Sissy School Story
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Sissy School Story
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Take your sissy training to the next level with one of our highly personalized sissy programs and training sessions, listed below. Feel free to reach out via our Live Help Desk or directly with the Mistress you’d like to work with. We’d love to get started creating a sissy training/feminization program to take you to the next level.
Sissy Circuit Training – Advanced Sissy School Training – Feminization Training – Personalized Sissy Training
We are now offering ongoing training for those who wish to embark on an in-depth feminization journey! One session is hardly enough to feel more feminine. Therefore, if you are dedicated to becoming a proper sissy or yearn to be properly feminized, this advanced Sissy School training is for you!
Pass the Sissy – Call into the Sissy School Training Mistress Line at 800-730-3507 and let the Dispatcher know you’d like to play Pass the Sissy . You may tell her a budget to stay within or a length of time you’d like to play. She will plan your Pass the Sissy itinerary accordingly.
Finally, you will be passed from Sissy Mistress to Sissy Mistress and serve as her plaything. Furthermore, like all of our sissy programs, we can tweak each Pass the Sissy session to meet your unique needs.
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My name is Raul, I am from India. Since an early age I had a ...
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Since my preteen years and into my teens, I knew there was something not right. I seemed to be not like other boys, small-boned, petite and a little fragile, for a boy.
Bullied yes, by some, but I let it go over my head, as thinking, what mom always told me, ” the more you take notice, the worse they be. ”
Then the support teacher arrived for the summer, prior to the summer term ending, in primary. I were now in my last year, before moving, into the secondary school, with others in my class.
Miss Williams, introduced herself and each one gave our name. Well there were eleven boys and nine girls, two boys sat together, while the remainder sat with a girl.
Now, Miss Williams would like all girls together in a row of desks and all boys together in a row of desks, but that could not work out even, so Miss asked all the boys, who would volunteer to sit with the girls.
Miss Williams: “Come on , or I will have to choose one boy myself, and I rather not do that.”
So I sat in the back, and as each boy were reluctant to volunteer, I put my hand up.
Miss Williams: Yes, Graham it is, her confirming.
Miss Williams: Good for you. Now boys, Graham, has saved one of you going to the girls side, so any boy here now makes fun, will change places with him, is that clear.”
Yes Miss Williams echoed around the room. So it were done, boys and girls all in a row each. I sat by Patricia and she welcomed me with a warm smile, as she were a nice girl.
We sat at the back, and as Miss added, I sat toward the boy side, so I was not away from them.
Patricia, asked, do you wish me to sit here?
No it’s alright thank you Patricia.
Yes, I understand her smiling, you wish really to be with the boys.
No, on the contrary, I like being with the girls.
Then she seemed surprised, at that answer.
We got on great together through term, questions and answers on a Friday afternoon, before home time.
Girls against Boys, some weeks they won, but mostly us girls, as I considered myself a girl now. That were confirmed each time, as the winner of the competition, got to walk out first for home time.
Well the first time we girls won, all girls stood and Miss Williams, looked at me, come on Graham, stand up, you are with the girls now.
I stood and all us girls walked out, before the boys. I told my mom of our winning more than the boys, and explained to her, why I were with the girls, from when Miss Williams arrived.
Well if you’re happy my son, so be it, or should I address you now my daughter?
Oh mom please, stop teasing me, but mom knew, by her feminine intuition that I were more a happier person now at school.
Mom enlightening my sisters who were already in the secondary school, did tease me, for awhile, but really proud of me, by volunteering that first day.
Sunday school, and only I turned up that Sunday, in the boy’s class, so I sat there waiting for my teacher, but she also were absent, so I began to walk out, to go home.
Where are you going boy, came Miss Powell’s voice, from the girl’s class?
Well come here as she took me by the wrist, to her class of girls, who were all wearing a pretty summer frock. All sat in a circle with myself directly opposite Miss Powell.
Now we all had to read a chapter, from the book that lesson from the Bible that day. When it came to my turn, as we read going around, four girls on my left and four girls on my right, me “piggy-in-the-middle.”
I felt all eyes on me, with me wearing short trousers, my legs exposed.
Very good girls, came Miss Powell, after the last girl read. Then class bell rang for home time, so girls and I, placed our bible on the chair we had sat and walked in line, but Miss Powell, stopped me and took me one side.
Well Graham, have you enjoyed today and learned something?
Yes Miss Powell, and I liked the story in the Bible.
Were you a little embarrassed, sat with the girls, her now looking deep in to my eyes?
why not, her continuing to ask questions.
Well Miss, as I explained to her, about me sat with the girls in day school.
So you like sitting with the girls, is that it?
Yes Miss. Well, would you like to sit with us each Sunday?
Miss, maybe Mr. James and boys be here next Sunday.
That is no problem Graham, I shall speak to Mr. James, over the phone this week sweetie.
Myself I don’t think any of the boys will return, as they seem to be too old or too big now for Sunday school, so you be with us, the girl’s class.
Yes Miss, I really would. I sat with the girls, until I began to go to church and even sat with the girls in the girl’s side of the choir, with my falsetto voice singing, like a girl, as we all wore the same gown in choir.
With my golden blonde hair, azure blue eyes, and fair complexion, many in the congregation, thought I were a girl, which made me proud.
Later-on in the year, one evening when mom were ironing, I asked her, if I had been born a girl would you love me more?
Mom looked at me, with intrigued by the question. My boy, as long as you were a healthy baby, I not care, if you were a boy or girl.
What name would you have given me mom, if I were a girl?
Before mom could answer, I said, I like Jane mom.
Mom, again looking at me, well my son, I like Susan, so Susan-Jane, you be from now on at home. Would you like that sweetie?
Yes mom, I would love it. That night when saying my prayers, kneeling at my bedside, I asked my Lord, God, to please let me be a girl, when I awoke in the morning.
Mom, I had not realized she were stood at my bedroom door, and over heard my whispers.
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