And sissy treats

The next morning, Jesse woke up in Betsy’s bed, wrapped up in the girl’s protective embrace. He felt warm, and safe, and strangely well rested. A perpetually light sleeper, the sissy was used to waking up somewhere near a thousand times a night: needing to creep through the corridors in his nightie to the communal toilets, or just lie staring at the ceiling in a cloud of swirling thoughts until his roommate’s snores lulled him back to the respite of oblivion. Alone, in his own bed, he would often shrivel into the next morning in a ball of unreleased tension. As if he’d spent every dream sprinting between shadows and squeezing into cracks too small for even his slight frame to hide in. No such aches and creaks came from his bones today though… leaving the idea that perhaps there had been more to Cynthia’s massage than just her own gain, after all. He got up and dressed, admiring the cut of his slim figure in the tall mirror of their shared wardrobe.

Somewhere along the line… he had got used to seeing himself in the smart-but-skimpy lines of his new school uniform. The amount of his smooth, pale flesh on display hardly even registered. Nor the absence of any underwear, pre-worn or otherwise. He stood on his tall, blocky heels with fairly practiced ease, even trying out a few of the ‘resting poses’ Ms Durian had suggested he learn to make a habit of… ‘to subtly show off what you’ve got’. It seemed a little corny to be told how he even had to stand around doing nothing, in order to be more pleasing upon his future master’s eyes. But then he remembered just how pristine and graceful every movement the seniors who had welcomed them into the school made was, and couldn’t help but dream of having such eye-dragging poise. Would the school begin handing out thinner and more dainty heels soon, now that most of the class had got used to these ones? The sissy couldn’t help but feel he was wearing the equivalent of training-wheels currently, and had a sudden urge to prove he could do better. He carefully applied some lipstick, foundation and eyeliner… trying his best to meet the standard that Betsy seemed to so-easily achieve. Most of the hickeys and bite-marks that weren’t hidden by his blouse and skirt had faded actually, except for one or two large ones on his inner thighs and neck. He couldn’t do much about his thighs, but found a thin silk scarf that Betsy had bought him once. Wrapping it around his neck and matching it with the colour of his knee-socks and hairbands today made him feel like he was making the outfit his own at least a little bit, not just what he was **** to wear. The lauded beauty of a boy had never really seen what everyone else seemed to make such a fuss about in his looks… but today he felt tentatively good about his outward appearance.

Stepping onto the Maglev after breakfast, the sun was still shining upon this last day of his first week in specialised education. He even managed to find a space for his bare little ass to plonk itself without any requirement that he balance precariously upon the knee and inevitable erection of a stranger. So pleased was the sissy with how the day was shaping up that he even offered that same seat over when a wrinkled old lady clambered wearily on at the next stop. She smiled and thanked him dearly, settling down with a glint in her eye while he hung on to the silver pole nearby. To be honest, Jesse was rather amazed by the sight of her himself. It was rare to actually see someone who looked old these days, being as there were some centenarians these days who could still appear twenty if they felt like it. Those who were actually beyond the reach of the algorithm’s help tended to not be in any state to walk around either.

“That was very kind of you dear…” A voice like crackling autumn leaves told him. “But, I recognise that uniform… isn’t there something else you’re supposed to say to me?”

She smiled up at him in a particularly encouraging and unthreatening way, making Jesse blush just with the embarrassment that he hadn’t even considered she should count among ‘everyone’ in the rules he was supposed to follow.

“Oh, ermm… yes! Sorry… Hello Ma’am, my name is Jesse. May I service you?”

The aged creature’s face cracked even wider at the lilting, stumbling tones of the polite, little sissy. She pulled out a flexitab from her large and jangling handbag and began pawing at it with just a hint of inexperienced confusion.