We were now in mid-summer and, against all odds, the weather in England was hot and dry. There was no air-conditioning in the flat so it could get stuffy. So much so, that I had voluntarily chosen to wear one of my sundresses at home, as it was cooler than being stuck in leggings and jeans.

Me embracing a dress had thrilled Laura, who had responded by buying me a couple of miniskirts and some new tops. She had also made it clear that if I was to wear skirts and dresses at home, then I needed the make-up to go with them. The bloke in a dress appearance did not appeal to her. She had even started giving me lessons in applying make-up so as to save herself the job. I couldn't do it as well as she could, but she seemed happy with the result and made encouraging remarks.

Female scents had replaced my male aftershave and deodorant. Nail varnish, both toes and fingers, had become permanent features, inside and outside the flat. Painted toenails had preceded fingernails, but it was only a short time before all my nails were painted. The only concession was that I was allowed more subdued colours on my fingers, so as to draw less attention to myself. Amy, obviously, was highly amused by this and James had clearly noticed, but kept his thoughts to himself.

Laura was always pushing at my boundaries. Invariably, I put up some resistance, but winning a discussion with Laura was next to impossible. Despite my fears, I usually came to accept and even enjoy the new limits that Laura had imposed. I was in a continual state of sexual frustration, driven largely by being locked in a chastity device but fueled in part by Laura's outstanding beauty and by being turned on by her demands, especially in terms of my increasing feminisation.

Amy also liked to push me out of my comfort zone but had come to accept that she was only the “deputy leader” of my FLR. With that being said, she did still have influence, as I was about to discover.

oooOOooo

It was Friday evening when my conversation with Laura took a concerning turn. “It's going to be very hot tomorrow, sweetie,” she remarked, innocently.

“Yes, I saw the forecast, Miss,” I replied.

“It'll be boiling in the flat, so we should go for a walk and a pub lunch, don't you think?”

“Won't we be hot if we're walking?” I asked, suspecting a trap was being laid.

“Not if we're dressed appropriately, muffin. You know, with bare legs and shoulders.”

Yes! There was a trap! “You... you don't mean...? You do, don't you?”

Her smile confirmed what I thought. “Yes, sweetheart. You can have your first outing as a girl.”

“No!” I replied, with as much force as I thought I could get away with. “I can't do that! No!”

“Yes, you can. When you're made up, you easily pass as a girl. And you won't need to talk to anyone.”

“What? Not the barman at the pub?”

“No, no one. Well, no one except me and Amy, that is.”

“Amy!! You... you didn't say Amy was coming.”

“Yes, I did. Just a moment ago. It was her idea, so we can hardly go without her. Imagine how hurt she would be if we excluded her, sweetie. It would be unkind of us, and she is a good friend.”

I was being stitched up like a kipper and hurting Amy's feelings was the least of my concerns.

Laura could tell I was procrastinating. “Just trust me, poppet. When have I ever embarrassed you?” I felt it was safest not to answer that question.

“I can't pass as a girl, Miss. I don't walk like one.”

“You can practice. Just wiggle your bum a little—not too much—and take shorter steps. You'll be fine. And I'll do your make-up so it's top notch. Amy and I will be either side of you, shielding you, if you want to think of it like that.”

“Er...”

“Do you want some quiet time to deliberate, muffin?” she asked, which I interpreted as meaning did I wish to spend thirty minutes standing in the corner before coming around to her idea.

Nothing I said was going to change her mind. There was no option other than for me to go along with her latest game and trust that my humiliation was kept to a minimum. “No, Miss. We'll do what you say and go for a walk tomorrow.” I smiled nervously at her, and she smiled sweetly back, magnanimous in victory.

oooOOooo

I had a troubled night. The thought of going on my first public outing dressed completely en femme both terrified and excited me. Consequently, I was awake early and was able to get on with some quiet chores before Laura joined me.

We breakfasted together and then she instructed me to go into the bedroom and strip down to my undies. Very soon, I was standing there in just my black bra and matching panties.

I was expecting her to pass me one of my sundresses, but, to my surprise, she had selected some of my new clothes. First there was a pale blue miniskirt which finished midthigh and was a tight fit around my legs. “This will help you take shorter steps, sweetie,” she announced, in a positive tone of voice.

Then came a white cotton vest top which I had not seen before. It was also close-fitting and, at least in my opinion, was too skimpy and too short. There was a gap of bare skin between the top of my skirt and the bottom of the top. Moreover, it clung close to my chest, accentuating my false boobs. And, possibly worst of all, it had a racer back, meaning that it was impossible to cover my bra straps.

I stared at her, unsure what to say, but hoping that my expression would convey my concerns. She read them, and, with a smile, tried to reassure me. “I'll be dressed very similarly, muffin, as will Amy... sorry, Miss Amy. You won't stand out!”

Won't stand out?! My expression must have taken a turn for the worse as she was forced to remind me that she had still to work her magic with nails, make-up and wig.

An hour or so later I was transformed. I was still extraordinarily nervous at what awaited me, but I had to agree that she had achieved another miracle and I looked like a girl. Yes, I was a little taller than her and Amy, but it was just possible I might get away with it.

Laura told me to sit quietly on the bed while she got herself ready. “It'll take your mind off things,” she explained.

She was right. I was able to watch her get undressed and then redressed, before applying her make-up. My brain switched from thinking about the forthcoming walk to thinking about her phenomenal prettiness. Needless to say, my penis was soon throbbing as she flaunted herself in front of me naked or half-dressed. I was thankful that, as yet, Laura had not taken the plunge to buy me a smaller chastity cage. At least the one I was wearing had a little room for expansion, for which I was grateful.

Laura took less time to get herself ready than she had spent on me, but the outcome was stunning. And, as she had said, she was dressed similarly to me, not that this was much comfort.

oooOOooo

At around 11 AM, we left the flat and I drove us around to Amy's to pick her up. She was waiting by the kerbside, and clambered into the back of my car, wishing us both a good morning. As Laura had predicted, Amy was attired in much the same way as she and I were.

The plan was to drive to a country pub, leave the car in the carpark and then go for a walk before returning to the hostelry for lunch. As the pub doesn't open until noon, I was thankful to find that it was quiet when we arrived and there was no one to look at me as I attempted to extricate myself from the car in my tight skirt.

The two girls seemed to have no trouble doing what was challenging for me. I put that down to them being more experienced, but it meant that both were standing alongside the driver's door as I struggled out. Amy was highly amused by my antics, especially my unsuccessful attempts to avoid displaying my panties.

oooOOooo

We set off on our walk, using public footpaths. Laura and Amy positioned themselves either side of me, at times even looping their arms inside mine. Perhaps they were protecting me, but, equally likely, they were ensuring I didn't run off.

It was a circular route that we took, Laura telling us it would take around an hour to complete. I was dreading that we might meet other walkers coming towards us, but Laura assured me that most people took the clockwise route, as we were doing.

All was going well. We had encountered no one coming in the opposite direction, and no one had caught us up. And then there was a problem. We were probably no more than ten minutes from the end of the circuit when we were presented with a tall wooden stile that we had to clamber over. We all realised it was going to be difficult to do this gracefully in our short skirts.

“Miss Amy will go over first, then me, and then you, poppet. Turn around, because I don't want you staring at me or Miss Amy.”

I turned my back on them and heard loud giggles as Amy, and then Laura, struggled to climb over the stile while protecting their modesty. It seemed to take ages. Mission accompanied, it was then my turn, but any hope I might have had that they would allow me some privacy were instantly dispelled.

“What are you waiting for?” asked Laura, impatiently. “Get yourself over!”

I had no option but to yank up my tight-fitting skirt in an attempt to manoeuvre over the stile, but it didn't work. Instead, it simply turned my skirt into a tight, restricting belt.

“For God's sake, use some common sense and take your skirt off, Stevie,” advised Laura, with an element of despair.

“No!” I hissed, instantly regretting how I had spoken.

Sure enough, Laura's face turned to thunder. Disagreeing with her in private was bad enough, but disagreeing with her in front of Amy was something far worse.

“I—said—take—off—your—skirt,” she slowly repeated, stressing each word in a way that brooked no dissent.

I look behind to check that no one was coming and then meekly did as I was told.

“I'll hold it,” exclaimed Amy, with considerable glee. She was revelling in my discomfort.

I passed her the skirt and then, with my panties on display, I nimbly climbed over the stile.

“That wasn't so difficult, was it?” shrieked Laura. “Talk about making a mountain out of a molehill, Stevie!”

I went to claim my skirt back from Amy, but Laura intervened.

“No,” Laura yelled, “Not until you've been spanked for disobedience.” She sat herself down on the wooden step of the stile and patted her thighs.

“What? No! Please, not here, Miss,” I cried.

“Get over my knees,” she ordered. “We're going nowhere until I've given you a spanking. I think I can hear voices in the distance.”

I couldn't hear anything, but possibly Laura could. The message was clear. Other walkers might be approaching us, and the longer we waited, the higher the risk they would catch me being spanked.

Crimson with embarrassment, I positioned myself over Laura's knees. She pulled my knickers down and began pummelling my backside. “You do not speak to me with that tone of voice, Stevie. I will not put up with disobedience nor with insolence.”

My spanking continued for several minutes. Any erotic feelings I might have experienced in the privacy of our flat from being punished in this way, were absent. All I could think of was the humiliation I would feel were someone to discover us. It was bad enough that Amy was witnessing this onslaught and, from occasional glances I made in her direction, she was loving every moment of my ordeal.

Eventually, my bottom now radiating heat, Laura pushed me off. “What you do say, Stevie?”

“Er... thank you, Miss,” I muttered, hastily pulling up my panties. “I'm sorry for disobeying you.”

“Get dressed!” she curtly instructed, her voice still expressing displeasure.

I reached out a hand for Amy to pass me my skirt. “No!” she teased, “You're not having it!”

“Please,” I pleaded.

“No!” she replied, sniggering. I could see she was getting carried away in the heat of the moment. I was starting to panic, especially as I could also now hear low voices in the distance.

“Amy, we don't have time for those fun and games. Give him his skirt! Now!” ordered Laura, whose patience was also being stretched.

Amy was blissfully unaware that she was close to crossing a line. “No!” she shouted, gleefully, “No, I won't! You'll have to chase me, pet!”

Laura had had enough and she grabbed Amy's arm. “Do you want a spanking as well, Amy? A bare-bottom spanking with Stevie watching? Right now? This very minute?” She spoke calmly, but with determination.

That warning stopped Amy in her tracks. I watched as her face changed colour, going from light pink to beetroot red. “No!” she whispered, sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Then give him his skirt!”

Amy did so, and I quickly put it on. “Now apologise to me, Amy,” added Laura.

For a few seconds, I thought Amy was going to put up some resistance. I actually felt sorry for her. She had been taken down a peg or two by Laura, in front of me.

“Er... I'm sorry, Laura. It was just... just a bit of fun.”

“You may be the deputy of this FLR, but deputy means that there's someone above you—and that's me!”

“I'm... I'm sorry, Laura.”

Laura still looked displeased, but then a smile spread across her face. “Come and give me a big hug, Amy. We're still the best of friends!”

Amy, without hesitation, flung her arms around Laura. They embraced passionately, and then they kissed—and I detected that tongues were involved. I watched, mesmerised, as Laura's left hand slipped under the front of Amy's vest top, fondling her right breast. All the while, I could hear the looming voices getting louder.

Finally, their lips separated. “I might still give you a spanking,” whispered Laura to Amy, “but in private.” Amy smiled awkwardly but said nothing.

The voices were almost upon us and Laura broke the embrace. Both girls moved to stand in front of me, as a middle-aged couple passed by.

“Good morning,” they said.

“Nice morning,” Laura and Amy replied in unison. I chose to keep quiet as we watched the couple disappear into the distance.

“If you two can behave yourselves—a big ask, I know—we'll return to the pub for lunch,” announced Laura. Amy and I looked at one another and she gave me a coy smile. She had an undeniable knack of teasing me and my penis gave a twitch.