An Obvious Solution - Another Victorian illustration/story

It’s taking me longer than I expected to finish the latest chapter of AVVE and in the interim I was going to post an unused illustration I did for that story  in caption form but as OGF pointed out viewers whose first language is not English have difficulty translating this easily.

So I intended to write a very short story to accompany it. It went on a bit too long but it was easy to write so I continued with it. 

 It could be a few weeks before I finish AVVE so hopefully this will suffice in the meantime. I hope you like it. Thanks again to the readers who commented and those who were good enough to tick the "more box." It does mean a lot.

Carrie

I wrote this in a bit of a hurry so hopefully I got all the typos and the grammar is ok. If not apologies.

 An Obvious Solution.

CarrieP

A tale of a kindhearted Victorian stepmother.

In the few years since his father had died Claude had successfully managed to avoid spending much of his summer vacations from school with his stepmother at their country estate. He preferred instead to spend this time with some understanding school friends and their families. It was not that he disliked his stepmother if fact it was quite the opposite as she had always been friendly and warm to him from the moment they met, the reason for this aversion was that the house always seemed full of women, her sisters, female friends, there was not even a male member of the domestic staff. An entire house of women and it was a stifling atmosphere for a young man. When he did stay it was only for a few days at a time and even then he spent most of his time horse riding, shooting and fishing or any activity that would keep him far from the suffocating and genteel feminine embrace of the residence. It didn’t make any difference where he tried to hide in the house’s many rooms he was always found by a maidservant or Miss Prism his stepmother’s new housekeeper. Once his hiding place was discovered he was then gently but firmly encouraged to partake in some all-female gathering. These generally consisted of an incredibly boring afternoon tea, a tedious bridge party or some other dull gathering where middle-aged matrons and their daughters spoke incessantly about the latest fashions. However worse of all as his stepmother was a dedicated follower of fashion he was expected to wear clothes invariably chosen for him by his stepmother or Miss Prism.

 These were usually ghastly items of the most unmanly materials, silken velvet, very soft linen or in one horrible instance a particularly delicate cashmere. And the colours! What dreadful hues they chose for him and invariably these were always in  soft pastels,lavender, lilac, delicate pinks- they were truly awful. He was fond of his stepmother and only wore these hideous garments to prevent her from becoming extremely emotional as ladies often do when refused a simple favour from a male. Despite his embarrassment and for the sake of a harmonious relationship he agreed to wear them for her various afternoon teas and occasional soirées, on these occasions he was greatly relieved that he was the only male present. He dreaded these afternoons and evenings as he was paraded like his stepmother’s prize pet poodle and as the sole male he was always the centre of attention.

So, dear reader, as you can imagine it was with trepidation that he arrived back to his home for his summer vacation as this particular year all his friends were vacationing abroad. On this visit things went badly from the very beginning as his luggage went missing from the train and from his previous experience he knew it would take days to locate and return it assuming it was found at all.  He feared there would be a disagreement after dinner and this proved correct.  

“Out of the question Claude.” his stepmother said gathering her voluminous skirts about her as they made her way upstairs to retire for the night. “it is most inappropriate for a young gentleman to sleep …..I can barely bring myself to say it……..” and in a hushed voice she whispered ….naked! Whatever would the servants think?”

“Well my nightshirts are probably in Scotland by now.” Claude replied “what do you suggest?”

The instant the words left his mouth he knew he had made a mistake.

“Run along and brush your teeth, I shall be with you momentarily.” she said as she called out to her maid who was who was standing at the door to her bedroom awaiting her mistress.

“Martha.” his stepmother called to her lady’s maid “Fetch me one of my nightgowns, perhaps the coffee coloured one.”

“Yes Madam.” the maid replied in her monotone voice.

Claude was grateful that the maid was dismissed before his stepmother turned down the bedclothes and plumped his pillows.

“I think you will find this will suit you quite well.” she said holding up a satin coffee coloured nightgown with a chocolate brown pattern around the bust area and the hem.

“Please Honora ……”he said “this is really quite unnecessary. This is one of your nightgowns.”

“Yes I know dear.” she said laying the garment on the bed. “and I thought we agreed about the correct form of address you should use.”

“I think I’m a little old to use that Honora.” he said and he immediately saw that she was genuinely hurt by his remark and he thought he saw her eyes well up. He hated ladies crying and would do anything to prevent it.

“Please don’t cry Hon…..Mummy.” he blurted cringing at the girlish form of address.

She dabbed her eyes with her lace handkerchief and gave him a smile of gratitude.

“You were always such a sensitive boy.” she said as she embraced him and kissed him tenderly. He could feel her breasts contained by her heavy corset press into his chest as she began unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“Now please …..for me?” she said holding up the satin garment once more and with one elegant movement she swept her skirts behind her and crossed the room and placed the nightgown on the top of the dressing screen.

It was a heavy price to pay to avoid witnessing a tearful and emotional woman.

Anything but tears he thought as he donned the soft garment and he tried to persuade himself that it was not all that different from his regular cotton nightshirts.

“See I told you it would fit you, a few inches short perhaps but an excellent fit nonetheless.” she said as she fussed with the bodice and adjusted the shoulder straps slightly she then took him by the hand and led him to the bed. “you look divine. Now into bed young man.”

He blushed deeply as she arranged the pillows and burgundy satin quilt over him and kissed him gently on the cheeks.

“Thank you for respecting my views on this matter Claude, you are such a dear boy. Now go to sleep. You must be exhausted.” she whispered softly in his ear.

It had been a long day and he was asleep before she closed the door behind her.

“Good morning Master Claude.”

The young man stretched as the voice penetrated his brain and he heard the sound of curtains being drawn. The voice belonged to Miss Prism.

“I trust you slept well.” she said as she tied back the curtains. “It’s well past ten, the mistress asked me to wake you.”

He blinked his eyes sat up in the bed and stretched once more before realising he was wearing his stepmother’s nightwear. He quickly pulled up the sheets to conceal the garment from the housekeeper.

“Quite all right Master Claude.” Miss Prism said as if this was an everyday occurrence “no need to be embarrassed the mistress has told me about your lost luggage. It was the obvious solution.”  

She whipped the sheets away from him revealing leaving him exposed in his feminine nightgown.

“Madam would like to see you immediately. There has been an unfortunate mishap.”

Sheepishly he rose from the bed and looked around for his dressing gown before remembering he now did not possess one.

Miss Prism rearranged his rumpled nightgown to her satisfaction before pointing her hand towards the interconnecting door to his mother’s bedroom.

“Ah there you are Claude” his stepmother said as he entered, lying outstretched on the large bed her body enveloped in a blood red silk nightgown and peignoir.

“There has been a slight faux pas by one of the new housemaids.” she continued as Claude stood awkwardly in front of her with Miss Prism by his side. “very early this morning while you were sleeping she collected the clothes you wore last evening and unaware that these were your only clothes she washed them.”

“That’s not a problem.” he said wishing she would get to the point and allow him to go back to his room out of the gaze of Miss Prism and remove his awful satin nightgown. “I will just wait for them to dry.”

“Well you see Claude …that is the problem. The silly girl unfortunately added some additional substance to the water and …..well the truth of the matter is they have shrunk to the size of a ten year old’s clothes. Miss Prism would you be so kind as to show Master Claude the terrible result.”

Miss Prism retrieved a basket from beside the door and held up a pair of trousers that a ten year old would have difficulty in wearing.

“But….but   what  …. How….”he stammered incoherently as he viewed his miniature sized clothes.

“What…. am I going to wear?” he blurted the panic rising in his voice.

“Unfortunately the local tailor is unwell and even he measured you tomorrow it would take at least two weeks to get you a set of clothes.” his stepmother said as she rose from the bed. “and we can’t have you walking about in nightwear.”

 “Miss Prism” his stepmother addressed her housekeeper who moved a dressing frame with a navy dress and jacket from the corner of the room close to the bed. The jacket was plush velvet with a deep satin collar and the dress was an over-elaborate brushed silk confection of ruffles and frills.

“Unfortunately the only clothes we have that will fit you are several dresses and gowns of mine from a year or two ago.”

“But what about those awful clothes I had to wear last year.” he said referring to the dreadful items she had him wear on several occasions.

“Well.. you did complain about them so much I threw them out.” she replied.

“But I can’t wear….a…….. lady’s gown.” he pleaded almost in tears.

“There…there….. my poor darling.” she said embracing him in her arms “You have to wear something, you just cannot remain as you are. Come now… It won’t be as bad as you think.”

“But ….the servants…..they will laugh ……..”he blurted as he watched Miss Prism remove the dress from the form.

“No they will not” his stepmother kissed him on the forehead and consoled him. “The staff are very loyal and discreet and hold you in the highest regard, they are mortified and upset that one of them has made such a dreadful error and put you in this extremely unfortunate position. They will understand perfectly.”

“But….. I….it’s just so…..” he struggled with emotion as he observed Miss Prism removing an ivory coloured  long corset and  matching silk chemise from a tallboy and laid them on the bed.

“Please….”he sobbed as Miss Prism slipped the straps from his shoulder and let the soft material slip down his body “..please ……”

“It’s all right my dear….Mummy’s here.” she whispered and taking the chemise from Miss Prism she slipped it over his head. He felt the tears well up inside.

“Dear..dear Claude, do not fret everything will be all right.” she whispered softly and nodded to her housekeeper.

“Now breathe in Master Claude” Miss Prism said wrapping the heavy garment around his torso and as she pulled the laces he heard her say “ girls always find this a great help when they’re being laced into their corsets.”    

A Very Victorian Education - New Story and Illustration

First off, many thanks to Our German Friend for his kind words and excellent comments and also to those who ticked the “more” box – believe me it really does make a difference. It tells me I’m not alone in liking this type of material and the way it is presented, it also encourages me to keep trying different ways of expressing my ideas- so thank you, I really appreciate your support.

I’ve always wanted to base a forced femme or petticoat discipline story in the Victorian era and OGF’s remark about readers whose first language is not English having difficulty translating the text finally pushed me into writing it. This is a first draft but if I was to rewrite it I would not be able to post it for another week or so(off to London for the rugby on Thursday – England vs Ireland in case you’re interested. I travel more in hope than expectation.)

 I think I corrected all the typos if not apologies.

Anyway as I said before I usually get about 250- 300 words into these illustrations – this story is a little longer –approx. 3,700 longer. Hopefully you will like it, if not you can blame OGF.

Carrie

A Very Victorian Education.

BY

CarrieP

The past is a foreign country, they do things differently there.- L.P. Hartley

London 1890

Returning from his first year at Oxford for his summer vacation Aubrey St Clair was puzzled and quite annoyed to find his mother’s friend Lady Charlotte de Winter and her daughter Felicity taking afternoon tea with his mother.

“Ah there you are my boy.” she said an unmistakable hint of annoyance in her voice as he entered the drawing room “don’t bother to sit you won’t be staying that long. My aunt Beatrice has invited us to her country estate for a few weeks and we must leave immediately if we are to catch the afternoon train.”

He had intended to spend his stay in London attending parties, casinos as well as several horserace meetings and boxing matches as most young men of his age and class liked to do. Staying in the middle of nowhere for several weeks was not an enticing prospect for the young man, he had to think quickly to avoid a fate worse than death.

“But mother I need to access libraries, museums as well various other institutions in preparation for my new tutorials next autumn.”

“I expected you would come up with such an excuse” his mother sighed in exasperation “so if you will not accompany me Lady Charlotte has kindly offered to accommodate you in her home.”

“Oh don’t you worry about studying Aubrey my dear, you may find staying with us is an education in itself.” Lady Charlotte said.

He knew he had been outmanoeuvred by his mother but staying in London, even if it was with the intimidating Lady Charlotte and her ghastly daughter was a better prospect than weeks in rural isolation. He did not want to refuse as his mother would have stayed and that would have completely ruined his plans. His silence resolved the issue and in a matter of moments he was ensconced in a carriage and nestled between the skirts of his new female companions. As the carriage made its way the short distance to Lady Charlotte’s house in Belgravia she engaged him in small talk as her daughter listened attentively. It seemed she knew quite a lot about his time at university and although she did not touch on some of his more unsavoury escapades there was something about the extent of her knowledge that disturbed him. He had tried to hide aspects of his behaviour at Oxford such as drunkenness, gambling, and acting in an extremely lewd manner, if his mother had known about these traits she would have withdrawn him from college immediately. Even though Lady Charlotte did not allude to any of this he suspected from her tone she did have some idea of his carousing. He had already been warned several times by his mother about getting into trouble and she had threatened him with denying access to his substantial inheritance. Such action would ruin his immediate plans and he quickly realised Lady Charlotte would have to be appeased at all costs.

The first few days of his stay were uneventful, he observed the required social conventions and even managed to be polite to Lady Charlotte’s annoying and tedious daughter. He soon discovered he was the only male in the house as Lady Charlotte did not employ a butler or footman, something  he found strange and also a little irksome as a male servant would be able to act as his valet. Lady Charlotte offered to have Lisa, her lady’s maid, tend to his needs but he laughed at the very idea and told her the notion of a female attending to a male in such a capacity was preposterous. He could see that Lady Charlotte seemed to be perplexed and perhaps even slightly annoyed by his attitude, he also noticed Miss Bristlestrap, her housekeeper, become quite red in the face but said nothing. His dismissed these as typically feminine overreactions, these delicate creatures were unused to the more direct masculine approach to domestic matters, indeed his own mother was the very same. He had to be patient with them and over the course of his sojourn with Lady Charlotte he would attempt to inject some much needed masculinity into her household.

Conversations were a little exasperating as the ladies knowledge of issues of importance was very limited and they were not very well informed regarding matters of state or politics. However he tried patiently to educate his new female companions on these topics particularly the ridiculous idea of female suffrage, a subject they seemed to be particularly exercised about. This he thought was only to be expected, they were merely women afterall and matters such as these were far too complex for them.

After dinner on his third evening in Lady Charlotte’s house he joined his hostess and Felicity for drinks in the drawing room. Female company night after night was becoming very tiresome, listening to their dull and boring talk about the latest fashions was extremely irritating. He felt this was the opportune time to inform the ladies that he was going out for the evening and from now on he would be dining out with his friends from college and would be spending more time in male company.

“Of course this is no reflection on your own excellent company ladies.” he patiently explained to them “it is just that a man such as myself cannot be limited to the presence of the… weaker… pardon me..I mean the fairer sex.”

“Oh dear, it is such a disappointment, is it not darling?” Lady Charlotte sighed as she lowered herself gracefully into a large wing backed chair.

“Oh yes Mummy” Felicity answered her voice tinged with sadness as she carefully arranged her skirts and eased herself elegantly onto the pale blue silk damask couch opposite her mother.” I had hoped he would be a little more indulgent with us. Are you sure we can’t persuade you to stay?”

“Quite sure Felicity.”he answered and patronisingly patted her on the hand before continuing in a pretentious voice “as you have probably noticed  I am a man’s man and my personality is best suited to male company where the  conversation is more intellectual, no offence intended of course.”

“Well I suppose if we cannot dissuade you … “ Lady Charlotte said offering him a drink from the decanter on the table by her chair “ then perhaps you will  have a glass of wine before you go.”

Within seconds of the wine entering his bloodstream he began to feel a little lightheaded.

“I think I had better sit down for a minute or two before I leave.” he said as he sank onto the couch beside Felicity.

“Oh I don’t think you shall be going anywhere this evening dear boy……..” Lady Charlotte said as she watched him struggle to get up “…..or anytime soon for that matter.”

“And certainly not in those clothes.” Felicity added, a wide smile creeping across her face.

“What…..What’s happening?” he blurted as he felt his strength drain from his arms and legs.

“Your drink contained an extract from the Siamese tree snake, lethal in large quantities of course but a small dose causes a major reduction in muscular strength.” Lady Charlotte explained calmly “you can move your limbs- just not with the same vigour. Absolutely no need to worry, you shall make a complete recovery in a few days.”

“But…”the young man looked at her, anger flashing in his eyes “why?”

Lady Charlotte stood up and glided gracefully across the room, her navy silk gown and her petticoats rustling loudly as she approached him. She regarded him with a stern expression,

“Your dear mother has spoken to me many times regarding your boorish behaviour and is concerned you will take after your deceased father who was a shameless reprobate. She is a very close and dear friend and I will not stand by and have her hurt a second time. I have promised her when she returns she will be pleasantly surprised by your reformed behaviour.”

“This is outrageous….. I shall refuse  to…..” Aubrey began before Lady Charlotte silenced him with a sharp slap across the face. She nodded to her daughter who rang the servants’ bell.

Miss Bristlestrap entered followed by two maids who he noticed carried various items of clothing.

“Proceed Miss Bristlestrap” Lady Charlotte instructed her housekeeper.

The young man tried to resist the maids as they raised him from the couch but he quickly discovered that his male strength had deserted him and he was no match even for these slight female servants. They soon had him stripped and as he stood naked trying to cover his genitals in front of five sniggering women, he felt tears welling up inside.

Lady Charlotte arranged her skirts once more and lowered herself onto the couch, she patted her silk covered lap.

“Now Aubrey, your first lesson. Place yourself face down over my knees…….like a good boy. Or perhaps you would prefer if Hilda and Dora assisted you?”

The arrogant and conceited youth who just a few minutes ago was pompously lecturing his female audience glanced at the two maidservants and immediately knew what would happen if he refused. Still hiding his member with his hands he meekly made his way to Lady Charlotte and stood in front of her.

“Please… Lady Charlotte…..please I beg you.” he sobbed.

The mistress of the house with her daughter and servants looking on merely smiled and ignoring the youth’s pleas she imperiously patted her lap once more.

The cool silk of her gown brushed against his naked flesh and he could feel the fabric of her petticoats slide against the soft silk of her gown.

“The paddle Miss Bristlestrap.” Lady Charlotte said and from his shameful position over her knees he could see the housekeeper hand her mistress a wooden implement with a long handle.

He was sobbing long before the first stroke hit the soft flesh of his buttocks and could hear the muffled laughter of the maids and Felicity as his punishment continued to the sixth and final slap.

“You may now rise Aubrey.” Lady Charlotte said as she handed the paddle to Miss Bristlestrap.

He unsteadily got to his feet and humiliation seeping from every pore in his naked body he stood in front of Lady Charlotte who was nonchalantly smoothing the folds of her skirts. His shame prevented his eyes rising to meet hers.

“I have concluded that the precise cause of your disgraceful behaviour is the manner in which you treat the female sex, your arrogance is only exceeded by your selfishness and stupidity but I believe this can be corrected by your total immersion in the feminine realm.”

“I…I…I.. don’t understand.”he stammered, his buttocks still stinging from his punishment.

“Miss Bristlestrap.” Lady Charlotte called to her housekeeper who stepped forward with the maids.

“Hold your arms over your head Master Aubrey.” Miss Bristlestrap ordered in a curt and obviously mocking tone.

Hilda- a maid he had taken a fancy to and recently had groped her breasts and backside- approached him with a shapeless piece of fabric. She gathered it carefully and held it over his head and then let it slide down over his arms and torso. With a broad smile she looked directly into his eyes as she fixed the soft pink satin girls nightgown over his weak body, its large diaphanous bishop sleeves with wide buttoned cuffs and quilted bodice giving it a decidedly ultra feminine look.

“A little long M’Lady but with matching heeled slippers it will fit perfectly.” she said as Dora knelt and placed pink kitten heeled satin slippers on both feet.  

Lady Charlotte stepped forward to inspect the young man.

“Yes, quite satisfactory, obviously very loose in the bosom area” she said as she made adjusted the bodice, cupping his face in her hands she added “but don’t you worry my dear we shall put that right tomorrow.”

“But …I….. PLEASE…… Lady Charlotte…”he babbled incoherently unable to comprehend what was happening.

“You still don’t understand, do you?” she said as if speaking to a five year old.

Aubrey shook his head there were so many emotions swirling around in his head he could not speak, adding to his discomfort was the soft material of the nightgown caressing every centimetre of his body.

“Well then let me explain.” she began “It is clear to your mother and I that your obnoxious attitude towards women combined with your disgraceful conduct at university is as a result of  uncontroled masculine behaviour. A lady would never act in such a vile and nasty manner. I feel that spending some time dressed as a member of the female sex would give you the help and support you need to overcome your vulgar and sordid masculine behaviour. Dressing and acting in a ladylike manner will allow you the opportunity to cast aside those disgraceful and repulsive male attributes.”

“You mean…I .. you want me to …..this is outrageous.” he blurted and attempted to raise his arms to remove his new nightgown however the strong arms of the maids quickly pulled his hands back down.

“I see you require another lesson.” Lady Charlotte sighed wearily as she sat once more “Miss Bristlestrap fetch the paddle, twelve strokes this time I think.

Another thrashing from Lady Charlotte would be an unbearable humiliation as well as very painful.

“Oh no please Lady Charlotte……. not that….”he shrieked “I’m very sorry please don’t punish me.”

“Then you shall be an obedient and very good girl from now on?” Lady Charlotte said fixing him with a steely stare.

He nodded but Lady Charlotte was not satisfied with his response.

“Say it dear boy. What shall you be from now on?”

“An obedient and very good girl from now on.” he whispered.

“Louder Aubrey, Felicity and the servants would like to hear you.”

“I shall an obedient and very good girl from now on.” he blurted the shame filling his cheeks.

“Oh Mummy he’s gorgeous when he blushes, so girlish.” Felicity said.

“A nice curtsey would show you really mean it.” Lady Charlotte said inflicting more humiliation of the weak and demoralised boy.

“Oh he’s not used to such feminine gestures. Let me show you how to do it Aubrey.” Felicity helpfully offered as she dropped to a deep and graceful curtsey

Aubrey held his satin nightgown and performed his first curtsey.

“A reasonable attempt but I’m sure we shall improve your skills in the weeks ahead. Now it’s time you were in bed young lady.” Lady Charlotte said indicating to Miss Bristlestrap to escort the boy to his bedroom.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Aubrey was brusquely awoken the following morning by Hilda and Dora who whipped back the bedclothes with a single stroke. They sniggered contemptuously at the boy curled up in his new feminine nightgown.

“That pink is such a lovely shade Dora.” Hilda said barely supressing her delight at the mortified youth.

“Yes Hilda so feminine, it really suits his colouring.” Dora giggled as his cheeks went crimson.

“Girls!” Miss Bristlestrap’s voice laden with sarcasm  called out from across the room “the young master should not be exposed like that. Please fetch his peignoir.”

“You heard Miss Bristlestrap Hilda” Dora sniggered “fetch the young master’s pink peignoir”

The door opened, Lady Charlotte and Felicity entered.

“I see our new girl is awake Miss Bristlestrap.” she said.

“Yes Madam and breakfast is served on the table by the window.” The housekeeper answered with a curtsey. “I shall lay out the young master’s clothes while you take breakfast.”

Aubrey dressed in his ultra-feminine night attire did not have much of an appetite and sat in silence as Felicity and her mother discussed what dresses would be suit the boy. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Miss Bristlestrap and the two maids laying out various items on the bed.  He suddenly remembered occasions when he would have to speak to his mother in her bedroom while she was being dressed by her maid and he felt his knees weaken as he now realised he would soon be wearing petticoats and a chemise and he gasped as he saw Miss Bristlestrap lay a sturdy white satin corset on the bed. He decided to try once more to get Lady Charlotte to see reason.

“Lady Charlotte please I beg you please don’t confine me in ladies clothing.” he pleaded and almost crying he implored her “I…I am a…. man.”

“I really don’t think so but I suppose if you say you are a man…”Lady Charlotte replied “you can prove it. If you beat Felicity, a young lady of delicate features, at arm wrestling then you can have your clothes back. If not ……it is petticoats and corsets and some simply adorable gowns for you dear boy.”

A space was cleared on the table and Felicity carefully arranged her taffeta skirts around her as she sat down and presented her soft girlish arm for him to engage with.

The contest was over within seconds and as his hand lay under her smaller female hand he could feel himself losing his grip on his masculinity.

“Oh Mummy” Felicity squealed with laughter “my ten year old cousin Emily could beat him.”

Lady Charlotte looked at the boy with a mixture of contempt and pity then stood up, took him by the hand and led him to the bed.

“Now Aubrey I do hope there shall be no more silly talk of retaining your masculinity during the remainder of your stay with us.”

He knew that to argue otherwise would only lead to further punishment and humiliation and meekly nodded his agreement. Felicity could barely contain her excitement and since her arm wrestling victory she became even more haughty and patted him on the head in a most patronising manner before asking him in a slightly menacing tone

“And what did you say you shall be from now on?”

There was only one answer she wanted and he was only too well aware what would happen if he failed to answer correctly.

“An obedient and a very good girl.”

“And what does a good girl wear?” she continued her interrogation.

“A… dress” he answered shamefully, his eyes firmly fixed to the floor.

“Oh not only a dress Aubrey there is so much more. Now I’m sure you know what they are, why don’t you tell us.” she said in a mocking voice as she gestured towards the items of ladies underwear carefully laid out on the bed.”

“Petticoats,……corset…… chemise…… pantaloons, stockings” he stammered as he looked at the array of feminine clothing that he would soon be forced to wear.

“Oh he shall make a wonderful girl Mummy” Felicity giggled.

“I don’t think we shall have any trouble Miss Bristlestrap” Lady Charlotte said and dismissed her servants.

“But there is one item that you have never seen before. One that ladies do not have to wear but unfortunately my dear you must.” Lady Charlotte said as she held something that to Aubrey looked like flesh coloured bulbous mounds.

As traumatising as his experience was up to now he suddenly felt a lurch in stomach as he now realised what they were.

“Yes my dear boy, we can’t have a girl without breasts.” Lady Charlotte smiled. “these were developed by some very clever ladies who graduated from a very progressive all female college in Cambridge. They believe some males should understand what it is like to have secondary sexual characteristics. A strange notion I grant you but one I am becoming more tolerant of.”

Aubrey looked at the perfectly shaped orbs in horror and had to hold on to the table to steady himself as Lady Charlotte continued,

“Incredibly lifelike don’t you think? Perfect weight and shape and the colour is almost flawless.”

 “Let me help you with your nightgown.” Felicity said as she lifted the satin gown over his head leaving him totally exposed and vulnerable but he was too much in shock to protest.

Lady Charlotte massaged a substance onto his chest and quickly attached the left breast and held it firmly in place, Felicity picked up the other and repeated the process.

“There..” she said standing back to admire their handiwork  “almost seamless”, leaving Aubrey the not so proud owner of a pair of female breasts, his shoulders hunched forward from the new weight on his chest.

“I feel jealous.” Felicity sniggered as she felt his new breasts, lifting them and letting them drop suddenly which elicited a sharp cry from the disorientated youth as his new attachments tugged abruptly at his skin, she added in a triumphant voice “not so pleasant having your breasts fondled is it?”

“Enough of that Felicity we really must get the boy into his underwear, I expect the servants shall return soon to tidy the room.” Lady Charlotte interrupted and then turned to him and asked “unless you want to remain naked?”

Aubrey felt totally humiliated and exposed in front of his tormentors but being left naked in front of the servants would be horrible. 

“Oh no Lady Charlotte, please ..”

“Well you had better put on your pantloons then.” she said handing his a pair of knee length white silk bloomers, he quickly pulled them up and tied them around his waist.

Felicity slipped a silk chemise over his head and with great fuss arranged the material over his new bosom making sure she tugged them slightly causing him to wince.

“Oh don’t be such a little girl, you think that’s uncomfortable?” she laughed “just wait until we get you into this.”

Lady Charlotte produced a long white satin corset, quickly and expertly she placed it around his torso. Felicity once more settled his breasts into the moulded cups and tugged the corset over his hips. Lady Charlotte began pulling the laces jerking Aubrey backwards. He gasped as the corset began to tighten, she paused for a moment until he got his breath back then she started pulling the lower section and he could feel his waist being compressed and could see his bosom lift and push out. She then tightened the upper part of the garment and he quickly felt his shoulders being pulled back which emphasised his bosom even more. His entire torso was now encased within the ridged confines of his new corset and he felt the pressure of the ridged bones constrict every centimetre of his upper body.

“Excellent, what a wonderful girlish figure you have my dear. Are you comfortable? Would you like it a little tighter perhaps? It’s all the fashion these days you know.” she said with a mischievous smile.

“Oh no Lady Charlotte it quite comfortable.” he lied.

“Very well, Felicity his petticoats.” Lady Charlotte instructed her daughter.

“Will three be enough?” she said.

“I suppose it shall be enough for today, the pale blue taffeta first, then the ivory and last will be the while silk one with the ruffled hem.” Lady Charlotte replied before turning to the boy “it will give you that glorious rustling sound we ladies love so much. It makes us feel so ……..deliciously feminine”

Now overwhelmed and controlled by both women, Aubrey remained completely docile as his petticoats were placed over his head and slipped down his inflexible foundation garment  Felicity then tied neatly them into place over his corseted hips.

“And your last item shall be your bustle.” Lady Charlotte announced.

“Which one Mummy? There are so many pretty ones.” Felicity cooed fingering several garments on the bed. “What about the one with the five flounces it is one of my favourites.”

“An excellent choice dear.”her mother said as they both set about attaching the fabric covered framework around his hips and settling it over his derriere before tying it in place. She then placed a mirror in front of him and ordered him to look at his reflection.

“Yes dear Aubrey you shall make a very pretty girl.” Lady Charlotte said “this gown shall suit you perfectly.

Felicity squealed with delight.

“Oh we are going to have so much fun with you.”

A Victorian Feminisation

The most recent illustrations I’ve posted have been based in the 40’s/50’s - a period I love -but lately I have been trying to put some pieces together set in the Victorian era. I know WNL was also situated in that time but the costumes/gowns were quite ordinary. If people are still interested in that story I’ll finish it, but I don’t want to put a lot of energy into something that does not appeal to readers. So let me know if it still interests you.

The Victorian/Edwardian holds a major fascination for several reasons the main one being the magnificent ladies fashions, metres and metres of luxurious fabrics fashioned into elaborate gowns which required restrictive corsetry and several layers of underwear including chemise, petticoats, pantaloons etc.

Can you just imagine what it would be like to be feminised in such an era?  Forced into a long tight corset and several silk petticoats before being coerced by a strict matronly figure into a taffeta or satin gown weighing several kilos? Compelled to parade in sweeping  gowns for the amusement of your tormentor’s friends.  For me that would be the pinnacle of forced feminisation. Oh dear, I feel a little light headed.

Recently I’ve watched a few TV (no pun intended) period dramas set in this wonderful era and this piqued my interest once more so I began creating some pieces and if there is sufficient interest I will post over the coming months.. The illustrations gave me the idea for a story which I’m also working on.

While I love the idea of forced femme in this time period I really don’t know if a Victorian themed scenario is erotic to many people, I haven’t seen too many of them with the exception of a magnificent story entitled Baroness Gloria- if anyone has read it I’d like to hear your comments.

Anyway I hope you like the illustration below and as usual any feedback or ideas for future posts would be welcome.

Carrie

Rozamund Inspects Her New Sissy

First off, thanks to Silk and Satin for your kind comment and also to the people who requested more at least there are a few who have similar tastes to my own. I haven’t been in much form to post anything lately so hopefully readers will like the attached illustration.

I’m assuming that most readers of this blog also visit Bea’s blog – Bea’s TV Station- so will know of Bea’s recent death.  Bea was a very good friend and while his death was expected it still came as a shock – as it always does when a close friend or family member dies. We exchanged mails on a weekly basis for over eight years and apart from my wife he was the only one who knew my secret so we had a very close bond. 

   

When I first came across his stories I was blown away, they were just what I was looking for.  Like most sub CD’s I’d read a lot of this stuff on various sites like Fictionmania and while I liked some of the stories I had never come across a style of writing that hit what Bea used to refer to as  “hot buttons”. This genre is very limited in how many ways the protagonist is forced into life en femme but Bea managed to do this wonderfully and without resorting to crude or crass storylines or language. He wasn’t a saint and could swear like a true Glaswegian but this never seeped into his writing.

 As I mentioned in the post to his blog I first got to know Bea when I sent him a mail saying how much I enjoyed his stories and after a tetchy reply I thought this guy is an arrogant prick and didn’t want fanboys bothering him so I assumed that was that and put it down to experience. I had never contacted anyone connected with crossdressing before this and was a bit taken aback but when he contacted me again I knew his earlier mail wasn’t meant to offend –it was just his forthright nature. We never looked back after that and while we disagreed on some things it never got in the way of a growing friendship.

Bea was a complex man and had a forceful personality, he lost his mother when he was a toddler and was raised by his grandmother (another formidable personality from what he told me on many occasions) in a working class area of Glasgow. He was evacuated from Glasgow to the country during  World War II, an experience he intensely disliked, he trained as a mechanical engineer and when he finished his apprenticeship he spent a short time at sea before emigrating to Canada  in the mid 50’s with his wife, both were in their early to mid 20’s. He soon made his way to California and after the requisite period took out US citizenship. He loved America and its people but never lost his strong Glaswegian accent which he told me caused him a few problems with co-workers over the years.

All this time he was a crossdresser and it is important to note that he told his wife this before he married her. I really don’t know if this is usual or not but it was something that I greatly admired about him and is a testament to his honesty, he always shrugged this off saying that he could not expect his new wife to marry him without knowing his deepest secrets. A better man than I. As I’ve mentioned on this or Bea’s blog before, my wife discovered my crossdressing purely by accident after 20 years of marriage- not a pleasant experience but she was ok about it. He could never understand my reluctance to tell her but was never judgemental.

Despite this honesty I recall him saying he disliked himself intensely well into his 40’s  because of his crossdressing and it was only when he accepted his CD side as a part of his overall persona he finally began to be at ease with himself. I found this fascinating as I never had major issues with crossdressing and always used to joke with him that his Protestant upbringing left him more scarred and guilt ridden than my Catholic one. 

He was an incredibly intelligent man and a fountain of knowledge about so many things and while he may have come across as a trifle blunt on his blog he was a very sensitive man in many ways and because of his own self-loathing in his early life he just wanted to help CD’s come to terms with their alter ego and be happy with themselves as people. He loved his wife and two sons and grandkids and if you were fortunate enough to be his friend he loved you too.

I'll miss him a lot.

Carrie

A New Maid for Rozamund?

A Happy, Safe and Peaceful Christmas to All.

As I mentioned in the last post I had started a story about Rozamund’s background and her introduction to feminising the male sex unfortunately I could not get it finished in time to post here so a captioned image will have to suffice.

Thanks to all who visited the blog throughout the year and particularly those who were kind enough to comment and tick the more/interesting box. I’m really glad you like this type of material. I’ll try to keep it going for as long as I think people find it interesting or entertaining.

If some readers want to contribute anything, a short story, serial, an illustration or art – anything at all in any language e mail me and if it fits with the spirit of the blog I’ll post it.

I started writing because most of the material I saw on the internet, with the exception of Bea’s  and a few others, did not interest me. So you can blame him for the stuff I produce. The point I’m making is if I can do it anyone can, so if you want a platform contact me and we can discuss it.  

Take care and hopefully I’ll be able to post something in January.

Carrie

WNL Chapters 28-31

I heard the Pogues "Fairytale of New York"  a few days ago, best Christmas song ever, still miss Kirsty Mc Coll - so that means Christmas is now officially open for business.

Below are the next  4 chapters of WNL. It’s difficult to know if people are into this type of format for forced femme material ….I really don’t know what to call it(captioned story, picture story?? Or perhaps if I’m truthful- just blatant copyright infringement.) I suppose it make little difference what the format is if people enjoy the story, which I hope readers do.

There seems to be a regular number of people viewing the blog on a weekly/monthly basis however only a few tick the “more” box at the end of each post .By that metric not many are interested so I think it’s best if I finish WNL shortly. Maybe one more chapter with another three or four pictures should end it but I doubt if it will be before Christmas.

 I thought it interesting to discover that the illustration “Rozamund’s Early Influences” was more popular (by another metric) than some of the WNL chapters. This prompted me to do another piece showing what happened next and I may post this before Christmas. Our German Friend suggested that captioned images like WNL may prove difficult to translate adequately for readers for whom English is not their first language.  So I started Rozamund’s back story but at the moment the text goes only as far as the first illustration-Shit I hope that makes sense. If I can’t complete it I may just post the illustration anyway.

 Enough of my drivel, hope you enjoy the four pieces below.

Carrie

WNL Chapters 26-27

To the readers who are following WNL - apologies for the delay I thought I would be able to get four episodes done but due to personal circumstances I could only finish two.  Hopefully I will be back on track soon and the posting of the next episodes will not be as long. 

   

Thank you Geraldine for your kind words and support, your comments make the effort worthwhile. I have heard about Mädchen in Uniform but unfortunately have never seen it. I share your .. shall we say appreciation… of a strict German matron and ASL’s  Lady Agatha was based on such a lady. 

Maggie Smith’s character in Downton Abbey was also a big influence, I often imagine her in an opulent bedroom dressed in a high waisted girdle and long line bra with a hairbrush in her hand.

Oh dear .. I think I’d better go lie down for a while.

As I said I will try not to be as long next time and hope you enjoy these two. 

Carrie