lady Chance-Barton."

Before he could depart from the room the door opened and Emma Twist popped her head inside.

"Sorry to -"

She stopped in mid-sentence and her eyes glowed at the sight of the visitor. Immediately sidling uninvited into the room she swung her hips and offered him a broad smile.

"Billy! What a surprise it is to see you. I never dreamed we'd meet again once I'd gone from Leeds."

The man paused in his stride and the colour drained from his face. The sudden change in his demeanour was remarkable. That which just a few moments before had been bombastic and sneering was now one of hesitance and uncertainty, and he seemed fearful of gazing at Emma full in the face, as if like some creature from a Greek myth she'd turn him into stone if their eyes met.

The sparse flesh on his face moving into furrows as he struggled with a reply and his tone seemed defensive.

"I-I didn't imagine we'd ever meet again either."

"But here we are!" fizzed Emma.

Sensing the tension in the room she held him with a stare for a moment before glancing at Miriam and then back at the man's hangdog expression. Finally she moved up to Mr Crabtree, took his briefcase from his limp hand and put an arm about his waist.

"Tell you what Billy," she murmured as she ushered him towards the door, "You leave your briefcase here and stand outside in the hall for a minute while I have a word with the headmistress. I'll call you back in when I'm ready."

Having shut the door behind him she turned into the room and smirked. Her amusement was infectious and even in her depressed mood Miriam became tempted to smile.

"What on earth went on between you and that grisly man when you were in Leeds? He allowed you to lead him away like a lamb."

Emma stopped smirking and settled for a broad grin. "Oh, he and I - we had a certain understanding. He has certain needs I've catered for in the past. Why is he here now?"

"I'd some hopes pinned on a grant from the Historic Buildings Commission to help me over a spot of bother, and that horror is the assessor who recommends such things."

"From the sour look on your face when I came in I'd say you hadn't enjoyed much success with him."

"He's a bloody simpering jack-in-office. A spineless know-it-all jobsworth."

Miriam complained bitterly.

Emma chuckled. "Yes, I know that."

Her fingers plucked gently at the buttons of her blouse. "Would you like me to help? I know him rather well and I could get him to change his mind."

The eyes of the headmistress narrowed. "Good Lord! I wouldn't expect you to go down on your back for the likes of that creep."

Emma removed her blouse and adjusted the sit of her breasts in the cups of the skimpy black bra she wore beneath, then before Miriam could make another comment she unclipped her skirt and let it drop to the floor. "Nothing like that will be necessary. Billy and I have a special kind of relationship." she explained.

She went straight to the narrow cupboard in the corner and took out a school teacher's traditional mortarboard cap that the headmistress rarely wore. Placing it squarely on her head she then also drew out a traditional school cane, and at last Miriam began to grasp her meaning.

"Do you keep a cock here in the office?" Emma asked.

"In the vitrine, behind the sherry." the headmistress told her.

The strap-on was immediately hauled out and Emma stroked it.

"Mmm! You always seem to favour the jumbo sizes." Without pausing to consider anything else she buckled it onto her thighs, and when she'd finished she brought the cane down with a sharp downward swish with one hand whilst giving the strap-on length a joyous shake with the other.

Miriam had yet to recover completely from her surprise. "Do you use a cock on him?"

Miss Twist gave a small shrug of her shoulders that could have meant anything.

"Not always. The little pantomimes Billy and I play out don't always have the same ending. But he likes me to wear one. It tells him exactly who the boss is and that's important. I'll need an hour alone with him Miriam. Is that okay? If it's a grant of money you want from him I can guarantee you he'll award you the maximum amount."

Still slightly shocked by the overt sexuality being flaunted in her study, Miriam nodded.

"Send him in when you leave. Tell him teacher is ready to see him now."

The hall outside was deserted, which was a mercy for Mr Crabtree. Miriam found him standing obediently beside the door, back against the wall and face cast down, looking every bit the nervous schoolboy who knew he was in for a hard time. He seemed immobilised by his own imagination, gripped by some fetish he probably didn't even understand himself, but which revolved around the role played by Emma.

"Go in Crabtree. Miss Twist will see you know." she told him curtly.

The normally loud man was barren of words and his attempt at what was probably intended as a grovelling apology was aborted before it started by Emma's voice rasping sternly from inside the room. "Don't keep me waiting Billy. Come in and take your trousers off. You and I have something to discuss."

Offering only a shamefaced glance he silently slunk away through the office door.

 

The bright promise of Jennifer's day threatened to fizz out like a damp squib. She'd gone to the haberdashers in Peasmarsh with the clear intention of seeing Polly Clagget, but instead of finding the delectable and suggestible seventeen-year-old behind the shop counter she was confronted by the girl's mother, Martha.

 

Martha Clagget was a contradiction of her daughters modesty. Often brash and rather showy, she was a brunette with hair styled short and shaggy and with brown eyes and pale skin. When younger she had clearly been a beauty, and if ageing had rounded out her frame somewhat it had done it in a kind way. She still retained a pair of nice hips and a good bottom, and her breasts, which she considered her best feature, were large and always given full prominence when she dressed.

"Sorry if you've come special to see Polly, but she works so hard all the time I thought she could do with a day off." Martha told her.

Jennifer glared a scowl of dissatisfaction and turned to leave, but the woman quickly added.

"Hold on dear. While you're here I wonder if you'd mind helping me out. I'm treating myself by runnin'-up a new evening gown, and measuring oneself is never easy. It'll only take a minute."

She came around the counter clutching a tailor's measure, her two large breasts juddering noticeably beneath a blue silk blouse. Going to the door she turned a 'Gone to Lunch' sign to the outside, pulled down the door-blind and turned the lock.

"Don't want any nosy so'n'so's peepin' in." she explained while plucking at the buttons on her blouse front. "Measurin' is best done in the buff as y'know, but I'm choosy about who gets to look at my knockers."

Two juddering bare mounds of flesh spilled out. Her breasts that were heavy, plump and highlighted by brown nipples that had an arrogant jut to them, and she was unashamabily proud of them.

"Impressive eh!" she said, giving them an unnecessary little shake. "You're an attractive lass yerself Jennifer but you're still a bit lackin' in the upstairs department. Fact is there's not many around here that can match my pair of udders."

Her mouth crinkled in a sly smile and her eyes smouldered. "You can feel 'em a bit if you measure 'em. Would you like to touch 'em, dear?"

Jennifer pursed her lips. "Touch them! Why would I want to do that?"

The woman frowned with annoyance. "Blokes can't keep their hands of 'em, and there's plenty o' women that like to admire 'em too. I make Polly tell me everything, and I know what you do when you come here. You fondle her, and you - you spank her bum."

She was attempting to instil some disapproval in her voice, but Jennifer didn't flinch. She could read Mrs Clagget as easily as she could read her daughter. Why else had she been dragged into this ridiculous farce of measuring her tits?

Having enjoyed relationships with several schoolmistress's when at boarding school she was not intimidated by females older than herself, and it wasn't uncommon for her to seize the initiative in such situations. Okay, she thought, if the woman wants to play, we'll play, but it'll be on my terms.

She took the measuring tape from Mrs Clagget's limp grasp and extended it in her hands, but instead of pressing it against the woman's dimensions as expected she drooped it across the top of the thrusting chest. Deftly, she curled the tape under the droop of one breast, then wrapped it around the voluptuous contours of the other to confine them both in a figure of eight. Then, without seeking any approval she drew the ends of the tape together and tightened the configuration until the mounds of flesh bulged and crowded together, one against the other.

Mrs Clagget seemed surprised and a little dazed, but although she sucked in a noisy breath she remained amazingly still while Jennifer tied a knot behind her neck.

"Christ! What are you doin'?" she said at last.

Jennifer gripped her chin and gave her no option but to look at the expression on her face.

"I'm letting you know who's boss here Mrs Clagget, and it's not you. I'm never too cruel, so don't worry. On the whole the things I do only heighten pleasure, but I have to have co-operation. I think you realise that, don't you?"

"Er, yes. I think so." Martha replied faintly. Jennifer Hancock's strength and self-assurance made her feel rather weak. There was something humiliating about being made to feel so fragile by a slip of a girl only half her age, but it certainly got her juices moving. "Polly said you could be very sharp and didn't stand for any augments, but she didn't tell me you'd tie-up my tits."

Grasping the tips of the bulging breasts in her hands Jennifer kneaded them briefly.

"I need to emphasis your submission. You ARE submitting to me, aren't you?"

The woman made no effort to draw back as her flesh was squeezed and pulled, she merely squirmed slightly and lowered her eyes. "Yes, I suppose I am."

Without another word Jennifer swung her around and told her to lean forward and take a good grip on the shop counter. She obeyed mechanically, remaining quite motionless as her skirt was hiked up over her hips. The raised skirt revealed black garters, black stocking tops and an excellent pair of sturdy thighs, but no pants.

"What! No underwear madam?" the teenager chastised when confronted by her bare rump. "Was you expecting me to call today? Is that why you sent Polly away and stayed here yourself?"

Mrs Clagget declined to reply. Her fingers clawed at the counter top, her head dipped and her bottom pushed back.

THWOCK!

"Ow!" She winced sharply and wriggled as Jennifer gave her backside immediate attention with a brisk swing of her hand.

With the woman's buttocks undraped and entirely at her mercy, and perhaps believing her hand wasn't quite the right instrument with which to wallop such a mature lady's behind, the girl then took a moment to select a leather belt from a number on display in the shop. Choosing a broad item she could utilise in the manner of a paddle when foreshortened by her hand, she began to swat Mrs Clagget's bottom repeatedly, making her bum cheeks jiggle and heave, and leaving fiery, smarting blotches on the tender white flesh.

WHOP!

"Uck!" The woman squirmed, her bottom bobbing up and down. Jennifer smiled wryly. "Don't move about too much or I may think you don't want to be smacked."

CRACK!

"Mmmmph, ooh!"

"Oh yes. That was a good one. It caught you square on your plumpest bits and must have stung awfully. Never mind. It'll just throb and feel hot for a while."

The strap was lighter and slapped keener than the ones she usually employed, and the glowing blotches it produced quickly became scarlet.

"Okay. Enough of that for the moment. Let's see what else we can have fun with."

She left the woman slumped against the counter top and went to her bag to take out a plastic strap-on. She'd brought it along to show Polly, to try and stimulate her and tempt her into making available her as yet untried delights, but it had a new role now. With Polly's mother it became an object for definite application.

Until then she had conducted her business with Mrs Clagget in cool detachment and with her excitement under control, but fastening the formidable tool onto her thighs engendered a pulse of perverse delight that set her body tingling. She'd always enjoyed being dominant in her relationships, and dominating with a cock was the ultimate expression of power.

Mrs Clagget didn't alter the submissive pose she'd adopted. With her freshly smacked bottom glowing like a beacon she leaned forward and gripped the shop counter while she peered at Jennifer with the wide eyes of a child. Slightly frightened, clearly excited, she watched the teenager approach with the dildo fixed in place and swinging almost horizontally in front of her thighs.

Jennifer moved up behind her. "Open your legs." she demanded.

Martha Clagget twittered nervously as she moved her feet apart. "Oh Jennifer, I don't think - perhaps you shouldn't -" Her protest was weak and uninspired, and she felt a wave of pleasure roll over her the moment the nub of the big-girls toy nozzled forward and became established in her pussy. The prong pushed easily long the length of the delicate, muscled tube of her vagina with no more than one or two firm thrusts, and it immediately transformed a cocky diva full of vanity into a moaning bitch full of cock. Her bound breasts bulged and bounced beneath her as she felt the girl grip her hips and begin to shunt rapidly in and out.

"Take it madam," Jennifer hissed, "Take my cock deep into your slushy snatch and grip it hard. Can you feel it? Can you feel my lovely girl-prick moving about inside you? It's beautiful isn't it? It shags you so nice."

"Ooowphh!" Mrs Clagget groaned and mewled, ecstatic with libidious stimulation. It had been a while since anyone had used her body and the object that was ploughing her at that moment seemed to have the dimensions of a stallion.

"Yes, yes. Oh yes. It's going deep, and it feels huge."

She'd been through three husbands but none of them had handled her as efficiently as Jennifer. Nor could she remember a strap-on doing her so well before. Nothing had ever felt quite as intense as the feelings wrought by that plastic length buried in her pussy, and glorious! She knew it would never become soft.

Jennifer banged all eight inches into her so forcibly it lifted her onto her toes, and she gagged, eyes rolling, her mind in a half stupor. "Wow! It's not often a lass gets to have a dick shove her about like that."

"You have to learn a lesson. You've got to be a good girl from now on."

"Yes. Oh I will be a good girl," Martha moaned in rapture, "I'll always be a good girl for you."

The plastic penis fitted so snug and made her feel a total whore, which was just how she liked to feel at such times, and to intensify the pleasure she slyly reached back between her legs and began to oscillate a fingertip around the tiny throbbing monolith of her clitoris. Almost with a touch of malice Jennifer extracted her tool from the woman's grasping hole, leaving the used vagina slack and slavering, and inducing a witter of disappointment from Mrs Clagget.

"You're quite a mare Mrs Clagget, aren't you? Quite insatiable." Jennifer mocked. "If I wasn't such a nice girl I'd reckon you as a slut. Do you want me to fuck you some more? Do you want my prick inside you again? You have to tell me if you do."

"Yes I want it," Martha moaned in delirious desire, "Put that thing back in me and use me like a bitch. Fuck me."

"Perhaps you'd like a little variety. Would you like to try something else?"

"Yeah, fuck my arse this time. I love it up there. Bang it in my back door."

Jennifer wasn't about to refuse a plea such as that, especially as Mrs Clagget was wagging her rear about to entice the action. She didn't doubt she loved being shagged in the backside, plenty of women did, and men rarely did it as lustily as a woman desired. It took another female to judge things right.

"Gnnnnh!" Martha squealed thinly as the fat tool sank in, pushing aside clenched anal muscles with impunity and burrowing deep. As Jennifer drew back her extension the rim of the woman's anus returned part way with it, gripping around its wide circumference and appearing like the pouting rectum of a horse.

She immediately slammed back in again and Mrs Clagget groaned helplessly.

"Perhaps I'll find time to visit you at home sometime," Jennifer murmured heatedly as she rushed towards an orgasm of her own. "I could spank Polly and yourself over the dining room table side by side, and maybe shag you both in the backside afterwards. Polly's ripe for it now, you know she is. You should let her try it."

 

When Trudy Jones went up the stairs after supper he heard the clatter of footfalls coming behind, and in the stairwell of the second floor he paused to see who was following.

"Are you trailing me, Charlotte?" he snapped grumpily.

"Not 'specially," Charley replied. He paused and blinked, then came on. "You're annoyed with me aren't you? You only ever call me Charlotte when you're annoyed with me."

Trudy waited until he was level then took a deep breath. "Who wouldn't be annoyed! I said I'd be you're best friend when you first came here but I've hardly seen you since. Whenever I look for you you're always going off with someone else. You've spent two nights with Abigail, two with Nanette and even Wendy who's a bit slow about things had you for one night. Just when does Miss Picky-Pants spare time for ordinary people?"

Charlie's sweet face contorted in a frown.

"I didn't intend to upset you but you know how things work. New boarders need to please the senior pupils in the first week or their lives can be made a misery.

Look, I'm supposed to spend this evening with that old faggot Hardwick, but I'll say I forgot. I'll give him a miss and come with you. He's as soft as soap and he'll forgive me if I'm nice to him tomorrow."

Trudy found it impossible to be angry with Charley for long. His smooth features and the pink glow in his cheeks were as enticing at that moment as they had been when he'd arrived in the big, swanky Mercedes a week earlier. Charlotte, or Charley as he'd opted to be called, was a dichotomy of rebel and Madonna who kept his origins obscure. He had yet to discover where he came from before meeting his friend Desmond, but he reckoned he'd probably been a rent-boy whom the man had scooped up and taken home to be a live-in fuck-toy.

Not so different to himself, he thought. He himself had been introduced to sex by his father when his dad had been become a member of a special sort of club in which men swapped sons for a Saturday night frolic.

Lovely, sweet, gorgeous Charlotte. So beautiful. A perfect panty-boy.

Prettier than any girl and very nearly as pretty as himself. Trudy's bad temper wilted into dreaminess. "Do you mean it? Do you really want to go with me?"

Charley moved closer and his smooth face and soft, velveteen lips hovered against Trudy's mouth. "Of course I do. I think about you all the time."

Trudy loved the seductive smile of anticipation on Charlie's face. His eyes became moist with girly excitement and his heart banged on his ribs as he enfolded him in his arms.

Then they kissed, mouths devouring lips, tongues intertwining in erotic promises. Belly to belly they rubbed together. Lively pink tongues dancing together briefly before their mouths melded in burning complicity. Trudy almost swooned at the taste of new sissy on his mouth and the feel of an unfamiliar body sliding and twisting in his embrace.

On an impulse he flipped up the back of Charlie's skirt and reached down

into the back of his panties to feel his luscious bottom

Their clinch would have been longer had it not been for the sound of other people coming up the stairs, and not wishing to risk relinquishing his new found amorous friend Trudy pulled Charley into a dark recess.

"It's only Sammy and Amanda." whispered Charley.

Trudy put a finger on his lips as two figures appeared in the stair well.

"Shush!"

Just returning from rehearsals with Hardwick's aerobics' dance team Sammy and Amanda were scantily clad. Just shoes and school blazers and the scraps of material assigned to their genitals as posing pouches. Each set of minuscule pants were bulging outward, completely failing to disguise the rampant shapes they contained which were almost bursting out from the little triangles of nylon.

Charley smirked. "Wow! I bet they've been stroking each other all the way up the stairs."

"Shhh!"

Unaware that they were being observed Sammy and Amanda exchanged some small exclamations then hugged each other intimately, rolling bare bodies together like houris' in a drug induced dream, toe to toe, belly to belly, nipple on nipple with tiny teats distended and nubbing one against the other. Enveloped in each others arms their painted mouths pressed forward, and as they kissed they stoked each others bottoms and hauled them forward so their pelvis's were able to jive one against the other.

There was much panting and squirming as their panty bulges scrapped up and down, and then they were groaning softly with girlish rapture into each others mouths as they spurted sticky gook in their panties and slithered the gooey wetness together.

Although thoroughly stirred by the illicit little show Trudy and Charley remained motionless until the other two sissies had calmed down and hurried on up the stairs. Then Charley produced a lipstick from the pocket of his skirt and smeared it on his mouth to make his lips full, pink and kissable. Do you want to undress me? Do you want to do it here or in the dormitory?"

Trudy's smile could have lit-up a light bulb. "Not here and not in the dormitory." he insisted "There's a junk room in the east-wing that can be made comfortable and no one will interrupt us there."

Together they scurried up to the top of the house and along the landing towards the east-wing. The only person to notice them passing was Jemima who was loitering in an open doorway.

"Where are you two going?" he piped.

"Don't be such a nosey-parker." Trudy told him scathingly, then he urged Charley on before anyone else appeared.

Beyond the Out-of-bounds notice the east-wing was silent, and threadbare carpeting, dark brown to match the woodwork, effectively muffled the sound of their feet.

Trudy thrust open the door to the box-room and switched on a light, one of the few lights in that part of the house still connected to the electricity supply.

"What is this place?" Charley asked when he entered and saw the clutter from bygone days heaped around the room.

"It's just a place for junk. All the stuff here are leftovers from people who used to live here in the past." explained Trudy as he unclipped the waistband of his skirt and let the garment fall. "No one ever comes here except matron, and she only uses it on Sundays." He smiled teasingly. "This evening I aim to use it as a honeymoon suit."

Following Trudy's example Charley slipped off his own skirt and revealed himself to be beautiful below the waist with smooth, girlish thighs. Within moments they had both opened his blouses and allowed them slide from their faultless young bodies. They were then clad only in tiny white bras and scanty white lace pants, pants that did nothing to conceal their real gender.

Smooth and perfect they unfastened the little bras and shook them off. Neither owned proper breasts but the sudden absence of an upper garment caused them both to caress their chest as they admired each others almost naked bodies with undisguised delight.

Trudy felt his nipples stiffen and a thrill like electricity flashed down to his penis and back again creating desire and instigating goose bumps. He had been impatiently waiting for a session with the new sissy for ages, but as was customary he'd had to wait for the senior sissy's to have him first. At last it was his turn, and suddenly he felt terribly aroused. The nearness of the beautiful, sweet smelling Charley had him yearning for relief. He was a very horny sissy who wanted to slot his girly-dick somewhere hot and tight soon.

The new boarder had a well-defined chest that showed off diminutive pectorals and lovely small nipples with distended teats. His limbs were sleek, almost effeminate with muscles that lacked excessive development, and he was completely devoid of body hair. If that tended to make him seem younger than he was it was countered by the bulge in his panties.

Trudy's own panties went down in a flurry of excitement, and anatomy that had been swollen and confined rose up to full potential with a brisk rub of a hand, then he shimmied over to his friend with his big stiffy swaying from side to side.

A smile of juvenile mischief flitted across Charlie's lips as he snaked his hips up and down in a solicitous wiggle.

"I hope I've got what you want."

Fully understanding the erotic nature of disrobing he allowed Trudy to slip his thumbs into the elastic of his knickers and tug them down. The soft, lacy panties fell as a wisp around his feet and Trudy was at last able to examine him properly. There was no doubt that Charley had everything that was required. When naked he was a handsome five foot of boyish beauty with glossy hair scraped back into a knotted plait that made him look vampish. And the newest, most desirable person in school had a five-star body, a beautiful bag of balls and five inches of fully erect quivering meat.

Trudy's eyes narrowed and he sidled against him with the easy indolence of a cat, taking him in his arms and pulling him forward. He knew Charlotte was a boy because he could feel a boys hot, stiff thing rubbing against him as they embraced, and without doubt Charley could feel his own. "Just you and me, you sexy bitch. I've been wanting to be alone with you ever since you first arrived."

Charlie's warm, brown eyes shone. "You're a naughty girl Trudy Jones, but

it's sweet of you to say that"

They kissed and rubbed their hard cocks together. Charley opened his mouth and Trudy went in with his tongue. Two beautiful hot bodied girls kissing each other, each with a beautiful, sissy-licious rammer swinging between her legs.

Trudy's hands searched for the contours of Charlie's chest and began caressing his breasts and twisting his nipples.

"I want to suck your tits, you gorgeous queen." he husked eventually.

His girly-friend at once presented his chest and pushed it forward. "Okay, but if you're going to bite don't do it hard."

While Trudy was occupied lapping and sucking his breasts Charley reached down to fondle his partners balls, squeezing them and coaxing them ever so gently before clutching his fingers around his rampant tool and sliding them up and down in a subtle milking motion to estimate its size and strength. The new pupil was clearly very experienced and utterly uninhibited and just like Trudy he was happy to be a top or bottom, but at that moment he was whimpering and ready, almost begging to be fucked.

"Will you be a girl for me tonight Charley?"

The other sissy giggled, then pouted solicitously. "That depends. Can you give a girl what she needs?"

"Let's go to bed and I'll prove I have. I'll make a little nest so we can lay down."

He took Charley by the hand and coaxed him to lay down with him on the padded platform he quickly arranged against the wall, then they each moved in for another kiss, full-lipped and passionate, mouths devouring lips, tongues sliding together and entwining.

At once they sank into an ecstasy of intimate touching, missing no spot that may provide for pleasure. Fingertips caressed the area of tender flesh inside elbows and behind knees and played on ribs and thighs while ceaselessly fondling nipples, balls and cocks.

"I love you." husked Trudy.

"I love you too." cooed Charley in return. "Don't be too quick with things.

I want to suck your dick so let's do some sixty-nine first."

"Okay. I'd like to taste yours too." Trudy replied,

The two little girls slumped down top to toe and closed their precious lips around the tip of each others cocks, taking in the entire cock head and the first two inches of the shaft.

Simultaneously they became lost in the delirium of lust, gluing their mouths around each others tender sissy prick-meat and skinning foreskins vigorously up and down, pushing them down until lips and tongues could stimulate the under-rim of the swollen tips.

For a few moments Charlie's tongue toyed with his friends unveiled head, then he slid the entire boner deep into his mouth and sawed at the firm flesh with his lips. At the same time he fondled Trudy's testicles with one hand whilst kneading the soft yielding flesh of his buttocks with the other. In answer to the lips sliding up and down his cock Trudy reached over his new friends hip and used his carefully manicured fingers to part the smooth, pink cheeks of Charlie's bottom. It was an opportunity to play with the pretty anus that was on a promise to him that evening.

For a while only the rasp of nasal breathing and an occasional 'mmmph!' squeezed out around mouthfuls of plump flesh were audible as each of them became consumed in rubbing, licking and pounding their mouth up and down. A stranger would have found it inconceivable that two such young lads could show such expertise in their sexual oscillations, but they would have been unaware that Fairyfield Grange by its very nature succoured the creme d'la creme of youthful perversity.

Their hips bucked into each others mouths, straining for the climax that threatened to arrive too soon.

"Don't make me cum before I've shagged you, you silly cow." Trudy eventually gasped.

He was anxious. He'd waited a long time for a session with the newest sissy and had anticipated trying everything.

He turned about and they both fell on their backs side by side, feeling and groping each other frantically.

"I couldn't help getting carried away when you started fiddling with my hole." Charley explained.

"You've got a lovely bum, and that's important here." said Trudy.

"There's oodles of nice bums at this school, I think it must be a qualification for coming here."

"Well, the ladies like to smack them a lot, and the other boys - well, you know what they like them for."

Their hands by then had become slick from the oozing juice of sexual excitement, but any further plans were shattered when the door trickled open and Jemima's small face peeped in.

"Ha! I knew this would be where you two would go." The young junior beamed brightly and stepped into the room to display his own nakedness. "Can I join in?"

The intruder sweet face was olive-shaped and vaguely mischievous, his throat was long, tapering out into perfect little shoulders that dropped away to a dainty body. He was wearing only little pants which didn't stay on more than a few seconds. His small but well-shaped piece of meat was already semi-hard, without any trace of hair around it and allowing a good view of his little pink bag. His bottom was also the epitome of what a little boys bum should be; small, round and firm, yet soft and pliable; pink and smooth and yielding to the fingers, and very importantly it had that indiscernible something that made it saucy.

Trudy's face twisted in fury. "No you can't. Piss-off you little cow, this is a private party."

To his annoyance Charley was less adamant about banning the interloper. "It's okay Trudy, I don't mind Jemima being here. He's rather a cute looking sugarplum, I can practically taste him from here."

Trudy gazed at him in dismay. "The little queen's a horror. He can't even do a proper jerk-off and he still goes to bed with a teddy-bear."

Young Jemima snorted. "Maybe I can't do a wetty yet, but I can do plenty of other things, and if you're going to be a grumpy guts Trudy Jones I won't let you get into my bed again for a whole year."

He strode bravely into the room and wiggled. "Look, if I sit between you I can play with you both."

When all his offer received was a scowl form Trudy who had banked on having Charley to himself that evening, he dumped himself on the blanket, keeping Charley between himself and the threat from ill temper. "You won't let Trudy bash me, will you Charlotte?"

Charley smiled. "That depends how good you are at stuff."

Immediately it became clear that Jemima was good at lots of things. He was obviously an eager little pantyboy hot-to-trot, because at once his small hand wrapped around his own young pussypoker and began to pump, gathering the loose skin up over the tip of the gland and then rapidly rolling it down. Within seconds his little rod was amazingly stiff, and it was extended enough for its tip to bounce against his tummy.

"Do you want me to play with you Charley?" he asked in a precocious voice, "Abigail says I've got a good wrist movement. You've got a lovely cock. It's big and solid and I bet millions of kids have sucked it in the past. I'll suck you if you want. Abigail says I've got a mouth like a Hoover."

"Throw the little pervert out." demanded Trudy.

Charley remained silent, not even answering the younger boy, but he signified approval of his company by cupping his balls in his hand. He then kissed Jemima on the mouth while running his hands over his flat belly and smooth limbs, marvelling at his naked elfin body whilst exploring the structure of bone and muscle beneath his skin. The cutie pie felt kisses on his belly, then his throbbing dickie was enveloped by a hot, wet mouth. Ohhhh! He loved that feeling, and he knew there was more to come.

"What else can you do?" Charley asked him at last. Jemima made pouty kissy-lips and turned away to roll onto his hip, pulling open his buttocks he make a show of the tight little pucker between. "D'yer wanna knob me?"

Charley grinned. "You're a shocking little squeezebox an' no mistake. What would your mother say if she could hear you talking like that?"

"Dunno, but she lets her boyfriends screw me sometimes, so she probably won't be very shocked. I say, who's got some lube?"

Charley turned his head. "Let's have some of yours Trudy."

Trudy's sour expression contorted. "I don't have any."

"Yes you do. I know you've got some KY in the pocket of your skirt. Don't be such a stingy sourpuss."

Trudy's temper erupted fitfully. "You're a bloody horror too Charlotte. You were ready to let me shag your arse a minute ago, and now all you want to do is screw Jemima."

"We can all do it together," insisted Charley, "You can shaft me while I'm getting stuck up this little ferret."

Oblivious to the arguing of the other two Jemima knelt on the blanket, knees and elbows on the floor, with his small scrotum sac on display. Then he looked back over his shoulder and purposely tantalised Charley by wiggling his bottom and inviting him to take the plunge. He had a gorgeous little bottom, and his pale pink, round balls were squeezed between his white thighs.

Sulkily, Trudy at last handed over the lubrication he'd brought with him, albeit reluctantly, and Charley paused to administer some to the swollen peg of his erection, then he smiled as he gripped the tube and squeezed a glob of its slick contents onto the pad of his middle finger and told Jemima to face away from him and relax.

Knowing that something nice was going to happen Jemima bent his arms at the elbow and pointed his little sissy fists up as he felt an oiled finger basting his cute little ring.

Moving closer to the youngster Charley pushed against his impeccable behind, nudging Jemima's knees apart and causing him to moan in anticipation. The little sissy's bottom arched higher, offering itself. Twisting up a bit Charley straggled the younger boys upturned rear. When Jemima boldly reached back and grasped his penis and guided it onto his slippery rosebud a bolt of electricity shot through Charlie's loins and at once he heaved forward to sink his erection into the tiny flexing circle of muscle.

As the bigger boy slumped forward against him Jemima's face and chest pushed down onto the blanket while his bottom lifted up again. There was a brief stilted silence, then Charlie's hips jerked as he delivered a sudden penetrating thrust that made Jemima groan.

"Ohhh, ohhhhh, hhmmmmm, ohhhh!"

Although the pixyish imp yelped when stiff flesh entered his little tushie he really seemed to like it. Encouraged, Charley moved his hips back and forth and began fucking, making the tight junior bum-ring expand to take more of his prick.

Jemima stoically accepted everything as it came, remaining still as the first few inches of cock opened up his narrow chute, then sinking his cheek against the blanket in preparation to taking the fullness of the entire shaft. He huffed and moaned as his little ring dimpled in and spread around a considerable length of stiff, forceful flesh.

He whimpered constantly but with pleasure, eager to be penetrated he pushed back as Charley rammed forward. In fact the little cutie-doll loved what Charley was doing so much he pushed up for more and more, squeezing Charlie's cock with his anal muscles and wanting to make it good for him too.

To make things even more interesting Charley began playing with his sweet, stiff pricklet, jerking the soft skin up and down in time with each firm thrust into his perfect pink bottom.

Observing the erotic tableau suddenly revitalised Trudy's ardour, and he was never content to be a mere observer.

He lathered his fingers with KY and shuffled up close behind Charley, carefully caressing the tender hole of the other boys anus while smearing on lubrication, then slowly he eased a finger in and felt the sphincter clench around it.

For a moment he was content to work the finger in and out and side to side while his other hand stroked his own cock, but finally, he oiled his own penis and positioned his cock-head on the focus of his desire. "Is that okay for you?" he asked breathlessly.

Charlie's flushed face was turned up towards him, eyes closed as he came to terms with the imminence of penetration.

"Oh yes. Come on Trudy. Come and get me!" he crooned. "Use me. Put your gorgeous throbber in my pussy. If you don't cum a big load I won't be happy. Give me a hard length."

Trudy knelt up, and holding Charlie's hips he pressed the head of his dick against his delightful 12-year-old pucker. Unceremoniously he eased back his foreskin and pushed firmly against his friends vulnerable opening, entering slowly and evenly until...

Ohhhh. It went in like a sword into its sheath. Trudy's prick had never been harder, and he never randier. It had been two whole days since he'd last had sex with anybody and suddenly he was fully installed and able to thrust solidly into the silky passage between Charlie's rosy well-spread arse-cheeks.

He was in sissyboy heaven. For a moment he ceased moving, savouring the walls of his friend's rectum massaging the length of his shaft, then lustfully he began plunged his stiff aching cock in and out of Charlie's hot, moist hole, loving the ripples of stimulation on his swollen flesh and the way his friend was squirming and working his arsehole open and closed.

They writhed together. Three young bodies linked together by shafts of swollen flesh, all trying to establish a rhythm and match each other stroke for stroke.

Trudy began moving faster, harder, his motions becoming jerkier, driving upwards, while Charley, his rampant stalk still pinned in Jemima's rectum, was helpless and being humped like a dog's bitch. Before his horny friend had complete control of him he did the right thing by Jemima and himself. With a loud groan he ejaculated and pumped strand after strand of swirling boy-cream into the younger sissy's tight anal pussy, humping him hard and noisily for as long as his cum kept spurting.

Trudy didn't fail to notice that - how could he? But he ignored it. His cock was in its tightest, happiest home, and he didn't care if it slipped out occasionally. Reinserting it only added to his elation. Every nerve in its length was enjoying delicious friction.

Charley was panting and gasping with happiness too, now happy to devote himself to the penis ranging up and down in his backside. Each thrust of his friends cock brushed onto his prostrate and sent him into a fizzing Technicolor world of wonder as it slid in and out with long thrusts, feeling like a bone as it smoothly moved back and forth.

Submerged in passion Trudy increased the tempo and worked his hips to and fro rhythmically and rapidly. It felt wonderful to have his hot, swollen organ totally surrounded by hot, moist girly arse hole, even more so because he'd lusted after Charley for so long.

Shunting movements shook Charlie's penis out from Jemima's backside and the junior took the opportunity to crawl out from beneath the copulating bodies and regain some breath. Then quite uninvited he humped up behind Trudy and shoved his randy young cherry-popper straight into the older boys open backside.

Trudy felt him swing his arms about his waist and push his thighs up tight, and he was pleasantly surprised at the industry the young sissy employed in pumping his small flute in and out.

"Hey, you're like a monkey on a stick Jemima, but that's not bad," he said, "Keep doing that until I finish myself."

Floating high on a cloud of euphoria, his previous bad temper now forgotten, Trudy allowed the junior pantywaist to fuck himself to a heady, dry climax, and when he heard his gay, little girly companion gasping and cumming, that set him off too.

His knees turned to jelly and he heaved forward mightily, cum jumping out from his cock to flood Charlie's insides with half a dozen big wads of sticky boygoo.

  

  

  

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