Part-2: Forced Feminization Story - Gloria, The Amazing Story Of A Boy Turned Into A GirlForced Feminization Story - Gloria, The Amazing Story Of A Boy Turned Into A Girl
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FORCED FEMINIZATION STORY - GLORIA, THE AMAZING STORY OF A BOY TURNED INTO A GIRL
PART-2: Continuation of Chapter 4: At the Opera:
Jean-Marie thought he couldn't believe his ears. What did she just say? Who was dressed up? Did she just say "I"? Could it be that this feminine creature was a boy in dresses? And what did she say about other boys who liked to dress as girls? And everybody acted as if nothing was amiss! He did not understand the world anymore. Or was this the sophisticated big city world? He probably was just too square to understand it all on his first night out. "I will have a lot to learn," he thought.
He looked at Coco again, trying to find some hint that would tell him if he had heard correctly. Coco, who had continued her analysis of Mozart's probable intentions, suddenly stopped, feeling his stare.
"Oh I am sorry, I didn't know that you didn't -. But of course you are new here. To relieve your doubts and satisfy your curiosity: Yes, I am a boy, but I have been living as a girl entirely for several years now. I like it and I want it and I do it and I don't give a damn if anybody else doesn't like it."
"I am sure she did not mean any offense but it is probably the first time today that she has seen such a pretty boy-girl," Aunt Margaret cut in.
He slowly caught his breath.
"Oh, no, no offense at all. It is just that you are so unbelievably pretty, and your dress ... and, ah ... hair and ..."
He felt perfectly boorish.
"Well, I forgive you. And just to close this topic once and for all: I am not one of those, 'homosexuals' Freud writes about. I do not make love with men. I have a girlfriend, who could not come tonight, and I think Karl here is perfect in his role as escort to me. Karl, be a darling and take me to the bar again. I want another glass of champagne." She smiled sweetly at him and offered her arm to be led away.
"I think you need another glass of champagne, too," Aunt Margaret said to Jean-Marie, "Let's go and get some."
He could only follow quietly.
"I am sorry I did not prepare you for this surprise but, you see, it is not that uncommon that a boy is wearing girls' clothes. Oh, by the way, I have not told them about you."
During the entire rest of the performance he could not take his mind off what he had just heard. Was it really possible that there were boys who lived as girls? If what he had just heard was true, it must be so. But wasn't this utterly wrong? Then he remembered his own very pleasant feelings when he was put into the clothes he now wore. Maybe there was a similarity; maybe there were others who had the same feelings, and maybe ...
Repeatedly he stole glances at Coco, who was sitting completely at ease at the other end of the box. How could a boy be so feminine? Again, doubts rose within him. Maybe they were just putting him on. But Coco had been so sincere and matter of fact when she had spoken to him. He was completely confused. When the performance ended and everybody walked out, he fell back behind the others, who were chatting lightly about the performance. He remained very quiet on their way home.
V. The Deflowering
When they reached home, he discovered that he suddenly was very hungry and was glad when the parlor-maid who received them and took their cloaks announced that a little supper had been prepared in his sitting-room. Aunt Margaret joined him in it and soon they were having delightfully prepared little sandwiches, and drinking more champaign. He discovered that he could eat only very little, probably because the tight constriction of the corset did not leave much room. The champagne apparently did not need any room under the corset: it went straight to his head and soon he was feeling quite relaxed and in the best of spirits. He even got up, picked up his train and started dancing around the room, humming popular tunes.
Aunt Margaret watched him for some minutes before she got up too and caught him in her arms.
"Enough for tonight," she cautioned him, "you'll have to go to bed now. It has been a very long and exciting day for you."
She guided him into the bedroom and started to undress him. She took off his jewels, his dress and his petticoats, leaving him wearing only his long gloves, his corset and his stockings. He relished her ministrations and enjoyed every touch.
Suddenly, she tied a wide satin ribbon around each of his wrists so that there was about eight inches of material between them. The middle was tightly knotted to another wide satin ribbon. He did not understand what it was all about because this really was not fettering him in any way. She was not done, however, and she guided his arms over his head and behind his neck. Then she pulled the loose end from the second ribbon to the front where she knotted it securely around his neck, hiding the knots with an attractive bow under his chin. He discovered that she had made him completely helpless in this simple way. He could not use his arms or hands at all.
She took him around his small waist and drew him close. He felt completely in her power and unable to resist her in any way. She kissed him deeply on his mouth, letting her soft tongue play around his lips and with his tongue. It was the first time anybody had kissed him like this, but he enjoyed it immensely, and reciprocated with his own tongue. He instinctively wanted to put his arms around her, but the satin bondage she had put him into prevented it and made him realize all the more that he could only give in to her.
After several minutes she broke away and started to kiss his nipples, which already were big, hard and erect. Shivers of delight raced through him. The pull of the tightly gartered stockings, the constriction of his corset, and the soft touch of his leather gloves rubbing against his neck and shoulders all gave him an exciting feeling: he really felt like a girl now, a girl helpless in the arms of her lesbian lover.
Margaret guided him to the bed and made him lie down. She climbed on top of him still fully clothed and straddled him, bunching up her long skirt around her. She moved upward until she sat on his chest, rubbing her crotch against his nipples. He discovered that she, too, wore no drawers. He felt the soft, moist lips of her ***** wander around and caress his hard nipples. He writhed in real ecstasy, his whole body squirming under her. All he could hear was his heavy breathing and the rustling of her skirts about him.
After a while, she raised herself to a kneeling position. She picked up her skirts and covered his head with them. All was dark now. She moved her crotch closer to his mouth until her nether lips met his.
"I want you to use your tongue now. Lick it, suck it, let your tongue play around in it," she commanded.
He couldn't ob
When she pulled back her skirts from his face, he saw a happy, satisfied smile on hers.
"That was very good. You are very talented. I shall reward you now."
She reached back to the bottom of his corset and unfastened the strap that held his turgid tool captive. As soon as the pressure relented, it sprang up. She grabbed it and massaged it slowly.
"This is my toy now. I can do whatever I please with it, can't I?" she demanded of him.
"Yes, you can anything at all." She raised herself again and slowly let his ***** glide into the moist warm depth of her love nest. She started to rise and fall in a slow, even rhythm, watching his mounting excitement, driving him crazy.
"You see, you cannot resist me in any way, and you really don't want to. You are my captive below my skirts, the skirts of a woman, the skirts that you wore today and will be wearing tomorrow. You will be absolutely subjected to my will and desire from now on."
He felt like he had to rebel against this subjection, but did not have the power nor did he wish to rebel. Actually he wished this never would stop.
She prolonged the excitement: as soon as she felt his climax nearing, she sat down on him without any movement until he cooled down a bit and then started the cycle again. All the time she spoke to him in a low, but intense tone, as if she were hypnotizing him and wanted to plant her words into his mind. She spoke about his subjection to her that he couldn't escape and that he did not really want to escape at all.
He was almost out of his mind with pleasure. His breath came in short little gasps now and when finally she allowed him to come, he was so exhausted mentally, emotionally and physically that he simply passed out.
Margaret raised herself and got off the bed. She arranged her skirt and rang for Suzanne.
"Put him into a nightgown and have him down for breakfast tomorrow at nine," she ordered, and left for her own apartments.
5. Start Into a Girl's Life
When he awoke, it took him some time to get oriented. Where was he? Whose bed was he in? Slowly the happenings of last night came back to him. Was it all true? Or were there things he had just dreamed? And which things were real and which not? He remembered having champagne was it all a crazy, drunken dream?
He looked around, saw the bell-rope close to his bed and decided to try it. Seconds later Suzanne entered greeting him cheerfully.
"I was just coming to wake you up. Madame wants you to join her for breakfast in half an hour, so we must hurry."
She pulled back the satin, down filled blanket. Too late, he tried to hold on to it to keep himself covered.
"Come on, don't be bashful, I've seen you completely naked yesterday, so there is no reason to hide anything today. Come on, get up now."
When he tried to jump from the bed, he discovered he was still laced tightly into a corset, which prevented him from bending his body. He had to sit up carefully and then glide from his bed. He wore a beautiful nightgown of the finest muslin, encrusted with heavy lace all around his neck and shoulders and at his hands. Suzanne put high heeled mules on his feet and pulled him up.
"Take off the nightgown I'll loosen the stay-laces."
That was music to his ears because, standing, he felt the terrible constriction of that awful garment again. He shed the gown in two seconds.
After letting him out of the corset, Suzanne took him to the bathroom where a wonderful smelling warm bath already awaited him. She soaped his entire body down with perfumed soap and toweled him dry. He felt great.
"Sit over here so I can attend to your hair."
She directed him to a chair in front of a mirror and started to curl his hair.
"Why do you do this," he asked, "Can't I wear male clothes today?"
"If there weren't any around last night, there aren't any around now. Nothing materialized during the night. Your trunk has not arrived yet and today is a holiday and all the shops are closed. I am afraid you will have to be a girl again today and I'll do my best to make you a pretty one."
After about 10 minutes he had a very girlish hairdo with most of his hair piled up in curls.
"Now you just slip into the dressing-gown you had on yesterday and off you go to meet Madame."
He was a little afraid to see her after what happened last night if it had happened and he had not just dreamed it. Suzanne brought him to his aunt's bedroom door, knocked, and shoved him in when she answered.
"Good morning my dear, did you sleep well?," she greeted him cheerfully.
She was sitting dressed in a wonderful "dishabille" at a little table covered with all you could want for breakfast. He went over to her and answered, greeting her with a polite little bow.
"Good Morning, Aunt Margaret."
She laughed and stopped him.
"Now this is not at all the behavior of a pretty girl. You still have a lot to learn. Girls don't bow, girls curtsey. You know how to do that, don't you? Well then, go back to the door and come in again."
Hey, I am a boy and she should be content with my bowing he thought. Just because I am wearing this silly gown doesn't mean I've become a girl, he thought. But when he looked into her face and saw she was completely serious, he thought it best to humor her, so he did go back and returned, curtseying deeply in a totally exaggerated way.
"Good morning, Aunt Margaret."
"Now this was not what I had in mind. I don't want to be made fun of. Please go back and do it again properly this time. I know you can do better."
She was dead serious now. He had to go back and repeat the whole scene. This time he did it like a young girl would have done it.
"Good morning, Aunt Margaret."
She smiled at him. "Good morning, Gloria."
Somehow he felt that there was much more to this scene than what it appeared to be.
"Have a roll and butter. There is jam and marmalade and honey. And here is coffee, tea and milk."
He was really hungry and started to devour a roll as soon as he had buttered it.
"Please restrain yourself a little bit: eat a bit more civilized," she admonished him. "By the way, I can see your behavior leaves much to be desired. I think we must lay down some ground rules for you while living here with me."
"You see, while you are living here as a girl, I want you to behave like one at all times. I don't want to see a dragoon in skirts. And I want you to show me the respect I am entitled to. You are my ward and I am your guardian and I want your behavior to show this period. So as long as you are dressed as a girl, you will curtsey to me when you greet me. Further, you will ask permission for everything you want to do and if you receive it, you will say "thank you" and curtsey. If I give you permission to do anything that you hadn't requested in the first place, you will interpret this as an order to do it, but treat it as a wish granted anyhow, thank me for it and curtsey before you go and do it."
He was taken aback she evidently meant everything she said. Had nothing happened last night? He was more insecure than ever. Well, lastly what she had said was of no real importance for him, because this afternoon at the latest he would become a boy again and shed these silly feathers.
"You know, you need some rules in society, which make living together possible, and smooth the edges in the relations between people. I don't want to oppress you, but some rules are necessary, and I think we shall get along beautifully if we both observe these basic rules."
There obviously was some truth to this, he had to concede, but he had some doubts about the necessity of exactly the rules that she had laid out before. But he did not worry too much. These rules would not outlive this day, he was sure.
"Would you like to go horseback riding through the Tiergarten with me this morning?" she asked him.
He was all for it. He would show her some equestrian exercises that no girl could do and thereby assert his masculinity.
"Of course, I would love to."
"Then go and get dressed and I'll meet you downstairs at the stable in 15 minutes."
Although he could have eaten at least two more rolls, he got up. He remembered to curtsey before he turned toward the door. He almost bumped into Aunt Margaret's maid who brought her a stylish riding suit with black riding coat, red vest, black breeches and boots. He was glad to see this, evidently there finally were trousers available here.
Entering his own suite, he found Suzanne waiting for him. She took off his dressing-gown and put him into a corset again using the lacing bar. He had expected this somehow and was glad that it was shorter in its lower part than the ones he had worn the day before. A chemise of fine linen followed, then a white satin blouse with long sleeves. A big, light grey satin cravat was tightly tied around his neck. He was waiting for the breeches when Suzanne pulled a riding habit from one of the closets: No breeches, but a long, wide skirt of fine black cheviot and a small and tightly cut jacket. All his hopes were gone. He gave in, however, and let Suzanne dress him in the severely cut habit. It fit him perfectly. The riding boots, though, had heels about two inches high quite unusual.
Suzanne guided him down to the stables, carrying his hat and gloves. Aunt Margaret had already mounted her dapple-grey mare.
"Hurry up now, we haven't got all day."
She looked marvelous, if a little masculine, with her black top hat. Before he mounted his horse, Suzanne fastened his hat in his curls, a small, feminine thing, decorated with a long thick veil, which she tied in a large bow under his chin, letting the long ends stream down his back. He looked extremely feminine with his hour-glass silhouette, the long, full skirt and the veiled hat.
He experienced a real shock however, when he realized that his horse bore a side-saddle. He had, of course, never used one of these before and did not know if he would be able to handle it at all. Before he could make up his mind, the coachman had already bent down, offering his help and suddenly he found himself seated in the saddle.
"Let's go. Show me if you really can ride," and off Aunt Margaret went.
He felt very humiliated having to ride side-saddle in a dress while she rode in breeches like a man.
It went better than he had feared, but it was an unaccustomed and rather strenuous exercise for him and he was really tired and hungry when they finally came back at noon. After a light lunch together, Margaret allowed him to retire for a little rest. When he asked about his trunk, he was in for the next shock: it had not arrived yet, and nobody seemed to know where it could have gone to. This meant he would again have to spend the afternoon and night as a girl.
6. An Unpleasant Experience
After a refreshing rest, Suzanne reappeared and dressed him in a delicate pink afternoon frock, dripping with lace all over. Of course he had to wear a corset again, and this time Suzanne had to close the gap entirely because the frock had an even tighter waist than the others. It had short sleeves, and Suzanne put his hands and arms in tight pink gloves that reached over his elbows. His feet were shod in pink boots with very high heels. After having made up his face just a little, she sent him down to take tea with Aunt Margaret.
Tea had been served in a large salon and Aunt Margaret sat at a little table, reading a newspaper. He sat down next to her. When she let down her paper, he addressed her.
"Aunt Margaret, may I ask you a question?"
"Certainly Dear, go ahead."
"Since my trunk did not arrive, can we go tomorrow and get some male clothes for me?"
"Well, why? Don't you like the things you are wearing? Look into a mirror. You look so pretty, you should always wear dresses. But if you insist, indeed I shall get you some male things as soon as possible however tomorrow is quite impossible. I have been invited to visit friends at their estate south of Berlin for the holidays. And you will accompany me, of course. We will not be back until Tuesday around noon. I am afraid you will have to stay a girl at least until then. So relax and enjoy it."
She returned to her paper leaving him to digest this shattering news.
The parlor-maid announced a visitor.
"Mademoiselle Coco, Madame."
"What a pleasant surprise, show her in, please."
Coco entered with rustling and swishing petticoats. She was impeccably dressed again, and in the height of fashion in a plum-colored visiting dress with a very narrow waist and wide hips. Aunt Margaret got up and went to meet her. He got up too, following her. Aunt Margaret greeted Coco with little kisses on both cheeks. Coco then turned to Gloria and extended her hand. He took it and held it lightly while he respectfully curtseyed.
"Please sit down and have a cup of tea. What brings you here?"
"I am on my way to the Bergolds'; you know them. They have this terrible little brat of a daughter. She is fourteen now, and a complete tomboy. Her mother had asked me to make something to restrain and subdue her, and help her to become a lady."
"And what did you come up with?" Aunt Margaret asked, seeming very interested.
"Look here this will restrain her and at the same time be very beneficial for her figure, as it pushes out her bosom."
"Show me, please. No, I have a better idea. Put it on Gloria here, so I can really judge its effectiveness. Gloria, please get up and help her."
He was very reluctant, but had to get up. Coco strapped soft leather cuffs, to which stout rings were sewn, around his arms, just above the elbows. Then she stepped behind him and pulled the elbows together. He heard something snap into the rings. His elbows were now held on his back with about five or six inches between them. It was not really a restraint, he just could not bring his arms to the front anymore. Coco began to pull on something and his elbows were pulled together very slowly. The thing between the cuffs must have been some sort of pulley. His elbows were drawn closer and closer. It did not hurt him but it got increasingly uncomfortable. Finally his elbows touched. Coco took a small silver chain with spring hooks and snapped them into the rings at the cuffs. Then she released the pulley. He had hoped this would bring him some relief, but the chain now connecting his elbows still held them pressed tightly together. He felt and indeed he was completely helpless.
"Let me see it, dear, come to me," Aunt Margaret said, "Yes, it really does something to her bosom. It seems to be a very helpful and healthy thing. And yet she is not completely restrained: she can still move her hands and do a lot of things. Do you have more?"
"Yes, in fact I do. Since you mentioned the hands: if a more complete restraint is desired, you can put the lower arms into this glove. It is a single glove, encasing both arms, holding them tightly together. It has separate fingers like any glove, but each one holds the two fingers of the right and left hand tightly together, so the wearer cannot bend them. A perfect restraint, don't you agree?"
"Yes, a great idea. Why don't you put it on Gloria, too, so I can see the effect and how it looks."
"I am glad to oblige." Coco first removed Gloria's pink gloves and then started to push, pull and knead the single glove onto his arms. When she was finally done, she closed a little row of buttons at each wrist, pressing them together even tighter. Gloria's arms were now like one from elbows to fingertips.
"Marvelous! This will certainly hold any unruly girl in check. But what if she starts yelling and complaining? That can be a real nuisance."
"No problem. Look here."
She produced an oblong ob
"Open your mouth, dear."
He wanted to ob
"See how simple it is to shut off the noise?" she addressed him, "if you promise not to make any sounds, I'll let go. Nod your head if you promise."
He nodded immediately as much as he could while she was still holding on to his nose, and she let it go.
"It is perfect. I would like to have all of this. But having the elbows strapped together like this for a prolonged period of time isn't this too hard on the wearer? I think there should be another method to strap the arms behind the back just as a simple restraint."
"Of course there is. Look here."
Coco drew something that looked like a long leather tube from her bag.
"This single glove holds the arms folded in the small of the back. It does not hurt at all and can be worn for very long periods. I know women whose husbands even make them sleep in it after an ardent session of lovemaking."
"I want this too. My little friend here sometimes is a little sassy and this could teach her a little humility. Can't you leave it with me and give another set to the Bergolds?"
"Of course, I'll just have to fetch another one and if I can have your carriage, I can even be on time."
"Thank you very much, and of course I'll have you driven wherever you want."
Margaret escorted her to the door and gave orders to drive her according to her directions.
Gloria still stood there in helpless silence.
"I think I should continue to lay down the rules for your stay in this house," Aunt Margaret started when she returned, "you see, in my opinion you are still much too masculine. Since we will be spending the next three days among other people, to whom you will be presented as a girl, we must undertake great efforts to make you a little more feminine. You run around too fast, you are too sassy, and you are too impertinent. A true girl aspiring to become a lady is shy and much more reserved. To teach you to be more girlish, I shall train you rigorously from now on and these items will serve me in this purpose."
He didn't believe his ears. He thought the roof would cave in above him.
"From now on, your hands or arms will always be tied behind your back, if you are not actually required to use them, or when we have guests who do not know about your training. Whether your elbows will be strapped together like they are now, will depend entirely on your behavior. You will get black marks for every bad or ungirlish thing you do, and each mark means you have to spend one day with your elbows strapped together, including the single glove you are wearing now, morning to night. If you complain, you will also wear the gag. Just so you know what you'll have coming if you get a black mark, we shall start your training right now, and until dinner you can stay as you are now."
That was really cruel. Dinner was more than two hours away and he did not know whether he could stand this terrible constriction for so long. But he saw no way out. He was afraid to complain, as he was almost certain, it would mean the first black mark. He saw nothing he could do, but resign himself to his fate. Margaret picked up her paper again and started reading, paying no attention to his discomfort at all. He could not sit in one of the deep easy-chairs, so he tried sitting down on a stool in a corner. After a while, he started walking around the room, trying to catch Aunt Margaret's attention. He tried to express his wish to leave.
Finally she said "All right, I won't be too severe the first time. You may go upstairs and ask Suzanne to take you out of it and dress you for dinner."
He wanted to turn and dash out but remembered to curtsey as gracefully as he could and then walk out slowly with small, girlish steps.
When he reached his room, he sounded the bell for Suzanne. When she saw him, she exclaimed "Now isn't this nice and snug? Really, it does a lot for your figure."
She made no attempt to release him. He followed her around with begging eyes, but she just said "stay off my tail I have to prepare your dress for tonight. Wait a moment: I'll fix you."
She took a long ribbon, tied one end around his neck and led him like a dog to a wall-bracket, to which she fastened the other end. There he stood, unable to move away, tied to the wall with a simple ribbon with only a loose knot. It would have taken him less than a second to untie it if he had the use of his hands, and even with his teeth he could have opened the knot in no time, but there he stood, helpless like a puppy on a satin leash.
Meanwhile, Suzanne took out the dress he was going to wear, a new set of lingerie, stockings, and court-shoes, taking her time selecting each item, checking it against the others to ensure the colors matched, with no haste. She must have spent at least 20 minutes doing it, until she had all the things together. She turned to him again, took him off the wall and started to undo the single glove which imprisoned his arms from fingers to elbows. After that, with a great effort she unhooked the chain holding his elbows tightly together. He sighed deeply when he could move his arms again and immediately wanted to undo the gag. He discovered to his dismay that it was fastened not only with a buckle, but was locked on, too. He was unable to remove it.
He gestured to Suzanne to get her to take it off.
"Can't do. Don't have key. Madame has key. Must wait until she comes."
Because he could not speak to her, she spoke to him as if he were a little child, or somebody who didn't speak the language. Then she proceeded to dress him for dinner. He had to keep on his extremely tight corset. The dress was beautiful; a soft rose tone with dark red applications, a little bustle emphasizing his behind and a trained full skirt. The sleeves reached to his elbows, where they ended in a flurry of rose colored lace. His gloves were long and tight glace kid and disappeared into the sleeves. The court shoes had the highest heels of all he had worn so far. When he gestured that he thought them too high, Suzanne calmed him.
"They are just a little over four inches. They are very smart. You'll get used to their height very quickly and you'll love the way they make you walk."
When he came down to meet Aunt Margaret at the dining table, she unlocked his gag and took it out of his mouth. He was glad to be rid of it and touched his cheeks and moved his jaws to see if everything was still working.
"Well?" Aunt Margaret looked at him inquiringly.
He quickly remembered to say "Thank you, Aunt Margaret," and to do a graceful curtsey.
"The next time I have to remind you, you'll earn a black mark."
During dinner Aunt Margaret told him more about Coco. His real name was Conrad and he came from a good family. A few years before, he had decided he wanted to live as a girl and with the encouragement and help of his mother, he had done so ever since. He had his own business, making costumes for the large number of medium and small theater and music-hall productions playing in Berlin. He did most of the designs, and employed four girls who did the sewing. And if anybody wanted to have anything specially made, he was the one they turned to for extravagant and bizarre things.
Gloria wanted to know if nobody ob
Aunt Margaret explained that even though male homosexuality was punishable under the existent law, and there were many homosexuals around, who did not even try to hide their inclinations, very rarely was anybody tried and convicted. The police were keeping a watchful eye on male prostitutes (which were all well known to them) who tried to blackmail their lovers. If such a case was made known to them, they went after the blackmailer full force and the blackmailed person's case was handled most discreetly, with rarely any damage being done to him.
After dinner, Aunt Margaret sent Gloria to bed early, as the next day they would have to rise early to take an early train.
"We are visiting very dear friends of mine. They have a son who is just taking his final exams to become a medical doctor, I think you will like him. Oh, before I forget it, remind Suzanne to pack at least two evening dresses. I think there will be a ball held at the mansion Sunday night and probably there will be a dance Monday night, too."
The idea of having to dance in skirts, and probably with a man, did not thrill him at all, but as Sunday night was two nights off, he was not too scared. There might even be a chance to find some male clothes at that place and he could put an end to all this nonsense.
When Suzanne refused to let him out of his corset, he protested a little but soon gave in. He was convinced he could get out by himself as soon as she had left. He even went along playfully as Suzanne slipped his wrists through the loops of the adjustable garter-straps, "to get your hands out of my way while I clean your face," she said. It isn't even a real restraint, he thought, I can slip out any time. She pulled the nightgown over his head but left his hands in the loops.
"Have a good night and sleep well, tomorrow will probably be a long day," she said as she tucked him in and left him.
When he tried to slip his hands out of the garter straps, he discovered he could only draw the loops tighter around his wrists, but however he turned and tugged, he could not slip out of the damn things. After about half an hour of struggling, he gave up. He had underestimated her: she had outwitted him and he had blindly walked into her trap. Now he had to keep on this dreadful corset until she released him in the morning. Well, tomorrow he would put an end to this all as soon as he got some male clothes. The fact that their hosts had a son sounded promising. He would probably help him.
7. A Spanking
When Jean-Marie (or Gloria, as he now always was called by his aunt and his maid Suzanne since they had tricked him into wearing girl's clothes) woke up after a refreshing sleep, he let the last two days pass in review: How he had come to Berlin to meet his aunt and guardian and how she had made him wear girl's clothes and cunningly but gently pushed him into subjection. He tried to analyze his feelings about what had happened to him. He knew of course it was utterly wrong for a boy to be dressed as a girl. Boys just did not do this period. Everything he had learned during the seventeen years of his upbringing said it was wrong, terribly wrong and that he had to fight it and oppose it.
However, deep inside him there was something troubling him. To be dressed as a girl had caused exciting feelings in him. He still shivered with delight, when he thought back to how he had looked in his evening gown dressed up for a night at the opera. And when he remembered how he was completely tied up and gagged in the afternoon dress last night, he became terribly excited. He remembered dreams that he had had since his earliest boyhood about being tied up, dreams about beautiful women forcing him to wear girl's clothes, using him as their toy. He always had tried to shake off these terrible and unnatural dreams but they were thrilling him to his very bones.
He had never ever talked to anybody about these dreams. He would have died of shame. He was convinced that nobody would understand his feelings anyhow, and he would be ridiculed by all, so it was best to bury them deep inside and push them aside whenever they occurred. These dreams were so odd, they must be unique. He was sure nobody else had these dreams.
Yet that night at the opera and again yesterday he had met a beautiful girl, who actually was a boy, and who made no secret of this, and the fact that she enjoyed dressing and living as a girl and preferred it to a masculine existence. Were there others who had the same or similar feelings? It was quite a revelation to him that, evidently, there were. Coco had made some remark about her knowing other boys who liked to dress up.
But anyway, he resolved that this was not for him. He wanted to become an engineer like his father had been and travel through the world to bring the wonders of technical progress to its far corners. He wanted to fight the elements and make them bow to human to his willpower. That was a task where only a strong man could succeed. Nobody ever heard of a female railroad engineer laying tracks through deserts and jungles, for instance. He therefore had to put an end to the doings and machinations of his aunt and shed the female things she put on him.
That morning he felt so strong that he was sure that nobody could deter him from finding some male clothes and doing away with the girlish things they had made him wear. In spite of his tight corset, which he had to keep on during the night, and the fact that his arms were held to his side by the elastic loops of its garters, he climbed out of his bed. The clock on the mantlepiece showed 10 minutes to seven. With his teeth, he tugged at the bell to summon the maid.
Suzanne appeared almost immediately.
"Good morning, Gloria, you are up early. Madame had asked me to wake you at seven. All the better: we have a few minutes more."
She removed his nightgown, unfastened his wrists from their elastic but inescapable fetters and proceeded with the morning ritual of perfumed bath, brushing and curling his hair and dressing him. Strapping him to the lacing bar, she put a new corset on him that was not as tight as the one last night, it left him with about half an inch more room. He was really thankful for this little additional space, although after only about 30 hours in corsets his body seemed to have adjusted fairly well to the compression of these torture tools.
Suzanne dressed him in a traveling costume of light beige wool with dark brown velvet applications. His feet were shod in smart beige boots with heels only a little higher than three inches.
"Madame said breakfast will be served in her rooms at 8:15. We have about half an hour until then. I shall pack your things now and you can help me select the things to pack. As you do not have to pack anything yourself, please put your hands on your back so I can lock them together as Madame had wished."
This is my chance to put my foot down and stop this nonsense, he thought.
"I shall not allow you to tie up my hands. There is no reason to do it, I did not do anything wrong and I do not have to be punished. It is humiliating enough having to wear these clothes, but I shall not tolerate being tied up by you."
He looked at her defiantly.
She did not answer him, she just took his right hand in her hands, raised her arms and slipped through under them, turning herself full circle and passing him doing it. She ended standing behind him, holding his right arm in a very painful hammer-lock position. All this happened in less than a second and took him entirely by surprise. He screeched with pain. He almost doubled over to escape the pain. She steered him toward the backrest of a large easy chair.
"All right, if you want it the hard way, it's your choice. Pick up your skirt with your left hand and hold it high up on your back," she commanded.
When he hesitated, she pulled his right arm higher, causing the awful pain to increase even more. He feared that the slightest further increase of her pull would dislocate his shoulder, so he gave in and pulled his skirt up. She helped him and gathered all of it on his back, directing his left hand to hold it there. From the dressing table nearby she grabbed a hair-brush and started to spank him hard on his bare behind.
He screeched and howled with pain but she did not relent, she just bent him deeper over the backrest and buried his face into the thick pillows lying on the seat, effectively muffling his cries. She spanked him hard until her arm began to tire and his cries had turned to uncontrolled heavy sobbing. She did not let him go after she stopped beating him, just released her hold on him a little bit so he could raise his body. His face was read and wet from his tears, he still sobbed so hard that his whole body was *******. It was not just the pain, which shook him up, it was the total humiliation of being spanked like that by a mere girl that had shattered his masculine ego.
"Will you now obey me, if I tell you to do something?"
He hastened to nod, wiping his nose and his eyes with his free hand.
"Or do you want a repeat performance?"
He shook his head violently, still unable to speak for his sobbing.
She let go of his arm. "All right then. Here are some handcuffs. Put them on yourself behind your back."
Still unable to control himself, he took the shining things and fumbled behind his back until they were closed and locked his hands closely together on his back. Suzanne checked to see if they were on tight enough and was satisfied only after she had tightened them a notch or two.
"Now, as Madame had wished, you will wear them at all times when you are not required to use your hands for something you were asked to do. If I forget about it, you will remind me. And you will put them on yourself as soon as I ask you to, understand?"
He nodded with is head hanging down.
"Now let me clean up your face and put on some make-up so people won't see right away you have been crying."
She made him sit in front of the mirror and started with the cosmetics.
"And by the way, I may as well tell you now, you will hear it from Madame anyway: Madame has promoted me from your maid to your governess. I have to instruct you on feminine behavior, ladylike deportment and so on. We shall have many training sessions every day from now on. And since I am not your maid anymore, I want you to call me "Mademoiselle" from now on and you will have to curtsey to me when greeting me or when I give you permission to do something exactly as you have to do with Madame."
His spirits were completely broken. Another humiliation, having to accept this girl as his superior, who could give him orders.
"Madame also told me that she thinks it is unsuitable and sounds childish if you call her "Aunt". She thinks being called "Aunt" by a big girl like you in front of strangers makes her appear too old. But just calling her "Margaret" is entirely inappropriate, since she is your guardian, and you should show the respect due to her in addressing her. She therefore wants you to address her as "Madame". I suggest you remember this, lest you start collecting black marks swiftly."
After this new blow to his ego, he was seriously thinking of fleeing from this house at once. But what could he do? Fettered as he was, he would not even be able to reach the door of his room. And dressed as he was where could he turn in a strange city with no money? He had to find an opportunity to escape. Maybe the weekend excursion would present a chance.
8. A Trip to the Countryside
When he entered Margaret's sitting-room, it was precisely 8:15. He closed the door behind him and waited there until she looked up.
"Good morning, Madame," he greeted her with a graceful curtsey.
"Good morning, Gloria, come and join me for breakfast."
She looked him in the face. "Have you been crying? Tell me the reason."
He truthfully related the whole incident to her.
"Now that was stupid of you, not to obey Mademoiselle in the first place, wasn't it? Mademoiselle had every right to do what she did. You see, while you are living here as a girl, you have to be obedient and submissive as is befitting a young girl. I shall not tolerate any insolence or willfulness on your part. This kind of behavior, often found in young men, is not acceptable even in them, much less in a girl. I hope that you will soon adapt your demeanor to the ways expected by society as the proper behavior of a young lady. It will make things easier for all of us, but mostly for you, though. I hope you agree with me. Don't you?"
He took a deep breath as far as the constriction of his corset allowed and silently nodded, his eyes downcast. No use putting up a fight here and now: he could only loose.
"Well, answer me, Gloria, and look at me."
She treated him like a recalcitrant child, but he had to give in.
"Yes, of course you are right and I agree with you, Madame," he finally managed to say.
"Well, then this is settled and out of the way. Let's enjoy the nice day and our breakfast."
He hoped she would release him from the handcuffs in vain.
"I see you are a little hampered. Well, then I shall prepare you a roll and feed you. Do you want coffee or tea?"
And she fed him like a baby, even dabbing his lips with a napkin after each bite or sip. Long before he had enough, she stopped and told him "Run along and ask Mademoiselle to get you ready for our trip. I shall meet you downstairs at the carriage in 10 minutes."
He got up obediently.
"Thank you very much, Madame," he managed to say, not forgetting his curtsey.
"You are very welcome, my dear. See how simple it is?"
Half an hour later they, which was Margaret, Suzanne, and Jean- Marie or as the two women wanted Jean-Marie to see it Madame, Mademoiselle, and Gloria, were sitting in a reserved first class compartment in the train that would bring them to the estate of their hosts for the holidays.
Suzanne had exercised another little tyranny over Gloria. After having "her" slip into a light dust-cloak, which matched the colors of "her" dress, she had hung an ornamental cord around "her" neck, which suspended a dainty velvet **** just below her waist.
"Slip your hands into it please," she asked "her".
Jean-Marie sensed something mischievous in her request, but was afraid to ob
"Another little toy, that will teach you proper submissiveness. You will not need your hands until we get there and if you are careful and push your hands well in, nobody will see the fetters."
After the train had started, Suzanne had drawn down the shades on the windows on the side of the aisle, so nobody could look into their compartment.
"I am just thinking: Gloria is wearing rather low heels today. I think she might be tempted to walk with an unfeminine stride when we arrive. The surroundings will be rather rural and that might make her forget to move gracefully. Her dress is very comfortable and does nothing to remind her to curb her stride. I think we should restrain her somehow to prevent any mistakes she might make."
"An excellent idea, Suzanne, what do you propose?" Margaret supported Suzanne's argument.
"Well, I have here a small gadget that just might do the trick. May I fix it on her legs?"
"By all means, please do."
Suzanne drew back Gloria's skirts to her knees. She knelt down and fastened a strong cloth ribbon around each of Gloria's legs just below her knees. Other ribbons, adjustable in length, connected these in front and in back.
"All right Gloria, get up and walk up and down."
He discovered that he could take only the tiniest steps.
"You can't leave this on," he protested, "I would not even be able to step down from the car in the station."
"Don't you worry your little head, my dear, I can easily give you some more room. Now sit down again."
He did it and she reached under his skirts and pulled twice. But instead of getting more freedom, his knees were drawn tightly together.
"That's the wrong way," he protested.
"Oh no, as you will not be doing any walking for the next hour or so, your knees can stay strapped together like this. It will remind you, always to sit with your knees pressed together. Another lesson in femininity. And since you cannot walk anyway, I may as well bind your ankles together."
She did it using a similar ribbon, which she wound around both ankles, pulled tight and buckled.
There he sat with his two mistresses, tied hand and foot, fashionably dressed as a girl, and he had not the slightest chance to escape them. It should have made him angry, rebellious or at least dejected or depressed. Strangely enough, none of this happened. The situation inexplicably aroused his passions, and he leaned back into the corner of his seat, closing his eyes, and gave way to these surprising, but very pleasant feelings.
During their ride, Margaret explained that her husband and Mr. von Eltzen, their host for the weekend, had been business partners. He had only recently acquired the estate and renovated the mansion.
Shortly before they reached their destination, Suzanne freed his ankles and his hands and loosened the straps at his knees. Somehow, he wished it had continued, but then he remembered his plan to escape his mistresses.
At the station they were picked up by a large coach. After their bags were stowed away, the coachman said they would have to wait a few moments, as he had to pick up somebody else; another lady.
"Look who's coming," Margaret suddenly exclaimed, "it's Coco!"
Really, there she came, very stylishly dressed for a visit "… la campange" in a forest green wool suit, wearing a rather austere, almost masculine hat, which was only softened by a large veil draped around its crown, partly drawn over the face, partly hanging in long streamers down the back.
She marched toward the coach using a walking stick made of polished knotty wood to help her. Even in this costume without any frills or ruches she looked extremely feminine and her "marching" could hardly be called that. She projected the picture of a very fragile girl. Jean-Marie was again amazed by her extremely narrow waist. Even now with the heavier material of her costume, it was unbelievable small.
When she reached the coach and saw who was sitting in it, she let out a little shriek of delight.
"I don't believe it. I had no idea you were coming, too. We could have traveled together. Well, I am glad to see you. I was afraid I wouldn't know anybody besides the hosts."
The porter who had followed her put her bag into the trunk at the back and she greeted everybody with a little kiss, and sat down opposite from Margaret.
"Well, what a pleasant surprise."
Jean-Marie simply couldn't believe that this ultra feminine creature could be a boy. He made a mental note to find out more about her during the coming days.
The coach took about half an hour to reach the von Eltzen estate. They were greeted by their hosts.
"I suggest you go to your rooms first and get settled and then we can all take a carriage-ride until lunch-time. My husband is dying to show off his property," announced their hostess, Mrs. von Eltzen.
After the official introduction to their hosts, Jean-Marie had tried to keep in the background as much as possible. He had not seen the son of their hosts. He wanted to find him as soon as possible to get some male clothes, before any other guests arrived who could see him as a girl. He was afraid to ask for him directly; he just had to take his chances and keep his eyes open for him.
After they were shown their rooms and all their bags had been delivered, they returned to the hall. Where is this son-of-a-*****, now that I need him, Jean-Marie thought. Much to his disappointment, he had to join the others for the ride. Luckily, they were the only guests so far. When Margaret enquired who else was expected to come, Mr. von Eltzen told her they were all neighbors and not expected until dinner.
The property was impressive. The mansion overlooked a lake: there was a boat-house and a private landing with a small sailing-yacht. The grounds were landscaped in the English country park fashion with groups of trees and hedges in the meadows. They saw orchards and fields and went through the village nearby, but nothing could hold Jean-Marie's interest. He was glad when they finally returned and lunch was announced.
Then he appeared.
"May I introduce our son, Fritz," Mr. von Eltzen proclaimed.
Jean-Marie looked him over with intense interest. He was taller than Jean-Marie, at least 5' 9" but rather slim, definitely not the athletic type. That was good. Probably his trousers would be too long for him, but you could always fold up what was too long inside the leg. His shirts and jackets could just fit him maybe the arms would be a little long.
"You know everybody, Fritz, except our young guest here, Baroness Gloria von Leydenburg, Baronin von Leydenburg's niece."
Jean-Marie was still staring at him, calculating, comparing Fritz' size to his, when he saw Fritz' outstretched hand waiting for his. Oh my God, I am Baroness Gloria von Leydenburg! It suddenly dawned on him. Never before had he been introduced that way and for a moment he had not even realized that it was he who was being introduced. He offered his hand to be shaken and got another shock when Fritz bowed to him and breathed a kiss on his hand. Just in time, he remembered to curtsey.
"You seem to have flustered her quite a bit, Fritz," Margaret observed "I hope you do not take advantage of her bewilderment. Be a gentleman."
"But of course, Frau Baronin."
At lunch Fritz took him to the table, but with all the others around then, he had no opportunity to talk to him about his problem. He could, however, watch him and his actions very closely. Fritz had very delicate hands, with long slim fingers. If he was a doctor, he had to be a surgeon. His face was finely cut, with soft features showing great sensitivity. He spoke in a low, modulated voice. The conversation mostly was about his work at a hospital in Berlin, and Jean-Marie felt that he was very dedicated to it. Had Jean-Marie really been a girl, he could have fallen in love with him. Good looking, coming from a good family but most important, a sincere, caring personality.
Jean-Marie was sure he would be understanding and help him if he just had a chance to talk to him in private for a few minutes. But his hopes dwindled when Fritz told him he had to go back to Berlin, to the hospital. He was scheduled for duty for a double shift from four o'clock that afternoon to eight Sunday morning. When he saw "her" obvious disappointment, he assured "her" that he would be back for the ball scheduled for Sunday night.
Jean-Marie was disappointed, but for quite different reasons than Fritz could imagine. He had to find another way to get to male clothes. Maybe he could just steal no, borrow some of Fritz's while he was gone. But he had no such luck. After lunch, Fritz rushed off and everybody else went to take an afternoon nap. Suzanne and Margaret made sure Jean-Marie would stay with them. Maybe they had sensed his imminent rebellion. They had three adjoining rooms, all three interconnected and having a door to the hall. Suzanne closed and locked the door of his room leading to the hall and took the key along. He now could only exit through either Suzanne's or Margaret's room. He looked out of the window but it was too high to jump and there was nothing near he could climb down on. He was caught again.
Suzanne came and undressed him, leaving on his corset. She made him put his wrists through the garter loops again, fettering him in this simple and yet effective way, and put him to bed.
After he had rested and slept a little bit, Suzanne came and dressed him for the afternoon tea. He had to wear a gown that again was very tight in the waist and Suzanne had to take in his corset another half inch. When he looked into the long mirror after Suzanne had completely dressed him, he was quite taken by his reflection. Again, he was a very pretty girl. He would have liked to see Fritz' reaction to seeing him. He shook his head he was even beginning to think as a girl.
9. The Deflowering Part Two
The afternoon tea proved to be rather dull. There were only the women present and apart from the four visitors from Berlin and their hostess, there were only some neighbors, and their conversation circled around their houses, kids and gardens. Jean-Marie was glad when they all left and they retired to get dressed for dinner.
Suzanne selected a very elegant dinner dress for him. It left him very little room to move from its high, tight collar to the narrow skirt, which only permitted small, mincing steps. When he complained about the restrictions, Suzanne just told him he would mostly be sitting at the table.
"This is not a ball-gown to dance in, and it allows you enough room to walk to and from the table."
She took great care with his hairdo and his makeup.
"Your head will be seen all the time by everybody and any pretty young girl is under constant scrutiny by the other women and even more so, if she is a "new face"."
He had to agree: he was as pretty as a picture when he walked down to dinner together with Aunt Margaret and Suzanne. Somehow, the feeling of his tight skirts keeping his legs tied together so softly, yet effectively, troubled his passions.
About twenty people had gathered already in the drawing room. They were shortly introduced all around, then dinner was announced and everybody sat down at the beautifully decorated dinner table. The food was excellent: nothing exotic, but prepared with imagination and knowledge.
Jean-Marie suddenly felt a foot lightly rubbing against his legs under the table. He looked across and saw Coco smile at him and wink. Then another foot touched him from further down the opposite side and Suzanne smiled and winked at him. He was quite disturbed by these unexpected advances, especially when he saw them look at each other and smile again. There seemed to be an understanding between the two of them. The trouble was, he couldn't make out if it was an alliance against him or if he was included as an ally in some secret plot. It could be promising, but he had better watch out.
Shortly after desert and cordials, the gathering dissolved, everyone went home, and the four ladies from Berlin retired to their rooms. Jean-Marie was not tired at all, and neither were the other three.
"I was glad to get away from them," Margaret stated.
"Von Eltzen was a business partner of my husband and we are still doing business together but he definitely is not a big charmer and the others were not very entertaining, either."
"Well, let's have a party here," Coco suggested, "I have taken my precautions for this turn of events."
She brought a cooler with a bottle of champagne from her room. "There's more where this came from," she said.
Everybody had a glass of champagne and Suzanne took Jean-Marie and started dancing with him, humming a popular waltz.
"You know, we must practice a lot until tomorrow. You will have to dance as a girl, which means mostly backwards, and with trained skirts you will surely get tangled up in them and fall, if we do not practice."
She put his left arm on her shoulder and took his right hand in her left so he had the girl's position. As it turned out, he could not dance at all with his tight skirts.
"Take them off, then," she said, "Let's get you out of that dress, and then we can dance."
In a minute they were dancing again, she fully clothed; he only in long gloves, corset, stockings and high heels. When he saw this strange couple in the mirror, it immediately aroused him. It looked so strangely erotic.
Coco and Margaret picked up the tune and started dancing as well, with Coco leading. Very soon, however, their dancing ceased and they were holding each other tightly, kissing passionately. Jean-Marie saw that Margaret opened Coco's dress in the back and pulled it off her shoulders. Coco wriggled until the dress lay in a puddle on the floor. All the time, their kissing did not let up.
Suzanne kept dancing with Jean-Marie, but he watched the other couple as much as possible. Margaret opened the ribbon that held up Coco's drawers and they, too, fell down. Then she pulled at some ribbon in the back and grabbed his **** in front. It became fully erect in just a few seconds, and she massaged it gently. Jean-Marie couldn't take his eyes off them as they started to make love slowly and oblivious to anything around them. One thing was certain now: Coco was a boy.
Suzanne had stopped dancing, too, and proceeded with him just as Margaret had done before with Coco, and soon they were similarly engaged: Margaret and Coco on a couch at the foot of the bed and Suzanne and Jean- Marie on the bed. Only the sounds of ecstatic lovemaking could be heard.
After a while, Margaret disentangled herself from Coco's embraces, got up and said to the other couple, "let's change partners."
Jean-Marie was deeply engaged in something he did not want to let up right then, but Suzanne extricated herself and let him lie on the bed, sighing deeply with closed eyes.
He opened his arms to receive Margaret. He felt a mouth close around his still-rigid shaft, and he writhed in ecstasy from the touch of lips and tongue. His hands were searching for her and he found her legs, encased in slippery silk stockings. He glided upward with slow, caressing strokes, grabbed her wonderful full ***-cheeks and pulled her to his mouth to do as he had done on their first night of love. He noticed that she was wearing a different perfume tonight. He opened his mouth and searched for her love- nest with his tongue and received the shock of his life when a hard and throbbing **** entered his mouth.
This was not Margaret: his new partner was Coco.
He wanted to reject it; get it out of his mouth, but that was easier said than done. Coco's thighs held his head immobile, and the damned thing was buried so deep that it was impossible to spit it out. Then there were the thrills that Coco's actions on his own **** caused, and soon he was unable to do anything but respond in the same way.
Just when he thought he wo
Gauchito 46-50, M 3 Feb 5, 2013