Mitch

[billykins]

I agree.

[Sandra B]

87.
Back at P & S, plans were being made for the arrival of the two miscreants.  They were due on the afternoon of Monday the twenty-sixth.  Mitch would be returning from Devon the day before, so he would be around to assist in their initiation, together with Jasper, Sam and Meredith.  A certain Deborah Buff-Hopkins had also been put on alert, and was already engaged in polishing her most formidable boots and waxing her range of riding whips.  The Milkmax IIIs were being tested, the appropriate accessories readied.  As for Oliver, Shirley had decided on a regime of total babification.  There was Meredith, of course, the current working example of juvenile transformation, though, being on the large side, Shirley generally allocated him the role of female toddler.  She would produce him for inspection whenever a parent asked her how far it was possible to go with a naughty boy.
“This is Meredith.  Say hello to Mrs Smith, Meredith.”
“Pleased to meet oo. Mithith Thmith…”
“Good girl.  This is her favourite outfit.  She loves her petticoat, because it allows her to show off her sweet little baby pants whenever she wants.  Doesn’t it. Meredith?”
“Yeth, mith.”
“Oh, I see.  She is very cute, I must say.  I like the idea of the pink vinyl.  It’s pretty but very practical, I imagine…”
“Oh, very, Mrs Smith.  Yes, little Meredith can get quite messy at times – you know what babies are – and all we need to do is give her a wipe, and she’s off again.  And when we change her we can just rinse her pants – she has vinyl and rubber ones - and pop them back on over her nappy.”
“That’s so clever.  My Tommy would look so pretty in something like that…”
“Well, we can discuss costumes if you decide to send him.  There’s quite a large range, depending on which way we decide to go.  Thank you, Meredith.  You may go now.  It’s time for your mid-morning feed.  Go and find Jasper or Sam.  They will…er, attend to you.”

Oliver, then, was destined for proper babyhood.  He was small, and looked oh so cute in rompers and rubber pants.  He was fed before bedtime, then kept locked in his cot all night so that by morning his nappy was absolutely soaked!  He was fitted with locking mittens to prevent him messing with his outfit.  Then he would be taken to be changed.  If there were visitors, this would take place in front of them, usually undertaken either by Yulya or one of the boys dressed as his big sister.  He would have been fitted with a locking pacifier or sissifier to make sure he could only make muffled sounds, and, of course, a tiny chastity device shaped like a tiny baby willy.  Eventually, when he had learned to make proper baby noises and articulate a few baby words, and he had been totally conditioned to babyhood, he would be allowed to dispense with the gag.  At present he was not encouraged to walk, but to stay in character as a six-month-old.  Shirley had commissioned a special rubber harness to assist him when she deemed he had reached the stage of learning to walk by himself.  It would be worn under his nappy, and include a short but effective butt plug, and a spacer in his crotch to hold his legs apart and thus simulate normal baby locomotion.  He would be sent once or twice a week to Alice or another nursing mother or mother-to-be to learn to suc-kle properly.  For these visits he was fitted with a pair of rubber tooth-guards to protect the nipples.  (These made him look so baby-like, that Shirley was experimenting making him wear them all the time.)  As well as all this, Shirley had arranged with the parents of his schoolfriends Marian and Edith that they would babysit him at least once a week in their own homes, for which they would be paid, with the requirement of at least one change of nappy and feeding in a high chair and from a bottle.  Naturally, the news of Oliver’s transformation to Olivia had already spread all round his schoolmates, so on these occasions the girls might be accompanied by some of their friends.  There was considerable speculation about what would happen after the holidays when it was time for him to resume school.  Shirley and his mother were said to be making plans which included a sort of compromise between his baby clothes and the school uniform: white rompers or tops printed with an image of the school tie; heavy-duty grey or black elasticated rubber pants over his very thick nappy – designed to last him all day; a harness and reins so the teacher could keep him under control; and a large pacifier on a ribbon which he would be required to suc-k on unless it was necessary for him to answer a question in class, or be fed.  The school would be provided with a high chair and plastic bib for lunchtimes, he would be allocated a special place in the canteen and would be provided with an appropriate baby diet, and there would be plenty of volunteers to feed him.  He could also be useful for domestic education lessons.  The school had already been approached, and the headmistress seemed quite enthusiastic about the experiment, and eager to see the new baby Olivia in the flesh.  Shirley would have liked more time to prepare him, but on the other hand it would be amusing to see his reaction to being catapulted straight back into the midst of his schoolfriends in his present state of discomfiture - and Anna had been enlisted to film his progress.

[BabyJay]

Lovely to see the continuation of the story. Look foward to next chapters.

[Sandra B]

88.
At Scout camp, there was a buzz of rumour.  The boys’ enforced lovemaking session, instead of driving them apart, as might have been expected, had initiated a breakthrough in their relationship, and though they said nothing, they saw each other in a different light now.  Michael realised the degree of affection in which he had previously held his friend was much greater than he had admitted; while Bobby had been brought face-to-face with his physical attraction to Michael.  As a result, all they wanted now was to be together, whether out on activities or back in their tents.  And as it was impossible for them to express their feelings in their own tent, they had taken to going back to the girls, where they squeezed in a sleeping bag laid along the back of the tent, and cuddled each other all night long.  The girls themselves were so charmed by this transformation, they were happy to accommodate them and to repel all enquiries about the arrangement.  But when Moira Sullivan became apprised of the state of affairs, having received a report that they had been seen hand-in-hand during an orienteering exercise, she snatched eagerly at the idea that at last she had a gay couple in her troop.
It was something she had always fantasized about.  Like the other troops, there was a lot of bold talk about “diversification” and “acceptance”, lots of rainbow scarves, badges and banners.  But what did it mean?  For most of the children, and most of the adults, it was just empty words, a parroting of principles from wider society.  But if this were true…  how cool would that be?  Not quite cool, not very cool, no…  Totally cool!  She imagined how it would reflect on her own leadership, her principles, in fact, her…cool!  If the rumours were true, it was an opportunity not to be missed.  So she took immediate steps to verify the information.  She called in Marcella.  According to hearsay, Marcella was somehow involved.  Moreover Marcella had a reputation of knowing everything that went on in the troop.  So she approached her at breakfast.
“Marcella.  Good morning.  How are you today?  It looks like being a lovely day for our visit to the farm, doesn’t it?”
Marcella guessed what she wanted, but didn’t let on.  “Yes, miss,” she replied, innocently.  “We’re leaving at nine-thirty, aren’t we?  Don’t worry, we won’t be late.”
“No, of course not.  No…  I just wanted to ask your advice about the itinerary…  Would you have a moment…?  Perhaps pop over to my tent for a minute after breakfast?”
“Sure, miss.”
“Thank you.”

Moira waited eagerly for her arrival.
“Marcella, thank you for coming over.  Now…actually this is about something else.”
“Really, miss?”
“Yes.  I’ve been hearing rumours…”
“Yes?”
“About a certain two boys…”
Marcella was not going to help her.  “Oh?  Yes?  What rumours…?”
Moira lowered her voice.  “Michael.  And Bobby.  Have you heard them?”
“Michael…and Bobby?  What have you heard?”
Moira was getting exasperated.  “Look, Marcella.  Someone told me that they’re gay!”
“Oh, that!  Yes, of course.  Didn’t you know?”
“They are gay, then?”
“Oh, yes, miss.  They’re a couple.  I’m sorry, I thought you knew.  It’s so sweet, isn’t it?”
“Oh…yes…of course.  Very sweet.  I just wanted confirmation, you understand.”
“Is that all, miss?  Cos I need to get ready…”
“Yes, yes, of course, Marcella.  Off you go.”

As Marcella disappeared through the flap, Moira raised her fists in a gesture of delight.  “Yes,” she hissed.  “At last!”

[Sandra B]

89.
She wasted no time.  She had a friend back home who worked for the local newspaper.  This would make a great story, and she would emerge from it as a model troop leader, someone of vision and tolerance with truly progressive views, perhaps someone ripe for promotion…  She would get onto her straight away. 
She was about to ring when she realised the story would be no good without photos.  Photos were everything.  She could have the whole troop lined up behind her, smiling and supportive.  One arm round each of the boys, they looking up at her appreciatively…or the boys holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes, her behind with her hands on their shoulders…or…but there were so many possibilities.  Now, she already had half a dozen Pride scarves, left over from the last parade.  The boys could wear them, and she too…   And the badges…  Pity they only had the standard uniform, though…  For a minute she speculated if she might be able to modify Michael and Bobby’s uniforms, to make them stand out…but she couldn’t see a way.  Because she was only thinking about her own image and her own glorification, she never once considered what effect all this might have on the boys themselves.  It never occurred to her they may want above all else to be left alone, to be treated the same as their friends, to enjoy their new-found love quietly and privately.  If it hadn’t been against regulations, she would have liked to have had them wearing bright yellow T-shirts with the legend, “I’M GAY!” in rainbow letters across the chest!  That was how myopic she was.
But then she had an idea almost as crass.  She dialled a number.
“Alison?  Hi.  It’s Moira Sullivan…Shirley Dearman’s friend?  That’s right, Beckleyford.  The shorts?  Perfect!  Great!  They look so smart.  And well-behaved!  You wouldn’t believe…  Look, I just wanted to ask, on the off-chance…  Pride shorts…you know, rainbow…I suppose you wouldn’t have any…?   You have?  I only need two pairs!  That’s wonderful!  Size…oh, I think they take the medium…  You’ve only got small?  No problem.  I mean, they stretch, don’t they?  Would you be able to get them to me in the next day or two?  Tomorrow?  Great, thank you so much.  How shall I pay?  Oh, okay, we’ll sort it out later.  Never know, may be a few other things…  Yes, quite…Yes.  Thank you again.  Let me give you the address…”
She exited her tent and headed towards those of the Beckleyford troop, to make sure everyone was ready to leave.  She was congratulating herself on her cleverness.  She was particularly looking out for a certain two boys…

[Sandra B]

90.
Shirley was in a panic.  She had received a telephone call early that morning from Mrs Peters, mother of Luke.  Apparently their little deception had worked rather too well.  Possibly the mothers, in their eagerness to get their sons to P & S, had overegged the pudding; because now the boys, realising there was only a week or so of the holidays left, were demanding immediate access to “Play & Sleep”!  They wanted to come in that very day!  Shirley had been relying on Mitch to be there to assist, and now she had either to put off Luke and Max, and risk losing them forever, or rely on such support as she had.  The other boys weren’t going to be much use, she thought.  After their conditioning they were hardly in a position to put on a sufficiently ‘laddish’ performance, and in any case she had no faith in their acting ability.  She had Yulya, of course, and Anna, at a pinch.  And of course Deborah – she  could be relied upon to knock them into shape.  But the problem was enticing them in, creating a false sense of security.  Mitch could have done it.  Yulya would assist, but Yulya was a grown-up, and therefore an object of suspicion.  Maybe…if she looked tarty enough…but no, that could backfire.  What was needed was some younger blood…a participant who would disarm any doubts or reservations….but who…?
She was sitting in her office pondering this question, when through the window she saw Yulya opening the front door to admit someone.  For a split second she thought it might be them.  She sprang to her feet in a panic, but immediately relaxed.  It was only Marian and Edith, come to attend to Olivia.  She watched them disappear down the corridor, with a thoughtful expression on her face.  Could they…no, they looked too young.  Though with a little makeup…  No.  It wouldn’t be fair on them.  And she’d need to get permission from their parents.
She had just put the thought out of her mind, when the phone rang.  Mrs Peters again.  She and Mrs Dinsford had tried to dissuade them, but they were adamant they were coming in today.  The best they could do was to delay them till the afternoon, by offering to drive them.  She was sorry, but against the two big, swaggering boys, there was little they could do…

That decided Shirley.  She got straight onto Edith’s mother and explained her dilemma.  Edith’s mother rang Marian’s mother, and she rang back to tell Shirley she was doing a great job, and to go ahead, if the girls were up for it.
“Now we understand what you do, Shirley, we think your project is a great idea.  There are too many of these out-of-control boys around.  Marian’s been bullied several times at school.  And we love having little Olivia round.  She’s so sweet.”
“Thank you, that’s very kind.  Unfortunately these two new trainees present a much sterner challenge.  I wouldn’t have asked, but I don’t have the full complement of staff at the moment, and the most difficult bit of the operation is getting them inside and allaying any suspicions.  All we need is for the girls to be sweet and welcoming, and to reinforce the narrative.  Once we’ve got them inside and quite relaxed we’ll take over.”
“Well, good luck.  Do what you need to.  We’ve spoken to our daughters already.  They seem quite excited to be in on the prank!”

After she’d put the phone down, Shirley sat there for a few minutes, with a strange half smile on her face.  Then she called Mandy in.
“I think we have a solution to our problem.  Mandy?  What do we have in the wardrobe suitable for a couple of twelve-year-old girls?”

[Sandra B]

91.
Luke and Max were dropped off outside the front door by their mothers at one-thirty.  Shirley was watching from a side window.  They came swaggering up the steps.  They both had longish hair.  Luke was a few inches shorter than Max, with lank blond hair, Max’s more of a mousey colour.  Luke seemed particularly proud of his flowing locks, for he was continually rearranging them.  They both wore jeans and T-shirts, Max carrying a leather jacket.  They were pointing and laughing at Yulya’s old yellow Fiat 500.  Typical, thought Shirley.  You can’t even drive yet, but you’d mock someone else’s car.  Just wait.  Luke did a final check of his hair in the pane of glass on the door, and knocked.

She’d found the perfect introductory outfits for Edith and Marian; traditional maids’ costumes, with long black skirts, white aprons, white gloves, and lots of white ruffles.  Their cheeks had been rouged and their lips painted scarlet.  They looked like two little matching dolls.  They were waiting for the boys, each holding a tray bearing an open bottle of beer, as Mandy let them in.  They hesitated for a moment, then grabbed the bottles and took a swig.
“Hey, cool!  That’s the sort of welcome I like!” said Max, loudly.
Edith looked at them seriously.  “Welcome to P & S, Mr Luke and Mr Max.  We are your maids for the day.  While you play games and relax, we shall bring you whatever food and drink you ask for.”
“Yes,” continued Marian.  “would you care to follow us to one of the gaming rooms?  Everything is ready for you.”
“Please, boys,” added Mandy, gesturing for them to follow the girls.  “We hope you enjoy your stay.  We shall do everything we can to make it both comfortable, and we hope exciting, for you.  You may take our name as our motto: play and sleep.  Play when you like, sleep when you like.  Our maids will look after your every need.
“My mum said it would be like this, but I didn’t believe her,” laughed Luke.  “Come on, mate, lets go see what games there are.”
They set off behind the girls, holding their beer bottles.  “Did you see that one I was playing yesterday?  Like you can make the women do whatever you want.  That bitch in a spacesuit got fuc-ked by about six guys at once.”
“Yeah?  That’s nothin’.  There’s this new one out, where all the girls are, like, masochists, an’…”
Their voices trailed away as they turned the corner.  Shirley came out from the alcove she had been hiding in.
“How long have they got before the GHB takes effect?” asked Mandy.
“It’s a small dose.  Probably half to an hour if they drink all their beer.”
“They're bound to.  And there’s plenty more waiting for them in the fridge.”
“Yulya, you’d better go and keep an eye on them,” said Shirley.  “Look after the girls.  Try not to distract them too much, won’t you?  If that’s possible.”
“Yes, Miss Shirley.  I give them five minutes.  Then I go.”
“Good idea, “ murmured Mandy, looking her up and down with a wry smile.  Yulya was not going to brook any attempts at unwanted familiarity.  She had dressed to impress, but also to intimidate. 
A few minutes later she was making her way to the “gaming room”.  She quietly let herself in.  The boys were relaxing on a sumptuous sofa in front a huge screen, with their backs to her, fingering their controls and preparing to play.  They had their feet on foot-rests.  The girls were placing snacks and more drinks on two tables, one for each of them.
“Bring us an ashtray, darlin’,” said Max, taking out a packet of cigarettes.  Then he looked closer at Marian.  “Hey.  Don’t I know you from school?  Aren’t you that girl…?”
“That girl you pushed over in the playground last week?  Yes, sir, I am.  Would sir like another bottle of beer?  I see that one’s empty.”
Yulya made her presence known.  “No smoking in rooms,” she said, firmly, closing the door behind her.  “Important rule.”
“What?  ’Oo says…” began Max, swinging round.  “We can…”  His mouth kept moving, but no sound came out.  His eyes bulged.
Yulya was wearing a thick black latex cat suit with heavily-textured knees, elbows, and breasts, and a blue collar, together with electric blue high-heeled ankle boots and blue leather gauntlets.  She held a shiny blue motorbike helmet in one hand.  The boys stared, their expressions a mixture of lust and alarm.
“I have bike as well as funny car – Honda 750.  I come to check you behave.  Be nice to maids, if you want we be nice to you.”
Luke rose from his seat…then sat down again.  “It’s hot in here…I feel a bit dizzy…”
“Yeah…me too,” added Max.  “Tired…busy day…”
And within a couple of minutes they were both fast asleep.