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.
Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Topic: Stowaway (Read 22114 times)
