The Bride of Bowmanor

by Helen Highwater

 

Chapter Six

My life, - my revolt. Exit Denise, enter Miss High-heels. An evening of humiliation. A terrible birching. My scarlet bodice. Miss Helen's triumph. Our wedding.

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It was Miss Helen's policy to make my life as a girl delightful to me. The next few months were months of pleasure tempered by fits of regret and remorse. But the fits did not last long. I was surrounded with luxuries. I was spoilt. I had beautiful dresses, a horse to ride, Violet to run about with, dainty tyrannies to endure, a great deal of liberty, and exciting punishments. Miss Priscilla was extraordinarily fertile in her expedients. To mix pain and pleasure in an inextricable confusion in my mind, so that I should never be able to think great pleasure possible without an accompaniment of pain. This was her design. For once this belief was implanted in my mind I must always long to remain in subjection to my dainty tyrants. Thus I remember addressing to her a flippant impertinence at a garden party. She took me at once to the motor-car and drove home with me. I was dressed in a long trailing frock of misty dark grey crepe de chine, with a big grey satin hat to match trimmed with grey ostrich feathers and a bow of green ribbon. I was wearing black silk stockings and little high-heeled patent leather button boots smart and quite new. Miss Priscilla led me into the punishment room where a sewing machine stood. She strapped my feet in their smart boots into the treadles, pushed a long mirror in front of me and said: "Now get to work, Miss High-heels!" I began to work the machine.

"Quicker! Quicker!"

I obeyed. In the mirror I could see the little feet in their fashionable dainty, boots flashing up and down, undergoing punishment.

"Still quicker!"

My thighs bruised one another. My face got red, but not merely with exertion and then in a delirium of passion, the feet raced up and down, a wanton smile shone in my eyes and on my lips. Miss Priscilla made me go on working the sewing machine in my dainty gown and fashionable bright buttoned boots for the rest of the afternoon.

But I must pass over the incidents of that time, the revenge which Lady Hartley's daughter who was jealous, deliberately took upon Violet and myself, the punishment of the velvet bag, the mask, the short frock, the dancing lesson, the mustard and the poultices. If my readers wish to hear more about the penalties which my tyrants in their ingenuity invented, they have only to say the word.

Meanwhile I hurry on towards the end.

In the autumn Miss Helen gave a ball at Bowmanor. I was dressed for the occasion in a plain exquisitely fitting long white velvet gown, which moulded my figure like a glove and fell in softly gleaming folds to my feet. A white satin sash about the waist alone broke the line. Diamonds and pearls flashed on white neck and shoulders, glittered about my white gloved-wrists, sparkled amidst my curls. My stockings of course were of the finest gauze silk and glittered with gems, while the fronts of my white satin slippers, which tonight had the heels raised to four and a half inches, blazed with diamonds and were finished with the daintiest bows made of diamonds. When my feet peeped out from the hem of my dress one saw two little sparkling shields of diamonds. When I showed myself to Miss Helen before the dance she warned me.

"There are great many coming to the ball, Denise, and very likely the ball- room will get hot. People no doubt will go out into the garden or on to the terrace between the dances. But you must not. Remember that! On a night like this, thieves may be lurking about the house, and you are wearing thousands of pounds worth of jewels. Your lovely little flashing slippers alone are worth a fortune. You wouldn't like to be kidnapped and robbed, would you Denise?"

"No," I replied with a shiver. "No indeed!" Yet I disobeyed Miss Helen. Halfway through the dance I went out on to the terrace and smoked a surreptitious cigarette with Violet. As I returned through the glass door into the drawing room I saw Miss Helen. Worse she saw me. She beckoned me across the room to her.

She seized me by the hand and turned me with my face to the wall at her side.

"Your heels together at once Denise, and your hands behind you," she whispered in a savage voice, and to Violet she said, "You can go to bed at once."

Miss Priscilla in a dress of dark mauve satin with a chemisette of lace filling the bosom joined her. They waited until the guests had returned to the ballroom. Then Miss Helen slid back the panel into the punishment room and pushed me in roughly. Miss Priscilla followed and closed it.

"I am sorry," I faltered, "that I disobeyed you, Miss Helen.

Miss Helen was in a rage.

"Gag her," she said savagely to Miss Priscilla. A scarf gagged my mouth the next moment. They pinioned my elbows to my side and bound my hands in front of me with satin ribbons. I was dreadfully frightened. Miss Helen was so furious. She was pale with anger.

"Stand up! Press your legs and feet tightly together Denise!"

I obeyed. The two women stooped and while Miss Priscilla gathered in my lovely velvet dress behind my legs, Miss Helen with a strong carpet-needle actually sewed it up from my haunches to my ankles, spoiling the gown and sewing my legs together in a tight sheath of gleaming white velvet which revealed their contours. Oh there would be no more dancing for me tonight in my sparkling satin-slippers!

Then while Miss Priscilla supported me, Miss Helen tied my ankles, which were exposed, tightly together with a satin ribbon and knotted it angrily.

A bright fire was blazing. They placed me on a chair close to it and then Miss Helen at my side sat down on a stool.

"Take care that Miss Denise does not fall off the chair Aunt," she said grimly.

Miss Priscilla held me firmly by the shoulders. Oh, what were they going to do with me? I was helpless! Miss Helen stooped; she lifted my legs rigid and helpless in their dainty gleaming velvet sheath and held out the strapped feet in their diamond-covered slippers close to the blaze of the fire.

"I'll teach these pretty high-heeled things to walk where I tell them," she cried and she held my legs firmly while the heat of the flames tortured my feet. I writhed and struggled.

"Yes, twist about Denise!" she said savagely. "A lot of good it will do you."

The perspiration burst out on my forehead. My slippers were scorching, my toes curled and twitched inside the slippers, the diamond bows and sparkling fronts flashed and glittered. I was helpless. I could not even cry out. The flames almost touched the soles of my shoes. The pain was terrible. I was on the point of swooning when they took me from the fire and stretched me out on a sofa for the rest of the evening. I did not recover the full use of my feet for a week.

Soon afterwards, a young and rising politician who had made his way without influence or friends came to our neighbourhood to make a speech. I went with Miss Helen and Violet and sat upon the platform. The speaker had a great reception and made a magnificent speech. The cheers and enthusiasm of the meeting tortured me. If he, without help, could rise so soon to such a position, what a splendid career I ought to have with all my advantages! I returned home sad and discontented. I followed Miss Helen to her boudoir.

"How long is this going to last?" I asked." How long are you going to keep me in girl's clothes, and rob me of my position?"

Miss Helen looked at me calmly.

"Not a moment longer than you wish, dear," she said. "You shall come out of your girl's clothes now."

I was wearing a very pretty black velvet gown ornamented with big satin buttons, patent leather shoes with silver buckles, a big black hat with blue ribbons of satin tied on one side under the chin and long white satin-gloves. Miss Helen stripped me there and then of everything except my hat, my three gloves, my black silk stockings and garters, and my high-heeled shoes. Then she strapped my hands behind me.

"Come Denise," she said taking me by the arm and opening the door, and pushing me into the passage. I was dreadfully ashamed. I tried to hide myself against her. I begged her pardon.

"Too late," she said.

She took me down into the little drawing room and made me stand in the corner there until it was time to dress for dinner.

"There is a dinner party to-night dear," she said quizzing me. "You shall appear as Evelyn Highwater and I hope you will like it."

Phoebe dressed me in a girl's chemise and drawers with heavy lace frills, laced me into a corset tighter than I usually wore by an inch, gloved me to the shoulders in white satin, put on to me a very décolleté bodice of white satin and lace, a little tight pair of black velvet knickers which only reached to the middle of my thighs and were fastened there with diamond buckles and big jewelled buttons, leaving the frills of my drawers exposed. Girls' transparent black stockings strained tightly up to the corsets and adorned with big ruffled bow-garters of blue satin just above the knees, which the frills of my drawers constantly exposed, and girls' patent leather shining slippers with diamond buckles and scarlet Louis Quinze heels five and a half inches high, set off my legs and feet. A short sleeved black velvet coat cut tightly into my corseted waist and made in the style of Fragonard's pictures, lined with white satin and smart with jewelled buttons was slipped on over my bodice. It was open in front and showed my décolletage, the swelling bosom, and the girl's throat. My hair was taken down and arranged in long shining curls and tied back from my face with a white satin ribbon tied in an enormous bow. A white satin sash with a great bow and a diamond buckle on my left hip, a girl's big hat of blue satin, earrings, necklaces, and bracelets completed this costume. What made it still more humiliating was a horrible arrangement in front of the tight knickers. A big bow of black satin was passed through a great oval ruby buckle, which blazed like fire against the softly gleaming black velvet.

In this humiliating dress Phoebe and Netta dragged me with jeers along the passages of my own house to Miss Helen's bedroom.

I was in tears. Miss Helen chained my hands behind me and fixed little black fetters of polished steel on my ankles. She was deliciously dressed in pink satin.

"Turn round Miss High-heels," she said sternly.

"That is your name for the future - Miss Evelyn High-heels the only name you will be known by. Turn round and let me see that the seams of your delicate stockings are straight." She showed me to myself in the mirrors. I looked just like a pretty grown-up girl dressed for some fantastic, masquerade. "Oh Miss Helen," I moaned "you can't show me off dressed like this. You promised that I shouldn't be dressed as a girl."

"You certainly aren't dressed as a young lady, Evelyn," she said with a laugh. "Young ladies don't show the frills of their pantalons as a rule, nor so much pretty stocking. Nor do they wear flaunting scarlet heels as high as yours. Only improper women and young effeminate gentlemen undergoing discipline wear five and a half inch heels on their dainty shoes."

"But the ruby buckle in front - Oh that's horrible."

"You will wear that dear as the symbol of your subjection to my sex, the sign that over your sex, the sex of woman is imposed." Handcuffed and fettered in this dress I was carried downstairs in Phoebe's arms into the drawing room, and presented to my neighbours assembled for dinner. I could have died of shame. Congratulations were showered upon Miss Helen.

"What an improvement!" cried Mrs. Dawson, the vicar's wife. "He is very like Denise."

"Yes I wish Denise could have stayed," said Miss Helen," for us to compare them. She has gone home to her aunt this afternoon, where I am afraid she is not very happy."

The ladies crowded round me, the men guffawed contemptuously.

"I think the fetters and handcuffs complete the dress so prettily," said Lady Hartley.

The old General stooped and felt my feet.

"The shoes are very smart," he said. "High-heeled girls' shoes are such a good thing for wilful and disobedient young gentlemen."

"He has certainly never looked so pretty," said Guy Repton with a snigger." I am sure he ought to be very grateful to his young step-sister for the dainty care with which she has dressed and moulded his figure."

Thus they talked of me. I stood red with shame. During dinner I was made to stand up in the centre of the table before them all with my heels together, and was only allowed to eat when they were having dessert. After dinner I shuffled in my fetters with the ladies into the drawing room. Miss Helen placed me in a chair with my feet on a satin footstool gave me some embroidery to work at with my gloved fingers and told me to be silent and work hard.

At ten o'clock she took the work away. "You mustn't spoil your pretty eyes dear," she said. "And you mustn't read a novel for you would soil those dainty white satin-gloves with the cover, and you mustn't dance for your scarlet heels are too high. You had better come with me. Violet will you come too?"

Miss Helen slid back the panel of the punishment room, and made me lie face downwards on a white satin ottoman. She placed a white satin cushion under my bosom to lift it up.

"Hold up your head Evelyn High-heels. That's right." She took a little patent leather strap and bound my white gloved hands tightly behind me. Then she turned carefully up the lace frills and strapped my legs together above the knees. With a third biting little patent leather strap she fixed my ankles together. Finally with a fourth strap she tied my feet back to my legs in the most painful fashion.

"Violet will you see that Miss High-heels keeps her pretty face up and does not move."

Violet took a book and sat down in a comfortable chair beside the ottoman.

I was so strained in my miserable position that I could not keep still, and holding my head back and face high in the air wreaked my neck. Yet if I stirred Violet pinched my calves mercilessly, and if I lowered my face to rest my neck, she boxed my ears until my head sang.

"I thought you loved me Violet," I said.

"I loved a very pretty girl-friend called Denise," she replied coldly. "How do you like being a man Miss High-heels? Keep your bright little slippers still! After all it is not entire joy being a man is it? You had better have remained a girl. You look lovely in your velvet knickers but that is because you have a girl's figure and face, hands and feet."

Miss Helen and Miss Priscilla came in an hour, sent Violet to bed and took down my knickers.

"We are going to start you off on your new career as a high-heeled young gentleman with a good birching," said Miss Helen.

They laid me on my face on an ottoman, made the wheel run along the ceiling until the rope in the groove hung above my feet. They substituted for the leather strap a silk strap, which bound my ankles tightly together. This they fastened to the hook at the end of the rope and by touching a lever in the wall, the rope was wound up until I hung head downward in the air. Miss Helen birched me in this attitude until I thought my head would burst. They lowered me, removed my knickers and laid me again on my face on the ottoman. They doubled back my legs and tied my right foot up to my right gloved elbow, my left foot to the left elbow, my hands of course, being still strapped behind me. Then they dragged my thighs apart and secured them in this position. Miss Helen took a new birch. In her exquisite rustling frock of pink satin, her little satin slippers peeping restlessly out beneath the skirt, her face flushed and radiant with enjoyment, she looked wonderfully pretty. She stood beside me with her back to my head. Daintily holding my left strapped-back foot in her left hand, she flogged me between the thighs.

I screamed for mercy.

"You had better be thoroughly birched to-night darling," she said. "The recollection will save my pretty Miss High-heels many a birching in the future."

The twigs slashed and slashed me between my thighs curling up on to the stomach underneath and torturing with anguish the most tender parts of my body.

Then she set me free.

"Put on your knickers, Evelyn, again."

Writhing with pain, I took off my slippers. I could not have got the tight knickers over my high-heels, drew on my pantalon and knickers and Miss Priscilla fixed them up and buttoned and buckled them at my thighs. Then she removed my coat bodice, stays and chemise, stripping me naked from the waist upwards. There were some panels of looking glass in the walls. How strange I looked in them, the buckled slippers the silk stockings, the frills, the pretty black velvet knickers with the jewelled buttons and rising out of them the white bosom and shoulders of a girl!

They laid me on the ottoman at the end of which a pair of stocks was fixed. They put me on my face, fixed my ankles in the stocks and my hands down to the legs of the ottoman.

"It is your turn now Aunt," said Miss Helen to Miss Priscilla. I was sobbing as if my heart would break. My thighs were on fire. "Oh please no more."

Miss Helen took a seat in front of me and patted my tear-stained face with playful fingers.

"We are going to dress you in a scarlet bodice dear, which will be extremely pretty with your smart black velvet knickers. It will be a skin-tight décolleté bodice and Aunt Priscilla's birch will do all the dressmaking. I am not sure that it ought not to be a high-necked bodice. We will see. Go on Auntie."

Miss Priscilla took a new birch, long and supple and horrible. She swished it up and down and then she began cutting my back from left to right and afterwards from right to left avoiding carefully the skin of my shoulders which an evening bodice would leave exposed.

I struggled and yelled and sobbed.

"Oh it's dreadful! It's intolerable! Oh take all my fortune! Turn me out as a beggar! Only don't torture me. Ohooooooooooooh! Aaaaah!aaaaaaah!"

Miss Helen laughed and lifted up her lovely little pink satin slipper to my mouth.

"Kiss my foot dear!"

I obeyed. The feel of her warm dainty instep under my lips almost made me forget the pain.

"There that will do," said Miss Priscilla. She released my hands and bound them behind me. I had no power of resistance. I was twitching, and writhing and tom with sobs. But they had no pity for me. They turned me over on my back and then Miss Priscilla birched my stomach. The agony of that punishment was the worst of all. When she released me I was trembling from head to foot, my teeth were chattering, I was going to swoon.

"No nonsense Miss High-heels," said Miss Helen sternly.

"Stand up prettily in your bright buckled slippers and pretty velvet knickers." She gave me some champagne and brandy. Then she took a little riding whip. "Oh, no more!"

"We shall teach you obedience darling." Slash. "There is a good one and here's another." Slash, slash. "Oh we'll cook you finely. All your wealth," Slash. "all your jewels," Slash, slash. "all your pretty clothes, and high-heeled shoes won't save you." Slash, slash.

She kept turning me round, searching out white unbeaten spots on my body, and when she found one she slashed it until it matched the rest of me.

"There you are dear in your scarlet bodice," she said kissing me contemptuously. Phoebe was rung for and she carried me upstairs sobbing bitterly half-naked as I was and put me to bed.

I remained in bed ten days thinking - thinking hard.

In my pitiful state, Miss Helen decided, I was not fit to suckle any baby, and none were brought to me. My breasts, however, knew nothing of this decision and continued to produce their milk. By the third day my breasts were gorged with milk and swollen and aching. I missed the languorous feelings imparted by the sucking at my breasts. On the fourth day I asked Phoebe to bring a baby to me, but she replied that Miss Helen had forbidden it. On the fifth day, my breasts huge and swollen, Violet came to visit me.

"How are you?" she asked.

"Oh, Violet, I am so pleased that you came to me. I have been thinking about my position. But first, Violet, can you try to persuade Miss Helen to allow Phoebe to bring a baby to me? My breasts, as you can see, are swollen and need someone to suck at them."

"I will try", was all she said. Soon she was back.

"No, Miss Helen will not allow it."

"Oh, Violet, what am I to do? My breasts ache so!" I pulled down the bed covers and opened the top of my night gown to show the swollen globes. "Your breasts are certainly large now, Denise. May I touch them?"

"Of course, Violet."

Violet leaned over the bed and gently caressed first one and then the other breast. The nipples, sensitive to her touch, stiffened and stood up. Violet slowly bent over and took my nipple in her mouth. She sucked, and my breast relieved at last, gushed forth with milk. Violet took it all in her mouth and sucked greedily.

"Oh. Violet, Violet!"

When the pressure in that breast was relieved, Violet moved her mouth to the other. More confidently now she sucked at the nipple and teased it by nipping it gently with her teeth. Lifting her head she breathed, "Denise, what a wonderful girl you are! Please don't go back to your trousers. "

She ran from the room.

By the eighth day my breasts were once more swollen and still Miss Helen would not permit a baby to attend me. However Phoebe revealed that she was not so hard hearted as I had thought. Unable, at Miss Helen's command to bring the baby to me, she nevertheless brought the baby into the next room and gently pinched its arm. At the baby's cry my breasts began to leak milk and with its increasing howling soon milk was spurting from both my nipples, soiling my night gown and the silk sheets. I assisted it by pulling at my nipples with my fingers, as I believe milk maids milk a cow. Soon the pressure was lessened.

Phoebe entered the room a few minutes later, pretending to know nothing of what had happened.

"Miss Denise, you have ruined this clothing and the bed. Rollover so that I can change the bed and then I will change you."

"Thank you, Phoebe."

On the eleventh day I was able to bear corsets once more round my body. I was allowed to get up. It was the evening, nearly time for dinner. I was dressed in the most wonderful costume of palest lavender satin - décolleté bodice, a sash with long gold fringed streamers, down to the heels of my shoes and a great bow at my back, short satin knickers with a ruby buckle in front, and diamond buckles at the thighs, the frills of my drawers - which also were short and did not hide my knees, fluttering, open-worked silk stockings and satin slippers which were covered with diamonds and had diamond bows besides and five and a half inch heels; and of course long white satin-gloves.

I was led to Miss Helen. She kissed me affectionately. I was encouraged to say:

"Miss Helen please don't keep me dressed like this!"

"But I love you like this," she said leading me to a long mirror. "Stand with your satin slippers together. You look exquisite dear with your curls swinging down to your waist and your tall slender figure tightly encased in lavender satin. "

"But I can't go out dressed like this."

"This is an evening dress, darling. You can go out in your velvet knickers and your little buttoned patent leather boots."

"But everybody will jeer at me."

"I think that you will find that they will make love to you, dear," Miss Helen answered with a smile.

"But when am I to be allowed to wear trousers again."

"Never," said Miss Helen decidedly. She sat down. I stared at her aghast.

 

"Never?"

"Of course not. How can you wear trousers with those hips and that waist and that pretty posterior?"

"But it's my corset which intensifies the girlish look of them," I said blushing deeply.

"No doubt, but you can never get rid of your corset, darling. In fact I have plans for tighter corsets yet. At the moment your waist is 20 inches, that's not good enough. It must be below 18 inches and the smaller the better. Remember that you have girl's round breasts. You must have a support for them; otherwise your figure would soon be ruined. It would be ridiculous to let you wear trousers. You look pretty now. You would only look silly and, dear, rather improper in trousers."

I reddened with confusion.

"Will you keep me in dresses forever?"

"Yes," Miss Helen went on, "I am responsible for your good name. A return to trousers can never be. Go now with Phoebe and she will dress you for dinner, accept that you will always wear dresses and she will take away these satin knickers and the ruby buckle and allow you a skirt to match the lavender bodice. Go quickly, we have many guests expected."

I went upstairs to where Phoebe waited.

"Do with me as you will, Phoebe."

"I cannot, Miss. Mistress Helen orders that you must tell me what you are to wear. You must choose the knickers or this skirt."

She held out a full lavender satin skirt, much decorated with swags of lace and diamond appliqué work. I could see that it matched the bodice, which I wore perfectly.

"Oh, Phoebe, if I accept the skirt then I accept dresses forever!"

"What else could you wear, with your fine figure, Miss Denise? You can never look right in men's clothes again."

I burst into tears, "Put me into the skirt, Phoebe, I think she has won."

Phoebe came to me and took off the satin knickers, but to my surprise also started to take off the lavender bodice.

"What are you doing, Phoebe?"

"If you accept the skirt, then I must put you into a tighter corset. Mistress Helen wishes you to have a smaller waist and the skirt has been made to fit the smaller size. This new corset," she said, holding it up, "will bring your waist to 18 inches, and then you may wear the skirt."

"Do anything, Mistress Helen has commanded," I said through my tears.

Later we sat at the dinner table and looking up I saw Phoebe enter the room with a small child in her arms, sleeping peacefully.

"So Denise, have you accepted your fate? Do you acknowledge that you will always wear dresses?" Helen asked in front of the whole assembled company.

I felt a stir of resentment. I was a man! I should be in charge!

"Miss Helen, you cannot keep me like this, I will not have it! I am a man; the master of this estate of Bowmanor, my destiny is a career in politics and perhaps a wife and children!"

I saw Phoebe gently pinch the child's chubby arm which made it wake and cry. My breasts responded immediately in their normal way and milk began to harden my nipples and I knew that it would soon leak and spoil my fine gown. Therefore I called Phoebe to me and lifting one of my fine, white, round breasts from the top of my low cut gown I allowed Phoebe to hold the baby to it (I of course was not strong enough to hold it's weight) and allowed it to suck at my enlarged nipple. I felt again the surge as the milk spurted from the tightened globe of my breast, and wondered at the curious but wonderful feelings this engendered in me.

How my step sister and the assembled company laughed!

"Oh yes Denise, we can see that you are indeed a fine gentleman! It is obvious to us all that you are the big, strong man who should rule this estate, and indeed the country, as you sit there in your low cut silken gown, high heeled, jewelled shoes, a tight corseted waist, and a baby sucking at your fine, round, milk giving breasts.

No, my fine gentleman, I shall tell you what your role is. You and I shall unite the two halves of the family, we are not related at all by blood and so there is no bar to our marriage. You are legally a man and I am a woman. Should we wish to marry then any priest should do it, especially of course our own chaplain, he knows who has the gift of his job. If you choose to marry in a fine white gown whose business is it but ours? Or should we have matching gowns? Would you like that?

 

You shall live in this house in fine female splendour, with no expense spared on gowns and prettiness, but you shall suckle the children of this house and spend your time raising our children.

You, despite your femininity cannot bear the children; I shall do that, children born of your seed, which the servant women shall milk from you under my Aunts direction. But once our children are born I shall carry on with my role of head of this house and you shall suckle them and mother them. They shall play around your skirts.

You shall raise them and beautify this house, being the lovely, but empty headed hostess for my important friends. I'm sure that some of them will take enjoyment from sucking at your sweet, milk giving, breasts and others from inflicting on you punishments which they and I shall enjoy devising.

That is your fine career, my sweet Denise! You will always wear dresses and I know you well enough to know that you shall enjoy it too!

Now, fine girl, ask me, beg me to allow you to do it."

I saw that it was in vain to bend her. I recognized also some truth in her observations. She knew me so well! She knew that I loved the sensations of wearing the fine clothes she gave me, the high heeled shoes, the jewels. She knew that I loved the punishments they gave me, I was forever in her power. She and Miss Priscilla between them had had their revenge. I had inherited my father's fortune and in return they had made me irrevocably a girl.

The company waited in silence. I stood and gave the baby to Phoebe.

"Beg me," Helen repeated. "Crawl to me and beg!"

I fell immediately to my knees as she had once said I would and crawled across the floor to her feet. Bending to kiss her shoe, I said "Please, Miss Helen, I humbly beg you, may I be allowed the privilege of wearing dresses and high heels and being subject to you, all of my days?"

Miss Helen kissed me ardently. To this she had been bringing me.

"Kiss me shoe again and ask me to marry you, Denise."

I bent over her beautiful feet and kissed first one shoe and then the other. "Please Helen, would you do me the great honour of marrying me?"

"Very romantic, Denise! Not just on one knee but on both and bowing in supplication!"

"I accept your proposal and I will make you very happy Denise," she said. "I will keep you beautifully dressed. You shall have Violet, your friends, your enjoyments."

So it was arranged. With Guy Repton's help and her lawyer's and my enormous fortune all was easily arranged.

It was made clear to me from an early stage that Helen and Aunt Priscilla would make the arrangements. They would decide who would be invited, they would choose what would be worn, and they would choose where the honeymoon would be.

I asked Helen if we could have a quiet wedding in the local village church, and she laughed in my face.

"What? The greatest landowner in England is to be married at St. George's, Highwater? A church which can only hold 150? No, of course not, Denise. This will be the society wedding of the year, if not the decade. We will be married in Ely cathedral, and all of our society friends will be there."

"Helen?" I asked quietly.

"Yes, my pet lamb."

"What will I wear?"

"Why, the finest gown money can buy. I have already commissioned the Queen's own dressmaker, and in fact that is why Phoebe strains at your corset laces each day, for the gown will have a waist of 16 inches only."

"Oh, Helen, then it is true that I will always wear dresses?"

"Of course, that is what you agreed to."

"But then Helen, what will you wear? Are there to be two wedding gowns?"

"That is also arranged, but do not worry your pretty head, all will become clear on the day. You must concentrate only on staying out of the sun, to keep your complexion white, and eat less so that Phoebe may get you down to sixteen inches. Now run along, sweet girl."

"Yes, Helen."

From then onwards at meal times, wherever the meal was taken and whoever was present, after I had sat down Phoebe would take my hands and bind them behind my back, with the most delicate of ribbon, but in a way where I could not move them without tearing the fabric, which would not have been acceptable in polite company. Then Phoebe would stand to my left and cut up my food and feed me, like a small child. I would conduct myself as if nothing unusual was happening, chatting with those present in the most normal of ways. Phoebe was under strict orders about how much I was to eat and how much my waist must be reduced by the time of the wedding. I was never fed more then one quarter of what was on the plate and left the table almost more hungry than when I arrived. Phoebe also watched over me all my waking hours to ensure that no food passed my lips. As time went by and Phoebe changed to smaller and smaller corsets, my waist grew smaller and smaller too. My breasts however were unaffected and the reducing size of my waist gave greater prominence to my fine orbs.

Several weeks before the arranged date, at Mistress Helen's instruction, I travelled by carriage to London, accompanied by Phoebe. The coachman took us to some address, but I do not know it, and we were met by ladies, but I do not know who, who took me to a dressing room and, with Phoebe's help stripped me to my corset and pantalon. The ladies measured me, and it seemed to me were overly surprised at my waist and bust measurements. They tried on me what I believe they called a tulle, and pins were put in and quick stitches to make it fit more closely to my body. On our return Mistress Helen summoned Phoebe and I to her study and questioned Phoebe closely on the events of the day. Several times I attempted to answer her questions but was told to be quiet and that I was not being asked. When she was satisfied with Phoebe's answers we were both dismissed.

A week later we were back and now I was fitted into a close fitting white linen garment, cut low to expose my breasts and with extremely long skirts. At both these fittings no-one consulted me. If they had a question, they asked Phoebe, and their words to me consisted only of "Stand still" or "Turn this way" or "Stand up more straight, girl"

On the way back to Bowmanor I asked Phoebe why this was. She laughed.

"Because Mistress Helen has told them that you have the intelligence of a child. You are beautiful but have no brains. They would no more consult you for a decision than they would consult your little dog, Pinkie!"

"Oh, Phoebe, that is awful! Does all society think that I am so childlike?"

"Do not think badly of Mistress Helen, Miss Denise, she has done it to protect you. When you are married and all the world can see that you, the man, choose to live in skirts, to play with your little dog, and raise your children, when they can see that the Mistress makes all the decisions, and that all you do is look beautiful, it will be easier for then to accept if they believe you to be like a child."

"Oh, Phoebe, what have I got myself into?"

"A wonderful world of feminine pampering, should you be unhappy I will change places with you in a flash. There are many worse off than you, Miss Denise."

Again on our return Phoebe and I were summoned and Phoebe was questioned. I had learned my role and remained quiet.

Finally at the third fitting the real dress was put upon me.

It was magnificent! Phoebe's work with the corset laces and my abstinence from food had succeeded in reducing my waist to fifteen inches and my breasts still swelled out like large white globes. The dress fitted so tightly that a button hook had to be used to close it all the way up my spine. From the waist the tiers of magnificent silk and satin fell over the built up bustle to form a train of twenty yards in length. I was perched upon wonderful white satin shoes decorated with pearls and diamonds to match the dress. The heels of the shoes were five inches high and so thin that the heel could pass through the diamond engagement ring which Helen had given me. Although used to high heels, never had I worn such narrow heels and I required to practice walking in them. When Phoebe was questioned and when Helen was informed of this, she had another pair of shoes made, not decorated but also white satin and with heels even higher, at six inches! These I could use to practice and for evening after evening Helen or Aunt Priscilla would watch me as they made me walk up and down the drawing room until it was adjudged that I was satisfactory in my performance.

The day before the wedding we all travelled to Ely Cathedral for a rehearsal of the ceremony. I was not required to know what Helen and Aunt Priscilla would do, only that I would travel in a white open coach to the main door of the cathedral, where I would descend, taking great care with the long train of the dress and waiting until the bridesmaids and twenty flower girls were ready before and behind me. Then I proceeded into the cathedral on the arm of Mr. Guy Repton, for I had no male relative to give me away, and to the strains of the wedding march made my way slowly to the altar where Helen waited. I was made to do this several times before Helen and Aunt Priscilla were happy with my speed of walking, always too fast it appeared, and with my posture.

"Hold your head up, girl!"

"Walk more slowly, everyone will want to see how beautiful you look."

"Straighten your back!"

Eventually they allowed that I was nearly good enough and we proceeded to rehearse the ceremony itself. When we came to the actual words of the vows we did not speak them aloud but only said them in our heads, following the prompting of the Bishop.

Then arm in arm Helen and I made our way back down the aisle, acknowledging the congratulations of the non existent crowds, and into the open carriage for the return to Bowmanor.

 

On the evening before the wedding I parted from Helen and was taken in a closed carriage to lodge in nearby Windhowl Hall. Though I met my hostess briefly, Phoebe and the other maids took me to a suite of rooms where I was to spend the night. Much time was spent on my complexion and my hair before I was allowed to go to bed. I did not sleep much that night. I spent much of it wondering what tomorrow would be like and then what my life as Helen's wife would require of me.

We rose early, and Phoebe and the maids went through their well rehearsed methods of making my hair and face as beautiful as possible. I have to admit in my pride that with the flowers and jewels woven into my hair and the subtle colours which the girls used upon my face, I had never looked more beautiful.

Phoebe helped me into my underwear and then into a new white corset, decorated with pink and blue ribbons. Phoebe pulled at the laces but fifteen inches was not difficult now, and less was not required or it might spoil the line of the dress. The bustle was fastened to me and formed a false bottom to push out the rear of the dress. I thought that we were ready for the dress but Phoebe then took a white satin strap with buckles and fastened each end around my legs just below the knee. The length of the strap was adjusted and I was required to walk and the strap was readjusted until I could only take the shortest of steps.

"Oh, Phoebe, why must I wear this on my wedding day? Can I not go just one day without punishment?"

"Mistress Helen commands it, Miss Denise. You proceed up the aisle too quickly she says and this will prevent that. It is not a punishment merely a device to control you. Mistress Helen says that you must think of it as a sign of your acceptance of her control of you. A sign that you are giving yourself to her."

A rush of emotion came over me. I was giving myself to her. I gave myself freely into her servitude and into her bondage, she could do with me whatever she liked and I knew that whatever it was I would love it.

"I give myself to her, bind it more tightly, Phoebe so that I can only just take a step of the very smallest span."

Finally three women carried in my wedding dress. It looked even more magnificent than it had at the dressmakers. Three maids held the dress as I stepped into it and Phoebe took the buttonhook and gradually did the buttons up from the bustle to the high back. As she progressed the dress tightened around my torso and gradually my breasts were pushed higher up and out. The back was arranged to form the train and I practiced walking down the long gallery room. Phoebe pulled on to me the tightest of white satin gloves which came above the elbow, and then arranged the veil.

I was taken downstairs to meet the bridesmaids, which included Violet and Daisy and the flower girls, whom I praised to the heavens for the dainty prettiness. We waited there until the white open coach decorated with white ribbons and arrayed with flowers was brought to the door and then Phoebe hoisted me over her shoulder as she had done so often in the past and carried me to the coach.

"This is not necessary, Phoebe, I can walk!"

"You must not get those wonderful shoes dirty, Miss Denise."

"But the humiliation, Phoebe, everyone is looking."

"Today you are entering a life more humiliating than anything I can impose, and remember you do it of your own free will."

She sat me in the coach, arranged my train and veil and gave me my bouquet of flowers. The chief bridesmaids joined me and the others took up two more coaches. The flower girls filled four more. The imposing sight of seven highly decorated bridal coaches making its way from Windhowl Hall to Ely Cathedral brought people onto the street in every hamlet, village and town through which we passed. It seemed that the whole of the county came to see me as I progressed towards my union with Helen. As we drew nearer the cathedral the crowds grew thicker and soon we would not have been able to pass were it not for the policemen holding the crowds back onto the pavements. Violet whispered to me;

"See Denise, the vows you make today will be the most public sign that you will always wear dresses. After today you will never be able to wear trousers again, even if you wished to, which I doubt."

I was suddenly wracked with great doubts. Never wear trousers again! My ambitions to be a great landowner and a force in the nations political life! What was I doing?

Before I could think what to do or say the coach stopped and I realised that we had arrived at the door of the cathedral. Guy Repton waited for me on the thick white carpet which had been laid from the street, all the way up the steps and into the cathedral. The bridesmaids stood up and so automatically did I. They stepped down from the coach and looked up, waiting for me to join them. But I could not! Foolishly I had asked Phoebe to tighten the strap and now I could not take a big enough step to descend from the carriage. A hush fell on the crowd as I stood in indecision. I saw Phoebe whisper in Guy Repton's ear and a wide grin broke across his face.

"Come, Mr. Dennis Evelyn Highwater, I will assist you."

Stepping up into the coach he lifted me into his arms and held me like a baby as he stepped down and placed me carefully on my high heels. The crowd laughed long and hard. I blushed like never before. The bridesmaids and flower girls took their places and Guy took my arm and as if in a dream I proceeded up the steps, very carefully and very slowly, as the crowd laughed and laughed.

When we arrived at the door of the cathedral Phoebe and the bridesmaids made a great show of arranging my train and my flowers as a signal was sent to the organist. Finally we were ready and as the organ broke into the wedding march Guy Repton and I started the walk to the altar.

"Head up, straight back." Mr. Repton hissed.

At each step I could feel the strap restraining me, and the steps I took were barely six inches each. The distance to the altar seemed a hundred yards and at the pace at which I could walk it took many minutes to arrive there. Helen's wish that all the congregation should have the opportunity to see how beautiful I was, was certainly fulfilled. I could feel the eyes of everyone there upon me, but I looked only for Helen among those at the altar and did not look about me.

 

After an eternity we arrived at the altar and Mr. Repton placed me beside Helen and stepped back. At last I could look at Helen and she looked magnificent. Since I was the bride she had to be the groom but she had chosen to make it clear that it was I who was the peculiar one and so she wore a dress as befitted a woman of her station. It was made of the finest materials, and was fashioned to resemble mans morning dress. The bodice was black, buttoned across the front and ending in a semblance of a tail coat. The skirt was grey pin striped but was full and supported by petticoats. She wore a top hat, decorated with ribbons and flowers. A man could not have worn a hat into the church but of course she was a woman. The overall effect was to make it obvious that she was the groom here but in a very feminine style.

We proceeded with the ceremony and as we came to make our vows Helen whispered to me,

"Give yourself to me, little one, and I will make you beautiful and keep you in dresses forever."

"Helen, I willingly give myself to you. You may do with me whatever you please."

We completed our vows, though it seemed odd to be addressed as Dennis Evelyn. We were declared husband and wife, though it was not clear who was which. Helen raised my veil and kissed me full on the lips and I almost fainted with emotion. She linked my arm and we turned to face the congregation. I was shocked, the cathedral was full to bursting and among the front rows I could see all the great politicians of the day, including the Prime Minister. As we proceeded slowly down the aisle, with Helen acknowledging the congratulations of the crowd I remained silent and merely smiled.

When we reached the street the crowds cheered and yelled. At the coach Helen lifted me as Guy Repton had done and placed me in the carriage. We set off with Helen waving to the crowds, on our way to Bowmanor for the reception.

 

"Helen, the Prime Minister was there!"

"Yes, of course dear. All the major figures were there, and will also be at the reception. You must try to speak to them, to thank them for the congratulations and their wedding presents."

"But Helen, I wanted to be a politician. I wanted to be Prime Minister."

"I know, darling, but now you are my wife. Still I will be active in politics, so the family name will still be recognised."

"Could I not still do something? Could I stand for Parliament?"

She looked into my face and laughed.

"My darling, dear Denise, it is difficult to see how you could return to your desire for a political career, when all of society was present at the wedding of the decade, did you know that society rumours say that you spent half a million pounds on the wedding? And when everyone saw you come up the aisle in a wonderful wedding dress, made by the Queen's own favourite dressmakers at fabulous expense. Did you also know that the rumours say that the only cheque you signed personally which was to do with the wedding was the one for your dress? That you cared about nothing except your own dress and flowers and jewels? I think you should find it difficult to be taken seriously as a political force when you show yourself to the whole world in a magnificent dress, and with your breasts revealed for all to admire. Hardly the actions of a serious man!"

 

*******************************************

"Mistress Denise, you must put on this dress!"

"But I do not like it, Phoebe. It is cut so low I fear I will fall out of it, it is immodest. Then these lacings at the bust, it is designed to allow my breasts to be seen. Why must I wear this dress, Phoebe?"

"Because the Mistress told me that you should."

"Do you know why?"

"No, Mistress Denise, only that it was something to do with the Prime Minister coming to the dinner tonight."

"I do not like it!"

"Nevertheless, Mistress Helen commands and we must obey, mustn't we?"

I sighed, "Yes, Phoebe, we must obey."

After dinner I was summoned to the corridor between the dining room and the drawing room. There I found Helen and the Prime Minister.

"Come here, my dear. The Prime Minister wishes to meet you. I know that you have always wished to meet him."

"Yes, indeed Helen."

"Ah, Highwater, pleased to meet you. Wondered if I could ask you a question, old man?"

"Of course, Prime Minister, anything if I can be of help."

A chance to influence political policy at last. The Prime Minister wanted to ask my opinion!

"Excellent. Well, dear sir I've always had difficulty believing that you have the breasts which society rumours you have. Is it true?"

Oh, horror. He was only interested in my breasts! I stood open mouthed and silent.

"Come along, Denise answer the Prime Minister, he hasn't got all day for you to stand around like a loon. If you can't answer, show him, open the lacing of your bodice so that he can see."

"Must I, Helen?"

"You must"

I opened the laces which held together the front of the bodice of my dress and lifted my breasts from the top of my corset.

The Prime Minister looked at them closely.

"May I touch them?"

I started to answer, but he was not asking me. Helen laughed and said "Of course Prime Minister, how can I refuse you anything?"

He reached out and cupped them in his hands. His thumbs stroked my nipples and they hardened under his touch. He looked at Helen and laughed, "Get's excited easily doesn't he?"

"As any girl would at your touch, Prime Minister."

They both laughed, Helen linked arms with him and they walked off to the drawing room, deep in flirtatious conversation. I stood in the corridor, my bodice unbuttoned, my breasts sticking proudly out, my nipples hard, abandoned and not considered. Phoebe bustled round the corner, took in the situation in one glance and commanded me,

"Do up your dress, Mistress Denise, you'll be wanted in the drawing room to entertain the guests."

*************

I met the Prime Minister in the hallway as he came out of Helen's bedroom in the morning.

"Damn fine woman, your wife, Highwater. Damn good in bed! Oh, of course, you wouldn't know would you?"

 

My thanks to the original author of "Miss High Heels" who, as far as I know has not been identified. If you are the author and wish to be credited, or if you think I have ruined your story and would like it removed from this site, please e-mail me.

Helen Highwater

  

  

  

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