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MY NEW WORLD Chapter 1. I lay on my back on the bed, naked as the day I was born, my legs held up in slings. Sister, for that is what she was, leaned over me, smiling, as she slid her fingers over my breasts. "Now then," she murmured, "let us see how different we have made you." Her long red finger nails slid over my nipple and I felt it harden. I also felt something else harden. That was between my legs and was, unlike my breasts, something that I had been born with. Unable to control myself, my whole body twitched, sending my legs swinging wide apart. She giggled. "That was fun, wasn't it?" I moaned as her fingers caressed my now hardening nipples. "Oh, please, Sister, what have I done to deserve this," I pleaded, tears welling in my eyes. She smiled down at me. "Well, my little Precious, your mummy wanted you to be something useful instead of a perfect little horror." I started to struggle in my leg restraints. "Now then, my Precious, don't do that, or we shall have to calm you down again and you don't really like that, do you?" I shook my head but still attempted to prevent her from playing with my nipples. "I did warn you, little Precious," she murmured and transferred her hands to my male organ which was by now thrusting up over my lower belly. I burst into tears as she stroked and caressed me, stopping every time I started to arch my back. She stood upright waiting for me to recover. Then her hands moved again, to my lower belly, pressing into the root of my organ until once more I started to arch my back. She stopped again. Smiling down at me she waited once more. I knew that she intended to carry out her threat, but I seemed to have some sort of compulsion that drove me to accept or resist her overtures; I'm never quite sure. Did I do as I was doing now in order to be punished, or was it because by now I liked it. Whatever the reason, I had almost come to accept my new world for what it was. I relaxed and Sister started her fingers moving again. This time it slid up the inside of my leg, just above the knee. She leaned over me, her perfume flooding into my nostrils as I snorted air in and out as her fingers once more brought me closer to her desired conclusion. Upwards her fingers moved, slowly, inexorably exploring the tender flesh of my inner thigh. Although my wrists were strapped together and then secured to the top of the bed head rail, I could turn my head slightly sideways and could see her white stockings below her ever so short white nurse's skirt. Pretty lace topped her stockings, which were held in place by white suspender straps. I knew all about stockings, from wearing my mother's when she was out. Which was one of the reasons that I was here, strapped to a bed, being manipulated by a Sister and being called 'little Precious'. Her fingers reached the base of my scrotum and I could only clench my thighs as I anticipated her next move. I was right. Her fingers lightly touched my organ and as they did, she leaned over me and her tongue reached out and touched the tip of my erection. I arched my back and her lips slid over me, drawing me further into warm wetness. GOD, how I hated/loved this!! Her tongue wound round me, as she sucked me deeper and deeper into her mouth. I could feel her teeth gently closing on my rampant organ, teasing again and again as her tongue flicked along the length of my rigid boy thing. I screamed at her to stop but I think now, that I was begging her to continue. Her hand pressed down firmly on my belly, preventing me from arching higher. Her other hand slid between my parted buttocks and I knew why she was doing that. I felt the end of it ease between my buttocks and a hard, cold object slid easily into my derriere even though I tried to prevent it by clenching my buttocks as hard as I could. Then the vibrations started, as I knew they would. Sister sucked harder and slower, her tongue licking my 'head'. I gave one last scream as I exploded in her mouth, unable to control myself at all as she sucked harder and harder, milking me completely. She led go of my organ, her smiling face moving above mine. She leaned down to me and I tried to turn my face away from her, but her hand moved quickly and gripping my chin, holding it so that she could press her soft painted lips against mine. Her tongue slid between my lips forcing them apart and giving me no other alternative, than to open my lips and accept my own seed into my mouth. GOD, how I hated/loved that!! She left me on the bed, sobbing my eyes out, the tears running down my face onto the pillow. I could taste the saltiness of my discharge inside my mouth all the time cried, some mingling with the salty tears as they ran into the corners of my mouth. The object in my derriere buzzed and vibrated all the time, giving me more erotic feelings and making me wiggle my hips in an attempt to force it out. Exasperated, I started shouting, "For God's sake, stop, stop, stop, this is driving me mad." I heard Sister come back through the door; her heels tap, tap, tapping on the hard floor. Stopping beside my bed, she put her hands on her hips and stared down at me. "Well, well, little Precious," she said, "so you have not quite learned to behave yet, have you." I positively shrieked at her, "Let me up, let me up, I can't stand any more of this." Her reply was to laugh. "My, my, little Precious, you will stand as much of this as we say you will, but you can now get up and we can carry on. We still need your height and more information about your developement here." She loosened my hands from the bed head and let the slings down so that my legs were once more on the bed. But she left the vibrating object in my derriere. She slapped my thigh. "Get up, my Precious," and I dutifully slid my now free legs from the bed and stood before her, eyes lowered and my hands covering my organ. She slapped my arm. "Hands at your sides at all times, my dear, if you don't mind," she snapped. I stood before her, displaying my new breasts and my male organ, ashamed to be seen thus. Sister pointed to the wall where a height recorder stood. Carefully, I moved over to it, almost girly-like on the balls of my bare feet, aware that my organ was swinging and my breasts were swaying from side to side in a fluid movement that I actually found erotic. At least they did not just stay still like a lump of plastic. Sister backed me up to the height recorder and made the necessary adjustments. Once she recorded my height, waist, bust and hips followed; all carefully filled in on my medical record sheet. All the time, the vibrator buzzed quietly in my derriere and had the effect of making sure that my organ stayed erect. She took it in her hand and laughed as she said, "This as well, we need to know everything about you for your mummy, when we send our report at the end of the month." She looked at the rule in her hand. "Not bad, not bad at all, you will be pleased to know, my Precious that your boy-thing is one of the biggest we have had up to now." I'm sorry to say that I blushed deep scarlet at that and lowered my eyes even more. Sister took hold of my organ and led me across to a set of scales. "Up, Precious." Carefully I stepped up onto the platform and she took my by now rampant organ and slid it into a clamp which was part of the scales. She tightened the clamp around the base of my organ then she looped a metal belt around my upper legs so that I was held with my scrotum up to the end of the clamp. Her rule came out again and once more Sister cooed as she saw the new length. "Don't move, my little Precious," she said, "I have to introduce you to your new room mate." So saying, she left me attached to the scales, and left the room. Minutes later, she returned, followed by a girl about my age, wearing a top and short skirt. I realised with horror that she was just like me, for a male organ thrust rigidly from below the short skirt. Sister saw the look of shock on my face and laughed as she addressed the girl. "Do your duty, Melody," she said. Melody smirked as she replied, "Yes, Sister," and minced across the room to stand in front of me. Her male organ thrust out under the hem of her short skirt as she smiled shyly at me as she dropped to her knees. Her hand gripped my organ gently as she offered her painted lips to the crown of my maleness, touching it with her extended tongue. I moaned as Sister stood behind me, her hand flat against the small of my back. Involuntarily I tightened my muscles as Melody slid her wet lips over my shaft, drawing it in, and then releasing me, before once more sucking in short, sharp motions, until I was entirely inside her mouth. I gave a low moan and tried to step back, but Sister pressed her hand more firmly against my back, and even without that pressure, my organ was firmly held in its clamp thus holding me at the mercy of Melody's searching lips and tongue. I don't know how long I stood like that, but suddenly I could not prevent myself from thrusting against the clamp as I felt myself about to climax once more. I screamed and burst into tears as I ejaculated into Melody's mouth and would have collapsed to the floor had I been able to. I felt my organ released and my tormentor stood up, smiling at me with her mouth oozing my seed. She dipped in curtsey to me, and then turned to Sister, curtseying again. Her nipples bulged through her thin top and her massively rampant organ thrust from the hem of her skirt. "Thank you, Melody, you may return to your class now and we shall see you later when we have our little Precious ready for her schooling," said Sister and gave her a kiss on her cheek. Then she turned to me. "Such a sweet child; you are SO lucky to be her room mate." Melody minced from the room, her derriere barely covered by her skimpy skirt. Sister said, "Now then Precious, stay there and I shall be back shortly." So saying she left me alone, tethered to the scales and with only my own thoughts as company. I suppose I could have released myself if I tried, but I also knew what the consequences would be, so I stayed where I was. That was my introduction to the Middle Academy. ************************** Chapter 2 This all started when I was fifteen. I had had a particularly bad week at school and had been teased by some of the girls in my class. They had been teasing me for weeks but until then, I had been able to ride out their teasing. After school as we were leaving the yard, two of them continued their bullying, calling me all sorts of names and laughing at me for not being like my friend Martin who played every sport like a professional. I couldn't take it any more and lashed out with my fists, knocking Samantha down and giving Jean a bloody nose. My step-sister Sophie also earned a hard push that knocked her down. At least it stopped the bullying, but when I got home, my step-mother was waiting for me, lips tightly pressed into a thin red line. In her hand she held a cane. Not the first time I had seen that cane, but it was not an experience I wanted to undergo again. She said exactly nothing as she grabbed my arm and dragged me into the sitting room, thrusting me angrily across the back of the settee and ripping my trousers down almost in the same movement. My step- mother had this down to a fine art and it was more than my life was worth to try and escape. I screamed at her as she whipped me, tears rolling down my cheeks and wetting the settee cushion as she lashed my backside in an absolute fury. "I have had Sammy's mother on the phone and Jean's as well and quite frankly, John, I have had enough of your intransigence; Oh! And I do also happen to know when someone rifles my knicker drawer and wears my stockings." So that was it as well. No wonder she was angry with me. As I tried to roll away from her, she snarled at me. "I have had enough of you and you seem to be heading the same way as your father, so I have decided that as you like to act like a girl, then at least I shall have a girl that IS a girl and not some sort of crossdressing hooligan." "You are going to a special school that has very good results with things like you." So saying, she grabbed my arm and threw me into the corner of the room where I lay, crying at my treatment. My backside was on fire like never before. "Stay there," she shouted at me, "Do not move from there," she added, skirts flying as she stalked from the room on her high heels. I heard voices and then the door flew open and my mother entered, followed by another woman. I cowered in the corner, tears still running down my face. I put my hands across my crotch in the presence of a strange woman, only to have the visitor grunt, smile and step across to me, lean down and slap my face. "Now then, my little Precious, attempted modesty does not become you; from now on you will not display any modest at all." She spoke with an underlying foreign accent. She grabbed my arm and dragged me to my feet even though I tried to get away from her. This earned me another slap across the face, this time harder than the last. "We start as we intend to go on," she laughed. Step-mother stood to one side, arms folded, lips pressed into a thin line. I knew there was no help there. Terrified that something dreadful was going to happen, I looked at my step-mother and saw her actually smiling. "Don't look at me like that, you little horror; now is the time for you to take the consequences of your behaviour." "You will go with Miss Kaiser and be shown how to behave and by the time you come back here you will be someone who will be a delight to know." She nodded to my captor who dragged me to the settee again, laying me over the back once more. I started to protest then felt a needle prick on my backside and everything went black. When I came to, it was to a pitch black world. I could see nothing. My whole body ached and my head felt as though it was about to fall of. Actually, I wished it would! I slept again dreaming all sorts of weird things, none of which I really remembered the next time I woke up. I opened my eyes to see Miss Kaiser standing in front of me, watching. I was sitting in a high backed chair, with my arms secured to the chairs arms and my legs apart, each secured to the chair legs. I was naked, I realised, and started to scream as I realised my predicament. She stepped over to me and rammed a red ball into my open mouth before securing it with straps at the back of my head. Stepping away from me, she said, "Now then, Precious, we want obedience and decorum from now on, do you understand." I stared at her, my eyes wide open and gurgled behind my gag. She smiled, stepped to me again and slapped my face. "Do you understand," she repeated. Unable to speak, I hurriedly nodded my head before she slapped me again. "Now we have you at our Academy, we expect obedience and decorum befitting a young lady." My eyes opened wide at 'young lady''. What was going on and where the blue blazes was I? She stepped to me again, and reaching out her hand she gripped my flaccid organ which of course, was in full view and readily accesible to anyone. She slid the palm of her hand over it and I felt myself start to grow. "Good, my Precious, it still works alright," she murmured, adding, "Sometimes our students lose this ability, which causes some problems." She continued stroking me and I felt my organ stiffening more and more. "Now, my little Precious, perhaps I should enlighten you as to why you are here and what you will do whilst you are here." "Your step-mother wishes that you be feminized in order that your behaviour and attitude on life will be totally changed." "With that in mind, she has sent you here to our Institute of Feminization so that we can bring to bear our various systems to achieve and meet your mother's requirements." "So, with that in mind, you will first undergo basic training in the Junior Academy learning the basics of femininity before graduating to the Middle Academy where you will progress through further training schemes to the Senior Academy, where you will receive further instruction in your final role in life." I struggled in my bonds, gurgling my resistance. She laughed and moved her hand to my genitals, squeezing them sharply and making me writhe and twist in pain, forgetting for the moment what she had planned for me. "See, my Precious, see how easy it is to control you." I was kept in that chair for what seemed like hours, gagged and desperate for food and the toilet. Eventually, I had to urinate over myself. It seemed that they, whoever they were, waited for me to do that, for once I had, a woman appeared, dressed in a long blue gown with a white apron, she smiled at me. "Time for bed my Precious," she said. First, she slid a metal collar round my throat, attached to which was a long chain. Then, in seconds, she had my arms free and refastened behind my back. After that, she released my legs and helped me to stand up. I tried to pull away from her, gurgling my protest behind my gag. She tut-tutted, turned and slapped my face, knocking me to the floor. She reached down and hauled me to my feet. "Well now, Precious, we shall just have to do it the hard way," she said. The 'hard way' was to encircle my testicles with a tight leather strap to which she then attached the chain. When she tugged hard on that, I was forced to follow her. She drew me along a stone lined corridor and through several doors until we reached our destination - the room in which I was to spend almost every night for the next six months. Inside I found what amounted to a dormitory, but there were no beds, only baby cots. I was apparently the last one in and had to stand as I watched each of the other boys, 7, in all being prepared for bed. Matron, and her nursery Nannies, for that is what I grew to call them eventually, processed their charges like a production line. The last was standing, naked as he was born as we arrived. He stood eyes downcast as he waited his turn for the next part. This was to be laid across Nanny's knees and spanked until his little backside was red. Then on to the next one, sitting on a potty until he performed to Nanny's satisfaction. Then he moved on to another Nanny where he was put into a baby's nappy. There, rubber panties, baby nightdress and bonnet were added. The last act of the evening was for him to be put into one of the cots, a dummy inserted into his mouth and secured by ties around his head, before the drop sides were raised and 'baby' was ready for sleep. In all that time, I was held by my captor and made to watch in trepidation what was to be my future. I burst into tears at the realisation, the hot tears of humiliation running down my face and into the corners of my gag filled mouth. Then it was my turn. My captor led me to the first Nanny and released my gag as she did so. The nurse looked at me and smiled. "Another little Precious, I see; I don't know where Mistress manages to get them," she sighed, shaking her head slowly in wonderment. She reached out and took my arm, dragging me to her. Carefully, she released the chain and strap from my genitals and also the straps securing my wrists behind my back. "There now, my little Precious," she smiled in a motherly sort of a way. Belying her motherly attitude, she dragged me down across her knees and started to smack my backside. My God, but it hurt and in no time at all I was crying again as the red hot pain flowed round my thighs. As she spanked me, she said, "Know then my little Precious, my name is Nanny Dear, do you understand?" Above the pain, I hurriedly nodded my head and replied, "Yes, yes, oh oh yes." She slapped me harder and said, "Nanny Dear, Nanny, Dear." Then she asked, "Do you understand now?" I almost shouted, "Yes, oh yes, Nanny Dear." "There's a clever little Precious," came the reply, satisfaction very apparent in her voice. One last hard smack and she added, "We are all Nanny Dear in this room." Quickly, I was pushed off her knees and she pointed to the next Nanny. She beckoned me and I stepped up to her. She pointed at the potty and snapped, "Sit." Beetroot red with shame I did so and completed my ablution as well as peeing once more. Up on the next table, my bottom quickly wiped clean with baby wipes and a nappy wrapped round me very tightly and then, straddle- legged to the next humiliation, rubber panties, nightdress and bonnet. The last Nanny beckoned me to an empty cot and once in, she stuck a large baby's dummy in my mouth, fastened it in place before pulling up the cot sides. It took just a few minutes from start to finish. Desperately hungry as well as desperately tired, I could only lie there and suck on my dummy as I watched what was happening. All the Nannies started clearing the dormitory preparing it, no doubt for the next morning. Talking quietly to each other in a foreign language I had never heard before, they laughed from time to time, at some joke or other, or was it at us? Their tasks completed, they looked at each of us, making sure that we were all as intended, then as one, they filed out of the room, the last one switching off the lights. Only a dim nightlight glowed, casting just enough light to make out dim shapes. The only noise I could here was the sobbing of some of my fellow captives. For comfort in my terror, I sucked on my dummy, too frightened to do anything else. I spent a fitful night, that night, hardly sleeping at all and always aware of the dim light and my companions, some of who snored and sniffled as they slept. I knew that I should not draw attention to myself and that I should watch very carefully to see what the regime would be. Then, as I at last fell into a fitful sleep, the lights went on and the Nannies swept into the room, calling out, "Now then you little Precious things, wakey, wakey rise and shine, another day has dawned and there is still so much to learn." All the other captives sat up and pushed their bed clothes to the bottom of their cots and I followed suit. The Nannies swept around the cots, dropping the sides, and feeling to see if any of us had wet nappies, fingers and hands thrust unceremoniously down our rubber panties. "Dear, oh dear, just look at this, ladies," one said and the others all went to her cot. They tut tutted and shook their heads as the object of their attention stood up in his cot. The Nanny lifted him out quickly and stripped him of his panties and nightdress. She dragged him across to a chair and pulled him over her knees before giving him a good, hard spanking. He screamed behind his dummy, and twisted this way and that in his agony. "Now then Precious, you have wet your nappy three times this week." She lifted him from her knee and led him over to the line of potties. "Sit," she ordered and he lowered himself onto the potty making sure to tuck his little male organ inside the front lip. Sobbing, he sat there as the rest of us were lifted out and stripped of our night wear before each being directed to a potty. From the potties, we were led into a shower room where our dummies were released and all had to stand in the one large shower area. The water started from several shower heads and we soaped ourselves down. Very self conscious, I tended to turn slightly away from the others, until I felt a soapy hand slide across my bottom and ease slowly between my buttocks. That caused me shout out and jump around to see a boy behind me smiling shyly at me. He stepped closer to me and whispered above the sound of the water, "Please, can I be your best friend." Frightened almost out of my wits, I shook my head, too afraid to try and speak. A tear appeared in the corner of his eye and he sniffed, "Please," he begged. Before anything else could happen, the water stopped and I followed as the others trooped from the room. Given towels, we hurriedly dried ourselves and then I stood in line with the others, each with a chair in front of us, watched by the Nannies. A pile of clothes lay on each chair. "You may dress now, girls," came the order and I followed suit as they all selected the top garment from the pile and slipped a white blouse on. Then a pink sleeveless top followed by a pair of pink frilly knickers over which we all drew a pair of satin shorts. I dressed quickly to hide my nudity, not caring what I dressed in. Finally, a pair of lace trimmed cotton socks and a pair of soft ballet slippers. It was the use of that word, 'girls,' that struck terror into me. It was then that the reality of my situation really struck home and I knew that they were deadly serious in their purpose. I felt my organ stir at the feel of my satin knickers at the same time as I realised their seriousness. One of the Nannies spoke as we waited. "Precious 4, step forward." The boy who had touched me stepped forward, eyes lowered. "Yes, Nanny Dear," he said. Nanny said, "Precious 4, you spoke in the shower and you know that talking is prohibited, don't you." He nodded. "Yes, Nanny Dear, I do," he admitted, licking his lips nervously. She pointed to the chair and sat on it as he slowly minced across to her. She drew him over her knees, slipped his shorts down and proceeded to spank his satin clad bottom. He cried and wriggled but to no avail, she smacked him until we could see the red through his pink panties. She lifted the sobbing boy from her knees and said, "Corner." He needed no encouragement; he almost ran to the corner of the room, and stood facing the wall, crying his eyes out. As he did so, we stood and waited. One of the Nannies moved to a spot in front of us and said, "We have a new little Precious with us now, and she will be number 8." God! She meant me!! They each turned to face me and without any instruction; they each approached me and kissed my cheek giving a little curtsy as well. I blushed deep crimson in my confusion. From there, we were led, two by two, holding hands for breakfast. In the dining room there was a refectory table with wooden forms at each side. We sat on both sides of the table, facing the boy whose hand we had held. A simple meal, breakfast consisted of a glass of milk, toast and marmalade with a tub of yoghourt to finish. Breakfast was almost always the same. Lessons came after breakfast; how to walk, or rather, mince, how to sit without showing knickers, how to talk to each other as girls talk to each other with all the hand and body language. For these lessons, we had a teacher who we had to call, Mummy Dear every time we spoke to her. We had a light lunch and then were allowed to go to the communal toilet, in full view of each other and the Nannies. In the afternoon, we changed our shorts for dresses and continued with our feminization classes; curtsy, bow, sit and how to flare out our skirts from under us as we sat down. Making sure our underwear was kept hidden all the time. Of course it was always knees together, not like boys who could sit or lounge with their legs apart. Girls would show their panties if they did that, so emphasis was on being dainty and decorous at all times. Elocution lessons on how to speak with a feminine voice followed on without a break. And so the day progressed, with my male side being subsumed by the feminine lessons. By the time the school day was over, I was exhausted, both mentally and physically, with trying to assume female mannerisms, and trying to act like a girl with all the concentration that required. We were taken outside into a courtyard and I saw that we were being held in some sort of castle, obviously very old and very battle scarred. We minced daintily around our tutor, obeying her commands and acting in a very ladylike manner. I made two mistakes, and for each of them I was called out of line by our Mummy Dear. "Just why did you not get that action right, Precious 8, my dear," she asked, hands on her hips. "I'm sorry, I just forgot for a moment," I replied. She pursed her lips. "First, I am Mummy Dear and you will always address me as that and secondly, there is no excuse accepted for errors." She leaned forward and slapped my face. "That, little Precious 8, is for failing to address me correctly, here is another for making that mistake," and she slapped my face again before I could react. Tea was also rather sparse, not the kind of meal I was used to. No pizzas, no chips and no tomato sauce, either, just toasted muffins with butter and strawberry jam and a glass of milk, followed by fresh fruit. Once we had finished, we were expected to fold our arms across our chests without touching the table. Our tea cups and plates were to be neat and tidy and ready for collection. No food was allowed to be left on our plates, we had to eat everything. That was no hardship for me, as even after tea, I was still starving hungry. Led by a Nanny, we trooped hand in hand to the dressing room and there I was to get my first insight into what was to be my future; my new world, if you like. We all undressed from our day frocks and then dressed ourselves, under nanny's watchful eye, in frilly pink satin knickers, puff sleeved, pink layered above the knee, satin frocks, white ankle socks trimmed with pink lace and black mary-janes. For that, we were allowed 10 minutes only and when one of us was still putting her slippers on after the allotted time, she had her face slapped by Nanny Dear. However, that was not the end. We were each given a wig, all the same styling and shown how to put it on and adjust it to look real. A pink lace fascinator was then added and we were ready for our evening. As we stood, hand in hand waiting for nanny to lead us from the room, I caught a glimpse of myself in the full length mirror. Was that really ME!! A sissy boy in pink. What next, I wondered, but was afraid to think of what next. We trooped obediently behind Nanny Dear into a large well lit and carpeted room. Shelves round the walls held dolls and dolls clothing, magazines and books. My partner let go of my hand and Nanny spoke, "Your two hours of playtime, girls," she said and sat down on an easy chair in the corner. My partner went quickly to the shelves and picked out a book, a doll and some dolls clothes. With a faint smile at me, she said, "Would you like to play with me, Precious 8?" That period was awful. Precious 4, for that is what she was known as cajoled and encouraged me to help her dress her dolly and then asked me to read to her from her book. A girl's book, I have to say, about girls at a boarding school who wanted to be ballet dancers. When I was reluctant at first, I saw that Nanny was watching me and decided that I had better play along with my partner. I suppose it was boredom that finally made me think about the story as I read to my partner, and actually became quite interested in the story line. The period over, we returned to the dressing room and disrobed. Once more hand in hand with my partner, we followed Nanny from the room to the dormitory where we once more went through the nightly preparations for bed. Each of us, as we stood waiting for my spanking, were handed three pills and a glass of water. "To make you all sleep better, Precious 8, dear," Nanny said. Whatever the reason for them, I did as the rest did, and swallowed my pills. ***************************** Chapter 3. Each day was to be the same, except that some of the periods were used to teach us other girl's pastimes. Ballet was the one most liked by most of us, and I grudgingly tried to be as good as they were. I did learn to like it by the time my initial training period was over and actually, I still do the movements myself in my bedroom, here at home when I have no other duties to carry out. Even in the Middle Academy, we continued our lessons. For the ballet lessons, we were dressed in white satin knickers, soft cotton tops and white ankle socks as well as white satin ballet slippers. We were given short, blonde wigs to wear with scrunchies twisted into them to hold the tresses in place as we danced. At the beginning of the third week, a wig became part of our dressing and at that point, I realised that my own hair was getting longer as well, meaning that I had to push it up beneath my dress wig. As well as my hair, I thought that my chest was beginning to get a bit flabby and soft and by the end of that week, I KNEW I was growing girl's breasts. And so were the other 'girls'. I found out long afterwards that the pills were to add female hormones to us and suppress the male ones. The milk which we had to drink, and had to finish, at every meal was an aid to breast development as well as being good for us. And so we progressed through the first weeks of our training, aware by now that none of us would be the same as we were when we arrived there. Of the eight l of us, four were English, two were American, and one was French. The two Americans were really awful, crying almost nonstop at the slightest thing. The French 'girl' was really very feminine indeed and showed a lot of chic and flair when given her dresses. She minced about during our leisure time, her hips flowing, skirts swirling around her legs in a very erotic way indeed. Actually, I found her quite attractive in a funny sort of a way. We English 'girls' just got on with our studies and did the best we could, partly because we did not want to be punished by our captors. I think it was about the start of the fourth month that things changed. Our evenings and nights were the same, with frilled frocks and baby nightwear, but our daily attire became a little more 'grownup'. We were given bras to cover our budding breasts and they came in colours to match our underwear and dresses. My first set of lingerie was a delicious pale yellow colour, trimmed with pink lace across the tops of my bra and around the waist of my panties and waist slip. In secret, I have to admit that I adored it. The soft satin just slipped across my by now, soft girlish skin; oh, yes, my skin was changing as well, and gave me such a feeling of enjoyment that I find it hard to say actually what my feelings were. So let me just say that from then on, I could hardly wait for the next stage of my transformation. By now, I was being allowed to have my own hair on show and I found that my hips were swelling, my waist was narrowing and my speech was becoming much more feminine in both intonation and the words I used. For instance I used the words, 'pretty', 'delicious' and 'Precious' a lot and other words that just seemed to be so girlish and natural in my new world. Oh, and I seemed to giggle, rather than laugh. One of the side effects, I suppose one could call them, was that my male organ was aroused by my new wardrobe and frequently grew to quite terrifying proportions, under my panties. The first time was my introduction to nylon stockings and suspender belts. I had been selected by Nanny to wear them for the first time and she showed me how to fit the belt first, and fasten the stockings to the suspenders, ensuring that the seams at the back remained perfectly straight from top to heel. Once I had done that, she gave me a pair of pale blue panties and I carefully slipped them up my legs, wiggling my by now girlish hips as I did so. The feeling of the stockings against my smooth skin and the pull of them on my belt, combined with the smoothness and silkiness of my panties was just too much for my organ and before I realised it, it was thrusting against its satin prison. Of course, Nanny Dear, who was watching to see how I managed my new underwear, saw my state immediately. "Oh, dear, Precious, we shall have to do something about that, now," was her smiling comment. She sat on a chair as she beckoned me to her and then had me sit on her knee with my legs apart. She slipped one arm around my waist and the other moved round my front to where my rampant organ thrust against the satin of my panties. Her fingers slid along the shaft and I closed my eyes, moaning and biting my lip at the sensations that raced through my body. Her arm tightened around my waist and her fingers slid rapidly up and down my erection, nipping, prodding and teasing me as they did so, making me twist and jerk on her knees as she knew I would. I gasped at the intense sensation she subjected me to as she carefully paced herself with me. As I started to stiffen and fall back against her large motherly breasts, she stopped and allowed me to recover, before commencing her ministrations again. I had my eyes closed all the time now, leaning back against her body, almost in a trance as she started to manipulate me again and again. This time, she kept her fingers searching and prodding as they slid up and down my satin covered organ. I felt my pulses racing faster and faster, as Nanny Dear stroked faster and faster, and I arched my body backwards against her full, liquid breasts, pushing my hips forward into her ministrations, crying out as I experienced just the most wonderful sensations I had ever experienced in my life. Then it was over, as I felt hot liquids flow around my satin encased organ, and Nanny Dear pressed and kneaded my still erect organ with her hands and fingers, extracting every bit of fluid that she could from my erection. I collapsed against her breasts, crying, so intense were the emotions that I had experienced; totally relaxed and consumed by ennui. I could only lay back against Nanny Dear, held there by her arm around my waist as she slowed the motions of her other hand and fingers until finally they both were still. Totally drained, I turned and cuddled into her, as she kissed my face and murmured, "There, there, Precious, that was the first time, wasn't it." Unable to say anything through my sobs, I nodded my head. "Well, my dear, the next time is much better and much, much more enjoyable," she crooned into my ear, as she rocked me gently on her knee. Her hand moved up my body and cupped my budding breast as I buried my face deeper in her full breasts. What was to become of me, I wondered and started to sob again. After a shower and change of underwear, much subdued, I rejoined my other companions in the main hall, where they were practising deportment. I got some rather sideways glances from some of them and a couple of them smirked as they watched me join the circle. They knew what had happened. I was to find out later, that the same had happened to all of them just a few days before I arrived. In the days following my 'inauguration', I was to experience much more of this sexual excitement. During lunch time, we had another arrival. It was quite a shock to see what walked through the door, accompanied by our Nanny Dear. Eyes shyly downcast, she minced daintily after Nanny across to our table. With a pretty curtsey, she acknowledged our tutor then stood waiting to be told what to do. She was dressed in a pretty pink sleeveless frock and pink ankle socks with matching mary-jane shoes. The bodice of her frock was ruched and the flared knee length skirt was layered with white lace trimming to the layers. Our tutor pointed to a seat at the end of my side and said, "Sit, Precious and have your lunch." The girl smiled shyly, dipped in another curtsey and carefully sweeping her full skirts from under her, sat in the end position. As she sat, hands in her lap waiting for her lunch, she looked down at the table, her face partly hidden by her long blonde hair. She joined the rest of us in our continued training and from that day on, she was treated just the same as the rest of us. We found out that evening at recreation that her 'fem' name at home had been Stephanie, but here she was just another 'Precious'. And so our days passed each the same as the one before. We rose, got dressed in our panties and frocks, had breakfast, and spent the rest of the morning being tutored in girlie ways by Mistress. Then lunch followed by a change of dress, with suspenders and stockings and frocks for more grown up girls. Those of us who got erections at this point were sent to the Nannies and were 'taken care of' by them before being dressed again and returned to Mistress. The afternoon was again spent being schooled in the ways of girls. Deportment and body language was all included in these lessons. By tea time, were all exhausted, but the day did not stop there. After tea, we were required to dress for the evening recreation period, and were given a half hour to get ourselves ready. I have to admit it now, I began to look forward to that part of the day to as we were allowed all sorts extras and it was so much more fun to dress in really pretty dresses and use real cosmetics than it was to be dressed as a little girl. I especially loved the satin dresses and lace trimmed bras and panties as well as the pretty neck ribbons and fascinators that we were allowed to use in our hair, which by now was beginning to grow quite long and quite fast, as well. Little did we give it much thought, but afterwards, I realised that by then, the tablets that we were taking were having a very marked effect on our bodies. Our boyish chests were progressing to girlish breasts, and our hips were beginning to take on girlish curves. Our voices were softening and our girlish mannerisms were becoming more natural as well. By then, we were all quite happy to play with dolls and play at house keeping as well as ready the ready supply of girlie books and magazines. The soft swish of our underskirts and the sensation of satin on nylon became music to my ears and just to experience the full sensation of it all, I would mince across the room revelling in the froufrou my skirts created. I just loved the satin bloomers that I wore, trimmed and tied at my waist and below my knees with delicious pink lace and ribbon, I was constantly aware of the ribbon tickling me through my nylon stockings. Each evening, we experienced the same regime, and each evening, it seemed more and more natural to act as we did, mincing delicately about the room, swishing and swirling our satins and delighting in the wonderful froufrou they all created. Of course, this was just how we were supposed to react; showing that our tablets and milk were having the desired effect on our whole persona. At bed time, we came down to earth with a crash, once more being treated as little sissy babies and undergoing the evening ritual of being stripped, spanked, pottied, showered and then dressed in our baby nightdresses before being put into our cots and given our dummies to console ourselves. And so the next two weeks passed and by then we had no inhibitions with each other; we were all little girls together being sweet to each other and courteous and obedient to our tutor's ands nannies. It was as we entered this period of our training that we were introduced to the art of satisfying each other; we being strictly forbidden from interfering with ourselves. One evening as we were preparing for our evening recreation, Mistress Tutor told us that we would only be wearing our bras and panties. We all thought this quite risqu?, and were giggling and whispering to each other, knowing that something was going to happen out of the ordinary, but all of us nervous as to just what. We trooped rather self-consciously, hand in hand, two by two, into the recreation room and found Matron there waiting for us. "Sit on the rug," she ordered and we obeyed, carefully lowering ourselves onto the large, soft rug. I sat next to my partner, Precious 4 and he lay with one hand on my shoulder as we waited for Matron and a Nanny to tell us why were so attired in our recreation room. Matron stood with her hands on her hips as she surveyed us, one by one, lips pursed as she did so. "Now, my dears," she finally spoke. You are all at an age when, as we have seen in recent days, you are beginning to love your pretty dresses and underwear and that is apparent because we are having to release you from what remains of your former lives. However, we cannot be at your beck and call forever, therefore we are going to entrust to you and your fellow students the ability to serve each other." We all looked at each other, none of us daring to look at Matron or Nanny. She looked at me and my partner and saw that Precious 4 had a growing bulge in his panties. She smiled and said, "How delightful, we shall not have to create a situation, we have one already." She beckoned us to her. Once standing next to each other, eyes lowered, she saw that I was beginning to become aroused as well. "Now Precious," she murmured. "You know what is hidden in your pretty panties, don't you?" Very embarrassed, we both nodded and answered, "Yes, Matron Dear, we do." "Goood, then you are to feel each other through your pretty panties." "You first, Precious," and she pointed to me. I carefully reached my hand and with my finger tips, stroked the mound in my partners satin panties, getting an immediate reaction as his erection grew. "Now you do the same," commanded Matron to my partner and he reached out and touched me, rubbing his finger tips over my satin clad organ. GOD!! What an amazing sensation. Much stronger than when Nanny had cuddled me. I gasped as he moved his finger tips, pressing them firmly against me. I did the same for him and we were both reaching the point of no return when Matron gave us both a slap across the face and forced us to break contact. We stood in front of her, blushing scarlet as she looked at the others and said, "Now you see how it is done, but you must only do this during your recreation period." Turning, she nodded to Nanny then without a backwards glance, stalked on her high heels from the room, leaving eight very frustrated sissy girls behind. Nanny took over then, "Back on the rug, you two darlings, and then you may experiment on each other," she said. It was a very self conscious group that, over the next half hour or so explored each other like we had never done before, but did on a number of regular occasions in the future months. That night, all of us very subdued and very, very girlie, were put to bed and had an added item to our nightwear. A pair of satin mittens locked in place around our wrists. As Nanny secured them, she gave me a motherly look, "We don't want any mischief during the night, do we, Precious." Precious 3 had just been dressed in his baby nightie and mittens when she suddenly sat down and released a flood of liquid onto the floor. Two of the Nannies thought it very funny indeed, and decided to give her another bottle and then change her nappies before finally putting her into her cot, where she cried herself to sleep sucking madly on her dummy. I think that the evening's experiences had really affected her and she finally realised that everything that was happening was in earnest and not some sort of play or game. She constantly asked for her Mummy over the following months, crying at almost any excuse, for which she was punished, of course. *************************** Chapter 4. Months passed almost unnoticed, every day something new that drove us deeper and deeper into our forced femininity. By then I had forgotten everything, I think, except that my name was Precious 7 and we were tutored by Matron, Nannies and several Tutors. Our dresses progressed slightly from really baby outfits to really sissy frocks and dresses that I just begged and prayed I would never have to be seen in public wearing. I loved them all. I loved the pretty shades of pink. I loved the satin ruffles on my panties and the pretty ribbons at my knees and waist. I adored the fluffy underskirts and revelled in the fact that as I minced around, they flared and swirled around my nylon clad legs, flashing into view as I walked in my pretty girlie shoes. My bonnets, I adored as well as the pretty handbags I was allowed to carry, now that I was advancing in my training. In fact, I could hardly wait to finish my training to find out what lay beyond the solid wood door that stood at the end of the long corridor. In the meantime, I revelled in my new life and all that it taught me. As I said, we wore more and more sissy dresses and frocks and were paraded, I suppose is the best description, before our Nannies and Tutors in the evenings. Sometimes, it was almost like a fashion show, at other times we were expected to perform with each other to show that our inhibitions had died and we accepted everything we had been taught as normal. The Nannies dressed me in a really sissy outfit one evening and made fun of me as they went about their task. A pink thong allowed my organ to poke out at the front surrounded by my pink suspender belt that held my stockings in place. I was given a pink lace bra that encased my now rather prominent breasts and over that a pink blouse, nipped in to my waist and with a full ruff around my throat and full elbow length sleeves trimmed with lace almost to my wrists. A large pink bow in my hair and a pair of pink high heels that I could hardly walk in, was topped by a pink cape tied around my throat. As they dressed me, they made all sorts of catty remarks so that, by the time I was finally dressed, I was in tears at the way they taunted me. Nanny stroked my male organ and it obeyed her fingers, no matter how hard I tried to subdue. Then they made me mince across the room on my new heels, and giggled at the way I had to sway my hips from side to side as I minced with tiny girlie steps back and forth in front of them, my maleness swaying in time to my hips and my pretty cape swirling around my shoulders. Before they presented me to the other Nannies, they allowed me to step into a pair of pink panties which did absolutely nothing to hide my embarrassment. As I minced back and forth across the room, my pretty little handbag held aloft and my organ pressing against my pink panties, I heard one Nanny say to the other, "What a naughty girl." Before they sent me to get ready for bed, one of them serviced me until I erupted with much ooooohhhing and aaaaahhing. Over the next months, we were immersed deeper and deeper into our programmed sissy hood, being encouraged to really act the part and encouraged to be very familiar with each other, if you understand me. We were taught to curtsey to each other, even during our tutoring periods whenever we had to do something or speak to each other as well as to our Tutor. All the time, the rustle and swish of our finery caused most of us to be in a state of almost eternal sexual excitement. By the time we were told that we were to be moved to a new class, we were nothing more or less than simpering, mincing, and limp handed sissiegirls with only one thought in mind; how to dress properly and how to get relief from our constant state of arousal. It was as we were in this period that our sissification took another step forward. One evening, as we were in recreation and all dressed in our pretty, pink sissy frocks, Nanny saw me start to play with my partner. She came across and said, "Well, Precious, I think it is the time to show you an even more satisfying way to get relief." We both looked at her waiting for her to say more. "You, Precious," pointing to my partner, "On your knees and face her." Once she faced me, Nanny Dear continued, "Now, sweetie, take your male thing out of your panties and hold it from under your petticoats." I sat on my knees, looking at the organ in front of me. Nanny said, "Now, you lean forward and kiss it." I hesitated and Nanny Dear walked up to me and slapped my face. "Do as you are told, girl," she snapped, her arm raised again. Tears ran from my eyes as I leaned carefully forward and put my lips to the proffered organ. "Well," snapped Nanny Dear and I opened my mouth and slid my lips over it. Precious moaned quietly and moved her hips towards me, pushing gently against me and forcing her organ further into my mouth. I felt it with my tongue, sliding my tongue around the hard shaft and then I don't quite know what came over me, because I sucked on it as I did my pacifier at night and had some sort of strange satisfaction in feeling it drawn further and further into my mouth. I put my hand up to the shaft, holding it steady as she put her hand on my head, her gloved fingers sliding into my hair and holding me firm as she moved her hips back and forth, slowly at first. I sucked for all I was worth, totally unaware of the other sissies looking on. For if it was normal and part of life to bring each other to climax in full view of each other, then I decided that this would be normal practice as well. And so it became. Within a few days, we all got our excitement from 'drawing' each other, as we started to refer to it as. I must say, I found as much pleasure in doing the 'drawing' as I did from being 'drawn'. Again, day followed day and we all sank even deeper into our new personas, revelling more and more in our descent into enforced femininity. We actively competed against each other to see who could become the best sissy in the class. That forced us into more awareness about our dress sense and to be honest, I think I had the best dress sense of us all, except possibly for the French girl, who had been petticoated before she came here. She had certain sureness about her that we had to learn and which she seemed to have naturally. When she dressed for the evening, she almost always wore what was really an evening dress, off the shoulder, fitted bodice which encased her by now very obvious breasts and flared away from the waist to full ankle length skirts. On high heels she swayed about the room, her skirts swirling and swishing as she walked. I tried something like it one evening and afterwards, I knew just how it affected her. When I begged Mistress Tutor to be allowed something different she laughed at my earnestness, and promised to see what she could do. "You are coming on very well indeed, Precious dear," she commented. Pleased with rare praise, I dipped in a pretty curtsey and murmured, "Thank you so much, Tutor Dear." The result was, that three nights later, I was presented with my outfit for the evening. Body hugging, knee length, peach coloured pantaloons followed. Trimmed with white lace and fitting me to perfection. The silk slid over my soft girlish skin and aroused me before I had even taken a step in them. Just the very idea of me wearing such beautiful finery sent me into a state of high sexual awareness. Mistress Tutor fondled my breasts as she fitted firm bra cups to them, saying, "You won't wear a normal bra, Precious dear, for your frock is backless and topless tonight." And it was the most wonderful, beautiful dress I had ever seen in my whole life! Mistress fitted it carefully, easing my girlish curves carefully into the white brocade gown, gently settling the cups over my breasts and just as carefully easing up the back zip, taking care not to strain the fabric. I stood as she carefully slipped my nylon clad feet into a pair of white satin high heels, whilst I held the full skirts up at the front in both hands. Tears welled in my eyes as I realised just how I fitted into this wonderful creation. Mistress Tutor carefully wiped them away with a soft tissue. She smiled at me and kissed me on my cheek. There, there, Precious, see just how wonderful it can be as a girlieboy." Sniffing slightly, I nodded, "Yes, Mistress Tutor, I do see now." She led me by the hand, full length skirts swishing across the floor, hips swaying in a really girlie way, to the recreation room, where the others had already congregated. Some of the nannies were putting finishing touches to the frocks my fellow students were wearing, none of them as fabulous as mine; I hasten to say, but all very lovely. We spent a fantastically wonderful period that evening, all of us swishing about the room, flouncing our swirly skirts and swinging our hips in a most outrageous manner as we minced about on our high heels. We curtseyed to each other, heads bowed, with smiles on our painted lips as we played the parts we were being trained to do. The Nannies and two of the Tutors stood to one side watching us very carefully indeed. As we played our charade, Precious One and Two were called to the Nannies and they minced across the floor to them, hands fluttering amongst their above the knees full skirts, simpering smiles on their lips. Nanny Dear slid her hand amongst the frothy underskirts of Precious One and drew her organ into view, full length and bright red. The other Nanny slid her hand into Two's skirts and reappeared triumphant, as well. Each of the students curtsied to the madams, before grasping each others organs, teasing and stroking each other until we could see that they were about to erupt. "Enough, girls, that's enough, all of you follow me," called out one of the nannies and led us hand in hand from the room, along a short passage and into another room. Along the wall a stood row of 12 stalls, each just wide enough for a person to stand in, and along the wall above the stalls a metal pipe ran. In each stall a rubber hose hung down from the pipe and attached to the end of each hose was a clear plastic nozzle with a soft rubber rim. As we stood looking at this new room, nanny called out, "Now girls, lift your skirts and step into a stall." We looked at each other in shock as we suddenly realised just what use these strange things were intended for. "Now," snapped nanny and pushed one of us towards the stalls. Naturally, being very obedient, we all followed each into a stall and facing the wall, our skirts raised. "Take your boy things out and hold it to the nozzle," the order came and I did as we were told. It was not particularly easy as I had full length skirts to hold as well as manipulate myself to the nozzle. Nanny strode behind us all, checking that we were all doing as we had been told. "Right, Nanny, please commence," she said and we heard the hiss of air and I felt my erection drawn easily into the nozzle. Then it started to pulse and at each pulse I was drawn further into the nozzle until finally, the rubber rim was held tightly against my groin. I almost swooned at this totally new sensation. My heartbeat increased and all I could do was hold my heavy skirts up and thrust my hips against my milking machine, for that is what it was. We were being milked by an impersonal machine and all we could do was stand and allow this to happen. That demonstrated the level of obedience that we had been reduced to. My heart beat faster and faster and I started to moan, eyes tight shut, but actually enjoying this new eroticism that I had been thrust upon us. As I felt myself beginning to climax, I leaned slightly forward, clenching my knees and thighs hard together, almost falling of my high heels as I felt the machine draw me deeper into itself. Then with one loud shriek, I felt myself climax, with a sensation of being turned inside out. I started to sob and leaned sideways against the side of the stall as the machine continued to pulse and draw every last drop of fluid from my sissy body. That evening as we prepared for bed again, we each were given a cuddle and a kiss by the Nannies. The evening appointment in the 'milking parlour' as we came to call it, became normal from that evening on, and although I suffered some trepidation as we stepped into the stalls, I must admit to a sort of strange fascination with the way it drew from us. It was totally impersonal and without any sign at all of a relationship. Up until that evening, at least we could all identify with each other and the slightly different ways we had of helping our fellow students. That evening also marked the start of another phase of our education and conversion. ************* Chapter 5 For the next two months, we were dressed all the time in really sissy frocks and underwear and our deportment was emphasised more and more, each day and all day. We had to take short, mincing steps and swing our hips as we did so, thus making our flouncy skirts sway back and forth around our now girlish figures. One of our hands had to be held out to one side and hang limply from our wrist whilst the other was expected to rest gently on our hip as we swayed and wiggled our way into deeper and deeper girlhood. We were exposed to the Tutors and the Nannies all the time, and I was made to stand on a stool, skirts held up in front of me whilst the assembled women inspected my underwear. Of course, I had an erection and that brought many comments from the assembly. I stood in front of them, bonneted and beskirted, my knees pressed together, blushing furiously at the way I was being inspected; like a sheep or a lamb being made ready for slaughter, I thought. Nanny Dear leaned forward and slid her fingers gently over my swollen panties, making my erection even more obvious. That drew a comment from Madam Tutor. "Oh, Precious, we see that you still have a few boyish feelings, but we can soon get round that." She said no more and I fearfully wondered just what they had in future store for us, as we all were still having erections dressed as we were. Then shock, horror, on the third day, I was told to be particularly smartly turned out and once I had been inspected, I was led by the hand, mincing as I had been trained, out of the building and across a courtyard then through a door into a corridor. Far removed from our sparse accommodation, this was sumptuously appointed, soft carpets, shining woodwork. Nanny Dear stopped and turning to me, she said, "When we enter this room, you will immediately turn to the visitor and perform your best ever curtsey, Precious. Now do you understand?" I nodded my head and she knocked gently on the door then opening it. Hand in hand we stepped through into a massive room and nanny turned with me to our visitor. My mouth hug wide open; it was my step-mother!!! Here, at this Academy, and not in the least shocked or even surprised at the sight that met her eyes. "Down," snapped Nanny Dear and I duly dipped in a deep curtsey in front of mother. "Oh, very pretty, my little Precious," she cooed as I stood up. She beckoned me with a gloved hand. "Here, Precious, stand here," she said pointing to a spot directly in front of her. I minced carefully to the spot indicated and stood, blushing furiously as she stared at me, her eyes taking in every little bit of my sissy clothing. "Ears pierced, I see, and oh, what a pretty shade of lipstick you are wearing; matching your nail polish I hope." I nodded, "yes, step-mother." "No, NOT 'step-mother', 'Mistress'," she smiled. "I'm not having a lazy sissyboy lying round MY house; I intend to make sure that you are very much gainfully employed." She pointed to my skirts, "Up," she ordered, moving her hand upwards. Still blushing madly scarlet, with my eyes down, I carefully took my skirts in my gloved fingers and raised them slightly. "UP, UP," she snapped and having no real alternative, I lifted them up to my waist, exposing my satin panties and suspenders, and incidentally, my rising organ which now pressed hard against the smooth satin of my pretty pink panties. Her black gloved hand slid up the front of my swollen panties and I could not resist the reflex to push slightly forward against the palm of her hand. She smiled into my eyes as she slid her f