The Sweet Academy, Part 3 free porn video

THE SWEET ACADEMY - Part 3 By Lisa Lovelace Hampered by my high heels and maid's uniform, I struggled with Mr. St. James in the darkness, trying to keep him from shoving me into the back seat of his car. He was much stronger than me, but he slipped on the gravel driveway and fell to one knee. He swayed slightly. I think he was drunk. I tried to pull free of him, but he kept his grip on my slender wrist. "Help, help!" I cried. A woman's voice cracked like a whip in the darkness. "Mister. Saint. James!" The back porch light turned on. Mrs. Sweet appeared in the open doorway, wearing a stunning white negligee and peignoir that glowed in the light and made her look like an avenging angel. "What are you doing, sir?" she said. "Let go of Lisa at once, or I will call the police!" His clutch on me loosened. I broke free, scurried to the back door and slipped past Mrs. Sweet to safety inside. "I see what you're doing!" Mr. St. James shouted. "You want her for yourself! You and Maxine! Lisa could make a fortune for us, and you're trying to cut me out!" I could make a fortune for them? What did he mean? "You're wrong, Geoffrey," Mrs. Sweet said. "Maxine is just trying to protect her from you. We didn't expect you to try to kidnap her, for God's sake! What on earth were you thinking? Where were you going to take her?" "Somewhere safe," he said. "Away from you." "She's safe here. We'll keep it that way. You've had too much to drink, Geoffrey. Go home. Get some sleep. We'll see you for coffee in the morning and finish our discussion." He glared at her. Without a word he got in his car, one of those fancy new electric ones. It sped down the driveway with a quiet hum. Tires squealed as it turned into the street. Mrs. Sweet locked the back door and turned the deadbolt. "Come with me, Lisa," she said. She led me to her room, closed the door, sat beside me on the bed. "I'm sorry you had to experience that, dear," she said. "Was Mr. St. James really trying to kidnap me, ma'am?" "I'm afraid so. Don't open the door to him - except at ten tomorrow morning - or allow yourself to be alone with him, especially outdoors." "Ma'am? What did he mean when he said I could make a fortune for you?" Mrs. Sweet hesitated. "To be honest, I'm not quite sure. He does believe you're quite beautiful and could succeed as a model or some sort of celebrity, a spokesperson for girls who were born male." "Do you think I could do that, ma'am?" "I hope you never try." She laid a hand on my arm. "Oh, Lisa, you have the beauty and maybe even the brains to succeed at whatever you do. But that's not what Sweet Academy girls do. We don't train our girls to compete in the cold, hard world outside the home. We train our girls to serve and support others, to be soft and quiet, to obey rather than lead. We don't train them to become celebrities or activists. We train them to play the wife's role in relationships, whether their partner is male or female. You've only been here a few months, Lisa, but you understand, don't you? Isn't that what you want to be? A beautiful girl who finds true love and satisfaction in keeping house for her spouse or mistress?" I thought about it. The very thought of trying to make my living as a man frightened me. I would have to dress in ugly, rough clothing and cut off my hair and go without makeup or scent or jewelry. I would have to walk in long strides and swing my arms like an ape and be strong and hard and tough enough to compete with other men at male dominance games, laughing and back-slapping and swapping dirty jokes and betting on sports and whatever else men did before they got drunk and mean and started to fight. I didn't know, really, never having had a proper father. All I knew was that I didn't dare try to present myself as a man in public. Real men would immediately know I was a sissy. Which meant - what? That I should remain as I was, a student at a school where they turned boys into girls? That I should dress like a girl, behave like a girl, feel a girl's emotions, settle for a girl's place in life? Fulfill my destiny as Lisa, not Lee? What other future could I have? I had no other realistic choice. I could not escape from The Academy - security was unobtrusive but vigilant. I could not be a man. I was a girl who needed to belong to someone strong and decisive, someone who would protect and take care of me. I was a girl. A girl dressed in the ultra-feminine clothes of a submissive servant. "Yes, ma'am," I said, curtsying more deeply than usual. It felt like I was curtsying more than ever these days, and somehow that felt right. Like wearing my maid's uniform, it felt like the appropriate way to show my betters that I would submit to them and do as I was told. It was so much easier, so much more comfortable than having to figure out a way through life on my own. Mrs. Sweet lifted my chin with a finger and made my eyes meet hers. "Lisa, I don't want anything bad to happen to you. Do you know what's really going on here?" Of course I didn't! No one would tell me anything! "I - I'm not sure what you mean, ma'am." She gave me a pitying look. "Since your first day at The Sweet Academy, you have attracted the attention of your superiors. All of them instantly recognized your value. First it was Miss Slipstrap, then Ms. Abercrombie, then Miss Backstitch, and now both Mr. St. James and Ms. Moreau want to get their hands on you." "Why?" I asked. "Oh, Lisa! Don't you feel it inside? You inspire desire. Thousands of boys have become girls at my Academy, and you are one of the most beautiful I've ever seen. There is a girlish innocence about you that powerfully attracts strong men and women. They want to possess you, to make you theirs - to enjoy your charms themselves, or to profit from them." "Profit? How? You have no right to profit from me! I don't belong to you, I don't belong to The Academy! If anyone, I belong to Nana!" "I'm afraid that's not the case, Lisa," Mrs. Sweet said calmly. "We looked into your background, and it seems your great-grandmother, Laura Little, never formally adopted or took legal custody of you after your parents disappeared. It's possible she wanted to avoid any contact or involvement with Family Services, especially if she intended to dress you, a boy, as a girl. You're lucky you didn't become a foster child." I struggled to absorb this. Could it be true? "Then who...?" "In the absence of parents or a legal guardian, The Sweet Academy stands in loco parentis to you, in place of a parent, and we will act as your guardian until you graduate and we place you in a suitable position, just as you agreed when you enrolled. While you are a student here, we and no one else will decide what happens to you." I frowned. "Who is 'we', ma'am?" "The three directors of The Academy, Mr. St. James, Ms. Moreau and myself. Myself, really, as I own more than fifty percent of The Academy." "Just because you own The Academy, that doesn't mean you own me!" I shouted. "It's my life! I have a say in this!" "I'm afraid that's not the case, Lisa. You're a minor," she said. "Please understand that you're not the first beautiful student we've had with no legal guardian. Your former roommate, Paris, is another. We've handled cases like yours before in a way that benefits the student as well as The Academy." My voice rose. "Parvaneh, too? Is that why we were roommates? So you could sell us both to the highest bidder?" Mrs. Sweet's voice remained steady. "Do you mean Paris? You're not using her boy's name, are you?" "No! It's her real girl's name. What's going to happen to her?" "That's not your business, Lisa. And no, we're not selling you or her or anyone. The Academy accepts donations from supporters, but donations do not affect decisions we make about individual students." "Have you made a decision about me? Am I already someone else's property?" "No. You said you wanted a voice in the decision. Would you like to belong to Mr. St. James?" "No! He's creepy. I don't like him at all." "Would you rather belong to Ms. Moreau?" "No! I don't want to belong to anyone!" "Are you sure about that?" she said. "Would you rather try to survive on your own in the world, with no one to protect you? Where will you live? How will you earn money?" The thought frightened me. I didn't know how the outside world worked. I was still a child! I'd always been taken care of. "I... I don't know, ma'am." "That's right. You don't," she said. "The outside world is a harsh place, Lisa. It would eat you alive, and spit out your corset stays. It would be far better for you to work for Ms. Moreau, or even Mr. St. James, than to try to survive on your own." Her voice softened. "Why not Ms. Moreau? Maxine is rich and can support you in style. She's a nicer person than Mr. St. James. If you agree to work for her, I'll call a board vote in the morning, and she and I will outvote Mr. St. James - even though he's offered to make a, uh, larger donation if I vote to let him have you." So, Mr. St. James was outbidding Ms. Moreau? But Mrs. Sweet would give me to Ms. Moreau if I agreed to work for her. Whatever 'work' might mean. I didn't see much alternative - I needed someone to protect me and give me a place to live. Someone like... "Can't I just leave school and go back to Nana?" "Of course not," she said. "She's not your legal guardian. Consider Ms. Moreau. You could rise in her service. As her maid, then her personal assistant, then her personal companion, and then - who knows? Maybe she'll fall in love with you and marry you." I laughed out loud. "Who'd be the husband, and who'd be the bride?" "That would be for the two of you to decide," she said seriously. ~ ~ ~ The next morning, I had to wear my evening uniform and undies from the day before, instead of one of my nice fresh day uniforms in silvery-gray satin. I went down to the kitchen to make a light breakfast - toast with butter and marmalade, fresh cut fruit, yogurt - for Mrs. Sweet and Miss Backstitch, and then simple flaky pastries and coffee to serve at Mrs. Sweet's meeting. I'd learned how to make flaky pastry in one of the few Cooking classes I'd been able to attend. I flavored half with fig jam, the rest with marmalade, and got them into the oven in plenty of time. Ms. Moreau arrived ten minutes early. "Good morning, Lisa," she said with a smile as she handed me her coat and handbag. I curtsied. "Good morning, ma'am." She gave me a nod and headed for the drawing room. I returned to the kitchen, took the pastries out of the oven, sliced them and put them on little plates. Miss Backstitch arrived at the stroke of ten and joined the others. Mr. St. James arrived ten minutes late. He scowled at me but did not speak. In the kitchen, I poured each of them a coffee made to their preference and put the cups, saucers and pastries on a silver tray. I knocked on the door of the drawing room and was told to enter. Inside the door, I made a dip rather than a curtsy, put the tray down on the sideboard and served them their coffee and pastry. I left the tray on the sideboard to remove the china and forks later, curtsied to the room and turned to leave. "Don't go, Lisa," Mrs. Sweet said. "What's this?" said Mr. St. James. "Of course the maid should go." "It affects her," Mrs. Sweet said. "Let her listen." "I agree," Ms. Moreau said. "You may sit, Miss Little," Mrs. Sweet said. "There will be no need for you to speak." I blinked. People hardly ever called me Miss Little - I was just Lisa. I chose a simple wooden chair next to the wall and sat perfectly, back straight, knees together, ankles crossed, hands folded over my apron. My taffeta petticoat rustled. I looked down and was glad to see that it covered my stocking tops. "I object," Mr. St. James said. "The maid's presence violates my right to privacy during an executive session." "Your objection is duly noted," Mrs. Sweet said. She raised her voice slightly. "I call to order a special meeting of the board of directors of The Sweet Academy. All members are present. Miss Backstitch is present as secretary. Miss Lisa Little is present as a guest. New business. I have two petitions for transfer of guardianship for the student Lisa Little. The first petition would transfer her guardianship from The Academy to Geoffrey St. James. The second petition would transfer her guardianship from The Academy to Maxine Moreau. The board will take a separate vote on each petition. Discussion." I tried to follow their arguments, but they were complicated and I had no idea what the law was. Mr. St. James seemed to argue that The Academy's charter required the board to accept the highest bid for services by Work Experience students, meaning he should get me, while Ms. Moreau argued that Work Experience rules didn't apply in my case because yadda yadda yadda, meaning she should get me. There was no one to argue that I should get me, and I'd been told not to speak. So all I could do was wait for the arguments to end and see what they decided. I did snap to attention at one point, when Mr. St. James mentioned the amount of his bid - and yes, he called it a bid, made no bones about the fact that he was trying to buy me from The Academy. For five hundred thousand dollars. I caught my breath. It was impossible. No way was I worth half a million dollars. I was one of two hundred girls at The Academy, and lots of them were as pretty as I was. Parvaneh was one. It couldn't just be my looks. Something else was at stake, but I didn't know what. I wondered how much Ms. Moreau had bid for me, and found out a few minutes later, when Mrs. Sweet mentioned a hundred-thousand-dollar difference between the bids. Did he outbid her, or vice versa? More important, if money changed hands, wasn't I entitled to some of it? Or would The Academy take it all and give me useless Work Experience class credits instead? That would be incredibly unfair! It was also what The Academy did whenever it could: use free student labor to reduce costs and increase revenue. Eventually the arguments ran out of steam. It was obvious that everyone's mind was made up. "All wishing to approve Geoffrey St. James' petition in the case of Lisa Little," Mrs. Sweet said. Mr. St. James was the only person to raise his hand. "All opposed." Mrs. Sweet and Ms. Moreau raised their hands. "The petition is denied. All wishing to approve Maxine Moreau's petition in the case of Lisa Little." Mrs. Sweet and Ms. Moreau raised their hands. "All opposed." Mr. St. James raised his hand, then slammed it on the table. "This is a bloody farce!" he shouted. Mrs. Sweet ignored him. "The petition is approved." And that's how I became Ms. Moreau's property. Technically, I was her employee, but the contract I had to sign made it clear that I would have to do pretty much anything she wanted me to do. I wasn't happy about it, but I wasn't angry, either. More like resigned - what could I do about it? At least she wasn't Mr. St. James, and it wasn't like I wanted to hurry back to my girly classes at The Sweet Academy. I didn't know Ms. Moreau, but then I didn't know any of these people. She'd smiled at me when we met. She stood up to Mr. St. James on my behalf. I had to respect her for that. "New business," Mrs. Sweet said. "I move we remove Geoffrey St. James from the board of directors and buy out his share of The Academy." "Second," Ms. Moreau said. "You can't do that!" Mr. St. James snapped. "It's illegal!" "It might be illegal in a public company, Geoffrey," Mrs. Sweet replied. "But this company is private, and I own more than half, so I can pretty much do what I want." Mr. St. James stood. "You will hear from my lawyers," he said. He strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Mrs. Sweet turned to Miss Backstitch. "Meeting adjourned," she said. "Bertha, will you please follow Mr. St. James to the door to make certain he leaves the house safely? And lock the door behind him?" "Yes, ma'am," Miss Backstitch said, and left the room. Mrs. Sweet and Ms. Moreau looked at me. I lowered my eyes and tried to sit up even straighter, like a good girl. I wished I was wearing something less decorative than this extremely sissy maid's uniform. "Lisa, you are no longer a ward of The Sweet Academy," Mrs. Sweet said. "Ms. Moreau is your new guardian and mistress. You will live with her now and obey her. She will decide whether to keep you enrolled in The Academy or use you for some other purpose." "Yes, ma'am," I said, and curtsied to Ms. Moreau. She was my mistress, and I was her maid. It was humiliating to belong to someone this way. It made me feel very submissive, very feminine. It also made me feel safe and secure. I now had someone to take care of me, feed me, clothe me, put a roof over my head. Ms. Moreau beamed at me. "Welcome to my household, Miss Little. I hope you will be very happy." It was so nice to be called Miss. "Yes, ma'am, I'm sure I will." "You'll come home with me now, and you'll work for me at home for the time being," she said. "We'll stop by the school. Pack as many of your things as you can, including a week's worth of your prettiest maid's outfits and undies, and we'll have the rest of it sent over to the house later. With all that's going on, you don't need to worry about attending classes for now. I'll think about that later, when you and I get settled in together." "Yes, ma'am." That answered my first three questions: I would her service right away, I would be a maid for now, and I would not be going back to school. "What about Geoffrey?" Mrs. Sweet asked Ms. Moreau. "We can't have him taking us to court. If Family Services were to drop by, or state inspectors, God help us..." "Not to worry," my new guardian said. "I have videos of Geoffrey doing - well, never mind." She glanced at me. "He won't trouble us." Videos of Mr. St. James doing what? I could imagine all sorts of icky possibilities. I didn't want to know. I just wanted him kept away from me. ~ ~ ~ Ms. Moreau took me back to The Academy, where I packed up as many of my things as I could, including my makeup and beauty supplies, and then drove us to her home in Albany. I was impressed. This was how I wanted to live. She lived downtown on the top floor of a renovated brick warehouse with a view of the Hudson River, in a gentrifying neighborhood with lots of new restaurants and shops. Her unit was half the size of Mrs. Sweet's house and would be a lot easier for a maid to maintain. The kitchen and baths were newer and nicer than Mrs. Sweet's period plumbing and appliances. There were three bedrooms, the smallest and girliest of which was mine. I had a double bed with a chiffon canopy and satin sheets, a vanity with a lighted mirror, a chest of drawers, and a walk-in closet with an armoire, two walls of clothing racks and one wall of shoe racks. More than enough to hold my things. I had just put on my nightgown over my slip when there was a soft knock at the door. "Come in," I said. Ms. Moreau entered. She had changed into a floaty long white gown and peignoir. "Hello, Lisa," she said. I curtsied to her. "Ma'am." She paced the room in a restless way. "I'm extremely happy to have you with me," she said. "But there's something I need to tell you." I grew apprehensive. Was she about to spoil everything in some way? "I love you, Lisa. If it were legal, I would love to touch you and kiss you and give you more pleasure than you've ever known. Would that bother you?" "No, ma'am." "Would you like me to do that?" "Yes, ma'am." "Would you like to do it to me?" "Yes, ma'am." "Well, we can't," she said. "This is what I need to tell you." I was stunned. "Why not?" "Because I have a conscience," she said. "It would be illegal and unethical. You're a minor. I'm an adult. You're a student. I'm a director of your school. We can't have a - a physical relationship, even if we both want to. I can't hug you, I can't kiss you, I can't touch you in a sexual way, I certainly can't make love to you. I'm probably committing a crime right now just by talking to you about it." "If I withdraw from school," I said, "does that solve the problem?" "No. I'd have to resign as a director of The Academy as well," she said. My eyes went wide. "Oh! I'd hate to make you resign!" "I'd get over it," she said dryly. "Though I do enjoy the sight of all those pretty boys in debutante dresses." "If you resigned, could we have a... a relationship?" I asked shyly. "No. You're a minor. There's only one way around that." "What is it?" "I'm going to ask you a very personal question, Lisa. It will come as a surprise. Don't answer right away. I'll explain and let you think about it." I waited, passive but alert. She went down on one knee and looked up into my eyes. Was she -? I clapped my hands to my face in shock. "Lisa, will you marry me?" Oh my God, yes! Or no! I wasn't sure, had to think. I was glad she told me not to answer right away. "I'm serious," she said. "I love you, and the only way we can be lovers is if we are married. Otherwise, it's a crime. That's the main reason, but there's another. I'm afraid Geoffrey will go to court and sue for custody of you. He'll say that your Nana - is she really your great- grandmother, by the way?" "Yes, ma'am." "He'll say she abused you for years by making you wear girls' clothes and sending you to a girls' school. He'll say that if I get custody, I'll compound the abuse by keeping you in dresses, while if he gets custody, he'll let you wear boys' clothes again and will send you to a boys' school, to undo the damage you've suffered here." I felt a flush of panic. "I'm not damaged! I don't want to go to a boys' school! And I certainly don't want to wear boys' clothes!" "If we were married, Lisa, Geoffrey would have no case. We couldn't be forced to testify in court against each other. It would give us certain legal rights." "Can we even get married?" I asked. "Legally, I mean?" "Not in New York state, but we can in Vermont. You're sixteen?" I nodded. "Think about what life would be like if we married," she said. "Neither of us would sorry about The Academy. I'd still have my job here in Albany. I'm an attorney working for the State Senate. I would be the husband and breadwinner for our household, and you would be my pretty little housewife. I would go to work every morning, and you would stay home and do all the housework. You would cook our meals, do the dishes, clean the house, shop for food, run errands, do the laundry and ironing and any other chores that need doing. "The good news is, you wouldn't have to wear a uniform anymore! Although the one you're wearing is delectable. As my housewife, you would wear pretty day dresses, housewife's dresses over rustling petticoats, with vintage foundation garments and stockings and heels, and a cute apron. Your hair would be in a pretty pageboy or flip or gamine cut, your makeup would be perfect, your body shaved and moisturized and powdered and scented." She took a deep breath. "I can just see it. I would come home from work at night with worn-off makeup, wrinkled clothes and aching feet. You would meet me at the door, serve me my favorite drink, let me freshen up, kick off my heels, change into something more comfortable, and relax until dinner is ready, and afterwards you would draw me a fragrant bath and soap my back. Oh! I'm getting excited just thinking about having a wife to take care of me." I thought about being a wife instead of a maid, and decided I'd rather be a wife. For the legal reasons, sure, but also for the opportunity to have a shred of social dignity. As a housewife, I would be the lady of the house, my spouse's hostess, and could choose what dress to wear, instead of being a maid or schoolgirl in uniform. I could call her Maxine, and call her friends by their first names instead of Miss Whoever, and be called Mrs. Lisa Moreau, the wife of Ms. Maxine Moreau. Maxine could protect me and put a roof over my head, and I could be her little homemaker and add beauty and love to her life. It was a wife's role, yes, but maybe I was meant to be Lisa the housewife for a rich and successful female husband named Max. Oh! I liked that. Me with the shameful girl's name, Lisa, and she with the strong, masterful name, Max. Oh, yes. I wanted to be taken to the Max. Of course I didn't dare say so. But! I was only sixteen, and she must be thirty at least! She could almost be my mother, and I could almost be her daughter! It would be unbalanced relationship. She would order me around - that wouldn't be so bad - but then there was a far more important question... "Ms. Moreau... Maxine... do you love me, the way you'd love someone you really wanted to marry? I mean, we barely know each other, and I'm so young! Are you doing this just to keep me away from Mr. St. James? Did he outbid you for me?" She stiffened. "You know about that?" "He mentioned it in passing. I don't think he meant to. Am I really worth half a million dollars?" She hesitated. "Geoffrey is a very wealthy man, very competitive, very headstrong. I know things about him you don't. I'd hate to see you end up with him. Far better for you to end up with me." She took my face in her hands. "I do love you, Lisa, or will once I get past the stage of complete infatuation. I want to marry you, to hug and kiss you and make love to you. I want to take you home and protect you. I will support you, and you will be my stay-at-home housewife." I thought it over. Nana would soon be gone. If I remained in school, Mr. St. James would try to get his hands on me sooner or later. I really didn't have a choice. And a big part of me liked the idea of being Maxine's wife. I wondered whether she would let me wear a wedding gown, and what she would wear. "Yes, Maxine," I said. "I will marry you and be your wife." I stood on my tiptoes and kissed her. I so wanted her to take me in her arms and kiss me back. Instead, she stepped back and folded them across her chest. "No more kisses," she said. "We have to keep this a secret until you withdraw from school and I resign from the board. It's hard. You are so very tempting." She pulled a tiny jewel case from her trouser pocket and opened it. In it were two diamond engagement rings with matching stones in identical settings. I oohed and aahed appropriately. She slid one ring onto my left ring finger, where I watched it sparkle in the light. I slid the other ring onto her left ring finger. We held out our hands and admired them for a moment, and then she took them off our fingers, put them back in the case and pocketed it. So frustrating! I cried that night, and I hoped she did, too. ~ ~ ~ I withdrew from The Academy the next morning, officially for family reasons that I declined to discuss. Knowing I had nowhere to go, Miss Backstitch kindly allowed me to stay a week in one of the guest rooms on campus, where I managed to have a private moment with Parvaneh. It was so sad! I was leaving her - as far as she knew, forever - and I couldn't tell her why, or where I would go next. I vowed to make sure she was invited to the wedding, if it ever happened. A week later, Maxine resigned from The Academy's board of directors. She told me Mr. St. James was furious when he found out, but since he was no longer on The Academy's board and I was no longer a student, he couldn't get custody of me for any amount of money. Maxine threatened to get a restraining order if he contacted me again. He never did. Before we announced our engagement, Maxine bought me a new wardrobe. New lingerie, petticoats, sleepwear and shoes, and new dresses: modern versions of the vintage fashions I loved to wear, sensible cotton shirtwaists for daytime, each with a matching apron; cocktail dresses to greet her when she got home; a form-fitting, thigh-baring LBD, for evenings out; and an ankle-length formal gown of swirling amethyst chiffon for special events. When I thought we were done shopping, she insisted on making one more stop - at a fetish-wear shop. where she had me try on three different French maid's uniforms with matching petticoats and pinafores. To my utter humiliation, she bought me the frilliest one, in pink satin, and she made me wear it out of the store. "I won't make you wear a maid's uniform very often," she said as she drove home, "but I'm thinking of giving formal dinners once or twice a month that will require the service of a maid, and I know you make a lovely one. You can alternate between your pink and black uniforms! Won't that be fun?" I wasn't keen on the idea of dressing as a maid in front of her friends, especially not in pink, but of course I would do it to please Maxine. We began wearing our engagement rings and announced our betrothal - not on social media, but only in handwritten letters, mostly to Maxine's colleagues at The Academy and her attorney's practice. As the prospective bride, I had to write them all. Only two went to my side of the aisle: to Nana, and to Parvaneh. I think Maxine must have done an amazing job of talking to the important people in advance, because I heard no whispers that she was throwing herself away on a little crossdressing nobody... which was certainly the truth. Two weeks later, we married at a lovely little chapel near Chester, Vermont. Just the two of us, Mrs. Sweet, Miss Backstitch, Ms. Abercrombie, Miss Slipstrap, and, at my insistence, Miss Parvaneh. (That was another thing I could try to fix if I joined the board of directors - stop giving new girls demeaning names like Bethany Bottom, and just use their real girly names instead.) We had the honor of meeting Maxine's mother, Marianne, a stately woman with a French accent who politely bore our campus gossip. I'd been tempted to get a big poufy wedding dress but, considering the simplicity of the occasion, instead had chosen a simple and rather inexpensive white satin A-line dress with princess seams, with no lace or other decoration except for a tiny frosting of seed pearls at the center of the neckline. On my wedding morning, after makeup and a blowout at a beauty parlor in Chester, I slipped into my dress and lingerie, white satin sandals and a bust-length veil, and carried a bouquet of tiny white roses. Maxine wore a white linen pantsuit with a white rose in her lapel. When we were ready, we drove to the chapel. A female justice of the peace - a middle-aged woman named Judith, wearing a simple navy dress with a pretty scarf - presided. Before the ceremony, she made me show my ID. She embarrassed me by asking if I was male or female. I didn't lie. She said that because I was under 18, I needed the consent of my parent or guardian in order to marry. She asked if that person was present. "I'm his legal guardian," Maxine said. "You can't give consent," Judith said. "Not if you're the one marrying him." I panicked. Now what? If Maxine couldn't consent, I had no other parent or guardian except Nana. I'd left school, so The Academy could no longer claim to be in loco parentis or whatever it was. I was afraid I'd have to call the wedding off, and then what would I do? Go to work as Maxine's maid? I gave her a frightened look. I needed Nana! Maxine ignored me. "I understand," she told Judith. She looked over her shoulder. "Mrs. Little?" I heard a woman's footsteps enter the chapel, clicking on the stone floor. I turned quickly, making my wedding gown swirl around my hips. There was Nana, hobbling up the aisle with the aid of a cane. "Nana!" I shrieked, and ran to her. I was careful not to crush her in my arms. "How...?" She raised a finger to my lips. "Later," she rasped. She identified herself to the justice of the peace as my guardian and showed her something I did not know existed: birth certificates for four generations of Littles, from her to me. "I'm the only relative he has," she said, "and I consent to this marriage." Judith examined the documents carefully and handed them back to Nana. "A bit irregular, but it'll do," she said, and proceeded with the ceremony. It was short and sweet. Two minutes later, we said 'I do' and exchanged rings and were pronounced husband and wife. Maxine raised my veil and kissed me for the first time. I took her name and became Mrs. Lisa Moreau, the spouse of Ms. Maxine Moreau. The first wave of emotion that washed over me was a profound sense of relief. I had done it! I was married to a strong woman who loved me and would support me and would keep me safe. The second wave was a profound sense of embarrassment. Here I was, a genetic male, corseted in a satin wedding gown and veil, wearing bridal makeup and an elaborate updo decorated with baby's breath and tiny white roses, while my bride reminded me of a younger Ellen DeGeneres in her perfectly tailored white linen trouser suit and tousled hair. I wondered what Maxine's mother thought of her daughter's choice of spouses, and suspected she was too polite to say. Maxine opened a bottle of bubbly - not champagne but prosecco, which she said was lighter and more fitting for an all-female party - and filled flutes for everyone. Mrs. Sweet proposed a toast to the happy couple. We emptied the flutes, and then strolled around the corner for an elegant wedding lunch at a stylish bistro, with a lot more prosecco. I drew Parvaneh aside when she had to go. We air-kissed each other's cheeks. I wanted to sink into her arms and let her ravage me with kisses, but could hardly do that at my wedding to someone else. "I forgive you, Lisa. I foresaw this from the day we met," Parvaneh said. "It's our destiny. We were fated to love and then be parted forever. I will miss you always." Tears spilled down my cheeks. I dabbed at them with a tissue, hoping my makeup wasn't ruined. "Parvaneh, I will miss you always and forever. You are the bravest and most beautiful girl I've ever known." "No, Lisa, you are the most beautiful." "No. You are," I said, and it degenerated into a silly contest of compliments until we got serious and emotional and the tears flowed. I'm sure I made a spectacle of myself. She was my first love and my first heartbreak. I felt guilty for having allowed myself to be taken away from Parvaneh and given to Maxine - not that I could have stopped it, but I was weak, I had gone along with whatever people at the school had told me to do. Maxine told me to wait while she fetched her car, leaving me with just Nana. It was then that Nana told me the family secrets that changed my world, changed everything I thought I knew. ~ ~ ~ "This might be the last time you see me, Lee and Lisa," Nana said. "There are certain things I need to tell you." "First tell me you'll live forever, Nana," I said. "I'd be lying if I did," she said. "Where do I start? I wonder if you know that I'm an alumna of The Sweet Academy." "You?" I said, shocked. "You mean -?" "Yes, Lisa. I was born a boy like you. My father left us and my mother raised me in dresses from birth - maybe in revenge, I never knew. She shipped me off to The Academy when I was twelve. I married a strong woman like your Maxine, and she bore our child, a boy. We sent him to The Sweet Academy in his turn, and... well, let's just say you're not the first boy in the Little family to be trained in the feminine arts. I have an album of old family photos of boys with Academy-trained deportment wearing lovely dresses and uniforms of their era. Your father was a nasty exception - I warned your mother not to marry him, but she didn't listen. Fortunately, his bad blood hasn't come out in you." I was stunned. Generations of Little boys turned into girls? I wasn't the first? "There's more to the story," she said. "I'm not a poor woman. I was fortunate enough to receive an inheritance early in life, and I invested it wisely, and over the years I've done well enough to become The Academy's largest financial donor. I always stayed behind the scenes and refused to join the board, but no one has done more than me to keep The Academy financially secure. So you will understand that The Academy has a lively interest in finding out who will inherit my money when I die. Do you want to know, Lisa?" I realized what she was about to say. I stopped breathing. "To you, my dear," Nana said. "All of it." I was too embarrassed to ask. "About seven million." Oh my God. "To me?" "Yes. You will become a wealthy woman when I die." She smiled. "I hope you won't be tempted to hurry me along! Mrs. Sweet, naturally, hopes you will continue to support the school in much the same way I have. That, my dear, is why she made sure you ended up under the protection of Maxine Moreau rather than Geoffrey St. James, who is a much less generous donor, and who in my opinion uses the school only to find and seduce underage girls." Eww. Disgusting! I was so glad to have escaped him. "So all this has been about money? Not love?" I said. "For Mrs. Sweet, it's all about the money. She's the only one of us who didn't try to keep you for herself." She put her arm around my waist. "It's quite different for Maxine. I've talked to her. She doesn't care about the money - she's quite well off herself. It's you, Lisa. She's infatuated with you. She thinks you're the most beautiful girl she's ever seen. Yes, she's a bit older than you, but she'll give you what you need: a strong spouse to protect you, love you, take charge of your life and give it meaning." I choked up with emotion, found it difficult to speak. "That's not all," Nana said. "The Academy had three board members. Geoffrey was removed. Maxine resigned to marry you. Mrs. Sweet is the only board member left, and she needs to nominate at least two more. Would you like to join the board of directors of The Sweet Academy?" "Me?" "When you turn eighteen. Think about it, dear," Nana said. "You would be in a position to do a great deal of good for boys like you, boys who want to live their lives in dresses and be accepted as girls." I thought about that. Maybe I could change the Academy's unfair Work Experience program so that the girls worked fewer hours, got paid for their work and spent more time in class. There was no reason that schoolgirls should have to dress in housekeeper uniforms and clean toilets and empty wastepaper bins in downtown offices at night. Her eyes twinkled. "More important... are you ready to satisfy your beautiful groom tonight?" I blushed. "Yes, Nana." "How will you bring her to climax?" So embarrassing! "With my tongue. And fingers. My... other part doesn't work very well these days." "Oh, so you're still taking your vitamins?" "They aren't vitamins, Nana." "I'm glad you know it," she said crisply. "Don't forget her nipples." "I won't! We studied it in, uh, Science for Girls..." She snorted. "In your room at night, you mean. Ha! You and your delectable Persian girlfriend." I took a deep breath. "Nana, Parvaneh is special to me. She's brave and strong and good. I'll tell you her story sometime, but believe me, she deserves your respect. What's happening to her? Can you protect her?" "She is perfectly safe, now that Mr. St. James is gone." Nana laid her hand upon my forearm. "But you are married to Ms. Maxine Moreau now, so let me give you some advice before you go join her. Your job is to make her happy. If she is happy, you will be happy. Let her wear the pants in the family, be the husband, earn the money, make the decisions. You are now her pretty little housewife, a role I hope you will embrace. Your job is to obey her, spend her money, and bring beauty and pleasure to her life. I only wish you could bear her a child." "Oh, Nana!" I tried to hide my inward shudder. To get all big like that, waddling around, going through labor, screaming in pain... ugh! "But Maxine could bear a child," she said, "and by the end of her pregnancy, your breasts could be fully grown. With the right hormones, you could nurse the baby and become its mother and raise it as a girl, and dress it in the cutest little dresses, with ribbons and bows and ruffles and lace." "Ooh!" I moaned. I felt my nipples erect. I wondered if a nursing baby's lips would feel as good as a roommate's lips. "Meanwhile," Nana said, "would you like your Parvaneh to get a job at The Sweet Foundation? It's the charitable arm of The Academy. The office is on campus, just across from Administration. She's qualified. Very high grades." "Oh, Nana! That would be wonderful!" "Mrs. Sweet is looking for a director of marketing in Asia. There's a big demand for trained Sweet Academy girls there. You might have to wait on Parvaneh as a maid at one of Maxine's dinners. I'm sure she'll be invited - Max thinks very highly of her, and knows you do, too. Max might even invite her to stay overnight and make you serve as her lady's maid." "Oh, yes!" I said. "I would wear my pink uniform and curtsy to her and give her hair a hundred strokes every night." "I'll bet you'd give her a hundred strokes, you little tramp! Dreaming of Miss Persia while Max is waiting for you! Go on, you! Scoot!" I laughed and thanked Nana, whom I loved more than anyone else alive, for everything she'd done for me, and made her my prettiest curtsy. Outside, I found Max parked at the curb. Like a gentleman, she got out, opened the door for me and helped me and my dress into the car. As she drove us back to our wedding suite at the B&B, my excitement rose. Max and I had been so good, controlled our passions for so long, and now it was time for our reward. I was so looking forward to not being a good girl! I was ready to be bad. I was ready do my wifely duty to my Max, with tongue and fingers and whatever else she wanted. I looked forward to starting my life with her, making a proper home of her luxury loft overlooking the Hudson, getting to know Max's friends and serving as her hostess, Mrs. Lisa Moreau. I looked forward to practicing my new signature for the invitations and little notes I would now be writing to friends and other hostesses. Back in the bridal suite, Max unzipped me and helped me out of my wedding dress, petticoats, sandals and panties, but told me to leave on my corset, stockings and veil. She picked me up, carried me to the suite's king-size bed and laid me gently on its satin sheets. "Now I can touch you without breaking the law," she said, looking down at me. She reached inside my corset cup and tweaked my left nipple with her finger. I quivered. She pulled the nipple out of the cup and licked it. I shuddered in delight. "And I can kiss you," she said. She bent over and kissed me, gently at first, then with her tongue. Her full weight descended on me. I wriggled in pleasure, panting with need, too breathless to reply. I lay there scantily clad in my white bridal satin, nylon and tulle, all soft and submissive, looking up at my Max, waiting for her to take my virginity however she wished, ready to pleasure her any way she wished. She whispered in my ear, and I slid down the bed. Modesty forbids me from saying more of a night I will remember always. The End