“God
has seen fit to bless me with the 'sight' of souls, and I have seen
your soul” he paused a moment “and the vision of your soul
shocked me.”
“I've
seen dogs and wolves, and foul creatures, I've seen angels and humble
servants, but the soul you present at the doors of heaven is that of
a thoroughly spoilt, vain, shallow teenage girl..I think what they
call a 'Princess'''
I
was now also shocked to silence.
“I
struggled a while to understand how a young boy could present himself
to God as a shallow vain girl”,he continued “but God in his
infinite wisdom has given me insight.”
He
almost smiled. “It's God's wisdom that led your Stepmother in her
desperation to resort to 'petticoat punishment'. I was foolish enough
to think that an unsuitable treatment, but God was obviously guiding
your dear Stepmother's hand.”
“I
believe the reason you present your soul as this shallow vain and
affected creature is that your ungodliness is a result of inner
vanity, weakness, materialism, and self centredness. Some of this is
a result of your upbringing I'm sure, but God has made it clear that
you have the inner soul of a spoilt girl. This vision of a prissy,
superficial, over ornamented young lady is the perfect affirmation of
the sorry deluded state of your soul. It's obvious now of course that
this so very clearly explains your petty girlish lies and deceits,
your weak and effeminate objections to the least troubling of
obstacles or hardships, and your selfishness above the needs of your
Stepmother and dear Brother.”
“Have
you nothing to say to this revelation?”
I
was still stunned and confused and couldn't really fathom what he was
meaning. I shook my head.
“Do
you know you have the soul of silly shallow prissy girl?”
“N..no..”
I stammered, unsure of the correct reply, but hoping honesty was the
right response.
“Well
once God had allowed me to understand the nature of your soul I had
to decide how to redress this dire situation. In past instances where
a soul has presented itself in all it's awfulness it's often been the
recourse to drive out all trace of those sins and imperfections from
the mortal being, driving the beast out of a bad man for example. And
so often in those cases the person already knew they had a wicked
beast-like character.”
“ However
sometimes when a perverted soul presents itself in a form totally
concealed from it's owner, as is your case, it's far better to tease
out that persona in the mortal world. It's better, within our mortal
ability to mirror that corrupt soul in the mortal world, reveal it,
even feed it, until our human form by constant imitation either tires
and defeats the corrupt soul, now revealed from the shadows, and this
is my dearest wish and firmest belief for you my poor boy. Or, and
this is a risk we must take, soul and human form bond and no progress
can be made, and the soul is damned forever. This I will fight my
utmost to prevent, God help me.”
“When
the dark soul is a beast there are practical limitations to teasing
out this soul, where the dark soul is in human form it's a little
easier. Where the genders of the souls differ, and that's unusual,
there are some difficulties. But I've considered this very deeply and
we will, with the blessing of God, struggle to help you purge this
pitiful soul by as much simulation as possible within the confines of
your normal life.”
This
was still not clear to me. Pastor John looked at me with a pitiful
stern gaze, Stepmother seemed to almost smile with grim satisfaction,
Aunt Julia looked at me in a way I'd never seen her look before,
almost an hungry anticipatory expression played about her stern lips.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
“I've
spoken to your school Principal. I've no wish to interrupt the flow
of your normal life and progression because of a wicked corrupt soul
unless we really have no choice. I've not specified our mission but I
have under religious grounds achieved permission for you to grow your
hair and have….” He looked to Aunt Julia questioningly.
“Pierced
ears Pastor” she responded calmly.
“….Yes,
pierced ears. The Principal has agreed this, and she will be vigilant
in defending your rights to these freedoms.”
I
squirmed uncomfortably. Long hair might be cool but pierced ears I
wasn't sure about. Maybe that was cool too, a lot of male stars wore
an earring. Perhaps I'd look like a tough pirate. Perhaps I'd be
teased mercilessly, I wasn't sure but I felt distinctly uneasy about
this.
“Our
plan….” and he nodded to Aunt Julia and Stepmother
inclusively”...is that each Friday afternoon you will be met by
your Aunt and taken on the early evening Ferry to the island. There
your Aunt has very graciously made ample arrangements to achieve to
the best of our earthly ability the simulation that will we fervently
wish will cure your soul of it's degeneracy. This may be a painful
road for you boy but you should thank your Aunt for her righteous
efforts to save you from eternal damnation.”
He
looked to me expectantly.
I
hesitated a moment. My mind was racing to try to comprehend my fate.
It was so vague so far I wasn't sure what they meant. It was clear
though he expected me to thank my Aunt.
“Thank
you Aunt Julia” I said as humbly as I could manage.
“Call
me Auntie now dear” she smiled.
Her
smiles always chilled me a little, and the Aunt to Auntie switch was
lost on me.
“Thank
you Auntie” I added quietly.
The
Pastor cleared his throat and continued. “Your 'Auntie'..” he
smiled to Aunt Julia in acknowledgement, which was yet another
chilling vision..” Your Auntie will return you on the early Monday
morning Ferry and you shall continue your scholarly pursuits as
normal until the following Friday. Is that clear boy?”
It
wasn't at all clear. What exactly was going to happen to me on the
island stuck with creepy Aunt Julia. However I had the impression he
was merely asking me if I understood the principal of going to the
island, it wasn't his manner to ask open questions.
“Yes...yes
thank you Pastor” I responded nervously.
He
smiled creepily again.
“There's
quite a few more details but your 'Auntie'” a chilling smile once
more “ And Stepmother have everything very well organized. We'll
come to some arrangement about school vacations depending on the
situation...”
What
the hell does that mean I wondered.
“It's
important for you to understand that there's some considerable cost
financially to this mission. We'll find a means for you to earn or
pay back these costs, it's an important lesson for your mortal being
to understand the costs of the extravagance and self centredness of
your depraved soul.”
This
did not sound good at all.
“God
willing our efforts will rapidly save your soul. That is our fervent
desire.”
He
looked to the two women for agreement. They both nodded their heads
solemnly.
“I
shall, in a few weeks, God permitting, attempt anew to gain a vision
of the soul you choose to present at God's threshold, and it's my
impassioned hope that the travesty of a spoiled Princess..” He
hesitated and shook his head in sorry disbelief..”My
hope...that that travesty is expunged and replaced by the vision of
the generally good boy I see before me today. But we are patient
servants of God, we shall persevere to save this humble soul shall we
not ladies?”
“Amen”
the two women proclaimed, and turned to me.
“A..amen”
I stuttered my throat turned to dust.
°°°°°°°°°°
As
Friday approached my mind was filled with dread. I veered from crazy
thoughts of some kind of painful tortured exorcism, to the thoughts
of humiliation of previous 'petticoat punishment'. Stood in
Step-mum's old sundress all day with Tim's gloating presence wasn't
much fun. I couldn't go out of course and was bored and resentful. A
whole weekend of that, much less with creepy Aunt Julia wasn't an
appetizing thought, but less gruesome than the demonic exorcism I
conjured up in my wilder moments of imagination.
I
also wondered whether the Pastor was right. Did I really have the
soul of a spoiled teen Princess? The idea felt far more humiliating
than if he'd said I had the soul of a snake or a rat. Step-mum and
Aunt idolize the Pastor, even Tim is respectful and a little fearful
of him, I was sure they all had utter faith in him. I was an
outsider, we were believers before, but not like them. In retrospect
I felt maybe I was selfish since it was hard always to love my new
family so I rarely gave them too much thought. I wasn't tough like
Tim, so maybe I was a little weak. I'd had an easy life before Dad
met her, perhaps a little too easy and too shallow a life. Maybe the
Pastor was right and my soul was twisted into a silly selfish
empty-headed weak girl. I cried when I felt close to believing it,
which only made me feel weaker and sillier. Whatever, they would help
me save my soul, which although I felt little love from my family, it
was a way of showing their love. I was however just terrified of how
they would save me.
And
that Tim I thought..he's got the soul of a rat if anyone has I smiled
to myself I thought before drifting to sleep in total innocence of my
fate for the last time that Thursday evening.
°°°°°°°
It's
Monday morning, Aunt Julia's old Volvo pulls to a halt around the
corner from my school. I step out hesitantly and pull off the hideous
salmon pink parka and hand it to Auntie in exchange for my school
bag.
“Kiss
for Auntie” she smiles..I bend and kiss her reluctantly.
“Will
see you Friday dear, don't be late! Goodbye darling!” She smiled,
waved, and drove away.
A
week ago I'd have thought it wonderful to be called her darling. She
seemed so cold and aloof, and after the loss of Dad I needed some
love and affection. But I'd been her 'darling' all weekend, and I
could cry and break down in the street at the thought of it.
I
pulled myself together. I walked towards school. It was the same
school uniform but it felt strange and alien. Maybe it was the feel
of the material against my rigorously smooth and hairless skin. I was
unsettlingly sure I still smelt vaguely of perfume despite my
concerted efforts to wash myself with normal soap a dozen times. My
hair looked a mess, with the extensions out
and
the lacquer washed out to the best of my ability my hair was fatigued
from all it's primping and teasing. I gelled it but it looked plain
tired and woolly.
But
as I approached closer to school the objects of my greatest fear felt
like cannonballs attached to each earlobe. The fantasy of those
rather dashing pirate earrings in one ear were a distant memory.
Firmly, and painfully planted in each ear were the 14 carat gold ball
earrings the size of small peas, classic 'first' earrings as Auntie
so helpfully described them.
If
the boys didn't notice, and they will, the girls will notice straight
away. And what am I to say? It's religious. I will feel so stupid and
lame.
°°°°°°°°°
And
I did feel stupid and lame. I was in shock and the school day went in
a blur of horrible memories of the weekend and the shame of those
damned earrings. Something had been said I was sure because questions
stopped before lunch, and afterwards I just got strange looks from
the boys, and perhaps more painful to me, pitiful looks from the
girls.
Step-mum
greeted me perhaps a little more warmly than usual, but otherwise as
if nothing had happened. I wanted to scream whether she had any idea
of my ordeal, but somehow I was so ashamed I couldn't bare to tell
her any detail and she never asked. Her and Auntie were so close,
that although I'd like to believe she had no part of what had
happened to me, in my heart I knew she was part of it.
She
was very solicitous about my earrings. With little fuss she helped me
clean and care for the rather painful earlobes.
Tim
gave my earrings a scornful look, but was obviously under orders not
to tease me, so I got off lightly perhaps.
°°°°°°°°
After
an uneasy day at school, spared any questions, but not spared pitying
or disapproving looks I came home to be presented with a list from
Aunt Julia.
Step-mum
held the papers in her hand whilst addressing me in her 'these are
the rules and no question' tone.
“There's
some cost to your..er...treatment as Pastor John said. You did
understand that” she questioned as if to a small child.
“Yes,
yes” I answered for the best.
Now
Julia has been very gracious and paid for everything, and I expect
you to thank her for that next weekend.
I
nodded vigorously, feeling like it would be like thanking my hang
man, but I was far too fearful even to hint at my thoughts.
“Now
she's prepared to shoulder the cost of the Ferry crossings and the
redecoration and fitting of your room, and your food and board.
Because these are things she'd naturally afford to her nephew.
However, in accordance with the wishes of Pastor John you will have
to personally repay all costs associated with the welfare and upkeep
of...of” she hesitated how to describe the pathetic creature I had
to become at Auntie Julia's, “..of your other persona”
“Auntie
Julia's niece shall we say” she added with almost a giggle.
“By
paying as your real self you will better learn the cost of the
selfish shallow young lady that your poor soul inhabits.”
“Now
Auntie Julia has itemized the costs so far. They are quite
considerable, but do not worry we will seek a way to repay every
penny.”
She
handed me the list.
I
glanced at the lines and lines of items and the staggering total
cost..two thousand two hundred and sixty-eight pounds and twenty-four
pence.
“But..but
I can't pay this” I blurted out close to tears.
“We
will find a way, and starting tomorrow you'll be doing two hours
housework for me each evening for which you'll be paid more
generously perhaps than you deserve.”
“Anyway,
Pastor John suggests we go through the list and agree each item so
that we can be sure you understand the cost of your other self.”
°°°°°°°°°
Salon
Trixie -
Treatments
-
Depilation
(hair removal) 58,90
Temporary
Hair Extensions 48,90
Manicure
and varnish 25,00
Pedicure
and varnish 25,00
Makeover 39,99
Piercing Free
Sub
Total 172,79
Sales
-
14
carat gold ball earrings 40,00
Nail
varnish – Coty Blush Peach 15,00
Mascara
– Maybeline Infinity Soot Black 10,00
Lipstick
– Maybeline Peaches and Cream 25,00
Lip
Gloss – Revlon Ice Pink 15,00
Sub
Total 105,00
Tip
- 10,00
Total 287,79
Lingerie
and hosiery
Bra – La Perla –
Sophie – 36AA White 28,90
Panties - La Perla –
Sophie – Medium White 22,30
Bra – M & S -
Junior Miss – 36AA Peach 20,00
Panties - M & S
Junior Miss – Small Peach 15,00
Bra – Debenhams –
SixTeen – 36AA Jade 27,90
Panties – Debenhams –
SixTeen – Small Jade 18,90
Panties – Debenhams –
SixTeen – Small Jade 18,90
Bra – Debenhams –
SixTeen – 36AA Midnight 27,90
Panties – Debenhams –
SixTeen – Small Midnight 18,90
Panties – Debenhams –
SixTeen – Small Midnight 18,90
Camisole - Debenhams –
Enigma – Medium – Floral 28,99
Underslip – M & S –
Fantasy – Medium – Cream 22,00
Tights - M & S –
Sheen 15 denier – Carbon – Medium 4,99
Tights - M & S –
Opaque 20 denier – Midnight – Medium 5,99
Tights – Debenhams –
Elegance – 15 denier - Nearly Black 7,80
Tights – Debenhams –
Elegance – 15 denier - Nearly Black 7,80
Total 295,17
Footwear
Flats - Miss Selfridge –
Sweetness Ballet Flats - Size 6 Cream 25,00
Flats - Miss Selfridge –
Sweetness Ballet Flats - Size 6 Aqua 25,00
Heels - Miss Selfridge –
Culture – 2 inch heels - Size 6 Slate 28,99
Boots - Debenhams –
Elegance Boots – 2 inch heel - Size 6 Black 59,99
Slippers - M & S –
Slippers – Pretty Miss – Wedge – Size 6 Pink 14,99
Slippers -M & S –
Slippers – Pretty Miss – Wedge – Size 6 White 14,99
Total 168,96
Nightwear
Nightie - La Perla –
Miss Retro Baby-doll & Panties – Med – Black 79,00
Nightie - La Perla –
Miss Retro Baby-doll & Panties – Med – Pink 79,00
Nightie - La Perla –
Miss Retro Baby-doll & Panties – Med –Blue 79,00
Negligee - La Perla –
Miss Retro Negligee – Medium – Pink 49,00
Dressing Gown - M & S
– Fluffy Girl - Dressing Gown – Med– Pink 24,99
Total 310,99
(I
have to admit to having been a little carried away with regard to the
pretty nighties, so I'm willing to donate them to my 'niece' as a
gift)
Less
237,00
Total
73,99
Outerwear
Coat - Debenhams – Jr
Miss Parka – Size 12 – Salmon 79,99
Jacket – M & S –
Bolero – Size 12 49,99
Dress – M & S –
Sunshine Sundress – Size 12 – Floral 28,00
Dress – M & S –
Elegance Lined A line – Size 12 – Teal 68,00
Dress – Monsoon –
Tropics with underskirt - Size 12 – Floral 119,99
Dress – Debenhams –
Rouched Denim Pinafore– Size 10 – Navy 59,99
Dress – Miss Selfridge
– Satin Slip Dress – Size 12 – Peach 35,00
Top – M & S
Sleeveless Tee - Miss range - Size Medium – Cream 20,00
Top – M & S
Sleeveless Tee - Miss range - Size Medium – Navy 20,00
Top
– M & S Sleeveless Tee - Miss range - Size Medium –
Slate 20,00
Top – Monsoon -Gypsy
Angel – Size 10 – Floral 49,00
Skirt – Monsoon –
Rouched Silk – Size 12 – Taupe 59,00
Skirt – Debenhams –
Sweet Charity Denim – Size 12 – Blue 35,00
Skirt – Miss Selfridge
– Downtown Check – Size 12 – Black 39,00
Skirt – Miss Selfridge
– Downtown Check – Size 12 – Grey 39,00
Total 721,96
Accessories
Hair Bow - Clares –
Pink 1,99
Hair Bow - Clares –
Black 1,99
Scrunchies - Clares –
Pack of three - Red 2,99
Handbag – Debenhams –
SixTeen – Floral 59,99
Purse – Debenhams –
SixTeen - Marilyn - Multi 35,00
Scarf – Miss Selfridge
– Pirate - Black and White 9,99
Gloves – Miss Selfridge
– Pirate - Black and White 8,99
Scarf – Monsoon -Silk
Tribal – Multi 59,99
Hat – Monsoon - Wool
Beret with Beads – Cream 17,00
Broach
– Debenhams - Silver Butterfly with Stones - 79,00
Necklace – Clares –
Barbie Pink - 12,99
Hand Mirror – Clares –
Barbie Pink - 3,00
Total 292,92
Cosmetics
and Toiletries
Perfume - Chanel 19
Parfum Spray 50ml 67,50
Body Lotion - Chanel 19
Body Lotion 200ml 39,00
Body Lotion - Nivea Body
Care 250ml 9,00
Hand Care – Nivea Hand
Care 100ml 8,00
Moisturizer – Clarins
Gentle Day Cream 36,00
Moisturizer – Clarins
Gentle Night Cream 42,00
Shower/Bath Gel –
Chanel Chance Eau Fraiche 200ml 33,50
Soap – Soft and Gentle
- 5,99
Shampoo – Salon Science
Bundle 28,00
Conditioner – Salon
Science Swiss Apple 12,00
Mascara – Revlon
Fabulash 8,99
Lipstick - Boots 17 -
Stay Pout – Rule Breaker 4,49 Lipstick - Boots 17 - Stay Pout –
Date Night 4,49
Lip Gloss – Dior Addict
- Lip Maximiser 22,50
Lip Liner – Clarins -
Lipliner Pencil – Nude 17,00
Blusher – Dior Diorskin
– Nude - Coral Sunset 40,00
False Lashes - Kiss Haute
Couture - Multipack – Flirt 19,00
Cosmetics Kit – Miss
Cutie Pie 29,99
Total 427,45
FULL
TOTAL 2268,24
The
boy will
pay this off through honest hard work. I have not included or intend
to charge for the decoration and furnishing of my niece's new
bedroom, or any of the new bathroom and bedroom linen I've had to
purchase, or food and lodging. I truly hope the boy appreciates the
cost of this easily exceeds this bill. He also needs to appreciate
that for a young lady such as my niece this is the bare
minimum
of wardrobe and cosmetics. If my niece succeeds in matching her
purchases to her character there
will be
considerably more expense on clothes and make up. I expect my niece
to buy at
least
one new item each of lingerie, footwear, outerwear, accessories and
cosmetics each weekend. Plus once a month, should the situation last
that long, she would want to buy a new item of nightwear and jewelry.
If she doesn't pamper herself in this fashion then she will not be
the spoilt shallow girl we expected, and Pastor John will be
informed. I
trust the boy understands the meaning of this.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
I earnt a bare sixty
pounds doing housework for Step-mum that first week. Normally this
would seem like a fortune, but the thought of working to buy stupid
tights and lipstick was too much to bare.
That Thursday evening she
handed me 'my wages' in five pound notes, then took all but five
pound back. “You keep this” she said firmly “ and the rest
should go to pay back your poor Auntie don't you think?”
“Yes”
I nodded sullenly.
“So..”
she counted the notes..” fifty five pounds...and the bill was?”
“Two
thousand, two hundred, and..and something” I offered.
“
Two
thousand two hundred and sixty-eight pounds and twenty-four pence”
she added sharply.
“..So
less fifty-five pounds leaves..erm... two thousand two hundred and
thirteen pounds and twenty-four pence.”
She handed me a cheque
book. I looked inside and was surprised to see my name in the
details.
“..I
took the liberty of getting a cheque book for your bank account. How
much is deposited in the account do you think?”
“About
three thousand pounds” I replied not quite following her meaning.
“Three
thousand five hundred pounds to be exact.”
It seemed a fortune to a
teenage boy but really my father had left me very little.
“Take
a look at the first cheque dear” she commanded.
I thumbed through and saw
in her handwriting the sum of two thousand two hundred and thirteen
pounds and twenty-four pence made out to Miss Julia Grant.
“Sign
that then dear then you can give that and this cash to Auntie on
Friday night.”
“But,
but..but it's..it's my inheritance?” I felt tears well up.
“And
your inheritance is more important than saving your soul?” she
asked pointedly.
“But
I thought I'd have time to pay..you know, to work it off..not pay
now.”
“Well
you thought wrong, and selfishly, like a silly self centred girl you
never thought how your poor Auntie Julia was going to pay for all
these things”.
Poor Auntie Julia was
loaded, well at least according to Timmy he was. I was too frightened
to say this.
“But
if I had time to pay it off” I pleaded.
“Well
you have time to pay off anything new your cousin decides to buy”
she replied, with a slight smirk on her face at the word 'cousin'.
“But
it's my inheri..''
She cut me short..”And
if you work hard you'll still have some inheritance, there will be
well over a thousand pounds left dear” she added in a tone reserved
for simple children.
She handed me the pen.
I signed the cheque in
stunned silence. I'd just bought a wardrobe of dresses, a drawer full
of lingerie, and a vanity table of cosmetics.
“Your
soul will be saved through this hardship God willing” she added
softly, patting my head and sealing the cheque and notes in an
envelope marked 'To Auntie Julia for all my cousins lovely things,
with thanks.'
“I
hope I hit the right note with the little message” she smiled.
“Yes”
I answered sullenly accepting the envelope.
°°°°°°°
Sometimes crazy Aunt
Julia actually leaves me in peace and I'm sat on the patio thumbing
through a women's magazine, because it's all I have to do to break
the boredom, and I do sometimes read an article that's quite
interesting really not too girlie. I get absorbed then suddenly
spring back to realization that to my shame I'm quite at ease all
gussied up in tight bra, stupid panties, clingy tights, silly
sundress and painted face. My painted nails almost accusingly scream
at me as I quickly fold the magazine shut.
These moments come too
often, and sometimes I have a stupid feeling that Felicity actually
has a much easier life than Robin. She actually does practically
nothing except try to look pretty and dress and make herself up.
Whereas Robin has school and has to work for her stupid pretty
things. Also, and it's a very uncomfortable admission, but Felicity
isn't shunned and despised like Robin. I mean people think she's
empty headed, too fussy and girlish, but they accept her, but poor
Robin tries so hard and everyone either despises or pities him.
From day one Auntie Julia
said I had the choice to either pretend to be a girl, or she was
quite happy to tell everyone I was a boy who chose to dress like a
girl. It was a horrible choice, but better to seem to be an empty
headed girl than some freaky pervert boy in girl's clothes.
On the island only Trixie
at the salon knows my secret and she's such an old friend of Auntie's
she'd never tell. The only other people who know are Mother and
Timmy, and Pastor John, but they don't visit too often, so everyone
around me thinks I am just that empty headed clothes hanger of a girl
I appear to be.
I little appreciated the
consequences of this choice to voluntarily pretend to be a girl. Yes,
I wasn't shunned and nobody suspects my deception, but it made it so
much easier for Auntie Julia to drag me further and further into this
stupid feminine trap. Forever I'm expected to do what Felicity would
do, to choose what Felicity would choose, until I almost naturally
choose the girliest, prettiest, or most expensive choice each time
I'm asked.
And the only way to
pretend to be a girl and not get caught is to behave, talk, and think
like a girl, until...well until you hate yourself for being so weak
and feeble. And when you are back in school although you try so hard
you know you are beginning to sound and behave more like a big girl
each time you come back from the island.
And, sleepless in my
stupid baby-doll and prissy matching panties, face smeared with night
lotions, surrounded by the clutter of my room, the dolls and soft
toys, my cosmetics ranked so neatly along the vanity table, the two
wardrobes and chests of drawers bulging with frills, silk, and frou
frou, it's in that almost dreamlike, or nightmarish state, that I
actually start to imagine I am Felicity, and Robin is somebody else.
It happens too when I'm
Robin. I find myself in class seething about Felicity's spending and
worrying how I'm going to pay for it all. They make me write her
notes, and she writes back. I thought it stupid at first, but lately
as Robin I really feel I am pleading for her to be more responsible.
°°°°°°°°°°°
This terrible ordeal has
made me begin to accept you can get used to anything if you are
forced to and it keeps on happening.
I blushed scarlet and
literally trembled all over the first time Greg 'helped' me through
my morning bathroom routine. I pleaded him to let me manage on my own
at least, but he firmly though kindly insisted he had to help or
'Auntie' would have his 'guts for garters'.
The thought of a grown
man seeing my naked body was nightmarish enough, but to see me naked
and actually help me to submit to the degrading tasks I was forced to
perform was too much.
I cried all through. He
was as nice and as gentle as he could be, he helped dry my eyes and
blow my nose, and held my trembling hand a moment whilst I
'collected' myself. But he remained resolute and insisted on
assisting me carry out everything Auntie had shown him.
I died a thousand shames
as he handled me and prodded me just as thoroughly as Auntie. But
that first time was finally over, I was a little shaky and tearful
all day, he did his best to keep me cheerful. The next time was a
little better, and a little better after that.
It's two weeks later and
it's still the least favourite part of my day.
I still blush pink as he
offers a hand to help me out of the foaming scented bath he'd ran for
me earlier. But he quite matter-of-factly envelopes me in the soft
fluffy bath towel and pats me dry very thoroughly.
Removing the towel once
more revealing my nakedness he briefly brushed his hand between my
legs. I still flinch ever so slightly.
“What
a good girl” he says with what I think isn't his intention to
offend me. “….tucked all night even after your bath sweetie.
That's three nights in a row, auntie will be so pleased when I tell
her.”
I manage a faint smile.
It's thoroughly humiliating to parade myself in front of a grown man
with barely a hint of maleness showing between my legs, and now
acutely aware and self-conscious of my now obviously swollen and
budding breasts on display. However it's a huge relief not to have
the even greater humiliation of this grown man's strong hands
manipulating my diminished manhood firmly and securely back into my
body cavity.
Calmly and methodically
he began to dust me down with my scented talc, all over my body,
under smooth armpits, and a little ticklishly around my bottom and
groin.
“Bend
over the bidet now sweetie” he said calmly and efficiently as he
had every morning.
I duly bent over gripping
the hand rails as I had before. I heard him taking the device from
the cupboard, then running water and the sucking sound as he filled
the douche.
This was easily the worst
moment of my morning. Bottom in the air, helpless and anticipating
the worst indignity poor Felicity had to suffer.
Despite myself I felt my
bottom clench a little as I heard the large glob of lubricant squidge
onto his hand. Silently his hands pulled my legs a little wider. This
only made me tenser I often thought.
He was breathing heavily
as he often did when preparing my daily douche. I'd wondered if maybe
it was hard work, or he simply just hated doing it. It couldn't be a
nice thing to clean a boy's bottom. Once before I'd offered to do it
myself, it wouldn't be easy but would save me being so humiliated in
front of him, and save him doing something he maybe didn't like. But
he was extremely insistent it was something he simply had to do and
wouldn't hear of me doing it myself.
I flinched a little as I
felt the nozzle being presented. He pushed gently to test resistance
but obviously wasn't satisfied. I braced myself.
“Sorry
Princess” he breathed.
Two hard smacks rained
down on my bottom. It was Auntie's little trick to untense me, but
perhaps because Greg was more gentle he had to resort to it more
often. One more hard smack to catch me 'off-guard' and I felt him
more firmly push the nozzle against my opening. It was slightly
painful an instant , then a bit like having a big poo, only in the
opposite direction, I felt the nozzle glide in and be gripped by
bottom muscles.
He breathed more heavily
as he slowly glided the nozzle a little back and forth as he slowly
squeezed out a little more of the foamy liquid. Auntie used to squirt
bigger amounts of liquid at each thrust, which I could feel more
distinctly. Greg was gentler, I felt just little squirts at a time.
The only thing was it took Greg such a lot longer, maybe thirty or
forty strokes. I'm not sure, I never count.
A final squirt and a big
sigh form Greg, and the nozzle squeezed free, for a brief moment
leaving my bottom feeling empty, before in a fraction of a second he
deftly pressed home my plug. The plug was larger and often caught my
breath.
“Sorry,
was I a little rough Princess?” he asked his voice a little shaky.
“No,
no” I lied for his sake.
He easily helped me stand
again, his arms firmly around my slim waist.
He turned me around. The
plug always felt like a huge penetrating foreign object when I moved.
He carefully sat me down on the bidet his hand placed all the time on
my wet bottom.
I sat a moment. We both
seemed to be getting our breath back.
“Ready
sweetie?” he asked sympathetically.
I nodded, head bowed the
hair in my eyes at least saving me meeting his gaze.
With a deft movement he
firmly and quickly pulled the plug free. This always made me gasp
like a stupid girl as I felt the strange empty feeling in my bottom
for just an instant before totally beyond my control the soapy
contents of my bottom poured forth into the bidet.
As the last dribbles ran
out of my gaping bottom, I felt the soothing gentle spray of warm
water from the bidet. Greg always got the temperature right. No cold
sharp spray like at Auntie's.
He never rushed me or
scolded me as I sat there like Auntie sometimes did.
“All
clean sweetie?” he asked, his voice much more back to normal.
I nodded still cutely
aware of the pathetic sight I was, crouched and naked on the bidet.
His firm hand took mine
helping me stand. Without a word I felt him thoroughly wiping down my
sore bottom with wet wipes.
“I'm
afraid Daddy has been a little careless sweetie.” He said
apologetically.
“It's
alright Daddy” I said trying to be sympathetic because I knew he
did try.
I wasn't even sure of the
distinction between a 'careless' and a clean douche, other than one
meant a risk of soiling or wetting my panties so I'd need
'protection', and the other meant I could put panties on without
protection.
Greg more often that
Auntie was careless, but I knew he did try to take care, whereas
Auntie didn't seem troubled whether I needed protection or not.
He took the pack of
Tampax Pearl from the cupboard, then proceeded to guide me over the
bidet again, I bent over and he spread my legs a little further
apart.
“You're
still a little dilated sweetie so this shouldn't be too
uncomfortable”.
I felt the cold plastic
insertion tool against by bottom, then the tampon glided in quite
smoothly. I felt my bottom muscles grip the intruder, but it was no
way as uncomfortable as my plug.
“There,
there, all done” he said helping me stand up straight again. I felt
the tell-tale tampon string tickle the top of my legs, but the
tampon, whilst far from unobtrusive inside my bottom was nowhere near
as uncomfortable as the plug when I moved around. Although I'd still
be glad to be free of it later in the day.
“Now
you won't forget to tell me when you need to freshen your tampon or
withdraw it will you dear?”
“No
Daddy I won't ” I replied blushing a little despite myself.
He took a last look in
the box before putting back in the cupboard. “Looks like you'll
need some more tampax soon baby.”
Not exactly what a boy
needs to hear. I just nodded.
“Sweetie...”
he sounded a little embarrassed “Tampax aren't something your poor
Daddy feels comfortable buying for you darling. You wouldn't be a
sweetheart and buy some next time we go to Boots, it's not a man
thing I'm afraid” he grinned.
“No
it's alright I will” I said, slightly uncomfortable at him
forgetting I'm male too.
“Now
these are Tampax Pearl in….” he looked the packaging over, I
cringed a little that he was drawing out this particular
conversation..” in regular size. Are they right for your darling?”
I really did blush now.
“Yes, yes thank you Daddy” I said dutifully.
“I
was wondering..” he looked uncomfortable now..”if you might be
more protected in a bigger size..they do a Super...the Regular are
maybe a little loose now?”
“Err,
I don't know” I stammered just wanting this conversation to end and
actually looking around for the day's fresh lingerie honestly keen to
move the morning routine on and escape this subject.
“Well
maybe buy a pack of each Princess. How's that?”
“Yes,
yes” I blushed.
“There,
sorted” he said with a smile, putting the box of tampons back in
the bathroom cupboard, and to my utter relief terminating this
excruciating conversation.
After that the spectacle
of him watching me do my make up dressed just in stupid panties, and
a push up bra which make my breasts feel huge, is mildly embarrassing
by comparison. To the same degree as the difference I felt between
the first time he douched me, and today. First time it was almost
unbearable, now it's just a painful indignity. And I'm sure he's not
a bad man, it could be worse I suppose.
°°°°°°°°°°°
Very soon Greg was around
morning and evening without fail, and often seemed to find some
reason to spend time at Auntie's in the day.
I felt very confused
about his presence. On the one hand I was deeply ashamed for a man to
see how pathetically and obediently I was confined to my feminine
state. On the other hand he was a little warmer than Auntie, and I
felt he actually had some sympathy for me. He was in the church so
never criticized my treatment but I sensed he at least sometimes felt
sorry for me.
°°°°°°°°°°°
The Easter holidays were
something of a turning point, mostly for all the wrong reasons.
Returning to school after
nearly three solid weeks as Felicity I felt even more of a freak than
before. Not only could I not seem to make my hair very much less
girlish than Trixie had managed at the salon, but after all that time
mincing and speaking quietly it was actually a conscious effort to
behave boyishly and it obviously showed. Horrible things were said
behind my back and I was shunned more than ever.
I knew that only the
intervention of the Principal at Pastor John's request saved me from
far worse treatment from fellow pupils, and teachers too come to
that. Nevertheless I cried myself to sleep that first night replaying
in my mind the cruel whispered words of former friends.
Worse still my chest had
swollen even more. Whether it was all that time wearing a bra
everyday or not, but my sensitive nipples seemed to want to pop out
of my school shirt. Stepmother never actually said anything but
provided me with a tight fitting old fashioned vest which I now
gladly wore under my school shirt to hide my embarrassment
Pastor John said that my
'budding breasts' were a good sign of the 'convergence' of my
tormented soul and body. He wasn't as yet sure of the significance of
my 'bust'. He wasn't certain whether my mortal body was mocking my
corrupt soul, or whether my corrupt soul was mocking my mortal body.
Either way a spiritual battle was in hand and he praised my efforts
to initiate this battle. He said he would seek God's wisdom on the
true meaning of this development.
I usually failed to fully
understand what Pastor John meant most of the time. His sermonizing
and intellectual style of speaking was difficult for a teenage boy to
follow, and nobody ever dared ask him for any explanation. However,
deeply humiliating as my swollen chest was, I was glad that somehow
or other it seemed to convince Pastor John of my efforts to purge
myself of my corrupt soul. I sincerely hoped it might mean an end to
my struggles was in sight.
It was a relief to get
home from school even in the strict and cheerless company of my
Stepmother and Stepbrother. My two hours of prayer and bible study
which once was a dull chore was now a relatively peaceful release
from the day's torment. I began to wonder if perhaps I was winning
the battle against my corrupt soul after all, and this is how it felt
to be truly good.
Somehow I began to dread
each weekday morning and a return to the stares, hidden sniggers, and
looks of contempt. School at first was a release from my torment, now
it was just another torment.
I certainly did not look
forward to my miserable weekend with Auntie either, but to my utter
shame my loathing for school was fast becoming a very close second to
the loathing for my time as Felicity. Secretly I knew that being
Felicity was despite myself very gradually becoming preferable to my
time at school, as later events proved, but my male pride wouldn't
yet let me admit that. Painful as school was I forced myself to hold
on bravely to my remaining vestiges of maleness.
If I ever bothered to
analyse it my 'boy' life was hard. The loneliness and harsh isolation
of school, the coldness of Stepmother and Stepbrother, the hours of
bible study and prayer, and the worry of my growing debts all made my
boy time tough. My 'girl' life was admittedly a series of petty
humiliations and indignities, however even Auntie was warmer then
Stepmother, and Greg, although he filled me with confusion, was a
kind of a friend, possibly my only friend. I was pampered and
spoiled, if not always in a way teenage boy would prefer, but as long
as I fulfilled the empty, girlish, even lazy behaviour expected of
me, little more was asked of me, and I had no 'worries' as such.
But as a teenage boy
those petty humiliations and indignities outweighed all else, and I
rebuked myself severely if I ever found myself comfortable as that
empty headed girl. But despite myself, and increasingly frequently, I
would catch myself unconscious of all my feminine finery just like
the big girl I was meant to be pretending to be, blissfully passing
my time almost happily sometimes. I'd suddenly snap out of it, chide
myself, then burst into a fit of self pitying tears, which in awful
consequence made me feel even more painfully weak and girlish.
°°°°°°°°°°°
I glanced over the
mathematics questions. They were far simpler than those I'd face at
school. This was going to be easy, I thought, and I'd been given a
whole hour to do them. I'd have time to spare and could use the time
to read more of that Nancy Drew and The Thirteenth Pearl mystery
novel. Yes it's a girlie story but I'd like to know how she escaped
being kidnapped.
It had been a horrible
few days and at last I was feeling much happier. As a 'school master'
Greg was obviously going to be very easy on me if this work and the
other lessons he'd discussed with me were anything to go by. Also I'd
have plenty of time to do as I pleased with not a lot being asked of
me.
I was starting to feel a
warm and safe glow I'd not felt for some time.
Suddenly, as if my
conscious mind had abruptly kicked in I became aware of my true
situation as I glanced at my painted nails clutching that silly pink
Biro. My god, I was sat there tucked firmly in tight lily-white lace
trimmed panties, a humiliating fresh white tampax stuffed up my poor
bottom, a lacy wired bra firmly holding in place my pathetic budding
breasts. I was a vision of schoolgirlness in my new Saint Mary's
pinafore dress, thin white blouse beneath, a striped Saint Mary's
school tie tied in a ribbon at my neck, clingy opaque grey tights
pulled firmly up to my waist, black heeled Mary Janes on my feet, and
a rather inconvenient off white deep lace trimmed under-slip under
the skirt of my pinafore dress which had a habit of declaring it's
lacy hem with appalling regularity.
My face was covered in
foundation, blusher, eye shadow, mascara, and lipstick, all of which
I'd dutifully and ably applied myself after so many hours of
repetitive practice. My well brushed hair was drawn tightly over my
scalp and tied into a flowing ponytail with the most feminine of
white lace ribbons. My ears pierced as they were with delicate pearl
studs now burnt red in indignation. Feeling tears begin to well in my
eyes I attempted to sniff back the impulse to cry, only to breathe in
the demeaning floral scents of perfume and talc I'd so liberally been
saturated in that morning.
I reached into my
pinafore pockets for that stupid pink 'handbag size' pack of tissues
as the tears of self pity began to flow. My chest heaved in the
confine of that ridiculous bra, as the pink tissues were smeared with
incriminating soggy black mascara. Lately I cried more often than I
would ever want to. However today with the awful realization of my
resigned feelings of contentment when I was so passively confined in
yet a new version of my feminine imprisonment the tears seemed to
know no limit. The flood gates were truly open, and it seemed that
the guilty shattering of that fleeting seductive sense of comfort in
the midst of yet another concession to my ruthless feminization
really shook me to the core. Every ounce of self pity poured in tears
down my face, my whole body heaved in emotion.
I must have been wailing
too, because after a few minutes Greg entered the room his face a
mask of concern.
“What's
wrong princess?” he asked holding my hand and dabbing my eyes with
my tissues.
I heaved a little more
when I struggled miserably to think how I could even begin to explain
how I was feeling. All morning I'd dutifully succumbed to the false
air of normality we adopted whilst I was subjected to the multitude
of indignities my treatment involved. How could I now explain the
pain of every single one of those indignities.
He looked me hard in the
eyes, he obviously expected an answer.
Between tears I struggled
to explain, I couldn't manage a sentence, and mumbled incoherently,
further frustrating myself.
“The..the
clothes..” I stumbled, vaguely waving the hand he wasn't holding
over the skirt of my silly pinafore..”the..the...tampax” I added
a little more boldly..”too much..too much” I wept.
He clutched my other
hand, seemingly in recognition of what I was saying.
“Oh
you poor thing” he said softly, releasing a hand to wipe away
another trickling tear from my face.
“You
should have said princess. I only chose a 'super' because you seemed
quite dilated. You should have said earlier you were uncomfortable.”
“Really
there's no need to suffer like that “ he added briefly brushing my
fringe away from my face.
I felt empty from the
tears. He'd misunderstood me and focused on that one hateful word
'tampax'. With miserable acceptance I was almost relieved that he had
failed to understand me. Explaining how I truly felt meant not only
having to painfully vocalise my every indignity, but more importantly
I guiltily tried to submerge my very strong reluctance to break the
fiction that I accepted my treatment and his kind attentions helped
me to do that. What a pathetic creature I was to dress and act like a
big silly girl and not complain in case I hurt this man's feelings.
“Now
now Felicity, no more tears” he soothed as he helped me to my feet.
He rarely used the name Felicity, preferring the suggestion from
Auntie of Princess or Sweetie. Whenever he did call me Felicity I
unaccountably always felt considerably weaker and submissive.
“We'll
run a long and pop in a fresh 'regular' tampax, and get you all
cleaned up and pretty again, and Auntie need never know about this
need she?” He added conspiratorially.
I nodded weakly, letting
his strong arms guide me up the stairs to my room.
