Baroness Gloria

Baroness Gloria

or

The Amazing Story of a Boy Turned Girl

by Rhonda Wagram

I. The Trap

Margaret was really pleased with herself on this fine spring day, Maundy
Thursday of 1890, at the beginning of that carefree, peaceful period that would
later be known as "The Gay Nineties". She was in high spirits and felt in top
form. She viewed herself in the full length mirror. Even her worst enemy would
have to concede that she was beautiful, not only because with her 22 years she
had an excellent figure accentuated by a very tight corset, she also had taken
great pains to dress herself in the most fashionable and elegant way. From the
feather crowned hat with its delicate lace edged veil giving her face a
mysterious touch to the small feet shod in a pair of dainty high heeled boots
laced to just below the calves with just over four inch heels she looked as if
she just had stepped from a Paris fashion plate.

Usually she wore heels of not more than three inches, because it was less tiring
and under the long skirts the height of the heels was rarely seen, if at all, so
there really was little sense in punishing herself, but today she had a special
reason to go to the extreme. She wanted to assert a physical superiority from
the first moment of her encounter and part of it was to appear taller. And then
she expected to arrange it that he would see her legs later on and of course
really high heeled boots would certainly make him pay a lot of attention to her
looks and distract him from what was going on around him. And that was part of
her scheme.

She turned away from the mirror, giving herself a last approving look over her
shoulder and called for her maid to tell the groom to get the carriage.  On the
way to the train station she went back over the last six years, and her marriage
at 16 to a man who was almost four times her age at the bidding of her parents.
It was true, her husband would have been a most desirable suitor for many girls,
as he not only belonged to old nobility... he was a Baron actually but through
shrewd industrial investments and dealings with real estate in and around Berlin
after the war with France 1870/71, he had amassed a huge fortune that seemed to
grow endlessly.

But a girl at 16 had dreams other than sharing her time and bed with a man whose
mind seemed to function mostly like an adding machine. It was true, she had
every luxury imaginable, but she could not love him. She had come to accept the
inevitable, however, and had made the best of it. At first her husband had
thought he could rejuvenate himself through living with her and through her
love, but his advances in bed were really not encouraged by her and soon he gave
up his attempts. She had felt this unwanted relationship to be degrading and
humiliating and longed for the moment, when she would be in a position to rule.
She was by far not the submissive, shy little girl that her husband had hoped to
find.

However she finally had made the marriage a success, although not quite in the
way her husband had hoped for. She succeeded in making her husband accept her as
a kind of business partner. She had used the six years of her marriage to learn
as much as possible, taking the marriage to the unbeloved man as a kind of
school and instead of being a lover, he became her teacher, which... he had to
concede at one time... pleased him almost as much. When he had died of heart
failure the previous January, he had left her not only an immense fortune but
had given her the education to stand on her own feet and be completely
independent, a truly emancipated woman.

She had no intention to marry again, at least none of the men that crowded her
doorsteps almost immediately after the funeral. She knew that she had more money
and certainly more brains than the whole bunch of them together. And all in all,
they were the same inconsiderate brutes with the same chauvinistic attitudes
toward women. What she longed for, because she had to forego this through all of
her marriage, was tenderness, a man with an almost feminine approach to love.

She had once read a novel by a french author of the 18th century, Louvet de
Couvray, "The Adventures of the Chevalier de Faublas" and found the hero much to
her liking. He had been introduced to the ways of love by an experienced woman
while he was disguised as a girl. A man like this she wanted to possess, young
he had to be, one she still could mold to her liking.

During the first days after her husband's sudden demise she had had no
opportunity to follow these dreams, but they were suddenly revived when a
letter, still addressed to her husband, arrived, a letter sent to him by his
nephew Jean-Marie from somewhere in the provinces, telling him that he would
graduate from his school at Easter-time and that he would like to go to the
university in Berlin. Jean-Marie was the son of her late husband's brother and
his French wife, which accounted for his name, rather unusual in Germany, but
quite common in France. He had been born 17 years ago in a godforsaken little
town in one of the United States western Territories, where his father was an
engineer for a railroad company. The family had not approved of the marriage to
the French girl and had sent him abroad.

She knew of course, that this nephew existed. He had been at a boarding school
that was paid for by his uncle, as he had been an orphan for two years and there
was no money left by his parents to sustain him.  Immediately, she saw the
danger that could come from this nephew. He would have inherited his uncle's
entire fortune, had his uncle died as a bachelor, and half of it if he had not
made a will in favor of his wife. And under the will he would inherit a
substantial portion of his uncle's estate after her death. The will contained a
legacy which required that she pay for his education, and give him an additional
yearly income. She could be in real trouble, if the boy would successfully
contest the will.  Even without this, he could prove a real nuisance and hamper
her in the administration of the estate.  Fortunately, her husband had also
arranged for her to become his guardian, which she now was for about four years,
until he turned 21.

When she had looked at the photograph of the boy, an idea slowly began to take
shape. Why not try to turn the boy into her "Chevalier de Faublas"? He was
certainly the type for it. At 17, he evidently was the smallest in his class, as
the photograph showed, and he had delicate features.  The school had its uniform
modeled after the military uniforms of the times of Frederick the Great of
Prussia and the boys were required to wear their hair long in a queue in the
back. But even in this martial getup he looked dainty.

She had decided that she would try to make the boy totally dependent upon her,
much more than her guardianship allowed anyway. Thus she would not only be able
to eliminate the danger, but it could also provide her with the special kind of
lover she longed for. The idea seemed perfect and with all of her energy she had
formed a plan and immediately begun with its realization. Every step, every
detail she had carefully planned and prepared.

Today was the big day. The trap was set with herself as the bait.

"Does Frau Baronin want me to go and meet her guest or shall I accompany Frau
Baronin to the train?" the groom interrupted her stream of thoughts.

"Yes, please go and fetch him, I'll stay here." She wanted to impress the boy
with her authority from the first moment. She would calmly and majestically sit
and wait for him in the open carriage, so that he would have to look and climb
up to her.

When the coachman returned with the boy, she purposely did not see them and
turned to the boy from above only when he greeted her.

"Hello, I am Jean-Marie." He took a deep polite bow.

"Of course, and I am your Aunt Margaret. Hello and welcome to Berlin. Do you
have any bags?"

"No I packed everything into a big trunk and shipped it separately, as you had
suggested. I just have this little bag with some books and stuff."

"Very well then, give your ticket to the coachman and he shall collect your
trunk later. Now tell me, did you have a good trip?"

"Excellent, and I am not at all tired, I want to see the big city right away, I
am very excited to be here with you."

"Well, climb in and sit down."

He did, never leaving an eye off her. It was obvious that he was very impressed
by her.

"Let's go then and take a ride through the streets. I am glad you are not tired,
as I wanted to keep an appointment at my favored fashion salon and I hope you
will accompany me."

She watched him intensely and noticed that her tactics obviously were
successful. She had intended to appear to him as the most desirable woman he had
ever seen, yet give him the impression that his adoration could only be
hopeless, as he had nothing that could make him attractive to her, who obviously
had everything she could desire.

He could hardly take his eyes off her and tried to hide his impolite stare. He
had only known his uncle, and somehow expected his aunt to be of the same
generation, although he knew that his uncle had married a younger wife. The fact
that she evidently was not much older than he, took him by surprise. It opened
an entirely new world for him and he immediately adored her.

This was exactly what she wanted. He should worship her without hope. After they
started, he was silent for a moment, even appeared a little gloomy as he
believed to understand the situation correctly, but she brought him out of his
thoughts by starting to chat lightly and point out the points of interest to him
as they were passing them. He thoroughly enjoyed the ride through the city,
which seemed to overflow with people and traffic coming, going, rushing
everywhere. He never had imagined Berlin to be so big and so busy.

When they crossed "Unter den Linden", a street almost 300 feet wide with a wide
walk-way down the middle under the linden trees, he marveled at the elegant
women and men and the colorful uniforms of the officers leisurely strolling down
the avenue. To him this was life at its best and he hoped he would be part of it
soon.

II. Ensnared

Suddenly the carriage stopped and Aunt Margaret asked him to help her down,
which he hastened to do, swearing at himself that he was so clumsy not to have
thought of it himself. They entered a small store, at least it appeared that way
from the outside. Inside it opened to a large salon, equipped with beautiful
antique furniture and a wealth of oriental carpets, lighted by shaded gas jets
everywhere. One wall was almost entirely covered with the finest crystal
mirrors, and more mirrors in golden stucco frames mounted on little wheels were
around everywhere. Two or three groups of deeply upholstered armchairs were
arranged around marble-topped tables covered with fashion plates and magazines.

Aunt Margaret was greeted effusively by Madame Heloise, the store owner. She
introduced him as her nephew who had just arrived from the province.

"You will best sit down someplace and read something, this may take a while. Do
you want something to drink? I am sure Madame Heloise can arrange something for
you."

"Of course," Madame Heloise volunteered, "what do you want, coffee or tea or
some juice?"

"If you don't mind, I would prefer a cup of tea."

"Of course not, Suzanne, get the young gentleman some tea please," she called to
her help.

The two women were soon deeply involved in a discussion of the design and
material of new dresses that Margaret wanted to have made while he had settled
down in one of the large easy chairs and thumbed through a fashion magazine from
Paris. He was fascinated by the women in the elegant new fashions.

The next thing he noticed was a cataract of hot tea gushing down over him. He
yelped and jumped up. Suzanne in bringing him the tea had evidently caught one
foot in the fold of a carpet and stumbled, falling all over him with the full
cup and kettle.

Madame Heloise came rushing to the scene, chiding Suzanne for her clumsiness.
However, his best suit was soaked like a sponge with tea, and he felt the fluid
soak through to his skin.

"Quick, undress yourself and give the clothes to Suzanne. If they are not
cleaned at once, the tea stains will remain forever... I am awfully sorry, such
a clumsy girl," and turning to her "quick, help the gentleman and clean his
things, couldn't you watch out where you walked, imbecile," and to him again "go
behind this screen to undress, I'll try and find something for you to cover
yourself. Give everything that is stained to Suzanne, she will clean it."

She turned to Margaret: "I am so sorry to cause such an inconvenience to your
escort, Frau Baronin, but I'll do my best to have the things all cleaned and
pressed in no time at all."

Margaret... after Jean-Marie had disappeared behind the screen... could hardly
contain herself. She almost burst from laughing. It all had gone so smoothly,
and without any rehearsal, too. Madame Heloise, when she had told her of her
plans, had just said "Leave everything to me, I guarantee you that I shall have
him completely undressed and without his clothes within five minutes after you
come in and then we shall be able to do with him whatever we choose."

Suzanne, Margaret thought, was priceless: no actress could have played her role
more precisely and to the point.

"Here, take this dressing gown for the moment. I am awfully sorry, but I don't
have any male clothes here.  You see, I am dealing in ladies fashions
exclusively. And when you are dressed, please make yourself comfortable over
there. Suzanne will clean the mess at your table as soon as she finishes with
your suit and shirt."

With this, she handed him a silken dressing gown behind the screen.

He was reluctant to put it on at first, it being so utterly feminine with the
tulle ruffles around the neck and the bottom and at the wrists. But there really
was nothing else available and he couldn't remain stark naked behind the screen
all the time. A shiver finally persuaded him to put on the strange garment. It
was a tight fit around his waist and his stomach was well held in after he
buttoned the seemingly endless row of little round buttons from his neck to his
ankles, but otherwise it was a perfect fit for him.

He was glad that he had the tall screen to hide behind. He did not want anybody
to see his secret: During puberty, instead of growing a beard, his nipples had
grown and puffed out somehow like a girl's immature breasts. His voice had not
really cracked to a deep male register. It had changed but more than deepened,
it had gathered strength and volume. It was... in musical terms... something
between a tenor and a contra-tenor. All of this had led to terrible teasing at
the school and he did not want to be ridiculed by complete strangers even before
he had had a chance to talk to his aunt about it.

When he emerged reluctantly from behind the screen, he was greeted by "oohs" and
"aahs" from Madame Heloise as well as from Aunt Margaret.

"You look great in it my dear," Aunt Margaret stated with a tone of genuine
admiration.

"You shouldn't walk barefoot here, there may still be some fragments of glass
buried in the carpet from a champagne glass that a client broke here last week,
put on these mules, I think they will fit you."

Before he could find an answer she had already knelt down and put a pair of
embroidered mules with two inch heels on his feet, making him totter a little
bit.

"Do me a favor and come over here, please, I want to have a look at this gown."
Margaret waved her gloved hand at him.

"Madame Heloise, you have never shown this to me. I find this design very
intriguing, the full skirt with just the hint of a train, it looks wonderful.
Please, Jean-Marie, walk over to the far side again and come back to me, I want
to see how it looks in motion. --- Not so fast, you are not on a sports track
now, take smaller steps, in a gown like this you should glide, not stomp through
the room. Do it again please."

He did not know what to think or feel, his mind was suddenly absolutely empty,
he was all skin, feeling the slithering, rustling material against it, sending
peculiar sensations up and down his spine. Automatically he followed Margaret's
instructions.

It was not until he had walked the entire length of the salon for about the
fourth time that he  became conscious of his image in the mirrors on the wall,
and what he saw did not agree with the picture he'd had of himself before. He
saw a girl. Well, it was a girl with a peculiar hairdo, but there was a girl,
all right. The tulle ruffles high around his neck disguised the missing hair at
the sides to a degree and with the slim waist and the full skirt there could not
be the slightest doubt that the figure reflected in the mirror belonged to a
girl.

He was completely at a loss for what to do or what to say. One part of him
wanted to hide in a mouse hole, another part of him told him to act naturally,
as if there really wasn't anything to it, just as if he just had something on to
cover himself. But most disturbing of all, somewhere deep within him a cord had
been struck that reverberated and sent strange new feelings through him,
feelings that he had never known before. Pleasant feelings, he had to concede,
reluctantly.

He finally shook this off and managed to sit down in a chair just as Suzanne
reappeared, announcing that the stains were all gone and she had put the things
out to dry a little before she could press them. She acted as if nothing unusual
was around and busied herself cleaning the mess from the table, the chair and
the carpets. He tried again to concentrate on his reading, but his mind was
constantly distracted by the feeling of the silk against his skin. He even began
to make secret little moves to feel the silk slither over his skin again.

Aunt Margaret and Madame Heloise had gone back to their discussion and he heard
with half an ear Madame Heloise explain to the "Frau Baronin", that the gown had
been made to order for that Italian girl, that dancer at the opera that suddenly
had to leave Berlin after that scandal with the Russian duke and now Madame
Heloise was left with that gown and actually a complete new wardrobe for her on
which the duke had only made a small down-payment and of course, now that
neither of them remained in Berlin, she had no hope to collect the rest,
resulting in a heavy loss for her, because of course, all the dresses, coats,
even the lingerie had been made to measure and there were not many young girls
in Berlin, who could afford to buy at Madame Heloise's and she could not
organize a sale, as this could ruin her standing in the fashion world etc. etc.

She was still rambling about her big loss while pinning a dress on the "Frau
Baronin," when suddenly Suzanne reappeared, hurried to Madame Heloise with a
crestfallen expression on her face and whispered something into her ear. Madame
Heloise reacted suddenly with a hard slap to the girl's face and sent her out
with a flood of harsh words in French.

"Frau Baronin, I am desolate, more, I am completely desperate. I do not know how
to tell you. That stupid girl has put the shirt and the underthings of the young
gentleman on the window sill to dry and the vest, coat and trousers on hangers
and hung them into the open window and while she was here with us, some thief
must have come to our backyard and helped himself to a complete wardrobe.
Anyway, everything is gone and I do not know what to say and how to excuse the
girl."

"Well, that should not be such a big problem. I am sure Suzanne meant well and
it really is not her fault. I was going to get some new things for him anyway
and that suit really was not a thing that Beau Brummell would have cared to
wear. Why don't you send out Suzanne to buy something that will tie him over
until he gets his trunk from the station and I can really get him some decent
suits? Here, take some money."

"I am awfully sorry, but I think this is no solution to our problem; look, all
the stores have closed about half an hour ago and there is no store with
ready-to-wear men's fashions around here anywhere where I know the owner well
enough to be able to persuade him to open the store for us."

"Well then, we seem to be in a sort of fix. I had not realized that it was that
late already. And that makes it worse, because now I have to hurry.  I have a
box at the opera tonight and I can't be late, as friends will be waiting for me
there. Hmm... I have an idea! You just said you had a complete wardrobe ready
for that Italian dancer. He is wearing her dressing-gown now and it fits him.
Why not dress him in something suitable so he can go outside and I shall take
him home as a girl. He already looks like one in only the dressing-gown. That's
it, that's what we shall do. Suzanne! Suzanne, come here and help us. You caused
all this trouble, so you shall act as his ladies' maid and help him to dress."

He tried to protest that he was certainly not going to go out dressed as a girl.
But it had the same effect on the three women as if he had talked to the wall.
They were so busy selecting things from cartons and racks, discussing the pros
and cons of certain items, that they did not listen to him at all. Aunt Margaret
only turned once to him and asked, "Well, what other suggestion do you have?"

Before he could catch his breath and gather his wits to make one, she continued,
"Well, evidently you do not have any. All right, then it is settled: you will
come with me dressed as a girl."

Suzanne suddenly proceeded to strip him of his dressing-gown quite
unceremoniously and in a manner that permitted no protests. He tried to cover
himself with his hands, but he was no match for the three women who handled him
like a puppet. Luckily, they did not react at all to the twin prominences
adorning his chest.

First, they slipped a vest of the finest cambric over him. Aunt Margaret then
took his hands and held them, while Suzanne and Madame Heloise clasped a corset
around his waist, closed the hooks in front and started lacing it. He only hoped
they would finish quickly and leave him alone. However, that was still far away,
and he had quite another problem to deal with. He did not know what caused it,
the deft touches of the women or the feeling of the soft material or the sudden
mounting constriction about his waist, but his manly tool chose this worst
imaginable moment to raise its head and lift up the hem of the vest. Suzanne was
the first to notice it.

"Look who is getting curious, le petit monsieur wants to see what is going on.
But unfortunately we have absolutely no use for you at this time."

He prayed that it would just shrink away. But on the contrary, it stood up like
a barge pole and everybody around could get a good look at it.

"A very fine specimen indeed," commented Madame Heloise, "but this is no time
for play. Suzanne, squeeze it under the tip of the corset busk, then get the
strap and fasten it in front and pass it to me under the body."

Suzanne did as she was told, seemingly with reluctance and not without giving
the shaft a few soft strokes before she fastened a strong satin ribbon about two
inches wide to the corset in front and took the other end between his legs to
the back, where Madame Heloise fastened it to another buckle at the back of the
corset.

He felt harnessed, but when he looked down, his front was flat and no sign of
his manhood could be detected. He was relieved a bit, at least he was decently
covered now... or was he? Wearing a vest and a corset? Madame Heloise reminded
him of the corset immediately as she restarted the lacing with fresh vigor. He
wanted to break away, putting an end to the ordeal, but Suzanne had circled his
legs with her arms, Aunt Margaret held his hands in an iron grip and Madame
Heloise drew at the laces with a power of which he had not imagined her to be
capable.

"Please stop it, you are cutting me in half, I shall suffocate, I cant breathe,"
he wailed, but to now avail.

"Listen, young man, don't complain about a little lacing. This is what we girls
have to endure every day to look pretty for you men." Madame Heloise went over
the laces from top and bottom to the middle again, taking out another foot or
two of laces.

"But it is too tight for me, how can you know how much you can lace me down, you
didn't even measure me before."

"Experience, my dear boy. And by the way, the dressing-gown fit you and this was
meant to be worn without a corset by the same girl whose dress you will be
wearing and the dress will only fit if I close the corset to about an inch. And
if she, a frail and weak girl, would have been able to stand being laced down to
this dimension, I can see no reason why a strong and brave young man should not
be able to endure it. So stop complaining and move your body a little bit, it'll
help you and me. I will be done in a minute... only another inch and a half.
Altogether you will not be taken in more than five inches at the most. But if
you insist, I can of course close it completely."

"Oh no, please stop! I feel as if I am going to faint any second now."

He was already very subdued and could only beg.

"Just a little bit more, my darling," Aunt Margaret soothed him, and the magic
word "darling" from her gave him new strength.

"Look, it has to be done, otherwise the dress won't fit and if you have to be a
girl, I want you to be a pretty one. You will get used to it in a few minutes.
The body adjusts very quickly, you will see."

Finally Madame Heloise was satisfied and he was released from the grip of Aunt
Margaret and Suzanne. When they stepped away from him, he caught a look of
himself in the big mirror and had to admit, that the corset did wonders for
him... he had a marvelous girlish figure now. Not only was his waist minimized,
he realized that the top of the corset gave him a very realistic bosom and that
his backside protruded enticingly.

"Don't fall in love with yourself," Madame Heloise interrupted his thoughts, "we
are not finished yet." She beckoned him to sit down. He did so very slowly to
avoid any surprises caused by the tight corset. He noticed he could only sit
very straight: the corset did not allow any slouching.  Suzanne brought a pair
of the finest black gauze stockings that she rolled up his legs and fastened to
garter straps hanging down from the corset. After that Suzanne brought him a
pair of drawers, like the vest, of the finest cambric.

"Hold it a second," said Margaret, vetoing Suzanne's moves to put them on him.
"I may sound overly conservative to you, but in my opinion drawers, pantaloons,
knickers or whatever you may call them are not suitable for a young girl. They
are basically masculine items and young girls should not even think about
masculine underpants, much less wear anything that is even remotely similar. I
know there is a new trend set by rather audacious young women to do away with
these traditions and maybe they'll win ultimately, because these items can be
very practical in cold weather... however it is not freezing out there today and
I am basically against young girls wearing male underpants, even if they are as
nice looking as these."

"You are absolutely right, Frau Baronin, I couldn't agree with you more," Madame
Heloise seconded Aunt Margaret's move. "However, if there is this modern trend,
I have to be able to supply what is wanted by my customers. But of course we
shall leave them out. Suzanne, bring the petticoats."

Suzanne brought two, one silk, that was very tight around his thighs and allowed
very little leg movement. Below the knees it flared a little bit but still
allowed only very small steps. Over it came a rustling taffeta petticoat, that
had two rows of wide flounces at its bottom. Finally, the dress. It was of light
blue taffeta with thick embroidery on the bodice, narrowing toward the small
waist. It had a tight and high collar, which was kept up by small stays under
the ears. It held his neck very stiff and high. The sleeves were long and tight
but were puffed slightly at the shoulders and repeated the embroidered ornaments
of the bodice.

The bodice closely followed the lines of his body... or rather the lines the
corset had created... tightly over his bosom and the narrow waist. The skirt
accented the hips and the posterior. At its hem, the motif of the embroidery was
again repeated all around. It stopped on the floor in front and made him wonder
how he would walk in it, as it obviously was too long in front.

Finally, Suzanne put a pair of small, medium blue, high heeled boots on him,
which reached almost to his calves, buttoning them on tightly with the help of a
button-hook. When he saw the terrible height of the heels, he was sure he would
not be able to stand in them, much less walk. After Suzanne had helped him up,
however, he was surprised to notice that the skirt came just off the floor and
he could walk indeed. Well, not like anything he had called walking before, but
he could move around in small mincing steps.

The corset, the tight skirts and the high heels all worked together, making him
move in a way entirely different from anything he had done before. He couldn't
just swing his legs from the hips down, he had to move his entire body from the
waist, undulating his hips in rhythm with his thighs.  The fact that he stood
almost on tip-toes prohibited his falling from one foot to the other with every
step in the way most men walk.  Instead, he was forced to keep his legs straight
and close together and take small steps. He actually was gliding more than
walking, just as Aunt Margaret had requested before.

When they stepped away from him, he caught a look of himself in the big mirror
and had to admit that the corset did wonders for him: he suddenly had the curves
of a real girl. Not only was his waist minimized, he really stood straight now,
not slouching anymore, and the high collar made him carry his head proudly with
his chin up.

"Come over here, let me fix your hair and pretty up your face a little bit,
though it really doesn't need much."

With that, Madame Heloise made him sit down at a table covered with all kinds of
combs and brushes and cosmetics. Again, he could only sit bolt upright. Aunt
Margaret stepped closer, watching Madame Heloise with interest. She started to
unwrap and undo his queue, brushing out his fine blond hair.

"I shall just fix it here, high on the back, and let it tumble down. Nothing
fancy is possible right now."

She took a curling iron and produced a wealth of little curls in the part
hanging down.

"Now that doesn't look too bad, or does it? All right then, now for the face. A
little blue on the lids... it accentuates the color of your eyes and goes well
with the dress... a little mascara on the lashes. That is great. Now some rouge
at the cheekbones and... open your mouth just a little... a little

"rouge de l vres" on your lips. Finally a dab of powder all over and voila: A
BEAUTY!"

"By God, you are right, she is a beauty. I never expected her to look so good.
You look magnificent, fantastic, glorious!" Aunt Margaret bubbled over with
excitement.

"But I can't call you Jean-Marie if you look like this. Let me think, I shall
call you Gloria. Just take a good look at yourself: you are Gloria... there
cannot be any doubt about it. Here," she rummaged in her purse, "here is
something that you deserve to wear. I just got it back from rethreading."

She produced a marvelous double row pearl necklace, which she fitted around his
neck.

"Isn't she pretty?" Madame Heloise asked of no one in particular. At first he
didn't even notice, that they had spoken of him in the feminine gender, because
from what he saw in the big mirrors, the creature looking back at him could only
be spoken of in this way. But when it dawned on him that they had meant him, it
made him shiver. Protests welled up within him but one look into the mirror told
him that they were right. For all intents and purposes he now was a pretty girl.

Actually, that was what he had expected to find in Berlin: girls who looked like
the models in the fashion plates. But he had not expected to be turned into one.

He looked at himself in the mirror, and couldn't take his eyes off his
reflection, as he tried to understand what had happened. It was all so unreal,
happened so unexpectedly, yet so smoothly, and there was nothing really that he
would have been able to object to. And yet, he felt that this was utterly wrong.

He was NOT a girl, that he knew for sure.  He was a boy and he wanted to stay
one. Girls were always the objects of his love and admiration, yet now... as the
image in the mirror proved beyond any doubt... there he was, turned into a girl.
He stood up cautiously, steadying himself on the armrest of his chair and then,
with the small steps that his skirts and high heels allowed, walked over closer
to the mirrored wall, watching himself all the time.

He could not avert his stare. It was too unreal to believe. Just a few hours
ago, he had come to the big city of Berlin, a young man, eager to enter a new
life of freedom, unrestrained, free from the pressures of school and small town
conventions, looking for adventures, and here he was in the middle of a totally
unexpected adventure. Unexpected because in this adventure he did not have to
fight with the outside world, with other people or with dangerous circumstances
around him. This adventure took place deep within him and troubled, disturbed
and uprooted his entire self.

He was always a boy with the tastes of a boy, acting like a boy, running around
with other boys, playing their games and sports like any other boy. All right,
he always had had trouble in games and sports, which relied on brute force and
power to keep up with the taller and heavier boys, but what he had lacked in
height and weight he had always successfully made up in agility and dexterity.
And after that stage when all boys made fun of girls and teased them, he had
begun to love and desire them.

If he had had time enough now to dig deeper into his feelings and analyze them,
he would have discovered that he had always been most attracted to the girls who
were dressed best or in a special way, either very elegantly or with a certain
knack for fashion... or what fashion had filtered down to the small town where
he had lived. He had loved to look at the fashion plates of magazines and had
pictured himself taking out a girl like the models in the plates.

He did not have time now for such reveries, however. Aunt Margaret's coachman
had entered the store and respectfully addressed himself to her.

"Madame Heloise," Aunt Margaret said after hearing the coachman's message and
sending him out again, "I fear we have yet another problem to overcome tonight.
My coachman has just informed me that the young gentleman's trunk has not
arrived yet, and is not expected to arrive until tomorrow around noon. But I
think this really should not be a big problem, after what you have created. He
just will have to remain Gloria until then.  The only question is, do you have a
suitable evening gown for her tonight? You know, we planned to go to the opera
with friends."

"But of course I have... I told you, I have an entire spring wardrobe made for
that Italian dancer and if this dress fits him, all the others must too...
naturally. There is everything a girl could wish. This Russian duke was so crazy
for her that he filled her every wish... and I tell you... did she wish!"

"Alright then, Suzanne should pack everything you have ready and have my
coachman put it into the carriage. We can select it at my house, because I have
to get myself ready, too, and we cannot stay here any longer to attend to
Gloria's needs."

"Then I shall send Suzanne with you. The shop closes now anyway and she would go
home, but after she caused all this trouble to you, she can supply her time and
act as Gloria's maid tonight or, come to think of it, for as long as you need
her tomorrow. As tomorrow is a holiday, I do not need her here."

"Splendid idea! Go ahead Suzanne, hurry up, girl!"

Madame Heloise turned to Jean-Marie. "I shall get you a wrap and a hat, so you
can go home. Here, put on these gloves in the meantime," and she gave him a pair
of small, delicate, medium blue kid gloves. He slowly worked them onto his
hands. They had long, narrow fingers and were very tight. He was afraid he would
break their seams if he made a fist.

When she came back, she fixed a little, dark blue straw hat, decorated with
flowers, on his head and pulled a veil that was fastened to the brim over his
face and fastened it under his chin. He was really thankful for this addition,
because he hoped he could somehow hide behind it. Then she stepped behind him
and held out a cape for him.

"Here, slip your arms into these armholes. This cape has some kind of inside
sleeves so it cannot slide off your shoulders if it is worn open. Just put your
arms back and I'll slip it on. There you are."

And with that, Madame Heloise pulled the cape up and over his shoulders and
immediately buttoned it in front. His arms seemed to be caught inside. They were
actually folded against his back.

"Hey, there is something wrong here, my arms did not slip out, help me out of it
please," he begged, but Margaret steered him to the exit already.

"No time for this now, you are fine, we have to hurry. Good bye now, Madame
Heloise, and thank you for your help. We shall take everything along with us and
make our selection as soon as possible and return everything we do not need
immediately," Aunt Margaret said, already walking to the door.

"Goodbye Frau Baronin. There is no hurry with these things... take your time.
And please excuse again the foolishness of Suzanne. Keep her as long as you
want."

She had put one arm around Jean-Marie's shoulders and was steering him to the
door.

They had almost reached it, when she explained, "There is nothing wrong with the
cape. It was designed this way. The duke wanted his girlfriend to be restrained
a little bit when she wore it, he loved to have her helpless and in bondage
without anybody knowing it. Your aunt can tell you all about the scandal on your
way home. Have a good time in Berlin, and tonight at the opera, and good night."

With that, she had pushed him outside and closed the door behind him. Aunt
Margaret was already proceeding to the carriage that was waiting about 60 feet
away at the curbside. Jean-Marie heard the key turning in the lock behind him,
and he knew there was no turning back.

Suddenly, he felt very lonely, and very miserable. There he stood, dressed as a
girl, not dressed inconspicuously, but rather the opposite  or so he thought. He
was afraid that everybody would be staring at him  it simply had to be that way.
Everyone surely had to see through his disguise, and there could only be two
more seconds until the whole world would come jeering at him. He closed his eyes
for a moment and waited for the inevitable to happen. He counted slowly "One,
two, three ..."

When he reached ten and nothing had happened, he opened his eyes a little, just
as he heard Aunt Margaret call from the carriage.

"Gloria! Don't just stand there and gather dust! Hurry up, get in here."

He noticed that, except for an occasional appreciative glance from a passing
man, nobody paid any attention to him. He came to the conclusion that these big
city people were too blase or too jaded to take notice of anything less
extraordinary than a calf with two heads, although he almost felt like one.

So, when Aunt Margaret urged him again, he gathered all of his courage and
slowly proceeded to the carriage, his head raised high in defiance of the cruel
world. As a matter of fact, he could not have done otherwise as his skirts and
heels forbade any longer stride and the corset and high collar kept him from
slouching or even lowering his head. But much to his surprise, nobody took any
notice of him. He was evidently accepted as a well dressed, pretty young lady,
and when he reached the carriage, his anxiety had almost left him.

Aunt Margaret had been waiting for him and helped him to mount the two steps
into the carriage. What a change it was from their arrival, when he'd had to
help her. He felt as if it had happened not just an hour or two before, but
years ago, in another century; another life.

Jean-Marie wondered where Suzanne had gone, and he nourished a small hope that
someone may have found another solution and brought him some male clothes, so
that Suzanne's coming was not necessary at all.

His hope was shattered at once when Aunt Margaret remarked, "Suzanne had too
many things with her to come with us, so the coachman sent her home in a cab.
She will be waiting for us at the house."

He tried to sit comfortably, but the moment he let himself just a little bit
down from a bolt upright position, the lower edge of the corset dug unpleasantly
into his thighs. Aunt Margaret was in her former exuberant mood again and when
they turned into the "Linden" again, she showed him the famous cafes, the
"Kranzler" and the "Bauer," and she succeeded in making him almost forget his
predicament. After a short trip, they passed the "Hotel Adlon" ("The only place
to stay if you are somebody," Aunt Margaret remarked), rode though the
"Brandenburg Gate" and turned left into "Tiergarten Street".

Aunt Margaret explained that this was a most fashionable part of the city...
lots of the foreign embassies and consulates were located here. It bordered the
"Tiergarten", a magnificent park with old trees, little lakes and beautiful
lawns that now were studded with yellow and blue crocuses. Aunt Margaret told
him that the Tiergarten was a huge park formerly just outside of the city gate,
but now right in the middle of the city that in the very last year had spread
out beyond it. It was bigger even than the Hyde Park in London, reaching all the
way to Charlottenburg, formerly a suburb, but now more and more becoming part of
the city.

He was very impressed, and would really have enjoyed the ride, had he not with
his every movement been reminded of his confining clothes. He noticed that
several gentlemen walking along the road were tipping their hats to them. At
first, he believed them to be acquaintances of Aunt Margaret, until he noticed
that she was looking the other way, and the reverences were apparently paid to
him.

After a ride of about 15 minutes, the driver turned the carriage into a big
wrought iron gate that was just opened at their arrival, and pulled up a short
driveway to an impressive building.

"Here we are, my dear, finally at home. I hope you will like it here. Welcome!"

He got off the carriage, but as he jumped down the last step, he slipped from
the step and would have fallen, had not the coachman, who had wanted to help him
get down, swiftly caught him. But instead of setting Jean-Marie on his feet, the
coachman simply took him in his arms and carried him up the few steps leading to
the front door and inside.

"Careful! Careful with the young horses, my dear. You could have broken your
ankle there," he said as he let him down on the floor and stood him up on his
high heels very cautiously. Then taking off his cap respectfully and bowing to
him, the coachman returned to the carriage.

"Now wasn't this a great entrance, being carried over the threshold of your new
home in the strong arms of a man like a blushing bride?" aunt Margaret observed
as she came in behind them, "Look, she really is blushing" she turned to
Suzanne, who had suddenly appeared.

"Go upstairs with Suzanne and get dressed for the evening.  I shall be expecting
you here shortly."

III. First Training

Suzanne took him up the curved staircase leading from the entrance hall to the
private apartments.

"These will be your rooms," she explained. He looked around and was a little
disturbed. He had expected his room to be an adequate place for him to study. A
bed, a closet, a few chairs and a desk for his work were all he had expected and
desired. But here was a suite fit for a queen... yes, definitely not for a king,
for the whole atmosphere radiated femininity.

"Madame kindly asks you to put up with these rooms. This was her suite formerly,
but after the death of her husband she has redecorated and moved into the master
suite. Unfortunately, there was no time to redecorate this part of the house
before you came. And Madame thought, maybe you like it this way and anyhow, you
can now choose for yourself what you want."

He looked around and was fascinated by the wealth and taste the rooms showed.
There was a sitting room in the style of the French Empire and a bedroom in the
style of Louis XVI with beautiful furniture, not overloaded, but just right to
feel comfortable. Big chandeliers with candles lighted the rooms, but there were
electric lights on the walls. He had never before seen electric lights. Some
very good paintings hung on the walls and a few goblins and again, a lot of
mirrors.

Suzanne led him from the bedroom into a smaller room, where the walls were lined
with closets.

"This is your dressing room and right here is the bathroom. I shall help you to
undress and give you a nice, warm bath. That will refresh you. It must have been
a long day for you, with all that travelling."

"Yes, please, get me out of this cape.  I want to be able to use my hands again.
I think I can manage the rest myself... you do not have to help me. Say, is
there nobody around who can lend me some male clothes? I do not really want to
go to the opera dressed as a girl."

"First of all, I am obeying Madame's orders and she told me to undress you and
bathe you and this is what I am going to do. Secondly, there really is no male
person here who would have your stature and whose clothes would fit you. There
is only the coachman and the gardener, and both are much bigger than you. And
thirdly, Madame would never even dream of taking you to her box at the opera in
clothes borrowed from anybody else, much less her servants. You would have to
have a perfectly fitting tail-coat and all the trimmings that go with it: stiff
front shirt, white tie, black patent leather shoes, top hat, and all. Do you
really believe a gardener or coachman would have that? And one thing more.  I
want to make things easy for you and for me, so you'd better promise me now,
before I release you, that you will obey me in everything until I hand you over
to Madame. Otherwise, I would have to summon help and call the cook and the
parlor-maid, or even the coachman and gardener. And you do not want them to know
your secret... or do you?"

"If I really have to go through this, I promise you to do exactly what you say.
I shall put things right tomorrow with my aunt."

"All right, I'll take your word for it." And she undressed him in a matter of
minutes. He felt incredibly relieved when she took off his corset.

"Do I have to wear this again tonight?" he asked fearfully.

"Oh, no, you don't. But you will wear a different one, one that goes with the
evening gown which you are going to wear."

"Is it as tight as this one?"

"I'm afraid so, because most of the gowns and dresses were made for the same
waist size... all but a few, which are about half an inch or even an inch
smaller, but you do not have to wear one of those tonight, if you do not wish
to. But your waist has already adjusted itself very nicely and if we do not wait
too long, it will not be hard to lace you into the other corset, especially
after a warm bath, which relaxes and softens the body."

"Do I really have to go to the opera? Why, I could stay here comfortably and
just wait until I get my own clothes from my trunk tomorrow."

"I would not even think of it, if I were you. Madame has set her mind on taking
you to the opera tonight and believe me, she is going to do it. If she has
decided that this is what she wants, you had better not try to dissuade her. I
have known her for some time now. Not even her late husband could change her
mind once she had made it up, and he was a tough one."

"Well, all right then... let's get it over with." Jean-Marie was in and out of
the bathtub in a few minutes. Suzanne then dried him and massaged him with an
aromatic oil, that smelled like the entire treasures of Arabia.

"It not only smells good, it gives you a softer skin and is good for the corset
marks. Now for the corset. Step over here, please. We'll just use this lacing
bar here. You do not wear a vest under this corset, as your gown will leave your
shoulders bare, so it is necessary to distribute the body tissues correctly
before the lacing, otherwise the skin will all be drawn to the back and it will
hurt."

She led him to a kind of trapeze, hanging down from the ceiling, and made him
hold on to it. He tried to protest when she strapped his wrists to it with soft
leather straps, but he was immediately silenced.

"You promised to behave didn't you?"

A moment later, he heard a whirring sound and felt the trapeze rise.

"Hey, stop this!" he cried out, but Suzanne stopped the mechanism only when the
trapeze was so high that he had to stand on tip- toes. Then she proceeded to put
the corset around him. He noticed that it was already laced rather tightly in
the back, so Suzanne had some difficulty in closing the front hooks, but after
some kneading here and there, she succeeded.

He saw in the mirror on the wall that he already had a very slim waist this way,
but she was not content and started to close the gap in the back.

"You see, first I drew the skin to the front, now it is being drawn back again
to its original position... and so it won't hurt you unnecessarily.  This lacing
bar was used by Madame very often when she went out with her husband, and I know
it is a big help."

After going over the laces again with a hook and tightening them so that only
about half an inch of the gap remained, she was content. He, however, felt again
like he was being cut in half. When she finally let him down a bit so that he
could stand on his feet again, he was determined to undo the laces the moment he
had the use of his hands again... promise or no promise. But she must have
sensed his rebellion, for she did not loosen the straps. Instead, she fastened
the strap that went under his body and flattened his maleness, though not
without giving him little caresses here and there while doing it.

He could not understand why, but since he had first worn that dressing gown in
the store of Madame Heloise, he was in a constant state of arousal, which had
only subsided a little bit in the warm water, but reappeared immediately
afterwards when Suzanne had begun to lace the corset on him. He was really
ashamed of it, as you did not show this in the presence of a girl, but he had no
control over it and the best thing, he thought, was to ignore it. Suzanne had
done the same up to this moment and, actually, it was over before one could
mention it: then the offensive sight had disappeared.

When he looked into the mirror, he saw that the lacing with his arms raised high
had caused his twin mounds (which he preferred to think of as his pectoral
muscles) to be pushed up and in from the sides, which shaped them into a quite
realistic bosom, befitting a young girl with a pretty cleavage. Next came a pair
of black open- worked stockings made of the finest silk, which reached high on
his thighs and were fastened to the corset with long garters.

Suzanne then made him step into two petticoats, one satin, one taffeta. The
satin one again was very tight around his legs, as was the one he had worn
before, while the taffeta one had several rows of ruffles going down the
backside, giving it additional fullness. As he was again not allowed to wear
drawers, the petticoats slithered excitingly over his bare backside.

Suzanne brought the dress and made him step into it. She cautiously pulled it up
until she could fasten the hooks of the waistband. Finally, she smoothed the
full skirt down carefully over his hips.

Only then did she release him from the lacing bar. With the petticoats and now
with the gown covering the knots of the corset laces, he knew he had no chance
of undoing them. So he gave in, and docilely put his arms into the short puffed
sleeves and let her fasten all of the hooks to the top. The gown was of rustling
white silk brocade with silver threads woven into the material. In front and
over the hips, it followed the lines of his body closely, but opened in the back
from the hips down to end in a large train. On any girl, he would have found it
magnificent.

Suzanne then led him to a chair and made him sit down. She showed him how to
gather his skirts and how not to sit on the ruffles, which ran down the back of
the gown. Then she put little high heeled slippers she called them "court shoes"
on him, made of the same heavy brocade material as the gown. After taking care
of his feet, she turned to his hands and arms and worked a pair of white glace
kid gloves on them, buttoning them tightly at the wrists. The buttons were so
small and the fingers of the gloves so tight that he was sure he could never
undo them by himself. The gloves reached almost to his shoulders.

"Now for the make-up. We can do a little more than this afternoon, now that it
is dark and the lights are low."

She proceeded with the cosmetics like a true professional, and in a few minutes
he saw an entirely new face in the mirror. It was the face of a very pretty
girl, tastefully made up to accentuate her best points. He did not object to
this, because he hoped that if his face was disguised well enough, nobody he met
tonight would later recognize him when he became a boy again. And anyway, if he
had to be a girl tonight, he might as well be a pretty one.

He already thought of himself as a girl, he suddenly realized. But it was the
easiest way to cope with the situation. Tonight he would be a girl, and he made
up his mind there and then, to make the most of it and enjoy himself as a girl
as best as he could. He looked at himself and was quite content with his
reflection in the mirror. He looked like a young lady coming from a very wealthy
family, upon whom no luxury was spared. The dress let the top of his pretty
round breasts, which the corset had created, bare, and showed the little valley
between them. He could almost not believe that they were his own. Somehow he was
ashamed of them, but then he liked the way they fit so perfectly into the entire
picture.

Well, he had no jewels, he thought, when just at that moment Suzanne came to him
and fastened a rather tight choker necklace around his neck consisting of a net
of pearls and diamonds about three inches wide, which again forced him to keep
his chin high, and carry himself proudly.  Then she fastened wide, white-gold,
diamond studded bracelets to each of his wrists, and finally a silver and
diamond tiara into his hair.

The mirror showed him an image of perfection, a vision, the girl of his dreams.
He could hardly turn away from the mirror. Suddenly, a pleasant shiver ran down
his spine and he knew that he would like being a girl tonight.

"Stop admiring yourself and come to me. You have to practice walking with the
train," said Suzanne, interrupting his thoughts.

She showed him how to handle his skirts and how to avoid getting caught in the
folds of the train. First, she made him walk up and down the length of the room,
turning around at each end. He almost fell at every turn, until she taught him
how to swing the train around with one foot to the back, before starting in the
new direction. She made him practice this for about ten minutes, until he got
the knack of it and did it automatically at every turn.

Then she showed him how to gather his skirts to avoid getting them caught in
obstacles, like chairs or doorways. He practiced walking up and down the bedroom
and the sitting-room, turning back and forth, walking around furniture without
getting the train caught in it, sitting down and getting up.

"If you have to walk down stairs or cross a street, you have to pick up your
train like this," and Suzanne showed him how to do it.

At first, he tried to simply bend down from the waist... as he was used to only
to detect that this was futile because the tight corset made it impossible. He
had to bend his knees and keep his body straight up, while reaching back down
with his left hand to pick up the skirts. In the beginning, he almost lost his
balance every time he tried, because the maneuver was not made easier by the
high heels he was perched on, but Suzanne was a dedicated coach, and did not
give up before he could do it quite gracefully in one, flowing and presumably
effortless motion.

Finally, Suzanne taught him how to curtsey elegantly. He had to gather his train
behind with one hand, put the left foot back, deeply bend the right knee and at
the same time put his right arm across his waist and lower his eyes.

It took about 15 minutes of intense training until Suzanne said "Well, this is
not enough for a reception at the court, but it may do for tonight."

His legs, however, felt like they would fold up any second. He was completely
exhausted and simply slumped into one of the easy- chairs when Suzanne made him
get up again.

"No time for sitting down now; later you will sit most of the time anyhow. Let
us go downstairs now. Madame will be waiting for you."

When he came down the long staircase, Aunt Margaret stood watching him
intensely. He walked down slowly, holding his skirts up in front a little with
one hand and his head high.

"You really look marvelous, and you walk like a real lady. I must compliment
you: you are a natural for these clothes," Aunt Margaret greeted him as he
reached her.

"Here, take this purse. It contains all the little things a lady might need
during a night out."

She moved closer and sniffed at his bare shoulders.

"Suzanne has forgotten the perfume. But let's go now... there is some in your
purse and we can use it while we are in the carriage. Put this cape over your
shoulders," and she handed him a marvelous white fur cape.

"You don't have to be suspicious, this one you just put around your shoulders,
no inner sleeves in this one," Aunt Margaret laughed as she saw his doubting
glance and she fastened it around him and closed the snap-hooks in front. It
came down to his knees just where the train started to open in the back. As he
walked out, he threw a sideways glance at a mirror in the hall and could not
help but admire the reflection he saw.

IV. At the Opera

It took them about 15 minutes to get to the opera house, which was on the upper
part of "Unter den Linden", close to the city palace of the Kaiser, which Aunt
Margaret pointed out to him. He found the palace very impressive, but Aunt
Margaret laughed and said "I would not want to live there. They don't even have
any bathtubs."

Just before they halted beside the opera house, Aunt Margaret dabbed a little
perfume on his shoulders and behind his ears. It was a fresh, flowery smell,
quite different from Aunt Margaret's own perfume, which was heavier, sweet and
seductive. When they finally stopped in a long row of other carriages, Aunt
Margaret urged him to hurry.

"Let's go directly to my box, we are just in time. We shall meet our friends
there."

He hurried as best as he could in his tight skirts through a crowd of elegantly
dressed people. Everybody seemed to rush and hurry. He had had the same
impression before when he had come from the train and as they drove through the
city. It seemed as if everybody in Berlin always was in a hurry.

They were expected in front of the Box by an elegant couple. He was about 30 or
32 years old, almost six feet tall, and very masculine. He had a thick
moustache, with the tips twirled upwards in the latest fashion. She was a little
younger, maybe 25, a real beauty with a slim build, about 5' 6", wearing a
beautiful gown in golden velvet. Her bare shoulders were framed by a ruffle of
narrowly pleated silk taffeta of the same color, which started at her bosom and
went all around, forming a V in the back, and continuing all the way down where
it formed a formidable train. She had a really slim waist. She must have been
laced down to about 19 or 20 inches at the most, which contrasted vividly with
her full bosom and hips.

"Gloria, meet my very good friends, Mr. Karl Becker and his friend Coco and
here, my dear Karl and Coco, is Gloria, my niece."

Everybody murmured something and he managed a deep curtsey appropriate for a
young girl without any accident. Before a conversation could start, the bell
shooed them to their seats and soon they were encircled by Mozart's music. He
had completely forgotten to ask what was on the program tonight, but he
recognized the theme immediately: Figaro's Wedding.

"How appropriate," he thought, because he immediately thought of Cherubin, the
boy who is dressed as a girl by Suzanne, Figaro's bride, during the second and
third act, first to escape a compromising situation, and then to avoid having to
join his regiment, where count Almaviva had sent him as a punishment. He loved
the music and the Berlin opera certainly had excellent singers. He almost forgot
his clothes and the circumstances that brought him there. Only now and then,
when he wanted to take a deep breath and he felt the constriction of his corset,
he became aware of his peculiar situation. He stole a sideways glance at Karl
and Coco, but they had evidently taken him for what he seemed to be a girl.

During the intermission, they all went to the buffet and had some champagne.

"You know, I would have liked it even better, if Mozart had written the part of
Cherubin for a high tenor, so that a boy could play the role. There is something
missing in the action, if you know that the boy dressed as a girl is really a
girl," Aunt Margaret observed, "I would like to see a real boy be changed into a
girl in the play."

Jean-Marie did not at all like the turn the conversation took. He felt as if
somebody had pushed him onto very thin ice. But Aunt Margaret did not let up.

"You see, the idea of the story is quite intriguing. Cherubin is a boy who
actually chooses to become a girl to avoid joining the army. I do not believe
that a normal boy could be persuaded to do this.  He must have had the
inclination to dress as a girl from the start. What do you think Coco?"

"Well, don't ask me.  You know, and you can see how I like to dress up, and I
know there are a lot of other boys who would like to do it. And, I agree,
Cherubin might actually like to be dressed as a girl and the way he is deceiving
and flirting with his Master in the last act well, it could very well be that he
likes to play the role of a girl. And maybe Mozart wrote that part with one of
those pretty castrati in mind, which were still around when he composed this
opera."

Jean-Marie thought he couldn't believe his ears. What did she just say? Who was
dressed up? Did she just say "I"? Could it be that this feminine creature was a
boy in dresses? And what did she say about other boys who liked to dress as
girls? And everybody acted as if nothing was amiss! He did not understand the
world anymore. Or was this the sophisticated big city world? He probably was
just too square to understand it all on his first night out. "I will have a lot
to learn," he thought.

He looked at Coco again, trying to find some hint that would tell him if  he had
heard correctly. Coco, who had continued her analysis of Mozart's probable
intentions, suddenly stopped, feeling his stare.

"Oh I am sorry, I didn't know that you didn't -. But of course you are new here.
To relieve your doubts and satisfy your curiosity: Yes, I am a boy, but I have
been living as a girl entirely for several years now. I like it and I want it
and I do it and I don't give a damn if anybody else doesn't like it."

"I am sure she did not mean any offense but it is probably the first time today
that she has seen such a pretty boy-girl," Aunt Margaret cut in.

He slowly caught his breath.

"Oh, no, no offense at all.  It is just that you are so unbelievably pretty, and
your dress ... and, ah ... hair and ..."

He felt perfectly boorish.

"Well, I forgive you. And just to close this topic once and for all: I am not
one of those, 'homosexuals' Freud writes about.  I do not make love with men. I
have a girlfriend, who could not come tonight, and I think Karl here is perfect
in his role as escort to me. Karl, be a darling and take me to the bar again. I
want another glass of champagne." She smiled sweetly at him and offered her arm
to be led away.

"I think you need another glass of champagne, too," Aunt Margaret said to
Jean-Marie, "Let's go and get some."

He could only follow quietly.

"I am sorry I did not prepare you for this surprise but, you see, it is not that
uncommon that a boy is wearing girls' clothes. Oh, by the way, I have not told
them about you."

During the entire rest of the performance he could not take his mind off what he
had just heard. Was it really possible that there were boys who lived as girls?
If what he had just heard was true, it must be so. But wasn't this utterly
wrong? Then he remembered his own very pleasant feelings when he was put into
the clothes he now wore. Maybe there was a similarity; maybe there were others
who had the same feelings, and maybe ...

Repeatedly he stole glances at Coco, who was sitting completely at ease at the
other end of the box. How could a boy be so feminine? Again, doubts rose within
him. Maybe they were just putting him on. But Coco had been so sincere and
matter of fact when she had spoken to him. He was completely confused. When the
performance ended and everybody walked out, he fell back behind the others, who
were chatting lightly about the performance. He remained very quiet on their way
home.

V. The Deflowering

When they reached home, he discovered that he suddenly was very hungry and was
glad when the parlor-maid who received them and took their cloaks announced that
a little supper had been prepared in his sitting-room.  Aunt Margaret joined him
in it and soon they were having delightfully prepared little sandwiches, and
drinking more champaign. He discovered that he could eat only very little,
probably because the tight constriction of the corset did not leave much room.
The champagne apparently did not need any room under the corset: it went
straight to his head and soon he was feeling quite relaxed and in the best of
spirits. He even got up, picked up his train and started dancing around the
room, humming popular tunes.

Aunt Margaret watched him for some minutes before she got up too and caught him
in her arms.

"Enough for tonight," she cautioned him, "you'll have to go to bed now. It has
been a very long and exciting day for you."

She guided him into the bedroom and started to undress him. She took off his
jewels, his dress and his petticoats, leaving him wearing only his long gloves,
his corset and his stockings. He relished her ministrations and enjoyed every
touch.

Suddenly, she tied a wide satin ribbon around each of his wrists so that there
was about eight inches of material between them. The middle was tightly knotted
to another wide satin ribbon. He did not understand what it was all about
because this really was not fettering him in any way.  She was not done,
however, and she guided his arms over his head and behind his neck. Then she
pulled the loose end from the second ribbon to the front where she knotted it
securely around his neck, hiding the knots with an attractive bow under his
chin. He discovered that she had made him completely helpless in this simple
way. He could not use his arms or hands at all.

She took him around his small waist and drew him close. He felt completely in
her power and unable to resist her in any way. She kissed him deeply on his
mouth, letting her soft tongue play around his lips and with his tongue. It was
the first time anybody had kissed him like this, but he enjoyed it immensely,
and reciprocated with his own tongue. He instinctively wanted to put his arms
around her, but the satin bondage she had put him into prevented it and made him
realize all the more that he could only give in to her.

After several minutes she broke away and started to kiss his nipples, which
already were big, hard and erect. Shivers of delight raced through him.  The
pull of the tightly gartered stockings, the constriction of his corset, and the
soft touch of his leather gloves rubbing against his neck and shoulders all gave
him an exciting feeling: he really felt like a girl now, a girl helpless in the
arms of her lesbian lover.

Margaret guided him to the bed and made him lie down. She climbed on top of him
still fully clothed and straddled him, bunching up her long skirt around her.
She moved upward until she sat on his chest, rubbing her crotch against his
nipples. He discovered that she, too, wore no drawers. He felt the soft, moist
lips of her pussy wander around and caress his hard nipples. He writhed in real
ecstasy, his whole body squirming under her. All he could hear was his heavy
breathing and the rustling of her skirts about him.

After a while, she raised herself to a kneeling position. She picked up her
skirts and covered his head with them. All was dark now. She moved her crotch
closer to his mouth until her nether lips met his.

"I want you to use your tongue now. Lick it, suck it, let your tongue play
around in it," she commanded.

He couldn't object or escape her, bound as he was, but there was nothing he
would have liked better to do, and being forced to do it just added to his
excitement. He did as she asked him and she showed him by little movements what
she liked best. It took only a few minutes until her movements became heavier
and she pressed herself against his mouth. She rubbed herself all over his face
and suddenly some liquid erupted and ran over his face. After a few moments her
movements subsided and she let herself fall back upon his chest.

When she pulled back her skirts from his face, he saw a happy, satisfied smile
on hers.

"That was very good. You are very talented. I shall reward you now."

She reached back to the bottom of his corset and unfastened the strap that held
his turgid tool captive. As soon as the pressure relented, it sprang up. She
grabbed it and massaged it slowly.

"This is my toy now. I can do whatever I please with it, can't I?" she demanded
of him.

"Yes, you can do anything at all." She raised herself again and slowly let his
prick glide into the moist warm depth of her love nest. She started to rise and
fall in a slow, even rhythm, watching his mounting excitement, driving him
crazy.

"You see, you cannot resist me in any way, and you really don't want to. You are
my captive below my skirts, the skirts of a woman, the skirts that you wore
today and will be wearing tomorrow. You will be absolutely subjected to my will
and desire from now on."

He felt like he had to rebel against this subjection, but did not have the power
nor did he wish to rebel. Actually he wished this never would stop.

She prolonged the excitement: as soon as she felt his climax nearing, she sat
down on him without any movement until he cooled down a bit and then started the
cycle again. All the time she spoke to him in a low, but intense tone, as if she
were hypnotizing him and wanted to plant her words into his mind. She spoke
about his subjection to her that he couldn't escape and that he did not really
want to escape at all.

He was almost out of his mind with pleasure. His breath came in short little
gasps now and when finally she allowed him to come, he was so exhausted
mentally, emotionally and physically that he simply passed out.

Margaret raised herself and got off the bed. She arranged her skirt and rang for
Suzanne.

"Put him into a nightgown and have him down for breakfast tomorrow at nine," she
ordered, and left for her own apartments.

VI. Start Into a Girl's Life

When he awoke, it took him some time to get oriented. Where was he? Whose bed
was he in? Slowly the happenings of last night came back to him. Was it all
true? Or were there things he had just dreamed? And which things were real and
which not? He remembered having champagne... was it all a crazy, drunken dream?

He looked around, saw the bell-rope close to his bed and decided to try it.
Seconds later Suzanne entered greeting him cheerfully.

"I was just coming to wake you up. Madame wants you to join her for breakfast in
half an hour, so we must hurry."

She pulled back the satin, down filled blanket. Too late, he tried to hold on to
it to keep himself covered.

"Come on, don't be bashful, I've seen you completely naked yesterday, so there
is no reason to hide anything today. Come on, get up now."

When he tried to jump from the bed, he discovered he was still laced tightly
into a corset, which prevented him from bending his body. He had to sit up
carefully and then glide from his bed. He wore a beautiful nightgown of the
finest muslin, encrusted with heavy lace all around his neck and shoulders and
at his hands. Suzanne put high heeled mules on his feet and pulled him up.

"Take off the nightgown... I'll loosen the stay-laces."

That was music to his ears because, standing, he felt the terrible constriction
of that awful garment again. He shed the gown in two seconds.

After letting him out of the corset, Suzanne took him to the bathroom where a
wonderful smelling warm bath already awaited him. She soaped his entire body
down with perfumed soap and toweled him dry. He felt great.

"Sit over here so I can attend to your hair."

She directed him to a chair in front of a mirror and started to curl his hair.

"Why do you do this," he asked, "Can't I wear male clothes today?"

"If there weren't any around last night, there aren't any around now.

Nothing materialized during the night. Your trunk has not arrived yet and today
is a holiday and all the shops are closed. I am afraid you will have to be a
girl again today and I'll do my best to make you a pretty one."

After about 10 minutes he had a very girlish hairdo with most of his hair piled
up in curls.

"Now you just slip into the dressing-gown you had on yesterday and off you go to
meet Madame."

He was a little afraid to see her after what happened last night... if it had
happened and he had not just dreamed it. Suzanne brought him to his aunt's
bedroom door, knocked, and shoved him in when she answered.

"Good morning my dear, did you sleep well?," she greeted him cheerfully.

She was sitting dressed in a wonderful "dishabille" at a little table covered
with all you could want for breakfast. He went over to her and answered,
greeting her with a polite little bow.

"Good Morning, Aunt Margaret."

She laughed and stopped him.

"Now this is not at all the behavior of a pretty girl. You still have a lot to
learn. Girls don't bow, girls curtsey. You know how to do that, don't you? Well
then, go back to the door and come in again."

Hey, I am a boy and she should be content with my bowing he thought. Just
because I am wearing this silly gown doesn't mean I've become a girl, he
thought. But when he looked into her face and saw she was completely serious, he
thought it best to humor her, so he did go back and returned, curtseying deeply
in a totally exaggerated way.

"Good morning, Aunt Margaret."

"Now this was not what I had in mind. I don't want to be made fun of. Please go
back and do it again, properly this time. I know you can do better."

She was dead serious now. He had to go back and repeat the whole scene. This
time he did it like a young girl would have done it.

"Good morning, Aunt Margaret."

She smiled at him. "Good morning, Gloria."

Somehow he felt that there was much more to this scene than what it appeared to
be.

"Have a roll and butter. There is jam and marmalade and honey. And here is
coffee, tea and milk."

He was really hungry and started to devour a roll as soon as he had buttered it.

"Please restrain yourself a little bit; eat a bit more civilized," she
admonished him. "By the way, I can see your behavior leaves much to be desired.
I think we must lay down some ground rules for you while living here with me."

"You see, while you are living here as a girl, I want you to behave like one at
all times. I don't want to see a dragoon in skirts. And I want you to show me
the respect I am entitled to. You are my ward and I am your guardian and I want
your behavior to show this... period. So as long as you are dressed as a girl,
you will curtsey to me when you greet me. Further, you will ask permission for
everything you want to do and if you receive it, you will say "thank you" and
curtsey. If I give you permission to do anything that you hadn't requested in
the first place, you will interpret this as an order to do it, but treat it as a
wish granted anyhow, thank me for it and curtsey before you go and do it."

He was taken aback... she evidently meant everything she said. Had nothing
happened last night? He was more insecure than ever. Well, lastly what she had
said was of no real importance for him, because this afternoon at the latest he
would become a boy again and shed these silly feathers.

"You know, you need some rules in society, which make living together possible,
and smooth the edges in the relations between people. I don't want to oppress
you, but some rules are necessary, and I think we shall get along beautifully if
we both observe these basic rules."

There obviously was some truth to this, he had to concede, but he had some
doubts about the necessity of exactly the rules that she had laid out before.
But he did not worry too much. These rules would not outlive this day, he was
sure.

"Would you like to go horseback riding through the Tiergarten with me this
morning?" she asked him.

He was all for it. He would show her some equestrian exercises that no girl
could do and thereby assert his masculinity.

"Of course, I would love to."

"Then go and get dressed and I'll meet you downstairs at the stable in 15
minutes."

Although he could have eaten at least two more rolls, he got up. He remembered
to curtsey before he turned toward the door. He almost bumped into Aunt
Margaret's maid who brought her a stylish riding suit with black riding coat,
red vest, black breeches and boots. He was glad to see this, evidently there
finally were trousers available here.

Entering his own suite, he found Suzanne waiting for him. She took off his
dressing-gown and put him into a corset again using the lacing bar.  He had
expected this somehow and was glad that it was shorter in its lower part than
the ones he had worn the day before. A chemise of fine linen followed, then a
white satin blouse with long sleeves. A big, light grey satin cravat was tightly
tied around his neck. He was waiting for the breeches when Suzanne pulled a
riding habit from one of the closets. No breeches, but a long, wide skirt of
fine black cheviot and a small and tightly cut jacket. All his hopes were gone.
He gave in, however, and let Suzanne dress him in the severely cut habit.  It
fit him perfectly. The riding boots, though, had heels about two inches high 
quite unusual.

Suzanne guided him down to the stables, carrying his hat and gloves.

Aunt Margaret had already mounted her dapple-grey mare.

"Hurry up now, we haven't got all day."

She looked marvelous, if a little masculine, with her black top hat.

Before he mounted his horse, Suzanne fastened his hat in his curls, a small,
feminine thing, decorated with a long thick veil, which she tied in a large bow
under his chin, letting the long ends stream down his back. He looked extremely
feminine with his hour-glass silhouette, the long, full skirt and the veiled
hat.

He experienced a real shock however, when he realized that his horse bore a
side-saddle. He had, of course, never used one of these before and did not know
if he would be able to handle it at all. Before he could make up his mind, the
coachman had already bent down, offering his help and suddenly he found himself
seated in the saddle.

"Let's go. Show me if you really can ride," and off Aunt Margaret went.

He felt very humiliated having to ride side-saddle in a dress while she rode in
breeches like a man.

It went better than he had feared, but it was an unaccustomed and rather
strenuous exercise for him and he was really tired and hungry when they finally
came back at noon. After a light lunch together, Margaret allowed him to retire
for a little rest. When he asked about his trunk, he was in for the next shock:
it had not arrived yet, and nobody seemed to know where it could have gone to.
This meant he would again have to spend the afternoon and night as a girl.

VII. An Unpleasant Experience

After a refreshing rest, Suzanne reappeared and dressed him in a delicate pink
afternoon frock, dripping with lace all over. Of course he had to wear a corset
again, and this time Suzanne had to close the gap entirely because the frock had
an even tighter waist than the others. It had short sleeves, and Suzanne put his
hands and arms in tight pink gloves that reached over his elbows. His feet were
shod in pink boots with very high heels. After having made up his face just a
little, she sent him down to take tea with Aunt Margaret.

Tea had been served in a large salon and Aunt Margaret sat at a little table,
reading a newspaper. He sat down next to her. When she let down her paper, he
addressed her.

"Aunt Margaret, may I ask you a question?"

"Certainly Dear, go ahead."

"Since my trunk did not arrive, can we go tomorrow and get some male clothes for
me?"

"Well, why? Don't you like the things you are wearing? Look into a mirror. You
look so pretty, you should always wear dresses. But if you insist, indeed I
shall get you some male things as soon as possible... however tomorrow is quite
impossible. I have been invited to visit friends at their estate south of Berlin
for the holidays. And you will accompany me, of course. We will not be back
until Tuesday around noon. I am afraid you will have to stay a girl at least
until then. So relax and enjoy it."

She returned to her paper leaving him to digest this shattering news.

The parlor-maid announced a visitor.

"Mademoiselle Coco, Madame."

"What a pleasant surprise, show her in, please."

Coco entered with rustling and swishing petticoats. She was impeccably dressed
again, and in the height of fashion in a plum- colored visiting dress with a
very narrow waist and wide hips. Aunt Margaret got up and went to meet her. He
got up too, following her. Aunt Margaret greeted Coco with little kisses on both
cheeks. Coco then turned to Gloria and extended her hand. He took it and held it
lightly while he respectfully curtseyed.

"Please sit down and have a cup of tea. What brings you here?"

"I am on my way to the Bergolds'; you know them. They have this terrible little
brat of a daughter. She is fourteen now, and a complete tomboy.  Her mother had
asked me to make something to restrain and subdue her, and help her to become a
lady."

"And what did you come up with?" Aunt Margaret asked, seeming very interested.

"Look here... this will restrain her and at the same time be very beneficial for
her figure, as it pushes out her bosom."

"Show me, please. No, I have a better idea. Put it on Gloria here, so I can
really judge its effectiveness. Gloria, please get up and help her."

He was very reluctant, but had to get up. Coco strapped soft leather cuffs, to
which stout rings were sewn, around his arms, just above the elbows. Then she
stepped behind him and pulled the elbows together. He heard something snap into
the rings. His elbows were now held on his back with about five or six inches
between them. It was not really a restraint, he just could not bring his arms to
the front anymore. Coco began to pull on something and his elbows were pulled
together very slowly. The thing between the cuffs must have been some sort of
pulley. His elbows were drawn closer and closer. It did not hurt him but it got
increasingly uncomfortable. Finally his elbows touched. Coco took a small silver
chain with spring hooks and snapped them into the rings at the cuffs. Then she
released the pulley. He had hoped this would bring him some relief, but the
chain now connecting his elbows still held them pressed tightly together. He
felt... and indeed he was...  completely helpless.

"Let me see it, dear, come to me," Aunt Margaret said, "Yes, it really does
something to her bosom. It seems to be a very helpful and healthy thing.  And
yet she is not completely restrained: she can still move her hands and do a lot
of things. Do you have more?"

"Yes, in fact I do. Since you mentioned the hands; if a more complete restraint
is desired, you can put the lower arms into this glove. It is a single glove,
encasing both arms, holding them tightly together. It has separate fingers like
any glove, but each one holds the two fingers of the right and left hand tightly
together, so the wearer cannot bend them. A perfect restraint, don't you agree?"

"Yes, a great idea. Why don't you put it on Gloria, too, so I can see the effect
and how it looks."

"I am glad to oblige." Coco first removed Gloria's pink gloves and then started
to push, pull and knead the single glove onto his arms. When she was finally
done, she closed a little row of buttons at each wrist, pressing them together
even tighter. Gloria's arms were now like one from elbows to fingertips.

"Marvelous! This will certainly hold any unruly girl in check. But what if she
starts yelling and complaining? That can be a real nuisance."

"No problem. Look here."

She produced an oblong object that was fastened against a kind of soft and
pliable leather belt about 20 inches long.

"Open your mouth, dear."

He wanted to object, but one look at Aunt Margaret told him it would be
extremely unwise and, reluctantly, he opened his mouth. In a moment, the oblong
object was buried deeply in it, and the leather belt tightly fastened behind his
neck. He was so securely gagged that he couldn't utter any sound.  He tried to
make some noise through his nose, screeching or humming or whatever. This was
immediately squelched by Coco, who simply pinched his nose shut, thereby cutting
off all air. He was afraid he would suffocate.

"See how simple it is to shut off the noise?" she addressed him, "if you promise
not to make any sounds, I'll let go. Nod your head if you promise."

He nodded immediately as much as he could while she was still holding on to his
nose, and she let it go.

"It is perfect. I would like to have all of this. But having the elbows strapped
together like this for a prolonged period of time... isn't this too hard on the
wearer? I think there should be another method to strap the arms behind the back
just as a simple restraint."

"Of course there is. Look here."

Coco drew something that looked like a long leather tube from her bag.

"This single glove holds the arms folded in the small of the back. It does not
hurt at all and can be worn for very long periods. I know women whose husbands
even make them sleep in it after an ardent session of lovemaking."

"I want this too. My little friend here sometimes is a little sassy and this
could teach her a little humility. Can't you leave it with me and give another
set to the Bergolds?"

"Of course, I'll just have to fetch another one and if I can have your carriage,
I can even be on time."

"Thank you very much, and of course I'll have you driven wherever you want."

Margaret escorted her to the door and gave orders to drive her according to her
directions.

Gloria still stood there in helpless silence.

"I think I should continue to lay down the rules for your stay in this house,"
Aunt Margaret started when she returned, "you see, in my opinion you are still
much too masculine. Since we will be spending the next three days among other
people, to whom you will be presented as a girl, we must undertake great efforts
to make you a little more feminine. You run around too fast, you are too sassy,
and you are too impertinent. A true girl aspiring to become a lady is shy and
much more reserved. To teach you to be more girlish, I shall train you
rigorously from now on and these items will serve me in this purpose."

He didn't believe his ears. He thought the roof would cave in above him.

"From now on, your hands or arms will always be tied behind your back, if you
are not actually required to use them, or when we have guests who do not know
about your training. Whether your elbows will be strapped together like they are
now, will depend entirely on your behavior. You will get black marks for every
bad or ungirlish thing you do, and each mark means you have to spend one day
with your elbows strapped together, including the single glove you are wearing
now, morning to night. If you complain, you will also wear the gag. Just so you
know what you'll have coming if you get a black mark, we shall start your
training right now, and until dinner you can stay as you are now."

That was really cruel. Dinner was more than two hours away and he did not know
whether he could stand this terrible constriction for so long.  But he saw no
way out. He was afraid to complain, as he was almost certain, it would mean the
first black mark. He saw nothing he could do, but resign himself to his fate.
Margaret picked up her paper again and started reading, paying no attention to
his discomfort at all. He could not sit in one of the deep easy-chairs, so he
tried sitting down on a stool in a corner. After a while, he started walking
around the room, trying to catch Aunt Margaret's attention.  He tried to express
his wish to leave.

Finally she said "All right, I won't be too severe the first time. You may go
upstairs and ask Suzanne to take you out of it and dress you for dinner."

He wanted to turn and dash out but remembered to curtsey as gracefully as he
could and then walk out slowly with small, girlish steps.

When he reached his room, he sounded the bell for Suzanne. When she saw him, she
exclaimed "Now isn't this nice and snug? Really, it does a lot for your figure."

She made no attempt to release him. He followed her around with begging eyes,
but she just said "stay off my tail... I have to prepare your dress for tonight.
Wait a moment: I'll fix you."

She took a long ribbon, tied one end around his neck and led him like a dog to a
wall-bracket, to which she fastened the other end. There he stood, unable to
move away, tied to the wall with a simple ribbon with only a loose knot. It
would have taken him less than a second to untie it if he had the use of his
hands, and even with his teeth he could have opened the knot in no time, but
there he stood, helpless like a puppy on a satin leash.

Meanwhile, Suzanne took out the dress he was going to wear, a new set of
lingerie, stockings, and court-shoes, taking her time selecting each item,
checking it against the others to ensure the colors matched, with no haste. She
must have spent at least 20 minutes doing it, until she had all the things
together. She turned to him again, took him off the wall and started to undo the
single glove which imprisoned his arms from fingers to elbows. After that, with
a great effort she unhooked the chain holding his elbows tightly together. He
sighed deeply when he could move his arms again and immediately wanted to undo
the gag. He discovered to his dismay that it was fastened not only with a
buckle, but was locked on, too. He was unable to remove it.

He gestured to Suzanne to get her to take it off.

"Can't do. Don't have key. Madame has key. Must wait until she comes."

Because he could not speak to her, she spoke to him as if he were a little
child, or somebody who didn't speak the language. Then she proceeded to dress
him for dinner. He had to keep on his extremely tight corset. The dress was
beautiful; a soft rose tone with dark red applications, a little bustle
emphasizing his behind and a trained full skirt. The sleeves reached to his
elbows, where they ended in a flurry of rose colored lace. His gloves were long
and tight glace kid and disappeared into the sleeves. The court shoes had the
highest heels of all he had worn so far. When he gestured that he thought them
too high, Suzanne calmed him.

"They are just a little over four inches. They are very smart. You'll get used
to their height very quickly and you'll love the way they make you walk."

When he came down to meet Aunt Margaret at the dining table, she unlocked his
gag and took it out of his mouth. He was glad to be rid of it and touched his
cheeks and moved his jaws to see if everything was still working.

"Well?" Aunt Margaret looked at him inquiringly.

He quickly remembered to say "Thank you, Aunt Margaret," and to do a graceful
curtsey.

"The next time I have to remind you, you'll earn a black mark."

During dinner Aunt Margaret told him more about Coco. His real name was Conrad
and he came from a good family. A few years before, he had decided he wanted to
live as a girl and with the encouragement and help of his mother, he had done so
ever since. He had his own business, making costumes for the large number of
medium and small theater and music-hall productions playing in Berlin. He did
most of the designs, and employed four girls who did the sewing. And if anybody
wanted to have anything specially made, he was the one they turned to for
extravagant and bizarre things.

Gloria wanted to know if nobody objected to a man living as a lady.

Aunt Margaret explained that, not only were the people in Berlin extremely
tolerant of their neighbor's foibles, even the police were very tolerant. They
actually had issued him a paper, stating that the fact that he was living as a
woman was known to the authorities and that there were no objections. There was,
in fact, no law against cross-dressing. At the most, it could have been called a
disturbance of the peace if people had objected, but in any event this was rated
as nothing but a misdemeanor and if nobody complained, peace was not disturbed.

Aunt Margaret explained that even though male homosexuality was punishable under
the existent law, and there were many homosexuals around, who did not even try
to hide their inclinations, very rarely was anybody tried and convicted. The
police were keeping a watchful eye on male prostitutes (which were all well
known to them) who tried to blackmail their lovers. If such a case was made
known to them, they went after the blackmailer full force and the blackmailed
person's case was handled most discreetly, with rarely any damage being done to
him.

After dinner, Aunt Margaret sent Gloria to bed early, as the next day they would
have to rise early to take an early train.

"We are visiting very dear friends of mine. They have a son who is just taking
his final exams to become a medical doctor, I think you will like him. Oh,
before I forget it, remind Suzanne to pack at least two evening dresses. I think
there will be a ball held at the mansion Sunday night and probably there will be
a dance Monday night, too."

The idea of having to dance in skirts, and probably with a man, did not thrill
him at all, but as Sunday night was two nights off, he was not too scared. There
might even be a chance to find some male clothes at that place and he could put
an end to all this nonsense.

When Suzanne refused to let him out of his corset, he protested a little but
soon gave in. He was convinced he could get out by himself as soon as she had
left. He even went along playfully as Suzanne slipped his wrists through the
loops of the adjustable garter-straps, "to get your hands out of my way while I
clean your face," she said. It isn't even a real restraint, he thought, I can
slip out any time. She pulled the nightgown over his head but left his hands in
the loops.

"Have a good night and sleep well, tomorrow will probably be a long day," she
said as she tucked him in and left him.

When he tried to slip his hands out of the garter straps, he discovered he could
only draw the loops tighter around his wrists, but however he turned and tugged,
he could not slip out of the damn things. After about half an hour of
struggling, he gave up. He had underestimated her: she had outwitted him and he
had blindly walked into her trap. Now he had to keep on this dreadful corset
until she released him in the morning. Well, tomorrow he would put an end to
this all as soon as he got some male clothes. The fact that their hosts had a
son sounded promising. He would probably help him.

VIII. A Spanking

When Jean-Marie (or Gloria, as he now always was called by his aunt and his maid
Suzanne since they had tricked him into wearing girl's clothes) woke up after a
refreshing sleep, he let the last two days pass in review: How he had come to
Berlin to meet his aunt and guardian and how she had made him wear girl's
clothes and cunningly but gently pushed him into subjection.  He tried to
analyze his feelings about what had happened to him. He knew of course it was
utterly wrong for a boy to be dressed as a girl. Boys just did not do this...
period. Everything he had learned during the seventeen years of his upbringing
said it was wrong, terribly wrong and that he had to fight it and oppose it.

However, deep inside him there was something troubling him. To be dressed as a
girl had caused exciting feelings in him. He still shivered with delight, when
he thought back to how he had looked in his evening gown dressed up for a night
at the opera. And when he remembered how he was completely tied up and gagged in
the afternoon dress last night, he became terribly excited. He remembered dreams
that he had had since his earliest boyhood about being tied up, dreams about
beautiful women forcing him to wear girl's clothes, using him as their toy. He
always had tried to shake off these terrible and unnatural dreams... but they
were thrilling him to his very bones.

He had never ever talked to anybody about these dreams. He would have died of
shame. He was convinced that nobody would understand his feelings anyhow, and he
would be ridiculed by all, so it was best to bury them deep inside and push them
aside whenever they occurred. These dreams were so odd, they must be unique. He
was sure nobody else had these dreams.

Yet that night at the opera and again yesterday he had met a beautiful girl, who
actually was a boy, and who made no secret of this, and the fact that she
enjoyed dressing and living as a girl and preferred it to a masculine existence.
Were there others who had the same or similar feelings? It was quite a
revelation to him that, evidently, there were. Coco had made some remark about
her knowing other boys who liked to dress up.

But anyway, he resolved that this was not for him. He wanted to become an
engineer like his father had been and travel through the world to bring the
wonders of technical progress to its far corners. He wanted to fight the
elements and make them bow to human willpower. That was a task where only a
strong man could succeed. Nobody ever heard of a female railroad engineer laying
tracks through deserts and jungles, for instance. He therefore had to put an end
to the doings and machinations of his aunt and shed the female things she put on
him.

That morning he felt so strong that he was sure that nobody could deter him from
finding some male clothes and doing away with the girlish things they had made
him wear. In spite of his tight corset, which he had to keep on during the
night, and the fact that his arms were held to his side by the elastic loops of
its garters, he climbed out of his bed. The clock on the mantlepiece showed 10
minutes to seven. With his teeth, he tugged at the bell to summon the maid.

Suzanne appeared almost immediately.

"Good morning, Gloria, you are up early. Madame had asked me to wake you at
seven. All the better: we have a few minutes more."

She removed his nightgown, unfastened his wrists from their elastic but
inescapable fetters and proceeded with the morning ritual of perfumed bath,
brushing and curling his hair and dressing him. Strapping him to the lacing bar,
she put a new corset on him that was not as tight as the one last night, it left
him with about half an inch more room. He was really thankful for this little
additional space, although after only about 30 hours in corsets his body seemed
to have adjusted fairly well to the compression of these torture tools.

Suzanne dressed him in a traveling costume of light beige wool with dark brown
velvet applications. His feet were shod in smart beige boots with heels only a
little higher than three inches.

"Madame said breakfast will be served in her rooms at 8:15. We have about half
an hour until then. I shall pack your things now and you can help me select the
things to pack. As you do not have to pack anything yourself, please put your
hands on your back so I can lock them together as Madame had wished."

This is my chance to put my foot down and stop this nonsense, he thought.

"I shall not allow you to tie up my hands. There is no reason to do it, I did
not do anything wrong and I do not have to be punished. It is humiliating enough
having to wear these clothes, but I shall not tolerate being tied up by you."

He looked at her defiantly.

She did not answer him, she just took his right hand in her hands, raised her
arms and slipped through under them, turning herself full circle and passing him
doing it. She ended standing behind him, holding his right arm in a very painful
hammer-lock position. All this happened in less than a second and took him
entirely by surprise. He screeched with pain. He almost doubled over to escape
the pain. She steered him toward the backrest of a large easy chair.

"All right, if you want it the hard way, it's your choice. Pick up your skirt
with your left hand and hold it high up on your back," she commanded.

When he hesitated, she pulled his right arm higher, causing the awful pain to
increase even more. He feared that the slightest further increase of her pull
would dislocate his shoulder, so he gave in and pulled his skirt up. She helped
him and gathered all of it on his back, directing his left hand to hold it
there. From the dressing table nearby she grabbed a hair-brush and started to
spank him hard on his bare behind.

He screeched and howled with pain but she did not relent, she just bent him
deeper over the backrest and buried his face into the thick pillows lying on the
seat, effectively muffling his cries. She spanked him hard until her arm began
to tire and his cries had turned to uncontrolled heavy sobbing.  She did not let
him go after she stopped beating him, just released her hold on him a little bit
so he could raise his body. His face was red and wet from his tears, he still
sobbed so hard that his whole body was jerking. It was not just the pain, which
shook him up, it was the total humiliation of being spanked like that by a mere
girl that had shattered his masculine ego.

"Will you now obey me, if I tell you to do something?"

He hastened to nod, wiping his nose and his eyes with his free hand.

"Or do you want a repeat performance?"

He shook his head violently, still unable to speak for his sobbing.

She let go of his arm. "All right then. Here are some handcuffs. Put them on
yourself behind your back."

Still unable to control himself, he took the shining things and fumbled behind
his back until they were closed and locked his hands closely together on his
back. Suzanne checked to see if they were on tight enough and was satisfied only
after she had tightened them a notch or two.

"Now, as Madame had wished, you will wear them at all times when you are not
required to use your hands for something you were asked to do.  If I forget
about it, you will remind me. And you will put them on yourself as soon as I ask
you to, understand?"

He nodded with is head hanging down.

"Now let me clean up your face and put on some make-up so people won't see right
away you have been crying."

She made him sit in front of the mirror and started with the cosmetics.

"And by the way, I may as well tell you now, you will hear it from Madame
anyway: Madame has promoted me from your maid to your governess. I have to
instruct you on feminine behavior, ladylike deportment and so on. We shall have
many training sessions every day from now on.  And since I am not your maid
anymore, I want you to call me "Mademoiselle" from now on and you will have to
curtsey to me when greeting me or when I give you permission to do something...
exactly as you have to do with Madame."

His spirits were completely broken. Another humiliation, having to accept this
girl as his superior, who could give him orders.

"Madame also told me that she thinks it is unsuitable and sounds childish if you
call her "Aunt". She thinks being called "Aunt" by a big girl like you in front
of strangers makes her appear too old. But just calling her "Margaret" is
entirely inappropriate, since she is your guardian, and you should show the
respect due to her in addressing her. She therefore wants you to address her as
"Madame". I suggest you remember this, lest you start collecting black marks
swiftly."

After this new blow to his ego, he was seriously thinking of fleeing from this
house at once. But what could he do? Fettered as he was, he would not even be
able to reach the door of his room. And dressed as he was... where could he turn
in a strange city with no money? He had to find an opportunity to escape. Maybe
the weekend excursion would present a chance.

IX. A Trip to the Countryside

When he entered Margaret's sitting-room, it was precisely 8:15. He closed the
door behind him and waited there until she looked up.

"Good morning, Madame," he greeted her with a graceful curtsey.

"Good morning, Gloria, come and join me for breakfast."

She looked him in the face. "Have you been crying? Tell me the reason."

He truthfully related the whole incident to her.

"Now that was stupid of you, not to obey Mademoiselle in the first place, wasn't
it? Mademoiselle had every right to do what she did. You see, while you are
living here as a girl, you have to be obedient and submissive as is befitting a
young girl. I shall not tolerate any insolence or willfulness on your part. This
kind of behavior, often found in young men, is not acceptable even in them, much
less in a girl. I hope that you will soon adapt your demeanor to the ways
expected by society as the proper behavior of a young lady. It will make things
easier for all of us, but mostly for you, though. I hope you agree with me.
Don't you?"

He took a deep breath... as far as the constriction of his corset allowed... and
silently nodded, his eyes downcast. No use putting up a fight here and now, he
could only loose.

"Well, answer me, Gloria, and look at me."

She treated him like a recalcitrant child, but he had to give in.

"Yes, of course you are right and I agree with you, Madame," he finally managed
to say.

"Well, then this is settled and out of the way. Let's enjoy the nice day and our
breakfast."

He hoped she would release him from the handcuffs... in vain.

"I see you are a little hampered. Well, then I shall prepare you a roll and feed
you. Do you want coffee or tea?"

And she fed him like a baby, even dabbing his lips with a napkin after each bite
or sip. Long before he had enough, she stopped and told him "Run along and ask
Mademoiselle to get you ready for our trip. I shall meet you downstairs at the
carriage in 10 minutes."

He got up obediently.

"Thank you very much, Madame," he managed to say, not forgetting his curtsey.

"You are very welcome, my dear. See how simple it is?"

Half an hour later they, which was Margaret, Suzanne, and Jean- Marie or... as
the two women wanted Jean-Marie to see it... Madame, Mademoiselle, and Gloria,
were sitting in a reserved first class compartment in the train that would bring
them to the estate of their hosts for the holidays.

Suzanne had exercised another little tyranny over Gloria. After having her slip
into a light dust-cloak, which matched the colors of her dress, she had hung an
ornamental cord around her neck, which suspended a dainty velvet muff just below
her waist.

"Slip your hands into it please," she asked her.

Jean-Marie sensed something mischievous in her request, but was afraid to
object. When he had put his hands into the little muff, Suzanne compressed
something at each end of it and he heard two little clicks. Metal clamps had
closed tightly around his wrists and he was unable to retract his hands from the
muff. She looked at him smiling like the cat that had eaten the canary.

"Another little toy, that will teach you proper submissiveness. You will not
need your hands until we get there and if you are careful and push your hands
well in, nobody will see the fetters."

After the train had started, Suzanne had drawn down the shades on the windows on
the side of the aisle, so nobody could look into their compartment.

"I am just thinking: Gloria is wearing rather low heels today. I think she might
be tempted to walk with an unfeminine stride when we arrive. The surroundings
will be rather rural and that might make her forget to move gracefully. Her
dress is very comfortable and does nothing to remind her to curb her stride. I
think we should restrain her somehow to prevent any mistakes she might make."

"An excellent idea, Suzanne, what do you propose?" Margaret supported Suzanne's
argument.

"Well, I have here a small gadget that just might do the trick. May I fix it on
her legs?"

"By all means, please do."

Suzanne drew back Gloria's skirts to her knees. She knelt down and fastened a
strong cloth ribbon around each of Gloria's legs just below her knees. Other
ribbons, adjustable in length, connected these in front and in back.

"All right Gloria, get up and walk up and down."

He discovered that he could take only the tiniest steps.

"You can't leave this on," he protested, "I would not even be able to step down
from the car in the station."

"Don't you worry your little head, my dear, I can easily give you some more
room. Now sit down again."

He did it and she reached under his skirts and pulled twice. But instead of
getting more freedom, his knees were drawn tightly together.

"That's the wrong way," he protested.

"Oh no, as you will not be doing any walking for the next hour or so, your knees
can stay strapped together like this. It will remind you, always to sit with
your knees pressed together. Another lesson in femininity. And since you cannot
walk anyway, I may as well bind your ankles together."

She did it using a similar ribbon, which she wound around both ankles, pulled
tight and buckled.

There he sat with his two mistresses, tied hand and foot, fashionably dressed as
a girl, and he had not the slightest chance to escape them. It should have made
him angry, rebellious or at least dejected or depressed. Strangely enough, none
of this happened. The situation inexplicably aroused his passions, and he leaned
back into the corner of his seat, closing his eyes, and gave way to these
surprising, but very pleasant feelings.

During their ride, Margaret explained that her husband and Mr. von Eltzen, their
host for the weekend, had been business partners. He had only recently acquired
the estate and renovated the mansion.

Shortly before they reached their destination, Suzanne freed his ankles and his
hands and loosened the straps at his knees. Somehow, he wished it had continued,
but then he remembered his plan to escape his mistresses.

At the station they were picked up by a large coach. After their bags were
stowed away, the coachman said they would have to wait a few moments, as he had
to pick up somebody else; another lady.

"Look who's coming," Margaret suddenly exclaimed, "it's Coco!"

Really, there she came, very stylishly dressed for a visit "la campange" in a
forest green wool suit, wearing a rather austere, almost masculine hat, which
was only softened by a large veil draped around its crown, partly drawn over the
face, partly hanging in long streamers down the back.

She marched toward the coach using a walking stick made of polished knotty wood
to help her. Even in this costume without any frills or ruches she looked
extremely feminine and her "marching" could hardly be called that. She projected
the picture of a very fragile girl. Jean-Marie was again amazed by her extremely
narrow waist. Even now with the heavier material of her costume, it was
unbelievable small.

When she reached the coach and saw who was sitting in it, she let out a little
shriek of delight.

"I don't believe it. I had no idea you were coming, too. We could have traveled
together. Well, I am glad to see you. I was afraid I wouldn't know anybody
besides the hosts."

The porter who had followed her put her bag into the trunk at the back and she
greeted everybody with a little kiss, and sat down opposite from Margaret.

"Well, what a pleasant surprise."

Jean-Marie simply couldn't believe that this ultra feminine creature could be a
boy. He made a mental note to find out more about her during the coming days.

The coach took about half an hour to reach the von Eltzen estate. They were
greeted by their hosts.

"I suggest you go to your rooms first and get settled and then we can all take a
carriage-ride until lunch-time. My husband is dying to show off his property,"
announced their hostess, Mrs. von Eltzen.

After the official introduction to their hosts, Jean-Marie had tried to keep in
the background as much as possible. He had not seen the son of their hosts. He
wanted to find him as soon as possible to get some male clothes, before any
other guests arrived who could see him as a girl. He was afraid to ask for him
directly; he just had to take his chances and keep his eyes open for him.

After they were shown their rooms and all their bags had been delivered, they
returned to the hall. Where is this son-of-a- bitch, now that I need him,
Jean-Marie thought. Much to his disappointment, he had to join the others for
the ride. Luckily, they were the only guests so far. When Margaret enquired who
else was expected to come, Mr. von Eltzen told her they were all neighbors and
not expected until dinner.

The property was impressive. The mansion overlooked a lake: there was a
boat-house and a private landing with a small sailing-yacht. The grounds were
landscaped in the English country park fashion with groups of trees and hedges
in the meadows. They saw orchards and fields and went through the village
nearby, but nothing could hold Jean-Marie's interest. He was glad when they
finally returned and lunch was announced.

Then he appeared.

"May I introduce our son, Fritz," Mr. von Eltzen proclaimed.

Jean-Marie looked him over with intense interest. He was taller than Jean-Marie,
at least 5' 9" but rather slim, definitely not the athletic type. That was good.
Probably his trousers would be too long for him, but you could always fold up
what was too long inside the leg. His shirts and jackets could just fit him...
maybe the arms would be a little long.

"You know everybody, Fritz, except our young guest here, Baroness Gloria von
Leydenburg, Baronin von Leydenburg's niece."

Jean-Marie was still staring at him, calculating, comparing Fritz' size to his,
when he saw Fritz' outstretched hand waiting for his. Oh my God, I am Baroness
Gloria von Leydenburg! It suddenly dawned on him. Never before had he been
introduced that way and for a moment he had not even realized that it was he who
was being introduced. He offered his hand to be shaken and got another shock
when Fritz bowed to him and breathed a kiss on his hand. Just in time, he
remembered to curtsey.

"You seem to have flustered her quite a bit, Fritz," Margaret observed "I hope
you do not take advantage of her bewilderment. Be a gentleman."

"But of course, Frau Baronin."

At lunch Fritz took him to the table, but with all the others around then, he
had no opportunity to talk to him about his problem. He could, however, watch
him and his actions very closely. Fritz had very delicate hands, with long slim
fingers. If he was a doctor, he had to be a surgeon.  His face was finely cut,
with soft features showing great sensitivity. He spoke in a low, modulated
voice. The conversation mostly was about his work at a hospital in Berlin, and
Jean-Marie felt that he was very dedicated to it. Had Jean-Marie really been a
girl, he could have fallen in love with him.  Good looking, coming from a good
family... but most important, a sincere, caring personality.

Jean-Marie was sure he would be understanding and help him... if he just had a
chance to talk to him in private for a few minutes. But his hopes dwindled when
Fritz told him he had to go back to Berlin, to the hospital. He was scheduled
for duty for a double shift from four o'clock that afternoon to eight Sunday
morning. When he saw her obvious disappointment, he assured her that he would be
back for the ball scheduled for Sunday night.

Jean-Marie was disappointed, but for quite different reasons than Fritz could
imagine. He had to find another way to get to male clothes.  Maybe he could just
steal... no, borrow... some of Fritz's while he was gone.  But he had no such
luck. After lunch, Fritz rushed off and everybody else went to take an afternoon
nap. Suzanne and Margaret made sure Jean-Marie would stay with them. Maybe they
had sensed his imminent rebellion. They had three adjoining rooms, all three
interconnected and having a door to the hall. Suzanne closed and locked the door
of his room leading to the hall and took the key along. He now could only exit
through either Suzanne's or Margaret's room. He looked out of the window but it
was too high to jump and there was nothing near he could climb down on. He was
caught again.

Suzanne came and undressed him, leaving on his corset. She made him put his
wrists through the garter loops again, fettering him in this simple and yet
effective way, and put him to bed.

After he had rested and slept a little bit, Suzanne came and dressed him for the
afternoon tea. He had to wear a gown that again was very tight in the waist and
Suzanne had to take in his corset another half inch. When he looked into the
long mirror after Suzanne had completely dressed him, he was quite taken by his
reflection. Again, he was a very pretty girl. He would have liked to see Fritz'
reaction to seeing him. He shook his head... he was even beginning to think as a
girl.

X. The Deflowering... Part Two

The afternoon tea proved to be rather dull. There were only the women present
and apart from the four visitors from Berlin and their hostess, there were only
some neighbors, and their conversation circled around their houses, kids and
gardens. Jean- Marie was glad when they all left and they retired to get dressed
for dinner.

Suzanne selected a very elegant dinner dress for him. It left him very little
room to move from its high, tight collar to the narrow skirt, which only
permitted small, mincing steps. When he complained about the restrictions,
Suzanne just told him he would mostly be sitting at the table.

"This is not a ball-gown to dance in, and it allows you enough room to walk to
and from the table."

She took great care with his hairdo and his makeup.

"Your head will be seen all the time by everybody... and any pretty young girl
is under constant scrutiny by the other women and even more so, if she is a "new
face"."

He had to agree, he was as pretty as a picture when he walked down to dinner
together with Aunt Margaret and Suzanne. Somehow, the feeling of his tight
skirts keeping his legs tied together so softly, yet effectively, troubled his
passions.

About twenty people had gathered already in the drawing room. They were shortly
introduced all around, then dinner was announced and everybody sat down at the
beautifully decorated dinner table. The food was excellent: nothing exotic, but
prepared with imagination and knowledge.

Jean-Marie suddenly felt a foot lightly rubbing against his legs under the
table. He looked across and saw Coco smile at him and wink. Then another foot
touched him from further down the opposite side and Suzanne smiled and winked at
him. He was quite disturbed by these unexpected advances, especially when he saw
them look at each other and smile again.  There seemed to be an understanding
between the two of them. The trouble was, he couldn't make out if it was an
alliance against him or if he was included as an ally in some secret plot.  It
could be promising, but he had better watch out.

Shortly after desert and cordials, the gathering dissolved, everyone went home,
and the four ladies from Berlin retired to their rooms. Jean-Marie was not tired
at all, and neither were the other three.

"I was glad to get away from them," Margaret stated.

"Von Eltzen was a business partner of my husband and we are still doing business
together... but he definitely is not a big charmer and the others were not very
entertaining, either."

"Well, let's have a party here," Coco suggested, "I have taken my precautions
for this turn of events."

She brought a cooler with a bottle of champagne from her room.

"There's more where this came from," she said.

Everybody had a glass of champagne and Suzanne took Jean-Marie and started
dancing with him, humming a popular waltz.

"You know, we must practice a lot until tomorrow. You will have to dance as a
girl, which means mostly backwards, and with trained skirts you will surely get
tangled up in them and fall, if we do not practice."

She put his left arm on her shoulder and took his right hand in her left so he
had the girl's position.  As it turned out, he could not dance at all with his
tight skirts.

"Take them off, then," she said,  "Let's get you out of that dress, and then we
can dance."

In a minute they were dancing again, she fully clothed; he only in long gloves,
corset, stockings and high heels. When he saw this strange couple in the mirror,
it immediately aroused him.... It looked so strangely erotic.

Coco and Margaret picked up the tune and started dancing as well, with Coco
leading. Very soon, however, their dancing ceased and they were holding each
other tightly, kissing passionately. Jean- Marie saw that Margaret opened Coco's
dress in the back and pulled it off her shoulders.  Coco wriggled until the
dress lay in a puddle on the floor. All the time, their kissing did not let up.

Suzanne kept dancing with Jean-Marie, but he watched the other couple as much as
possible. Margaret opened the ribbon that held up Coco's drawers and they, too,
fell down. Then she pulled at some ribbon in the back and grabbed his cock in
front.  It became fully erect in just a few seconds, and she massaged it gently.
Jean-Marie couldn't take his eyes off them as they started to make love slowly
and oblivious to anything around them. One thing was certain now: Coco was a
boy.

Suzanne had stopped dancing, too, and proceeded with him just as Margaret had
done before with Coco, and soon they were similarly engaged; Margaret and Coco
on a couch at the foot of the bed and Suzanne and Jean-Marie on the bed. Only
the sounds of ecstatic lovemaking could be heard.

After a while, Margaret disentangled herself from Coco's embraces, got up and
said to the other couple, "let's change partners."

Jean-Marie was deeply engaged in something he did not want to let up right then,
but Suzanne extricated herself and let him lie on the bed, sighing deeply with
closed eyes.

He opened his arms to receive Margaret. He felt a mouth close around his
still-rigid shaft, and he writhed in ecstasy from the touch of lips and tongue.
His hands were searching for her and he found her legs, encased in slippery silk
stockings. He glided upward with slow, caressing strokes, grabbed her wonderful
full ass-cheeks and pulled her to his mouth to do as he had done on their first
night of love.  He noticed that she was wearing a different perfume tonight. He
opened his mouth and searched for her love-nest with his tongue... and received
the shock of his life when a hard and throbbing cock entered his mouth.

This was not Margaret; his new partner was Coco.

He wanted to reject it; get it out of his mouth, but that was easier said than
done. Coco's thighs held his head immobile, and the damned thing was buried so
deep that it was impossible to spit it out.  Then there were the thrills that
Coco's actions on his own cock caused, and soon he was unable to do anything but
respond in the same way.

Just when he thought he would reach his climax, Coco let him go and got up. He
was very frustrated, but willing to follow any request from Coco that promised a
continuation. Without saying a word, Coco turned him around to a kneeling
position on all fours and pressed his slippery tool into his ass.

"Don't fight it, relax; you'll love it," he was told in soothing tones.

Coco reached around and started to massage his dangling cock. After an initial
sharp burst of pain, Coco's cock glided in and out, causing only the most
delightful feelings in him and in less than two minutes they both came almost
simultaneously and collapsed on the bed.

"Now you are a real woman after having been fucked by a man," Margaret declared.

He was completely confused. He had been fucked, but Coco was a girl; he looked,
felt, sounded, and smelled like a girl.  He had made love to a girl, not to a
man!

On the other hand, this girl had a cock like a man, so maybe he really had been
fucked by a man. However, he had felt only a very feminine creature that could
not be rated as male at all. It was all so confusing. All he knew for sure was
that he had enjoyed it immensely.

The two women had not been idle during all this, but had been engaged in some
hot lovemaking of their own. When they saw the two boy-girls relax after their
love-bout, they joined them on the bed. It was very wide but with four people in
it, it got rather crowded, and certainly did not offer enough room to stay clear
of each other... which, on the other hand, actually was the last thing on their
minds.

The love-making continued into the wee hours of the morning and nobody cared who
was doing what to whom with what. When they finally fell asleep, they were all
completely exhausted.

XI. Fritz

Unnoticed by Jean-Marie, his three bedfellows left him and went to their own
rooms early in the morning.... When he awoke to the sound of the curtains being
drawn back, he found himself in bed alone. When he looked at the clock, it was
11:30 and he saw that Suzanne was already dressed, and in an unusually cheery
mood. She brought him a cup of coffee.

"We skipped the breakfast this morning. Lunch is being served in an hour, and I
need that much time to make you look in any way presentable."

She undertook her task with her usual efficiency, and in an hour he was bathed,
corseted, dressed, coiffed, and made up, and again he looked like an elegant
young lady.

Lunch was uneventful and so was a stroll through the park, afterwards. 
Everybody was cheerful and nice to him. Coco could not hold back a few
remarks... cryptic to all others...  alluding to the night before, which made
him blush.

"What a sweet young girl, so shy and bashful, blushing even for the slightest
reason," the other ladies thought... completely unaware that this sweet young
girl wasn't a girl in the first place and had probably in her young life
experienced more erotic variations than all of them put together.

The rest of the afternoon was spent resting and preparing for dinner and the
ball. Jean-Marie hoped Fritz would be there in time. Although it was now too
late to change clothes, he still felt he could trust Fritz, and rely on him to
prevent embarrassing situations. He would explain his situation and ask him to
act as his escort for the night, protecting him from any unwanted attention from
other males.

Suzanne dressed Jean-Marie with great care. As there was no lacing bar
available, she tied his wrists to a curtain cord, which she pulled over a door
and tied to the door-knob on the other side... not without first pulling it taut
with all of her weight. Then she proceeded with the lacing of the corset.  He
might have expected it: the dress required the damn thing to be completely
closed, almost one inch less than the dress he had worn in the morning. Again,
he was aroused by the lacing, but Suzanne dealt with this problem in her usual,
noncommittal way.

He did not wear a chemise, as the dress was very low cut and would leave his
shoulders almost bare. Before he slipped into the dress, Suzanne put two
petticoats on him, both made of heavy taffeta, slim in front but full of ruffles
in the back. The second one even had a little pillow built in, which sat over
his behind, creating a small bustle. The dress itself was of light blue silk,
covered with white lace. It was rather fully cut above the waist, emphasizing
his bosom. At the very top of it, the round mounds enhanced by the tight corset
looking over its top edge could be seen in a nest of white lace.  The waist was
very narrow and followed the line of the corset-shaped body without a wrinkle.
The skirt in front fell straight to the floor but opened in the back into wide
folds, which ended in a rather long train.

Suzanne showed him how to handle it while dancing. It was so long, he had to
hold it waist-high with his left hand. It took him quite a while to learn how to
pick it up gracefully and hold it so he would not get caught in its folds
dancing backwards. Suzanne was a relentless teacher and did not give up until
she was sure he could manage it quite well and gracefully. He was still
frightened of having to dance with strange men, and as soon as Suzanne finished
with him he went downstairs to look for Fritz.

He was lucky.  Fritz was already there, busy giving the last orders for the
decoration of the ballroom.

"Can I talk to you in private for a few minutes?" Jean-Marie said as he
approached him.

"Certainly, Baroness, come here into my father's study.  Nobody will disturb us
there."

When he had closed the door, Fritz was looking expectantly at Jean-Marie.

"I am talking to you as a doctor now, in strict confidence."

Fritz nodded, getting even more curious.

"First of all, please don't call me "Baroness"."

"But you are the niece of Baronin von Leydenburg's late husband... in fact, as I
remember, you are the child of his brother."

"The last statement is true, I am the child of the late Baron von Leydenburg's
brother. But I am not anybody's niece."

"How is that?"

"Very simple; I am the nephew. I am a male."

There.  It was out; he had said it.

"I don't believe it," answered Fritz, "you are putting me on."

"We don't have much time now, but here is the proof."  Jean-Marie raised his
skirts and showed him.

"It is unbelievable! How is this possible?"  Fritz was clearly flabbergasted....
"Why are you wearing these clothes?"

"I have to, but there is not enough time to explain everything now. I'll tell
you later. What I want from you now is some protection. I don't want to go to
the ball, really, but I cannot stay away. I don't want to dance with strangers,
and have to fight off their advances. You know my secret now, and I trust you
will not betray me and pass it around. What I want you to do... and I can only
hope I am not disturbing any other plans of yours... is to be my escort for the
evening, and fight off all other possible admirers. Will you help me?"... He
said it in a low, pleading voice.

"That'll be one of the easiest exercises I have ever had to perform. In fact, I
had planned to do it anyhow. You are not only one of the prettiest girls
expected to come, but as the ward of our guest of honor, it actually would have
been my duty to accompany you tonight to the table and to the ball afterwards.
When I saw you yesterday, I believed myself very lucky to have such a lovely
companion for tonight. Now, of course, certain aspects of our relationship have
changed dramatically... you have no idea how dramatically. I am glad you told
me.  I promise you; I shall keep your secret. Tell me, who is in on it?"

"My aunt of course, Mademoiselle Suzanne, who is my governess, and Mademoiselle
Coco."

"Coco knows your secret? That's strange. I know her... rather him... very well
from the clinic at the university. He was treated by my professor for some time.
I think there is more to it than I can see presently, and certainly there is
more than just coincidence involved." Fritz was a little pensive, and talking
more to himself, than to Jean-Marie.

"But at any rate, to the outside observer I shall be a very attentive companion
to you; an ardent admirer, and I will try to monopolize you all night."

"I am so grateful for your help.  I'll never forget it."

"Don't mention it.  I think I have to be thankful to you for taking me into your
confidence. But we have to go back now, or people will be wondering where we
are."

Fritz proved not only an attentive, courteous companion at the table, but he was
also an excellent dancer and Jean-Marie had no trouble following him. He
actually enjoyed dancing with Fritz very much. If he were a real girl, he mused,
he would probably fall in love with him on the spot. Fritz was basically sincere
and serious but also witty, and had a great sense of humor.  Together, they made
their cracks about the other people, sharing their laughs secretly. And... from
a girl's point of view... Fritz was very good looking; almost too good.

"Let's go outside for a moment," Jean-Marie suggested at one point, "it's too
hot in here."

"Yes, let's take a walk through the park. Go get a cloak or something.

I'll wait for you in front of the house."

Jean-Marie left as fast as he could without creating suspicion and went to his
room. He slipped out of his ball gown... a walk in the park would surely ruin
it... and put on a simple walking dress with low heeled boots.  He picked up the
white, fox cape he had worn to the opera and went outside. At first he could not
see very much, although the moon was full. Fritz stepped close and put an arm
around his shoulders, guiding him through the darkness. Jean- Marie felt like a
girl in the strong arm of her lover. He actually loved this idea. If he had to
be a girl, he should use the advantages this status offered. He snuggled even
closer.

"Tell me why you are wearing girl's clothes. Start at the beginning, I want to
hear it all."

Jean-Marie gave Fritz a full account of what had happened to him since his
arrival in Berlin. He left out nothing, not even the erotic adventures.  He was
glad that it was dark, because he felt himself blushing a few times. At first he
only intended to give an account of the bare facts, and not all of them, but
Fritz urged him on to spill it all. He even made him talk about his feelings
about wearing dresses and about making love as a girl. Jean-Marie knew he had
found a friend, and he was glad to be able to talk about everything that had
been pent up inside him.

Fritz mostly listened, only now and then posing a question which showed
considerable insight and understanding of Jean-Marie's problems.  They must have
talked for the better part of an hour before Jean-Marie finally fell silent.
They were taciturn on their walk back to the house, each of them following his
own thoughts.

"Listen," Fritz began when they reached the house, "you have been very
adventurous during the last days. How about another adventure?  This time it
will be of your own will, and not something somebody else shoves you into. How
about it? I am sure you'll love it. Are you game?"

Jean-Marie nodded, he trusted Fritz completely.

"All right, then: go upstairs. Go first to your room, get undressed, put on a
negligee and walk across the hall to the last door on the opposite side.  Go
inside without knocking, get into the bed there, and wait in the dark."

"For what?"

"I won't tell you.  It's an adventure."

"Don't you think we have to go back to the dance?"

Fritz looked at his watch.

"No, it is half past twelve already.  People will be breaking up soon, anyway."

Jean-Marie did as he was told. He found the room and entered. The light falling
in from the hall had shown him a bed in the middle of the wall at right. He
closed the door: it was completely dark. Slowly, he groped his way to the bed
and slipped under the covers. His nerves were tingling with excitement.

After his eyes had adapted to the darkness, he could see a little by the
moonbeams streaming through the windows. He was alone.

About five or ten minutes later, a door in the opposite wall opened, and someone
entered. When the figure crossed a moonbeam, he could see it was a tall,
feminine figure in a flowing negligee. Was it Margaret? The figure came closer,
slipped off the negligee and was completely naked. The moonbeams fell on a slim
body, with lovely... albeit a little small... breasts; a slim waist, and long
legs. He couldn't see the face, as it remained in the dark.

The figure slowly slipped into the bed and immediately kissed him passionately,
stopping all possibilities for questions. Hands explored his entire body,
lovingly stroking his immature breasts, wandering down his legs, caressing the
insides of his thighs, and finally grabbing his cock, already throbbing fully
erect. The girl (or woman?) slipped on top of him, and guided his tool into her
warm and moist love nest, and slowly began to ride him to ecstasy... all this
without any sound.

They made love quietly but intensely. When the girl's movements grew faster and
faster and her breath came in short, pressed gasps, ending in a long, low sigh,
Jean-Marie could contain himself no longer, and he erupted in her with a small,
feminine moan which he did not recognize as the product of his own voice.

For some minutes they lay exhausted, motionless, letting their excitement cool.

Suddenly the girl said "Now you know my secret." It was the voice of Fritz.

"Is this really you? I mean Fritz?"

"Yes, I am Fritz, although I was born as Friederike. I am a woman.

Are you disappointed?"

"Oh no, I am delighted. But why do you live as a man?"

"It's very simple. My parents wanted a son as their heir and when it became
apparent after my birth that my mother could not have any more children, they
decided to raise me as a boy. So I grew up as a boy, running around with other
boys. When I was four or five, my mother cut my hair short and put me into
trousers... she said it made everything much simpler for her. I never went to
school, and always had a private tutor. I didn't even know until puberty that I
was a girl. It was a shock when they told me and I refused to wear dresses. I
was much taller than the average girl and it seemed to be better to let me live
as I wanted to."

"After graduating from school with an external exam, I decided to study
medicine. This was another reason to continue living as a man: They do not allow
female students in medicine at the university. All my papers had been changed to
show I am a male, Friedrich; Fritz for short. I have never had sexual relations
with a girl. Sex did not interest me at all. Only recently my feminine feelings
seem to have broken through and I have sometimes longed for a man. I even began
to assemble a female wardrobe, which I keep hidden here. Only my parents know my
secret... and now you. You see, I cannot change my status right now. I must
finish my medical exams and get my approbation as a physician. I am
contemplating, however, to reveal my identity later on, and to force the
authorities to accept me as a female doctor.  There you have it, in a nutshell."

Jean-Marie was completely nonplused. He had thought he had found a male friend
in whom he could confide, and with whom he could share his secrets, and suddenly
this friend had turned into a female lover. He certainly was not disappointed.
It gave the whole situation a new twist.

He slowly started to talk, the thoughts flashing through his mind in complete
confusion and he had to sort them out before speaking, "You know, when I came to
Berlin, I had no other choice.  I had to wear girl's clothes, as there were no
male clothes I could get my hands on and mine were gone. I had hoped you could
lend me some for the time we stayed with you, but you were gone, and now I
cannot suddenly change my appearance. I have to continue playing my role until
we get back to Berlin. By that time, my trunk must have arrived and I shall have
my own clothes to wear. Then we can be friends to the world and secret lovers."

"That is exactly what came into my mind when I heard your story. I wanted to
find out if you thought along the same lines. But I am afraid you'll have to go
back to your room now. If Margaret and Suzanne return from the dance, you must
be in your room. If they ask you why you left the ball, tell them you had a
headache and I told you to lie down after I gave you some medicine. Good night,
my love, and sweet dreams. See you tomorrow."

Fritz made Jean-Marie get out of bed. "He" rose too, and brought Jean-Marie to
the door. They kissed again and then Jean-Marie jumped across the hall into his
room.

"What an unusual turn of events," Jean-Marie said to himself before going to
sleep, "I  a man looking like a girl... have fallen in love with a man who is
really a girl. Tomorrow we will be the strangest couple ever, yet to all others
everything will seem to be absolutely normal."

He decided to play his role to the hilt tomorrow and ask Suzanne to make him as
girlishly pretty as she could. If... for the outside world... he would have to
be the girlfriend of his lover, young Dr. von Eltzen, he wanted to be the
prettiest girl in the land. Without confessing this even to himself, he was
secretly delighted that this situation gave him a good reason not to oppose his
feminization for another day.

The next morning at breakfast, Fritz asked Margaret's permission to go
horseback-riding with "Baroness Gloria" and was granted it as long as he would
not lead her on any dangerous courses, and be back by noon. Suzanne dressed
"Gloria"... as we shall call her from now on, since she had accepted her
feminine image her self... in the riding habit she had worn earlier for the
excursion into the Tiergarten park with Aunt Margaret.

When Fritz saw her, he said "The Baronin is really thorough in feminizing you,
hardly any woman is riding in skirts anymore. I'll have to change the saddle on
your horse."

They had a wonderful time riding through the fields and woods on a sunny
morning. It was quite warm for that time of year. After about an hour's ride,
they reached a small hunting lodge.

"My father had this built for his hunting excursions," explained Fritz.

He opened the door and invited her in. After closing the door, he took her in
his arms, drew her close and kissed her fervently.

"I have been longing to do this since I first saw you this morning."

It seems odd, Gloria thought. Fritz really is the girl and should be yielding
and submissive, yet in our relationship she is the aggressor, just as if she
really was the male. But he liked to play the submissive role and he even put up
a little fight against Fritz.

"Are you sure nobody can find us here?" he asked like a shy girl.

"Absolutely. There is only one key and I took it."

Only after this reassurance, did Gloria give in to the kisses of her lover...
and reciprocate ardently.

They kissed for a long time while their hands explored each other's bodies.
Finally, Fritz raised Gloria's skirts and freed her prick, gently massaging it.
Gloria unbuttoned his trousers and pushed them down and started to play with his
clitoris. Fritz suddenly broke away, seized Gloria and carried her into a small
room, putting her down on a cot. In a second he had straddled her and rode her
in lustful rhythm.

Their feelings were so high strung that they both exploded within just a few
minutes, but they stayed in each other's arms and kissed for a long time
afterwards.

"You can't imagine how I've longed for someone like you," Fritz finally said. "I
love you, dear."

"And I love you, too."

Finally, they broke away from each other and returned home. While putting the
horses away, Fritz caught Gloria in his arms and stole another long, passionate
kiss.

Gloria went upstairs to change.

"The exercise in the fresh air has done you a lot of good," Suzanne said,
helping her freshen up after the exhausting ride.

"Look at your rosy cheeks. Or is there another reason for being so agitated?
Fritz maybe? He is quite attractive, I must say. If he would take me out, I
would probably get rosy cheeks too... and without too much riding."

Suzanne looked at Gloria inquiringly. Gloria felt herself blush and tried to
hide.

"Well, little one, is it Fritz?"

Gloria answered with an almost imperceptible little nod, averting her eyes.

"I thought so. I watched you at lunch the first day... you couldn't take your
eyes off him, and you were visibly disappointed when he had to leave."

Gloria was angry at herself for having been so obvious in her actions at that
time.  However, she thought,  you think yourself so smart, and yet you don't
know half of it... luckily.

"All right, you're done." Suzanne finally stated after having put Gloria into a
smart day-dress with long sleeves and a high collar, all dripping with lace, "go
down and wait for lunch."

The minute Gloria had departed, Suzanne rushed to Margaret to tell her the news.

"Gloria has a crush on Fritz... would you believe it?"

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely, she just confessed it to me."

"Well this is great, it plays right into our hands."

Margaret was in high spirits.

"Maybe she turns out to be gay after all. Maybe the episode with Coco the other
night has pleased her more than we imagined. Well, all we have to do, is to step
up the feminization process and subtly... and within the limits of propriety...
encourage the romance. Of course, we have to make sure that Fritz does not
detect Gloria's true sex. He does not look homosexual to me."

After lunch, Fritz asked Margaret if he could take Gloria for a walk in the park
and Margaret permitted it.

"In fact Suzanne and I shall join you. The weather is so nice and warm and it is
quite healthy to take a walk after a meal."

Fritz and Gloria looked at each other. This was not what they had hoped, but
Fritz couldn't think of anything to do but to thank Margaret and invite her to
come along.

"Stay back a little," Margaret said to Suzanne, "let them gain a little distance
on us, so they know we can't hear them. I want to watch them.  Their actions
will be far more revealing than anything we could hear."

She was right. When they saw that nobody was around to hear them, Fritz started
to talk quietly but intensely about his plans for the future.

"When you're back in Berlin, I shall visit you as often as I can. You must play
the adoring little girl."

"That won't be too hard."

Gloria grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

Margaret gave Suzanne a little prod with her elbow.

"You were right. They are walking hand in hand already."

Fritz looked at Gloria lovingly.

"It will be hard to find opportunities to be alone; the Baronin will watch your
every step from now on. Since she does not know my secret, she must do
everything to prevent my detecting yours. And right now, I cannot let her in on
mine. I first have to finish my exams. If she blew the whistle on me, all my
efforts would have been in vain, and I would be kicked out. You must help both
of us by preserving the status quo. As far as the Baronin is concerned, you will
have to play along with her and follow her wishes. As far as I am concerned, I
am a young man whom you find attractive to go out with... nothing more. Tell her
that I fell for you as a girl and that I do not know your secret, and that you
like me because as long as you have to be a girl, you want to have the company
of an attractive young man and when you return to being a boy again, you want me
as a friend."

Gloria agreed to all of it, nodding quietly.

Fritz put his arm around her shoulder as they were walking back to the house.
When they had reached it and waited until Margaret and Suzanne caught up with
them, he thanked Gloria for the nice walk, saying, "I hope I shall see you at
the dance tonight at the village inn."

He took Gloria's hand and blew a kiss on it.

"Thank you, Frau Baronin, for giving us the honor of your company and, please,
let Baroness Gloria attend the dance tonight."

He took her hand and kissed it, too, and finally Suzanne's hand before he left.

"A very polite young man," Margaret observed, "and very attractive too, don't
you think, Gloria? My, if you were a real girl... he would be a very good match.
He likes you, I could see this. Do you like him too?"

"Well, he is fun to run around with. I mean, ah... as a friend. The fact that he
is a man... I mean I am a man too and I mean we cannot ..."

Gloria let the thought hang in the air.

"Anyway, I think you should lead him on a little as long as you are Gloria. It
will be an invaluable experience to see the girl's side of a little romance.
Just stay in your role. And, of course, he should take you to the dance tonight.
Suzanne will make you extra pretty and you will be the most attractive couple at
the dance. Now go upstairs and rest a little before Suzanne comes to dress you."

When Gloria came down for dinner, she looked prettier than ever before. Suzanne
had outdone herself. She was wearing a long trailing dress in the palest blue
that left her shoulders bare. Her hair was done up beautifully and intertwined
with pink and pale blue silk-flowers. Her hands and arms were covered with the
finest white glace kid gloves, tightly buttoned at the wrists. Her make-up was
practically invisible, just accentuating the flawless skin and giving it a
little blush on the cheeks. The lip-rouge looked absolutely natural and the
mascara just colored the tips of the lashes to make them look longer.

Fritz took Gloria to the table and to the dance later. When they were dancing,
Gloria loved being in the arms of her beloved Fritz and the fact that she was
playing the girl's role did not disturb her in any way. Being a girl with Fritz
came so naturally. They danced together exclusively. It was true that they were
the most attractive couple on the floor. Gloria had learned to dance very well
as a girl, holding his train with his left hand and resting the fingertips of
his right on Fritz's shoulder. She handled her train as if she had grown up with
it. It was another wonderful night and they promised each other to meet again as
soon as possible in Berlin.

The next morning they had a leisurely breakfast before they got ready for the
train-ride to Berlin. Gloria wore the same traveling dress she had worn on their
trip out, and of course Suzanne had restrained her hands in the little muff
again.

Just as they were ready to depart, a telegram came for Margaret. She opened and
read it.

"Gloria, I have some good news and some bad news for you... but after all, it
may all be good news. Your trunk has been found. That's the good news. The bad
news is, it was pilfered, all your clothes are gone. Well, I had planned to have
new ones made for you anyhow, so there isn't much damage done."

Gloria was rather unhappy with this news. It would probably mean she would have
to wear dresses for at least another day.

In the train, just as on their previous train-ride, Suzanne strapped Gloria's
knees and ankles tightly together. This time, however, she went a step further.
She looped a wide ribbon around her elbows and drew them tightly to her sides
and finally circled her neck with a ribbon, which she tied to the head-rest of
the seat. Gloria could wriggle her fingers in the muff or her toes in the
shoes... that was about all she could do. She resigned herself to her fate,
convinced that this would probably be the last time she would be humiliated like
this and closed her eyes to possibly sleep a little bit.

Suzanne however was not done with her.

"Open up, Darling," she said and when Gloria looked, she saw that awful gag in
Suzanne's hand, the one Coco had made her wear the other day.

"Please don't, what if a-yvovy aw... mmfph ..."

When she opened her mouth in protest, Suzanne quickly pushed the gag deep into
her mouth and buckled it in the back of her neck in an instant.

"Don't worry, Darling, nobody will be able to see it."

She took a thick beige veil from her bag, fastened one end to Gloria's hat on
one side and draped it down over her face so it was covered from the tip of her
nose to below the chin, then pulled the other end up to the hat and fastened it
there. Suzanne tugged a little here and there, then took out a mirror and held
it in front of Gloria.

"See, the veil, the strap of the gag, and your face are all pretty much the same
color. Nobody can see the gag now. Am I not nice to save you the humiliation of
having to walk through the station with a gag visible to everybody? I know you
want to ask me, why I had to strap you up and gag you in the first place, but it
was necessary to teach you a little submissiveness. You ran around completely
unbridled for almost three days now and you forgot almost everything I had
taught you about being bashful and shy and modest. So, we have to shorten the
leash a little bit."

"You know," Aunt Margaret said after a while, "I have been thinking over the
situation and I have decided to keep you as a girl for the time being.  It is
the best solution under all view- points."

"First, you don't have any male clothes, so we would have to wait at least
another week until we could get some made for you. And if you have to go on
wearing girl's clothes for another week, you can keep on being a girl, as well."

"Second, to get a whole male wardrobe for a young man in your position will take
much longer. We couldn't just walk into a store and buy things for you. I owe it
to my reputation to have my nephew wear nothing but the finest things made to
measure for him. We'd be far into the summer before we could get you adequately
equipped."

"Third, you just started a little romance, which will give you a lot of insight
into a girl's point of view in these matters and which will undoubtedly be very
valuable to you later in life."

"Fourth, university does not start until early November and you have nothing
urgent to do until then. So if we want you to be a boy again, everything would
be much easier and without any stress for all of us if we concentrate on a late
autumn date for your return to a male existence."

"Until then, just relax and enjoy living as... no, being... a girl. I am sure
you will like it. And if not, you'll at least learn a lot about the feminine
side of life.

Gloria thought she would faint hearing this. She wanted to voice her protest
but, bound and gagged as she was, she had no chance and when the first impulse
died down a little, she saw that she really didn't have a chance.  Aunt Margaret
could do with her as she liked, anyway.

Then, when she envisioned her immediate future, being forced to live as a girl,
wear corsets, silken rustling underwear, dresses, high heels, being coiffed and
made up all the time, she felt her nerves tingle with excitement.  The
strangest, but most pleasant feelings ran through her when she thought of
herself prettily dressed in girl's clothes, the clothes that she felt about her
right now.

From the practical side, she saw that she could be a real couple with Fritz. If
she had changed back into a boy, she would have had to present a totally
different behavior toward Fritz, otherwise they would both be stamped as being
homosexual. As long as she remained a girl they could show their love for each
other anywhere.

XII. A Summer in Skirts

Life in Margaret's household had come to a sort of normalcy. Gloria was
continually being trained to be a girl. There were the lessons in ladylike
deportment, eliminating all traces of the male in behavior, gestures and other
manners of conscious or unconscious expressions. There was intensive voice
training and much more. She was kept busy learning to be a girl most of her
waking hours. And if nothing special was requested of her at any time, she was
tied up and often gagged.

When they had returned from the Easter-holiday excursion, Margaret had announced
that Gloria had collected eight black marks during the long weekend for not
being polite enough; not thanking their hosts at certain occasions, for not
curtseying correctly or forgetting to at all... mainly to Fritz.  Gloria was
upset that she was requested to curtsey to Fritz at all. He was just a little
older than she, but Aunt Margaret explained that it was very becoming to a young
girl to act submissive toward any gentleman, especially if he were an eligible
suitor. And Fritz already was a medical doctor and was due some respect.

Aunt Margaret then decreed that the punishment of having to wear the
elbow-straps and the single glove for a whole day for each black mark would be
defined as having to wear it for twelve hours.

"However," she said in a condescending tone, "I'll make it easy for you. We'll
split up the twelve-hour period into six two-hour periods. You can serve one
two-hour period each morning and one each afternoon. That will stretch the
punishment period for eight black marks from eight days of twelve hours each to
24 days of four hours each... but then it does not interfere with your
training... and possibly with your dates with Fritz, which I am sure you will be
anxiously awaiting."

Gloria was not at all pleased to hear this. It was bad enough to be bound in
this very uncomfortable way, but she had figured that while wearing the single
glove she would escape the stringent training planned for her otherwise. Now she
would have to endure both. And since the training more often than not involved
being severely restrained in one way or another, it actually happened that
during her punishment period, working off the black marks, she was tied, bound,
fettered and restrained in one way or another practically all day long.

The dates with Fritz... mostly on the weekends... were the times Gloria was
living for, and Margaret as well as Suzanne used this as the carrot dangling in
front of her to spur her on to achieve remarkable results in her "girl"
training. She was very effectively brainwashed, and there were times when she,
herself, almost believed herself a real girl.

During this time, Coco became a regular visitor. She had many useful tips on how
to train Gloria further, but more and more an intimate relationship evolved with
Margaret. The night at the von- Eltzen-mansion must have touched Margaret deeper
than she had imagined it could. Margaret paid very little attention to Gloria
when Coco was around, and even more surprising was the fact that, with Coco,
Margaret was not her usual haughty self; she became almost submissive.

On Coco's suggestion, they went with Gloria to see the doctor, who had treated
Coco quite successfully in her change to a more girlish body. The doctor
diagnosed a slight case of gynecomastia with Gloria and stated that this could
probably be treated to achieve the desired results. Margaret had warned Gloria
not to interfere and be quiet, no matter what she would discuss with the doctor,
if she wanted to retain any hide on her back. Knowing she did not joke, Gloria
kept quiet.

The doctor finally explained "We are in the middle of experiments with extracts
from genital glands from certain animals and their effects on others. We have
found that certain extracts of such glands can change the whole outward
appearance of the recipient animal, even if the recipient is a totally different
animal."

He went on in scientific terms, which none of his guests could follow. He
therefore closed, stating, "what it boils down to, we think we have found some
substances, which can give an individual, even a human, the outward appearance,
mainly the secondary genital characteristics of the opposite sex. Men lose their
beard and body hair, develop breasts and wider hips while narrowing in their
waists, they get a higher voice etc. Your friend Coco here is a pretty good
example. He has now stopped the treatment because it started to impair his sex
drive, but he still comes around now and then for a refresher, to maintain the
status reached."

"The trouble is, we cannot get enough material to experiment with.

We get all available glands from the Berlin stock-yards, but a lot spoils before
we can process it and the extracting process is so expensive that the results
can never be turned into a drug that can be put on the market. But we are
working on it."

"Well, if I may support your work a little, I'll write you a nice check and I
hope you can help my nephew here to achieve the new body he desires so much."

"Thank you Frau Baronin, I shall take it as your grant toward progress in
science. I hope we can help the young man here. However I have to tell you that
there is a group of scientists in New York, who work in the same field and I
have a suspicion that they are even more advanced than we here. Maybe you should
see them."

From that day on, Gloria had to take a preparation, brought over from the
university clinic by messenger, with every meal. Soon after the treatment
started, Gloria noticed that her nipples were growing in size and becoming more
sensitive and her fleshy breasts grew even fleshier. When properly laced into a
corset, she now had two remarkable mounds, almost as much as many girls of her
age had.

If it had not been for the endless little tyrannies exercised by Margaret and
Suzanne, her life as a girl would have been really pleasant. They went out a
lot, during the day to the race tracks or to exhibitions, or were invited to
teas, and at night to theater and cabaret shows. There was so much to see and to
discover for Gloria in the big city.

Both Margaret and Suzanne took great care that Gloria was always dressed just
right for each occasion. Nothing had ever been returned from the wardrobe they
had brought back from Madame Heloise, on the contrary, more things were added
almost daily, sometimes a hat, a pair of gloves or smart high heeled boots
colored to match a certain dress, sometimes a dress or a cloak for a certain
occasion. Going shopping or visiting fashion salons actually took up a lot of
their time and inevitably something was added to Gloria's already big wardrobe.

Suzanne was extremely fertile in thinking up restraints that would not show but
severely restricted Gloria's freedom to move. Almost every time they went out,
Gloria was secretly restrained somehow. Almost continually she had to wear a
petticoat, which hobbled her legs relentlessly. It was so tight that she could
take only the tiniest steps and when she sat down, which pulled it up just a
little, it would actually tie her calves and thighs tightly together.

Of course, while they were at home, Gloria's hands were always strapped together
on her back, either in the single glove (working off black marks) or simply
handcuffed. She was not released for meals even, either Suzanne or Margaret had
to feed her and usually she was fed less than she wanted. The result was a much
slimmer figure within weeks and... of course... tighter corsets.

One day in June, Margaret came up with the idea for a trip to Paris and urged
Gloria to accompany her.

"Just think, we could go to the Paris designers and buy some really elegant
things for you. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"Yes, I think so, I would love to go with you, but then I would have to go as a
boy.  I do not have a passport and if I'd get one, I could only get one for
Jean-Marie, a male, not for a girl."

Gloria was nursing the hope that this could be her chance to return to male
clothes.

"Now, don't you worry your little head. I have already taken care of this."

"You know you were born in the United States. This automatically makes you a
U.S. citizen. I thought it is always an advantage to have two passports and
therefore started some enquiries. I hired an agency in New York to find your
birth certificate... and I was successful. The agency, however, reported at
first that there was no male baby with the name of Jean-Marie listed for your
date of birth.  There was, however, a Mary-Jane  a girl... registered in the
town where you were born."

"I made them investigate more thoroughly and it turned out that evidently your
father had sent one of his workers from the railroad camp to the next town to
register your birth and this guy had to pass one or two saloons on his way to
the town hall. When he finally arrived there, he only remembered that the baby
was to have a double name, one of the two was Mary and the other had a funny
French sound but started with a J. When the registrar suggested Mary-Jane, he
had said "that's probably it"... and so you were registered as a girl."

"I have asked the U.S. Consul General for a passport for you based on your
birth-certificate and, with a little persuasion to cut through some bureaucratic
red tape, he issued it. Here it is: your passport with your photograph.  It
shows you are Mary-Jane von Leydenburg, female, a U.S.  citizen... officially
stamped and sealed."

That certainly stuck a needle into the balloon of Gloria's hopes. She could
foresee that this would only multiply the possibilities for Margaret to dress
her as a girl in the future. Jean-Marie's existence as Gloria was now officially
recognized and sanctioned.

They went to Paris a week later, Margaret, Suzanne and Gloria. The trip itself
was wonderful. Gloria, however, would have enjoyed it even more without the
little tyrannies of Suzanne, who really seemed to delight in every little
fiendish cruelty she could exercise on Gloria... and she was very imaginative.
She never passed up an opportunity to remind Gloria that she was a mere boy and
did not belong to the superior species of women even if she looked like one.

Margaret had mellowed down a lot, but basically followed her initial plan to
turn her nephew into a girl and thereby make him completely dependent on her,
eliminating any chance that he might have to meddle in her affairs. If he acted
as a girl, she came to accept him as such and showered him with her affection.
Gloria noticed this and to get to her good side, she played the girl role to the
best of her ability. When Margaret suggested they visit the famous Salon Worth,
the most eminent of the Paris designers, the epitome of the Haute Couture,
Gloria was enthusiastic. They went and for an outrageous price Gloria got a
beautiful evening dress and Margaret bought a house dress for herself, another
one for Coco, and a walking dress for Suzanne. They also visited the salon Rouff
and a newcomer, who had opened her couture house only a year ago, Jeanne Lanvin.
Here too, they bought dresses for all of them.

Paris was... no doubt about that... the cultural center of the western world at
that time and Gloria fell in love with it right away. The "Grands Boulevards"
were full of elegant dandies and fashionably dressed women... apparently there
were a lot of people in Paris who didn't do anything but enjoy life. It was said
that some of the highly paid courtesans ran literary salons where you could meet
all the famous writers, poets and composers of the time. And of course... the
courtesans were always the avant-garde of fashion, as their rich escorts were
proud to be seen with them in all their beauty, and they strived to outdo each
other.

Gloria would have loved to be a part of it as a male, but as a pure and
protected young girl these doors had to remain closed to her. It was therefore
partly with regret, partly with relief that she returned to Berlin.

After the relative freedom Gloria had experienced in Paris, Margaret felt it
necessary to draw the reins a little tighter after their return and when her
personal maid asked for two weeks off to visit her family, she made Gloria fill
the empty spot.

Gloria then was required to sleep in a little room just off Margaret's bedroom
and to perform all the services of a personal maid. She was also required to
wear a uniform, which was specially made for her. During this time she learned
to wash Margaret's dainty lingerie, to clean and press her dresses, to polish
her shoes, and to attend to her "toilette" by dressing and undressing her,
brushing her hair and do all the many other little things required of a maid.

Gloria enjoyed most of the tasks because it gave her an opportunity to be very
close to "Madame", whom she still worshiped. Margaret however kept her distance.
After all, Gloria was now only a servant and one does not associate too closely
with these.

The summer passed and toward the beginning of September Margaret announced that
she had commissioned a famous portrait painter to do Gloria's picture.

"I want something to remind you and me of your time as a girl," she told Gloria.

The next week the painter, a professor from the Berlin Arts College, started.
Gloria was to be painted wearing the Worth evening gown. The trouble was, she
could not hold the required pose long enough. Her arms would sink, her head
turn, her body move as she shifted weight from one foot to the other... the
professor got furious. He complained to Margaret about it. The result was that
two days later two workmen brought in a steel rack with movable parts. Gloria
was made to back up toward it and in no time at all she was fastened against it
in just the exact way the professor had requested it... completely unable to
move. All she could do was blink her eyes.

The professor worked for two or three hours every morning, when the light was
the best. For Gloria it was like being bound to a stake of torture.  She felt
like a butterfly on a pin in a butterfly collection. She was always ready to
fall down as soon as she was released. However sometimes Suzanne, who should
release her, took her time getting around to it.  Sometimes she played with her
helpless captive, reaching under her skirts for instance and caressing her
thighs, massaging her prick in its confines until Gloria thought she would pass
out from pent up desire.

One day... Gloria was again immovably stretched and fastened against her rack
and the professor was painting quietly... the doorbell rang and when the
parlor-maid opened, Gloria heard two military officers enter and ask whether
Jean-Marie von Leydenburg was living here. The maid asked them to enter and led
them into the room where the professor worked. After a minute Margaret appeared
and asked the officers what they wanted.

"We have a warrant here for a certain Jean-Marie von Leydenburg.

When he left his school, he gave this as his future address. He failed to report
for military service and is now wanted as a deserter. If we find him, we have to
arrest him and take him to jail. Is he with you?"

"Most certainly not. I do not give shelter to deserters."

"May we look around?"

"Of course, and if you find any young man in the house, I would be most
interested to meet him."

Of course, the search was in vain. Margaret, however, seemed to be quite upset
about the incident. As soon as they were gone and the Professor was out of the
house, she called Gloria and explained to her that her house was not a safe
place for her anymore. There would be a very good chance that they would check
the registers of the inhabitants at the police station and find a Mary-Jane
registered, born on the same day and in the same place as the Jean-Marie they
were looking for. That would certainly cause suspicion and they would be back to
check this coincidence.

"You'll have to leave... and the sooner, the better. You have an American
passport, you should go to America."

"But in America I'll have to be a girl, I am a female according to my passport."

"So what, it is much better to live in America as a girl for a while, than sit
in jail as a deserter over here. I have an idea: I'll send you to a finishing
school there. It'll only be a few months until I can clear up things here and
the heat will be off. And it'll do you a lot of good. The world is getting
smaller everyday and it is good to know the English language. Your Latin and
Greek will not help you very much when you'll travel later on. You'll have to
learn English, anyhow."

Gloria could not argue with her. She was absolutely right. He suddenly was the
boy Jean-Marie again and a very frightened one too. The farther away he was from
this mess, the better it seemed to him.

Three days later, he departed from Le Havre, a fashionable young lady on her way
to a finishing school on Long Island, chaperoned by a young governess...
Suzanne, of course. He didn't even have the time to say goodbye to Fritz; he had
just managed to send him a postcard from the train.

What he didn't know was that the whole affair with the officers looking for him
was staged by Margaret to get him off to this school... close to New York, where
the scientists that Coco's professor had mentioned, worked. Margaret had made a
sizeable grant to their institute in return for the promise of the complete
feminization of her nephew. Actually he had been exempted from military service
months ago on account of a paper that the professor in Berlin had prepared and
which declared him unfit for the service for medical reasons.

XIII. The Finishing School

When they arrived, they went to see the doctors first. Jean-Marie, now
Mary-Jane, got a thorough check-up and was declared fit for the treatment. The
daily dosages of the drugs he was to take would be sent out to Long Island by
special courier every day.

"We hope to be able to isolate the active substances in our extract within the
next year or so and then be able to transfer it into a form that can be taken as
pills," one of the doctors said to Mary-Jane, "right now we are still in an
experimental state. We know that it works, we do not yet know why and exactly
what does the work. With you and a few others like you, we are doing our first
tests with human beings. We therefore want you to keep a diary and take notes on
every change you feel in your body or any extraordinary occurrences, how you
feel generally, and particularly your sexual feelings."

Mary-Jane... not understanding the language... was under the impression that
this was just the medical check-up before entering the finishing school. Had he
known how his fate was decided right there, he would have heavily protested.

Before Suzanne and Mary-Jane set out for Long Island, they went to see
Margaret's New York lawyer. He was commissioned to do a legal name change
procedure for Mary-Jane. Her very common first name, Margaret had determined,
did not go well with her aristocratic last name, and it should be changed to
Gloria. The lawyer promised to take care of everything: it would just take some
time, but before Mary-Jane returned to Berlin, the name change would be official
and her passport changed to Gloria.

The finishing school turned out to be a very modern mansion in the English
country manor style. Mary-Jane was introduced as Gloria right away. After
Suzanne had left, Gloria was requested to appear at the headmistress' office.
The headmistress spoke French and although Gloria had not been at the top of his
class in it, the visit to Paris had helped and so he could follow the
explanations of the headmistress.

"Your guardian has enrolled you not just to finish your education and learn our
language, you will also be given the total feminization treatment, meaning that
we shall change your body completely to that of a girl... with one exception.
With medical help we shall give you the breasts and the figure of a girl with a
very small waist and ample hips and a beautiful round behind. We shall remove
all ungirlish body hair so thoroughly that it will never grow back. We shall
train your voice, your movements, your total personality to those of a demure,
pretty girl. We have done it before and we shall do it again with you."

Gloria at first thought he misunderstood her. Being dressed as a girl... that he
had had to agree to. But what was this about "total feminization"?

"Mais je ne le veux pas, I do not want this, you have no right to do this to me,
I want to be a man, an engineer, I do not want to become a girl," he protested
after the headmistress had explained it again and the whole truth became
apparent to him.

"We have every right to do it. How old are you?" "Soon I shall be 18." "Well,
until you are 21, anything you want is of no consequence to us here. We are
acting upon the request of your guardian and you may complain to her as much as
you wish. But until we receive different orders from her, we shall proceed with
the program required by her."

"We have had and have several boys here who live as girls. Some get the same
treatment as you, some are only dressed as girls for their time at our school.
It is not altogether that uncommon to send a boy to a girl's finishing school to
live there for a year or two as a girl. Some families do it because they want to
tame their pugnacious offspring and to instill into them some more respect for
the other half of the population. They are usually of the type the Latins call,
"macho," and being too proud of their manhood, they do their best not to be
detected. Some male pupils come here of their own free will, because they like
to live as girls. Presently there are three other she-boys... as we call them...
in the school among about 90 girls. Your roommate will be a boy who gets the
same total feminization treatment you will be getting... he loves it."

Gloria felt completely squashed. He knew he had no chance to escape: he was
trapped. He was thousands of miles from home in a foreign country with no money,
not really knowing the language. On the other hand, somehow he had come to like
being dressed as a girl and living like one.  Somehow it gave him an enormous
pleasure, he just did not want to admit it to himself. He still had the goal of
growing up to be a man and an engineer.  However at the present, he had no other
choice but to comply with the circumstances he was thrown into. He consoled
himself that surely everything they did to him would be reversible and as long
as he was there, he even could enjoy the exciting feeling of high heels, tight
corsets and beautiful dresses with long skirts caressing his legs.

His roommate was Robin, a sweet and pretty girl. Nobody would ever have believed
that she once was a boy. She had an absolutely girlish figure with a very narrow
waist, beautifully rounded hips and behind and... most astonishing of all...
magnificent real female breasts. Gloria found out later that they were very
sensitive. They hit it off wonderfully right from the beginning and were the
best of friends in no time.

Robin treated him as a girl, and if Gloria's maleness became apparent in any
way, Robin guided him toward feminity with an understanding that could only come
from a person who had experienced the same problems.

Outside of the normal curriculum, Gloria had special treatments scheduled...
massages, depilation treatments and other things... all intended to make his
body more girlish. There were specialists coming in to take care of all this who
used all kinds of creams and lotions prepared with herbs and other rare
ingredients.

The normal classes were directed at giving the girls everything an upper-class
young lady would have to know. There were classes in English literature,
geography, history as well as art lessons, singing and dancing lessons and
endless lessons in deportment and etiquette. In home economics, they were taught
everything a housewife would have to know to enable her to manage a big
household, including cooking, dressmaking and needlework.

Gloria... and in keeping with her changing  appearance we again shall use the
feminine pronoun for her... fitted perfectly into the atmosphere of the school.
By now, emulating a girl had become her second nature and was fast becoming her
first.  Being embedded into totally, more than 100% feminine surroundings made
her forget more and more her former life as a boy. Even when she wrote letters
to Fritz, the letters were those of a girl writing to her boyfriend, telling him
about her accomplishments in crocheting or knitting and other girlish things.

At the same time, her body changed visibly. Her overall figure became more
feminine. Her hips and behind grew somewhat and her waist... helped by the
corsets she constantly wore and the massages... became narrower. The most
spectacular change was the developing of a real feminine bosom. At first only
her nipples had tingled and become more sensitive, but over the months she
slowly acquired a set of breasts of which a lot of the other girls became
jealous. The girls... when they were alone and visiting each other's rooms...
often compared their physical assets. This practice was, of course, frowned upon
by the staff, but the girls were much too curious to give it up.

At first Gloria refused to take part in these parties, but after her tits had
grown and in Robin's and her opinion were presentable, she agreed to join. She
did not want to appear as arrogant... being of European nobility made the others
think of her as arrogant often enough. It turned out that Gloria had one of the
prettiest sets of tits in the whole school. And they were still growing.

At the same time her face had developed distinctly girlish features and her skin
was soft and free of blemishes. Her hair had grown out to reach almost to her
waist and shone in a lustrous golden blond. She became very popular with the
other girls, because with her ever changing body, she had to get new dresses all
the time and she would give away the things she couldn't wear anymore. She had
arrived at the school with a waist that could be reduced to 23 inches. When she
graduated two years later, her corsets reduced her easily to 19 inches and she
even had some gowns that required an eighteen inch waist. Of course, she could
not wear a corset that tight for a whole day, but for a night out, she could
bear it.

Sex, of course, was never mentioned officially, but it is impossible to coop up
so many young girls, curious about the facts of life, without an outlet for
their desires. Most of the girls had lesbian affairs with their roommates and
with Gloria and Robin it was not different. They made love to each other as two
girls, kissing, stroking, fondling each other, discovering every sensitive spot
of their bodies just as two girls would do it. The only difference was that they
had no need for dildoes, which some of the more audacious girls had somehow
smuggled in.

About once a month the school either held a dance or the girls were invited to
one held by a boy's college or a club. These affairs were tightly chaperoned but
in spite of this, the contacts these affairs allowed with the other sex were
enough for the girls to give them subjects for conversation for weeks.

Robin loved these dances. She went all out on these occasions to appear most
feminine and seductive, trying out her newly developed charms on an unsuspecting
male. The enthusiasm of Robin rubbed off on Gloria and soon both were competing
for the attentions of the boys. They took special care with their dressing and
their make- up. Invariably they laced each other to the smallest possible
dimensions. Gloria had a slight advantage, because she had more gowns and shoes,
but Robin was very imaginative in altering the things she had to make them look
different. Both always tried to show as much as possible of their bosoms. Once,
Gloria was banned from a dance because at a rather wild polka her tits had
jumped out of their lacy beds above the corset and were completely uncovered.
The boy she was dancing with almost popped his eyes out.

Margaret had sent Suzanne over to bring Gloria home after graduation. Like true
girls, Robin and Gloria shed tears by the bucket at their parting. Robin brought
them to the pier and did not stop waving her handkerchief until the vessel could
not be seen anymore. They had vowed to make every effort to meet again.

Suzanne, pretty and scheming as ever, immediately put an end to the freedom
Gloria had had during her school days by again invoking the severe rules for her
behavior that Margaret had put down during the first months of Gloria's
existence in Berlin. Primarily, this meant that Gloria's hands were to be
restrained behind her at all times when she was not required to use them.

Gloria tried to escape this as often as possible by offering to show Suzanne her
proficiency in needlework, but Suzanne limited these activities to only a couple
of hours per day, as more would put too much of a strain on Gloria's eyes, she
said.

To avoid sitting in their stateroom all day with nothing to do, Gloria persuaded
Suzanne to take long walks in the fresh air on the decks.  Invariably Gloria
wore a wide cloak for these outings, under which her hands were handcuffed on
her back.

Suzanne related to Gloria all the things that had happened in Berlin during her
absence. She herself had become engaged to Karl Becker, whom Gloria had met on
her first night out at the opera. Coco had sold her business to him and was now
living at Margaret's home as her companion. Their first encounter had developed
into a lasting and still very hot love-affair.

The news Gloria was most eager to hear, of course, was about Fritz.

Suzanne reported that he had specialized in what was just now becoming a new
field in medicine: psychiatry, and in about half a year or so would become an
officially recognized specialist in it.

They left the ship in Le Havre and took the boat train to Paris, where they
stopped for a few days for shopping.

"Your body has changed so much that nothing you left in Berlin would fit you
now," Suzanne explained, "and if we are passing Paris, it would be a shame not
to stop and buy you some new things."

Gloria was girl enough to enjoy the ensuing buying spree, even though it kept
her a few days longer from her reunion with Fritz. She objected strongly,
however, to the fact that Suzanne bought everything with an eighteen-inch waist.

"It's too tight, I can't stand being laced down to 18 inches for longer
periods."

"Don't worry, my little one, after a few weeks figure training with us, you will
be able to lace down to eighteen inches without any trouble."

Suzanne bought several corsets that closed at 17.5 inches even.

"If we lace you to eighteen inches, it is easier, if there still is a little
gap. And who knows, you might even want to be laced even tighter than 18 inches
to please Fritz."

Gloria's protests... as usual... were completely in vain and so she was equipped
with several beautiful new dresses with an eighteen-inch waist.  Luckily,
Suzanne did not insist on her wearing them right away. She would have died,
Gloria was sure.

The new hour-glass-line was just becoming popular in Paris and all the new
dresses had an exceedingly tight waist from which the skirt opened all the way
to the ground, spread out by a wealth of beautiful rustling and swishing
petticoats. The top accentuated the bust line and the sleeves were large
leg-o'-mutton sleeves. Blouses and dresses... except ball gowns... all had very
high and tight stand-up collars which usually were lightly boned at the sides
and reached to just under the chin in front. You could not do anything but keep
you head proudly erect in them.

Suzanne had her measured for new shoes too.

"You need shoes with really smart heels now to go with the new dresses," she had
told her, "I know a shoemaker who makes all the boots and shoes for the elegant
courtesans in Paris."

The shoemaker's shop was a very elegant little shop on the left bank of the
Seine. In the window just one pair of evening sandals were displayed, encrusted
with rhinestones and pearls and with the highest heels Gloria had ever seen.

"We want some shoes with really high heels for the young lady here.

She has a tendency to take long strides, unbecoming to a young lady, and with
the new wider skirts there is nothing to stop her. I think she should really be
perched on tiptoe in six inch heels, I am thinking of two pairs of walking
boots, two pairs of shoes for daily wear and two pairs of evening shoes,"
Suzanne explained to the shoemaker.

To determine the possible height of the heels, the shoemaker made her stand up
on tiptoe on a little stool as high as she could.

"You have very pretty feet, Mademoiselle," the shoemaker finally said, "however
they are almost too small for six inch heels as your companion had suggested I
make. I suggest that you wear shoes with heels not over five and a half inches
for comfort and I make you two pairs with the maximum of six inches for special
occasions."

"Of course you could wear even higher heels if your feet could be perched on the
tips of your toes like a ballet dancer's."

He bent down and brought out a pair of shining boots, their tops meant to reach
to the top of the thighs of the wearer.

"Here, I made this pair specially for one of my best customers, a very beautiful
lady. They are not to be worn in the streets of course, as longer walks with
them are obviously impossible. But she manages to walk around in her house quite
well to the enjoyment of her lover, who is an ardent admirer of high heels.
Actually, the boots are designed so that the weight of the body is distributed
between the heel and the ball of the foot: the toes would not be strong enough
to carry all of the weight."

"They are marvelous," Suzanne took them and held them against her legs. "Imagine
how they would look on you. Their heels must be 8 inches at least."

"Eight and a half." The shoemaker volunteered.

So far the highest heels Gloria had worn had been just slightly higher than four
inches, and she was afraid of the almost two inches to be added to the new shoes
and boots. And the long "ballet-boots" just frightened her. She imagined having
to wear them and already felt terribly restrained... but the thought of being
laced into them was also very exciting.

"You must have a pair like these, Gloria." Suzanne turned to the shoemaker.

"How long would it take you to make a pair just like these for my friend here?
We don't have much time but we will pay you a premium for fast work."

"I would have to make a cast of the young lady's feet to be able to make the
correct beds for the feet, but we could do this now. If you could come tomorrow
for a fitting, you could have the boots the day after tomorrow, late in the
afternoon."

"Done. Now let us select the styles we want for your other boots and shoes."

The shoes and boots were delivered on the afternoon of the day of their
departure. At first, she could not walk in them at all... even the ones with
less than six-inch-heels... and it took her a lot of training to be able to
handle them.

She was sure she would never be able to even get up, much less take a single
step in the ballet-boots, but when Suzanne had laced them onto her legs and
helped her to stand up, she found she could stand in them, but only if she
constantly shifted her balance between her feet, and after a few minutes she
managed to move around their hotel suite with the tiniest steps.

"In time and with enough training you will be able to move quite gracefully in
them," Suzanne told her.

After removing the ballet-boots and putting on the boots she was going to wear
to the train-station, Suzanne made her practice walking in them until it was
almost time to depart. By this time she was quite accustomed to the new height.
Of course, taking long steps was a thing of the past. Perched on these heels she
could take only the tiniest steps. Well, back in Berlin she could probably wear
the old shoes again with their lower heels.

While packing, Suzanne said "I don't think we should carry along your old shoes
and boots.  Now that you have your new ones you really don't need them and we
have enough luggage anyway. We'll give them to the maids here."

Poof!... there went all her hopes to be able to return to the comfortable
four-inch heels.

The day they had arrived in Paris, Suzanne had written a letter to Margaret,
describing her ward who had changed so much.

"Margaret dear, you cannot believe how girlish he has become," she had written,
"and I mean in mind and in body. His skin is soft and white everywhere from his
delicately arched eyebrows to his toes. There is not a single hair on his body
disturbing the perfect skin except for the exactly defined little blond triangle
at his crotch. His waist is very small, he usually wears corsets with a
nineteen-inch waist, but I am sure we can ultimately lace him down to eighteen
inches. His buttocks are beautifully rounded and soft, his legs long and slim
with small, narrow feet."

"But the most remarkable change took place above the waist. He now has a pair of
splendid, gorgeous female breasts. They are the size of rather large
grapefruits, pert and perfectly shaped, with large dark aureolas and very
sensitive big nipples. They are so sensitive that even the slight, caressing
touch of his lingerie makes them permanently erect and hard. They seem to give
him a lot of pleasure, because when undressed, he is always stroking and
fondling them."

"His throat is long and slender and his face has not a trace of masculinity left
in it. In his rosy cheeks the color comes and goes. His honey-blond hair has
grown to reach to his waist and if it is all piled up on the top of his head, it
is a truly divine crown of glory. His voice has changed to a soft, melodious
feminine timbre, which is very sensual."

"His mind has changed completely, too. His reactions are absolutely girlish. He
is shy and bashful, even timid, blushing at every opportunity. He is proud of
his accomplishments in needlework, dressmaking and cooking.  He is extremely
interested in fashion and his main concern most of the time is how he looks, and
he is constantly trying to improve his appearance. He spends hours in front of
mirrors combing and brushing his hair, primping and preening. He reads romantic
novels and sighs for the heroine as deeply as his corsets allow."

"In short, he is more girlish than any modern girl I know; he is a girl 200%,
the epitome of feminity. The years in the finishing school have completely
altered him."

Thus Aunt Margaret was informed of what to expect when she went to the big
train-station to pick up the two girls after their journey through the night
from Paris.

XIV. The Home-coming

For Gloria it was indeed like coming home when they entered the driveway to the
magnificent Villa, where her conversion into a girl had started. She was shown
to his old suite of rooms by Aunt Margaret. Nothing had changed here.

"I promised you," Aunt Margaret began when they had settled down in the
comfortable easy-chairs, "if the circumstances allowed it, you could return to
being a man. Now, I was able to clear everything, get you exempted from military
service, and all charges against you were dropped."

"You may now appear as a man in Berlin... if you wish. I have prepared some male
clothes for you that should be sufficient for the beginning."

Gloria... now suddenly Jean-Marie again... was completely surprised by this turn
of events. He did not know what to say or even think. First, Aunt Margaret took
every step possible to turn him into a girl and now... after she had reached her
goal... she was simply offering him his former existence as a man again.

"Well, you don't have to decide right now. Take your time to make up your mind
if you want to go back being a male. But I think you should try it right now,
before people see Gloria back in Berlin. In fact, why not start this minute."

She rose and went to a closet.

"See here: There are three suits, shirts, underwear, everything. So take off
your dress and everything else and I shall help you dress as a man again."

He was so used to doing what she told him that he followed her request at once,
and soon stood completely naked. Aunt Margaret gave him male cotton underwear,
then a shirt and trousers, socks and shoes. He put on all the things she gave
him. The things felt scratchy and rough, not at all as soft as the things he now
was used to.

"Come over here to the mirror. I have to remove your make-up and take care of
your hair. I don't think it wise to cut it now. It should be done professionally
when you want it. We'll just hide it under this short hair wig."

When she was finished, he looked into the mirror and saw a strange creature: a
girlish boy or a boyish girl. The shirt fitted his body closely and was pushed
out by his breasts. Aunt Margaret saw his doubtful expression.

"You are right; we have to do something about your breasts. Take off your shirt
and undershirt."

She brought a wide bandage, which she wound several times around his chest,
flattening and hiding his bosom. When he had dressed himself again, these
obvious signs of feminity had disappeared.

"You should stay in the house today, so you can get a better feeling for these
clothes. Tomorrow you shall go out in them."

All day long he walked around the house, up and down and tried to accommodate
himself to his new clothes. Free of the hampering skirts, the tight corsets and
high heels, he had expected to experience a feeling of freedom... but much to
his surprise, soon enough, the tendons and muscles in his calves ached and he
felt very uncomfortable without the security the corset had given him. Soon his
back ached too from the unaccustomed strain. His muscles evidently were not used
to holding up his body any more. He complained to Aunt Margaret about this.

"Well, then tomorrow you shall wear a corset under your suit. In fact many men
do, especially the smart officers of the Guard Regiments, who want to keep a
trim figure."

At dinner Aunt Margaret revealed to him that Fritz had let her in on his secret.
Fritz was presently in Vienna for some post- graduate work in psychiatry. Fritz
still lived as a man and had not yet decided if and when he would reveal his
true sex. He loved his work so much and he feared he could not continue working
in his field as a doctor if he made it known that he was in fact a woman.

"Well, when he returns, both of you can decide what to do about this situation,
if you are still in love with each other... although from what I hear from
Fritz, you must have made a lasting and deep impression on him.  Anyway, if you
live as a man when he returns, you can be friends with him and try to hide the
fact that you are lovers too. Probably you will both soon be regarded as
homosexuals, but Berlin is pretty liberal in this respect, especially if it
concerns people of a high social status. Of course, if you decide to live as a
girl, there would be no such problems. But first we shall find out how you like
being a man."

At night he was glad to be able to slip into his high-heeled mules and don a
soft silken nightie. The simple cotton underwear had felt so rough and scratchy
that he was glad to take it off and the bandage that had imprisoned his bosom
was everything but comfortable.

The next morning Suzanne came to help him, and he asked her to lace him into one
of his corsets.

"But not too tightly, please.  I just want it to hold everything together."

Suzanne, however, proceeded to lace him as tightly as ever, until the sides were
closed at 19 inches.

"If you want to wear a corset, you'll have to wear it properly laced.

Now, to hold up your trousers, you just have to pull in the belt a few more
holes."

He did not notice how much wearing the corset influenced his movements,
particularly his walk.

After breakfast, the three of them drove into the city in an open carriage: Aunt
Margaret and Coco, both of them dressed to the hilt, and the re-born Jean-Marie.
His outfit was very stylish, too... he looked a perfect dandy. Everything
matched and fitted perfectly... even too perfectly for a man, one could say.

As usual, they created a lot of interest wherever they appeared. Jean-Marie
noticed that many looks rested on him longer than on the two ladies he was
accompanying. The glances showed curiosity, as if there was something unusual
about him.

When they went to a restaurant at lunch, the head-waiter greeted them effusively
"Welcome, Mesdames. You look wonderful today... and it is a wonderful day today,
isn't it? Would you care to follow me, Mesdames, I have a wonderful table here
right at the window, so you can look out to the street."

He summoned two other waiters and when the little party had reached the table,
the waiters held the chairs for all three of them.

When the head-waiter brought the menu, he kept addressing the party as
"Mesdames", never once referring to Jean-Marie as "Monsieur". Could it be that
the head-waiter mistook him for a girl?

When he offered champagne for "Les Dames" Aunt Margaret, to whom he had
addressed himself all the time said "Yes, please bring us two glasses and for
the young gentleman please bring us a lemonade."

The headwaiter looked at Jean-Marie with an amused smile.

"For the young gentleman? Of course, if you wish Madame, for the young
gentleman. One lemonade and two glasses of champagne, very well Madame."

There it was clear, the head-waiter had mistaken him for a girl wearing men's
clothes. Jean-Marie was so humiliated he wanted to disappear into the floor.
What made it worse was that the head- waiter, even after Margaret had corrected
his error, thought that Margaret had not told the truth and he obviously still
took him for a girl, addressing him as a male only to humor Aunt Margaret.

This was not the only incident... whenever they talked to someone, in shops or
at a cafe, everybody treated Jean-Marie as a girl, or... worse yet... some
people addressed him as a male but in a way that was meant to show that they
were "in on the joke".

Jean Marie could not understand why this happened. He was a man, dressed as
one... and yet everybody took him for a girl. It was so distressing and
humiliating. All the time he was dressed as a girl, nobody ever questioned his
sex, never did anybody take him for anything other than what his manner of dress
proclaimed. Neither did anybody take Coco for the male that he was, which should
have been proof enough that clothes make the man (or girl). But why then didn't
the male clothes he was wearing now make him a man? He didn't understand the
world anymore.

He stayed quiet for most of the afternoon, while Aunt Margaret and Coco
obviously had a wonderful time.

When they had returned to the mansion and sat down after dinner in the hall, he
asked Aunt Margaret and Coco why everybody took him for a girl.

"Very simple, my dear," Aunt Margaret stated in a matter-of-fact tone, "because
even in male clothes everybody can see that you really are a girl.

The way you walk, the way you carry yourself, the way you speak and react, your
face, your figure... everything about you says "I am a girl". There is no use in
fighting it. You should acquiesce and yield to the fact that... with one
exception... you are a complete girl in body and mind. Come on, admit it; you
love your dresses; you love being a girl."

"Do it," Coco chimed in, "do admit it, I know how it is, I have gone through it
myself."

"But I wanted to be a male! I wanted to become an engineer like my father was.
It was you who forced me to become what I am now! It is all your fault, Aunt
Margaret."

"Now, be honest with yourself... I would never have been so successful, if you
hadn't cooperated. I could have dressed you as a girl for a few days, but
everybody would have looked through your disguise if the girlishness hadn't been
in you."

"I have discussed this at length with Fritz and  believe me he knows as much as
anybody, maybe even more than everybody else about these things. Maybe you did
not realize it yourself at that time... but from the moment I tricked you into
wearing a dress for the first time, you were hooked. You wanted me to force you
into feminity, you were just afraid to follow your own inclinations as Coco had
done before. Be honest with yourself only once, only today and admit that I am
right. Now go to bed and think about it. Tomorrow you will appear at breakfast
in the clothes of whoever you want to be in the future... Jean-Marie or Gloria."

He did as he was told, said good night and went to bed. Out of habit and without
thinking, he had put on his lovely, soft, feminine nightdress. He couldn't sleep
for a long time. The thoughts kept spinning in his head like cog-wheels. What
Aunt Margaret had said, had at least some truth in it. But if... And then ...
However ... What about ... And Fritz ... If he  ... No, if she ... But then ...
And Coco ... He did not know when sleep finally caught up with him and stopped
that crazy spinning of the wheels.

He woke up very refreshed and quite clear in his head. He knew he had to make a
decision today... NOW in fact.

He got up and walked over to the closet. There they were: his new suits, shirts,
socks and shoes. Finally, he could become a man again. All that was needed was
his decision. He would be a man again. It was so plain and simple. He was a man,
he would be a man from now on. Period. All right, that was settled.

Before he took out underthings, the shirt, and the suit he was going to wear
today, he turned around to where the dresses that he had worn before were hung.

Oh, they were beautiful, and he hadn't even worn some of them, the ones bought
last in Paris. He took one out and looked at it. He took it from the hanger and
held it to his body. Now, he would never know how he would have looked in it.

Well, he still could try it on just once, just to see how it would have looked
on him.

He was glad that he had not removed his corset last night... he had been too
tired for the hassle with the long strings. Now he just had to slip the dress
over his head and close the hooks in the back.

It was beautiful, but its skirt was too long, it stood on the ground. It needed
petticoats to make the skirt stand out better. He pulled on two flounced,
multi-tiered petticoats and fastened their drawstrings about his corseted waist.
He buttoned the long narrow cuffs on the long sleeves and the tight and high
standing collar.

It really was the latest fashion, this dress. He turned left and right before
the mirror. It was still a few inches too long. Shoes were missing. He pulled on
gossamer thin silk stockings and a pair of the new walking boots from Paris with
the extra high heels. They made him stand quite differently, pushing his hips
forward.

He opened his long blond tresses and wound them up to a becoming, simple hairdo.

He liked what he saw. He liked it so much he was really aroused by the picture
of the girl in the mirror.

He sat down and added just a touch of red to his lips and a little khol to his
eyelids; just a whiff of rouge high on the cheeks... there she was: a beauty.

He got up and walked around in the room, taking mincing little steps, from one
mirror to another, swirling his skirts, feeling the caress of the soft
petticoats against his legs. He was almost lost in a trance. He danced around a
little bit, always watching himself in the mirrors. He flirted outrageously with
his image in the mirrors, pulling up his skirts in front, showing the high
heeled narrow, shining, little boots covering well turned ankles.

He imagined walking through the park, haughtily ignoring the stares of the men.
To complete the costume for this occasion, he put on a saucy little hat
decorated with multicolored flowers, which he fastened by tying a pert bow just
under the left side of the jaw. He pulled on dainty lace gloves and took a lace
parasol... just as if he  were really taking a walk in the park. He loved it...
the image the mirrors showed him, the feeling of his high heeled little boots,
the swishing petticoats against his silken clad legs, the narrow corseted waist
and the girlish pretty face he saw, everything he saw and felt.  He gave himself
fully to these reveries, feeling content, cheerful and happy as rarely ever
before... maybe except when he was with Fritz. He wished Fritz could see him
like this. He was sure Fritz would have liked it, too.

The door opened and Aunt Margaret walked in, followed by Coco and Suzanne. His
daydream ended with a terrible let-down. It took him a few seconds to come back
to reality.

Aunt Margaret rushed towards him and took him in her arms.

"I knew you would do it. I was sure you could never return to being a man. You
are such a lovely girl, it would have been a shame and impossible to destroy
such a beautiful creature. I just knew you felt it, too, and would want to stay
as you are..."

"But, Aunt Margaret, I didn't mean to ... "

He tried to interrupt her gushing praise of him, "I decided to ..., I mean I
just ..."

"Manners, darling, manners. It's "Madame" and not "Aunt Margaret" and why don't
you curtsey when you address me?"

Aunt Margaret's voice carried a slight tone of reproach, which turned Jean-Marie
into "Gloria" right away. She could not help it; suddenly she was a timid,
submissive girl again.

"I am sorry, Madame, I did not mean to be impolite." He curtseyed respectfully,
"it is just that you told me to make up my mind and decide how I wanted to live
in the future and this morning I decided..."

"We can all clearly see what your decision was... you don't have to explain it
or make excuses," Aunt Margaret interrupted her, "on the contrary; I
congratulate you. We are all sure it is the right decision."

"But I ..." Jean-Marie tried desperately to explain the misunderstanding.

Aunt Margaret had already turned away from him, directing Suzanne to the closet.

"Suzanne, get all the ugly male stuff and throw it away. Nobody can use it,
anyhow. No male has hips and a bust that big and a waist that small."

"But, Madame, what I am trying to say is ..."

Jean-Marie again tried to get her attention... in vain.

"I know, I know," Aunt Margaret interrupted him again. She took away the
parasol, to which he had held as if it was the last straw to save him from
drowning, then she stepped behind him and took both his wrists, fastening them
together with handcuffs.

"I like your ensemble very much. It is very becoming to you. Just perfect for a
stroll through the park. But before we take it, let us all have a little
breakfast and discuss the future of our sweet Gloria."

Jean-Marie was completely lost. He was back to square one: dressed and looking
like a pretty girl and being treated as one by everybody. Fettered as he was, he
could not even successfully object, when Aunt Margaret steered him out of his
room towards her suite.

He could only blame himself for getting into this situation, he contemplated:
had he put on the male suit in the beginning, his decision would have been
obvious and clear. Completely discouraged, he saw Suzanne disappear, carrying
away all the male clothes he could have worn, if he hadn't given in to the urge
to try on the new dress.

Sitting at the breakfast table, Aunt Margaret made sure that Jean- Marie had his
mouth full and was unable to speak, when she took up the issue of his future.

"Well, friends, now it is decided and I am glad that Gloria is staying with us."

"And I know somebody else who will be delighted to hear about it: Fritz,
Gloria's admirer. I think with you remaining a girl, you are the perfect couple.
Fritz has told me that he probably would have to remain a male, if he wanted to
go on practicing medicine. Now he will have a very pretty bride and later a
beautiful wife at his side. He told me, he would love to have you as his wife."

"Yes, dear Gloria, I have promised your hand to Fritz and when he comes back
from Vienna next week we shall officially announce your engagement and have the
wedding late in June."

Jean-Marie was completely non-plused by this revelation. Fritz wanted him to
remain a girl? An engagement, and a wedding? With him as the bride?

Before he could regain his senses, everyone was already discussing the
details... how to announce the engagement, whom to invite. And then the wedding:
Where to hold it, who would be invited for the party and where the young couple
should live.

"My present to the couple will be the wedding dress for the bride," Coco
announced, "I can already see it... but I won't tell. It will not only be
elegant and smashing, it will hold a few surprises for the groom too. I plan to
deliver the bride to him as a delightfully wrapped package, ready for a
memorable wedding night. I have some interesting ideas for this."

"You shouldn't talk of such naughty things in front of our blushing bride,
Coco," Aunt Margaret scolded her jokingly and Jean-Marie, now totally Gloria
again, really blushed.

"On the contrary, we should use the time Gloria is still living with us to train
her for her wifely duties. I think she still has a lot to learn on how to please
her husband and I do not mean by cooking fancy meals and tending house. This she
can leave to the cook and other servants. She must know all the secrets of
giving pleasure by making love: in bed she must be a whore and a slave girl to
her husband."

"I think you are quite right. Let us start today."

For Gloria... once, a long time ago in the distant past, Jean- Marie... the die
was cast. She was and would remain a girl forever. Somehow, suddenly, she was
completely happy. The prospect of becoming the wife of her beloved Fritz erased
all doubts. She would gladly be his love-slave if he wished it.

She was already thinking of all the silken underwear, the tight corsets and
gossamer stockings, the beautiful dresses, boots, hats, and gloves she would get
to wear. Oh, she finally mused, it was not such bad luck at all to remain a
girl.

The End

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