Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Sissy Story Archives (older stories) => 2011-2018 Sissy Stories => Topic started by: DaraJaney on September 20, 2018, 04:37:44 PM
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Joe was fed up with life in Victorian Liverpool. Although just a young teenager he was working on the docks. With the British strict class system his prospects of ever getting anything better were slim.
He often heard that life was much better in the United States. People from poor backgrounds could lift themselves up there. But there was no way he could afford a ticket on the sailing ships that took people to America. He had a plan though.
Somedays he got work on the small boats, bring supplies out to the sailing ships. He decided he could stowaway. He knew the risks were great. He’d heard of stowaways being found and simply being thrown into the sea – lucky to be thrown a plank of wood to cling to.
He got an opportunity one day to sneak below decks and find a cupboard to hide in. It was full of rope and paint tins and he could see out through the slats in the door.
He observed as a lady was shown to her cabin on that corridor and had her cases moved in by a porter. He noticed some baskets of food being brought in too.
The ship set sail and shortly after leaving the docks the lady left the room presumably to take some fresh sea air. He carefully sneaked into her room and looked around for the food. He was hoping to build up a stash. He was rummaging in one basket when the door opened.
He looked up and saw the lady there. She jumped with the fright but quickly closed the door behind him. “Are you a stowaway?” she asked. She seemed a little excited by the thought. Joe considered denying it but why else would he be looking for food in her cabin. He thought it was better than being considered a pure thief. He nodded and must have had a look of panic in his eyes.
“It’s ok. I won’t report you if I don’t have to”, she told him. He relaxed a bit but wasn’t sure what she meant. She appeared to have an idea. She smiled at him. “Of course if you are found out, they will throw you overboard. Are you a good swimmer?” She could tell from the look on his face that being thrown overboard was not going to go well for him.
“Well, if you do as I say, then there would be no need to tell them. You could sail all the way to New York and not be found out.” He was intrigued.
“My daughter was supposed to travel with me but she got sick yesterday and can’t travel. My sister is looking after her and will send her on as soon as she recovers.” Joe was puzzled. What did this have to do with him?
“I have got one trunk of her clothes with me though and a spare bed in this cabin”, she told him, tapping the trunk in the corner of the cabin. Joe still had no idea what she was getting at. “I could disguise you in her clothes and you wouldn’t get caught.”
Joe stared at her wide-eyed. Dress as a girl? There was no way he was doing that! “Thanks Lady but I don’t think so”, he sniggered. Her face turned pompous. “Well I shall have to turn you in then.” Joe held up his hand “no please don’t”. Being thrown overboard would be the death of him.
She smiled. “Well then, you know what you have to do.” She opened the trunk and Joe looked down at the pretty dresses folded neatly inside. He winced.
She took out a blue dress with white lace trimmings and held it up in front of him. “This should fit nicely.” Joe sighed heavily. “Or I can turn you in”, she said heading for the door. “No! Please don’t”
He had no choice but to do as she said. He removed his shirt. “You’d better wash first” she told him gesturing towards a basin and jug. She made him strip down to his underpants and then wash. She gave him a towel and helped him dry.
Then she threw the blue dress over his head and pushed his arms into the sleeves. Joe couldn’t believe he was in this predicament as she buttoned up his dress at the back. It wasn’t what he had envisaged as a stowaway. He had seen himself cleverly concealing himself during the days on the voyage and nipping out at night to find food.
She reached down into the trunk. She pulled out a pile of white cloth. When she flapped it all out it turned out to be three layers of petticoats.
Joe gave her a pleading look but she arranged the petticoats under his dress and tied the sash at his back. Then she produced a pair of long bloomers with rows of lace above the ankles. Joe squirmed on seeing it but could do nothing to protest.
He looked in the mirror and saw how his skirts and petticoats came to just below the knee showing off the rows of lace on his bloomers. He wanted to cry.
She slipped boots onto his feet. They had a slightly higher heel than he was used to. Then she took a large bonnet from the trunk and placed it on his head tying the ribbon under his chin in a big bow. “There!”
She turned him to the mirror again. He winced at how convincing he looked as a girl with his boyish hair hidden by the bonnet. There was no way he was dressing like this! He turned around determined to confront her to see her gather up his boy’s clothes into a neat bundle. She went to the side of the cabin. He assumed she was going to put them in a drawer but she reached for the handle on the porthole. “No!” he pleaded and tried to run towards her but his heavy petticoats and heels slowed him down. She threw his clothes out the port hole into the sea!
His jaw fell open as he realized that his clothes were gone. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. This pretty dress over layers of petticoats and his lacey bloomers and bonnet were the only clothes he had now! He tried to remember how long the voyage was due to last. Eight weeks in good weather somebody said. He squirmed and clutched his skirts nervously.
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This is yet another super unique take on this kind of scenario from Dara Janey and I can't wait to see where it goes. :) You and the other active authors right now are making Betty's a very exciting place to refresh each day. Thanks!
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Be still my heart,another. Kisses and hugs sweetie.
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“So you are now my niece, Emily Fairweather. You will curtsey when anyone addresses you.” Joe gave her a puzzled look. She demonstrated. He clutched his petticoats and tried to imitate it, almost falling over. She tutted and made him practice in front of the mirror for twenty minutes or so before she was satisfied. When he raised his petticoats, even more layers of lace on his bloomers were exposed to view.
“Let us get some fresh air now”, she told him. He froze. He was going to have to go out in public dressed like this! “Please no! Can’t I stay in the cabin?” “Nonsense, you can’t stay in the cabin for the whole journey. She gave him a pair of white gloves with lace around the cuffs. “Come along now!”
He had one despairing look in the mirror when she opened the door and cringed as he had to walk towards it. His wide petticoats caught in the door and he had to pull them through. His new aunt led him down the corridor to the stairs.
He stopped at the bottom of the stairs unable to see the steps due to his petticoats. She ascended without much difficulty. Joe clutched the hand rail and stepped forward trying to judge where the first step would be. He fumbled his way up a few steps before missing one.
Clutching the hand rail he heard footsteps below. He looked down and one of the crew men was at the foot of the stairs looking up. Joe winced as he realized the view the man must have up his petticoats.
He scrambled up the last few steps quickly to get away from the crew man but arrived out in the middle of the dozens of people on deck. This was it. He was out in public in his blue lacey dress and layers of petticoats. He could feel the sea breeze flutter the lace on his bloomers. He had to put a hand on his bonnet to stop it blowing back off his head. If it did his boyish hair would probably be obvious to everyone and he would be exposed.
He hadn’t much fancied being thrown overboard in his trousers but if he was jettisoned in all these petticoats he would sink to the bottom like a rock!
A lady came towards them and smiled at his aunt first. “Good day! And who is this pretty girl?” Joe cringed. “This is my niece Miss Emily Fairweather”, she replied smiling at Joe. He gathered his skirts and curtsied. “Oh how darling! That is a very pretty dress.” Joe was in despair. Mrs Fairweather nudged him. “Thank you”, he muttered in as girlish a voice as possible and he curtsied again. His aunt smiled so he was relieved that he must have got that curtsey right.
They moved on to his temporary relief. The captain was the next one strolling along. “Mrs Fairweather!” he greeted her. “I thought your daughter was unable to join us.” “Captain! My niece, Miss Emily, was able to travel with me instead.” Joe sighed inwardly and then curtsied. “What a pretty little girl!” Joe saw him take in his exposed frilly bloomers with a smirk.
They walked on until they came across an open deck. There were children playing there. Joe noted that all of the girls were wearing much plainer dresses than he was and no bonnets. When they looked up they stared at his frilly dress. They inevitably looked down at his frilly bloomers and smirked. His bonnet was clearly just as amusing. He tried to ignore the looks and concentrated on holding his petticoats down in the wind that whipped across the deck.
One of the mothers engaged Joe’s ‘aunt’ in conversation. Once again he had to endure remarks about his pretty dress and curtsey quaintly while trying to smile. Mrs Fairweather addressed him “Emily”. He didn’t react. “Emily!” He suddenly remembered that that was him! “Yes aunt”, he squeaked, curtseying. “Would you like to play with little Beatrice here?” Joe looked at the little girl playing with her dolls. She looked up and smiled sweetly.
It was about the last thing Joe wanted to do but he smiled and curtsied and went over to the little girl with her dolls. He knelt on the deck being careful to settle his petticoats.
Beatrice handed him a doll. “This is Betty.” Joe tried to smile. He had no choice but to take the doll. He had no idea what to do with it. He tried to recall what he had seen stupid girls doing with their dolls. “Would you like to brush her hair?” Beatrice suggested, proffering a toy brush. Joe accepted it gratefully and held his doll up and started brushing her hair.
He heard tittering behind. Because of his bonnet he had to turn his head right around to see the women behind him. His aunt was particularly pleased to see him clutching the doll and playing like a little girl. “Shall we go and get some tea?” his aunt suggested to the other lady. “The girls will be fine there playing on their own.” “Yes indeed. Beatrice could play with her dolls for hours!” They walked off leaving Joe desperately wondering how he could convincingly play with dolls for hours if need be.
When they returned about an hour later the children were having a tea party with the dolls. Joe couldn’t see them approach because of his bonnet and was daintily holding a cup to his doll’s mouth. “Oh isn’t that sweet”, his aunt commented. He turned and looked up and his face went bright red within the frilly lace of his bonnet. His aunt was delighted.
He gave her several looks pleading to be freed from the mortifying doll’s play but she had no intention of going anywhere and settled down in a deckchair to enjoy his embarrassment.
Beatrice put Joe through his paces. He had to dress a doll and brush its hair. His aunt looked on delighted that he was being forced to act like a girl and she had no intention of releasing him from his predicament.
Joe sat there feeling mortified but unable to show it as he had to pretend that he was enjoying playing with these dumb dolls. He wondered why on earth he had decided to stow away. He could be back home now jumping into the canal and swimming with his friends. Instead he was playing with dolls and wearing a frilly dress with petticoats, lacey bloomers and bonnet and steaming across the Atlantic, stuck on this ship for weeks with only pretty dresses and frillies to wear.
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Even though I too am a sissy, I can not get the hang of playing with dolls and bored after only a few minutes.
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me too even as a sissy dolls r not my thing. although if Mistress says i must then i do. However, being in Joe's position would keep the young lad on his toes to make sure he is not caught.
Looking forward to more when you have the free time to continue. I love your stories.
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It seemed like an age before Joe’s ‘aunt’ finally stood up and allowed him to get away from the sissy girl and her dolls. He was so relieved to get back to their cabin and out of the mortifying public gaze.
Later on his aunt popped out for a breath of fresh air before nightfall and came back quite excited. “Wonderful news! I’ve just met a lady who is a governess and I’ve engaged her to give you lessons for the rest of the journey. She can teach you to be a proper girl so you won’t be found out!” Joe sank further into his chair in despair.
The next day she dressed him in a flouncy yellow dress, similarly resting on layers of petticoats with matching bloomers peeking below his skirts and an even larger bonnet which did not restrict his view so much but had many more layers of lace trim. There was a knock on the door.
“That will be Miss Hardbuckle.” His aunt opened the door and Joe froze as the stern looking women walked in wearing a grey dress. She held eyeglasses up to her eyes and studied Joe in his yellow dress. Joe tried to do his best curtsey but was terrified under the woman’s stern gaze and wobbled a little.
“Yes well, I’m sure we can improve on that curtsey with plenty of practice.” Joe looked at the floor nervously, resting his hands on his petticoats. “Very well. Let us start with some sewing lessons!” “Excellent”, his aunt was pleased. “I will leave you to it then. I will return at lunch time.”
Joe winced. Four hours under the tuition of this stern woman! “Now sit down child”, she ordered. He sat clumsily in his seat with his petticoats ballooning up around him. “Good heavens! I think we will need a few hours of deportment practice first. Stand up!” Joe stood quickly and tried to smooth down his petticoats. His aunt smiled and left him in the capable hands of his new governess.
By mid afternoon after two hours of deportment training and another two hours attempting to learn sewing Joe sat disconsolately contemplating several weeks under Miss Hardbuckle’s tuition.
He was now under the constant watch of his governess who was diligent to a fault. So everywhere he went he had to maintain the deportment of a well tutored girl or risk her wrath. After a week of this he was drilled into flouncing daintily in his petticoats, curtseying to anyone he met and lowering his eyes demurely on encountering any males, hiding behind the frills of his bonnet.
The boys on board were the bane of his life. They constantly lingered behind him whenever he went up stairs or steps sniggering as they glimpsed more layers of lace on his bloomers. He tried to control his petticoats but the sea breeze frequently got the better of him and the wide spread of his skirts were practically designed to catch as much wind as possible. With one hand required to hold his bonnet in place that left only one to hold his dress down and the boys were regularly given more thrills.
He was made to wash twice a day and got into big trouble if he got a mark on his clothes or hands. He came to dread going near the boys on board who were dirty little rotters by comparison. The boys realized this and teased Emily terribly. Jumping out when least expected and laughing as Joe yelped and scampered off clutching his petticoats, determined to keep his dress spotless.
His governess made him practice his sewing by getting him to add more frills and bows to his already elaborately decorated dresses, bonnets and bloomers. And when he wasn’t under her instruction he had to play dolls and skipping with the real girls onboard. It was clear that the more plainly dressed girls found his frilly dresses and bloomers just as amusing as the boys did. They seemed to have an inordinate fondness for getting him to play with his skipping rope endlessly, presumably amused by the flouncing of his petticoats and frills on his bloomers.
He couldn’t wait until the journey was over and he would be free to discard his dresses and get back into trousers and have an adventure roaming the streets of New York.
Despite a strong wind he insisted on going up on deck as soon as land was sighted. He held his bonnet and petticoats as tightly as he could and smiled at the imminent end to his ordeal.
When the ship came by the dockside, Joe watched from the deck. His aunt had made him change into his best pink dress, bonnet and matching bloomers, adorned with lots of extra bows he had sewn on just the day before. There were lots of street boys rushing towards the mooring place. He smiled as he watched them run and jostle each other. Soon he would be able to jettison these mortifying frilly clothes and run with the boys.
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Oh what a nice imagine! Your story is written very beautifully! But do his new aunt just let him go?
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I highly doubt that his aunt has any plans of letting him go, especially since he's done all that time with the governess. Then again, he might struggle to return to his old life anyway after those weeks of having feminine deportment and such drilled into him. All the same, I don't believe his aunt will let him escape her clutches. I can only assume that he will still be in her control when her daughter finally comes over. To be fair, though, he was looking for a new life in the U.S. and he's undoubtedly found it.
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But then Joe saw that the jostling among the boys on the quayside had turned nasty. Fist fights broke out. Joe noticed that all of the boys had bruised and scarred faces and arms. Their clothes were in tatters and they were all skin and bones. He began to think that maybe he had over romanticized the idea of being on the streets of New York. His governess scowled at the scrum of boys. “Come along young lady you must get your things from the cabin.”
As Joe approached the gang plank, still under the watchful gaze of his aunt and governess, men were beating the boys back with rods trying to clear a safe passage for the arrivals. Joe could see bloody noses and it looked like one of the boys had broken an arm.
He was pushed down the gangplank by those behind him. He couldn’t see the steps beneath his voluminous petticoats. He clung desperately to the rope with one hand as he felt his way in his high heeled boots while the other hand held on to his bonnet in the breeze.
The scrum of boys shoved forward just as he reached the quayside. Joe clutched his skirts afraid that the filthy and bloody boys might soil his pink dress or bloomers. Something like that would get him into trouble with his governess and he wasn’t quite free of her just yet.
Joe grimaced as the boys snatched out in front of him before being beaten back. He scampered behind his aunt who was heading for a coach. He was desperate to get in but had to gather his petticoats, climb the steps and force the layers of petticoats through the narrow door. The boys behind were treated to a fine display of frills right up the legs of his bloomers as he leaned in.
He was relieved to be seated in the coach. His aunt and governess squeezed in the same side. Joe had to gather up his petticoats to make room. A lady sat opposite and smiled at the frills on his bloomers. “What a pretty dress!” Joe winced inwardly. Not long to go now. His aunt nudged him. He smiled as sweetly as he could and squeaked “Thank you” before hiding behind the wide brim of his bonnet, looking out the window.
He watched as the streets went by. Each was full of vagrant boys just like those at the dockside – running and fighting and filthy. They had to run another gauntlet of street boys when they arrived at their lodgings. Joe almost fell down the steps of the coach as his petticoats finally lurched through the door. Once again he had to clutch his petticoats to escape the hands of the street boys before rushing in the door to a very welcome peace and quiet.
Once the governess had left them, his aunt called him into her bedroom. There on the bed were a set of boy’s clothes. A shirt, trousers, socks and shoes. Joe was practically salivating but remembered to curtsey.
“So you are no longer beholden to me. You are free to go back to being a boy and take your chances out on the street.” Joe winced, thinking of the violent rabble he had seen. He would be no match for those boys – especially having spent 8 weeks flouncing around a ship in frilly dresses, bonnet and bloomers, spending half the day sewing and the other half playing with dolls or skipping.
He so desperately wanted to get out of these dresses and into those trousers. “Do I have to go out on the streets?” he asked meekly. “That’s what you wanted wasn’t it? That’s where you would be if you had successfully completed the voyage as a stowaway, isn’t it?” He couldn’t deny it.
She saw his hesitation. “Or you can continue to be my niece Emily at least until my daughter gets here. But you have to be totally obedient and do what I say and wear what I choose.” Joe cringed. He could get back into trousers but he would be beaten to a pulp by those young vagabonds. Or he could continue to mince around in frilly dresses and be well fed, sheltered and looked after.
Joe clutched his petticoats nervously. He wouldn’t survive on the streets. “Well which is it?” She wasn’t giving him time to think. He lowered his head demurely hiding behind the frills of his bonnet. “I don’t want to go out on the streets”, he muttered. He couldn’t bring himself to say that he preferred to wear dresses. “Well then you have to ask nicely and show me your best curtsey.” Joe winced.
He gathered his petticoats and gave a deep curtsey. “Please may I continue to be Emily”, his voice wavered at the end of this mortifying request. “And do you promise to be completely obedient”. His mind thought about the consequences of this. How many even frillier clothes did she have for him? “Yes”, he curtsied again just in case.
She gathered up the boy’s clothes while he looked on whistfully. She was clearly happy to have a ‘girl’ to fuss over. “So let us go to the nearest hairdresser and have your hair put in pretty ringlets.” Joe swallowed hard. She looked sternly at him for a response. “Yes Aunt”, he curtsied again.
When he returned to the house his hair which had grown over the voyage was pressed into firm ringlets which dangled by his eyes and from beneath his bonnet. He was wearing a brand new apricot dress that his aunt had bought him to celebrate their arrival in New York. The rows and rows of frills on his dress danced constantly even in the merest breeze. He dragged along five layers of petticoats which he desperately tried to hold down to hide the lacey hearts sown into the side of the legs of his bloomers. She had found even higher heeled boots that forced him to take cute little steps.
As he approached the house he saw a half dozen filthy, bloody and starving boys with their heads recently shaved. He suddenly appreciated his pretty dress with all its accessories and was even grateful for his ringlets. He hated being dressed up like this but it was better than the alternative he saw before him.
When he went in the door his aunt turned to him. “So do you like your pretty new dress and ringlets?” “Yes”, he responded, smiled faintly and curtsied. He winced slightly at the weight of his extra petticoats but restored his smile just in time. His aunt was clearly pleased. She could see that his faint smile wasn’t as forced as usual.
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BRAVO!another exciting episode. Well done, my mind's eye image could see every detail. dirty boys, beautiful petticoated dresses, ringlet curls.. SO EXCITING!
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Well, that's an angle I didn't quite anticipate. It seems that Joe's finding more enjoyment in this than we thought he would, or he's at least grateful to have a roof over his head.
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Oh my god! What a luck for him, that he had drop this lady. I think he could give his gratitude a little more expression.
I`m curious about the sequel!
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“Or you can continue to be my niece Emily at least until my daughter gets here. But you have to be totally obedient and do what I say and wear what I choose.”
It does not seem to be a permanent position.
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“Or you can continue to be my niece Emily at least until my daughter gets here. But you have to be totally obedient and do what I say and wear what I choose.”
It does not seem to be a permanent position.
What's the fun in that though? Besides which, she says "at least" until her daughter arrives. His residency could certainly continue beyond that. Plus, it's easier said than done for a boy to escape his sissy fate in most stories on this site.
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He could end up being adopted by his strict governess and trained to be a maid. May not find being a girl quite so tolerable without a rich auntie to give him so many pretty dresses to wear. :)
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Maid is the most obvious choice, I'd love to see something different.
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After seeing how the rough lower class boys are surviving on the street, i think auntie has quietly got him to choose to continue living as a girl. I agree once Emily arrives he may find himself in a position of a servant girl
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I wonder if Emily might not make it (boat sank, sickness, whatever the cause) which leaves him to stay as a permanent replacement with a good life and big inheritance. A sad but happy ending.
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Unfortunately for Joe his governess was further engaged to educate him in girlish ways. It was months since he’d worn a pair of trousers. Every morning he lay in bed looking as his frilly dress for the day hanging on the back of the door, his matching bloomers draped over the back of his chair and his layers of stiff petticoats which could actually stand on the floor on their own! His bonnet was on a stand by his bed, keeping its shape. It took a lot of effort to get out of bed, get dressed in all those frills, smile sweetly when people told him how pretty he looked, curtsey for everyone and behave like the perfect demure girl for his governess.
His aunt was keen to establish herself in New York so they went on almost daily visits to neighbouring houses. Joe was always dressed to impress and had to endure endless compliments for his pretty clothes. He hated all-female company the most because his aunt was only too happy to mention the embellishments he had been obliged to make to his bloomers and make him raise his skirts to show her new friends. “We’re all girls here!” she enjoyed saying, watching his cheeks go even rosier.
He dreaded walking along the streets with his aunt. Street boys were always a menace and they were a constant reminder to Joe as to why he was flouncing along in a frilly dress watching them cautiously through his dangling ringlets.
On one occasion he lost his aunt in a store and looked out on the street to see if she had left. He was quickly surrounded by a gang of boys. He tried to re-enter the shop but they had cut him off. As they came closer with their grubby hands he clutched his skirts “Please don’t touch my dress!” he begged them. The boys just laughed. One of them reached forward and pulled loose the ribbon tying Joe’s bonnet. Joe gave a little girlish squeal and jump and tried to retie his bonnet which was tricky with his lace-trimmed white gloves on. The boys laughed even more.
Joe spotted a constable. “Please help me constable”, he yelped, waving his white glove in the air. The boys scattered as the constable approached. Joe was so relieved. He curtsied to the policeman. He had never before given such a heartfelt curtsey. His mother appeared from the shop. “There you are! What are you doing out here?” A much chastened Joe flounced along behind her.
One morning his aunt told him that her daughter, Isabelle, was on her way from Liverpool. She didn’t say what would happen to Joe when Isabelle arrived but he assumed that he only had a couple of months left in her dresses. He looked in the mirror as he arranged his petticoats and wondered was she finally going to throw him out on the streets in boy’s clothes? Much as he desperately wanted to be a boy again he still knew that he couldn’t survive out there – especially after months flouncing around as a sissy girl!
He felt a certain fondness for his yellow dress as he buttoned it up and fluffed out the lace trimmings. He checked the mirror – not too many layers of lace visible on his bloomers. He gathered his skirts, sat at the dressing table and started to primp his ringlets. He didn’t want to be late for his governess.
As Isabelle’s arrival approached his aunt told him that they would be moving to a more permanent residence. As they were out walking one day she said “I have to ask you”. Joe looked up through the lace of his bonnet. “Do you wish to go back to being a boy and take your chances on the streets?” Joe answered her by clutching his petticoats nervously. “Well you could be Isabelle’s maid.” Joe didn’t know what to say to that. “Thank about it.” “Yes Aunt.”
Of course Joe could never bring himself to say that he would prefer to be a girl’s maid than a boy again but his aunt understood and simply took his silence for assent. A few days before Isabelle’s arrival they moved into the new bigger house. She showed Joe to the maid’s room at the top of the house. It was, of course, undecorated, with just a metal bed, wardrobe, wooden chair and table.
She opened the wardrobe and there were two black dresses hanging there. There was just simple lace trim on the ends of the sleeves, collar and hem. Joe looked down at his pink dress with its layers of lace and thought “getting out of these sissy frocks at last!”
His aunt opened a drawer and took out what looked to Joe like a sleeveless white blouse. It was a corset. She made him put his arms through and started lacing it up the back. She paused to pad out the top of it with bunched up cloth and then resumed the lacing. She tugged on the laces until Joe protested and then tied them in place. “That’ll do for now but we’ll need to get that tighter.” Joe couldn’t believe that it would go any tighter.
She then ran a curious belt around his tight waist which had four straps hanging from it. Next she produced black stockings and made him put them on. She showed him how to attach his stockings to these straps. It had a most curious feeling when he walked! The stockings shifted slightly with every step.
He only had to wear a single stiff petticoat which was also a relief and his bloomers had just a lace trim around the leg openings. The ringlets had been let fall out of his hair which he now had to pin up under a white mob cap.
As he examined the finished product in the mirror he was so relieved to lose the sissy colours, pretty frills and weighty layers of petticoats. If it wasn’t for this damn corset! He winced as he tried to draw breath.
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Lovely Dear, thanks so very much.
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Fear and uncertainty keep many of Us behind our closeted doors. One can only imagine being in another Country with no place to call home. The front door can be terrifying.
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Thank you Dara Janey! I love your Story! I feverlishly awaiting for your continuation each time!
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When Isabelle arrived she was introduced to her maid. Joe curtsied – which he had become suitably expert at. Isabelle smiled kindly. Not surprisingly she was wearing a pretty pink dress just as elaborately frilled as any of Joe’s former wardrobe. She came with two further trunks of clothes!
It was one of Joe’s chores to help her dress every morning. It was awkward seeing her in her frilly undies before he had to help her on with her petticoats and dress. He kept his eyes on the floor which was appropriate for a submissive maid anyway. Once she was dressed he had to help her untie her ringlets and primp them for the day ahead. At night he had to help her undress and tie up her ringlets in ribbons before going to bed.
There wasn’t too much else for him to do except make her bed, keep her room clean, take her clothes for washing and iron them afterwards. Otherwise he just needed to be ready to answer a tinkling bell when she wanted something.
Isabelle grew bored quickly. She had no friends in New York and there wasn’t much for her to do except read and play with her dolls and other toys. Joe was pressed into playing with her or reading to her occasionally but her mother didn’t approve of too much of that. She felt strongly that a maid should know her station. Isabelle was very nice to him though and they grew quite friendly.
Soon a governess was appointed for Isabelle. Joe presumed she would be as strict as his stern grey lady but was pleasantly surprised when a beautiful young woman arrived and smiled pleasantly at everyone. She looked like she could be in her teens. Joe blushed when she smiled at him and nearly forgot to curtsey. She giggled at his panicky effort. He could feel something stirring beneath his dress, petticoats and bloomers.
Isabelle loved her governess and they got on very well. She treated Isabelle’s maid well too with not a hint of superiority in her manner. She even approved of Maid Emily joining them occasionally for a game or lesson. Joe thought she was wonderful and definitely had a crush on her. But what could he do about it dressed as a maid?
As the days passed and Joe dressed Isabelle in a bewildering array of dresses he began to feel shabby in his black maid’s uniform. His former aunt insisted on pulling his corset tighter all the time to give him a more feminine figure. One morning as Isabelle twirled in her dress and her petticoats fluttered revealing the frills on her bloomers Joe realized that he really hated the plainness of his maid’s dress.
A few days later Isabelle received an invitation to a party as she was playing with Maid Emily. “Can Emily come to the party with me Mummy?” Joe was taken aback but liked the idea of a party. Life as a maid was pretty dull. “What? No of course not!” “Please! Mum!” “But she wouldn’t have anything appropriate to wear.” “But mother there is the whole trunk of clothes that came over with you. I haven’t even opened it yet. There may be something there that would fit her.” Her mother and Joe exchanged knowing looks.
When her governess weighed into the debate with her approval Isabelle’s mother conceded. The trunk of clothes was moved into the room next to Isabelle’s. Joe looked on with nervous excitement as Isabelle and her governess went through the dresses to decide which was best for him to wear to the party. He tried not to be excited at the prospect of wearing a frilly dress again but couldn’t help it.
They found the apricot dress his ‘aunt’ had bought on arrival in New York. “Oh this will be perfect!” Isabelle cried. The governess held up the dress and tugged the layers of lace straight. She came over to Joe smiling. She had such a lovely smile. His heart went pitter patter whenever she spoke to him or looked at him. “Oh you’ll look so pretty in this!” She held the dress up in front of him. Joe gave a rueful smile. It wasn’t the kind of attention he really wanted from her but any attention was nice.
They laid out the five layers of petticoats and found the matching bloomers and bonnet for his apricot dress. They left him to get changed. He was undoubtedly relieved at the chance to wear something other than his drab black maid’s dress and he was certainly physically relieved as he loosened his corset. But it was only to get dressed up in the flounciest, laciest, prettiest dress, petticoats, bloomers and bonnet. He sighed and reached for his bloomers.
Isabelle squealed with delight when she saw Joe dressed. He was more than a little mortified as her governess reached under his dress and straightened out some awkward folds in his petticoats. He felt guilty about how comfortable he felt in his pretty girl’s dress and undies compared to the nasty corset. “Now! Ringlets!” his governess announced. “Oh yes!” Isabelle agreed, jumping up and down and making her own ringlets dance. Joe smiled awkwardly – somewhat less excited at the prospect but resigned to it.
Isabelle’s mother inspected their party dresses before leaving. She couldn’t help but smile at Joe’s clear embarrassment at being back in a frilly frock. As he stood beside Isabelle he realized that he was a few inches taller than her and that this explained why he revealed so many inches of lacy bloomer in her dresses. Then the thought occurred to him that the dress he was wearing was bought for him by her mother. So she must have deliberately bought him a dress that would keep him revealing embarrassing frills. He cringed as they walked towards the door.
“We shall have to pretend that Emily is your cousin”, her mother told her in the hallway, once again giving Joe a knowing look. “We couldn’t have people thinking that she is a mere maid.” “Oh yes mummy! Come along Cousin Emily”, she giggled excitedly as she rushed towards the door. Joe gathered his petticoats and followed trying to look as enthusiastic about appearing in front of New York’s finest in a pretty dress and petticoats.
As soon as he was out the door and saw the starving boys in rags on the street he once again realized that he should feel grateful to be well fed and clothed. He actually felt a little guilty about hating his dress as he settled his petticoats in the coach and retied the ribbon on his bonnet which had slipped loose.
On arrival at the party they were led towards the garden. As they stood on the raised terrace Joe saw little boys running around on the grass. These boys were dressed in their finest which included frilly collars and white stockings. Joe remembered seeing posh boys like that in Liverpool and how he and his friends teased them for being sissies.
The boys all looked up to the terrace at the new arrivals. Their eyes went immediately to Joe’s bloomers which from their low view point must have been extensive and he could see them smirk. It reminded him who was the real sissy here and he tried to discretely push his petticoats down. He would now give anything to be dressed like those boys. They may have had the odd frill but at least they were able to wear trousers.
Joe and Isabelle were told to sit either side of her mother. It became clear that their job was to sit demurely and look pretty. When anyone came over to address them Joe and Isabelle had to stand and curtsey and blush at the comments on their pretty dresses. Then Joe would have to sit again and rearrange his bulging petticoats suitably daintily.
He got bored with this after a while and asked permission to stroll in the garden. His aunt did not seem so pleased but granted permission and he curtsied gratefully. He tried to keep his petticoats down as he descended the steps to the garden. The boys watched him with unhealthy interest from below.
He tried to avoid them but one little blighter, who he assumed was probably the host’s son, wouldn’t leave him alone. “That’s a very pretty dress.” Joe could see that it wasn’ t the dress he was looking at but had to curtsey and say thank you. “And those are pretty ringlets.” Joe sighed, curtsied again and accepted the complement but tried to move away.
The boy reached up and yanked a bunch of Joe’s ringlets. “Ow!” Joe turned around and was about to punch the little blighter when he realized that would not be appropriate for a pretty girl in petticoats. The annoying little kid was laughing in his face. Joe could see his aunt looking over. “Aunt! He pulled my ringlets!” he protested in a spoiled little girl voice. She smirked. “Now don’t be a tittle-tattle. Boys will be boys.” She was clearly pleased with this subtle teasing of Joe in his cross-dressing predicament. Joe glared at her but decided that the best approach was to gather his petticoats, ascend the steps and return to looking pretty alongside Isabelle.
He was determined on revenge though and when cream cakes were distributed later he managed to bump into the little kid just as he was about to stuff one in his mouth and it ended up wedged on his nose. Joe tried not to laugh but curtsied and apologized. Isabelle on the other hand laughed heartily at the little brat’s creamy nose.
“That was deliberate”, the boy insisted. Despite Joe’s best innocent girly face he was hauled into a side room by his aunt and the boy was accompanied by his mother. It was clear that his aunt didn’t believe Joe’s innocence and insisted that he apologise. Joe cringed but curtsied to the little boy “My apologies.” “So you admit that it was deliberate!” the boy’s mother insisted. Joe couldn’t deny it now. “I think she deserves a good spanking.” Joe looked to his aunt but she clearly agreed.
“Go over to that table.” Joe minced across. “Now bend over.” He couldn’t believe this was happening. “Now pull up your petticoats.” Joe wanted to cry as he reached back and hauled up the weight of his five layers of petticoats. His aunt helped him to ensure that the petticoats were pulled up right up over his bottom.
He knew that they would all see now that the apricot hearts on his bloomers went all the way up the sides to a large lace-trimmed heart right on his bottom. He could hear the boy’s sniggers. “Where is the paddle?” the boy’s mother asked. “Upstairs”, he answered. “Well get a servant to fetch it.”
So Joe had to stay there bent over the table, his ringlets dangling upside down holding his petticoats up showing off the pretty heart on his bloomers while the paddle was fetched. As he received his six strokes, for the first time he was grateful for all the frills on his bottom as they somewhat cushioned the blows.
When he finally got to lower his petticoats and straighten his bonnet he was forced to thank the little brat. Joe wanted to cry but gathered his petticoats, curtsied and said “Thank you.”
On returning home Isabelle pleaded with her mother to allow Joe to continue to be her ‘cousin’. As the discussion continued Joe tried to figure out did he really want to wear these flouncy dresses every day? Did he really want his hair in ringlets that had to be carefully tied up every night and untied and refreshed every morning? He thought of his maid’s corset though and his frilly dress and petticoats didn’t seem so bad. “She can have that trunk of clothes mother. I don’t need so many.” Joe remembered all his pretty dresses and bloomers from the voyage over and imagined those being his only wardrobe again. He winced but couldn’t complain.
Once again her governess agreed with Isabelle that it would be good for her to have a friend. She smiled as she looked Joe up and down in his apricot dress. He cringed inwardly desperately wishing he could appear before her as a boy as things began to stir. He realized anyway that nothing was going to show beneath all those layers of petticoats.
Isabelle and Joe were sent to play with the doll’s house while her mother continued discussing it with her governess. Eventually they were called back into the drawing room. Isabelle’s mother was sitting at her writing desk, her governess standing beside her with a lovely smile on her face.
“It has been agreed”, her mother announced. “Miss Fairley will be governess to both of you for the next two years.” Isabelle jumped for joy. Joe’s jaw dropped open. Two years in these pretty dresses! His new governess smiled her sweet smile. His heart leaped. He loved being in her company but it meant spending every day in frilly dresses, petticoats and bloomers acting like a perfectly behaved girl with his typical boy’s response to her beauty hidden deep within those petticoats.
“Come along now”, she ordered them. “We may as well get started right away with your first dress making lesson. You’ll soon be able to make your own pretty dresses!” Isabelle and Joe gave deep curtsies.
“What do you say?” her mother interrupted. “Oh thank you mother!” Isabelle curtsied again excitedly. Her mother looked towards Joe expectantly. He clutched his petticoats and gave a deep curtsey. “Thank you aunt.” “Run along now”, she ordered.
Joe caught a glimpse of his apricot dress in the mirror as they left the room. He tried to steady his rocking petticoats to minimize the frilly bloomers as much as possible and saw his own face looking back through his lacey bonnet and ringlets. He tried to appreciate that he had once again been saved from starving on the streets as he flounced off to his first dressing making class of the next two years.
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Great chapter, but it feels like there might be a missing one? Kind of seems like it time skips between this one and the last.
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You are correct sissykimmy. I don't know how that happened - perhaps the server problem lost a post or perhaps I messed up.
I have inserted the missing text at the start of the last chapter so you now have a double chapter there.
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DaraJaney,
Thank you for adding the chapter that went astray - it certainly adds to the continuity of your beautiful story.
I am eagerly awaiting your next chapter.
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A truly enjoyable continuation of the story. Thank you for your writing efforts. Just one comment, if you please. I realize that Joe/Emily is the focus of your tale but wouldn't it have also been appropriate for the boy who pulled Joe's ringlets to be petticoated as punishment? Didn't petticoating, as a corrective measure, originate in the upper classes in that time period? Thanks again for a wonderful period piece.
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Maybe the governess should be told the truth about joe/emily and she falls for him as emily and marries him and keeps him in frilly dresses for life
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As Joe spent his days under the tutelage of his new governess wearing his selection of frilly dresses, bonnets and bloomers, he desperately tried to think of ways out of spending the next two years being trained to be a polite, demure girl.
He would need help from somebody to get him out of this to avoid simply ending up as a starving boy on the street. He wondered if his beautiful governess would help him if he revealed the truth to her. He considered it was too great a risk. He needed somebody he could be reasonably sure would not tell his aunt on him. His governess would probably not risk going against her employer. And he figured that she might not take kindly to realizing that there was a boy with a crush on her under those flouncy dresses with a nasty surprise lurking beneath those petticoats.
One thing he figured was that he might be better off learning to sew and make clothes. He might be able to secretly make trousers that he could keep in the event of an opportunity to escape. One problem with that plan was that his aunt ensured that his hair was kept firmly pressed into ringlets all the time. He would have to shave it all off if he was to try and look like a boy again and then he would look exactly like a street urchin. He reckoned she knew exactly what she was doing keeping him in ringlets.
At least he could maybe make some plainer dresses that wouldn’t be as mortifyingly sissy as his collection of frocks from the trunk. And maybe dresses that would be long enough to keep his frilly bloomers out of view. So he asked his governess for extra sewing lessons. She was only too happy to oblige and he spent most of his days sitting on a couch, his petticoats arranged daintily around him earnestly practicing his sewing.
His governess kept a close eye on him though and all of the materials were kept under lock and key when he was not under her instruction so there was no chance of being able to secretly sew together a pair of trousers.
She also resisted his attempts to make a plainer dress. “There is no point in learning to make clothes just to produce a dress that could easily be bought in a shop”, she told him. “I’m sure with my help you can create a dress even prettier than you already have.” Joe cringed. That wasn’t what he wanted at all.
Much to his frustration she bought powder pink satin for the new dress he was going to make. When it came to making the skirt for his new dress she insisted it had to be a full skirt to fit over his five layers of petticoats. One plus was that he was able to make it longer much to his relief. However, she later had the idea to gather the skirt up in six places around the hem. She showed him how to do this and made him sew large pink bows where the skirt was gathered up. When he first checked it in the mirror he could see to his chagrin that his frilly bloomers could still be glimpsed where his dress was gathered up.
She insisted that the sleeves should be puffed out and showed him how to do this. Then she bought very thick lace and made him sew it on as a wide collar and trimming for the sleeves.
Next he had to learn embroidery to create a pretty pattern on the front of his dress. She bought dozens of beads that had to be sown on individually. He was now spending most of his days with needle and thread making his pink dress prettier and prettier. He kept having to push back his annoying ringlets as he bent over his sewing.
In the end there was no doubt that he had produced a dress even prettier than any he already had. “And you have the satisfaction of knowing that you made it yourself!” his governess told him. He just looked in the mirror trying to figure out if there was any way he could minimize the exposure of his frilly bloomers. There wasn’t. He really regretted asking for more sewing lessons!
Of course his aunt insisted that he wear his dress to the next social occasion which was an afternoon tea party with all the ladies in the neighbourhood. Joe had to flounce into the centre of the room, gather his petticoats and exercise a deep curtsey. His ringlets had been freshly pressed and a little pink satin ribbon tied on the end of each one.
He had to twirl and turn this way and that as the women complimented his handiwork. They closely examined the sewing where his hem was gathered up and decorated with pink ribbons. They admired the embroidered pattern on the front of his dress and smiled at his pretty puffed sleeves and felt the quality of his lace trimmings.
Joe was then required to sit demurely in a prominent chair and continue his latest sewing project as the ladies looked on. The damn ribbons on his ringlets were a nuisance but he just smiled prettily and carried on sewing as best he could.
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Thank you, Dara Janey, for another great chapter as Joe get ensnared further and further into his frillier and lacier prison of ringlets, dresses, petticoats, bloomers, and bonnets. On top of all that, he is required and being trained to make them himself.
Will he have to have his ringlets in ribbons all the time?
Will he have to have his figure made more feminine with a tight laced corset?
I'm eagerly awaiting what comes next.
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Surely Joe should have realized that it would not be that easy to escape his fate. Like Dolly Bo Peep said, his efforts only seem to immerse him further and further in his new life as a young lady.
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Pretty soon he won't want to go back to being a boy. In the time period your writing in is there any herbs to help make him more docile and femme?