no room on range

A sequel to Out of the West
by chimili anne

The jury verdict caused a murmur in the room and a few self-righteous smiles in the gallery. The judge called the court to order, then, “Maya Wiley you have been found guilty of two counts of aiding and abetting bestiality, three counts of contributing to the delinquency of a minor and moral turpitude. You are sentenced to nine years at the maximum security prison at Charleston. Esther Dunn you have been found guilty of destroying evidence and abetting crimes of moral turpitude. You are sentenced to one year at Maulden Prison. Upon your release from these institutions you both will be prohibited from associating with other criminals, including each other.” The judge rapped his gavel, “Bailiff will you and the Courts Matron escort the women to the holding area to be transported tomorrow? The court of the Second District of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts is dismissed for the rest of this day.”

Miss Wiley’s Institute for Femininity had ceased to exist. Her personal secretary, Esther Dunn destroyed personal history so no-one knew that in 1843 Miss Wiley was actually Armand Datweiller, and that he had been transformed by a potion and a dream into Miss Wiley, before the self-aggrandizing pillars of Boston’s moral authority precipitated a raid on her files many years later. Also missing were many of the Institute’s early records on feminizing young men and transforming them into women, with a potion and a dream.

Maya and Esther were led into separate holding cells where they could not communicate with each other. Maya thought that it was the last time she would ever see Esther. The next day she was transported in a wagon with two male prisoners to Charleston Prison.

Built decades earlier, Charleston Prison was a dismal, menacing looking place. Maya was separated from the other prisoners and led to the isolated woman’s wing. One of the female guards told her that she was likely going to get the “moral treatment”. She wondered what that meant. She temporarily was put in a cell with Indigo, a black woman. After they found out what each was in for Maya learned what could be in store for her. If she was going to get the “moral treatment” that was bad. They would put her in a whitewashed cell with only a cot, and once or twice a week she would be visited by a minister or deacon, and sometimes the guards and Myrna “The Rhinoceros”was the worst of them.

It happened a week later, she was transferred to the treatment wing. After the first month Maya lost track of the time. After three she started to lose her mind. She almost looked forward to the nasty things the rhinoceros would do. In an attempt to maintain what sanity she had left she started to replay her life in her mind, every detail, from the beginning.

Eventually in her remembering she got to where she became Maya and what happened next. After returning to Missouri from half a year of trapping Maya partied and bought clothes. Finally she wondered what she would do next year. The price of beaver pelts started plummeting, men wanted silk hats now, not beaver hats. Ike Nevers, her old trapping partner contacted her in November, writing that he was going to try his hand at trading and did she want to join him. She agreed and for a few months while waiting for him to arrive in St. Louis she learned the art of mesmerization from a gentleman from Hungary. He had two other female students.

One evening Maya and Doris the younger of the two were studying together. They decided to mesmerize each other. They both wondered if they could mesmerize each other into doing something they would never otherwise do.

“What are you most scared of?”

“I don’t think that will work, too dangerous.”

“Go for disgusting?”

“No.”

“Something sexual?”

“Perhaps.”

“What would you never do?”

“Lick your butt. And you?”

“Have anything up my butt.”

So it was decided, they hypnotized each other, but nothing came of it.

Several days later Maya and Doris got into a discussion on whether mesmerization did anything at all. They couldn’t agree so they tried again.

Maya began to rub Doris’s butt. Soon they both were naked and Maya began to lick around the opening. Doris began moving her derriere in some sort of rhythm, Maya greased up a finger and slid it in. Doris began moving back and forth and clinching her sphincter and unclinching it. Maya slipped in a second finger. Doris began breathing heavily and fingered her clit. Maya slipped in a third finger as Doris gently twisted her clit with her fingers, moaned and spasm-ed.

“It works.”

“Does it? Maybe we really wanted to do it.”

They decided to experiment with mesmerizing a few times more.

In March Ike arrived and in April Ike and Maya got in the big wagon full of trade goods and rode it to Council Grove, where they joined with other traders and teamsters heading to Santa Fe and other points west. The trip was blessedly uneventful.

On arriving in Santa Fe they contacted business owners and started making deals. After a few days things quieted down and Maya walked down Water Street to the house with the Baño sign. Only Flora was inside.

“Hello Flora.”

“Hola, uh, do I know you?”
“You do. Remember last year you used your abuela’s potion,. . . la bruja de la familia. Remember you created Magdalena.”

“Oh Dios mio! It’s you. What are you doing here again?”

Maya explained that she was a trader now, “. . .and my name is Maya.”

They made small talk for a bit, then Maya revealed why she was there. She reached in her pocket and pulled out several Eagles, ten dollar gold pieces, two alone would pay a cowboy’s wages for over a month. Maya fingered them for effect as she spoke and most of Flora’s attention was focused on the gold.

Your grandmother made the potion that transformed me. If you can find out what she might have written down or if you remember following her when she gathered the herbs and prepared the potion, and you can make the potion, these are yours. If you can supply me with the potion from time to time there will be more of these for you. Maya didn’t say that at present the gold Eagles in her hand were all the money that she had.

Flora thought, then she spoke, “Mi abuela didn’t exactly read and write, but she made notes of a sort. How many of those coins do you have . . . good, it’s a deal! Follow me.” She shut and latched the Baño door and Maya followed her to her home.

After an hour’s search Flora found a small heavily worn book with handwritten symbols and crude plant drawings in it. “She used symbols and pictures and numbers to remind her, but she couldn’t really write. There are recipes for several different potions here, but I don’t know which is which.”

“So what do we do?”

“Collect herbs and experiment on animals.”

That’s what they did. In a few days they had most of the herbs referred to in the book, or they thought they did. The preparation directions were not much better than the information on the herbs. There appeared to be seven different recopies with some variations. After they prepared several potions they tried putting them into small portions of food, putting the food out and watching what happened to the cats that ate them. Potions one, two and four did nothing, three made the cat sick and five made the cat that ate it lose all the rest of it’s lives.

A few days later they tried two more recipes and two variations. The last potion affected the cat that ate it in a strange manner. His eyes got big and he just sat there. Although he was feral Maya could approach him and he seemed to listen.

“It isn’t what we are looking for, but I think it’s useful.”

“If it’s useful I should be paid for it too.”

Maya couldn’t cover the cost, “You keep it Flora, maybe you will find a use for it.”

They tried and retried different potions the following week and none had any effect. They were about to give up when Maya looked one more time at the recipe that made the cat sick. “Look here, that funny symbol right after what we guessed was Mandrake. I remember reading about this now, that Mandrake that grows in America can make you sick. Your abuela must have done something to it.”

“Hmmm . . . now I think I remember her soaking it in lye.”

They remade the potion and fed it to a scrawny old tomcat. The next day he was back, magnificently hung.

“That’s it! That’s it!” they both shouted, hugged each other and jumped up and down.

Next the women tried the two potions on stray dogs. Then they decided they had to try it on a person.

“If we try it on someone it should at least be for something positive.”

“Of course, who should we try it on?”

They finally decided on poor Donaldo. Everything was physically wrong with him.

It was easy to convince Donaldo to try the potion, and by the next day they realized that they had succeeded. Later they tried the second potion on Flora’s crabby cousin by sneaking a little into the prima’s drink and while her eyes were glazed over talked her into being charming instead.

Flora made three bottles of the transformation potion. Maya convinced Ike to front her a few more gold coins and got a bottle of the second potion as well.

After six weeks including a trip to Taos they were ready to bring back exchanged trade goods. Maya was ready to take on La Tula at the table, but she didn’t have a big enough stake. First she hit up Ike, then she hit up Flora, but Flora would only stake her for two gold pieces. She talked a few other traders into loaning her more.

That evening Maya slipped in the front door of La Tula’s Saloon. The regulars and the marks had not arrived yet. Good. Maya thought how La Tula had skunked a large amount of money from her and planned to turn the tables. She approached La Tula’s table.

La Tula removed the cigar from her mouth, “Game?”

Maya agreed, only putting part of her coins in front of her. La Tula could not possibly suspect who she once was, and that was good.

La Tula would deal five card Monte, letting Maya win a few hands and then start fleecing her. That was the way she worked.

Maya played along, winning four of the first six hands. Soon La Tula would put on the heat. It was easy. Five card Monte was a rigged game.

“Let’s play something else.” said Maya.

“We only play Monte here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Maya in a condescending voice. “that you are unable to play the other poker games. Must be very hard for you.”

La Tula pulled the cigar out of her mouth “It’s not hard at all tu tonto tonto!” she said with a slight sneer. “It’s five card stud and the ante is no longer five pesos. It’s one hundred!”

It was on. Maya was reading and intuiting as best she could and she started winning a little, but then the stakes went up on a big hand Maya lost. She had to pull some more of her stake hold out of her purse. By now there was interest in the game and two traders who backed Maya were watching. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Flora slip in too.

Maya asked for a drink, and in the few minute lull in the game started to slip into her mesmerizing routine and hoped to get away with it. It wasn’t working, she owed a lot for her stake hold and that was steadily disappearing. La Tula slammed her with another big hand and there was nothing on the table in front of her.

. She felt trapped. She wanted to get up and leave, but she couldn’t. Maya pulled out the rest of her stake hold with trembling hands and a sinking heart. All eyes were on her and no one except Maya saw a hand slip out of the crowd and pour a dribble of liquid into La Tula’s drink.

La Tula dealt another hand and Maya lost again. There were a few murmurs from the crowd because Maya didn’t appear to play her hand well. La Tula smirked and killed her drink. Maya only won one of the next four hands. She glanced into La Tula’s eyes furtively, as a rabbit might look at a predator. La Tula’s eyes were starting to glaze over.

Maya asked for a drink, managed to steady herself a little and tossed it down. She looked at La Tula’s eyes once more. No longer the eyes of a predator, they had assumed a vacant stare. Maya slipped into her least noticeable mesmerizing techniques. It sounded like idle prattle, but it subtly began to work on La Tula. She softly and repetitively told La Tula that when she was bluffing her little finger would twitch. She suggestively intonated that La Tula should bet on inside straights. As the game continued she slipped in other bad hints as well.

Maya started winning. A little at first, then more and more.

It was past midnight now. Maya had won her stake hold back, and almost doubled it. Something inside of her demanded revenge. She looked La Tula in the eye. “Let’s play Five Card Monte.” There was dead silence in the room. “I said let’s play Five Card Monte and the ante is two hundred pesos.”

La Tula agreed and they continued. Maya had crammed so many bad suggestions into La Tula’s brain that she still continued to win at the woman’s crooked game. A little after one in the morning La Tula’s eyes started to clear and Maya knew enough to leave fast. She cashed in the chips and left with half a dozen people in her wake.

She paid off all her stake holds with interest, and packed her winnings safely away. It was triple what La Tula won from her a few years earlier.

Early next morning Flora stopped by. She handed Maya a small bottle and said, “Someday you may need a lot of this.”

Ike and Maya returned to Missouri in a wagon train with other traders. It seemed to be a successful trip, but when they sold off their trade goods they hadn’t made much trading. Neither of them were meant for the business.

It didn’t take much to return to the surreality of the prison. For awhile Maya couldn’t think straight. The lack of human contact and the barrenness of her surroundings allowed her to slip into delusions. These were interrupted by a deacon visiting at irregular intervals with God talk and Myrna extracting some devious punishment for an imagined infraction. How long was she in this cell? Three months? Half a year?

She was led out to the yard in a rare reprieve with several other female prisoners for an hour. For a reprieve it was miserable. A wet snow was falling and cold gusts pierced through the woman’s thin clothing. They were shivering when they came in. As she passed the guard’s station she saw a partly eaten piece of beef on a plate. Hungry, she palmed it and ate it in her cell.

Ten minutes later Myrna Osborne entered the cell with two other guards. The rhinoceros handcuffed her behind her back as the other two held her down. They led her to a room the women called “The Crypt”.

Myrna grabbed her by the chin and glared at her, “That was my dinner.” She tied a rope around Maya’s elbows and hoisted her off the ground. Maya felt intense pain in her shoulders. Then the rhinoceros beat on her ribs with a truncheon. When Myrna was satisfied she lowered the poor woman to the ground and led her back to her cell.

Maya’s shoulders and ribs hurt for two weeks. She regained her sense of time for awhile, but then it slipped away. Then Maya slipped away into memory again.

After being a trader Maya moved to New Orleans and using her poker winnings opened “Madame Wyley’s School for Femininity. Maya would use her subtle intuitive senses to find callow young men who had, as Maya would say, “. . .strong feminine urges. . .” and encourage them to visit her school. If they were attracted to it’s practices and curriculum they could pay tuition and attend. School lasted four years and the young men would start as dedicants.

Maya would give the dedicants a dose of her potion at the appropriate time. She would use the power of suggestion along with the potion to subtly direct her young wards to have a suitable dream wish to become a woman. After Maya’s potion fulfilled their dream wish, the now young ladies would become maidens. With training in; manners, fashion, servitude and practice in sexual duties and pleasures they became acolytes. Most would eventually become debutantes and a select few, apprentice mistresses.

Maya’s located her school in the French Quarter, but it eventually became so successful that it moved to an elegant house in the Garden District. What happened in the School for Femininity was an open secret. Most folks in New Orleans would wink or nod or grin when it was mentioned.

One beautiful spring day in 1855 a thin comely young man presented himself at the door. Edgar Dunn was a genteel seventeen year old with a thin frame and a mind like a steel trap. Maya had great hopes for him because of his mental talents. Within the minimum six weeks during which Maya would do screening and evaluating he, now she, became a maiden. Esther, for that was her new name didn’t succumb to the flashy. She become a thin, energetic young woman. By late fall, two weeks after her birthday, she had become an acolyte.

Maya remembered her first real sexual experience with Esther. It was late November and a bit rainy so that evening all the girls were at home. Maya decided to see how Esther was progressing in servitude and called her to the private parlor. This was a small elegant room next to Maya’s bedroom. Maya was on the divan when Esther entered. Maya scrutinized her wardrobe, a little too plain for the occasion and she instructed her to wear her pale mauve dress, four inch heels, use a curling iron to touch up her hair and to forget the panties. Esther was back in twenty minutes wearing some succulent smelling perfume as well. “Good choice.” thought Maya.

Before they started Maya questioned her, “Have you been practicing with a dildo and is the vestige a problem?” Maya was referring to a vestigial penis without balls that Esther still had. This was not uncommon with maidens and even acolytes, as most cannot yet totally envision total femininity. They usually would have a followup dream at some point emerging a full female.

“Madame Maya i practice on both sides knowing that my rear entrance may be of some use for giving pleasure. It has stretched over these short, few months. The vestige can get hard, but is not more than an inch and a half at best, and it can be hidden quite well.”

This seemed to be a suitable response and Maya moved to a overstuffed chair. She ran her fingers over its brocade, smiled and beckoned to Esther. “Come my comely acolyte and kneel before me. Raise my skirt and put your hands on my knees. I want you to start by kissing my thighs.”

Esther did as instructed.

“Now I want you to slide my skirt up to my waist and slowly move your mouth up the insides of those thighs. Mmm, that’s starting to feel good. . . Now I want you to show me what you learned in cunnilingus class.”

Before it went too much further Maya needed to give her protege the rest of the instructions, before she forgot them in her pleasure. “Stop a moment and look at me.”

“Yes Mistress.”

Maya opened a drawer under the table next to the chair and pulled out a large dildo. “First you will insert this into your backside. I am expecting a visitor and do not wish to disappoint him. Second you will not play with your penis or vagina until you have pleasured both him and me. Third you will have an audience when you pleasure yourself. You must have an orgasm for us within ten minutes so as not to bore us. Do you understand?”

“Yes Mistress.”

Esther took the dildo and oiled it, then she inserted it in her backside, not without difficulty, because it was larger than her practice dildo. Being that full contributed to a few spasms of delight and her penis twitched.

“Control that please.” said the Madame.

Esther commenced licking the frilly edges of Mayas vagina, then gently teething them. Covering the sacred mound with the surrounding skin she gently rubbed it with one finger while putting her tongue in Maya’s clit.

“Time for our guest.” Maya pulled a brocaded belt that hung from the ceiling. A bell chimed softly somewhere and half a minute later a naked well-hung gentleman appeared.

“She is ready to service you.”

He removed the dildo, put his member to the gates and entered. Within seconds he was up to the hilt.
Esther’s little penis started to twitch and she hoped that Madame would not notice. She need not have worried. Her ministrations on Maya were causing the beginning of an orgasm. Then waves of pleasure enveloped Madame. She covered her precious parts as if to say enough and Esther’s tongue stopped it’s work.

“What I do for the sake of education!” said Maya.

In a few more strokes the gentleman’s pecker john exploded in Esther’s innards. He withdrew, and a thin white stream dribbled down her leg.

Esther cleaned them off. The gentleman left the room and Maya pulled the belt twice. Shortly two elegant couples entered. Esther ushered them to some chairs and served them mint juleps and petit fours. Then Madame motioned that she was to get on the table and remove her dress. Back went the dildo into her backside. Madame pointed at the drawer and Esther reached in and got another dildo for her front side. Madame beamed and Esther began. Esther reamed herself from both ends simultaneously. That and her extreme feeling of vulnerability made her little penis get hard. Then waves of feeling started erupting from deep inside her. She moaned and bucked and collapsed.

At the end the guests quickly became interested in each other and totally ignored Esther. She felt it would be nice to be acknowledged, but was embarrassed and thought that it was better this way. She grabbed her dress and left.

In late spring of 1859 Esther, now a total woman graduated from Madame Wyley’s School for Femininity as an apprentice mistress and Madame hired her at once as her secretary and bookkeeper. Esther began teaching basic bookkeeping and home finance management to some of the advanced students as well. This appealed to parents who wanted unruly boys turned into compliant girls as they then could help out in family businesses.

A feeling of desolation overtook Maya: sterility of white walls, an emptiness, aloneness. The walls began to sway and twist and turn. Now color slowly crept into the white walls becoming the walls of her school, but everything was twisted. .Dedicants were piling up, one after another, and running amok. Maya noticed she was getting bloated and slow. Her pregnant stomach was distending rapidly, so much so that she became frightened. Then she gave birth, out came more mini-Mayas, one after another, some dressed as ladies, some as floozies and some as maids. She shook herself awake “I know what that meant, was I as bad as all that.” When her head cleared she went back to remembering.

By 1860 Maya could only find a few dedicants for her school but by the beginning of spring in 1861 as the Civil War started women would knock on her door wanting to be turned into males so they could join the Louisiana troops, and some males would want to flip the other way to avoid the draft. Maya accommodated their wishes for a modest payment. Because there were more becoming draft able males than un-draftable females the authorities winked and looked the other way.

By spring the following year Union troops held New Orleans. Maya tried to get more of the potion from Flora to see if the dreaming process would heal soldier’s wounds, but she could not. Nothing would get through. She was out of potion. Under the occupation corruption got worse and things got expensive.

By the end of the war Maya’s house was badly in need of repairs. Louisiana had become a state of widows so dedicants were uncommon, and besides, none of them had any money. The South had lost the war and scrip was worthless. Maya managed to sell the place, took Esther and a few of the girls and moved to a suburb of Boston and opened the Columbia Institute of Femininity in a smaller house. The shipments from Flora resumed. She was somewhat successful, but it only lasted two years.

In February of 1867 there was a knock on her door. When one of the girls answered it several policemen forced their way in. Almost instantaneously Esther realized what would happen. She grabbed a few of the girls and together they carried away all the important papers down into the basement, then out the basement door to a warehouse a mile and a half away. She safely stored what needed to be stored and burned what needed to be burned. Several bluenose elites had persuaded the police to shut Maya down and Columbia closed.

The trial was in mid March and before May Maya was in prison.

Remembering ceased and Maya again drifted in and out of sanity. Time was no longer linear; it stretched and it shrank.

A guard put her hand on Maya’s shoulder and shook it, “Come on girl git back in your mind. Pastor’s here to see you.”

Maya returned mostly to herself. She looked at the pastor. He was quite thin and sallow. He probably hadn’t done any really physical work in his life. He waved the guard to leave them, and she did.

“Maya it’s me.” the pastor said, “. . .me. . .Esther.”

Maya looked closer, “It is you. . . but how?”

“I was released two weeks ago, took care of some of our business, disguised myself as a churchman and am here to get you out.”

“How.”

“I can bring some potion next time I come. Let’s make plans.”

A week later Esther aka. Reverend Jarvis Prine was back. The Reverend visited two other inmates first to cover “his” tracks.

“I sent a letter off to Ike, as you said. It’s a good place to lie low, and here is a bit of the potion and a hacksaw blade as you asked.”

About this time Myrna the guard came by and lingered so the Reverend started talking about repentance. The rhinoceros got bored and left about three minutes later. After she left they found a hiding place in a crack between two stones for the blade and dug out a tiny hidey hole for the vial in the corner of the room.

“I checked the calender for the new moon, it’s on May 4th, just a bit over two weeks away.”

“That’s good, I probably can hacksaw the hinges on the food door just enough by then.”

The Reverend stayed away for two weeks and showed up two days before the break would happen. Maya had hack sawed the hinges almost to the point that they would fall off and swept the filings into the cell with her hair.

“I’m ready to go. The hinges barely hold.”

“Good. Your carriage will be waiting, remember it’s 2:00 AM the night after tomorrow night, and Ike sent a letter back. He can’t wait to see you.”

On Monday, May 4 a guard slid the bowel with the evening meal through the food door. Maya ate it and slid the bowel back out. She waited with her back to the door listening for the guard to come by and pick up the prisoners bowels. After the footsteps stopped echoing down the hall she took the potion and hack sawed some more on the hinges. One finally sawed through and the other hung by a metal shard. She cleaned up the filings with her hair and went to sleep on her bed.

Continued in Chapter 2

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This sissy doesn’t know what sh.e would do without The House to come to. This sissy has been so much happier after sh.e joined and has met a lot of sissy sisters that sh.e can relate to and confide in.… Read more “stacey”

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