Pippa

by Suzi C

 

Chapter One

My life up to the age of fourteen had been uneventful. A quiet, sheltered life, and perhaps just a little lonely. Not that I ever felt consciously unhappy. I was fairly self absorbed like other kids of that age, interested in, if a little fearful, of the world around me, and perhaps as an exception to most of my peers I was generally accepting of what life dealt me.

I was reasonably tall if thinly built. Beyond being a reasonable cross-county runner I made few impressions in the sporting arena. I sort of lacked any grasp of the team playing culture. I suffered a bit of bullying at some of my schools but nothing serious. The worst bullying seemed to fall to the smaller noisier kids.

My mother was a bit distant sometimes, not having a lot of spare time for her only child. To be fair, as a general practice Doctor she was very busy. Father was even more distant, not just in manner, but very often distant as in not there. As a leading Dermatologist he traveled far and wide.

I didn't have a lot of friends. Schooling was a little disrupted as Mother followed Father around his various new consultancies, which was a little futile as various international commitments kept him away for long periods from whatever was his current place of employment in this country. My friends were often my books. I read everything from classic literature to 'the life cycle of the earthworm'. Being a bit of an escapist my PG Woodhouse collection was a bit of a favourite of mine, though I think Mother found this a little 'non PC'.

The plan was that my education would be at Father's old boarding school but after one term of misery they felt some compassion for poor Philip Hall, and put him in the local Grammar.

As we moved to new parts of the country so I moved to different local schools of varying quality. Being terminally shy, uncoordinated, and often just passing through it was hard to make new friends. But I was good at amusing myself, a little reclusive perhaps. I was proud of my parents though, and the occasionally wistful, but warm, "What are we ever going to do with Pip", from my Mother made me feel loved.

I suppose I should have the most vivid memory of hearing of my parents death in that car crash in Florida, but it's very blurred now, even after such a relatively short time. I do remember that Mother had only arrived in the country the day before. Father was working there for a month, and Mother, determined to see something of him, had flown out having acquired a Locum for a week at some considerable cost.

I was in a sort of daze for some time. Our current housekeeper, Mrs Dawn, was very kind, although I was something of a stranger to her. It must have been nearly a week before Aunt Julia showed up. She was Mother's sister. An elegant, slim, but strong woman, who I'd only met four or five times before. She lived deep in Devon. I recalled that Mother had told me that at one time her sister had been a very promising Doctor but there was some trouble with a man, she'd had a breakdown, and gave her career up. She made a living from home now writing medical articles for newspapers, women's magazines and such like.

Aunt Julia had a bit of a distant demeanour like my Mother, but Aunt Julia's blue eyes seemed to soften a little at my grief. Although I'd catch her sometimes staring at me with quite an intent analytical look which made those cool blue eyes seem quite cold and unnerving.

Aunt Julia stayed at the house until the funeral was over. Other than Aunt Julia I barely knew a soul at the funeral, they were mostly professional friends of my parents. The day after the funeral Aunt Julia called me to Mother's old study which she seemed to have taken up residence in, sorting out all the many affairs which needed to be put in order. In typical Doctor's style she motioned for me to sit sideways on to her as she sat at the desk.

"Well young Pip" she said eyeing me up and down quite intently, if unconsciously, "It seems there's nobody but me to look after you now. I can't say I've much experience with young boys, however I'm sure we'll muddle along."

I sort of expected this. "Will we be staying here Aunt Julia", I asked more out of conversation than anything else.

"No Pip", she said, "You'll be coming back to Devon with me. You've not been back to school since...well.... since this all happened, I've rung the school and told them you won't be back at all. School breaks up for the Summer in five weeks, I don't think we'll get you into a new school until the Autumn now. It will give us a little time to get to know each other" she added with a brief smile.

"Yes, Aunt Julia", I said shyly.

"Aunt Julia sounds a little formal darling, I think from now on you'd better call me Auntie"

"Yes, Auntie". I answered with a smile. I wouldn't miss my present school one bit, and five extra weeks holiday was fantastic.

 

Chapter Two

The very next day I was with Aunt Julia, Auntie, in her old VW heading down to Devon. Other than my clothes I had just one case of personal possessions, and those were mostly books.

Deep into the Devon countryside, not far from Dartmoor, we reached the summit of a hill on a single track lane where in the distance a lovely old stone farmhouse came into view.

"Home", said Aunty smiling toward me.

We turned off onto a rather bumpy track, over a small wooden bridge, then crunching onto a gravel area in front of the house.

I got out of the car with Auntie, quite excited. How quiet it was, just the sound of our shoes on the gravel.

We stepped through the front door into a large hallway, beautifully, if delicately decorated in cool pastels, with a shiny checkerboard floor. The place was obviously a little grander than the average farm cottage. Auntie took me on a quick tour. The kitchen was huge, there was a beautiful lounge with tapestries and two 'squigy' sofas, a bright dining room with modern stained glass windows. I wasn't really used to such a showy display of country style. My parents for all their money saw a house as just somewhere to live. All the places we lived in were rented as furnished and neither Mother or Father felt the need to stamp their own identity on anything as prosaic as a house.

Auntie took me upstairs to show me my room. "It was my best guest room" she said, "guests will have to stay in one of the box rooms now".

The door opened to a large airy room, polished oak floorboards, a huge mirrored pine wardrobe, a pine dressing table with mirror, a huge walnut chest of drawers. A brass double bed, I'd never had a double bed before, with a lilac silk eiderdown which matched the rather frilly lilac curtains and blinds.

To be honest I didn't really notice the femininity of the room to begin with, it was the size and luxury of the place that I noticed. And this was going to be all mine. Auntie beamed at me and I smiled back.

It was getting quite late so we had a quick supper and I went to bed.

 

Chapter Three

I woke to the dawn chorus. Although I still had confused and very painful feelings about the loss of my parents, the beautiful airy room and the country sounds made it a bit more bearable.

I came downstairs to find Aunty already up, dressed more casually in grey slacks and a black polo neck jumper.

"Wash the supper things Pip", she said casually sorting through her mail, "then we'll have some breakfast."

"Oh....alright" I said a little surprised at the request.

I set to work at the sink. I had washed dishes before, but not often as generally we had a housekeeper.

Auntie came in as I was finishing. Casually she looked over one of the plates. "This isn't very good", she said very sharply, to my surprise, then as if catching herself she added in much warmer tones, "Well I'm sure you did your best".

"I normally just have cereal and tea for breakfast" she said.

"That's OK for me" I said trying hard to fit in.

"Be a dear and bring mine into the dining room, I've piles of mail to get through." She said now leaving the kitchen.

It wasn't quite the response I expected but I was keen to make a good impression. I struggled to locate everything and eventually came through to the dining room with a tray laden with tea, cereal, milk and so on. Auntie helped herself barely looking up from her mail. I sat opposite her eating quietly so as not to disturb her. Presently she tasted her tea and her face changed so suddenly I nearly choked on my cereal.

"This really isn't good enough", she burst out, those cold blue eyes aimed straight at me now. I felt myself colour up. She seemed to struggle with herself for an instant before adding much less hostilely, "you are not terribly domesticated are you?". I didn't answer. "Well...well there's opportunity to improve" she added with a brief smile.

I finished breakfast in silence. I washed the breakfast things without being asked, a little afraid of her tempers.

She announced that she'd be in her study until lunchtime and could I keep myself amused. This wasn't a problem. I wandered around the pleasant wooded garden for a while until a shower started. Then I went to the lounge to read.

Glancing up from my book I saw a figure on a bicycle wearing a sky blue cagoule heading leisurely down the track. The figure disappeared from site, then a few moments later I heard the front door open and shut. I wondered if I should go to the door. It wasn't my house and I was always embarrassed in front of strangers so I decide to stay put.

I'd just settled back into my book when the lounge door flew open. In came a beautiful girl, long black hair, tall slim, slightly olive skin, my age or older, munching quite tomboyishly on an apple.

Quite involuntarily I sort of sprang to attention. A momentary surprise passed over those big brown eyes, before they narrowed quite menacingly.

"Who are you?" she asked confidently, with a trace of Devon accent.

"I'm...P..P.. Pip, that's Ph..Philip Hall", I said flustered,

"Per, per, Pip", she said with an amused look of mischief on her face.

"I'm Aunty Jul...Aunty Julia's neph.." I said trying to recover but feeling myself colour up.

"Jule's nephew", she said cutting in. "Cool", she added casually, leaving the room just as suddenly as she had appeared.

I couldn't settle to my book after that.

 

Chapter Four

I soon learned that the beautiful girl was Estelle Singer. Aunt Julia told me that Estelle helps around the house. I can't say that I've seen her do much, but Auntie seems to like her around.

Fascinated as I am by Estelle I always feel a bit uncomfortable in her presence. I found myself, especially in those first few weeks, getting constantly tongue tied around her. She seemed to sense this and teased me very subtly, standing very close to me, or listening to me in mock rapt attention. Sometimes I thought she wasn't a very nice person but one smile and a mischievous look from those sparkling brown eyes and I'd just melt. I did sometimes feel like a PG Woodhouse character madly in love but unable to declare my feelings. Unfortunately I had no scheme to capture her attention, nor a clever Jeeves to help.

A few weeks passed by and things fell into a sort of routine. I made Aunt Julia's breakfast and lunch, cleaned up after her and myself. Aunt Julia prepared the main evening meal though I washed up again. Estelle's helping out seemed to involve mooching about the place in that languid catlike way of hers maybe picking up the odd paper, perhaps drying a few dishes whilst I washed if she was in the mood for toying with me.

Estelle was feline in many ways. She seemed to come and go like a cat. Sometimes she'd be around all day and all evening leaving late. Sometimes she'd stay just an hour. Sometimes she'd not come for two or three days. Though she often wore those chunky heels she could still creep in and suddenly turn up behind me. My confused surprise being a little amusement for her.

The beautiful Estelle's background was a little mysterious too. I gather she lived in the village a few miles away. She never spoke about her parents. Though she had a local accent she couldn't be too poor because her jeans were Diesel and Levi, and she had quite a few pairs. She seemed to have lots of tops and shoes, because she wore something different every day. Her cagoule was Berghaus, and her bike was expensive, with suspension, and looked very new. But other than that I knew little. If I ever asked her a direct question she'd tease and embarrass me and I learnt not to be quite so forward.

Aunt Julia and Estelle seemed close though rarely spoke much together in my presence. Though I often sensed that conversation ended if I were to interrupt them. I remember trying to ask Aunt Julia about Estelle, I didn't even know if she still went to school, but Auntie just told me to ask Estelle if I had a question about Estelle.

Something I did learn in those weeks was to beware of Auntie's tempers. I was very careful with anything I did for her, eager to avoid her quick temper. She was very exacting in how I washed up or cleaned, but fortunately I was a quick learner.

Temper's aside she was alright to me. I wasn't too hung up about doing a bit of housework. Other than reading I didn't have much else to fill up my time. I don't suppose I honestly felt loved, though I never had. I didn't particularly feel unloved either. Anyway Estelle was a constant fascination for me, a sort of unrequited love, or more just a crush I suppose.

No, the house was nice, Spring was turning to Summer, and my bit of Devon was beautiful.

 

Chapter Five

I think it was my second week there when I met Trisha and the boys.

I heard Auntie on the phone to her friend Trisha a few times, though I couldn't recall any mention of the boys.

Anyway one sunny day as I was at the sink washing breakfast things I heard Aunty greeting someone at the door. It couldn't be Estelle because she just slinks in and out as she likes. Then I heard another woman's voice.

The kitchen door opened first to Auntie, actually in a skirt, and more make up than the usual smudge of lipstick, then followed by what must be her friend Trisha. Trisha wasn't at all what I expected, a little plump, not fat really though, in a dark trouser suit, no make up, and quite short hair for a woman. Then to my surprise two rather sullen boys followed them, both about my age, one black haired, one brown haired, both a bit more athletic looking than me.

"This is my friend Patricia," said Aunty smiling, "And this is my nephew Philip she said motioning to me".

Patricia, or Trisha, smiled though a little coolly.

I felt myself colour as I saw the boys looking at this boy in the striped PVC apron Auntie insisted upon for washing up. I awkwardly fiddled trying to untie the damn thing adding to my fluster.

"Oh this is Simon", Aunt Julia said motioning a little half heartedly to the brown haired boy, "And this is Tim", she said motioning to the other boy. "Patricia's boys", she added in explanation.

The boys continued to stare. Finally I had the apron off and deposited it on a chair as nonchalantly as I could.

"Why don't you boys go out to play whilst Patricia and I have a nice gossip", said Aunty.

A little hesitantly I followed the skulking boys.

I followed them as silently they went to the end of the garden. They went behind a couple of large Sycamores and rested their backs on them.

Simon produced a pack of cigarettes, and rather expertly flicked out a couple of cigarettes passing one to his brother. He eyed me and motioned the pack towards me.

"I...I don't", I stumbled, instantly wishing I'd either accepted or at least turned them down whilst sounding a bit more cool.

Simon lit his and his brothers cigarettes and they both sighed with pleasure.

I felt, as some boys made me feel, a bit slight and insignificant in front of these obviously street wise young men.

"Must be a drag being stuck with your Aunt", said Tim in a mixture of London and Devon accents.

"It's...it's OK", I said as coolly as I could manage.

"Can't be worse than living with our cow of a Mother", added Simon. To which he and Tim both laughed silently.

I smiled trying to fit in.

The conversation continued, in Tim's dry monotone, occasionally broken by Simon's one liners.

I learnt that they were about the same age as me, and were twins, but not identical. Their Mum was divorced, and lived by 'sucking their father dry'. They'd moved down to Devon from London about six years ago, and hated it. Estelle, or Stella, as they called her was a 'stuck up bitch'.

They didn't stay long that first time. I was a bit unsure of them really, and in some ways I felt that they'd broken into my newfound quiet routine life. But they hadn't made fun of me which was something at least.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

Trisha and the boys were more regular visitors when the school holidays proper actually started. Coming about two or three times a week. Each time we were sent out 'to play'.

Still they didn't really make fun of me, and I tried hard to fit in. They were OK to me though Simon did let slip one day that their Mum had made it clear that they were not to be nasty to me. Even if they were being OK to me only because they were told to, it didn't bother me.

Estelle obviously didn't like the boys anymore than they liked her, and when they called her Stella she used to arch up unconsciously like a cat to a dog. Anyway when they were around she generally ignored them completely, hanging around with Auntie and Trisha. Even if Estelle only toyed with me when she was with me I did at least feel a bit flattered that she preferred my company to these two tough boys.

Our 'playing' most often consisted of the boys smoking and 'slagging off' their Mum, Estelle, and sometimes Aunt Julia.

I did try the occasional cigarette, but really they made me feel a bit sick. It was a bit of a struggle to look tough and cool.

Sometimes the subject was sex. I was amazed and a little embarrassed at my complete lack of experience when the boys told me they had had sex with so many girls. Both Tim and Simon agreed, though they hated Stella, they would both 'give her one'. Tim said he'd even give Aunt Julia one, but Simon wasn't so sure.

I perhaps made my most successful joke when I said I'd give their Mum one. The boys burst into uncontrollable hysteria, and Estelle was actually sent out to investigate what the commotion was all about. Of course we didn't tell her.

 

Chapter Seven

We were two weeks into the Summer holidays when things started to go wrong.

I was getting along with Auntie alright, even if I did spend a lot of time doing most of the housework, a little nervously sometimes, trying to keep up to her exacting standards. She was a bit cross and short with me sometimes, but generally I was left to do my own thing. Estelle still fascinated, and frightened me a bit, but I was still pleased that she preferred my company to Tim and Simon's.

So it was a rainy Tuesday and Tim, Simon and I were 'playing' in my room. When the boys were with me in the room I was a bit more conscious of it's femininity. I had tried to put a chart of the planets on the wall to make it a bit more mine but Aunt Julia made a big fuss about bluetack taking wallpaper off so she made me take it down. I put some of the rather girlish scatter cushions away in the wardrobe but they were back next day. I was also given a bit of a lecture from Auntie, in Estelle's gloating presence, about 'messing my room about'. So my room stays as it is.

Well there we were, a little bored. The boys couldn't smoke because Stella would snitch on them if she as much as caught a sniff at the door.

"God this is a depressing room", said Tim, looking around at the gaudy trappings.

"Looks like a tart's knickers" said Simon to our amusement.

"Talking of knickers," said Tim suddenly remembering something and reaching for his inside pocket. "There's more than just knickers here", he added conspiratorially pulling a rolled up magazine from his jacket. "Look what I've got" he said unfolding a crumpled copy of Playboy.

He uttered the usual threat for anything illicit in his possession, "Anyone pins this on me and they're dead!"

I'd heard of Playboy and 'porno mags', but I'd never actually seen one. Not that I admitted it. All that exposed flesh and glossy photos was a little shocking to my sheltered sensibilities, but fascinating at the same time. Women in their underwear, women showing their breasts, women showing more.

The boys slavered, and I tried to keep up, and hide the fact that I was seeing certain parts of the female anatomy for the very first time. I know I was fourteen and from a medical family but I only had a hazy perception of the sexual act as a whole. My odd nightly emissions were a bit of a concern and mystery to me.

Tim seemed to get very excited over Anya, a blonde Norwegian beauty. To my surprise though he suddenly said he wanted to go to the 'bog'. This seemed to amuse Simon. He wanted to take the magazine with him but Simon wouldn't have it, and called him a 'perv'.

Tim departed, and Simon took a closer look at Anya. Estelle's voice rang from the stairs. "Boys it's home time" she called in a slightly sarcastic singsong voice she seemed to reserve for Tim and Simon. "Come along now", she added her voice getting louder. She was obviously coming up the stairs.

Both Simon and I knew Estelle would burst into my room without a thought. Tim was convinced she was always trying to catch us smoking.

"Shit" said Simon. "Better get rid of this". Quickly he pushed the magazine under my mattress. Just in time too because Estelle did fly through the door.

"Don't you ever knock Stella?" said Simon.

"Pip doesn't mind. Do you Pip?" She said suddenly very sweetly. I said nothing being in something of a dilemma.

"Anyway", said Estelle eyes narrowing a little, you look a bit shifty Simon. Or should I say shiftier."

Tim entered now, looking a bit flushed. He looked from Estelle to Simon who gave his best 'couldn't care less' look to assure Tim the evidence was safely away.

Estelle's eyes narrowed again at Tim's lack of usual cool. Seeing nothing she could actually use against them she changed back to her original task. "Time for bye byes boys, Mommy's going now".

The boys trooped out as unhurriedly as they could and I followed. Estelle sniffed the air, for smoke perhaps, shook her head, and with a look of suspicion still on her face left the room with us.

 

Chapter Eight

That night I worried about the magazine under my mattress. On my own I was even more of a wimp than when I was with Tim and Simon. I daren't actually take the thing out of it's hiding place for fear of detection. I slept a little fitfully. All I wanted was the boys to come again and take the damn thing away.

In the morning I was a bit more collected. I assured myself that it was pretty safe where it was since only I made the beds. I sort of convinced myself that doing nothing about it until Tim and Simon returned was the best solution.

Collected though I was I did think even Auntie noticed I was a bit on edge. Still all went well. I slept a bit better the next night.

Next day I was washing the lunch things thinking it can't be long now before the boys come back. If it's sunny they'll be suspicious if we go to my room. I'll have to sneak the magazine out to them in the garden. I really didn't like the thought of that. Suddenly my thoughts were broken.

"Hello Pip! Busy I see".

I jumped out of my skin. Estelle was right behind me. The cutlery I was washing fell to the floor in a clatter.

"My my we are in a tizzy", she said in genuine surprise. Her 'sneaking up' wasn't usually this successful.

I flushed, and stammered, feeling quite a fool. Almost as if Estelle could have read my thoughts.

"I'm...I'm OK" I assured her finally collecting myself.

"You don't seem OK" she said, almost caringly.

"I'm alright", I said again, "you just surprised me that's all."

"If you say so. Is Trisha around, and those boys?"

"No, not yet anyway".

"They seemed even sneakier and even shiftier than usual the other day don't you think?"

"Can't say I noticed", I said as casually as I could manage.

"Mmmm," she answered unconvinced.

"Where's Jules?"

"In her study", I answered.

She glided off out of the kitchen.

About a hour later I was informed by Estelle that I was to go into the village to get a light bulb for Aunt's study. I could borrow Estelle's bike.

I couldn't believe my luck, this was a treat really. Estelle's bike was really top of the range. Even though it was a girl's version you couldn't really tell because the modern frame was cut out all over so it could just be the high tech design.

Ten minutes later I was whizzing along the bumpy lane.

Chapter Nine

It was probably three quarters of an hour before I was heading back down the lane. It was only a few miles to the village but I'd taken a bit of a detour to make the most of the opportunity to ride Estelle's terrific bike. I'd been careful in the shop though to get exactly the right bulb, I didn't want Auntie to get angry with me.

When I think back on it I should have expected red smoke from the chimney, or a siren, or something to warn me of what I was heading into. As it was the house looked quite normal. I carefully parked the bike by the front door, grabbed the bulb from the small sporty saddlebag and walked in.

I headed through the hall for Auntie's study. No Auntie, no Estelle. Unperturbed I tried the lounge, then the dining room. Still no-one. I was getting a bit concerned now. Next I tried the kitchen, no-one. This was very strange for this time of day. Auntie was nearly always in her study in the afternoon. And where was Estelle? She wouldn't leave without her bike.

I felt myself go a bit cold. I knew I had an overactive imagination so I tried to calm myself. Just go upstairs, I thought, go to my room and get that silly worry out of the way.

I went upstairs, still not a sound. I wanted to call out, but I didn't usually and I didn't want to draw attention to myself. I approached my room still thinking I was being stupid.

On opening the door I found Auntie and Estelle, both stony faced in the middle of the room. My heart rushed to my mouth. But maybe, just maybe it was something else going on.

"So the pervert returns to his lair", said Auntie coldly. I sort of couldn't believe my ears. I didn't want to.

"Nothing to say?" She added her cool blue eyes almost seeing through me.

"A...about what, Auntie", I answered in the lamest voice, instantly regretting such a predictable and guilty response.

"About this!" she cried, producing my sordid secret from behind her back with a flourish.

The game really was up. The rolled up magazine was waved in my face.

"To think I've been keeping such a monster in my own home! And to think that poor Estelle had to find such a disgusting....m....magazine if that's what you can call it." Auntie's face was scarlet, Estelle lowered her head.

I was crumbling now, I was speechless, and trembling. I wanted to blame it all on Tim and Simon, but I was too frightened. I wanted to say it was nothing whatsoever to do with me, that I'd never seen it, but I knew I was a terrible liar.

"Oh Auntie" was all I could say before bursting into tears.

"It's no good crying now", said Auntie, "You are not about to get mine or Estelle's sympathy....Get undressed and get to bed, it's a very early night for you, and no tea. We'll decide what to do in the morning. Come on Estelle, leave him to think about what he's done. I'm going to phone Trisha now and see what her boys have to say for themselves."

With that they departed.

In tears I undressed and got into my pajama's in a sort of trance, and got into bed.

If I thought my sleep was fitful with the magazine under my bed I hadn't anticipated the anguished afternoon and night I'd have now the magazine was found.

I relived every moment of discovery a hundred times. I wished so much that it was all a nightmare. I thought up elaborate excuses and elaborate apologies. I regretted my stupidity a thousand times. Why didn't I tell Tim to get rid of the damn thing the moment I saw it. What was I thinking of even looking at it in my own bedroom.

I was a bit fearful too. I'd had lots of bad words, and bad looks from Auntie, but I'd done nothing really wrong before. She has such a temper, but I'd never even seriously tested it before. Would she throw me out? She seemed very disgusted. I didn't want to go, it was alright here really. And where would I go anyway? In a home.... worse? My imagination knew no limits.

Morning came eventually. It was approaching eight o'clock. I usually started preparing breakfast then. I hesitated on the best course of action. Was I meant to stay in my room indefinitely? I wasn't sure but decided that I was safer getting up and making breakfast.

Downstairs there were a number of cups in the lounge, some with Auntie's coral lipstick on them, some with Estelle's plum lipstick, indicating that they'd been talking quite late into the evening. About me presumably.

I washed up feeling numb. I put everything out ready to make tea. I had the cereal and milk ready.

I waited.

I allowed myself just a glass of water. Missing tea was part of last night's penance, and I didn't want to risk Auntie's patience by having breakfast without permission.

I waited.

Finally Auntie came down. She looked calm and resolved. She neither acknowledged nor berated me as I rather nervously laid out her breakfast. I didn't hang around whilst she ate. I came back to the dining room after a while to collect the dishes.

"Sit down and wait, Estelle's coming. I'll sort the dishes later."

I sat. I'd sort of hoped that all I was in for was the silent treatment. This didn't look too good. We sat for what seemed ages, not a word passing.

I heard the front door, then Estelle came into the room carrying a sort of large rucksack holdall I hadn't seen before.

"Take a seat Estelle", said Auntie rather formally. Estelle dropped the bag down and sat by her.

Auntie's cool gaze now fell upon me.

"So we have a budding chauvinist in our mist?"

I wasn't quite sure what a chauvinist was, but coloured up under her stare anyway.

"I've spoken to Patricia, the boys say the magazine was yours. Is that not so?"

My mind was a whirl. Tim and Simon's threats went through my mind. I couldn't split on them. I was in for it anyway whatever I said.

"Yes". I said a little shakily.

"Mmmm. Well the boys were aware of the presence of such filth so they are far from blameless."

"Tell me, do you find women in their underwear attractive?"

I was stunned by the question.

"Well presumably you do, it's your magazine".

"Do you?" She suddenly shouted threatening.

"Y..yes" I answered hopefully for the best.

"I don't suppose you have the faintest idea of the consequences of pornography upon women do you".

"Well I..." I started hoping to say something which might please her, but her stare broke me down...."No" I said. She nodded knowingly.

"I didn't think so. I don't think you thought for a single minute".

"I was all for throwing you out last night but I've spoken to Patricia, and I've spoken to Estelle, and we believe you are redeemable."

"I'm sorry", I said, "I really am.."

"You will be sorry!" she said cutting me short.

"Now stop me if I'm wrong, but the way we see it is that your warped mind views women as weak vulnerable creatures. You delight in their skimpy restrictive clothing. You drool over a little lace, a little silk. You think a pretty made up face is their solely for your benefit, it's a sign of weakness, and like a bully you want control these silly weak creatures."

I wanted to say no that's not me but I could see that this was a lecture, not a question and answer session.

"We're so glad you like these silly, weak, feminine things, aren't we Estelle?" She said glancing over at Estelle with almost a smile on her face.

"You see we've devised a nice short sharp shock for you, almost poetic justice." She seemed almost pleased with herself, and began warming to the subject. "It's not just a punishment, and god knows you deserve that, it's instructive too, and hopefully it might make you see some things a little differently from now on."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Estelle almost smirking, and the slightly amused tone that had crept into Auntie's voice was a complete mystery to me.

"You see the nature of your lesson is that you are going to spend a week sharing the experience of these weak vulnerable creatures. We'll see if you feel the same way about their silly weak clothes and make up after that!" She said in explanation.

This still didn't register. It sounded so odd, and had I got it wrong anyway. What did 'sharing the experience' really mean.

"You may or may not be pleased to know that Patricia is arranging for her two delinquents to share a similar experience." She added a little grimly.

"But, I...." I started trying to clarify, before I was briskly interrupted.

"Now up to your room, straightaway!"

 

Chapter Ten

Almost automatically I marched up to my room, Auntie and Estelle following.

I stood a little awkwardly in my room, Auntie and Estelle eying me up. I noticed that Estelle had brought her bag up too. It sounds so silly now I look back on it now but I still really wasn't sure what was going on.

"You'd better get undressed", said Aunt Julia as if I was a little simple.

I hesitated a bit with them both looking on. Auntie's cold stare returned my questioning look, so I started to pull off my tee shirt. Aunt Julia motioned to my jeans, I took my trainers off, then my jeans.

"Socks too", she barked.

I was left in just my underpants feeling rather foolish. I daren't return Estelle's look.

"Go over and sit on the other side of the bed for a while. I'm sure Estelle doesn't want to look at you like that any more than she has to."

"You can sit with your back to us and contemplate your fate for a while whilst we sort some things out."

I did as I was bid.

"Empty the bag on the bed now Estelle, let's see what we've got".

I heard the bag empty, and Aunt Julia let out almost a giggle. It was only then that it really struck home that they meant to dress me up in some way.

"You've done very well Estelle." She said, "It's just as well you are similar sizes".

"It's just old stuff," said Estelle breaking her silence, "or stuff I don't like anymore".

"What about..er....underthings?"

"There's some stuff I've never worn."

"Oh...oh I see," she said some amusement in her voice.

"He's not having anything like that that I've worn", said Estelle with a little disgust.

"Oh no dear. No certainly not. Perhaps we'll go out this afternoon and get something for tomorrow."

"That'll be a laugh" said Estelle.

"Well there's quite a choice of outerwear anyway...where to start?"

"What about this and this", said Estelle helpfully.

"Oh Estelle..no", said Auntie laughingly, "Not today anyway."

"What about this...... and this" Auntie added, "That too, and on the feet................. No Estelle...... these I think".

"If you say", said Estelle casually.

"I think so dear."

"Be a dear and put the rest in my room for now, then I suppose we'd better get started".

Though not actually sure what was in store for me I already felt a bit teary, especially with the way they seemed to be anticipating my humiliation as though I wasn't there.

"Alright then there's no time like the present. You can come over here now boy".

I got up and walked over to her feeling naked and foolish. I tried not even to look at the pile of things on the bed. Estelle returned.

"I think you'll find that when I do something I do it thoroughly. Thanks to Estelle I think we can do a pretty thorough job. Hopefully you'll thank me later for what amounts to a little aversion therapy."

"Estelle pass me those briefs we'd better start there."

It was then I saw them, little red lacy things, one hundred per cent female. No surely not I thought.

"Not really me", said Estelle to Aunt Julia in explanation."A present".

"Who from?"

"Don't ask".

"Well whatever. Boy you'd better get those underpants off and on with these."

"But...but I'm a boy, you can't".

"Oh I'm sorry, I thought you liked these pretty sexy, weak little things. What a joy it will be to have your very own."

"Please don't Auntie..... I'm sorry ", despite myself a few tears slipped out.

"One way or another you are putting these on. You can delay, you can try not to cooperate, but test my temper and I'll parade you down Exeter High Street in them. And don't think I won't. On, now!"

In shame in front of Auntie and Estelle I slipped off my underpants trying the best I could to hide my manhood. Aunt Julia thrust the scrap of lace and nylon into my hand.

With an involuntary sigh and shudder I tried to get my feet into them. They seemed so tiny, too small. I struggled to get my feet through the leg openings.

"Oh don't be such a baby" Auntie said, taking over. She threaded the pants over my feet and briskly pulled the pants up my legs, over my thighs, and firmly up to my waist. I was surprised at how they slid up so easily, and how easily they stretched to fit.

I heard a barely suppressed giggle from Estelle, and I hung my head in shame.

"Bra Estelle, please". Said Aunt Julia spinning me around, my back to her now.

"This is quite a contraption Estelle."

"Oh it's a push up, not that I really need one. It's too small anyway...Though it might be a bit big for Pip."

Auntie actually sniggered, to my shame. "Now Estelle".

"Arms out....yes you...arms out".

"Please Auntie", I said in my most pleading voice, "I'm sorry it...it won't happen again."

"Well I won't ask again!"

The tears really started to flow now, I put out my arms. I saw white straps slipped over my hands and up my outstretched arms. Then the strangest sensation as I felt the bra firmly fastened at behind my back. Then Auntie started fussing with the straps. I started to heave a little in tears of self pity.

"Oh isn't the bra to your liking. Do you think women really like them? Do you think they really see them as an object of desire. When you've worn a bra from getting up in the morning until going to bed everyday, which you only have to do for a week, I think you might not find them too sexy."

"God Estelle I think we've even got a tiny bit of cleavage"

I wasn't even saw what cleavage was, but Estelle's amused response didn't sound too comforting.

"Those Wonderbras are extremely effective Jules.... even on a boy" she laughed.

"Turn around now." Auntie said, then looked me up and down with a sort of smirk on her face I'd never seen before.

My head down I repulsed at the sight of the red knickers, and was a little surprised at the pronounced white lace mounds at my chest. The tears had turned to a running nose now.

"Estelle a tissue before he spoils the things."

A tissue was thrust at me. I blew and gained a little relief, then came a second tissue and I blew again, now aware of the strange resistance of the bra straps as I raised my arms.

I stood pathetically in bra and pants the dirty tissues clutched in my hand not sure what to do with them. Aunt Julia with a little snort of annoyance passed the wastebin

and I dropped them in.

"I'm glad you are feeling some discomfort", she said coldly, "Perhaps there's hope for you yet".

"Right, sit on the bed and we'll get your tights on."

I was too exhausted now to argue, and sat on the bed.

"Estelle, please....thank you. I'm sorry we haven't got stockings like the poor weak creatures in your disgusting magazine, but I think you'll find tights restrictive enough. Look we've got you a nice new pair."

Through my tearful blur I saw her opening a packet with a picture of a lady in a short skirt and long legs on the front.

Soon black transparent nylon was being passed over one foot, then the other. It felt so clingy and strange. Then up my legs up to my thighs.

"Up now", came the curt command.

I stood up, and swiftly the tights were up my waist, thankfully masking the silly red knickers a little.

The tights felt so clingy and odd.

"Thanks Estelle" said Aunt Julia as Estelle passed her something. Kneeling in front of me again she opened what looked to be a skirt in front of my feet. Numbly I stepped in aware of the strange stretchiness of the tights. Up came the garment, blue pleated coming to just above my knees.

"Around" she said twirling me around quite firmly. I felt the waistband of the skirt tighten around me, then the zizz of a zip.

"Fits quite well", said Auntie spinning me back.

"Top please....Thanks......arms up"

She raised my arms for me anyway. I held them there whilst a garment was passed over my head and my arms were threaded through the arm holes. It seemed too small, but soon was over my neck and pulled down. I looked down to find myself in a clingy blue and white striped top, the two mounds of the silly bra still clearly visible.

"Sit on the bed again".

I moved to sit.

"No" she said holding me back by the hand, "Smooth your skirt first".

I hadn't a clue what she meant. She put her hand at the back of the skirt and flopped me down sliding her hand back in exasperation once I'd sat.

"There's a few little rules you will have to learn."

Now as helpless as the smallest child I looked on whilst she slipped onto my stockinged feet a pair of black wedged leather shoes like I'd seen girl's wear to school.

"These are a bit scruffy Estelle."

"Perhaps he can clean them."

"Now Estelle.....we'll see."

"Stand up now.....let's see what we've made of you."

I stood finding myself thrust forward by the shoes, and very ungainly.

"Yes they take some getting used to", said Auntie as I stumbled slightly, "though they've not really that much of a heel."

"Now", she said pulling me by the hand towards the wardrobe, "You'd better see what your foolish behaviour has done for you so far."

She rather roughly tilted my head up by the chin to look into the wardrobe mirror. Rather shocked I saw from the head down a girl in a clingy top, short skirt, and nyloned legs. From the neck up I saw myself, flushed, tearful, and miserable. The tears rushed again.

"Auntie, I'm so.... so sorry. I've learnt my lesson", I cried with such sincerity that I felt sure she's see I meant it.

"Huff", she said sharply, "Perverts don't learn that easily. Sit back on the bed and stop crying. There's tissues on the bedside table. We'll leave you for a while to sort yourself out, then we'll be back to do your make up. Oh yes make up too, just like the silly weak women in your magazine. And I've plenty of make up you'll see, not that I use it much. But Estelle's quite the expert, so aren't you lucky. We'll be back in an hour."

"And" she added very menacingly "Don't you dare touch a thread of those clothes".

With that Auntie quickly scooped up my own discarded things, and they both left.

Chapter Eleven

I tottered back to my bed, and just cried. I'd been such a fool. My clothes felt strange, restrictive, and screamed of my humiliation.

There's a time when even the tears stop, even if the misery doesn't. And they did stop after half a dozen tissues.

I looked down at my unfamiliar nyloned legs and tried to resolve myself to my fate. The magazine did demean women and maybe I deserved this. I would try to be strong. Just see it through the week. At least Tim and Simon were suffering the same fate, and they dropped me into this.

I resolved to cooperate as best I could, and just get it over with. Aunt Julia obviously wanted me to be ashamed of myself, and I was. Fighting her wasn't going to help me, and even though I already bitterly regretted having anything to do with the stupid magazine, she was obviously determined that I was going to see my lesson through.

I was however having some horrible thoughts about perhaps being forced to go out dressed like this which filled me with a sick feeling. I pushed these thoughts to the back of my mind as much as possible.

I heard Aunt Julia and Estelle in Auntie's bedroom, then five minutes later they came into my room clutching bottles and jars and things which they deposited on the pine dressing table.

Auntie looked at me coolly, and I looked back as bravely as I could.

"Have you calmed down now?"

"Yes", I said quietly.

"Well what we are doing now may seem cruel but it's best to get these misguided perceptions of women nipped very firmly in the bud." She said with a strong emphasis on the 'very firmly'.

"Go sit at the dresser."

I got up and walked to the dresser, still a little wobbly in the shoes, and unaccustomed to the strange feel of tights rubbing against the skirt. I sat at the little stool by the dresser which Estelle had moved to face her. She took a throw off the armchair and put it over the dresser mirror.

"Like the best makeovers we leave it all to a big surprise at the end" said Estelle.

"Honestly Estelle" said Auntie in mild disapproval.

Estelle then started to put a dark blue towel around me like a large bib.

"We don't want to spoil your pretty clothes now do we Pip." She said mockingly. "I think I've got a proper make up cape at home which I can bring next time."

"Estelle I'll leave you to get on, give me a shout when you are finished. I've still got my mail to get through thanks to all this. And Philip you'll do just what Estelle asks if you know what's good for you."

With that she left the room. I can't say that I felt any happier left in just Estelle's clutches.

"Your hair", she said eying me up and down like some kind of specimen. "Difficult, but perhaps just long enough to work on."

I hadn't had a haircut since I moved there so it was quite long for me, but not girlish long.

She started brushing and touching my hair which wasn't altogether unpleasant until she started with hairspray. She gave a look which said she was as satisfied as she could be.

"Alright, foundation first I think", she said picking up a tube. I sort of stiffened myself up for the onslaught. The cream was cold and oily as she rubbed it in all over my face.

"Eyes now I think," she said still eying me up impassively with those big brown eyes. "Now not a twitch now while I've got the eyeliner or I'll have your eye out!" She said sharply.

It was hard keeping your eyes open like she told me when a big pencil was looming up towards you. She tutted a lot but finally finished.

Next I think came eye shadow which seemed to take ages. The mascara which seemed to stick horribly to my lashes, and had to be done with my eyes open.

She seemed to have finished my eyes and started applying something called lipliner to my lips. It was like a pencil and seemed very odd. I sort of expected lipstick but she brushed something onto my lips instead, though I had to do that 'bite the tissue' thing I'd seen women do. It was so strange to see the pinky red lip outline on the tissue.

As Estelle carried on she sort of began to look at me in a different way, almost surprised which seemed odd. I just sat back and hoped it would all be over soon.

She was brushing something onto my face whilst I had to suck my cheeks in some embarrassing way she'd just demonstrated when Auntie came into the room.

She seemed even more surprised than Estelle when she looked at me.

"Oh I think that's enough now Estelle", she said with something of a slightly disapproving look towards her.

"What about nails", said Estelle holding out my hand.

"No, I don't think so Estelle. "She said still staring at me. "We'll save that if we get any lack of cooperation perhaps", she added as an afterthought.

"Cool", said Estelle in a 'couldn't care less' voice. "Can I show him?" She asked her, a little more livelier.

"If you want dear".

"Alright, pervert," she said, " Let's see what your dirty ways have done for you".

It was the first time Estelle had said anything directly nasty to me since the discovery and it hurt. I did feel dirty.

Anyway she pulled the towel from me revealing the silly clingy top, and the silly mounds formed by the bra. She motioned me around a little to face the mirror, and with a flourish whisked off it's cover.

I was confused, I couldn't see myself. A girl with smudgy dark eyes, clear skin, and glossy red lips looked back. It was only when I opened my mouth in shock and the girl did too that it sunk in that it could be me. The way she'd drawn my hair forward in a sort of a fringe, and well over my ears I didn't think it could be my hair.

I began to fill up a bit. It felt like she'd robbed me of myself.

Still numbed I felt her help me up to the full length mirror to "get the full effect".

I stood there completely robbed of my former self, the girl in the short skirt and stripy top, all made up. Completely girlish.

"Don't cry, you'll ruin your make up" she said sharply, then laughed at what she realised she'd said.

I fought very hard to hold back the tears and looked away from the mirror.

"Losing your fascination with all things weak, vulnerable, and feminine already?" Said Auntie in self satisfaction.

"I think we'd better all go downstairs now, and get lunch started. That's woman's work isn't it?" Said Aunt Julia.

Still in a daze I struggled down the stairs in the heeled shoes, the stretchiness, restrictiveness, and clinginess, of all the unfamiliar clothing reinforcing my humiliation at every step.

  

  

  

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