The Settlement

[Paddybaby]

Philp is broken how and to be honest put up a fight way to late.
I’m sure he’ll be a happy baby when Mary is finished with him or should I say her.??

[Sissy Little Girl]

Sandra B, Madison, Janice and Freida are having a ball filming Philip during his maid service.  Poor Philip is aroused and he is mortified.  Then comes the guest.  Christabel, Mary and Jill seem to have alterior motives regarding Philip.  It sounds like he is going to go thru some extensive baby training.  Soundls like fun.

Great Job. 8) 8) 8) 8) 8) 8) 8) 8) 8) 8)

[Sandra B]

Chapter 34.  A Promising Prospect. 

Philip worked hard during their meal, running in and out with food, plates, and drinks.  He waited on whichever of the girls was at the kitchen table with equal assiduity, and immediately acquiesced in Freida's request that he address them as “madam”.  Freida also suggested it would be respectful if he curtsied after each attendance, which demand he also complied with, much to the amusement of the ladies, who left their table to witness this act of submission, and of Janie, who made sure to film it, insisting he repeat the obeisance until everyone was satisfied it was of sufficient merit to warrant permanent record.
“You should use the paddle more often,” whispered Christabel to Estella.  “If I could use one at school there’d be a lot less discipline problems, I know.”
“Well you can always indulge yourself here, dear.  It’s not difficult to find fault with the awkward little rascal.”
Christabel's eyes lit up.  “I might just take you up on that…”
“Well done, Philip.  I’m so glad you’re taking your duties seriously.  Keep it up,” smiled Estella.
“He’s such a sweet little maid,” said Janie, enthusiastically. “I love the feeling of being waited on by him.  It makes me feel special somehow.”
“You know what?” said Estella.  “After you’ve finished your project, edited the film and everything, all the girls should come here for a little party.  And Philip can wait on all of you.”
“Oh, that’s such a great idea!” exclaimed Freida.  “Would you really let us?”
“Certainly.  It’d be fun.  You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Philip?”
Philip’s bottom was still throbbing.
“Yes, aunt.  Very much, aunt.”
“There you are.  We’ll make a date.”
“Could he wear his pink dress that day?” asked Janie, innocently.
“If you’d prefer it, of course.”
“And pink panties?” asked Freida.
“Naturally.  Actually, girls, he has some very pretty elasticated pink baby pants he could wear.  They’d go well with his uniform.  And they’d give him a bit more freedom.  He’d need it, with all you girls to attend to.”
“Ooh, yes,” grinned Janie, “that would be so cool.”

The ladies returned to their dining-table to wait for Philip to serve pudding.  It was home-made chocolate cake with cream.  All four had arrived at that time in life when chocolate cake and cream ceases to be a temptation to be resisted, and becomes a luxury to be indulged in without remorse.  As Philip served Jill, she arrested him by the simple device of hooking her fingers in the top of one stocking.
“Philip?”
“Yes, miss?”
“Philip.  After you've visited Mary here, would you like to spend a week or two with me?”
“Er…I don’t know, miss.  I..er...I don’t know what my aunt has planned for the summer.”
“Oh, of course you may go, Philip. We’ll miss you, of course, being away for all that time.  But I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself.”
“You can be one of my trainees.  It may help you in your…quest.”
“My quest?”
“Your quest to become a girl.  I train boys through a number of stages” – here she released his stocking top and slipped her fingers under the leg of his panties – “until they finally achieve womanhood.”
“R-really?”
“Yes.  Whether voluntarily or…otherwise.”  She gave him a rapacious look.
“O-otherwise?”
“Otherwise.”  She declined to enlarge on the word.
Philip shuddered.  That didn’t sound promising.  He was trying to think of a noncommittal way of responding.
“I…er…I think I might be busy…I’ll probably have a project to do….”
“Of course not, Philip,” cut in Christabel.  “Your exams will be over, and you’ll be free for the rest of the summer.  If your place at uni is confirmed, all that will happen is you’ll have to do a bit of reading.”
“That’s settled then,” said his aunt, brightly.  “What a lovely holiday you’re going to have, darling!”
Philip stood there, dumb.  What could he say?  He daren’t demur.  Jill’s fingers had released his panties, and now her hand was moving gently up and down his bare thigh.  He felt his erection growing again.  He moved as if to pull away, but she held him there for a while, her eyes on the front of his panties, a lascivious gleam in her eyes.  He was acutely aware of the proximity of her fingertips to the source of his discomfiture, and her sharp little fingernails probed his flesh with almost imperceptible pressure.  He stood there, the colour rising in his cheeks, his heart thumping, the ladies all looking at his face, Freida filming.  He didn’t know how to detach himself without appearing rude.  Quite against his will, he was now fully tumescent, the latex taut over his throbbing member. 
“Well?” said his aunt.  “Aren’t you going to thank Jill for her kind offer?”
“Y-yes, of course.”  He looked down at his tormentor.  She was smiling with satisfaction, her subtle ministrations having achieved her end with such consummate success.
“Th-thank you Jill.  I’d love to come.”
“I’m sure you would,” she replied, archly, making the most of the unintended double-entendre.  She released him. 
“Maybe some more wine?”  suggested Estella, looking around at her guests.  “Philip?  Another bottle of the Chablis, please.”
“Yes, miss.  Right away.”  He felt completely tamed.  He thought of attempting to conceal his overwrought state from the camera, but any attempt would only have drawn more attention.  So he walked with little steps to the kitchen, and though he wasted as much time as he thought he could get away with, things had barely improved when he returned with the fresh bottle.  Christabel made some remark under her breath, and everyone at the table exploded in laughter.  It was going to be a long evening.
 

[Sandra B]

Chapter 35.  Upskirted.

Tina returned at midnight with a friend from work, and they joined the party.  Philip was kept busy supplying everyone, and feeding the dishwasher at the same time.  There seemed to be an inexhaustible supply of booze, and they all made the most of it.  It was nearly two when the conversation finally started to lag, and there was a consensus for bed.  As Philip busied himself clearing the last of the glasses, Estella organised the sleeping arrangements.  There were four bedrooms.  Tina and her friend were allocated hers, Estella and Christabel hers, Mary and Jill the downstairs one, which left the girls and Philip.
“Philip, you’ll have to sleep on the sofa tonight.  The girls can have your room.”
“Yes, aunt.” 
He didn’t mind that.  At least he wouldn’t have to share with any of them.
“So go and get changed for bed, please.  I’ll find you a pillow and a blanket.”
“Aunt?  Can’t I change here, when…”
“Do as I say, please, Philip!”
It was the final humiliation of the night.  He retired to his room, and reappeared in his pink nightie and bloomers.  At Tina's suggestion, everyone had stayed up to admire his nightwear, and the camera was started once again.  The ladies were pretty well pissed, and became helpless with giggles, Mary and Jill eventually staggering or crawling to their room.  When he was finally alone, he collapsed on the sofa and fell asleep almost at once, exhausted more by the mental tension than the work.  His last thought was that Freida and Janie, ensconced in his room, would undoubtedly take the opportunity to explore his wardrobe.  But he was too tired to care any more.   
He was woken early, by the orange morning sunlight streaming through the French windows.  Someone had put out his school uniform, folded neatly on a chair - even his underpanties and his shoes.  He guessed it must have been Tina, and for once he blessed her for her thoughtfulness.  He went to the bathroom to shower, and emerged fully dressed before anyone else was up.  He decided to skip his maid’s uniform – he couldn’t imagine any of the women would be up before he left, and he was right.  Tina was able to give them all a lift that morning, so he was spared the ordeal of walking to school and being filmed at the same time.
Freida followed him around in the playground before lessons, but he was able to relax and ignore her.  Sandy took the first period, but there wasn’t much she could do except set the camera up at the front of the class, next to the teacher’s desk, and let it run.  He heard murmurings amongst his classmates about how pointless it all was.  At the bell for break, Rebecca kicked the back on his leg.
“This is boring.  If the whole film’s like this, it’ll be rubbish.  Thought you supposed to be some sort of star?”   
Well it’s not all like this, he thought.  But she’s right.  I need to be more proactive.
The form remained together for the second period.  They had Miss Sangster.  Jacqueline took over on the camera.  So he decided to demonstrate what a clever pupil he was.  At every question his hand shot up, and some glib answer slid from his lips.  Of course, Miss Sangster was impressed – and pleased.  She wasn’t used to her students taking such an active part in lessons.  But Rebecca was just irritated. 
“Little show-off!” she whispered to Valerie.  “Why doesn’t 'e just shut up?  Makin' the rest of us look bad...”
And indeed, at that very moment Miss Sangster remarked,
“Girls, it would be nice to hear from someone apart from Philip.  His input is always welcome, always insightful, of course, but the rest of you might as well be tailors’ dummies today.”
Philip couldn’t suppress a slight smirk.  This was going to look great on his film.  He was bound to impress his audience, particularly the lower school.  It would make up in some way for the indignities of the weekend.  But several of the girls looked daggers at him.  And Rebecca bunched her fists, and would probably have punched him in the back had not Valerie given her a cautionary look.

At lunch Philip found himself ignored by most of his classmates.  Inna followed him around dutifully, and so as not to appear unpopular, he struck up a conversation with Sadie – rather to her surprise.  She took the opportunity to tease him about what she had heard of the weekend’s filming.
“If what Freida says is true, Philip, that film of yours is gonna be a big hit.  It is gonna get a public screening, isn’t it?”
“It’s not my film, Sadie.  And in any case, I’m going to have a say in the editing, so don’t get your hopes up.”
“That’s not what I heard.  In any case, all the girls have copied their episodes, so we’re gonna get to see the whole thing whether you want it or not!”
Philip froze.  Could that be true?  He shivered at the thought.  He would report this to Miss Lambert.  This very day.  After school.  For now he had better things to think about.  The next period was English, with Miss Waters, and he had memorised the Keats perfectly.  He was looking forward to showing the class how a poem should be recited. 
In class, Miss Waters was talking about the Romantic period.  Katsumi already had the camera set up, just to the left of her desk, and she sat neatly beside it, ready to adjust focus or zoom where appropriate.
“…and in a few minutes we shall hear Philip recite the ‘Ode to Autumn’, a good example of the sensuousness the writers of this school aspired to…”
Philip fidgeted in his seat, eager to disburden himself of the lines with which his head was filled.  Rebecca groaned quietly. 
“'ere we go again, Val.  What a pain in the butt!”
The great moment arrived.  Philip stood up, and pushed his chair under his desk.  He began, oozing confidence.
“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness…”
Several of the girls wearily rested their foreheads on their hands.  Rebecca wasn’t the only one who’d had enough of him for one day.  She stared at his butt, right in front of her face.  The backs of his thighs were pressed against the front of her desk.
“…and fill all fruit with ripeness to the core…”
She wasn’t going to sit there and endure this without doing something to demonstrate her contempt.  She had an idea.  She picked up her ruler, and used it gently to lift the back of his skirt.  Philip didn’t even notice.  Valerie had to cover her mouth to silence her giggles.
“Look,” whispered Rebecca delightedly, “it’s dolls and girlie toys today!  On a pretty pink background!”
And indeed, Philip was wearing a new pair of his special panties.  But then Rebecca looked closer.  The right leg of his panties had ridden up an inch, and peeping out from underneath was something that made Rebecca’s eyes widen.
“Val!  Look!  There!”
“What’s that?”
“He’s wearing little rubber panties underneath!  Oh, god, this is…”  She put down her ruler.
“…For summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells…”
“What you doin’?”
“Revenge is sweet…”

[Sandra B]

Chapter 36.  Hand Aid.

Philips legs were planted slightly apart.  Deftly, Rebecca slipped her left hand between his thighs, making sure to keep it above his hemline.  Philip gave a jolt of surprise, and closed his legs quickly, trapping her arm.  Nikki, who was sitting sideways on Philip’s inside, nearly burst out laughing, and had to affect a fit of coughing.  Philip, startled, momentarily forgot where he was in the poem, and stood there, open-mouthed, looking alarmed.
“Well, Philip?” asked Miss Waters.  “Go on.  Unless you’ve forgotten the second verse.”
“N-no, miss.  No.  Not at all…”
He collected himself, tried to ignore the arm pressed into his crotch, and the cool hand now wrapped around his left thigh, and continued, albeit haltingly.
“W-who hath not seen thee oft amid thy st-store…”
Rebecca decided to explore.  She rotated her arm through ninety degrees, and gently cupped him in the palm of her hand.  He stiffened and clenched his buttocks with surprise.  He halted his recitation, and gulped.
“Yes?”  said Miss Waters, becoming impatient.
“…er…s-sitting careless on a g-granary floor…”
Rebecca whispered to Valerie.
“Mmm, he makes a great hand-warmer.  But I think I’m going to explore a bit further.”
Valerie covered her mouth and sniggered.  She looked about her.  A few of the girls behind them could see something was going on.  Nikki was sitting sideways, back resting on the wall, with an expectant smile on her face, awaiting developments.  But most of the class were attributing Philip’s distress to the failure of his memory.
Rebecca released Philip’s compact scrotum, and started worming her fingers in between his outer and his inner panties.  The latex was taut, warm and smooth to the touch.  She found the base of the shaft, and without hesitating, took it delicately between finger and thumb, like a nurse feeling a pulse.  Philip gasped audibly, and gripped the back of his chair more tightly.
“Philip?  Are you all right?” asked Miss Waters, with mild concern.
“Y-yes, miss.  Yes, thank you, I’m fine…”
“You’re sure?  Well come on then.  Please try and recite a bit more smoothly than you have been.  You’re not doing Keats any favours, I think.”
“No, miss.  I mean, yes miss…”
He continued.
“Thy hair…they hair…s-soft-lifted by…by the w-w-winnowing wind…”
The light touch of Rebecca’s fingertips was having the predictable effect.  He fought against it, but it was beyond his control.
“He does like me, Val!  I knew 'e did!”
She began to explore higher.  It was growing and hardening all the time, lengthening as if trying to escape her investigations.  Philip’s recitation was going to pieces.
“Drows’d with the…ah…the fume of…ooh…p-poppies…”
Everyone was staring at him.  Katsumi was now behind the camera, alternating the focus between full-length shots and close-ups of his face.  Could it be he was overwhelmed by the beauty and sublimity of the poem?   The colour was rising in his cheeks, and he was squirming inexplicably.  Miss Waters was bemused, but was as curious as everyone else to find out what was going on, so she refrained from any further interventions.
Rebecca was almost at the top, now.  She could feel it pulsing , and quivering with arousal.  She reached the swollen head, and gave it a little experimental squeeze.  Philip was in the middle of a line.
“S-steady they laden h-head – oh, no!  No, please – across a b-brook…”
But she was not turning back now.  Holding it between thumb and middle finger , she placed her index finger of the tip, which was almost pressing against the waistband of his panties.
“Thou watchest…watchest the last oo…oozings…”
He got no further.  Rebecca, registering that the latex at this point was well-lubricated,  had begun to rotate her fingertip.  The result was immediate, and, satisfied that she had achieved her end, she quickly withdrew her hand and sat back at her desk, folded her arms, and assumed a disinterested and virtuous expression, leaving her victim to enjoy his climax unmolested.  Poor Philip had endured such a long period of frustration, that self-control was almost out of the question.  His orgasm overwhelmed his consciousness, blotting out nearly everything else.  Nearly everything.  Yet his innate decency and sense of duty – not to mention his vanity – kept him conscious he was standing in his classroom, in front of his classmates and his teacher, and prompted him to strive to maintain some small shred of dignity.  So instead of utterly giving way to his ecstasy,  he stood rigidly upright, grasping the back of his chair, eyes tight shut, and even tried to continue his recitation, all the while jolted with spasms of intense pleasure.
“Where are…oh…where are…oh,oh…the…oh, god…the songs of ….ahh…”
Miss Waters stared, open-mouthed.
“What…what’s going on…?  Philip!”
But no reply was forthcoming.  Eventually, with a great sigh, he collapsed forward on his hands, panting for breath.  There was silence in the room.
“S-sorry, miss,” he managed to gasp out.  “I-I think I lost the thread…”
“Sit down, Philip!” she said, severely.  She stared at him, unsure how to proceed.  One of the girls snorted with laughter.
“Winny?  Quiet please!”  She paused.  “Philip.  What just happened?”
“Please, miss….”
“Well?”
“Nothing, miss….really…”
“Miss?  I think….I think he came!”  said Winny, bluntly.
“Well?  Did you?”
Philip hung his head.
“You did, didn’t you?”
“I…couldn’t help it, miss…”
“Was it the poem?”
“The poem, miss?  Oh…yes, it was the poem…”
“You weren’t thinking rude thoughts?”
“No, miss, no, of course not!”
“Bet he was!” put in Winny, in an undertone.
“Quiet, girls.  Well, Philip.  You know I’m going to have to take you to the head?  We can’t have that sort of thing during lessons, now can we?”
Rebecca was convulsed with silent laughter.  But many of the girls looked doubtful.
“Miss?” said one, “Don’t you think….I mean, he could get expelled, couldn’t he?”
Miss Waters was fairly confident that was the last thing Miss Tancred would do.  But she respected the regard his classmates had for him.
“Yes, miss,” added the class prefect, Denise.  “Couldn’t you punish him yourself?  If it happens again, then you could send him to Miss Tancred.”
There was a chorus of support for this suggestion.  Miss Waters was impressed by Philip's apparent popularity.  She thought for a minute, then nodded.
“All right.  But Philip?  It must never happen again, understand?  What you do outside school is your business.  But here…”
“Yes, miss.  I understand, miss.  It won’t happen again.”
“Right,  A hundred lines, then, by tomorrow.  “I must not masturbate in class.”  And you can read them out to us at registration, to make sure you don’t forget.”
“Yes, miss,” Philip said, repentantly.
Meanwhile Katsumi was ecstatic.  This has to be the best episode of all, she said to herself.  I can’t wait to get it downloaded.

After school, Rebecca thought she better make herself scarce.  But as she went to vacate the classroom, Philip stopped her.
“Rebecca, can I have a word?”
Oh, god.  Here it comes, she thought.
But it was not what she expected.  Whether it was gratitude, or admiration, or realisation, was not clear to her at that moment.  Nor to Philip.
“I just wanted to apologise for the other day.”
She looked startled.  “Apologise?”
“Yes.  I was stupid.  And rude.  I’m sorry.”
“Well, that’s okay.  It’s all forgotten.  We’re even, anyway.”
There was an awkward silence.
“I just wanted to say, Rebecca…”
“Yes?”
“If you ever still wanted to go for a drink…you know…I’d really love to.”
She stared at him.  She didn’t want to appear too eager.
“Well, if you really want to…I suppose…okay.”
“Maybe Friday?  I’ll ask my aunt to give me the evening off.”
“Okay.  You’re on.” 
“Great.  I have to go see Miss Lambert now.  Look forward to Friday.”
So it was settled. 

[Sissy Little Girl]

Sandra B, those were three supercharged chapters.  Between his maid service and his being filmed, and his recitation of the poem and Rebecca playing with his joy stick, Philip has had quit a time.  Thanks for posting those chapters, they were fantastic. :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D

[Sandra B]

Chapter 37.  A Fairy Story.

Freya had taken the camera off its tripod, and had been joined by Shaniya, whose job it was to do the last shift.  She took the camera, put in a new memory card, and accompanied him to find Miss Lambert.  When they eventually caught up with her outside the staffroom, she had her coat on and was about to leave.
“Philip!  How are you?  How’s the filming been going?”
Philip had wanted to see her for one reason only; to complain that the girls were keeping copies of their films, with all the most embarrassing bits in.  But now he was face-to-face, his resolve failed him.  Why would he tell on them?  It would only antagonise them.  And he needed all the friends he could get.  There was something else.  He liked all of them – well, maybe with the exception of Freida – and he felt a sort of bond with them now they had seen the most secret parts of his life.  So he was suddenly at a loss what to say.
“Oh, oh, er, very well, Miss Lambert.  I just wanted to say…it’s been fun…oh, and to ask you – will I be included in the editing process?  I just wondered.  I think I’d like to join the Society, and it would be good experience.”
“Of course, Philip.  I’m so glad you have a genuine interest.  And we’re not just about filmmaking, you know.  Look, sorry, I have to rush, but I’ll see you on Thursday then?”
“Yes, miss.  Thank you.”
He turned to Shaniya.  “Come on, let’s get home.  I’m tired and starving.”
“I’m not surprised, Philip.”
He gave her a look.  Word travels fast here, he thought.

His aunt was in uncharacteristically ebullient mood.  She kissed him on the cheek, and embraced Shaniya.  Surely she couldn’t know…no, impossible.  In fact, she was in such a good mood that she told him he could wear anything he liked that evening, and was excused from maid duties.  Well, they already had more maid footage than anyone could ever want, anyway.  So he went and explored his wardrobe, and dressed in a long-sleeved lemon blouse, brown pleated shirt, tights and flat shoes.  He also took the opportunity to refresh his makeup, and put on yellow earrings and a matching necklace.  He felt very comfortable.
If I was always allowed to wear what I wanted, I’d never want to wear men’s clothes again, he thought; then checked himself with surprise.  Did I really just think that?  He returned downstairs, where Shaniya and his aunt were engaged in animated conversation about Miss Tancred.  He flopped into an armchair.
“That outfit’s very pretty on you, Philip,” remarked his aunt.
“Yes, Philip, it is.  Please stand up and do a twirl so I can film it.”
He obliged.  He was in a good mood himself.  Filming was nearly at an end, and he could smell nice smells coming from the kitchen. 

After Tina got home, they sat round and ate supper together.  Tina and Shaniya started talking about fashion, and he found himself getting involved in the conversation. 
“My cousin seems to have very strong views on the subject, remarked Tina,” with a smile.
“Well, he’s one of the best-dressed students in the school,” replied Shaniya, approvingly.  “He’s always neat and tidy.  They say girls are the worst for tidiness, don’t they?”
“They’re the best at untidiness, for sure,” quipped Philip.

Shaniya had to be home by eight-thirty, and Tina offered to drive her.  Philip said he’d like to go too.  Shaniya’s mother invited them in for a quick drink.  She was very welcoming, and, after she’d greeted Tina, she turned to Philip.
“I’ve heard so much about you, Philip.  You seem to be very popular with the girls.  I can see why.”
He made some conventional reply.  At that moment, a little girl of about seven, wearing blue pyjamas, wandered into the room.
“Kimona – meet Tina and Philip.  Philip’s at Shaniya’s school.”
She looked at them curiously.  “Mummy, I’m tired.  I want to go to bed.”
“All right, darling.  Go up and get into bed.  I’ll be up in a minute to tell you a story.”
“No,” pointing at Philip, “ I want him to tell me a story.” 
Everyone laughed.
“She’s taken a shine to you,” said her mum.  “Kim, dear, Philip hasn’t got time right now.”
“I don’t mind,” said Philip.  He was thinking of Delia and Sammy.  He missed them so much.
“Come up now.”
He grinned.  “All right, Kim.”  And to the others, “Excuse me.  I won’t be long.”

When Kim was snuggled down in bed, Philip sat next to her.  He wasn’t bad at stories.
“Why are you dressed as a girl?” asked Kimona, bluntly.
“Just cos I feel like it.  Boys and girls can dress just as they please.”
“What’s my story going to be?”
“Do you like fairies?”
“Yes…”
“Okay.  Had you ever wondered why there are no boy fairies, only girls?”
“No….” she said slowly.  “Why?”
“Well, I’ll tell you.  All fairies were once babies, of course.  But usually, boy babies are not allowed to be fairies, so soon after they are born, the Fairy Mother weeds them out and sends them off to pixie-land to be pixies.  They grow up quickly and they all dress in little pixie suits, with tunics and little skirts made of leaves, and tights and little pointy pixie caps.  Did you know, fairies and pixies grow up very quickly. Much quicker than humans.  They grow as much in one year as we grow in fifteen.  And then they stay how they are forever.”
“So do they go to school?”
“No.  They don’t need to, because they’re born with all the knowledge and cleverness they will ever need, which is much more than we have.”
“Do the boys like being made into pixies?”
“Oh, yes, very much.  Usually, anyway.  They’re only allowed to see the Fairy Mother, who’s quite old and a little bit grumpy, so they’re quite happy to be sent to pixie-land.  But just occasionally, something goes wrong.  I’ll tell you about one little boy baby.  His name was Peter.  He had had a busy day playing with his toys in the nursery along with all the other boy babies, and he fell asleep like all the rest when he was put down.  But in the middle of the night he heard a sound, like the opening of the door, which woke him up.  He was the only baby awake in the whole nursery.  He opened his eyes, and….do you know what he saw?”
“What did he see?”
“He saw the most beautiful thing he could imagine.  One of the fairies – a very pretty one – had sneaked into the nursery to see the boy babies she had heard about..  She  was wearing a beautiful sparkly silver dress, her hair was piled up and pinned nicely, and her little wings were opening and closing slowly with fascination.  He watched her until she crept out of the room, and then he fell back to sleep.  In the morning, he asked the Fairy Mother who she was.  But the Fairy Mother just got angry, and told him he’d been dreaming.  But he knew he hadn’t been dreaming, and all he could think about was that beautiful fairy who’d visited them in the night.
Anyway, after a few days, off he went with the other babies to pixie-land,  They travelled in green coach pulled by purple and green caterpillars, which felt funny because the coach kept stopping and starting all the way.  But when they arrived and were being unloaded, Peter made sure he was the last to be taken out, then hid under the seat.  “Oh,” said the pixie coachman, “I thought there was one more, but he must have gone.  Well, I’d better be getting back to fairy-land.”  And away went the caterpillar coach, back to the fairy-land stables.”
“What did he do then?”
“Well, in the middle of the night, he crept out of the coach, and went wandering off.  He discovered the stables were in the grounds of a beautiful silver palace.  He was entranced.  No-one had ever told him anything about such a place.  The doors were made of glittery glass, and opened silently when he pushed them.  Inside he could hear a faint distant sound, like a summer breeze across a meadow.  He made his way towards it, along a silver corridor which seemed to be lit with moonlight.  At the end of the corridor, there was a silver curtain.  Softly he drew it aside.  Do you know what he saw?”
“What did he see?”
“He saw a long room, with a row of little beds on each side, and in each bed there lay a little fairy, her wings opening and closing as she breathed.  Trembling, he made his way between the rows, looking at each one.  And then he saw a figure he recognised.  It was the little fairy who had been in the nursery that night.  He stopped and stared at her.  She must have felt his gaze, because she opened her eyes and stared back at him.  Then she sat up.  “Hello.  What are you doing here?” she said.  Poor Peter was very shy, and didn’t know what to say.  But the fairy beckoned him over, and gently pulled him into bed, and cuddled him till he fell asleep.  In the morning, all the other fairies were amazed to find him there.  Mother Fairy was summoned, and was horrified to find a boy in fairy-land.  What were they to do?”
“What did they do?”
“Well, they couldn’t send him back to pixie-land, because then he’d tell all the babies there and half of them would want to come back.  So they did the only thing they could.  They let him stay and be a fairy, with fairy dresses and a fairy wand, and everything.  And because of the magic air in fairy-land, as he grew, he grew a pair of filmy, rainbow-coloured wings, too.  And he lived there happily ever after.”
“I would like to be a fairy,” said Kim, drowsily.  “Would you?”
“Yes, I would.  Perhaps you will be?”
But she was fast asleep.