Crime and Punishment

 

For some reason the first two short paragraphs were unreadable when I originally previewed/posted but it  should not matter to the story. 

The main character is Miss Cecily Wareham.

I'm really not sure when I'll be able to contribute anything further to the blog as there is a lot going on in my life and none of it good.

Thank you for your kind comments and support over the years, it was and is greatly appreciated.

Hope you will like this also.

Take care of yourselves and have a good Christmas.

Carrie

Crime and Punishment

Carrie P

She rose from her chair and smoothed her pencil skirt over her ample hips and walked slowly from the room into the spacious tiled vestibule, stopping to check her appearance in the large ornate mirror. Only too well aware of her status and authority, she was not a woman to be hurried and examined her expertly made up face closely. Satisfied that it required no re-touching, she fixed a stray strand of hair back into place and finally made her way towards the door, the distinctive sound of her four inch heels on the cold tiles echoing through the air.

Opening the door she was confronted with two heavy set policewomen either side of a young man with a pale and clearly anguished face. Behind them was another female police officer, her uniform identifying her as a Chief Inspector?

“Miss Wareham, I am Chief Inspector Joyce. We spoke on the telephone.” the Chief Inspector stepped forward, introduced herself and gesturing  to the young man, she added in an undisguised disdainful voice “I believe this person is known to you.”

Cecily Wareham looked at the miserable figure that was unable to meet her eye, she held her gaze for several seconds before addressing the Chief Inspector.

“And my other servant, Chief Inspector?” she eventually enquired.

The young man winced at the term but considering his present circumstances was in no position to contradict his employer.

“In custody, Madam.” Chief Inspector Joyce replied and gestured to her subordinates to release the terrified young man and return to their car parked at a discreet distance away.

“Please come in Chief Inspector.” Miss Wareham, with an elegant motion of her hand invited the policewoman to enter “I am most interested to hear of your investigations.”

The Chief Inspector, with a firm hold on the young man, followed her through the hallway into the gracefully appointed drawing room.

“I would offer you tea Chief Inspector,” Miss Wareham said, regarding the increasingly anxious young man with a cold gaze “But as you know, I now have no maid.”

“Quite all right, Madam.” Chief Inspector Joyce answered in a most deferential voice and as if to ingratiate herself even more she cast her disapproving eyes in the young man’s direction. For a moment he thought she was going to curtsy. “We apprehended your servant yesterday and have recovered your stolen jewellery, she is currently being questioned and we expect to charge her later today. This young man was in her company when she was apprehended however, he is denying all knowledge of the theft and said it was pure coincidence he happened to be with her at the time. He has also stated he was in your company for several hours on the day of the theft.”

“I see.” Miss Wareham said gravely as she observed the young man with a vaguely disenchanted expression.

It was a look that he knew well from previous experience, one that gave him cause for concern as it was usually followed by verbal chastisement or on certain occasions...he cringed at the memory, something far worse and dreadfully humiliating. In his current precarious position he would gladly accept such admonishment if it meant securing her support which was vital if he was to convince the police of his innocence.

The Chief Inspector paused briefly before continuing,

“Of course we would not usually release a suspect until we had concluded our enquiries, but this person insisted you could confirm his alibi that he had accompanied you to various establishments on the day your jewellery disappeared.  Naturally, as a lady of your social rank, I did not wish to embarrass you by requesting that you attend at the police station.”

“That was very thoughtful and discreet of you Chief Inspector. I am most grateful. ” Miss Wareham gave the Chief Inspector a well practiced patrician smile before turning her attention to the young man.” Yes Florence, has been performing various administrative tasks while my own secretary is indisposed.”

“Flor... did you say Florence, Miss Wareham?” the Chief Inspector blurted, a bemused look on her face as she looked once more in his direction to ensure they were speaking about the same person. “I understood his name was...” she consulted her notebook and utter a name.

“Yes, I believe it is.” she replied unruffled by the Chief Inspector’s obvious baffled expression. “However, I call all my secretaries Florence. They change so often I could not keep up with all the new names. It more efficient don’t you think?”

She looked at the increasingly incredulous policewoman and then in the direction of her red faced secretary.

“Ah yes...I see your confusion.” she laughed, suddenly becoming aware of Chief Inspector’s Joyce’s puzzlement at what she obviously considered a most unusual convention. She paused for a moment and gazed intently at the young man before continuing with a barely disguised smirk. “Yes, I suppose he could be considered male but I saw this as no good reason to change my policy. Besides, I don’t think he finds the name objectionable, do you Florence?”

Of course he did. He cringed every time she addressed him by that awful female name, feeling demeaned by her total disregard not only for his name but his male dignity. What was worse, her friends, who were frequent visitors to the house, quickly became aware of his humiliating nom de femme.  Adding insult to injury, whenever he was present in their company they used female pronouns when referring to him, ‘she is quite efficient.’  ‘is that her natural colour hair.’ and similar comments. He was greatly affronted by such casual disregard for his masculinity even though these ladies seemed blissfully unaware of the embarrassment and offence their remarks caused.

However, fear has a way of quickly eroding pride and concentrating the mind. Such an illustrious name as Miss Wareham appearing on his resume would help to open many doors in his future career. He considered it would not only be foolish but harmful for him to register any disapproval. For his strategic plan, he quickly learned to swallow his male pride.

 Now, in his present difficult circumstances, his career was the last thing on his mind and it was imperative that he remained in her good graces, he could not risk anything that would  upset her. He knew he was innocent but there were gaps in his alibi not to mention problematic circumstantial evidence, her support and protection were now vital. At that precise moment she could have called him any name she choose and he would have answered to it.

 He was acutely aware his whole future was now in this woman’s hands. He was far too realistic and pragmatic to allow mere self-respect to jeopardise it.

“Oh no, Miss Wareham.” he gushed and managed a deferential but nervous smile “Not at all.”

From the corner of his eye he noticed the hint of a sneer on the policewoman’s face but there was too much at stake to show his displeasure.

“And was...”Chief Inspector Joyce continued, as she visibly struggled to contain her amusement, “...ahem...Florence with you throughout the entire afternoon?”

“Well most of it.” Miss Wareham answered.

“Most of it.” the Chief Inspector repeated and a trace of suspicion crept into her voice “So there were times he was out of your sight.”

“He accompanied me to a number of establishments in the morning.” Miss Wareham said, recollecting the day in question. “A hair appointment, some shoe shopping, my lawyer.”

“And he was with you all this time?” Chief Inspector Joyce enquired.

 

“Well, I suppose when I met my lawyer, there would have been half an hour perhaps forty five minutes where I did not have sight of him.

 

“Mmm, I see.” the Chief Inspector considered her reply, her brow slightly furrowed and repeated, “forty five minutes.”

The young man’s heart quickened and now expected the Chief Inspector to turn her attention to him, he desperately tried to remember what he’d done in that time. However to his surprise and his relief she continued with Miss Wareham.

“And your movements in the afternoon, Madam?”

“Oh, he was with me all afternoon.” Miss Wareham replied confidently and the young man could feel the beginning of another ripple of heat in his cheeks.

“He accompanied me to my corsetiere.” Miss Wareham declared without hesitation. “I had a fitting for several new  items of foundations wear. Isn’t that correct, Florence?”

“Foundation wear!”The Chief Inspector asked unable to conceal her surprise as she glanced at the young man who sheepishly confirmed his employer’s statement with an embarrassed nod.

“Yes, it was my maid’s day off.” Miss Wareham, continued, giving a snort of derision at the memory of the fateful day, “Or should I say my thief’s day off. It would appear it was her opportunity to betray my trust and steal my jewellery.”

The Chief Inspector nodded in a sympathetic manner as Miss Wareham continued,

“As a woman I’m sure you can appreciate Chief Inspector, I required assistance particularly as some of my new foundations require lacing and I knew the corsetiere would be short staffed.”

The Chief Inspector looked contemptuously at increasingly uncomfortable and clearly self-conscious young man. His discomfiture did not escape Miss Wareham’s notice.

“So he acted as your maid on the day in question?” the policewoman asked, addressing Miss Wareham but not taking her eyes from her prisoner.

“I never thought of it like that.” Miss Wareham answered and for the first time the young man could see her features softened and a smile appeared on her handsome face. “Yes I suppose you could say he served as my maid for the day. Actually to be truthful, he has performed similar duties previously, on several occasions when my...” she paused and corrected herself before continuing , her face suddenly changing and taking on a distasteful look, “that deceitful girl was absent. Isn’t that correct Florence?”

 He nodded sheepishly and lowered his eyes.

“Well is your mistress correct, boy?”

“Yes Miss Wareham.” he replied in a barely audible voice and silently beseeched Miss Wareham not to elaborate, he breathed a  sigh of relief as she continued.

“No need to be so bashful, Florence.” Miss Wareham, her demeanour reverted once more into a more relaxed manner and she laughed lightly “You should be proud, after all you are the only male to have set foot inside such an exclusively feminine establishment. In fact with those delicate features you were quite indistinguishable from the other young girls present. Afterwards I learned that they thought it odd that girl would wear male clothing.”

“That was so amusing Florence.”she laughed softly

His face took on a bright pink glow which was deepening by the second and quickly becoming a noticeable blush but he knew he had to respond positively.

“Oh yes Miss Wareham.” he managed to say almost convincingly.

Satisfied he was sufficiently embarrassed, Miss Wareham turned to the Chief Inspector,

“Not one of the women present, including the sales assistants, considered his presence objectionable even though I insisted he was male. In fact they said that if he was wearing a skirt instead of trousers they would have scarcely noticed any difference from our own sex. And the dear boy has such a docile manner. Yes Chief Inspector, he blended in quite well.”

The young man’s cheeks had now become distinctly red and he lowered his head in shame. There was no point in denying it as every word she uttered was true.

“Yes I can understand that.” Chief Inspector Joyce said, her voice low with a hint of vague menace, she placed a finger underneath his chin and lifting his head she peered into his mortified eyes. “We almost made a similar mistake and placed him in the female cells, it was several hours before a commotion alerted us to the error. Fortunately we rescued him in time. ”

This was a source of amusement for both women and seeing their reaction he felt his face burn with mortification.

“And he remained in the corsetiere’s for how long exactly?” the Chief Inspector asked, finally composing herself.

“As I said Chief Inspector, like many ladies in my position I usually have assistance when dressing and undressing and Florence here provided that assistance. ” Miss Wareham answered.

“So he was there for the duration of your stay.” the Chief Inspector repeated incredulously.

“Yes, of course. In fact one or two of my friends arrived without their maids and he assisted them also so, they can also vouch for him. He has become quite capable at...” Miss Wareham hesitated for a few seconds and looked once more at her secretary.

“Being your maid?” the Chief Inspector volunteered as she too stared at him.

“Well I was going to say, serving me in a number of ways.” Miss Wareham said “But I suppose you are correct. Attending to me in such an establishment is really the function of a maid.”

The words cut him like a cold razor blade. It had now become abundantly clear to him that his ambitions for his future career had come at quite a cost. He had convinced himself any request from his employer, no matter how humiliating or debasing, was worth it if it achieved his ultimate goal- entry into the same circles as Miss Wareham. Being compared to a maid was indeed a new low for his masculine pride but was now the time to remonstrate with his employer? She would hardly take kindly to being upbraided by him in front of the police.  The vision of the large, burly and uncouth women in the police cells loomed large in his mind and he visibly shivered.

No, he immediately decided now was not the time. He needed her protection and perhaps with some luck he could even salvage his career prospects.

“A male in such an exclusively feminine sphere.” the Chief Inspector mused on such an   outrageous notion “It is most unconventional almost... bizarre. I would like to hear more... if you don’t mind of course, Miss Wareham.”

The young man froze as Miss Wareham settled herself on the large blue damask sofa, smoothed her skirt and casually checked to see if the black lace of her slip was showing. Satisfied her lingerie was concealed, she gestured the Chief Inspector to join her but kept her eyes trained on the clearly anxious male figure in front of her and addressed him in a soft yet commanding voice,

“Florence, you may sit between us.

A refusal was out of the question, he quietly eased himself into the space between the two women.

“Legs, Florence.” Miss Wareham issued the instruction brusquely; he immediate drew his knees together and crossed his legs at the ankles, he then tilted his legs at a slight angle. It was an undeniably feminine pose.

“Good girl.”Miss Wareham praised him with a smile and a pat on the knee.

Both women noticed the unambiguous wince on his face at her appreciative remark but neither made any remark, they merely continued to smile at him.

“He is very well trained, Miss Wareham.” the Chief Inspector observed with a smirk.

“Yes, much easier to mould than my last girl.” the older woman replied. “Isn’t that right Florence?”

The rebuke he had received from the Chief Inspector minutes earlier had made him even more nervous and his response was immediate.

“Yes, Miss Wareham.” he replied and in a demure manner automatically folded his hands in his lap.

The gesture brought further praise from his employer as she patted his cheek with an  affection that was genuine. Although, this initially instigated yet another sensation of shame it was almost immediately replaced with one of relief, a strange feeling of comfort that he now appeared to have earned her favour.

“Now, where were we?” Miss Wareham said absentmindedly “Ah yes Chief Inspector, the corsetiere...”

As Miss Wareham began speaking, the young man cringed and recalled the sacrifices he’d made in pursuit of his ambitions, the many humiliations he’d endured, the countless ignominies suffered, these would now be laid bare in front of yet another female. Most of these took place in the confines of this house or occasionally in the houses of his employer’s friends and dreadful as these incidents were, at least they occurred in a private setting. The nightmarish episode Miss Wareham was about to recount to the Chief Inspector was in a more public space and his mortification had been witnessed by an entire squadron women of all ages and social positions from dowagers to shop assistants.

He had wished to erase this dreadful incident from his memory and attempted to block out his employer’s voice as he could not tolerate the account of his latest indignity to reach his ears. Unfortunately, try as he might there was little he could do to prevent those hideous  scenes playing out in his mind’s eye.

The visit to the corsetiere was far too recent and too hideous to have been able to lock away inside his subconscious mind and now Miss Wareham’s recollection brought the entire affair to the surface once more.

He cringed at the recollection of walking through the tall doors of the emporium. Miss Wareham had given him no inkling of what type of establishment they were visiting but within seconds of the large dark teak doors closing behind him he knew he had stepped into another realm. He was unprepared for the sights that greeted him, women of various ages, shapes and sizes, dressed expensively and elegantly wandering about with sales assistants following them like obedient poodles.  Mannequins dressed in every conceivable item of foundation wear were littered abundantly around the spacious foyer with mothers and daughters discussing the merits of the garments on show. Long glass counters supported plastic torsos and busts displaying various styles of girdles and brassieres. Silk and satin slips were displayed on other mannequins. The venue exuded femininity. He immediately recognised what a ghastly situation he was in and drew himself closer to Miss Wareham much like a child when seeking the protection of a parent. He hoped her presence would somehow form a magical shield around him which would render him invisible to the patrons examining the formidable wares on display.

“And you say they did not immediately recognise there was a male accompanying you?” he heard the Chief Inspector voice drift into his head.

“You must understand Chief Inspector, his wardrobe consists mainly of ghastly, cheap male clothing which would offend any women of taste. Naturally I am mindful of my reputation and as he was accompanying me I did not wish to be embarrassed.”

The Chief Inspector nodded empathetically.

“I suppose the fact he was wearing one of my high- waisted, wide legged pleated pants and a powder blue silk shirt with bishop sleeves, may have helped him in some way to blend in.” Miss Wareham answered with a smile of admiration and once more patted his knee, reassuring him. “You did look so fashionable, Florence. I saw many of the girls looking at you with envy.”

The young man shifted uncomfortably as the Chief Inspector examined him once more, he could easily tell from her face she was trying to visualise the outfit described, after a few moments nodded her understanding.

“Yes, I imagine he did.” An approving smile appeared on the Chief Inspector’s face.

“It was only when, Miss Concannon, the owner and a woman I have known for many years, asked if he was my niece I felt obliged to divulge his true sex.” Miss Wareham laughed at the recollection before adding “At first she didn’t believe me as she could see shoulder straps through his blouse... or rather his shirt.”

“Shoulder straps?” the Chief Inspector inquired a note of puzzlement in her voice.

“Yes.”Miss Wareham answered, her face taking on a look of maternal concern “It was a little chilly for the time of year and I did not wish the poor boy to feel cold so I insisted he wear one of my camisoles. A particular favourite of mine in heavy satin with scalloped lace at the neckline and shoulder straps. Unfortunately it was a little darker than his blouse and the straps and the lace were slightly visible. I suppose in retrospect it was an unfortunate choice of colour. However, the ensemble obviously impressed Miss Concannon and when I addressed him as Florence she smiled at him and seemed to ignore my revelation that he was indeed male. I recall her reassuring him and not to be worried as her clientele would be unlikely, like her, to notice any trace of his masculinity.”

Although he recoiled at the memory he did take some small comfort. He could see Miss Wareham’s face had softened considerably while recounting that dreadful incident and he sensed her attitude was becoming increasingly more tolerant to him than when he first appeared at her door. He steeled himself for what was to come and knew that if he was to avoid returning to the police station with the Chief Inspector he would have to endure his mortification without any display of anger or even mild annoyance.

“Of course my corsetiere was correct, Chief Inspector.” Miss Wareham continued “Apart from a few vaguely disapproving glances, as he was the only one wearing pants. Some  ladies do not wish to encourage their daughters to wear pants as they find it unfeminine however, none of the other patrons seemed to notice anything unusual about him.”

He desperately attempted to hide his rising discomfiture as she recounted, much to the Chief Inspector’s growing interest, how Miss Concannon escorted him to one of the counters and began selecting various sturdy  garments, some with laces dangling from them, others with heavy duty zippers and yet others with a variety of buckles and straps. Each garment, formidable as it was, nevertheless was rendered more pleasing on the eye by the heavy satin front and back panels. Even the heavy corselettes although obviously unyielding were made more attractive though a combination of heavy satin and intricate lacework on the garments brassiere cups. He remembered the knowing smirk on Miss Concannon’s face as she laid each garment one by one onto his outstretched hands until they reached almost to his chin.

He suddenly became aware of both women staring at him. As both he and Miss Wareham knew this was not the first time he had handled ladies foundations and he dearly hoped she would not divulge this to the Chief Inspector who, by now, was sitting at the edge of her seat.

“He must have been most uncomfortable.” the Chief Inspector stated the obvious.

“As any male would.” Miss Wareham confirmed with a smile “But I suspect he became even more so when he spotted my dear friend, Lady Mantell. You should know that on the occasions when she visits me, he tries to convey an outward display of self-assured masculinity, so to find himself in such feminine surroundings and now laden down with female foundation wear must have been somewhat embarrassing.”

“Not to mention his...”the Chief Inspector paused and turned to him with a contemptuous smirk “girlish outfit.”

Both women laughed at the remark and he felt a familiar warmth rise in his cheeks as the memory flooded back and he dreaded having this ghastly scene shared with another human being. His eyes pleaded with Miss Wareham to discontinue the conversation but she the Chief Inspector had once again gained her attention.

“It took Lady Mantell a full minute to recognise him.” Miss Wareham blurted, her voice tinged with a degree of self-satisfaction at her part in his transformation, the young man cringed at the recollection and knew the Chief Inspector would be treated to a full account of his hideous ordeal.  

“Of course, she was astonished at his appearance and took some time to examine him to ensure her eyes did not deceive her.” Miss Wareham explained “And I noticed her attitude towards him became quite agreeable, quite friendly, in fact. Isn’t that so, Florence?”

By now his cheeks were a rosy hue but he could not deny the truth. Lady Mantell’s previously dismissive demeanour towards him had vanished, replaced by a more amicable attitude. He was ashamed to conclude that his unmanly clothing could quite easily ingratiate him to a leading and well-connected  society matron as Lady Mantell.

“Yes, Miss Wareham.” He was forced to agree and as she began to recollect how both women guided him towards the dressing room.

“Surely Miss Wareham, he was not present when you...”the Chief Inspector said, her incredulous as she looked at the young man, whose  eyes were now fixed firmly on the floor “...when you undressed.”

“You should understand Chief Inspector,” Miss Wareham replied “I am quite relaxed regarding... shall we say, appearing  au natural.”

“But in front of...”the Chief Inspector gestured at the young man, whose cheeks continued to glow crimson, “a male.”

“A male!, oh come now, Chief Inspector. ” Miss Wareham exclaimed, her face unable to disguise her surprise at her companion’s remark, which served to deepen the redness in the young man’s cheeks. “Do you really consider Florence here, a male? I suppose if one was to stretch one’s imagination, a case could be made as he may possibly possess the male sex organ but just regard his features. They undoubtedly lack any masculine characteristics, high cheekbones, full lips, wonderfully long eyelashes, those delicate small hands. I grant you, the nose could be a tad more feminine but I really doubt he could be described in any meaningful way as a male. And as you said earlier, in the police station you initially assigned him to the female cells.”

The Chief Inspector once more examined the blushing figure in front of her.

“Yes Miss Wareham.” she replied “You are right of course, how silly of me.”

“Once a male is left in no doubt of his inferiority and subjugation to a confident female, any notion of masculine superiority evaporates.” Miss Wareham declared in a supremely self-assured voice “Obedience and timidity immediately follow and the male is quite easily house-trained.  I find there is little difference between a male in this condition and a girl new to domestic service. Conditioned in this way I cease to view these creatures as male so undressing in front of one is no different than disrobing into front of you or any other member of our sex.”

The Chief Inspector nodded her understanding, her severe features softened somewhat and she now seemed to regard the young man with less animosity and for a moment he thought he detected a faint smile.

 He desperately wanted to flee as Miss Wareham began to recount in minute detail for the Chief Inspector of how he was ushered into the large and well appointed dressing room by the two women.

“Lady Mantell was surprised at how efficient he was at undressing me.” Miss Wareham continued as she glanced at the young man, his eyes remained locked on to some spot on the floor as he knew what she was about to say “Of course it was not the first time he had performed this task, isn’t that correct Florence?”

Silence was not an option and noting the Chief Inspector’s change of attitude towards him he answered softly,

“No Miss Wareham, it was not the first time.”

“Of course he is not as adept as a maid or indeed another female but once guided correctly he is quite competent... for a male.” Miss Wareham said “ He had little difficult unbuttoning my skirt and blouse but he seemed befuddled and disorientated when unzipping my corselette and it seemed to take him forever to undo the hooks and eyes. Lady Mantell eventually lost patience and had to show him how to do it. You would have found it quite amusing Chief Inspector if you had seen him quivering under Lady Mantell’s gaze as he finally completed such a simple exercise. It was even more entertaining to witness him trying to unhook my stockings from the corselette’s garters.”

Miss Wareham giggled at the recollection and he visibly winced, a bead or two of perspiration began to form on his forehead.

“I understand males confronted with the naked female form become...” the Chief Inspector paused, a scowl of disgust suddenly darkening her countenance. She self-consciously cleared her throat, unsure of how to continue.  

“Become aroused!” Miss Wareham interrupted helpfully.

“Well...yes.” the Chief Inspector replied quickly adding “the disgusting creatures.”

“He may have entered into to such a loathsome state but we did not notice any obvious sign.” Miss Wareham said and as the Chief Inspector began to speak Miss Wareham ignored her and continued “You see Chief Inspector, as I already told you he was wearing one of my palazzao pants but what I omitted to mention was, what he wore underneath.”

“I don’t understand.” the Chief Inspector blurted, as she glanced in the young man’s direction once more.

“As you can see, he is a size or two larger than me so in order to fit into my pants he required a little assistance.”

The Chief Inspector’s eyes widened, she uncrossed her legs and pressed her thighs together, a smile formed on her lips.

“Surely you don’t mean...” her voice faltered slightly and became a little higher.

“Well I could not have the poor boy walk around unable to close the zipper of the pants. It would have been most unbecoming.” Miss Wareham answered with a serious face “So naturally I had him put into one of my tighter high-waisted girdles, before the pants were  zipped up from the back.”

“Zipped from the back.” The Chief Inspector repeated with an unmistakable quiver of excitement. “Of course... of course, a typical feminine pair of pants. How wonderful!”

 “And even then it was a bit of a squeeze, isn’t that so Florence?”

Miss Wareham smiled at the young man, who by now, was visibly squirming with shame, his head hung low.

“Answer your mistress girl.” the Chief Inspector said, her breathing a little laboured  but her tone was more encouraging than demanding as she crossed her legs once more , the unmistakeable sound of nylon rubbing against nylon drifting into the air.

“Yes Miss Wareham.” he mumbled, his eyes remaining fixed on some vague point on the floor.

“No need to be embarrassed, my dear.” the Chief Inspector empathised in a reassuring, almost motherly tone as she gently rubbed his thigh, “We have all known the tyranny of the girdle. But, as you have experienced, a proper girdle does wonders for the figure and one becomes used to their tight embrace over time. Isn’t that so, Miss Wareham?”

“Indeed we do, Chief Inspector.”Miss Wareham patted his other thigh, allowing her hand to linger much longer than was necessary and laughed “Although it’s always a relief to take them off.”

Their uninvited attention had the unfortunate consequence of establishing a reaction, an unwanted and embarrassing one between his legs. To his horror he could not prevent his organ slowly swelling and despite mental gymnastics on his part the enlargement continued albeit at a slower rate. He reasoned that, with a bit of luck, it would not be noticed.

“I think you now understand the need for firm and controlling foundation wear, Chief Inspector.” Miss Wareham sighed wearily, her eyes drawing her companion’s notice to the small yet noticeable distension between his legs.

The young man’s heart sank but unfortunately his swollen member did not.

“Yech...such a ghastly sight. Revolting!”the Chief Inspector hissed, her face became contorted with disgust. “And I was beginning to think he was a decent individual, unlike those other dreadful males I occasionally come into  contact with.”

Visions of him being returned to the cells and the fate that awaited him there suddenly loomed large in his mind as the Chief Inspector continued,

“Miss Wareham, you really should not have an individual capable of such depravity under your roof.” Her voice rose and she became agitated as she pointed at the bulge in his trousers, “These...these...creatures are utterly depraved.”

“Yes I understand your concern, Chief Inspector.” Miss Wareham said in a calm voice as she continued to rub his thigh. “Fundamentally, I think he is a decent young man but unfortunately he is a victim of these ghastly, vile male urges and it appears, he just can’t help himself.”

“I think, for your safety, Miss Wareham,” the Chief Inspector, recovering from her bout of repulsion declared in a dispassionate tone “that he is removed from your house immediately and returned to the cells to await arraignment.”

The young man looked to his employer, his face had become quite pale and he felt his hands tremble.

Miss Wareham looked solemnly at the young man but there was no look of repugnance, not even a hint of mild censure,

“Isn’t this why I put you into one of my girdles Florence?” she said softly, “To avoid such a nasty display of bogus masculinity when in the presence of the gentle sex. I thought that you could be helped but perhaps the Chief Inspector is correct, it may be better if you were removed.”

“Oh no...no... please Miss Wareham.” He pleaded, his voice cracking with panic.” It was a...a...”

He could not find an adequate explanation and squeezed her hand in silent supplication his eyes wide in alarm.

“Momentary lapse...” she said helpfully.

“Yes...yes... a momentary lapse, It won’ happen again, I promise.” he pleaded. “Please let me stay I’ll work ever so hard, there are so many of your papers and writings need to be properly archived and reports written.”

The Chief Inspector was about to object but Miss Wareham spoke first.

“But what if such a dreadful thing should happen again?”

“Oh... Miss Wareham... it...” he spluttered, aware the eyes of the Chief Inspector were fixed on him.

“Madam.” Miss Wareham said quietly, her eyes meeting his.

He always avoided using this form of address as he found it servile and believed it an address only used by housemaids.

“Yes Madam.” he answered without giving it a second thought, any pride he possessed had long since been swallowed. “It will not happen again, I promise.”

“Males are slaves to their urges, you cannot guarantee such a ghastly and upsetting situation will not raise its ugly head again.” The Chief Inspector objected.

His mouth suddenly went dry as he knew she was right. His eyes silently pleaded with Miss Wareham.

“If I do accept you back into my household, what can we do to prevent such a dreadful reoccurrence?” she asked.

His eyes fell to the floor; he did not wish to answer although he knew he had to. Miss Wareham looked at him impatiently.

“You do wish to remain in my employ?” she asked, her finger lifting his chin so that their eyes met once more, he heard the Chief Inspector cough as if to seek permission to speak.

“Oh yes Madam...please...” he blurted eagerly.

 Miss Wareham continued, her tone becoming slightly irritable.

“Then what safety measures should we take to ensure there will not be any further disgusting  displays of male behaviour?”

He could practically feel the Chief Inspector’s breath on his neck and the smell of the police station cells in his nostrils, their threatening occupants loomed large in his mind’s eye once more. Surely anything would be preferable to such a fate. He knew the answer that would save him from incarceration, he had to close his eyes as the words formed in his mouth.

“A girdle... Madam.” he murmured and his eyes opened and began to mist, he felt a tear form.

“Oh do speak up Florence.” she admonished him “The Chief Inspector cannot hear you.” 

“I...I...”he swallowed hard and seeing her disapproving look, took a deep breath and raised his voice, “I should wear a girdle.”

“Are you sure? I would like to assure the Chief Inspector I am in no danger.”

The Chief Inspector’s face took on a look of scepticism, he saw she was about to raise an objection and he suddenly realised his fate was in the balance. There was a renewed urgency in his tone.

“Oh yes Madam...yes... definitely...a girdle. I should wear a girdle.”

“A wise decision, dear boy.” Miss Wareham smiled, her face softening once more as she  patted him on the thigh before she addressed the Chief Inspector, “Knowing he is securely girdled will give me a great deal of comfort Chief Inspector. As I have told you he has already experienced the beneficial effects of such a restricctive feminine garment.”

“I am not entirely convinced Miss Wareham. ”the Chief Inspector said, eyeing the young man suspiciously but he perceived her tone was not as hostile as before.”However, as you have recalled he was quite docile when he was girdled previously and if you are still willing to employ him until his arraignment then I have no objection but you will have to present him at the police station every week until then.”

He looked anxiously to Miss Wareham.

“I see no objection to that, do you Florence?” she said.

“Oh no, Madam.” he gushed, relief sweeping over him.

“Would it be an imposition, Chief Inspector,”Miss Wareham said “if you could check on him here rather than me having to visit a police station. We could take the opportunity to become better acquainted.”

“Of course Miss Wareham. I’d be delighted.” the Inspected gushed. “I suppose I could assess how efficient he is as a secretary, it would be helpful when I make my report to the judge.”

Miss Wareham was looking at the young man and seemed slightly distracted and her mind suddenly seemed to be elsewhere.

“Yes...yes...” Miss Wareham said, dragging her eyes away from him to face the Chief Inspector “of course...yes that would be most helpful.”

The young man, still giddy from his narrow escape, observed Miss Wareham and the Chief Inspector’s eyes meet and without a word being spoken the Chief Inspector rose from her seat, indicating her intention to leave.

“The idea of a firm ladies foundation garment controlling the ghastly male urge is most intriguing Miss Wareham.” the Chief Inspector said as she adjusted her skirt to her satisfaction” I would dearly like to see the results but unfortunately I have a very important engagement.”

“Oh that will easily be arranged, Chief Inspector.” Miss Wareham smiled, much to the unease of the young man.

 Miss Wareham accompanied her to the door, without a moment’s hesitation he moved ahead of them to open it and bowed his head, they continued their conversation, ignoring his gentlemanly gesture.

As they moved through the hallway he once again moved to the front door and opened it, feeling a sense of relief that he would soon be free of the Chief Inspector.

“I do hope you are not making a mistake reinstating him as your secretary Miss Wareham.” the Chief Inspector said placing her peaked hat on her head. “Despite even the most restrictive girdle, the male impulse may attempt to impose itself.”

“Perhaps you may right Chief Inspector.”Miss Wareham answered extending her hand to the other woman before her eyes returned to the timid figure holding on to the door as if his life depended on it. “Time will tell.”

 

Epilogue.

Chief Chief Inspector Joyce was still two metres away from the large oak door when she saw it open. Behind the capped and aproned housemaid that opened the door  stood an imperious woman dressed in a  pale gold dress of shimmering taffeta which flared out as a consequence of the several layers of stiff petticoats beneath. Her padded shoulders exaggerated the obviously well corseted waist.

“Welcome to Mantell Hall ChiefInspector “Lady Mantell smiled as she gestured to the uniformed maid beside her to fetch the policewoman’s cases from the waiting gleaming black Daimler.

“Thank you for the invitation Lady Mantell.” the Chief Inspector answered as Lady Mantell stepped forward and kissed her on the cheek. “Cecily has told me so much about you and how you were most helpful but more importantly, most discreet, regarding the most unfortunate incident at her home.”

As they walked across the highly polished black and white tiled floor, the silence broken by the sound of two pairs of heels clicking with every step, the Chief Inspector was the first to speak.

“Yes Lady Mantell, your invitation came as quite a surprise.” The Chief Inspector said, her eyes taking in the splendour of the spacious vestibule, her face clearly revealing her surprise and suppressed excitement at her good fortune to be invited to such an exclusive gathering of society matrons in the opulent surroundings of Mantell Hall.

“Miss Wareham is very kind,” the Chief Inspector continued “I was glad to be of assistance, but I was and remain concerned about the presence of a male...her secretary, in her home. She has taken some very necessary and wise precautions however, having witnessed some...ahem...disagreeable male characteristics ...I don’t think a male secretary is appropriate for a lady of Miss Wareham’s sensibilities and social standing.”

A tall thin woman dressed in a calf length black dress with a white starched and ruffled high collar approached them.

“I will have one of the housemaids bring the Chief Inspector’s luggage to her room, Madam.” she said

“Thank you Perkins.” Lady Mantell answered and gestured her companion towards the wide staircase.

“Perkins, my housekeeper is invaluable.” Lady Mantell said as they mounted the stairs together “She ensures my household runs like clockwork.”

“I’m curious Lady Mantell, and perhaps it is the policewoman in me,” the Chief Inspector said as they reached the top of the stairs “Why did you invite me for the weekend.”

“As I said you were very helpful to my dear friend and she also confided in me, that as you have already said, you were most concerned for her safety. I usually have a gathering of some very dear friends and I hoped to welcome you to our circle. This is a small gesture of my gratitude.”

The Chief Inspector smiled, she knew Lady Mantell to be one of the most prominent figures in society and had very powerful and influential friends. This could only benefit her career.

Coming to a halt at a door Lady Mantell knocked lightly, opened it and entered, Miss Wareham looked up from her desk and crossed the room.

 “Chief Inspector, how wonderful you could come.” she greeted the policewoman with a kiss on both cheeks. “You’re no doubt curious about your ‘person of interest” as I believe you policewomen say.”

“As you can see Chief Inspector, Miss Wareham is quite safe.”Lady Mantell laughed lightly.

“ I confess, Miss Wareham, I was most concerned about you, considering as how  we both witnessed your male secretary displaying such abhorrent masculine tendencies.” the Chief  Inspector replied, a note of apprehension in her voice as she looked around the room for any signs of the young man. “I’m not sure a male was the correct choice for such a position.”

Lady Mantell smiled but said nothing.

“That is so kind of you.” Miss Wareham said “But your presence was quite enough to ensure his obedience and for that I am extremely grateful as it solved a difficult problem for me.”

“Well, I suppose you did say he was efficient.” The Chief Inspector said, her eyes still discreetly searching the room.

“That’s not what I meant.” Miss Wareham said.

The policewoman  looked slightly puzzled.

“Perhaps a small sherry before we continue.” Lady Mantell said and gestured to the large sofa. Miss Wareham picked up a small silver bell and rang it.

“I believe you are acquainted with my maid, Chief Inspector.” Miss Wareham said as a fully uniformed servant in three inch heels tottered somewhat ungainly into the room and curtsied.

“You rang Madam?” the maid said and seeing the Chief Inspector gasped audibly.

“I...you mean...it’s ...”the Chief Inspector blurted as she took in the sight in front of her.

“Yes Chief inspector.” Miss Wareham said “The unfortunate incident with my jewels cost me a maid but after your visit that particular problem was solved. And I have regained another servant. An unusual arrangement, I grant you but needs must.”

“He has agreed to become ...”the Chief Inspector exclaimed, looking at both women and still coming to terms with the image before her, “...your maid.”

“Well not agreed, exactly.” Miss Wareham, looking at her new maid, laughed  “it was more of a mutual understanding. Considering the alternative, I believe he had little choice. But you are adapting to your new role. Isn’t that right, Florence?”

“Yes Madam.” the young man replied sheepishly, eyes downcast.

“And he does look the part, does he not, Chief Inspector?” Miss Wareham said with a self-congratulatory smile “Perhaps not as pretty as my previous girl but he has potential I think.”

“How... I... it’s almost...a male in a maid’s uniform...”the policewoman stammered, still scarcely believing her eyes.” You must tell me everything.”

“Oh it was quite simple really.” Miss Wareham replied “As I said once you had left I gave him a choice become my maid or I would immediately call you to have him returned to the cells.”

She looked at her maid who was becoming increasingly anxious.

“Of course there was pleading and tears but within fifteen minutes I had him in one of my corselettes, a slip and stockings. After that we visited the maid’s room and choose a grey morning uniform. It was a bit loose but fitted reasonably well. As I knew you were coming this weekend I wanted you to see him at his best so I had this one specially made for him. I hope you approve.”

The Chief Inspector still struggled for words but she nodded her approval.

“As he is new to domestic service,” Lady Mantell explained to the Chief Inspector “I’d suggested to Cecily that a few days under the guidance of Perkins, my housekeeper, would be most beneficial.”

She then addressed the maid.

“And have you have learned a lot about the duties of a housemaid, my dear?” Lady Mantell asked in a gentle tone.

“Oh yes, your ladyship.” he volunteered immediately and curtsied once more. “Miss Perkins is most helpful and kind.”

The Chief Inspector, after recovering from the surprise could tell that his response contained more than a degree of trepidation. Her recollection of Perkins face was anything but kind

“And you are beginning to like your new position?” Lady Mantell continued.

“Oh yes, your ladyship, it is most rewarding.” the maid repeated with an enthusiasm that seemed to the Chief Inspector more forced than genuine. He paused for a moment or two and looking at Miss Wareham and continued “My mistress is most kind in giving me the opportunity to be her maid.”

“And such a lovely uniform your mistress has provided you with. My own servant girls are so jealous.” Lady Mantell said “The Chief Inspector was concerned about those hideous male parts you possess. Why don’t you lift your skirts and let her see how they have been...shall we say... adjusted in order to allow you to function as a properly trained servant girl.”

The Chief Inspector thought she saw a moment’s hesitation but if there was one it quickly passed and he lifted his skirt and several layers of petticoats to reveal an almost knee length  girdle with heavy satin panelling that reach to his lower ribcage. The groin area was quite smooth and seemed devoid of male genitalia.

“As you can see Chief Inspector,” Miss Wareham “There is little danger of a repeat of what you witnessed when we last met. Please feel free to examine her yourself.”

Despite his utter shame, the Chief Inspector could see the young man winced visibly at Miss Wareham’s use of the pronoun ‘her’.  He closed his eyes as the policewoman’s hand passed smoothly over his satin covered groin.

“Yes, very well secured. Almost perfectly feminine in appearance. Nothing obnoxious to be seen.” she said in a professional manner as her hand finally moved between his legs “Ah yes... here it is, but quite limp and barely discernible. I strongly doubt there would be any movement and even if there was it would be of little consequence.”

“Yes even if it did somehow manage to wriggle free one could not see anything under such a voluminous uniform.” Miss Wareham said “But he knows better than to allow that to happen. Perkins has unannounced inspections.”

Even though she had completed her examination he continued to keep his skirts raised. The first time he had been put through this humiliating exercise he had made the mistake of lowering his petticoats without being given permission by Miss Wareham. Six strokes of the cane by in front of the assembled maidservants by his mistress ensured he would never repeat the error. The instruction took a few more degrading seconds to come.

“You may lower your skirts, Florence.” Miss Wareham finally said.

“Thank you, Madam.” he answered quietly and automatically curtsied.

He allowed them to drop and then instinctively began fluffing out his dress to arrange the petticoats properly, careful to ensure the skirt covered the bulky layers. Finally, he smoothed his apron over the skirt.

“He does seem very meticulous about his appearance.” the Chief Inspector remarked.

“Oh he is.” Lady Mantell confirmed, “Perkins is very strict on housemaids who are slovenly or dishevelled. Since he has arrived he is one of the most organised and fastidious of our girls. Fussy, almost.”

The Chief Inspector could not take her eyes from him.

“When do you think his case will be reviewed Chief Inspector?” Miss Wareham asked. “I thought you might like to stay with me for a while...just to monitor his progress, you understand.”

The Chief Inspector looked at the male maid in front of her and smiled.

“Probably a few months.” she answered.

“Excellent, I was hoping you would say that.” Miss Wareham smiled “Florence should be quite well trained by then.”

The three women looked at him.

“Isn’t that right Florence?”  Miss Wareham asked.

The young man winced and fidgeted at his apron.

“Yes Madam.” he replied and curtsied.

Making Progress - New Illustration

 It's been a while and there are reasons but no need to bore you. Everyone has their own problems.

These illustrations are the best I can do at the moment as I'm struggling to achieve the right frame of mind to create anything. Hopefully readers will enjoy them.

I've made a little more progress on a story and hopefully will be able to finish it before Christmas.

My thanks to Jennie who kindly inserted the text in a way that really improves the overall image.

 R.Dave and Wendy, hopefully I'll be in touch soon and thanks for your patience.

Take care 

Carrie

Foundations of Humiliation

 I'd hoped to have another short story completed by now but for several reasons  still find myself unable to focus for any length of time. However I have about 50% of a story written , I need to get my brain in gear and finish it but right now writing a grocery list is difficult.

So, once more I've had to post an illustration in lieu of a story. I know it's a cliche but every picture really does tell a story. My caption is only my interpretation of what's happening in these images. Readers will have their own version. I've also revamped an old one and given it new text.

It was mentioned to me before that readers may find these captions difficult or at the very least not easy to read. Fortunately, I received an offer of help on that front. So, my thanks and appreciation to Jennifer for taking the time and effort to make these more readable and hopefully more enjoyable for readers.

Take care 

Carrie

The Male Bride and His Matrons of (Dis) Honour

 I'd thought about doing another bridal themed story but perhaps it's too soon after TBRH. There's probably a half decent story in the scene below but I doubt I have the focus or commitment to finish it.

So I took the lazy option.

I had an uncompleted illustration from a few years ago which I eventually finished and captioned.

I greatly appreciate the kind and supportive comments readers posted for TBRH, it's good to know some readers like the material I post.

Hopefully you will like this also.

Take care 

Carrie 

The Bridal Replacement Hypothesis - New story with illustration

 

   

The Bridal Replacement Hypothesis  

by

CarrieP

 

 

“This is a most unfortunate turn of events.” Caroline’s mother sighed wearily, unable to disguise her annoyance.

William, always anxious when his future mother-in-law became vexed, was somewhat relieved that at least this time he would not be the subject of her ire. Nevertheless, he did feel a slight nervousness in the pit of his stomach and as there were no pockets in his fitted jacket he felt his trembling fingers reach for the pure silk shantung of his pressed pleat trousers. He hated this outfit but at least it could, albeit at a stretch, be considered an almost manly shade of deep coral, unlike the pale lavender palazzo pants he had to wear yesterday.

“Yes most unfortunate, Mother.”Caroline repeated in a grave voice “You were quite specific about my dress size; these gowns are far too small for me. I could not possibly try them on. How very… disappointing.”

 William regarded his fiancée with a look of incredulidity and was about to say something but a stern look, perceptible to no one but him dissuaded him from uttering a word. He was acutely aware of Caroline’s abhorrence of all things inordinately feminine, frills and flounces were looked upon with scorn, silks and satins rarely tolerated and when they were, would take the form of a mannish shirt or a plain top. Her reluctance to conform to her mother’s view of femininity was a constant source of friction between them and William, much to his discomfort, was usually caught in the middle. However, once the young man was safely ensconced in their palatial home Caroline’s mother seemed to be drawn to her future son-in law, fussing and fawning over him as if he was a favourite pet.  With this new distraction in her life she seemed less inclined to badger her daughter about her decidedly unfeminine sartorial choices. Naturally this suited Caroline perfectly as she had more important things to think about than fulfilling her mother’s ideal version of the ideal and dutiful daughter. For his part William considered her mother’s attentiveness as merely a passing enthusiasm as the newest addition to the household and believed that once she had gotten used to a masculine presence in the house her attention would again revert to Caroline.

Unfortunately for William, it did not work out the way he expected, she seemed to become more attached to him and as the weeks passed he was pulled inexorably into her orbit. Despite the cavernous size of the house he was unable to escape her constant attentions and had almost by default become her companion.

Of course he had complained to Caroline, on the infrequent occasions when she was present in the house, but she had only to smile at him and he would have done anything she wished. After all she had chosen him when she could have had her pick of any man. Remarkable as this was, what amazed him even more was that she had never baulked at his dreadful, embarrassing secret. In fact, she said it drew them even closer. He often wished he could be more forceful and insist she inform her mother that he should, at the very least, be allowed choose his own clothes. Well… at least twice a week…if, of course, that would be agreeable with her mother. But she always managed to either distract him with her charming smile or chide him in a severe tone depending on how thin her patience with him was. Either way, he never found the courage to deny her mother’s requests, no matter how demeaning.

Now in this alien environment of an exclusive bridal boutique, Caroline’s austere look was quickly followed by her disarming smile and once more he was both relieved and confused in equal measure but it had the desired effect and his heart fluttered like a love struck Romeo gazing at his Juliet. Unfortunately, the moment did not last very long.

“Do stop fidgeting William.” Caroline’s mother said brusquely, snapping him back to reality.

“Oh Martha, leave the poor boy alone.” Mrs Fitzmaurice, her friend, intervened and slid a reassuring arm around his shoulder. “It’s understandable that a young man would be slightly uneasy in these surroundings.”

“Yes, Martha .” agreed Mrs Cavandish, another companion, as she  moved  to his side in a show of support and caressing his cheek in a most affectionate manner.“You are far too hard on William.”

“Don’t you worry, William.” Mrs Claybourne, yet another friend joined the conversation in his defence, taking his hand and stroking it she added with a light laugh “We are here to protect you.”

William grateful for their support and protection smiled appreciatively and lowered his eyes respectfully, a gesture he had only recently come to learn was greatly cherished by these and the  other society matrons in his future mother-in-law’s circle.  For all his faults- and he had many- he was a quick learner  and had  adopted this pose on a regular basis and although he knew it made him seem more docile it was a price he was willing to pay to avoid Caroline’s mother displeasure. He was aware that if she fell into a foul humour he would bear the brunt of her exasperation for days. With no guarantee that his fiancé would be around to protect him he would have to rely on these ladies to provide a bulwark against her domineering mother.  Of course it was degrading for a man to seek sanctuary in the company of these middle-aged ladies but in the weeks that he had entered their home his timidity had become so ingrained he felt he had no other option.

“I can see there is no need for me to come to your aid, darling.” Caroline laughed lightly as her mother stubbornly continued to frown.

However, his practiced display of demureness and deference could soften even the most austere and demanding of female hearts and Caroline’s mother was no exception.

 “Well, perhaps I may have been a little tetchy.” she conceded begrudgingly but her face began to soften, “But this is a most annoying development. I was assured by Madame Margot that she would have Caroline’s exact size. We cannot decide on her bridal gown by just looking at it on a rack or hanger.”

“I am so sorry Lady Congrove.” A deeply apologetic voice called from across the room as Madame Margot entered closely followed by an assistant.

“This is most embarrassing.” Madame Margot proffered her apologies and added a curtsy for good measure.

By now William had retreated to a place of safety and tried to blend in with the rails of bridal gowns but the hue of his deep coral pantsuit made that difficult, thankfully all eyes were on the two women. He observed Madame Margot take the impact of Caroline’s mother anger and although empathising with the unfortunate dressmaker he was greatly relieved that for once it was not him that was the subject of her wrath. Madame Margot was suggesting several other styles that would be similar but Caroline‘s mother annoyance was inextinguishable and she continued to upbraid the misfortunate woman.

“Have one of your assistants model them for us.” Caroline’s mother finally demanded.

“I had thought of that your ladyship.” Madame Margot replied sheepishly and took a step back before continuing “But unfortunately none of my girls are the same dress size.”

A grave silence fell on the room as Caroline’s mother’s face took on a dark expression.

“Perhaps…” the voice of Madame Margot’s assistant nervously broke the stillness, drawing the attention of both women “Perhaps that young lady over there would oblige us. She appears to be just the right size.”

Every pair of eyes in the room turned on the figure in the deep coral pantsuit and after a few moments the air was filled with the sound of female giggling. Even Caroline’s mother was not immune and joined in as William’s face turned crimson.

“Preposterous!” she exclaimed “That’s not a girl that is my darling William, my future son-in-law. Although now that you say it, he does have the delicate features associated with our sex.”

“You silly girl.” Madame Margot scolded her assistant “I am so sorry for this girl’s idiocy, Lady Congreve. ”

The laughter petered out and a strange hush fell on the room as every woman present mentally measured William.

“No… wait…perhaps the girl is right.” Mrs Cavandish said as all the women, now with curious expressions on their faces, slowly advanced on the young man.

“He does have a certain …”Mrs Claybourne mused out loud.

“Girlish charm.” Mrs Fitzmaurice added helpfully.

“Exactly.” her friend replied as she repeated, “Girlish charm.”

William winced but before he could protest the assistant had her tape measure around his waist and Madame Margot was running her eyes over his body mentally calculating the young man’s contours.

“Yes, yes I think it would work.” she said. “Not perfect of course, your ladyship. But good enough to model all the gowns.”

“Gowns!” William repeated “You…cannot…”

The women now excited by this strange idea babbled frantically to each other, drowning out his protests.

“The bosom, Madame.” Her assistant said a little tentatively “We could use some foam or similar material.”

It took William a few moments to realise the women considered this ridiculous idea to be a serious proposition and he decided to move towards the door, however in those few seconds of hesitation he had become surrounded by every female in the room and now had no means of escape. His eyes searched for Caroline but saw she was in conversation with her mother and Madame Margot.

“What a splendid idea.” Mrs Fitzmaurice chirped and beaming at him added, “You would be doing us all a great service and ensure we have not wasted our time coming here today.”

“Yes wonderful.” Mrs Claybourne agreed “It would be a shame to leave without seeing these beautiful gowns modelled.”

“Please…ladies…I must…I can’t…please…” an incoherent stream left his mouth as panic rose up from within.

He barely noticed his feet touch the floor as the two women, followed by the rest of the entourage, steered him across the room towards a pair of large double doors with the nameplate Dressing Room 1. He continued to object but his pleadings were lost in their chatter.

As the door closed behind him he gasped audibly as his eyes darted about the large room, bridal gowns and accessories appeared to occupy every available space, some on rails, some laid carefully over chairs, others on mannequins, shoes stacked neatly on metal frames. William felt his knees tremble at the sight and looked towards the door for a chance to escape but he saw Madame Margot turn a key in the lock. He now knew he was well and truly trapped with no means of liberation. His head fogged and his body becoming strangely detached from his brain by this dreadful turn of events, he was only vaguely aware of instructions being issued and hands moving deftly and quickly over his body. It took him several seconds to realise his top had been removed.

“What is this for?” Mrs Cavandish asked pointing to the wide bandaging around William’s chest.

“N…no…please Caroline…not here…”William blurted pleading with his fiancée who was now by his side and reassuringly holding his hand.

Caroline stepped closer and kissed him on the cheek.

“It’s quite all right darling.” she reassured him quietly unfolding the tightly bound fabric.”You are among friends no one will judge you here.”

“William has a regrettable condition for a male ladies.” her mother explained to the women looking on with wide-eyed curiosity as Caroline completed her task and a modest yet  fully formed female bosom revealed itself on William’s chest.

The spectacle was greeted by gasps followed quickly by admiring exclamations.

“May we…would he mind…” Mrs Fitzmaurice asked, clearly perplexed by the unveiling of William’s perfectly formed feminine bust.

Instinctively, William raised his hands to shield his protruding mounds which instantly drew a strong rebuke from his future mother-in-law.

“William.”she snapped in a manner that he knew and dreaded. “Did I give you permission to cover your bosom? Please do not be rude to the ladies.”

He reluctantly but quickly obeyed and dropped his hands.

“That’s better. This day is stressful enough without your display of girlish modesty.” she chided him but in a gentler voice and gestured to her friends to inspect the protruding glands. “You should be proud of your beautiful breasts now let the ladies examine them.”

There was no need for a second invitation and immediately William felt hands cupping his shameful secret.

“Remarkable.” Mrs Claybourne said as she held both breasts in her hands as William wished the ground would somehow open and he could slip quietly away. The other woman smiled as she added, “Just like a girl’s, so pert and firm.”

It was bad enough that Caroline had told her mother of his mortifying condition, who in turn had informed Jenny, her lady’s maid. The girl, when Caroline or her motherwere unavailable, was now tasked with binding the hideous things in the wide stretch fabric every morning and removing it in the evenings. As he quickly discovered it was also obvious, from their furtive glances at his chest, the housemaids now also appeared to be aware of his embarrassing secret. But he had little time to dwell on that now.

Mrs Fitzmaurice edged her friend aside and a different pair of hands now fondled him. A deep shame was etched on his face and it did not go unnoticed.

“No need to be embarrassed William.“ she said in a sympathetic voice “Two of my maids are at least a size smaller.”

“I’m sure you would like to have them covered, darling.” Caroline asked, coming to his rescue with Madame Margot in tow.

“Yes…yes…”he blurted and continued a little louder than he had intended “I have to get out of here.”

“William! You know you cannot disappoint the ladies.” his fiancée replied sternly as she gestured to the eager female faces, her tone almost indistinguishable from her mother’s and making abundantly clear to everyone in the room  that she would brook no dissent. “But first we need to cover those breasts of yours. That is what you want, isn’t it.”

The words could not leave his mouth, he could only nod his agreement and swallowed hard as his saw Madame Margot pick up a box and open it.

He gasped as he saw her hand the item to Caroline’s mother and felt a queasy sensation begin to form in his stomach. Unable to face the humiliation he closed his eyes and felt unseen hands slip the brassiere up his arms. A silence fell on the room he could hear the laboured breathing of every woman present. He felt a single tear roll down his cheek.

“It’s only fitting that Mother puts you into your first brassiere.” Caroline voice whispered in his ear and he felt the cool elastic stretch under his arms and across his back. There was a noticeable tugging as her fingers nimbly fitted the hooks into the corresponding eyes.

Another tear escaped from his firmly closed eyes and made its way down his cheek as he now felt her hands slip inside the brassiere and settle his breasts in the cups, he felt her warm breath on his neck as she adjusted the shoulder straps.

“No need to be upset, darling.” Caroline’s mother said affectionately as she felt his breasts through the brassiere’s lace and satin cups, “It’s not as if this is the first time others have seen your bosom. You are among friends and family. Now dry your eyes, like a good girl.”

“As you can see ladies,” Madame Margot addressed the women who were clearly fascinated by the young man before them, she placed her hand under his left breast “This particular brassiere has the effect of pushing up and enhancing the bosom.”

He slowly opened his eyes and despite the deep shame and distress engulfing him the smiling, empathic and encouraging faces of the ladies present offered him a small degree of calm. However this was short lived as he now saw Madame Margot and her assistant busying themselves arranging various voluminous gowns on the chairs and sofas throughout the large room. His anxiety quickly resurfaced.

Nooooo… a silent scream roared inside his head, oh no…please…no…

He had been so overwhelmed by the events of the last few minutes that he had not noticed his pants were now around his ankles and his legs were being lifted one at a time as the last vestige of his male, albeit nominal, male clothing was removed. It was only the ladies excited voices that snapped him back into the moment.

“Oh Martha!” Mrs Claybourne gasped as she walked behind to inspect him “You have put him into a girdle.”

He had become so used to wearing these hideous, repulsive feminine foundations that he had almost forgotten he was wearing the dreadful  garment.

He felt a hand on the heavy satin at his rear and he shivered as Mrs Fitzmaurice ran her hand down the corresponding satin panel at his front, letting it linger between his legs for a moment that felt like an hour.

“And stockings!” Mrs Cavandish exclaimed as she fingered the garters holding up the sheer hosiery.

To his consternation, the other ladies made a similar inspection and from the corner of his eye he could see the smirks on Madame Margot and her assistant.

He felt tears of abject humiliation welling up once more.

“As we girls know only too well,” Caroline’s mother addressed her friends in a matter-of-fact tone, as she tugged at the girdle’s wide heavy elastic waistband pulling it up an inch  “males have very little control over their base desires  and have a ghastly tendency to become excited when in the presence of our sex. Docile as William is, he is still a male and a prisoner of these disgusting cravings. Like all of you, my household is staffed exclusively by female servants and it would be most inappropriate if he surrendered to his male lust and such an objectionable display was witnessed by my housemaids. As you can see the girdle is quite effective in ensuring the male organ is kept under complete control.”

“Quite right Martha.” Mrs Claybourne agreed “And as we can see he is nice and smooth , just like a girl. No dreadful male bulge.”

“A good firm girdle keeps our bodies under control.” Mrs Fitzmaurice said approvingly “Why should it be any different for a male, although we never considered such a delicate soul as William to be associated with that appalling and beastly sex.”

“Yes, he is such a sweet, adorable creature.” Mrs Cavandish concurred, adding her reassurance ”And no need to feel embarrassed William I am wearing the very same style. A little constricting perhaps but my figure is all the better for it.”

“He is such a sweetheart. It is why I’m marrying him.” Caroline said as she hugged him closely, her hand falling to his satin clad buttocks, drawing him closer. “Isn’t that right, darling.”

By now words were beyond William and he could only nod and watch in horror as Madame Margot and her assistant approached with a bulky garment carried between them.

“As the style you requested is ballgown, Lady Congreve,” Madame Margot said “I would suggest a seven tier petticoat.”

“Seven tiers?” she repeated as she examined it and obviously impressed gave her approval “Yes it does look delightful.”

“Yes, your ladyship.” Madame Margot said as her assistant held up the voluminous underskirts. “Seven beautiful layers of very stiff and gathered petticoat netting, the outer layer has lace around the bottom of the hem. It has an inbuilt silk slip for the bride’s comfort so she will not itch. The netting is so stiff a crinoline is not required as its stands alone. Wearing this under such a beautiful gown will make the bride feel truly feminine.”

The underskirt was laid on the floor in front of William who stared at it in terror.

Caroline looked at her mother and could not hide her expression of relief that she had been spared the ordeal of donning such an exceedingly feminine garment. Of course her mother was far too busy concentrating on her future son-in-law to notice.

William, unable to comprehend what was happening, was guided into the opening and in a matter of seconds he was encased in the wide petticoat as Madame Margot ensured it fitted correctly around his hips.

“Perfect Madame.” her assistant cooed fluffing out the net underskirts as William looked on with a pained expression, still unable to grasp how he had found himself in this humiliating position.

“Yes, splendid now help me with the first gown.” Madame Margot instructed the young woman.

The magnitude of what was happening seemed to paralyse him and just as he was powerless when he was placed in the enormous and heavy petticoats, he was now incapable of preventing himself being encased in this vast swathe of satin. Madame Margot and her assistant placed the gown over his head and as the assistant began buttoning the gown’s bodice from the back Madame Margot was arranging the skirt over his petticoats. Mrs Fitzmaurice and Mrs Claybourne delighted with this unfolding spectacle could not resist helping with the operation. William remained motionless as Mrs Cavandish placed his hands into matching satin opera length gloves and silently watched her roll them up  his arms. As this was happening the two ladies then arranged the gown’s long train ensuring it was perfectly aligned.

Satisfied they had completed their task they joined Caroline and her mother to admire their handiwork.

“Oh…my dear William” Mrs Fitzmaurice gushed “You certainly do look the part.”

“He certainly does. ” Mrs Claybourne exclaimed, her eyes widening at the sight in front of her “Such a beautiful gown. Please tell us, how does it feel?”

“Do you feel as pretty as you look?” Mrs Cavandish asked.

His eyes remained closed but this only heightened his other senses and he was now even more aware of the tightness of his girdle and the stockings tugging on its six garters, the straps of the brassiere bit into his shoulders and the flesh around his chest. Even through his satin gloved fingers he could feel the softness of the gown. As these sensations danced inside his brain some other voice was suggesting that this may be a nightmare and he would soon awake.

His eyes opened and flickered momentarily as they began to focus and his worst fears were realised.

The reflection in the mirrored wall opposite confirmed the sensations he was experiencing were indeed reality.

“Let us see how the gown moves as you walk.” Madame Margot said gesturing him to walk but he stood rooted to the floor still transfixed on the image staring back at him.

“William!” Caroline’s mother’s sharp tone immediately snapped him back into the present and she took his gloved hand “Walk.”

The bulk of the dress seemed to weigh him down and his every step filled the air with a distinct, uniquely feminine swishing sound as the stiff netting of his petticoats swayed and moved against the heavy satin of the gown’s skirt. He could feel his breasts, now free of their binding, move within the confines of his new brassiere. It was a ghastly experience but from the look on his future mother-in-law’s beaming face, it was not one she shared. There was warmth in her smile he had never seen before and she gazed on him with unbridled affection. The others looked on as he was led around the room by his joyful  and smiling escort to the sound of rustling satin.

“Such a pity it wasn’t in your size Caroline.” Mrs Cavandish consoled the bride to be.

“Yes…yes…a pity…yes…”Caroline answered somewhat distractedly unable to take her eyes from the feminine figure of her fiancée in his bridal gown.

“The heaviest of duchess satin. Such a beautiful, feminine material. ” Madame Margot announced proudly as the couple continued to parade. “Please do not take this the wrong way Lady Congreve, but he does not look out of place in the gown. It is as if it was made for him and the brassiere gives him a wonderful cleavage.”

William visibly winced at the comment his humiliation burning inside.

“Oh don’t be upset darling. It was meant as a compliment, you do look every inch the bride.” Caroline’s mother whispered in his ear “I’m not sure the gown would have looked as good on my daughter. Now let’s go around one more time before we try another gown. And perhaps we will try a suitable veil Madame Margot.”

William’s heart sank as he felt her hand squeeze his affectionately. As they passed the other ladies he looked pleadingly at Caroline but she merely smiled and blew him a kiss and turned back to the company.

They all looked on as Caroline’s mother and Madame Margot fussed over William, fluffing out his skirts and rearranging his long satin train.

“I haven’t seen your mother so happy in a long time.” Mrs Cavandish said.

“Yes, quite remarkable.” Mrs Claybourne agreed. “He really does look the part.

“I think your mother has decided on your gown, Caroline.” Mrs Fitzmaurice added.

“Oh I think she has not only decided on the gown.” Caroline said “But who is going to wear it.”

The ladies nodded their agreement and smiled.