Sunday, December 11, 2011

Getting Close to Christmas - Huh?

Well I hope that all of you sissies and transvestites have been shopping for lovely lingerie?
(For your wives or girlfriends of course!)

I haven't said a "Hi" to my new followers - and I see that I'm finally getting some from Smashwords?  If that's the case?  Welcome!  (And you might want to look back a ways - I indicated discounts on my Smashword books there).

It's just dawning on me that I'm getting a helluva lot more people viewing this blog than I thought - almost 8,000 viewers in a few weeeks!  Maybe one of those days I'll get some people giving me new insights?  Keep in mind - write me at and say you want to input to this blog.  Honest?  I'm easy.

But here's Part four of the current serial.


Part 4
She taught me a series of her facial expressions that signaled when she wanted me to freshen up my lipstick, my rouge, or everything.  Every so often, in front of a maid, or her mother, she'd give me the 'look', and I'd have to pull whatever cosmetic she signaled - and 'freshen up' my makeup, without giving the impression that it was her that was making me do it. I think that Mrs. Wilson caught on, but she still got a big kick from seeing demonstrations of her daughter's power over me as I'd use my very own cosmetics from my bag or compact to freshen my makeup.

Aunt Jenny was never there.  Wasn't invited probably – which was wonderful by me.  I had terrible dreams where she'd find out and laugh.

Naturally, my mother picked one of these days to come and pay aunt Jenny an uninvited flying visit.  As was becoming commonplace, I was at the Wilson's  There, we had just finished with afternoon tea, and I was playing croquet with Angela and her mother.  I was in full makeup, a light blue, sequined dress with matching high heels and a little straw cloche hat with a medium veil.  Naturally, I didn't know of mom's visit nor see the arrival of her and Jenny, and was squealing girlishly at something Angela had said or done.

Mother and aunt Jennie had naturally gone to the front door.  They were ushered outside to our presence by Tillie, one of the more aggressive maids.  She really grinned as she announced who they were, and 'who' they were looking for. "I didn't think you'd like to keep them waiting, but had them wait in the Drawing Room." she apologized to Mrs. Wilson.
"Why would you have them wait there?"  Mrs.  Wilson.  "Treating guests like that?"
"Well ma'am.  With the boy dressed the way he is?  I thought  . ."
"Oh!  You mean the dress he's wearing? I tend to forget that he isn't just another little girl."  She turned to me. "You don't mind – do you dear?"
"No ma'am."  I swallowed and asked hopefully. "Could I maybe go back and change into my own clothes?"
"Oh NO!" Said Mrs.  Wilson.  "That's just being silly!  They'll understand perfectly."  She spoke to Tillie.  "Please ask the ladies come and join us!"

In re-living these experiences I had gradually forgotten who I was telling the story to.  Chris brought me back to earth with a thump.
"Let's see"  she said.  "You're in full drag and makeup, playing croquet - as girlishly as you know how - and your mother and aunt find you that way?  How did they react?"
"Oh."  I said, remembering the expressions on their faces.  "Aunt Jennie wasn't 'too' surprised I think, but pretended she was.  Mother was absolutely amazed - she didn't even recognize me at first. Angela's mother just acted as if nothing unusual was going on ... So I guess my mother and aunt had no choice.  They ended up pretending that everything was perfectly normal to them as well.  Even mother, when she came to hug me hello, kissed me on the cheek like she would've done with a girl.  I could see Angela's face over my mother's shoulder – and it showed a most delighted and scornful expression.

Then Mrs. Wilson suggested that we all stay for dinner - (Angela whispered to me that this would give me a chance to change out of my 'play' clothes), and as neither my mother or aunt could think up a good reason for refusing, (Frankly, I don't think they wanted to do that) they agreed. Mrs. Wilson sent Tillie off for drinks for the adults.  And I went off with Angela to change.

By this time, I was fully aware of Angela's tricks.  At the same time, however, I was totally unprepared for what she pulled then. I paused in my narrative, my face burning.

"Didn't let you back into your own clothes, did she?"  Chris interposed, grinning.
I nodded pensively, near tears even then.  "That's right.  She said I couldn't possibly wear the clothes I had come in - they were dirty - and I surely couldn't  wear dirty clothes if I was going to eat a proper dinner with our mothers, could I?"

"So what'd you wear?"  Chris asked in an amused tone.
" A kind of red dress"  I mumbled.
"Tell me - a pretty red dress?"  She pressed.
"Yeah.  A kind of party dress that she'd grown out of. They made a big point out of the fact that though I 'normally' wore the mother's dresses to play in, this was one of the few times when I could wear Angela's dresses. "  I admitted this nearly in tears at the memory.
"What did Angela wear?"
"Pants and a sweater, I think.  I don't remember, truly"  I lied.

But I really did remember.  Angela in nice, but plain, slacks and blouse. The adults in fairly plain daywear - and me in a frilled, organza, party dress.  Puffy sleeves and bodice, frilly slip peeking from below the hem of the dress, a ribbon in my hair, and a big puffy bow tying the sash of my dress at the back.  Naturally I had lipstick, blusher and mascara on.  A pretty girl was what I was dressed as.  What I acted like.

And my mother's visit seemed to last forever.  They kept her there  "It's a shame you can't spend more time with us here, but there isn't much sense in going all the way back to Jennie's, and then past here to catch your train is there?   And this'll give us a chance to get to know you."  Mrs.. Wilson told her.  "I'll have Mary take you to the station in the car."
My mother, awed by this rich woman, just nodded in agreement.

Back in the present moment, I turned to Chris at that point and spoke seriously.  "That afternoon changed my whole life.  The whole situation seemed to make my mother pretend that there was absolutely nothing wrong with her son dressed in feminine clothes - and what with me doing a very passable job of acting like the little girl friend of the hostesses daughter, it didn't seem to take her very long to fall in with what they wanted."  I paused again, remembering.

"Before dinner, Angela suggested that she and I show my mother around the garden.  Mother was delighted.  You see, she really was a bit of a snob, and being treated like an equal by rich folks - I guess she thought she was in heaven.  So the three of us meandered off, me in my little red dress, carrying my handbag.   Then out in the middle of the garden, Angela gave me the sign I'd been dreading - but I knew better than show any argument.  HAD to do what she wanted.  Knew beyond a doubt that Angela wanted any excuse to put me over her knees and have my mother see my panties as I was spanked – though it would all be in fun of course."

In front of my mother, I gave a little girlish squeal, opened my handbag, pulled my compact out, and checked my makeup in the mirror.  With the dainty little brush, I applied some blush to my cheeks, then patted some sheer face powder over it.  Then, lightly and expertly, I touched up my lipstick as my mother looked on, her mouth somewhat agape at her sissified son and his actions.
Angela smiled tolerantly at my mother  "He really does like to keep his appearance up - so fussy about his makeup."  Then she turned back to me and gave me another sign that she'd been teaching.
"Is that a run you have in your stocking dear?"  She said.

It didn't mean anything of the sort, but I did as she wanted.  I let out another little feminine squeal, and lifted the hem of my dress at the back to show the expanse of frilled petticoat there.  Then I looked   "There's nothing there Angela, you're just teasing me again."  I said in a very feminine, pouting, way, letting my dress fall back again. Knowing full well that my dress had been lifted far enough to show my seamed nylons – and the frilly panties.

Mother now accepted my behavior without pause and seemed perfectly serious when she said to Angela. "Oh.  I'm so glad he's found a playmate like you here.  I was so afraid he'd have nothing to do."  Then she horrified me by linking one of her arms in mine, and continuing the walk like a mother and daughter.

Later, dinner passed without any major embarrassment - I was just a teenage girl friend of Angela's, amongst a group of grown women.  Jennie did make some comments about my housekeeping skills - for which my mother blushingly took the credit, while Mrs. Wilson complained about Angela's capabilities in the same area. "She's just SO rough and masculine! I keep telling her that she should use Alexis as an example, but she's just hopeless!  Like her father, I guess!"

When it finally came time for mother to leave,  Aunt Jennie stayed at the Wilson's.  "You can see your mother to the station - you'll at least have a half hour or so to visit with each other, without me being there.  I'll wait here so that when you get back, we can walk back to the house together." She told me.

And so I was given the additional humiliation of accompanying my mother to a public rail station, still in my party dress.  She asked me, almost as soon as we were in the car  "Why, in heaven's name are you in a red dress?  I don't want to hurt your feelings, but that is WRONG you know!  You should honestly know better!"
"Mummy ... she made me!  It's not my fault!"  I started.
"How?  Did she beat you up?  I don't see any marks!"
"Well"  I stammered.  "Not exactly... but she said.."
"She said?  She said?  What exactly did she say?  - Go and put on that red dress?"
"Just about, mummy"
Then she amazed me by pointing out that she and I were not talking about the same thing at all. I had completely misunderstood her.  She spoke a little petulantly.
 "Well, I think blue is much nicer on you.  You were much prettier this afternoon.  Red is not really your color, even though it does go with your hair quite nicely - and I will admit that your lipstick ties in with it quite well..."

I started to cry softly in frustration.  She took my hand.
"I don't mean to be cruel dear - but really, you'll have to learn what kinds of dresses to wear, and what not to wear.."
"You're treating me like a girl!" I remonstrated.
"But I thought that's what you'd want"  she answered, puzzled. "You look like you're enjoying acting and looking like one - and you're very good at it too.  Am I supposed to say that you're not?"
I shook my head helplessly.  She kissed me gently, then spoke again.
"Look dear.  You've never been very strong and, to tell the truth, not much of a boy.  Now, you seem to be a lot happier and, to tell the truth, you  make quite a pretty girl.  I can tell that Angela is a little bossy for you – but I think you probably need a strong girl – to show you the ropes as it were.  Make sure that you behave properly."
She stroked the dress material.  "This is a nice dress.  I could never be able to buy you one like this you know."
"Take me home with you mummy"  I pleaded  "I don't want This!  I don't want to be a girl."
She shook her head.  "I can't dear.  Not right now.  You'll just have to make the best of it.  But here we are at the station, and I think that's my train coming in."

As it so happened, it wasn't but, by the time she'd found that out, her train was actually pulling in.  A quick kiss (again on the cheek) and a hug, and she was gone.  I climbed back into the car with Mary, now almost convinced that there was NO way out of my predicament.

Aunt Jennie was waiting for me when we got back.  To my horror, she said "Well it's too late to change out of your dress now - and it doesn't make sense to dirty other clothes into the bargain.  You can just wear it home. Tomorrow, you can wash and iron it, then bring it back.  Are you going to thank Angela for the loan of it?  Go ahead now!"
Angela grinned  "Oh.  I've grown out of it.  Why doesn't she just keep it - maybe get some use out of it? It looks so pretty on him!"

Jennie lifted the hem, to show the lace trim on the petticoat.  "But this is such pretty underwear miss Angela.  What about this?
Angela nodded.  "Same thing.  May as well keep that as well."
Jennie turned to me.  "Isn't that nice?  Say thank you to Angela.  Say it nicely now - like a good girl."

 And, with her hand pressing heavily on my shoulder as a cue, I knew exactly what she meant me to do.  Putting one foot behind the other, as I'd seen the maids do, I pulled out the skirt of my dress at both sides, and curtseyed.  "Thank you for the clothes Angela."
"The pretty clothes.."  Jennie's voice grated in my ear.
"..The pretty clothes, miss Angela."   I finished.

It was the first time I'd ever curtseyed to her, but I saw by the delighted expression on her face that it wasn't going to be the last, especially when I sensed the growing alliance/friendship between her and aunt Jennie.  She drove another nail into my coffin by speaking to my aunt.
"Well aunt ..okay if I call you aunt? .. Jennie.  Now that I think of it, I've got a ton of clothes I've grown out of.  I know you want to get home so I won't keep you - but I'll have one of the maids look through my closets, and make up a parcel for him to bring home tomorrow.  You were saying at dinner how he likes to do housework - these would be a lot more suitable for someone working about the house I think. How does that sound?"

"Oh miss Angela.  That's very nice."  Aunt Jennie laughed  "but I can't be having him do house chores in party dresses..."
"Oh.  I wasn't talking about them."  Angela smiled.  I meant skirts, blouses, that kind of thing. Though there would be some 'nicer' dresses he.. she.. could wear at night?"
"Oh!  I'm sure that that would be lovely!”  Aunt Jenny agreed.  “Now, when he's .. she's ..doing work in the house, she'll be properly dressed.  More in line with how someone should look doing housework."

Chris broke into my memories.  "That Jennie sounds like she didn't like you much."
I shook my head.  "Aunt Jennie loved me.  I found that out in the next week or so.  She loved me ... but loved me best when I dressed and acted like a girl. If I wore a dress or skirt and blouse, she couldn't have been kinder. Taught me how to sew, some cooking.. and would even sit and talk to me at nights.  Even took me to the movies a couple of times.
"In girl's clothes?"
"Chris"  I said.  "Until a while after I left there, I never wore boy's clothes again."

She held up her hand.  "Whoa!  I was starting to get the feeling that .. If you didn't dressing and acting like a girl, well you didn't exactly hate it either?"
Ruefully, I nodded in agreement.  "You're right, to a certain extent.  Look at it this way.  With Angela and aunt Jennie, everything was fine .. But only as long as I was a girl – especially with my aunt. .  If I wore pretty clothes, I was treated like a friend, or a companion.  But the minute I showed any sign of masculinity.. Well, things could get nasty."
"So you took the path of least resistance?"
"Yes.  I guess so."
"So, why'd you leave, then?"
"Angela just had to press it."  I said bitterly.
"You mean, she thought up some other way to humiliate you?"  Chris laughed.  "Must have been a real doozie!"

I thought back to the afternoon before her birthday party.   “I wasn't needed by her that day, so was helping aunt Jenny with some dressmaking at her farm, when I saw the Rolls drive up, and Mary get out with what looked like a couple of dresses on hangers.  I couldn't make out what they were at the time, because they were wrapped in plastic garment bags.  Aunt  Jennie went to the door.”

"For miss Alexis to wear for tomorrows party.  She's to be there about seven a.m.  - and has to go and see Tillie as soon as she gets there"  I heard Mary say.
Then I heard aunt Jennie thank Mary for the dress, and invite her in for a cup of tea.  This was turned down with some laughing remark.  Next, I heard the door close and the car drive away.  Jennie came in with the garments folded over her arm.  "What's this?,"  She said coyly, pulling up one of the plastic wrappers to have a look.   "Ooh!  It looks lovely!  A brown taffeta I think.  But this looks new.  Doesn't look like one of her old things at all."
I thought of Angela's demands to have me measured the previous week.  Now I could see why.

"I think it is new"  I said.  "But what's in the other one then?"
She had already started pulling the wrapper off of the second one.
Speechless, we both gazed at the full length petticoat with lashings of layered lace making for a very bulky skirt.
"My goodness!"  Jenny muttered  "This'll be some outfit, I'm thinking."

And she was right.  By the time we got the wrappers off and disclosed the total contents, it was obvious why Angela wanted me to report to Tillie the following morning.  She had sent me a brand new, brown taffeta dress with a billowing skirt - obviously to take a heavily frilled petticoat - heavy lace trim at the neckline, hem, and sleeves.  To go with the dress was a white apron and matching mob cap.  She had sent me a maid's uniform!  And, it wasn't just a uniform.  It was the most feminine outfit I'd ever seen designed for a maid.  But I knew that all of the maids had new dresses especially made for the party – it was now obvious that I was to join them.

Jennie was thrilled by the outfit or pretended to be, and talked me into trying it on. Naturally, it fitted perfectly and, once she fastened me into it securely, I realized that it was made in such a way as to ensure that I'd have to have someone help me in and out of it.  But even Jennie took pause when she got the apron and cap on me.  She shook her head slowly.
"She's a terror, that miss Angela.  I have an awful feeling that once she sees you in this, you're not going to be her playmate much longer – I think she wants you for an employee.  I have the feeling that she's starting to see you as her personal maid."   She cocked her head,  How would you feel about that?   "She wouldn't be a terrible mistress I'm thinking as long as you behaved properly."  Here she giggled a little.  "And it looks like she'd keep you nicely dressed anyway!"
"Aw, come on Aunt Jenny!" I said in woeful tones.

But, all of a sudden, despite my pretences, I knew I loved wearing the dress - and everything that went with it.  Though I was positive, knew  beyond a doubt, that if I were to go to Angela's party the next day, I would be put to work as a maid.  I also knew that it would be a long time before I ever got the chance to be anything else. It was not the career I would have picked for myself, although I was well aware that my schooling marks were bad enough that a maid's position was probably as good as I could get at that time.
"Aunt Jennie?" I said.  "This isn't right!"
She gave me a big hug. "You know?  I think you might be right, though you really shouldn't complain.  You're girlish dear and that's a fact!  I'm sorry, but that's the way it is. With Miss Angela though?  I sense there's more to having you dress  as a girl than meets the eye."
"What do you mean, aunt Jennie?"
She looked embarrassed and stared down at the floor. "Well?  Do you know how men and women get together – sexually I mean?"
"I think so aunt."  I was puzzled.
"Well?  There's some girls who would rather be men.  Like to lord it over other women."
"I don't know what you mean.  Angela's kinda bossy and mean – and maybe she wants to be a boy.  But I never seen her acting like a boy in front of the maids?"
Aunt Jenny breathed through her nose. "I think she wants YOU for her girl.  Don't know it for sure, but I think that's what is at the back of her mind.  Make you HER girl!"
I giggled. "You can't be right aunt! Help me out of this dress, will you?" I asked.
She looked relieved by the change of subject.  "Why don't you just keep it on for a while?  Maybe you'll learn to like it more?"
What could I do or say?   I spent the rest of the day in the uniform of Angela's maid before Aunt Jenny helped me out of it before bed time.

End of Part 4


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