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Active Sissy Stories / Re: The Little Sisters of Gamma Delta
« Last post by sissyboy1212 on January 17, 2026, 11:12:53 AM »
Blunders and Mistakes
Nate was first up and nervously began his presentation. He quickly got a couple of dates confused and omitted key details on his chosen alumna’s roles in the sorority’s traditions. Brianna interrupted him with a sigh, “That’s not accurate, Nate. Did you check your sources?” Then, she added sharply, “You lose two points for lack of accuracy.”
As he continued, he was stopped again. Elise, sounding genuinely disappointed, posed the question, “Did you read anything outside the study booklet, Nate? These women are legends. You owe it to them to get the facts right!” Nate felt so exposed and vulnerable in his pretty tights and delicate blouse as his face turned red. He usually was prepared for his assignments, but they had been flooded with so many things so quickly that he hadn’t put in his normal effort… he hadn’t had time. To his dismay, he became strangely agitated under his confining dancer’s belt and tights as he got more flustered. He muttered a humiliated apology, but the damage was done; another point left the scoreboard. After another couple of minutes and more lost points, Nate’s presentation mercifully ended.
Julian went after Nate. As he was speaking, it was clear from their body language that the Sisters were still unhappy. Julian glanced at Owen helplessly, feeling the pressure mounting as Tara interrupted, “Julian, you’re just reading straight from the booklet. Didn’t you dig up anything new? We expect more than just the basics.” Her tone was sharper now, and several sisters exchanged knowing glances. Julian shuffled his feet nervously, feeling his skirt rustle against his tights.
As the flustered teen continued to stumble through his account of a famous alumna’s leadership, he next was interrupted by Brianna, who raised an eyebrow and asked, “Where did you even get that? That’s not in the notes.” Frustrated, she docked him a point. It would not be his last. He felt his face heat up.
The boys quickly understood their efforts were missing the mark. Each presentation seemed thinner than the last, and the sisters’ polite smiles began to fade, replaced with looks of mild irritation.
Owen was next, and he fared no better. His report was met with stony silence, until Tara finally broke it: “You know, a quick search would have told you so much more. This isn’t what Gamma Delta stands for.” The boys exchanged mortified glances.
Standing red-faced and slightly rattled in his adorable study outfit, he got his notes jumbled up. Elise tapped the table impatiently, “Owen, this is Gamma Delta’s legacy. Where’s the passion? Where are the stories that set our alumnae apart?” The other sissified boys all shifted in their seats as the room grew quieter and more tense.
The sisters grew more demanding, their voices firm and their expressions stern. Madison stood up, folding her arms. “We expect you to care about this. To be part of Gamma Delta, you need to show respect for those who came before.” The boys’ unease grew as the authority in the sisters’ voices made their own shortcomings painfully obvious.
Elise sighed, “Did any of you even try to dig a little deeper? This is your chance to show us you care about Gamma Delta’s legacy. Where are the stories, the interesting facts?” The feminized boys all flushed with embarrassment.
Tara, arms folded, chimed in with a disappointed shake of her head. “You’re supposed to go beyond what’s in your booklets. Did you even look anything up on your own?”
The sisters began docking points with increasing frequency. Milo’s segment on a celebrated Gamma Delta alumna contained only the most basic information, and Cassidy didn’t hesitate to announce, “Minus two for omitting any mention of her extensive scholarship work.”
As their presentations limped to a close, the boys exchanged worried glances, realizing they’d woefully underestimated the task. Tara finally spoke with a disappointed shake of her head, “Next time, we want effort. We want depth. You owe it to the women who built Gamma Delta.”
By the time the Alumna Spotlights were over, the damage was done. The Big Sisters made it clear that next time, they expected research, thoughtful preparation and a genuine appreciation for the traditions and stories that shaped Gamma Delta. The boys’ sorry record of points lost reflected the Sisters’ dissatisfaction. For the first time, they truly understood how easily their hard-earned points could fall away. It was becoming painfully clear that getting to 1000 would be daunting. The Little Darlings all sat meekly in their adorable study outfits and felt a sense of dread at whatever might come next.
Nate was first up and nervously began his presentation. He quickly got a couple of dates confused and omitted key details on his chosen alumna’s roles in the sorority’s traditions. Brianna interrupted him with a sigh, “That’s not accurate, Nate. Did you check your sources?” Then, she added sharply, “You lose two points for lack of accuracy.”
As he continued, he was stopped again. Elise, sounding genuinely disappointed, posed the question, “Did you read anything outside the study booklet, Nate? These women are legends. You owe it to them to get the facts right!” Nate felt so exposed and vulnerable in his pretty tights and delicate blouse as his face turned red. He usually was prepared for his assignments, but they had been flooded with so many things so quickly that he hadn’t put in his normal effort… he hadn’t had time. To his dismay, he became strangely agitated under his confining dancer’s belt and tights as he got more flustered. He muttered a humiliated apology, but the damage was done; another point left the scoreboard. After another couple of minutes and more lost points, Nate’s presentation mercifully ended.
Julian went after Nate. As he was speaking, it was clear from their body language that the Sisters were still unhappy. Julian glanced at Owen helplessly, feeling the pressure mounting as Tara interrupted, “Julian, you’re just reading straight from the booklet. Didn’t you dig up anything new? We expect more than just the basics.” Her tone was sharper now, and several sisters exchanged knowing glances. Julian shuffled his feet nervously, feeling his skirt rustle against his tights.
As the flustered teen continued to stumble through his account of a famous alumna’s leadership, he next was interrupted by Brianna, who raised an eyebrow and asked, “Where did you even get that? That’s not in the notes.” Frustrated, she docked him a point. It would not be his last. He felt his face heat up.
The boys quickly understood their efforts were missing the mark. Each presentation seemed thinner than the last, and the sisters’ polite smiles began to fade, replaced with looks of mild irritation.
Owen was next, and he fared no better. His report was met with stony silence, until Tara finally broke it: “You know, a quick search would have told you so much more. This isn’t what Gamma Delta stands for.” The boys exchanged mortified glances.
Standing red-faced and slightly rattled in his adorable study outfit, he got his notes jumbled up. Elise tapped the table impatiently, “Owen, this is Gamma Delta’s legacy. Where’s the passion? Where are the stories that set our alumnae apart?” The other sissified boys all shifted in their seats as the room grew quieter and more tense.
The sisters grew more demanding, their voices firm and their expressions stern. Madison stood up, folding her arms. “We expect you to care about this. To be part of Gamma Delta, you need to show respect for those who came before.” The boys’ unease grew as the authority in the sisters’ voices made their own shortcomings painfully obvious.
Elise sighed, “Did any of you even try to dig a little deeper? This is your chance to show us you care about Gamma Delta’s legacy. Where are the stories, the interesting facts?” The feminized boys all flushed with embarrassment.
Tara, arms folded, chimed in with a disappointed shake of her head. “You’re supposed to go beyond what’s in your booklets. Did you even look anything up on your own?”
The sisters began docking points with increasing frequency. Milo’s segment on a celebrated Gamma Delta alumna contained only the most basic information, and Cassidy didn’t hesitate to announce, “Minus two for omitting any mention of her extensive scholarship work.”
As their presentations limped to a close, the boys exchanged worried glances, realizing they’d woefully underestimated the task. Tara finally spoke with a disappointed shake of her head, “Next time, we want effort. We want depth. You owe it to the women who built Gamma Delta.”
By the time the Alumna Spotlights were over, the damage was done. The Big Sisters made it clear that next time, they expected research, thoughtful preparation and a genuine appreciation for the traditions and stories that shaped Gamma Delta. The boys’ sorry record of points lost reflected the Sisters’ dissatisfaction. For the first time, they truly understood how easily their hard-earned points could fall away. It was becoming painfully clear that getting to 1000 would be daunting. The Little Darlings all sat meekly in their adorable study outfits and felt a sense of dread at whatever might come next.
2
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on January 14, 2026, 04:50:52 PM »
Chapter 317.
Mrs Foster took Tim by the hand and led him into the kitchen.
“So you’re training to be a maid. You’ll be spending a lot of time in kitchens, then.”
“If I pass training, Mrs Foster…”
“Oh, don’t worry. You will. I’m going to give you a crash course. Me and the girls.”
“The girls…?”
“Don’t look surprised. They know all about maid training. They’ll look after you when I’m not here. You can trust them implicitly. Just follow their instructions in everything. They’re very good teachers. I trained them, after all…”
“I see…”
“Now, what would you like to eat? Relax and warm up, then we’ll go into the lounge and discuss the programme for the next few days.”
“Oh… I didn’t realise I was staying…”
“Yes, till the end of the week. The idea is to get you back on course. Now what do you like to drink? Milkshake? Chocolate, vanilla or strawberry?”
By the time he’d eaten, and they had repaired to the lounge, Tim was feeling a lot happier. Mrs Foster seemed really caring – so much nicer than some of the trainers at ESDS. But they had only been chatting for a few minutes when there was a ring at the bell. A few seconds later, Clara showed Sasha into the room. For a moment he thought she’d come to take him back. But his fears were quickly allayed.
“Hi Shirley… All right? Just come to drop off Mitzy’s clothes.”
She held up a large pink paper carrier bag.
Tim looked up expectantly. “My uniform?”
“No, Mitzy! We told you. Not till you improve. If Mrs Foster gives us good reports, maybe later in the week.” She rolled her eyes. “This is just a slightly nicer version of what you’re wearing now. There’s a towel, too, and some toiletries, and a couple of nighties. Oh, and a shoulder bag and some boots in case you go shopping.”
Tim looked alarmed.
“Go shopping?”
Mrs Foster smiled. “Say thank you to Sasha, Mitzy. How thoughtful of her.”
“Thank you, Miss Sasha…” he said, sulkily.
“Right. I’ll be off then. Be a good girl, Mitzy.”
“I’ll be in touch,” grinned Mrs Foster.
Mrs Foster took Tim by the hand and led him into the kitchen.
“So you’re training to be a maid. You’ll be spending a lot of time in kitchens, then.”
“If I pass training, Mrs Foster…”
“Oh, don’t worry. You will. I’m going to give you a crash course. Me and the girls.”
“The girls…?”
“Don’t look surprised. They know all about maid training. They’ll look after you when I’m not here. You can trust them implicitly. Just follow their instructions in everything. They’re very good teachers. I trained them, after all…”
“I see…”
“Now, what would you like to eat? Relax and warm up, then we’ll go into the lounge and discuss the programme for the next few days.”
“Oh… I didn’t realise I was staying…”
“Yes, till the end of the week. The idea is to get you back on course. Now what do you like to drink? Milkshake? Chocolate, vanilla or strawberry?”
By the time he’d eaten, and they had repaired to the lounge, Tim was feeling a lot happier. Mrs Foster seemed really caring – so much nicer than some of the trainers at ESDS. But they had only been chatting for a few minutes when there was a ring at the bell. A few seconds later, Clara showed Sasha into the room. For a moment he thought she’d come to take him back. But his fears were quickly allayed.
“Hi Shirley… All right? Just come to drop off Mitzy’s clothes.”
She held up a large pink paper carrier bag.
Tim looked up expectantly. “My uniform?”
“No, Mitzy! We told you. Not till you improve. If Mrs Foster gives us good reports, maybe later in the week.” She rolled her eyes. “This is just a slightly nicer version of what you’re wearing now. There’s a towel, too, and some toiletries, and a couple of nighties. Oh, and a shoulder bag and some boots in case you go shopping.”
Tim looked alarmed.
“Go shopping?”
Mrs Foster smiled. “Say thank you to Sasha, Mitzy. How thoughtful of her.”
“Thank you, Miss Sasha…” he said, sulkily.
“Right. I’ll be off then. Be a good girl, Mitzy.”
“I’ll be in touch,” grinned Mrs Foster.
3
Active Sissy Stories / Re: Tiffany's Date
« Last post by sissy servant 737-820-633 on January 13, 2026, 03:29:15 PM »
thanks for sending this story back to the top.. turns me on remembering a scene i had with my Mistress..
4
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on January 13, 2026, 02:21:46 PM »
Chapter 316.
ESDS and Mrs Foster had a long-term understanding. It had all started two years before, when a particularly difficult trainee had been sent off in his maid’s uniform to buy some coffee from the “corner shop”. There was no corner shop, so the poor boy had walked miles, and endured all sorts of humiliations, before he dared to turn round and come back. For some reason he had turned up the drive of the next house; perhaps he was confused, perhaps he wanted a drink of water. Whatever the case, Mrs Foster took him in, fed him, and listened to his story. As he related his experiences, his recruitment, training and disciplining, she grew more and more interested. He too was wearing a dog tag, so she rang ESDS and asked permission to let him stay with her till the next day. True to his training, she found him the most helpful and obliging servant, and he spent a day waiting on her and her daughter, who attended the nearby girls’ school. Long story short, she took over the remainder of his training, which lasted two weeks, and sent him back a proficient and finished maid. She did this using a mixture of kindness (when he worked well) and discipline (when he was careless or lazy). The kindness often involved she or her daughter Clara – or both together – administering physical gratification. The discipline was either applied with the aid of a whip or cane, or some ingenious form of humiliation.
Since then ESDS had been sending her recalcitrant trainees to knock into shape, in return for supplying her with a domestic whenever she needed one. It was a good arrangement for both. In house Shirley Foster was referred to in code as “the annexe”. She worked in the education department of the county council, and in view of her connections to ESDS it was safer not to refer to her by name. Clara and her friend Maggie also assisted, and kept their involvement a secret from their friends. They referred to their activities only as CMMT – Clara and Maggie’s Maid Training, and often attached this acronym to their personal belongings, much to the mystification of their friends. They were as, if not more, inventive than Clara’s mother, and consequently she gave them free rein in dealing with the subjects sent to her for correction. Moreover Clara drove and had her own little car, which was invaluable when mother was busy and one of the maids needed to be transported somewhere, usually for humiliation training – which the girls excelled at.
Poor Tim had no idea what awaited him. At first the lane was deserted. It curved away to the right, and every minute he expected to see the next-door neighbour’s house appear in view, but then the road straightened out and passed through open fields. Fearful of what might await him if he returned, he kept on walking. He could see that in about a quarter of a mile the fields gave way. On the right he could see a red brick house behind the trees. On the left… What was that? His heart froze. It looked like… Yes, a school! And he could see kids in blue uniforms issuing from its gate! No, please, he prayed, let me get to the house before…
There was only one pavement so he couldn’t cross over. Nearer the school was a bus shelter, and he could see girls heading towards it. He speeded up, but he was still a hundred yards or so short when the first little group arrived and took up residence. They’d already seen him – he could see them pointing and fiddling with their phones. He had no choice but to brazen it out. He pretended not to be fazed, even when they greeted him with a chorus of jibes and wolf whistles. He actually said “good afternoon, girls” to them as he passed, which he immediately regretted as all it produced was a howl of laughter and allowed them to photograph his face. Damn! He turned red and hurried on. But soon he was dodging through a tide of giggling schoolgirls who were flooding from the main gates of the Margaret Sanger School – he saw the name-board - onto the narrow pavement. He ignored the gasps and whispers and rude cries – and the clicking of shutters – as well as he could. But several of them deliberately bumped into him, and one of them accused him of touching her, called him a pervert, and tried to make a scene. He fled across the road, ran along the verge, and dashed into the driveway of the first house. This must be it. He made his way up to the house. He was about to ring the bell, when he heard a voice behind him. He turned. Shit! Two of them had followed him in!
“Leave me alone! I’m…er, visitin’ friends, ain’t I?”
“Really? I suppose you’re from ESDS,” said one, a girl with long brown hair and a rather grown-up manner. Does my mum know you’re coming?”
Her friend was looking at him with suppressed glee.
“Omg! What’s your name, sweetie?”
“I-I…was t-told to see Mrs Foster…” stammered Tim, flustered.
“That’s my mum,” said the girl with brown hair, with a smirk.
The blonde clapped her hands in delight. “Clara! We’ve got a new trainee! Yay!” She looked Tim up and down. “But why are you dressed like that… And how did you get here, cutie pie?”
“I w-walked…”
Blonde squealed. “You walked? Like that? Didn’t some of the girls see you?”
Tim’s eyes filled with tears.
“They did! Haha. Who sent you?”
“Miss Nicola…”
“Miss Nicola,” she mimicked. “And what did you do to upset Miss Nicola so much she sent you here like that?”
“I… I dropped a tray, and…”
But at that moment, the door opened and a woman stepped out, dressed in a smart grey suit.
“Hi, girls. And you must be Mitzy… I had a call to expect you.”
“Mitzy?” Blonde was almost speechless with delight.
“I’m Shirley Foster. Welcome, Mitzy. This is my daughter Clara, and her friend Maggie. Mitzy, I believe you have a message for me?”
“Y-yes, Mrs Foster. I have a p-problem… Thank you for agreeing to help…”
“My pleasure. Come in and let’s have a little chat, shall we…?”
ESDS and Mrs Foster had a long-term understanding. It had all started two years before, when a particularly difficult trainee had been sent off in his maid’s uniform to buy some coffee from the “corner shop”. There was no corner shop, so the poor boy had walked miles, and endured all sorts of humiliations, before he dared to turn round and come back. For some reason he had turned up the drive of the next house; perhaps he was confused, perhaps he wanted a drink of water. Whatever the case, Mrs Foster took him in, fed him, and listened to his story. As he related his experiences, his recruitment, training and disciplining, she grew more and more interested. He too was wearing a dog tag, so she rang ESDS and asked permission to let him stay with her till the next day. True to his training, she found him the most helpful and obliging servant, and he spent a day waiting on her and her daughter, who attended the nearby girls’ school. Long story short, she took over the remainder of his training, which lasted two weeks, and sent him back a proficient and finished maid. She did this using a mixture of kindness (when he worked well) and discipline (when he was careless or lazy). The kindness often involved she or her daughter Clara – or both together – administering physical gratification. The discipline was either applied with the aid of a whip or cane, or some ingenious form of humiliation.
Since then ESDS had been sending her recalcitrant trainees to knock into shape, in return for supplying her with a domestic whenever she needed one. It was a good arrangement for both. In house Shirley Foster was referred to in code as “the annexe”. She worked in the education department of the county council, and in view of her connections to ESDS it was safer not to refer to her by name. Clara and her friend Maggie also assisted, and kept their involvement a secret from their friends. They referred to their activities only as CMMT – Clara and Maggie’s Maid Training, and often attached this acronym to their personal belongings, much to the mystification of their friends. They were as, if not more, inventive than Clara’s mother, and consequently she gave them free rein in dealing with the subjects sent to her for correction. Moreover Clara drove and had her own little car, which was invaluable when mother was busy and one of the maids needed to be transported somewhere, usually for humiliation training – which the girls excelled at.
Poor Tim had no idea what awaited him. At first the lane was deserted. It curved away to the right, and every minute he expected to see the next-door neighbour’s house appear in view, but then the road straightened out and passed through open fields. Fearful of what might await him if he returned, he kept on walking. He could see that in about a quarter of a mile the fields gave way. On the right he could see a red brick house behind the trees. On the left… What was that? His heart froze. It looked like… Yes, a school! And he could see kids in blue uniforms issuing from its gate! No, please, he prayed, let me get to the house before…
There was only one pavement so he couldn’t cross over. Nearer the school was a bus shelter, and he could see girls heading towards it. He speeded up, but he was still a hundred yards or so short when the first little group arrived and took up residence. They’d already seen him – he could see them pointing and fiddling with their phones. He had no choice but to brazen it out. He pretended not to be fazed, even when they greeted him with a chorus of jibes and wolf whistles. He actually said “good afternoon, girls” to them as he passed, which he immediately regretted as all it produced was a howl of laughter and allowed them to photograph his face. Damn! He turned red and hurried on. But soon he was dodging through a tide of giggling schoolgirls who were flooding from the main gates of the Margaret Sanger School – he saw the name-board - onto the narrow pavement. He ignored the gasps and whispers and rude cries – and the clicking of shutters – as well as he could. But several of them deliberately bumped into him, and one of them accused him of touching her, called him a pervert, and tried to make a scene. He fled across the road, ran along the verge, and dashed into the driveway of the first house. This must be it. He made his way up to the house. He was about to ring the bell, when he heard a voice behind him. He turned. Shit! Two of them had followed him in!
“Leave me alone! I’m…er, visitin’ friends, ain’t I?”
“Really? I suppose you’re from ESDS,” said one, a girl with long brown hair and a rather grown-up manner. Does my mum know you’re coming?”
Her friend was looking at him with suppressed glee.
“Omg! What’s your name, sweetie?”
“I-I…was t-told to see Mrs Foster…” stammered Tim, flustered.
“That’s my mum,” said the girl with brown hair, with a smirk.
The blonde clapped her hands in delight. “Clara! We’ve got a new trainee! Yay!” She looked Tim up and down. “But why are you dressed like that… And how did you get here, cutie pie?”
“I w-walked…”
Blonde squealed. “You walked? Like that? Didn’t some of the girls see you?”
Tim’s eyes filled with tears.
“They did! Haha. Who sent you?”
“Miss Nicola…”
“Miss Nicola,” she mimicked. “And what did you do to upset Miss Nicola so much she sent you here like that?”
“I… I dropped a tray, and…”
But at that moment, the door opened and a woman stepped out, dressed in a smart grey suit.
“Hi, girls. And you must be Mitzy… I had a call to expect you.”
“Mitzy?” Blonde was almost speechless with delight.
“I’m Shirley Foster. Welcome, Mitzy. This is my daughter Clara, and her friend Maggie. Mitzy, I believe you have a message for me?”
“Y-yes, Mrs Foster. I have a p-problem… Thank you for agreeing to help…”
“My pleasure. Come in and let’s have a little chat, shall we…?”
5
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on January 13, 2026, 02:07:21 PM »
Chapter 316.
Monday morning. It had been a torrid night, the first for many days that Tim’s coc-k had been released from its confinement, and it had been celebrating its freedom. His alarm went at seven. He climbed out of bed and headed straight for the shower, which he took as cold as he could bear it. Even so, he had to struggle to pack himself away into his little panties. On went the tart costume, and he applied a little lip gloss and blusher as he had been taught. His eyes looked tired, so he put a some eye drops to make them sparkle and applied a touch of mascara. Doreen had unlocked his collar the night before, and now she arrived to lock it on again.
“There. All done. It really suits you, somehow.”
He gave her a look.
“Well, it does. Don’t make a face. It’s true. You look like a little subbie girl, and that’s just perfect for you.”
“I don’t!”
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that, Mitzy!”
“Sorry, miss…”
“You’d better not mess up today, you know that…”
“Yes, miss, I know…”
“Mrs Egerton isn’t the most patient of women… You’re in danger of becoming employed by ESDSS instead of ESDS.”
“ESDSS?”
“Egerton’s Special Domestic Slut Services. Look at yourself. Dressed like that you could end up one of the top earners…”
Tim looked alarmed, then laughed nervously.
“There’s no such thing…”
“No? I wouldn’t be too sure. I’ve heard them talking – her and Lucille. It’s kept very confidential. Small circle. I think Nicola’s part of it, too. Just warning you, Mitzy…”
The idea was hardly reassuring. Even so, Tim couldn’t bring himself to believe it. They wouldn’t stoop that low, he said to himself. I mean, a maid service is one thing… It’s fine for boys to wear nice latex uniforms and be maids, isn’t it? I didn’t realise how cool I could look… Not as cool as I’ll look when I’m a pageboy – a real pageboy – at the wedding. But cool enough. All I want is to be really good at it, and work for ladies that really appreciate me. I wouldn’t have to be down on my knees all the time, either… Well, sometimes, obviously, but… It makes me feel so good when they tell me how promising I am… Priscilla said that, didn’t she? She meant it too… So they wouldn’t keep me dressed like this, would they? Of course not…
Nevertheless he felt nervous for the rest of the morning. And it was this that made him drop the elevenses tray. Just when “mistress” had guests. Not real guests, but Margaret and Nicola acting as guests. He was mortified.
“Ladies… I’m really, really sorry… I’ll get it cleaned up at once.”
He dashed into the kitchen to fetch a bucket and cloths. As he was wetting the cloths he heard murmuring from the living room. He strained his ears.
“…send him to the annexe…”
“…depends what Cassandra decides….”
“….pretty cute in that outfit…put him in the special brochure…”
His hands were shaking as he placed the crockery carefully in the bucket and scrubbed away at the rug. Nicola rose from the sofa and stood watching him.
“Mitzy…” she said, “after lunch you’ll have a couple of hours extra practice waiting on us. Show us you can do it without dropping everything. Lucille will come in and observe, so you need to be aware of your deportment as well. Then I have an errand for you.”
“E-errand, miss?”
“Yes. I want you to give someone a message. Our next-door neighbour, Mrs Foster.”
“Mrs Foster… Yes, miss. Er…what is the message?”
“I want you to tell her you have a problem, and to thank her for agreeing to help.”
Tim looked up, not immediately understanding.
“Say it. I have a problem…”
“I-I h-have a problem…”
“Good. You remember the aitches. Well done. I have a problem. Thank you for agreeing to help.”
“I have a problem… Thank you for agreeing to help…”
“Excellent! She’ll understand. I spoke to her a few minutes ago.”
Tim finished cleaning the rug, had lunch, and returned at one. His waiting training went off without a hitch, and Lucille complimented him on his deportment. At just before three, Sasha called him over.
“You understand your errand?” asked Sasha.
“Y-yes…”
“Good there’s no more to be said. Shirley Foster lives in the next house along. Off you go, then. Turn right out of the drive.”
“B-but… Like this?”
“Of course, I told you,” said Priscilla. “You’ll be able to wear your maid’s outfit as soon as we consider you have attained a suitable standard.”
After he had left the house, Sasha thought of something.
“That’s a point,” she said. “He’ll need a change of clothes if he’s going to be there for a few days. I’ll drop them off tonight on my way out. We’ve got another slutty pink set in his size, I believe.”
“Oh, yes. That one’s got a high-necked cropped top. Actually it’ll be better. More appropriate for wearing outside.”
And they giggled like schoolgirls.
They watched him make his way nervously to the end of the drive. The road was a country lane with a narrow pavement running along the other side. Tim didn’t know it, but Mrs Foster’s house, “The Birches”, was a good half mile away. Priscilla looked at her watch.
“Three o’clock. The girls will be coming out of the Margaret Sanger School any time now.” She winked. “That should be an interesting encounter…”
Monday morning. It had been a torrid night, the first for many days that Tim’s coc-k had been released from its confinement, and it had been celebrating its freedom. His alarm went at seven. He climbed out of bed and headed straight for the shower, which he took as cold as he could bear it. Even so, he had to struggle to pack himself away into his little panties. On went the tart costume, and he applied a little lip gloss and blusher as he had been taught. His eyes looked tired, so he put a some eye drops to make them sparkle and applied a touch of mascara. Doreen had unlocked his collar the night before, and now she arrived to lock it on again.
“There. All done. It really suits you, somehow.”
He gave her a look.
“Well, it does. Don’t make a face. It’s true. You look like a little subbie girl, and that’s just perfect for you.”
“I don’t!”
“Don’t you dare speak to me like that, Mitzy!”
“Sorry, miss…”
“You’d better not mess up today, you know that…”
“Yes, miss, I know…”
“Mrs Egerton isn’t the most patient of women… You’re in danger of becoming employed by ESDSS instead of ESDS.”
“ESDSS?”
“Egerton’s Special Domestic Slut Services. Look at yourself. Dressed like that you could end up one of the top earners…”
Tim looked alarmed, then laughed nervously.
“There’s no such thing…”
“No? I wouldn’t be too sure. I’ve heard them talking – her and Lucille. It’s kept very confidential. Small circle. I think Nicola’s part of it, too. Just warning you, Mitzy…”
The idea was hardly reassuring. Even so, Tim couldn’t bring himself to believe it. They wouldn’t stoop that low, he said to himself. I mean, a maid service is one thing… It’s fine for boys to wear nice latex uniforms and be maids, isn’t it? I didn’t realise how cool I could look… Not as cool as I’ll look when I’m a pageboy – a real pageboy – at the wedding. But cool enough. All I want is to be really good at it, and work for ladies that really appreciate me. I wouldn’t have to be down on my knees all the time, either… Well, sometimes, obviously, but… It makes me feel so good when they tell me how promising I am… Priscilla said that, didn’t she? She meant it too… So they wouldn’t keep me dressed like this, would they? Of course not…
Nevertheless he felt nervous for the rest of the morning. And it was this that made him drop the elevenses tray. Just when “mistress” had guests. Not real guests, but Margaret and Nicola acting as guests. He was mortified.
“Ladies… I’m really, really sorry… I’ll get it cleaned up at once.”
He dashed into the kitchen to fetch a bucket and cloths. As he was wetting the cloths he heard murmuring from the living room. He strained his ears.
“…send him to the annexe…”
“…depends what Cassandra decides….”
“….pretty cute in that outfit…put him in the special brochure…”
His hands were shaking as he placed the crockery carefully in the bucket and scrubbed away at the rug. Nicola rose from the sofa and stood watching him.
“Mitzy…” she said, “after lunch you’ll have a couple of hours extra practice waiting on us. Show us you can do it without dropping everything. Lucille will come in and observe, so you need to be aware of your deportment as well. Then I have an errand for you.”
“E-errand, miss?”
“Yes. I want you to give someone a message. Our next-door neighbour, Mrs Foster.”
“Mrs Foster… Yes, miss. Er…what is the message?”
“I want you to tell her you have a problem, and to thank her for agreeing to help.”
Tim looked up, not immediately understanding.
“Say it. I have a problem…”
“I-I h-have a problem…”
“Good. You remember the aitches. Well done. I have a problem. Thank you for agreeing to help.”
“I have a problem… Thank you for agreeing to help…”
“Excellent! She’ll understand. I spoke to her a few minutes ago.”
Tim finished cleaning the rug, had lunch, and returned at one. His waiting training went off without a hitch, and Lucille complimented him on his deportment. At just before three, Sasha called him over.
“You understand your errand?” asked Sasha.
“Y-yes…”
“Good there’s no more to be said. Shirley Foster lives in the next house along. Off you go, then. Turn right out of the drive.”
“B-but… Like this?”
“Of course, I told you,” said Priscilla. “You’ll be able to wear your maid’s outfit as soon as we consider you have attained a suitable standard.”
After he had left the house, Sasha thought of something.
“That’s a point,” she said. “He’ll need a change of clothes if he’s going to be there for a few days. I’ll drop them off tonight on my way out. We’ve got another slutty pink set in his size, I believe.”
“Oh, yes. That one’s got a high-necked cropped top. Actually it’ll be better. More appropriate for wearing outside.”
And they giggled like schoolgirls.
They watched him make his way nervously to the end of the drive. The road was a country lane with a narrow pavement running along the other side. Tim didn’t know it, but Mrs Foster’s house, “The Birches”, was a good half mile away. Priscilla looked at her watch.
“Three o’clock. The girls will be coming out of the Margaret Sanger School any time now.” She winked. “That should be an interesting encounter…”
6
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on January 13, 2026, 11:15:00 AM »
Chapter 315.
He spent the evening in his new outfit, and was sent to bed at nine, like a naughty child. The girls resumed in the morning, but things didn’t improve very much. Mistress’s breakfast egg was hard, he forgot her orange juice, and served coffee instead of tea. He managed to do the wash correctly this time, but was so nervous about the ironing he was too scared to turn the iron up too high, and wasted an hour. In the afternoon he had lessons in washing-up, dusting and polishing furniture, and vacuum-cleaning. He was taught how to clean a bathroom, and how to clean mirrors and windows. He was instructed in the rights and wrongs of polishing brass and silver. But his technique in all of these necessary chores was found wanting. Indeed, the only thing he excelled at was cleaning and polishing shoes and boots.
“Well, Mitzy, there is something you can do well,” sighed Sasha. “But then, you have had a lot of practice. Don’t look so downcast. I’m not saying you’re incompetent. You’ve never done most of this stuff before, so obviously it’s going to take time. I think we just need to adjust your training schedule a little. I’ve asked Cassandra to have a word with Miss Poole and see if we can add a day here and there. Don’t worry! I'm sure you'll be able to start work for Mrs Brookshaw on schedule. You’re willing, and that’s all that matters.”
“But…miss, what about the…you know, the wedding…?”
“Oh, relax. You’ll be there. No-one’s going to deprive you of that. We’d never hear the last of it.”
Tim felt relieved. “I’m gonna work hard, miss. I really will…”
He was looking forward to changing out of his “tart” costume and going back to Pitt’s Wood that evening. But just before five Priscilla broke the news that Miss Poole had agreed an extra day’s training the following day, Monday.
“Miss? Will I be wearing my maid’s uniform tomorrow? I feel silly in this…”
“Silly? Really? You make such a convincing tart, we could put you on the streets and make a bit of extra dosh.”
“What?”
“Yeah, let’s do that,” said Sasha. “Let’s pimp him out. Men love those femboys better than real women. Did you know that, Tim? They’re not such a challenge. Look, it’s virtually dark now. Let’s take him downtown and see if we can get some business.”
“No! Please…”
The girls collapsed laughing.
“You were joking, weren’t you…?” asked Tim, uncertainly.
“Not entirely,” said Sasha. “We won’t do it tonight, but it’s always an option. I reckon we could charge at least fifty pounds a session… What do you think, Priscilla?”
“We’d have to take off his device… They wouldn’t take him with that on.”
“Right. Let’s do it. I’ll get the key.”
Now he was getting really worried. “Miss Priscilla… You wouldn’t really...would you…?”
“We’ll see… Ah, here we go…”
Sasha knelt, slipped down his little pink latex panties, and deftly removed his device. It was a physical relief, but his anxiety had increased several increments.
“I’ll work hard tomorrow, I promise.”
“Good,” she said, standing up. “You’re going to have to if you want your maid’s uniform back. And the longer you stay as Mitzy the Tart, the more likely we are to give in to the temptation to exploit that side of your talents. If Cassandra were here, I would be surprised if she hadn't already handed you over to one of those unsavoury women’s groups she knows. They pay more than our customers pay for a maid… And for a little cutie like you…”
Tim gulped, and gripped the hem of his skirt. He could totally believe it. These ladies were capable of anything. Especially that Cassandra…
He spent the evening in his new outfit, and was sent to bed at nine, like a naughty child. The girls resumed in the morning, but things didn’t improve very much. Mistress’s breakfast egg was hard, he forgot her orange juice, and served coffee instead of tea. He managed to do the wash correctly this time, but was so nervous about the ironing he was too scared to turn the iron up too high, and wasted an hour. In the afternoon he had lessons in washing-up, dusting and polishing furniture, and vacuum-cleaning. He was taught how to clean a bathroom, and how to clean mirrors and windows. He was instructed in the rights and wrongs of polishing brass and silver. But his technique in all of these necessary chores was found wanting. Indeed, the only thing he excelled at was cleaning and polishing shoes and boots.
“Well, Mitzy, there is something you can do well,” sighed Sasha. “But then, you have had a lot of practice. Don’t look so downcast. I’m not saying you’re incompetent. You’ve never done most of this stuff before, so obviously it’s going to take time. I think we just need to adjust your training schedule a little. I’ve asked Cassandra to have a word with Miss Poole and see if we can add a day here and there. Don’t worry! I'm sure you'll be able to start work for Mrs Brookshaw on schedule. You’re willing, and that’s all that matters.”
“But…miss, what about the…you know, the wedding…?”
“Oh, relax. You’ll be there. No-one’s going to deprive you of that. We’d never hear the last of it.”
Tim felt relieved. “I’m gonna work hard, miss. I really will…”
He was looking forward to changing out of his “tart” costume and going back to Pitt’s Wood that evening. But just before five Priscilla broke the news that Miss Poole had agreed an extra day’s training the following day, Monday.
“Miss? Will I be wearing my maid’s uniform tomorrow? I feel silly in this…”
“Silly? Really? You make such a convincing tart, we could put you on the streets and make a bit of extra dosh.”
“What?”
“Yeah, let’s do that,” said Sasha. “Let’s pimp him out. Men love those femboys better than real women. Did you know that, Tim? They’re not such a challenge. Look, it’s virtually dark now. Let’s take him downtown and see if we can get some business.”
“No! Please…”
The girls collapsed laughing.
“You were joking, weren’t you…?” asked Tim, uncertainly.
“Not entirely,” said Sasha. “We won’t do it tonight, but it’s always an option. I reckon we could charge at least fifty pounds a session… What do you think, Priscilla?”
“We’d have to take off his device… They wouldn’t take him with that on.”
“Right. Let’s do it. I’ll get the key.”
Now he was getting really worried. “Miss Priscilla… You wouldn’t really...would you…?”
“We’ll see… Ah, here we go…”
Sasha knelt, slipped down his little pink latex panties, and deftly removed his device. It was a physical relief, but his anxiety had increased several increments.
“I’ll work hard tomorrow, I promise.”
“Good,” she said, standing up. “You’re going to have to if you want your maid’s uniform back. And the longer you stay as Mitzy the Tart, the more likely we are to give in to the temptation to exploit that side of your talents. If Cassandra were here, I would be surprised if she hadn't already handed you over to one of those unsavoury women’s groups she knows. They pay more than our customers pay for a maid… And for a little cutie like you…”
Tim gulped, and gripped the hem of his skirt. He could totally believe it. These ladies were capable of anything. Especially that Cassandra…
7
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on January 12, 2026, 02:35:52 PM »
Chapter 314.
It was a great start. Unfortunately, after lunch, things started to go awry. The first mistake involved the mistress’s washing. He was sent to the laundry room to do a batch of laundry. Not only did he put in a top that stated on the label, “wash separately”, but he used the wrong wash cycle, at forty instead of thirty degrees! It was not something you could expect a boy to be conversant with, but Sasha and Priscilla had decided to put him to the test, to find out just how much he really knew about keeping house. The answer was…very little. Bobby would have been fine – he understood the basics of these things - but Tim, through his assumed macho personality, had rebuffed all his mother’s attempts to educate him in domestic matters, and would now pay the price. The women were naturally furious that he had wrecked a full load of clothing. But after that, things only got worse. He was made to hang everything up on a dryer in the airing room – they weren’t about to let him get away with using the tumble dryer – and after an hour or so they set him to ironing.
He produced skirts with creases where they’d never had creases before; blouses more crumpled than they’d appeared before he started; polyester garments with stiff, melted patches; and sheets with burn-marks! This was clearly an area in which he needed some intensive tuition. But it was too late to embark on that today. The only lesson they could teach him was to be more careful.
“Mitzy, you started off so well. Now look at what you’ve done!”
“I’m sorry, Miss Priscilla. I didn’t mean to…”
“I should hope you didn’t! Well, we’ll deal with it tomorrow. But of course you’ll have to be punished. Don’t look so surprised! Anyone you work for will punish you for mistakes. That goes without saying. It’s a lesson you have to learn right from the start. Now, Sasha, what do you think…?”
Tim was panicking. “Not the whip, please miss…!”
“No, that’s not appropriate. We like to use appropriate penalties.”
He looked nervous. “Appropriate…?”
“Yes,” said Sasha. “You damaged the mistresses clothes, so now she can’t wear them, so we’ll pay you back by taking away yours. Oh, don’t look so worried, silly. You won’t be naked. What do you think, Priscilla? Fairy? Ballerina?”
“No, too nice. Too sweet. He’s not fit for a fairy castle, or a beautiful stage set. Only for the streets, I think. So how about…tart?”
“Tart! Excellent idea. He’ll make a perfect tart. What do you think, Mitzy? Would you like to be a tart for the rest of the day?”
“And for the whole of tomorrow, if you fuc-k up again in the morning…”
“Wha…?”
“Follow us.”
The women led him back to the bedroom where he has got dressed that very morning. He was relieved of his uniform, and given something much less refined to wear: a pink latex ensemble consisting of a bra top and a rara skirt over a suspender belt and stockings, and a studded leather collar with an ESDS dogtag hanging from it, complete with phone number.
“In case you get lost, or abducted,” remarked Sasha, blandly.
“Perfect, Priscilla,” said Sasha, maliciously. “Let’s take a few snaps outside. Come on, Mitzy.”
They took a hand each, and led him out into the back garden.
“I-it’s cold…” he whimpered.
“Well we can warm up your bottom if you’d prefer it…”
“N-no, thank you miss…”
It was a great start. Unfortunately, after lunch, things started to go awry. The first mistake involved the mistress’s washing. He was sent to the laundry room to do a batch of laundry. Not only did he put in a top that stated on the label, “wash separately”, but he used the wrong wash cycle, at forty instead of thirty degrees! It was not something you could expect a boy to be conversant with, but Sasha and Priscilla had decided to put him to the test, to find out just how much he really knew about keeping house. The answer was…very little. Bobby would have been fine – he understood the basics of these things - but Tim, through his assumed macho personality, had rebuffed all his mother’s attempts to educate him in domestic matters, and would now pay the price. The women were naturally furious that he had wrecked a full load of clothing. But after that, things only got worse. He was made to hang everything up on a dryer in the airing room – they weren’t about to let him get away with using the tumble dryer – and after an hour or so they set him to ironing.
He produced skirts with creases where they’d never had creases before; blouses more crumpled than they’d appeared before he started; polyester garments with stiff, melted patches; and sheets with burn-marks! This was clearly an area in which he needed some intensive tuition. But it was too late to embark on that today. The only lesson they could teach him was to be more careful.
“Mitzy, you started off so well. Now look at what you’ve done!”
“I’m sorry, Miss Priscilla. I didn’t mean to…”
“I should hope you didn’t! Well, we’ll deal with it tomorrow. But of course you’ll have to be punished. Don’t look so surprised! Anyone you work for will punish you for mistakes. That goes without saying. It’s a lesson you have to learn right from the start. Now, Sasha, what do you think…?”
Tim was panicking. “Not the whip, please miss…!”
“No, that’s not appropriate. We like to use appropriate penalties.”
He looked nervous. “Appropriate…?”
“Yes,” said Sasha. “You damaged the mistresses clothes, so now she can’t wear them, so we’ll pay you back by taking away yours. Oh, don’t look so worried, silly. You won’t be naked. What do you think, Priscilla? Fairy? Ballerina?”
“No, too nice. Too sweet. He’s not fit for a fairy castle, or a beautiful stage set. Only for the streets, I think. So how about…tart?”
“Tart! Excellent idea. He’ll make a perfect tart. What do you think, Mitzy? Would you like to be a tart for the rest of the day?”
“And for the whole of tomorrow, if you fuc-k up again in the morning…”
“Wha…?”
“Follow us.”
The women led him back to the bedroom where he has got dressed that very morning. He was relieved of his uniform, and given something much less refined to wear: a pink latex ensemble consisting of a bra top and a rara skirt over a suspender belt and stockings, and a studded leather collar with an ESDS dogtag hanging from it, complete with phone number.
“In case you get lost, or abducted,” remarked Sasha, blandly.
“Perfect, Priscilla,” said Sasha, maliciously. “Let’s take a few snaps outside. Come on, Mitzy.”
They took a hand each, and led him out into the back garden.
“I-it’s cold…” he whimpered.
“Well we can warm up your bottom if you’d prefer it…”
“N-no, thank you miss…”
8
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on January 12, 2026, 02:21:00 PM »
Chapter 313.
But Thomasina wasn’t the only one being collared. Whilst she was entertaining at Emily’s party, Tim was recovering from Saturday’s maid training. Priscilla and Sasha worked together, since their specialities were so closely interlinked. Sasha taught household duties, Priscilla obedience and discipline. Priscilla played the role of the mistress, Sasha supervised his tasks. Training started at nine o’clock on the dot. They chucked him in the deep end.
“Mitzy?” said Sasha, reclining in an armchair pulled up to the dining-table. “Coffee. My best cup. Use the cafetiere. Single cream on the side.”
Tim looked uncertain.
“Well? Off you go. Quickly!”
“Go on, idiot,” hissed Priscilla. “Don’t stand there. Mistress wants her coffee.”
Tim was about to ask a question, when a glare from Priscilla changed his mind. He scurried into the kitchen, latex outfit rustling. Priscilla followed.
“’Ow … I mean how do I know what’s ‘er, that’s to say her, favourite cup?”
“Well you should have asked her, shouldn’t you? The first time you’re allowed to ask, after that you must remember.”
“Oh… I see…”
He hesitated, then bravely returned to the living-room door.
“Er…miss? I’m sorry… I forgot to ask which one is your fav’rite cup…”
“It’s the bone-china one with green vines around the side, Mitzy.”
“Fank… Thank you, miss…”
“Good girl.”
He returned to the kitchen. He had already learned a lot about coffee from Margaret, and knew how to heat the water to the correct temperature, not boiling, what was strong and what was weak, and so on. He examined the packet.
“Strength three… Hmm. I don’t know exac’ly how she likes it, but she uses three, so she wouldn’t like it too strong. I’ll use enough for medium strength.”
“Good, Mitzy. Very good…”
“There’s little silver jugs here. Perfec’ for cream…”
Five minutes later he stepped lightly into the living-room, carrying everything on a tray. Not only had he brought the coffee, but on his own initiative a plate with a selection of sweet biscuits he’d found in the food cupboard. He placed it on the table, then put down the tray and carefully poured a cup of coffee – about two-thirds full, as Margaret had taught him, and picked up the cream jug.
“Would you like cream, miss?”
“Thank you, Mitzy. Just a little.”
He added cream until she nodded. Then stood back, inclined his head politely, and retired.
“Did I do all right?” he asked Priscilla.
“Very well,” she smiled. “That was almost pitch perfect. Very promising for a first task. You really could become one of our top maids if you carry on like that.”
Priscilla wasn’t joking, or praising him for nothing. She could see he had great potential. And he was obviously proud of himself. He blushed a little, and smoothed down his skirt.
“Really? Do you fink so?”
“Do I…?”
“Sorry, Miss Priscilla. Do you really think so?”
“I do. You seem to understand your role very well., And now you’ve had your hair done, and with the makeup, in that lovely uniform, you look so pretty… I can see you being very popular. But you must attend to your training, and really dedicate yourself to being a maid.”
“I will! I promise!”
She smiled, and patted his cheek. He had seemed rather rough and sulky when she first laid eyes on him. But now… What a change. He seemed genuinely enthusiastic.
Indeed he was. He was loving the attention, and being surrounded by girls and women. So much so, that the macho side of him – which, to tell truth, had only ever been superficial, a sort of act to help him survive at school – was already dissolving in his own vanity, and the delicate pleasures of soft feminine clothing, and such trivialities as manicured, prettily-painted nails and shiny lip gloss.
“Priscilla…?”
“Yes, Mitzy?”
“Are we allowed to wear jewellery?”
“Well you have several pairs of nice earrings….”
“Do you think I might wear a necklace sometimes? Or a bangle?”
“We encourage our maids to wear modest jewellery, provided the mistress you are employed by has no objection. Normally they won’t. Why? What were you thinking?”
“Dunno… I saw Teri ‘ad – had – a really pretty choker…”
“Oh, that’s so sweet… I’ll have a word with Doreen, okay? She’s in charge of accessories. I’m sure she’ll find you something you like…”
“Thank you so much, miss…!”
But Thomasina wasn’t the only one being collared. Whilst she was entertaining at Emily’s party, Tim was recovering from Saturday’s maid training. Priscilla and Sasha worked together, since their specialities were so closely interlinked. Sasha taught household duties, Priscilla obedience and discipline. Priscilla played the role of the mistress, Sasha supervised his tasks. Training started at nine o’clock on the dot. They chucked him in the deep end.
“Mitzy?” said Sasha, reclining in an armchair pulled up to the dining-table. “Coffee. My best cup. Use the cafetiere. Single cream on the side.”
Tim looked uncertain.
“Well? Off you go. Quickly!”
“Go on, idiot,” hissed Priscilla. “Don’t stand there. Mistress wants her coffee.”
Tim was about to ask a question, when a glare from Priscilla changed his mind. He scurried into the kitchen, latex outfit rustling. Priscilla followed.
“’Ow … I mean how do I know what’s ‘er, that’s to say her, favourite cup?”
“Well you should have asked her, shouldn’t you? The first time you’re allowed to ask, after that you must remember.”
“Oh… I see…”
He hesitated, then bravely returned to the living-room door.
“Er…miss? I’m sorry… I forgot to ask which one is your fav’rite cup…”
“It’s the bone-china one with green vines around the side, Mitzy.”
“Fank… Thank you, miss…”
“Good girl.”
He returned to the kitchen. He had already learned a lot about coffee from Margaret, and knew how to heat the water to the correct temperature, not boiling, what was strong and what was weak, and so on. He examined the packet.
“Strength three… Hmm. I don’t know exac’ly how she likes it, but she uses three, so she wouldn’t like it too strong. I’ll use enough for medium strength.”
“Good, Mitzy. Very good…”
“There’s little silver jugs here. Perfec’ for cream…”
Five minutes later he stepped lightly into the living-room, carrying everything on a tray. Not only had he brought the coffee, but on his own initiative a plate with a selection of sweet biscuits he’d found in the food cupboard. He placed it on the table, then put down the tray and carefully poured a cup of coffee – about two-thirds full, as Margaret had taught him, and picked up the cream jug.
“Would you like cream, miss?”
“Thank you, Mitzy. Just a little.”
He added cream until she nodded. Then stood back, inclined his head politely, and retired.
“Did I do all right?” he asked Priscilla.
“Very well,” she smiled. “That was almost pitch perfect. Very promising for a first task. You really could become one of our top maids if you carry on like that.”
Priscilla wasn’t joking, or praising him for nothing. She could see he had great potential. And he was obviously proud of himself. He blushed a little, and smoothed down his skirt.
“Really? Do you fink so?”
“Do I…?”
“Sorry, Miss Priscilla. Do you really think so?”
“I do. You seem to understand your role very well., And now you’ve had your hair done, and with the makeup, in that lovely uniform, you look so pretty… I can see you being very popular. But you must attend to your training, and really dedicate yourself to being a maid.”
“I will! I promise!”
She smiled, and patted his cheek. He had seemed rather rough and sulky when she first laid eyes on him. But now… What a change. He seemed genuinely enthusiastic.
Indeed he was. He was loving the attention, and being surrounded by girls and women. So much so, that the macho side of him – which, to tell truth, had only ever been superficial, a sort of act to help him survive at school – was already dissolving in his own vanity, and the delicate pleasures of soft feminine clothing, and such trivialities as manicured, prettily-painted nails and shiny lip gloss.
“Priscilla…?”
“Yes, Mitzy?”
“Are we allowed to wear jewellery?”
“Well you have several pairs of nice earrings….”
“Do you think I might wear a necklace sometimes? Or a bangle?”
“We encourage our maids to wear modest jewellery, provided the mistress you are employed by has no objection. Normally they won’t. Why? What were you thinking?”
“Dunno… I saw Teri ‘ad – had – a really pretty choker…”
“Oh, that’s so sweet… I’ll have a word with Doreen, okay? She’s in charge of accessories. I’m sure she’ll find you something you like…”
“Thank you so much, miss…!”
9
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on January 12, 2026, 02:12:39 PM »
Chapter 312.
She slid her mouth over the head. It was hotter than she’d imagined, and bigger – it filled her mouth. Kelly murmured with satisfaction. This was going to make a pretty hot flick. Stefan’s head sank back, resting on the sofa cushion. With his eyes half closed he looked as if her were asleep, but he could see Thomasina’s head bobbing regularly up and down quite clearly. He liked the way her mouth elongated every time she drew back, her shiny red lips sticking to the shaft of his pen-is. And the feeling! If it were true this was her first time… The thought…! He had to bite his lip to calm himself.
Emily had squatted down, and was slowly stroking Thomasina’s back, an apparent gesture of support and encouragement – and perhaps an opportunity to get closer to the action. If Thomasina had had a choice, this was definitely not something she would have embarked upon. She had seen women doing this in pornographic videos, and it had rather disgusted her. “Yuk! How can they do that?” she had once remarked to Caroline. In the event, she found the experience not only pleasant, but even exciting, despite her apathic view of men. Stefan was sort of cute, his coc-k was nice and straight and smooth, and his love-juice (that’s what she called it in her mind) was slippery and nice-tasting. She liked the feeling of it trickling down her throat, and began to think herself very mature and grown up to have discovered this new talent so spontaneously. She must be impressing her audience – Emily behind her, Kim and Robert somewhere to her left, and Kelly at the far end of the sofa. She could just see her out of the corner of her right eye. She was determined to give them a good show. And to play to the camera. It was good her hair was tied back, so that Kelly would have a clear shot. The thought made her shiver with excitement. She relished the idea of them all watching it afterwards. Maybe they’d still be watching it months from now. Maybe…some of them would even masturbate over it! Oh, god, imagine… The thought that at any time, one of them might be jerking off over her. Roger… He would, definitely! Would Kim be jealous? Annoyed? Yeah, she’d be livid. One day she’d catch him at it. Grounds for divorce… Yes, she’d divorce him, and he’d come crying to her for consolation…and maybe begging for sex… She giggled silently.
Stefan was moaning now. The rest of the room was quiet, tense, almost electric. She thought she’d better generate a little sound too, so she groaned a little, slurped, and raised her head. It was so pretty, with the pink inner bit peeping out from the foreskin. She pushed the foreskin down, and regarded the bloated, shiny glans. She licked it like a lollipop for a minute, tickling the underside with the tip of her tongue, looking at it innocently, with wide eyes, like she’d never seen one before, let alone... He’d squirmed when she did that! That must be the sensitive spot. She popped it back in, and started using her tongue on the same place. He gasped and moaned. Oh, it was. She’d use that when she was ready for him to c-um, but for now she just wanted to enjoy the feeling of being watched, kneeling there all prim and polite with a stiff coc-k between her glossy scarlet lips, acting like the slut she was for all to see! She had never felt quite so alive.
The pulses of the dil-do felt good. They kept her at a high pitch of arousal, but by concentrating she was still able to stave off an orgasm, allowing her to enjoy wallowing in her degradation. Thank goodness Caroline was out of the way. She would have felt inhibited by her presence, not least because she was rarely capable of keeping a secret, and this was something that needed to be kept within this small social circle. She liked Caroline as a friend. She was fun. Though she was in Thomasina’s year she looked a couple of years younger. Last year she had dressed up in one of Thomasina’s party dresses from when she was about twelve, and they had wandered around in the village smoking those fake cigarettes, watching everyone staring at them in horror. But it was better she didn’t find out any more about Thomasina’s sexual tastes.
Kim and Roger had been standing back, but they had slowly moved in closer to the action. She could just see out of the corner of her eye that they were holding hands tightly, and it seemed to her that Roger was playing with himself just out of her field of vision. She hoped he was. If so, it confirmed her intuition about him. Emily’s hand had been moving lower and lower on her back, till she was stroking her bum. But now it slipped between her legs, and her fingers were toying with the base of her dil-do. She wasn’t surprised, having sussed her relationship with Hilda right from the start. In any case she’d suspected it from her ill-disguised interest in her.
“Go for it, Emily Laidlaw…” she thought. “I bet you’d like to make a threesome with me…”
But at that same moment Emily leant forward and whispered in her ear.
“Are you as good as this with pussy, Thomasina…?”
Without hesitating, Thomasina pulled Stefan’s coc-k out of her mouth, and whispered back.
“Yes, Miss Laidlaw. I like pussy much better, in fact. Pussy or pussies…”
She was almost shocked at herself, but she was enjoying being a total slut, and in any case she meant it. Emily was obviously taken aback by such a prompt reply, because she forgot to keep stroking for a few seconds - but then continued with enthusiasm, pressing a finger against the base of the dil-do and rotating it, making Thomasina thrill with pleasure. With that sort of attention she couldn’t hold out much longer. In any case, Stefan was no better. He’d been slowly sliding down on the sofa, until his bottom was resting on the front edge of the cushion, and his feet were either side of Thomasina’s calves. He was moaning and pleading..
“Thomasina, please… I can’t hold on much longer…”
How sweet, she thought. He was asking her permission! Okay, granted. She moved her hands to his forearms and pinioned them against the back of the sofa, braced herself, and thrust the point of her tongue into the cleft underneath the glans, raking it up and down. The response was immediate and spectacular. His back arched, he cried out, and then she was almost choking on his c-um, which was filling her mouth faster than she could swallow, overflowing from her stretched lips and cascading down her chin. She had only two ideas; first, give Stefan the best orgasm he’d ever had, to which end she employed her tongue as vigorously as she could, using her teeth to hold him in place; second, to make it last, a fitting climax to her performance. As it turned out, there was a bonus. Roger groaned loudly, and let fly over the left side of her face. Glancing up, Stefan’s coc-k still in her mouth, Thomsina saw that the fingers curled around his erection were Kim’s, and that, with an evil expression on her face, she was aiming it straight at her! Even as she registered this, the next spurt of warm c-um hit her cheek and the side of her nose. Surprise temporarily derailed her orgasm, so she waited for both men to finish. In the meantime Kelly had adjusted her position so take in Roger’s contribution to the tableau, and was now filming from the back of the sofa. Thomasina, still trembling on the brink, allowed Stefan’s softening coc-k to slip from her mouth, and looked brazenly into the lens.
“Wait!” cried Kim. She had let go of her partner’s coc-k, and was rummaging in her handbag. “One last thing!”
She produced a lipstick, took off the cap, and taking Thomasina by the ponytail, turned her head. Then she wrote something with the lipstick across her forehead, the only area of her face not dripping with c-um.
“Show the camera, sweetie… Kelly, take a few stills, too…”
Kelly filmed for another thirty seconds or so, and took a few snaps, whilst Thomasina cleaned her slimy lips as best she could with her tongue. Kelly briefly turned her phone round to show one to the star of the film. The caption was as predictable as it was undeniable: “c-umSLUT”. Then she reverted to video.
It was the sight of this image, with the bold red letters above and the strings of semen hanging from her cheeks and nose, that finally tipped Thomasina into orgasm.
“Oh…fuc-k…”
She shuddered and gasped. Lights swirled before her eyes. Waves of intense almost unbearable pleasure racked her body. She felt weak, out of control. She grabbed the edge of the sofa cushion for support, and allowed her head to rest on Stefan’s thigh. It was a full minute before she gradually began to recover, still twitching from the aftershocks. She knelt back on her haunches and looked down at her sperm-spattered suit. She touched her cheek; it was slimy and sticky. She was exhausted, but sated and at peace. Everyone in the room was chattering and laughing. She looked around. Stefan was slumped on the sofa, drained but patently happy. Emily mimicked applause, smiling approval and clapping her hands silently. Her first instinct was to imagine she had done something clever – endeared herself to her new friends. But as she slowly emerged from her state of sexual euphoria, it began to dawn on her that, for a mere few minutes of the most intense pleasure she had ever experienced, she had paid a huge price. Now all these people, people whom she hardly knew and whose intentions remained a closed book, had witnessed her abase herself utterly, bare her inmost and most secret desires. And she had let them record every second. Let them? No, she had revelled in the idea. She shivered. How on earth could she have done those things? It was as if she had been possessed. She looked up at Kim, standing beside her. Roger had retired, and she was alone, wiping her hands on a tissue. She returned a smug smile.
“Well done, puppy. What an exhibition. I think you’ve earned a collar and tag. What do you think, Kelly?”
“I agree. A pretty studded collar. What name shall we call her?”
Kim looked thoughtful. “I mean, c-umslut would be appropriate, but it’s a bit of a cliché. How about… Suki? I mean, it says the same thing, really…”
“Perfect! Suki it is. I’ll order Suki her new collar, then. Suki, darling… come back next week and we’ll fit it for you. All right?”
Thomasina laughed nervously.
“Oh, we’re not joking, dear,” said Emily, a slight edge in her tone. “I’ll bring you. We won’t need Caroline. Just you.” And in the meantime you and I can go see Cynthia again… Wednesday okay?”
She slid her mouth over the head. It was hotter than she’d imagined, and bigger – it filled her mouth. Kelly murmured with satisfaction. This was going to make a pretty hot flick. Stefan’s head sank back, resting on the sofa cushion. With his eyes half closed he looked as if her were asleep, but he could see Thomasina’s head bobbing regularly up and down quite clearly. He liked the way her mouth elongated every time she drew back, her shiny red lips sticking to the shaft of his pen-is. And the feeling! If it were true this was her first time… The thought…! He had to bite his lip to calm himself.
Emily had squatted down, and was slowly stroking Thomasina’s back, an apparent gesture of support and encouragement – and perhaps an opportunity to get closer to the action. If Thomasina had had a choice, this was definitely not something she would have embarked upon. She had seen women doing this in pornographic videos, and it had rather disgusted her. “Yuk! How can they do that?” she had once remarked to Caroline. In the event, she found the experience not only pleasant, but even exciting, despite her apathic view of men. Stefan was sort of cute, his coc-k was nice and straight and smooth, and his love-juice (that’s what she called it in her mind) was slippery and nice-tasting. She liked the feeling of it trickling down her throat, and began to think herself very mature and grown up to have discovered this new talent so spontaneously. She must be impressing her audience – Emily behind her, Kim and Robert somewhere to her left, and Kelly at the far end of the sofa. She could just see her out of the corner of her right eye. She was determined to give them a good show. And to play to the camera. It was good her hair was tied back, so that Kelly would have a clear shot. The thought made her shiver with excitement. She relished the idea of them all watching it afterwards. Maybe they’d still be watching it months from now. Maybe…some of them would even masturbate over it! Oh, god, imagine… The thought that at any time, one of them might be jerking off over her. Roger… He would, definitely! Would Kim be jealous? Annoyed? Yeah, she’d be livid. One day she’d catch him at it. Grounds for divorce… Yes, she’d divorce him, and he’d come crying to her for consolation…and maybe begging for sex… She giggled silently.
Stefan was moaning now. The rest of the room was quiet, tense, almost electric. She thought she’d better generate a little sound too, so she groaned a little, slurped, and raised her head. It was so pretty, with the pink inner bit peeping out from the foreskin. She pushed the foreskin down, and regarded the bloated, shiny glans. She licked it like a lollipop for a minute, tickling the underside with the tip of her tongue, looking at it innocently, with wide eyes, like she’d never seen one before, let alone... He’d squirmed when she did that! That must be the sensitive spot. She popped it back in, and started using her tongue on the same place. He gasped and moaned. Oh, it was. She’d use that when she was ready for him to c-um, but for now she just wanted to enjoy the feeling of being watched, kneeling there all prim and polite with a stiff coc-k between her glossy scarlet lips, acting like the slut she was for all to see! She had never felt quite so alive.
The pulses of the dil-do felt good. They kept her at a high pitch of arousal, but by concentrating she was still able to stave off an orgasm, allowing her to enjoy wallowing in her degradation. Thank goodness Caroline was out of the way. She would have felt inhibited by her presence, not least because she was rarely capable of keeping a secret, and this was something that needed to be kept within this small social circle. She liked Caroline as a friend. She was fun. Though she was in Thomasina’s year she looked a couple of years younger. Last year she had dressed up in one of Thomasina’s party dresses from when she was about twelve, and they had wandered around in the village smoking those fake cigarettes, watching everyone staring at them in horror. But it was better she didn’t find out any more about Thomasina’s sexual tastes.
Kim and Roger had been standing back, but they had slowly moved in closer to the action. She could just see out of the corner of her eye that they were holding hands tightly, and it seemed to her that Roger was playing with himself just out of her field of vision. She hoped he was. If so, it confirmed her intuition about him. Emily’s hand had been moving lower and lower on her back, till she was stroking her bum. But now it slipped between her legs, and her fingers were toying with the base of her dil-do. She wasn’t surprised, having sussed her relationship with Hilda right from the start. In any case she’d suspected it from her ill-disguised interest in her.
“Go for it, Emily Laidlaw…” she thought. “I bet you’d like to make a threesome with me…”
But at that same moment Emily leant forward and whispered in her ear.
“Are you as good as this with pussy, Thomasina…?”
Without hesitating, Thomasina pulled Stefan’s coc-k out of her mouth, and whispered back.
“Yes, Miss Laidlaw. I like pussy much better, in fact. Pussy or pussies…”
She was almost shocked at herself, but she was enjoying being a total slut, and in any case she meant it. Emily was obviously taken aback by such a prompt reply, because she forgot to keep stroking for a few seconds - but then continued with enthusiasm, pressing a finger against the base of the dil-do and rotating it, making Thomasina thrill with pleasure. With that sort of attention she couldn’t hold out much longer. In any case, Stefan was no better. He’d been slowly sliding down on the sofa, until his bottom was resting on the front edge of the cushion, and his feet were either side of Thomasina’s calves. He was moaning and pleading..
“Thomasina, please… I can’t hold on much longer…”
How sweet, she thought. He was asking her permission! Okay, granted. She moved her hands to his forearms and pinioned them against the back of the sofa, braced herself, and thrust the point of her tongue into the cleft underneath the glans, raking it up and down. The response was immediate and spectacular. His back arched, he cried out, and then she was almost choking on his c-um, which was filling her mouth faster than she could swallow, overflowing from her stretched lips and cascading down her chin. She had only two ideas; first, give Stefan the best orgasm he’d ever had, to which end she employed her tongue as vigorously as she could, using her teeth to hold him in place; second, to make it last, a fitting climax to her performance. As it turned out, there was a bonus. Roger groaned loudly, and let fly over the left side of her face. Glancing up, Stefan’s coc-k still in her mouth, Thomsina saw that the fingers curled around his erection were Kim’s, and that, with an evil expression on her face, she was aiming it straight at her! Even as she registered this, the next spurt of warm c-um hit her cheek and the side of her nose. Surprise temporarily derailed her orgasm, so she waited for both men to finish. In the meantime Kelly had adjusted her position so take in Roger’s contribution to the tableau, and was now filming from the back of the sofa. Thomasina, still trembling on the brink, allowed Stefan’s softening coc-k to slip from her mouth, and looked brazenly into the lens.
“Wait!” cried Kim. She had let go of her partner’s coc-k, and was rummaging in her handbag. “One last thing!”
She produced a lipstick, took off the cap, and taking Thomasina by the ponytail, turned her head. Then she wrote something with the lipstick across her forehead, the only area of her face not dripping with c-um.
“Show the camera, sweetie… Kelly, take a few stills, too…”
Kelly filmed for another thirty seconds or so, and took a few snaps, whilst Thomasina cleaned her slimy lips as best she could with her tongue. Kelly briefly turned her phone round to show one to the star of the film. The caption was as predictable as it was undeniable: “c-umSLUT”. Then she reverted to video.
It was the sight of this image, with the bold red letters above and the strings of semen hanging from her cheeks and nose, that finally tipped Thomasina into orgasm.
“Oh…fuc-k…”
She shuddered and gasped. Lights swirled before her eyes. Waves of intense almost unbearable pleasure racked her body. She felt weak, out of control. She grabbed the edge of the sofa cushion for support, and allowed her head to rest on Stefan’s thigh. It was a full minute before she gradually began to recover, still twitching from the aftershocks. She knelt back on her haunches and looked down at her sperm-spattered suit. She touched her cheek; it was slimy and sticky. She was exhausted, but sated and at peace. Everyone in the room was chattering and laughing. She looked around. Stefan was slumped on the sofa, drained but patently happy. Emily mimicked applause, smiling approval and clapping her hands silently. Her first instinct was to imagine she had done something clever – endeared herself to her new friends. But as she slowly emerged from her state of sexual euphoria, it began to dawn on her that, for a mere few minutes of the most intense pleasure she had ever experienced, she had paid a huge price. Now all these people, people whom she hardly knew and whose intentions remained a closed book, had witnessed her abase herself utterly, bare her inmost and most secret desires. And she had let them record every second. Let them? No, she had revelled in the idea. She shivered. How on earth could she have done those things? It was as if she had been possessed. She looked up at Kim, standing beside her. Roger had retired, and she was alone, wiping her hands on a tissue. She returned a smug smile.
“Well done, puppy. What an exhibition. I think you’ve earned a collar and tag. What do you think, Kelly?”
“I agree. A pretty studded collar. What name shall we call her?”
Kim looked thoughtful. “I mean, c-umslut would be appropriate, but it’s a bit of a cliché. How about… Suki? I mean, it says the same thing, really…”
“Perfect! Suki it is. I’ll order Suki her new collar, then. Suki, darling… come back next week and we’ll fit it for you. All right?”
Thomasina laughed nervously.
“Oh, we’re not joking, dear,” said Emily, a slight edge in her tone. “I’ll bring you. We won’t need Caroline. Just you.” And in the meantime you and I can go see Cynthia again… Wednesday okay?”
10
Active Sissy Stories / Re: His Aunt Nicole
« Last post by Simonssister on January 12, 2026, 01:58:18 PM »
Chapter 311.
Kim smiled with obvious satisfaction.
“That’s better, puppy,” she smirked. “Now, if you’re an obedient little puppy, and do what your mistress tells you, your mistress will find you a tasty treat. Would you like that?”
Thomasina looked up at her “mistress” and nodded. She could hear tittering and excited whispering from her audience.
“What a pity puppy doesn’t have a tail to wag,” continued Kim. “Why don’t you wag your little ass instead, sweetie?”
Thomasina did as she was told, eliciting laughter from behind her. She was faint with arousal, the dil-do’s ceaseless vibrations driving her crazy with frustration.
“Miss… Please…”
“Yes, puppy?”
“Please turn it off… Just for a minute or two… I’ll do anything…”
“Give me one good reason…”
“Please! Please, miss. Otherwise I think I’m going to c-um…”
“Oh, dear. Well we can’t have that, can we? We don’t want puppy c-umming before we’re ready for her. Tell you what, sit up and beg, and I’ll switch to pulse.”
Thomasina knelt back like a dog begging, hands curled in front of her chest. She even let her tongue hang out. She looked so stupid, that Kelly couldn’t resist a quick photo – or it may have been a video.
“Good girl!” cried Kim, visibly delighted.
She moved the function switch. Thomasina gave a sigh of relief. The pulses began, but at the rate of about one every two seconds, which was bearable.
“Better? I’ll leave it on the lowest speed for the time being.”
“Thank you, mistress…”
She sank back onto all fours. A faint moan from the sofa made Kelly look back. Stefan was flushed, mouth half open, blinking behind his glasses. Fixated on Thomasina. Kelly laughed.
“What’s the matter, Stefan? A real latex girl too much for you? You should stick to your teenage posters, and your AI fantasies, little boy…”
Stefan’s erection was straining at his jeans. He mumbled some excuse, and tried to hide it with his hands.
“Look what you’ve done to poor Stefan, puppy,” chided Kim. “He’s in a worse state than you, if that’s possible. I think you should take responsibility, don’t you?”
Thomasina looked at her, not understanding.
“I think out little puppy should finish what she’s started. What do you think, Kelly?”
“I don’t mind. Good idea. It would make his day, all right, And mine! Do you think you can persuade her?”
“She’ll do what I tell her to do – won’t you, puppy?”
“Good. I’ll get him ready.”
She went over to him, pushed his hand aside, and yanked open the zip of his jeans. His coc-k sprang out, stiff and quivering. Shocked, he sat up, clasping his hands and resting his forearms on his thighs protectively. Kelly left him sitting there while she went and refilled her glass.
“It’s your dream come true, darling,” she mocked, from the other side of the room. “You’ll be able to tell all your mates about it…”
Kim took Thomasina by the pony tail, and pulled her along the floor towards Stefan. She panicked and struggled, but Kim held her tight..
“No!”
“You said you’d do anything…”
“Not that…”
“Wait a minute,” said Emily. She picked up a riding whip from one corner, marched up to Thomasina and gave her a couple smart smacks across her bottom, making her squeal with surprise.
“Emily, no…” she sobbed. “You’re supposed to be my friend…”
“Your friend and mentor,” Emily replied. “You’ve been a naughty girl, and now it’s time for your medicine.”
“Is that what you call it?” grinned Kim.
“And if you don’t obey Kim you’ll get two more - plus I’ll text Coco.” She picked up her phone from the coffee table. “Make up your mind.”
“No! All right…”
“That’s better. Go on then. Right up to the sofa. Stop there. See? It’s not that big, but it’s quite a nice one, don’t you think? I’m sure you’re going to enjoy suc-king it, probably as much as Stefan’s going to enjoy having it suc-ked. Take your time, Thomasina. Imagine it’s a lollipop that you want to make last as long as possible…”
Thomsina stared wide-eyed at Stefan’s erection. Its pink tip was oozing clear juice. She swallowed.
“Have you ever done this before, darling?” asked Kim.
“Never, miss…” said Thomasina, nervously.
“Really? Good. That’s makes it all the more entertaining. Don’t worry. Relax. There’s nothing to it. I’ll tell you just what to do. Kelly? You seem handy with the camera. Would you…? It’s her very first blowjob, after all. We should record it for posterity.”
“My pleasure,” said Kelly, positioning herself at the other end of the sofa, and resting her phone sideways on the arm. Thomasina’s looked up at Stefan. He had a nice face. Boyish. He looked embarrassed. She smiled reassuringly. Her heart was beating fast. This was it, she was going suc-k a guy’s coc-k, suc-k it till he came, with everyone watching, even filming her. She was shaking in anticipation The thought of the possible consequences, which should have frightened her, only made it more exciting. All rational thought, all fears, were blotted out by pure lust – not so much for the act itself, as delightfully rude as it was, but for the uninhibited exhibition of her depravity. Flaunting herself publicly in skin-tight latex was exciting by itself – but this took things to another level. She was high with sexual arousal, so intense that nothing else mattered. She intended to delay her climax for as long as she could, to walk the tightrope until she slipped. The nebulous thought that her behaviour could result in humiliation, exploitation or disgrace only made her more excited.
“Ready?”
She nodded. Kim adjusted the remote, and the pulses immediately speeded up. She moaned with pleasure, gripped Stefan’s thighs, and lowered her head….
Kim smiled with obvious satisfaction.
“That’s better, puppy,” she smirked. “Now, if you’re an obedient little puppy, and do what your mistress tells you, your mistress will find you a tasty treat. Would you like that?”
Thomasina looked up at her “mistress” and nodded. She could hear tittering and excited whispering from her audience.
“What a pity puppy doesn’t have a tail to wag,” continued Kim. “Why don’t you wag your little ass instead, sweetie?”
Thomasina did as she was told, eliciting laughter from behind her. She was faint with arousal, the dil-do’s ceaseless vibrations driving her crazy with frustration.
“Miss… Please…”
“Yes, puppy?”
“Please turn it off… Just for a minute or two… I’ll do anything…”
“Give me one good reason…”
“Please! Please, miss. Otherwise I think I’m going to c-um…”
“Oh, dear. Well we can’t have that, can we? We don’t want puppy c-umming before we’re ready for her. Tell you what, sit up and beg, and I’ll switch to pulse.”
Thomasina knelt back like a dog begging, hands curled in front of her chest. She even let her tongue hang out. She looked so stupid, that Kelly couldn’t resist a quick photo – or it may have been a video.
“Good girl!” cried Kim, visibly delighted.
She moved the function switch. Thomasina gave a sigh of relief. The pulses began, but at the rate of about one every two seconds, which was bearable.
“Better? I’ll leave it on the lowest speed for the time being.”
“Thank you, mistress…”
She sank back onto all fours. A faint moan from the sofa made Kelly look back. Stefan was flushed, mouth half open, blinking behind his glasses. Fixated on Thomasina. Kelly laughed.
“What’s the matter, Stefan? A real latex girl too much for you? You should stick to your teenage posters, and your AI fantasies, little boy…”
Stefan’s erection was straining at his jeans. He mumbled some excuse, and tried to hide it with his hands.
“Look what you’ve done to poor Stefan, puppy,” chided Kim. “He’s in a worse state than you, if that’s possible. I think you should take responsibility, don’t you?”
Thomasina looked at her, not understanding.
“I think out little puppy should finish what she’s started. What do you think, Kelly?”
“I don’t mind. Good idea. It would make his day, all right, And mine! Do you think you can persuade her?”
“She’ll do what I tell her to do – won’t you, puppy?”
“Good. I’ll get him ready.”
She went over to him, pushed his hand aside, and yanked open the zip of his jeans. His coc-k sprang out, stiff and quivering. Shocked, he sat up, clasping his hands and resting his forearms on his thighs protectively. Kelly left him sitting there while she went and refilled her glass.
“It’s your dream come true, darling,” she mocked, from the other side of the room. “You’ll be able to tell all your mates about it…”
Kim took Thomasina by the pony tail, and pulled her along the floor towards Stefan. She panicked and struggled, but Kim held her tight..
“No!”
“You said you’d do anything…”
“Not that…”
“Wait a minute,” said Emily. She picked up a riding whip from one corner, marched up to Thomasina and gave her a couple smart smacks across her bottom, making her squeal with surprise.
“Emily, no…” she sobbed. “You’re supposed to be my friend…”
“Your friend and mentor,” Emily replied. “You’ve been a naughty girl, and now it’s time for your medicine.”
“Is that what you call it?” grinned Kim.
“And if you don’t obey Kim you’ll get two more - plus I’ll text Coco.” She picked up her phone from the coffee table. “Make up your mind.”
“No! All right…”
“That’s better. Go on then. Right up to the sofa. Stop there. See? It’s not that big, but it’s quite a nice one, don’t you think? I’m sure you’re going to enjoy suc-king it, probably as much as Stefan’s going to enjoy having it suc-ked. Take your time, Thomasina. Imagine it’s a lollipop that you want to make last as long as possible…”
Thomsina stared wide-eyed at Stefan’s erection. Its pink tip was oozing clear juice. She swallowed.
“Have you ever done this before, darling?” asked Kim.
“Never, miss…” said Thomasina, nervously.
“Really? Good. That’s makes it all the more entertaining. Don’t worry. Relax. There’s nothing to it. I’ll tell you just what to do. Kelly? You seem handy with the camera. Would you…? It’s her very first blowjob, after all. We should record it for posterity.”
“My pleasure,” said Kelly, positioning herself at the other end of the sofa, and resting her phone sideways on the arm. Thomasina’s looked up at Stefan. He had a nice face. Boyish. He looked embarrassed. She smiled reassuringly. Her heart was beating fast. This was it, she was going suc-k a guy’s coc-k, suc-k it till he came, with everyone watching, even filming her. She was shaking in anticipation The thought of the possible consequences, which should have frightened her, only made it more exciting. All rational thought, all fears, were blotted out by pure lust – not so much for the act itself, as delightfully rude as it was, but for the uninhibited exhibition of her depravity. Flaunting herself publicly in skin-tight latex was exciting by itself – but this took things to another level. She was high with sexual arousal, so intense that nothing else mattered. She intended to delay her climax for as long as she could, to walk the tightrope until she slipped. The nebulous thought that her behaviour could result in humiliation, exploitation or disgrace only made her more excited.
“Ready?”
She nodded. Kim adjusted the remote, and the pulses immediately speeded up. She moaned with pleasure, gripped Stefan’s thighs, and lowered her head….
The more you give, the more I can give back.
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