The Bequest                      by: Paula Mortenson

 

The Inheritance

Great Aunt Tessa’s funeral was a tiny affair, only me and a distant female cousin together with the solicitor, a massive grim faced woman, dressed in a black business suit who looked as though a good shave would not go amiss. I had met neither of the females before and it was only after we had walked away from the graveside we found time to introduce ourselves properly. Miss Armitage had arranged the whole service and the invitations, the solicitor and it was she who introduced me to Amanda, my distant cousin. Since my parents had been only children and had left me orphaned as a teenager, I had little idea of my relatives and indeed Aunt Tessa, who had been the archetypical maiden aunt, was the lone distant memory of my childhood relatives. My relationship to Amanda was remote and we were only related by marriage.

Miss Armitage ushered us to a nearby hotel for a discussion about the terms of my Aunt's will. Since I had not managed to get a job after graduating from university the month before in computer sciences and was facing the prospect of taking anything to keep body and soul together, I had a sudden interest in whatever I might have been left. The conversation mainly flowed between Miss Armitage and my cousin after I forgot my manners by uttering a string of expletives when I tripped over a step. I felt very much embarrassed and left out of the conversation as we were finally shown to a table in the hotel restaurant for a welcome meal.

"My Aunt," I enquired, "Was she a wealthy woman?"

The solicitor sniffed at my vulgarity as she ploughed through her vast meal. "Miss Trimble was in business and had also invested wisely. I acted for her for many years and helped her formulate her will. There are sums allocated to charities but the principal bequests are to Amanda and yourself. There are, however, certain conditions regarding those bequests. If you meet those conditions then you will be very comfortable for the rest of your lives."

Things were looking up. The conditions never occurred to me as an obstacle. If she wanted me to live a celibate and alcohol free life, which were I thought likely to be the worst she could impose, then a few years complying to get myself on my feet and then who could dispute my rights? But it seemed there was a business we were required to run, which would provide a considerable income and we were invited to join Miss Armitage in a major town, not far away, the following morning. Since Amanda and I were in the same impecunious state Miss Armitage arranged for us to stay at the hotel for the night and undertook to pick us up the following morning.

Being provided with free food, drink and accommodation in a four star hotel and in the company of a slightly older but attractive young woman, my cousin who was not a blood relative, was an opportunity I could not resist. Much to my surprise, my efforts were rewarded by an invitation to her room where we stayed together all night. Equally surprising, to me, was her enthusiasm and very apparent experience. The manner in which she encouraged me after my initial clumsy and short-lived efforts spurred me to greater exertions, culminating in a mutually pleasing episode before we dressed to go down to breakfast. There was no doubt I was smitten by her though on reflection I was like an enthusiastic puppy dog in comparison with a superior cat that finally got the cream.

Miss Armitage collected us promptly at nine that morning and as she drove us, to the nearby town we discovered the magnitude of our bequest and that her first name was Priscilla. After the superior dismissiveness of the day before her smarmy attitude made me uncomfortable. We were taken to Priscilla’s office for the will to be read in full. The bequests to charity left me worried there was little or nothing left for Amanda and I but as she read on through the list of investments and properties it was apparent, there was more than plenty left. Then I began to worry about the conditions since everything else seemed so perfect. The first problem was I did not inherit anything until I was thirty, another seven years, and the sole trustee was Priscilla, who had absolute discretion whether to let me, or Amanda, have any income in the intervening years. The business appeared to be a shop in the town that specialised in ladies' lingerie.

"There are other instructions Miss Trimble left me, as your trustee, in private letters but the one which immediately affects you, Christopher and Amanda, is that I must encourage you to work in the shop and run it, with advice from me, of course. Tessa made it quite clear I was to ensure you understood the value of money and that it had to be worked for. I understand that neither of you is gainfully employed currently."

"But what can I do, in a ladies' lingerie shop?" I bleated.

"Miss Trimble was very firm on that point, young Christopher, if you are to own the business, you must work in it and.." a smile flitted across her chubby face, "you must know the business from top to bottom, so to speak. You will be the only male on the premises so you will have to dress smartly and tidy yourself up. Miss Trimble had no objection to men wearing their hair long but it has to look clean and tidy." There was a firmness to her tone, in that final phrase suggesting she had very firm ideas on that subject, as well.

We discovered we were to live at Aunt Tessa’s old cottage, tucked away in a pretty village a few miles out of town. Since I could not drive, Amanda was given the keys to a surprisingly expensive sports car we were to share. Miss Armitage came up with funds to enable me to return to my flat at the university, clear my debts and to hire a small removal van to bring all my worldly possessions to the cottage. By the time I arrived back Amanda had already claimed her room and it was with a mischievous smile she showed me mine. It was not tiny, nor in the attic, which surprised me but when I went to bed, on my own, that night and pulled back the bedcovers I realised the decorations and whole room were delicately feminine. I lay tossing and turning in bed thinking about my night with Amanda and how she had made it very clear she would in future decide when she would visit me or invite me to her bed.

I slopped down to the kitchen, the following morning, to find Amanda and Priscilla deep in conversation. There was a pause as though they had been talking about me. I caught Amanda watching for my reaction as Priscilla spoke to me in that smarmy, wheedling tone, again.

"Amanda was telling me you are not happy about working in the shop. Something about you being uncomfortable what others might think. Is this true? Because if it is then that is fine by me but I cannot, in accordance with your aunt’s wishes, allow you any funds until you are absolutely entitled. That is another seven years, you will recall and I cannot let you stay at the cottage. That would be unfair on Amanda and as your aunt’s trustee I have to be fair to both beneficiaries, equally. You do understand, don’t you?"

After my parents had died another lawyer had had the responsibility of eeking out my meagre inheritance and I fully understood their absolute powers and the way even the most straightforward of instructions could be interpreted to suit their view. There was no way of beating her so I shrugged and mumbled I would stay for two months to see how I felt. Having wheedled my reluctant agreement, Miss Armitage changed demeanour back to the sniffy and authoritive lawyer to tell me my sloppy appearance was not acceptable for the shop or home. She had already arranged for me to be attended by a hair stylist that very morning and I should return to my room, shower and dress, as quickly as possible. Her enquiry whether I had anything other than the undergraduate uniform of trainers, tatty jeans and T-shirts drew a shake of my head. Three years at university on a minimum grant with my parent’s inheritance long since spent had left me with little more than I stood up in. What she could not see, but I suspect she guessed was that my underwear was in a similar state.

Amanda’s offer to lend me a tracksuit was accepted but when I finally emerged from my shower, I discovered a dusky pink one plus a pair of her bikini briefs, a matching T-shirt and ankle socks. All my own clothes had disappeared. I stumped downstairs to complain at the invasion to find Amanda, alone. As I opened my mouth to protest, she threw herself at me and proceeded to lock her lips to mine. Within moments all thought of my clothes had been cast aside until she hurriedly disentangled herself as Priscilla reappeared, accompanied by a strikingly beautiful woman in a white starched straight dress. Though the dress dropped unfettered by a belt from her shoulders to mid calf there was little doubt the body underneath was superb and her hair and makeup were straight from a model’s catwalk. She smiled as we were introduced to Bella, our personal hairstylist and beauty consultant. Priscilla explained both Amanda and I were to put ourselves in the hands of Bella who would ensure we were both perfectly turned out to start work in three weeks. Though we were only learning the business, we were also the owners and therefore we had to be impeccable and had to impress the staff and customers. I bit my tongue after deciding that she was only here to cut my hair and the other things were for Amanda.

I was wrong but the experience was not too painful, neither physically nor to my ego after Bella explained she had worked for prominent executives and politicians to improve their public image. While Amanda lay in her bedroom wrapped in what looked like a hypothermic blanket, it was something to do with cleansing the pores; Bella sat quietly with me going through what she could do for me. What man could have resisted her seductive tones as she admired how the dusky pink of Amanda’s tracksuit suited my colouring and so gently covered the `treatments` she would like me to take. They all sounded so beguiling the way she described them and by the weekend my skin had been stripped, as had my eyebrows and body hair ("so unsightly and such a turn off. I know Amanda doesn’t like it, she was saying while I was waxing her bikini line"), my hair had been styled and tinted just a few shades lighter ("Amanda was saying how much better it would be if your hair had highlights in it.") and my nails had been reshaped ("She loves your new hairstyle but thinks you ought to do something about your hands"). After a full week of concentrated effort, Bella only came on alternate days but she insisted we complete an exercise routine and Priscilla ensured we were fully occupied with gardening and housework.

It was all done so insidiously. I had my rewards though. Amanda never left me alone once Bella departed in the evenings and I was constantly complimented on the progress of the day before being invited to her bed. My only concerns were Amanda’s insistence we sit together in front of her dressing table mirror to go through the bedtime cleansing routine Bella had suggested before I was allowed to lay a finger on her, that my clothes never reappeared and the prospect of working in the shop.

 

That first evening I bemoaned my lack of knowledge of women’s underwear and how I was bound to be useless so another routine developed before Amanda granted me her favours. Amanda went to her draws and produced an array of her own underwear, explaining its purpose and sizing. She showed me stockings, suspender belts, tights and her lacy bras. The next evening I was taken into the spare bedroom where a whole range of the shop stock had been laid out for me to examine and understand it’s purpose. Each morning, before Bella arrived I was tested on what I had learned previously. If I got it right, I was rewarded. I soon learned.

As our whole days were occupied by Bella’s ministrations and other tasks, there was never time for me so go into town to acquire clothes and anyway I couldn’t drive so I, at Amanda’s suggestion, borrowed bits out of the shop stock. There were knickers of every type and designer T-shirts and when I baulked at the only T-shirt that fitted me being too outrageously feminine I settled on a roll necked, sleeveless body that Amanda thought I looked great in. I couldn’t keep on wearing her tracksuit, she pointed out, so I found the only thing suitable that fitted me, a pair of blue shorts that formed the lower half of a trouser suit. Unfortunately, they were cut tightly at the crotch and Amanda suggested I struggle into a panty girdle so I appeared decent for Bella. The effect was eye watering for me but smoothed out the front of the shorts attractively. That day Bella insisted I wore sandals after she had seen the state of my feet and said I had to get fresh air to them. Amanda now began to select other items for me to wear and since the shop stock had to remain in perfect condition, I found myself washing and ironing everything I wore.

Bella was coming to the end of her time with us and Amanda had selected the shorts and top I first worn nearly three weeks previously. She would continue to visit us on our day off from the shop to do whatever was needed but as the three of us sat around the kitchen table after lunch, I realised how friendly we had become. It was odd, they always say women are bitchy but the competitive sarcasm I had exchanged with my university friends was less appealing than Amanda’s very funny description of me struggling into the panty girdle that morning. There was an air of kindness and friendship I had never previously experienced.

Bella’s remark about me only needing a padded bra and a touch of makeup for no one to guess I was male was a joke and one we all three laughed at. I suppose it was my fault really, when I said I could never get away with it. It was a challenge. A bit of fun. "Anyway," Amanda giggled, "at least you’ll get some idea of the way the customers think and how they feel."

Of course, it was a bit more than a padded bra and a touch of makeup, in the end. My nails were painted. There was a long discussion between Amanda and Bella whether I should go bare legged or wear stockings or tights and not wishing to offend of them I agreed to try on other outfits appropriate to each. Since the initial objective was to see how the effect could be created with the least additions my toenails were painted, to peep out of the sandals. The two girls watched in fits of laughter as I attempted to fasten the bra before they finally took pity on me and I was surprised when, after Bella had spent seemingly only a moment or two brushing mascara on my eyelashes and gloss on my lips, Amanda handed me the jacket to the shorts and a white handbag.

The effect was, though I say it myself, stunning but the shocking revelation was I liked the person who smiled shyly back at me from the mirror. I did not fancy her but as Bella and Amanda stood beside me to smile at our combined reflection I saw three friends who were comfortable with one another. I compared our figures and the way we dressed, not in competition but to check whether I looked right. My comment that my black sandals didn’t go with the white handbag or the white roll necked top was met with gales of friendly laughter before Amanda dashed upstairs to find the very thing I needed. It was only when I found the white low heeled sandals she brought fitted exactly that a cloud of doubt crossed my mind and that was quickly dashed away as the girls whisked everything from me to try an outfit with tights and then finally I was introduced to the intricacies of stockings and suspenders.

It was, by now getting late and Bella made her apologies leaving me in a fetching leather knee length skirt and flimsy top barely concealing silky underwear. The caress of the underwear was hypnotic and I wondered how long I could persuade Amanda to let me stay dressed that way. As we waved Bella off Amanda glanced at me and made her excuses, saying she needed the bathroom. I wandered back into the house and practiced walking in the slightly higher heels. I sat and immediately discovered I needed to be more careful. So I sat again and again trying desperately to remember the way I had seen girls sit.

I knew I had been tricked into wearing these clothes and yet, strangely, I was not angry just intrigued by their secret motives. The pull of the suspenders, the bounce of the artificial breasts, the caress of the silky underwear and so many other sensations were so beguiling. I knew the figure who gazed back from the mirror was me, whatever I had been before. I had revelled in Amanda’s lustful glances, earlier and had happily blushed at Bella’s compliments. I was certain nothing had changed between Amanda and I, if anything her glances had promised for the future, as though we had suddenly become closer. I recalled sitting with her before her dressing table mirror and realised how I had enjoyed the simple feminine act of preparing for bed with her. I wanted to be with her and to share her femininity and it seemed she found me more attractive this way. I blushed as I resolved to ask whether I might select a nightgown from the shop stock. There was a white slinky creation with slits running from ankle to waist held together with delicate white bows. I shivered as I longed for Amanda to release them and bare my body for our mutual pleasure.

 

Amanda reappeared just as I was retouching my lips with the gloss I had discovered in the bag I had been given. She had changed into clothes similar to mine and carried a jacket she slipped over my shoulders before grasping my hand to haul me out to the car.

The combination of fear and exhilaration was indescribable as we raced through the countryside and finally through the town, to get our first view of the shop which was to be our workplace from next week. As we drove back towards the cottage I finally made plucked up courage to ask Amanda about my disappearing clothes (male) and how she had managed to find shoes that fitted me. I was sure they weren’t hers as I had tried to slip a foot into a pair I had seen her wearing previously. She kept on changing the subject, offering to take me out the following day, dressed the way I was and promising a night of reckless pleasure. In fact, anything but answer me.

It was now late, the lingerie shop had already closed when we had driven past and I was surprised when we did not turn into our pretty village but carried on to the next before pulling up in front of a house standing on its own. I knew who was going to come to the door before the bulky figure of Priscilla lumbered into view. Amanda had to show me how to turn and place both feet on the floor before I could get out of the car and I waved them both aside as I clipped in my heels into the house.

I will say the confession was absolute and immediate but the reasons, until I read my aunt’s letters to Priscilla seemed excuses for subjecting me to humiliation. Aunt Tessa’s favourite and only niece had been my mother but she had not approved of her marriage to what proved to be a brutal and terrifying man. Miss Armitage’s instructions, which she showed me after realising the dual contradiction of my pleasure with the new me and my intention to discover the truth, described my father’s terrible mistreatment of my mother. My aunt’s determination her money would not go to me, if I turned out like my father, led her to instruct the solicitor, "A spell in skirts to learn the female point of view would rid him of any of his father’s violent tendencies. It is so difficult for a man to be violent or pompous with a woman who has seen him prettily dressed. My mother trained my own father that way and I saw the excellent results of my mother’s efforts. Young Chris was such a pretty child, he reminded me so much of his mother as a child. Find him a girl who will love him but will be firm. If Chris has any of his mother’s sensitivity I am certain he will respond and so I will be content for him to enjoy his inheritance."

The two females watched for my reaction. They had manipulated me and yet I could not be angry for I had discovered a new and very much nicer me. That was truly the best inheritance my Aunt could ever have left me. I did get my revenge on Priscilla by insisting should subjected herself to Bella’s ministrations and has become much sought after. Amanda? Well, she liked the nightgown I had seen and she agreed I could wear it that very night.

 

I didn’t start at the lingerie shop the following week. Amanda and I decided I needed far more training before I could pass with confidence and the customers don’t want to think they were being served my a man in a dress but after about three months they were.

And they don’t realise and I love it.

Amanda and I had a little ceremony when she gave me back my male clothes and I burned them. Bella still comes to the house to see that Amanda and Chris are immaculately turned out and was a witness at another ceremony at the cottage, with Priscilla when two beautiful brides made some very special promises and then went away on a honeymoon. We weren’t sure which of us was the more ravishing, but we don’t care.

My aunt’s bequest, I suspect, was not exactly what she envisaged but I think she would be very pleased.

 

 

 

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© July 1997 by Paula Mortenson. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.