Home-schooling

[DaraJaney]

Mrs Henley had a few more visits that week that threw up no surprises.  Then when she called at the Browns’, the door was answered by the mother who appeared to smile knowingly when she let her in.  She was shown to a nice drawing room.  When they sat, Mrs Henley made it clear she wanted to see Tim.  “Why don’t we have tea first”, Mrs Brown insisted.  She picked up a little bell from the table beside her and rang it.

After a few moments they could hear the click of heels in the hallway outside.  The door opened and in walked a maid.  Mrs Henley’s eyebrows raised – it was a long time since she had seen a uniformed maid anywhere – let alone one like this.

The black uniform was trimmed with white lace at the collar, short puffed sleeves and the hem.  The short skirt flared over stiff petticoats and the long legs were clad in black hose, leading down to what must have been four-inch heels.  A gleaming white full apron had well-starched lace trimmings over the shoulders.

The maid’s figure was also of note, quite a large bust was very clearly well supported underneath, a narrow waist and the petticoats were given extra flare by nicely curved hips and bottom.

The maid scampered over with arms held out at the side and the hands bent out daintily in their white gloves.  The lace at the wrists was matched nicely by the choker and headpiece pinned on top with ribbons trailing down the back.

The curtsey was deep and well-practiced, the petticoats held out so that each of the five layers could be distinguished and Mrs Henley caught a quick glimpse of what looked like lace stocking tops.  The maid was wearing heavy make-up with long fluttering false eye-lashes, scarlet lipstick and rosey cheeks.

“Tea for two”, Mrs Brown ordered.  “Yes mother”, the maid responded, curtseying deeply again.  “Thank you Timmy.”  Mrs Henley’s jaw dropped further.  As Timmy turned and minced away she saw his stockings had ruler-straight seams.  There was also a little padlock which appeared to be locking the zip of his uniform in place at the back of his neck.  Then she noticed two padlocks at the ankle straps of his high heels.

He had to bend slightly to reach the door handle and his stiff petticoats tipped up to reveal thick suspender straps with metal clasps and a quick flash of black and white frilly panties.  She reckoned such strong suspender straps were probably attached to a metal-boned corset which explained the narrow waist.

“So you can see that Timmy is not so much home-schooled as in training”, Mrs Brown told her confidently.  Mrs Henley was left in no doubt that the mother was expecting the visit, having presumably heard from another mother already visited.

“I see”, Mrs Henley responded, again trying not to look too surprised at what she had seen – keeping an open mind.  “He is no good academically.  When he was showing behavioural problems at home – refusing to help with housework and so forth I made him do housework wearing an old maid’s dress as a punishment - and to make a point.”

“I had him serve the ladies at my weekly card game.  They were amused of course but it prompted my friend Mrs Cartright to mention that her maid was retiring in six months and she didn’t know where she was going to get another maid as good.  Young ladies don’t want to be servants these days and certainly were not going to agree to wearing a traditional uniform.  So I joked that Timmy could become her maid.  She joked back that if I could train him suitably over the six months she would consider it.  We all laughed at the time.  We continued to joke about it after that evening – describing how his uniform might look – and it just took on a life of its own.”

The door opened and Timmy minced in with a tray.  He tried to bend his knees when placing the tray on the coffee table but it was low and his heels were high so he couldn’t avoid giving a flash of his frilly panties.  When he stood up again he gave another deep curtsey,  “So here we are”, Mrs Brown continued,  “Timmy is training to be a maid and if Mrs Cartright is happy with the results he will become her maid in another four months or so.  Won’t you?”  Timmy clearly didn’t look happy about the prospect but curtsied deeply again saying “yes mother”.

[Sandra B]

The plot thickens...

[DaraJaney]

“Now today’s the day for scrubbing the hallway floor, isn’t it?”  Timmy was trying to think about it – clearly not relishing the prospect.  “It’s every other day, isn’t it and you didn’t do it yesterday.”  “Yes mother”, another curtsey and Timmy went to turn away.  “What do you say?” she asked sternly.  Timmy turned back and curtsied again “Thank you for reminding me mother.”  This time he tottered away and Mrs Henley couldn’t help but smile at his fluttering petticoats and the big bow at the back of his apron with the pointed ends dangling just below the hem.

Once again Mrs Henley said that the situation was obviously unusual but she had an open mind and was interested to see how it turned out.  Mrs Brown was pleased and relaxed a little.  Mrs Henley was sure she must have been warned in advance of her visit – probably by James’s mother who would have told her of the inspector’s surprising acceptance of his unorthodox home-schooling.

They could hear the clicking of heels outside the door again and the sound of a bucket being put down on the floor.  This was followed by the sounds of rubber gloves being pulled on, water sloshing around and then vigorous scrubbing sounds.

Mrs Brown chatted away and mentioned her late husband.  “He was a handsome man.”  She picked up the bell and tinkled it.  The scrubbing outside stopped.  They could hear the rubber gloves being pulled off with a thwat and then there was silence for a moment.  Mrs Brown rang the bell again impatiently.  They heard heels clicking quickly towards the door.  Then a short pause before the handle turned.

Timmy minced across with his frilly white gloves on again and curtsied.  “Would you hand me the photo of your father?”  The photo was on the mantle piece just two yards away.  There was a brief flash of irritation on his face which she cut off.  “Now remember: a good maid gets to finish at 7.30pm – anymore nonsense from you and you’ll be in your uniform and heels until 11pm.”  Timmy forced a smile and curtsied “Yes mother.”

He went to reach up for the photo and his dress rode up again showing off his lace stocking tops and frilly knickers.  He handed the photo to his mother.  “Turn around”, she ordered sternly.  He did as he was told.  “Look at the state of those seams!”  Mrs Henley could see that the seams on his stockings were slightly tugged to one side at the top – hardly surprising given that he’d just been bent over scrubbing the floor.

“But I …” Timmy started to protest but was cut off by his mother again, raising a hand.  Mrs Henley guessed that the slight delay in his entering the room may well have been because he was checking or trying to straighten his seams but he was probably interrupted by his mother’s impatient ringing a second time.

“No talking back!” his mother insisted.  Timmy looked gloomily at the floor realising his blunder.  “You know what to get.”  “Yes mother”, he curtsied and went over to the sideboard.  He leaned forward, flashing his panties again and took something out of a drawer.  He brought it over to his mother and turned around.

She took it, stood up and proceeded to push large ball gag into his mouth.  She pulled the attached strap around the back of his head, pushing trailing ribbons of his maid’s headpiece aside as she tightened the buckle and then fixed a little padlock through it.  Timmy turned around and Mrs Henley could see that the front of the gag had a wide leather shield with four metal rivets fastened to the ball gag.  His mouth must have been held wide open over the gag but you couldn’t tell from the firm leather shield that was nicely contoured under his nose.

“Now back to your scrubbing when you’ve straightened those seams.  I think you know now that you’ll be working until 11pm tonight.”  Timmy gave a little whimper through the gag but curtsied and scampered away before he could get into more trouble.

Mrs Henley again agreed to report that everything was fine.  She would record that Tim was in training and had a job lined up in a few months if the training was successful.  She didn’t need to say training in what, they tittered.

Mrs Brown showed her out.  When they went out into the hallway Timmy was scrubbing away in his rubber gloves, his stiff petticoats tipped right up at the back showing all the black and white rows of frills on his panties.  He straightened up and pushed his uniform down at the back.  He struggled to his feet which wasn’t easy in his corset and high heels and curtsied.

“It’s all right Timmy I will show Mrs Henley out.”  Timmy tried to think about how he could get back down on his hands and knees with some kind of dignity.  “When you have finished that I want you to scrub the floor of the downstairs toilet.”  The gagged Timmy clearly didn’t like that prospect but was in no position to argue.  He curtsied again and turned to continue his scrubbing.

On his knees, he glanced over his shoulder, hoping that Mrs Henley was gone but the two ladies were still talking.  He tried to push his petticoats down at the back as he bent over to scrub again but it was pointless.  As soon as he leaned forward his fully frilly panties appeared again.  Mrs Henley enjoyed the way the lace fluttered daintily as he scrubbed.

[Baby Mac]

I really enjoy this is just mommy get more cruel.

[sissybaby34]

I am really enjoying this story, I await in eager anticipation to see what happens next....

[lovellace]

Wonderful development.  You write so well! Looking forward so much to the next installment.

[DaraJaney]

It was a couple of weeks before Mrs Henley was once again met with a knowing smile as she arrived for a ‘surprise’ inspection.  “Does Stephen Frost live here?”  “Yes come in.”  Mrs Frost led her down the hallway to the kitchen.  “So little Stefi, we have a visitor”, she announced on entering.

Mrs Henley walked in to see ‘Stefi’ in a high chair.  He was wearing a pink frilly dress with puffed sleeves that flared from his armpits over layers of petticoats.  He looked out between the thick lace frills of a bonnet and was suc-king on a large soother with a pink moulded face-guard.  A white lace-trimmed bib was tied around his neck, his hands had thick padded mittens buckled at the wrists and she could see he was strapped into the high chair with a pink leather harness.

Beneath the very short dress she could see he was wearing a very thick nappy and the nappy cover had alternating rows of pink and white frills.  His legs in powder pink tights were forced widely apart by the nappy. 

Stephen was clearly not happy to be seen in this state but just sat there suc-king on his soother - there wasn’t much else he could do.  “We tried gymslips, spanking, toddler dresses and frilly knickers but nothing seemed to bring him into line – until now that is”, his mother explained.

Stefi shifted uneasily in his high chair and Mrs Henley got the impression that his nappy might be very wet.  “Would you like to give him his bottle?”  Mrs Henley smiled and nodded.  He was bibbed and ready to go.  There was a baby bottle of milk warming in a pan of hot water on the stove.  Stephen eyed it unhappily.

Mrs Frost removed the bottle, dried it and handed it to the inspector.  She pulled Stefi’s soother out and replaced it with the large teat of the bottle.  He started suc-king obediently and winced a little – presumably at the tepid milk.

His mother explained in a little more detail her attempts at disciplining Stephen as he suc-ked on his bottle and watch gloomily as she scrapped a plate of potatoes, spinach and beans into a blender and then poured some prune juice in.  She pressed the button and after a few seconds tipped the slimy contents into a pink plastic bowl.

Baby Stefi wasn’t sure whether to get his humiliating bottle-feeding over as quickly as possible or delay and put off his sloppy lunch for as long as possible.  It didn’t really matter.  He knew he was going to have to finish every drop of tepid milk and eat every last scraping of his food.

Stephen heard the conversation between the women as he was being spoon-fed.  He learned that this lady was an official home-schooling inspector and it was clear to him that she was not shocked at the way he was being treated and dressed completely like a baby girl – in fact she seemed content with it.

There was a ring of the doorbell and Mrs Frost went to answer it as Mrs Henley carefully gathered the last few morsels from the bowl and pushed them into Stefi’s mouth.

She heard “I think he’s been wet for a couple of hours now but I’ve been keeping him for you” as they approached the kitchen.  In walked James in his gymslip, white knee-high socks and pigtails.  “Well hello”, his mother smiled as she saw the inspector.  “You’ve found another of our projects.”  The mothers giggled.

James was attempting to discretely tug the hem of his pleated skirt down and Mrs Henley wondered was he wearing a pair of his self-frilled panties.  He looked with concern at Stefi in his pink baby dress, suc-king on his soother that Mrs Henley had reinserted.  It was clear he was concerned that he might end up like that someday.

“Now James, take Stefi to the changing table.”  James shuddered a little, presumably at the thought of having to change Stephen’s nappy but he went over and kicked off the brake on the high-chair’s wheels.  He propelled the chair out the door and down the corridor.  The ladies all followed.

Mrs Frost opened the door ahead of him so he could push the high-chair into the room.  Mrs Henley followed them in and found a fully furnished nursery.  There was a play-pen, cot, changing table and rocking horse – all scaled up to suit the rather large baby in the high-chair.  It was decorated in pastel colours with lots of lace on the curtains and the pillows and duvet in the cot.

The inside wall was one gigantic mirror and James placed Stefi’s high-chair facing it and locked the wheels again.  He went to prepare the changing table while Stefi suc-ked hard on his soother, confronted again with how babyish he looked in his frilly bonnet, puffed-out pink dress, his thick nappy obvious below the short dress and made appear even thicker by the substantial frills on his nappy cover.  He appeared to be trying to tuck his legs out of sight under his high-chair but they were still prominent in the powder pink tights.