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Hi Everyone

   Welcome to a neat little Wednesday round up of fun items sent inro S.S.n.S towers for our collective enjoyments..

First up the continuation of Kitka's super fun reimaginings of the Sissy Corp adventures

Stay tuned, more to come soon 

The Bergman group have asked me to advertise their latest recruiting run.

From our dear friend Amber. Andy may be settling in, but some areas are still causing him stress, as the whispers continue.

Wednesday would not be right without another tale of solo travel.

Now for the next 2 chapters of Mistress Leather Beth's Awesome story 

                                 More Fun In The Village

Chapter 3

Let’s have a look around the village, with its many kinky (or otherwise) inhabitants and visitors.

The Queen Bee is, of course, Jane. For as long as anyone can remember, her taste, her style, has been smooth. Smooth and slick. Smooth and slick and shiny. The tightest, the highest, the glossiest. For the longest time she has indulged her own particular taste. Maybe not even a specifically kinky taste. Just… Jane’s.

Then we have our dear, sweet Andy. So happy nowadays as the girl that his dear aunt has always known him to be. And so very sexy. And so very lucky to have Will to provide satisfaction. To both of them. Will’s pride in having Andy as his girlfriend was there for all to see.

Will had always assumed that he was straight. But what’s a guy to do when he discovers that his best friend is the prettiest, sexiest girl he’s ever seen? A couple of adjustments to his sexual technique were more than worth it.

Kat and Jojo are a delightfully odd couple. Before meeting Jojo, Kat would have happily slept with either sex, or anyone in between. But now, with Jojo, she has every variation in one. Bisexual. Femme but not sissy, with some interesting kinks. A perfect couple. Carmel is so happy as well.

Then the Coopers. We discussed George back in ‘The Extravaganza’ (Chap. 3). “(Jane saw) a pubescent George Cooper poring over photos of Cathy Gale and Emma Peel, the odd edition of Atomage, (or even Miss Sadie Stern’s Monthly); she saw how a strong lady in leather might become a young man’s ideal female, one for whom he would happily do anything (suffer anything?). Then, years later, he meets Izzy and, to his total joy, she accepts his service.”

As for Izzy (Lady Magdalena), she had met Lois Watkins (Madame Stella), on their second day at University, and they’d immediately hit it off. Stella was a few months older, and had already taken a gap year, setting up as a Professional; while Izzy had long been aware that her destiny involved making men squirm, blush and cry. The pair had set themselves up as the Uni’s in-house Dommes (even if only semi-pro). In due course they’d graduated, Stella to the life of a jet-setting Cruella, while Izzy turned her degree into a well paid job with an up and coming businessman, George Cooper. But the friends had always kept in touch, and were now back in tandem.

And what can we say about Polly Evans? One doesn’t like to bandy a lady’s age, so let’s just say that, back when Jane was still at school with Nats and Millicent, Polly was already something of a celebrity in bondage video circles, especially among those for whom ‘knots mean orgasms’.

Chloë had been a slut for as long as she could remember. Laura, her mother, had combined ‘the talk’ with a heavy dose of encouragement, and Chloë had become an even more serious slut, of whom a certain type of mother could be proud. So Laura had been very surprised when Chloë had returned from her gap year after barely a month. The idea had been to go fucking round the Far East with Kat’s sister and cousin. But instead, she’d returned with some weird tale of excessive amounts of sex. As If. Laura had left off enquiring until Chloë had got the HotHouse job, with its access to vast amounts of kink, then one evening she’d sat her daughter down and asked what was wrong. After a few seconds silence she’d opened her laptop and started a video of a submissive girl in a dungeon.

“Your ambition?” asked Laura? Chloë, staring at the floor, had nodded. “Then we’ll have to see what can be arranged,” said Laura.

A few days later Laura had found herself chatting online to Master Karl and Mistress Debbie.

Jeremy Fortescue-Maltravers, 8th Earl of Harrogate, had always known, deep down, that his mother, the Dowager Countess, would rather have had a daughter than a son. He was still unsure as to how she got to hear of The Sisterhood, or to make the booking for their Open Weekend. He hadn’t really fancied the prospect, when he’d heard it being explained to his mother, that he had all the potential to be pretty, effeminate and submissive. But that had all changed when Madame Kane began his first makeup tutorial. Suddenly he had a gorgeous complexion, glossy crimson lips, beautiful cheekbones and sultry eyes. His mother was visibly moved. Then he was fitted with his plug, black latex maid’s dress and his 8cm heels. To his delight, he walked in them with ease. He was then taken to another room, where Madame selected a swishy cane, bent him over and raised his skirt, exhibiting his pink latex panties, which she lowered. Jeremy looked pleadingly at his mother, who merely smiled and encouraged him to be a good girl. Swish, and the first stroke landed. Jeremy bit his tongue and ground his teeth. But by the third stroke he had relaxed considerably. When Mistress told him to rise after the tenth stroke, he found himself thanking her. By the time he and his mother returned home to Knaresborough Castle a few hours later, it had already been decided that it would be as Jessica that he would return in ten days’ time to undergo maid training and full scale feminisation to include, in due course, C cup implants.

Kerry’s story was told in Chapter 2 of “The Spy Who Came Into The Pavilion, and Baby Diddum’s in Chapter 3 of The Extravaganza.”

And I bet everyone’s forgotten Budgie Anderson’s enthusiasm for a regular session in a vac bed.

Tori? As yet, nobody is sure as to her long term reaction to the death of her fiancé a couple of weeks before the wedding; sudden heart failure. It was a few years ago now, but Mayfield and other members of the family still noticed her periodic, if occasional, bouts of depression. Maybe the Royal Enfield 650 and Jessica were Tori finally taking the advice she’d often been given, to ‘loosen up’.

Martin? Just a classic example of a teenage boy attracted to the pleasures of dressing, he had been caught by his mother. But instead of tears and anger, there was encouragement, pride even. Martina would qualify as a ‘handsome’ girl. Not beautiful, like Andy or Jessica. Not hot, like Kerry. But definitely more than just passable (as well as being very well hung).

“MARTIN! yelled Derek, the foreman, as the convoy arrived back at the vicarage. “Where the heck (for the benefit of Mayfield) have you been?” Derek had seen enough vicars in this job to be able to spot one a mile off.

“Sorry, Derek, but you did ask me to get the key from the vicar.”

“You weren’t supposed to spend half the day on it,” said Derek, attempting, without staring, to get a good eyeful of the two ladies with whom Martin had shared the bike, although the entire return round trip had taken a mere thirty seconds.

“Well, here it is,” said Martin, handing over the key.

“Just as well we had an external inspection to perform. Otherwise I’d have had to explain to the gaffer what the flip we’d been doing all day.”

“Erm,” said Mayfield, “is it safe to take a look round the inside?”

“Well”, said Derek, “now that we have access, just let me get my blokes to give it a quick safety check, and I don’t see why not.”

While they were waiting, Kerry strolled over to Andy. “Can I have a word?”

“Is it about Martin?”

“So, you’ve noticed?”

“Well, you know what they say. It takes one to know one,” said Andy.

“Excuse me,” said Will, “but what are you two on about?”

The fembois glanced at each other and giggled.

“Sorry, Will, but you don’t have our advantage,” smiled Andy.

Will frowned and tried his serious face. “Please. Explain.”

Another glance. “OK,” said Andy. “It’s Martin over there.” 

“What about him?” asked Will.

“He’s a femboi.”

“Oh, I see. Well, you two would know, I suppose,” he replied.

“But I suspect he’s not very experienced,” said Andy.

“Exactly,” agreed Kerry.

“So are you two planning to offer help,” asked Will.

“I’d like to, but I can’t see how it’s going to be practical,” said Kerry. Andy nodded.

A short time later, Martin distributed hard hats and hi-viz jackets while Derek explained that, for safety considerations, only the ground floor was accessible. Everyone trooped inside, and soon there were gasps of “Ooh,” and “Ah” and “Aww” as people pointed out, and commented on, the holes in the ceiling, the squelchy carpet, the numerous damp patches and all the other signs of the considerable damage inflicted by the deluge.

To be fair, people’s curiosity was quickly replaced by feelings of sadness at Mayfield’s predicament, and they withdrew after just a few minutes.

Mayfield was plainly upset, and took himself off to Choudhury’s for a packet of chocolate digestives, as much for the exercise as for needing to shop. It was Jane who spoke up. “What happens next?” she asked.

“Well,” said Derek, “before we can even begin to think about repairs, the whole building needs to be completely dried out. We’re looking at using nine, maybe ten dehumidifying units, and we’ll be needing to take readings at least twice a day, which will involve a member of the team spending a good few hours a day travelling to and from the depot. The procedure will take at least three weeks.”

Will had a lightbulb moment. “It seems to me that a resident reading taker would be a good idea, just sending you regular texts. Oo, I’ve just had a thought. Do you think you could spare Martin? I’m sure we could find room for him.”

He glanced across at Jane and gave her a subtle nod. She trusted Will well enough to immediately say “What a good idea. Would that be OK with you, Martin?”

Martin’s first reaction was to glance across at Jessica, before stuttering, “If…, if it’s OK with Derek…”

“Actually,” said Derek, “that would work quite well.”

“Good,” said Jane. “Martin can pack himself a bag when he pops home later today, and we’ll pick could him up at an agreed rendezvous. I imagine he’ll be here by the time the equipment arrives in the morning. And then, later on today, I was thinking that we might stroll down to The Beeches and welcome our new neighbour to the village.”

The story will continue after this quick Ad break. 

Back to the story

More Fun In The Village

Chapter 4

Jane and Tori had waited until Martin had disappeared round the back of the vicarage and started some little job requiring the use of a wheelbarrow. Then Jane had said, “Andy. Will. Kerry. A word please, if you wouldn’t mind.”

The three had gathered round, expecting a stern talking to. “Is there something you want to tell us?” she’d asked.

“Erm, well, Auntie…,” said Andy.

“It’s just that…,” said Will.

It was Kerry who went straight to the point. “Martin is an inexperienced femboy, and we’re looking for ways to help.”

“Thank you, Kerry, dear. I wondered how long it would take you all to notice.”

“You mean you’d spotted him?”

“Of course,” said Jane, rolling her eyes slightly.

“And you are OK with him staying with us?”

“Oh, yes. It’s a very good idea. I take it that you’ve spoken to Jessica.”

“Jessica?” asked Andy.

“You’ve not noticed their ‘connection’?”

“Connection?”

“Just watch them together,” said Jane.

“Shall I go and find her?” asked Tori.

“I have a few little things to do,” said Jane. “Shall we say in the kitchen back at the hall, in twenty minutes?”

“We’ll all meet there, then.” Jane got into Matilda and set off towards the Hall while Andy and Will, holding hands, began the stroll back to The Hall, and Tori got on the Royal Enfield and set off to pick up Mayfield from Choudhury’s.

“Wait a minute,” said Jessica, “you’re overlooking something.”

With that, she peeled down her latex panties for the second time that morning and bent over.

“Sorry? What? Oh, I see”, said Martina. And thirty seconds later, Jessica was de-plugged.

It was some ten minutes later that Tori, having deposited Mayfield in Jane’s care, reappeared and set off to locate Jessica. She walked around the back of the house to check on whether she was ogling Martin but could see neither of them. She then widened her search. A couple of hundred yards away, in the direction of the village, she realised that the sounds coming through the hedge from a neighbouring field were almost drowning out the birdsong. She reached a small gate providing access to the field, and that is where she found Martin balls deep inside Jessica, who was leaning, whimpering against an oak tree. Martin’s piston-like movements made the extent of his endowment quite clear.

During her time as a Sisterhood trainee several Mistresses had introduced Jessica to the pleasures of the strap on, but this was a quite different pleasure. Martina was plainly a femboy or sissy, yet he was also very well hung, with a taste for ass. She thought to herself, ‘Oh, I could quite enjoy being the kinky slut he uses for experimentation’, before the seeing-to that she was receiving from Martina began to swirl round her brain and slowly bring her to orgasm.

For Martin, this was almost unbelievable. From being a somewhat effeminate, if well hung, virgin with a collection of kinks, he suddenly seemed to have a gorgeous girlfriend who was at least as kinky as him.

Tori watched, fascinated. As he came, Martina seemed to penetrate even deeper, before withdrawing. The pair finally wound up enjoying a deep kiss which displayed obvious affection. Then, as Martin knelt down behind Jessica and began to clean her out with his tongue, Tori called over, “OK! you two, be in the kitchen at the Hall in no more than ten minutes!”

By the time the two had got over their shock and panic, Tori was already approaching the Hall’s front door.

“Are they on their way?” asked Jane.

“They will be when they’ve ‘uncoupled,’ said Tori, meaningfully.

“You mean they were…?” asked Jane.

“Very much so,” grinned Tori.

Jane raised the eyebrow, whilst Andy, Will and Kerry – sat at the kitchen table over a plate of Andy’s flapjacks - made it plain by their expressions that they were, shall we say, a little taken aback.

It was a couple of minutes later that the breathless couple appeared in the kitchen.

“Oh, Miss Tori, Lady Jane, we’re so sorry. We didn’t mean to, you know, but we got overtaken by, you know…,” stuttered Jessica.

Once again, Jane’s expressive eyebrow came into play. “Jessica, dear, that’s not why you’ve been summoned. The pair of you, sit down.”

Jessica: “?”

Jane turned to Martin. “Martina, dear, would you describe yourself as a sissy? A femboy? Oh, don’t look so surprised. It’s quite obvious.”

“Aunt Jane recognised my femininity long before I acknowledged it,” said Andy.

“And my mother gave me her total support from the first time she caught me in heels,” added Kerry.

Martina’s chin dropped far enough to exhibit her tonsils. It had never occurred to her that Andy and Kerry were anything other than very attractive young women and, without Jessica’s earlier ‘display’, she would have included her in the same category.

“I don’t know what to say,” croaked Martina.

“There’s nothing to say,” said Jane. “Just be aware that anyone who wishes to be femme is both welcome and encouraged in this house. I’m sure that Jessica will be more than pleased to keep you company.”

“Thank you,” they said.

“Now,” said Kerry, “our plan is to help Martin to be the best Martina she can. If that’s OK with you.”

“That would be wonderful,” said Martin.

“Good,” said Jane, “my first suggestion is that Tori gives Jessica a maintenance caning, so that Martina can see what she’s letting herself in for in that area. Would a good strapping suit you, Martina, dear?”

Martina could only manage a vigorous nod.

“My second suggestion is that Andy, Jessica and Kerry then take Martina upstairs and check her make up skills. As the instigators of this enterprise, I’m sure that they’ll be more than happy. I’m right?”

This time it was Andy and Kerry’s turn to nod.

“In the meantime we’ll drop in at The Beeches and make our new neighbour welcome.”

Jane’s biker didn’t quite match her Freddys but, as far as she was concerned, that was its problem. To Jane, she was ideally dressed. She picked up Jessica’s helmet and she and Tori walked outside. They climbed aboard the Royal Enfield and set off on the short journey to The Beeches.

The removal men were transferring the last few items from the van to the house as Jane simultaneously knocked on the door and rang the bell. It took a few seconds for a figure to appear and Jane was just about to introduce herself when her new neighbour said, “Why, Jane, how lovely to see you again.”

Jane’s initial reaction was shock. “Siobhan? Is that you? You’re moving into The Beeches?”

“I am indeed. How is your friend, the vicar? Fully recovered?”

“Recovered?” asked Tori. “Sorry, is it Mayfield we’re talking about?”

“Siobhan, this is Tori, Mayfield’s sister.”

“Yes,” said Siobhan. “I was at an event in the village a couple of weeks ago at the Grange, and the vicar came across us. He tripped and banged his head. At first Jane thought he was seriously hurt, but it turned out he’d just stumbled, banged his head against the rear door handle and mildly concussed himself.

“Tori, I should just point out that Siobhan is a Consultant in Emergency Medicine.”

Tori was about to react when Siobhan interjected, “Actually, Jane, I’m no longer at Woking. I’ve been appointed as President of the Royal College of Emergency Medicine. That’s partly why I moved here, to be closer to the direct train. As well as the fascination of this village, if you know what I mean. I’d invite you inside, but the house isn’t really habitable yet.”

“Oh, don’t mention uninhabitable,” said Jane, and proceeded to update Siobhan on the flood at the vicarage. “In fact, if you’re in an awkward spot, and not ready to return to your current home for a couple of days, you’re welcome to join us at the Hall for a night or two. We have the space, and you can get to know the village from a different point of view. Different from the Extravaganza, I mean.”

Martina and Jessica left Kerry’s room, leaving Andy and Kerry staring at each other. “Well,” said Kerry, “We didn’t quite expect that, did we?”

“Not at all,” said Andy. “Amy Winehouse? Really? Wonderful singer, great personality, of course, but I’ve never imagined Martina as Amy.”

“She’s what he’s always dreamed of, apparently,” said Kerry. “I’ve had more than a couple of boyfriends who’ve made certain suggestions as to my make up regime and wardrobe, but I’ve not let them bully me. I’m Kerry, not some hot guy’s fantasy.”

“But Aunt Jane wanted us to help Martina, and you can’t deny that we’ve made a good job of our assignment. Those eyes, those lips,” said Andy. “She still needs the correct lashes though, and it isn’t really Amy without the beauty spot.”

“True,” said Kerry. “We’ll need to get him sorted in the next few weeks while he’s here. Let’s just hope that Jessica still gets off on him as Amy. He took to those 12cm heels like he’d been born in them. And while we’re discussing him, I think one of us should offer Martina a plug. I don’t know that he has one yet and I think he would appreciate it, and Jessica would have a lot of fun fitting him.”

“Good idea,” said Andy.

“By the way, Siobhan,” asked Jane, “how is the Ponygirl troupe coming along? Busy?” She then explained to Tori. 

“Sir Roderick’s? No, we’ve had a problem.”

“What sort of problem, if you don’t mind me asking,” said Jane.

“Our esteemed leader, Sir Roderick, AKA Clive Horrabin, has just started a four year four month prison sentence for theft and multiple other offences.” Siobhan’s smile contained no hint of humour whatsoever.

“Was it expected?” asked Jane.

“What,” asked Siobhan, “a scrap metal merchant being sent down for theft and receiving stolen property? No, not at all.”

“An inconvenience, though?” asked Jane.

“Very much so,” said Siobhan. “It’s a very traditional world. As Head of stables, I did all the hard slog, but Clive was the public face.”

“Ah,” said Jane, “the old misogyny problem. Have you tried just taking over?”

“I’d very much like to,” said Siobhan, “if for no other reason than the care of the girls. A lot of them actually need to be ponies. To be tail plugged, hooved, etc. You remember Misty? Nurse Emma Carter? She’s taken it really badly. I think of her, and the girls like her, as my charges. As I understand it, this village is a haven for quite a few residents with special requirements, so they’ll understand. That is one of the main reasons why I leapt at buying The Beeches.” Jane cast her mind to The Fullerton Arms, and Josie Atlee’s periodic need to be Cottontail, the latex rabbit.

“Why don’t we stroll up to the Hall? We can discuss the village in more detail there.” Said Jane. “Tori, you’ll be OK on the bike?”

“I’ll be fine,” said Tori. “I’ll see you up there in a few minutes.”

With that, the removal van having pulled away, Siobhan made everything secure, and they set off.

“Obviously,” she said, “there’s no overall national governing body for pony troupes, so would it really make any difference if you just took over?”

“In the simplest terms, probably not, but things are rarely that simple,” said Siobhan. 

Tune in next week for the conclusion

And holding everything up on its powerful but elegant shoulders, are three new Translations of my own art by the amazing Girlie Morgane.