A Very Victorian Education Chapter 7

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

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

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

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

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

Take care.

Carrie

A Very Victorian Education

Chapter 7

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

Soren Kierkegaard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I ...ah ... emm. ..I  ”he stammered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We are waiting.”

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

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

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

“So little self control.”Alice sneered.

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

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

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

“One hundred Miss.” he answered quickly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you Lady Charlotte.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I understand perfectly m’lady” his Governess answered

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

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

Story from Guinevere including new illustration

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

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

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

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

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

Carrie 

An Edwardian Tale.

By

Guinevere

 Dear reader,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The End.

A Very Victorian Education Chapter 6

A bit late with the latest chapter, a lot going on in my life at the moment.

To all who ticked the more box – Thank you so much it truly is gratifying to know that people like this enough to want more. I really appreciate the gesture. Thanks as always to those who took the time and effort to comment – it does mean a lot to get such good feedback.

Not much more to say other than I hope you enjoy this as much as previous chapters.

Next one could even be later as I’m due to go on vacation in September.

Usual apologies in advance for any typos- could only re-read this very quickly so heaven knows what mistakes there are.

Carrie.

A Very Victorian Education

Chapter 6

An extract from the diary of Lady Charlotte de Winter

Dear Diary

Such excitement, I can barely contain myself.

Finally some wonderful news to report- I simply had to commit it to paper. I had begun to despair that I would ever have the opportunity to effect a modification in male behaviour but this possibility has now arrived and perhaps it would be best if outlined some of the reasons as well as the events which have set me on this path.

From time immemorial women have been downtrodden by men purely on the basis that the male has superior physical strength. But this lack of physical prowess has only served to sharpen our intellect, our cunning if you will, and we have learned to use this innate intelligence to achieve small but vital personal victories.  In short we have found that through our feminine charms and not a little guile we can easily manipulate and subdue males. However this can come at a cost to some women and we should not have to always rely of these peculiarly feminine attributes, perhaps there is a more direct route and it is high time we realised that we are truly the stronger sex after all do we not bring life forth in the most painful and agonising way imaginable?- no man can or would want to do this. Of course when we produce a daughter it is greeted with great disappointment, it took me a long time to see through such nonsense. I even envied my dear, dear friend Amelia when she produced her son, Aubrey. However soon after his birth I feared  his father’s dreadful behaviour would be a malign influence, fortunately – and I am not ashamed to admit this, he like my own husband - met with an unfortunate hunting accident soon after Aubrey was born.  Coincidentally, around this time, several of my close friends’ husbands had also shuffled of this mortal coil, and all of them from the typically appalling and truly self-abusive behaviour associated with the male sex. Yet again I freely and happily admit these were no loss to the human race. All these ladies had similar experiences of their husbands philandering, gambling, and other male vices too numerous to mention here and over the years we have had several discussions regarding what could be done to rectify this abominable situation. As we head towards a new century women are beginning to finally realise that they do not have to tolerate such patriarchal nonsense. It really is time for a change , time perhaps for a matriarchy to be established, a subtle one of course but one where the male is left in no doubt as to who is in charge. My friends obviously agree but we all have different opinions as to achieve such progress. My own view is that the main disparity, apart from the obvious physical differences between the sexes, is males have far too much freedom which leads to the inevitable development of these awful characteristics. The poor things really should be pitied and need to be saved - from themselves.

A prime example of this is the aforementioned Aubrey whose arrival here has prompted this diary entry not to mention the opportunity to explore certain ideas I have which could be most beneficial to our sex. When he was a child – and under the strict supervision of his Nanny and nursemaid - Aubrey was an adorable boy, of course like most males of the upper classes he was kept in dresses until he was six years old. He was the most well behaved child, never climbed trees, got dirty, ran amok or got into any kind of mischief, he had perfect manners even at that young age. Unless I am very much mistaken I believe he had been taught to curtsy, a gesture he performed when he was introduced his mother’s friends.

Yes! What a delightful child he was. Naturally this was a result of being under the authority of two formidable servants who kept him under strict control at all times, of course he was also only allowed to associate  with girls which were usually a year or two older. I suspect this as well as his enchanting feminine attire helped modify his natural male traits. Oh, I should say these ghastly masculine characteristics occasionally came to the surface but were swiftly dealt with by his Nanny or his older companions. I distinctly remember one episode where he tried to assert his male authority, despite wearing the most wonderfully feminine frilled white pinafore over an ornate pink dress which underneath had several layers of ruffled petticoats,. The older girls very quickly brought him under control and without even seeking permission from his Nanny he was quickly and bundled over one girl’s lap while two others held him in place as he tried to kick his legs in a vain and pathetic attempt to break free  - much to the amusement of all present. He was given the chance to repent but even at that age his ridiculous male ego would not allow him to do so, however after a few strokes with a ballet slipper he soon came to his senses and as the tears rolled down his cheeks he apologised and promised to be a good girl for the rest of the afternoon. As a further punishment his dress was changed to a black one and with the white pinafore his clothes now looked like a housemaid’s uniform. He was then forced to serve afternoon tea for the girls. Although it was a very amusing scene to witness it was also very instructive how, given the right circumstances, a male can be kept under the control of the so called weaker sex. I often wonder does Aubrey recall that incident, I must remember to ask him when he comes down to lunch, of course that is if his Governess decides he has made enough progress in his training.

Now that I think about it around the same time I also had occasion to study my cousin’s son, a boy of Aubrey’s age, who was freed from feminine clothing after his fourth birthday, much against his Nanny’s recommendation I should add. And how her fears were proved correct! It was a complete reversal of the scene I have described above, within a week this boy had picked up all the disgraceful and typically male characteristics that we ladies loathe- he was impertinent and disrespectful to all females especially the maidservants as well as being offensive and over-bearing to his young female companions. It was not very pleasant to witness and my cousin soon came to regret being pressurised into this decision by her oppressive and dictatorial husband. This reprehensible man was one of those husbands to which I referred to earlier and one I was not sorry to see the last of.

While I was observing these two boys I became intrigued as to how female clothing can be used as an instrument to curb the objectionable and offensive attitudes of the male. I was very keen to continue to observe how Aubrey, dressed in his feminine finery, would evolve over the next few weeks but unfortunately as his seventh birthday approached he was packed off to boarding school. It should be noted that this was much to the annoyance of his young female companions and I too felt more than a little disappointed at his departure but I suspect never was a boy more happy and relieved to depart for an all boys school.

That particular incident was twelve years ago but such was its impact the memory stayed with me all this time. Over the years since her husband’s death Amelia has been a regular visitor and as we are very close she would occasionally stay overnight with a very reluctant Aubrey in tow. By now of course Aubrey had been away at school for several years and with the exception of brief visits home had very little contact with the female sex and as a result he was evolving into the archetypal boorish male. It was the slippery slope and as he got older Amelia was finding it a little more difficult to maintain control over him. However a very strange thing occurred to me, I always noticed that despite this increasing male arrogance there was something....I could never quite put my finger on it ....but there was always a hint of nervousness when he was alone in a room with more than one woman. He became slightly flustered and appeared to find it difficult to retain his faux male superiority.

I recall one particular afternoon earlier this year when the three of us walking in the park and we came upon a nursemaid appropriately dressed in her pale blue uniform and pristine frilled pinafore apron with her young charge, a boy of five or six dressed in the most delightful dress and petticoats. The boy was restrained by a leather harness around his chest which the nursemaid controlled by two leather reins.  Obviously being mothers with an interest in the development of young boys Amelia and I stopped to inspect the dear child’s dress much to the consternation of young Aubrey who would have bolted except that he was tightly wedged between myself and his mother and just to be absolutely sure I took a firm grip of his hand. It turned out to be an extremely significant event that I recall the circumstances and conversations in almost perfect detail.

“What a perfectly enchanting boy you have. So well behaved.” Amelia said as she inspected the boy’s dress

“Yes Madam.” the nursemaid replied as she pulled the boy’s reins and he stopped, she bobbed a curtsy “say ‘good morning to the lady Master Vivian. And please do it properly”

“Good morning Madam.” he said , his face turning beetroot red as he  curtsied.

“Adorable! Simply adorable!” I exclaimed and questioned the nursemaid further as it was unusual to see a boy as old as this being paraded publicly in skirts. “Didn’t Aubrey have a dress similar to this one Amelia?”

“Yes I believe he had, although I think it was in peach taffeta. Or was it crepe de chine Aubrey?”Amelia asked a clearly very uncomfortable and by now quite flustered Aubrey.

“I ...err....umm....”he mumbled, either unable or unwilling to furnish an answer.

“Oh you looked simply divine. So sweet and angelic and so well behaved” I said stroking the boy’s cheek gently, the nursemaid continued,

“The young master has recently made the transition into male clothing Madam, and became a little too boisterous for the mistress’s liking so she suggested that a lengthy period of time in one of his old dresses as a punishment may improve his behaviour.”

“It appears to have worked.” Amelia said admiringly as she turned to me and caressed the boy’s cheek “he is so well behaved.”

I could feel the tug of Aubrey’s had as he tried to move away, I pulled it sharply to remind him he was not to move.

“Yes Madam.” the nursemaid answered proudly as she gave a little tug on the boy’s reins as he too tried to flee “the young master thought he had escaped his frills and flounces ...didn’t you Master Vivian?”

She patted the boy on the head, he was now scarlet and on the verge of tears as his nursemaid continued

“My mistress says that boys would benefit greatly if they could be confined in petticoats for longer periods. As you can see the young master is behaving impeccably.”

“What a splendid thought Amelia.”I said and looked directly at Aubrey “would you like to be returned to your dresses Aubrey? You were such a darling boy and with your shoulder length hair and pale skin you were indistinguishable from the other girls.”

“And so well behaved!...... unlike recent times.” Amelia snorted derisively and gave him a scathing look “perhaps this girl’s mistress is correct, a few days in petticoats and skirts may well improve male behaviour.”

“Please.... Mother” Aubrey said anxiously and by now clearly agitated by the direction the conversation had taken, “Can we go ...please.”

The encounter with the nursemaid was a brief but nonetheless enlightening one and as we strolled away it was obvious from Aubrey’s demeanour that this chance meeting had resurrected memories from his own childhood that found extremely embarrassing and would rather have forgotten. He remained quiet for the remainder of our walk and was visibly alarmed if either his mother or I referred to the subject. Of course this only served to arouse my interest and if I am entirely honest it also elicited a frisson of excitement which ...and I blush to admit this ...made me a little giddy and I felt a peculiar sensation in my..... well...my... most intimate area. I was not really sure why this was but the thought of a pretty young man like Aubrey dressed from head to toe in the silks and satins of feminine finery, stripped of his masculine clothing and emasculated in petticoats seemed to unlock something inside me that I found exhilarating. This was a feeling I had not experienced before  ...a sense of power over the male sex, an awareness that we females could, by merely dressing them in feminine clothing exercise an authority and control over them. I had yet to determine how this could be done but such an exercise I knew should not be beyond the imagination of an intelligent woman, there and then I resolved to explore this idea a little further. Of course at this point I did not feel it appropriate to share my feelings with my dear friend and mother of the young man who I believed would make an excellent choice for such an experiment and as we approached home an idea came to me.

By sheer chance I had given the staff a half day and the only one present was the new under-housemaid who opened the door.

“Oh Amelia!” I recall saying “I really must have your opinion on some new gowns I recently acquired from Paris.”

“I’d be delighted darling.”Amelia replied and here I launched my plan.

“I’d also be grateful for a man’s opinion.” I said slyly pandering to Aubrey’s youthful male ego.

“Er...umm... I .....ah...”he stammered the way most males do when asked to perform such a task.

I was not prepared to lose an opportunity to introduce the boy into an exclusively feminine domain. “I really would be most grateful.” I cooed and quickly linked my arm with his, “oh do persuade your darling boy Amelia.”

Amelia seemed taken with this notion and she too linked her arm with his and without even asking him she answered for her son.

“He’d be happy to do so, my dear.”

The boy had no time to protest and seemed temporarily stunned as we gathered our skirts and steered him upstairs to my room. Amelia is my dearest friend and although I knew she had little or no regard for the male sex and worried constantly that her own son would soon devolve into the arrogant and patronising male his father had been. I did not feel confident in divulging to her my innermost feelings on the subject of modifying male behaviour by confining males in female garments. And so, dear diary, I kept my thoughts and plans to myself as Aubrey now firmly secured between his mother and I had very little option, to the delightful music of rustling skirts and petticoats was immediately escorted upstairs to my bedroom.

As we entered my boudoir it was immediately obvious that the boy was extremely uncomfortable in fact he was almost paralysed by fear in this most feminine of environments, Amelia told him to sit while she and I stepped into my dressing room to retrieve the gowns I had spoken about.

“Aubrey seems a little ill at ease.” I ventured tentatively when we were alone, hoping for some insight from her.

“Yes darling.” Amelia replied “he’s like most males, appears self-confident and assertive in the usual familiar surroundings but when placed in a feminine locale like this he is quite nervous and insecure, almost........” she hesitated for a moment or two.

“Submissive.” I offered, helpfully.

“Yes.” she answered absentmindedly, as she examined the beautiful rose coloured silk evening gown I held up for her, she continued “now that I think of it he is always quite well behaved whenever he is summoned to my bedroom and will do anything in order to be allowed to leave as quickly as possible. It really must be something to do with the proximity to such conspicuous femininity.”

“How extraordinary.” I feigned surprise and saw my opportunity to proceed “That is very curious! I wonder how he would react if he had to engage himself in a task that boys would not usually become involved with.”

“I’m intrigued,” Amelia said leaving down the gown “I am always interested in ways of understanding him and perhaps discovering a means that may help him to become less truculent and dare I say it display less machismo. Besides, apart from earlier this afternoon, he has been extremely disobedient lately so I am open to any idea that would improve his behaviour. What did you have in mind?”

A few moments later we returned to my bedroom carrying two of my new gowns.

“Aubrey dear.” Amelia called out to the boy who was sitting on a chair and looking increasingly nervous “We require your assistance, Lady Charlotte wishes to change into one of her new Paris gown’s and my wrist still hurts from that game of tennis yesterday so will you be so kind as to unbutton it?”

“Um... I ....emm .... can’t her maid...”he stumbled, his face beginning to redden.

“Lisa, my maid is a little unwell at the moment.” I lied “and the new housemaid has the most gargantuan hands almost like a man’s, she would be quite unsuitable to perform such a delicate task.”

I took hold of his hands, not quite petit but in no way could be described as manly, and examined them closely before continuing,

“Now yours my dear boy, are....exquisite....practically the same size as my maid’s and I’m sure equally as dexterous, ideally suited for buttoning and unbuttoning a lady’s gown. Now do be a darling boy and unbutton me.”

“Oh do come along Aubrey.” Amelia said brusquely and her eyes smiled at me as we interchanged a brief glance “we do not have all day.”

We both looked at the boy with a similar expression, one that only women can convey which both communicated our impatience at his delay as well as our bemusement at his hesitation in performing such a simple undertaking.

Amelia withdrew to the chair to observe the scene as I stood facing the large dressing mirror with my back to Aubrey, a position in which I could monitor his every move but even more importantly I could scrutinise his facial expressions.

There was no doubt that Aubrey was intimidated as much by his surroundings as the two – and I make no apology , dear Diary, for this description- formidable and statuesque ladies. After being rebuked by his mother he timidly approached me with his eyes downcast, ashamed to glace at his reflection in the mirror. I watched him intently as he nervously placed his fingers on the first button at the nape of my neck and attempted to unbutton it.

“He may be a little slow at first Charlotte.” Amelia said nonchalantly and not even bothering to look up from the magazine she was flicking through, “it has been a few weeks since he helped dress and undress me and he may be a little out of practice.”

“Mother!” Aubrey beseeched her in a voice laden with embarrassment.

“Oh don’t be silly dear.” his mother replied “it’s the truth, I pressed you into service when my maid, Sara, a nice young girl left abruptly earlier this year. I’m sure you remember ......”

I could see Aubrey was becoming even more embarrassed as his mother related the tale, he stopped unbuttoning me to implore his mother.

“Mother.....please......” he pleaded hoping to silence his mother.

“Aubrey, will you please concentrate on your duties.” Amelia chided him and ignoring his appeal spoke directly to me “You see Charlotte, Aubrey took a little fancy to this girl, as he did with many of the servant girls, and began to make inappropriate remarks and unsolicited advances. Naturally I was not pleased as I spent weeks training her to the correct standard for a lady’s maid and was most annoyed when she gave her notice and left however it meant that until she could be replaced I had no lady’s maid. It was a most unsatisfactory situation, of course I had to have one of the housemaids attend me but at certain times when this was not possible I pressed Aubrey into service, so to speak, as his disgraceful behaviour was the reason I was left without a maid in the first place.”

The recounting of his disreputable episode with his mother’s lady’s maid had its effect on Aubrey, I could practically see the shame envelope him as he continued to unbutton my dress, his eyes glued to this menial exercise, afraid to even glance in the mirror in case he caught my eye. I could not help myself even if I wanted to – I decided to increase his discomfort.

“He has such delicate hands for a boy Amelia.” I said, directly addressing his mother and ignoring him as if he was a mere servant, I noticed he winced at my comment, I continued “so unlike my most of my own housemaids with their coarse and clumsy fingers. He is extremely suited to the task such a pity he is a boy, he would make an excellent lady’s maid.”

This appeared to be the final straw and his eyes began to well up with tears.

“Oh ...for heaven’s sake Aubrey, stop crying like a girl,” his mother exclaimed “Lady Charlotte was only having a little fun with you, some gentle teasing.”

By this time he had unbuttoned the back of my dress and I turned to him and embraced him, my breasts pressed firmly into his chest.

“Yes Aubrey I was only teasing you.” I said insincerely, and as I released him he went to leave but I held out my arms inviting him to pull the sleeves of my dress “oh you haven’t finished yet, I’m afraid. Now why don’t you finish off undressing me like a good .....boy.”

“But....I ...you will....”he stumbled and it was obvious he was completely bewildered, he looked to his mother for help “Mother........ please.... I .....”

“Oh do stop snivelling Aubrey.” Amelia casually disregarded his plea as she examined my new gown “you have done this for me several times and seen me in my corset and petticoats, Charlotte is like a second mother to you. Now please hurry up I really want to see what this gown looks like on.”

Having lost his appeal and without looking me in the eye he reluctantly obeyed his mother and began drawing the sleeves of the gown down my arms and after which he proceeded to draw the heavy velvet material down until it fell in a mass of fabric at my feet. He was on his knees by now and arranging the material in such a fashion that I could easily step out of it. Although my face did not show it I thought such proficiency in the duties of a lady’s maid was remarkable in a young man- indeed in a man of any age – and I wondered why Amelia had never mentioned it before. I made a mental note to ask her about it later.

“Do you know Charlotte I think an extra taffeta petticoat would really enhance this gown, perhaps a nice ivory coloured one.” Amelia said.

“Yes I think you may be right.” I answered looking at the boy at my feet, now completely overwhelmed by his duties.

“Aubrey, do stop dawdling.” Amelia said tersely, as if speaking to an inattentive servant girl “and fetch Lady Charlotte’s petticoat. You will find it in the bottom drawer of the tallboy.”

Stung by his mother’s reprimand the boy immediately rose to his feet, and as he made his way across the room she called out to him,

“And do not forget – it is the ivory taffeta one. Just like the one you helped me choose at Madame Elsie’s Lingerie Emporium last week.”

“You brought him to Madam Elsie’s?” I asked, as the boy busied himself at the tallboy searching for my petticoat.

“Yes darling.” Amelia replied in a hushed tone as we observed Aubrey continuing his quest for my petticoat. “Obviously he hated every minute of it but I still hold the purse strings and told him I may reconsider funding his second year at Oxford so he had little choice. I really don’t like threatening him and would prefer if he modified his behaviour by his own volition through self-awareness and open-mindedness. However once we arrived at Madame Elsie’s he soon lost his male arrogance and mannish ways once he was immersed in such a feminine environment, in fact he became completely docile and respectful.”

It was obvious that she was deeply unhappy and concerned at her son’s seemingly inevitable slide into masculine loutishness. I desperately wanted to share my thoughts and ideas but feared it may be a little too much for her to accept, at least at this point. I empathised quietly and she continued in a quiet voice so Aubrey would not hear. 

“You see I think he may be growing up too fast and I feel I am losing the sweet boy I once had. If I could keep him with me for a few months I’m sure I could instil in him  some of the outstanding qualities our sex has to offer but he is off to university shortly and I fear I will lose my opportunity. Such a pity he was not born female. As you know daughters tend to be more controllable and more importantly.... obedient and I miss that with Aubrey. Your Felicity always seems so well-trained and disciplined as daughters usually are but boys appear to lose that quality once they reach a certain age. As that wonderful Mr Wilde put it, ‘All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That is his.’

I nodded sympathetically as we watched the boy return with the required garment, it was quite obvious that the events of the last few minutes had a most beneficial effect- although I’m sure he would have disagreed. He approached us with his head bowed in humiliation- a disposition which I found refreshingly novel in a male and it caused a ripple of excitement to course through my body. I had rarely experienced having complete control over a male - at least not over the age of twelve – and I wanted to know could something as simple as female clothing actually help to modify male behaviour?

As the shamefaced boy stood in front of us I was gripped with feverish curiosity, would being introduced to the rigours of female corsetry as well as the sensuousness of silks and satins subsume his male arrogance and lead to a life of subservience to female authority, to the power of the petticoat?  

My thoughts were rudely interrupted by a knock on the door, my maid entered. The silly girl had returned early and as any well trained maid would have done, hurried to attend her mistress. Under normal circumstances I would have been appreciative but that particular day was not a normal one, her entrance distracted both Amelia and I, more importantly it also broke the spell the boy was under. He immediately recognised his opportunity and before either his mother or I could prevent it he practically ran to the door depositing my petticoat into the hands of my startled maid as he left.

Amelia laughed as he ran from the room like a scalded cat, I feigned laughter but inside I was deeply disappointed. It was an unsatisfactory conclusion to the afternoon’s little experiment but it did serve a purpose- it clearly displayed the weakness of the male when removed from his familiar masculine environment and placed into the unfamiliar soft, delicate and graceful feminine domain. This made me determined to get the boy into skirts at the next available opportunity. I simply had to know if I could impose a feminine regimen on this boy.

And so dear Diary, in the last few days the Fates have smiled on me and my fondest wish has been granted, as I write these words the dear boy is undergoing a rudimentary education in femininity by his newly appointed Governess and shortly he will be presented to me so I can judge his progress. It will be very interesting to see just how much.........

Ah..... I hear a knock at the door. I wonder what he’s wearing today?

I think it is now time to bring this entry to a conclusion I don’t want to keep the poor boy waiting too long.

A Very Victorian Education Part 5

We live in a truly scary and increasingly depressing world, some parts scarier than others. My heart goes out to everyone touched by the horrors of violence from Iraq and Syria to France, Bangladesh to the US. Everywhere.

I hope this piece of drivel acts as a very small distraction to the madness going on around us.

Vive la France.

Carrie

 A Very Victorian Education

You can be never overdressed or over educated. – Oscar Wilde

Chapter 5

He wasn’t sure what broke his concentration, it may have been the loud rhythmic noise of horse’s hooves on the cobblestone just outside the window or perhaps it was the coarse shouting of the fruit sellers selling their wares. Whatever the reason Aubrey was grateful for it as he realised he was alone. He looked around the room, a room that he now spent several hours each day in and had come to hate every square inch of. It was a combination of bedroom, nursery and schoolroom, a room where he suffered indignities no young man should ever be subjected to. Depending on one’s perspective this was a room where he was being taught how to transform himself into a polite, graceful and obedient young man, respectful of and courteous to the opposite sex.  However from where he now stood or to be more accurate sat in a most ladylike pose, swathed in silks and satins, his back straight as a die from his tight corset -he had quite a different point of view. This was a room where he was continually under female supervision and subjected to an assortment of humiliations designed to subjugate and negate his masculinity. Of course it was an outrage that he had been forced to wear girl’s dresses but even worse was that he was now under the direct control of a Governess who embraced the challenge with an undisguised relish which the youth found extremely alarming and was terrified at the prospect of time he would have to serve under her authority. He shivered and closed his eyes as he remembered the first time he entered this room.

“Our time together will be magical, it will be like transforming the ugly duckling into a beautiful swan.” his Governess gushed enthusiastically when she first commanded him to sit at the juvenile, almost childish school desk situated to the rear of the spacious room.

“Lady Charlotte has charged me with the onerous task of instructing you in how to comport yourself as a female.... as a young lady..... and as you know she has given me free rein in how to achieve this. It is a great responsibility and an assignment I take very seriously.” she said earnestly as she stood over him as she stroked his hair with an almost sinister and vaguely threatening intent, his eyes were drawn to a long thin cane hanging off a thin leather belt around her tightly corseted waist.

 “Yes very seriously indeed.” she repeated before continuing “you will obey me at all times and as your tutor show me the respect my position deserves. I expect you may find this difficult at first but let me assure failure is not an option and corrective measures  will not be pleasant. Do I make myself clear?”

As her hands continued to stroke his hair the youth pressed his knees together in alarm and felt the now familiar yet disturbing sensation of the soft petticoats rub against his thighs, his stomach tightened as she fixed him with her pale blue eyes.

“Yes Miss Alice.” he replied quickly.

“Excellent, I’m sure you will make an eager and willing pupil. Now to your first lesson. I have seen examples of your handwriting and it really is dreadful.” she said a smile breaking out across her handsome face as she handed him a copybook and pen, but I’m confident we can change that. Isn’t that so?”

He was so nervous he could only nod his agreement.

“Wonderful!” she acknowledged his gesture then turned with a swish of skirts to the blackboard and wrote in beautifully embellished calligraphy

A petticoated boy is an obedient boy.

“An apt sentence, don’t you think?”she said, a wide smirk appearing in her face.

He could feel the tears welling up inside but before the first one appeared she said,

“Oh dear ...I almost forgot. It’s time for your morning milking.”

The knot in his stomach tightened yet again as he knew further humiliation awaited him.

She rang a bell and a few moments later Dora one of the housemaids appeared.

“The young master needs to be milked before his lessons begin.” Alice instructed Dora nonchalantly as if she was telling her to perform some mundane domestic task.

“I think it best if we move to the bed Miss.” Dora said as she took his hand.

Knowing a refusal would bring a harsh punishment Aubrey allowed himself to be guided to the bed without protest.

As he sat meekly on the bed Dora retrieved some silk and satin material from the tallboy.

“What beautiful petticoats.” she said as she lifted his skirts and as she felt for his penis added “and such delightful bloomers.”

He gasped as he felt her hand fondle his testicles and her other hand gently caress his member, immediately it had the desired effect and as his member grew Dora fixed him with her eyes, a disdainful smile crossing her beautiful mouth. He could not hide his shame and cast his eyes downwards as he felt the soft silk and satin envelope his shaft.

A shudder went through his body and it was over in a few moments. She cleaned him with a small fresh towel, quickly rearranged his bloomers and petticoats and led him back to his desk.

“Such weak creatures.” Alice said contemptuously examining he shamed boy’s face as Dora sat him down. Thank you Dora.”

“He should be manageable until his afternoon milking Miss.”  Dora said as she patted him on the head like a pet lap dog before leaving.

“Now back to your lesson. In your copybook you will write the sentence on the blackboard until I am satisfied you have copied it correctly.”

Wearily he adjusted his skirts underneath him and picked up his pen.

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

That of course was now in the past, he tried to recall how many days had elapsed since his introduction to this room but such was the confusion swirling inside his head he was unable to do so. To avoid the thrice daily humiliation of his milking he had resolved to try and please his Governess as much as possible and he was now milked only when she considered he was reverting to more masculine behaviour. The momentary feeling of ecstasy he felt at ejaculation was immediately replaced by of deep humiliation and from Alice’s perspective his milking was successful in making him more docile. He never had time to think about this as he was constantly under female supervision.  But at least for now he was alone.

He shook himself from his recollections and looked down at the ladies fashion magazine he held in his gloved hands which were buttoned tightly just below his elbow. Becoming familiar with the latest female fashions was seen by his Governess as a necessary part of his training. He laid down the magazine on the seat beside him and turned his head tentatively. Yes! he was alone, he relaxed for a moment and let his hands drop onto the satin folds of the skirts of the elaborate gown he wore, the hem of which was spread out fan-like at his feet. He could not remember a time since he was placed under the control of his mother’s friend Lady Charlotte de Winter that he had been left alone for more than a few moments. He was never left unattended and was constantly in the company of females but now...... with none of them present he felt a tiny stirring of masculinity somewhere inside his being. He now had a brief respite from female tyranny.

This was such an unusual occurrence that at first he barely believed it but slowly his insecure and nervous brain confirmed the message his eyes were conveying. He wanted to slump back into the soft inviting cushions of the large couch but his strong and unyielding corset made that particular male trait impossible, its rigid and unforgiving whalebone ensured his back remained ramrod straight. No, his restrictive garment would not allow him that self-indulgence but at least he could enjoy the feeling of a little time however brief without being under the constant observation of prying and probing female eyes. This was the first time since he had been forced into feminine attire that he had been left alone, his waking hours were filled with female company, if it wasn’t his Governess , Alice or Miss Alice as he now had to address her, then it was Lady Charlotte or Felicity her ghastly daughter who constantly scolded him for minor misdemeanours. He also had to contend with the servants, those smirking housemaids who although made no direct insulting remarks, always seemed to have a scornful, contemptuous look on their faces, particularly when they arrived to relieve him of his masculine essence. But now at least he was free of these women, he wasn’t sure how long he had been alone, in fact such was his mental turmoil he wasn’t even sure how long he had been in Lady Charlotte’s house.  Was it four or five days, maybe it was a week? How long did his mother say she would be away, a week, two weeks? He shifted uncomfortably as his corset corrected his posture.

“How much longer do I have to remain in these hideous feminine garments?” he muttered somewhat nervously under his breath, still unsure if he was really alone even though the room was clearly empty.

Having ensured that there was no one else present he took the opportunity to stretch his legs. He rose from the couch and immediately felt the slight but still discernible tug of his heavy satin gown and four petticoats weigh on his body. He looked down and sighed despondently as the fabric of his gown protruded gently outwards from his chest by a most life-like prosthetic which was carefully affixed to his breast in order to create the illusion of a female bosom.  Before he took a step – and as was now usual for him- without pausing to consider what a naturally feminine action it was, he instinctively and carefully arranged the bulky material of the gown and petticoats over his hips so that it fell correctly. As a result of rigorous and exacting tuition from Alice this was a movement that had now become second nature to him. He felt the claves of his legs tighten as his three inch high-heeled boots, each with their ten metal buttons constricted his lower legs in the same way his corset performed a similar task to his upper body. The first steps were always the most intolerable, not in a physical sense as by now he had gotten used to the discomfort, the affliction he felt was to his masculine ego as the unmistakeable feminine rustle of taffeta and silk petticoats echoed around the empty room. Swish, swoosh. The emptiness of the room only served to amplify the distinctly ladylike sound as it seeped into his brain as if to say,

What a delightful girl you will make.

As he walked across the room he tried to block the sound from his mind but it was impossible, swish, swoosh, swish, swoosh. Just as escaping from his new feminine garments was impossible it was equally hopeless to free himself from the whispering feminine sound of the petticoats he was now obliged to wear as part of his new persona. It was not only his heavy gown and petticoats that hindered his male stride, since he had come under Alice’s supervision she had insisted that he wear  an extra long corset, one which went from just over his new female bust to half way down his thighs. No longer could he march confidently across a room like any self-respecting young man, now due to his three inch heeled boots and the long corsetry restricting his masculine gait he was forced to mince in a very feminine fashion. As he reached the window which looked out onto the street he tried to avoid his reflection in the full length mirror which was positioned close by but he found it impossible to drag his eyes away from the reflected image. The tight fitting silver coloured satin gown served to emphasise the faux female bosom, the bodice of heavy silk was decorated with ruffled Brussels lace and was draped almost like a jacket over the heavily ruched skirt which had a pleated hem several inches in depth. Attached to his waist under the gown was a large and cumbersome frame called a bustle which gave him the exaggerated shape at his rear end, a ridiculous contraption that every fashionable female now wore. The material was arranged ornately over the bustle and fell gracefully down the back of the skirt and formed a small train.

The combination of the faux bosom, corset and bustle created an unmistakeable feminine silhouette and, his face, adorned as it was with creams and powders gave him a distinctly androgynous look. Depending on the viewer’s perspective he was either a girlish boy or a boyish girl and this absurdity was creating even greater confusion inside his head. He forced   his eyes away from the mirror and gazed down onto the street below observing people going about their daily business. He saw two well dressed women walking side by side, their gowns gently swaying from side to side, his eyes returned to the mirror and to his horror he knew he would not look out of place if he was to join them. How could he retain a grip on his masculinity while dressed in such feminine fashions?  

“What are you doing Aubrey? Admiring yourself in the mirror, I suppose?” Alice, his Governess said sharply as she swept into the room  the sound of her petticoats filling the air, it was a sound he was now only too well acquainted with. “Perhaps you’re becoming even more feminine than we thought.

He was so lost in his thoughts he had not heard her open the door. He froze, rooted to the spot and felt his knees weaken at her voice, there was a time, a week ago maybe two he could not quite remember, when he would have reprimanded her for such an impudent remark but not now. No, not now, as he stood in front of her dressed from head to foot in a gorgeous dress any woman would have been delighted to wear he was no longer that confident or perhaps even arrogant young man. He was now a frightened and timid youth, imprisoned in the most unmanly confection of silk and satin imaginable. The look on her face told him he was in trouble, he felt the panic rising from within.

Idiot! Why didn’t I stay put? I should have known this was a test and she would return sooner than expected, he cursed himself silently. And just as I was getting on her good side.

 “Did you ask permission to leave your studies?” Alice asked brusquely.

The be-gowned boy turned around immediately and without a moment’s hesitation he curtsied demurely.

“Er...  um... No.... Miss. Sorry Miss Alice.” he mumbled desperately trying to find an adequate excuse for his latest misdemeanour.

“Oh dear Aubrey.” she sighed a note of disappointment in her voice as she stepped closer and stroked his face gently. “You know perfectly well that you should have asked my permission to leave your studies before I left the room. I can’t have my girl just getting up and moving about every time she feels like it. I thought you had made progress in acquiring the feminine values of honesty and trustworthiness but sadly I see that is not the case.”

Although her face did not display any signs of anger Aubrey knew only too well that he was in trouble. Of course it was ridiculous he thought to himself, a grown man having to ask permission to leave his seat but then again the very idea of a grown man being forced to wear a dress was so far beyond ridiculous as to border on the bizarre. He now inhabited a world where the normal rules of life did not apply. He was now firmly in the domain of women, forced to dressed and behave as one of them but completely oblivious to the subtle and mysterious idiosyncrasies of their sex. There were times when his Governess appeared pleased with his progress, after all he now curtsied to her without hesitation and rarely complained about his bulky and cumbersome gowns and petticoats. However there was always at least one, perhaps two of these cryptic customs and conventions which he failed to understand. This was always something simple that a man would never think of, perhaps the way he held a tea cup which she may have considered to be too manly or the manner in which he lowered himself onto a chair was deemed far too awkward to be considered in any way feminine. There seemed to be dozens of such complicated protocols for even the most basic actions, naturally he was punished for each transgression. It could be the cane or having to write lines in his copy book, it was truly demoralising. However he was a quick learner and by this stage in his training he was rarely punished a second time for the same offence. Now however he had committed yet another mystifying infringement of feminine etiquette, he grasped his skirts in trepidation this was    a gesture he noticed all women did when they became anxious- and now he was doing it also, but he had little time to admonish himself.

“But ...I ...only....” he blurted and suddenly the injustice of the situation overcame him and he felt a rush of blood to the head “It’s just not fair” he shouted and stamped his buttoned up ankle boot on the floor.

He knew he had gone too far and held his hand to his mouth.

Alice’s tilted her head ever so slightly, her eyebrows arched the merest fraction, it was the subtlest of movements but it created a sense of panic in his muddled brain. A week ago, like any other male, he would not have understood the significance of such a gesture but now after days of confinement in corsets, petticoats and satin gowns being constantly immersed in the art of femininity he immediately comprehended this peculiarly feminine signal. And it was not good. He had undergone various degrading punishments since he had entered this house and he now recognised only too well that he had once more fallen foul of his Governess. As he and every other female in Lady Charlotte’s house knew he was now physically unable to resist any humiliation forced on him and would have to face any punishment that Miss Alice deemed appropriate for any perceived misbehaviour. He would have to beg forgiveness and hope that her retribution would not be too severe. He held his skirts and curtsied.

“I’m so sorry Miss Alice please forgive me.” he pleaded, the tremor in his voice was clearly audible, the alarm visibly evident.

“Well at least you have learnt something.” she acknowledged his act of subservience before continuing, “ However I am so disappointed by such a childish outburst, I really thought you had lost your male temper but obviously not. It was an act of petulance more reminiscent of a twelve year old.”

The red face boy could only hang his head in shame at her admonishment.

“I’m very sorry Miss Alice. I should have been more mature.” he repeated and curtsied again hoping this would convince her of his remorse.

“Yes you certainly should have been.” she said, her eyes still burrowing into his soul and continued in a voice which seemed genuinely tinged with sadness “and you were making so much progress. Perhaps I should write to your mother...and seek her advice.”

“Oh no ....Miss Alice ...please not that.” Aubrey blurted griping his skirts even tighter, the thought of his mother discovering the extent ofhis predicament was too much to bear. Anything but that, please.”

“Perhaps I should not have expected you to make the transition to being a young lady so quickly.” she said as she walked around him “maybe I should have taken this a step at a time. I will allow you one more chance to prove that you are truly sorry for your transgression otherwise I will have to inform your mother and let her decide on how we should proceed.”

“Oh.. yes Miss.” he quickly agreed, several strokes of the cane or a hundred lines  would be worth not having his horrible situation disclosed to his mother, after all she had often said he was far too brash and arrogant for his own good and would possibly approve of Lady Charlotte’s  scheme.

“Very well.” Alice said as she rang the bell and almost immediately one of the maids appeared.

Alice spoke to her quietly and then returned to address Aubrey. She began unbuttoning his dress at the nape of his neck. He was surprised but knew better than to question her, she then removed his three petticoats and laid them on the bed as he stood in the centre of the room in his corset and silk pantaloons which ended at his knees in a dainty frill. When Alice dressed and undressed him she always left him for several minutes in a state of dishabille, she found this vulnerability not only concentrated the boy’s mind but it was also a source of mild amusement.

She led him to the bed where Sarah, one of the housemaids, had laid out some clothes, she held up the dress next to him. He was horrified, not only was it the frilliest dress he had ever seen with large bows decorating it from the neck to the waist and had several layers of flounces. It was horrible and as if that wasn’t bad enough it was far too short even he knew that, surely the maid had made some mistake, he looked at his Governess with a perplexed expression.

“Yes it is short.” Alice mused as she continued to hold it against him “but then all twelve year olds wear their dresses this short – and you did act like a twelve year old. I had hoped that I would not have to put you into such a dress but your immature fit of pique left me with no choice.

Aubrey looked at the clothes in disbelief.

She can’t expect me to wear the dress of a twelve year old. he tried desperately to convince himself.

“But... I ...it won’t ....”he stammered, still trying to comprehend his situation.

“It won’t fit?” Alice said anticipating his panicked question “Oh yes I’m afraid it will. You see I predicted at some stage you would revert to those horrible male traits so I had Lady Charlotte alter several of the dresses Miss Felicity’s wore as a child to fit you.”

“Oh...no ....please.... Miss Alice .....please... I promise I will ....”he begged staring at the ultra feminine garment, any dignity he had was now long gone as he saw Sarah, a broad smirk on her face, fluff out the voluminous petticoats.

“If you are going to act like a little girl then you will dress like one.”Alice said calmly not allowing him to finish the sentence as she took the petticoats from Sarah.

He held on firmly to the chair and thought of resisting but his lack of strength meant he could not resist them physically. The idea of running from the room briefly crossed his mind but dressed like this, where would he flee to?

Trapped! Yet again he screamed to himself.

“How.. long....”he gulped realising he had no option but to submit, his hands gripping the chair and hoping his legs would hold him upright “will I have to ....”

“Wear your delightful new dress?” Alice quickly interrupted him as, unconcerned by his obvious distress, she examined the dress more closely “these bows are simply enchanting, don’t you think? Naturally I had them added myself, the dress was far too plain for..... someone as special as you.

Aubrey grimaced as she held the hideous garment up for him to inspect.

“As to how long you will wear it, I haven’t made up my mind. It could be a day or two” she continued in her calm voice “then again you may require a little longer to understand what exactly is required to reach the required level of femininity, maybe a week or two. It will depend entirely on how quickly you learn your lesson and rid yourself of that petulant masculine behaviour. Oh by the way this dress is one of several charming creations I have commissioned.”

Two weeks in...... that he howled inside his head, he felt his legs buckle. Alice and Sarah quickly came to his aid.

“I wonder which one of his new dresses he will like best Miss Alice.” the maid gushed enthusiastically as they escorted him to the bed.

“I don’t know Sarah.” Alice replied “he will have plenty of time to think about it while he plays with his dolls. Now come along Aubrey your new dress awaits.”