Mistress Psyche's Feminization Fantasies


Sissy Girl Stories


Rosie the Sissy – Part Three

By Beverly Taff

List of characters

Me Robert
Wendy My twin sister
Angela Our younger half sister by my mother’s second boyfriend
Doris My drippy mother who lets everybody walk all over her
Aunty Janet My mother’s pushy domineering sister.
Harriet Our friend from the next farm
Jessica Harriet’s older sister



Through most of the holidays, I had been dreading going up to the new school whilst pretending to be a girl. By the end of August however, I was so used to my newfound situation that I never thought of myself as a boy. Even going into town to buy our new school uniforms was a fun exercise. With every passing day, my eye for colour and style seemed to be catching up with Wendy and Harriet, not to mention my new titties and my swelling hips. Had I but known, it was all down to the supposed ‘vitamin’ tablets. My nature and mood were becoming feminised as well as my body.

The day came when Harriet, Wendy and I were standing at the end of our lane in our brand new school blazers and gymslips as the school bus came trundling along the road to pick us up for our first day at the high school. For me it felt a little strange to be wearing ordinary navy blue elasticated gym knickers under my gymslip. I had never experienced the sensation of elasticated leg holes caressing my upper thighs. All my other panties were in a vast range of colours and had masses of frills. By comparison, the navy blue gym knickers felt dowdy but Wendy assured me I would be thankful for them as winter approached.


(Author’s note.) In Britain, ‘Knickers’ usually refer to fairly loose fitting, heavy interlock cotton panties mostly worn as part of a school uniform by schoolgirls They have a full cut leg and high waist. When worn as part of a school uniform they invariably match the colour of the blazer and gymslip. This means they usually come in dark drab colours like ‘Navy blue’ Bottle green, brown or dark red. In the UK they can also be a generic term for all women’s panties usually in a light jesting manner.

What Americans call knickers, the Brits refer to as knickerbockers. That is knee length heavy tweed or corduroy trousers with either elasticated bottoms or more usually a small buckle just below the knee. These are much favoured by outdoor types for rock-climbing and other high activity pursuits.


For the early part of the school term we also had to wear ankle socks with our legs bare. Later as winter approached, we were allowed to wear seventy denier black or navy tights to keep warm. We usually wore the tights under our knickers and then a small pair of panties under our tights for hygiene purposes. All this and lots more, I had to learn from Wendy as my girlie learning curve slowly flattened out.

Fortunately, in the gym, the girl’s changing rooms had independent private cubicles each with a private shower, so changing was not a problem. Additionally, Wendy and Harriet always made sure they had the adjoining cubicles to prevent any nosey peeking by the other girls. I was thankful to be a ‘girl’ for by comparison; I knew that the boys just had benches and a communal walk through shower. They had absolutely no privacy.

By the time the first year of secondary school had ended, I felt totally a girl. Indeed my breasts were now going from an ‘A’ to a ‘B’ cup and my hips had started to round out very nicely so that I was a mirror image of my twin sister. Nobody could tell us apart and people marvelled that two ‘half-sisters’ could be so alike. If they only knew that we were actually twins albeit, brother and sister.

Harriet was also developing at a similar rate and I found myself becoming more attracted to her every day. After school, when we exercised the ponies, she wore her tight riding jodhpurs and white blouse. In this outfit her curves were doubly accentuated. As I watched her ride, it became difficult for me to stop my pee-pee growing stiff.

I say ponies because at the end of that year, our mother and Aunty Janet gave us the nicest birthday present that twin twelve-year-old girls could ever have had.

We should have realised earlier when we got off the school bus, because Harriet’s pony, Toby, was making a terrific racket from his loosebox. His calls and whineeying were so loud, that we could hear him from the road. I had never heard a stallion making so much noise. Harriet became worried and we hurried up the lane towards her farm to see what was wrong with Toby. Then we reached the fork in the lane the reason for Toby’s behaviour became clear. We were shocked and thrilled to see not one, but two strange ponies tethered to the apple trees in our own cottage orchard. When we reached the cottage, Aunty Janet and mum were waiting with a smile on their faces.

"Happy birthday girls."

"But mum!" Squealed Wendy, as I stood there speechless. "How? I mean, the money!"

"Thank your Aunty Janet and the new Job. Things are looking up."

We turned as one to our Aunty and desperately hugged her to show our thanks. Tears formed in Wendy’s eyes as her happiness overcame her. For the first time in my life, I found myself reaching up to kiss my Aunty Janet and for the first time ever I think her smile was a genuinely friendly one.

In truth it was just that she liked little girls much more than boys and I was now a virtual girl.

"Well come on then girls," she declared, " there’s no time like the present. Show us how well you can ride."

"Where are the saddles?" Asked Wendy.

"Ah. Sorry girls. Money’s not that plentiful. I’m a bit short after buying two ponies. You’ll have to ride bareback until I get my next paycheck. But I’ve seen you riding Toby bareback and you do it so well. Now it’s only for a month until my next paycheck clears the bank. Come on, go and get changed into your old party frocks then you can mount up. We can have a riding birthday party when Harriet comes over. Angela can ride the little pony, what’s her name?"

"Pumpkin," I replied, "But you’ll have to watch her. Angela hurt Pumpkin once and damaged Pumpkin’s lip. Pumpkin is frightened of her." I cautioned.

"Well Angela’s a little older now and I’ve warned her to do exactly as she’s told. Aunty Margaret’s agreed to let her ride the little mare provided she’s led on the lunge rein."

This was the only bit of news to spoil the show but we decided it was a tiny price to pay for having our own ponies.

We dashed upstairs and put on our oldest frilly frocks and panties. They were party frocks and petticoats that had become tatty with play but they still just fitted our blossoming bodies. Despite Aunty Janet’s strict dress rules, we still played on Harriet’s farm and it was impossible for even the most genteel little girls to keep the frocks immaculate forever. These were our old frocks and soon to be destined for the charity shop. We returned to the cottage garden wearing our frothy party frocks, white tights and frilly panties as Harriet was trotting across the field on Toby. Behind her followed sweet little Pumpkin with the lunge rein and empty saddle.

Harriet was also wearing an old party frock and looked very self-conscious as the frilly petticoats ballooned out to expose her frilly panties as she sat bareback bestride Toby. Obviously Aunty Margaret had told her to dispense with a saddle so that we’ three would all be bareback.

"Oh gosh," chuckled mum. "You look like the bareback riders in a circus act."

This remark settled our worries. We would indeed look like three bareback riders from a circus show, for our outgrown party frocks almost resembled tutus.

Thus dressed we approached our two new ponies carefully for they were skittish at first because of our unusual appearance. However, the sight and smell of Harriet on a friendly stallion reassured them. Toby also served to dominate the two new mares and quickly subdue them to enable us to mount. An investigative sniff of the mares confirmed that they were not yet ready for him so he stepped back and stood obediently with Harriet on his back. We all agreed, that Toby was an excellent gentleman when it came to managing nervous ladies.

Once mounted, we accustomed ourselves to the new mares and took them into the paddock. After a few circuits of our paddock we returned to the orchard and prepared for Angela to ride Pumpkin.

She was nervous at first and cried, but eventually we got her and Pumpkin reconciled. Then we took the horses over for Harriet’s mum to see our new birthday presents.

"Oh yes. I see Barnum and Bailey, have come to town," she laughed. "Do they like scones?"

This was a stupid question, for even as she opened the kitchen window, a delicious scent of baking escaped and the four ponies surged forward hopefully. Aunty Margaret gave each pony a scone and made two immediate new friends, Toby and Pumpkin having always enjoyed this treat. Then she gave us the party hamper and we returned to our cottage orchard.

"Tell your mum and Janet that I’ll be over shortly."

In the orchard we all dismounted and flashed our frilly panties as we added Aunty Margaret’s contributions to the spread on the table. The party started in earnest as we chose names for our new friends. In the end, I chose ‘Peaches’ for my pony whilst Wendy chose Apples, because she seemed to prefer homemade apple tart to scones. As we sat around the table we each fed our ponies with titbits; naughty I know, but it was a special party. Later Aunty Margaret joined us and discussed the possibility of a larger horsebox to accommodate four ponies. After Aunty Janet agreed to pitch in once we had equipped our two mares, it was decided to invest in a horsebox with a built in cabin for we girls to attend county shows over weekends and even bigger events. Things were really looking up.

After the birthday tea, we gave Angela a final ride on Pumpkin before we took our three larger mounts up on top of the Ridgeway. Unfortunately it rained and we returned home looking very bedraggled as the rain soaked through our flimsy nylon party frocks. We separated from Harriet at the fork in the lane and made our separate ways home.

As Wendy and I rubbed our new charges down and put them to bed, we giggled at the sight of our nipples and panties showing through the saturated silky frocks and wet white tights.

"We should have worn our bras," giggled Wendy, "look at these."

The cold had made our nipples stand out like organ stops through the wet transparent nylon and we couldn’t resist teasing each other after the horses were comfortable. When we returned to the house Aunty Janet’s eyes immediately fell upon our stiff swollen nipples and she smiled knowingly. Mum was busy bathing Angela so we stripped downstairs and watched television in our dressing gowns until they were finished.

Once in the shower we teased each other again but Wendy seemed a little moody with me.

"Ooooh! Who’s got the grumps then?" I teased.

"It not the grumps," hissed Wendy, "I’ve got a tummy ache."

"Oh. D’you want me to rub it better?"

"No!" She snapped. "Go and get Aunty Janet or Mum."

I had never encountered Wendy in this mood before, so I turbaned my hair and tucked a large towel around my boobs then went to Aunty Janet’s room. She was sat at her dressing table in a delightful lace-up satin corselet, suspenders and stockings.


(Authors note.) The Brits call a garter belt, suspenders.)

Aunty Janet had a really nice figure and I stared at her rounded butt briefly before she caught me in the mirror.

"Would you like to grow like this then?" She smiled as she stood and faced me.

I fell silent as my gaze fell on her ripe firm breasts then I nodded slightly as my face crimsoned. In truth I was longing to grow bigger tits, just like Aunty Janet’s. It was a long moment before I remembered Wendy’s message and I snapped out of my contemplative trance

"Oh! Wendy doesn’t feel very well."

Janet understood my feelings and smiled as she turned towards the door.

"Where is she?"

"Still in the shower. She wants to see you or mum and mum’s still seeing to Angela."

"OK. I’ll go and see to her in a minute. Can you just tie off my corselet laces before I go."

She turned her back to me then sat at the dressing table as I carefully tugged the laces tight and tied them off. She gave a pleasurable gasp then directed my hands to her ripe firm breasts.

"You’d better learn how to load these into the cups. You’ll have to do it for yourself one day."

My heart thundered as my fingers cautiously spooned the creamy globes into the cups then smoothed the satiny cups over her hardening nipples. Aunty Janet sighed then jerked as her jaw fell slack and she sagged back against me.

"Oh! That was lovely. You’ve got lovely soft hands, - so delicate, - so knowledgeable. Put your hands back in the cups for a moment."

I did as she requested and felt her nipples getting stiffer. She let out a low mewling noise for a few lingering moments then she lay back against me. Gently her head nestled between my own modest cleavage as she stroked my arms and forced my fingers against the hard round nubbins. I sniffed her beautiful hair as my eyes peeped down her impressive cleavage. She caught me peeping in the mirror but she simply smiled.

"Tits are so nice aren’t they? Do you like yours?"

"Oh yes," I sighed as I gently grazed her nipples. "It’s my nipples I like. They’re so, - so, -."

"Mmmm. Yessss! I know exactly what you mean my little pet. You’ll make Harriet a lovely friend one day."

She murmured softly then let out a soft groan of pleasure and slumped against me.

"Are you OK Aunty Janet?" I whispered nervously.

"Ooooh yesss my beautiful little darling. I’ve never been better."

Carefully a slipped my fingers out of her corselet cups and softly adjusted the shoulder straps until the tension felt exactly right. Janet’s eyes opened and she smiled again in the mirror.

"You’re really sweet my darling. You’ll be really good for Harriet. Come on, let’s go and see to Wendy."

She stood up and I studied her corselet. The slightly damp patch around her girly thing was to be expected but I wondered how she went to the loo without somebody to help undo her corselet.

"D’you need a tissue?" I asked respectfully as I motioned to the damp patch.

She looked down and tut-tutted

"Yes. Pass the box."

She lay back on the bed and tugged the gusset aside then instructed me to wipe her dry. I did as directed then she pointed to the drawer.

"There are some panty-liners in there go and get one."

I complied and inserted the liner into the gusset of her corselet. Finally I rearranged her gusset and made her comfortable. She smiled as she looked up at me.

"Yess sir. You’ll be just perfect. Come here, let me kiss you."

Her tongue probed deep into my mouth then she stood up and turned to study my handiwork in the double mirror. She smiled again.

"Those are neat little bows. Your quite the little artist, aren’t you?"

I grinned self-consciously as she slipped a peignoir over her shoulders and crossed the landing to see what was wrong with Wendy.

She reappeared briefly, took something from her drawer and returned to the bathroom. Several minutes later Wendy emerged looking a little self-conscious. She wouldn’t look at me and went straight to our bedroom. Aunty Janet returned and motioned me into her room. Once there, she sat on the bed and patted her knee.

"Come and sit here."

Cautiously I approached then hesitated.

"I’m not going to smack you or anything, I just want to explain. Come on now. Sit on my knee."

Reassured, I slid onto her stocking knees and she gently took me around the waist. Then she explained.

"Your sister is entering womanhood. She’s just had her menarche, so she might be a little uncomfortable for a few days. She will feel very insecure and her moods will swing so you will have to be supportive and gentle.

I also think you had better let her sleep alone."

"Where will I sleep then?"

"I’ll go and speak to your mother. Go and get your nightie set from your room and I’ll see you on the landing."

I crept quietly into our bedroom and Wendy was lying on the bed with her eyes closed. I wanted to ask her if she felt OK, but she appeared to be asleep. Gently I slid my nightie set from under the pillow and crept back to the bathroom. There I dried my hair and put my nightie on. Aunty Janet returned still in her pretty corselet, stockings and peignoir. She met me on the landing.

"Your mother has to get up early tomorrow, there’s an important meeting in work. She wants a peaceful night’s sleep, so you’ll have to sleep with me."

She noticed the nervous shadow flit across my face but she smiled softly.

"Don’t be frightened, petal. I wont eat you."

To emphasise this she took my hand then gently hugged me. My face got buried in her cleavage and her lovely scent filled my nostrils. I found myself threading my arms around her satiny waist and gently squeezing her ripe butt as I played with the lower laces of her corselet. She squeaked playfully.

"Oh! You little minx! And what’s this?"

She had felt my pee-pee getting hard and she thrust her corseted tummy against me.

"Well, well! Who’s a playful little kitten then? I can see I’m going to have to take care tonight. We wouldn’t want anything untoward happening, would we?"

I looked into her eyes because there was only a few inches difference in height. She studied me then smiled.

"D’you know something Rosie. I think one of my corselets would fit you. I’ve got a very pretty one that an admirer once brought me. It’s a bit too small, and I’ve never worn it, but it might fit you. Would you like to try?"

"Do bears poop in the woods?" I gasped excitedly as I fingered the divine creation that Aunty Janet wore. "Is it as nice as this one?"

For an answer, Aunty Janet rooted around in her bottom drawer and took out a beautiful white satiny creation still in its tissue paper wrapping. Then she produced a pair of silky stockings.

"Come on. Try it on."

She held the beautiful frilly corselet low down for me to step into and I felt a wave of delight surge through my body. Eagerly, I removed my nightie and frilly panties then accepted her invitation and stepped into the heavenly creation. As we both manipulated the corselet up my legs Aunty Janet grinned at my stiff pee-pee.

"She’s going to be a bit of a problem, isn’t she? I’ve got just the thing for her."

I nervously covered my excitement with my hands, but Aunty Janet just grinned.

"It’s not a problem dear. It’s just that it would be a pity to stain such pretty lingerie. Wait there a moment."

She burrowed in another drawer and produced a little sachet.

"Just put this over her. Then if she gets excited, there won’t be a mess."

She opened the sachet and produced a condom, which she promptly smoothed down over my rock hard pee-pee then resumed manoeuvring the corselet up over my waist. Once it was in place she tightened the laces at the back then stood back and looked at me.

"Are your boobs comfortable?"

I reached into the cups and made some small readjustments until my boobs felt just right. The sensations were simply heavenly and I turned to study myself in the mirror. I ran my fingers over the smooth satin panels and flicked the frilly lace edging. Janet smiled as she reached into the tissue [paper and produced six pretty white frilly suspender straps.

"You’ll need these for the stockings. Come here.

I sashayed towards her and she grinned as she bent down and took the frilly edge of my corselet.

"There darling. See, there are six little tabs where you can fix the suspender straps."

Her busy fingers made me even hornier as she fiddled with the little tabs near my groin and butt. I fiddled self-consciously to adjust the discomfort of my pee-pee and Aunty Janet smiled as she looked up and pressed her palm against the strong satiny support panel that compressed my urgent pee-pee. She slid her palm up the panel a couple of times and suddenly I found myself pumping urgently against the air as my Pee-pee exploded into the condom.

"She likes that doesn’t she?" Grinned Aunty Janet knowingly.

For an answer I just nodded dumbly as I gasped for air. Aunty Janet seemed to be able to read my every thought.

"Well never mind. But I’m afraid in future; we’ll have to relieve you before you put your corselet on. For tonight, you’re going to have to have to sleep with you pee-pee in the condom.

" I sucked thoughtfully on my lip as I considered this situation. It didn’t seem very hygienic to me and I resolved to make sure I was ‘milked’ properly each night before I went to bed.

"Now. The stockings." Continued Aunty Janet, without missing a stroke. "They go on just like your school uniform tights, but they are a finer denier. I’m glad to see that you look after your feet. No calluses or rough nails I see. I like that shade of nail varnish. Did you choose it, or Wendy?"

"We both did. We both like it and they cant see it in school under our tights. We just have to be careful during gym."

Gently, I pointed my red-varnished toes into the ‘rabbit holes’ and carefully slid the stockings up my smooth legs to attach them to the suspenders. Next Aunty Janet adjusted the clips and I stood wearing my first pair of stockings. As the suspender straps tugged at my stockings and caressed my butt cheeks, I shivered with pleasure and sashayed around the bedroom.

Each step emphasised that I was now wearing something very special and I couldn’t resist bending and stretching to exaggerate the sensations of the straps constraining the soft flesh of my butt cheeks. Aunty Janet smiled as she recognised my pleasures.

"Nice, isn’t it?"

"Mmmm." I sighed as I sat back on the bed.

"Well you’d better put this short negligee on and these mules, then we can go and have supper."

Downstairs, my mum looked at me and smiled.

"Well! You do look nice. Do you mind sleeping with Aunty Janet for a few nights? It’s just that Wendy."

"I know mum. Don’t make me feel jealous. Just because I’ll never -"

"Huh!" Snorted Mum. "Just you be thankful, young lady. It’s no pleasure, I can assure you!"

Fortunately, Aunty Janet entering with a tray of cocoa and biscuits averted any further argument. We sat watching television for another hour then I went to bed. Later Aunty Janet came up and slid into bed beside me.

"I’m glad to see you’re still wearing your outfit."

"I can’t get it off unless you undo the laces at the back. I can’t reach them and they’re knotted not bowed. Anyway it feels sort of nice to be restricted. I kind of like being supported and constrained by the corset and the satiny panels feel really slippy against the negligee. It’s really nice."

With that, Aunty Janet slid her glossy stockings against my nylon-clad legs and I shuddered at the smooth slippy sensations. Eagerly, I pushed my corseted bum into her tummy and we snuggled up like two spoons in a drawer. There would never be any naughty stuff because my corselet had a closed crotch that precluded any escape by my pee-pee. Even going to the loo meant help undoing the laces then a full strip off. The same applied to Aunty Janet’s corselet and that made it into a virtual chastity device. Nevertheless, we savoured the soft silky sensations as we cuddled up to each other and fell into a deep sleeping embrace.

In the morning, we woke up and we chatted briefly.

"You won’t ever be able to ‘play’ with Wendy in bed again. You know that don’t you?" Cautioned Aunty Janet.

"Yes," I replied, "she can get pregnant now can’t she?"

"Exactly. You’re going to have to wear some sort of device to stop you trying to enter her. That’s why I’ve asked you to wear this corselet. You’ll see that’s it’s impossible to get your little pee-pee out unless you take it right off. It also stops you and me doing anything unconsciously while we sleep. If you are to continue sleeping with Wendy after her period, you’ll both have to wear them."

My heart sank a little but I knew it was for the best. If Wendy got pregnant by me, the scandal would be all around the town. Then I had an idea. I liked my corselet and wondered about wearing it during the day.

"Can I wear this corselet to school? It’s white and nobody could tell under my blouse and chemise. It looks like a deep fitting bra from the waist up."

"You’d have a dickens of a job, going to pee. Who would help you unlace it?"

"Harriet or Wendy. Just like I’d help them."

"How do you know they would like to wear them?"

"I just know. We’ve all got the same tastes. Talking of going to pee. I’ll need your help now."

"So will I darling," grinned Aunty Janet, "come on. Lets go to the bathroom before the others wake up."

I found myself helping Aunty Janet unlace her corselet then she did mine. She bent behind me and undid my laces as her own fulsome breasts occasionally brushed down my spine. I shuddered as my breasts came free, then Aunty Janet’s knowledgeable fingers traced the ripe swell of my breasts. I leaned back so that my head was cradled in her cleavage and she smiled at me in the mirror.

"They’re growing nicely. D’you like them?

"Which ones, yours or mine?" I replied as I half twisted, reached up gently to cup one of her breasts and kissed one of her large nipples.

She squeaked with delight and crimsoned as she spoke.

"Not mine! Yours, you naughty little minx!"
"Mmmm yes! I especially like my nipples. Wendy and I love playing with each other’s.

"Well that will be difficult if your wearing corselets in the future."

"We could wear corselets with ‘peek – a – boo ‘ bras. You know, the ones were our nipples are free."

"Good gracious girl. You’d both look like girls in a brothel. What would people think?"

"Who would see?"

Aunty Janet fell silent as she tugged her corselet down to her knees and sat down to pee. I stood looking in the mirror admiring my free breasts whilst my pee-pee struggled to get hard again in the tight constraints of the panty section of my corselet. Then I stripped off completely for I had to shower after sleeping with my pee-pee trapped in a cum-filled condom all night. After taking my corselet totally off, I sat down to pee and slip the condom down the pan. Then I stood patiently outside the shower waiting for Aunty Janet to finish.

"What are you waiting out there for?" She asked.

"You to finish." I replied respectfully.

"Don’t be silly darling. We’re all girls together in this house. Let’s not waste the hot water."

Curious to see what an adult woman did in the shower I joined her. She immediately handed me a plastic dispenser of gel and asked me to wash her back. Eagerly, I squirted the shower gel into my hands and started to wash down her back. Inevitably, my hands wandered around her sides and she sighed as my little girly fingers brushed against her beautiful large breasts.

"Is that nice?" I asked her shyly as I grazed her nipples and gently cupped them.

"Yes. I suppose Wendy taught you that," she replied.

"We both like it. As you say, we’re all girls together."

Janet laughed then turned to wash me. She was smiling again but this time her smile was genuine. She gently rubbed the shower gel over my body and smoothed me over.

"Your skin is lovely and soft darling."

"So is yours. You must look after it cos there’s no wrinkles."

"Why thank you Rosie. You say the nicest things. Shall I do your body down there?"

"Eh no thanks. I might embarrass both of us."

"Oooh don’t be such a little sissy. I’ve seen one before you know."

I sighed softly and arched my back as I spread my legs obediently. Janet bent over and tenderly soaped my pee-pee until she grew hard again. Once my pee-pee was fully grown, Janet took her in her fingers and studied her.

"She’s a nice shape and size. I can see why Wendy and Harriet are so fond of you."

I was shocked to realise that Aunty Janet knew about Harriet and me. Aunty Janet sensed my body tense and she looked into my eyes with a knowing little smile.

"You didn’t think that your love affair with Harriet was a secret did you?"

"But its just romance!" I protested feebly. "We haven’t done anything naughty. We cant. Harriet’s ahead of Wendy, she’s already got her periods."

"But she does play with you doesn’t she?"

I fell silent but Aunty Janet pushed on.

"There’s no need to be ashamed darling. Aunty Margaret has seen you together in the barn. She knows what Harriet does and how demanding Harriet can be. She knows that Harriet is a ‘bossy boots’ and you’ve been a very good girl not to allow Harriet to take advantage of your condition. We’re very pleased with your behaviour. You’ve become a model lady’s sissy boy. Have you heard the latest?"

"No," I replied.

"Well because her older brother is in prison and will remain so for a long time, Mr Jones has decided to let Harriet Inherit the farm?"

"What! Harriet! No! Is she really?" I gasped with surprise.

"Oh yes. Her older sister Jessica has already decided she wants to try the stage and as for her horrible older brother, well I doubt if he’ll ever get out of jail. Mr Jones has already cut the boy out of his will so Harriet is his last resort to take over the farm. She’s also expressed her wish to do so.

She’s strong willed and determined enough, but you already know that, however, she’ll need a supportive partner. I think you’ll make Harriet a lovely farmer’s wife one day."

I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a farmer’s wife, but if I had to, then the idea of living with Harriet forever enthralled me. I was just so fond of her and my heart ached if ever we were apart for more than a few days. Together with my twin sister Wendy, we three simply did everything together.

"What about Wendy?" I asked.

"Who knows? The teachers tell your mother that you are both good at sciences. Your sister could make a career in veterinary science."

"But I could be a vet as well. I’m better at science than Wendy."

"Oh I don’t think so darling. You shouldn’t have to worry your pretty little head with such notions. Perhaps you should go to finishing school or domestic science college. Or have you ever considered a fashion course at Art College."

I had never considered my future before, and didn’t even recognise the typical ‘put down’ that so many young girls had to endure. My mind was now so conditioned as a sissy that it never occurred to me to protest such assumptions. Anyway, the Idea of a fashion course excited me. Apart from riding our ponies, we three seemed to spend more and more time in town going around the shops looking at clothes. What was more, Wendy and Harriet tended to follow my lead in clothes. My artist’s skills and heavy hormonal dosages gave me a sharp eye for fashion and colour. The other advantage was that we were all the same size so we could interchange clothes to create different effects. Indeed, Wendy and I shared the same wardrobe of clothes except for panties. Sometimes we did not realise we had each other’s blazers or gymslips on until we changed for gym and re-read the nametags.

Thus it went on until we reached the third form. Wendy and Harriet then continued studying sciences whilst I chose art and languages.


Authors note.

It may surprise our transatlantic cousins but in the 1940’s, 50’s and 60’s, British Grammar School academic standards were second to none. Children actually chose their career routes on entry into the third form of grammar school. This was at the tender age of thirteen to fourteen.

By the time they had reached 17 to 18 and passed ‘A’ levels; their specialised educational standards were extremely high.

A child, who had passed ‘A’ level Physics, Chemistry, and Biology at 17 to 18, did not need to do a ‘pre-science’ course to enter medical school. It meant that the six-year course to train and qualify as a doctor could be completed by age 22 to 23. In most other professional careers an individual was academically qualified by the age of 20 to 21.

Compare that with today’s academic standards!


Thus from the age of seventeen, I only saw my sister and Harriet at school during breaks and travelling on the school bus. Oh, and we still shared gym classes.

We also shared our other hobby, namely competing in horse shows. Our riding skills had become excellent and Harriet particularly, had reached a high competitive level.

It was this hobby that was to make my nickname so appropriate and lead me deeper into the world of sissies.

By the time I was sixteen I was a woman in all but fact. Only my immediate acquaintances knew of my true nature and by this age, only my girlfriend Harriet was intimately involved with me.

Fortunately, equestrian activities are one of the few sports were men and women compete equally and there are no barriers or sex tests. We all three competed regularly at county shows and Harriet went even further. This meant we had to practice regularly and it was during these practice jumps that I had my terrible accident.


Sissy Girl Stories