Swiss Miss Sissy, Chapter 29

 by Bambi

Chapter 29: The fiend. Cheryl becomes acquainted with her monitor

 

IMPORTANT: This chapter is dark, violent and shows abuse that could be considered unsettling, and intentionally so because every story needs a dreadful villain that is an actual and terrible threat to the safety of the heroine...

Crime and Punishment - Story with Image

 

It's nine years today since Bea departed but he still lives on through this blog.

I think he would be both surprised and gratified.

I'm just grateful that I got to know him for a few years before he left us.

Below is an old story that has been posted elsewhere  so some of you may have read it, those of you that haven't I hope you enjoy it.

Carrie

Crime and Punishment

by

CarrieP

 

 

 

The sound of the door bell disturbed the quietness of the hallway and penetrated the heavy oak door of the dark wood paneled library. Cecily Wareham looked up from her book and took notice of the clock.

 

Very impressive she said to herself. Almost exactly to the minute.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Chief Inspector paused briefly before continuing,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well most of it.” Miss Wareham answered.

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

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

“And your movements in the afternoon, Madam?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 He nodded sheepishly and lowered his eyes.

“Well is your mistress correct, boy?”

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

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

“That was so amusing Florence.” she laughed softly

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Florence, you may sit between us.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Chief Inspector nodded empathetically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Become aroused!” Miss Wareham interrupted helpfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Momentary lapse...” she said helpfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Miss Wareham continued, her tone becoming slightly irritable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looked anxiously to Miss Wareham.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Epilogue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lady Mantell smiled but said nothing.

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

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

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

The policewoman  looked slightly puzzled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She looked at her maid who was becoming increasingly anxious.

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

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

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

She then addressed the maid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Chief Inspector could not take her eyes from him.

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

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

“Probably a few months.” she answered.

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

The three women looked at him.

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

The young man winced and fidgeted at his apron.

“Yes Madam.” he replied and curtsied.

Petticoat Punishment Art

This is a drawing I did a few months ago for Carole Jean of the Petticoat Punishment Art site.  Carole Jean contacted me earlier this year via deviantART looking for a particular drawing of mine.  After I provided a link to the pic in question, I took the opportunity to say that I'd long thought about doing my own take on the Puyal painting of the petticoated boy sitting on a couch reading a book which is on the PPA homepage, having seen a few other artists do their own versions of that pic.  

That conversation inspired me to finally sit down and actually draw this pic.  I think the conversation may have inspired Carole Jean as well, because I saw that shortly afterward, they made a post offering a free download of a book from the PPA site to anyone else who also did their own version of the couch boy image.  I still haven't gotten around to asking Carole Jean for anything, though. For one, I can't make up my mind what I want.  Besides, I mainly did this for the hell of it and not because I needed a reward.  

Just to show how long I've thought about doing this drawing, for over a decade, I've been hanging onto a discarded American Girl Doll catalog I once found at the library just because it had a cover image that I thought might someday use as a reference for the pic I had in mind (though I ended up not even using it after all).

Two short scenes

 Dear readers,

here are two short snippets related to the same story line, that I have managed to write recently. It's not the length of the story I was hoping for, but seeing how little time I have for such things lately, I'm just pleased I managed to write something with a beginning and an end in a reasonable amount of time. Though to get here, I did have to plow through the writing, which shows in the style, I guess.

As a heads up to those who aren't into this, the story does include both the father and the son, as well as another male character. Though mostly still nothing outside what we've read in Bea's stories, mind you. There's a theme to the story that I've dealt with before and I'll probably keep revisiting, at least until I manage to get it right. But for now, here are these two snippets.

Petticoat

As per SissyHousewife's suggestion, I bought a petticoat to plump up my new yellow dress. After discovering the used clothes markets, all sorts of previously unattainable clothes are suddenly at my disposal at considerably lower prices than on amazon.

The petticoat has, to me, always been the epitome of femininity in ladies' clothes because it takes their very essence - the skirt - and pushes it to the maximum by adding - from today's point of view - simply impractical amounts of volume and circumference to it. The petticoat has also been the epitome of unattainable clothes because the women in my life whose clothes I would dress up in wore, well, normal clothes. I don't mean to disparage them by no means, and I am very grateful to the services they - I can only hope - unwittingly provided to me, but I was still missing those exciting items that I would read, and later also wrote about. Stockings, garter belts, corsets, silky nightgowns and, of course, petticoats. The closest I could get to a petticoat was putting on all the skirts at my disposal at once. Great fun, actually, but it made the tidying up a bit tedious.

After starting buying my own clothes, I was also confined to the "normal" spectrum for while. Gradually, though, I started getting all of the kinky stuff, too. I had been toying with the idea of buying a petticoat for a while, but SissyHousewife's comment, and the newfound supply on the 2nd hand market made me finally pull the trigger last week, and, after some hiccups, the item finally arrived.

My first thought as I pulled it out of the envelope was that it was nowhere near stiff enough, but my disappointment lasted only until I tried it on under the yellow dress. While it is indeed not as stiff as I had hoped it would be, it does add considerable volume to the skirt of the dress, and makes it impossible to smooth it under my thighs as I sit down so that it now flares out around me. I guess just because it's not of cartoonish french maid proportions, it's still nice to wear.

I hope that you too, dear readers, have some or other such little something that brings a little fluff in your skirts and a little nice in your lives.

Asset Management - Story with image

 Thinking of Bea lately so thought I'd better post something.

This is an old story and I've posted it elsewhere, so some readers may have seen it before.

I haven't re-read it so there may be some typos, grammatical errors etc- so apologies in advance.

Take care

Carrie

Asset Management

By

Carrie P

 

 

“This is so hideous, truly dreadful. And it’s only getting worse. What on earth am I going  to do?” he said, the agitation and emotion clearly evident on his face as he stood in front of the full length mirror.

“I do wish you would not upset yourself, Phillip.” Lucinda said gently. “You are beginning to sound like a hysterical schoolgirl.”

“Of course I’m upset.” he squealed and suddenly realised and not for the first time recently the pitch of his voice had become a tad higher than he would have liked.

Although it was probably the least of his problems it was however another new and unwelcome characteristic he had struggled to control and only served to emphasise the gradual yet pronounced erosion of his once rational  and well balanced personality.

Frustration quickly changed to despair and his bottom lip began to quiver.

Lucinda smiled patiently and knew it would not be long before the weeping would begin.

“But… it’s so…”he began to blubber unable to finish the sentence.

His fiancée moved closer and consoled him.

“Unfair.” she suggested softly “Yes I know, darling. Now why don’t you have a good cry, you know it will make you feel so much better.”

“Y… yes...”he agreed, trying manfully to resist the inevitable but failed a usual as the first big fat tear rolled down his cheek “So unfair.”

“Of course it is.” Lucinda sympathised handing him a dainty lace handkerchief as the single tear quickly became a steady rivulet down his cheeks. “But Mother is so fond of you and she did warn you of the dangers.”

As he dabbed the tears a puzzled look came over his face, he wasn’t quite sure this was how he remembered events.

“Yes…but…she didn’t…”he tried to challenge her account but was immediately interrupted.

“Now Phillip, you cannot hold Mummy responsible.” Lucinda said softly yet with a tinge of sternness he had come to be wary of. “You really must be accountable for your own decisions. Now I do hope you are not tyring to say Mummy misled or attempted to deceive you?”

“Well… no… it’s just…”he stumbled but Lucinda quickly interrupted him.

“Mummy is extremely experienced in these matters and was most insistent that you should not exceed the dosage.” she declared her voice now evolving into a more strident, almost threatening tone “After all you were the one who approached her to try to improve your physique. ”

He was forced to concede there was a grain of truth in this but only to the extent that her mother was constantly alluding, and in a most uncomplimentary manner, to his lack of a classic manly build or at least her idea of it. To quell her criticism he eventually agreed to take part in the various exercise programs including of yoga and Pilates at the exclusive health spa she and her friends attended. To his surprise he found it enjoyable and also had  to admit her friends were most friendly and very supportive and treated him like… well… like one of the “girls” as many middle aged matrons tend to refer to themselves. He also had to acknowledge that the massages, aromatherapies, facials, pedicures to mention only a few of the treatments he had with the girls were incredibly relaxing and had a wonderfully calming effect on him. So when his new friends and his future mother-in-law eagerly suggested he avail of a new organic supplement that was proven to improve one’s physical appearance as well as one’s skin and hair he felt it would be rude to the girls to refuse.

Now looking down at the two heavy large fleshy mounds with their exquisite areolas protruding from his chest, he could not stop himself from crying. His decision to follow their advice was something he now bitterly regretted.

Since these two perfectly formed female breasts had first appeared as small pert orbs over the last several days he had made his anxieties known to both Lucinda and her mother but to no avail. They banished his concerns as neurotic and overwrought and refused to allow him to seek medical advice on the grounds that this was surely just a temporary physical reaction and they were extremely confident the offending glands would soon reduce in size before disappearing altogether. But to his horror and consternation they had grown to alarming proportions, well at least for a male. Up to this point he was able to disguise these unwelcome protrusions by binding them with wide bandages and wearing loose fitting shirts but their further enlargement overnight had now made those measures quite pointless.  And if that wasn’t bad enough the arrival of these ghastly mummeries was also accompanied by a small but slightly noticeable weight gain almost entirely centred on his derrière which had now taken on quite a plump aspect. As these dreadful events unfolded he fully expected his future mother-in-law to become even more disparaging about the unwanted and unnatural development that was taking place to his body. However it was quite the opposite, she became extremely sympathetic and very supportive and in a sense almost protective.

Lucinda interrupted his train of thought as she took his hands in hers.

“Surely you must know Mummy only has your best interests at heart.”

Of course he could not deny her mother’s attitude towards him had softened since he had joined her and the girls at the spa and although she was undoubtedly a little overbearing and bossy insisting on adherence to various petty house rules which irked and sometimes embarrassed him. However to be fair and to her credit  her generosity was not in doubt as evinced by the gold Rolex he wore even if he considered this particular neat watch looked more like a ladies model rather than a man’s.

As Lucinda gazed at him with a look of calm assurance, a slight doubt entered his mind and he began to question his recollection of events.

Maybe it wasn’t completely her fault he silently reappraised his situation. Maybe…maybe…I…

He knew from experience the look on Lucinda’s face would only soften with agreement.

“Yes… yes of course.” he eventually replied, his memory of the episode less certain now.

“Now let’s not argue.” Lucinda said as if reading his mind “It’s not the end of the world. Neither Mummy nor I think you are any less a man because of it.”

Her smile reassured him and as she opened her arms he stepped forward into her embrace.

The sensation of his heavy breasts pressing against Lucinda’s slightly smaller bosom was extremely pleasant and suddenly and to his embarrassment his nipples began to protrude.  It did not go unnoticed by his fiancée.

“Phillip!” Lucinda gasped “You’re becoming… excited.”

“I…ah…I don’t…”he mumbled ashamed by this display of feminine arousal.

“Ahem!” Lucinda’s mother announced her arrival with a gentle knock at the open door and stepping inside her eyes were drawn to the offending nipples, she quietly closed the door behind her. “Oh dear I was afraid of this Lucinda.”

Phillip, blushing bright red automatically raised his hands to cover the large glands before quickly moving to pick up the satin dressing gown lying on the bed

“I think yours are slightly  too small darling, I suppose we really  should have done this sooner. We had better go to my bedroom.” she said to Lucinda as Phillip  slipping into the robe quickly made himself decent.

She took Phillip’s hand and led him to the door followed by Lucinda.

“Come along Phillip.”

He was in the corridor and just reaching her bedroom door when he finally found his voice.

“I…I… don’t understand?” he blurted.

“Yes I know dear.” she said ignoring his question as she opened the door and in a voice that was more of a command than a request she added “Now sit at my dressing table, like a good boy.”

“Please Mrs…”he began but immediately became aware of a vexed look descending over her handsome face.

It was an explicit and unmistakable reminder of one of her more humiliating rules and now with such embarrassment attached to him physically and emotionally he was in no position to enter into an argument.

“Yes… Mummy.” he abandoned any thought of protest.

“Please don’t have me to remind you again Phillip.” she said “Or else I’m afraid you will have another appointment with my hairbrush.”

At the mention of this shameful memory he could only drop his eyes to the floor in utter shame.

“He is such a pet but you are far too lenient with him darling.” mother addressed daughter ignoring the utterly embarrassed figure who was now dutifully seated at her dressing table. “You need to be far stricter. Spare the rod…and all that.”

Phillip tried to avoid looking at himself and his protrusions as he watched the two women in the mirror busying themselves at one of the large mahogany tallboys. Eventually they turned around and not wishing to risk irritating his future mother-in-law’s once more he quickly averted his eyes.

“Yes I suppose you are right Mummy.” Lucinda said “We should have done this earlier.”

“Remove your robe Phillip” her mother said.

“But…” he gasped pulling together the quilted satin lapels of the feminine robe he wore I have nothing on underneath.”

“Yes we know, dear.” she answered as if speaking to a child “I have already seen your… assets several times this week alone. And I really don’t think what you have below your waist will frighten me. ”

“Now come along darling. It’s not as if Mummy hasn’t seen you au natural, and she does bathe you when I can’t.” Lucinda said softly as she gently prised his hands away from the material “Surely you must realise we are only trying to help you.”

The mention of this, yet another in an increasing catalogue of shameful episodes was enough to ensure his compliance and he did not resist as Lucinda opened the satin robe to expose his plump and well rounded breasts.

“Extend your arms Phillip.” Mummy instructed in a brusque voice that threatened consequences in the event of a refusal.

“Aaah…. but …that’s…”he again struggled to find the words and again failed miserably not quite believing what was happening as the satin and lace cups covered his breasts. Lucinda’s hands gently settled them snugly into place and smoothed the delicate lace of the upper part of the cups before fussing over the tiny pink bow between the cups until she was satisfied it was perfectly straight.

Once more an attempt was made to mouth an objection but again he was unable to do so and could only watch in horror as the women continued their nefarious task.

 He felt the wide shoulder straps press into his skin and tighten as her mother quickly drew the two sides of the garment together and with expert dexterity secured the six hooks into their corresponding eyes.

In less than thirty seconds he had been safely locked into his first brassiere.

If the women were aware of his distress they did not show it and continued their conversation.

“Yes you were correct Mummy, my brassieres would have been a size, possibly two too small.”Lucinda said standing back to admire their handiwork

“Yes darling I knew it the minute I saw them.” her mother answered and as an afterthought turned briefly to him “Is that more comfortable Phillip?” 

She didn’t wait for his answer,

“Yes dear I’m sure it is, Mummy knows best.”

This was merely the latest in a list of humiliations he had endured recently and had learnt the hard way not to complain or voice objections as such reactions were not received well by his future mother-in-law. Now as on all previous occasions  he once again he submitted to her authority and as usual remained silent however as much as he hated to admit it, she was right. The support from the uniquely feminine garment relieved the small but  burdensome pull on his chest.

“I would have preferred one of your delightful pink ones Mummy, the lace on them is so pretty.” Lucinda said as she adjusted the shoulder straps while her mother once more tugged the cups gently before gently lifting his breasts to check they were correctly positioned. He found this unnecessary fondling of his unwanted breasts extremely humiliating but then again it was just another one in an ever growing list.

He tried to voice an objection but yet again his courage deserted him.

“Yes I know darling.” her mother said speaking over his head “It is such a pretty colour but I expect Phillip would prefer a manly colour so I thought black would be best for his first one.”

“Ahh… ahh…”a strangled gurgling sound finally made its way from his mouth but if the women heard they took no notice.

 “Has he put on a little weight, darling?” her mother asked. “His tush does seem quite plump.”

Lucinda giggled before answering.

“Yes he’s had trouble getting into his trousers in the last few days, I had to give him one of my palazzo pants yesterday.”

“Well we both know the solution to that particular problem.” her mother said and both women laughed as they returned to the tallboy.

Their conversation barely registered with him as he sat mesmerised by the reflection in the mirror, his brain having difficulty processing what his eyes were seeing. He raised his hand to touch the garment in order to establish that this was not an illusion but suddenly felt afraid to touch it. So enthralled by image in the mirror he was completely oblivious to the return of the women. It was only when Lucinda told him to stand did he become aware of a restriction around his legs.

The paralysis that had gripped his vocal cords had gradually extended to his brain and the rest of his body. He looked down in horror to see a large satin and elastic garment had enveloped his calves. With his fiancée at his front and his future mother-in-law behind him and working in tandem they tugged and strained the pale pink long-legged girdle up over his waist. As they did so Lucinda deftly moved his manhood or what now passed for it between his legs ensuring there was no unsightly male bulge. With the same nimbleness the eight hooks and eyes at the side of this formidable garment were fastened with masterful haste before his future mother-in-law finally drew the zipper up its full twelve inches. She ran the palm of her hand over the girdle’s satin panelled rear before giving his right cheek a playful slap.

“Those garters look terrible just dangling loosely.” Lucinda’s mother said, “Spoils the whole line and will make it very uncomfortable for him when sitting.”

“Sit.” she instructed however his limbs were unable to respond and both women had to gently push him back down onto the seat.

Still in a daze he was barely able to comprehend what was happening let alone lift a finger to stop them and watched helplessly as both women expertly rolled dark silk stockings up his legs and secure them to the girdle’s eight dangling garters.

As he was stood up again, the women fussed at his stockings to ensure his seams were straight he suddenly began to experience the intense constriction his torso, thighs and buttocks. The weight he had felt hanging from his chest was now lighter, more evenly distributed although the sensation of tight elastic from his shoulders to his back to his chest was becoming very evident.

The fog slowly began to clear from his brain and he felt shoes being slipped onto his feet.

“Much better.” Lucinda said “Don’t you think so darling?”

He still had not found his voice.

“Come look at yourself in the full length mirror.” her mother added as she led him across the room.

“A…aaah…” a feeble whimper was all he could manage as a shapely feminine figure stared back at him.

His breasts now stood out proudly supported as they were by the well structured satin, elastic and lace brassiere, his torso restricted and compressed by the high-waisted girdle now took on an unmistakeably feminine shape.

“Such a wonderful figure.” Lucinda said admiringly “I must say I do feel jealous Phillip.”

“A good figure is merely the result of the correct corsetry Lucinda.” her mother replied as she tugged gently at the girdle’s garters ensuring his stockings were safely secured before turning her attention to the brassiere’s straps adjusting them slightly until she was satisfied the garment was positioned properly. “This is why I’ve always urged you to wear proper foundation wear darling.”

“You’ll never get me into one of those, Mummy.” Lucinda laughed gesturing to the formidable garment that encased her fiancée.

“More comfortable Phillip?” she asked soothingly as she patted his cheek tenderly but his face, a mixture of alarm and shock, was far too troubled by the image reflected back at him and her question did not register.

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation, a maid entered and bobbed a curtsy before addressing Lucinda’s mother.

“Excuse me Madam, the…”she begun but stopped mid sentence, her eyes drawn to the girdled figure in front of the mirror.

“Yes Ellen.”Lucinda’s mother snapped impatiently at the distracted maid “What is it?”

“The ladies…”the maid continued her eyes darting between her mistress and Phillip who was still staring into the mirror and appeared completely unaware of her presence. “The ladies arrived earlier and are anxious to see you.”

“Oh dear! With poor Phillip’s unfortunate situation I had forgotten completely about the girls arriving today.” she said. “We had something planned.”

“The ladies are becoming… a little… restless Madam.” Ellen said diplomatically her gaze turning back to Phillip.

Suddenly the low sound of chattering voices from the direction of the stairs filled the room.

“The girls will be here in a minute.” she said.

The words lit up in his brain like a neon sign.

The girls he repeated and suddenly as if a switch had been thrown he emerged from his trance like state and instantly became aware of his tightly restricted body gasping in horror at the reflection in the mirror.

“We can’t allow them to see Phillip in his new foundations.” Lucinda said “and his clothes are not in this room.”

“Oh the girls won’t mind.” her mother said calmly much to his consternation “But I see what you mean.

“Perhaps one of your slips Madam.” Ellen suggested.

“An excellent idea, Ellen.” Lucinda’s mother said. “It will make him feel less embarrassed.”

As the cackle of female voices grew louder Ellen returned with a red satin slip edged with black lace.

“Please raise your arms Miss Phillipa” Ellen said as Lucinda and her mother looked at each other with quizzical looks on their faces which quickly turned into broad smiles

The maid became embarrassed and blurted an apology.

“Oh I’m sorry Madam, it’s just that…”

“Quite understandable Ellen.” Lucinda’s mother replied “We are all a bit confused. Phillipa, yes I like that, I have an aunt Phillipa a most elegant lady.””

Lucinda laughed lightly and taking Phillip’s arm looked at him with a reassuring smile.

“I’m sure Miss Phillipa doesn’t mind. Do you darling.”

Of course he was highly insulted but considering his vulnerable position now was not the time to admonish the girl.

“No of course not.” he lied and smiled weakly.

“That’s a good girl… Philippa” Lucinda said breezily and much to his irritation but he restrained his impulse to chide her.

“Phillip darling, unless you wish the girls to see you in your girdle and brassiere,” Lucinda’s mother said “I strongly suggest you allow Ellen to proceed.”

The voices were now just outside the door, his brain was in turmoil and could feel the panic rising inside.

“It really would be more dignified if you wore a slip but it’s up to you.” Lucinda said.

A quick glance in the mirror was enough to confirm his fiancée’s opinion and his arms shot up. The maid slid the shoulder straps over his raised arms and gently drew the satin material over his bosom and down his smooth girdled body. She quickly settled the lace hem just over his knees and arranged the slip’s cups over his brassiere just as the door opened. 

“Julia, darling.” The first through the door gushed in a plumy tone acknowledging Lucinda’s mother as the room suddenly filled up with the unique burbling cacophony of several female voices, all competing for each other’s attention.

As luck would have it Lucinda and her mother had moved to the other side of the room and the unwelcome interlopers were so deeply involved in exchanging kisses with Lucinda and her mother as well as continuing their separate and mutual conversations they appeared not to notice him. Observing his obvious discomfort Ellen moved in front of him and he gratefully accepted her shelter.

“Thank you Ellen.” he whispered.

“Don’t worry Miss Phillipa.” she replied in a barely audible voice, repeating her earlier insult but he was so frightened the offence barely registered. “The ladies rarely look in a servant’s direction unless they require something. In a moment or two you may be able to sneak out.”

By this stage the women were gathered in a group around Lucinda and her mother and from his semi concealed position he could clearly hear every word.

“Where is that darling fiancée of yours Lucinda?” a woman in a lilac pants suit gushed and this elicited further excitement from the party.

“We looked everywhere, the Blue drawing, the library, …” another lady added.

“The south terrace and the gardens…”a woman in a pink outfit contributed to the list of locations searched.

“We even tried the pool…” yet another interjected.

“Don’t forget the sauna and steam room.” a lady dressed in black said which brought loud and unseemly raucous laughter from all concerned and to Phillip’s surprise including Lucinda.

Whatever will the girls think if they see me like this? the thought screamed like a jet engine inside his head completely unaware just how effeminate the sentence sounded. He desperately wanted to run but fear had immobilised him and he stood mannequin like behind Ellen. They are so used to seeing me in a manly way at the spa, after all I yelped only that one time when we all had our legs waxed at the spa, and last week when some of us had our eyebrows plucked, Wendy and Margaret howled whereas I barely flinched.

“Anyway darling.” The women in the lilac pants suits said to Lucinda “We decided to surprise you and take you and your mother for some lunch and a little shopping after all you do have a wedding in the next few months. We were hoping Phillip would accompany us, to give a male perspective.”

There was a chorus of agreement from the group and to Philip’s horror one of them suddenly became aware of the two figures edging towards the door.

“Julia. Who is that?” another of the group said in a surprised voice as her eye caught Emma and Phillip who, startled by their exposure, had come to an abrupt stop.

Everyone turned in the direction of the two figures now mere inches from making their escape.

“Move away girl.” one of the matrons said in a sharp voice and as Emma slowly inched away the young man was revealed to the full gaze of the women.

The chattering stopped quite suddenly and a strange silence engulfed the room as every pair of eyes descended on him, their faces arranged into quizzical looks as they surveyed the figure clad only in lingerie. As the women slowly advanced his brain was telling him to flee but his legs rooted firmly to the floor were unable to comply.

“Is….that Phillip?” the nearest woman to him asked hesitantly.

“Surely not.” her friend doubted as she too moved a little closer.

A low whimper left his mouth as the group were now upon him.

“Oh…my.” another said “I believe it is.”

An excited babbling rose up from their ranks as his identity was confirmed beyond doubt.

“Are those real?” one of them asked as she reached out and felt his right breast causing him to recoil from her touch.

“Yes ladies quite real.” Lucinda’s mother replied.

“He looks so…”another said and still amazed at his appearance did not finish the sentence.

“So wonderfully feminine.” her friend completed it for her.

“Julia…what…how…?” all the voices jabbering at once seemed to merge into one.

Phillip who by now had begun sobbing was being consoled by the women as Lucinda’s mother recounted the unfortunate events that led to his present predicament. He scarcely heard a word as the women took turns in embracing him each holding him tightly to their ample bosoms. Although greatly reassured by their concern and kind ministrations he was nonetheless slightly unnerved by their hands lifting his slip and examining his beasts and tightly constricted buttocks. Naturally the ladies took more than a passing interest in that special region between his legs and Lucinda, of all people, proud of the method of concealment she had used drew their attention to how smooth the area was. Heaping humiliation upon humiliation, more than one hand availed of her mother’s invitation to inspect the zone. Some remarks about the absence of any visible sign of his manhood did cause more tears but once again he was comforted and assured that despite the appearance of a generous bosom and a noticeable lack of a masculine appendage the girls still considered him quite manly.

As he composed himself he saw Lucinda glancing at the clock and became a little agitated.

“Ladies I am so sorry I did not realise the time.” she said as she kissed her mother “I have a hairdresser appointment at Sassoon’s in an hour and I can’t cancel again,  I’m sure you understand.”

They all nodded supportively as she moved to Phillip kissed him on the lips.

“Now promise me, you will be a good boy for the girls Phillip.” she smiled, her right hand discretely falling to his left breast and gently squeezing it she bent forward and whispered in his ear “The three of us can snuggle up on the sofa tonight and you can tell me all about it.”

“I…but…it’s…”he tried to raise an objection but she had already moved to the door, his attempt to follow her was immediately cut off as the women moved between them.

“That’s such a shame Lucinda.” the lady in the lilac pants suit sighed taking a firm hold of Philip’s hand “We were hoping to visit various bridal boutiques to view some gowns and perhaps even persuade you to try on some.”

“Yes that is a shame.” Lucinda said smiling yet without much conviction. “But I’m sure you’ll think of something. Now I really must fly. Do take good care of him ladies.” Lucinda said as she opened the door.

“Oh we always do.” her mother said to a chorus of excited agreement from the ladies. “Isn’t that right girls?”

As the door closed and the ladies turned to look at him he instinctively knew his constricting girdle wasn’t the only reason for the tightness in his stomach.