Sunday, June 22, 2014

A Suitable Position Chapter 2

Below is second part of A Suitable Position, again thanks to those who liked and commented on it I appreciate you taking the time and effort to do so but before that just a few lines on Dave’s insightful comments on chapter 1

Dave I’m convinced you’ve hacked into my brain, I had intended to post the second part and then just leave it at that but following your comments I’ll have to reconsider. You’ve raised some really interesting points about the blog in general and also what I said in my last comment.
I understand your views about other blogs, it’s a good argument and your points are very well made, I just hadn’t considered it in that light. Perhaps you are right but in the absence of any indication it’s hard to know definitively but as I’ve said I do take your point. It’s not so much the frustration as the concern – fear perhaps – I really don’t know if I’m making a complete idiot of myself with this story but you LG and the other commenters have now more than allayed  those concerns so thanks for that. Your comments always help to keep me on my toes.  
What you mentioned about knowing where this eventually goes I suspect is an enduring one with this genre but I think it’s the journey rather than the destination is what makes it enjoyable.
The point you made about the quality of Bea’s writing was also foremost in my mind. He’s set a very high standard so for me it’s like a singer making his debut at the Met Opera after Pavarotti has just left the stage. He’s a hard act to follow and those are very large stilettos to fill. So thank you very much for the vote of confidence.
I’m really glad you started drawing again that’s a marvellous talent you have and if I had something, no matter how small, to do with it then I couldn’t be happier, you’ve made my day.
With regards to your own writing I believe Samuel Beckett has the best advice,
“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.”
 I need to heed that also.
Robert’s back story is so far down the road it’s probably over the border in another State, in fact it could form either a prequel or a sequel.
I’ve had another look and hopefully the typos and any grammatical errors are sorted if not apologies in advance. Ok, here goes, hope this is up to scratch.

Carrie








A Suitable Position ©

Carrie P

Chapter 2

Time for Bed

His heart pounded in his chest as he turned around to face his employer his face flushed with embarrassment.
“I… ah …em I meant….”he spluttered and realising how foolish he sounded served only to heighten his discomfort.
“Oh do go on” Frau Kirchen said in a calm voice “I’d really like to hear your views.”
“I just thought it a bit early to have to go to bed” he said sheepishly still smarting from being caught criticising his employer behind her back.
“Would you prefer to have to work until mid-night like some Mistresses I know have their maids do -and then have them rise again at 6am? Is that really what you really want -because I can arrange it? Greta tells me how overworked she is all the time so I’m sure you could be kept busy from sunrise to sunset. Maybe you’re one of these people who only need a few hours’ sleep.”
He desperately wanted to correct her and shout he wasn’t a maid but reckoned he was in enough trouble as it stood and thought better of mentioning it. While it was patently ridiculous to be sent to bed at such an hour arguing against it could very well result in him working longer hours.
What was the point he thought, best let it go.
He was lost in these thoughts and forgot she was still waiting for an answer.
“Well?” she snapped annoyed at his delayed response.
“I apologise   ... I just wasn’t thinking straight, of course you are correct, a good night’s rest is very important” he lied.
“I think you’d better say that again and this time please remember to whom you are speaking” she snapped, the irritation clearly audible in her voice.
He looked at her with a blank expression not understanding what she meant but he realised from her tone and impatient demeanour she required a response of some kind. Greta who was standing behind Frau Kirchen caught his eye and mouthed the words MADAM and dropped a curtsy. What little composure he had left now evaporated and he began to panic under her steely gaze.
“I’m so sorry Madam I wasn’t thinking straight please forgive me, a good night’s rest is very important.” he meekly said and with his Greta still in his eye line and by now extremely flustered he inexplicably imitated her and as the shame overcame him he fixed his eyes on the floor and  in a most submissive fashion he lowered himself into a curtsy. It took a few seconds for the fog in his brain to clear and realising what he had just done blushed furiously.
“That was a charming gesture, and not too bad for a male” Frau Kirchen said in a warm voice, her anger vanishing and now replaced by a smile. Her whole demeanour had changed almost instantaneously it was the first time he had seen her smile and he noticed how striking she was. Large violet eyes enhanced by subtle eye-shadow under perfectly sculpted eyebrows, high cheek bone set off with the barest hint of blusher over perfect light make-up, her exquisite white teeth contrasted with the rich rose lipstick of her full lips.
He felt his knees tremble as she approached him and got close enough for him to smell the sweetness of her breath and staring at his with those magnificent eyes she continued softly,
“Yes a curtsy is such a graceful movement, so genteel …. I think I’d prefer you to curtsy rather than bow to me from now on. It’s a far more elegant way of showing respect to one’s mistress, don’t you think? You’ll do that for me now …won’t you?”
He was now acutely aware of the predicament he was in and cursed himself for it, how could he agree to something so demeaning.
“But surely that’s only for girls” he mumbled appealing to her common sense.
“Perhaps…. but it would make me happy and would go a long way towards showing you are truly sorry for your deeply offensive remarks” she breathed the words softly into his ear while caressing his face with the back of her hand.
“Well…. I … it’s just…..em..” he stammered.
“You are sorry aren’t you?” she said the merest hint of annoyance creeping into her voice.
Yes..yes of course” he blurted anxious to assure her while desperately trying to think of a way out of this morass.
“Of course… what??” she snapped.
“Madam” he blurted, confusion paralyzing his thought process and with it all hope of finding a solution to his problem fast disappearing.
“Now let me see your curtsy again, I think you could improve it slightly” Frau Kirchen curtly instructed gave him no time to respond.
The tone of her voice allowed no room for negotiation and with a deep sense of mortification he placed his right leg behind his left and bent his knees, his masculinity lowering along with his body as he executed an awkward but passable curtsy.
“Much better but this time hold the material of those ghastly trousers between your forefinger and thumb……….we really must do something about those trousers Greta…”and sensing his hesitation brusquely added “well don’t just stand there with your mouth open do it girl.”
The barked order still ringing in his ears he quickly obeyed following her instructions to the letter and as he rose from his curtsy it he suddenly dawned on him that she had referred to him as girl but her obvious satisfaction with his latest attempt tempered his inclination to correct her lest it was just a slip of the tongue. There wasn’t much point in souring her good humour for a simple error he reasoned.
“Ah yes perfect” she beamed clasping her hands to her ample bosom in much the same way as a mother would when her child exceeds her expectations, unable to contain herself she excitedly applauded his new achievement encouraging Greta to also join in.
He never felt so embarrassed in all his life and blushed once more at the obvious excitement he had generated.
“Now please ensure you remember how to do it, in future I’ll be expecting nothing less than a perfect curtsy” she said before adding “now it’s time you prepared for bed before you have your evening cocoa. Go have a shower get into your pyjamas and dressing gown and join us in the living room.”
He looked at her blankly and then turned to Greta.
“I’m sorry Madam I didn’t have time to inform him of your night-time routine” Greta apologised and turning to Robert continued “well run along and do as Madam says.”
“Eh ..  well the thing is .. ah I don’t wear pyjamas….. I don’t have any” he mumbled noting the look of disapproval on Frau Kirchen’s face.
“From his luggage, if you could call it that Madam, I’d say he has very little by way of clothes” Greta unhelpfully added.
“Oh I dare say we can find you something. Greta will leave out something on your bed that you can wear for tonight, after your shower you can put it on and join us in the living room. Frau Kirchen said and dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Now run along there’s a good girl and please take time to shower properly not less than ten minutes I insist on the highest personal hygiene standards for my servants.”
After the trauma of the last few minutes he was only too relieved to escape her attention even if it was only for ten or fifteen minutes, he hastily made for his bedroom. His heart was still racing as he closed the door and he took a few moments to calm down, sitting on the bed he once again took in the room he gradually became aware of the soft feel of the satin quilt and his nostrils detected the delicate fragrance of a feminine floral scent he looked hard but couldn’t find a shred of anything masculine about it whatsoever. Downhearted he stripped off his clothes and headed for the sanctuary of the shower and was glad of the time alone and tried to think of a strategy to deal with this dilemma. He began to calm down and was glad of the few moments to get ready before he had to join them in the living room the last thing he wanted them was to see him without clothes. He hoped her late husband’s pyjamas were loose fitting he had been teased mercilessly by girls before and he didn’t want either woman to see more than they had to. He wasn’t sure how long he had been in the shower when he heard Greta’s voice call him.
“That’s enough, you should be quite clean by now” she shouted through the door “dry yourself and get in here quickly.
The sound of her voice triggered an immediate alarm in him and immediately his heart began racing this wasn’t supposed to happen but then again as the last few hours had shown a lot of things weren’t supposed to happen.
“Won’t be long” he replied trying to supress his rising panic and frantically scanning the bathroom for a robe.
Shit! he thought nothing except the large bath towel – it will have to do.
As it is with girls many young males have body issues and Robert Kilcoyne had more reason than most to avoid appearing bare chested in front of strangers.  Minutes later he emerged sheepishly into the bedroom the large towel covering his body from his above his chest to just below the knee, he tucked it in under his left armpit to secure it in place. He was aware it wasn’t the most masculine of looks and in truth he knew it was the way girls covered themselves but he thought to himself in this situation it was all he could do.
He was taken aback to find Frau Kirchen had joined Greta but he knew he couldn’t exactly ask her to leave.
“Oh how very modest you are, covering yourself like a girl and sparing our blushes” Frau Kirchen purred as she watched him emerge from the bathroom and cross the bedroom floor  “ Greta the boy’s hair is still wet fetch a towel and wrap it up. We don’t want him catching cold.”
Try as he might to find a satisfactory response he couldn’t and stood obediently as Greta wrapped the towel into a turban around his head. He had often seen his aunts and their female guests arrange towels in a similar fashion and stealing a furtive glace at the floor length mirror he now knew the image he projected was more feminine than masculine. Frau Kirchen turned her back to him and began arranging something on the bed but as his view was obscured by her and Greta he failed to see what was piquing her interest.
“I thought I’d better help you choose as I’m not sure which colours will suit you best, I prefer this one but Greta says the baby blue would go more with the colour scheme of the room. What do you think?” 
All this fuss over a pair of pyjamas he thought regaining some composure.
As he approached the two women they parted and he saw the bed was covered with several items of an undoubtedly feminine nature.
His eyes widened he felt a tremor in his knees as Frau Kirchen held up a pair of soft pink satin pyjamas, he desperately wanted to reason with her but suddenly felt his mouth dry up.
Surely she doesn’t expect me to wear that. He screamed inside. Those are women’s pyjamas.
She held out the pyjamas and in what could only be described as a state of utter shock and unable to voice any coherent protest he reluctantly found himself accepting the feminine garment.
“Now go behind the screen and put them on……. like the good houseboy you are.” she said pointing to the dressing screen in the corner of the room.
He bristled at the reference to houseboy in such a condescending tone and in the moment or two he hesitated contemplating declining her demeaning request he saw her fold her arms over her adequate breasts in a gesture which seemed to dare him to refuse.
“Do you have a problem boy?” she snapped.
 The irritation in her voice left him in no doubt there would be consequences if he failed to comply and as his current state of dress left him feeling extremely vulnerable he knew he would look and sound ridiculous if he angrily refused.
Meekly he took the feminine nightwear and went behind the screen.
Now safely out of their view he held up the offending article to examine it. On closer inspection it was even more feminine than he had thought, he removed his towel and as he pulled on the bottoms the soft material caressed his thighs and he felt a stirring between his legs and desperately tried to think of anything at all to control it, pulling the top over his head the unmistakably strong scent of perfume assailed his nostrils. He looked down luckily the voluminous pants seemed to hide his soft but growing erection and the top hopefully would be loose enough. He knew he looked preposterous and was reluctant to reveal himself but had little choice when he heard Greta call.
“Either you come out or I’ll come in and drag you out”
He heard supressed laughter and red-faced he emerged slowly to enthusiastic coos of approval from his tormentors almost tripping in the process as his feet caught the overlong material in the pants.
“Hmm…Yes very nice but as I suspected it is a little long.” Frau Kirchen pondered out loud.
“I thought they might be Madam” Greta offered trying to ingratiate herself with her mistress “so I also brought along the matching slippers he seems to have a small foot size for a male so I thought they might fit.”
“Clever girl” her mistress said clearly pleased with Greta’s initiative “put them on him and we’ll see if it makes a difference”
Frau Kirchen watched as her maid knelt in front of the now bewildered and shamefaced boy laying the slippers to one side. She noticed how the girl lifted his right foot and gently stoked it before placing the satin kitten heeled slipper on it and then repeating the procedure with the left foot discretely rubbing his calf through the satin material before rising to her feet and straightening her apron. Frau Kirchen thought her maid seemed a little flushed and had to admit to herself that for some reason she couldn’t quite make out, the satin clad figure had held an attraction for her also. Her interest in men was minimal and in truth she really couldn’t abide the creatures particularly the older ones, their macho posturing and sexism was something she experienced quite frequently during her early career and as a result held them in low esteem and engaged with them only when absolutely necessary or when she deemed it beneficial to her interests. She recalled the way they wore those dark suits as if they conferred some sort of superiority, considering it a badge of authority giving the wearer the right to patronise what they considered to be the weaker sex. Often she’d wondered if, stripped of their armour and forced to wear more revealing clothes like skirts and dresses not to mention constricting underwear, would their attitude towards women be more empathic? The apparent change in her new employee seemed to go some way in suggesting this to be the case as there seemed to be a discernable difference in the haughty male who confidently strode into her study only a few short hours ago but how long before that inflated male ego would surface. Underneath that veneer of male self-importance she thought she sensed a shred of modesty maybe living in an all -female household would help him overcome his stubborn masculine impudence. Maybe this was a chance to save him from himself, set him on the right path, she could help this boy avoid such misogynistic behaviour, no! better still, prevent it from even happening in the first place, nip it in the bud.
I’m sure it would stand to him in later life she thought.
The two inch heels had the desired effect, the voluminous satin pants no longer trailed the floor but he felt his calves tighten as they adjusted to the new angle of his ankles being forced two inches off the ground. This latest addition to his night attire stripped him of any hope of maintaining even the merest semblance of male dignity. Robert looked down and as he moved his feet to his horror found he could make out satin bows on the slippers. Another wave of embarrassment washed over him and he hung his head slightly hoping his long brown hair would partially cover the mounting humiliation he now felt. After getting to her feet and straightening her apron Greta stood back to allow her mistress to inspect the boy.
“Better, I’ve always thought appropriate footwear is so important to compliment one’s nightgown and those slippers complete the look wonderfully.” Frau Kirchen trilled, taking a moment to survey the boy, she continued “but that gorgeous hair needs to be tied back so the poor boy can see.  Greta, brush his hair back and up please, the way you’ve done for me several times.”
Robert by now practically immobile from shock nevertheless heard her words “compliment one’s nightgown” very clearly, but unable as he was to mount any serious protest meekly allowed the maid to brush his hair into the style required by her mistress and could only watch helplessly as his tormentress removed the jewelled hair combs from her own hair and fix them firmly either side of his head to hold his new hairstyle in place. Both she and Greta stood back to admire their handiwork.
“Yes Madam, much better. I wasn’t sure the pyjamas would fit, particularly around the bust.” Greta gushed clearly delighted with the result.
“Yes, a great improvement” Frau Kirchen agreed “and I have to admit he does look better in them than I do, they were a birthday gift from my friend Her Grace, Lady Edwina the Duchess of Leinster.
OH NO the voice inside his head screamed. I’m wearing her pyjamas and slippers.”
His persecutor cast her eye over the wretched boy in front of her and he thought he saw  a smile forming as she took in his obvious discomfort before continuing,
“As you can see they’re cut in a vintage style and made from pale pink buttery soft Duchess satin- obviously – with a floaty lace appliqué top and wide leg cut pants with side button closure. Very chic, very feminine, Lady Edwina has such very good taste when it comes to beautiful nightwear, don’t you think Robert?”
Still trying to come to terms with his predicament he barely noticed he was asked a question.
“The mistress asked you a question.” Greta upbraided him still hoping to worm her way into her employer’s good books.
“Yes” Robert answered unable to bring himself to comment further his brain now addled by being on show in such a horrible ultra- feminine garment.
“Are you forgetting to whom you are speaking and how you should act?” Greta scolded him and this time she noticed her admonishment clearly impressed her mistress.
The tone of Greta’s voice and Frau Kirchen’s now obvious displeasure at his failure to address her properly shook Robert from his almost hypnotic state. He knew he would have to redeem himself quickly if he was not to incur her ire and possibly a more severe tongue lashing.
“I’m sorry Madam I’m just not used to such luxurious nightwear?” he lied through his teeth but quickly remembered he had somehow agreed he should now curtsy when speaking to her. He held the inordinately plentiful soft material of the pyjama pants –which he hated to admit was in reality more like a skirt -between each thumb and forefinger and placing his right knee behind his left he once more lowered himself into the required degrading curtsy.
“I’m glad to see you haven’t forgotten everything you’ve been taught this evening” Frau Kirchen said undeniably pleased at his curtsy.” So you feel comfortable in your new nightwear”
“Yes Madam, very comfortable” he again lied and curtsied once more for good measure.
“Well thank Madam for her kindness.” Greta chided him.
“Thank you Madam for providing me with pyjamas for the night, it was very kind of you.” he mumbled hoping he sounded convincing and  curtsied once more making a mental note that he would purchase a pair of men’s pyjamas the following morning to ensure he would not have to go through this mortifying experience again.
“And …..” Greta reminded him.
“And the hair clips Madam” he said quietly, wishing the ground would open and swallow him  adding to his mental note a haircut.
“You are welcome” Frau Kirchen smiled but before Robert could draw breath she added,
“Think of them as a gift for the duration of your stay with me, look your initials are already on them.”
He had been so perplexed during this whole charade that he hadn’t noticed the large initials RK embroidered ornately into the pocket of the jacket.
“Yes instead of Rozamund Kirchen they now stand for Robert Kilcoyne, they suit you so well, I’m sure you will wear them with pride.”
Oh no not my initials it’s like she’s branded me- and now she wants me to wear them every night,  he thought but reasoned that she probably meant this outrageous remark more as a compliment  than an insult, not wishing to provoke a potential confrontation he feigned another smile.
“Greta, the matching robe.” she instructed the maid.
“Oh do stand up straight girl, shoulders back…. Oh for heaven’s sake you’re slouching I simply cannot abide poor posture it’s so unbecoming and ungainly in a servant not to mention a sign of ill breeding” Frau Kirchen berated him and began fussing at the pyjama top as he reluctantly did as he was told.
“Much better, poor posture can lead to….”she broke off as she thought she spotted something unusual, then added, “What’s have we here”?
She put her hand to his chest, Robert froze, his secret was about to be uncovered, literally.
“Please Madam no.. please no..” he pleaded and tried to make for the bathroom but she had already caught him firmly by the hand and in an instant Greta had hold of his other hand.
“No, please no” he repeated.
“It’s all right my dear, it’s all right” Frau Kirchen said quietly and he noticed a strange look had come over her as he saw her eyes widen as she suddenly became aware of something not quite right, Greta moved closer as her mistress unbuttoned his pyjama top and slid it from his shoulders to reveal a pair of well-rounded and reasonably sized breasts.
“Now I know why my pyjamas fit you so well and why you wear an oversize shirt it also explains why you’ve been slouching since you’ve arrived here.” she said 
She cupped the flesh in her soft hands and squeezed them gently and despite his upset he knew what would happen – his nipples began to enlarge.
 “He’s got lovely little titties” Greta said somewhat uncouthly unable to contain her astonishment  much to Madam’s chagrin, before adding “I’ve never seen anything like it”
“It’s called Gynecomastia, and please don’t refer to them as titties, it’s so crude” Frau Kirchen informed her maid brusquely “they are breasts just like ours. I believe this condition can be quite common in younger males but it’s unusual for a male of Robert’s age to still have them and so well developed too. Feel them they’re just like a woman’s.”
Greta needing no encouragement stepped forward and looking him directly in the eyes cupped both breasts of the now sobbing boy in her hands and was amazed at the feel of such quintessentially feminine glands on a male, she’d felt many a girl’s breasts and there was no difference.
“There’s no need to be upset or embarrassed, these things happen.” Frau Kirchen addressed him after instructing Greta to step back. “I must confess I was more than a little hesitant at employing a male and wondered whether you would fit into an all -female house but now it makes little difference as you have something in common with your fellow servant. She drew an embroidered handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed his eyes.
“There, there..” she consoled him and instructed Greta to put the pyjama top back on him “ dry your eyes it’s just one of nature’s little tricks much in the same way as some people have bigger noses, ears or whatever no need to feel embarrassed and as I said you do fill my pyjama top in all the right places.”
In the few moments she turned to discuss something with the maid Robert’s mind tried to process the avalanche of thoughts now running through it. He had managed to keep his breasts secret from most people mainly through various ruses like  large sized shirts and hunching his shoulders to minimise the their size  which he’s almost gotten away with here. He’d also tried binding with a large bandage type fabric a trick he’d learnt from a strange woman his aunts had stay with them some time back and if he had known this job was live-in he would have taken similar measures to conceal them better before he arrived. His aunts of course knew of his condition and recently had expressed some strange views on the subject but he’d managed to leave before they took these any further. Despite his constant pleadings his aunts were not that keen on surgery citing potential health risks and wanted to postpone the decision for a few years and as he would not reach the required age to allow him access to his trust fund for another two years he was in limbo. Barely a few hours ago the opportunity for the money he so desperately needed became a reality and the salary on offer was more than enough to pay for the surgery however he hadn’t counted on having to make so many compromises but he knew he really had no choice – this was the only way he could finance the operation. The contract was only for a few weeks and that would be would be sufficient, once he had completed his time and collected his money he would be able to leave. While he felt her rules were incredibly restrictive and controlling even down to insisting that her servants went to bed at nine pm and insisting he wear pyjamas, Frau Kitchen despite her authoritarian manner seemed to be supportive and accepting of his condition, although he had wished she hadn’t insisted on making him wear these horrible pyjamas.
Her pyjamas he reminded himself and cringed.
“I think the poor girl has suffered enough embarrassment now that we have discovered her secret Greta” Frau Kirchen announced.
Robert snapped out of his stupor at the mention of him as a girl and felt a surge of anger rise and was just about to interrupt her when she added
“Put him into his dressing gown I’m sure he will feel a little more comfortable and we’ll take cocoa in the servants lounge.”
Maybe just a slip of the tongue- she probably didn’t mean any harm, he thought and his anger subsided. He held out the hope that the dressing gown would be if not quite masculine then decidedly less feminine that his new satin pyjamas. He was sorely disappointed and watched in horror as Greta held out the full length robe for him to slide his arms through, he could not help thinking this garment was even more feminine if that was possible.
The fabric was a heavy quilted satin in the matching soft pink of his pyjamas with an embroidered bodice stitched with gold thread, the wide lapels were at least twice the depth of quilting and there was elaborate runching at the top of the shoulders, the big puffed pleated sleeves flared out extravagantly. When he saw it held out for him he recoiled and while he wished to have his ultra-feminine nightwear covered he immediately recognised this dressing gown would only serve to enhance his increasingly girlish look. He had little choice and with a resigned submissiveness he was not used to, slid his arms into the sleeves, Greta wasted little time in tying the satin belt tightly into an elaborate bow at the front.


“Yes…very nice” Frau Kirchen purred as she made minor adjustments to the sleeves and lapels allowing her hand to linger a little longer than necessary at his breasts adding as an afterthought “mind you I had forgotten it is a tad longer than the pyjamas. I usually wear the three inch slippers rather than the two inch ones he’s wearing, what do you think Greta?”
“It is a bit long Madam but perhaps if he holds it up slightly when walking he may avoid tripping.” Greta answered.
“You mean like an evening gown. Of course, silly me women and girls do it all the time. Please show him how it’s done.” her mistress instructed.
Robert looked aghast, he hardly understood an iota of what they were talking about but nonetheless could clearly comprehend that they were comparing his new nightwear to a lady’s evening gown. After snatching another glimpse of his ridiculous reflection in the full length mirror and much to his extreme chagrin he had to concede they had a point.
“Now pet, your gown is a little too long” Greta began condescendingly as if speaking to a six year old “we don’t want you tripping yourself, now do we, there’s a good girl, sorry boy? So when a girl’s dress is too long she lifts her skirts from the thigh, like this”
Greta demonstrated by lifting the skirt of her own uniform.
“Now you try.” she said a sly smirk creasing her face.
Robert suspected she was enjoying his discomfort but was unable to respond in any meaningful way as he was by now totally demoralised and  not only by the humiliating feminine clothes he had been forced to wear but also by the fact that both women now knew his most intimate and mortifying secret – his small but undoubtedly feminine breasts. He was however very grateful that neither woman mocked him in the way some had done when he was discovered in college after emerging from a shower bare breasted. The situation he had found himself in now was so overwhelming he just wanted to escape their presence and although his primary emotion was anger caused by his subjugation, he felt- dressed as he was he would look even more ridiculous if he threw a tantrum and considered his best course of action would be to go along with them, at least it may expedite the process and he could finally retreat to relative sanctuary of his room. But for now he had to obey the uniformed maid giving him instructions on how to carry himself in this preposterous gown.
Shamefaced he did as he was told holding his quilted satin dressing gown between the fingers of both hands and lifting the hem several inches off the floor exactly like he had seen his aunts do with their elaborate evening gowns when they dressed for the opera.
“Well done, very elegant” Frau Kirchen encouraged as he walked a few steps across the bedroom floor, he felt a sting in her remark but concluded by her tone it wasn’t meant hurtfully.
“Yes Madam, surprising as he’s in heels” Greta added with more than a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
“I think we could all do with that cocoa now Greta” Frau Kirchen announced prompting Greta to head for the kitchen leaving them alone.
The sophisticated and imposing figure of his new employer walked slowly over to him and gently brushed the stray strands of hair from his cheeks behind his ears and gazed deeply into his eyes, he tried to step back but his legs would not respond. She touched his cheek gently with the back of her hand and then slowly slid her other hand down the luxurious satin gown and lingered at his hated breasts tracing her finger around the fleshy mound. As she pressed her own ample breasts against his he could feel his nipples harden and as he inhaled her scent he became alarmed at the growing erection between his legs. If she was aware of this impertinence she didn’t show it and by now he was beginning to panic but unable to move and was mesmerised like a rabbit in headlights
“I hope you realise by now that I am a thoughtful and generous employer but one who demands high standards and unquestioning obedience.” she said quietly as she paused allowing him to respond.
He could only nod his agreement his mind busy trying to contain his growing erection.
“Good, now tell me exactly what your position is in my household.” she continued
“Houseboy Madam” he mumbled barely believing he uttered the word but not forgetting to address her properly.
“Houseboy, Housemaid there is really no difference I consider these terms interchangeable, the main thing is your accept that you are a servant is that not correct?” she said her voice still soft but now with a discernable firmness.
“Yes Madam” he said in a reverential tone, too nervous to correct her.
“And a maidservant’s employer is called her……?” she said allowing the question hang in the air while fixing him with her large violet eyes.
“Her mistress” he quietly replied remembering that his aunts’ insisted the housemaids referred to them in a similar fashion, he also recalled once overhearing them discuss how degrading it was. He now knew how they felt. 
“Good. Now what exactly is my relationship to you in this house?” she asked him.
The idea of referring to this woman - any woman for that matter – in such an archaic way as Mistress was extremely demeaning but he had already acknowledged he was her servant and from what he already knew of her steely determination she would insist on establishing such protocol no matter how long it took, better to get it over with he conceded. He bowed his head in mortification as he murmured 
“You are my mistress, Madam” his head spinning at his wretched admission.
“Stop mumbling girl. Louder.” she snapped the note of impatience quite clear in her voice.
“You are my mistress Madam” he said shamefully and with the sound of those contemptible words ringing in his ears he publicly accepted his new status as her servant and much as he wanted to correct her in addressing him as a girl didn’t think she was in any mood to hear him contradict her so he swallowed his pride, and not for the first time that evening.
“Excellent” she beamed her demeanour changing instantly and becoming almost friendly “I had hoped you would accept your new status with good grace much as you have accepted your new nightwear. Now we can join your sister housemaid for some refreshing cocoa.”
Frau Kirchen satisfied that the conversation was over turned on her four inch patent leather heels and made for the door.
Sister housemaid! he screamed inside, has this woman completely forgotten I’m a male?
He lifted the skirts of his pink satin quilted dressing gown and obediently followed his mistress.

tbc
©



11 comments:

L.G. said...

Carrie, this is shaping up into another fantastic strand, equally as exciting as your "Jack and Rose" and "Amongst Women" series. I love the way you build the tension gradually, so that your unfortunate hero experiences many agonies and embarrassments before eventually being forced into the inevitable position of housemaid. You are the master of this kind of fiction, do please keep it going!
Well done! L.G.

rocketdave said...

Wow, I wasn't expecting a second chapter so soon. While I put off checking out the first part for a few days, as soon as I saw chapter two had been posted, I wasted no time in reading it.

You're absolutely correct, Carrie, that it's not the destination, but the journey; I would have said that myself if I'd thought of it at the time. Pretty much any story in this genre could be summed up the same way: "unsuspecting male finds himself feminized." In fact, if you strip a lot of classic stories down to a basic plot summary, they don't sound particularly exciting. It's the execution that makes something work or not, and you've executed this premise in a very engaging manner.

Considering Robert's aunts are in a completely different country, I did wonder how likely we were to actually meet them, though the fact that we've gotten as much information about Robert's history as we have made it seem like a possibility; there's practically enough there for an entirely separate story. Regardless, his backstory does provide some interesting layers to the plot at least.

I only recently learned the term "gynecomastia" from ads that link that condition to a drug used to treat schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. Naturally, as soon as I heard that, my mind immediately went to how something like that might be exploited in this genre. Not that I'm suggesting that that's the cause of Robert's condition; it's just how I happened to become aware of it.

I echo LG's sentiments; I'm loving this story so far and fervently hope you choose to continue writing.

Unknown said...

Oh my, this story is just so very top shelf! Excellent! I have missed your art at Petticoat Discipline Monthly. I've written under different names. Priscilla Bouffant, Felicia Fussyfrocks and Madame Tessa. Your art work inspired a piece I did as Madame Tessa at Petticoat discipline monthly. It was called Makeover at the Mansion. Personally, I have not enjoyed a story this much in quite some time. Thank you for such great pleasure.

Anonymous said...

Part 2:
A young man with the stigma of having a female breast is to establish a strong male tanks and at least try to hide with a pronounced macho posturing this female image. Added to this is his already frail stature it is also to play.
So he comes in his summer holidays again in an ultra feminine household of Madam churches, so to speak, from "bad to worse". (From bad to worse) and finally learns here the sensual pleasures of an ultra feminine sleepwear in his ultra feminine bedroom with beautiful make-up table (several levels) and make-up utensils and can even bounce the obligatory curtsy towards his madam. The assimilation but came unexpectedly fast!
The working atmosphere in the house of Madam churches seem to be also very good. Boss Madam churches drinks before the Betti-go with their maid a refreshing cocoa.

Just a few lines to the beautiful figure of the female bedroom with 3 people in the image. (Great technique, I do not know).
Madam churches, posh dressed in her beautiful robe, Robert in his beautiful long pink robe with the bulges of his beautiful female breasts and the high-combed-back brown hair and in front of him / her in a squatting position the pretty uniformed maid Greta in adapting his female slippers.

Wow, what do I look for? The maid Greta obviously has no tights, here the Strapsrand her stockings can be seen. It may be that with multiple straps of her all-in-one fixed Corselette.
A pleasant, comfortable underwear, highly recommended for maids, who have to walk in their work very much. Madam was very generous in this respect.

Please excuse my bad english, I'll try to improve myself. But to write a review, is more or less the "icing on the cake" of a very good story.
Many greetings from Germany

Damn, I love this story.

Unknown said...

Very well done, please continue!

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Carrie P said...

Thanks to Dave, LG and Johan for your comments, I know I sound like a broken record but I feel it is important to acknowledge my appreciation for all comments, believe me it does make a difference which is why I get all hot and bothered when Dave’s art is not acknowledged more.
I’ve been aware of gynecomastia for several years and as it’s a genuine medical condition I always wanted to incorporate it into a story for several reasons, although in reality it must be a very embarrassing condition. Robert's aunts and background could be an interesting storyline but as he’s just escaped their smothering influence it’s far too early to know if they will have further involvement.
Johan, that’s high praise indeed from someone of Priscilla/Felicia’s talent, thank you. I’ve read Makeover and it’s a great story I’m glad I could help with whatever piece it was that prompted the story. Unfortunately due to personal issues I was unable to maintain the commitment of delivering a piece to PDQ every month which is a pity as Helga was very supportive.
I think when our German friend refers to “Madam churches” I think he means Madam Kirchen as Kirchen I believe is German for church I should have known that as the English/Scottish word Kirk also means church – the reason I used Kirchen was I knew a wonderful German woman with the name and it sounded right, in English it doesn’t sound so good. He is correct when he says petticoat discipline was used in Victorian England so it’s obviously a subject close to his heart also, I’m also glad you like the picture. Don’t worry about the English not being correct , we get the general idea of your comment and your English is much better than my German. When English is not your first language it must be very difficult to attempt such a lengthy comment – so thank you very much.
And now for something completely different as Monty Python used to say
I know most of Bea’s readers are from the US and football (soccer) is way down the list of popular sports there, but your team are on the brink of making the last 16 in the World Cup – a major achievement- but they need at least a draw from their game with Germany otherwise Portugal or Ghana could go through. Even Bea, who doesn’t like the sport watched the game against Portugal.
Get behind your team whatever country you’re from.
Take care
Carrie

Unknown said...

Carrie P said: "I’ve read Makeover and it’s a great story I’m glad I could help with whatever piece it was that prompted the story."

It was the entire series of storylines/art, of submissive sissy William, spouse Caroline, and "Mummy"

Tammietoo said...

Wow, nice work Carrie! I haven't visited the blog in awhile and what a nice treat to find these two chapters. I am really enjoying the tone, pace and of course subject matter. I like your descriptions (clothing, settings, etc) and the interactions of the characters thus far. Please continue this wonderful story.

Anonymous said...

Wonderful!! Thank you so much!!

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Marie-Christine said...

I am so glad I found the next part of your wonderful story. I really loved the beginning and can’t wait to read the next part.
Love, Marie-Christine