Manhattan Marriage - New Story and Happy Christmas from Lady C

As mentioned in the last post I said I may write a story similar to Intermission based on some stills from film The Women but instead of the male being the maid he is now feminised by his mother in law. Unfortunately the mother in law here is not the most attractive but I’m sure you can use your imagination. The next chapter of AVVE is still a work in progress but Lady Charlotte insisted on wishing everyone the compliments of the season and indicates she will return sometime in the new year.

Not much else to say other than the usual thanks to those who commented and ticked the more box.

The story below as with Intermission is based in the 30's/40's.

Hope you have a Very Happy and Safe Christmas and a Wonderful New Year.

Carrie.

PS there should have been text in the first pic in the story but for some reason it didn't materialize.

pps didn't get time to fully reread the text so apologies in advance for any typos.

A Manhattan Marriage

By

CarrieP

 The tears came. At first these came as short bursts of sobbing which then quickly progressed to more prolonged weeping. 

 It had been a particularly trying afternoon for William but then again this was now true of every afternoon or to be more precise it was true of every day.

No man should have to go through this torture he said to himself as he dried his eyes avoiding the mirror as he did so although he knew this was ridiculous as he would eventually have to fix his make-up. He eventually composed himself and tried to gather his thoughts.

Of course I know I shoulder some responsibility for this dreadful situation. I was far too naive, mesmerised by the glamour and glitter of Sophia’s wealth and position. Yes I was too gullible, he continued to berate himself as he looked down at the full length housecoat of the softest velvet in a most delicate shade of peach and felt another sob rise from within. So foolish, so stupid how could I have been such an idiot.

 These were the thoughts that ran through his head as he looked around the large bathroom of his mother in law’s spacious and elegantly appointed Manhattan apartment. This outpouring of frustration and emotion had become a daily occurrence and like every other aspect of his recent life it seemed powerless to control. Much as he hated to admit it this utter lack emotional control was a particularly feminine quality and one he seemed to be incapable of subduing.

It all happened so fast but how did I allow it get to this stage? he said quietly as he finally plucked up the courage to look at himself in the mirror and recalled the early days of his relationship with mother and daughter.

The van Horne’s were an old and extremely wealthy New York family and mesmerised not only by this wealth but also the social influence of Sophia and her mother he was flattered when he received an invitation to dine with them. He was smitten from the very start and although he felt Mrs van Horne was a little bit overbearing he reasoned this was from the perspective of protecting her daughter from gold diggers and this he thought entirely reasonable. In the subsequent weeks, seduced by their gilded lifestyle, he was inexorably drawn into their orbit. Soon all three became inseparable and it was not long before he was invited to stay with them on a permanent basis. Their luxurious apartment in Manhattan and their large house in the Hamptons made it impossible to refuse and he quickly became used to their opulent way of life. From the beginning Mrs van Horne was very generous to their new companion, fussing over him and lavishing him with expensive gifts as well as opening accounts in the most exclusive stores. He often wondered how he lived without such luxury and not only that but he now had the added bonus of having an attractive woman as a girlfriend. It didn’t take too long before Sophia’s mother made it known that she would welcome him as a son-in-law and also made it abundantly clear he would benefit greatly from a union with her daughter.

It was only now dressed as he was that he realised he should have been more circumspect in this new relationship when he remembered what Mrs van Horne said on one occasion. 

“He is such a darling boy Sophia, not a bit macho or aggressive like those other men you have dated.... and those high cheek bones and delicate features.... there are quite..... ”

She paused for moment before exclaiming,

“Feminine. It’s almost as if..... ”

“Mother!”  Sophia said brusquely cutting off her mother, giving her a glare for good measure” You’re embarrassing William.”

“Oh I don’t mean to, you’re not embarrassed are you darling?” her mother replied calmly as she acknowledged her daughter s interruption by stroking his face gently.

He was extremely disconcerted by her remarks but was too flustered to say anything. Mrs van Horne continued,

 “ and.....  he has such wonderful possibilities.”

Those words should have woken me up. he said to himself bitterly.

 The wedding was hastily arranged and was an extremely low key affair just the three of them and a city hall official as Sophia had to leave for Europe on a prearranged trip for the cultural foundation which the family’s wealth funded. A pathological fear of boats prevented William from accompanying his new bride.

“This is most irregular, a husband should always be at his wife’s side. Seasickness is an extremely poor excuse for not escorting my daughter abroad.” she snorted indignantly when he told her of his phobia and only Sophia’s logically argument that she would be unable to concentrate of her mission if she had to look after him as well eventually calmed her mother.

“Think of it as a quid pro quo Mother.” Sophia said on the dock as she boarded the liner.

“What!” her mother replied sharply.

“Well you’re not losing a daughter you are gaining a son.” Sophia answered.

“Mmm...Quid pro quo, you say.” her mother repeated in a thoughtful voice.

“Perhaps it’s all for the best.” Sophia said to William as she kissed him gently on the cheek “Mummy will need the company when I’m gone and there is so much to arrange for the wedding reception on my return, I’m sure you will be a great help and comfort to her.”

“Don’t worry Sophia.” her mother assured her daughter, William could see her demeanour had changed considerably.“I will take very good care of him as I always do. Isn’t that right William?”

“Yes of course Mrs van Horne.” he answered a little nervously.

“Oh come now, no need to be so formal dear boy, we are family now.” his mother in law said as she slipped her arm under his and drew him close, so close that he could feel the wiring in her large brassiere.”You really must address me as Mummy. That will be part of our quid pro quo, don’t you agree?”

He did not answer but she pulled him sharply to her and arched her eyes in an inquisitorial manner. A reply was expected – the correct reply. He felt extremely uneasy but did not want to cause an argument just as Sophia was leaving.

“Yes ...Mummy.” he said softly.

“Wonderful. I’m so relieved you two are not arguing. ” Sophia chirped as she kissed her mother and climbed the gangway.

“Quid pro quo, dear boy, quid pro quo.” his mother in law said as she led him away.

****************************

 “I thought I should remind you...........” a voice interrupted his recollections. Anna his mother in law’s loyal and trusted maid  appeared, a smile forming at the corner of her mouth, her eyes scornfully scanning the figure in a lady’s housecoat, before belatedly  adding in a tone dripping with mockery “....Sir. Miss Sophia will be telephoning from Paris very shortly.”

He winced at the glaringly obvious expression of ridicule in her voice. Only a few days ago he would berate her, a mere maid, for such insolence but now dressed as he was and knowing that she would report any such outburst to her mistress he knew it was best to ignore her scornful manner and try to maintain some semblance of dignity.

“Thank you Anna” he said trying to sound as authoritative as a man could to whilst wearing his wife’s clothes.

“Would...sir....like some help with his make-up?” the maid asked as she entered the bathroom and unnecessarily rearranged the already neatly folded towels. “Madam will be home shortly and I’m sure she will wonder how your make-up became so smudged.  She went to so much trouble applying your make-up this morning I really think she will not be pleased to find your face in such a state.”

He looked in the mirror and saw she was right, his tears had cause his mascara to run and the tissues he used to dry them had ruined his immaculately made-up face and through the blotches he could see his masculine characteristics trying to emerge. His mother in had warned him on several occasions to ensure his make-up was always kept in perfect condition and he knew she would not be pleased to find his face in such disarray. Such was his anxiety about displeasing her he quickly agreed to the maid’s suggestion.

“Yes.... I suppose you are right.” he reluctantly conceded.

The maid smiled as she stood to one side and silently gestured he return to the bedroom and without having to be told he walked to the dressing table holding up the long housecoat so he would not trip.

“As sir will have to dress shortly I think it would save time if you removed your housecoat before I retouch your make-up.” Anna said.

He could not see the point of this request but the last few days dressed as a woman had destroyed his confidence and without questioning her he timidly complied. He unbuttoned the housecoat and she took it from him and placed it in on the bed.

“Is that Madam’s new Dior corselette?” she said as she ran her hands over the heavy black satin material stretched tightly over his buttocks.

His embarrassment and vulnerability prevented him from answering, he could only nod his confirmation. Anna continued “it really gives you such a feminine figure but ... if sir will permit me... I think your straps need a little adjustment.”

He remained silent as she turned him around, he could feel her warm breath on his neck and her groin pressing hard into his plump behind as she altered the corselette’s brassiere straps to her satisfaction and then gently stroked his arms. It took him a few seconds to break free of the tight hold she had of him, Anna merely smiled at his feeble attempt to shake off her grip, she finally let him go and he quickly sat at the dressing table.

 “I hope you don’t mind me saying ...sir” she said as she applied the cream to his face “you have such fine features, high cheek bones, full lips, expressive eyes and long lashes. And Madam’s hairdresser told me your hair was a pleasure to work with....that perm really suits you and it only took two hours under the dryer. Maybe next time she will bring you to the salon and you can have your nails done at the same time. ”

He visibly winced but remained silent, this could not possibly be true. He had already done everything Sophia’s mother asked – and more so there was no reason for him to continue to wear women’s clothing.  Anna was so loyal to her mistress he did not want to say what he really felt because he knew this would be immediately reported back and would only antagonise his mother in law. He remained impassive hoping she would discontinue this line of conversation but his reticence only enthused her.

“I mean .. ”she said as she now applied a smokey shade of eye-shadow “...it must make it so much easier for you.” He was afraid to ask what she meant and held his tongue but it didn’t matter as she clearly considered it a rhetorical question. She noticed his reluctance to engage in the conversation and persisted in the one sided exchange.

“Now that you have had a few days wearing such beautiful clothes you probably feel more comfortable in skirts and dresses, and Madam’s gorgeous corselette gives you such a womanly figure you probably will not want to return to wearing men’s boring clothes.  She told me you have been such a great comfort and support to her while Miss Sophia is away she has purchased  an entire wardrobe especially for you. She really has such excellent taste in clothes, wait until you see what she has bought for you. You will look simply stunning.”

He could not believe his ears, this was some cruel joke on Anna’s part.

“W..what!”  he almost screamed.

The sound of the phone rang in the bedroom.

“Excuse me sir.” She said unfazed by his outburst and left him with his mouth open “that will probably be Miss Sophia.”

“No, this can’t be true.” he said out loud “I’ve done everything she asked.”He was still trying to process what Anna had said as the maid returned.

“Miss Sophia is on the line from Paris....sir” she said.

At last he said to himself as he gathered the heavy skirts of his housecoat and rushed to the bedroom. Once Sophia hears what I have done to indulge her mother’s wishes she will soon put a stop to this nonsense.

“Hello darling.” Sophia’s husky voice crackled down the phone line “The voyage was quite pleasant, no bad weather and we arrived on schedule. Paris is wonderful, we really must come here on our honeymoon, you and Mother will absolutely love it. She sent me a telegram telling me how marvellous you have been, she is so impressed with you.”

“Oh Sophia...”he interrupted her, his voice almost breaking with emotion “it’s dreadful your mother has kept me in your clothes since the day after you sailed.”

“Calm down darling, don’t get too hysterical.” Sophia said in an unruffled tone “Yes dear, she telephoned me earlier but just as she was about to explain the line broke down, she said something about my wedding gown.”

“Yes..yes.. that’s how it started.” he blurted “your dressmaker wasn’t aware you had left for Europe and arrived the morning after you sailed with several bridal gowns that you wished to try on before deciding which one you preferred. Your mother said she would like to see them modelled before choosing one.”

“Oh that’s right, I trust Mother’s judgement completely she has such wonderful instincts when it comes to these things. She is a ........” his wife said but did not get to finish the sentence.

“She said that as you and I were almost a similar build ..I should.....” he interrupted her, his voice began to quiver and he stifled a tear “...wear them. I refused but she and the dressmaker insisted saying time was of the essence and they really must see the gowns modelled before you returned.”

He could no longer hold back the tears and he began weep.

“Your... mother and Anna......”he sobbed “practically ....forced me into one of the gowns”

“Oh darling ...such a brave boy.” she said encouragingly “I know we are a similar build but you are a little bigger than you....how did...?”

“They.... made me wear...... “he snivelled “....one of your mother corselettes.”

“One of her black Dior ones I suppose or perhaps it was the new Spirella with back lacing?” Sophia asked in a strangely calm tone.

“The Spirella.”he replied “can you telephone her and tell her....”

“Are you still wearing it?” she interrupted him and brushed aside his request.

“No.... she put me in her Dior corselette today, said it would be more comfortable” he answered distractedly then desperately tried to persist with his request he  blurted  “but can you.....”

“Oh that’s better.” she said continuing to ignore his pleading “her Dior is certainly tight and figure reducing but it is  more comfortable than the new Spirella. I hated it when she insisted I wear it, it is so constrictive but it does give one a glorious shape, don’t you think?”

This talk of the merits of women’s foundation garments was making him quite agitated.

“Please darling” he began to insist “can you telephone her she wants to keep me in women’s clothes until you return. It is just awful and most humiliating.”

“Darling I know it’s difficult but try to stay calm.” Sophia said in a soothing voice “You must understand Mother and I are rarely separated, being an only child she and I have an extremely strong bond. Now that you have married me she considers you even closer than a blood relation,  she views you as the second child she never had. Of course the fact that we have- through sheer luck- similar facial features only strengthened this intense emotional connection and when she saw you in the bridal gown she probably saw me. You must know just how emotional mothers get when they see their daughters in bridal gowns.”

“But...”William tried to interrupt but Sophia continued

 “She was terribly upset when she found out I had to leave for Europe and I know she berated you for not coming but deep inside she was glad, your presence meant I was still with her and she took great comfort in that. In our brief conversation she said she could not manage without your phenomenal help and support.”

“But I can be of comfort and support to her without ...without...dressing in your clothes.” he appealed “it is so humiliating having to wear skirts and blouses. She even insists I wear make-up.”

“Of course she does. Every woman wears make-up and I’m sure it makes you more presentable otherwise you would probably look too masculine. ” his wife answered “please darling ....for my sake just indulge her for the time being. I know this is difficult for you darling but you have been absolutely wonderful so far. It’s only for another week or so and it would break her heart if you did stopped now. It means so very much to Mother.”

“But ...I...” he began to protest.

Sophia quickly interjected.

 “Don’t forget ......she is extremely generous and you will find you will be greatly rewarded for your kindness.”

“But darling..” he said and suddenly heard a hissing on the line, hitting the cradle with his fingers he frantically exclaimed  “hello  ....hello   Sophia are you there....”

The line went dead.

************************************

 “Good afternoon Madam, shall I take your coat also?” Anna said as she took her mistress’s stole.

“No Anna, I am not staying long I have a meeting with my ladies club. They are simply dying to meet my son-in-law.” Mrs van Horne replied checking her appearance in the hall mirror before turning back to her maid “and how is our protégé progressing?”

“He is a little upset again Madam, he keeps fidgeting with the straps of his corselette, tugging at his garters and I have to remind him to keep his heels on at all times.” Anna answered “I’m afraid he still has not come to terms with his ....his...”

“Feminisation?”  Mrs van Horne said “I believe that is the correct term. He is such a darling boy, obviously does not realise he is far too pretty to strut about in pants like most men. Good heavens with skin like porcelain, small waist and those delicate features when he wears pants he looks more like Katherine Hepburn than Humphrey Bogart and the sooner he realises that the better.  He looks so much better in skirts and so much like Sophia, it’s almost like she never left.”

“ Yes Madam, he does seem to lack rugged masculine qualities.” Anna agreed “and  the ...ahem...the .. er.. ...protuberance in his chest area  certainly does give him a slightly feminine silhouette.”

“Yes those two small but wonderfully distinct feminine mounds are apparently why he wears – or used to wear- loose fitting shirts.”Mrs van Horne said as she refreshed her lipstick in the mirror “All the more reason he should be wearing a proper brassiere. Don’t you agree Anna?”

“Of course Madam.” her maid concurred “In fact I have noticed his posture has improved since he has been wearing one. And if I may say so Madam, he does have quite shapely legs.....for a man.”

“Yes he does, doesn’t he? And those grey seamed stocking are perfect on him.” Mrs van Horne agreed “And his attitude has improved greatly, he wasn’t as compliant when I first met him, however as he gradually came under my influence and I established my authority over him his manner changed considerably.  It was quite subtle at first of course, he didn’t even know it had happened but after a day or two I knew he would make the perfect male companion for me and an ideal husband for Miss Sophia. You see Anna, society ladies like myself and Miss Sophia require the outward or superficial presence of a male, but as you know very well, that is exactly what it is – a charade. Males are in fact mere window dressing- trophy husbands for ladies like us. Of course the best way to ensure they do not get ideas about any macho behaviour is to  gradually dress them in pretty feminine clothes. This engenders those wonderful qualities of obedience and submissiveness in the male thus making him – as I have said - the perfect companion and husband.”

“I think there is no doubt he will make Madam a most suitable companion.”Anna said “but he does seem a little agitated at the moment. He was crying in the bathroom earlier.”

“Oh that is a good sign Anna.” Mrs van Horne chirped a broad smile spreading across her face “it means he is coming to terms with his new circumstances, albeit reluctantly. It may also mean he has a more feminine streak in him than we thought, after all what kind of man is so easily persuaded into wearing a bridal gown and then his wife’s trousseau.”

“Yes Madam it was wonderful to see his masculinity fade under your persuasive arguments.” Anna said “I just wish Miss Sophia was here to see it.”

“Yes but it will be worth it she will have a perfectly trained wife when she returns in a few weeks.” Mrs van Horne replied. “Now go fetch the dear boy I think he may need some reassurance and his poor masculine ego may need a little massaging.”

***************************

“Ah, there you are ......my beautiful  son-in law.” Mrs van Horne gushed as William perched on his four inch heels minced his way into the drawing room.

“Oh Mrs van.....”he bleated.

“Now, now William.” she gently chided him “I thought we agreed how you should address me. And while you are at it do so in the correct manner that befits ladies of your social standing.”

The young man stopped and hesitated, he could feel another layer of embarrassment envelop him but he knew he would have to comply with her wishes otherwise there would be a prolonged conversation which he would lose anyway. He swallowed hard and saw Anna, who had positioned herself behind her mistress, smile triumphantly. He hated this form of address as much as he hated his new clothes.

“Good afternoon .......Mummy.” he said quietly.

“Can you speak up William, you are not a schoolgirl meeting the headmistress.” his mother –in-law rebuked him.

“Good afternoon ....Mummy.” he repeated in a louder but still meek voice.

“Much better.” Mrs van Horne said approvingly, her voice more gentle now. “Now come and greet me the way we agreed, in a more affectionate manner.”

Hours spent in high heels under Anna’s supervision now became second nature and he moved across the room in a distinctively womanly gait and embraced his mother-in –law, kissing her on the cheek in an unmistakably feminine fashion.

“Now tell Mummy what exactly is upsetting you?”Mrs van Horne asked in her most soothing voice.

“It’s just that.... well....”he said haltingly almost afraid to say the words “....these clothes, Sophia’s clothes....it’s just ....not right ... I mean I should have my....”

“Ah yes my darling I think I understand.” his mother-in- law gently interrupted his babbling “you feel you should have your own clothes to wear.”

“Exactly!” he blurted and   now that he could see she was in good humour, he thought it a good idea to add ingratiate himself to her........“Mummy.”

He could see she was thinking over the idea and he decided to press his case.

“You see Mummy I think I have worn Sophia’s clothes long enough.” he began tentatively as she settled herself on the couch and listened to him intently “I know you miss Sophia and that is very understandable, she is your only daughter after all and I know you feel closer to her when you see me dressed in her clothes but I’m sure I will still remind you of her if I can wear my own clothes.”

He allowed his mother in law to absorb his argument before continuing.

“I will still be the same person and..” he decided to play what he considered to be his trump card “ like Sophia I will always be devoted to you.”

“Of course you are right dear boy, I should have seen it sooner.”Mrs van Horne said “I suppose it was intolerable of me to ask you to wear Sophia’s clothes. I see my mistake now, how foolish of me and thank you for bringing it to my notice. Of course you should have your own clothes.”

William breathed a sigh of relief. At last she understood.

“Tomorrow we will go to the most exclusive stores in New York and buy you an entire wardrobe of new clothes.” she exclaimed excitedly “you can have anything your heart desires, Chanel skirts, Doucet blouses, Schiaparelli and Dior have the most wonderful ball gowns this season. And of course we simply must get you your own lingerie and foundation wear. Sophia and I always go shopping together but I never thought I would be able to do this with you.”

Suddenly he felt a lightness in his head and his legs became weak, he began to tremble at the knees. His mouth opened but no words came out.

“Oh this is the most wonderful news.” his mother-in-law exclaimed in a most excited voice and she stood up and embraced her speechless son-in-law, “and if we have enough times we can get you a new hair-do, oh..yes... and of course your nails, maybe even get your ears pierced.  There is so much to be done, isn’t this thrilling? Oh dear you look pale.... is it all the excitement?”

“I....I.....I think..... I need to sit down.” he spluttered.

Intermission - A (very) short story

I’m in the middle of the next chapter of AVVE but real life has intervened so progress is a bit slow and I suspect it will take another few weeks to complete it.

To fill the gap so to speak – translation: lazy bastard drags out something old- I’m posting a fragment of a story based on one of my favourite films – The Women made in 1939.

I used to amuse myself by captioning scenes from this film visualising myself as one of the main characters , sometimes the maid, sometimes her mistress. I could never make my mind up which I preferred. In the scenes below the male is the maid. In a future post I may have the male feminised by an older woman and her maid so the male would then be the lady seen on the right in the second picture.  

 It would take too long to write a complete background story although if I had enough time and there was enough interest I may do it at some stage. Readers will have to just take for granted that this young man, as is usual in these stories,  somehow has been tricked, blackmailed, cajoled, whichever you prefer,, and is now being feminised. He has quite girlish and pretty features ( Yes.... I know, how very convenient) and these women have little difficulty in transforming his face into an extremely feminine one.

This film has had a very strong influence on me, so much so that when I look at various scenes from the film I can almost transport myself into the same room.

As usual many thanks to all those who commented and who ticked the “more” box as always I really appreciate your support. Thanks also to the readers who ticked the “not interesting “ box, I’m not at all thin-skinned about my writing so no problems there, I may have rambled a bit in that chapter and it may not have been to everyone’s taste but I really appreciate your honesty and the fact you took the effort to register your feelings. Maybe the story is going on too long and getting a bit boring, the death knell for any story so I’ll have a think about that.

Finally thank you to the Anon commenter who gave such a wonderfully detailed account of a meeting between Alice and Lady Charlotte and how best the young man’s education should proceed. I should imagine the open display of these implements of correction would have a very chastening effect on the poor boy and would prove to be an excellent aide memoire enabling him to keep his mind focused on improving his feminine persona.

Thank you for your contribution I’m sure readers enjoyed it as much as I did.

I hope you enjoy the short story below.

Take care.

Carrie

Intermission

As the nurse completed her client’s final treatment she gave him words of encouragement.

“Oh do stop crying young man. You are shortly to become a housemaid to one of the most graceful and elegant ladies, you should be grateful. Life as a domestic servant in Miss Dreadlock’s household will be a most rewarding one.”

“But....I....”he blubbered, his body was still adjusting to the hormones and his mind had been in a fog from the first day he had entered the facility. He was able to understand everything that had been done to him but due to the medication was unable to physically resist.

“If you don’t stop your constant whining I will have to report you to Matron..and you know what that will mean.” she said abruptly and brought her hand down sharply on the cheeks of his now plump and womanly behind before saying absentmindedly  “Perhaps we have given you too much oestrogen.”

The threat worked and he stopped immediately.

“That’s better, your new mistress will not be as lenient if you keep acting like a silly girl.” she said before returning to her theme “Now as I was saying it is a beautiful house, you will have a nice room and Miss Deadlock always ensures her maids are dressed in the most stylish uniforms.

The boy buried his head in the pillow, stifled his tears and tried to arrange the two full and fleshy mounds of his new breasts underneath him.  Not for the first time he cursed his stupidity for getting himself into this dreadful situation.

Life as a domestic servant, he repeated to himself as he forced back the tears  a..... uniformed housemaid.

“Lily have you got his foundation wear and lingerie ready.” the nurse asked the female servant girl who was standing nearby “Miss Deadlock’s car will be here shortly to take him.”

“Yes Nurse.” the maid replied as she laid down a small stack of neatly folded clothing on the table next to the treatment couch “Miss Deadlock’s secretary sent the list yesterday, he is to wear a white high-waisted girdle, the one with the satin panels, a long line bra, an oyster coloured silk slip, tan stockings and three inch black patent court shoes.”

“And his uniform?” the nurse asked.

“It’s the morning uniform Nurse.” the maid answered “light grey uniform dress with a traditional white apron and cap. Miss Deadlock has his other uniforms waiting for him.”

“What beautiful lingerie for a housemaid.” the nurse said as she held up the delicate slip“I do hope you appreciate what a lucky young man you are to have such a kind and considerate mistress.”

He felt his stomach lurch as the maid held up the satin panelled girdle.

He was still in a daze as the female chauffeur ushered him down the steps of the facility and towards a gleaming silver Daimler.

“So you’re the new maid.” she laughed contemptuously as she looked at the mortified young man dressed in the maid’s uniform, “Madam said she was acquiring a new male servant but I didn’t think it would be as a housemaid.”

The youth blushed furiously and could not meet her eyes, he fingered his apron nervously as she circled him her eyes scanning every inch of him.

“Embarrassed eh?” she sneered “I think you should be, here I am – a girl wearing trousers and you a .... well I was going to say a man but  there can’t be very many males wearing a dress or should I say a maid’s uniform. But then again looking at your figure I suppose you’re not much of a male now anyway.”

He desperately wanted to explain that this was all a dreadful mistake but could not find his voice.

 The chauffeur moved a little closer, he froze as she lifted his uniform at the knee to reveal his silk slip, she laid her hand on his thigh and fingered the girdle’s suspender strap.

“Not exactly what a man would wear, now is it?”she snorted derisively as she moved her hand over the satin slip caressing his inner thigh “It is very pretty though and you do have a nice figure for a boy although that’s probably because of your tight girdle. You are wearing a girdle aren’t you?”

Unable to respond through a combination of fear and shame he could only nod and continued to fix his eyes on the ground.

“Cat got your tongue?” she taunted him but there was no reply “Not surprised, the idea of becoming a domestic servant and having to wear  a maid’s uniform would be so demeaning  .....and I’m a real girl.”

This only served to deepen his shame and he wanted to run but his legs would not move and besides he knew there was nowhere to run to.

“I suppose you know there a name for boys like you, “she sniggered “you’re what we like to call a .......”  but before she had a chance to finish the sentence the nurse from the facility appeared with an envelope and had a brief conversation with the chauffeur.

“Get in.” the chauffeur said in a businesslike tone as she held the back door open “Madam wants us to see you as soon as possible.”

The young man was relieved that this dreadful conversation was now at an end and he climbed inside the roomy interior of the car, he was grateful that there was a sliding glass panel between the front and back so there would not be a resumption of the chauffeur’s taunting. Throughout the short journey he tried to reflect on the sheer stupidity of his actions which had resulted in this bizarre situation but was constantly distracted by the unfamiliar pinching of bra straps and the constrictive nature of the girdle he had been forced to wear.

As the car pulled up outside the imposing townhouse he felt his stomach tighten, something he could not blame this on the girdle. The last time he entered this house he strode up the steps with all the self-confidence that a young man of his background invariably possessed- now he would be entering through the servants entrance dressed as a housemaid.

“Madam says you are to wait here in the hall until she rings for you, she is in the library.” the chauffeur said as she showed him into the large reception hall and pointed to the library door, he almost jumped as she slyly stroked his derriere and quietly added  “I’m sure I’ll be seeing more of you. I think I’m beginning to take a liking to feminised males.”

It wasn’t long before the tinny sound of a servants bell rang. He swallowed hard and looked down at his uniform and without even thinking he straightened his apron, his heart raced as he knocked on the door.

“Ah there you are!” the voice of Miss Deadlock rang out, he almost stuck to the floor as he noticed two other women standing next to her, her sharp voice rang out from across the room “Don’t dawdle boy, come here.”

“So this is the young man?” the older of the two women said as he timidly made his way to the table they were standing at.

“Very impressive, he does look quite feminine, those breasts are so lifelike. ” the younger woman said as her eyes inspected every inch of the youth standing in front of them “ may I?”

“Of course. And the reason they are lifelike is because they really are.” Miss Deadlock said in self-satisfied tone as the woman stepped forward and squeezed his left breast.

He had done this to many servant girls without asking and never once considered what the effects of his action caused. Now he knew. He burned with shame as he felt her hand clasp his new and fleshy bosom.

“Yes very nice.” she said smiling as she looked him in the eye.

He jumped and let out a squeal as he felt his buttocks being held in a strong grip.

“And his behind is so ...well rounded.” the older woman said as her hand grabbed the fleshy cheeks before gently caressing them.

“Yes the clinic has done a wonderful job, and once he is trained properly will make a wonderful servant.” Miss Deadlock said and she turned her attention to the young man once more “these ladies are my attorneys and have drawn up the necessary documents that were stipulated under our .....our... ahem...arrangement. After one year you will have fulfilled your obligations and will be free to leave providing of course you do not accumulate too many penalties for misdemeanours.”

The young man’s head was spinning, through the fog inside his brain he urgently tried to recall the events that had led to this outlandish state of affairs. Fragments danced in front of his eyes and although he could not piece everything together he vaguely recalled his foolhardy behaviour was responsible for the state he now found himself in. 

What did I do? Were there police involved? he asked himself in an anguished  and increasingly desperate internal voice.

 “Sign here.” the older woman said sharply thrusting a pen into his hands and arousing him from his thoughts.

He looked at the woman blankly and then turned to Miss Deadlock. His hesitancy was immediately noticed by the younger woman.

“Perhaps you would like Miss Deadlock to process this through the formal channels.” she said her pale blue eyes fixing him with a steely stare, “and I suspect you know what that will entail.”

He suddenly had a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t know what that would entail but he instinctively knew it would not be pleasant. Without replying he signed the document.

“A very wise decision young man.” the older woman said and handed the pen to Miss Deadlock who with a flourish of her slender wrist added her signature.

“I...what does....”he babbled.

“You are now the indentured maidservant to Miss Deadlock.” the younger woman as she sealed the document “you will be employed as her maid for one year after which you will be free to leave unless of course you fail in your obligations to your mistress.”

“You are a very lucky young man.” the older woman said “only for the kindness of your mistress you would have been in a great deal of trouble. She has invested a great deal of time and effort in you and I sincerely hope you will repay her with obedience and loyalty – the hallmarks of a grateful servant girl.”

 A year as......... a maidservant. The words thundered inside his head.

“Oh by the way have you chosen a suitable name for him?” the older woman asked Miss Deadlock.

“Not yet.” Miss Deadlock answered “for the moment I will just call him..... Girl, until I decide on an appropriate name, perhaps we can discuss it over tea.”

“An excellent idea.” the younger woman said before turning to the young man.“You heard your mistress ...girl.”

As the uniformed young man made his way to the door he heard one of the women say

“I really did not believe he would accept his fate as easily as that, I honestly thought a man would have baulked at the idea of a year as an indentured maidservant.”

“You would be surprised the effect of wearing a dress has on even the most assertive of males” Miss Deadlock replied as she smoothed her skirt before adding “ and of course a maid’s uniform is even more emasculating  and ensures his subjugation from the moment he puts it on.”

As he reached the door the young man looked at the three women and felt a surge of anger rise inside him but just as he opened his mouth Miss Deadlock snapped in an authoritative voice

“What are you loitering for girl? Run along and fetch our tea.”

Underneath his grey uniform his fully fashioned stockinged knees went weak and his voice faltered as he answered,

“Yes Madam.”

A Very Victorian Education Chapter 7

I thought I would have had this chapter finished sooner but it took much longer than I had expected, getting a few hours together to  write is becoming more and more difficult -so thanks for your patience. As always, I am grateful to those who were kind enough to comment and also to those who ticked the more box, it’s great to know that people share a similar taste to mine and enjoy what I post.

It’s wonderful to see readers like Guinevere’s debut piece, not an easy thing to put your own work in front of the public so I’m delighted it’s got a positive reaction and rightly so because it’s a really good story.

I’m not really sure if this chapter will live up to your expectations as it probably goes on too long (I rewrote it twice and I’m still not sure it’s right- nothing new about that I suppose) but as usual I have no clear-cut plan for Aubrey and as such this process tends to take on a life of its own.

The poor boy is suffering so much I may put him out of his misery quite soon.

I’ve only had the chance to re-read t this once and I think I’ve caught and corrected all the typos and other errors if not apologies, so hopefully you’ll enjoy this chapter and the accompanying illustration.

Take care.

Carrie

A Very Victorian Education

Chapter 7

I see it all perfectly; there are two possible situations- one can either do this or that. My honest opinion is this: do it or do not do it – you will regret both. 

Soren Kierkegaard

 Sleep had now become Aubrey St Clair’s best friend, his place of refuge, free from a world where he was now subjected to a humiliation that no youth should ever have to endure. It was in this unconscious state that for a few hours each day he could escape the reality of his new life, a life that bore no resemblance to that of any other young man. For these few hours he lay peacefully in the  embrace of Hypnos, here  he could gain a little but by no means total respite from the persecution of female clothing, from silk chemises and restricting corsets to rustling petticoats and satin gowns.  For these were the feminine garments he was now forced to wear on a daily basis. Mortifying as wearing these clothes were, it was only one aspect of his torment, being subjected to the authority of a Governess who revelled in what she referred to as Petticoat Discipline was even more  of a humiliation.  To add insult to injury this horrible state of affairs was being played out in front of the exclusively female domestic staff all of whom were well aware of the plight and discomfort of their mistress’s guest and took every opportunity to subtly add to his ignominy with their barely disguised snide and sarcastic remarks.  This bizarre and outrageous turn of events had been instigated by Lady Charlotte de Winter who just very recently had been installed in locum parentis by his mother while she was away visiting relatives.

 While asleep however, he was free of these torments and he looked forward to entering this blissful state but even before he could avail of this temporary relief he had to undergo a ghastly night-time beauty regimen- which his Governess had informed him - every lady regardless of age had to adhere to. But sleep never came quickly enough, the soft folds of his silk nightgown enveloping his body acted a reminder of the loss of his masculinity. This night like all the others since his arrival in this house he laid awake tossing and turning, watching the shafts of light from the streetlamps move across the ceiling as he tried to block out some of the worst excesses of recent days. He really could not decide which part of his day was the most mortifying.

“Why do they have to oversee every part of my life?” he said quietly to himself as he recalled the almost military-like ceremony that took place every night before he was allowed to retire.

This always began by stripping him to his chemise before his hair, which was almost shoulder length (a fashion choice he now deeply regretted), was brushed one hundred times by one of the maids after which she would then supervise him as he moisturised his hands  with scented lotion for several minutes. He was then instructed to sit in front of the dressing table mirror and apply various creams and balms to his face, a procedure he was assured would greatly benefit his skin. The maid always took great care in instructing him how to best to perform this routine and despite her obvious amusement she nevertheless took her duties very seriously and was most conscientious in helping him carry out this process. A different maid would attend him each evening and each servant had a similar yet distinct approach, Hilda was very businesslike and forceful when she brushed his hair whereas Sarah and Rita were less overbearing and though remaining quite formal they did show him a little kindness. 

Much as he hated to admit it he did enjoy having his hair brushed particularly by Sarah who was always gentle while using the solid silver brushes and when his Governess was absent for a few moments she seemed most sympathetic to his predicament. He squirmed with pleasure at this recollection, his hands ran over the extremely soft silk material of his nightgown and he writhed with what he knew was an extremely shameful pleasure. This made him blush with guilt and he was glad the lamps had been extinguished. These sensations also triggered a conflict in the boy’s head and he felt a rational male voice inside struggling to gain ascendency over the sensuous current running through his body.

“Idiot!” the inner male voice barked. “You are beginning to like the feeling of this material, no man should enjoy this ultra-feminine material caressing their body- you are being pulled into their feminine orbit. Get a grip-It is vital for the sake of your very masculinity that you resist these temptations.”

“But I am.” he replied quietly, almost afraid that he was not alone and someone might hear him talking to himself.

“It doesn’t seem like that to me.” the reply came back “Lying there luxuriating in your silk and satin nightgown just like a girl and enjoying  having your hair brushed ...again like a girl. And another thing........”

Aubrey sighed as the masculine voice in his head raged on,

“You have showed almost no male pride, you should have resisted from the start. Remember that first night..... you could have least have tried ......”

Of course the voice was correct, he closed his eyes and recalled the events of recent nights.

       ***********************************************************************

He wasn’t sure if this particular occurrence was on the second or third night, his experiences since he arrived at this house had distorted his sense of time but in reality- what did that matter now? All that now mattered was that he should strive to retain some semblance of his masculinity while giving the impression that he was conforming to Lady Charlotte’s aspirations for him and his Governess’s enforcement of her perverted desires. Lady Charlotte had enacted a fiendish scheme which robbed him of his male strength and he was now physically incapable of resisting these women as they forced him to dress and behave like a female.  

The most humiliating of these nights began as usual,he had gone through the ritual of moisturising and then cleansing his skin, removing all traces of the lotions with a soft cotton cloth. He tried to stand up and make his way to the bed but Hilda firmly kept him seated at the dressing table, her strong hand on his shoulder easily restraining him..

“Not so fast young man.” Alice, his Governess, said sharply as she signalled to Hilda “You should know by now that your hair needs to be brushed the before retiring for the night. You seem to be forgetting some of the basic principles of the feminine beauty regimen. Now tell me how many times should a lady’s hair be brushed before bed?”

Perplexed and more than a little unnerved by his Governess’s brusque reprimand the boy desperately tried to remember what he had been told about this particular part of his nightly ritual.

“I ...ah ... emm. ..I  ”he stammered.

Alice momentarily closed her eyes and gently shook her head from side to side in an unmistakable demonstration of her dismay, deep inside he knew he had committed some obscure offence. He felt a familiar panic begin to take hold. After looking at the forlorn boy for what seemed like an age his Governess finally addressed him.

“Oh dear.” Alice sighed, the sound of disappointment in her voice was clearly evident. “After all my efforts I really had hoped you would have absorbed at least the most elementary aspects of a young lady’s hair and beauty regimen. I fear you have not learned anything under my tutelage and furthermore you are either being extremely lazy regarding your lessons or being deliberately obstinate, her ladyship would be most displeased if this was the case.”

“Some of them tend to rebel after a day or two Miss Alice.” Hilda added unhelpfully before he had time to defend himself.

Both women pressed closer, so close that that the sound of his Governess’s rustling petticoats overwhelmed his aural senses. Even now, as fearful as he was and much to his eternal shame, he knew her accusation that he had not learned anything was false. During the many arduous hours in her company he had been subjected to the sound of her -and as much as he hated to admit- his own swishing petticoats. He could now tell with the assured certainty of a natural female the material of a woman’s petticoats from the distinctive sounds made as she made her across the room. He even felt confident enough to accurately guess the number of petticoats worn by said female, this particular skill was acquired from knowledge Alice had implanted in him in lengthy lessons on female deportment and fashion. He wished he could  speak up and tell her this, but now as she stood beside him, the rich velvet of her gown distended by three petticoats of fine linen, silk and taffeta brushing against his silk chemise- he was once again lost for words. The last few days had taught him that if there was one thing worse than being dressed in female clothing in the presence of women it was being in a state of undress- attired in only a corset and chemise. He sat between the two imposing figures nervously fingering the silk material of his undergarment, a look of utter subjugation etched on his boyish face. There was not the merest hint of rebellion from the confused and bewildered young man, he so desperately wanted to tell her he had learned many lessons but his anxiety would not allow the words to form. His only thoughts now were to avoid any punishment that his Governess may wish to impose.

“But ....I’m....I’m...not....”he gulped

“Yes Hilda, they may be  inclined to resist the efforts of their tutors.” Alice agreed with the maid’s observations “but it changes nothing and only causes more unnecessary hardship for the poor darlings.”

Her fingers caressed his cheek as she tilted her head slightly and her eyes gazed intently into his.

“I do hope you are not one of those boys Aubrey? A boy who fails to heed his Governess? A boy who refuses the help and support to become a better person? ........A disobedient boy?”

“Oh no Miss Alice.” the fretful youth blurted, the panic swelling within him.

He was only too eager to please her as his mind immediately recalled his first day under her control when she had produced a horrible thin cane. She had said nothing but merely stroked it before laying it across the satin quilt on his bed. A very subtle message of course and one which was not lost on him, so much so that the image now loomed large inside his head.

“I am so glad to hear it.” she replied, giving him a gentle smile as she continued to stroke his cheek, however he was far from reassured by her smiling countenance as she quickly added “I find there is nothing more disagreeable than an unruly ..........girl...........”

She stopped for an instant, allowing the word ‘girl’ hang in the air before patting his cheek gently as if to emphasise her point before continuing.

“Yes.... an unruly and obstinate girl will severely test her Governess’s patience, such conduct in a young lady is most disappointing  .......naturally such behaviour should and must be discouraged. Do you know how I discourage such girls Aubrey?

From nowhere a cane appeared in Hilda’s hand, wordlessly she handed it to Alice who tapped it gently against her bulky skirts. The only sound to be heard in the room was the clock ticking and the gentle swhish of the cane against her skirts. He looked at the cane and a horrible vision immediately flashed into his brain. In his mind’s eye he could see himself  being forced to bend over the bed wearing nothing but his silk chemise, his face pressed into the satin quilt as his Governess applied several strokes of the cane to his buttocks with only the soft silk material of his chemise protecting them. He had been caned many times at his school and he could still hear the whistle of the cane as it whipped through the air and landing with the most fearsome crack on his bare flesh. The pain and humiliation were seared into his brain and such was his fear that he would do anything to avoid a repetition of the experience.

He gazed beseechingly at his Governess, the dread he now felt far outweighed the shame of being dressed as a girl and he was prepared to do or say anything to avoid such a painful and humiliating punishment. The words formed in his mouth.

“With the...the... cane , Miss Alice.” he said quietly as the sound of his heart beating in his chest now competed with the ticking of the clock.

“What a clever girl you are Aubrey.” she replied as he looked at her blankly, his eyes transfixed on the cane being gently tapped against her skirts. “I do hope you don’t mind me referring to you as a girl.”

He hesitated briefly, her eyes narrowed and the cane in her hand suddenly became more agitated. His knees became weak and he felt his heart quicken as he saw Hilda draw closer.

“Oh no... not at all Miss Alice.” he blurted.

“Excellent I’m so glad to hear that.” she said. “it will make things so much easier for all of us.”

The smile returned to Alice’s face, her head tilted slightly and her eyes widened a little as she fixed them on his with an intensity he had not experienced before.

“But I suppose the real question is.......... are you an obedient girl Aubrey?” she asked as she bent down and gently stroked his face with her handle of the cane. Her warm sweet breath wafted onto his face and her delicate floral perfume invaded his nostrils, both could sense the coup de grâce was imminent and utterly unavoidable.

Aubrey’s brain was in turmoil, he had hoped she would have been satisfied with the answer to her original question, mortifying as it was, and  finally put an end this ghastly interrogation. But no! his shameful admission only served to reinforce his position and sensing his vulnerability now required yet another  humiliating acknowledgement of his new status. It was indeed yet another horrible situation he now found himself in but the look in her eyes and the feel of the smooth cold cane on his face quickly persuaded him that shame and submission was by far preferable to the alternative. The only way to prevent a painful and ignominious punishment was to profess his submissiveness as her docile and feminised pupil.

“I am.....”he hesitated momentarily and swallowed hard before  continuing “.... an obedient girl Miss Alice.” he breathed, his dread of the cane yet again conquering the mortification he was enduring.

An unmistakable broad smile of satisfaction broke out across Alice’s handsome features, the same face which moments earlier had instilled panic and foreboding in the boy was now one of restrained triumph.

“I am delighted to hear you say this Aubrey.” Alice said softly, her voice now light and easy.The cane had already disappeared from view as quickly as it had appeared. His admission had its intended effect, the atmosphere the room was completely transformed as she continued “I... we all have become very fond of you and it would be such a great pity if there was some....unpleasantness. Now let’s get you ready for bed.”

The youth felt a surge relief as she withdrew with a rustle of petticoats and watched as she and Hilda busied themselves at one of the tallboys. After a minute or two Alice returned and took both his hands in her own and smiled gently at him.

“Your acceptance of your situation is most agreeable and shows a sign of your progress, I am impressed and as a gesture of my confidence in your new found commitment to changing your attitude I will allow you to choose your own nightwear.”

She gave him an encouraging smile and returned to join Hilda, his heart skipped a beat he could not believe his ears- finally he was to wear male clothing even if it was only a nightshirt. They actually believed what I said, maybe that’s all she wanted to hear the thought flashed through his mind and he quickly tried to revaluate his situation. He felt a measure of confidence return, now that he had managed to stave off her threats he tried to convince himself perhaps he really did not make such humiliating admissions and even if he had - they really did not mean anything.  Maybe if he continued to feign submission to her methods he may, just may, convince her and Lady Charlotte to abandon this outrageous and bizarre experiment and return his male clothing. Maybe now that Alice had humiliated him enough she would be content, maybe she and Lady Charlotte had realised he had been tormented enough, maybe his mother was returning tomorrow, maybe, maybe , maybe .....

“Come here Aubrey.” he heard his Governess say, rousing him from his thoughts.

He made his way to the bed and despite the soft silk of his chemise brushing against his legs his mood was a little lighter in the knowledge he would at last have some male clothing to wear, even if it was only a nightshirt.

As he arrived at the bed both women parted and his face fell. Spread out on the deep satin quilt was not a masculine nightshirt but several unmistakably feminine nightgowns, one more feminine than the other.

“What’s wrong Master Aubrey don’t you like them?”  Hilda asked a sly smile creasing her mouth. “They are simply gorgeous, her ladyship’s favourites.”

Aubrey was speechless, these are Lady Charlotte’s nightgowns. He stood there gazing at the ultra- feminine nightwear, his mouth wide open as his brain tried to process this unexpected turn of events.

“But.. I ....I ....thought I...you said....I mean.....”he babbled.

“Oh you thought you were to choose male nightwear?” his Governess interrupted his gibberish “whatever made you think that......you silly girl!  Before that can happen we will require a lot of convincing that you have changed your ways, jettisoned your abrasive and macho personality...and acquired a more feminine perspective. Naturally we hope you will come to this conclusion  of your own volition  and through the education you are receiving, just now I thought you were progressing but perhaps I was wrong and you require a more........ physical approach. Should I have Hilda fetch the cane?”

 “Oh ..no ..I was just.....I thought.....”he blubbered, he could feel his heart racing and his palms beginning to sweat as the spectre of the cane was raised once more “I am progressing Miss Alice....I really am.”

His Governess gazed at him intently and he felt as if her eyes were burrowing into his mind and reading his thoughts.

“You really should be grateful and honoured that her ladyship is allowing you to wear one of her beautiful nightgowns.” Alice said, not taking her eyes off him.

The threat of the cane was now paramount in Aubrey’s mind and his priorities had changed once more to avoiding being bent over and trashed by this imposing figure.

“Oh I am grateful.” he quickly replied, putting every ounce of sincerity into his voice.

“Mmm I wonder ?” Alice said not sounding too convinced but her face did not carry that dark look it had earlier and she motioned to the bed “Very well I suppose I will give you the benefit of the doubt, now choose your nightgown. Her ladyship says she would like to see you before you retire for the night.”

 Standing in his chemise Aubrey knew that he if he did not display sufficient enthusiasm in choosing his nightgown he would suffer the consequences. As he was now doing on a daily basis he swallowed his pride and approached the bed where the maid had laid out three nightgowns with matching peignoirs. So as not to arouse his Governess’s suspicion he studied the garments and held them up to his body and tried to display sufficient enthusiasm to assure Alice he was a reformed character. He finally choose what he thought was the least worst option- a simple silk nightgown with pale blue lace at the bodice and hem and the most hideously wide sleeves.

“I think this one is really nice.” he lied and for good measure added “it’s a lovely colour.”

“Hmmm....” Alice mused, her eyes scanning him for signs of insincerity “what do you think Hilda?”

 “An understandable choice Miss Alice, it is very pretty,” the maid answered as she inspected his preferred garment but he noticed her eyes were drawn to one of the others, she picked one up and presented it to Alice “However I think this salmon pink satin one would suit the young master so much better. It has a much better cut around the bosom, don’t you think?........ and the yards of heavy duchesse satin ....well...... it would be impossible not to feel extremely feminine in such a beautiful nightgown.”

Aubrey’s heart sank, of all of them it was the one he most wanted to avoid.

“My thoughts exactly Hilda.” Alice agreed and her eyes met his.

He knew immediately his plan to avoid the hideously feminine nightgown had been easily detected by both women and worse still his attempted deception had caused a crimson glow to appear in his cheeks.

His Governess’s eyes burrowed deep inside him. The room was quiet the only sound was the clock ticking as loud as a military drum beat.

“I ...em...it is ....” he tried to backtrack, his voice stumbling over his words.

“How could you not choose this one!” Alice said in an inquisitorial tone “I do hope you are not merely giving us the impression you have changed your ways – just to fob us off.”

“Oh no Miss Alice, it’s just that I was too hasty in choosing.” he said earnestly, it was a statement that was largely true as he was now extremely fearful he would incur her displeasure and her dreaded cane. “I’m just not used to choosing between such beautiful garments.”

“Perhaps you have a point.” Alice answered “but you should be aware that if I even suspect you are not genuinely attempting to change your attitude and commit fully to Lady Charlotte’s programme I will know it. The male’s ability to mislead and deceive the female sex is greatly diminished once he is stripped of his clothing and petticoated.”

Petticoated! The word hung in the air and echoed in his brain.

Petticoated- He silently repeated the word.  It was a horrid, dreadful and an excruciatingly demeaning phrase to be used about a male, if you were that male of course. Naturally he had heard the term before and even knew of a few boys who were subjected to the ghastly process. Indeed, he had laughed derisively at the very idea of a male being forced into women’s clothes. It was a preposterous notion and any male who allowed this to happen to him deserved to wear – just like his newly acquired petticoats -this badge of shame and humiliation. Like his friends he mocked and ridiculed these youths but deep inside there was always a deep anxiety that one day he may become the victim of such a appalling and nightmarish procedure.

This had now come to pass and he really was living this nightmare. And out of this nightmare his Governess’s voice called out brusquely.

“We are waiting.”

“The pink one” Aubrey said weakly, his eyes fixed on the floor “I would like to wear the pink satin one Miss Alice”

“A wise choice.” Alice replied before addressing the maid “strip and milk him before her ladyship arrives. It would be most unfortunate if he could not control his male clitoris, it would cause serious embarrassment to the mistress.”

Hilda stepped forward and led him to the bed, he remained still as she removed his chemise over his head. He knew what was about to happen but also knew it would be useless to protest. She sat him on the bed and looking him directly in the eyes fondled  and gently squeezed his sexual organs with her soft right hand, he was powerless to halt his member from growing and when it had attained its full glory Hilda began squeezing it gently with a soft satin quilted mitten. It only took a matter of seconds before he erupted into the glove, she expertly drained every drop and cleaned the residue. The entire shameful episode was over within a minute.

“So little self control.”Alice sneered.

“Typical of the male sex.” Hilda agreed in a disdainful voice as she inspected his penis to ensure it was completely dry before disposing of the soiled mitten.

Aubrey was completely subdued and obeyed the maid’s instructions as she slipped the heavy satin over his head and helped his arms through the sleeves of the nightgown.

“Now once more, how many times should a girl have her hair brushed before retiring for the night?” Alice asked sharply.

“One hundred Miss.” he answered quickly.

“Excellent.”Alice trilled before instructing the maid, “Proceed Hilda.”

The maid led him back to the dressing table and began brushing his hair with long steady strokes as he called out the number and a broad smirk broke out across her face as she performed her task with obvious glee.

After the hundredth stroke she stopped , quickly and expertly she pulled his hair tightly into a bun. He watched as the figure of his Governess appeared behind him in the mirror’s reflection and gasped with horror as she produced the most hideous item.  It was a frilled pink satin hair bonnet she then proceeded to place it over his head and tie it securely with an intricate knot. He was unable to conceal his feeling of absolute horror.

“Yes it is such a wonderfully prissy garment.” Alice said “but most effective for keeping one’s hair in the proper and correct position. I suppose it also has the added feature of reminding the wearer of just how feminine she is.”

As he knew only too well any resistance to wearing this awful item would be futile and would merely serve to inflict further and more painful punishment. He could only drop his eyes in shame as Alice continued,

“You must remember what I said earlier, once divested of their clothing males tend to lose the ability to deceive the female sex. You should be aware  I can hear it in a male’s voice when he is lying,  I can almost smell their deceit- yes, even when I am not in the same room so you have to be extremely clever to fool me, young man. Of course I really should punish you with the cane but I am not completely hard hardhearted nevertheless you really need to be taught a lesson, so you will wear this feminine headwear as yet another symbol of your subjugation to the rule of the petticoat.”

As she adjusted the dreadful bonnet she informed him it was to remain in place for the duration of the night perhaps even longer if she was not satisfied he had learned his lesson, he was told in no uncertain terms that if this item was interfered with his punishment would be more severe . He could see that the knot the maid had tied was so unusual that he would never be able to replicate it correctly so he could not remove it even for a short time without being detected by his Governess. He would be forced to wear the dreadful bonnet throughout the night to keep his hair securely in position, naturally he felt this was a totally demeaning for a young man and he actually felt like crying – but then again everything he was now forced to wear was designed to be humiliating. As if he had not endured enough humiliation for one evening the maid steered him to the full length mirror where he could view the ghastly sight for himself.

“Splendid!” a familiar voice called out from across the room.

He had not heard the door open, the majestic figure of Lady Charlotte glided into the mirror’s reflection the sound of her petticoats rustling like autumn leaves under her navy taffeta gown.

“Such an adorable vision!” she cooed clasping her hands to her breast “I just wish I could get Felicity to wear something so sweet...so darling.”

“Aubrey.” Alice said in a slightly brusque tone of voice.

With the threat of further punishment still echoing in his head the boy knew exactly what was expected of him and taking both sides of his nightgown in his hands he curtsied.

“Thank you Lady Charlotte.”

“Your Governess tells me you are making progress and gaining knowledge of the feminine domain.” she said smiling at the ridiculously clad male figure she then turned to Alice and continued “he is familiar with all aspects of dressing and undressing?”

“Yes m’lady.” Alice replied “As he will be wearing female clothing for the immediate future I have instructed him such matters including the basic procedures  in how to button and unbutton a gown as well as lacing a corset. Obviously he requires much more time to become as proficient as a natural female or a lady’s maid but he has potential and with time I’m sure it will become second nature.”

“Very impressive Alice” Lady Charlotte said as Alice curtsied, glowing in the praise of her mistress. Lady Charlotte turned once more to Aubrey and slipped her arm under his “I really must hear more of how you are progressing, my dear. My maid is away for the evening and it would be a wonderful opportunity to put your new knowledge into practice. I’m sure you don’t mind undertaking her duties and helping me undress and prepare for bed.”  

Aubrey was lost for words and looked to his Governess for guidance. Alice merely smiled and said

“Make sure you lift the skirts of your nightgown, we don’t want you to trip and make a fool of yourself.”

With her arm now firmly linked to his Lady Charlotte gently guided him towards the door.

“Shall I wait here and put him to bed after you have finished with him m’lady.” Alice said as they reached the bedroom door.

“That won’t be necessary Alice.” Lady Charlotte said as she noisily gathered her bulky skirts “there are certain aspects of his education that I should like to take care of personally.......and in a more intimate setting.”

“I understand perfectly m’lady” his Governess answered

The boy noticed a knowing smile begin to form at the corners of Alice’s mouth and a look of barely suppressed amusement on Hilda’s face. As he contemplated what this meant he felt Lady Charlotte’s arm steer him out of the room.

“Now come along Aubrey my dear, you have a lot to learn and I am just the woman to teach you.”

Story from Guinevere including new illustration

I’m just back from vacation and trying to get started on the next chapter of AVVE which I hope to have finished in a few weeks. Many thanks to all who ticked the “more box” I really appreciate your support.

Several weeks ago I was e mailed by Guinevere, who has been kind enough to comment favourably on AVVE and he/she – apologies never sure which pronoun to use – sent me the rough draft of a short story to read. Guinevere is fluent in English but it is not his/her first language ( but it’s much better than some of my own Irish friends), anyway a long story short he/she asked if I would identify and change any grammatical/idiomatic inaccuracies (why I don’t know as I’m crap at this) and considering posting it.

I did this to the best of my ability making only minor changes to the text, so the story below is approx 90% unchanged from Guinevere's original.

It can be a bit daunting putting your own work out there for people to read for the first time and even more so when it’s not in your native language. Bea encouraged me to post my stuff so it’s great to be able to do the same for someone else.  I hope readers will be supportive for Guinevere’s contribution to the blog. I hope you enjoy it.

The story is in two parts and I’ve added and illustration for the second part of the story at the end.

Carrie 

An Edwardian Tale.

By

Guinevere

 Dear reader,

To the innocent passer-by The Lady Marsha School for Girls is an exclusive boarding-school for the progeny of the upper classes. However we do know that within its formidable walls erstwhile boys are trained in the arts of femininity by formidable tutors. Far away from prying eyes are these troublesome sons of the aristocracy, now de-maled and provided with a whole new feminine identity. Since there is no longer need for their boyish garments they are distributed amongst the poor. Surgery of all kinds, hormone treatments, medication and long hours of the most rigorous feminine training help them to accept that they will never mature into manhood. In the words of one of the nurses: "once the last vestige of their masculinity has been surgically erased, their drawers will fit them better". A most interesting observation, indeed!

The new pupils of this establishment learn to dress, walk, talk, sit and comport themselves as young ladies. Encouraged to take an interest in fine needlework, music, painting, drawing and most importantly the latest fashions from Paris these boys are guided towards an elegant and feminine future. After a lengthy period of comprehensive education in the art of femininity most of these students will, like any natural born school girl, look forward to exchanging their austere black uniform for a more becoming frock. Of course there are a few pupils who stubbornly resist their training and these miscreants require a more intensive program. Dressed in fashion of years gone by or more contemporary garments, they attend local soirees to practise their social graces- under stringent supervision of course.

Naturally the school has a highly qualified equestrian instructor, a strict lady of mature years who teaches her pupils to ride their mounts in a graceful and ladylike manner. Dear reader, as mentioned a newcomer may resist this feminine schooling at first but be assured within six months the recalcitrant youth will have accepted his new life with grace and decorum- on the surface at least, for who knows what residual male stubbornness is suppressed beneath his corsetry and layers of silk and satin petticoats. Where he once fought against the tyranny of the corset this one time rebellious youth will now gladly urge a maid to lace his stays even tighter in order to compete for the smallest waist with the other new girls.

The head-mistress of the school can always tell if a new arrival has been educated by an efficient governess or left in the care of a male tutor. For, the first is properly dressed, wearing a becoming frock, whilst the latter is still burdened by his male garb. A boy who is raised by a strict governess as a girl is familiar with corsets and while not comfortable is compliant- as one would expect from a girl of his age.  He will consider it normal that is raised to become a young lady and his growing spine will have been kept in the correct posture. At the school will he continue to spend time lying upon a rigid back-board, to correct the habit of stooping. In the words of the head-mistress: "young ladies are never born, but always made". A new young lady must not stoop, must always hold her head erect whilst sitting or standing; the head and chest must be upright. Straight-backed chairs, backboards as well as other ingenious devices have been invented to prevent these newly feminised boys from reverting to the lax attitudes of repose dictated by their lazy and slothful male nature.

On meeting a mother for the first time the headmistress is fond of telling the lady that great emphasis is placed on deportment and during vacation it is vital that mother, governesses and indeed maidservants should ensure that the boy’s posture is maintained to the standard that not only the school demands but polite society requires of young ladies of breeding. Indeed on one occasion the head mistress was overheard telling a group of mothers:

“One of our pupils was found to develop weak legs and is now subjected to electrical treatment, and with considerable success. At his mother's request has now a device been developed to straighten her new daughter's nose. This has already resulted in the most delightful nose. We are living in a wonderful age, where boys no longer have to suffer from their birth".  

Dear reader, there is so much boys have to learn nothing seems to come natural to them, at least nothing of significant moral rectitude or respect for the female sex. A boy is conditioned to hide his feelings and even after a harsh chastisement he will do his utmost to pretend that nothing has happened and contrary to human nature he will only reluctantly shed the occasional tear. However bitter tears will inevitably flow when this same boy is laced into his first corset or when he sees small bumps on his chest. Some of them will even wake up in the middle of the night and cry uncontrollably. It is said that those most suitable for improvement resist the changes, fortunately due in no small measure to the education at the hands of their schoolmistresses they soon assimilate girlish ways and may even cry about a broken fingernail or a stain in a dress. It is accepted among the teaching staff that these boys are very privileged to live in a time and age where a youth can be surgically altered and trained in the feminine arts. Schooled to be promenade in becoming frocks, make delicate feminine hand-gestures, perform a flawless curtsy, and very importantly for a young lady- how to handle a parasol properly. I believe a parasol is the hallmark of every lady, unfortunately most new girls are so ungainly that they handle their parasol as if it was a fishing rod. In their final year all of them have become familiar with corsets, crinolines and bustles. They have changed beyond recognition and I have been reliably informed now that their troublesome nature has all but disappeared even their own mothers have difficulty in recognising them at their graduation. Naturally now that they have passed into the feminine realm like proper young ladies do they no longer have to share a maid with their sisters, but have a lady’s maid of their own. When they come home, a lady’s maid will be waiting for them, a complete new wardrobe, jewellery, and a well schooled horse.... 

Two years earlier...............

Dear reader, it is the sad duty of the head-groom to inform the young master that his horse has been stolen. 

The young master runs upstairs to his room, slams the door and in a most unmanly manner cries himself to sleep. The next morning he tells his stepmother that he is willing to do "anything", just to get his horse back. One week later his stepmother has a surprise for him and it has something to do with horses.....The boy looks down from his bedroom window, and is overjoyed when he recognises his horse but it has a side-saddle and when he rushes down to greet it he is informed that the police found his mount but without his own saddle. Needless to say that Julian is overcome with joy however he is reminded he has made his stepmother a promise. He has told her that he is willing do to anything to get his beloved horse back. Dear reader, it's the word "anything" that we must not forget. For as we have read elsewhere every obedient boy, is a new girl in the making.

Mrs. Fitzwilliam-Jones always wanted to have a second daughter. Thus, when the opportunity presents itself to humiliate her step-son, she does not hesitate. She asks her stepson, if he would like to ride out with her daughter. My, the young gentleman is in for a surprise. For, when he returns from his bath to change into a riding outfit, he finds a fashionable riding habit on his bed. He cannot believe his eyes and stammers that only females wear a riding-habit and stamps his foot in a most ungrateful manner and screams that he would rather die than to be seen in such attire. His stepmother has to remind him that he has made her a promise and a gentleman's word is his bond.

“I declare, you are most fortunate, most fortunate, indeed, that we have a spare side-saddle. However, you must wear a riding -habit. A respectable young lady can't be seen without a fashionable riding-habit on horseback however this riding-habit will not fit you, without a riding-corset, henceforth you shall also wear a corset. Disobey me and you may rest assure that you'll never see your horse again. Well, what is it to be?”

 His stepsister, who had already changed into her riding- habit and had gone to find out what was delaying her step-brother, stood in the door opening pulling on her gloves, amused at Julian's panic. As to be expected once confronted with this reality he offers little or no resistance.

He is assisted with his stockings, drawers, under-skirt and chemise, before the maids encase him in a heavy, short riding-corset. Martha and Betty, two strong maids made short work of Julian's lacing. When they threaded the laces of the shoulder straps the boy made some little gasps of protest, possibly because he was being deprived of most of his breath. Betty said to Martha: "if he is like this when being laced into a short riding-corset, what he will be like when he begins to wear a longer, training corset? His mother told the maids not to unduly disturb the young gentleman. Whilst adding: "Miss Julia, will get used to corsets, Betty added with a sly smile "we all have". Now carry on, we don't have all day, you know.”

 Mrs. Fitzwilliam-Jones watched as the maids proceeded to expertly lace her delicate stepson into his first corset.The riding-corset followed by a corset-cover of fine linen and a satin blouse with long sleeves. A big light grey satin cravat was tightly tied around his neck. Betty helped him with the long wide skirt of fine black cheviot and the small tightly cut jacket. It fitted him perfectly.

Two grooms were already waiting for the young ladies showing proper respect with their caps in hand. Miss Victoria told them to help Miss Julia, first. The groom, helped the young lady on the saddle, and then arranged her riding-skirt, to protect her modesty. Mrs. Fitzwilliam-Jones would later write to her best friend, Lady Victoria Barnwell-Smith. "Julian looked absolutely marvellous, if a trifle masculine, with his black top hat. He looked quite feminine, with his hour-glass silhouette, the long full skirt and the veiled hat. Victoria, he really should have been born a girl, you know."

Reluctantly but inescapably Julian becomes entangled in a web of femininity. He may ride his horse but only side-saddle and at all times dressed appropriately. Needless to mention, that he is always accompanied by a groom. For despite his diminutive and elegant appearance his commanding control of the horse is the object of admiring gazes of young men. Julian, is always told to ignore these young gentlemen, standing near the rails, as one would expect from a respectable young lady. I have it on the very best authority that he will soon attend a special school for new girls. My, "The Lady Marsha School for Girls", is a fine establishment of female learning. One can only imagine the joy of a mother, when she is informed that her erstwhile son is developing in all the right places. Such a mother has completely different plans for the future.

The End.