DRESS - DOC by wanghonghx


									                                           Dating Game

                                          By Stella Satin

A checked my voice mail in my private box. Nothing. Accessed my e-mail address for replies.
Same level of success. Kicked the waste basket across the room – What the hell had I done
wrong in writing my ads? The company MatesForLife (MFL) had produced nothing. Promised
EVERYTHING. Produced? Absolutely NOTHING! I‟d spent a chunk of money – and a lot of
fantasy hours – dreaming of success – and STLL? Nothing!

I let an exasperated sigh roll out of my mouth and picked up my local newspaper. Automatically
stripped off the main, sports, business and local, sections from all of the ads. Threw the ads into
the recycling bin and picked up my coffee. Headed for the Dining room table. Halted for a split
second. WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT? Put my coffee down and dived back into the plastic
tub I use for the recycling trash. Pulled out the stuff I‟d just thrown away. There it was!

Does the world look DOWN on you? Make you feel INFERIOR? Have trouble getting a
woman to take you SERIOUSLY? Forget all of this BS! You’re as good as ANYONE else!
Join our program – GUARANTEED to find you a woman after our training in three weeks –
or YOUR MONEY BACK! And that’s an IRONCLAD guarantee! Call 1-800- 123 – 3456 for
details! But do it SOON! Enrolment in the program is LIMITED. Do it NOW!

Okay. At just a tad under five feet two inches tall and one hundred and fifteen pounds I may be
classified as just over the „Small‟ category – but everything that ad said was true. I was TIRED
of being treated like a wimp. Fed UP to the teeth of women sniggering at me when I asked for a
date. Okay, I didn‟t LIKE the idea of telling a woman about my inheritance – wanted to be loved
for myself, not my money – but I was getting desperate! Strode over to the phone with the paper
in my hand and dialed that number..

The phone rang about three times, then a cute female voice said “Date-Training, We‟re here for
I licked my lips. “I‟m calling about your program?”
“I‟m sorry sir. But the BIG-GUY program is closed for another three months. If you‟d like to
call then? Perhaps we can . .”
“I‟m calling about the program (cough) for small men – although I may be a little on the big side
for it?” I interrupted.
“Oh! I‟m sorry sir! Your voice sounded SO deep and SO masculine, I made a mistake.”

My chest swelled with pride. Many times I‟ve been mistaken for a woman on the telephone as
my voice tends to be on the soft side. This girl sounded SO cute! I wondered if she‟d be available
for a date when the training was up, but got my mind back on track. “Can you tell me anything
about the program miss?” Making my voice even deeper.
“Certainly sir,” she said respectfully. “But please, may I have your height and weight first?”
I found myself clearing my throat nervously. “Five feet two. One hundred and eighteen pounds.”
“I‟m not too big or heavy to qualify?” I asked.
“Well, just a little bit,” she admitted. “But we can always put you on a diet – in fact a diet IS a
part of the training we put you through.”
“Want to tell me a little about the training?”
“Yes sir. Now please? I‟m not a counselor. Just answer the phone.” He tinkling laugh followed.
“So I can only give you a general idea – or would you rather talk with a counselor?”
“Oh no. You sound wonderful!”
“You naughty man! I can‟t believe that you need to attend our camp!”
“Yes sir. We have a secluded training camp where we provide counselors and on the job
“I don‟t think I need to be trained – for goodness sake!”
She giggled softly. “By your voice? I‟d almost bet that you won‟t need much – but I‟m afraid
that your attendance is mandatory. You see sir? Our approach is unique. We feel that if a man is
having difficulty in getting dates? It‟s because he may have a distorted view of what a woman
wants in a companion. So we immerse our clients totally in an environment where they‟ll find
out what the female gender is all about. I will tell you now, that it is a very expensive process –
but do keep in mind that you will be accommodated at a resort class hotel with gourmet level
food provided. We DO accept credit cards . .”
“Not necessary, I can pay by cash,” I interrupted.
“Oh! You sound so masterful! You haven‟t even asked about our charges!”
“Immaterial!” I said grandly. “I can afford it!” Then I added. “But I do get my money back if I
don‟t get a date in three weeks?”
She paused and sounded uncertain for the first time. “Keep in mind sir – it‟s three weeks after
you‟ve graduated from our training camp. But as far as a refund? I think so sir. I‟m not sure –
because we‟ve never failed before. I can check into it if you want?”
“WOW!” I thought. But then I turned on the charm. “What‟s your name, honey?”
“Cindy, sir.”
“You available for a date, Cindy?
She giggled. “Well I‟m part of the staff here – and yes, I AM available – but I have to tell you
sir, that your counselor will be calling the shots all the time you‟re here.”
“Couldn‟t you be my counselor, Cindy?”
“Well sir? I have undergone all of the training necessary, but I‟ve never processed a client yet.
You would be my first. My very first.”

I felt excitement rise in my body. “That wouldn‟t matter. Think we can arrange it?”
“No guarantee, but yes – I don‟t see why not. Though an awful lot would depend on when your
training schedule would end, as the staff here rotates off the island on a regular basis.”
“Well, if I could get my application expedited?”
“Wonderful! I just started this tour, and I‟ll be here for the next full cycle.”
“Consider it a done deal!” I said. “What do I have to do?”

That afternoon as I sat in their plush office on the mainland. I actually felt sorry for asking Cindy
for a date – the girl who interviewed me was drop dead gorgeous! Smaller than me even – with a
figure that wouldn‟t quit, gorgeous teeth and hair, and groomed impeccably. Not only that? The
other women there in the office were in the same class. Didn‟t see any men. Had fantasies about
my own little harem, so didn‟t really pay that much attention to what the woman was telling me –
just signed a whole bunch of papers – and signed a sizeable check. I mean, I could afford it easily
but it sure raised my eyebrows.

“You‟ve indicated that you wish to start training as soon as possible sir?” she asked.
“Yes. Can it be done?”
“Depends when you are available sir.”
“I‟m available right now.!” I sniggered. “Can‟t wait. Going to get a haircut this afternoon. After
that? I‟m free as a bird!”
“You don‟t have to get time off from your work?” she asked, VERY respectfully.
“No. Don‟t work. Don‟t need to.”
“Mmmmm!” she said, opening up a folder on her desk. “There‟s a group leaving in two weeks –
oh, wait a minute!” She picked up her phone and punched in a few numbers. “Cheryl? Did I
hear right? There was a cancellation?” Then she nodded as she listened to the voice at the other
end.. “Thanks!” she said, then hung the phone up. Smiled at me. “Okay Michael? If you can be
ready, we can take you tomorrow. So what will it be? Tomorrow morning early – or two weeks
today?” Then a slight frown creased her pretty face. “Though? If you don‟t mind me making a
suggestion? I‟d suggest that you get your hair done on the island – after you meet your
counselor? She may have a hair style or two she may want to try.”
“Well?” I said, touching my pony tail. It IS getting a bit long at the moment. Don‟t you think?”
“Oh no sir! I would say it‟s just about perfect as it is!”
I preened. “Guess I can wait another week or so then.”
“Thank you sir. If you read the brochure in the packet I‟m going to give you, you‟ll see that we
have suggestions for what to pack. Don‟t be surprised at how little you‟re expected to bring.
Your counselor will probably have ideas on what clothes will suit you best – and as it‟s more like
a holiday resort than anything else, most of the recommended clothes are shorts and tops. On top
of that, there‟ll be lots of clothes available for you – when you want to impress the ladies – as I‟m
sure you will!”
As I thanked her, she gave me a peculiar smile. I wondered, but said nothing.

A limousine picked me up at my place before eight o‟clock the following morning. Normally I‟d
have complained about this kind of thing, but was so hyped, I never even thought about it. The
driver was a woman – what else? – and was pleasant as she drove me to the local air field. I
hadn‟t read all of the stuff in the brochures – who has time for all that shit? So I was quite
surprised to find three other guys in the waiting lounge. I was kinda pissed off – I mean I was the
smallest! Not by much, but I was probably the lightest in weight too. I saw the women staffing
the lounge eye us up and saw some grins getting passed around between them. Made me kinda
nervous for some reason. It may have been the fact that they were all big and kinda butch looking,
but I‟m not sure.

Us guys introduced ourselves. Apart from myself, here was Steve, David, and Joe. I think they
were, like me, maybe a little intimidated. I mean it probably didn‟t mean anything, but like I just
said, all the company employees there, although still women, were big and athletic looking. Not
the little cuties from before. And there was something else too. The women gave me the
impression that they were talking down to us. This makes sense – they were all bigger than us –
but it was more of an attitude type of thing – almost like we were little kids? This even continued
onto the plane – the stewardess there – big, of course – came and individually checked our seat
belts – then actually tucked lightweight blankets around our legs. “Don‟t want my precious cargo
getting cold now, do I?” she cooed.
“Don‟t think I need it,” Steve said and started to take it off.
“Now please Steve? Let ME be the judge of that!” she said – and after giving his hand a light
slap, tucked him back in again. He blushed – but left it alone after that.

The flight to the island was just less than an hour. As we banked around before landing I noticed
that there wasn‟t a harbor. Asked her if the island could be accessed by boat.
“Oh no sir! Far too dangerous. Only way on and off is by plane.” She informed me. I didn‟t
think any more about it at the time.

There was what appeared to be a welcoming committee waiting for us as we de-planed. About
five or six very large women, and three or four „normal‟ size. One of the large women joined the
three smaller ones and advanced on us – all smiling. It turned out that the large one was Cindy –
MY counselor, and the other three were taking over my companions. The larger ladies stood
back – just seemed to be interested observers so to speak.

I was shocked by Cindy. She was SO big! Bigger than the other three counselors, though they
were dwarfed by a the other large women who seemed to be evaluating us four guys as we got
paired up with each of our assigned counselors.

But getting back to Cindy? She had to be just a little short of six feet tall, broad across the
shoulders and narrow in the waist and hips. She was gorgeous, no doubt about that – but like the
others, she was almost a perfect physical specimen simply bursting with good health “Hi
Michael!” she called out and along with the others advanced on us four little guys and, I wasn‟t
the only one that squealed when I was hugged, then picked up into the air like a child and kissed!
Then, to make matters worse, she simply cradled me in her arms “Time for your indoctrination
sweetie,” she whispered in my ear, then carried me in through the door of the nearest building and
into a conference room. I‟d have complained more – but I could see that my new friends were
being treated in the same way, so said nothing. After all, she was so much bigger than me. The
others were getting cradled and carried by women who weren‟t that much bigger than they were!

Finally, Cindy then found a large easy chair and collapsed into it, taking me with her, so that I
now found myself, sitting on her lap. It was SO embarrassing – but I could see that the others
were in exactly the same predicament, sitting on the laps of their counselors.

Finally, a normal sized woman came out in front of us. “Hello new clients. Welcome to your
boot camp!” and she flashed us a bright smile. I‟m Elizabeth, Chief Counselor. Please identify
yourselves. First names only, please.” She looked at me.
“I‟m Michael,” I said. Then Steve, David and Joe followed suit.

She consulted a sheet of paper in her hand. “Very good! But for the length of your stay here?”
she started pointing at us in turn. “You‟re Michelle, Stephanie, Daphne and Josephine. I want you
to remember these names – and no nicknames please.” She pointed at David. “Your name,
“David!” he said. “I don‟t know what . .”
“Oh, I‟m sorry. I should perhaps explain before we go any further. But Daphne? Please don‟t
interrupt a counselor when she‟s speaking. It shows a lack of respect. “Okay”.

I don‟t know what he said or did, but she gave him a smile. “Very well, Any of you who knows
this quotation, please hold up your hand. “To know anyone properly, first of all you must . .?”
I held up my hand. She smiled. “Yes Michelle?”
“Walk a mile in his moccasins?” I said.
“Wonderful! Believe it or not, you‟ve just stated the theory of our process in a nutshell!” She
paused, smiling for a second, then continued. “You people have already admitted that you have
little success in attracting members of the opposite sex, correct?”
I nodded along with the others.
“Then it‟s obvious that you don‟t understand women – and what we‟re going to do while you‟re
here? Is have you walk in our moccasins for a while – or should I say – our high heels? We‟re
going to immerse you in feminine culture during your stay. Trust me, you‟ll truly understand a
feminine outlook by the time your training‟s over. Now? Our method may sound crazy to you –
but we‟re going to start you off as little girls then, as you grow up, advance you through the
various stages of a girl‟s life. Now, some of our clients we actually start off as babies – but this
group? I think you‟re all going to be amenable to discipline, so the first thing . .”
“First thing? I‟m outta this goddam nest of maniacs!” David shouted. “Get me back to the plane.
I‟m gonna sue . .”
He let out a muffled squawk as his counselor simply put a hand over his mouth, then kicking and
squealing, he was carried from the room.
“Any questions, girls?” Elizabeth asked us.
“You‟re going to dress us as girls?” Steve asked.
“At the beginning, yes – you‟ll be two year old girls and incapable of dressing yourselves. As
you progress though, you‟ll be deemed old enough to dress yourselves. But it won‟t just be
clothes. You‟ll be expected to do what girls do. Act like girls. Go through life experiences that
girls go through. We know that it‟s not absolutely correct in terms of the ages you‟ll be assigned,
but you‟ll be using makeup starting today. Not much, but we will start on your manicures and
pedicures immediately– and your ears will be pierced – we want you to start appreciating the
feminine things in life as soon as possible. So you‟ll advance as you start acting in accordance
with our wishes. You will be given demerits and demoted if you don‟t. Understand?”
I don‟t know about any of the other guys, but I nodded.

Elizabeth smiled. “Now? Little girls need little boys to play with, now here are four little boys
who‟ll play with you.” She flashed a photo of four grinning girls – normal sized women – onto a
screen. They all looked tanned and healthy. Very attractive. Were all wearing cut off jeans and
T-shirts and smiling into the camera.

“But Elizabeth?” Joe asked. “These look like girls to me.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Well Josephine, they are! It‟s just as you grow up through the various stages
they will grow with you – but believe me, they may BE girls – but they‟ll act like boys. Won‟t be
too long before you see them that way. I‟m sorry, but they‟re not nice little boys ALL the time.
They‟ll probably tease you – because that‟s what boys DO to girls. Just a part of the learning
process, that‟s all.. Now, if you‟ve no further questions – your counselors will take you for your
first makeover.” She waved her fingers at us “Toodle doo little girls. You‟ll feel SO much better

Just as she finished talking, the door opened – and in came Dave – and his counselor. I know I
stared in shock. He was dressed in diapers with a ruffled pair of pink plastic Rumba panties over
them, then instead of a shirt he had on a little woolen vest with pink ribbon through the neckline.
He was wearing pink woolen bootees, carrying a baby rattle – and had a pacifier lodged in his
mouth! To top the whole ridiculous package he had a large pink satin bow, scotch taped to the top
of his head! His eyes were red-rimmed, and it was obvious he‟d been crying. His clothes fitted
him in scale – but they were the type of clothes a young baby, just at the toddler stage would
“Well!” said Elizabeth. “If it isn‟t baby Daphne! You a good little girl now?”
Dave turned his wet eyes to her and nodded. Elizabeth turned to us. “Isn‟t Daphne just the
cleverest little girl? She can‟t speak yet – but she understands questions, don‟t you Daphne?”
He nodded again.
“And she really loves being called Daphne, doesn‟t she?” Elizabeth cooed.
A tear ran down his cheek, but he nodded again.
“Now let Daphne be a lesson to you girls. She was naughty, so got sent back an age group. If you
want to be sent back like her? Well then, you just behave like naughty little girls too! You do
understand, don‟t you?”
Mesmerized, the three of stared at our erstwhile companion. Wanted to help –m at least I did, but
knew we were overmatched, so meekly just nodded then followed our counselors as they led us
Cindy helped me a little bit. The room she led me to was very feminine with its own private
bathroom – everything in pale ivory, pink, and other soft pastel colors. She took me into the
bathroom then ran the water into the sink. “I‟m not supposed to tell you this.” She said quietly.
“Just remember that two year old children can‟t talk too well. Don‟t forget this!” Then she
turned the water off at the sink. “There Michelle. Does that feel better now?” Then she started
running water into the bath.
I‟d no idea of what she was talking about, but then it dawned on me. The room had to be bugged!
“Yeth Mummy” I lisped and was rewarded by a big smile.
“THAT”S a girl! Let‟s make you pretty, shall we?”
“Please Cindy?” I whispered in her ear. “Let me go, huh?”
Her eyes grew cold. “You‟re not talking like a nice little girl Michelle. Want mommy to put you
in diapers?”
“Oh no mommy! Pwease let me go?”
“Go where, my little munchkin?” she said, starting to undress me.
“What? Oh, away? Maybe later. After you‟re all nice and pretty. Aha! Here comes auntie
Doris to help.”

A plump, motherly, woman bustled into the room. “And who is this pretty little girl Cindy?” she
“Her name‟s Michelle,” Cindy replied.
“SUCH a little cutie!” the woman said – and started to undress me while Cindy poured some
aromatic salts into the steaming bathwater. The scent of roses filled the air.

Then, in seconds, I was nude. The woman took my penis and testicles in her hand. “Oh look
Cindy! Nice and tiny. Won‟t have any problems hiding these! Then, happily she proceeded to
denude my body of hair using first of all a safety razor on my underarms and around my pubic
hair, then a spray, which was washed off a minute later in the separate shower stall. When I
came out of there, I was immediately installed in the bath.

There isn‟t much sense in detailing what was done to me for the next hour or so. Doris was
kindly enough, but a couple of sharp slaps on my bottom soon had me docile and submissive.
When Cindy led me from the room, my hand in hers, I was an adult version of a pretty little girl.
A pale yellow dress, with a peter Pan collar, an embroidered bodice, short puffy sleeves trimmed
in white lace – matching the three tiered petticoat under the dress. I wore white wool ankle socks
and yellow, patent leather, Mary Janes. Humiliatingly, a large pacifier was attached to a pale
yellow ribbon which, in turn, was pinned to my collar. Having been told that I‟d be forced to suck
on it if I spoke out of turn – or incorrectly – I made it a point to remain quiet.

Under my dress, I wore white cotton panties with a pattern of tiny roses – and under my panties? I
had discovered what auntie Doris had meant by „hiding’ my privates. She had put a sort of sheath,
almost like a frilly tutu, around my penis . She got rid of my erection with just a flick of a hard
fingernail. Then, she showed me how to take a single testicle and work it back inside my body,
and then the second.. Once that was done, there was a tie that attached to the tip of the sheath to
pull it back tightly under my empty sac then attached it to a lace that went around my waist. She
took my hand. “Now Michelle? Just feel what a pretty girl you are!”
And other than the softness provided by the chiffon tutu, there was nothing under my hand at all!
“Know what that is, sweetie?” she asked me.
I shook my head.
“That‟s what we call your girlhood,” she told me. “Now, what is it?”
“My girlhood?”
“That‟s right! My you‟re going to be the sweetest little girl!”

My ears had been pierced and now held gold studs in place. My finger and toe nails had been
coated with pale pink polish. I wore makeup – very pale, but Doris had explained that little girls
shouldn‟t wear dark colors and how she would do it for me the first few days – but I‟d be in
diapers pretty quick if I wasn‟t expert at putting on my own makeup pretty soon! I carried my
makeup in a yellow plastic handbag – with a picture of Snow White on it. “Just like a BIG girl!”
Cindy said lovingly. My hair had been curled with a hot iron into a sort of modified “Shirley
Temple” look.

Naturally, I felt ridiculous – but this was ameliorated somewhat when I saw my three companions
who were being led into the room by their counselors.. I guess that the women felt that David
had learned his lesson, because he looked decidedly chastened, but in a little girl‟s frock, similar
to mine – only in pink. Steve was in lavender, and Joe was in green. None of us could look any
of the others in the eye.

Elizabeth was back. “Oh! What lovely little girls! Now we want you all to introduce yourselves
– one at a time. Face your little friends, then make a pretty curtsey, and tell them your name.
Then, after that? We‟ll let you all act like ladies – and you can kiss each other – just like grown
ups do. Won‟t that be fun? Daphne? Why don‟t you go first?”

Then David, myself, Steve and Joe, stood there in front of amused women and introduced
ourselves as Daphne, Michelle, Stephanie and Josephine respectively, holding our dresses out to
the side and curtseying prettily as we did so. Then, conscious of each others‟ scent and makeup,
we all brushed cheeks with each other as the women looked on and applauded.

That was bad enough, but then we were made to hold hands in a circle and play games like
London Bridge is Falling Down and Ring a Ring A Rosie, and forced to squeal and giggle like
little girls as we did so. Then, we were told that it was our nap time but as a special treat, we
were allowed to sit on our counselor‟s knees. There, we were all told to pull up the front of our
dresses and petticoats to reveal our panties. To delighted gasps from the audience, our panties
were then pulled down at the front, to reveal our soft, pastel colored, chiffon „girlhoods‟. I don‟t
know about the other guys, but I was perfectly happy to get carried out of there, undressed, then
dressed in a little girl nightgown and put down for a nap.

The „boys‟ made their appearance the next day. They played rough! Us four were told that
ladies don‟t fight – but it would be perfectly okay to cry, or tell our counselors. This was
embarrassing at first, bur it wasn‟t long before we recognized that we couldn‟t compete with them
and it became a regular occurrence to see one of us crying – or whining “I‟m going to tell on

The next few days were basic training to be little girls I guess. Along with having to put up with
the „boys‟, we had to show a marked improvement in putting on makeup and taking care of our
hair and nails. Concerned about our rumps being reddened, we all worked very diligently at this.
We also learned that we seemed to be wired for sound. After all of us had been spanked soundly
for inopportune remarks when nobody else was around, we picked up on this easily. From that
point on, we all talked in the manner of little girls – complimenting each other on our dresses,
makeup, etc – and miscalling the „boys‟.
Then, one morning, we all woke up as young girls – the pinafores and petticoats gone, replaced
with straight plaid skirts and white blouses, saddle shoes and longer earrings. It may sound silly,
but I think that all of us breathed a sigh of relief. Not only that? The boys were nicer! Gawkier
perhaps, but sweeter somehow. I found out that I enjoyed teasing them. It was SO much fun!
And there was an air of excitement between the four of us somehow – the makeup was a little
more distinct – and the perfume and powder available to us was more adult – more sensuous? I
found myself one night twittering like an excited bird as the four of us compared notes on how we
felt. I didn‟t tell anyone else, but I let Tom – the redhead – kiss me in that time frame. He was
SO shy – but it was nice.

We also started getting trained in deportment and home economics – not too heavily mind you –
there was lots of time for play and slumber parties where we all put our jammies on and told
ghost stories. None of us cared too much for the lessons in dress making, bed making, laundry,
cooking – and all that stuff – but after a while? It got easier as we learned and I found it nice and
relaxing to sit with the other girls and chat quietly as we embroidered or crocheted in the late
afternoon or evening..

The next phase – mid-teens- was strange. Like the others, I woke up one morning with budding
breasts – and wearing a sexier nightgown! When I woke, there was an immediate reaction – I
wanted to rush and see if the other girls – guys, I mean – had matured the same as myself. I was
a little put out when I discovered that Stephanie‟s breasts were bigger than mine, but once I saw
that my own development exceeded both Daphne‟s and Josephine‟s I didn‟t feel too bad.

There was something else. It was kind of embarrassing to discuss with my friends, but after a few
shy and tentative conversational leaders, we all blushingly, admitted that we were getting excited
„tingles‟ up inside our backsides – especially when boys were around. Came to the conclusion
that while we‟d been getting breasts implanted we‟d also had some sensory transmitter implanted
up „there‟. We were also all introduced to the idea of having menstrual cycles – and the need for
sanitary towels. Naturally, our „cycles‟ didn‟t last for any appreciable time – usually about three
days – but for some reason we‟d get cramps and get grumpy with each other. Stephanie especially
was a pain, but we learned to put up with it.

We were now all being trained more exclusively on making ourselves attractive to the boys.
Taking care of our complexions – fussing with styles and hair colors. Learning about fashions –
and what colors suited us. We were SO thrilled when we discovered high heels in our wardrobes
that day! Then our first bras! Then bikini swim suits (The first time we all strutted down to the
pool in our colorful bikinis, high heels and gauzy wraps, our hair all pinned up? You should have
seen the boys! It was comical! It wasn‟t so much fun later when the took us one by one and
threw us in the water. We all squealed and protested, but it didn‟t do us any good. Tom
apologized later, but I wouldn‟t let him kiss me for a long time – although I was tingling like mad
inside all the time he was pleading.

Later he asked me out on our first date. He drove me down to the beach where he parked – and
we necked. I slapped his hands away the first few times he tried to put them on my breasts, but he
kept on pleading softly – just to touch them? You know? And then, somehow, he‟d undone my
bra and opened up my dress at the front – and was kissing them! (I really didn‟t get that much
sensation, but he seemed to be enjoying it so much, that I just sort of stretched out and let him
worship me). But then, his hand was up under my dress! Caressing my girlhood! And his hand
seemed to have something that vibrated in it – and was probing at my anus, under my panties.
Helpless now, I lay under him as he kissed my lips, caressed my breasts – and slid this „thing‟ in
and out of me while I clung to him and moved my body up and down, totally under the control of
the thing he had in his hand. Finally, without the benefit of an erection, I felt as if something had
given inside of me – and squealing, I soaked my girlhood. It was SO embarrassing! I had to get
back to my own apartment, with a great damp spot on the front of my dress! Luckily, nobody
saw me.

We started dating regularly. He wasn‟t so shy any more – but what he did to me? I couldn‟t resist
him! I was wetting my all girlhoods regularly – and started dressing just the way he liked me to.
Satin, tight skirts, peasant blouses. The other girls started calling me „slut‟ – but I didn‟t care.
Very high heels. Seamed stockings. LOTS of makeup. I learned how to give him blow jobs.
Didn‟t really care for kneeling down in the back seat of his car and taking an ugly dildo in my
mouth, but, as he pointed out – he wanted some fun too – and if I wanted him to pleasure me?
Then fair was fair, huh?”

Then, one night, he humiliated me. We were on a double date with Daphne and her beau – a boy
called Ken. They took us out for dinner, then as usual, found a parking place down at the beach.
It turned out that Daphne was just as knowledgeable of blow jobs as I was and it wasn‟t too long
before we were down on our knees and sucking and licking away – she and Ken in front and Tom
and I in back. But this night was different. After I‟d satisfied Tom, he put his magic finger to
work and, as usual, I just lay there, letting out delighted squeals as he did so. But then? I found
out that he was slowly turning me around, so that I was face down! My skirt was roughly pushed
up, and my panties yanked down – and his dildo was entering me!

As he held me down and pumped back and forward inside me, I had to move my face as it was
getting pressed into the seat fabric and was starting to hurt. I managed to move it to the side and
able to move my eyes just a little, saw Daphne, sitting at the front, freshening her lipstick, then
powdering her nose in her compact mirror. She finally snapped her compact shut and then stared
down at me, where I was getting humped. A sneer crossed her lips when her eyes met mine.
“SLUT!” she mouthed silently – and I started to cry.

I woke up the following morning – and screamed! My breasts were ponderously huge – and I
was FAT! Unbelieving, I waddled to the bathroom mirror – and saw the pregnant woman there –
wearing a nightdress that was strained to the limit by my belly!

I wondered what I had to wear, but when I got to the closet, I found it decently stocked with
maternity smocks and skirts and – thank god – flat shoes. I even had some nice lingerie that fitted
my new size. When I waddled out to meet the others, we were all shocked. They were now,
obviously, in their late teens – and I was the only one that was pregnant. I started to cry again –
this was blatantly unfair! I went to look for Cindy to complain, but she wasn‟t there. Ended up
with Elizabeth instead.
“Well, I don‟t know what you‟re complaining about. You were promiscuous, weren‟t you? And
sometimes, naughty girls get caught. So off you go and have your baby,” she smirked. “At least
you won‟t have your periods to complain about, will you?”

That was about all the sympathy I got – although the girls came around a lot. Even danced
attendance on me. I don‟t know how it was done, but I went through the morning sickness
routine for a few days – and developed an intense craving for dill pickles, but one morning, I
finally woke up and was back to my old shape (I mean the girlish one of course) again – although
my breasts were bigger. It felt so wonderful to get back into a pretty dress and high heels again!
I was given a particularly realistic doll – and they must have inserted some sort of chip in my
breasts because I‟d get a strange pain there- and the only way to stop it from really hurting, was to
suckle the doll for a few minutes. If we were out in public – or with the boys, the girls would
shield me while I undid my nursing bra and „fed‟ the baby.

But thankfully, the doll – and the nursing bras disappeared after a few days – and I was back to
being one of the girls again. Tom wanted to make love to me often, but now I handled him by
giving him blow jobs when I thought he was getting too randy. It was funny. I mean, I KNEW he
was really a girl, but at the same time saw myself as being HIS girl – and couldn‟t seem to break
away from that idiotic viewpoint. But? At the same time, I found I wasn‟t getting the „tingle‟
that I‟d got in the past – he started looking so young – so immature. Know what I mean?

And then, one day, the four of us were taken to the beauty parlor – and given the works! I mean –
everything!. Bikini waxed, hairdo‟s, aroma wraps, facials, manicures, pedicures, you name it –
we got it! It was Josephine that figured out what was up when we were all given brand new,
snow white lingerie – then beautiful white evening gowns. “We‟re coming OUT!” she giggled.
“We‟re debutantes! It must mean that we‟ve graduated!” All four of us let out happy squeals and
hugged and kissed like any other group of four girls would do.

A limousine took us to the main ballroom – and we saw other limos disgorging other groups of
young girls all in white and just as excited as we were. Not too many actually, probably about
twenty in all, but I‟m sure we made a pretty picture when, after we‟d all been taken to a side room
and instructed how we were to behave it was actually quite thrilling to sway out to the center of
the room, curtsey to the assembled guests and introduce ourselves. Then, our escort for the
evening was introduced and, to my surprise, every girl got a tall escort – the ladies we‟d seen
watching our progress – though in my case, it was Cindy! And? I was tingling like crazy!

The night passed like a dream. She was so nice and attentive – and we danced often. I loved
floating gracefully around the floor in her arms – knew that we were one of the nicest couples
there and flirted outrageously with her. We kissed often, but to my disappointment, that was as
far as it went. She drove me home and would only give me a chaste kiss even though I was
straining against her as much as I could. But there was a strange look on her face as she wished
me „sweet dreams‟.

She started to leave and, desperate for more of her company, I asked “Was this the date you
promised me Cindy?”
“No. Of course not. That‟ll come later,” she said, smiling.
“When?” I asked excitedly.
“Soon. G‟night!” she said. Gave me another light kiss then left.

Dreamily, I undressed and put on my prettiest nightgown. Creamed off my makeup and
smoothed on my facial crème. Went to bed. Happily drifted off to sleep.

The minute I woke up, I knew that something was wrong. I wasn‟t lying in bed – I was sitting up
on the couch! Not only that? I was wearing men‟s clothes! The clothes I‟d worn to the island!
And I had NO breasts! Had it all been a dream?

But when I put my hand to my mouth to stifle a scream, I saw my pretty nails and the polish. Ran
to the mirror – they‟d left my pretty hair! What in the world was going on? Finding it difficult to
walk on the flat clunky shoes, I started to go to see what had happened with the other girls. Felt
ridiculous when I found myself putting on my makeup – but shrugged – it just felt SO natural to
me now.

The others looked as lost and as mystified as me, and I noticed that all of us were wearing
makeup. With this, and our hair, we looked like nothing else than a group of confused girls
dressed in men‟s clothes. We all agreed that that it might be a good idea to go and see what had
happened by asking Elizabeth.

“Well, hello gentlemen!” she greeted us. “Good morning! And congratulations!”
“Congratulations for what, exactly?” Josephine asked.
“Well – haven‟t you all figured it out yet? You graduated! Not only that, didn‟t you three Joe,
Steve and David get set up with dates last night with your escorts – and you Michael? Didn‟t you
have a date set with Cindy before you even got here? So don‟t you think congratulations are in
order? You‟ve all managed to set up dates for yourselves – and the three week period has barely

She continued. “And? As I understand it, you three are scheduled to leave the island . .” She
looked at her watch “On the ten o‟clock flight. As for you Michael? I don‟t know what Cindy
has in mind for you, so you‟d better ask her I guess.”
“Cindy? What does she have to do with me leaving the island?” I asked.
Her eyebrows raised. “I‟d suppose you should ask her. I only know that you‟re not scheduled to
leave today.”
I started to remonstrate, but Daphne broke in. “But are we supposed to go back to the mainland,
looking like this? What about our hair – our nails – our plucked eyebrows?”

Elizabeth beamed at us. “Gentlemen? We‟ve found in the past that returning men to their original
shapes is a very traumatic thing for you poor dears. That‟s why we leave it entirely up to you.
All you have to do is cut your nails, go to a barber when you get to the mainland – a little touch of
a thick foundation will hide the holes in your earlobes. I‟m afraid you‟ll just have to let time fill
in your eyebrows again . . .” She looked at her watch again. “But you must excuse me my dears,
we have a new shipment of clients due in shortly – and I must be there to greet them. Goodbye!
You‟ve all been such sweet darlings!”

The four of us looked at each other in consternation after she‟d left, with every one of us patting
our hair – as if frightened that someone was going to come and cut it off immediately.
“I‟d better go and see what the deal is with Cindy,” I said. “Maybe I can arrange to fly back with
you guys . . “
They all nodded distractedly, looking as scared as I felt. Cut our nails – and our hair? I took off
for Cindy‟s place, not knowing that I‟d never see my three friends again.

She let me in, then surprised me by giving me a bone crushing hug. “Hi sweetie! Just in time.
Want to make us some lunch?”
“Huh?” I said.
“Yeah! You‟re a graduate, aren‟t you – and they teach all you sissies how to be great cooks – or
so I hear. So why don‟t you go and put an apron on and make us some lunch?”
I blushed furiously. “Hey Cindy! I‟m not a sissy! They just made me do all that stuff!”
“Made you put on your makeup this morning?” she sneered.
I blushed some more, and decided it best to ignore her taunt. “But I wanted to talk to you Cindy.
About leaving here today?” I hated the weak way my voice sounded.
“So? Go and put on the pretty apron I bought, just for you – and we can talk about it while you
make lunch! Go ON now!”
She followed me into the kitchen and grinned as I put the apron on. “I just love that pretty bow!”
she giggled as I finished. “And that frilly, feminine apron just looks so natural on you! Gimme a
curtsey, huh?”
“Aw Cindy! Please don‟t?”
“A pretty curtsey – and a nice big smile!” she demanded. Then smiled as I obeyed her. “That‟s a
good little sissy. Set the table for three.”
“Yeah, my kid sister Ashley lives with me. She‟s just been bursting to see you! She‟ll be here
shortly.” With that, she walked out of the kitchen.

I wanted to follow her and argue, but decided that it wouldn‟t take me long to whip up a lunch –
there were all sorts of deli meats and veggies in the fridge and, to tell the truth? I was sorta
enjoying the feeling of the full apron skirts as thy whirled around me when I moved. Naturally I
was embarrassed by this – what red-blooded male likes to admit something like that? But it was
obvious. I‟d been brainwashed into enjoying feminine things – it was going to take a while for
me to get back to normal. I whipped up some sandwiches and poured some water – along with a
beer for Cindy and a milk for myself and Ashley. Set the table and carried the food in. “Can we
talk now, Cindy?” I asked meekly.
“Sure sweetie,” she said, taking a gulp of her beer. “Whatja want to talk about?”
I coughed, delicately. “Leaving the island?”
She shook her head. “Nah. Don‟t think so. I‟ve got something in mind for you – and it‟ll
probably take a while.”

Her arrogance got to me. “But I want to leave! And you can‟t stop me!”
She surprised me. Let out a huge bellow of laughter. “I can‟t, can‟t I? Why, you stupid little
sissy – you belong to me! Lock, stock, and barrel! Want to leave? Go ahead – but you have the
money in your wallet – and that‟s about it! You gave ME full Power of Attorney – you really
should read what papers you sign sweetie – so if you want to go back to the mainland? Okay.
But you won‟t be able to get into your place – I‟ve changed the locks. Your credit cards have
been closed – as have your bank accounts. You might get a job at something – but what skills do
you have? Ladies maid perhaps?”

She gave me a cold stare, then shrugged. “Or? You can please me by doing what I want you to
do – for a few weeks, or a month? After that? I may let you go.”

Her confidence shook me – she could have been conning me, but I didn‟t think so. Quickly, I
backtracked. Tried to smile. “What do you have in mind for me Cindy?”
“First thing Michelle? Go and get me another beer! Then come and sit on my lap – like the good
little sissy you are!”
I raised a grin on her face when I brought her beer, then carefully spread my apron skirts as I sat
down into her lap. “There‟s a girl!” she sniggered. “SO dainty!” Then she wrapped a muscled
arm around my shoulders and I found myself snuggling in.

“Okay Michelle. Want to know what I need from you?” she said.
I nodded.
“Well, it‟s like this. Ashley, my kid sister? She‟s a sweet kid – but a bit of a tomboy – takes after
me, I guess.” She smiled fondly for a moment. “But I‟ve been trying to teach her how to be a girl!
And she just laughs at me! I need a feminine role model for her. That‟s all!”
I sat silently, wondering what this had to do with me and waiting for her to continue.
She patted my cheek gently. “YOU, you stupid little pansy! YOU! I want you to teach Ashley
how to be a girl! Be her role model!”
“But I‟m not a girl!” I protested.
“Maybe not – but you‟re the next best thing! So what do you say, huh?”
“I don‟t think that I want . .”
She rang my bell with a cuff to the ear. “Huh? What‟re you saying?”
“Er Er I don‟t see . .” I faltered, then added “Well if I can be of any help?” as I saw her hand raise
to hit me again.
“Wonderful! But here‟s Ashley now!” she said, then called out “Ashley? Come and see what
I‟ve got for you!”

Okay, I‟d taken in Cindy‟s description of her kid sister to indicate somebody of normal – small –
size. But the giantess who stomped into the house dispelled that illusion very quickly. She was
even bigger than Cindy! Maybe six feet one – probably in excess of two hundred pounds – all of
it tanned and muscled exuberance! “Finally!” she squealed. “Can I have her Cindy?”
“Michelle thinks he‟s a he again. Doesn‟t like to be called a girl,” Cindy said, pushing me to my
feet and towards Ashley.
“But her hair‟s so nice – and she‟s wearing makeup and that nice apron, aren‟t you Michelle?”
“I can explain, you see . .” I faltered, then let out a little scream as she simply picked me up and
cradled me in one arm and tickled me gently under my chin. Put her mouth down to my ear and
whispered. “My very own! My precious little dolly! Just wait until you see the lovely clothes
that we‟ve picked out for you!” But then she looked puzzled. “But Cindy? Last time I saw
Michelle, she had pretty breasts? That time at the pool – in her bikini? What‟s happened to

“Oh it‟s one of those crazy administrative decisions that they come up with.” Cindy said. “I
mean, it‟s not like the little pansies won‟t get implants again – and almost immediately. Just that
the lawyers came up with the idea that all it needs is one rotten apple to sue us.” She shrugged.
“So, after the debutante ball, we have them removed. That way, when they request implants
again – it‟s voluntary – and they can‟t bring action against us.”
“But Cindy? I don‟t want breasts again – and I‟m sure my friends won‟t either.” I said.

“First of all. Your friends? Did you see their dates at the ball?” Cindy asked patiently. “Nice big
I nodded.
“Well sweetie? These were the clients that ordered your little pansy friends.” She saw my look
of puzzlement and continued. “You see? Lots of big women like me, want their men to be small
and feminine – be their wives, sort of thing. The camp here? It makes you little sissies over –
trains you to be the kinda girls, we want.”
“But you work here?” I asked.
“Yeah. I couldn‟t afford the price they charge for a sissy like you. The money‟s good here and
I‟d saved up so that I could afford my very own little sissy. Then after I spoke to you on the
phone that day, I said I was interested in you and arranged for them to transmit a video to here as
they interviewed you. Could see that you were perfect, so had them slip in a P.O.A for you to
sign. Now I‟ve got control of ALL of yours? I don‟t need . . .”
“P.O.A?” I interrupted.
“Yeah – Power of Attorney. Amazing document. I could even put you into a home for wayward
girls if I wanted – and trust me honey? You‟d go.”

“But Cindy! You promised her to me!” Ashley growled. “Can I dress her now?”
Cindy pursed her mouth. “Can you hold on for a while kid? I promised Michelle a date with me
– but as a man – and I want to keep my promise . .”
“That‟s not fair!” Ashley wailed childishly.

I felt like weeping – the thought of a date with Cindy, knowing what I knew then, terrified me.
“Eh Cindy? It‟s perfectly okay if you don‟t want to? Maybe I can take a rain check?” I said
“Want to be Ashley‟s dolly, starting right now?” she asked, her eyebrows raised. “She‟s got
some really outlandish outfits for you – I‟m curious to see how you‟ll look as her harem Barbie.”
“Well? Maybe not,” I answered.

I took Cindy out that night – and even I had to admit that the whole thing was ludicrous. She
didn‟t cheat me, put up with Ashley‟s howls of laughter at seeing her sister in a dress and
makeup. She did demand that I wear makeup and wear a nice hairstyle – but other than that, I
was in male clothes – and expected to play the male role for the evening – opening doors for her.
Ordering her meal – then trying to lead her on the dance floor.

I had a small clutch bag to hold my makeup and finally, needing the bathroom, I went to the one
marked “Guys”. There were three big women standing talking there. They all stared at me
coldly, then one jerked her thumb. “GIT!” she said – and I fled into the “Gals”. The girls in there
smiled nicely at me as I repaired my makeup – after I‟d sat to pee in one of the stalls. When I got
back to the table where Cindy sat, I started to cry.
“It‟s all wrong for you now, isn‟t it?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Want to do it properly?”
I nodded again.

Back at the house, despite Ashley‟s protests, I was allowed to pick what clothes I wanted. The
breast forms I used didn‟t fit inside the bra cups too well, but other than that, I felt almost normal
as I swayed back into the hall on Cindy‟s arm, in a straight, coral, satin sheath – with strappy,
three inch heels. We repeated our date sequence, this time with me as the girl and Cindy as the
man. I gave her a blow job in the car on the way home – and then she humped me (twice) that
night. I wanted to object, but she was well aware that I was not a virgin in that way, so just
brushed my complaints away with “C‟mon honey. Be a good girl for me – just like you were for
that boy. Just relax and enjoy it.”

Over the next week or so, Ashley terrified me. In front of Cindy she was nothing much more
than a big kid – but when we were by ourselves, it was a different story. She‟d call Debbie and
Carol, two of her closest friends – every bit as big as she was – and have me dress and make
myself up in front of them – and make me teach them how to be ladies. They just loved to see me
put my girlhood on – making lots of ribald comments as I transformed myself into a genitalia-less

It wasn‟t so bad during the day. Cindy had given up her job – after all, with MY money, she had
plenty. But she‟d occasionally go and visit her friends – and when Ashley was at school, I‟d get
an hour or two to myself. I managed to call up my lawyer and Financial planner – but they both
verified what Cindy had told me – I‟d signed everything I owned over to her and the only way I‟d
ever see a dime of it, was if she consented to give it to me. So, hoping that if I did everything she
wanted, I became her maid. I wasn‟t too keen on formally requesting the surgery to get breasts
implanted again, but she made it very clear that it was what she wanted me to do. “After all,
sweetie? You can‟t very well coach Ashley how to be a girl without tits, can you?” she said.
But sometimes Ashley would know when Cindy was going to be gone and would skip school,
along with her friends – and all afternoon, they‟d degrade and humiliate me.

Giggling and laughing they‟d make me dress in some of the outlandish costumes that Ashley had
bought for me – harem girl, nurse, cheer leader, prostitute – French maid. She‟d been allowed to
spend a LOT of my money on a bunch of clothes and lingerie that seemed to have come directly
from Fredericks of Hollywood – and all the girls would howl with laughter as I‟d stand there in
front of them, dressed like some kind of harlot, and try and teach them ladylike decorum.

They also abused me sexually – they‟d found a vibrator in Cindy‟s room – and would use it on
me, staring with avid curiosity as one or the other of them would take me on her knees and work
the vibrator in and out of me until I came. Sometimes they‟d take my girlhood off, just so that
they could see me spurt – as if I was a man, they said. By comparison, being Cindy‟s sissy was
much easer.

Then one afternoon, they came up with a new humiliation. They had made me put on my harem
girl outfit – embroidered halter top that left my belly bare and displayed lots of breast, diaphanous
pants that left my lacy panties clearly visible – a veil that his the underside of my face, but left my
heavily mascara‟d and eye linered eyes peer out at my tormentors submissively. I also had to
wear long, dangling, earrings and matching bracelets that jingled musically at my slightest move.

They had me do my version of a belly dance, jeering and whistling – and feeling me up as I
gyrated seductively in front of them. Ashley started getting very red in the face, usually a sign
that she was getting sexually aroused. “Hey! Harem girl Barbie?” she shouted. “Come and lie
on this coffee table here!” With that, she swept the table clear of ornaments with a sweep of her

This was something new, but frankly I was tired of dancing so welcomed the break. Having
learned by this time that Ashley was very dangerous when she got red, I simpered at her. “okay,
Mistress Ashley” (she loved that) and swayed over to the table. “On my back, mistress?” I
whispered, pouting my scarlet lips invitingly as I did so.
“Yeah! At least for a minute or so. Get ON with it!” she ordered me.

The table wasn‟t long enough to take my full body so my legs folded at the knees, hung over one
end.. “Is this alright, mistress?” I cooed, looking up at her for the moment.
“Yeah! Now shut up!” she ordered, then started whispering something to the others. I started
getting nervous when they both gave her a shocked look, but then giggled then left for a few
seconds, coming back into my view but obviously hiding something. Then they knelt down –
Ashley at my waist, Debbie at my head, and Carol at my knees – Ashley and Debbie facing the
same way, Carol facing in the opposite direction.

“Aren‟t you the prettiest little harem girl?” Ashley asked, unfastening my chiffon pants.
“Yes mistress,” I answered then added “Please don‟t,” as she started to pull my panties down, to
reveal my girlhood. Then, as the other two laughed and giggled, she removed my girlhood and
eased my testicles out. They all played with my erection for a second or two, while I renewed my
pleas to leave me alone.
She ignored me. “Carol? Why don‟t you undo her veil?” was all she said and I had to look up
and see Ashley‟s friend leering down at me as she fumbled with my veil for a few seconds, until I
felt it fall away from my face. While I was distracted like this, Ashley re-aligned herself so that
she was basically lying alongside the table now, her head supported by one hand, her elbow on
the carpet.. “Now, harem girl Barbie?” she told me softly, “Why don‟t you lie on your side,
facing me?”
With soft tinkles coming from my jewelry, I did as I was told, very conscious of my erection
pointing at her.

Then, three things happened almost simultaneously. Her mouth closed around my erection, a
dildo was entered into my mouth – and a vibrator eased it‟s way inside me – and started

Then, as Carol and Debbie chatted, sliding their individual instruments inside of me, Ashley
sucked gently on my erection – and writhing and mewling, totally under the control of these three
young girls, I waved my soft, weak arms about, the girls commenting about how sweet my
bracelets sounded. Finally I came into Ashley‟s mouth. “Mmm!” she laughed, licking her lips.
“Harem girl Barbie‟s milk tastes great! Wonder what French Maid Barbie‟s will taste like?”
“Hey! MY turn!” Debbie called out.

Despite my pleas and my tears, I was made to change into my maid uniform – then serve them
soft drinks – and was made to drink a big glass of cream myself – this time, Debbie went down
on me herself as the other two laughed and cheered her on.. It took longer for me to come, but
she didn‟t seem to mind. Carol was furious when I couldn‟t come in my cheerleader costume for
her. She was so mad that she put me over her knees and spanked me until I cried. I thought that
the other two would burst when she made me wave my glittering pompoms in time with the
spanks. They didn't seem to care that waving the pom poms was very difficult when I was over
her knees!

Being eaten by at least one of the girls, became an almost daily ritual. They force fed me lots of
cream, chocolate, and ice cream to make up for the abuses they made on my body – making me
even softer, even weaker, and more and more feminine as I became plumper and plumper – while
they seemed to become even stronger and more athletic. Loved to make me wear butt plugs and
sashay about like a whore. One night, thy even dressed me as Slut Barbie – and threatened to take
me down to the local bar. I suffered a great deal of humiliation before they relented that time.

I was starting to see that there wasn‟t much hope of me escaping, but was looking forward to
Ashley‟s summer break coming up. Cindy was sending her to a very exclusive, all-girl camp for
a month. I admit that I was probably crazy, but was hoping desperately that I could make Cindy
so pleased with me during the time that Ashley was gone, that I might be able to talk her into
releasing me – even if only just a little bit. But it was not to be.

It didn‟t dawn on me what Ashley was up to until it was too late. Around Cindy she started acting
all sweet and ladylike. Cindy was SO impressed. Gave me all the credit for teaching her kid
sister how to, finally, act like a young lady. Naturally, I was all to happy to please Cindy,
although I must admit that I had some suspicion lurking at the back of my mind. Then Ashley
“Cindy?” she asked sweetly one day, just before she was to leave. “I‟ve been thinking.”
“About what, kid?”
“Well? I‟m going to camp tomorrow, right?”
“Well, it‟s paid for, so I sure as hell hope so!”
“And I was just thinking that Michelle has been such a help to me lately. I feel like she‟s really
getting through to me. And doesn‟t it seem like an awful shame that I‟ll be losing all her advice
for a whole month? Couldn‟t I take her with me?”
Cindy shook her head. “It‟s an all girl camp, sweetie. I don‟t think they‟d . .”
“But she could go as my maid, couldn‟t she? Wear the uniforms that you bought for her – like
the one she‟s wearing now? Nobody would ever guess!”

“Cindy? I don‟t think that it‟s such . .” I started to interject
“Shut up Michelle!” Ashley barked. “Be a nice girl – and go and pack my suitcases for me! Off
with you now!”
I curtsied and left the room. In her bedroom I started to pack all of the stuff she had laid out on
top of the bed into her suitcase. I saw a leather case lying there. Curious, I opened it up – and
was standing transfixed with horror when I saw what it contained – three different sizes of
vibrators – and three different lengths of dildos – when Ashley burst into the room. Grinned
when she saw my expression. “Found them already, huh? Cindy says you‟ve to start packing
your own stuff after you‟re finished in here. Me and Debbie and Carol? Can‟t wait until we can
get you to the camp – with no Cindy to bother us! Won‟t that be fun? Remind me to let the camp
know about your special diet,”
She saw my blank look. “Why all those DAIRY products you love so much! I think you‟ll need
LOTS of hem – me and Debbie and Carol? We‟re thinking of renting you out! Think we‟ll make
a bundle!”

The end

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