Lady Sweetness Academy

Chapter 1 Edward Faintley Is Enrolled at The Lady Sweetness Academy

"Miss Crush, Mrs Faintley is here for her appointment with you. She has her son, Edward, with her - in his pale yellow coat." The Principal's blond secretary looked no older than the boy himself as he lowered his chin into the blouse silk that peeped above his coat collar, but his blushes showed how impossible it was to escape the girl's smirking grin.
"Is he properly attired to enter my office?" came the sharp voice over the intercom. "Or is he wearing male trousers?" The girl craned over her desk without rising from her chair.
"I'd say he's wearing his mother's pants, ma'am. They look like dark polyester. Definitely silky." There was a pause, in which Mrs Faintley justified her choice of pants.
"Yes, I've got him in my pants, and one of my blouses, for his visit. With stockings and suspenders, bra and pants, as the school suggested in the documentation."
The secretary played a glossy pink fingernail along her shining lower lip, watching the boy's face go crimson and crumple close to tears. An 18-year-old college student, dressed by his mother from her own closet and drawers. Things had certainly changed since Miss Crush took over as Principal of Ravencroft College - now renamed the Lady Sweetness Academy.
The harsh voice burst out again. "Show them in, Miss Crisp. I'll see for myself."
The mother looked less than pleased, sensing criticism of her choice of clothing for her son on what she hoped would be his enrolment day at his new college. As for Edward Faintley, he would have turned and run if he had that much initiative about him. Instead he found the sleeve of his mother's coat grasped by Miss Crisp in both hands to march him towards the large door at one end of the oak-panelled foyer. A brass plaque proclaimed: Miss Dorothea Crush, Academy Principal. The girl knocked, bringing a "Come" from beyond, and she opened it to lead him and his mother inside.
He was hit in the nostrils as if engulfed in a fog of heady perfume. This was a place for women, and the huge bouquet of flowers on the desk-top added to the impression he had of being in an overwhelming, female situation. The boy had no time to adjust to his situation, for he was cornered near the door by a woman of impressive proportions. Her hair made a huge impression on him, built high as if in a blond sculpture, and a richly bloused bosom that frothed at him in white satin. "Hold him there," came the authoritarian voice they had heard in the foyer, slightly darker and colder now that its owner was inches away from his face. His coat was unbuttoned by voluminous blouse sleeves and spread wide, and Principal Crush revealed the trousers his mother had got him in. Her perfume was intoxicating and all the stronger for being in front of his face. He struggled to bring his hands forward and smother his sneeze, but she held his coat open with his arms out of commission. He tried to confine it to a snort in his nose as she pronounced on his trousers.
"No. Not good enough - he is not wearing those in my office." She sensed what could have been a tut from the boy's mother. "I have a clear rule, Mrs Faintley," she said, attacking the waist fastening of the trousers. "There is no room for male trousers in my office," she said, addressing her remark to the mother. "Lady Sweetness will pride itself, very shortly, in presenting the reality of female superiority. I thought you held that notion very dear?"

When put like this, the boy's mother raised her brows in agreement.
"Miss Crisp, call Miss Staunch to my office. She can change him while I arrange for his enrolment."
Edward Faintley blanched as his trousers came undone and fell down his knees to the floor. His mother's stockings and white panties, with lace at the legs, were revealed. It sounded like some woman was going to change his clothes, but his mother found consolation in the Principal's words.
"Miss Crush," she said, watching as her son was divested of her coat, "do you mean that you will accept my Edward into the Lady Sweetness Academy?"
The Principal was turning him in strong fingers glittering with rings. "I see a soppy weakling, the sort of material my girls can practise on. He'll do." She stood upright, and Miss Crush's bosoms were seen to support the most voluminous jabot the boy had ever seen, cupping her rounded face on either side of her chin and blossoming right down to the deep belt of black vinyl at her statuesque waist. Her hips were housed in a black satin pencil skirt that seemed to fasten her knees together above her towering black patent heels. A gaunt woman of perhaps 40 joined them, with short, dark, permed hair, her neat costume as black and as near to the opposite of the Principal's flamboyance as possible.
"This boy needs to be put into suitable pants, Miss Staunch. He will be inducted later this morning."
It seemed to Edward Faintley that he was regarded as a prisoner in this place, for as with the secretary, the Deputy Principal seized him by the arm and marched him to the door and bundled him through. It happened so quickly that the boy's mother found herself holding his coat, alone with Miss Crush, who half turned her head and granted the visitor not a smile but a lift of the eyebrows.
"This is the superiority of women," she said. "The New Order, rather like a vacuum cleaner which has swept your unfortunate son into it as one of the victims that girls need while they are learning to bring out their desire for control, like blossoms that burst into flower. Thank you, Mrs Faintley for bringing him to us. You will receive your reward in a boy suitably cowed and weakened."
***

"Girls, I have called you to my office for reasons that are crucial to the new direction Lady Sweetness is to move in." Miss Crush sat back in her large swivel chair behind the expanse of her desk, the frills at her throat vibrating in the draught of the desk fan turned in her direction. "As you know, I intend to add force to the general impulse I have injected into our college - the ever increasing power of females."
Octavia Marx, the Head girl, and her deputy, Annabelle Smart, enjoyed a frisson of pleasure at her words. So they were to take an active hand in these developments they had been told about in Monday's assembly, the first since they had gathered at college again after their summer vacation. Octavia was 19, the oldest girl out of both years in school, with blond hair to her waist, strong cheek bones and luxurious lips offsetting classic good looks. She knew that the white blouses and green skirts, ties and jumpers of Ravencroft College suited her hair and looks perfectly, as the reactions of the boys told her every day. She felt herself grow an extra ten centimetres on the spot, while Annabelle sitting at her elbow, with long dark hair and rounded, almost rosy looks, swelled her breasts from side to side in her white school blouse and wondered what roles Miss Crush would allot to them as leaders and spokespersons of the college students. The Principal went on.
"First and foremost, I will reduce the number of boys at Lady Sweetness. I need you to do that for me."
This changed things in a flash. Both girls had favourites - guys they secretly adored and liked to have around. "Miss Crush," said Octavia, sensing an approaching disaster, "please choose which boys to - to - to ditch, carefully." There were only 20 boys in total in college, and any cull would run the risk of getting rid of some of the best. "Not Dan King, for instance - or Dave Manning - or Jez Rudwell. They're - " She avoided the word "fit", although the pinch of Miss Crush's lips told her she knew it was what came next.
"No," said Annabelle, sensing the Principal was onto them but getting her word in anyway. "We could get rid of Ashleigh Soames and Farley Grant. And Frances Bunton. Those three are wet. No credit to your school at all."
Miss Crush listened, then lifted her nose. "Go away, girls, and make a list of all the boys who are wet. Bring it to me in twenty minutes as a starting point." A minute later the girls were reclined in the settee corner of the prefects' common room, with Octavia taking notes.
"She must be going to get rid of ten of them," she said, half fuming at the very idea. "Having boys around is so useful."
"Too right," said Julianna Forbes. "Admirers, useful for "playing off against each other, useful as butts for our jokes and general fodder."
"Definitely start with Soames," put in Meredith Cowes. "It's a pity we'll lose him, mind. I love getting hold of him with my hand gripping him round the back of that girlish neck of his and pulling his face into the front of my blouse while I knuckle his blond scalp."
The others chuckled. It was something they all enjoyed doing.
"We've got to have Soames in the wet list, and Bunton the Wimp." Annabelle's face grimaced at the thought of them. "But we need another seven names. Come on, girls: any cruds you want to get rid of." The four of them soon had the boys divided into two halves, the useful half and the others: the drips they wanted out of their lives asap. Octavia and Annabelle were soon sitting opposite Miss Crush across her desk, their list of ten wetlings in the Principal's hand. Her secretary was at her shoulder.
"Clarify this for me, Octavia," the Principal said; "it is the top three names which are the wettest boys in the school?"
"Oh my God, yes, ma'am, they are wet."
"If you had them here in front of you, Miss Crush," put in Annabelle, "you'd see what we mean."
The Principal used a pen to make a box round the three names at the top. "Thank you girls," she said, her face almost reaching a smile. "That reduces what could have taken a while into half an hour of calls. Miss Crisp," and she handed over the list, "we keep these three boys. Call home for the rest of them and inform the parent or parents of each of them that they are no longer a student at the Lady Sweetness Academy."
The girls' faces could have started a thunderstorm as the door closed behind the secretary.
Their apple cart was decidedly bottom-side up, but what could they say. Miss Crush looked at them with her head tilted with assurance and her blouse sleeves spread on her chair arms, displaying the authority of her bosom. "The female is superior," she declared, her head almost quivering with fact, "but we know that. We need to remind ourselves every day of the converse: the male is inferior. It is your three wettest boys who will remind us of that as day follows humiliating day for them in our midst."
She paused, looking self-satisfied, then swivelled to open a drawer beneath her desk, and brought out a folded garment in pastel pink satin, which she laid on her desk top. From the floor beside her chair, she lifted a stand comprising a single upright stem standing on a base, topped with a hook. The girls watched, both of them seething that their lives in school were to be deprived of boys, except for useless pricks who weren't even worth peeing on. Miss Crush had a coat-hanger, and as she lifted her satin, it slithered out into its full shape and fitted over the hanger. She hooked it into place where it faced them from the end of her desk.
It was a blouse, clearly for a young girl, flaring simply from the hanger to a depth of maybe forty centimetres, with little puffed sleeves and a cuff at the neck topped with a little frill. Why on earth she had taken it out, or displayed it on her desk, wasn't easy to see. Octavia's heart was beginning to pound with annoyance behind her green school tie. She wasn't the sort that could see things turning to her disadvantage without getting in there and damn well turning them back again. Miss Crush was obviously not saying anything while she fussed with this silly blouse so as to give the two of them the chance to speak.
"Okay, ma'am, so you're getting rid of boys, but what about the value and usefulness they bring to the school? Apart from the fact that a few of them are hunks and do the girls a lot of good having them around." She would have gone on but her pulse was racing, making it hard to find the words. Luckily Annabelle pitched in to prevent the Principal from getting thinking time.
"Isn't this throwing the baby out with the bath water, Miss Crush? I mean, I really fancied Dave Manning. And now he'll have to go to another college. I wish I was going with him."
"And with only three boys left - three awful weeds," wondered Octavia, "what kind of school is Lady Sweetness going to be?"
Now the Principal had something to think about, but she didn't seem phased. She sat there in her blouse again, her earrings glittering beneath both cheeks, and coolly pressed her intercom. "Bring him in, Miss Staunch," she said, and sat back, her nose raised but her scarlet lips giving no hint of a smile.
The girls turned as the door to one side opened and into the office stepped Edward Faintley, pushed from behind by the Deputy Principal. His face grimaced with shame on seeing the two girls as well as the Principal and he tried to turn and retreat, except that Miss Staunch seized him and turned him again to face the way he was going. It was clear to everyone that he realized his shame would only increase if he got himself into a tangle with this middle-aged schoolteacher and he found himself made to stand in the middle where everyone could get the best view of him.
He had been changed out of his mother's blouse and dressed instead in clothes which made his lips tremble as he felt the eyes of everyone on him. He was in another blouse, this time in white satin, with long sleeves that buttoned halfway down each forearm, failing to reach his wrists. His eyes closed with anguish as he caught a glimpse of Annabelle, open-mouthed as she took him in. No doubt she was scrutinising the full circle sissy collar that lay across his shoulders, overlaid with lacework and with a neat little trim of white lace all round the edge. Worse, he knew they could see him in the new pants he had been dressed in. They were the same green as he saw in the girls' skirts, but were in glossy satin, and reached only part way down his thighs, so that it was obvious that he was wearing his mother's stockings. And down the front of his shorts ran a line of six buttons - white pearl buttons - the final one right under where his testes were shaped in a double bulb of satin between his legs. He squeezed his knees together in a swell of shame and crossed his hands to cover his pearl buttons, but Miss Staunch grabbed his blouse sleeves and held his hands at his sides, standing him still for Miss Crush's inspection. The boy's hair had been combed into a parting on his right, so that a quiff of blond hair almost covered his left eye, and now fell over his face as he bowed his head and started to shake as he began sobbing.
"Stop that noise!" demanded Miss Staunch at his ear, "and stand still for the girls to look at you." Her voice stifled him at once and his sobs turned into the occasional gasp of misery as he looked at his high heels and his stockings that worked together with a sizzle of nylon. "This is Edward Faintley," announced the Principal. "There will be four boys at Lady Sweetness, not three. And even though they will all wear the same uniforms, as you see, they will each be treated quite differently." She pursed her lips with pleasure at the prospect. "Let go of him, Miss Staunch. Would you kindly bring his chair for him, to sit where we can see him."
The boy seemed all the more pitiable as he stood isolated. What would these girls think? He tried to shake his hair back but it fell forward as soon as his head drooped again. Both Octavia and Annabelle felt the wish to move their legs away from him, he made such a picture of unsexed sissiness. Miss Staunch had a chair for him, which she placed in the middle opposite the Principal. It was in moulded and hollowed plastic, in pearled pink, but with a white upholstered seat and arms. "Sit here," she ordered the boy, who still stood with his arms where she had put them, and he kept them there as he bent at the knees and lowered his bottom onto the seat.
"Please can I go home?" he begged, his voice almost a squeak.
"Don't be ridiculous!" said Miss Staunch behind him as she pulled his shoulders to slide him further back on his shorts.
"Your mother has just signed you into your new school," said Miss Crush, her nose in the air as she and the girls watched him being controlled by her deputy.
"Put your arm on the arm-rest," he was told. Edward Faintley was learning to obey, and a thin strap of pink leather five centimetres wide was wrapped over his wrist and fastened through a buckle. His other hand was seized and fastened down in the same way. The chair seat reached forward in a curve, so that his legs found themselves separated to either side. Miss Staunch took another strap from inside one of his legs and pulled it over his thigh, buckling it to the edge of his seat. His heart was in his throat as she did the same across his other leg, and he sat with his legs apart. She pulled the hems of his shorts out to release them.
"Shall I open him out?" she said, looking up at the Principal.
"Please do. We need to see him feeling soft and feeble for us."
The boy's gasp became a cry of fright as Miss Staunch's fingers set to work on his pearl buttons from his waist downwards. His shorts were opened from top to bottom, to the astonishment of the girls, especially when the mistress stood back to reveal how he sat. The boy was wearing nothing under his satin pants, which lay opened between his legs so that his cock and testicles were revealed to their gaze. Miss Crush left her place and came round to half-sit on the front edge of her desk, her knees between the opened legs of her new pupil. "Draw your chairs closer, girls," she said. "Let's take a good look at one of our - 'boys', shall we?" She added an edge of contempt to the word, and waited for Octavia and Annabelle to settle with their chairs gathered and their stockinged knees practically touching the outspread legs of their specimen.
"Now girls," and she became confidential, "I believe you have been looking at boys the wrong way. How wonderful they can be. How attractive, and all that nonsense." She reached forward with one hand, bringing a flinch from Edward Faintley, and took his flaccid penis in her fingers. "Take a good look at this feeble, effeminate little wimp, sitting in his chair for us in his nice boys' uniform, with its silky sleeves, its nice wide sissy collar all patterned in lace, and his baby boy shorts opened wide for us to laugh at his sissy little bits and pieces here. Isn't he pathetic? Isn't he sweet? Hmm?" She turned to Octavia, then to Annabelle. "Girls, can I invite you to think of this as what boys are truly like?"
The Head Girl had her cheeks sucked in as she pondered the definite attractiveness of seeing a boy reduced to this condition. She barely noticed how short her breaths had become, or how her panties were warm in their dampness. Annabelle too took a deep breath, her heart fluttering, looking from the misery of his face on the brink of bursting into tears to the way Miss Crush's fingers were fiddling with his cock, and how available it was now that he was fastened into a chair, with his shorts opened up for them to watch.
"Can I hold him there?" It was Octavia who thought of it first.
"Of course you can, my dear. You are Head Girl, and he is one of our pupils."
Octavia's tie fell forward onto his cock as Miss Crush's fingers made way for her hand. His cock was warm, and trembling, and - yes, it was becoming harder. Lengthening a bit as she breathed on it. She was interrupted in her feelings by whimpered bleating from the boy himself.
"Oh please let me go home. Please."
Octavia knew instinctively what to say. "Shut up. I'm holding your sissy little cock. We're all looking at it for as long as we want to, because you're a weakling and a sissy."
Annabelle leapt to the assistance of her friend, and drew her chair even closer, then took the edges of his huge blouse collar. "Yeah," she said, lifting it all round with both hands. "You're a sissy in a sissy blouse, and that means we can enjoy making you squirm and squeal while we play with your cock and your uniform."
Miss Crush resisted the urge to smile as she sat upright above her girls. She reached across and lifted the blouse hanger with its pink blouse from its hook. "I can see that you both understand me perfectly," she said. "The function of girls is to tease and control, and the position of the four boys at Lady Sweetness will be to suffer and blush under the power of all the girls we have. How does that idea appeal to you?"
Both girls leaned back, although Octavia kept hold of his cock now that it was stiffening nicely. Annabelle lifted her brows in admission. "I suppose it's nice having a sissy under your thumb. I mean, having him where you can have a good play with him. That should be a laugh." Miss Crush acknowledged her thoughts with a gracious bow, and turned to Octavia.
"I like it. I'm liking playing with this little weed," said the girl. "So he's coming to join us at Lady Sweetness, is he, ma'am?"
"He is." Miss Crush almost smiled down on him. "Shall we put him into his pretty-blouse?"
The girls brightened at the idea and moved back for Miss Staunch to undo the boy's wrists.
Miss Crush passed the blouse to Annabelle, who gave the hanger back to her and opened out the blouse. It would button down the back, once again in pearled buttons, this time in pink.
"It goes over his white blouse," said Miss Staunch, holding him in both hands then presenting his hands to the blouse for Annabelle to slip it up his arms.
As pink satin gathered in front of him, the boy burst into open weeping. Perhaps it was with girls dressing him, or because he was a lone male surrounded by females, but he had no control over the loud wails and the blubbers that shook through him as the puffed blouse sleeves slid up the sleeves of his white blouse, to be fastened with a little pearl button near the top of each arm. The blouse was short, but big enough to slide loosely round him as Octavia pulled it together behind his neck and fastened the first of the little blouse buttons.
"Isn't he a sissy, being dressed in a pink blouse over his white blouse?" she teased, fastening the next button down while Annabelle helped by flaring the bottom edges of the blouse with both hands.
"I think he's crying because he's really a little girl in pretty blouses," she said. "Let me see how sweet he looks if we bring his nice big sissy collar out here, like this, all round his face."
As Octavia finished his buttons, her friend had his wide collar out on all sides, fussing the neck of both blouses and spreading the lace covered collar so that it floated a little above the pink shoulders of his new blouse. His crying grew louder, making the girls' grins grow wider as they played with his blouses. It was Annabelle this time who seized his stiffened cock.
"The girls will want to play with your sissy little bit down here, Edward sweetie," she said. "Little boys in their sissy school uniform will have to have their pants opened, won't they, Miss Crush?"
"That's right," agreed the Head. "If you so desire."
"Well this sissy is getting excited about his school uniform and his pretty-blouse," went on the deputy head girl. "How long am I allowed to hold his little thing?"
"For as long as you wish. Girls at Lady Sweetness have power over the boys at Lady Sweetness. So please yourself, Annabelle."
Octavia was helping Miss Staunch to refasten the boy's hands onto the arms of his chair now that he sat in two shiny blouses and looked pathetic. "I can see us dressing Soames like this, Annabelle, can't you?" she said.
"And Grant and Bunton,"replied her friend as she pulled and squeezed on the ever thickening cock in her fingers. "When can we start putting them into their uniforms, ma'am?"
This time Miss Crush did manage a smile. "Today, girls, but you will all have to take your boys in turn. You can't all be dressing and teaching all of them all of the time." She passed a pair of ladies' panties to Annabelle, which must have been her own from the size of them. Octavia took them and opened them out, so as to fold them into a flat pad of lilac silk and give them to her friend. "And will they all have a pink chair we can strap them into?" she asked over the outright crying.
The Principal nodded and smiled again. "And more besides. Don't worry, each of the boys will be completely under your control."
Edward Faintley's crying faltered slightly, then became staggered as he arched his back so as to push his opened satin shorts into Annabelle's panty fondling. He blubbered, aware that his blouse collar was being prettied by Octavia and Miss Staunch as they watched him approach his shameful surrender. Then the Head Girl held his face in her hands and combed his hair back from his eyes with her fingers, so they could watch his face. Miss Crush looked down on him as well, all three of them grinning, as his cries became more rhythmical, and the females knew they had complete control over this boy as his hips pushed in rhythm and they made him spend and spend his admission of sissiness into Miss Crush's panties.

***

In the second chapter of The Lady Sweetness Academy, the girls persuade Miss Crush to give them new power-dressing school uniforms, so that they can work more effectively with their sissy boys.

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