GIRLS' SCHOOL SISSY
from Prim

“Quite a reception, Master Glover,” says Miss Wrench, looking along the school railing through the windscreen of her car. “That’s the power of social media I expect. Yes, the girls are on their phones, ready to video the new arrival, I expect.”

“Oooohhhhhh!” A wail of desperation escapes me in spite of all my resolutions. I want to show how brave I wam, how manly. I may have been picked out at Saint Gregory’s as the best choice in the whole college to be sissy at the girls’ school, but I’m going to show these girls how hard I am, how I can make them all swallow any laughing. That is until I see all of them in their crisp white blouses and dark green pleated skirts. Hundreds of them lining the path from the staff car part to the main school entrance. Oh My God! They’re so mean and hard. They’re bitches!

The Headmistress locks the car, takes my hand in an iron grip and walks me between the two sides of the crowd in a corridor of uniformed girls all the way to the school building. My whole mouth is trembling: what must they think of me in my stepmother’s lilac nylon blouse and her purple mini skirt, with a pink plastic see-thru mackintosh down to the hem of my skirt. It must be giving them glimpses of my white panties with every step!

Thank goodness we get inside the building, but not before Miss Wrench speaks to some of the girls. “Gemma and Felicity, I need your help. Come to my office immediately.”

The two girls must be eighteen at most, with their green and gold school ties hanging over big tits, and long hair falling onto their shoulders as they follow us across the entrance hall, giggling.

“Yes,” says the Head, “he’s our new sissy. You’re going to help me get him ready for assembly.” My heart stops, especially as she starts to undo my plastic mac. The girls help her to pull it down my arms with grins all over their faces, then they begin to undo my skirt and blouse.

“Oh no, you can’t take me into the girls’ assembly!” I blubber. “Everyone will laugh at me. That’s not fair. I’ll be so ashamed. I’ll cry!”

When my skirt falls to the floor they see my cock standing stiff in the front of my panties. “Everything off, girls,” says Miss Wrench. “We’ll see to removing his body hair when he has a bath later, but for now I want him in these.”

She has clothes on hangers: a girls’ school blouse in white nylon, so crisp and crackly, with full sleeves and a large, stiffened collar with long points round my neck. “Oh please, don’t dress me as one of the girls,” I cry, and my tears are filling my eyes.

The girls laugh at me: “Ohhhh, is our poor little sissy starting to cry already?” says Gemma. “There we are, prettikins: your nice blouse cuffs are sweetly buttoned up for you. Three buttons on each wrist,” says Felicity.

Miss Wrench has another pair of panties for me, in silver silky nylon with red rosebuds scattered over them. Ohhhh, the girls slide them up my legs, holding my cock as they hook them over it, so that they tent out in front of me. I wail again as they make me step into one of the girls’ green uniform skirts. It’s lined in dark green satin and slides up my legs, over my panties, and my cock is aching as it reaches for it, to kiss it through my panties. They make me sit on a chair for white ankle socks, then a pair of Mary Jane shoes in purple patent, with two bar straps across each sock. I can’t wear these things for assembly. I can’t sit amongst the girls wearing their uniform. As the girls flip up my blouse collar to put me into my tie I beg Miss Wrench not to let it happen.

“Miss, oh Miss, you can’t take me out in front of the girls dressed like this. It’s not fair. Wait ’til my stepmother hears about it. She’ll be furious, I’m warning you.”

The girls doing my tie splutter with shock, or is it another fit of giggles? Miss Wrench sits up straight behind her desk, a look of pretend surprise on her face, and rings reception: “Has Missus Glover arrived yet?” Moments later, as the girls finish dressing me, the door opens and there’s my stepmother in one of her smart cocktail dresses, as if she’s going somewhere important. Thank God: I’ll be delivered now, maybe taken home from this hellish place.

“Miss Glover,” says the Headmistress, “how lovely to have you with us this morning to see your stepson in his first morning assembly at Saint Hilda’s. There’s only one problem: he doesn’t think you would agree to him being dressed as one of the girls.”

My stepmother snorts loudly and can’t stop laughing. She struggles to be able to speak, then manages to say: “He looks lovely, Miss Wrench. I’ll accompany you all to the assembly hall.”

“Nooooo, stepmother. Don’t let them do this to me. Help me. Get me away from Saint Hilda’s High School. I don’t wan – ahhh – gug – mmmmm – mmmmmmmmmm!” They stop me from saying any more. They’ve got a pair of panties, folded up small, and they hold my jaws wide apart and force them inside. Then a silk scarf wraps round my face and gags me so tight! Then a silk ribbon goes into my hair as the girls hold me by the arms and stop me from interfering. I feel so helpless and so – impotent! Miss Wrench stands in front of me as the girls have me ready to be taken to assembly.

“You don’t understand your position do you?” she says. “The school sissy will wear what he is put into, no whining, no fuss. Ever!”

I find I am not going to sit amongst the girls: I am brought out onto the stage, well raised so that every girl in the place can see me. The assembly is pandemonium, like a zoo, with crazy animals bellowing to be fed, but Miss Wrench raises an arm and it’s as if she had pressed the mute button. “I expect my girls to show firm control,” she tells them. “You may watch. You may enjoy yourselves.” There’s a buzz of excitement as she says that. “But you will say nothing as our new school sissy is changed into something a bit more – childish.”

My mouth is helpless and so are my arms as the girls hold onto me. I want to fall through the floor, out of sight, but I can’t. Everywhere the girls’ faces are on me, their mouths lolling open in anticipation, drinking in Miss Wrench’s words. “Ashley will be our school sissy for a month. After that we decide whether we can use him profitably for the purposes of learning to dominate men, or whether he simply needs to be punished and humiliated. We are delighted to have Missus Glover, our sissy’s stepmother, here today, and for all future assemblies, to see how we humiliate her stepson. She wants to see you laughing at him to your hearts’ content. Florence Maines and Corinne Hardcourt, I need you up here to help me dress the sissy while Gemma and Felicity hold his arms.”

I cringe as they undress me again, down to my skin, then they put me into a small, flat bra. She gives them breasts to slip inside each cup, and I’ve got a bust, bringing chaotic laughter all round the hall. Next a white blouse with puffed sleeves and a lacy collar and my tears burst down my cheeks: it’s a little girl’s blouse.

“That’s right, sweetiekins,” says the Head, “you will be dressed as a girl of four or five. See, it barely reaches your waist: it’s a blouse for a little girl.”

I stand shamefully as every girl in the hall laughs out loud at me. Then the girls bring a double white petticoat, and when they turn it inside out, it has an integrated panty in pink silk. Ohhh how my cock aches as they make me step my Mary Janes into its panty legs and slide the lacy elastics up my bare legs. The school roars with hilarity as they fluff it out around me, lifting the petticoat to show all sides of the hall how my pink panty is so stiffly pointed towards them.

Then I am put into a pleated girls skirt in pink taffeta. It rustles over my petticoats as the girls make me walk from one side of the stage to the other, stopping now and again to lift my skirts and show. Miss Wrench has a rail which she wheels onto the stage to give to the girls, laden with swinging little skirts of all colours. Oh nooooo, they’re little girls’ skirts. They can’t be going to try them on me!

“Stand him in front of the sweet little skirts, girls,” she says. “We want to see how nice they are over his panties. We’ll have to lift his skirt and petticoats out of the way, and then his naughty dicky can show us if he would like us to dress him in them. Gemma, fasten his hands to his ankles with this rope, to remind him how he will be our helpless infant sissy every day while he is here at Saint Hilda’s.”

They make me stand in front of the rail, with girls’ skirts dangling round my panty and the tops of my legs. Then they bend me over it – for punishment, because Miss Wrench has got a cane and is swishing it about in the air to get herself ready. My stepmother comes forward and opens a little powder blue skirt, with its lining facing up for the gusset of my panties, pushing into little girl skirts beneath.

The air of the hall is breathing with girls’ excitement. Every face I see is panting, mouth open, near to an orgasm of girls’ sexual arousal. Oh my God, they’re fingering their knickers. They’ve got their hands under their green pleated skirts and they’re using their fingers between their legs, watching me being made to love a rail of little girls’ skirts. Even though my nose and mouth are covered I get the thick, warm smell of girls: deodorant and girl-glow, making me feel the heat under my arms and in my panties. Ouch! Miss Wrench swipes my ass with her cane. Owww! Again. My tears stream down my face as the girls watch, not laughing now, fingering. Pleasuring themselves. They can tell I’m struggling to hold it in, but I can’t. I ejaculate helplessly into my panty, then into the little satin lined skirt, then into the little girls’ skirts beneath – and the girls enjoy a very, very pleasurable half an hour in the assembly. They are going to love coming to school every day, to see the Saint Hilda’s High School for Girls school sissy.
***
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