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:
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.
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.
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.
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.
Very well done, please continue!
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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
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"
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.
Wonderful!! Thank you so much!!
sissy maid colette
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
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