VIII. A Spanking
When Jean-Marie (or Gloria, as he now always was called by his aunt and his maid
Suzanne since they had tricked him into wearing girl's clothes) woke up after a
refreshing sleep, he let the last two days pass in review: How he had come to
Berlin to meet his aunt and guardian and how she had made him wear girl's
clothes and cunningly but gently pushed him into subjection. He tried to
analyze his feelings about what had happened to him. He knew of course it was
utterly wrong for a boy to be dressed as a girl. Boys just did not do this...
period. Everything he had learned during the seventeen years of his upbringing
said it was wrong, terribly wrong and that he had to fight it and oppose it.
However, deep inside him there was something troubling him. To be dressed as a
girl had caused exciting feelings in him. He still shivered with delight, when
he thought back to how he had looked in his evening gown dressed up for a night
at the opera. And when he remembered how he was completely tied up and gagged in
the afternoon dress last night, he became terribly excited. He remembered dreams
that he had had since his earliest boyhood about being tied up, dreams about
beautiful women forcing him to wear girl's clothes, using him as their toy. He
always had tried to shake off these terrible and unnatural dreams... but they
were thrilling him to his very bones.
He had never ever talked to anybody about these dreams. He would have died of
shame. He was convinced that nobody would understand his feelings anyhow, and he
would be ridiculed by all, so it was best to bury them deep inside and push them
aside whenever they occurred. These dreams were so odd, they must be unique. He
was sure nobody else had these dreams.
Yet that night at the opera and again yesterday he had met a beautiful girl, who
actually was a boy, and who made no secret of this, and the fact that she
enjoyed dressing and living as a girl and preferred it to a masculine existence.
Were there others who had the same or similar feelings? It was quite a
revelation to him that, evidently, there were. Coco had made some remark about
her knowing other boys who liked to dress up.
But anyway, he resolved that this was not for him. He wanted to become an
engineer like his father had been and travel through the world to bring the
wonders of technical progress to its far corners. He wanted to fight the
elements and make them bow to human willpower. That was a task where only a
strong man could succeed. Nobody ever heard of a female railroad engineer laying
tracks through deserts and jungles, for instance. He therefore had to put an end
to the doings and machinations of his aunt and shed the female things she put on
him.
That morning he felt so strong that he was sure that nobody could deter him from
finding some male clothes and doing away with the girlish things they had made
him wear. In spite of his tight corset, which he had to keep on during the
night, and the fact that his arms were held to his side by the elastic loops of
its garters, he climbed out of his bed. The clock on the mantlepiece showed 10
minutes to seven. With his teeth, he tugged at the bell to summon the maid.
Suzanne appeared almost immediately.
"Good morning, Gloria, you are up early. Madame had asked me to wake you at
seven. All the better: we have a few minutes more."
She removed his nightgown, unfastened his wrists from their elastic but
inescapable fetters and proceeded with the morning ritual of perfumed bath,
brushing and curling his hair and dressing him. Strapping him to the lacing bar,
she put a new corset on him that was not as tight as the one last night, it left
him with about half an inch more room. He was really thankful for this little
additional space, although after only about 30 hours in corsets his body seemed
to have adjusted fairly well to the compression of these torture tools.
Suzanne dressed him in a traveling costume of light beige wool with dark brown
velvet applications. His feet were shod in smart beige boots with heels only a
little higher than three inches.
"Madame said breakfast will be served in her rooms at 8:15. We have about half
an hour until then. I shall pack your things now and you can help me select the
things to pack. As you do not have to pack anything yourself, please put your
hands on your back so I can lock them together as Madame had wished."
This is my chance to put my foot down and stop this nonsense, he thought.
"I shall not allow you to tie up my hands. There is no reason to do it, I did
not do anything wrong and I do not have to be punished. It is humiliating enough
having to wear these clothes, but I shall not tolerate being tied up by you."
He looked at her defiantly.
She did not answer him, she just took his right hand in her hands, raised her
arms and slipped through under them, turning herself full circle and passing him
doing it. She ended standing behind him, holding his right arm in a very painful
hammer-lock position. All this happened in less than a second and took him
entirely by surprise. He screeched with pain. He almost doubled over to escape
the pain. She steered him toward the backrest of a large easy chair.
"All right, if you want it the hard way, it's your choice. Pick up your skirt
with your left hand and hold it high up on your back," she commanded.
When he hesitated, she pulled his right arm higher, causing the awful pain to
increase even more. He feared that the slightest further increase of her pull
would dislocate his shoulder, so he gave in and pulled his skirt up. She helped
him and gathered all of it on his back, directing his left hand to hold it
there. From the dressing table nearby she grabbed a hair-brush and started to
spank him hard on his bare behind.
He screeched and howled with pain but she did not relent, she just bent him
deeper over the backrest and buried his face into the thick pillows lying on the
seat, effectively muffling his cries. She spanked him hard until her arm began
to tire and his cries had turned to uncontrolled heavy sobbing. She did not let
him go after she stopped beating him, just released her hold on him a little bit
so he could raise his body. His face was red and wet from his tears, he still
sobbed so hard that his whole body was jerking. It was not just the pain, which
shook him up, it was the total humiliation of being spanked like that by a mere
girl that had shattered his masculine ego.
"Will you now obey me, if I tell you to do something?"
He hastened to nod, wiping his nose and his eyes with his free hand.
"Or do you want a repeat performance?"
He shook his head violently, still unable to speak for his sobbing.
She let go of his arm. "All right then. Here are some handcuffs. Put them on
yourself behind your back."
Still unable to control himself, he took the shining things and fumbled behind
his back until they were closed and locked his hands closely together on his
back. Suzanne checked to see if they were on tight enough and was satisfied only
after she had tightened them a notch or two.
"Now, as Madame had wished, you will wear them at all times when you are not
required to use your hands for something you were asked to do. If I forget
about it, you will remind me. And you will put them on yourself as soon as I ask
you to, understand?"
He nodded with is head hanging down.
"Now let me clean up your face and put on some make-up so people won't see right
away you have been crying."
She made him sit in front of the mirror and started with the cosmetics.
"And by the way, I may as well tell you now, you will hear it from Madame
anyway: Madame has promoted me from your maid to your governess. I have to
instruct you on feminine behavior, ladylike deportment and so on. We shall have
many training sessions every day from now on. And since I am not your maid
anymore, I want you to call me "Mademoiselle" from now on and you will have to
curtsey to me when greeting me or when I give you permission to do something...
exactly as you have to do with Madame."
His spirits were completely broken. Another humiliation, having to accept this
girl as his superior, who could give him orders.
"Madame also told me that she thinks it is unsuitable and sounds childish if you
call her "Aunt". She thinks being called "Aunt" by a big girl like you in front
of strangers makes her appear too old. But just calling her "Margaret" is
entirely inappropriate, since she is your guardian, and you should show the
respect due to her in addressing her. She therefore wants you to address her as
"Madame". I suggest you remember this, lest you start collecting black marks
swiftly."
After this new blow to his ego, he was seriously thinking of fleeing from this
house at once. But what could he do? Fettered as he was, he would not even be
able to reach the door of his room. And dressed as he was... where could he turn
in a strange city with no money? He had to find an opportunity to escape. Maybe
the weekend excursion would present a chance.
