Below is the
final instalment of Unintended Consequences.
I really
thought I would have it finished before now but events conspired against me but
I suppose there’s a kind of symmetry to the timing- my good friend Bea died
Christmas Day six years ago. I still miss him.
I’m unsure
when I will be able to post another story. Right now I am not in a good place
mentally or emotionally although physically I’m fine and thankfully have
avoided covid. As a result my concentration levels are not so good and it is
unlikely my situation will improve in the next few months so it’s doubtful if I
will have the wherewithal to post something new(I’m still aware I have to
finish Life’s Little Dilemmas- and I will at some stage). Although I will try
to do the odd captioned illustration as it requires less time and effort.
I hate to
say it but Satre was right- Hell is other people.
On the plus side-
and it is a very big plus- I am incredibly lucky to have some very good friends
who I know will continue to sustain and support me.
This final
chapter is quite long, hopefully you
will enjoy it.
You take
care of your selves and enjoy what is left of the Christmas holidays.
Unintended Consequences.-The
Conclusion.
BY
CarrieP
|
L |
ike
most young men of his class, a self assuredness bordering on arrogance was
ingrained in Claude Parker-Burke and this was most evident when dealing with
the female of the species. Rarely if ever was he ruffled by the weaker sex
however this had all changed in the last thirty minutes and the emotions he now
felt ranged from intense insecurity to outright panic, a mental state he had
never experienced before whilst in the company of women. The cause of his alarm
was directly attributable to his aunt, believing he was accompanying her to
visit her bankers he now found himself in an educational institution called St
Jude’s, a finishing school for girls. However, all was not as it seemed
and he had now suddenly discovered at least
two young men of a similar age residing in the same establishment and to his
disbelief and utter horror they were dressed in female attire. One of them, who
he now knew to be the son of the Countess von Otterdorf, was standing in front
of him in the uniform of a lowly, junior parlour-maid while the Countess,
seated next to Claude, looked on impassively. The other unfortunate youth encountered
earlier, was dressed in an elegant lady’s riding habit and the object of close
attention by his female companions. Both young men were not only dressed like
members of the female sex but also had a distinctly feminine shape which left
Claude in no doubt that they were tightly corseted.
The
reasons why these unfortunate youths were dressed in female garb was as yet unclear
but nevertheless it had a distressing effect on Claude and although his first
instinct was to flee his legs were unable to respond to his brain’s command.
The presence of two large and menacing female servants would, in any event,
have no doubt rendered any such attempt useless. He remained motionless, his
face quite pale, seated on the sofa between his aunt and the Countess,
uncomfortably nestled in the folds of their silk and satin skirts. An earlier
remark by Miss Strangelove, the Headmistress of this ghastly place, resounded
in his head,
“Every
young person crossing the threshold of St Jude’s will be turned into an elegant
young lady.”
Surely
…she did not literally mean… every…The unthinkable flashed
through his head but before he could even begin to try making sense of this
grotesque situation the Countess spoke.
“My
dear Claude, you do seem quite perplexed. I suppose I had better explain it to
you simply.” the Countess began as if speaking to a five year old “You see
Maria and Andrea’s- the young man you happened to see earlier- behaviour has
been absolutely dreadful, showing complete disregard for their mothers’ authority, behaving
abysmally towards female servants and
generally displaying utter contempt to the feminine sex in general.”
“Ghastly
traits not unknown to you, Claude.” Aunt Emily interjected unhelpfully, which
only served to heighten his anxiety, he now became aware that all eyes in the
room were on him.
“Fortunately,
St Jude’s offers a path to redemption for wayward and reprobate young men.” the
Countess continued “Who in this room would have thought that this meek and
modest parlour maid was a dissolute and incorrigible young man who was wasting
his life gambling, womanising and bringing shame on my family. I lost count of
the servant girls that have left my service because of his constant pestering
and unsolicited advances. Now look at him. A more docile maidservant you will
not find. Isn’t that correct Maria?”
“Yes
Countess.” The shamefaced uniformed parlourmaid replied with a curtsy.
The
rising panic inside Claude finally reached his limbs and he attempted to rise.
Gretchen and Matilda, the two burly servants advanced towards the couch but his
aunt’s hand pressing down on his right arm and the Countess doing the same on
his left was enough to halt any upward movement. Observing this they retreated.
A glance at the stern faces of the large servants and their huge shovel like
hands persuaded him this was not the time to make any sudden move, he remained
seated however his eyes still frantically searched for a potential escape
route.
“Now
of course you must understand not every young man who enters St Jude’s is
forced into domestic service.” The
Countess smiled at him once more and gave him a reassuring pat on the cheek.
“Only
the belligerent ones, I believe?” Aunt Emily asked the Headmistress.
“Yes
Miss Parker-Bourke.” Miss Strangelove answered and gestured to the male maid
“Maria was particularly quarrelsome and with such males we consign them to a
spell at the lowest rung of the domestic service ladder.”
Miss
Strangelove looked at Claude before turning once again to the unfortunate
Maria, she then addressed Claude’s aunt directly
“A
scullery maid under our redoubtable head cook, Mrs Coldstrap.” she said, Claude
felt a chill run own his spine “Believe me, Miss Parker-Bourke, it had the
desired effect. Mrs Coldstrap has a remarkable talent for dealing with
aggressive young men. Isn’t that correct Maria?”
“Oh
yes …yes Headmistress.” Maria, his face at the mention of the name became
somewhat pale, answered immediately with a curtsy.
Claude
could see the sympathetic look on his face had been replaced with one of fear
and dread.
“May
I call you Emily?” The Countess said reaching over Claude and taking his aunt’s
hands in hers.
“I
was hoping you would.” his aunt replied.
“Wonderful,
and you must call me Magdalena.” the Countess gushed.
“Now,
Emily you can observe just how well behaved my son now is, there is not the
merest hint of the scoundrel he once was.” the Countess continued. “After only
a day with Mrs Coldstrap he had changed but Miss Strangelove insisted that
another several weeks would be most beneficial for his long term
rehabilitation. And as you can see he has risen to his new post as junior
housemaid.”
“He
does look quite docile, Magdalena.” Aunt Emily said as she patted Claude’s knee
“Don’t you think so too, Claude?”
Forced into domestic service…
scullery maid… the Countess’s son…a male
housemaid.
As
the words tumbled through his brain, the panic inside tightened its grip but the
scream that formed deep within was unable to escape.
His
silence was not unexpected by his companions.
“If
he continues to progress under Judith’s tutelage and his contemptible male
traits are subsumed by more genteel, refined feminine ones, he may… just may ,
mind you… even be allowed to leave domestic service and become a pupil as was
originally intended.” Miss Strangelove said, “Would you like that Maria?”
“Oh
yes…yes... very much.” Maria exclaimed with an excitement that startled Claude
“I
have observed recently, Headmistress,” Judith said “when cleaning the young ladies
rooms he has begun to take a very keen interest in their dresses.”
This
brought satisfied smiles from the ladies particularly the Countess who seemed
to beam with pride.
Claude,
despite his growing fear, was appalled to notice that the young man showed no
sign of embarrassment at this pronouncement, in fact he even smiled demurely at
his mother who returned it with genuine affection. He began to imagine what
horrors this establishment had inflicted on this poor unfortunate wretch of a
male to reduce him to such a state. Although the evidence was in front of him
he still found it difficult to comprehend that mere women could strip a
vigorous youth of his masculinity, transforming him into a compliant and
submissive female servant.
“Of
course, my dear Master Claude.” Miss Strangelove interrupted his thoughts as
she addressed him “Not all new male pupils have to undergo months or even years
below stairs. The intelligent ones understand immediately that their perceived
male superiority and its accompanying obstinacy are quite useless in St Jude’s.
They quickly accept their fate and avoid the unnecessary confinement in the
kitchens under Mrs Coldstrap.”
Their…their fate… confinement… The words rang in
Claude’s ears like the peeling of a funeral bell and his eyes once more frantically
searched the room for an escape route as Miss Strangelove paused for a second
and rang a bell after the loud tinkle subsided she once more fixed him with her
gaze and continued,
“Of
course the…shall we say … less co-operative boys… those young men not inclined
to obey immediately, well, those are dispatched below stairs into the welcoming
arms of our kitchen staff.”
A
knock on the door interrupted the conversation and a large, red faced woman in
a pale blue uniform her hair concealed beneath a frilled mob cap entered and
strode purposefully towards Miss Strangelove.
Claude
needed no introduction.
“You
have a vacancy for a scullery maid, Mrs Coldstrap?” Miss Strangelove asked.
“I
always
have a vacancy for a scullery maid, Headmistress.” the large woman laughed
coldly, her eyes falling on the figure seated between the two fashionable
ladies.
Claude
wanted to sink further into the sofa, wishing his aunt and the Countess would
lean into him and cover him with their skirts and ample flesh to shield him
from this fearsome figure.
“As
I say saying,” Miss Strangelove resumed her lecture “The young men that are
foolish enough to believe in their ridiculous, mythical male superiority quickly
discover that they are no match for Gretchen, Matilda.”
The
two large and burly servants now stood either side of Mrs Coldstrap and Claude
felt a chill as he noticed their mouths widen into a grin. From the corner of
his eye he recognised the look of dread on the face of the only other male in
the room. Desperation continuing to tighten its grip, his eyes continued to search
for a means of escape but the presence of these bulky, muscular women ensured
no such route was available.
“I
do hope, you are not foolish, Master Claude?” Miss Strangelove asked, Claude
thought he heard Mrs Coldstrap snigger. In a fit of anxiety he turned to his
aunt and whispered,
“I…I
really think we should leave now Aunt Emily.”
“Leave!”
Aunt Emily, much to Claude’s dread, announced incredulously to the assembly.
“I
think the poor darling still hasn’t understood.” The Countess replied,
caressing his cheek and smiling affectionately at him.
His
eyes darted around the room, Gretchen, Matilda and Mrs Coldstrap eyes appeared
to widen with anticipation, a smile appeared on Miss Strangelove’s mouth while Judith’s
face seemed to take on a strangely cheerful aspect however Maria, the other
male in the room, could not meet his eyes.
Claude
had indeed tried to suppress the evidence of his own eyes however the horrible
conclusion to the events he had witnessed since he had passed through the high
gates of this establishment could no longer be denied. Mrs Coldstrap inched
towards him with the menacing figures of Gretchen and Matilda by her side, the advance
by the women stripped away the thin veneer of self-delusion.
“Please…please…Aunt
Emily.” he begged, unable to contain the panic that surged like a mountain
stream inside him.
“I
think he does now, Magdalena.” Aunt Emily said calmly as she patted her nephew
on the knee in a reassuring fashion.
“Please
Aunt Emily, don’t let them take me.” Claude sobbed.
“That
will all depend on what you say to my proposal, dear Claude.” she answered.
“Y…yes...of
course… yes… anything…I…”he babbled as his aunt put her finger to his mouth and
silenced him, her eyes locking on to his .
“You
will voluntarily accompany us upstairs where you will remove all your male
clothes and then be dressed from head to toe as a girl.”
Claude
opened his mouth but the only sound heard was a low, unintelligible whine.
“I
do not expect you to like wearing dresses but failure to do so or even the
merest hint of resistance…”Aunt Emily’s voice trailed off as her eyes drifted
towards the three large figures looking down on him. “However I am sure Mrs
Coldstrap and her assistants will be able to persuade you otherwise.”
“Uhh…I…
aaahh…dr…dresses…”more incomprehensible babble floated from his mouth, the
three women moved closer.
The
sight of these large and threatening females creeping ever closer caused immediate panic in Claude and in a most
unmanly gesture he threw his arms around his aunt which drew smiles from the
Countess and Miss Strangelove.
“Oh
do
stop blubbering Claude, it really is most annoying.” his aunt
admonished him “Now please tell me is it your intention to accompany me
voluntarily?”
The
young man’s eyes darted between the male housemaid and the three imposing
females who were now only a matter of feet away.
Images
of him toiling under the fearsome Mrs Coldstrap immediately flashed into his
brain and the horrific account of the Countess’s son’s descent into a life of
domestic servitude rang in his ears,
Scullery maid…Mrs Coldstrap…life in
domestic service…months, years…
The
idea of fleeing the room much like his masculine pride and self-confidence seemed
an eternity away, yet another glance at Gretchen and Matilda’s leering faces
was quite enough to ensure his compliance with his aunt’s request.
“Y…
yes…oh yes Aunt.” he stumbled, nodding his head energetically to assure his
aunt of his agreement.
“A
very wise decision darling.” Aunt Emily said unclasping his arms from her waist
as she stood and straightened her skirts before addressing St Jude’s formidable
cook, “Unfortunately Mrs Coldstrap, you may have to wait a little longer for
your next scullery maid.”
“As
you wish, Madam.” Mrs Coldstrap replied in a clearly dejected voice, her eyes
never leaving the pale youth who now also stood, taking up a position so close to
his aunt that her skirts covered his legs.
“I
would greatly appreciate your assistance Magdalena.” his aunt spoke to the
Countess “You know how giddy young males can be when they are being corseted.”
“Corseted…”the
word left his mouth in a low moan.
“He
really does have a lot to learn, Emily.” the Countess laughed prompting sniggers
from all in attendance with the exception of the unsmiling Maria who appeared
to shift uncomfortably bringing a sharp rebuke from Judith, his supervisor.
“Please
follow me ladies.” Miss Strangelove said as she joined the other women and
smiled at Claude “I am so glad you have decided to be reasonable and have
avoided an unpleasant scene.”
Claude
felt a momentary sense of relief as he saw the three servants reluctantly
withdraw however he felt a dull ache in the pit of his stomach as he realised
the Countess and his aunt had slipped an arm under his and began steering him
towards the door.
As
they entered the spacious vestibule a large assembly of girls gathered in
groups of three and four taking a keen interest in the proceedings as Claude
was guided towards the wide staircase. He could hear the distinct crinkling and
swishing of silk and satin, taffeta and organza, the heady mixture of several
perfumes drifted into his nostrils. The murmuring grew louder as they drew
nearer the stairs and the voices became clearer.
“Oh
wonderful, we have a new boy.” a voice from one group said.
“Yes
and he doesn’t look as arrogant and conceited now.” the verdict, delivered with
a sneering laugh from a trio to his left.
“Oh
good he is not heading for the kitchens so we will be able to play with him
later.” Another remark was clearly heard.
“I
wonder what colour dress he will be put into?” yet another voice queried only
to be immediately answered by a squeal from another group.
“Pink,
I hope. New boys always look…so…delicate in pale pink.”
“Girls…please…”
Miss Strangelove gently rebuked her charges “Remember your status, your
breeding. You are young ladies in one of the finest educational establishments
in the land -not a collection of crude urchins at a street corner.”
Between
the increasingly restive assembly of girls and the still ominous presence of
Mrs Coldstrap and her confederates Claude was quite relieved to feel the arms
of his aunt and the Countess steer him behind the wide bustle of Miss
Strangelove as she mounted the staircase.
“You
will have to forgive the girls Master Claude.” Miss Strangelove said lifting
her skirts and revealing several layers of petticoats as she took the first
step. ”They are usually very well-behaved but they do tend to become
overexcited when they see such a fine masculine specimen as yourself.”
The
further from the throng of girls he got his relief began to wane as the reality
of his situation slowly began seeping into his brain. Wedged between his aunt
and the Countess his eyes were fixed straight ahead on the swaying bustled
ample hips of Miss Strangelove and the heavy satin skirts she held in her hands,
he could see the ruffled hems as they swung gently with each step. The swishing noise of her and his two
escorts’ skirts seemed to drown out any other sound and with each whisper of
silk and taffeta he felt as if he was being hypnotised, it was almost as if he
was being drawn into some unfamiliar soft and delicate place. He felt confused,
almost lightheaded as the smooth rhythmic sounds entered his brain and began slowly
enveloping and stifling his
masculinity. He found it difficult to
concentrate, to focus on his maleness, he suddenly felt his courage ebbing
away.
As
the quartet reached the top of the stairs and moved down a wide corridor Claude
began to feel alarm rise inside in very being, his first instinctive reaction
was to try to loosen the bond of his companions’ arms but his manly strength
seemed to desert him at the crucial moment and his feeble efforts were of no
avail. Miss Strangelove opened a door and ushered them inside.
There
could be no mistaking this for the bedroom of a male it reeked of femininity. Pastel
shades predominated, vases filled with roses of every colour and hue were
placed on almost every table, the Hepplewhite chairs were upholstered in pale
blue and the large windows had floor to ceiling curtains in the identical
shade. A large dressing table with a gold triptych mirror reflected the four
occupants. Claude’s attention was immediately drawn to the large bed that
dominated the room, he could not prevent the gasp that left his mouth as his
eyes fell on the items laid out on the deep satin quilt of pale ivory. What
seemed like the entire contents of a lady’s wardrobe, had been carefully
arranged, silk chemises, linen pantaloons, petticoats of various light colours
and fabrics. Taking up almost half the bed was a heavy satin burgundy gown. His
eyes moved to the item next to it and he let out a barely audible whimper. On
top of the gown lay a long corset in a similar shade, the panels open and its
laces falling neatly folded at either side as if beckoning its wearer into its
embrace.
However
shocked as he was he could not also help noticing the incongruous garment that
was neatly laid out next to the sumptuous satin gown. His heart quickened as
his eyes were locked on to the dull brown scullery maid’s uniform, a plain
apron and mob cap next to it. He was aware of his heart racing, his breathing
quickened and he suddenly felt lightheaded as the room began to spin.
“Oh
dear…” he heard a voice say “I do believe he is going to faint.”
Claude’s
brain received a sudden jolt as the smelling salts found their way through his
nasal passage to their destination, his eyes opened and through the clearing
haze he made out the three female faces peering into his.
“The
stronger sex!” one of them laughed in a derisory tone.
“Wh…what
happened…”he said, his eyes blinking and trying hard to focus and became
vaguely aware he was reclining on a chaise longue with three familiar faced
looking down on him.
“Oh
you only had a little fainting episode.” another said and he recognised his
aunt’s voice.
“Nothing
to be concerned about.” the Countess said “Most girls your age get them at
certain times of the month.”
The
remark brought sympathetic smiles to the three women’s faces.
“Now
it’s time we finished your dressing.” His aunt said “We can’t have you prancing
about in your lingerie after all.”
“Li…linge…lingerie…”he
spluttered and looking down he was horrified to see he was wearing ladies silk
pantaloons gathered tightly at the knees with pink ribbons and underneath this
soft garment dark coloured silk stockings hugged his legs, his feet encased in
ankle boots with a two inch heel. Over his torso was a fine linen chemise with
delicate lace edging.
“A…aah…you…cannot…I…”
he babbled incoherently as his aunt and the Countess lifted him and steered him
towards the bed once more. As they moved slowly he noticed his clothes, his
male clothes, folded in a neat bundle on a chair.
“Oh
you can forget about those my dear.” The Countess said “ You won’t be needing
them for quite some time.”
“Now,
young man,” Miss Strangelove said sternly as she gestured at the clothes on the
bed, “you have a choice to make.”
His
mouth became as dry as sandpaper and he felt his knees weaken. The vial of
smelling salts was once more placed under his nose and the weakness
disappeared.
“Mrs
Coldstrap…” Miss Strangelove said pointing at the drab brown scullery maid’s
uniform and her finger then pointed to the silk gown.“Or… your dear aunt? It is
your choice.”
He
remained silent, the evolving shock of his predicament rendering him
speechless.
“I
suspect young Claude is much like my son.” the Countess, turning to his aunt
shook her head and sighed “ Quite obstinate and wilful not attributes welcomed
at St. Jude’s however as you saw dear
Emily, Mrs Coldstrap will soon dissuade him of such ridiculous notions.”
“After
witnessing the transformation of your son Countess,” Miss Strangelove said “I
thought he would have had more sense. Such a pity, I suppose I had better ring
for Mrs Coldstrap.”
At
the sound of the name the fog cleared from Claude’s brain, he looked at his
aunt and still unable to speak his eyes pleaded with her to intervene but she
remained resolute and just as Miss Strangelove’s hand reached for the cord for
the servants bell Claude finally found his voice.
“Th..this…d…”he
spluttered, the quiver in his voice noticeable to all as his hands
trembling touched the satin gown, ”this
dress…please Aunt Emily.”
“Oh
Claude I am so pleased.” Aunt Emily gushed “I did not wish to lose you to Mrs
Coldstrap although having seen Maria earlier perhaps it may be better to leave
you here.”
“Oh…
no…no…I…” Claude blurted as his eye caught Miss Strangelove with her hand still
clutching the cord for the servants’ bell “Please…please Aunt I really like
thus dress.”
The
panic that rose inside him dwarfed the shame of the words he just uttered, in
his mind’s eye he could see himself dressed in the horrible scullery maid’s
uniform, toiling under the dark stare of Mrs Coldstrap and her ghastly
assistants.
“He
does appear to be genuine.” The Countess intervened and Claude rewarded her
faith in him by nodding vigorously.
“Yes…yes…
I am…truly.”
“Well
in that case…”Aunt Emily said and picked up the long heavy corset “ I suppose
we had better get you dressed before you give Miss Strangelove reason to summon
Mrs Coldstrap. Now position yourself here in front of the bedpost while the
Countess and I fit your corset.”
With
the vivid image of Mrs Coldstrap still looming large in his brain Claude
quickly did as he was told.
“I
think you know what to do now Claude.” his aunt said.
Claude
without hesitation held on to the bedpost and closed his eyes in shame.
“What
a clever boy.” the Countess laughed lightly.
“Yes,
he has been present on several occasions over the years when I was being
dressed by my maid.” Aunt Emily replied as she placed the long corset around
his torso as the Countess lent her assistance by adjusting it so the heavy
garment fitted into place.
It extended for several inches down his
thighs, his aunt and the Countess fussed and tugged the corset until they were
satisfied it was in the correct position both at chest and thigh level. His
eyes still firmly shut Claude heard their remarks on how well the corset suited
his frame, how it would greatly enhance his figure and how it would also ensure
his masculine gait would be curtailed somewhat. He manfully held back the tears
as he felt them jerking and pulling the heavy material into place and through
the light fabric of the chemise he could feel the corset’s boning press against
his body. As his aunt had said he had been summoned to her boudoir on many
occasions to discuss vague and flimsy issues, perhaps something to do with his
vacation plans or his circle of friends. However once there he was unnerved and
emasculated by being in such a feminine realm and unable to find a reasonable
excuse to leave he was compelled to remain and witness her being dressed by her
maid. This also happened with other aunts and even the odd time with his mother
particularly when he had been somewhat delinquent in his actions.
Now
finding himself in such a dreadful situation he was only too well aware of what
lay ahead and the abject humiliation that would soon follow. Had he not
witnessed this uniquely feminine scene several times? The images flashed into
his brain, he recalled Aunt Emily wincing as her maid methodically laced her
into the ghastly garment him while she groaned slightly with each tug. After taking
a moment to adjust her mind and body to the vice like grip of her stays, her
dressing continued with the maid layering her in petticoats of different
fabrics.
These
were the appalling thoughts that played out inside the young man’s head, his
eyes remained closed in anticipation of the unspeakable ignominy that was about
to befall him and as he felt the first tug on the corset’s laces his body
jerked slightly. From experience he knew without having to be told to grip the
bedpost as the lacing continued.
“He
is obviously aware of the procedure.” The Countess noted as his aunt now concentrated
on the upper section of the corset and as she pulled the laces from bottom to
top he felt the corset clench his upper torso.
“Oh
yes Magdalena, he is quite acquainted with the intimate details of a lady’s
boudoir.” Aunt Emily answered brightly as she patiently worked her way down the
corsets laces, his body jolting with each tug. “Isn’t that right Claude?”
When
he did not reply she tugged the laces abruptly and repeated the question.
“Yes
Aunt Emily.” he replied immediately, quickly realising he could not afford to
irritate his aunt.
“That’s
a good boy.” Aunt Emily said “Just remember to answer promptly when spoken to.
You’re not among those dreadful male friends of yours now.”
“Yes
my dear Claude,” the Countess said as she made some slight adjustments to the
corset’s front “You will soon be one of us and ladies are expected to behave in
a more civilised manner.”
Miss
Strangelove handed the countess a moulded piece of soft rubber and she nestled
it into the corset’s right cup. He gasped as he felt it settle against his
chest and when the second one was in place he could see the corset ‘s bust
protrude in a seemingly natural way.
“Yes
most satisfactory.” the Countess said “Quite natural in fact.”
“We
have developed an expertise in faux bosoms over the last several years.” Miss
Strangelove explained “They are most becoming, are they not?”
The
women laughed, nodding in agreement as Claude examined his new features with
alarm.
“Perhaps
you would you like to finish, Magdalena?” Aunt Emily asked her new friend.
“A
double knot I think.” the Countess, taking up position drew the laces a little
tighter, his gasp was audible as she leaned forward spoke softly into his ear.
“We don’t want your first corset to loosen, now do we Claude?”
“No,
Countess.” Claude, mindful of his aunt’s warning, answered immediately.
“I’ve
chosen my three favourite petticoats for you Claude.” Aunt Emily smiled,
gesturing to the garments draped across the satin quilted bed.
Claude
winced at the sight and froze as the Countess picked up the first one.
“You
know what to do Claude.” his aunt said and the young man bent down
slightly with his arms outstretched to
allow the Countess to slip the delicate cream silk petticoat over them and the
settle the it over his corseted hips
where she drew the string and tied it into a neat knot. Miss Strangelove
repeated the action with the second a satin petticoat a deeper shade than the
first. He could almost hear his masculinity’s screams being quietly muffled as
the womanly undergarments covered his hips and legs with their insidious
femininity. By the time his aunt lifted the third petticoat- a taffeta creation
in a delicate shade of ivory with a deep
frilled hem -over his head and tied it in place, Claude felt a single tear run
down his cheek which quickly turned into a trickle.
“Yes
it is quite emotional.” The Countess, her voice soft and emphatic, comforted
him as she dabbed the tears away with her lace handkerchief “And I’m sure those
are the first of many tears but what we are doing really is for your own good
and do not be ashamed of failing to mount a more manly resistance. If you had shown
any defiance you would not be here dressed in these beautiful clothes.”
The
Countess motioned towards a full length mirror to his left and catching a glimpse
of himself he turned away and gently began to sob and as his tears continued to
flow she continued,
“I’m
afraid you would have met the same fate as my son. You would at this very
moment be dressed in that plain, dull scullery maid’s uniform, slaving under
the stern and watchful gaze of Mrs Coldstrap…possibly for months and then
possibly an even longer period as a housemaid under Judith. Now aren’t you glad
you made the right choice?”
Being
forced into a corset and petticoats was indeed a most traumatic experience however
even though his mind was in turmoil and his masculine strength had deserted
him, deep inside he knew that the Countess spoke the truth. The images he had
witnessed earlier had been seared into his brain and he knew he would do
anything, anything including allowing himself to be dressed as a girl, to avoid
incarceration in this dreadful institution. Aunt Emily had indicated that this
was the price he must pay if he was to avoid such a dreadful fate.
The
Countess placed her finger under his cheek and raised his head and their eyes
met.
“Y..yes…yes
Countess.” he murmured as she continued to wipe away his tears.
“That’s
a good boy.” she smiled and nodded to his aunt who began fastening a device
around his waist.
“Oh…please…no…please…Aunt…”he
jabbered.
“Yes
Claude.”Aunt Emily said firmly as she tied the bulky apparatus around his
waist, ensuring it sat securely over his buttocks. “You know only too well that
every lady wears a bustle, it is not only fashionable but will give you a
distinctly feminine silhouette. And do stop whining before I change my mind and
have Miss Strangelove summon Mrs Coldstrap.”
The
mention of the name was sufficient to bring Claude to his senses.
“Yes
Aunt.” he replied meekly anxious that he did not upset her.
“He
should be honoured.” Miss Strangelove said “Only the most senior girls in St
Jude’s are allowed to wear them.”
Claude
had little time to think about her remark as the Countess and his aunt were
already lifting the dress over his head, arranging it to ensure the skirt fell
properly and without ceremony began placing his arms through the sleeves. With
beaming smiles the women busied themselves, the Countess adjusting his skirts while
his aunt buttoned up the back of the dress and with the closure of every button
he felt the gown’s bodice drawing tighter around his corseted torso. The
sleeves seemed as tight as a second skin and he suddenly became aware of the
sheer bulk and weight of the gowns skirt and the petticoats beneath.
A
sensation of utter weakness came over him but it was one more of the spirit
than of the flesh and was quickly followed by an even more profound emotion,
helplessness at the hands of these women.
Immediately
realising he was now trapped inside a satin gown, a sense of utter helplessness
descended on him and he now recognised he was now completely under his aunt’s
authority.
“Remarkable”
The Countess gushed as she stood back to admire her handiwork. “He looks quite
charming, still a little masculine perhaps but he is undoubtedly far prettier
than my own dear son. And yet… I think there is something missing.”
“Yes I agree, he does look reasonably
girlish.” Aunt Emily concurred, the merest tinge of disappointment in her
voice. Claude visibly cringed and held his skirts to keep his hands from
shaking, as his aunt added “But you are correct Magdalena there is something
amiss.”
Claude
steeled himself, stole a furtive glance at the mirror and gasped audibly. The
corset had shaped his male body into an unmistakably feminine form with a
distinctly female waist, the rubber breast forms gave him a reasonably
prominent bosom, the bustle added the uniquely feminine dimension of a womanly
derriere. However his face, framed by his shortish hair, and with its high
cheek bones, wide eyes and full pinkish lips seemed to oscillate between male
and female. His initial glimpse of the
disturbing reflection revealed delicate
features not out of place on a girl while a moment later a different angle
betrayed a more boyish appearance. It was extremely disconcerting and he could
feel tears welling up inside once more.
A boy in a dress he whimpered to himself.
“I
expect this will improve his appearance greatly.” Miss Strangelove said as she
stepped forward, he winced at the sight of what she held in her hands. Their
eyes met briefly and he held his hands to his chest suddenly becoming aware of
his jutting bosom and just how feminine a gesture this was. He immediately knew
another layer of femininity would be added which would further enhance his
girlish appearance.
Miss
Strangelove immediately recognised the fear in his eyes and smiled,
“It
will make your appearance much more credible. As your aunt and the Countess
have said you are reasonably passable as a girl but we really don’t with to
leave anything to chance, now do we?”
There
was agreement from the Countess and his aunt. There was no question of
resistance as deep down he knew she was right and the last thing he wanted was
to be seen as a boy in a dress. His eyes his fell to the floor as she settled a long and thick mane of dark hair on
his head and began to arrange it expertly into a simple but elegant arrangement
held in place by a number of discreet hairpins.
Claude
had to hold on to the bedpost to steady himself as the reflection he now saw
was now even markedly more feminine and he had to look closely for indications of any discernible
masculinity.
It
was yet another dreadful humiliating moment among the many he had endured over
the last hour, he could feel the blood drain from his face and his knees begin
to weaken. The Countess seemed to notice this even before he did and the vial
of smelling salts was once more placed under his nose, immediately reviving
him.
“We
can’t have you swooning like some nervous debutante.” she said as she gave him
a second dose which brought him sharply back to his awful new reality.
As
he was still trying to gather his senses, Aunt Emily had begun coating his
lower lip with a light pink substance.
“Pucker
your lips.” she instructed brusquely, he shamefully obeyed and presenting his
lips she added with a smile “That’s a good boy, we want you to be as pretty as
possible.”
When
his aunt had finished the Countess began dabbing some face powder over his
cheeks before turning him once more towards the mirror.
“Yes…oh
yes.” Miss Strangelove exclaimed “Much, much better.”
Claude
gasped once more and this time he had to peer even closer in an attempt to
locate his hidden masculine features. They were there of course, but now with
the addition of the feminine hairpiece, lip colouring and face powder, they
were now more difficult to discern. He took a few paces closer and as he did he
felt the full weight of his new female clothing impede his movement while
simultaneously the unmistakeable whisper of satin, silk and taffeta filled the
air with each step. He turned around to confront his tormentor and his skirts
obliged with yet more rustling of petticoats, his mouth opened but nothing
flowed from it, his brain was overwhelmed by the reflection and the sudden
awareness of his tightly constricted torso and voluminous skirts.
“I…ah…this…it’s…”meaningless
drivel eventually trickled from his lightly coloured pink lips.
“Yes
darling you do look extremely pretty.”Aunt Emily beamed, obviously
delighted with the results of her and her companions’ handiwork.
“Quite
remarkable ladies!” Miss Strangelove said in an excited voice “It’s quite rare
that such results are achieved on the first attempt. His masculinity seems to
have been almost completely diminished by his gown and new hairstyle. I think I recall only one other young man
that made such an impression on me on his first dressing.”
Claude
looked down on his bulky new feminine clothing, still trying to come to terms
with the dreadful situation his aunt had forced him into but suddenly all this
seemed to pale into insignificance as Miss Strangelove addressed Aunt Emily.
“Would
you consider him becoming a full time pupil? He would be such an addition to
the school.”
“What
do you think Claude.” his aunt asked him “Would you like to remain here I’m
sure you would make some wonderful friends.”
“Oh…oh
no…please…please Aunt Emily.” he whimpered clutching his voluminous skirts and
moving quickly to her side, his hands latching tightly on to her right arm.
“Take me home with you…please Aunt Emily…please, I beg you.”
“And
you will promise to be obedient and respectful.” his aunt answered.
“Oh
yes Aunt…yes…yes of course.”Claude blubbered, tightening his hold on her.
“Well…I
suppose the fact that you made no attempt to resist does stand in your favour.”
she conceded as she began to move towards the door with her nephew still
clinging to her arm.
“Such
a pity.” Miss Strangelove said as she opened the door for them“I’m sure he
would have enjoyed himself here among the other girls.”
Reaching
the top of the stairs the Countess joined them.
“Now
lift your skirts Claude, I’m sure you have seen ladies do this as they descend
stairs.” the Countess said “We don’t want you to trip and fall, displaying your
petticoats for all to see.”
“That
a good boy.” his aunt praised him as he gripped his cumbersome skirts in both
hands and gingerly placed one foot in front of the other, making his way slowly
down the stairs.
“It’s
as if he was wearing dresses all his life.” the Countess commended him much to
his obvious shame.
The
young man was relieved when he reached the last step, not only because he had
not tripped in the unwieldy clothing but that the hallway was empty of pupils.
At least that was one humiliation he would not have to endure. However just as
they made their way across expansive highly polished tiled floor two uniformed
figures appeared and moved towards the front door. Claude tried to look away
but his aunt and the Countess who had by now slipped her arm into his free one ensured he
was positioned in front of them.
Maria
opened the door and just like Claude cast his eyes downward in shame.
“Well
thank you so much Miss Strangelove, for facilitating my nephew’s
transformation.” Aunt Emily said shaking the Headmistress’s hand.
“It
was my pleasure Miss Parker-Burke.” Miss Strangelove replied “Seeing yet another male dressed in feminine finery gives
me and my staff an enormous sense of satisfaction, even if we cannot hold on to
him for a year or so. If he does not meet your expectations we would only be
too happy to welcome him back.”
Claude,
a shiver running down his corseted spine, flexed what little strength he had in
his arms and brought himself even closer to his two escorts.
“He
has assured me he will be compliant but if not…”Aunt Emily said but was almost
immediately interrupted by her nephew.
“Oh
I will Aunt, I will.” he blurted enthusiastically.
“You
see how intelligent Claude is, Maria?” the Countess addressed her son “If only
you had been as wise as he you would be at home with me instead of…well…
learning the error of your ways.”
“Yes
Madam.” the uniformed male housemaid with eyes still lowered, replied quietly
with a curtsy.
“At
least he is making progress Magdalena.” Aunt Emily interjected.
“I
will call again next week to check your progress reports with the Headmistress.
“the Countess said as she and Aunt Emily, with Claude between them moved
towards the door.
Claude
out of the corner of his eye could see a look of envy on the maid’s face as the
trio, skirts and petticoats rustling, moved through the door into the sunlight.
As the door closed behind them he heard a brusque female voice bark an order,
“Back
to your work Maria, you still have to polish the silver and the beds to make.”
Yet
another shiver went down his spine as he lifted his skirt and awkwardly entered
the carriage.
It
was only when they passed under the tall and foreboding wrought iron gates that
Claude felt a weight lift from his shoulders but now that this particular sword of Damocles had been removed
from over his head he once more became acutely aware of his ghastly feminine
apparel. He had no choice but to rest his hands across the enormous, weighty
swath of satin that now covered his lower body, the unfamiliar feminine
smoothness of the fabric sent more shivers through his body and he closed his
eyes hoping he would soon wake from this nightmare.
“I
think Claude likes his new gown.” the Countess laughed lightly, noticing his
discomfort.
“Yes
I think you do Claude.”Aunt Emily agreed, eyeing her nephew and Claude, aware
that at any time his aunt could order the carriage to return to St Jude’s, knew
the response that was required.
“Oh
yes Aunt Emily it is very nice.” he lied hoping his voice sounded vaguely
genuine.
“The
correct answer.” she answered with a knowing smile“You are a clever boy.”
Claude
breathed a sigh of relief but immediately recognised that from now on he could
not afford to upset his aunt in any way. The result would be a return to that
ghastly place and an even wore fate than his present one.
The
conversation for the remainder of the journey centred around his aunt’s plans
for Claude over the coming weeks and how she looked forward to having a well
mannered girl about the house once more. As they discussed this dreadful
arrangement Claude remained silent and began to make plans of his own. He had
realised he had left clothes in his
aunt’s house from a visit the previous year and he was determined that once everyone had retired for the night he
would take his opportunity and flee, never to return. He would never forgive
his aunt for her horrible behaviour although that may change if he increased his
allowance.
As
the carriage came to a halt outside Aunt Emily’s elegant townhouse the Countess
and his aunt alighted first with the help of the cab driver. When it was his
turn, instead of jumping down as would have normally done, he had to manoeuvre
his bulky and cumbersome skirts in order to get through the door of the
carriage. A large hand was extended and Claude knew he had to take it otherwise
he feared he would topple over into the street. He kept his face downward to
avoid the driver’s gaze.
“Don’t
worry Master Claude you are in safe hands.” the voice said, in shock Claude
looked up and saw the voice belonged to Gretchen.
“Miss
Strangelove has kindly given me Gretchen for a few weeks until we are sure you
are settled into your life.” Aunt Emily said quickly adding the caveat “Just in case you have any second thoughts.”
Claude
felt a twinge in his stomach and although this was a complication he could have
done without it made him even more determined to escape that very night.
“Now
come along Claude, there is something I wish you to see.” Aunt Emily said as she
guided him up the steps and just as they reached the door it was opened by
Jane, his aunt’s head housemaid.
“Good
afternoon Madam.” she said and curtsied, greeting the Countess with the same
solemnity.
She
then turned to Claude and in a faux respectful tone greeted him also.
“Good
afternoon Master Claude.”
He
blushed furiously and wanted to give her a verbal lashing but knew however dressed
as he now was, this was an impossibility. Not only would it sound ridiculous
but he was sure Gretchen would have dragged him back into the carriage and then
to St Jude’s.
“What
a beautiful gown. The colour really suits you.” her voice reeked of mockery.”But
you have so many upstairs to choose from, you are such a lucky young man.”
Claude
was speechless and looked to his aunt, his mouth agape.
“I
have decided Jane will be your lady’s maid from now on.” Aunt Emily explained
and before he could reply addressed Jane, “Have you made the arrangements?”
“Yes
Madam, you can view it from the blue drawing room.” Jane answered as her
mistress swept across the large hallway.
Once
inside the drawing room Aunt Emily took up a position at the bay window looking
out onto the spacious back garden.
“Come
here Claude.” she instructed, he felt the Countess’s hand in his as she led him
to his aunt, he was conscious once again of the voluminous skirts jutting out
from his hips, swishing as he moved across the room.
“There
is something I think you should see.” she said as through the window two
housemaids approached a large steel drum.
One of them poured some liquid into it and set it alight. The other held
a large canvas bag and when her mistress nodded her head one of the maids
reached into the bag and produced a pair of trousers.
“N…no…no…”he
blurted as the maid dropped the pants into the drum, the other servant reached
into the bag, a jacket and shirt were produced and shown with a smile to her
mistress before being thrown
unceremoniously into the rising orange flames “please…no…Aunt Emily…”
Claude
felt a familiar tightening in his stomach and the tears beginning to flow.
“Yes
Claude, you have no use for them now.” his aunt spoke softly “Your time in this
house will be spent dressed as a girl, you may as well accept that fact now as
it will make life much easier. If not, you can always return to St Jude’s.”
The
Countess moved to his side and consoled him.
“Don’t
be upset Claude, you will soon get used to wearing your new gowns, just look at
Maria he has become quite accustomed to wearing his uniform and I have no doubt
he would much prefer to be standing here in a beautiful satin gown than toiling
away as a housemaid in St Jude’s.”
Of
course Claude knew she was right but this did nothing to alleviate the young
man’s distress and the tears continued to flow.
“Shall
I prepare Mater Claude’s room Madam?” Jane asked her mistress.
“No
Jane.” Aunt Emily answered “As you can see the poor boy is extremely confused
by today’s events. It will be better if he has someone soothe and nurture him,
he will sleep in my bed tonight and the Countess has graciously offered to
comfort him also.”
Claude
was horrified, there seemed to be no escape from these dreadful women
“I’m sure Claude would welcome the company.
Isn’t that so my darling boy?” Aunt Emily asked but Claude could only sob
uncontrollably. She ignored his blubbering and added with a smile, “Yes I thought
you would. Now run along with Jane I have told her to instruct you in some very
basic feminine behaviour, how to sit properly and arrange your skirts, how to
gesture in a feminine way with your hands among other things. And of course how
to curtsy, I have guests for afternoon tea and I wish you to meet them so
unless you would prefer to be exposed as a young man in a dress I’d suggest you
obey Jane’s every command. She will be an excellent governess as well as a lady’s
maid.”
Claude,
his escape plan going up in smoke before his eyes, could only whimper and with
a nod from her mistress Jane took him by the hand and led him from the room.
Dazed
and confusion they moved across the hallway towards the wide ornate staircase.
“Just
imagine that Master Claude.” Jane sneered at the still whimpering young man. “There
will not be a minute of any day that you will not be under the control of, the
mistress, the Countess or myself. I am so looking forward to it, aren’t you?”
Claude’s
seemingly endless supply of tears continued unabated as Jane smirked,
“Come
along my pretty boy, you may be crying like a girl but you still have a lot to
learn. Now lift your skirts and follow me.”
The
End
Carrie
