By Sylvia Who?
1. Trauma on the Train
And so school holidays had arrived, and despite my mother's concerns, I had to travel part of the way home by train on my own, which is compulsory for all pupils at the end of their first term at Maidment school, to give them a taste of the 'big bad world' in their assumed persona. It was such a cold day for early summer that I was well protected against the weather when I had been delivered by school bus to Salisbury station with several of my classmates including Emily, and the forlorn looking Amanda in her boys uniform as we ignored the obvious stares and said fond farewells before boarding our trains home.
A porter carried my suitcases and found me a quiet compartment on the train to London and tipped his hat with a "Thank you Miss." as I opened my dolly bag and gave him a small tip. None of my classmates were heading in my direction, so I settled down to think long and hard about my peculiar predicament.
Here I was a normal boy, who had spent the last four months away at private school, being threatened and finally coerced into dressing and behaving like a eleven year old girl and gallivanting about like one of the creatures in "Little Women" trying to settle as comfortably into my seat as my tight satin and chenille corset would allow. However I felt I was no longer bothered by my quaint garb, highlighted by the straw bonnet decorated with a scarlet satin ribbon protecting my ringleted hair, held firmly in place under my dimpled chin by a broad, white satin ribbon, which vanity allowed me to observe reflected in the carriage window.
I glanced down and allowed my white kid-gloved hand to brush some dust from the bright red cloak draped over the pretty white anglais lace pinafore which covered my plain grey knee-length linen dress while in my other arm nestled Amelia, my antique edwardian china dolly, a charming present from Mummy, dressed in a similar manner to myself.
I stared down at my dainty feet encased in highly polished black button boots and pink coloured silk stockings above which peeped two layers of the frilled white embroidered pantaloons I was forced to wear as I reflected on how foolish I had been, fighting against displaying myself in public dressed in such exquisite feminine fripperies.
My quaint appearance prompted some questioning glances from my fellow travellers. In fact, the young boy about my age and sitting in the opposite corner positively squirmed as his bigger sister whispered - "Ronald, don't stare, its very rude!". The girl reddened perceptively at her indiscretion being overheard as I stared imperiously in her direction then dropped my eyes in feigned embarrassment.
Realizing her faux pas, she responded with an impish smile and leaning forward whispered - "I must apologize for Ronald staring at you, but we have never seen a girl in such an unusual school uniform before, please excuse us".
My heart skipped a beat at the closeness of such an adorable creature, "Umm;"-cough- " that's all right I am used to it", I spluttered awkwardly, my face burning and surely mirroring the scarlet of my cape, but unperturbed she continued: " By the way, I am Flora - and you already know my brother's name. We are on our way home after our first term at boarding school." which prompted me to tell her my name was Susan Brown, and I also went away to school and would be meeting my Mummy and Daddy at Waterloo.
"I wish our uniform was as nice as yours," she continued, "And you look so pretty in it too!". I nearly swooned with delight at this remark, as she motioned towards her regulation bright blue and white striped blazer with its emblazoned pocket and her navy pleated skirt, "My uniform is too much like his for my liking! - I wish our boarding school was an all girl affair.
"Snotty-nosed Ronald grinned as his sister brought him into the picture since apart from his short trousers and shiny black Oxfords they were dressed more or less the same, but then Ronald appeared to lose interest and was watching the Wiltshire countryside fly by.
I had warmed so willingly to my travelling companion that without really thinking I replied "Actually the everyday uniform I wear is much the same as yours, but we wear pinafore dresses and blouses instead, which is unusual for an all boys school " - umm-- "as well as girls that is!" Flora's eyes widened excitedly "Just as I thought, you go to Maidment School then?" She murmured softly. Thanks to my careless remark I felt as though the world was crumbling under my feet as she soldiered on, relentlessly, "You must have been a very naughty boy to be sent there?" "Err, - how do you know about my school?" I croaked helplessly.
I could see triumph and wickedness in those beautiful eyes of hers as she leant even closer to me, "My brother and I go to St.Marys! In fact we all know about the sissy-school down the road and the quaint uniforms the boys are made to wear for special occasions. - But this is the first time I have seen the uniform 'in the flesh' and I must say you make a very dainty and convincing 'girl'".
With this piece of information I now knew where I had seen that uniform before, as I recalled a panty raid on our premises a few months ago as I recalled a lad called 'Ronnie' was present on that occasion, and I glanced at Ronald's reflection in the train window and from the concentrated leer on his face I knew he was hanging on every word we were saying, but I also noticed a plaster on the side of his head which set me thinking that he was already well aware as to which school I went to and his face bore the evidence to prove it!
Flora had also realised he was listening in, as her next remark brought a scowl to his face. "Yes, Ronald knows all about the school for naughty boys, and our parents have promised to send him there if he misbehaves once more, so he is on his best behaviour, although I would 'love' to see little Ronnie dressed like you!"
The thought of spotty-faced Ronald dressed like me palled, but an idea was forming in my mind to entrap the obnoxious Ronnie. Meanwhile, Flora excused herself to go to the loo, and with the train carriage virtually empty, Ronnie promptly revealed his true self as he rounded on helpless little me as he stood up, swaggered up and down the compartment before delivering his little speech and confirmed what I had suspected.
"Thanks to some of your sissy friends at that school of yours, me and my mates got into hot water with the local fuzz, after being locked in your changing rooms, amongst other things; so now's my chance to get my own back." I must have looked as guilty as hell, so I made no attempt to object to what he had to say as he jumped onto the seat alongside me while I pretended to cower in the corner and set my dolly down on the opposite seat in anticipation of what was to come.
"Right you big Sissy-boy - flash me your fanny- and be quick about it!" he snarled threateningly. But as soon as he came within striking distance both my hands flashed out, and grabbing the waistband, ripped his short trousers down round his ankles before giving him an almighty shove making him fall in an untidy heap on the floor of the carriage.
Although the breath had been knocked from him, he shouted in anger and disgust as he began to scramble to his feet to wreak revenge, but my girlish squeals of fear and panic echoed down the compartment as I quickly raised my skirts and petticoats to my waist, and pulled my pantaloons down round my ankles, before shuffling off down the carriage as fast as my frilly leg-irons would allow while shrieking at the top of my voice in mock fear and desperation with Ronnie shuffling along in hot pursuit.
To the onlooker our apparent childish prank should have appeared quite comical, but the faces of our few fellow travellers were a mixture of horror and disgust. My flight was brought to abrupt halt as I ran into the open arms of the train guard, closely followed by Flora as I burst into floods of tears - "Gulp! - That horrible boy attacked me" I crieeed, as Flora stared past me at her hapless brother. "Right we are my dear, you are in safe hands now!" - " And as for 'you' young man", barked the inspector - pull your trousers up and go back to your seat and don't move until we get to Waterloo, the Transport Police may have words with you"."But Mister, I didn't do anything to her - him!" was his plaintive reply. But one look from the guard made Ronnie return to his seat, as he cowered, terrified in the corner and Flora gently led me back towards the loo and obligingly helped sort my rumpled clothing out.
Later that night in bed I ruminated upon what had been a successful days work, having connived to add that brat Ronnie to the list of Maidment pupils as he tried to protest his innocence of all wrongdoing following the kerfuffle on the train.I had expected Flora to take her brother's side in the ensuing recriminations, but a gentle squeeze of my hand just before our respective families parted company showed where her real sympathies lay after the confrontation at the transport police post on Waterloo station. So I could probably look forward to seeing her from time to time thanks to the antics of her slimy brother.
I felt most uncomfortable standing there in my feminine finery with the police, my parents and Flora's parents looking on as Ronnie insisted to all and sundry that "I was a boy and should be exposed as such," and furthermore "I attacked him first in the railway carriage". But the story of innocent little me with my knickers round my ankles being chased by a nasty boy displaying his Y- fronts as told by the guard was firmly fixed in everyones' minds! And despite his protestations, nobody believed him, and as we went our seperate ways I glanced back at Ronnie, a satisfied smirk on my face when I heard his father remark - "Nobody is going to believe you, Son, so don't even try - your fate is sealed." and he was in floods of tears as he trailed disconsonently along the platform behind his parents, having been informed in no uncertain terms that he would joining me as a girl pupil at 'Maidment' come the Autumn term!
2. My Return Home - A Series of Set-Backs.
The journey home in the car with my parents was punctuated by a question and answer session with Mummy quizzing me about the rumpuss on the train, while Dad was unusually quiet. "I hope a short,sharp session in skirts will teach that boy a little more respect for girls, in the same way it has for you Susan!" "Please Mummy, do you have to keep calling me Susan during the holidays? It's bad enough having to wear these clothes during the summer holidays as it is!" Dad now cut into the conversation; "I think he is right darling, perhaps we should call him Graham for the next couple of months to save his blushes in front of his young brothers." "Now you keep out of this David, this is girl talk, and she will be called Susan - do you understand young lady!" - "But Mummy - its bad enough having to wear girls clothes without having to answer to a girl's name." - "Okay then Susan, why did you call me Mummy and why do you call Dad, Daddy? You haven't done that since you were five?" - "Umm. well it feels right to call you Mummy dressed like this, and I like calling you those names - it feels the right thing to do!" Mummy caught my eye in the rear view mirror and smiled triumphantly as she scored an ace! -"Touche! - I think you win that argument dear!" A comment from Daddy to which there was no answer.
Fortunately it was dark when the car finally arrived home , so I think I was able to sneak into my house unobserved, apart that is, from Charlie our labrador, who made me welcome with a sound lashing from his tail, and Mitzi our cat, who was sitting on the stairs, and on hearing my voice, took one look at me and fled off upstairs in fright!
Thankfully my noisy brothers were away at camp, so having changed into my lovely yellow dress and white fluffy cardigan. the rest of the evening was fairly quiet as we settled down to watch the television although I was aware that all eyes were focussed on me most of the time, while Mummy kept calling me 'darling', and referring to me as 'Susan' in front of Dad. At bedtime I had a perfumed bath, with mother taking great pleasure from unpacking and examining my feminine clothes which now filled the spaces previously occupied by my boys ones which had all been shipped off to Grandmothers, although I found the absence of all my toy guns and soldiers and other boyish things, now replaced by girlie books, fluffy toys and dollies rather off-putting, while as for my furniture and room decorations? - Well!!.
She even handed me a pretty cotton nightie and fluffy dressing gown to wear while I ate supper downstairs although Dad just buried his head in his paper, since I believe he didn't really approve of the way I was being made to return home in girls dresses. But before I fell asleep I recalled worse was to come - my brothers were back in the morning!
I woke to hear the birds singing as the sun streamed through the bedroom window and since it was a Saturday Mummy brought me my breakfast in bed. "Do you like the way Daddy has redecorated your bedroom darling?" she asked as my eyes wandered around. I was so tired the previous evening that I hadn't noticed the pink wallpaper , flowered curtains and bed cover ,and the pretty dressing table laid out with a selection of dollies replacing my soccer flags and other boyish baubles. It was now the room of the young girl called Susan. "I didn't think you need have bothered, Mummy but its very nice." She was pleased with my response. "Daddy is very happy with the reports from your school and proud to have a substitute daughter in the house, even though he wont admit it." As Mummy left the room I wondered how he would like to have three daughters in the house and if he would then be so enthusiastic! - Time would tell!
I was halfway through my cereals when there was a hesitant tap-tap on the door, and in response to my reply my Father peeped round the door, and although I greeted him with a welcoming smile, his eyes widened noticeably as they focussed on my powder pink puffed sleeve cotton nightie with its generously frilled and embroidered yoke. But despite his discomfiture he managed to whisper as he threw a package on the bed - "Here you are son, the boys and I bought boys vests and trunks for you to wear under your glad rags. Even though Mum insists you go through this charade during the holiday, at least you can look normal underneath so you dont feel a complete fairy in front of me and your brothers!" As he quit the room and not wishing to disillusion him, I responded with a "Thanks Dad" but under my breath muttered "but no thanks!" and I averted my eyes from the offensive package and over to the pretty selection of girls clothes , lovingly laid out on the back of a chair by Mummy, -after all, he and 'Aunt Polly' got me into this mess, who was he to tell me what to wear!
It was a glorious day, so sunny, and I was felt so sunny in my brand new yellow frock that I skipped happily down the stairs, along the hall and into the kitchen and then froze. "That's a very pretty dress you are wearing Susan?" Daddy was winking at me from by the sink , where he was replacing a tap washer. I visibly blushed as coyly I lowered my lashes , my fingers intertwining in a pointless gesture, subconsciously trying to shield my skirts and nether regions from my father's steady gaze unaware as he was of my disobeying his instructions. "Yes dear, it was one of the dresses Susan chose as part of her wardrobe during her shopping trip with me to Bournemouth last week."
Mummy 's appearance at my elbow saved me from having to stammer an immediate reply , and I was pleased she didn't mention the unmentionables I purchased as well! But now, feeling re-assured I quietly thanked Daddy for the compliment, but he continued to enthuse mockingly over 'what a quiet ,well behaved and attractive daughter I made' and how he 'would soon get used to having Susan around' as he eyed me up and down, from my long, fair hair, my yellow and white flowered dress to my white frilled ankle socks and black patent leather 'Mary-janes'. I was feeling more embarrassed by the minute. "Come on David, hurry up and finish that job, its almost time to fetch the boys". Mother brought us back to earth with a bump, but for different reasons. An hour later the front door burst open, as the two remaining rapscallions in the family noisily invaded our peace and tranquillity to re-impose their territorial rights on the scene.
"Cases upstairs you two and a little less noise, your sisters home". Barked Dad and as the boys clattered off upstairs the one shrinking violet in the family sought sanctuary in a darkened corner of the conservatory where she sank thankfully into a wicker chair and was soon joined by Mitzie, who made amends by purring enthusiastically and soon settled comfortably into her lap. After about half an hour I was surprised that the boys hadn't made any attempt to find me - after all I was the oldest and they had always looked up to me. But Mummy eventually bustled out with a coffee ."Come on now Susan, you can't hide out here all day - drink this and come inside and meet the boys - and then you can help me with lunch." With my cover blown I tiptoed daintily to the cloakroom to go to the toilet before steeling myself to make my grand entrance into the lounge, but I was disappointed to find only my parents sitting talking away quietly, and having listened into their conversation for awhile I crept out again unobserved. "Yes Anne, his wings have certainly been clipped while he was away - and a good job too!" "I can't see him lording it over his gang once he meets up with his friends dressed like that!- and he won't be such a bad influence on his brothers." "But David, the unfortunate scene at Waterloo wasn't his fault.The boy's sister said that Susan was blameless and that the boy brought it all on himself and must pay the consequences."
With my parents comments ringing in my ears I half-heartedly went upstairs to my brothers' bedroom and slowly pushed open the door, but when I spoke I did attempt to sound assured and friendly. "Hi boys, how was scout camp?" The two boys were sprawled on their tummies in the middle of their bedroom floor playing 'subeteo' and my enquiry was totally ignored as they continued playing with their football game without giving me as much as a cursory glance. Their response was not what I wanted, so I clip clopped across the shiny wood block floor to where they were laying and in a fit of pique kicked out at their stupid board game which slithered across the room depositing the plastic pieces all over the shiny floor. Silly me! I had forgotten all about the way I was dressed, so when the startled boys rolled over on their backs and looked up, the annoyance on their faces soon formed into broad grins as they broke into gales of laughter at my novel appearance. Taking advantage of their prone positions on the highly polished floor they were soon propelling themselves across the shiny surface to get a better view up my skirts as they whooped with glee at the sissy way I was dressed - 'below decks', but as I skidaddled backwards towards the door to save my blushes, my shiny shoes slipped on the polished surface as with a mighty 'plonk' I slithered on my frilly bottom across the floor to crash against the far wall.
The looks on my brothers faces had me clambering awkwardly to my feet, and retreating to just outside the door terrified of what they might - or might not - have seen of my silky underpinnings- feeling visually violated and vulnerable from the waist down in my flimsy feminine finery. But now I had their undivided attention, I stood awkwardly, and impassively waiting for them to recover enough for me to explain myself. Eventually with the tears still pouring down their cheeks they recovered sufficient composure to pull themselves to their feet, so once more I tentatively stepped over the threshold into the bedroom as the door was thrown wide open by George who sniffed the air and declared jokingly - "Phew GIRL! You do pong of poo!" "That's not 'poo' but Mummy's perfume I am wearing!" Truculently I placed my hands on my hips and declared. "Anyway! Are you two ready for a fight?" But Martin just shrugged his shoulders and delivered a reply which caught me completely off guard. "We are the big boys now and we don't fight little girls, even if it is our sissy sister!" - "But I'm not your sister and I'm not a little g------" But for some unaccountable reason my voice trailed off and instead I sobbed and stamped my dainty foot in anger and frustration. "Girls like me don't wear boys trunks under their dresses - and if you don't play with me I'll scream and scream and scream!" I bleated as I buried my head in the puffy sleeves of my yellow dress at the same time realising the significance of failing to finish a sentence, which was promptly picked up by Martin. "So you do admit you are a girl?" - "No! - of course I don't!" I sniffed loudly -"it's just the way I am dressed makes me act differently that's all!" The reponse was a "Bye-bye-Girlie" from the doorway as they ran off downstairs with shouts of "pansy" and "sissy-boy" leaving me completely devastated and contemplating a bleak future.
After a while I wandered off to the kitchen to help Mummy but she was back in the lounge watching television with the boys. The back door was ajar and suddenly a small animal scampered into the kitchen pursued by Mitzie. I screamed in horror realizing it was a brown rat. Without hesistating, I scrambled up onto the breakfast stool where I stood eyes tightly shut, petrified that it may begin climbing the stool and up my bare legs - then on upwards under my skirts to end up goodness knows where!- I now had first hand experience of why girls were so scared of tiny rodents as I let forth scream after scream!
Within a matter of moments I became aware that my family were all congregated in the kitchen and now engaged in the excitement of the chase, as the terrified rat scuttled to and fro, eventually disappearing the way it came, pursued by the dog and cat.
I opened my eyes and slowly through the tears focussed on four pairs of eyes staring up intently at my elevated perch on the kitchen stool. A glance over their heads across the kitchen to the mirror soon revealed why! I was standing with the front skirts of my dress and petticoats firmly cradled in my arms on a level with my chest, unconsciously displaying a generous expanse of leg, and worse still, Mummy's special present to me, a gorgeous pair of yellow silk french knickers, the sort of things that grown up ladies wear.
The faces of Daddy and the boys were a picture. My lie had found me out. So for the second time that day, there were 'whoops' and broad grins from the lads. "Where are your boys trunks?" barked Dad, but under Mummy's disapproving gaze he turned and slunk out of the room.
"Susan - put your dress down this instant!" Mothers command brought me to my senses as I quickly brushed my skirts back into place before crouching down in order to gently lower myself back to the ground, as Martin gallantly offered his arm and George handed me a handkerchief to wipe my tearstained eyes.
I ran over to be cradled in mummy's arms while two thoroughly embarrassed boys quietly left the room. "There there darling its all over now - Mitzy has chased it away", and after a few more comforting cuddles, Mummy suggested I should now stay to help her in the kitchen.
"Here pet, put this pinny on to protect your dress," She held out a frilly apron which she slipped over my shoulders and then swung me round to secure the ties in a big ribbon bow at the back. "Its nice for Mummy to have some company for a change, especially since the boys seem to have disowned you, so lets get on and make ourselves a cake for tea". I nodded my blonde ringlets in mute agreement as I embraced my role as Mother's little helper and having recovered from my earlier shock I really enjoyed working in the kitchen, and even ventured into our partially secluded garden with Mummy to help hang out the washing and she said I was such a gem that I decided to keep her company until teatime instead of going off to watch football on the T.V., and I even managed to avoid any more comments from the boys although Daddy was far from happy with my submissive behaviour.
"I'm beginning to have my doubts about you, Son - perhaps you might be more acceptable as my daughter after all! - as it is - your Mother has raved about having you remain the one and only girl in the family if she has her way, so be warned!" These were the only words he spoke to me privately for the rest of that day but they gave me plenty to ponder over!
3. A Sermon to Remember!
Even though I was troubled by my new status in the household, I slept like a top, so was denied the opportunity to plan my re-instatement as top dog. After all, I found it refreshing at the way the boys had briefly treated me like a young lady, something I really savoured, especially when Martin dashed into my room first thing Sunday morning to borrow a pen, and although I was startled at his intrusion as I stared back at him brushing my hair while still wearing my brand new pink nightie, I think he was the more embarrassed - "Sorry Sis" he muttered as his scarlet face scuttled back the way it had come, so I might put their downfall on hold and continue to enjoy the deferential respect my new role had engendered.
I was told we would be going to church as usual, since there was to be a communion service and Mother had already arranged with the school for me to be confirmed in our own church, so as well as a princess style petticoat trimmed with lace, she came into the room carrying an elaborate see through white satin and lace communion dress, together with all the feminine accessories and fancy trimmings such as frilled lace gloves and ankle socks to enthral the heart of a young girl of my age although my immediate reaction was to protest that it might be the wrong size.
"Well I did take your measurements recently on last terms shopping trip to Bournemouth, so let me help you try it on." - "Mmm." she murmured - "You seem to have filled out a bit up there young lady?" - "You havent been taking anything at that school of yours have you?" I shook my head and giggled "Of course not Mummy!- I'm not that sort of girl!" But her quizzical look did set me thinking- and I was feeling a funny tingling in my chest area recently. With Mummy's encouragement I even got to wear some gold earrings - though only the clip-on sort and after brushing out my hair and tying it into two bunches with white satin ribbon bows, she held me at arms length to admire her handiwork. Martin was quite impressed and after I put on my red beret he even stepped forward and gallantly helped me into my bright red coat. In spite of my protests I was made to walk to church hand-in-hand with Mummy, while the boys tagged along behind, Daddy having stayed home, supposedly to finish off some D.I.Y.
I was soon tripping along blissfully aware that my lacy petticoats concealed a thrilling pair of frilled nylon rhumba panties despite Dads whispered instructions to wear boys trunks, as Mummy and I chased our sunny shadows along the pavement, feeling sheer delight and contentment in my new role in the family. However, my bliss was short lived, as one of the boys' shoes clipped the heel of one of my satin slipperettes, and I let out a little yelp at the excruciating pain much to the delight of my tormentors. "Right you boys! Walk on ahead, and if you dont behave you may end up with some of Susan's treatment". Mummy's rebuff was music to my ears, and my pain was soon forgotten to be replaced by fear as we approached the church, because while we were passing opposite the rectory gardens, Mrs. Rhodes the padre's wife and her three daughters, Paula, Geraldine and Fiona and young son Simon came down the path from the house. Mrs. Rhodes nodded and smiled a greeting across the road and after a quizzical look in my direction, she shepherded her family towards St. Judes, while the three girls craned their necks to have a good look at me, as they put their hands to their faces and quietly giggled to each other, so I had a foretaste as to what to expect when we arrived at our destination.
In the porch we were welcomed as usual by the padre, as he greeted Mummy with a generous handshake, and having briefly spoken to my brothers, enthusiastically turned his attention to me. "So this is little Susan? he purred - "My-oh-my! Mrs. Brown, your new daughter certainly does you proud". " That's a very pretty coat you are wearing young lady?" He beamed down and as he gently took my gloved hand in his, I lowered my long eyelashes to my now bright red cheeks and gracefully curtseyed to my mentor as my net petticoats rustled pleasantly in response to his compliment.
"Charming my dear, and it would seem your time at my old school has not been in vain - what a pretty girl you have made - a credit to the fair sex!" And I could hear my brothers sniggering in the background with some of their friends. "I believe you already know Paula, one of my daughters, she is being confirmed today, and I am sure she will keep you in safe company during the service and you must come and have coffee with us at the manse when your ordeal is over." Mummy gracefully accepted his invitation as Paula gave me a flashing smile of approval. - "Yes Daddy, but first Mummy is taking our photographs for the scrapbook over on the grass, and I am sure Susan will like to have a picture taken too!" But although I answered "No-no!" while shaking my head vigorously, I found myself faced by Mrs Rhode's camera as Paula stood holding my hand for re-assurance. "There that didn't hurt did it she squealed, before we hurried back to join the others in the church.
The communion service itself was something else, as I made my way to the vestry in order to process into the nave with the choir and clergy - not with the boys, but lined up instead with all the other little girls decked out in their confirmation finery as I stood hand-in-hand with pretty Paula. With the procession formed up, we followed the choristers on their dignified entrance and began the slow walk up the aisle, with the padre and rector following up behind. I noticed there were some fingers pointed accusingly in my direction, while the leers on the faces of my brothers showed how much they were enjoying seeing me humbled, but I was in such a state of blissful enjoyment cocooned in virginal white, my face concealed and protected by a gauze veil, that I was unfazed by such evil intent despite a stream of obtrusive comments. "Its disgusting! allowing that Brown boy to come to church dressed like that!" - "Did you read about the Brown's eldest son in the parish magazine? No wonder his father hasn't turned up today!" - "Look! That's him - or her! - the one with the white satin ribbons in his hair - it must be a wig" - "Its too embarrassing to look." - "Look, - he is even wearing a girls petticoat under his dress - as well as goodness knows what else besides!" - "A right little pansy!"
The caustic remarks came thick and fast but the organ soon drowned out further comments, although I did notice one family who we knew, quit their pew and leave the building! However, as we slowly processed everyone became aware of an unusual sound from the back of the procession,which seemed to drown out the organ! - the unmistakable 'clickety-click' of high heeled shoes upon cold stone accompanied by the barely concealed sniggers from the choir-boys in front!
This extraordinary sound was coming from beneath the robes of none other than the Reverend Arthur Rhodes. When we reached the altar rail, we halted as the choir made its way to the choir stalls while the padre passed through our serried ranks to take his place in front of the altar for the opening prayer. When he knelt down, we and the entire congregation were all craning our necks to observe the distinctive outline of the stiletto heels that the padre was wearing under his cassock, as the result of which I happily relinquished centre stage! During the introductory hymn, the padre's lower half was hidden by the choir stalls, but as he trotted over to the lectern to read the first lesson, I noticed the two bottom buttons of his cassock were now undone.
Clearly visible through the gap it was possible to see that on his well-turned ankles he was also wearing nylon stockings or tights, while the lesson he read was the parable of the girl who hid her light under a bushel, which seemed most appropriate under the circumstances!
As the te deum finished, I trotted over from the safety of the front pew to read the second lesson - 'He who casts the first stone', and thanks to the padre's high jinks my rendition barely faltered. A smiling Paula squeezed my hand when I returned to my seat and commented what a brave girl I had been under the circumstances which seemed strange since I thought her father's behaviour would cause her more concern - but not a bit of it! When the psalms were finished, attention switched back to the padre as he stepped forward to read the notices and conduct the confirmation element of the service.
Now three more buttons were undone to just below his white surplice and clearly visible for all to see was the hem of a bright blue flowery patterned summer skirt or dress, so I glanced over to where the rest of his family were sitting, but none of them seemed in the least perturbed, though by now the rest of the congregation were sitting on the edge of their seats, whispering excitedly to each other, keenly awaiting the next episode in the pantomime.
The confirmations proceeded smoothly enough, although some of the lads were red faced as they received the blessing from Padre Rhodes. There was a murmur of expectation as our padre climbed into the pulpit, and while he waited for the recessional hymn to finish he produced a red leather ladies handbag from the generous folds of his cassock and took a small mirror, which he propped up on the lectern, before diving back into his handbag to produce a make-up kit.
Taking a bottle of liquid makeup, he began to apply the concoction to his face with a cotton wool ball. The next instant he was holding in his hand an eye shadow kit, and leaning forward, head tilted back, expertly applied a pale green powder to his upper eyelids with a wand, and even used the tip of his little finger to blend in the makeup. As the organ died away he began to address the congregation while still concentrating on the task in hand before turning his attention to his 'audience'.
"My dear friends" boomed his deep voice, -"It would appear that for once, I am enjoying the undivided attention of my flock - no choirboys picking their noses, or our elder brethren falling asleep in the pews." He paused for effect, but also to flourish a mascara wand and bending forward once again began to decorate his upper and lower eye lashes to complete his eye job, but all the time holding his flock in the palm of his hand as he continued.
"My sermon will be based on this mornings two readings, beginning with, in my case, the parable of the girl who hid her candle light under the bed, which you will soon realise, is the reason you are seeing me behaving in this way!" Taking time out from the sermon, he picked up a lip pencil with which he soon outlined his lips in two fine bows.
"You will be aware that my family share the rectory with my eccentric sister, who is popularly known to you as 'Miss Polly' and naturally enough you are not surprised that she is not here today, or at any other service at which I officiate. This has led to much speculation about our relationship over the two years I have occupied this living. As you all know, Polly is very much active in the parish and the community and is well respected for her good works, but never seems to be present at my services, or church fetes, nor at any of my coffee mornings in the manse, and only attends services when I am away on business, although I can assure you, my sister and I are very close despite all the evidence to the contrary."
He paused once again to fill in his lips with a pale pink lipstick, before taking a tissue from his handbag and compressing it between his lips. I noticed that as he was speaking, his voice was getting lighter, and softer, with greater modulation in sound, while his body language also seemed to be gradually changing.
"As many of you may now guess, the time has come for me to make a clean breast of my relationship with my sister." - And so saying, taking great care to avoid smudging his face job, he slowly raised his arms and lifted his white lace surplice over his head to reveal the outline of two prominent mounds showing beneath his cassock. "Aunt Polly is a far more humane person than I could ever be, which accounts for her popularity in the community, and although I might display in public a consummate skill as an orator, in private, I as Arthur Rhodes seem to be a shy, retiring type, perhaps somewhat aloof from the everyday humdrum life around me and even finding it difficult to communicate with my family from time to time. It is just as well my shortcomings are made up for in spades by my 'sister' who generously pours on those around her an understanding and compassion to young and old alike in equal measure, which I can never match. In my family life my children look might look upon me as something of an ogre, whereas they all have a closer, loving relationship with Aunt Polly, with who they can share their problems, if their Mummy isn't about!"
He then paused to apply some highlights to his cheeks - "The other lesson - 'let he who is without sin cast the first stone' is the reason I now move on to the cause of so much interest at the beginning of this service, namely Miss Susan Brown, who is treading the same path that I trod many years ago. As a young lad I was very much a rebel, and it was in desperation that my parents took advice and I was sent away to the same school to which Susan here has been sent."
" The school maintains that 'persuading' malevolent little boys to dress as sweet little girls will at least curb, if not cure persistant bad behaviour, and the school records show the humiliation inflicted produces much more rounded boys - and girls for that matter. Many of the pupils find they prefer the alternative lifestyle which was imposed on them, and grow in stature, if not quite in the way that may have been expected."
" I too was subjected to, what seemed at the time to be an enforced feminising regime, but proved to be a path for willing participants only. When I first arrived I soon attempted to escape dressed in my girlie clothes, but after walking for a couple of miles on a freezing cold night in my flimsy attire, I abandoned the idea and unchallenged, returned to the safety of my cosy bed, and I remained at the school to become Head Girl."
" It must have taken much heart searching by the young girl who read the lesson so beautifully on this lovely summer morning, and otherwise known to you as Graham Brown to allow himself to be dressed in a pretty communion frock, and with much trepidation accompany his family to the church, and despite the sniggers from the boys, participate with the other girls in this confirmation service."
The padre became serious for a moment as he continued - "Although a certain amount of amusement may have been acceptable, Sandra was un-necessarily subjected to a verbal stoning of the worse kind of hypocrisy and bigotry from some of the so-called 'christians' in this congregation, I hope those guilty of deliberate shameless outspoken and unfounded criticism are ashamed of themselves, and will take the 'stoning' lesson to heart!"
His head disappeared below the pulpit to re-appear moments later, crowned by Aunt Polly's greying bun and wearing her tortoiseshell glasses, and having removed the hairpins from her hair, attacked the former bun with a tail comb, vigorously back-combing it into a mass of curls.
"My dears, - it is finished! - your padre has no further desire to hide Aunt Polly's light under a bushel and from now on I will be my brothers visible alter ego, but as you can see, she has now been given a long overdue makeover - she sure deserves it!"
She now undid the remaining buttons on the cassock and removed the vestment with a flourish to reveal the stylish summer dress we had only a glimpse of before as 'she' placed a pearl stud in each ear, spritzed herself with perfume, and removing her tell-tale spectacles turned to leave the pulpit, while the rector, responding to her gracious smile rushed forward to proffer his gallant hand which she graciously took in hers as she daintily descended down the steep stairs in her size 11 heels to the crossing, before leaning forward to plant a sloppy kiss on the bright red cheek of the unhappy man while he cringed with embarrassment at his involuntary faux pas.
"That concludes the 'floor show' for today, so our darling rector will now conduct the remainder of the service, and I will meet the church elders in the vestry afterwards." With that she turned on her heels and trotted over to sit with her family, while the congregation lapsed into an uneasy silence, stunned at what they had just heard and witnessed, while the red faced rector eventually found his voice to announce the final hymn.
After the service we accompanied the parson's wife and children over to the manse for morning coffee. "I have heard so much about you Susan, and we will be interested to hear how Maidment school has changed since Arthur was a pupil there- a few years ago now!" - She enthused as we walked across the grass to their home. While we were playing in the garden the Rhodes boy, Simon, who I used to play with, kept me at a safe distance, but his sisters, Fiona who was older than me, Geraldine, the youngest of the three and my new friend Paula, who was my age soon had me involved in singing and skipping games, as well as hop-scotch on the patio, while the three boys went off to play croquet on the lawn. After a few minutes, the two ladies appeared on the patio with their coffee and a tray of ginger beer and biscuits for us children.
During coffee, 'Aunt Polly' arrived and having informed his wife that despite his controversial sermon his job was still safe, trotted over to me and placed her gloved hands on my shoulders "Thank you Susan for helping me out this morning. You made me realize I was being less than honest to my loved ones or myself in failing to disclose this, my feminine side, to everyone in general, especially since I was instrumental in your placement at your new school in the first place." She motioned to her graceful figure clearly visible in the sunlight filtering through the flimsy material of her flowered summer dress.
"Well Princess, now that's out of my hair come and see my photographs". There was a discreet cough "Umm, how about us then Dad?" We all glanced over to where the three girls were standing." Don't we have a guilty secret too?" A red faced Paula stood transfixed as her older sister, Geraldine continued to have her say.
"Daddy isn't the only one with a story to tell, is he Paula?" but Paula remained silent. "Haven't we had enough confessions for one day, Geraldine?" chimed in Fiona. But with a shrug of her shoulders Paula cut in, - "Well, we did agree to spill the beans, didn't we girls? And for a moment I didn't have the bottle." and pointing to her sister, Geraldine, she announced with aplomb."This is my brother Gerald, and I am his brother, Paul, and like Susan here, we also went to Maidment to learn how to behave like young ladies, but now we attend the school your brothers go to" she gestured at her frock - "But always dressed the way we are dressed now - as Geraldine and Paula - so now you all know the dreadful truth, and we just hope you will understand and continue to be our friends!" Paula sighed and looked relieved that her little speech was over. "Bravo children." declared Mrs. Rhodes enthusiastically," Daddy and I are proud of you both." This bolt from the blue left my family speechless as my brothers eyed Fiona and the Rhodes boy up and down suspiciously."It's alright boys, As the eldest I am all girl and Simon is definitely a boy". And we nervously laughed at Fiona's final comment as Mrs. Rhodes continued - "Because Susan here has willingly shown acceptance of her role as 'A New Girl on the Block', we would like your family to discreetly spread the news of our daughters' decision to 'come out' to all their friends, hopefully for their tolerance and acceptance."
She clapped her hands together with relief - "Right Darlings, having dusted that off its time for Susan to see those photographs" announced Aunt Polly, and taking my hand she clipped clopped into the lounge where she proudly showed me her Maidment photo album together with her running commentary concerning the amount of leg being displayed, or the occasional glimpses of knickers in unguarded moments by some of the petticoated boys. The black and white photos featured the obligatory school groups of Maidment boys in their quaint Edwardian dresses, bonnets, pinafores and pantaloons, including one of the padre in his favourite pink Maidment school uniform and others showing the pupils in pretty party dresses, or practising in their ballet tutus and frilly tennis dresses , and at class in minikilts, white see-through blouses and long white socks, which were the norm in those days.
4. Blame it on the Boys!
Aunt Polly kindly ran us home in her car, but after the recent revelations, nobody felt like saying much. But directly the padre drove off, Mummy blew up! "Well I'm damned! The double life the Rhodes lead was so convincing, I was completely fooled, especially by the daughters". -"I must go inside and see your father and then use the telephone", 'So much for lunch' I thought to myself as we trudged silently indoors behind her. 'And I thought I had problems!' After dinner my problems blew up in my face, namely my troublesome brothers. I was washing up in the kitchen, following Mummy's suggestion that I go and change into the dress she had laid across my bed, since my confirmation dress boasted one or two grass stains - a plan I half heartedly went along with although I wore my frilly Maidment pinny as added protection to try to conceal such a short sissyish satin dress even though it was pale blue in colour . The two boys came into the kitchen from the garden and went over to the fridge behind me for a cold orange drink.
Meanwhile, I was looking for a drying -up cloth and in a somewhat boyish manner I was stretched out across the counter and was reaching into the top drawer on the far side of the breakfast bar. Suddenly I felt my skirts and petticoats being whipped up over my head amidst whoops of triumph from the boys as I felt the remains of the freezing liquid splash over my pantied bum (sorry - bottom) and the sticky substance dribbling down my legs to the floor leaving horrible orange stains on my white ankle socks and satin slipperettes. Mummy, next door in the utility room responded to my muffled squeals. "You disgusting creatures, wait till I tell your Dad!" she yelled, chasing the boys out of the kitchen while I readjusted my clothing and recovered my composure. "You had better go and replace your soiled under-things." Advised Mummy , and as I wearily climbed the stairs to my room I could hear Martin's voice as he shouted from his bedroom to Daddy in the garden for all the neighbours to hear - "Dad! Graham is still wearing girls frilly knickers under his dress!" So more ammunition for the neighbours and another black mark from my father, having again directly disobeyed him over my choice of underwear! It was time for my plan to entrap my brothers to be implemented and for them to join my happy band of 'petticoateers' - like it or not!
I decided a bath followed by early tea and an early bedtime made sense after my sticky soaking from the boys, but when I trotted into my bedroom in my pink housecoat and pulled back the bed-cover to climb into bed, my piercing screams had Mummy and Daddy speeding to my aid to be greeted by the sight of a large green toad nestling in the middle of my pink satin and lace nightie. I threw myself into Mummy's arms crying - "Oh Mummy its horrible!" while Daddy's strident voice summoning the two boys had them scurrying upstairs where they were confronted by the evidence of wrongdoing. "Who is responsible for this?" demanded father pointing at the slimy brown monster.
My brothers' puzzled, but guilty expressions cut no ice with Dad although both denied all knowledge of the heartless joke, as I continued sobbing quietly in mother's arms and listened to Dad haranguing my brothers. "If you didn't do it - who did? - Unless you suggest that my pouffy son put it there - look at him - her- He tut-tutted as he recalled yesterdays incident in the kitchen, but Mummy, practical as ever - cut in "Well we wont get to the bottom of this now - one of you boys is lying , so meanwhile Martin, take that creature outside on Susan's nightie, and put her nightie in the dirty washing. Martin looked sheepish; "Can't I just pick the toad up Mum?" he enquired hopefully. "No Martin Dear, take it outside on the nightie. "But I'm not a sissy, I can take it outside on my hand". His pallour now matched his colour of the toad as his trembling fingers slid slowly and cautiously towards the offensive garment, but as he touched the delicate material he withdrew his hand as though stung, let out a sob and promptly fled out of the room.
Three pairs of eyes now focussed on George, fear having replaced the amused smirk on his face, no doubt in anticipation of Dad's next command. "Well George? you will have to do it instead". "But Dad, he snivelled loudly and scowled in my direction. "Why can't SHE do it - its her thing after all!" His pleadings fell on deaf ears. - "Dont argue with me son, just do as you are told." George took a step forward, stretched out his hand and took the toad firmly in his grasp. "No son, not like that!" insisted Mummy, - "You were happy enough to flip Susan's petticoats over her head earlier on, so get on with it!" Mike gulped at her insistence and quickly withdrew his hand as the toad croaked plaintively from its seductive perch. "Please George, for me? pleaded Mother. "Its only a girls nightdress - it wont bite!" But a terror stricken George rushed from my bedroom, his face streaming tears. "Well I'll be blowed?" said Dad as he picked up the green toad and walked towards the door. "A right couple of ninnies!" - "Ahem! what about the nightie then Dad?" He gave mother a reproachful look as he backed awkwardly out of the room, the toad still resting in his hand.
"You men are all cowards!" she chided as he fled - "Aren't they Darling?" joyfully hugging me as I picked up my soiled nightie from the bed. "Its the men who are the sissies, not us girls? - Right Dearest?" - "Right mummy!" I replied at our shared joke. At the same time I gave myself a mental pat on the back at the way in which my plan for retribution was working out - The green toad I kept hidden under a flowerpot in the garden had come in useful after all, and I still had six weeks to 'stir the pot' again so that all three of us would end up going back to Maidment school next term - and hopefully I could meet up again with the beautiful Flora through the unfortunate Ronald!
5. A Gang Show to Remember!
The rest of the following week I stayed close to Mummy's apron-strings and gave the boys a wide berth. Eventually she raised the matter of my friends and fellow gang members and suggested that I should at least 'test the water' and find out whether I would be accepted back into the gang as a girl. "I don't approve of all your friends, Susan, but Barry, the boy who wears the baseball cap seems to be very nice, and is always polite to me and might be understanding; after all- they can't all be bad!"
I ruminated on her suggestion- 'after all' - 'thinking about it' - there are already girls in my gang who I might be able to relate to, - and I should be able to tighten the noose round my unsuspecting brothers - with a little bit of help from, although probably the loss of my friends - but in any case, that may be no bad thing! - and there was always the two Rhodes 'girls' who might welcome my company and be glad to join the 'Petticoateers'?
My plan was not without his risks however, and I would have to grasp the nettle and venture out, so I began to accompany mummy on her daily stroll exercising Charlie, our labrador. It was only a day or two before we were challenged as we left the house by a nosy neighbour who gave my stylish summer frock the once over.
"Hello Mrs Brown, who is this pretty girl then?" - "Ah, Mrs. Parker let me introduce Susan my niece. I gave half a smile as I nodded a response to an arch-enemy, and a short, fat one at that!. "Hmm! she doesn't have much to say for herself, does she? - for a girl that is! - and by the way, where's that eldest boy of yours - we havent seen much of him of late - not since his timely caution from the police!" "Umm - you mean Graham? He is staying with my niece's family - a sort of sexchange as you might say" I didn't appreciate Mummy's pun, and Mrs. Parker appeared to miss the joke, but as we turned to walk away she sniffed - " Goodbye 'Susan' - or whatever your name is ", and she stood watching and smirking until we were out of sight round a bend in the road. "I think she knows my secret Mummy?"
The reply was what I had expected, - "Yes I'm afraid I think she does, Susan - Thanks to your brothers being too loooose with their tongues!" Strangely enough I was relieved - Mrs. Parker probably deserved, and obviously derived some satisfaction from my sissified appearance, as recompense for an occasion some months previously when in broad daylight my gang and I sprayed her washing with spray paint while she was out on a shopping trip. After all, twittering tongues would soon tire of me as their main course on the menu, when the revelations over our padre and his 'daughters' became generally known.
The following morning there was a ring at the door which Mummy answered, and soon appeared back on the patio where we were having breakfast with the two boys."Susan! three of your friends are outside asking for you." With this news my brothers almost choked on their cereals and grinned at each other anticipating my imminent downfall from grace in front of my friends. Mummy looked non-plussed so asked me - " What shall I tell them Susan?"
I thought for a moment -"Tell them I am away until tomorrow and you will get me to leave a note in my 'dead letter box' when I return." My 'dead letter box' was a hole in the trunk of an old tree in the front garden which we used to pass messages, and although I had received a number of 'mailings' from the girls - obviously I hadn't used it myself since returning for the holidays. I left a message for my friends and two days later informed Mummy and the boys that I had arranged for my gang to come round at 10 o'clock the following morning.
Mummy decided to help me prepare for my 'baptism of fire' advising me to go for a sweet, demure, but older look. "Forget your petticoats, frills and flounces girl.- These are 'real' girls you are trying to impress". So I was soon sporting a pale pink see-through 'A line' muslin dress, extremely full skirts with spagetti straps decorated with delicate lace, the plunging neckline supported by a tiny padded training bra to emphasise my bust, while on my feet were white ankle socks and brown sandals. "Did you hear any noises downstairs during the night dear?"
Mummy's enquiry was greeted with a negative response as she put a blue alice-band over my head to keep my ringlets under control and gave me my first ever paint job. Soon I was ready for the off. "Wow!" was the boys response when I appeared at just before 9.30 in the conservatory. "You really look great, Susan". Enthused Martin as I sat down to breakfast, but Dad just snorted - "Your so-called 'friends' will make mincemeat of you dressed like that !" "Go upstairs and change into something 'decent', son - you look like a tart!" "Do you think I dress like a tart, David?" - Mummy responded angrily- "Some of those are my clothes and makeup she's wearing, so best hold your mouth!"
After her outburst Mummy patted my hand reassuringly. "You look wonderful Darling - take no notice of him, he is just jealous!" Father stormed into the hall just as there came a loud knocking and ringing at the front door and from the clamour when the door was opened, it was obvious my gang had arrived early.
"But Mummy " I wailed, "I told them in my note to call at ten and its only nine-thirty!" "Maybe someone altered your note?" was Mother's comment as she stared accusingly at my brothers - a picture of innocence - the two of them! Moments later we heard the front door slam shut and our irate father re-appeared and thrust a half opened package onto the conservatory table as he handed Mummy a note addressed to my gang which she began to read out loud. "This package contains an article of clothing which Graham wears under his outer clothes - so ring at the bell to find out what else he is wearing!"
The material peeping from the confines of the package was the pink satin and lace of my freshly laundered panties! Sniggers from the boys halted abruptly as Dad went ballistic rounding on the boys while I howled miserably in Mothers arms. "You two! - upstairs to your room! - I will deal with you later!"
As the two sullen, dejected boys departed, I was quizzed by my parents as to what I wanted to do next, given my gang were now parked in expectant anticipation on our front doorstep!
Since I was the one who slipped silently into the front garden and deliberately planted the incriminating package in the hole in the tree, I was quite prepared to accept the consequences, - so there was no escape for me now! I stood up from the table, blew my nose with a hanky, and asked "How do I look?"
Even Dad was sympathetic "You make a beautiful daughter dear." "Thank you Daddy" I responded As I stood on tip toe to kiss him on the cheek before facing my 'moment of truth'. Diplomatic as ever, Mummy suggested I wait in the conservatory, while she showed my friends into the games room for some soft drinks, then I could make my entrance a low key affair. And so the die was cast!
When the time came Mummy accompanied me to the door of the games room and watched and waited as I made my dramatic entrance, but contrary to my parents wishes, I breezed into the noisy atmosphere jauntily swinging my panties to and fro and as the din subsided to a smoky silence I saucily held them in front of me by the tips of my fingers and laughingly remarked - "I am feeling quite chilly 'down there', so who was the treasure who returned my panties?"
My young friends were transfixed by my throwaway remark as I trotted across the room and perched on the corner of Daddy's billiards table, my pale pink frock contrasting vividly with the green baize, while seven pairs of incredulous eyes stared fixedly at my midrift and then my pink panties as I folded them and laid them neatly alongside me on the table before they studied the rest of my stunning appearance in more detail, as calmly I launched into my spiel.
"I'm sorry I didn't arrange a gang meeting directly I returned from boarding school, but as you can see, I had some compulsory alterations made while I was away, and I was forced to undertake to return home dressed like this and to continue to do so for the rest of the school holiday - so I have been hiding away from you until now." I tantalisingly lifted the hem of my dress in my fingers allowing my gang the briefest flash of white petticoat lace as I placed my other arm seductively on my hip.
"And though I am still the same underneath I have become so used to being Susan I suggest you let her start again where Graham left off and that she should still remain the gang leader." But Marion strode over to where I was perched, and looked down at me with utter contempt in her eyes, her thumbs hooked in her leather belt as she stood, legs placed firmly astride, feeling perfectly at ease in her denim jeans, while I was the one trapped in skirts, my knees and ankles clamped firmly together in my protective shell, as she spat at me - "You bloody pervert, what are you dressed like a fairy for?"
I gave her a fey look, and in a seductive voice replied: "Would you like to make something of it then!" Her eyes gleamed greedily as she barked - "Yes pansy-boy, this is no longer your gang - its mine - and you're fired!" In an instant my hand flashed out and she stepped back trembling with rage fingering the wheal on her face as she ran out of the room closely followed by Ian, her boy-friend, as a raucous cheer went up from the remaining five in the room. So far so good, I thought, I'm still top-dog. But my audience began to ply me with questions, and I spent the next ten minutes explaining away my current sorry state, while two of the remaining boys eyed me up and down with suspicion, and distaste.
It was easy to explain away my 'petticoat regime' at school since all the boys were treated the same. Barry, who's nickname was 'Baseball' because he always had a cap on his head had asked "But Graham, surely now you are back home there is no compunction to continue acting and dressing like a girl?" Mild mannered Barry had a good point as he continued - "Who is to know you disobeyed school instructions, surely your Mum and Dad wont mind you wearing trousers again, unless of course you enjoy dressing up as a girl?"
I shuffled uncomfortably from toe to toe, twiddling awkwardly with the lacy embroidery covering my budding breasts. "Umm, well I made a promise at school and promises must be kept". My tame answer received its just reward as Tony piped up "What crap! You DO like wearing sissy dresses, and THATS the reason you are still wearing em, - Marion is right, come on gang lets go, lets leave this sissy boy to play with his dollies!"
As the truth struck home, Tony now headed through the door, followed by three of the others, leaving just dull old Barry to keep me company. "Thank goodness thats all over!" I sighed resignedly, "Come on Barry, lets go upstairs and I will show you my new bedroom and the rest of my girlie clothes, - you can even stay and play with my dolls if you like, - and perhaps we can go and do some skipping on the patio?" Barry's eyes lit up instantly "Can we really, Susan? - I would love to stay and play with you!"
Even my sad attempt at a joke had misfired - or had it? Perhaps Barry would prove to be a willing convert to the cause! My day had proved to more successful than I had ever imagined, and as I suspected, David was very keen to help form the nucleus of a girls' sorority, possibly another 'petticoateer' a task for which he was ideally suited, especially in view of what he told me next. He explained that he was the youngest sibling in a family of five daughters, and with an age gap of several years between David and the youngest sister, he had been cosseted and molly-coddled from a baby.
He was always treated very much as 'one of the girls'. But his sisters were now all married, or had left home, leaving him with his disabled, widowed father for company, who didn't approve of his dressing-up games. So although he had a generous supply of girls' clothing to play with, opportunities to dress were few and far between, so the offer of a 'safe house' where he could store, wear, and even share his girly gear would be a godsend for both of us, and I would ask my parents for their approval! I also told him my plans to entrap my obnoxious brothers and he promptly offered his enthusiastic support, and in my estimation as a result 'deadly dull' David 'went into orbit'.
6. Barry Helps Blot the Boys Copybook!
After David left to prepare his father's lunch, Dad freed my brothers from their imposed exile in their room. It was obvious they had established who was responsible for the mystery note and package in the front garden from the frosty reception they gave me in the kitchen. They cheered up no end when Mummy told them that my gang had disowned me, therefore in their eyes my plan having apparently misfired.
The boys then asked Dad if, after lunch, he would drop them down at the shopping mall on his way to his snooker hall. Permission was granted provided they would stay out of trouble. After the boys left the house, and despite my mild protest, Mummy decided to help me change into a pink party dress, generously supported by white frilly petticoats, together with all the trimmings little girls just love to wear, including a white frilly pinafore to protect my sissy dress, and thus dressed I even ventured into the garden as Mother and I hung out my washing on the rotary clothes-line before receiving lessons in ironing some of my 'smalls' while she used the opportunity to have a serious talk with me.
"Daddy and I feel that now you have cleared the air with your so-called friends, it is time for you to stop hiding behind my skirts." -"You need to venture out alone for a change; and not just to exercise the dog or trot off down with us to the church."- "After all you are just an attractive young girl to everyone you meet, even your brothers are beginning to think so, and treat you as such; I noticed Martin hold the car door open for you the other day and even young George calls you 'Sis' when you are out of earshot." - "And since Mrs. Nosy Parker and her ilk know who you are, and we all know what they say about 'sticks and stones'- its time you came out of that shell of yours!" - "Perhaps you could make a start by occasionally answering the front door to callers. Since David and the boys have gone out for the afternoon, this is a good opportunity to start."
I agreed to go along with her suggestion since I wanted to tell her all about Barry, and she listened quietly to what I had to say and how I hoped she would agree to Barry being allowed to keep some of his things in my room for safe keeping. "What sort of 'things' do you mean? Are they toys, souvenirs or what?" "No Mummy, - I mean clothes, like mine." Mummy looked surprised. "You mean then, that this boy Barry likes dressing up as a girl?"
I then explained the problem he had with his disabled father who disapproved of his behaviour around the house, even though Barry was his unofficial carer. "Well young lady, since all your friends have deserted you, perhaps you need someone of your age to bond with." she looked at me sharply "That is, as long as there is no 'hanky-panky' if you get my meaning!"
Having assured her that such an idea was repugnant to me, I asked her how we could explain such an arrangement to 'the men' in the family. "You had best leave that to me! - I will find a way - now lets have some tea." The piercing ring at the bell came as quite a shock "Go and see who that is at the door Susan!" challenged Mummy, looking me straight in the eyes."Go on then girl, do as you are told!"
I hesitated for a moment as the bell rang again and trotted slowly down the hall towards the front door since the uniform outlined through the glazing of the door was unmistakable and I swallowed hard as my dainty hand pulled the heavy door open. "Is Mrs. Brown at home Miss?" I stared up into the policeman's face as he gave me a friendly look of approval, but I still went weak at the knees, my throat dry and my heart racing like a Ferrari! But then I realized that he was escorting my two sullen-faced brothers! "Who is it at the door darling" I looked round to see Mother peering through the kitchen door." "You had better come to the door Mummy!" I shakily replied.
I couldn't believe my luck as that night as I snuggled up happily in bed in my nightie knowing that thanks to their shoplifting spree it was on the cards the boys' fate was sealed in less than a three weeks time. Marion, Ian and the rest of the gang had collared my brothers in the shopping mall and the two boys indicated their desire to join the gang in my place. The price would be twenty cigarettes each, conditional upon the boys 'nicking' them from a shop and unfortunately for them they were the ones 'nicked'.
They had been returned home after a police caution, and badly shaken by the experience, retreated once again to the safety of their room. However, my hopes were shattered when my parents went to bed as I heard them continuing the row that had simmered earlier in the evening. Dad was adamant the boys wouldn't go to Maidment and for his pains I heard him storm off downstairs to sleep on the sofa in the lounge.
The following Saturday morning I wore my anglaise lace cotton top with short puffy sleeves, a shiny black flared skirt, matching elbow-length gloves, and all the seductive trimmings underneath, so having played in the garden for awhile, I volunteered to vacuum clean the house while Mummy was shopping in town. The cleaner was in the cupboard under the stairs, so I asked Daddy, who was sitting in the conservatory in his new grey suit reading his paper to get it for me. "Can't you get it yourself Susan?" - "But Daddy, its full of spiders webs and creepy crawlies and I don't want to get my dress dirty."
He gave me a disapproving stare, grumpily followed me into the hall and after scrabbling around, emerged with the cleaner from the cupboard and took it into the lounge, "Please Daddy would you plug it in for me?" - "Would you like me to wipe your bottom for you?" - "But Daddy, I'm scared of electricity - Please?" - "What! A son of mine scared of spiders webs, insects and electricity as well!" - "But Pops, you forget - I'm your daughter now!"
With a snort he bent over and turned the vacuum cleaner on, at which point the machine emitted a cloud of choking white dust, which in seconds had engulfed the whole room! Daddy and I were coughing and wheezing and hardly able to see, but it was still a big surprise to me when he played the hero as he swept me off my feet, cradled me in his arms and staggered over to the patio door to stumble out into the fresh air.
Our abrupt appearance in the garden, - looking like a pair of 'ghouls' and pursued by clouds of choking white dust, startled the two boys, who were playing in the tree-house, and they promptly burst into uncontrollable laughter at our sorry state as Daddy gently lowered me to the ground and gallantly tried to brush the flour from off my dress. Inside the house there was a loud bang as the cleaner motor shorted out - allowing the clouds of dust to gradually settle. Dads temper didn't settle so easily, as he realised we were covered in a dusting of flour, his powdery footprints showing up his headlong flight from the lounge and across the patio.
Meanwhile the boys had scrambled down from their hidey-hole, and with the tears running down their cheeks came over for a closer look. Bad move! - Dad went ballistic and a good hiding for the two of them was on the cards. "Who did it then?"- he bellowed- "Own up right now!" It was obvious to me that the boys didn't know what the devil he was talking about. "But we haven't done anything wrong Dad!" Hardly what he wanted to hear. Fortunately Mummy had arrived home with the shopping, and to everyone's relief set about salvaging the situation. It took most of the weekend and the following week to sort the mess out, with insurance assessors, commercial cleaners, electricians and repair men involved. I was astounded by the damage my little prank had caused to curtains, carpets, clothes, furnishings, one fried vacuum cleaner and a ruined telephone, so I was glad I had thoroughly covered my tracks with Dad's connivance during the build-up to the main event.
For my little brothers there was no such escape, despite the pitiful pleas of ignorance and innocence in this case. They were grounded for a week and placed under Mummy's jurisdiction for further punishment. I was cock-a-hoop knowing what would happen next, and sure enough, on the Monday morning after Dad had taken my two snivelling brothers over to grandmothers before he went to work, Mother was on our brand-new phone to the school secretary enrolling two new pupils for an intensive sublimation and re-assignment course, a regime I knew only too well!
7. Barry Bares All!
Now would appear to be a good time to remind Mummy about her promise to help out my friend Barry. She thought for a moment and said "Okay dear, we will give it a whirl - ask your friend to come round this afternoon and make sure he brings his wardrobe."But what about Daddy?" - "Oh, don't worry about him, - after last Saturday he doesn't mind how many 'girls' we have in the house - as long as they behave as such." Her reply reminded me of Geraldine and Paula Rhodes, and I determined to give them a call sometime. But meantime I rang Barry and told him the good news, - and the sad tale of the weekend events, and thanked him for the mooting the idea in the first place - removing the dust bag and filter and filling the vacuum cleaner and hose with flour.
Even he was surprised at how successful it had been. 'But no, he wouldn't be able to come until the morning - the social worker was coming round later today to help his fathers live-in lodger/home help to move in'. With this vital piece of information I was able to persuade Mummy to allow Barry to stay with us for a few days while the new lodger sorted himself out and give the boy a clean break from his father's constant presence.
So early the following morning Mummy ran me round in her car to help him with his gear. He was already packed, although Mummy was surprised when we trundled out with two large trunks, and three suitcases full of clothes. "My sisters and I never threw anything away!" Was Barry's wry comment at the look on mother's face as the full impact of her promise sank in.
"I must remember to buy some more air freshener" she murmured as we drove off. With the boys at grandmas for a couple of days my parents were taking the opportunity to redecorate and refurbish the other two bedrooms while they were away, do some shopping for the boys, and enable Mummy and I to store Barry's extensive wardrobe in their old bedroom.
Most of the morning was spent unpacking and admiring the vast array of quality girls and ladies fashions which Barry had 'acquired' whether legitimately or not, while the condition of the garments themselves, some of which were quite old, was immaculate, they were individually wrapped in perfumed tissue or polythene. He then explained his mother had been a wardrobe mistress at one of the London theatres when she was younger, and had taught her skills to his sisters who had also schooled Barry as to how to wash, starch, iron and sew delicate materials, so any concern in mother's mind over smells soon evaporated.
After a light lunch we turned our attention to Barry's makeover, and while he took a bath Mummy and I laid out the selection of clothing he had picked out to wear in his new role during his stay. He appeared in the bedroom door draped in a large, yellow bath towel, his hair concealed beneath a 'turban' also fashioned from a bath towel, with his feet shod in a pair of flowered slip-ons as he unconsciously adopted a pose that would make a budding starlet jealous.
"Come in my dear, we don't stand on ceremony here." Barry almost seemed to be unaware of our presence in the room as he glided across the thick pile carpet and gracefully lowered himself onto the dressing table stool, crossing his shapely legs at the ankles as he did so and then expertly unwinding the towel from round his head to allow his wavy, auburn hair to cascade over his shoulders as he tilted his head to one side and admired his beautiful reflection in the dressing table mirror. Now I realised why I had never seen him without a baseball cap on that head of his!
"Would you like us to help you dress, dear? - or shall we leave the room?" Mummy tried to regain the initiative. "Yes - I would like that very much." His dreamy voice was intimidating, and as he rose to his feet the bath towel slowly slipped through his fingers to the floor. For a moment, Mummy stared in stunned silence!
We were now looking at the body of a young pubescent girl! Round his midrift, Barry was wearing one of those lacy thongs, and that was all! Mummy gasped. "Umm., what has happened to your penis my dear?" The tiny triangle of lace was completely smooth at the front without even a hint of a bulge as it disappeared into the shadows between his thighs.
He smiled wistfully as he glanced down at the empty space between his legs. "Unfortunately it is still there, Mrs. Brown - it is what is called 'tucking' - It gives me a lovely shape down there doesn't it?" I didn't wish to disillusion Mummy, but I was safely 'pocketed' 'down there' as well, a skill learnt at school.
But what caught our eye next, before he sheepishly concealed them with his arms and hands, were the distinctive mounds beginning to appear on his chest. "My youngest sister gets me patches which I change twice a week."
He fondled them tenderly with his hands - they are feeling quite sensitive and growing quite nicely don't you think?" Mummy coughed awkwardly - "Yes young lady they are very nice. - Shall we get you dressed now Barry?" Mummy's Freudian slip didn't go un-noticed. "My name is Sarah Jane - Please call me that from now on, and yes - you may help me dress!"
It was the turn of Sarah's assertive voice to catch us off guard. SHE was in control now - not mild mannered Barry! Half an hour later, Mummy and us two girls were taking afternoon tea in the conservatory. Barry, or Sarah as he preferred to be addressed, was now wearing a colourful short-sleeved T- shirt and grey denim jeans, her hair tied back in a ponytail with just a smidgen of makeup, but thanks to a training bra - a more than adequate bust-line for a girl of our age.
She had persuaded me to change, but I didn't have the bottle to abandon my skirts for trousers, so I was sporting a two-piece blue gingham suit with a bolero top worn over a white lace blouse, a straight miniskirt, and pink painted toe-nails clearly visible in my blue peep-toe sandals, while a pink scarf was tied in a big bow round my hair.
We heard the Dad's car on the gravel and moments later he appeared through the lounge door. "Hello girls! " was his cheery greeting, "and who is this young lady then?" She stood up from her seat and shook him gently by the hand. - "Hello Mr. Brown, I am Sarah, Susan's new friend - I have heard so much about you!" -"But I thought Barry was staying--? " His sentence remained unfinished as Mother placed her index finger across his mouth.
"Come on Father, sit down, and Susan will pour you a cup of tea before you go and put you overalls on". The poor man looked bewildered, a pained expression on his face as he tried to figure out why everybody else was going mad! "You will have to get used to having a lot of 'girls' around you in future Dad."
The next two days were hectic, with us girls shopping with Mother for soft furnishings, table lamps, dollies and cuddly toys suitable for girls of my brothers' age. We also purchased a basic wardrobe for the two of them so that we could take the rest of their clothes to Grandmothers before they returned home to begin their new lives.
Meanwhile, Sarah settled so comfortably into the family that father's initial hostility was overcome as she helped him with the painting and paperhanging, and proved what a fine seamstress she was by making the net drapes for the two new four-poster beds in the 'girls' new rooms.
8. The Boys put up a Fight.
So the fateful day arrived and Mummy took us two 'girls' with her to Grandmas. She was waiting on the doorstep as the car drew up and after a heartfelt greeting we trooped indoors for coffee, but there was no sign of the boys.
"They havent eaten since yesterday morning and were threatening to run away, so I took away their boys clothes away and locked the little 'Darlings' in their room just in their dresses. They must be quite hungry by now, so Sarah, you can take your little friend and find them. We raced upstairs and into the guestroom where the two boys were lounging on their beds waiting to be let out, but when they caught sight of 'Sarah Jane' they dived back into the bathroom.
"Come on you two, come down stairs for breakfast!" "Not in front of HER we wont!" was the grumbled reply. "Oh, that's not a girl, that's Barry!" Sarah Jane gave me a look that would kill. When the two sheepish lads re-entered the room they made an immediate dash for the kitchen door, and by the time we joined them they were already wolfing down their cooked breakfast.
Later, in granny's lounge, while Sarah and I listened in, Mummy and Granny quietly discussed the boys' makeover. "We may as well complete their transition here - on neutral ground, I have their cases in the back of the car and with you and the girls helping out, plus a little bribery, they are hardly likely to resist for long especially if we keep them apart - divide and rule I say." - "Good idea darling," replied grandma, "Martin will be more difficult to handle because of his age, so perhaps the two girls and I can take Martin into my bedroom, while you can change George in the guest-room."
After breakfast while Martin was in the toilet, Mummy trotted in with the boys' cases. "Right George, upstairs with you NOW!" "But Mum, I want to go to the toilet!" he whined. "You can go upstairs in the cloakroom". She retorted, her tone spurring George into action and he scuttled upstairs escorted by Mummy. When Martin re-appeared he enquired after his brother; "Mother has taken him upstairs to my room for a bath, so lets go on up shall we?" With Granny and I following close behind, we went into the guest room to find George's case parked in the middle of the floor, and we could hear the bath being run in the adjoining en-suite.
"Sounds as though Georgy- boy has a head start on you young man - we had better trot along to my room and get started!" Martin gasped - "But Granny, George and I agreed not to go along with Mummy's idiotic plan!" "Obviously he hasn't told you about the race! - Oh - I see, he has already has a head start since he wants to make sure he wins". Martin was all ears as she explained to him that which ever of the boys in the family was first to complete their transformation to Mummy's satisfaction, would be first to be given a playstation as a prize. Martins eyes opened greedily as the message sunk in; " Martin soon lead the way as he rushed back along the hall to Grandma's room hurriedly ripping off his dress. "But I have already been given a playstation!" I whispered to Gran" "Yes dear" - she chuckled wickedly, "The prize has already been won!" While Grandma took Martin into Granny's bathroom, Sarah and I had begun to unpack and lay out Martin's new clothes, when Mummy popped her head round the door. "Did he buy it?" She smiled broadly at our reply. "George is still in the cloakroom - One down, one to go!"
Fifteen minutes later, a pristine, rosy-cheeked, curly-headed child, with a determined grimace on its face pattered out of the bathroom wrapped up in a large bath-towel, to be followed by an attentive granny, looking equally determined as she trotted over to her dressing table, and opening a drawer pulled out a small, gift-wrapped, packet and handed to her charge "Here you are dearest, a special present for you by way of a thank you from Granny. The child grabbed the soft package impatiently and began to rip the trimmings asunder.
"No dear!" not like that, open it properly, open it with loving care and dignity" Martin shrugged his shoulders and with considerable self control, attempted to comply with granny's wishes. Eventually the outer packing was removed, as inquisitive fingers tore away the tissue paper to reveal a pair of little girls pink satin rhumba panties, generously decorated with pink lace.
Martin's jaw hit the ground with a thump! "Yes dear, they are the same as the white pair Susan was wearing the other day, when you doused her frilly bottom with orange juice, but these are pink, so please take care of them wont you?" Granny's question remained unanswered as the boy stared in desperation at the most intimate piece of feminine finery he had ever seen, let alone handled, or been gifted!
"But granny, you don't expect me to wear these?" He wailed, prodding the frilly garment with the end of his finger. "But of course I do, darling, they wont bite you - and your sister wears them as you well know - and after all, George has a pair he must wear too!"
This last snippet of information, and the muffled shouts and squeals from along the hall, soon put a smile back on his face as he probably thought of the tricks he could play on his brother, since George was only eight, two years the younger. "Hurry up dear!" barked Granny "If you want to win the prize." Martin only hesitated for a second as he stepped into his brand new knickers as Granny held them open for him and pulled them up round his waist before relieving him of the towel.
"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" She remarked sweetly as Sarah and I looked on and Martin grimaced unhappily at the hole he was being remorselessly dragged into, as this wispy garment, alien to his nature, clung to his body like a leech, tantalizing his senses with a peculiar feeling of well-being.
"The frills round your bot look very pretty on you Martine." Martin looked hard at Sarah as she uttered his pseudonym. "I wish I had a pair of panties like that!" "Now young lady, don't embarass the poor dear, now Martine hold your arms up while I slip this net petticoat over your head."
Martin shrunk away from Gran, but she uttered the magic word, 'play-station' and his arms were over his head in a flash as the princess style lace and net petticoat was carefully lowered over his arms, the ribbon straps of the satin top arranged on his slender shoulders, while the frothy material of the skirts was allowed to float down to fit neatly over his waist and brushed down to hang in a froth of lace round his thighs.
"Swing it to and fro, dear" and as Martin held hands and arms akimbo and swung his hips, the petticoats made a pleasant 'swishing' sound, which Martin found fascinating to listen to, to feel, and to watch, since he didn't want to stop. "All young girls of your age love to make their pettis sing, but no need to do it any more, dear" Remarked Granny, and Martin certainly seemed hooked by the experience, but he reddened and shrank back into his shell when he recognised the look of triumph in my face.
"Stop him looking at me Nanna" and Martin hung his head in shame. "But all girls like to look at other girls, either to admire, or be jealous of each other darling -it's a natural feminine trait- so don't be silly!"
"But I'm not a girl." Martin repeated over and over, and snivelled quietly to himself, while falling teardrops began to discolour the white lace of his petticoat, his feeble protest having been ignored. "Sounds as though your Mother has her work cut out", Remarked Gran at the continuing disturbance from down the hall.
"Now dearest, jump up on my bed, and to save my poor old legs, perhaps Susan and Sarah will kindly put your new socks and shoes on for you." We didn't need further prompting as taking one apiece we knelt down and spreading our dresses, tried to fit Martin's frilly white ankle socks, decorated with pink satin ribbon, onto his feet.
"Oh no, not those!" - "not those sissy things!" And as he sobbed out loud he swung his legs so violently back and forth, it was impossible for us to attempt the task. "Stop that right now Martine! - you are supposed to be ten, not two, so act your age, not your shoe size" Granny leaned over, flipped up his petticoats onto his lap and delivered a sharp slap on the front of both his bare legs. He yelped, but it certainly did the trick as he calmed down and we were able to slip the sissy socks over his feet and turn the pink frilled hems down over his ankles.
Fitting his shiny black patent Mary janes decorated with tiny black bows on the instep strap was a dawdle, as they slipped easily over his sissy socks, and Sarah and I stood up, brushing our dresses down as we did so, to step back and admire our handiwork as Martin squirmed uncomfortably on the bed. "Don't do that Martine you will screw up all your petticoats,"
My caution didn't seem to have any effect "But Susan, all these net petticoat things are scratching my arse" he pleaded. So I relented and stepped forward to lift him down from the bed, and he stood awkwardly, unused as he was to standing in mary janes with their one inch heels and continued to scratch his nether regions beneath his petticoats with his hands. "Little girls don't say 'arse' I reminded him gently, but Martin was now staring in horror at the pink and white confection Grandma had retrieved from its hidey-hole in her wardrobe and now held aloft for our approbation.
Now children - for the piece de resistance!", - "Its beautiful, - Mrs. Brown." Sarah giggled excitedly "You are a lucky girl Martine!" Martin was definitely not impressed! "No! No! Not that!" He cried, as Granny removed the flimsy dress from its polythene bag, undid the fastenings, and despite his protest, briskly placed the garment over Martin's head, before turning him round and securing all the buttons down the back, and tying a wide pink ribbon with a generous bow round his nipped in waist.
"Hmm! - He does look rather ridiculous with that hair." Remarked Gran, stepping back. "Please let me fix his hair? - I was always helping my sisters with theirs". "Good idea, Sarah Jane, see what you can do!" Martin's hair was an untidy mess despite the bath. Granny and I sat on the bed to watch, while Sarah opened her clutch bag and producing a hair brush, scissors and tail comb, and soon had Martin's dress protected by a large pinafore as he perched on the stool in front of the dressing table mirror, while she set about sorting out the boy's unruly mop.
"Keep your head still dear and stop waving your arms about like that! -The sooner we pretty up your hair and turn you into a little girl the sooner you win the prize." Granny rebuked her grandson, and he ceased his feeble protests and sat quietly, his eyes tightly shut waiting for the inevitable, despite the continuing racket from little George down the hall competing with the 'snip, snip' of Sarah's scissors! "There young lady, its all over now!" Announced Sarah proudly, as Martin slowly opened his tearstained eyes, and gaped in the mirror at the transformation she had performed.
"Who's a pretty girl then?" I quipped, as Martine stood up from the stool, not taking her eyes off her reflection for a second, as Granny removed the pinny with a flourish. "She doesn't need any blusher - her cheeks are red enough" commented Granny - "Now lets go and find your new sister shall we Princess ?" And as I held open the door, Martin - or rather Martine, still unsteady in her 'mary jane' heels, trotted off down the hall hand-in-hand with her Granny, anxious to confirm that the prize was hers, while Sarah and I followed on behind.
"Sounds as if someone is being murdered in there" Granny remarked drily as she knocked and opened the guest-room door. "Please Granny, don't let her do this to me!" A tragic figure had rushed over to Granny and sobbing piteously had buried its head in her skirts. "There there dear - please don't cry - its all for your own good!" But Granny's re-assurances cut no ice with the flailing demon as he wept bitterly at his plight. "I cant do a thing with him mother, he's already torn one of his petticoats and just wont do as he is told!"
I was shocked at Mummy's dishevelled appearance, miserably ringing her hands in desperation at George's intransigence with the promise of a so-called 'prize' of little consequence. The guest room looked completely wrecked with table lamps overturned, screwed up clothes all over the bed and floor, along with assorted debris swept off the dressing table in the ensuing struggles.
We noticed that George's sobs were beginning to subside, and eventually, when he came up for air from within the folds of Gran's skirts, he caught sight of his curly-headed brother and a half smile appeared on his face. Sarah then made a suggestion - "I think I may be able to get Georgy to do as you want", and taking Mummy on one side, related her own experience - "When my sisters used to fuss me when I was about six years old, I couldn't bare one sister, who was very fond of me, either dressing me, or watching me dress up as a girl. - "She always gave me lots of cuddles once I was dressed, but I just froze for no reason if she ever offered to help me dress."
Sarah looked awkward as she continued- "I think his feelings towards you, Mrs. Brown, are the same as between me and my sister, he is too close to you for him to feel comfortable being dressed in your presence." After talking it over, the two ladies decided to take up Sweet Sarah's offer, and with Granny's permission, took George and all his clothes into her bedroom, while the rest of us tidied up the guest-room as best we could and then retreated downstairs for morning coffee, accompanied by a highly pensive Martine, who, having demanded when he could expect to receive his play-station, was informed that "Prizes were not to be automatically won - but had to be earned, and she hadn't earn't hers yet!" So Martine sat herself in the lounge, - thinking.
It wasn't very long before Mother broke the silence; "Its very quiet upstairs dear, should I go and see if they are all right?" Granny gave Mummy an emphatic 'No!' and told her to sit, relax, and enjoy her coffee. Twenty minutes later, Sarah came trotting into the lounge smiling happily.
"Georgina is ready to make her 'grand entrance' down the stairs, but she wants her new sister to be with her too!" With that, Martine skipped out through the door and ran off upstairs in a flurry of petticoats while the rest of us went into the hall and waited at the foot of the stairs for the two young girls to appear.
We heard giggling and scampering on the top landing, then a door slam but no sign of our quarry. "They have probably gone to the toilet" Mummy remarked. but five minutes later there was still no sign of them. "Give them another couple of minutes", said Gran. After giving them the benefit of the doubt, and allowing them a few minutes more, we all trooped upstairs to find all their lovely clothes strewn on the landing and in the guests bedroom.
The two lads had barricaded themselves in Grandmother's bathroom and despite our demands, refused to come out. We patiently collected up their new belongings, now somewhat the worse for wear, and Sarah and I went off to give them an iron over, but we couldn't find their knickers anywhere.
"Where are your panties, boys?" Shouted Mother through the bathroom door. "We flushed them down the toilet, Mum!" came their shock reply as they chuckled aloud at the way they had made fools of us all! "If Grandma's drains are blocked they'll be hell to pay" remarked Mother - "and in any case you wont eat until you agree to be dressed up properly this time!"
9. A Revealing Trip to the Shopping Mall
It was well after lunch before the two naked boys ventured out of their bolt-hole pleading their tummies were rumbling, but they were promised a meal only after they were dressed up again, to Mummy's complete satisfaction.
Eventually they conceded defeat, and two hours later,Sarah, mummy and I were sitting in the car as we watched two sad little girls, dressed in gorgeous matching dresses, one in blue and one in pink lace, decorated with lovely embroidery around the hems emerge from their Grannies' house self-consciously gripping each other's dainty hand and holding a quaint Edwardian dolly in the other.
Their humiliation was complete when the pair stretched up for a fond farewell kiss on their tear-stained cheeks from their granny as their pretty dresses rode up to expose layer upon layer of frilly, fluffy net petticoats, while from our vantage point we could see they were also exposing much more, or perhaps I should say much less! But suddenly realising how visible the two had become, George and Martin dived into the back seat of the car, before being driven off to the local shopping mall to buy them some new panties.
Their requests to be driven straight home were ignored despite tearful pleadings and promising to be 'good girls' from now on, and on our arrival, despite trying to merge with the rest of us, the reception at their novel appearance in the shopping mall was something else. Onlookers were treated to the sight of two dainty lacy dresses, scuttling along in black mary janes and frilly white socks, each dress topped with a shock of short untidy hair, below which lurked the unmistakable features of two young boys. Their stunning appearance was soon the subject of raucous comment from some of the young scallywags hanging around the mall. One suggestion was most apt. "Flash us your frilly knickers!" shouted one ruffian. "Hardly likely", murmured Mummy quietly with relish - "They aren't wearing any!"
For once they were even quite happy to find sanctuary in 'Victoria's Secret', which sells ladies lingerie, but their feeling of security was dissipated as Mummy frog-marched them up to one of the salesladies; "I would like some rhumba panties for my two boys." The woman promptly escorted us over to a display rack, where Mummy made her selection and handed the boys a pair each.
Mummy felt an explanation was needed as she continued. "Unfortunately these two rascals flushed their other pairs down the toilet. - They need to use a cubicle, as they haven't any on at the moment and will need to wear them home." The saleslady didn't even turn a hair as my demoralized brothers shuffled off to a changing room, their brand spanking new knickers clutched tightly in their clenched hands.
While we were waiting for their return, Sarah and I wandered over to a selection of ladies nightdresses, several of which accidentally fell to the floor while Sarah was inspecting them more closely. Mummy settled the bill and expressed surprise at the shop staffs' reaction to her purchases. "We do get quite a few young - and not so young 'boys' through here, Madam - its not unusual - and we are used witnessing the petticoat punishment of tearful little darlings anyway! - and enjoy your purchases young ladies, you are very privileged children!"
The saleslady's parting shot was wasted on Martin and George who were only too pleased to quit the shop and scuttle off home with the catcalls of the young scruffs lounging around outside in the mall ringing in their ears, but not before they were frog marched into a children's boutique and subjected to acquiring further items of feminine finery to add to their wardrobes, an event rounded off by their first photo-shoot in their new play clothes as Martine and Georgina by way of a special treat from Granny!
"Well you two, let that be a lesson to you!" Mummy began on her overdue lecture in the car - "If you continue to behave the way you did today, then I will promise you more of the same!" "But Mum, we hate wearing these sissy clothes," cut in George from the back seat, "why cant we be dressed normally to go out?" "From now on young man, these are your clothes when we go out, the same as Susan there, she has had to get used to them and carries herself off very well, she wasn't jeered at was she? - and neither was Sarah." "But they look like girls, we don't" Martin joined the argument. "Yes, but so did you to begin with; You made two extremely pretty girls until you decided to spoil our day - so you only got what you deserved." - "I'm going to go and change into my boy clothes directly I get home!" Snivelled George." You are both welcome to do that"
The boys crestfallen faces were suddenly wreathed in smiles at Mummies reply.- "If you can find any boys clothes indoors, you are welcome to - but they are all round Granny's, same as Susan's here, so that should wipe your smiles away! Anyhow, here we are girls, home at last!" Mummy looked satisfied the effect this bombshell had on the boys as she observed them in the rear view mirror and drove into our drive with Mrs. Parker looking on!
As soon as the car stopped, the rear door flew open and the two boys dived out, and in a flurry of skirts, disappeared from sight down the side of the house for concealment from our eagle-eyed neighbour, while Sarah, Mummy and me made our way more sedately to the front door. "Right boys, upstairs with Sarah and me to change your dresses and fix your hair, while Susan can take the dog for a walk before Dad comes in!"
Mummy was in no mood for arguments as her petticoated boys fled up the stairs ahead of her to see their new bedrooms, but they both expressed disgust at having to occupy separate, newly decorated apartments in pastel shades, fitted out in a manner to gladden the heart of any pre-teen girl, and after a frantic search of their cupboards and drawers revealed only girls clothes, only the threat of instant death from mother deterred them from trashing the place.
10. Planning Georgina's Party
Fatty Parker was still hovering as I took Charlie for his walk, as she sidled up to me outside our drive. "I thought you were the only naughty boy in the family, but from what I have just seen, your younger brothers must be just as bad!" I smiled sweetly as I replied "For a start, Mrs. Parker, to my friends my name is Susan, but to you I am Miss Brown, if you please, while my new 'sisters' are Martine and Georgina!" She snorted and looked down her nose; "I thought all your so-called 'friends' deserted you after that performance in the garden the other morning young man - apart from your flea-bitten old dog that is?"
Now she had gone too far, insulting our dog! - so a swift parry was in order! She folded her arms, looking me up and down for possible faults, taking in the scrunchie in my shiny, curly hair, the 'tiniest' hint of makeup and whiff of perfume, nicely manicured nails, short-sleeve embroidered 'T-shirt' with a slight suggestion of cleavage, my mid-thigh blue and yellow mini-kilt, bright red T-bar mary janes and long white socks.
I presume her attempt had failed as she just sniffed - "It is a pity your Dad didn't insist on you wearing sissy shitty knickers 'under there', to match your other sissy clothes!" I gave the woman the benefit of my most sickly of smiles to go with my reply -"In spite of what Daddy may have told you - Mrs. Parker, actually, I AM wearing girls frilly knickers 'under there'! - as you so crudely put it!" And mine are clean and not covered in spray paint or anything else like yours are - as you can see!" I lifted the pleats at the back of my skirt as I pirouetted, wiggling my bottom, and walked away in a most unladylike way - proving her wrong on two counts. Touche'!
My reminder of the paint spraying incident in her garden did not go down too well neither. "Disgusting boy, so it was you!" was all she could shout out as Charlie and I trotted down the road to the park. By the time I returned home Mrs. Parker was nowhere to be seen and Mummy and Sarah had completed my brothers' makeovers, and they had been ordered downstairs into the conservatory where mother could keep an eye on them.
"Hi girls!" I announced cheerily as I skipped through the patio doors. "We are boys not girls!"
They were both sprawled sideways on in wicker chairs, each with one leg draped nonchalantly, but guiltily over the arm-rests, allowing their flared cotton sun-dresses to ride up their lily-white thighs and form into untidy creases round their waists, sullenly oblivious it would seem, to the prominent display of frilled underwear they were wearing.
It seemed pointless giving them another 'dressing down' after their trauma in the shopping mall. At least the repeat hair and facial makeovers Sarah had painstakingly completed were still intact, and meant they looked quite cute from the neck up, and they hadn't torn their clothes off, so in part the battle of wills was won.
Then as I sat down they both stood up, brushed their dresses down, and pattered over to where I was sitting, placed their heads in my lap and began to cry piteously at their plight. "There, there girls, its not as bad as all that," I responded kindly.
"But we HATE having to wear these girls things Susan, and we didn't do all those naughty things that Daddy claims," "I know you didn't, little ones, since I was the culprit, but you already know that!" "But please Susan, why don't you tell Dad the truth, since he wont believe us?"
They snivelled and snorted in anguish, and I tried to placate them as I cuddled them and brushed my fingers through their hair. "But you know I wont do that dears, I like you dressed as you are, in girls dresses like me, and I want you to come to my school, and as three sisters we will have such a lovely time. And at least you were dressed up by your loving, caring family, who have your best interests at heart." I then continued to lay it on with a trowel!
"Not like poor me, I was subjected to the same treatment in front of total strangers, stripped, jeered at and abused unmercifully, forced into tight fitting garments, but I didn't have a shoulder to cry on, and protest about my despised girls clothes, but which I have come to enjoy wearing in the end!" - "Now dry your eyes sweethearts, you do make very pretty little girls, and it needn't be forever!" My two sisters swallowed hard, gulped down their disappointment at my intransigence, and trotted off to try their luck with Mummy!
Later in the day it was 'bye bye' Sarah and 'hello' Barry, as he made his preparations to go back home to look after his father for a few days, as he reluctantly stripped off his favourite schoolgirl outfit, but before he left he whispered that Sarah had left me a gift under my pillow.
With my sissified brothers keeping a low profile watching television upstairs, Mummy and I were in the lounge as Dad arrived home and I watched him being accosted by the Parker woman over my earlier showdown, and from the body language it appeared she got short shrift as she disappeared down the drive as fast as her fat legs could carry her.
"The Parker woman has complained about your disgusting behaviour out in the street." Dad's storming reaction surprised me as he strode into the lounge and related the grisly details to Mummy whose light-hearted response turned his face bright red. "Girls do not behave in that way Susan - we might flash our knickers at our boy friends, but not to all and sundry no matter how much we are provoked - people don't want to know what we haddd for breakfast!" My embarrassed father quit the room double-quick and I caught a fleeting smile on Mummy's face as I followed her into the kitchen to help prepare the evening meal.
"It's Georgina's birthday next week Susan, and I doubt if she will want any of her friends to come along for a surprise party, so what do you suggest instead?" It didn't take me long to talk Mummy into having a party, but to my agenda, as I suggested inviting the three Rhodes 'girls' and Barry, but she balked when I added our cousins to the list.
"But Mummy, they have to find out about us some time and we haven't seen them for ages!" She looked doubtful as she considered the options - perhaps our revised lifestyle would ensure there was no repeat of the sibling rivalry which had kept us apart for so long - and now my gang were no longer on the scene we were hardly likely to get embroiled in any fisticuffs.
"Are you quite sure we should do this dear - you, your sisters and your friends could end up as laughing stocks, and cousin Trevor is a dreadful bully?" I swallowed hard. "Please Mummy, I know it will work out all right, so lets go ahead." With her agreement that the plans for the party should be kept from my new 'sisters', I was given the task of sending out the party invitations to those selected, and despite my cries of 'foul'I was told by Dad to include our cousins' parents on the approved list.
And so the momentous Saturday arrived, the two 'girls' having been packed off to Nannies overnight, leaving the thorny problem to Nanna of getting them into their party dresses, before being delivered back home in her car when all the guests had arrived. Barry arrived in the morning, and after I thanked him for the grown-up nightdress I found under my pillow, and obviously purlioned from 'Victoria's Secret', he disappeared upstairs to be replaced by the stunning Sarah as she skipped down the stairs to help Mummy and I blow up the balloons, prepare the food and lay the table. Dad had dived off to work and probably wouldn't be seen until it was all over, but he had filled the swimming pool overnight, although Mummy thought the water would still be too cold for a dip.
I had arranged for the Rhodes children to arrive an hour early, so as to get myself in the right mood to face my aunts, uncles and cousins, and dead on time there was a ring at the bell. "Hello my dear! I'm afraid my Simon 'chickened out' and isn't with us. - But my oh my! what a pretty party dress you are wearing!" I blushed at this greeting from 'Aunt Polly' as she ushered her three charges into the hall - all three similarly dressed in gorgeous satin and lace confections with a generous display of net petticoats peeping beneath their dresses, very much the same as mine. "Umm, thank you Aunt Polly, I'm pleased you like it." I stammered in reply.
"Hello girls, it's so lovely to see you again, and looking so delightful." Mummy had appeared in the hall and took over the sugary pleasantries as I sank into my shell at the sight of the beautiful Fiona, who outshone her sisters - and for good reason!
After their 'aunt' had taken her leave, Mummy suggested we collect Sarah and go and play upstairs to await the arrival of the others, so Paula and Geraldine took my hands as we skipped excitedly into the kitchen to find Sarah, and the five of us, with Fiona leading the way, dashed upstairs to my bedroom. We were in the back room, playing with my dolls house, and didn't hear the cars, so it was mother who called us from the foot of the stairs "Come here you girls, your cousins have arrived."
With Fiona's encouragement and poor me taking the lead, we trotted off in single file along the hall and down the stairs, but as I turned the corner on the landing, I found my self staring down into the startled faces of the rest of Dad's family. I was about to beat a hasty retreat back upstairs as I became consciously aware of my flimsy net petticoats tantalizingly displayed to my boy cousins as I descended the stairs, but with the crush of party dressed prima-donnas following behind me I had to continue my demoralising descent into the hall.
After we had all reached the relative safety of the ground floor, Mummy began the introductions to our relatives, beginning with the three Rhodes girls. "But where is the birthday boy, and your other two boys, Anne?" Was the immediate response from one of her brothers-in-law, Charles.
Mummy smiled sweetly, - "Oh, George and Martin are round at Mother's and will be back shortly" - "and this here is Sarah, a friend of Grahams,"- "I thought Graham was rather young for a girl-friend?" cut in Janet, mother's other sister-in-law. "And this is Susan, who I think you will all know." Eleven pairs of eyes now focussed on me as recognition dawned. "Why it IS Graham - you didn't say you were having a fancy dress party? - no wonder there are so many 'girls' in meringue dresses - but why no girls dressed as boys?" was Aunty Janet's comment and my cousins sniggered, as my friends and I shuffled uneasily in our sissy attire at my apparent omission.
"Actually, Auntie Janet, it isn't a fancy dress party; some of us are dressed up in girls clothes for pleasure, and because we like to, and the others as a punishment for bad behaviour, but who are the boys is for you to decide."
My cousins promptly collapsed in hoots of laughter at this blunt admission, and then, having found his voice, Trevor sneered meaningfully - "Well Da-arling cousin , it wont take us long to find that out , will it boys?" My friends now looked troubled and downcast at such an open-ended threat. "Now you lot stop that, anyone can make a mistake, and you do make a convincing girl in that pretty party dress, Graham!" and I responded with a "Thank you Uncle John, it was a present from Mummy and Daddy, but while I am dressed like this, please call me Susan!"
This prompted more incredulous stares and raucous laughter from the boys, and a rebuff from Uncle Charlie- "If I ever caught my two boys prancing around in pansy-girls petticoats like that, and asking to be called by a girls name, their backsides would be so sore they wouldn't sit down for a week!" But I just stood my ground, as mother interjected. "Well Charles, you know how troublesome Graham was last time we met, nine months ago was it? - and his improvement is mostly down to his school - which is why our other two are going there next term as well!"
Charles was spoiling for a fight following this revelation - "Its obvious who wears the trousers in this household, and it isn't that brother of mine!" But Mummy ignored the criticism as she continued - "Now Susan, you can take all your little cousins and friends into the games room for some soft drinks while us 'oldies' can go for a chin wag in the lounge."
As my subdued friends trotted along behind, I led my noisy cousins towards the games room. I felt the hair on the nape of my neck stand on end, as I heard the boys whispering to each other trying to guess who was what, and the best way to find out, and planning more nefarious schemes to make the party go with a swing! We must have looked a strange bunch, me and my friends in our elaborate dresses, while my four girl, and three boy cousins were dressed in casual wear, T - shirts and jeans or mini-skirts! It wasn't too long before Trevor was up to his old tricks and had Geraldine trapped in a half-nelson and despite our girlish squeals and strong protests from the girls he was egged on by the younger boys to subject Paula and me to similar treatment, although for obvious reasons Sarah was left unmolested and there appeared little we could do until the adults came back and took charge.
11. A Dare too far for my Cousins!
But young Sarah had her own ideas on how to 'trick or treat' my boy cousins, so when Mummy came in with some refreshments, and while the rest were guzzling their fizzy drinks, she told me her plan which would appeal to my female cousins, with the opportunity to put one over on their cocky brothers! So directly Andrew, Alan and Trevor finished their drinks, and dived off through the door into the garden, we explained the sting to our sceptical audience, before going off to find the necessary props.
Fifteen minutes later, the three boys were engaged in a simple race, which involved three plastic beakers full of liquid, and three bamboo canes. Each boy stood on the starting line and was holding his arms above his head at full stretch, gripping in one hand a fairly short cane by one end, while the other end was pushing the underside of a beaker, together with its contents firmly against the ceiling of the games room. Rachel explained the boys had to slide the beaker along the ceiling to the finishing line, by manipulating the tip of the cane against the edge of the inverted rim on the underside of the beaker, under pain of being declared a sissy if they dropped the beaker or failed to complete the task.
It looked quite easy, with the finishing line, a row of three chairs about four feet away, which the boys had to mount in order to retrieve the beaker full of liquid and thereby bring the race to an end - except for one reason - the ceiling was artexed. So before my cousins had time to realise the problem, we staged a demonstration as Sarah poured a yellow liquid from a container into a glass, and while the mixture boiled and bubbled, Sarah uttered the magic words 'sulphuric acid' and the boys instantly froze as we girls clapped our hands and giggled with glee at the success of Sarah's ruse!
Since they realised the apparent danger to their eyes because of this stupid joke, we taunted them with an undisclosed forfiet, for a period of hours, or until it was time to go home, which would allow them to recover the situation allegedly with their dignity intact! All three nodded their heads in agreement, while Trevor added how irresponsible we were being with such a dangerous prank, but they solemnly promised to comply with the terms of the alternative 'dare'.
The trap was now sprung as an elated Paula, Geraldine and Trevor's younger sisters trotted through the door carrying a selection of brightly coloured clothes from Sarah's extensive wardrobe in their arms! "You - you aren't going to dress us in those!" Trevor's voice was visibly shaking - "You heard what our Dad would do to me and my brother if he found out!"
My three cousins visibly paled as realisation dawned and ignoring their feeble protests we all set about removing their T-shirts, shoes, socks, vests and jeans ready for their transformation, while they concentrated stretching up to make sure the beakers retained their harmful contents until we were ready to release them from their bind. It was a painstaking and challenging task, but one which us girls enjoyed, even if the boys didn't, as we pulled the boy's arms from out of the armholes of their vests and off over their heads, before subjecting them to the indignity of enduring the procedure in reverse, as their heads and arms were cockled through the tight-fitting neck and armholes of their fluffy, puffy, short-sleeved dresses in shades of pale lavender or powder blue, then zipping them up at the back, as each boy, despite his uncomfortable position, passed his cane from one hand to the other without a drop of liquid being spilled.
The rest was easy! Unable to see what was going on in their 'nether regions' they followed our verbal instructions and blindly stepped into the multi-layered petticoats which we held open for them to step into, as we held their skirts up out of the way and pulled the dainty garments up round their waists, allowing the net petticoats to drape down round their thighs, before letting their skirts to fall back tidily into place. Rachel, Trevors elder sister returned to the room and despite the protests from the three new 'lassies', started taking pictures with her digital camera.
"Oh no! not that! dont take our pictures, our friends might see!" cried her brother. Rachels eyes gleamed in triumph as she continued clicking away. "But thats the whole idea darling brother, I don't think I will be subjected to any more skirt-flipping or thigh slapping from you from now on, do you? - thats if you don't want some of the same! - and any more bullying of your young sisters, and the evidence of how you will be spending your spare time from now on will be shown to your 'friends', do you understand, Tre- Tanya?" "Hmm! Thats a nice name for a nice girl, what do you think, Tanya?" Rachel thought for a moment, - "and Andrew, you can be Angela! thats what we can dub our two new 'sisters' from now on, agreed girls?"
"Can we call Alan - my sister Allyson!" chimed in Nicky, "He looks so much like a girl in my class at school" "Good thinking " replied Rachel and there were nods and giggles all round at the crestfallen faces of her two brothers and Alan/Allyson, their young cousin, as the boys' future was mapped out for them. "We have plenty of little-used 'cast-offs' which you two 'girls' will wear from time to time, and perhaps when Mum and Dad are at work, you can dress up and help us round the house, instead of bunking off to play with your friends, and if you are really good girls we might take you shopping to all those special shops you hate going in!"
The resignation on the faces of the three boys was complete, as we carried on with the task in hand. "What are you doing now?" pleaded Trevor, as he tried in vain to twist his head round and look down, as Alan and Andrew joined in with murmurs of apprehension and dismay as they felt their dresses being held aloft once more and we discreetly removed their trunks, replacing them with the frilliest girls knickers we could find! Dainty shoes and ankle socks followed, and with a touch of lipstick here, and a dab of perfume there, plus some back-combing and hair decorations, the task was complete!
We were just putting the finishing touches to our alluring young 'models', and with the aid of a chair had relieved them of their beakers and canes when in trooped the grown ups, with grandmother in the lead, escorting Martine, as she shuffled along hand-in-hand with Georgina, a very sad-looking birthday boy! The 'girls' were wearing matching ankle-length satin 'bridesmaid style' dresses in pale lemon, with floral tiaras in their curly hair, and white lace pinafores with dolly bags hanging from their matching elbow length gloves.
"Hi girls! - do you recognise your new girl cousins" My cheery greeting soon had their sweet faces visibly brightening at the sight of their emasculated boy cousins now arrayed in long muslin party dresses, beneath which protruded multiple layers of net petticoats and below that, the hems of their frilly knickers, with white ankle socks, white satin ballet slippers and pretty pink ribbons tied in their short, straight hair. Uncle Charlie's face was a picture of despair as he stared in horror at his two 'boys'!
To cap it all, amidst general laughter, I pattered over to the glass and downed the contents in one gulp! "Its only limeade spiked with liver salts!" was my cheeky comment as our three new 'recruits' realised they had been sold a dummy all round!
Even uncle's youngest boy, Andrew/Angela didn't help by going over to the mirror, smiling at his reflection, and then trotting over to his mother and with a coy smile on his face, lifting his dress and petticoats up at the front and saying, "Look Mother, Allyson Tanya and I are even wearing pretty frilly knickers underneath, just like you do!" "Yes Andrew, they are very pretty, but please put your dress down!" "But Mummy, Rachel is going to call me Angela from now on, so would you do the same, its a much prettier name than Andrew." With the sound of little Andrew's innocent remarks ringing in his ears, Uncle Charles fled the room. With all us boys now trapped in party dresses, the choice of games was firmly in the girls domain, as Auntie Brenda took us on to the patio for some fun.
Andrew watches Alan in his pretty lavender dress going into the swimming pool
But Trevor and Alan had other ideas when they noticed the swimming pool was full of water. "Come on Andrew, lets go in!" commanded Trevor, but Angela declined "It looks cold in there, and I don't want to get my pretty dress wet Tanya, I might have to take it off." - "But that's the general idea you dummy, and my name is Trevor just in case you forgot!" So while Angela sat in a poolside chair, she watched as her brother and their cousin walked down the steps of the pool and waded towards the deeper water.
A disobedient Trevor looks pleased with himself as he wades into our pool in his lovely blue dress!
But the two boys soon discovered that Angela was right, and the water had barely reached their waists when the intense cold made them turn tail and wade back the way they came, the experience made worse for Allyson as she stumbled in her waterlogged party dress and was immersed up to her neck in the icy water, coughing and spluttering as she staggered back to dry land.
An unhappy Alan slips over in the freezing water in the pool
"Can we change into our dry clothes now Auntie Brenda?" asked the boys hopefully, but the righteous indignation from the rest of us made sure that their nefarious plan was foiled. "Come on you two girls, a few energetic party games will soon dry your dresses out in the warm sunshine!" And so the partying began, and although most of the boys were fairly stiff and subdued to begin with, and just the silky, sulky, rustling of our underclothes and the pitter patter of our dolly shoes on the paved patio breaking the silence, and an occasional giggle from the girls, she soon had us playing 'spin the platter', 'in the pond', 'poor jenny', musical chairs and 'pass the parcel'.
The party spirit soon spread, and eventually we were all laughing, giggling and screaming with delight in spite of the sissy games, and calling to each other our sissy names as we all enjoyed a new, and novel experience 'prancing and dancing' until tea-time, when we were summoned to the conservatory for Georgina's birthday spread.
When Daddy arrived back from work at about seven, he went to take a look in the games room to find out what all the tittering and girlish giggling was about, but father was forced aside in a furious rush of feminine frillies and flattened against the wall as he fended off a flurry of flailing limbs as fourteen youngsters fled the room for a game of sardines. He put his hands to his face in despair, "Oh no! Not my three nephews too! - this is going too far!" and he slunk away to the kitchen to join Charles for a stiff drink.
After our guests had gone home, my new 'sister' wasn't very happy when some of her treasured birthday presents were taken away, "In-appropriate for a young girl!" was Mummy's comment, as Georgina despaired at the sight of the brand new dolls and dollies pram she had been presented with, and a promise of regular trips pushing her dollies to the park as a 'treat' ! I slept soundly that night, inwardly celebrating our success in out-witting the boys, and subjecting them to an ongoing taste of feminisation, which they certainly hadn't foreseen!
Even poor old Uncle Charles had to admit how well behaved his boys became during their 'initiation', so much so that with Sarah's permission, he insisted his boys return home in the dresses, just to make sure they behaved better in future - "Perhaps there is something in this 'petticoat punishment' lark!" He muttered to Mummy as he left, while Alan's parents and his two sisters were over the moon at "What a pretty girl" he made! - "Where is the special school that Susan goes to?" was Aunty Janet's next question, as 'Allyson' scowled and fidgetted uncomfortably in his frilly underwear,still damp from his mishap in the pool, as he anticipated having to make his journey home dressed in similar fashion to his cousins, so there appeared to be some positive progress on the way with an influx of possibly four new Maidment recruits next term!
Next morning, Mummy had an unexpected telephone call from Auntie Janet; Uncle Charles's car had broken down on the 60 mile journey home and the family spent the night in a hotel. The boys were aghast at having to eat dinner in the restuarant still dressed in their party frocks; - all their boys togs had 'accidentally' been left at our house!
But worse was to come, as most of the other hotel guests were there for an irish feis, and the impromptu floor show was a display of irish dancing by the young girls all dolled up in their brightly coloured embroidered dresses, and spectacular hair and head-dresses, while the dancing boys were sporting their plain kilts, their exertions being accompanied by accordian, violin and guitar.
My cousins' boyish ways were soon subject to comment with their short haircuts, fussy dresses and unladylike movements, so it was assumed by the other, giggling guests that they were dressed thus to give moral support to the boy dancers 'on stage', with whispered comments about how brave the two of them were, much to the amusement of Rachel, while the terrified pair shrunk down as far out or sight as their pretty dresses would permit.
The rest of their journey home was by taxi, and to the boys' horror, as Uncle Charlie was paying the taxi man in the street, two of their friends strolled up with the intention of asking them out to play, but as soon as recognition dawned, they burst into gales of laughter and ran off to tell their mates, and thus complete my cousins' abject humiliation!
12. Bridesmaids to Auntie Jean
One afternoon we were playing in the garden, and since it was a boiling hot day, were dressed in just our short skirts, short sleeved embroidered tops, and sandals. My hair was growing out quite nicely now, so I had it tied back in bunches, but my 'sisters' were thankfully contenting themselves with their boyish cuts.
"Come in here girls, I have a surprise for you." We trotted into the conservatory where Mummy was entertaining 'Aunt Jean', her best friend, and a man, who was apparently her fiancée. "Hello children? - My! What pretty girls you three make? - don't you think so Harry?" Harry nodded vigorously, while my brothers sheepishly stood their ground despite 'Aunty's' demoralising remark. "Now come and give your Auntie a kiss - I have a pressy for each of you."
We dutifully trotted over to where she was sitting and took turns to bend down and plant a kiss on her cheek and she handed a small package to me, and two huge boxes to my sisters. I was delighted to find my package contained a triple row of cultured pearls and matching drop earrings. "They are exactly the same as mine dear, so we will both have the same jewellery on my special day!"
The penny suddenly dropped as I realised I had forgotten all about my bridesmaid dress hanging in my wardrobe upstairs, and no doubt accounted for her visit to our house, so without hesitating I dashed off to change into something more suitable to set off my newly acquired gift.
When I returned I was confronted by the extraordinary sight of the two ladies buttoning two sullen, royal blue faced boys into matching flower girl dresses and multi-layered net petticoats having stripped them as far as their flower printed knickers and pink lacy crop-tops much to Harry's obvious amusement! "Ah! There you are Darling! - Come and stand by your sisters so that we can admire you all in your pretty outfits! "
Sulkily I rustled across the room as I realised there would be more than one 'fairy' at the forthcoming wedding, but in spite of our black looks, Aunty was enthralled, but someone else read the situation perfectly. "On the subject of pain, Susan , I must take you to have your ears pierced!" was Mummy's casual observation , as I stood with my earrings clenched in my delicate laced gloved fists!
The following Saturday we were dressed in "Mother and daughters" matching navy blue sailor dresses with white peter pan collars and white lace trimming round the hem of the skirts, sporting bright red neck ties and wide brimmed flowered straw boaters being driven by Daddy into Luton where we were delivered with our cases at Aunt Janet's house to prepare for the wedding while our parents drove on to the church.
We were each pounced upon by three teams of smartly dressed 'mother hens' as they fiddled and fussed over each of us vyeing to produce the 'prettiest of the pretty' . We were told Aunt Janet had no young nieces but plenty of nephews, and since she was god-mother to Georgina and myself, and knew I was used to wearing girls clothes at school, she was sure I would make an ideal bridesmaid, having seen the photos taken of me by Mummy at the White Hart Inn.
It was an added bonus to learn my brothers were also getting used to wearing dresses and that was the reason the three of us had been chosen as the attendants at her wedding.
Then came the endless chores of being bathed and powdered, having hair washed and conditioned in rollers, or as in the case of my brothers, having hairpieces fitted over their short hair, and being fed with light alcoholic drinks and refreshments.
We were each soon arrayed in a luxurious set of pink satin underwear set off by shiny white silken tights, topped with layer after layer of itchy net petticoats to give plenty of body to our flounced and tiered bridesmaid dresses which were now carefully lowered over our shoulders. With a light touch of make up and a dash of perfume here - here - and Oops! "giggle" - there! - finally the ladies spent an age arranging our hair to their total satisfaction before declaring us ready for the fray!
As our fairy godmothers went off to church, we pitter pattered off down the corridor in our dainty pink slipperettes and timidly tapped at the door to Aunt Janet's apartment which was opened by one of Aunty's three sisters. We were then invited into the 'inner sanctum', a bedroom sumptuously decorated in shades of pale cream and pink, thick pile carpet on the floor, a queen sized four-poster bed, and frills and flounces everywhere, while the other two sisters were painting her nails and finishing off Aunty's hair.
"My - oh - my! You all look so lovely! - Come over here my dears and give me a hug and a kiss!" We hesitated for a moment at the gushing invitation, overawed at a sight we had only seen on television, in the tabloids, or dreamed about in our dreams! But a tabloid picture couldn't reproduce the gorgeous creature occupying centre-stage, assisted by the heady, perfumed atmosphere permeating the paradise that room had created, laced with the generous excess of alcohol we had consumed!
"Don't be shy girls - I won't bite!" The lilting laughter from the four ladies involuntarily projected us across the room to the hassock were she was seductively seated in her bridal vestments, minus her wedding dress. She was unfazed by our obvious distress and discomfort at the noisy wriggling and rustling going on in our fancy fetters, fortunately out of sight, but not out of mind, beneath our pale pink satin dresses.
"Haven't you girls ever seen a lady in her sexy lingerie before?" At last I found my tongue and was able to splutter a reply, - "Umm, no Aunt Janet, - at least, not as nice as you look!" She was wearing a tiny white satin and lace corset to show off her boobs, silk french knickers, lacy top stockings, secured by ribbon bow suspenders to her satin corset, and one fancy blue garter decorating just one of her shapely legs.
Round her neck was the triple row of pearls which we three girls were also wearing, although I too was sporting pearl earrings hanging from my recently pierced ears. "When you girls are older, perhaps you might be dressed like this, in virginal white, waiting to be swept off your feet by your dashing groom!"
The three of us glanced at each other uneasily - "Well, we hope not Aunt Janet, they might find out we are only boys!" was Georgina's innocent reply, although I secretly hoped I would be dressed like her one day! "Well, whatever you may do my treasures, today you have helped make your god - mother very happy!"
We nervously watched while her sisters fitted her into her wedding dress, and having received a hug and kiss from the beautiful bride, we departed for the church chaperoned by the bride's three sisters as we giggled gaily with excitement at being chauffeured for our first ever trip in a white 'roller' the three miles from the bride's house to Luton Hoo for the wedding.
We felt like little princesses, waving back at the occasional smiling face en route, adorned as we were with flowered circlets pinned in our hair from which hung pink ribbons tumbling down past our powdered and perfumed shoulders, dainty pink satin slippers on our feet as we cradled floral posies of mixed freesias in the laps of our pink satin dresses, and feeling the exultation and jubilation of being pouffed up to the eyebrows!
On our arrival at the church we were assisted by the chauffeur, as we carefully dismounted from the limousine and waited under the lytch gate for the arrival of the bride escorted by her father, with the disconcerting presence of a large crowd of young enthusiastic well-wishers cheering us on, and most of whom were the boy and girl pupils of the bridegroom, who was evidently the Headmaster of the local primary school.
Little Georgina carried our posies while Martine and I supported the heavy satin train to the dress that our lovely bride was wearing, as escorted by the vicar, we slowly, and royally processed through the church yard in through the porch and up the aisle to be greeted by rows of happy, smiling faces as the guests peeked a first glimpse of the starring attractions as we processed to the altar where Harry and his best man was waiting for his blushing bride and her three gorgeous bridesmaids.
Under such conditions even three little boys could forget who they really were and become precocious feminine flowers for just a few hours! And this is actually what happened, especially during the photographs in the church yard, when we received our fair share of the floral confetti being deposited over the bride, and during the reception after the bridal toast of champagne and the wines we surreptitiously consumed, as the three of us happily partnered some of the young boys in the general dancing.
Meanwhile, Mummy and Daddy acquired the photographs to prove how much we had enjoyed ourselves on such a unique occasion, and although many of the guests knew our little secret, apart from one or two questioning glances, no-one challenged our novel attire!
It had been a long and tiring day for all of us, so having collected our cases from Aunt Janets, we set out for home still wearing our bridesmaid dresses, all of which were now very much the worse for wear, with grass and cola stains, a large tear in the seam of Georgina's dress, while in Martine's case - dried up sick all down her front and their pretty floral head-dresses nowhere to be seen, although I had managed to retain mine together with my posy! I sat in the front of the car with Dad, while Mummy cuddled her other two satin clad sissy-boys in the back as they slept their way through the journey home.
On Sunday, it was after lunch before my two sisters came round and staggered downstairs for a late breakfast, still in their nighties and dressing gowns, but they weren't very hungry and following a raid on the liver salts the two soon headed for the loos once again!
Later in the evening, Daddy handed each of us two gift-wrapped packages, one from Harry and one from the bride. "You girls were in no fit state to receive your presents last night, so you can open them now." "But why are we going to need girls watches, and what is this pin for?" asked Georgina, so Mummy took the watch and pinned the tiny gift to the ruched front of Georgina's blouse. "Well it is a very nice gift dear, - Perhaps he is trying to tell you girls something?" was her reply. "Nurses in hospitals have their watches pinned to the front of their uniforms - don't you think that's neat?" Georgina stamped her foot "I think it's a horrible present -it's a girl's watch and I hate it!"
With that she stormed out of the room without even bothering with her other present, but I was too busy pinning my watch in exactly the right place to worry about her! - and anyway, I still had another present to open! Surprise, surprise! My other present was a 'young teens' make-up kit for me and a junior version for each of my sisters - hardly likely to make the day their day - although my day was almost ruined just before I went to bed as I said 'night-night' to Mummy!
"When you go to bed dear, you will find a clean nighty laid out for you - I had to wash the other one." - "But I only wore a clean one last night, Mummy!" was my response. "Darling, I'm afraid there were some unsightly stains on it, and they certainly weren't skid-marks!"
I then recalled the weird dream from the night before, as I was pursued round an enormous bedroom by Aunt June in her sexy corset , suspenders, stockings and french knickers, while I was strapped in the hideous great corset, pantaloons, stockings and button boots I wore to Maidment school; hence the evidence of my exertions deposited on my nightdress for Mummy to find in the morning!
12. Back to School.
"Come on you boys! - time to go! - your sister is already waiting!" Yelled Dad, and eventually two disconsolent boys shambled unwillingly down the stairs to join us in the hall and traipse out to the car for the trip back to school. "But where are our cases Mum?" George and Martin had glanced in the back of the people carrier, but could only see my pink suitcase. "You will only need the clothes you are standing up in!" was the sharp reply from Mummy, as the boys were manhandled by Daddy into the back seat of the vehicle and the door slammed shut "But Mum, why are we wearing our old school uniforms to go to our new school?" - Our parents glanced at each other as we drove off. "Well you don't want to arrive there in your birthday suits, do you boys?" I laughed and followed up Dad's remark with - "Or perhaps you would prefer to wear your bridesmaid dresses - 'girls'?" and the two boys lapsed into an uneasy silence. We were rather late, so the chaotic scene that greeted us when we arrived in the school forecourt completely unnerved my brothers, with hoards of royal blue caped girls noisily milling about amongst the throng, squealing greetings, hugging and kissing and chattering excitedly to school friends before collecting their cases, bidding fond farewells to redundant parents, then dashing off to find their new dormitories.
Meanwhile a mixed group of boys, all dressed in a motley assortment of
schoolboy uniforms, some chatting animatedly to new found friends, others
talking quietly to parents, while the remainder were completely subdued,
standing awkwardly on the sidelines with their parents, until they were rounded
up by one of the teachers who was accompanied by one of the earlier disruptive
arrivals who had misbehaved, and was now paraded in front of the newcomers
having been forcibly dressed in one of the sissy party dresses and the other
dainty trimmings and underpinnings, to serve as a stark reminder of what to
expect if they didn't behave, but there was an embarrassed silence as the
meaning behind the threat struck home! Although I was disappointed not to have
seen the lovely Flora, the spotty-faced Ronnie was amongst their number, their
tearful expressions betraying their feelings for their new school, helpless,
afraid, and at a loss as to what would happen next, while a harassed Matron and
her staff began to muster all the newcomers, and herd them and their paltry
belongings towards dorm 1b. Emily and Patricia were just leaving the school
forecourt as we arrived, so with a quick peck on the cheek for Mummy, and a "Bye
Daddy!" - and a cheeky - "See you later 'girls'!" - I grabbed my case and dashed
off to catch up with my friends, while my two brothers remained mute and
immovable in the car! It took the rest of the day for us to settle into dorm 4g
and unpack our trunks which Fred had brought up from the store room, so it was
nearly bedtime before I was able to check up on my two brothers. Dorm 1b was a
mixed bunch, most of the boys, including George, would make up the nucleus of
form 1g, while Martin, one of the eldest would eventually join form 3g, as and
when he was fit and ready! I was now in my everyday pinafore dress as I bounded
into their dorm and trotted over to their adjoining beds and was surprised to
see Ronnie sitting there chatting away to them, so when they caught sight of me
they both looked most uncomfortable, while I could see Ronald was positively
boiling as he stood up in his dreaded school uniform to confront me! 'Ooops! Bad
move! I realised I had spent the recent car trip boasting about my successful
campaign against the boys from St. Marys, and Ronnie in particular, so he now
had plenty of reasons to fry my bacon, thanks to my brothers, and my crass
stupidity! "Still in your skirts then?" He sneered in a voice full of venom.
"Your brothers have been filling me in on your fun and games last term, so my
mates and I will make mincemeat of you next time we see you, and meanwhile, your
soppy little brothers had better look out for themselves - if I can't get you
right now, I will get them instead!" Despite the terrified expressions on the
faces of my kin, this was an argument I couldn't win, although I huffed and
puffed about reporting any bullying to Matron he just laughed and I soon quit
the dorm, my doo-dah firmly wedged between my legs in more ways than one,
leaving my demoralised brothers to their fate! When I returned to my dorm the
girls were getting ready for bed, so I was shocked when Emily and Patricia
stripped off their training bras, and saw the contrasting whiteness of their
budding breasts against the rest of their sun-tanned bodies- "You girls have
been wearing bikini tops?" - "Well we did go abroad for our holidays, so why not
wear bikinis" Emily then showed me her bikini line further down on her bot. "But
you are marked for life!" I gasped- "What if some boys see you?" but she just
smiled serenely - "Well that could be the general idea couldn't it? After all,
it is the reason we are all here, unless you know better!" - There was no answer
to that! what they decided to get up to was up to them as it appeared Emily and
Patricia had obviously joined the 'gender-gifted' ranks in the school. I
couldn't resist showing my friends Aunt June's wedding photographs to show off
our bridesmaid's dresses, while Emily and Amanda gave us a preview of their
holiday snaps in which they were wearing their bikinis and there was no doubt as
to whose photos had the greater impact!. At breakfast the following morning,
Martin was nursing a bruised eye in his skirmish with Ronnie, but it was all
caught on CCTV so Ronnie was now in 'solitary' in my old room, but little George
had escaped unscathed, although both were apprehensive about their kitting out,
not due for another weeks time, which gave the raw recruits an assimilation
period before their 'conversion', but both boys were adamant they had no
intention of ending up like me! "Poor buggers,' I thought to myself, recalling
my pathetic attempts to avoid becoming a perfumed and pantied boy. The
silver-tongued sirens within the school system would systematically strip away
their airs of superiority, seducing them into silken slavery, sharing sisterly
joys of sissy government in shimmering satin, as they become softly spoken
simpering saps, just like me! - I sighed with satisfaction -'Roll on the day!'
Amanda, Emily and I were now firm friends, as we put aside our rivalries and
prepared to face up to the problems closer ties with St. Mary's school would
bring. Undoubtedly some of the boys would be seeking retribution for last term's
incident after the fair, with the horrible Ronald able to spill the beans to his
former accomplices, given half the chance, (but on second thoughts, hardly
likely, seeing how HE would be dressed from now on!).