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Author Topic: Mitch  (Read 67383 times)

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Sandra B

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Re: Mitch
« Reply #189 on: February 14, 2023, 01:39:39 PM »
137.
A couple of rooms away, Shirley and Yulya had persuaded Tyler and Sean to strip down to their undies.  They were puzzled about what their task was to be, and no amount of interrogation yielded any meaningful responses from the ladies, beyond the assurance that they would surely enjoy themselves.  However, they were too curious and too avaricious to back out at this stage, so when they were fitted with belts and collars and wrist and ankle cuffs, they allowed themselves to be convinced they needed a harness for some sort of trial of strength.  They were not very bright!

Padlocks were not required for the next stage of their preparation – simple steel carabiners sufficed to clip their wrists to their collars, and cable ties to link their ankles to their belts.  The ladies performed these operations swiftly and efficiently, allowing them no time to think or protest, and leaving them helpless on the floor.
“Miss?” asked Tyler, frowning.  “What are you doin’?  What’s the idea?  Tell us now, or we’re out.”
“Yeah,” added Sean.  “I don’t understand what we’re supposed to do all trussed up like this.”
Instead of replying, Shirley and Yulya retreated so they could get a better view of the two naked boys  thrashing about at their feet, and doubled up laughing.  It had been the work of a moment, and their victims were completely at their mercy.  It was all they could do to squirm a few inches across the floorboards.
“Well, better get on, I suppose,” said Shirley, trying to recover from her mirth.  “Let’s get them finished, Yulya.”
She produced a large roll of black bondage tape from a drawer, and they began to wind it on, converting their doubled-up arms and legs into smooth, neatly packaged limbs.
At this development, the boys’ demeanour became suddenly aggressive.
“fuc-k this.  Let us free, you two, or we’ll…” growled Sean.
“You'll what?” said Shirley, mildly.  “What will you do?  Butt us with your heads?  Just be quiet or I’ll give you a slap.”
“You what?” bellowed Tyler.  “You fuc-king…”
But Yulya delivered such a slap to his face, that he was temporarily struck dumb.
“I think it’s time for the silencers,” said Shirley.  “They’re in the second drawer down.”

The “silencers” – red plastic ball-gags – were easily fitted and tightly buckled.  Sean’s protests became inarticulate, and not unlike a cow’s “moo”.  The balls were hollow, pierced inside and out with two small holes, and fitted inside with a pierced disc on a spindle, which converted the passage of air into a sort of low moan.  Now the boys were looking really worried.  Had they been able to speak they would probably have pleaded to be released.  But it was too late for that.  Their eyes widened when Shirley opened a big cardboard box and took out the cow suits.  She unrolled them and lay them side by side on the floor.
“Boys will be boy-cows soon,” smiled Yulya, “for P and S farm.”
One suit was brown, the other black and white.  After a little debate, it was decided the brown one would best suit Sean.  The ladies used scissors to remove the boys’ underpants, then, one by one, pulled the cow legs up over their limbs.  Each leg was fitted with a thick rubber hoof, thicker at the front to compensate for the difference in length.  Then came the important matter of the udders.  They were relatively small, moulded from solid rubber, with a small compartment to hold the balls and a hollow central teat between two solid ones.  Each teat had a little hole in the tip, so that they all looked the same.  Before inserting the boys’ pen-ises, they fitted them with snug rubber collars that would ensure that, once they were erect, they would stay that way.  Then it only remained to zip their suits up along the backbone, fit and secure pulsing cow-tail butt-plugs, and put on their open-face rubber hoods with cow ears.
“There,” said Shirley.  “All ready for the milking parlour.  Now, let me see, what’s the time?  Ah.  Nearly eight.  Yulya, could you and Anna please take the cows down to the stables, and tether them outside?  You’ll find a riding whip by the front door in case they need encouragement.  I still have a lot to do.  Mandy will deal with the babies, but I have to deploy the Scouts and get my new toy ready.”
“New toy, Miss Shirley?”
“Yes.  I’ll show you later, before we open the doors.  I’ve set it up in room six.  I think you’ll like it.  Mitch has offered – er, I mean, Mitch is going to help demonstrate it.  I’ll go check that he’s ready.”
And with a cheeky wink, she hurried out of the room.


Sandra B

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Re: Mitch
« Reply #190 on: February 15, 2023, 06:10:28 AM »
138.
As she and Anna drove the boys across the field, Yulya wondered what the “new toy” could be.  No matter how many innovations they had introduced, Shirley’s lurid imagination was continually giving birth to more – many of them too extreme to be consistent with her “therapist” status.
“Go, little boy-cow!” she snapped at Tyler, giving him a cut across his rear, making him buck and moan.  “Soon time for morning milking.”  Anna followed her example with Sean, and soon both were scurrying down towards the stables as fast as their little legs would carry them – which wasn’t very fast at all.
“You have lot of work today, Anna.  How you keep up?”
“I follow Miss Shirley, I think.  I see how it develop.”

Shirley returned to her office.  Mitch was waiting outside, looking a little nervous.
“Ah, Mitch.  Thank you for being punctual.  You look very nice.  Did everything fit okay?  It should have – Violet gave you what?  Three fittings?”
“Yes, three, miss.  But why…?”
“Follow me and I’ll explain.”

Mitch did indeed look very nice.  His natural soft feminine features were only enhanced by his St. Mary’s uniform, which Mrs Canter had offered to provide.  So far, she and Mandy were the only others in on the secret.  Mrs Canter had thought it a wonderful idea.  A punishment for gropers.  Over the years many of the girls had complained about boys groping them, usually on a first date.  It really needed to be stamped out, or at least severely punished.

As they passed reception Shirley caught sight of the deputy head of St. Mary’s with her four girls.  The girls stared.
“Who’s that?  I’ve never see her before,” whispered Patricia.
“And what’s she doing here?” added Marlene.
“She won’t get away with wearing a skirt that short, anyway,” mused Janice.  “You can almost see her panties!”
“Shirley!”  Violet Canter left the girls and approached.  “He looks absolutely amazing!”
“He?” gasped Maisy.
But he did.  A crisp white long-sleeved school shirt, beautifully setting off his dark complexion, a red and blue school tie, a red and blue tartan skirt cut to mid-thigh, white knee-socks and shiny black school shoes.  In his hand he held a straw boater with a St. Mary’s band, which the girls occasionally wore in summer for ceremonies.  Red leather straps peeped out from under his shirt-cuffs.
“Violet.  You came nice and early.  Let’s go together.  The girls will be all right here.  They can play with the babies when they’re put outside.”
Violet Canter gave her girls a little wave.  “See you shortly, girls.  The babies will be out soon.  Keep them amused, will you?”
“Miss?” cried Patricia.
“Yes, Patricia?”
“Can we quickly go visit the cows.  We saw them down at the stables as we came in.”
“Well…”
“Fine with me, Violet,” smiled Shirley. 
“All right.  Go on.  You can stroke them, but nothing else until later, understand?”
“Yes, miss!  Thank you, miss!”
“Such sweet girls,” said Shirley.
“They are, dear.  So polite, too.”

They walked along to room six.  Shirley opened the door and ushered them in.
The room was large and light, with windows on two sides.  The floorboards were polished, the walls white, decorated only with a large framed poster of Yulya in her black latex catsuit, standing next to a blackboard.  The ends of two words, written in white chalk, could be seen on the board to her left:  RBATION and TIO.  Yulya herself had a surprised expression of her face, which, together with her catsuit, were dripping with…well, something white and slimy.  Vertically up the right hand edge was the word “REVENGE”, printed in jagged red letters.  Yulya had protested vigorously about Anna’s candid snap being used for a poster, but she had been, (to the delight of the boys), outvoted by Shirley, Mandy and Anna.  The only concession she had been able to extract from Shirley was the addition of that word, a statement of her intent!   There were only two pieces of furniture: a cabinet in one corner, and in the middle of the room a cage.  By the door there was a wooden stool.
But it was not the sort of cage one would have expected to come across outside a dominatrix’s dungeon.  It was over seven feet tall, shaped like an elongated bird-cage.  That is to say, it culminated in a sort of dome.  It was less than a metre in diameter, and constructed of thin, brushed stainless steel, vertical bars, spaced at intervals of about nine inches and strengthened with four horizontal rings.  It had a steel floor, and one section was hinged and fitted with a lock to act as a door.  On a little plaque attached to the cage at about chest height were the words “GROPE ME”.

Violet’s eyes sparkled.  “What a wonderful idea!  Retribution indeed.”
“Well, Violet, it needn’t be just for that, need it?  It can be utilised for any variety of misbehaviour.  I’m even thinking I may be able to market them, or rent them out.  Imagine what a few days in there could achieve.”
“Yes, that’s right.  You know what I would do?  I’d put one in the middle of the senior playground, and have malefactors imprisoned there for a day.”
“Yes, well, dear, I’m not sure that’s even legal…but it’s a very nice thought.  She turned to Mitch.  “Thank you for volunteering…”
“I didn’t actually volunteer, miss,” said Mitch, alarmed.
“I suppose you didn’t specifically volunteer…but you said you were prepared to do anything to help…”  She grinned, and opened the door.  “In you go, then.  Quickly.”
Reluctantly he went in.  Shirley closed and locked the door.  Then she fetched the stool, placed it next to the cage, and climbed up.  She took the hat from his fingers, and hung it around her wrist by the chin-strap.
“Hands above your head.  Come on, Mitch.  Thank you.”
As he raised his hands, his skirt rode a couple of inches further up his thighs.  She attached a short chain to one cuff, fed it through a small ring and the apex of the cage, and clipped the other end to the other cuff.  Then she placed the straw boater on his head, and stretched the elastic under his chin.  She stepped down, and replaced the stool by the door.
“Now, as for his feet, we can either attach them to opposite sides of the cage, if we want his legs apart, or simply keep them together.  I’m going to be kind to Mitch, as he hasn’t actually committed the offence.  So…”
She went to the cabinet and returned with a short strap.  Kneeling down, she reached in and buckled it around his ankles.
“There.  Now he has no way of resisting any inappropriate advances from the outside.  Do you like it?”
“You’re a genius, Shirley.”
“Ah, well, I wouldn’t go that far.  Let’s just say “ingenious”, shall we?”
“And Mitch is such a good boy for agreeing to demonstrate the new equipment.”
“He is, isn’t he.  Of course, he’s one of my most important helpers.  But I think it’s good that every now and then he’s reminded that he is also just a naughty little boy.”  She reached through the bars and gave his cheek a gentle pinch.
“Now, Violet, shall we get back and finish the preparations?  Mitch?  Be good.  I’ll see you later – with luck, you’ll have a few visitors too.  I can’t wait to see their reaction…”


Sandra B

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Re: Mitch
« Reply #191 on: February 15, 2023, 03:01:41 PM »
139.
By the time the girls had run down to the bottom of the field, the “cows” were already tethered to the stable wall, a few yards apart.  This had been done by the simple expedient of tying ropes to their collars and attaching them to the tethering rings on the wall.  The collars had been Yulya’s idea; board leather straps fitted with real cow-bells, which made a rather sad tinny sound when the boys moved.  The girls actually jumped up and down with excitement when they got a close view of the animals for the first time.
“What are their names?  What are their names?” screamed Marlene.
“This brown boy-cow Sean, this one Tyler.  You can touch, but no milk yet.”
“Oh, they’re so cute!” squealed Maisy.  “Look at their little sad faces.”  She patted their heads.  “Never mind, little boy-cows!  Later on we’ll come down and milk you, shall we?”  She reached underneath Sean and gave his udder a little squeeze.  “Ooh, your udder’s so firm.  I bet it’s absolutely bursting with milk.”  Then she gave his tail a little tug, making Sean flinch.  She did it a second time.  He gave a little moo of discomfort.  Maisy’s mouth fell open.  She looked at Yulya.  “Why is he doing that?  It’s not…you know…?”
Yulya nodded.  “Yes.  Tail belong to Sean.  Go inside him.  Miss Shirley make sure won’t fall out.”
Patricia gasped, and covered her mouth. 
“How awfully rude!  Let me try.”  She took the tail from Maisy, and gave it a slightly harder tug.  Sean made a sort of squeak, pressed his back end closer to the wall, and looked around pleadingly, cheeks scarlet.  Patricia’s face lit up. 
“It’s true!  He has a butt-plug!  Oh, this is so fun!”  She looked at the others, gaping with disbelief.  “I know, let’s try the other boy’s.  I bet we can…”
But at that moment, Janice piped up, “Look!  The babies are being put out!”
They turned as one, and began to run back to the main entrance.
“Be back soon!” shouted Patricia over her shoulder.  “Save some milk for us!”

They dashed up to the entrance, where Mandy and Debbie were attaching the babies’ ankle cuffs to the scrapers.  They made a feeble attempt at resistance, which only served to offer more glimpses of their pretty rubber pants to the Scouts, who were gathered on the steps watching.  Stephen, standing on the bottom step, was pointing and laughing.
“Ha ha!  Look at their little rubber baby pants!  Don’t they look sweet!”
“You can laugh,” grinned Patricia, arriving next to him, “considering what you’re wearing!”
“What do you mean?”  Stephen, like the other boys in the troop, had by now become so used to their new look, that they often forgot how eye-catching they looked.
“Those!  Those little tiny rainbow-coloured rubber shorts!  Very sweet!” 
“Aren’t they?” called Tracey from the top of the steps.  “Miss Sullivan makes all the boys in our troop wear them now.  You should see how people stare!”
“I don’t wonder,” returned Patricia, herself goggling at Stephen so intensely that he squirmed and folded his hands in front of him.  “It wouldn’t take much for something to slip out, by the look of it.  But don’t they have to be careful of dogs?”
“Dogs?  Why dogs?”
“Well, you know how dogs love sausages!”
Everyone, except of course the three boy Scouts, fell about laughing.
“Anyway,” said Marlene, “let’s have a look at our babies.”  She climbed the steps and confronted Max. 
“Hello, my little baby girl.”  She tickled him under his chin, then coolly lifted his dress and gently caressed his panties.  “So soft!  And so pretty!  No wonder you like showing them off so much.  I see you’ve got a nice thick nappy on.  You’re going to need it.  Please do a nice big wee for your auntie Marlene, won’t you?  I’ve got some lovely scented baby powder and pots and pots of cold cream so you won’t get a rash.  Well?  Aren’t you going t say thank you?  Oh.  I suppose you can’t. with that big pacifier in your mouth.”
“Actually it’s a sissifier,” said Mandy, who was standing just inside the door.
“A what?”
“A sissifier.  One of these,” she said, ignoring Max’s pleading eyes.  And she took one out of her pocket and handed it to Marlene.
Marlene was speechless.  Then a huge grin spread over her face.  “Wow!  Look at this, girls!” 
She held in up, then tossed it down to Maisy to look at.  The others gathered round, giggling hysterically. 
“He’s got one of these in his mouth?” cried Patricia.  “He’s actually suc-king on one of these?”
“That’s what they’re for,” said Mandy, matter-of-factly.  “Actually boys seem to like them.  They find them comforting, I think.”
The girls, including the girl Scouts, were ecstatic.  They crowded round the babies to see if they could detect suc-king movements.  The little circles of blusher had long ago been overtaken by real blushes, and their eyes were big with embarrassment.  Janice commented on it.
“Well you’d have wide eyes if you had one of those in your mouth,” giggled Maisy.  “But seriously, I never expected something as amazing as this!  Janice?  Could you hold up their little dresses while I get some snaps?”

The girls made the most of the quarter hour left before the official opening.  The helpless babies were fingered, stroked, and pinched, with particular attention paid to their upper thighs.  The girls took photos and videos to the hearts’ content.  Then they turned their attention to the Scouts.
“Those Scouts look even stupider,” whispered Janice.  “Let’s get some snaps to show the girls.”
“I know,” giggled Maisy.  “Have you ever seen a Scout wearing actual rubber shorts before?”
“They might not like us taking photos,” murmured Marlene.  “though they seem to think they’re pretty cool…”
“I know,” said Patricia.  “That’s what make it even funnier!  We’ll have to be subtle.  Let me ask them.”
She approached the Scouts.
“Your uniforms are so neat, guys!  Could we have a few snaps?”  She did her best, but she couldn’t hide her amusement.  And the boys were already feeling a bit self-conscious.
“No, you can’t!” snapped Danny.  “Miss?  I feel stupid in these gay rainbow shorts!  Why did you insist we put these on today?  It’s gonna be so embarrassing in front of all those ladies.  And there’s definitely no way we’re gonna let these girls take photos of us in them.  So there!”
“Really, Danny, they look very sweet.”
“Exactly!  Why can’t we wear our normal ones?”
“Well…”
“No!  Don’t let them, miss!” cried the girls in unison.  “That would be so boring!”
“You’re boring!” retorted Stephen.
“I’m sorry girls.  It’s true, these are not the standard Scout shorts.  If they insist, I’ll have to let them change, I’m afraid.  Boys?  You all have your proper ones in your bags?”
“Yes, miss.”
“If I let you change, will you pose for the girls then?”
“Yeah, no problem.  Thanks, miss.”
“You can change in my office.  Right there across the corridor,” said Mandy.
The boys retired to change.  The girls were most disappointed.
“Not fair!” said Maisy.  “I’ve never seen a Scout in shorts like that before.  I wanted to show my friends!”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll still find them worth a photo, girls,” smiled Moira.  “Wait and see.”

The girls were about to wander off in search of something more amusing when the boys reappeared, swaggering in proudly in their “standard” shorts.  But since Moira’s innovation, these were of course nothing but latex shorts adapted to Scout regulations with a nod to the troop colours – navy blue with yellow piping.  Not only that, but they were correctly styled, with belt loops for their official Scout belts and simulated pockets, and only departed from standard in having pretty little tight frills around the legs in place of turn-ups.  Silas walked straight up to the girls with a smug look on his face.
“See?  These are our proper shorts.  And guess what?  We’re the only troop in the whole country what has them!”
It was paramount that the girls showed not even the slightest trace of mirth.  Patricia played her part perfectly.  She was some actor, the others agreed when they relived the moment later that morning; especially since the “official” shorts they were now wearing were made of the highest grade of latex, fine, soft and stretchy, that left very little to the imagination.
“Gosh!” she gasped.  “They’re really neat!  Is that true, that no other troop…”
“Absolutely,” interrupted Danny.  “That’s right, isn’t it, miss?”
“It’s perfectly true, girls.  They’re custom made by our supplier.  No-one else has them.”
“And my mum reckons they’re all jealous of us, too,” added Stephen, proudly, sliding his thumbs into his waistband like the authentic dude he thought he was.  Stephen was the biggest boy of the three, in every sense of the word.
“Wow, guys” said Marlene, with a hint of envy in her voice, “I’m not surprised.  They’re so cool…”
“Super cool,” agreed Patricia.  “So…would allow us to…?”  She held up her phone.
“No problem.  Where would you like us?”

A few groups of women were beginning to arrive, making their way up the drive towards the entrance.  Cars were being parked on the other side of the forecourt.
“Maybe on the grass, with the field behind you?” suggested Maisy.
The Scouts willingly made their way onto the grass, the frills of their shorts rustling as they walked.  The girls looked at each other with expressions of delight, which they quickly suppressed as the boys turned around.
“Could you stand in a line, please?  That’s it.”
“Great.  And maybe give the Scout salute?  Perfect.”
The taut, glossy rubber gleamed in the sunlight, accentuating the three variously sized and oriented sausage-shaped bulges.
“Arms around each other.  That’s nice.  Point to your amazing shorts!  Yeah, go!  Hold the frills?  Yes, like that.  Super!”
“You getting this on video, Mais?” murmured Janice, under her breath.
“You bet.”
“Turn around and look back over your shoulders.  Peace sign.  Perfect.  Smile!”

But it was nearly nine, and the group of ladies waiting at the foot of the steps – and enjoying the little tableau on the lawn – was steadily growing.  One in particular seemed particularly fascinated.  She wore a little angora jumper pulled taut by her pointed breasts, faux leather leggings, high-heeled calf-length boots, and little black leather fingerless gloves.  Her sunglasses were pushed up into her blonde hair, and her scarlet lip-gloss matched her long nails.  Mitch would have recognised her immediately – the glamorous Edwina Brentford of the Women’s Institute. 
Moira had to call the Scouts in.
“Boys?  Sorry to interrupt, but…”
“Coming, miss!”
The Scouts ran up the steps, and the girls were finally able to give vent to their feelings, collapsing in hysterics.
“Just wait till the girls see these!” cried Marlene.  “We must find out when they have their next parade.  Second Beckleyford, right?  The whole school will turn out for that!”
Then Shirley appeared at the door.
“Ladies!  Welcome to P and S, all of you!  I’m so grateful you were able to come and see some of the work we do here.  Please feel free to partake of the snacks and drinks on offer in reception.  Then you may either follow one of our guides – the Scouts who have so generously offered to give their time to our cause – or, if you prefer, explore for yourselves.  Lunch will be served between twelve and two in the canteen.  At ten there will a demonstration of our latest innovation in room six, and this afternoon a display of baby-changing by our four young visitors from St. Mary’s School.  Any questions may be directed to me, or to my colleagues Mandy and Debbie.  We also welcome any enquiries for placements.  Well, I see more guest are arriving every minute.  So please, come in – and enjoy!”
 

krystalasbaby2017

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Re: Mitch
« Reply #192 on: February 16, 2023, 01:54:32 PM »
Sandra thank you for the big up date over the last few days.  I like where you left off

RibbonBound

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Re: Mitch
« Reply #193 on: February 16, 2023, 05:33:45 PM »
This is just one of the most amazingly creative stories and I'm loving every minute of it.  I'm a suc-ker for humiliation, and the way you not only keep coming up with new outfits and such cute, adorable little ways of humiliating your charges continues to intrigue with every new chapter!

Thank you so much for sharing this with us.

Sandra B

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Re: Mitch
« Reply #194 on: February 17, 2023, 05:55:58 AM »
140.
Soon reception was packed full of chattering ladies.  Shirley was overjoyed at the response, and concerned her helpers may not be able to cope.  But apart from the Scouts and the St. Mary’s girls, there were the nine remaining boys from Yulya’s class, and some of the longer-standing members of P & S – namely Sam, Jasper, Meredith and Oliver.  Her other worry was whether some of the less broad-minded visitors would be shocked by what they saw.  She and Mandy had discussed the advisability of opening up the milking parlour, and the detention and punishment rooms, for inspection.  But in the end they concluded that hiding these things behind closed doors would simply add to the rumours, which in the long run would be worse than complete openness.  They hoped the enthusiasm of their boys would allay any fears of abuse.

Shirley, fearing a disappointing turnout, had taken the precaution of inviting a few of her old friends.  Grace, Patty and Alice had promised to come, Rachel and the aforementioned Edwina (“Teddy”) Brentford, Sarah from the hen party, and Henrietta, at whose wedding Mitch and Sam had been pageboys.  Lettie was coming, but Lottie and her friends were, to their immense chagrin, prohibited. 
“It’s just for grown-ups,” Lettie had said.  “If you want to see Mitch again, maybe I can persuade him to come round one day.”  She had frowned.  “Though he’s so busy these days he hardly ever bothers to ring me.”
“Not fair!” Lottie had responded.  “Make him come!  Didn’t you say the other day you could make him do anything?”
Lettie laughed.  “I said I could blackmail him.  And I could.”
“Do it then.”
Lettie was angry with Mitch; he had largely been ignoring her in favour of his other interests at school and at P & S.  As retribution she had been fairly liberal with her amorous favours, though none of her boyfriends lasted very long.  But she wanted to punish him for his inattention, and therefore decided to bring the current one along, a guy by the name of Cassidy – (his name tells you everything) - to see if she could ignite his jealousy.  She had also invited her old friend, the supercilious Molly Caulker from Mitch’s school, who, thanks to Lettie, had him well under her thumb.

However, the bulk of the visitors was made up the mothers or aunts of recalcitrant adolescent boys, ladies with a professional interest in their treatment, and those who were simply curious whether the rumours about what went on behind those big doors were true – and hoping they were!  Of course, few were true, and by opening P & S up to public scrutiny, Shirley was hoping to demonstrate that everything that happened inside her walls was ultimately – she stressed that word – ultimately for the benefits of “her” lads.

Shirley and the staff were beginning to organise the visitors into groups of about a dozen, allocating each one to a guide.  First they had to virtually drag some of them away from the babies, who were getting a good pawing from a crowd of admirers, amongst whom Teddy Brentford was prominently placed.  The sharp nails that had for the last few minutes been gently scratching the inside of Luke’s thigh were now exploring the soft latex of his pants, while all the time she looked him straight in the eye.  However, instead of exhibiting the anticipated symptoms of arousal, his brow furrowed and his eyes started to water.
“Hmph,” she murmured.  “What’s wrong with you, boy?  I’ll be back later, don’t worry.”
She transferred her attention to the tour groups, and, having already made her choice of guide when the Scouts were lined up on the lawn, quickly attached herself to Stephen’s group. 
The St. Mary’s girls wondered what they should do next.  Then they heard Mandy call to Yulya.
“Yulya dear?  Could you organise some milk for the babies?  They should have a feed soon.”
“Yes, Miss Mandy.”
Janice gave a sudden gasp, and grabbed Marlene by the shoulder.
“What’s up, Jan?”
“Milk!  The babies need milk!”
She pushed her way over to Yulya.  “Miss Yulya.  We’ll get the milk for the babies.  We won’t be long.”
“Thank you.  You very helpful girls.”
She made her way back to the others.  “Come on!  While everyone else is busy!  Let’s go milk the cows!”


krystalasbaby2017

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Re: Mitch
« Reply #195 on: February 18, 2023, 06:41:39 AM »
Oh looks like the girls going to have fun with the babies love it

 

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Website, forum design, software, & security on this site is copyrighted. It was made personally by Betty Pearl, of Betty Pearl's Pubs, Sissy Stories, buffalobetties, pearlcorona. Betty's Pub is a non-profit organization & support group for the transgendered, & Fetware community. We don't sell anything, & we don't data mine your personal information & habits to sell like MOST other sites do. We respect your privacy & won't sell it out for a few bucks.

Site for: Sissy Stories, ABDL Stories, Sissy Art, Crossdressing, Transgender