I’d thought I’d have this story finished much sooner than this but as with all of us, life manages to interrupt our plans on a regular basis.
It’s quite long and I’ve only skimmed through it for typos, grammatical errors etc so apologies if any were missed.
Hopefully you will have a happy, safe and peaceful Christmas.
Take care
Carrie
Reputational Damage
By
CarrieP
|
I |
t was whilst employed temporarily as a chauffeur to the Duchess of Lismore in order to secure the necessary funds to continue his nursing studies that Vivian had first encountered Mrs. Cynthia Goodwood, a friend of Her Grace from America who had been invited to stay for several weeks at the Duchess’s country residence. However, in a most unfortunate turn of events several days after the beginning of her vacation, Mrs Goodwood had injured herself in a riding accident and with limited and painful mobility was confined to the house. Under the circumstances it seemed most fortuitous to the Duchess to have someone in her employ with nursing experience that would be of immense assistance to her friend and was quite keen on the idea when she broached the subject with her new employee. The young man, however, was not as enthusiastic as he considered such a role beneath him and of the view the position would be more of a nursemaid than a nurse and better suited to a female. Of course, given the nature of his relationship and the need to retain his employment he did not state this explicitly. Naturally, Her Grace ignored his less than eager response and aware of his experience, albeit limited, of nursing members of the opposite sex previously continued to press her case, leaving him in no doubt that a refusal would not sit well with her. However, at the same time she indicated very directly that his acceptance of the role would be generously rewarded and favourably looked on with regard to future references.. Being a pragmatist young man he quickly concluded that the salary for his present position was essential for his future studies and losing it would be catastrophic so it was vital that he did not displease the Duchess, he was also acutely aware that a recommendation from such a well respected and well connected figure would open many doors in the future. He very soon realised he would be foolish to decline such a request and would be foolish to place ego above ambition. Suppressing his reluctance and misgivings he swallowed his pride and feigning his gratitude he accepted the post.
Throughout the several weeks it took for Mrs. Goodwood to complete her convalescence Vivian attended to her every day spending practically every waking hour in her company, assisting her with exercises, supporting her when she was finally able to take walks in the garden, she even asked him to read to her on a daily basis as she lay in bed recovering from her exertions. Other tasks related to her clothes and dressing were mostly taken care of by Marie, the Duchess’s lady’s maid .During this time and despite his initial qualms a cordial relationship developed between them. In fact, so close was their bond that Mrs. Goodwood insisted he remain in the room reading to her while the Duchess’s maid went about her various chores such as laying out her clothes or arranging her hair.
As the weeks passed the close connection between them seemed to grow and strengthen and it came as little surprise that when she fully recovered and after consulting the Duchess she offered him a position as her chauffeur/butler at her residence in New York. Naturally, for a young man the thought of a life in such an exciting metropolis in a different country was irresistible, it was an offer he couldn’t refuse. Within a week Mrs. Goodwood, who it appeared had excellent connections with both embassies, had made the necessary arrangements and with the Duchess’s blessing, the young man and his new employer departed on the next available trans -Atlantic sailing.
The five day crossing would give him ample time to consider his prospects. His excitement was barely containable, his imagination envisaging a bright future, the sights he would see, the people he would meet, the opportunities he would no doubt have. He had already calculated that the salary Mrs.Goodwood had offered him would allow him to finish his nursing course and perhaps eventually study for enrolment in medical school.
The Voyage
The SS Normandie was even more spectacular than he had imagined and such was his awe when boarding the vessel that Mrs. Goodwood had to remind him to close his gaping mouth lest it draw attention. As they waited for her numerous items of luggage to be delivered to her cabin she could see he was still awestruck and smiled at his almost childlike expression of wonder and it stirred something inside her. She yielded to her urge to hug him and kissed him softly on the cheek before slipping her arm underneath his and escorted him on a tour of the public spaces devoted to first class passengers including the dining room, first class lounge with its grand piano and several large crystal chandeliers , the ballroom with its ornate decor, and to his amazement an eighty foot swimming pool. However, a bigger surprise was when she informed him his accommodation would not be in steerage or even second class as was usually the case with other employees but in an adjoining room to her state room. She explained that it would not be practical for him to be accommodated elsewhere on the vessel as she would require him to run errands and to continue to assist her with the various rehabilitation exercises they had been working on. It would also allow him to become familiar with the type of people in her social circle and how to deal with various situations that may arise.
After completing a circuits of the upper deck they returned to the first class lounge where Mrs. Goodwood choose a table in a quiet location and as they sat awaiting their tea to arrive an elegant lady of a similar vintage to his employer approached. Both women embraced and kissed each other on the cheek, neither seemed surprised to see the other. After exchanging pleasantries and a brief account of her recovery from her recent injury Mrs Goodwood introduced Vivian to her good friend, Mrs. Edith Esterhaus and gave a short explanation for his presence on the voyage.
“Butler...chauffeur... nurse...” she said , raising a perfectly arched eyebrow and instantly inspecting every inch of the young man the way mature women do. She then turned to her friend with an expression of concern “I thought you had better be aware that Beatrice van Horne is also on board, I was with her on the upper deck when we saw you earlier strolling arm in arm on the deck below.”
“Oh...I see...”Mrs Goodwood replied, a unmistakable note of disquiet in her voice as her eyes fell upon her young male employee.
“So you see the problem.” her friend said.
The conversation halted as a steward politely interrupted advising her luggage had been delivered to her rooms and gave her the keys to her rooms.
“Indeed I do Edith” Mrs Goodwood said gravely as the steward departed. “This is a most unfortunate turn of events.
Noting the seriousness of the ladies faces Vivian followed the conversation closely with mounting bewilderment and not a little unease. Finally, Mrs Goodwood turned to Vivian and explained in an earnest voice,
“Mrs. Beatrice van Horne a member of our immediate social circle and although mostly well meaning she does have a dreadful tendency to gossip and in a most dangerous way. Her seeing the two of us promenading on the deck in such a fashion will have fuelled her overly vivid imagination. Do you understand my meaning?”
He looked at her blankly.
“What your mistress is trying to say, dear boy,” Mrs Esterhaus explained as if to a five year old,”is that Mrs. Van Horne is putting two and two together and getting five. She will assume you and your mistress are...shall we say... romantically linked.”
She paused to allow the young man to absorb this.
The word ‘mistress’ hit him, reminding him of his servant status, perhaps foolishly he’d thought he’d left behind left the confines of his class ridden and societal hidebound country. It now seemed to him wealth and privilege, regardless of country, revelled in such archaic hierarchies. However, he also immediately grasped the significance of Mrs. Esterhaus’s remark. The suggestion that there was more than an employee/employer relationship between them was indeed shocking. Having spent time in the service of the Duchess he was only too well aware of what a lady’s reputation meant, particularly in such elevated society circles and instantly recognised the seriousness of the implication for Mrs. Goodwood’s good character. Consequently, he was also very much aware of how such an accusation, regardless of how ridiculously false, could impact his employment prospects. She could always find another employee, he would find it difficult to find another employer that could fund his ambitious plans.
A panic rose inside him, such a dreadful allegation could quite possibly ruin everything he had hoped for and he began to see his future disappear before him.
“If such a gross misrepresentation of the facts were to circulate in New York’s society circles, it would have dire consequences for your mistress. I do hope you understand.” Mrs Esterhaus addressed him directly and with an expression that something bad was about to happen, she then turned to her friend and said gravely, “Cynthia, we really need to nip this in the bud. I would suggest severing your connection with the boy and remove him to steerage for the duration of the voyage. He can remain on board for the return journey. A new butler, nurse or chauffeur can easily be found in New York.”
The young man felt his heart pounding as Mrs. Goodwood remained silent for several seconds.
“You may be right Edith. Beatrice van Horne has a habit of embellishing her stories to curry favour with our friends.” Mrs Goodwood eventually said wearily, the young man felt a knot in the pit of his stomach and suddenly understood the significance of these events. He could feel his dreams being wrenched from him and barely heard Mrs. Goodwood voice adding,“This is terribly unfair, that woman is an utter menace.”
“That may very well be, Cynthia.” Mrs Esterhaus replied sympathetically “But the fact remains, that dreadful Van Horne woman will be only too happy to exaggerate and suggest a totally different relationship, particularly when she discovers he has a cabin next to yours. Even if you manage to conceal him for the duration of the voyage she will still remember him when she calls on you in New York. And as we all know, once such a rumour begins it is impossible to stop. Much better to end this now.”
“Surely, there must another way.” Mrs.Goodwood sighed as she held Vivian’s hand in hers. “Vivian has been incredibly loyal and has so many endearing qualities, nothing was too much trouble for him and has done all I have asked and more.”
Despite his crushing disappointment, the young man blushed at her praise as he knew it was all true, he had indeed performed tasks that would not usually be undertaken by a butler or any male servant for that matter. Over the course of several weeks these duties had become normalised and second nature to him as their relationship had deepened and developed.
She patted him on the knee in an affectionate manner and added,
“Indeed, I have had lady’s maids who were not as attentive.”
This was not the first time she had made such a remark and his cheeks continued to redden at the comparison as he struggled to prevent overtly wincing. In fact, the Duchess and her maid had been present on the last occasion she’d said it and both seemed to accept that such praise was quite acceptable. He had come to realise that given the opportunity Mrs. Goodwood was affording him it would not only be churlish to object but against his best interest. By now he knew how to acknowledge her various observations and comments and although cringing inside he lowered his eyes and smiled shyly.
“Nor as appealing, Cynthia...” Mrs Esterhaus said as she noticed his increasingly crimson glow and paused for a few seconds to gather her thoughts before continuing in a tone he found slightly unsettling.“More charming than your previous girls, quite delicate features, dainty hands almost...I wonder....”
Her voice trailed off and she caught her friend’s eye.
“Are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting, Edith?” Mrs. Goodwood asked.
“I don’t see why not.” Edith Esterhaus answered evenly as she ran a finger down his cheek and over his lips. “Just look at those cheeks, the full lips. Now that I look at him differently I can so very easily see the potential .Surely you can see it also.”
“Now that you say it...” Mrs Goodwood mused, her eyes intently inspecting his face. ,“Mmm...perhaps. And now that I think of it, I have seen it done before. You recall Gloria Bassington’s, dreadful and profligate son?”
“That’s exactly who I was thinking of.” Her friend said excitedly “And he wasn’t half as pretty as your young man.”
Vivian looked at his employer and then to Mrs. Esterhaus, his expression one of complete bewilderment. He knew he was the subject of their conversation but had absolutely no idea of the part he played. Mrs. Esterhaus was the first to address him.
“Yes, it must be confusing, dear boy.” she said quietly “But I think we may have found a way around your mistress’s predicament. That is if you still wish to remain in her employ.”
“Oh, yes, yes, of course, Madam.” he blurted, the straws he was clinging to had suddenly become a sturdy ladder and his feet were on the first rung. He dared to hope once more.
“I’m delighted to hear it, after all we have become so close ” Mrs. Goodwood chirped, grasping his hands in hers, he nodded eagerly. “But to ensure that our plan is successful, it will entail much sacrifice and not inconsiderable risk on all our parts.
“Of course, of course, Madam.”he gushed enthusiastically as a naive optimism flooded his brain.
“Perhaps it would be better if I explained in simple terms so you will have no difficulty in understanding.” Mrs. Esterhaus said addressing him directly in a patronising voice “As you now know a lady of our acquaintance ,Mrs. Van Horne ,is on board and will sooner or later call on your mistress. If she finds that your mistress is accompanied on the voyage by a male, she will, as is her nature, come to the most absurd conclusion that there is some kind romantic liaison between you.”
“But...that’s...that’s...I mean...”he stammered as Mrs. Goodwood smiled sweetly at him and squeezing his hand. “
“Preposterous, I know.” Mrs Esterhaus said.
“Why, don’t you find me attractive Vivian?” Mrs. Goodwood asked him, a hint of sadness in her voice.
“No...I mean...yes Madam...very...It’s just that...” he stammered his face brightening by the second.
Of course she was an attractive woman and he had seen her in ways a male servant or indeed male nurse would not usually see such a lady but he had always taken great care to ensure she did not see the physical effects of her effect on him. He now doubted if he’d been successful and suddenly he could feel a bead of sweat form at his temple.
Mrs Goodwood’s face remained serious, almost hurt.
“Of course Madam.”he said desperately trying to recover some composure but his voice still faltered slightly and with his eyes lowered, he added truthfully.” You are very attractive.”
Her face softened and she smiled tenderly at him.
“Oh do stop teasing the boy, Cynthia.”Mrs Esterhaus gently admonished her friend before addressing him “I think your mistress has illustrated my point, if Mrs van Horne sees your doe-eyed devotion she will consider this proof of her suspicions. Do you understand?”
The rebuke was enough to get his attention, he nodded eagerly keenly awaiting her instructions.
“We really do need to finalise our plans and quickly.” she said “As I said, a male regardless of his servant’s status accompanying a lady will be a source of scandal. Outrageous of course, however, such a rumour no matter how unfounded would be extremely dangerous to the lady’s reputation. Now, a girl, perhaps a lady’s maid or a companion, accompanying her mistress would not raise an eyebrow.”
She paused and both women looked at him intently, his face took on an expression of complete bafflement.
“Ah...I’m...I’m sorry...do you mean...I...”he spluttered incoherently, his mouth agape.
“Oh do close your mouth, dear boy.” Mrs Goodwood said softly “It makes you look most unattractive.”
“He’s not that bright, is he Cynthia? Yes, we mean that you will dress as a girl.” Mrs Esterhaus snorted derisively “As your mistress’s lady’s maid to be precise. It is the only way to ensure Mrs. Van Horne does not suspect something. That is unless you want to ruin your mistress’s reputation.”
“A companion/nurse maybe an option.” Mrs Goodwood wondered out loud.
“But...I...you don’t...” he continued to blather but Mrs Esterhaus immediately cut him short.
“Please don’t interrupt, boy.” she snapped. “There is simply no other way to protect your mistress’s good name and I assume you do wish to ensure that and of course remain in her employ.”
“Yes, yes...of course .” he answered without hesitation.
“That is so gratifying to hear, I have become quite fond of you too.” Mrs. Goodwood said with a reassuring smile from which he took great comfort.
“It’s just...surely ...there could be another...”he continued
“No .”Mrs Esterhaus once more interrupted him in an emphatic tone, dismissing his feeble objection with a wave of her hand and placing a finger under his chin addressed her friend. “If there is even the merest hint of a male presence around your mistress Mrs. Van Horne will have it all over New York society before we even arrive. Do I make myself clear?”
“Ah...er...”he babbled absorbing the consequences.
He looked meekly at Mrs. Goodwood for some support.
“It is true Vivian, Mrs van Horne could ruin my reputation.” she said and smiled encouragingly “It will only be for a few days until we arrive.”
“Do I make myself clear young man?”Mrs. Esterhaus reiterated once more, her voice growing more impatient and forceful.
“Em...ah...yes Madam” he finally succumbed to her relentless offensive.
“I’m glad you have come to your senses.” she sighed, her voice softening “I’m sure your mistress will not forget your loyalty. Luckily you don’t have a truly masculine face, not exactly feminine but with some light make up and one of my wigs I expect we could make you into a reasonably presentable girl.”
Any confusion he had as to what was now expected of him had disappeared and was replaced by the fear of what was now being asked of him. His mouth opened but only a barely audible whine emitted.
“And it is most fortunate that he is not that much larger than me.” Mrs. Goodwood observed “But my girdles are made to measure so they may be a little tight on him but at least he will fit into one of my black or grey dresses. You know the ones Vivian, they have a Peter Pan collar. I’m sure they will fit you.”
Girdles...dresses...the words echoed in his head.
Another low whimper left his mouth but neither of the women seemed to notice.
“Have you seen his legs, Cynthia?” Mrs Esterhaus asked “I do hope his calves are not too heavy. I had a housemaid once with legs like tree trunks. A pleasant girl but looked terrible in her uniform.”
“I have no idea Edith. But I expect they will have that ghastly male hair on them.” Mrs Goodwood answered” We will find out soon enough however, opaque stockings will solve that issue until we can shave them properly.”
“A...aah...”the pitiful sound finally became audible.
“Don’t worry dear boy.”Mrs Esterhaus consoled him “By the time we are finished with you, you will look every inch a lady’s maid.”
“Or companion, I have not decided yet.” Mrs. Goodwood confided in her friend before turning to the young man and handed him the key to her stateroom. “Perhaps both roles could be combined.”
He could only nod his acknowledgement and still dazed turned to leave.
“Before you go, dear boy.” Mrs. Goodwood noticing his disconcertion “As we will have to begin your transformation immediately He winced visibly at the prospect.
“We will have to begin your transformation immediately. I suspect that Van Horne’s woman will seek me out quite soon.,” Mrs Goodwood said, ignoring his obvious distress “After you have finished unpacking my luggage lay out several of my foundation garments, I’m still not sure which style will best suit our objectives.”
“I’d advise a long girdle, knee length if you have one, Cynthia” Mrs. Esterhaus suggested “It should be sufficiently long to ensure his male gait is restricted. He will also require one of your long line brassieres, some rolled up stockings will fill the cups and will lend a more authentic look to his figure.”
“I agree Edith, we will require every item in the feminine armoury to ensure he is presentable.” Mrs. Goodwood concurred. “Luckily, because of the weeks we have spent together during my convalescence he has become intimately acquainted with all my foundation wear and lingerie and will know exactly what items are required. Isn’t that so Vivian?”
He could not deny it, squirming with shame he blushed yet again, his eyes trained on the floor.
“It is not something to be ashamed of, Vivian.” Mrs. Goodwood said in a soothing voice. “It has given you an insight into our world, the feminine realm. A place you will now become even more familiar with. I think the long corselette, the one that laces from the back, it will mould your figure into a suitably feminine silhouette. Now run along like a good girl, we will join you shortly.”
“I think the dear boy should put them on before we arrive.” Mrs. Esterhaus suggested as she looked at him directly “Unless of course you want us to see you naked.”
The idea that these women should see him in such a state was even more terrifying than having to dress as a girl.
As he left their company the emotional turmoil only grew larger. The ghastly prospect and the shame of being dressed a as girl as well as the fear of being discovered was now uppermost in his mind. He also wrestled with the anger that his future had been derailed because of some wealthy woman he did not even know. On the way to the stateroom the thought briefly occurred to him to refuse to comply and accept that this would put an end to his dreams of a new life in a new and exciting country, not to mention the lost opportunities. As he turned the key in the door of the stateroom, he quickly realised he would never have the hope of such good fortune again. He had to concede that Mrs. Goodwood has been very generous and had delivered on her promise and both women were very confident that he could succeed in impersonating a girl. He shuddered at the very idea but considering what was at stake, it was, perhaps, worth the cost of the humiliation.
He quickly began unpacking the several very large trunks containing Mrs. Goodwood’s clothes, it was an easy task as he had, under her supervision, packed them himself and in the weeks he had spent with her had learned how her clothes should be arranged in wardrobes and drawers. As he went about his task in the silence of the stateroom, Mrs. Goodwood words suddenly echoed in his brain,
“I have had lady’s maids who were not as
attentive.”
He felt a shiver run down his spine as the phrase sank in, a slow surge of shame welled up inside him, triggering a recent memory of when Marie, the Duchess’s lady’s maid, had given him some advice in dealing with lady’s toilette, complimented him on how well he was doing in attending to Mrs. Goodwood requirements. She was particularly impressed with how he took care of her clothes and he remembered her smiling as she saw him laying out her evening gown, asking him what foundation garment she would wear under it. Of course he became flustered and hesitated but she persisted, telling him most maids shared such information about their mistresses as it was helpful to know which foundations worked best under certain gowns. He recalled his initial anger that she was implying that, he too was a lady’s maid, but before he could say anything she quickly explained that if he wanted to impress Mrs. Goodwood, an informed view of what would suit her figure would be invaluable. It was part of his role to offer advice and as a male this would be invaluable to Mrs. Greenwood as it would give a different perspective. Annoyed as he was at the ludicrous and mortifying comparison with a lady’s maid, nevertheless, considering his long term goal he could see merit in her advice. Without realising it he soon became her protégé, learning how to remove stains from blouses and skirts, how to care for various delicate fabrics, gaining knowledge about coordinating colours and of course, acquiring an intimate and indispensible knowledge about lady’s foundation garments. He could justify his immersion in this new feminine world as it was done with his ultimate goal in mind, ensuring he pleased Mrs. Goodwood which would allow him to leave his present life for something far better. His diligence did not go unnoticed by her and the recent comparison to her previous maids was no doubt meant as a compliment even though he still found hard to accept.
These thoughts ran through his mind as he began unpacking her luggage, however, his focus remained resolutely on what he’d been taught by Marie, hanging her various skirts and dresses in the correct order, checking her blouses for wrinkles before placing them on their hangers, arranging her shoes in order of heel height. But, at the back of his mind was the nagging resentment of her humiliating observation and it was when he finally turned to the last large item of luggage, his internal conversation ended abruptly. He sighed wearily as he gazed at it with a mixture of fear and loathing, only too well aware that it contained Mrs. Goodwood’s corsetry and lingerie. He gingerly began removing the diverse array of intimate garments, silk stockings in several hues, brassieres of various styles and colours, girdles of differing lengths, styles and rigidity, formidable corsellettes, there were even two old fashioned corsets among the collection. When he’d finished the entire area of the large bed was covered in her foundation garments. He gasped as her departing instruction rang in his head like a bell,
“he has become intimately acquainted with all my foundation wear and lingerie and will know exactly what items are required.”
He was only too well aware of the garment
she’d had in mind and his eyes were now drawn inexorably to it. A long
corsellette rolled neatly, tea rose in colour, its laces coiled around it tied in a neat bow,
and as he silently acknowledged ,shamefully
knotted by his own hands. Its function was to encase the wearer from the breast
to just above the knee, in an attempt to disguise its discomforting structural
function it had a dainty lace hem. He had packed these foundations himself,
never thinking for one moment that within days he would be forced into wearing some
of them, he felt his heart pound as he picked up the required item, before, in
a fit of shame and disgust at his helplessness, throwing it back onto the bed.
The thought of refusing to comply with their outlandish proposal once more
entered his thoughts but immediately a sober and more measured, competing voice
inside his head told him a refusal would put an end to his ambitions for a new
life. As he considered his predicament he also had to concede that over the
course of their brief relationship Mrs Goodwood had been extremely generous to
him. Gifts of clothes he could never have afforded, several
items of gold jewellery including two watches that although appearing more like
ones ladies would wear were obviously very expensive. He suddenly realised that
apart for his daily duties, she had never asked anything of him.
Until now.
In the silence of the stateroom the clock
suddenly chimed as loud as Big Ben.
Mrs. Esterhaus’s strict instruction advising to ready himself before their arrival snapped him from his trance like state and, hands trembling he reached out for the other dreadful article she had insisted he wear, a long line brassiere. By now, he had become very familiar with all these items of intimate apparel, indeed, the memory of the first time he had encountered them was seared into his brain. It was in the second week of her stay that Mrs. Goodwood had requested the assistance of a maid in dressing, , however, as none appeared readily available he was, despite his obvious unease at the prospect , dispatched by the Duchess to facilitate her friend. Of course, because of her injury he had been assisting her with various tasks and was now familiar with her routine but this task went beyond duties a male should be required to perform and although irked by the Duchess’s instruction to carry out a maid’s duties, he was loath to object. He clearly recollected how, when he’d hesitated at her instructions Mrs. Goodwood encouraged and cajoled him at first, citing her injuries as the obvious reason and telling how diligent and helpful he was. When he continued to dither her voice became quite firm almost severe and her commanding tone almost immediately intimidated him and he quietly acquiesced as he knew even at that stage he had too much to lose. As she fixed him with a steely gaze he knew if he wished to remain in her good graces he would have to do as he was told. Lowering his eyes he slowly moved closer and with each step he had a vague feeling of himself being drawn tighter and deeper under her control. Generous as she was she was not a woman that took ‘no’ for an answer and he began to undress.
Even now, weeks after the events of that evening her words and demeanour were etched into his brain and he remembered it word for word.
“Oh do come along Vivian, there is no need to
be shy.” her voice was quite firm but balanced with a note of friendly reassurance.
“If you are to be of any benefit to me, and I sincerely hope you will, you must
be able to provide any and all assistance that I require including some tasks
that you may feel are beyond your realm of experience.”
She was dressed in a full length heavy satin
dressing gown in pale pink and turning her back to him she opened it and let it
slip to the ground. Underneath she wore long corselette of a similar colour
hanging loosely from her womanly frame, the laces dangling from the back, it
was quite obvious what was required of him. Looking at the reflection of the disorientated
young man in the full length mirror she instructed him to pull the laces gently
but firmly, first from the centre and then moving to the lower end before switching
his efforts to the upper part. As the corselette began to stiffen, she held on
to the bedpost and directed him to draw the laces slightly tighter. He had
never before been this close to a woman clad only in corsetry, the intimate
surroundings of her bedroom with its feminine odours only heightened his
anxiety. The nature of his task required that his hips be within inches of
hers, the proximity of her soft feminine flesh was almost overwhelming. Her
perfume seeped into his nostrils and suddenly he became acutely aware of his
organ swelling and the embarrassment it would cause if she were to detect it.
He followed her instructions carefully and
almost instinctively was guided by the visible reshaping of her body and the
low but audible sighs and moans that greeted every tug of the stays. Between
these low whines she informed him such discomfort was necessary to ensure a
truly feminine figure but he was far too focused on what was happening between
his legs that he barely heard her. When she was satisfied the correct
silhouette had been achieved she instructed him to tie the slack lacing into a
neat bow. Turning her back to the mirror she glanced over her shoulder to
examine his efforts and once satisfied turned once more to face the mirror,
inspecting her reflection closely she adjusted her bosom in the lace cups of
her long line brassiere to ensure an attractive cleavage. Her hands ran over
the satin material following the noticeable new contours of her torso, fanning out
over her womanly hips before pronouncing her verdict.
“Quite impressive for your first attempt, you
have very nimble fingers for a young man.” she complimented him as her eyes
remained on her reflection as she continued to
run her hands over the curves of her body, she added almost absentmindedly
, “On my first night here one of the Duchess’s maids attended me, a ghastly
experience. The poor girl had absolutely no sense of subtlety whatsoever,
almost squeezed the life out of me. A different girl the following night was
little better. You on the other hand, despite your sex, seem to have more of a
natural feel for such duties. Obviously your nursing experience is most
beneficial when dealing with others on an intimate level. I just wish the Duchess’s
maids were as capable.”
He folded his hands in front of his groin and
hoped she would not notice the slight but noticeable bulge.
“Oh I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to embarrass
you.” she said quietly, seemingly unaware of his predicament. “I should have
realised that such duties for a male are quite foreign and perhaps somewhat
embarrassing but if you feel such tasks are beyond you I could always ask the Duchess
to provide me with Marie, her own maid, to attend me. It would be a great pity as
I find your company most agreeable not to mention your attentiveness,
dedication and willingness to learn. You could be a great addition to my
household” she paused for a second or two before adding, “ but of course if you
feel it is unbecoming or perhaps in some way unmanly ... ”
“Oh no Mrs Goodwood...no ...not al all.” he
blurted, fearful of jeopardising the hope of
a new life and immediately noticing she seemed somewhat unconvinced, he
added enthusiastically for good measure, “I would most grateful for the
opportunity.”
Her eyes locked onto his and a self-satisfied,
almost triumphant smile lit up her face, it was a smile that for some unknown
reason made him slightly uneasy.
“I am so glad to hear that, Vivian.” she
said, maintaining her smile “Most males would find it demeaning but thankfully
you’re not like most males. I do hope I am correct.”
Still recovering from the experience of being
performing such an intimate act he was slightly disorientated. He was vaguely
aware that although her words were insulting he knew he dare not seem
ungrateful or in any way sullen as this could be yet another test of his
willingness to go beyond what was expected of a male. He swallowed his pride
and somehow managed to smile in appreciation.
“Yes, Mrs. Goodwood.” he answered.
“Good, now as you will become my new maid, you
may address me as Madam.”
He could not prevent his face contorting in
consternation, his mouth fell open but no sound emitted.
“Oh silly me, did I say maid.” she laughed
lightly and reached out to clasp his hands reassuringly “No...no ...I meant aide.
How foolish of me. I do hope you’re not offended.”
“Aah...aah...”a low whine answered her, his
mouth remaining agape.
“Now
fetch my stockings like a good boy, the grey ones draped over the chair. My
injury means I’m still have difficulty putting them on or attaching them to my
garters and you will have to assist me. But don’t worry you have done
wonderfully so far and I will guide you in every step, soon it will be like
second nature to you.”
He stood motionless still unsure if he was
being humiliated or praised.
Her face took on a look of mild impatience.
“My stockings Vivian.” she said in a firm
manner as if speaking to a five year old. It was enough to rouse him from his
confusion.
“Aah..emm..yes Mrs Goodwood.” he replied.
“Vivian.”she snapped
“Madam...I’m sorry Madam.” he said meekly
“And do close your mouth Vivian, it is so
unbecoming in a maid.” she added as he turned to retrieve her silk hosiery.
Maid!
He
repeated silently to himself.
He wasn’t sure if he heard her correctly but
considering her slightly irked mood he decided not to mention it and
concentrated on the task at hand.
That incident was several weeks ago and to his
shame he had to admit it was repeated several times since so much so that he
had begun to lose any sense of just how humiliating his position now was. He
was brought back to reality as the clock chimed announcing a quarter hour had
passed and knowing it would not be long before the ladies made their appearance
he removed his remaining clothes. He
carefully avoided glancing at the full length mirror he chose a lightweight
girdle and with shame coursing through his veins he placed his feet inside and
pulled it up his legs and over his hips. Through the tightness of the girdle he
could feel the satin panel press against his male organ and to his horror it
began to stir and swell slightly. A mixture of confusion, disgust and panic hit
him and he quickly forced his hand under the taut material and before the
offending member grew larger he forced it between his legs to ensure it would
not embarrass him even further.
His eyes then fell on the long-line brassiere,
another wave of degradation washed over him. Again,he became acutely aware of
the clock’s rhythmic ticking which now seemed unnaturally loud as if audibly reminding him of the imminent
arrival of the ladies. This was enough to focus his mind and he picked up the
offending article. Of course it was not the first time he had held the garment,
on several occasions he had witnessed Mrs. Goodwood struggle, due to her
injury, to don a similar style of brassiere. He was pressed into service to
assist with the demeaning task, yet another which should have been performed by
a lady’s maid. In retrospect he now recognised this was another plank of his
masculinity being removed. Now and to
his utter shame it was his turn and to put on the brassiere, and without
assistance. He imitated her actions and slipped his arms through the garment’s wide
and sturdy straps, arms twisted behind his back and with his nimble fingers he could feel at least some of the eyes
engaging with various hooks. Swivelling
his head to check, he looked in the mirror and saw to his surprise that all
hooks were attached to the correct eyes. He did not know whether to be pleased
or depressed by his unmanly achievement. The biting straps and restrictive
fabric of the long line brassieres added to the alien sensation of the girdle’s
compression, looking down the empty lace cups were yet another reminder of how utterly
far he was being separated from his masculinity.
However, the ticking clock continued to march
on relentlessly, a quick glance informed him that he had little time. Thoughts
of his humiliating situation tried to penetrate his brain but were immediately suppressed
at the expense of the greater good.
After all,
a voice in his head said quite calmly, Mrs
Goodwood has been so good to me and I could not be responsible for destroying
her reputation. Isn’t that so? How could I ever forgive yourself? And besides,
I do have my future to think about.
“Yes” he whispered his agreement, fingers
trembling he reached out for the frightening garment.
Quickly,
they will be here any moment now, the voice exhorted.
The urgency of his situation was now foremost
in his mind and he could feel his heart quickening, without further
consideration he picked up the long and heavy garment and, as he had seen Mrs.
Goodwod do, wrapped it around his torso securing the small clasps on one side
of the corselette’s busk to the pins on the other busk. The corselette now
encased his body from his brassiere covered
chest to just above his knees, the lace hem adding an additional layer
of femininity to the garment. He knew his frame was larger than Mrs. Goodwood’s
and he expected to struggle to secure the clasps but was more than surprised that it was not as
tight as he’d expected and it felt more snug than narrow and cramped, almost as
if it was meant to fit him. A ridiculous thought he reasoned, and considered he
probably had lost some weight which would account for the favourable fit. The problem of how to lace it now presented
itself. Luckily, he recalled in one of his conversations with Maria, the Duchess’s
maid, who had told him how she had received a similar corselette as a gift from
her mistress and could without assistance lace herself into it. When she
insisted on giving him a demonstration he blushed and demurred but she insisted
telling him that as he was performing a similar role to hers, she felt closer
to him than the other maids. Her words stung but as he did not wish to offend
her he watched as she placed her hands behind her back and at first gently
drawing in the laces at the small of her back before moving upwards and
repeating but a little tighter this time before duplicating the action on the
lower half but ensuring to leave a little slack to allow movement of her
thighs.
Her lesson had proved to be valuable, his
focus returned as he extended his arms behind his back and began to draw in the
laces. The effect was immediate and he grimaced as he felt the pressure of the
corselette against stomach and back. The silence in the room was suddenly
broken.
“Oh my!” Mrs. Esterhaus’s voice exclaimed as he turned to find both women standing in
the doorway. “He looks absolutely divine. Far better than I had hoped for. You
really have trained him well Cynthia. Just look at how he has managed to hook
up his brassiere.”
Even though he knew this moment would come he
was nevertheless quite startled at their arrival and made a ridiculous attempt to cover himself with one
of Mrs.Goodwoord’s satin slips that lay on the bed.
“How sweet. And so very girlish.” Mrs.
Goodwood gushed, clasping her hands to her breasts in genuine admiration at the
sight before her, she added in a soft supportive voice “But there is no need to
hide your modesty or feel awkward, my dear. You will very soon become
comfortable in our company wearing your new foundations. You must now begin to
think of yourself as just another girl.”
She gently took the slip from his hands and
sat him on the bed.
“You forgot to put on your stockings and shoes.”
she said “an easy mistake for a young man to make but as your corselette is not
yet fully laced, we can easily fix that. I have a nice pair of patent leather
court shoes with a modest two inch heel. Once you have mastered those we can
put you into three or even four inch heels.”
“At least his legs are quite shapely and
thankfully not too hairy for a male.” Mrs Esterhaus said as she rolled a
slightly opaque stocking up his left leg and locating the garter under the
corselette attached it with remarkable dexterity.”But we will still need to
remove it if he is to wear sheer silk stockings.”
“I’m sure the beauty salon on board will be
able to take care of that.” Mrs Goodwood said as she repeated the exercise on
his right leg and as she began attaching the stocking to the garter looked at
him “Ghastly hairy legs would be a dead giveaway and we don’t want that, now do
we, Vivian?”
The touch of their hands on his upper thighs
was beginning to have a very disconcerting effect between his legs and all his
concentration was required to ensure it did not become a growing and most
embarrassing problem.
“A...aah...aah...no... no...of course...”he
croaked, their delicate yet powerful ministrations were now having a noticeable
effect on the organ between his legs but because of the tight and restrictive feminine
garments he now wore the expanding bulge was minimised.
“Now aren’t you glad you are wearing a sturdy
girdle.” Mrs. Esterhaus whispered as she continued to stroke his inside upper
thigh.
Unable to answer, his brain was in turmoil as
he strained trying to control himself.
“You should understand, your foundations have
a dual function.” Mrs. Greenwood explained quietly, fixing him with her
expressive eyes as she too caressed his skin, and ignoring his low groans,
continued “
“Firstly, now that you will be dressed as a
girl your new corsetry will help give you a very feminine shape. Secondly and
probably more important, you may find yourself in the company of women, many of
whom you may be attracted to or perhaps they may even find you attractive so
you really don’t want to be discovered as a male. It would be extremely
embarrassing if you had an unsightly bulge in the front of a tight pencil
skirt. My reputation would be in ruins. So it’s very important that you act as
feminine as possible at all times and your new foundations will provide the
required protection against such an eventuality. They may be restrictive but I
can assure you no woman feels properly dressed without strong, stiff
and supportive under garments. Mrs. Esterhaus and I will ensure you are never
alone and will provide you with additional support and protection. You do
appreciate how important this is, Vivian?”
He nodded as the women withdrew their hands
and gently slipped the court shoes on his feet.
“That’s a good boy.” Mrs. Goodwood said,
patting him on the head like a lap dog.
“Cynthia!” Mrs. Esterhaus said brusquely “If
we are to succeed we really do need to stop thinking of or addressing him as a
male.”
“Of course you are correct Edith, how silly of
me.” Mrs. Goodwood answered “Now Vivian, be a darling girl and stand up be a
darling girl we will help finish lacing your corselette before we put you into
a nice pink satin slip and a suitable dress and do your make-up.”
After she had positioned him in front of the full
length mirror, she then turned to her friend,
“As this was your idea Edith, would you like
to finish lacing Vivian’s new corselette while I choose a dress.”
It was the first time Vivian had seem Mrs. Esterhaus
smile as she arranged herself just behind him just as he had done with Mrs. Goodwood.
He noticed a broad smile appeared on her face
and for some reason he felt it added greatly to the utter indignity he
was experiencing.
“Oh don’t you worry about anything, dear boy.”
she whispered in his ear, his stomach compressed slightly as he felt the first
tug on the laces.
An overwhelming ignominy began to descend on
him and in an attempt to ensure he retained
some semblance of masculinity, he glanced furtively at the mirror but
unfortunately caught Mrs. Esterhaus’s eye, her face seemed quite thrilled by
his discomfort.
“Take a good look. By the time we are
finished, you will barely recognise yourself. Once we put you in a dress, apply
the appropriate make-up together with a pale pink lipstick you will be one of
the prettiest girls in New York.”
He opened his mouth to respond just as Mrs.
Goodwood returned with a number of dresses over her arm and as Mrs. Esterhaus
drew the laces around the tops of his thighs tighter he felt panic and
confusion rise inside him. Perhaps he mis-heard. In his confused state he could
not remember what day it was, when the ship would reach New York and how long
he could endure such mortification. There were so many questions.
He looked at his image in the mirror and saw
both women standing immediately behind him staring in admiration at their
handiwork, their hands caressing the womanly contours of his new figure, their
faces unable to contain their obvious delight and satisfaction.
“How much longer will I have to remain dressed
as a girl. When will we reach New York?”
he asked the women in a dejected voice, “Four...five days?”
The women exchanged knowing glances and smiled at one another but did not answer.
After several seconds both women turned to him, Mrs. Goodwood caressed his face as Mrs. Esterhaus adjusted the frilled hem of the corselette.
“We’ll see, my dear.” Mrs Goodwood
eventually said. “You have so much potential.”
“But...Madam...I...can’t ...”he babbled, her ambivalent attitude to his predicament triggered a mounting panic inside him.
“But you look so adorable, my dear.” Mrs Esterhaus gushed clearly delighted at his transformation thus far. “W...we...weeks... girl...but...I...”he continued to splutter incoherently as Mrs. Goodwood lifted a pale pink satin slip over his head.
“Oh at the very least.” Mrs Goodwood said “After all we can’t have my reputation damaged now can we?
“B...but...” he tried to raise his voice but was completely ignored as the women inspected him further.
“We may need to tighten her corselette Cynthia.” Mrs Esterhaus said examining his waist “Nipped waists are so fashionable with young girls these days.”
Mrs Esterhaus looked at him with matronly warmth.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, after a few weeks dressed en femme you will become quite used to being a girl.
“You may find it difficult at first.” Mrs. Goodwood said and took his hand adding in a tone that left him in no doubt that any objections or defiance would not be tolerated “But you will soon learn. Now let’s get you into that pretty dress.”
A terror now gripped him as he saw his future ahead of him, his mouth opened but the sound of the ship’s engine drowned out his long slow whine.
