A Family Affair- story with image

 Below is another story from a few years ago that I’ve posted elsewhere, so some readers may have read it previously. 

For those who haven’t hopefully you’ll enjoy it.

The image is included towards at end of the story.

I haven't had a chance to check for typos/grammatical errors etc - so apologies in advance.

Carrie

 

A Family Affair

Bby

CarrieP

 

 

 It was always difficult to find a place to be alone even for an hour. It’s not as if the house was small, quite the contrary it was extremely large, two drawing rooms, a library, spacious dining room,  twelve or thirteen bedrooms, it just went on and on not to mention the servants quarters.

The servants!  William sighed wearily to himself.

The servants always found him no matter where he hid, going from room to room like tracker dogs sniffing him out, looking in every wardrobe, nook and cranny. Now he was caught again, and cursed himself for not choosing a less obvious place to hide than under the bed. His heart raced as he looked at the highly polished court shoes and black stockings of one of the housemaids as she stood barely inches away from his nose. Of course she knew exactly where he was the whole time, she was playing with him as a cat would play with a mouse before she finally gets bored and decides to pounce. He began to slowly blush as he watched her tapping her shoe impatiently.

“I wonder where Master William could be?” she pondered out loud. “He should know the longer he refuses to join the mistress for afternoon tea the worse it will be for him.”

 She sighed dramatically and he knew she was getting slightly irritated now that she had her prey within her grasp and the chase was over.

“Perhaps I’d better get Mrs Broadstrap to help me.”

The mention of the housekeeper’s name had the desired effect, a dull thud rang out in the quiet room as his head hit the bed’s base and he let out a squeal. The last thing he wanted was that dreadful woman humiliating him in front of the servants, as usual, he was completely oblivious to the fact that he was perfectly capable of doing that all by himself. His pathetic attempt at concealing himself from this girl was only the latest in a long line of similar undertakings. He scuttled out from under the bed and offered one of many lame excuses he had to hand for these embarrassing surrenders.

“Oh, hello Martha.”he blurted trying to sound as casual as possible “I was just looking for something I had dropped.”

“In Miss Veronica’s bedroom?” the maid answered with an unmistakably disbelieving tone to her voice.

His looked at the maid in her afternoon uniform of black knee length dress, white pinafore apron and a small frilled cap. Her position as a domestic servant should have conferred him with a sense of superiority reflecting the normal rules of established social and gender hierarchy.

Nonetheless William always was slightly socially awkward and never sure of exactly how to react to certain encounters particularly with members of the opposite sex and had never quite mastered these formalities. Servants also seemed to unnerve him and he felt they were like cunning animals – they could smell his unease or more accurately his fear. Before he had time to formulate an answer the girl added with a hint of menace,

“Perhaps it is just as well Miss Broadstrap is not here.” Martha said sharply.

“I… emm… ah… “ he stammered, not knowing what to say.

He, and she, knew perfectly well what would have happened. In a polite but stern manner Miss Broadstrap would have berated him for his absence and failure to tell her what his plans were. Any attempt at protesting would have been met with a withering look and a further lecture on the mis-placed and idiotic notion of superiority of the male sex and as usual his upbraiding would end with an apology from him. There were times when he felt he too was a servant, subject to the rules of the housekeeper rather than the role of man of the house. This was inevitably done in front of the servants, which was extremely humiliating.

Of course Veronica’s mother did not help the situation. After their engagement he tried to persuade his new fiancée to move out but she prevailed on him to change his mind and soon he was securely ensconced in her mother’s palatial home. Although after the first few weeks he felt the word imprisoned was a far better description. However he had to concede it was extremely comfortable and her mother although a little overbearing was most welcoming, he wanted for nothing and was waited on day and night by the all-female domestic staff.  However after a few weeks things began to change, small things and nothing so drastic that would have come between Veronica and himself, it wasn’t something he could easily put his finger on. He hadn’t seen a male since he arrived, her mother had been a widow for years, the gardeners and chauffeur were female, there was no butler only the haughty, un-nerving Miss Broadstrap, and no male servants. It was as if he was becoming submerged in a sea of femininity, he had a strange and slightly irrational feeling that his masculinity was being slowly drained from his body. Around this time Veronica’s mother had insisted on choosing his clothes which he thought were, a little too… well… gender neutral would be a kind way of describing them. With the intimidating Miss Broadstrap hovering in the background she said they were most fashionable and as usual, gently but firmly coaxed him into agreeing with her.  Not wishing to create bad feeling and trying to make a good impression he acquiesced. He was never the most dedicated follower of fashion and so put up little resistance, his nightwear was even less masculine, satin pyjamas in feminine shades various shades of pink, lavender and lilac. The bottoms were like ladies plazzao pants and the tops were hardly what anyone would call manly with large mother of pearl buttons and wide flounced bell sleeves at the elbow. She even purchased a Victorian nightshirt which in truth looked more like a woman’s nightgown with its ruffled lace hem.  After been presented with these as a special gift he could slowly but surely feel what little male confidence he still had ebbing away. Of course, the maids giggling when Veronica’s mother held them up to his body to check his size did not help matters and ridiculous as it sounds he began to feel slightly intimidated by this all female household from his future mother in law to the lowly kitchen maid.

The situation had got worse since Veronica had left on a business trip some weeks previously leaving him alone in her mother’s and oppressive companionship, he should have been  concerned  when his future mother in law said, “Now I will have you all to myself and we can get much better acquainted.” He seemed to be constantly in her company and if he managed to evade her in this cavernous house a maid was quickly dispatched to find him and escort him back to his rightful place by her side. So now once more he was discovered by a domestic servant in the most embarrassing circumstances, cowering under his fiancée’s bed. The threat of an encounter with the housekeeper quelled whatever anger he may have felt and he meekly accepted his fate.

“I was just on my way downstairs.” he lied unconvincingly.

“Yes I’m sure you were. “ the maid answered contemptuously making no attempt to hide her  scorn as she added in a superior tone “Now please follow me the mistress is waiting.”

It was yet another indignity in a long list of humiliations he had suffered.

If Veronica was here she would not stand anyone particularly a mere maid treating me in such a disrespectful way. he thought bitterly as he struggled to keep up with the maid’s mannish stride.

She stopped outside the door and made an unnecessary adjustment to his fitted baby blue jacket.

“Much better.” she said as she arranged the collar of his shirt to her satisfaction, several admonishments by Veronica’s mother for not paying enough attention to his grooming ensured no protest from him. “What a lovely blouse you are wearing today, Master William, the mistress has such excellent taste. Not many men can wear pink satin and still look masculine.”

Although she said this with a straight face he could easily detect the undoubted sarcasm in her tone. He blushed furiously, she said nothing further but did not take her eyes off him as she knocked on the door and as he heard his future mother in law’s plummy voice Martha opened the door and ushered him inside where Veronica’s mother sat on one of the late Victorian armchairs wearing a pant suit that made her look even more intimidating than usual.

“Ah there you are William.” she said, her voice betraying her irritation that he had failed to appear for afternoon tea at the appointed time, an event that had become almost compulsory. “I expressly told you that I had visitors this afternoon and as my future son-in-law I expect you to show a little more consideration.”

It was not that he had forgotten this tedious daily arrangement, the past weeks had seen a constant flow of visitors calling and each day followed the same pattern. He would be introduced to the guests as Veronica’s fiancée and her mother’s future son-in-law, he would be admired and complemented on his delicate appearance and wonderful taste in fashion- much to his future mother-in-law’s delight. He had experienced over a dozen of these afternoon ordeals and at each and every one he was the only male in attendance. At each of these dreadful occasions he would be seated between two middle aged matrons who would question him on various aspects of the wedding. In Veronica’s absence, her mother had ensured he was involved in the arrangements although this involvement was in name only. In actuality, his participation merely meant he was required to enthusiastically agree with everything she did or said. She had said on more than one occasion that she had preferred him to be more involved than Veronica, remarking that her daughter had little or no flair for such an important event.  It was not going to be a huge affair just an intimate gathering of fifty or close very close family and friends  all of which would be on her side as he had been raised by foster parents who were now deceased and had lost contact with the few close friends he’d had.

Veronica’s lack of the usual feminine enthusiasm for the wedding depressed her mother and she cajoled William into being her co- wedding planner although lackey would be a better description,however, he agreed to ensure harmony.  Her view was that she was mother of the bride and, after all, what would her family and friends think if the entire affair was marred by a lack of attention to detail, the flowers, music, catering, invitations, and of course the most important detail of all – the bridal gown.

“William!” her voice cut through his thoughts “Are you listening to me?”

“I’m sorry Penelope.” he answered “I completely lost track of the time.”

“William, dear William.” she sighed as if speaking to a five year old child “I thought we agreed that as I am soon to become your mother-in-law you should address me in a more appropriate and less formal  manner.”

He noticed her foot tapping impatiently and reluctant as he was to comply with her instruction he knew to refuse would only result in a long drawn conversation in which she would confound him with a mixture of warped logic and misplaced guilt. As they were alone he surrendered without his usual pathetically timid and ultimately useless protest.

“Yes Mummy, I’m sorry Mummy.” he meekly answered.

“What a delightful boy.” A voice came from beyond his peripheral vision.

“Yes Penelope.” Another voice quickly followed “Such a refreshing change to hear a young man address his new mother –in-law ,well, future mother-in-law I suppose, with such affection and deference.

Startled at the unexpected voices William turned to see two middle aged women smiling at him, after he got over the shock he cringed inside knowing that these ladies had heard  him address his future mother-in-law in such a childish, even girlish manner.  As he stood rooted to the spot they walked past him and took up a position next to Veronica’s mother.

Another one of these dreadful afternoon teas he sighed to himself.

“We have heard so much about you, dear boy.” One of the women gushed.

“William let me introduce my younger sisters, Mrs Lavinia Fitzroy  and  Mrs Daphne Beaufort.” Veronica’s mother said.

“If the darling young man is addressing you as Mummy he really must address us as Aunt Lavinia and Aunt Daphne.”Lavinia said. “Isn’t that so dear William.”

“Well…I…emm…ah…”he stammered, the idea of addressing these two women who were maybe twelve or fifteen years older them him as Aunt would make him feel even more emasculated.

“We will be very disappointed if you don’t” Daphne said as both women moved to him and linked his arms in theirs.

“I… ah… but…””he continued to stumble.

“William!” his future mother-in-law snapped. “Please do as you are told.”

Her sharp rebuke caused a wave of panic in the young man.

“Yes Mummy.”

“Now give Aunt Lavinia and Aunt Daphne a kiss, the way I taught you.” Mummy said.

In a most girlish fashion he gave both a kiss on either cheek.

“Now you must sit and tell us all about the arrangements for the wedding.”Daphne said as she sat on the couch and patted the space next to her, Lavinia quickly joined them sandwiching him between the two women.

“There’s not much to tell Mrs Fitzroy, I…” he began but instantly interrupted by Mrs Beaumont.

“Now William what did we agree you should call us.” she said forcefully.

He looked at her and for a moment thought about objecting to being treated like a child but the stern look on all three women’s faces immediately dissuaded him of that notion and he timidly capitulated.

“I’m sorry…”he swallowed what remaining pride he had “Aunt Lavinia.”

“Much better dear boy.”  Aunt Lavinia answered patronisingly before adding in a pleasant but extremely firm tone “Now please do not have me correct you again.”

A quick glance at her face confirmed that just like Veronica’s mother, Mrs Fitzroy or Aunt Lavinia as he was now to address her, did not like to be challenged on any matter.

“Oh don’t be too harsh on the boy Lavinia.” Mrs Beaumont interceded on his behalf “It must be a little daunting acquiring two aunts so suddenly, isn’t that so William.”

William was still recovering from his sharp reprimand and did not wish to seek a confrontation he could not win.

“Oh yes… Aunt Daphne.” he blurted, managing to disguise his abhorrence at having to use this form of address but thought it best to conform at least for the moment.  

“There you see Lavinia.” Mrs Beaumont chided her sister as she patted his cheek” William only needed a little time to get used to his new aunts, isn’t that right William.”

He could feel himself being dragged into their orbit and felt a hierarchy had now been established but reasoned that if he objected all three women would misrepresent his position to Veronica which would no doubt cause problems between them. He quickly considered it was not worth the trouble and would ask Veronica to resolve the matter when she returned, after all, how could a fully grown man be expected to refer to her mother as ‘Mummy’ and her sisters as ‘Aunt’?  It was so demeaning, he was sure the servants must be laughing behind his back.

“William!” Mummy’s voice broke through his thoughts “Are you listening?”

“Oh don’t scold the dear boy Penelope.” Aunt Daphne came to his defence. “He is probably thinking about the wedding.”

“Yes, I was …” he lied grateful for the excuse before quickly remembering to add the required designation “Aunt Daphne.”

“Well we all know how very busy Veronica is,” Mrs Fitzroy began, her sisters nodding their agreement “and she kindly asked us if we could help her mother organise as much of it as possible. Of course it will not be a large wedding, those affairs are so vulgar, don’t you think?”

She paused briefly and looked at William for confirmation, not that he had dreamed of contradicting her, he was far too overawed for such a brave or more realistically, foolish deed although he reluctantly conceded afraid would be a much better word.

“Oh yes Aunt Lavinia.” he exclaimed more through fear than enthusiasm.

“So glad you agree William.” Veronica’s mother added “After all a girl’s wedding day is one of the most important days in her life. I’m sure you agree?”

All three women gazed at him intently, Veronica’s mother’s arched eyebrows signalled the required response.

“Yes Mummy.” he replied with as much eagerness as he could gather.

“Splendid!” she said and beamed at him with genuine affection “I knew I could depend on my new son, for that is what I consider you.”

William was just so relieved that he was on her good side that he quickly replied enthusiastically and this time without hesitation.

“Thank you Mummy.”

The smile of satisfaction on all three women’s face vindicated his fawning deference.

Anything for a quiet life he justified his shameful obsequiousness.

“Now William why don’t you ring for tea?” Aunt Lavinia said “and we can discuss your big day.”

William looked at the servant’s bell and hesitated, he hated dealing with the servants, he felt being the sole male in the house they were always resentful of him as he had disrupted the balance of an all-female household. They barely concealed their contempt for him and he dreaded when he was left alone with any of them.

“Oh Lavinia, he feels a little shy with the servants, Isn’t that so William?” Mummy explained.

“I …ah…”he mumbled.

“William you really do need to assert yourself.” Aunt Daphne said patting his knee “You must to impose your authority on servants, show them you are their superior.  In a few months time you will be the master of this house you should start acting like one.”

“Yes William, you need to be more forceful.”Aunt Lavinia concurred “More firm, you are the man of the house after all.”

The three women gazed at him and he reluctantly picked up the servants bell and rang it and Martha appeared moments later.

“You rang Madam.” she said bobbing a curtsy to her mistress.

“Actually it was Master William, Martha.” Veronica’s mother said gesturing to the pale young man.

Martha looked at him blankly but he could clearly see the scorn in her eyes.

“Well… go on William.” Aunt Lavinia urged.”Martha doesn’t have all day.”

“I…emm…I…”he whispered, his anxiety getting the better of him as she continued to hold his gaze.

“Oh do speak up William.” Aunt Daphne snapped “the girl can barely hear you.”

“You require something Master William?” Martha asked gently but William clearly heard the coded sarcasm.

He hesitated for a moment.

“Tea, perhaps? Master William.” she asked as if speaking as if to a child.

“Ah… yes… tea. Thank you Martha.” he finally managed to say.

“I’ll bring it at once Miss.” she said.

He heard a barely suppressed titter from his two new aunts.

“Oh I’m sorry Master William.” Martha apologised as his face suddenly turned red. “With so many ladies here today I completely forgot myself. Please forgive me.”

“Quite understandable my girl.” Aunt Lavinia snorted as she looked at William who by now was visibly cringing with embarrassment.

Martha curtsied to him, the contempt in her eyes was now replaced but one of laughter and she left with a swish of skirts. Miss Broadstrap appeared as she opened the door to leave but waited silently until there was a break in the conversation.

“Miss William!” Aunt Lavinia chortled; William’s blush deepened as her sisters joined in. “I’m not surprised she took addressed you as ‘Miss’ you were like a schoolgirl in front of her headmistress. William the girl is a servant you really need to be more confident. Be more of a man.”

“Oh don’t be too upset William.” Aunt Daphne consoled him “It was an easy mistake for the girl to make.”

This was of little comfort to the young man, any confidence he had seemed to be quickly evaporating from his body.

“I am sorry to interrupt Madam.” Miss Broadstrap addressed Veronica’s mother “The lady you were expecting has arrived and has asked to see you.”

“Run along Penelope.”Aunt Lavinia said” I’m sure William will make a perfect hostess. We have so much to discuss.”

“Don’t be cruel Lavinia.” she retorted as she walked to the door with Miss Broadstrap in tow. “The poor boy is far too delicate for your ghastly machinations. Daphne, please try to keep her in check, I will not be long.”

William sank into the couch as both women turned their eyes on him. He had spent the day avoiding his future mother-in-law and now he dreaded seeing her leave. Of course in his petrified state the irony was lost on him.

“Now that we have you alone dear boy,” Lavinia began as she patted him on the knee, he felt a drop of sweat form at the nape of his neck “We want to know all about you.”

Less than a quarter of an hour later Veronica’s mother returned, a pained expression on her face, Miss Broadstrap followed close behind. By now William was almost a nervous wreck from the smothering effect of the two women.

“I think your mother requires some refreshment William.” Aunt Lavinia said noticing her sister’s face.

No one seemed inclined to correct Aunt Lavinia discarding the term ‘in-law’.  Less than an hour in the company of his new aunts had further reduced his capacity to protect his diminishing masculine reserves and he was quickly being submerged under their forceful personalities.

“Yes Aunt Lavinia.” William replied in the quiet, almost meek voice that Aunt Lavinia suggested he adopt as a mark of respect to his mother and other female family members .His hand had the slightest tremble as he poured the tea and adding the slice of lemon he knew she took with it.

“Thank you darling.” Mummy said, surprised by the lack of awkwardness which he usually displayed at afternoon tea “you are becoming quite the hostess.”

“William.” Aunt Lavinia prompted him.

“Thank you Mummy.” he responded.

“How sweet!” Mummy gushed.

William could see a smile form at the corner of Miss Broadstrap’s mouth and cringed inside.

Why is she smirking, I’m only trying to be polite? he said bitterly to himself.

“William has spent far too much time in coarse male company.” Aunt Daphne explained “We have been training the dear boy to be more gracious and genteel now that he will be spending his days in more refined and courteous female circles, isn’t that right William?”

“Yes Aunt Daphne.”

“From the moment Veronica introduced him to me  I knew he had wonderful potential.” Mummy said “He will make an ideal husband and son.”

“And nephew.” Aunt Daphne added as all three women smiled.

“Yes, dear boy,”Aunt Lavinia said “We would not be fulfilling our duties as aunts if we did not support and protect you.”

Miss Broadstrap’s smirk widened.

“Now girls.”Mummy said taking a sip of her tea and smoothing out an imaginary crease on her pant suit “Unfortunately I have some bad news.  Miss Jupon  of The House of Brides  has delivered several  of the gowns I have picked out for Veronica but unfortunately the young lady she had chosen to display them for us has fallen ill and cannot attend. So as we do not have anyone to model them I’m afraid we will have to cancel this afternoon’s bridal gown preview. I think we all know Veronica would prefer to wear something plain…

“Or even a pants suit.” Aunt Lavinia snorted sarcastically.

“Quite.” Mummy agreed clearly showing her displeasure.“But if we present her with a gown we all are thrilled about, I would dearly hope she will agree to wear it.”

“More hope than expectation.” Aunt Daphne sighed wearily. “She was always tomboy growing up.”

“And time is of the essence.” Aunt Lavina said injecting a note of urgency. “The wedding is only a few short months away and settling on the right dress could take weeks.”

“Such a pity.” Aunt Lavinia sighed.

Miss Broadstrap cleared her throat.

“If I may offer a suggestion, Madam?”she said.

“Please do Miss Broadstrap, we would welcome any option at this juncture.” Mummy answered.

“Master William is exactly the same height as Miss Veronica.” she said looking towards the young man sitting between his two new aunts “and Miss Veronica has such a boyish figure their frames are quite similar apart from the hips and with certain bridal gown designs such differences are easily disguised .”

“Are you suggesting Master William could model the gowns for us Miss Broadstrap?” Mummy asked as all four women turned their full attention on the young man.

“What a splendid idea!”  Aunt Lavinia exclaimed with delight.

“Yes Miss Broadstrap, a wonderful suggestion.” Aunt Daphne agreed “Not ideal, there are some slight differences however Veronica’s breasts are on the small side but we could always pad out his bosom, of course he would have to wear a bra.”

William sat motionless with a blank expression on his face unsure that he had heard this exchange correctly.

Did she just propose I should model a bridal gown? he said to himself No, that’s ridiculous I obviously misheard.

“And he is a little plumper than Veronica around the midriff.” Mummy observed, turning her focus to his torso.

Her sisters felt his stomach and nodded their agreement.

 “My fault I’m afraid.” his mother-in-law continued “I’ve been feeding him too well but I suspect one of my high-waisted girdles or perhaps an unforgiving corselette would quickly take care of that problem. It may be a little too tight for him but he is such a resilient boy I’m sure he won’t mind. ”

He was concentrating so much on trying to process this strange conversation that he never heard Aunt Daphne voice.

“Oh do come along William.” she said in an exasperated voice as she stood over him and addressed her sisters “Sometimes I worry about young men, they have such short attention spans.”

Aunt Lavinia slipped her arm under his and on the other side Aunt Daphne did the same.

His mother-in-law led the way as they ascended the wide staircase, the conversation centred on where Veronica had chosen for their honeymoon and how long the journey would be.

“The weather will be wonderful there this time of year.” Aunt Daphne said

“And it is such a romantic city.” Aunt Lavinia replied.

Perhaps Aunt Daphne is right I am having trouble focusing, he said to himself and not only that I’m hearing imaginary conversations as well.

Entering his mother-in-law’s large and opulent bedroom he noticed several large garment bags laid across the chairs and the large couch.

“Now I think these will be suitable.” Mummy said as she laid out a number of items on the bed’s burgundy red satin quilt.

“I think the satin panelled corselette would suit him better.” Aunt Daphne opined.

“I’m so not sure.” his  future mother-in-law replied holding up a formidable garment with dangling garters “I found this new high-line girdle very controlling.  A little bit uncomfortable at first but I’m sure he will get used to it.”

“Oh excellent I notice you also have a matching long line brassiere.” Aunt Lavina said picking up the brassiere and examining it. “This should fit him nicely and we can pad it out with some underwear to give him a similar bust line as Veronica.”

The fog finally lifted from William’s brain and the horror of what was being proposed hit him.

“I… you… I mean…”he babbled, sentences were forming in his brain but unable to reach his mouth in any coherent fashion.

“Now William.” Mummy said in an authoritative voice that he had come to know so well “we have agreed that time is of the essence and we need to choose a gown for the wedding before Veronica returns. Now please stop prevaricating, the sooner you get undressed the sooner we will be able to choose the right gown.”

The fog in his brain was now replaced with shock as Aunt Lavinia held the brassiere up to his chest.

“Yes I think it will fit nicely.” she said smiling at him as Aunt Daphne began to unbutton his shirt.

“I think we should start with the Duchesse satin ball gown.” Aunt Lavinia said “ Ivory is such a wonderful colour and suits his complexion perfectly.”

William whimpered as he felt the straps of the bra bite into his shoulders as Aunt Lavinia pulled the two clasps tightly across his back.”

“Oh do stop whining William, girls have to do this everyday.” she said brusquely as she began fixing the hooks into the eyelets.

“Once we have his girdle on he will begin to look like a real girl.” Aunt Daphne trilled as she led him to the bed to remove his pants.

“I’ll fetch the bouffant petticoat” Aunt Lavinia said.

“Oh I’m so excited.” Mummy blurted “Aren’t you William?”

As his two aunts began removing his pants his mouth opened but the protest formulated in his brain was unable to reach his mouth and only a low whine was heard.

“Yes I knew you would be.” Mummy said as she dangled the heavy girdle in front of him.

 

A Mutual Understanding- short(very)story with image

 

The story below was posted elsewhere previously, so some readers may have read it. For those who haven't hopefully you may enjoy it.

Carrie

A Mutual Understanding.

By

 

CarrieP

 

 

 

 

“I do hope you won’t be offended Caroline.” Amelia said, eyeing her friend in the mirror above the mantelpiece as she retouched her make-up, “But you appear to have a talent for engaging the most...shall I say ...unusual domestic servants.”

Caroline laughed lightly at her friend’s remark but before she could speak Amelia continued,

“I thought she was going to faint when I complimented her on her figure.”

“I was going to say odd.” Georgina, her other friend added somewhat distractedly, her concentration focused on adjusting the garters on her girdle. “Even with the current servant problem surely there was someone more suitable. The girl looks as if she’s frightened of her own shadow. I thought she was going to keel over when she opened the door to us. She legd were visibly trembling.”

“I recall your last girl seemed to be more of a dairy maid than a housemaid, such stout legs and she had a voice like a foghorn.” Amelia said as she put the finishing touches to her lipstick “Although I must say this one is far shapelier, she fits into her uniform much better, she’s obviously well girdled.”

“How very observant of you, darling.” Caroline replied somewhat sarcastically as she began fitting her earrings. “You always had an eye for a pleasing figure.”

“At least the girl is wearing the appropriate uniform.” Georgina answered with a smirk “Unlike some households I could mention. “

“That’s most unfair Georgina.” Amelia answered defensively “You know how difficult it is these days to get girls to wear a cap and apron as part of their uniform. They feel it beneath them to be properly attired the way a housemaid should. Our mothers would not tolerate such lax standards.”

“True.” her friend sighed with a slight weariness as she smoothed her sstockings.“But there was ample supply of servant girls in our mothers’ day and they had little difficulty acquiring domestics. I suppose we all have to make some compromises these days. Although, it seems Caroline’s new girl doesn’t seem to mind wearing a uniform. How did you manage it, darling?”

“I suppose you could call it luck.” Caroline admitted with a smile, turning her head to admire her ruby earrings in the mirror before ringing the servants’ bell. “I’ll tell you all about it later but we really do need to dress for dinner or we will be late.”

“Oh you are not going to fob us off that easily, darling.” Amelia said glancing at the clock “We have plenty of time, our gowns are laid out and our make-up is done.”

“Luck?” Georgina repeated, with a quizzical look.

 Before Caroline could answer the door frame creaked and a figure partially hidden by the door appeared, the face under a maid’s cap appeared startled at the sight of the three women in various stages of undress. 

“Oh do come in girl!” Georgina said impatiently “we’re not going to bite you.”

“Don’t frighten the girl, Georgina.” Amelia chided her friend before smiling at the obviously alarmed servant “Come in girl, we only want help dressing.”

A low whine drifted across the room.

Caroline moved to the door and eased the maid inside and she guided them both to the bed where her friends stood.

“No need to be nervous, my dear,” Amelia addressed the clearly anxious servant “your mistress tells us you have entered her service through luck.”

The maid’s gaze fell to the floor.

“Yes luck.” Caroline said softly taking her maid’s hands in hers. “Unfortunately, bad luck for you,  good luck for me. But there is no need to be ashamed.”

“Bad luck... good luck... ashamed...” Georgina blurted in an exasperated voice “Will you please tell us what is going on?”

“You see my new maid had a most unfortunate run of bad luck at the card table on a recent visit to a private club and was unable to meet the debt. It was even more unfortunate for him that it was Mother that the debt was owed to. However, to make a very long story short she did agree to accept the IOU.” Caroline explained to her friends as the maid’s hands began tugging in an agitated manner at the pristine starched white apron. 

“Ah...I see now.” Amelia said.

Georgina nodded her understanding and smiled sympathetically at the maid.

 “It culminated in quite a sizable figure which William was unable to pay in full. So he came to a mutual understanding with Mother, isn’t that right my dear?”

“ W...Will... William...did we hear you correctly, Caroline.” Amelia and Georgina exclaimed in unison as they moved closer to the increasingly red faced figure. Did you say... William?”

Caroline smiled and merely nodded. The maid’s face grew puce, and it was obvious that he desperately wanted to flee but Caroline had a firm grip of his wrist. The thought also ran through his mind, where would he run to?

“Caroline, you mean to tell us this creature is a male?” Georgina was the first to speak as she lifted placed a finger under the chin of the shamed-faced young man and lifted his head.

“Well, he was quite effeminate to begin with.” Caroline said “But yes I suppose anatomically, he is male.”

“But... his figure?” Amelia asked as her hands cupped his bosom.

“Soft artificial breast forms but as Mother has discovered, he does have potential in that area.” Caroline explained and as Georgina’s hands began exploring the maid’s waist, she added “As you correctly spotted, he is tightly girdled so his feminine shape is the result of rigid and sturdy foundations. Mother was most helpful in choosing these.”

“A male maid. How utterly delicious!” Georgina trilled, her voice quivering with obvious excitement as she continued to probe the young man with her piercing grey eyes and, much to the maid’s embarrassment, eager hands.

“I find this hard to believe Caroline.”  Amelia spoke quietly, her expression clearly indicated her incredulity, her eyes fixed on the figure in front of her. “I really must see for myself.”

“Your scepticism is understandable.” Caroline replied and gestured towards the maid.  By all means inspect him yourself.”

Georgina lifted the maid’s skirt to reveal a pink satin slip with a deep black lace hem.

“Very pretty.” Amelia said as she lifted the slip to reveal a white long- legged girdle which reached almost to the maid’s knees, a wide satin panel extended from the crotch to the top of the girdle just under the ribcage.

Apart a slight drooping of the shoulders and an almost inaudible sob, the object of their inspection remained perfectly still and quiet as the examination continued.

“He doesn’t seem to mind being inspected.”  Amelia asked, looking for a reaction.

“No, he is quite docile now.”Caroline confirmed her friend’s opinion. “Mother quickly put a stop to any of his masculine histrionics. I told him to expect the examination once I had told you of our arrangement.”

“I think you are trying to make fun of us Caroline.” Georgina interrupted, her hand moving over the satin covered pubic area. “It looks perfectly normal for a female, a bit fleshy perhaps but many girls have excess fatty tissue on their mons pubis. I can discern no disgusting male bulge.”

“Try underneath” Caroline helpfully suggested with a smile.

“Ah...yes” Amelia said as she located the object of her interest “ I can feel the little thing now, it’s actually twitching as I touch it. Georgina, you really must inspect this.” Amelia called out to her friend, her voice  brimming with excitement.

Georgina stood in front of him and looking him directly in the eyes, slipped her hand between his legs. He could no longer retrain himself and he began to sob,  his knees trembled as the women’s hands reached between his legs.

“Oh do stop blubbering.” Caroline admonished him “Or I will give you something to cry about.”

 “I can feel something, but it’s so small and well hidden, it’s barely discernible.” Georgina said, clearly surprised as her hand continued to stroke the almost negligible protuberance “But, it’s definitely nothing a woman would have.”

“He is doubly girdled to firmly secure the ghastly male organ in such a way that it ensures a smooth feminine outline.” Caroline explained. “Now that you have established my new maid’s sex can we now get dressed?”  Caroline said, gesturing her friends to retreat to allow her maid to compose himself.

“Well, when I said your maid was odd, I’d meant a little peculiar.” Georgina said, now gently examining the maid’s buttocks with her hand. “We really had no idea ‘she’ was a male.”

“Yes.” Amelia agreed “Granted, his gait is a little inelegant but we do have friends in our circle that are more ungainly.”

“And more masculine” Georgina volunteered “Take Maria Glostrop for example, next to her this girl...young man, I should say, seems like a ballerina.”

Georgina stood in front of the red faced maid whose head had dropped and a single tear had begun to trickle down his face. She placed her forefinger under his chin and raised his face to meet hers.

“Mmm...now that I look at you closely, I can see traces of masculinity...well, I suppose... of sorts.” she said “But your make-up and delicate features disguise this extremely well.

“Mother can take credit for that also.” Caroline said.

“Did I hear my name being mentioned?” A voice called out from the other side of the room. “Nothing bad I hope.”

A statuesque, matronly figure had silently entered and was making her way across the room. Georgina  and Amelia moved to her and she kissed both on either cheek.

“I see you have met our new maid.” she said impassively as she adjusted the apron straps of the maid to her satisfaction. Her brow furrowed slightly as she added in a more officious tone “Have I not told you girl, to ensure your apron straps are properly aligned.”

“Yes Madam.” The maid answered in a faltering voice and curtsied. “I’m sorry, Madam.”

“Oh my...did you see Georgina?” Amelia blurted, a new level of excitement injected into her voice.“He curtsies.”

“Oh my...how wonderful.” Georgina sighed with admiration.

“I take it he passed the test Caroline?” her mother said.

“Yes Mother.” her daughter answered. “The girls thought he was just an awkward, gauche girl, new to domestic service.”

“Quite an accurate description.”  the older woman laughed and addressed her maid with a stern expression “What are you William?”

“An awkward, gauche girl, Madam” he repeated without hesitation, his face betraying a combination of unease and shame.

“But I’m sure we will soon change that. Don’t you agree, dear boy?” Caroline’s mother asked, her voice softening.

“Yes Madam.” he replied immediately and obviously thought it best to curtsy for good measure, his eyes remained lowered, his growing discomfort quite evident as he performed the ignominious act.

 “It appears he is half way there.” Georgina sniggered “He had us fooled.”

“Mmm...perhaps.” Caroline’s mother mused as her eyes scanned the increasingly nervous in front of her.

“We thought the girl...a little nervous, bashful.” Amelia added her voice a mixture of surprise and curiosity, “ As we said awkward and gauche, but never once considered a uniformed housemaid to be male. He really does look the part, ungainly and a halting gait perhaps but I’m sure that can be corrected.”

It took several seconds before Caroline’s mother gathered her thoughts and spoke.

“I suppose I do have very high standards.” she said eventually and made a slight adjustment to his lace cap. “But perhaps you are right he doesn’t look entirely out of place and I suppose he has improved since he first entered service.”

As she fidgeted once more with his apron straps before  looking him in the eyes.

“Do you think you are making progress William?” she asked.

He was suddenly conscious of the quietness in the room and the four women’s eyes fixed on him. It was a dreadful question. A negative answer would surely mean greater hardship, hours of extra and relentless training, such a response would also no doubt embarrass this powerful matron in front of her daughter and her friends. It would mean she had failed.  He dreaded to think what that would mean. For far lesser offenses or breaches of her rules he had already experienced the humiliation of being draped over her knees with his uniform skirt raised and being lectured in the reasons for his punishment. The mandatory six strokes were less painful than the shame and mortification he felt.  It was something he wished to avoid at all costs.

He felt a lump in his throat, instantly recognising it as the male pride he was about to swallow.

“Oh yes, Madam.” he said eagerly, desperate to sound as convincing as possible.

He had learned the hard way that wallowing in self-pity because of his new and unfortunate circumstances would only make a bad situation worse.  It did not take long to discover eagerness and enthusiasm were rewarded or at the very least lessened the threat of being upbraided or even worse, a humiliating encounter with the hairbrush.

 “Good girl.” she beamed rewarding him with a smile and patting him tenderly on his cheek.

Georgina and Amelia clapped like excited circus seals, emitting squeals of approval and proclaimed their admiration in glowing terms for the older woman and her reluctant maidservant.

Inside, he cringed with mortification but knew if such a display of emotion was expressed in his face he would face the consequences.

A practiced smile formed around his lips and he could see that this was warmly received by his tutor. He took some small satisfaction  that he was beginning to understand how to please his new employer and equally importantly how to avoid a scolding.

“How long will he remain with you? Georgina asked.

William’s eyes suddenly lifted from the floor.

It was a question he himself had not dared to ask, having his debt being taken care of had initially been such an overwhelming relief he was afraid to ask too many questions. However, this comfort soon disappeared, being replaced by the shock and confusion when presented with the maid’s uniform he would have to wear. Perhaps now he would know the answer.

“Until I can replace him with a more traditional servant girl.” Caroline answered her friend.

On hearing this, William felt a wave of relief wash over him. The price he had to pay was humiliating in the extreme but now he knew that in a week, perhaps two, he would be free of this ghastly uniform and leave this house behind him.

The women pondered this for a moment as they continued to look at William with serious faces. For some inexplicable reason he suddenly felt anxious.

“So, probably six to nine months.” Georgina said.

“Oh, at the very least given the current shortage in female servants.” Amelia added.

“I was anticipating a year....” Caroline mother said as she positioned herself in front of her maid, “As we know, for some reason girls appear to be reluctant to consider life as a domestic servant as an employment option.”

“S...si...six...months...I ...but...”the young man stammered, clearly unable to comprehend what he had just heard.

“Are you listening you silly girl.” Caroline’s mother chided him as if speaking to a five year old. “It will probably be a year, which considering the amount of money you owe I consider you are getting off lightly.”

“A... a ...year...but I...” he babbled incoherently, clutching his skirts to stop his hands from shaking.

Rooted to the spot, he was barely able to comprehend what he had just heard. It only took a split second to weigh up his options. Fleeing the house, dressed in a housemaid’s uniform and with a sizable debt owing, was not a choice he cared to make.

As he was doing this, Caroline’s mother waved away his feeble attempt at protest.

“I’m not sure you have time to spend in idle chit chat with your social superiors, my girl.” Her voice was soft but laced with  an unmistakable authority, her forehead furrowed slightly.

He recognised the signs and felt a tingle in his spine as he perceived a nascent irritation in her face.  He had come to realise her mood was greatly enhanced by obedience and subservience.  Whatever chance he had of pleading his case when she was pleased with his performance, he would have little prospect of success if he displeased her.

“I will inspect my bedroom in ten minutes.” Caroline’s mother interrupted his thoughts “I would like to show the ladies how well trained you are after only a few days under my supervision.”

“William!... are you listening to your mistress?” Georgina snapped.

 The word ‘mistress’ seemed to hang in the air like a spectre before enveloping him in yet another layer of humiliation. At that moment he caught sight of the primly uniformed maid in the large mirror, an elegantly dressed society matron, perched on four inch heels looking down on him, hair stiffly permed, her figure discretely suggesting firm foundations garments.  However much he wished he could deny it, there was absolutely no doubt that ‘mistress’ accurately described the woman’s relationship to him.

His heart sank.

His brain immediately pictured her bedroom and a rising panic began to take hold. His list of tasks flashed before his eyes.

Had he made her bed properly? Had he folded her nightgown and peignoir in the way she had instructed? Had he separated her girdles and corselettes and arranged them by colour and style? Had he ensured her shoes were organised by heel height? There were so many things she had instructed him to do, how could he possibly remember them all?

He felt a tiny bead of sweat form on his forehead, he  tried to reassure himself he had carried out her orders to the letter but there remained this lingering, nagging doubt that he had forgotten something and quickly wanted to leave to double check.

“Yes Madam...I’m sorry Madam.” he blurted and noticing the slightly irritated look on her face. He knew instantly what would please her.

He curtsied.

The acknowledgement of her authority was, as he had hoped, instant and once more he was rewarded with a smile.

“Yes William, I think you will make an excellent maidservant.” she smiled, her disposition was now quite pleasant and good-natured.

He feigned a demure expression and lowered his eyes respectfully.

“Once you are fully trained, of course.” she added, still holding his gaze, searching  for the slightest hint of a challenge to her assessment.

The sight of her hairbrush loomed large in his mind’s eye and he knew this time there would be an audience to witness his humiliation.

“Yes Madam, of course Madam.” he blurted

“Good, I am so glad you understand.” she answered with another smile as she lowered herself onto the sofa. “You may go now.”

 “Thank you Madam.” he replied and curtsied once more.

As he reached the door her voice called out,

“Don’t forget William, my bedroom in ten minutes.”

 An involuntary and barely audible whine escaped from his mouth as her eyes locked on his.

 “I sincerely hope everything will be in order.” she said as she patted her lap and smiled at him.

Underneath his light make-up his face paled as he made his way up the stairs to her bedroom.

Just write

Rather than keep on playing with generative AI tools, I thought I'd take a hint from ChatGPT and just write. Of course, there are robots behind the human appearance who churn out the text, not actual humans burdened with writers' blocks' and endless deliberations on how to execute a story, a scene, a dialogue, a statement. Still, I admire the ease of ChatGPT's writings. It makes it seem so effortless. Couple of lines of dialogue to outline the gist of the story and that's it, move on to the next scene. Maybe that robs the work of the richness of the details, but it does keep the story moving, so that's what I tried in this little piece.

Is it more fun to write the story yourself, rather than feed prompts into the machine and wait excitedly for the output? Is it more rewarding to put in the work yourself, even though the robots could get you five different stories in the same time? I don't know. I guess that's what it felt like at that moment. Maybe that's the future, do for the sake of doing, knowing that the result won't stand a chance competing with the state of art. We still have chess competitions for humans, after all.

ChatGPT

 I have a new drug, and it's called ChatGPT. If I thought that browsing - and occasionally shopping from - 2nd hand clothes sites was bad, this is is way, way worse.

Have you ever tried using generative AI to generate TG fiction? For a long time, I haven't, because ChatGPT required a phone number to register, and I didn't want to tie my actual phone number to these sick, depraved stuff I post on the internet myself ;) Moreover, I learned, too, of the environmental cost of running these AI models, which is another thing that turns me away from using them when not absolutely necessary.

Last week, though, I realised that you can now login to ChatGPT with an email address alone, and, boy oh boy, did I start to ignore the environmental aspect of it.

For me, this is a tremendous time black hole, I've lost hours, including more than half a night's sleep, feeding synopses into ChatGPT, asking it to write stories. I did ask for a couple illustrations, too, but I don't do that anymore because, a) it takes a really long time, b) I can't ignore the environmental aspect on that one and mainly c) it rips off honest-working artists. The stories are less of a problem in that regard, since being a member of the guild here, I am sort of okaying the procedure.

I was astonished with the ease the AI spews out the story, based on a short prompt. Of course, as many of you might have found yourselves, as soon as it detects too much femdom, it refuses to cooperate, but it's not too difficult to reframe the story setting to include just enough consent for it to continue (it's cool, the therapist makes the husband crossdress because she wants to help him, and deep down, the husband knows it's for his own good.) The stories are rather short and full of open discussion about the emotion of the characters, which sort of kills the forced fem vibe, at the same time, I cannot help but marvel how craftfully some of the dialogues are done, or at the ease of some passages (the same passages that have taken me hours and several attempts, mind you). In the end, I don't even enjoy reading those stories so much as I enjoy crafting the story synopses, feeding them into the machine and getting human-like feedback. As I've mentioned, hours pass easily, especially since it's a seemingly low-investment activity - let's just ask it to make something of this basic premise, but then hey how about we make it like this or we make it like that...

Below, I'm posting a story I managed to write by myself, before I got swallowed by the erotic use of generative AI. I got the inspiration for it when I was putting on makeup in the morning. That's also another fun thing I've picked up, but unlike other fun things, it rarely takes me more than 10 minutes a pop. The results are quite sobering, to say the least. Like many Bea's characters, I have always been of gentle features. Back when I still had hair, and wore it long, people would mistake me for a girl. But the makeup and the wig really bring out the masculine in my face. My delicate thin chin seems unmistakably angular and the beard, that does not seem to be able to grow beyond a half-translucent fuzz when unshaven for weeks, stands out as the shadow from under my foundation and powder, no matter how closely I shave... But I like applying it, none the less. For the occasional morning I get to be home alone, it's just the perfect form of good, clean fun.

Sleepover

It's probably fair to say that a good deal of my art has been inspired by Bea, either directly or indirectly, seeing that his fiction helped shape my interest in the feminization genre, plus I've done a small number of drawings based on specific stories of his.  Something I’ve never mentioned before is that I’ve even entertained the notion of choosing one of his stories to turn into a comic.  I’m always thinking about how I’d like to do more sequential artwork, and basing a comic on Bea’s writing could be a way of further experimenting with that artform while simultaneously paying tribute to an author whose work had an impact on me.  Also, to be frank, since I’m not adept at making up stories on my own, it feels a lot easier to “borrow” a plot from elsewhere.  It’s a little too late to ask Bea for his permission, but I think he probably wouldn’t have objected. 

Bea's “Sleepover” is a story that once seemed to me like a suitable candidate for a comic adaptation.  Other than it standing out in my mind for some reason, it’s short enough that such a project didn’t feel too insurmountable.  A few years ago, I actually got as far as scripting out the first few pages and gathering some art references, though all that was lost when my old laptop died, and I sort of gave up on the idea after that.

I once told Bea about how someone from Lustomic had approached me about doing a comic for their site, but Bea expressed skepticism that I was capable of completing a project that required that level of commitment.  I can only suppose that he based that opinion on the one time he commissioned me to do a handful of illustrations, during which it might not have escaped his notice that I'm not the fastest of artists.  Seeing that I never followed through on that Lustomic thing, his dim assessment may not have been entirely wrong.  I did eventually complete Help Wanted, that comic I did in collaboration with James Craft for Sick Puppy Press, which was about forty pages, though it took forever for me to draw and it’s somewhat of a miracle that it got finished at all, partly due to the aforementioned failure of my laptop, but also because I’m prone to getting into slumps.  

In my defense, producing the artwork for an entire comic single-handedly was grueling work, especially when I was determined to not skimp on quality.  If I ever do another comic project, I may need to find a way to simplify the process to make it a more manageable task.  Like an idiot, I'd told the person from Lustomic that I estimated I could do a twenty page comic in a month's time, but they politely pointed out that that was most likely an unrealistic goal, as I discovered for myself when I did Help Wanted (Still available from sixpacksite.com where you can purchase part one and part two individually or as one complete volume!)  

Looking back, I suddenly recall that part of the reason things didn't go anywhere with Lustomic, other than my laziness, is because they wanted to see a script before I did anything else, and as I already pointed out, making up stories is not really my strong suit, besides which, I am incredibly shy and I felt embarrassed at the thought of having to compose a narrative that was specifically erotic in nature and then submit it to someone. 

“Sleepover” may not be the ideal Bea story to center a comic around anyway.  For one thing, there may not be enough focus on feminization to satisfy some.  It might even seem as if it ends just as it's getting good.  If I had turned it into a comic, I would definitely have changed a few details.  Also, while this story involves a type of forced feminization scenario I happen to like, I wonder if it sort of hits a little differently today when bigoted politicians and influencers, etc. are fearmongering about the "transing" of the youth, though I'm sure Bea couldn't have predicted any of that when he wrote this decades ago and was presumably not thinking about anything other than producing an appealing fantasy.  Maybe I'm overthinking things, as usual.  All that aside, I still think it’s not a bad little story, but I’ll let you be the judge.  

Is there a particular story you’d be interested in seeing turned into a comic?  Or would I be better off attempting to develop my own stories instead of ripping-off someone else’s?  Or should I just stick to standalone drawings?

 

Sleepover 

By Bea

"Philip!  Would you just take your pills!  How do you ever expect to grow up to be big and strong like your sister if you don't do as I tell you?"

"But Doris?  I've been taking them for MONTHS now and I swear that they're not doing me any good!"  I looked up at her and felt my eyes fill with tears.

"Would you take a gander at THAT?"  Dallas snorted.  "I think Philippa is going to cry – again mom!  Damn sissy!"

My stepmother and step sister looked at me mockingly.  My dad was dead for some time and I seemed to have fallen under their control more and more.  Although Dallas – my sister, was about the same size as me, there was no doubt as to me being the weakest - and she bullied me unmercifully, both physically and mentally.  Doris, my stepmother, pretended to treat us both equally, but that was total bullshit.  Dallas could do no wrong – and I could do nothing right.

"But Doris!  These pills are goddamn dumb!  I'm NOT getting any stronger and. ."

Dallas punched me lightly on the shoulder.  It hurt and I started to cry.  This stopped my talking for enough time for her to interrupt.

"That's another thing mom!  Philippa's language is NOT nice!  Far too many goddamn cuss words!  And she shows NO respect for you at all mom!"

I gawped at her nonsense!  She swore ALL the time!  And I'd been calling my stepmother 'Doris' for years!

To my amazement, Doris nodded agreeably.  "She's right you know, Philip!  Your language has become deplorable!  Not nice at all!  On top of that?  I think you should call me 'Mummy' all the time now.  It sounds MUCH nicer!"

"But Doris!  She keeps calling me by a girl's name! Swears ALL the time  and - oooh oooh oooh!"  I started to cry in earnest as Dallas really punched me on the upper arm.

"WHAT did mom tell you to call her from now on?" She was snarling.

I hugged my sore arm.  "Mummy?"

"That's a good little girl!  Now you can say what you were going to say!"

I kept a careful look on Dallas as I spoke again.

"But mummy? Dallas swears ALL the time!  It’s not FAIR!"

Doris shook her head. "Honestly Philip!  Just listen to yourself!  Whining and crying like a girl!  It's no wonder that Dallas teases you a little."  She smiled fondly at her daughter before continuing.  "She's just a natural tomboy.  Very HARD to control. On the other hand, I've got high hopes for you.  You're sweet and gentle.  Nice to have around the house.  Nice company for your mummy."

I looked at her helplessly. Some months before, I had been stupid enough to let Dallas taunt me into a physical wrestling match, which she'd won easily.  Doris had found us, me pinned to the floor by Dallas's knees while she straddled me and mocked me for being such a sissy.

Doris had pretended that this type of situation couldn't be allowed to go on.  Had gotten some 'strength' diet from somewhere or someone.  Swore that the pills would increase my muscle power and strength.  I wasn't too sure. For the first few weeks, maybe a month, I'd believed her, but I'd gradually felt that I was getting weaker.  When I'd brought this to her attention, she'd simply increased the amount of pills – and I gradually got weaker and weaker.  Started to cry a lot – which made Dallas openly refer to me as Philippa and tease me even further.  I was getting suspicious looking swellings on my breasts and they were getting awfully tender.

At this point though, Dallas raised my hopes.  She looked at her mom.  "You know mom?  I don't think those pills ARE doing Philippa any good."

Doris raised her eyebrows in surprise.  "You don't?"

"No.  Obviously, he needs more!  I'll swear he's turning into a little girl more and more. Even embarrasses me at school!"

"I don't want any more, mummy?  Please?"  I said plaintively.

She reacted immediately.  "Honestly Philip!  I'll increase your dosage tomorrow. I wish you'd SEE that your big sister only has your best interests at heart.  She just commented the other day how wonderful you were!"

I looked at her in astonishment.   "That was the week end I had to stay in the house and clean up her room and do HER chores!"

"Yes!"  she enthused.  "And you did the housework SO well!"

"Yah!  Looked SO cute in the pretty little apron you had for him!"  Dallas laughed.  "But mom?  I wish you'd make him behave at school!"

We were both about to graduate from high school – a thing that made me very glad because Dallas was making my life miserable there as well – constantly teasing me and making me look small.  My dad had bought me a motor cycle – a small one – before he died, but somehow I seemed to have lost the little muscle power to even drive it – whereas Dallas could handle it easily. So I suffered the ignominy of having to ride pillion behind my sister while she drove us both to school – and oh – the mocking glances she'd shoot my way as she often roared off once she had dropped me.  You see, her mother had dictated in no uncertain terms that Dallas MUST drive slowly, when I was behind her.  Too much speed might be dangerous for me.

Naturally, she made this well known to all the girls – and they all just loved to tease me.  The boys would have as well, but Dallas and her tough friends had formed a kind of gang and they let it be known that they were 'protecting' me – so I was held in contempt by the tough boys, while even the weaker ones thought it best to leave me alone, and so my only company other than my only friend Andrew – who was young brother to one of Dallas's gang – were little feminine girls.  I really didn't want their company, but couldn't seem to avoid them as they seemed to make a point of clustering about me.  Accordingly, I spent much of my last year in school in the company of girls – another reason I was taunted by Dallas and put on my special diet by her mom.

 

Doris spoke to me.  "Yes Philip! Dallas DOES have a point you know!  How can you expect Dallas to treat you like a boy when you seem to hang out with little girls every time I pass the school.  Even wear pretty aprons to do the housework here.  I can SEE why she thinks that you're girlish."

"But Doris!" I started to complain, forgetting what I'd been told.

Then my sister actually spanked me!  Just grabbed me and dragged me to a close chair.  Put me over her knees and without any formalities, started to spank me, despite my cries and entreaties.  I heard Doris – mummy – make some weak complaint that she shouldn't – be spanking her brother – it probably wasn't right - but it didn't stop Dallas. While she spanked me she made sure that I agreed that Doris should be 'Mummy' from that moment on and that, yes, I deserved to be spanked for being naughty.  When she finally let me get to my feet, mummy then put salt in the wound by looking at me accusingly.

"I do wish you'd stop aggravating your sister!  I think you should say that you're sorry!"

My face stained with tears, I humbly faced Dallas and said how sorry I was for upsetting her.  She pointed to the carpet a foot or so in front of her.  "Stand here!"  She said.

Obediently, I went and stood.  Looked at her softly and weakly.

"You going to be a good little Philippa from now on?"  She asked me sternly.

"Yes Dallas."

"SAY IT!"

"I'll be a good little Philippa from now on!"

"No more unladylike language?"

"No Dallas.  I'll talk nicely."

"Better!  Now I have that party tonight.  Why don't you go and make sure my room is cleaned out, huh?"

I blinked.  "But I cleaned your room out earlier on Dallas.  Honest!  I knew you were having a sleepover with your friends tonight and I did it early!  Andrew's supposed to be coming over.  I'm to stay with him  . . ."

"Philippa!  Will you stop annoying your sister?  For goodness sake! I can understand why she needs to spank you.  Go and put your apron on and stop being naughty!"  Mummy was glaring at me.

I had managed to stop crying. Now I started again. "Mummy?  I'm not a girl!"

She looked at me tauntingly.  "Well!  I don't think you can blame me for forgetting you're a boy, can you?  Crying all the time when Dallas gives you a little love tap.  Dithering all the time when she tells you that her room needs cleaning! If you're going to act like a soft little girl, I think you should see that people will treat you like one!"

Dallas broke in.  "Philippa?  You're aggravating mom now!  Honestly!  Do you WANT another spanking?  Is that it?"  Dallas was grinning at her mother now, but pretending to be annoyed with me.

"Please don't Dallas. I'm sorry." I said, almost weeping with fright.

"Honestly!  He's more and more like a girl!  Wait a minute!"  Mummy grinned back sardonically at her daughter. "I have an idea!"  She left the room.

I stood there helplessly, with Dallas smirking at me.  A few seconds later, mummy came back with a diaphanous apron.  "Here!" she said, slipping it over my head. "A lot of girls would be jealous at seeing you in a lovely apron like this, would want one for themselves."

Dallas looked disappointed.  "But that's the apron he's been wearing mom.  What idea was it you had?"

"Wait until I get the ties all in a pretty bow!" Mummy said. Doing exactly that as she tied me in.  Then she spoke to me.

"You've been a naughty little girl – haven't you Philippa?"

I knew when I was licked.  "Yes mummy."

"And what do naughty little girls do to show that they are sorry?"

I looked at her confused.  "I'm sorry mummy.  I don't know."

"They curtsey and apologize prettily.  Isn't that what they do, Dallas?"

My sister grinned with the realization of my further shame.  "Yes!  Never thought of that mom.  Bet that Philippa will curtsey as nicely as we could wish!"

There was nothing left for me to do.  It took a little while for me to learn how to curtsey properly, but finally I curtsied both women in turn, my apron held in both hands as I lisped an apology.  Finally, they relented and let me go to do my chores.

I say that they were my chores but in all honesty, they were more like Dallas's and mummy's tasks – things that they had sometimes hired a young girl to do but now, I could see with a sinking heart that they were to become mine and I wondered how much spare time I would have, but I knew better to complain as I did laundry and beds and vacuumed floors.  Nervously, I kept eying the clock.  Andrew was coming by in his car to pick me up and yet I still had my packing to do and neither of the women would give me any time to myself. I'd just finish one task, when they'd think up another and the day was passing.  To make things worse, Dallas made me curtsey her all the time now.

Mummy made dinner, but I had to tidy up.  I finally thought I had time to pack when Dallas gave me something else to do.  Make some sewing repairs to her lingerie then iron it.  Naturally, I had to start it immediately.

I wanted to cry again.  It was far too much for me to finish quickly – and then her friends started to come by for her sleepover.  Both mummy and Dallas giggled when they made me answer the door in my apron – then "in fun" asked me to greet the guests with pretty curtseys.  She had two type of friends.  The rough, tough, ones like her and the soft, clingy, girls who fluttered around the tougher ones.  The tough ones sneered at the sissy.  The girly ones all giggled and said how cute I was.  They all looked askance as Dallas would send me back to sew her lingerie, then iron it.  She made a great show of examining everything I did.

Then one of the girly girls said that my fingernails looked nice – but certainly not suitable for fine lingerie.  Dallas, mummy, and her tough friends all laughed as the feminine girls all crowded around me, then filed and polished my nails a deep crimson, despite my weak attempts to break away.

Now, I was being openly addressed as Philippa – the sissy - with Dallas 'suggesting' that – maybe – I should wear a dress!  One of the girly-girls had called to say she couldn't make it and one of her 'tougher' friends wanted a dance partner.  Wouldn't I be the PERFECT fill in – if I was just dressed properly?

Then Mummy broke in. "Remember that pink party dress I bought for you – and you didn't like it – said it was TOO feminine, and they wouldn't take it back because I bought it on sale?  I bet that Philippa is almost a perfect fit!"

"Please mummy?" I pleaded.

"Would you just listen to HER?" She giggled. "A grown boy objecting to wearing a pretty dress, because he doesn't have the proper lingerie?"  She smiled at me.  "I'll just bet that Dallas wouldn't object to lending you some of hers!  After all – you'd be doing HER a favor!"

The tough girls all laughed at this then turned me over to the girly girls.  A little while later, I was introduced back, now in a frilly pink party dress, with a peroxide wig and fully made up.  They even mocked at my antics in the high heeled shoes I wore.  Agreed that there was no way that you could EVER tell that I was a boy and took a great delight in lifting my crinolines to show off my satin panties and stockings.

I heard the door bell chiming but was being danced by Dallas's friend at the time and, as no one seemed to expect me to answer the door, stayed in the embrace of my partner.

Then, mummy was there – with Andrew.  "Philippa?"  She called out.  "Andrew, your date for the night is here for you to go and stay at his place.  You ready?"

I saw Andrew look at me in my dress.  Held in the arms of a tough girl, her hand up under my dress, and my lipstick and makeup all smeared from my being kissed. I saw the horror in his eyes and the wonder at how he could get out of this feminine mess.  Knew what I had to do.

"I'm sorry Andrew."  I managed weakly.  "Dallas asked if I would help out with the party and I hated to deny her.

"That's okay!" He gulped.  "Gotta go!"

"Wouldn't you like to stay?" Mummy cooed.  "I'm sure that Dallas wouldn't mind having another boy at her party?"

"Yeah!"  Dallas laughed.  "Maybe you'd like to dance with Philippa?  Or maybe join her in a nice dress?"

"Aaaargh!"  Andrew let out a garbled noise.  "I HAVE to go!  See you Philip!"

"PHILIPPA!" Mummy corrected him.  "That's his name now.  Philippa has been SO nice.  Going to stay and keep ME company after high school while that old tomboy of mine Dallas, goes off to college.  Isn't that nice?  But if you're SURE you don't want to stay?  Dallas has got some lovely nightwear for Philippa, and I'm SURE she wouldn't mind sharing?"

She laughed uproariously as Andrew pulled out of her grasp and fled out of the door.  Smiled at me. "Somehow?  Boys don't seem to like being treated like girls.  But YOU don't mind – do you Philippa? Just wait until you see the gorgeous nightgown that Dallas has for you when you sleepover with her and the other girls!"

"Yessssss!" Dallas laughed.

 

 

The End