Bodice Ripper Reader

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By Bea

 

I’m not going to even pretend that Dorothy and I had a perfect marriage before Hortense came, but it was peaceful.  Dorothy had a little money from her parents, enough for us to live on.  We had Emily a local girl come in from the village on a part time basis.  Me?  I must admit that I didn’t do much of anything.  A little reading.  I little gardening.  Not much, but we were satisfied – I think.

 

I probably did – alright – I KNOW – I laughed at Dorothy’s first attempt at a Historical Romance – a Bodice Ripper – I told her – in an amused fashion of course.  She was apologetic in a nice way, but said that it gave her something to do.  Having been brought up as a proper young lady – with a few years in College to round her out – I don’t have any idea where those silly plots of hers would come from. To make things even more puzzling? The publisher raved about the first.  Then so did the public – women, all of them I suppose.

 

A little while later – for some reason, Dorothy never told me, she published another!  Then another!  Within a few years she actually had a FAN club!  Of all things!  Bunches of twittering women descending on us – and over my objections I may add. But the publisher pointed out that Dorothy owed it to her public, so I gave in with bad grace, I must admit.

 

Dorothy had always been a charming woman.  Did as I suggested with customary grace and a sense of ladylike humor. It was therefore a terrible surprise one day when she announced.

“I’m SURE you’ll love it darling!”

I looked up from my book. “Love what, my dear?”

“That’s you!  Nose stuck in a book! I was telling you my dear that I may have done something naughty!”

I smiled gently as I marked my page in the book.  “Naughty?  You, my dear?  Nonsense!  You couldn’t be naughty if you tried for a year!”

 

“You are the dearest, sweetest, husband!  I’m just positive that you’ll fall in love with our new house!  You’ve often said that this house is so small and pokey!”

I had little, if any, remembrance of me complaining about our house – but she had bought a new one?  Without consulting me?  But she was obviously so happy!  Naturally, being the male of the house, I had to look at the practicality of what she’d done.

“Oh darling! I hope that you haven’t signed anything of consequence, without me having a look at it?’ I was as nice as anyone could have hoped for!

 

A look of contrition was on her sweet face.  “But it was to be a surprise for you my darling! How could I tell you about it in advance?”

“Oh dear!  I hope that you haven’t done something womanly and stupid?” I couldn’t help it, knowing that my voice was rising – just a little mind you.  “After all, there are practical considerations! The monthly payments!  Taxes!  Upkeep!  All sorts of things!”

 

“Oh them?” She laughed with that beautiful tinkling laugh of hers that I loved so well.  “Well – with me buying the house outright?  There’s no monthly payments.  As far as taxes, I took the lawyers advice and placed enough in escrow to cover us for the next twenty years.  And upkeep?  I know that you will be delighted – I’ve asked Emily to work for us full time as our maid – cum housekeeper.”

“Huh?” I asked stupidly, inundated by events. “Where did you get the money?”

 

I will admit that my darling took on a smug expression.  Tinkled her laugh again. “Why my darling?  From those Bodice Rippers that I author.  Isn’t that what you called them?  So funny you were!”

“You made enough money from your writing to pay for all of this?” I said.

 

An astonished look came over her as she explained.

 “You see my darling?  I used to suggest that you kept an eye on my business, but you felt – amusingly – that I didn’t do enough money-wise to merit your attention.  So I had one of the publisher aides – a lovely girl called Hortense – advise me. She has been such a wonderful help while you were – were – were – busy with other things?  To tell the truth dear?  We’re quite rich now.”

 

There was an edge to her tone that I’d never heard before.  Naturally I put it down to the unusual aspect of what she was telling me.  Put my best face on it.

“Wonderful darling! Absolutely wonderful! Congratulations!  But Emily?  She’s so . . so . . young?  So . . so . . pretty?  Does she want to be stuck with us on a full time basis?”

“To tell you the truth dear?  She was a little concerned about you.”

“About ME?”

“Well, she did feel that you talked down to her quite a lot. I assured her that there wasn’t a snobbish bone in your body!”

 

“Snobbish?  Me? I honestly felt that the girl was more like a daughter to me. The only time I talked to her with any earnest intent was when I saw her walking out with that young lout from the village!” I was properly indignant.

Dorothy smiled warmly at me. “Of course dear! I knew that you were only looking after her interests! But you know that you should never, ever, have patted her backside?”

 

I was embarrassed. “Told you about that.  Did she? Well, I can’t deny the truth.  She just looked so sweet and innocent that I felt avuncular – like an uncle giving advice.  Patted her.  That’s all.  If I was wrong, I’m sorry.”

“Of COURSE dear.  But you won’t do it again – will you?  She’s a good servant, likes working for me.  I raised her wages and promised her some lovely new uniforms as an inducement.” She looked at me, and I could swear there was a shrewd look in her eye. “You will NOT do anything like that again.  Will you?”

Somehow, I felt as if my lovely wife was chastising me – and though that was obvious nonsense – hurried to convince her that I would be as good as gold.  Felt deliciously like a schoolboy in front of a master.  Nonsensically wondered how I’d feel if she was brandishing a cane around! Ha Ha!

 

The new house was lovely.  A fair size with some servants quarters. I breathed deeply with satisfaction once we moved. Of course I had very little to do with the ACTUAL purchase – but who had taught my rather dim little wife to behave so well – huh?  Naturally, I didn’t show this knowledge off to anyone – kept it to myself.  Just like a gentleman should!  Need I say more?

 

Though a few things bothered me, right from the start.

 

Emily became – as expected by Dorothy -  an exemplary house servant.  With her young girlish appearance and sprightly manner, one could expect nothing else.  She also looked wonderful, delighting in the beautiful servant uniforms that Dorothy indulged her in.  Toward me, however, she seemed to feel that I had wronged her.   It was hard to pin down, but if Dorothy asked her to do something while I was there, her dimpled face actually shone and her curtsies were things of grace.  If Dorothy wasn’t there, however, it was as if her curtsies were short – if they existed at all – when I told her to do something.  She’d do whatever I asked – but don’t ask me how many times she’d ‘misinterpret’ what I’d tell her – then look at me insolently as I explained what I really wanted.  Her explanations, if given, were often bordering on insolence.  Altogether, I wasn’t happy with her.

 

It’s probably true that I did try to get her fired.  Just got fed up with her one day. Thank goodness I had enough sense to go and speak to Dorothy first, she’d have probably been offended if I’d fired Emily on my own, as I came very close to doing..  I probably saw that she was busy with her writing and should have been more circumspect I suppose but – as Dorothy pointed out later – she was not accustomed to me becoming involved with anything to do with – women’s work – the running of the house.  I was probably more surprised than offended by her glaring at me – MY sweet and loving wife?  But I had to agree that my timing and attitude were probably all wrong.

 

“This is awful!”  She said. “I don’t really have time for tiny little household matters today.  But I suppose we should get it all cleared up.  Would you go and get her?  Bring her here?”

I smiled graciously. “Whatever for darling?  I can see that my timing was bad.  Let’s just forget the whole deal, shall we?”

She stared at me.  “No Dennis.  Let’s just get this out into the open.  If the girl deserves to be discharged, I will do exactly that.  But if she doesn’t?”  She left the rest unsaid. “Just go and get her, will you dear?”

 

“What does the mistress want?” Emily asked me in a worried tone when I got her.

“Hah!  Well. She may have got the idea that  – well, I suppose I’d best leave explanations up to her.  Nothing of great importance!”

 

I must admit that Dorothy explained everything in the nicest possible light – but once she saw what had happened, Emily was livid.

“You can have my resignation right now Miss Dorothy!” she quivered. “You are wonderful.  But this man . . this man . .”  Words failed her.

“Oh dear.  Don’t be silly!” Dorothy calmed her.  “The master indicated that you weren’t being properly respectful of him and . .”

“ME?  Not respectful of HIM?”  Emily broke in excitedly.  “He talks to me as if I was some sort of lower caste.  All I can see is him doing nothing – and you doing all of the work.  He’s not nice to me!  I just respond in kind!  I always do as he wants . .”

 

Dorothy broke in kindly.  “Emily!  Dear Emily.  Don’t you worry about a thing!  Just go on about your business, and I’ll have a little talk with my husband.  Okay?” 

I was starting to say something as Emily curtsied, glared at me, then left.  A freeze in Dorothy’s eyes put a stop to any ideas I had along those lines – at least until Emily closed the door behind her.

“Dorothy?  You’ve had a hard day . .”  I started pleasantly.

“And it wasn’t made any easier by you!” she said, practically snarling.  “Getting me all involved with your petty disputes with my maid!  Honestly . .”

“Well I tried to tell you . .”

“IF   YOU  INTERRUPT   ME   ONE   MORE   TIME?”  She spat out slowly, one word at a time.  “I’ll do what your mother suggested and put you over my knee!  Give you a damn good spanking!”

 

She wasn’t kidding and I blanched.  Tried to talk my way out of it.  “Darling?  It wasn’t altogether my fault you know . .”

“ENOUGH!” She almost shouted. “I’ve heard you speak to Emily as if she’s some brainless twit – you even talk to ME sometimes as if I’d only half a brain!  You’d think that college degree you got was something special! Now I’m TELLING you!  Behave!  Get on well with Emily – and Hortense too!  She’s starting to think that you’re some kind of a snob.  Now start repairing fences – or by God you’ll make me mad!  That what you want to do?”

I shook my head.  Obviously the poor dear was tired.

“Well your mother said that your cousins treated you badly and gave you some sort of a psychosis!  I’ve put up with it for some time.  But no more.  I warn you!  My sympathy only goes so far!”

She continued to glare at me, but said nothing more.  Just waved me away.  Common sense being called for, I didn’t say anything and walked away.

 

That silence explains why I almost fell over Emily, who was obviously listening at the door. My first reaction was delight – I could take her back in to Dorothy!  See what she thought of her little darling then!  But I immediately reconsidered. Dorothy really wasn’t in the humor to be bothered any more.

“That’s disgraceful Emily!” I whispered. “I’ve a good mind to take you back into Dorothy again!” I said this after I closed the door.

She eyed me.  Scared at first, then confidently.  Even put her hands on her hips and smiled. “Okay then?  Do just that.  Be a tattle tale!”

 

I immediately went to my high horse attitude.  “I think you should appreciate what I’m trying to do for you, Emily!”

She shot me down immediately. “Or maybe you’re just scared that Mistress Dorothy will put you over her knees and spank you on your bottom?”

“Nonsense!”  She’d overheard us!  My mouth was dry!

She shot me an evil grin. “Or maybe I should take YOU back in there, huh?  Tell Mistress that you spoke meanly to me again?  See how she felt then?”

I made a mistake at that point. Let my weakness show.  “Please Emily?  Please let’s not do that.  Be friends?”

She smiled slowly and confidently now. “Of course Dennis. You don’t mind if I call you that, do you?  Much friendlier and I’m sure that the Mistress would be happier with you if we were friends.”

My smile was a little forced, but she did make sense. “Of course – Emily.”

She didn’t even pretend to curtsey, but smiled. “Wonderful!  Now why don’t the two of us go and have a nice cup of tea? Start becoming REAL friends?”

 

This made me very nervous. Okay, Dorothy had indicated that I should get along with Emily but frankly?  I’m a little nervous of women – Dorothy excepted of course, although even she can make me feel a little nervous at times. This seemed to be a little too friendly, but I didn’t know how to get out of it.  I did try though.

“That’s a LOVELY invite Emily!  But I’ve..”

She stared at me and interrupted in a tone that brooked no nonsense. “I’d really like you to come with me, Dennis.  Please?”

It wasn’t as nice a tone as before, but I hated to let the young girl down.  After all, she had made it SO obvious that she wanted us to be friends. Accordingly, I followed her down into the kitchen. To be honest, I thought that she linked arms with me went a little too far, but she DID smell nice – and the sound of her uniform was pleasant, so I didn’t complain.

 

I also felt uncomfortable with her sitting side by side with me as we drank our tea.  Okay, I’m a man and she’s a woman (damned attractive too) but I felt that she was predatory in a way.  I’d have described her as being aggressive if I didn’t know better.

 

When we were about half way through our tea she put a warm hand on my thigh. “Now tell me about those terrible cousins of yours. The ones that gave you such a complex.  Boys can be such monsters, can’t they?”

“Boys?”

“Yes, your cousins!”

“Oh, I’m sorry.  My cousins were girls.”

 

I could see that she was taken aback, but she recovered. “Well, girls can be naughty and do mean things at times.  You were probably a little scamp, weren’t you.  Teased girls who were much older than you.”

I blinked. “They really weren’t that much older – in fact Terry and Nancy were younger and I wasn’t really a scamp.  They just bullied me is all.   But honestly Emily?  I don’t like to talk about it.”

She smiled softly and stroked my thigh. “Dennis?  You obviously don’t have much faith in women – you don’t trust us!  But your wife has secrets about you that she never divulged – that spanking thing she was talking about.  Even I know some secrets about you that I’ve never discussed.”

“Secrets?  I don’t have any secrets!” I said, even though I knew I was mumbling.

 

“Silly boy!  Think I don’t know that you and Mistress don’t share a conjugal bed? And that if she wants sex, she visits you – not the other way around?”

“I’m  .. I’m . . not so sure that that’s absolutely correct.”  I said defensively.

“Dennis!  Who do you think does the bed sheets?  Think I’m silly?  Now, I’m just trying to tell you that the Mistress and me – we’re both girls – and I’m sure you’ll feel better once you tell me about your cousins.”

“But I don’t . .”

“Dennis!  How can we possibly be friends if I know that you keep secrets from me?  Come on now – please!”

 

I sighed and felt myself relax.  Her hand was now stroking my thigh regularly and it was kinda sexy – but relaxing too.  Almost hypnotic.

“Those girls?  Bigger than you?” she whispered.

“Well Joan was a little bit – but I was small, and Terry and Nancy were about the same size as me.  They all looked alike.  Blonde and on the thin side.”

“All gang up on you?  I mean, three girls to one boy – that wouldn’t be fair, would it?”

I shuddered. “No Emily.  It was just that I’d never been brought up to fight – and all three girls just seemed to thrive on rough stuff.”  My voice got bitter. “Real tomboys!”

 

“Girls like that are a disgrace to their sex!”  she said soothingly.  “Can be really mean!  Did they bully you?”

“Yes. They’d tease me more than anything.”

“They should have got a good spanking! Didn’t your mummy see what was going on?”

I sighed.  “She felt it would do me good. Teach me to fight back. Then when I didn’t . .” I stopped.

“They teased you more?  Spanked you?  Naughty girls!”

“Not very often,”  I said. “Just when I was naughty.”

“But Dennis?  You don’t sound as if you were naughty to me!”

I was having a terrible job saying what actually happened, but couldn’t.  Finally managed to say. “When I complained or wouldn’t act properly.  They’d say I was naughty!”

 

“But girls like to tease boys.  Make them act properly.  Surely there’s nothing wrong with that?”  She spoke so softly and understandingly. Kept on stroking my thigh. It didn’t feel so bad to finally admit it.

“They wanted me to act like a girl.”

“Oh, you poor thing!”  Now she was actually hugging me!  I almost complained, but really it felt so nice and, to tell the truth, Dorothy hadn’t come to my bed in quite some time.  It was nice.  “What did they make you do?  Girl things like knit or sew?”

“Yes.” Then I found myself blurting.  “And to wear girl things at the time!”

“Bad girls! Make you wear hair barrettes?  You’re hair is nice and I could understand that!”

 

Somehow, I was on my back, my head on her soft. Silky, lap – and I was looking up into her sympathetic eyes.  I could not speak.  Shook my head.  She kissed me softly. “It’s all right Dennis.  Tell Emily now!”   I knew that she was being firm for my own good.

“Made me dress up in girl clothes!  Curled my hair – and they made me wear makeup!” I finally confessed.

“My goodness! Nice undies too? Call you Denise?”

“Yesssss!”

“But little boys look so much like little girls – I know.  I used to have such fun with my six year old nephew.  He quite liked being dressed up to look pretty, I think.”

I stared up at her. “But I was fifteen!”

 

Her mouth formed a perfect circle.  “Ooooh!  But just for little lengths of time – surely?”

I could feel the blush rise all the way up my face. “They dressed me as a girl the first week – and kept me that way for the next few months!”

“But didn’t your mummy say anything?”

“No.  She even gave them clothes she’d kept from when she was a young girl.”  I added bitterly. “There even were times when we’d all eat – and they’d all be – my mother as well – in jeans and tops – and I’d be in pretty party dresses and all made up. If I complained, she’d giggle and used to tell me in front of them that they were doing it all for my own good.  When I got some backbone – like a man – they’d stop.”

“Well?  Maybe she was right?”

I felt the tears come to my eyes. “I DID try once or twice, but it was SO hard.  I’d be in little frilly dresses and makeup – and by that time they even had me acting like a girl – and they’d be in cut offs or some other rough clothes.  I stopped trying when Nancy, the smallest and youngest, hardly even tried – and mummy came and saw us fight – if that’s the word.  Nancy was laughing so hard as she finally put me over her knees and spanked me on my panties!  That was bad enough, but then mummy got very sarcastic and made me put on a nightgown and peignoir set – and keep it on until that night – and get my hair done – right beside her!”

 

“Oh!  That’s such a shame!” She said. “But I’ll bet you made a pretty girl – didn’t you? I can see that you still have nice and soft arms, curly eyelashes.  Wavy hair?”

“That’s not the point!” I tried to say, but she kept kissing me with her hand stroking me. It was further up now.  

“Please stop Emily?” I said.

“But I’m just being friendly! Isn’t that what we should be doing?”  Then she gasped.  “What are you DOING?  Look at the mess you’ve made of my lovely clean apron!  Oh, wait till the Mistress hears of how I tried to be friendly and you got all sexual and came all over yourself!  Yech!”

 

I gazed up at her.  “Oh please Emily?  I didn’t mean it! Don’t tell Dorothy!  Please!”

“Silly thing!” she cooed and kissed me tenderly.  “I can see that you want to be my friend now – and friends don’t tattle on their friends.  Isn’t that right? You want to be my friend, don’t you?”

I really didn’t care for her mistaking my attempts at friendship.  After all I was still – or Dorothy was – her employer.  But what could I do?
“Of course Emily!” I breathed.

 

“Thought so!  Now, if you don’t mind? I know I’m just a maid, but I HATE doing laundry!” She giggled.  “And I especially don’t want to clean your current clothes up – you can see that, can’t you?”

“Oh yes.  But what do I do?” I asked.

“Go and change out of them – then bring all your dirty washing down to the utility room and I’ll show you how to use the machines.” She smiled.  “I bet that your cousins taught you how to wash and iron nicely, didn’t they?”

“Yes.  I guess so.” I admitted somewhat reluctantly.

“Great!  Stop being so shy! And maybe you could do mine while you’re at it? Like I say, I hate doing that stuff – and what are friends for?”

 

*     *     *

 

Three or four weeks later, Hortense joined our household.  Nothing much had changed, although Dorothy seemed busier than ever and hadn’t chided me for being unfriendly with Emily again.  This may have been due to the fact that, unbeknownst to her I was doing Emily a favor – just now and then, but our relationship was much different.

 

I had met Hortense a few times when she came to visit.  Another sycophant for Dorothy I thought.  A rather nice looking girl I suppose although not the type of woman I normally like.  I mean – Emily now – is a perfect example of the type of girl I have always enjoyed.  Rounded and soft.   Dimples.  Feminine.  A mite bossy at times – ha ha – but what woman isn’t, huh?

 

Hortense, although a nice looking woman I suppose, was more business like. Rather mannish with short straight hair and rather commanding blue eyes. Very low voice.  She doted on Dorothy – made it clear that she thought Dorothy could walk on water.  Me?  She was polite enough. But suffered me more than anything else. Reminded me in some ways of my cousins.  That thought made me shudder at times.

 

Then, to my complete surprise Dorothy and Hortense called me into Dorothy’s study one day.  They were so happy when Dorothy informed me that she’d hired Hortense on – as a sort of private secretary.  Again, I probably could have done a better job of welcoming her. But I was surprised.

“Why on earth would YOU need a private secretary?” I blurted.

Dorothy’s warmth diminished. “I know that you are BUSY with your own affairs, but have you any idea of how much clerical and secretarial duties are tied in with what I do?  The public relations that have to be kept up with my fan clubs?  The many trivial things that keep me from my writing?  I’m SURE that you have never considered them – but they have to be done, nonetheless.  What do you think keeps this house up?”

 

I saw that I had upset her and turned on my charm. “Mea Culpa my dear!  I was hasty and thoughtless.  Please forgive me!”

 

She forgave me with a smile, but it was not a good beginning between Hortense and myself.  She was pleasant enough to me and I have to admit that when Dorothy wasn’t there, I could have been more pleasant – but I don’t think I deserved the treatment that followed about a week or two later.

 

Dorothy was working in her office and Hortense was poring over some books in the library when I went in to check one of my crossword entries in the dictionary – one of those obscure words that just seem wrong. We nodded to each other as I went in, but then I got the dictionary and, still standing, checked the word to my satisfaction. Closed the dictionary and shelved it.  Started to leave.

“Oh Dennis?” she spoke most cordially.

“Yes?”  (I’ll admit that I could have been more cordial – but I wasn’t THAT bad!”

Her voice was still pleasant, but her words made me halt.

“Be a dear, Dennis. Go up to my room and fetch me the shawl that’s lying on top of my bed. This room is rather drafty.”

 

“Are you paralyzed?” I asked – still a little edgy, I must admit.

“No.  I just want you to get my shawl and fetch it here!”  She was staring at me over her book now in a very confident, belligerent, attitude.

I felt myself weaken.  After all, I hadn’t had Dorothy upset with me for a while and didn’t want any quarrel to start between the most recent member of our staff and myself.  I managed a sort of smile.

“Sorry Hortense.  I didn’t mean that to sound as bad as it did.  I’ll just go and tell Emily.”

“You’ll do no such thing!  Emily may be busy – and anyway?  I want YOU to do it. Now, my shawl please?”

 

I stared at her for a minute.  Felt the old compulsion to do as any confident woman told me to do, but knew that things were getting out of hand.  Had to make a stand.

“I don’t understand this.  Who do you think you are?” I asked.

I think she heard the weakness in my voice because at that point a small smile crossed her lips and she leaned back. “Since you ask?  I’m Dorothy’s second in command. I’m in charge of this house.  Other than her?  I call the shots here.”

“Not for me.  I’m Dorothy’s husband!” I retorted.  “I don’t report to you!”

“Oh.  You agree that I tell Emily what to do? If you don’t, should I call her here to find out?”

“We all tell Emily what to do,” I stated.

“Oh?  I thought it was her told YOU what to do!”

I felt my knees buckle slightly.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I managed to get some indignation in my voice.

 

She leaned forward, smiling openly now.  “When was the last time she did the washing or ironing?”

“Oh THAT?  I only do that as a favor to her – she really hates laundry.” I tried.

“So you do it for her?  How nice.” Sarcasm was evident.

“I don’t understand how you know all this!” I said.

Her smile deepened.  “Emily and I get along just wonderfully.  But she’s just a young girl.  Likes to boast a little to her superiors – me.”  She shrugged.  “Strangely?  She doesn’t feel that you are her superior!  Matter of fact?  She hinted that YOU do what SHE tells you!”

 

I swallowed.  “Nonsense!  She’s just a poor, uneducated girl!”

“While you are far superior with your college degree?”

“That’s not the way I would put it – but yes!”

 

Her smile left her.  “You boast about that degree a lot. The only thing is I find that when I go to work for somebody like Dorothy?  I check them out – completely. You only did one year of college, didn’t you?  Didn’t even pass all of your courses, did you?  So that degree is a figment of your imagination. Like me to pass that onto Dorothy?”

“Hortense?  I’m sorry.”  I managed a weak smile.  “We got off on the wrong foot.  Can we be friends?”

“I don’t know about friends.  But about that shawl?”

“Let me get that for you,” I said humbly.

“Why don’t you do that?” she asked pleasantly… .

 

“Would you like to drape that around my shoulders dear?” she asked when I returned with her shawl.

“What else can a gentleman do?” I asked gallantly and went and carefully draped her shawl around her shoulders.

“I don’t know,” she admitted when I finished. “But when gentlemen do the ironing? Do they give any ladies lingerie a little touch to keep it fresh?”

“Please Hortense?” I asked abjectly.

“Well?  That’s what I want you to do when you do mine.  Also put them away very neatly in my chest of drawers when you’re done. The same for Dorothy.  What Emily gets is between you two.  Any problem with that?”

“None.  Is that all Hortense?”

 

She then proceeded to twist the knife. “Of course not. You have been waking Emily up in the morning with her tea – correct? Or is this just another sign of your authority over an uneducated girl?”

“She likes it.”  I admitted.

“So do I.  So add me to your list of people to wake up with tea.  You don’t have a problem with that?”

“No Hortense.”

“Good.  Off you go now.”

“Thank you,” I said and started to leave.

 

She halted me. “Before you go.  Understand.  When Dorothy asks you to do something – you jump. When I tell you to do something, you don’t need to jump quite as high but you’d better NOT argue.”  She shrugged. “I don’t really know how much Emily was boasting – but if she tells you to do something?  I’d think before I refused if I were you. Got that?”

I nodded glumly but didn’t answer as I left. I heard the sound of a tinkle of feminine laughter come from behind the door as I closed it.

 

Okay, doing laundry isn’t too feminine, but when you take early morning tea in to someone on a regular basis, that’s bad enough.  Not too bad because the person is usually sleepy and doesn’t meet your eyes. But entering a woman’s bedroom with clothes that you’ve washed and ironed? Something else all together.  I usually put Emily’s laundry away when I knew she was I another part of the house, but it was nearly impossible with Hortense – and I goofed the very first time.

 

She smiled nicely when she came in and caught me hanging up her blouses and a skirt.  I’d laid her lingerie – pretty stuff it was too – all folded on top of her bed.

“That looks lovely!” She smiled and went and fingered her lingerie. “No bother in handling my intimate undies?”

“No, Hortense.”

“Wonderful!  I wondered how a man would feel doing such a thing.  But I shouldn’t have worried about you – should I?”

Her eyebrows were raised as she asked me.

 

“What was that dear?” she asked clearly, as I mumbled something.

“No problem.” I managed.

“Much better.  Now let me show you where I like my lingerie.  Put my panties over here, my slips over here, and my bras here. Stockings here. Let me see you do it so that you won’t forget next time.

Blushing furiously now, I had to put her clothes into the areas she’d indicated, while she stood by and watched. I won’t say that she gloated – but there was a decided air of satisfaction as she dismissed me, saying that she was VERY pleased with me.

 

I don’t care. I was still the only man in the house, but doing a few of the tasks that rightly belong to the maid?  Diminishes one.  Though, in all honesty, both Hortense and Emily seemed friendlier toward me.  There never HAD been a great deal of respect offered me, and that definitely diminished – but that was about the only change that I could put my finger on.  Dorothy seemed totally unaware of what was going on – but naturally, that changed.

 

Let’s face it.  I did what Hortense ’suggested’ and though it didn’t amount to a great deal it became pretty obvious that she looked upon me and Emily as equals.  Naturally, it didn’t take Emily long to consider this her due – though there is no doubt that she considered herself MY superior although, at that time I think she was too scared to press this idea. Just as long as I did what she wanted, she’d leave things as they were.  But as I just said, things changed.

 

When Hortense first ’suggested’ it, I have to agree that I was all for it.  Dorothy was deeply involved in a major re-write and liked to spend the evening on it – leaving the remaining three to our own devices.  Hortense suggested that we get together in the lounge area and watch TV  - read magazines – whatever, but together.  This way we’d all get some company.  Maybe become friendlier?

 

Emily was definitely partial to it.  She had her own lounge area, but the idea of a larger TV and company was very appealing to her. On top of that, she was struggling to learn to knit and crochet.  Had a book and was starting to practice more – so the idea of more company was very receptive to her.  Since Hortense had come, I’d found that Dorothy spent a lot more time working in the evening so, frankly, I was starting to feel quite alone myself.  So the idea of company at night was quite appealing.

 

It wasn’t bad at all.  Okay, it got established pretty quickly that if something was needed Dennis would get it.  After all, it was explained – smilingly – that the other two worked for a living – it was only fair that I do any small favors that were required. I really couldn’t argue with this – but I felt that it might be taken as another small instance of the hierarchy within the house – but no one ever mentioned this – so I didn’t.

 

We hadn’t been doing it long when one evening Dorothy had obviously had more than her normal intake of pre-dinner drinks.  Then a few glasses of wine with dinner – and a few liqueurs afterwards.  But she was not mean with alcohol, so the rest of us just smiled gently at her.  Then, another drink in hand, she excused herself to go and work.

 

Hortense and I chatted for a while then, Dorothy out of the way, we helped Emily tidy up and once we were ready, retired to the TV room and settled down.  I had my crossword.  Hortense had a book.  Emily was concentrating fiercely on a crocheting book and practicing with her needles, muttering to herself.  Then, just around nine o’clock, Dorothy wanders in – (with a fresh drink in her hand I notice) and says that she is fed up working.  Can she join us?  Naturally, we all smile and she sits beside Emily.  Looks intently.

“What’s that?” she asks Emily after a moment or two.

Emily laughs. “Supposed to be crocheting – but I know it’s a mess.  Just can’t seem to get the hang of it.”

“So?  Why don’t you ask Dennis to teach you?  He’s really good at all that stuff.  Crochet, knitting, sewing!”  Dorothy was quite matter of fact.

“Dennis?” Emily and Hortense both laughed disbelievingly at the same time.

“Yeah!” Dorothy responded, a little stung by their laughter. “According to his mother, his cousins made him learn all that stuff in the three years they visited.”

 

“Cousins?”  Hortense asked.

“THREE years?” Emily asked.  “I thought they only came for ONE?”

 

Dorothy looked at me. “Been telling Emily all about those three girls that made your life a misery? I thought it was a big dark secret?”  She turned to Emily. “He didn’t say that they came to visit him and his mother for three years in a row?”

As Emily shook her head, Hortense spoke again.  “I haven’t heard anything about cousins?” She laughed. “Made his life a misery for three years?  And what does teaching him to sew and crochet have to do with it?”

 

“Yes.”  Dorothy giggled, a little tipsily. “His mother told me all about it.  Roared with laughter too.  Those girls made my husband dress up like a girl.  Made him learn to act like one too! According to her he was quite pretty as well.”

“Well!  I think that was mean of her!” Hortense said after a pause.  “Letting that go on for two years after the first time? I think that’s very mean!  Making a boy wear dresses!  Goodness sake!”

 

Dorothy shrugged. “Well as far as I know he did put up a struggle the first year – but after that? I don’t think he gave them any trouble.  May even have helped?”  She shrugged.  After the first time, he didn’t need to be told.”

“Huh?”  Hortense asked.

“Oh, his mum thought that if he stood up to them, showed some backbone, it would make him a man.  But she told me that on the second year when she told him they were coming, he got all pale and frightened. Talked about running away.”  She took a sip of her drink. “She thought that that was at least SOME show of manliness.”  She shrugged. “But he didn’t. Came to her two nights before they arrived, all weak and trembling.  At HIS request, she showed him her old outfits that would fit him.  Then she curled his hair.  When his cousins arrived, he was just a pretty girl.”

 

“The next year too?” Emily asked.

“Oh yes.  Same thing, only this time he was well ready for them.  Dressed as a girl for four days before they got there.”

“Oh Dennis!  How could you!” Hortense asked me.

Dorothy didn’t wait for my answer. “The fourth year they weren’t coming – but his sweet mum told him they were due. He was a girl for a week before she broke the news.  She thought it was funny.”

“I’m still not sure about his mother!”  Hortense maintained, although she wasn’t as sympathetic to me as she’d been.  “I’m still mixed up Dorothy?” she said. “About the sewing and stuff?”

 

“I’m not sure of this.”  Dorothy said. “But the three girls were ALL tomboys, but their mother wanted them to be LADIES. When they came to live with his mother, she was the first adult that didn’t give a shit about how they dressed or behaved and they learned they could act and dress any way they wanted.  They weren’t too far off his size – and once they learned that he didn’t have the will power to argue with them?  Why, they made him into the little girl their own mother had always demanded. It may have been their way of getting payback.  I don’t know. But he was NEVER out of little party dresses and crinolines- and ALWAYS doing girlish things while they stayed with his mother.  That’s why he learned to sew and stuff.  Matter of fact?  I don’t think there’s a girl thing around a house he can’t do.”  She looked at me, and I could see that she knew she’d talked too much – but she finished up.  “They’d sit around in his clothes – boy stuff like jeans and cut offs – and make sure he was the perfect little lady in his petticoats, dresses, and hats.”

 

She looked at her glass. “Think I’ve gossiped long enough – and think I need another drink. Goodnight girls!”  And headed for the door.

“Goodnight Dorothy!”  Hortense and Emily answered immediately.  I didn’t.

“Oh dear!”  Dorothy laughed as she opened the door.  “Naturally, I meant to say ‘Goodnight Dennis’ too.  Sorry.”

“That’s okay Dorothy.  G’night and sweet dreams.”  I said, but I knew there was bitterness in my voice.

 

I blew out my cheeks as she left. Was totally unprepared for what followed next. Emily threw her crochet work into her bag quite violently, with her mouth pursed.  “Good NIGHT!” she said and stormed from the room!

“What the hell is . . .?” I started.

“Oh Dennis.  Stop that!” Hortense said.

“Eh?”  I asked.

“You don’t know that you’ve hurt Emily’s feelings?” Hortense asked in a disbelieving tone. “You don’t KNOW?”

“I’m lost. No, I don’t know!” I said.

 

She looked at me.  “Emily thinks that you’re her friend!  Thinks that you sat laughing at her while she struggled with crochet and could have helped her . .”

“Well?  She IS pretty bad!” I laughed, then realized what I’d said.  “But WHAT am I supposed to do?” I asked plaintively.

“What else?  Teach her!  Or are you not friends?”

“Well?  She is  - I don’t want to sound  - but –”

She finished what I was trying to say.  “A maid?”

“Yes.  I don’t want to sound like a snob, but . .”

 

She held up a hand to stop me. “Dennis?  Who takes her tea every morning?  Who does her laundry?  Irons her undies?  I hate to say it dear – but you’re HER maid as much as she’s yours!  You tell me that you want to be her friend – then when you’re given a chance . .”

“You’re right.  What should I do?”  I hated to admit it – but just didn’t want to hear any more.

“Go to her right now.  Apologize. Offer to teach her!  I’d get to it!”

 

“Who is it?” Emily called through the door a few minutes later.

“Dennis.  Can I talk to you?” I said

“Come in.” she said, but sounded distant.

“I wasn’t laughing at you Emily.  I just wasn’t thinking.  That’s all”

“Sewing and crocheting too girly? Too feminine?” She asked bitterly.

“I really didn’t think of it.  Honest.”

“Well?  What do you want to talk about, huh?  Laugh at me some more?”  She was getting pretty mad.

“Oh no.  I wanted to ask if – maybe – I could teach you – if you still wanted? I’m not really that good – and I probably have forgotten.”

She brightened. “You really would?”

I hid my sigh.  “Yes.  Of course.”

 

Just then a knock came to the door.

“Grief, I’m popular tonight,”  Emily whispered then said.  “Yes?”

“It’s Dorothy.  I have something for you.”

Emily jumped to the door.  “Come in Miss Dorothy, come IN!”

 

Dorothy came in.  She had a fair sized bundle of shiny garments with her. “Hi” she said to Emily. “Mom left me these sewing jackets. Not something I would ever use.  Thought you might get some use out of them.”  She handed them to Emily, then looked at me. “What are you up to?  Running around behind my back?”  She was obviously joking.

 

“Oh no!”  Emily laughed.  “Not him.  He came here to offer to be my teacher – just like you suggested!”

“About time!”  Dorothy laughed. “Time he did something useful around here.”

“Well,  I’ll admit that I was a little mad at him.  Not offering to help me.”  Emily said, but absently.  Eyeing up the jackets that Dorothy had given her.  “These are really lovely ma’am.  Real satin – and in beautiful condition.  Aren’t they sir?” she asked me, handing a jacket to me.

I took it.  It was a brightly patterned, heavy satin, smock type of thing.  “Lovely.”  I said, trying to pass it back to her.  “You’ll look like a real professional wearing that.”

 

“Oh.  I wasn’t so much meaning ME,” she smiled. “But if you’re going to be teaching me – couldn’t I wear this one – and you wear the one in your hand?  We’ll look proper then, you and me.  Like teacher and pupil.”

“Ha ha!  I couldn’t . .”

She was putting the other on as I started. “Why not?  Put it on – please?”

Her voice wasn’t leaving much doubt as to what I was supposed to do. Her words were pleasant and requesting, but her tone left me in no doubt.  Then Dorothy grinned.

“Here darling.  Let me help you?” she said.

 

Seconds later, red faced and blushing, I had been buttoned in and stood beside Emily in front of the full length mirror.

“You two look smashing!” Dorothy laughed. “If I didn’t know better?  I’d swear you were sisters!”

“We’re not!”  Emily said.  “But we’re friends – NOW!”  Then – in front of my wife! – she patted me on the rump.  “We’ll get together tomorrow night.  I’ll make sure I have needles and stuff for you.”

“Don’t worry about a little thing like that,”  Dorothy laughed.  “Never use it myself – but I have tons of sewing stuff left to me by my mother.”  Then she turned to me.  “If you’re done here?  Why don’t you escort me back to my room?”

 

Glad to get away from my embarrassment I nodded ’sure’ and started to take the smock off.  Dorothy laid a hand on my arm.  “Why don’t you just keep it on dear? You look nice in it – and actually?  It’s very appropriate for what I want to tell you?”

“Tell me?”

“Later.  In private.”

I was embarrassed and bemused – what could she possibly want to talk to me about. But we said goodbye to Emily and walked back – not to her bedroom, but into the adjoining one – mine.  “Why don’t you sit down on the bed dear.”  She suggested.

 

I felt silly, sitting there in my floral satin smock. “I was going to take this off,” I said, touching the fabric lightly.

“Don’t.  Not for a moment.”  She said.  Then.  “Haven’t you wondered why I haven’t been through here to see you at night recently?”

I swallowed.  “Well Dorothy.  I knew you were busy and. .”

“You ever wondered why we got married in the first place?”  She interrupted.  “A girl like me that didn’t like sex – and a man like you – with major questions about his gender?”

 

“I didn’t know there were any questions about my gender?” I said stiffly.

She barked out a laugh.  “Scared of women?  Never date?  Live with a mummy who tells stories about you being frightened out of your wits by girl cousins?”

“I can’t help  - -” I started, when she sat beside me on the bed and put an arm around me.

 

“I’m not laughing at you Dennis. I have my own hang ups – just like you.  A man raped me when I was young.  I was at therapists and psychiatrists – the whole bit – but I disliked men intensely from then on.  There was a fair sized trust I’d get if I was married  and stayed that way – but I wasn’t about to get married – no way!  Our mothers were old school buddies and got together. It was THEM that pushed us into it dear.  But now, I want to know if you want a divorce.”

 

“A WHAT?” I asked, horrified.  “No.  I do not.  Do you?”

 

She shook her head. “No.  I don’t need to be married any more.  I’m well enough off without the trust. A man – a husband – is okay at times – but to be honest dear? I’ve been wondering about you.  Wondering if you want your freedom.  Am I wrong?  Do you like Emily?”

I blinked.  “Emily?  In that way? Absolutely not!”

She exhaled.  “I’m glad to se that dear.  It’s just that you’re acting a little strange around her recently, and I wondered if you wanted her.  Now I’m glad to see you don’t fancy her.  You see, I think she likes men.”

“I’m a  . .”  I started.

“Probably.”  She interrupted. “But when I saw what an easy job she had putting you into that sewing smock tonight – I sort of wondered?”

“Wondered?”

 

She paused. “Dear?  Even with me, you couldn’t initiate sex.  I often used to wonder if your three cousins had made you like a woman in bed – receptive, not aggressive at all.  It was absolutely fine by me, but I wondered.”

“I   - – I – - Don’t know.”  I said honestly.

She kissed me on the cheek. “Well I’m glad we had this little talk and, if it’s anything to you? I think you look cute in your smock.  I’m not kidding. If I was one of your tomboy cousins? I might want to see you looking pretty?”  Then she laughed.  “Don’t blush dear!  It actually makes you look MORE feminine!”  Then she kissed me good night.

Mortified, I took the smock off.

 

Te following night I blushed again when Emily led me into the lounge where Hortense was already sitting I think that Emily wanted to make an entrance – and she did – making me take her arm, so that the two of us, in our brightly colored satin smocks entered the room together.  Normally, Hortense was fairly nonchalant, but even she whistled when she saw us.  Naturally, nothing would satisfy Emily, but that the two of us went over to Hortense and had her exclaim how lovely our smocks were.  Her eyes met mine as she fingered the satin of my smock, but all she said was how lovely it was.

 

Then, another diminishment in any male status I had.  One that I’d never even considered.

 

I’d noticed how much Emily had made herself up.  She was more feminine than usual was all I’d thought.  But now? Here she is, in her lovely smock, leaning into me – as I sit in my very own satin smock – telling a young lady how to do feminine things – like crochet.  She thanks me most prettily – but do you think that I’m not aware of how those two effeminate creatures sitting whispering together look to Hortsense?  Of COURSE I blush prettily when I feel her eyes on us, and feel her acceptance of what I’m becoming.

 

But that old story about the boy with his finger in the dyke?  I didn’t realize it, but my finger against the rising tide of womanliness that seemed to be engulfing the other side?  I was becoming absolutely worthless.  Even didn’t see the spiral I was on, spinning idiotically against the tide – not that I struggled that much.  Things just happened – know what I mean? I was just settling down – slowly perhaps – but settling into a sea of effeminacy.

 

Dorothy thought that Hortense’s idea of a get-together at night was a wonderful idea. About four days later, she finished her extensive work and started to join us. Not every night, mind you, but most nights she was there.  Naturally, by that time I had become used to my smock and being Emily’s mentor in feminine things so that by the time that Dorothy joined us, I was just that little bit more used to my changing position in the house.  More and more accepting of it being MY job to fetch and carry things for the other ladies.  I didn’t quite understand Dorothy’s look when she wanted a drink one night and was going to get it herself, when Emily looked up.

“Don’t exert yourself ma’am. Dennis will get it for you. Won’t you Dennis?”

 

It shows how much I was accepting what happened to me when I wondered at the half smile that Dorothy gave me when I brought her drink in – on a tray, with a doily – naturally.  After that she had no problem in asking me to do things for her.

 

Then one night she brought in her latest start for a book.  “I wondered if you three wouldn’t mind reading it for me.  I’d like to see how it sounds.  I’ve a couple of new characters and want to try them out.”

 

Naturally, we agreed.  I was given the role of Sir Alex Reid and Hortense was Rowena – the lusty, bawdy, heroine.  We read for a little while then Dorothy said there was something wrong.  Tried Emily out for Rowena, but she was patently not interested – it interfered with her crochet, so she was dropped to minor parts.

Innocently, Dorothy suggested then that I should try out for Rowena – my voice wasn’t too bad.  Then as she had a low voice, Hortense would read the part of Sir Alex. 

 

I had to admit that it was much better, although I did get embarrassed when I’d have to describe things that I done that were NOT ladylike at all – and through some nights, it was not unusual for me to be addressed – jokingly of course – as Rowena.

 

Then it happened. Totally stupid, but that’s the way it was.  All four of us were together one evening.  Hortense and I had been reading Dorothy’s new novel, which may explain my part in the mistake, but Dorothy wanted to look at something, so we had halted. Hortense was looking through a magazine and Emily was engrossed in her crochet. I was looking to see what TV programs would be on.  Still poring over her crochet, Emily spoke without thinking.

“Rowena dear?”

“Yes Emily?” (I guess I was still caught up in my part)

“I’ve been meaning to ask you if you would make my tea a little stronger when you wake me in the morning. I’ve been meaning to bring this up for a week now.  Keep forgetting.”

“Me too!”  Hortense said absently. “Have you changed brands of tea or what?  It’s decidedly weaker.”

“No.  It’s the same stuff . .”

 

“What’s all this about then?” Dorothy interrupted and looking up from her work.  “You Rowena making early morning tea and wakening Emily and Hortsense?  Sorry – I mean Dennis of course.”

 

All of a sudden it dawned on me what had been said.  I licked my lips and stared at Dorothy like a deer caught in the headlights.  “Eh . . Eh . .”

Emily too, knew of our social gaffe but was able to speak up. “Remember you wanted him to be friends with me ma’am?  He felt it was a sign of friendship to do that.”

“But that was a WHILE ago!”  Dorothy expostulated.  “He’s been doing it since then?”

“Yes ma’am.” Emily admitted.

“My husband . .” Dorothy started.  Then her gaze went to Hortense. “He does you in the morning as well?”  Her disbelief was obvious.

 

Hortense was embarrassed.  “Well.  It seemed – seems – -”  She halted red faced.

“Proper for him?”  Dorothy asked with the sarcasm not too well hidden.

“Yes . . well . . kinda.”  Hortense said with an apologetic look in my direction.

“Well doesn’t that beg the question?” Dorothy asked me.

“Question?” I mumbled.

“Yes.  Why am I being left out?  Don’t I deserve some loving attention from my husband?”

“I didn’t think you’d want me . .” I started lamely.

“But now I DO! Would you like to bring me in my morning coffee? Plump up my pillows?  Run my bath?”  She pretended to simper. “Be my new little Emily? Or – even better yet?  My brand new Rowena?”  She was cooing at me now. “You wouldn’t mind showing me that affection – SOME affection?  Would you?”

“No dear.”

She smiled. “Very well then.  You can come in with Emily tomorrow and she can show you what to do.”  She held out the scripts.  “Now ROWENA? Think you can get back to reading?”

 

Flushed and embarrassed, I tried my best. “Yes of course dear.  Now, where were we?”

Then as Dorothy handed Hortense her script, she added sweetly. 

“I don’t suppose that there’s any other household duty that my husband does – to prove his friendship – huh?”  Then the look of total disbelief on her face. She’d obviously meant to ask a rhetorical question.  Now Hortense and Emily were looking at her guiltily – then at me.

Hortense spoke in a very small voice. “He does our laundry and ironing.”

Dorothy’s eyed widened, but then she controlled herself.  “That’s it then?  He doesn’t run you up little dresses in his spare time?  Do your hair?  Your nails?”

“No ma’am”  all three of us spoke at the same time.

“Well  that’s nice to know!  Mmmmm!” was all she said.  “Let’s read.”

 

The following morning was just like normal.  I took the tea into Emily and Hortense.  Nodded when Emily told me to show up in the kitchen about nine o’clock to take Dorothy’s coffee in to her.  I nodded, still embarrassed.

 

But I was even more so when I turned up in the kitchen a few minutes early. Emily showed me how to make the coffee for Dorothy – and how to lay it out on the tray.  She looked at the clock  “Okay.  Better get you ready I suppose.”

I looked at myself.  No stains or disorder that I could see.  “Huh?  I’m ready, I think.”  I said.

“Silly!” She smiled.  “You can’t be taking in the Mistresses coffee like that!”

“Eh?”

“You’ll need your apron and cap on.”  She was matter of fact and certainly not being funny.

“You want me to wear an apron . .”

“And a cap!” She interrupted.

“In front of my wife?”

 

Emily looked at me.  There was a touch of sympathy in her eyes now. “You say that she’s your wife.  That may be true most of the time. But is she asking you to behave like her husband here? Be honest now!”

“Well.  I don’t suppose . .”

“So if you’re not her husband? What do you suppose you’re acting like?”

“But Emily?  I . .”

“If I have to wear an apron and cap, I see no reason why you shouldn’t. Now are we going to quarrel about this Rowena?”

 

Hortense hid her mouth when we passed her in the hall.  If she was smiling, she hid it very well, except for her hand being where it was. I suppose she wasn’t used to seeing me in my frilly lace serving apron and the matching lace cap I had pinned to my hair.  I was carrying the tray with Dorothy’s coffee and trailing behind Emily.

 

At her knock, Dorothy bade us enter and we did.  Emily showed me where to put the tray and then, as Dorothy sat up, I was shown how to arrange the pillows behind her.  She smiled as she saw my apron and cap. “Aren’t you ashamed?” she asked mildly.

Blushing, I fingered the apron. “All this dear?  It’s Emily’s idea! I tried to tell her . .”

“What are you talking about?” she interrupted.

“The apron and  . .”

“You look NICE in them dear!  I was just supposing that you were embarrassed for not letting me see you dressed properly before!”

“Oh.”

“I suppose you’re going to tell me that you don’t wear a nice apron when you do the laundry or ironing?”

 

I looked at her helplessly.

“He doesn’t ma’am.  But I’ll take care of that – if that is your wish?” Emily said, bringing over the tray stand and placing it on the bed. “There.  Like that Rowena!” she said.

“Yes Emily. Have some nice aprons looked out for Denn – I mean Rowena.”  Dorothy said.  She looked at me.  “Rowena seems to be your name now dear?  I’ll admit that it seems a little feminine.  But you don’t mind, do you?”

 

I was starting to say something – anything, but Emily broke in. “No ma’am.  Rowena doesn’t mind. Come along dear.”  She said to me.  “I’ll show you how to collect the tray properly afterwards.”

“But I . .”

“ROWENA?” Emily said – no nonsense.

“Yes Emily,” I said obediently.

“Let’s GO!” She said, curtseying towards Dorothy.  Then she looked POINTEDLY at me! as she said “Thank you ma’am.” to Dorothy.

So help me!  I took the sides of my apron in my hands.  Dorothy looked on me kindly as I did an inept curtsey then dismissed us.

 

I was still in shock, and Emily did nothing to help me once we were outside.

“What you trying to do?  Embarrass me?”  She was quite belligerent.  “Couldn’t you have at least lied? Told her that you wear nice aprons to do stuff around the house?”

“Huh?”

“Now she thinks I’m some sort of lenient idiot!  Can’t dress my maid’s right!”

“But I’m NOT a maid!” I tried to explain.

 

She stopped and looked at me.  Shrugged.  “Maybe not.  But listen UP Rowena!  From today on, you’ll have some nice aprons and caps to wear. The mistress has made it very clear what she wants. Up to me to see that she gets it!  God HELP you, if I ever see you dressed improperly when you’re doing maid work. So HELP me!  I’m ashamed!  And that curtsey you dropped the mistress?  I HATE to think what she thought of me!”

“But Emily?  Please?  I’m NOT a maid!  Doesn’t anyone . .”

“When you are doing as me or Hortense tell you? You can act in a fairly decent manner.  When you are doing stuff for the Mistress? You are a bloody maid and will act accordingly!  She’s made it very clear that when you are doing the laundry or ironing?  That is EXACTLY what you are! A bloody MAID and you’ll wear the aprons to prove it!  Now stop your bitching!”  She paused and got red in the face.  “Want me to put you over my knees?”

I could tell that she was really upset.  “No Emily.”

“Well.  Come along then.”

 

Meekly, I took another flimsy lace apron and cap from her – then two more long, full length aprons – again with matching caps. I tried to explain to her that when I did the laundry, the chance of Dorothy seeing me was practically nil – but she just glared at me, so I stumbled to a halt.

 

It’s like anything else I guess.  Something that embarrasses the hell out of you the first few times you do it gradually becomes commonplace and even though you’re ashamed – it gradually becomes acceptable.  Let’s face it.  Taking morning tea into Hortense in my lace apron – particularly the cap – was very humiliating at first – but I got used to it.  Same thing when she’d come across me getting ready to do the laundry – with me now resplendent in my long apron?  But looking back?  It was just another indication of my growing femininity – just as my name had become Rowena all of the time.  Taking coffee into your own wife was it’s own kind of hell, but after a while you even get used to taking instructions – even curtseying becomes just something you do.

 

My remaining masculine traits were disappearing a little at a time and so imperceptibly that I was becoming more and more ‘in’ with my wife, Hortense, and Emily. So it wasn’t unusual when one night when Dorothy saw Hortense bring lingerie sewing repairs to our get-together – ‘That why on earth don’t you ask Rowena?  He’s wonderful – if his mother told me correctly’ – at sewing?”  Dorothy said.

And I couldn’t refuse – could I?

Another nail in the coffin.

 

Then I couldn’t very well do fine sewing jobs on lingerie with rough hands or nails – could I?  That required nightly applications of creams – and Emily giving my nails a manicure.  Of course they ended up being rounded and feminine – she didn’t know how to do them any differently – did she?  The fact that the polish had just a tinge of pink?  Then discovery that we’d run out of polish remover?  By the time to get that had passed (a few days) I was so used to it that it didn’t seem worthwhile to change it. The ladies convinced me that it was almost impossible to see the pink.

Another nail.

 

I keep my hair fairly long and Emily had trimmed it mostly, then I went to the barber in town when I needed it cut.  That night when the four of us were in the room, I said that I’d probably go to the barber the following day.

“What for?”  Dorothy asked.  “I thought Emily usually did your hair?”

Well, she does, normally.”  I said. Laughed. “But it IS getting kinda long and I want it cut.”

“Oh dear!”  Dorothy said. “And I was going to ask a favor of you this weekend.”

 

I shook my head from side to side.  “You lost me.  What does the length of my hair have to do with your favor?”

She sighed.  “Well, this is kinda awkward. But we have three of my fan clubs coming this weekend.  All at the one time.”  She paused.

“And?” I said.

“Well?  I mentioned to Hortense and Emily that  . . well . .it might be a good idea to get you out of the house while they were here – they DO like to tour around you know – and I was scared they might meet you.  Not only that, they’re forecasting possible rain, so I can’t very well ask you to go outside while they’re here.”

“I still don’t get it.”  I said.  “I know that I don’t particularly care about meeting with your fan clubs – but I’m not some kind of monster you know. Why should I hide outside?”

 

“Well, anyway.  I mentioned this to Emily – and she saw my point.  But then she commented that it would probably be a large group – and she could use a hand to wait on the ladies.”  She looked at me, then seeing I hadn’t a clue, added. “Look dear!  I don’t wish to hurt your feelings, but I write Historical Romances.  My men are all tall and broad and very commanding.  That’s what my ladies in my fan clubs expect!”

“But?” I asked.  “I don’t . .”

“Oh Rowena!”  Hortense broke in.  “She doesn’t want to hurt you – but you’re not very masculine those days!”

 

“Oh!”  I blushed.  “Well I could take off the nail polish and . .”

“Rowena?”  Hortense added. “I don’t know if it’s the nice smocks you wear at night – or your aprons during the day?  But your walk is . . is . . has “  She blushed.  “Become rather girlish.  Pink nail polish is about the least of your problems!”

I blushed even more.  “I suppose I could get out of the house?”

“No dear.”  It was Emily’s turn now.  “You can give me a hand to serve the ladies.”

“But I don’t understand?” I said again.

 

“Come along dear and I’ll explain.” Emily said.

“But I’d like to understand . .”

“Rowena!  Go along with Emily!”  Dorothy said. “You can argue when you come back.”  She was staring at me in a way that made me very uncomfortable.

“Okay.”  I said.  “I suppose I could . .”

“Come along then,”  Emily said standing up and putting her crocheting together.

 

It was a good two hours when Emily and I knocked on Dorothy’s bedroom door and we entered on the “Come in”

“I hope you don’t mind, Mistress, but Rowena wanted to talk to you.  I was pretty sure you’d still be up and probably wanted to see him.  So I brought him.”

 

Dorothy smiled.  “You did perfectly well Emily.”  She turned to me.  “You had something you wanted to say dear?”

“Dear?  I feel ridiculous!” I said, but weakly.

“Most women feel ridiculous with their hair up in rollers dear.  D’you think you should feel different?”

“But I’m a man Dorothy! And I’m pretty sure Emily’s given me a woman’s hairdo – all curls and waves!”

 

She smiled tenderly. “Of course she has silly!  Don’t you think you’d look silly serving up canapés and high tea to my fan club looking anything like a man?”

“Serving?”

“Naturally!  I was stupid enough to want to get rid of you while my ladies were here – couldn’t let them see the effeminate creature you’ve become and I’m married to, could I?  But Emily opened my eyes.  She needs a girl to help her – and who do you think is the best candidate?”

She wasn’t pulling any punches now, but I felt that I had to try.  “Dorothy?  Please don’t!  I’m not really that effeminate!”

 

My wife actually giggled!  She’s a serious woman normally and the only time I’d seen her behave like that was if she’d had too much to drink – which wasn’t common at all. But she giggled for quite a few seconds before speaking again.

“Dear?” She said patiently.  You’re standing there, in front of me because the maid – the maid -gave you permission to do so.  You’re hair is all curled up in hot pink rollers – in what is definitely a girl style, and wrapped in a pink chiffon scarf.   If I looked at your fingernails, I’d probably see that they matched your scarf.”  She took a breath.  ” You have on a pretty satin smock – a girl’s one by the way – and more and more we call you Rowena . . .”

“But it’s not what I really . .”

 

“Rowena?  Please don’t interrupt!  Now Emily is going to alter some of her dresses for you and we’ll scrounge up the necessary petticoats, bras, panties and stockings.  She’ll brush out your hair and you’ll help her to serve at my fan luncheon.  Now are you going to complain?  Force Emily to do what needs to be done – or are you going to behave?”

“Behave?” I was docile now.

“THAT’S a good girl!  Now tomorrow morning?  Just report to Emily in your robe and pajamas.  She’ll get you ready for the day.”

I shook my head slowly.  “I don’t understand dear?  Your fan club doesn’t come until Saturday.”

 

It was her turn to shake her head.  “You just called me ‘dear’.  Now that isn’t proper behavior for a maid to her mistress, is it?”

“No.  I’m sorry.”

“Understandable dear.  But starting tomorrow morning you’ll be dressed as a maid – and act like one. We don’t have a lot of time to train you properly – but you will try.  Won’t you?”

“Yes Dorothy,” I said meekly.

“May as well start now!” Emily said briskly to me. “She’s your mistress!  Now curtsey and say  ‘yes’ properly!”

And, in front of the maid, I curtsied my wife and called her “Mistress”. 

She smiled gently at Emily.  “I don’t think you’ll have much trouble at all.”

“Don’t see why I should.”  Emily said matter of factly.  “Come along Rowena.  You’ll have a long day tomorrow.  Time for bed!”

 

Sleeping with unaccustomed rollers in your hair is not the most comfortable thing, but I managed. Emily made some ‘tutting’ noises when I reported to her the following morning, but she explained that she wasn’t making disapproving noises at me – she was just upset a little that some of the rollers had loosened.

“Never mind.”  She said to me as she brushed my hair out. “With me to teach you, you’ll be rolling up your own hair pretty quickly.”

I didn’t point out that this was just for a short term thing.  After all, we didn’t have Dorothy’s fan clubs coming THAT often.

 

But Emily was taken by the overall impression of the hair and even I was surprised. Let’s face it, I’d never had a masculine set of features to begin with, but the gently waving hair coming down the side of my face seemed to bring out the latent effeminacy even more.

“Just wait until we get a little makeup on you!” She said, pleased. “But let’s get you dressed first. “I had some nice uniform dresses that didn’t fit me too well. Should look nice.” She took me by the shoulders. “Now?  You’re not going to give me any trouble with your lingerie – are you?”

She nodded approvingly as I shyly said “No.”

 

It sounds silly, but I noticed a tremendous difference between the way that Dorothy, Hortense, and Emily treated me that day – compared to my cousins. Instead of being mocked, called a sissy – or a pansy – or a pantywaist?  I was told how pretty I was and how nicely I moved inside my satin uniform.  Alright, it took me a little while to realize that I may have considered myself a male – but it was becoming difficult to tell that I was one.  Certainly didn’t LOOK that way.

 

The embarrassment and humiliation of taking in Hortense and my mistress in their morning tea or coffee was, in great part, ameliorated by their calm inspection of me – then the complimentary remarks. Dorothy even kissed me gently on the cheek and thanked me for being so cooperative.

 

And. as the morning wore on, I actually found that I liked – no, enjoyed – what I was doing!  Consider that although I was probably sissified to a great extent during my bringing up, I was always criticized.  This continued somewhat into my adult life. Maybe the criticism wasn’t there exactly, but it was always as if I was out of step – not quite right with those around me – regardless of sex?  Now suddenly, I could feel the lightness in my step, feel the sway of my dress and petticoats when I moved.  Even enjoy the strange feeling of the slip and bra straps that held my false breasts in place.  Started to view the maid I was seeing in the full length mirrors.  Realized that it wasn’t a new thought.  Knew I wasn’t pretty – but wondered what Emily would suggest to help. Reluctantly shooed those thoughts away.  Reminded myself that what I was being asked to do was strictly a passing thing – just for the day!

 

I was allowed to take my cap and apron off that night, but like Emily did on occasion, I wore my uniform dress under my smock.  Was delighted when nobody made any slighting comment – in fact the other women all commented what wonderful progress I’d made.  Emily also wanted me down at her bedroom early – she would help deliver the mistresses and Hortense’s early tea’s as she and I had a lot to do in preparation for the fan clubs coming.  Again. She and I left early so that she could roll my hair.  With it being unused to this type of care, it tended to go back to it’s original state.

 

*     *     *

 

The forecast was correct.  It was raining.  Started early in the day and the leaden skies promised it wouldn’t let up for hours.  This meant that the ladies from the club would not be dispersed around the garden as we had hoped but would instead be concentrated inside the house.  Normally this wouldn’t really be a problem, but I was concerned about slipping up and I know that the other ladies in the household were too.

 

But I was secretly excited.  Nervous – but I could see that it would have to be a very close examination that would reveal my true gender and, let’s face it?  I was simply a maid – so who was going to check?  Dorothy’s fan club were here to see HER.  Nobody else counted – least of all a maid.

 

All four of us gathered after breakfast. Dorothy, naturally, would be the chief attraction but reserved the ‘right’ to disappear into her own office for a rest. Hortense was basically in charge of the guest tour –while Emily and myself were to keep them well supplied with glasses of wine, hors d’oevres and various munchies .  We also had to make sure that the bathrooms were kept clean – and that no single stragglers were allowed to be in a room by themselves – little knick knacks have a habit of disappearing – the fans think that anything like that is MARVELLOUS!  It’s not stealing of course, but Emily and I made sure that the small, expensive, items were out of harms way as much as possible before our guests arrived.

 

The fan clubs had hired a large bus for the ladies and, just in case, Emily and I stood by the door with large umbrellas to escort them in. As we stood in the hallway, Emily and I side by side, and Hortense in a welcoming mode in the center of the hall, we heard the bus pull in to the gravel driveway.

“Here we go girls!”  Hortense said and Emily and I took the last few seconds we were going to have for the next few hours to check that our makeup and caps were okay.

 

Despite the weather, the day went off marvelously.  Emily and myself had coats and a few umbrellas to check before we started doing any serving, but while we were doing this and setting up the trays properly, Dorothy came and welcomed the fans.  As her adoring audience tittered with excitement at meeting the great lady, Emily and I began dispersing the wine and canapés.  All of our guests were women of course and had already had lunch – but you’d never have known it. We were kept BUSY!

 

Nobody paid the slightest attention to me, except for the occasional ‘thank-you’, but I certainly didn’t mind.  Even saw Emily grin at me one time as I flounced my skirts a little – just for the fun of it.  Hortense  - or should I say ‘Miss Hortense’ had her joke. At a lull, she sidled up to me.  “Rowena?  Your slip is showing disgracefully!”

I think I paled in mortification. “I’m SO sorry Miss Hortense!  I’ll . .” I whispered.

She grinned and whispered and actually patted me on the rump!  And I was THRILLED as she spoke!

 “Oh Rowena!  I’m only teasing!  You and Emily are doing wonderful jobs!  I know that Dorothy is VERY pleased!  I am too – for what it’s worth!”

I blushed.

 

Because the fan club couldn’t be shepherded out into the wet gardens, Dorothy gave them a big thrill.  She produced a recent write up she’d done – and let Hortense, Emily, and I read our usual parts.  It doesn’t mean much now. But dressed and looking like a girl, I now played Rowena.  Thrilled me out of my mind to play the woman in front of such a receptive audience.  It wasn’t long after that, when we escorted them back onto the bus and watched them depart.

“Girls?”  Dorothy said. “It’s been a wonderful day. Let’s all get stuck into getting this place tidied up.  Maybe some defrosted pizza and wine for dinner.  Everybody pitch in!”

 

We were all tired by the time we said goodnight.  None of the women said much, but I was a very confused boy – girl – when they all kissed and thanked me genuinely before we broke up for bed.  To tell the truth, when I got into my bedroom I didn’t really want to change.  Laugh all you want, but I couldn’t help but admire my looks.  Then a knock came to the door that adjoins Dorothy’s and my rooms.

“You decent?” She called out.

“Yes.  Come in,” I answered a little embarrassed at not having changed yet.  Dorothy came in.  Didn’t close the door behind her. “I think we need to talk seriously.”  She said.  “Okay?”

 

“Is it bad?” I asked nervously.

“No.  I don’t think so.  But can I ask you what you do for sex these days?”

I blushed.  “Have it with you dear.”

“Nobody else?”

“No.”

“I’d hoped that you and Emily would get together – but I’m afraid that she likes masculine men.”

“I’m not that, am I?”    I asked with some humor.

She smiled sympathetically. “No.  I assume that you masturbate?”

A gulp and a deepening blush was my only answer.

She nodded.  “Thought so.  And I don’t mean to embarrass you.”  She stood up.  “But dress down to your panties and bra.  I’ll be back in a second.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.  Please Rowena?  Just for me?  Indulge me.  Okay?”  With that she went back into her room again.

 

All I had on when she came back was a full length slip, a bra and panties.  She handed me a yellow chiffon nightdress.  “Here.  Shy about me seeing you in your bra and panties?  That’s all right.  I’ll close my eyes while you take the slip off and put the gown on.  Okay?”

“I don’t understand Dorothy?” I asked.

“I’ll explain after you’ve done what I asked, then put the negligee on.  Okay? Just be careful you don’t get makeup on your gown.”

 

A few seconds later, she was tying the fine cord at the closure for my peignoir. “You know Rowena?”  She said thoughtfully.  “You’ll make a nice looking girl. I’ve thought for a while that you’re effeminate, but I have to admit that the female role fits you like a glove. I don’t think that one of our guests today ever figured out that you were anything other than a  maid.”

 

She was speaking conversationally and although I knew that the gown and robe felt wonderful, I was still lost.  “You said you’d explain Dorothy?”

“Well cream off that makeup.  Okay?” She said.

I sighed patiently but sat at the dressing table and started to use cream and tissues to wipe my makeup off.  I could see her reflection in a mirror.

“I tried to tell you Rowena.  But truthfully?  Once I was raped, I never enjoyed sex again. I did it with you as little as possible – but it was simply that I felt bad at not being a proper wife.”

“It wasn’t that . .”  I started.

I saw her reflection hold up a hand.  “Please don’t interrupt dear.”  She paused then restarted.  “Then I started writing and that, truthfully, sublimated even more of my sex drive, so there was even less for you.”

“You want a divorce?” I asked.

 

She looked amazed.  “Heaven’s NO! Gender wise you really aren’t much of a husband – but that’s fine by me.  On top of that, if I’m married – I avoid a bunch of men who might want to marry me – and I don’t want to explain.  But let me ask you this – and please be honest with me now!  Do you enjoy being treated and dressing like a girl? Be honest now!”

“I don’t know.” I said.

“Stand up and face me.” She said quietly.

I did.

“Now twirl, and fluff out your gown and peignoir.”

“Huh?”

“Please do it.  As extravagantly as you can.  Please?”

 

In front of my wife, I twirled around, then used both hands to fluff out me nightwear.  “So?”  I asked, embarrassed.

She smiled and asked. “Did you enjoy what you just did?”

I looked down at the carpet.  “Yes.”  I admitted.

“If you’re finished taking off your makeup.  Sit down on the dresser bench and face me.”

“I’m finished.  But why?” I asked.

“Because I think I can put on makeup better than you – and I just want a little – lipstick, eye shadow and blush.  A touch of perfume?” She said, picking up the eye shadow.

 

“But I’m going to bed?” I protested.

“Of course you are. But I want you to look nice.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Don’t worry about it.  Just sit still.”

 

She allowed me to look at my face in the mirror when she had finished.  I was still blushing a little, but had to admit that she had done a nice job.

“Come along then Rowena,” she said, taking my arm.

“But you said that Emily liked men!” I said.

“Yes dear. It’s Hortense I’m taking you to see. I think she likes you.”

I felt my eyes go big. “Me?  Like I am?”

“Yes.  I could be wrong.  But I know that Hortense does NOT like hairy, masculine men. I think she went through some sexual problems like I did – and I think you appeal to her – just the way you are.”

“She’s never given me the slightest sign!” I exclaimed.

“Well?  I think it’s a woman thing – and you’re not enough of a woman yet.  I really think she doesn’t want to upset me.  So come along dear.  Time we found out.”

 

Hortense was not long in bed when we got there, with me terribly shy and Dorothy almost pulling me inside the room when Hortense, hearing just Dorothy, invited her in. When she saw me, her eyes got round and she sat up in bed, pulling the bedclothes over her breasts.

“Why on earth is Rowena dressed like that?” She exclaimed then blushed. “Not that she – he – isn’t very pretty.”  Then she looked confused.  “I’m sorry I was trying . .”

“It IS a pretty gown, isn’t it Hortense? It was an old one of mine that I’d never used.   Rowena? Go over to Hortense and let her feel the material!”

“Oh Dorothy!  She doesn’t. .”

“Rowena!  Please?”

 

Blushing nicely, I floated over to the bedside and sort of stood, not knowing what to do.

“Hortense?  Have a feel of Rowena’s gown.  See what you think.” Dorothy was urging, and Hortense’s arm snaked out from under the clothes and touched my chiffon peignoir. As if burnt, the hand retreated quickly.

“Very nice!” Hortense said.

“Silly!”  Dorothy laughed. “Take a proper feel.  Go on!”

This time, Hortense slid her hand out and slowly took a hold of my negligee.  Her eyes met, and held mine.

“That’s lovely,” she said slowly. “I had a prom dress felt just like that when I was at school.  Loved it.  The color is lovely too. Suits you nicely.”

 

“That’s better!” Dorothy said approvingly.  Now scoot over in the bed Hortense!”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.  Now do as I ask!” Dorothy was nice but firm.

“I don’t understand?”  Hortense said, but she was smiling up at me and moving over.

“Of course you DO!”  Dorothy laughed.  “Now Rowena?  Get into bed beside her.  Go on.”

Hortense, still smiling, but seemingly puzzled, held the bedclothes open for me.

“Should I take my peignoir off Dorothy?” I asked.

“Depends.  Hortense may want to take it off you herself. But let me explain what’s going on to her.”  Dorothy said quietly.

 

“But I don’t want to steal your husband.”  Hortense said, although her arm around my shoulders told me differently.

“You’re not.  I’m giving him to you if you want him.”  Dorothy said. “I just want your promise that you’ll be good to him.”

“Of course.  But can I spank him if he’s naughty?” Hortense giggled and I wiggled happily beside her.

“Silly!”  Dorothy laughed. “Anything you see as being necessary. But should I leave and let you two get acquainted?”

She wished us good night as both Hortense and I assured her that leaving might be a very good idea.  Put out the light and closed the door behind her.

 

“I think I’d like to kiss you.  Would that be okay?” Hortense asked, her hand untying my peignoir.

“I think I’d like that,” I whispered, raising my lips to hers.

And she did. Then she did it again.  Slower this time.  Then she did it again – even slower.  I was undulating up against her, my hands softly caressing her breasts – when Dorothy’s voice came.

“Oh! I forgot something!  May I come in?” She didn’t wait for a reply, came in and turned on the light again.

 

She smiled at my peignoir thrown untidily over the foot of the bed and my hair now tousled and my lipstick messed up.

“Meant to mention this to you two. My New York publishers want me out there to work out a deal for a general publishing tour.  I’d like you to go Hortense – you have a MUCH better head for that sort of stuff than I do.”

“Me?” Hortense said, and I was so glad that the dismay in her voice matched the feeling in my heart.  “How long for, Dorothy?” She added.

“Of course you!  Who else?”  Dorothy said.  “I spoke to the publisher and they’ve got a lovely brownstone house all looked out for you.  Not big.  Just two or three bedrooms and I understand it has a lovely kitchen.”

“A HOUSE? What on earth do I need a house for?” Hortense asked, a note of indignation starting to creep into her voice.

 

“I thought you’d enjoy coming home to a welcome – and a cooked meal.  Someone to brush your hair when you’re tired.  Look after your baths, your clothes.  That sort of thing.  Much better than some old hotel.”

“But I . .”  Hortense started to say, then laughed joyously. “You don’t mean Emily I guess?”

Dorothy laughed.  “Silly!  Emily’s MY maid!”

The end

 

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