Rhonda Wagram

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Rhonda Wagram
The

Amazing Story of a Boy Turned Girl
Suddenly the carriage stopped and Aunt Margaret asked him to
help her down, which he hastened to do, swearing at himself that he was so
clumsy not to have thought of it himself. They entered a small store, so at least
it appeared that way from the outside. Inside it opened to a large salon,
equipped with beautiful antique furniture and a wealth of oriental carpets,
lighted by shaded gas jets everywhere. One wall was almost entirely covered with
the finest crystal mirrors, and more mirrors in golden stucco frames mounted on
little wheels were around everywhere. Two or three groups of deeply upholstered
armchairs were arranged around marble-topped tables covered with fashion plates
and magazines.
Aunt Margaret was greeted effusively by Madame Heloise, the
store owner. She introduced him as her nephew who had just arrived from the
province.
»You will best sit down someplace and read something, this may
take a while. Do you want something to drink? I am sure Madame Heloise can
arrange something for you.«
»Of course,« Madame Heloise volunteered, »what do you want,
coffee or tea or some juice?«
»If you don't mind, I would prefer a cup of tea.«
»Of course not, Suzanne, get the young gentleman some tea
please,« she called to her help.
The two women were soon deeply involved in a discussion of the
design and material of new dresses that Margaret wanted to have made while he
had settled down in one of the large easy chairs and thumbed through a fashion
magazine from Paris. He was fascinated by the women in the elegant new fashions.
The next thing he noticed was a cataract of hot tea gushing
down over him. He yelped and jumped up. Suzanne in bringing him the tea had
evidently caught one foot in the fold of a carpet and stumbled, falling all over
him with the full cup and kettle. Madame Heloise came rushing to the scene,
chiding Suzanne for her clumsiness. However, his best suit was soaked like a
sponge with tea, and he felt the fluid soak through to his skin.
»Quick, undress yourself and give the clothes to Suzanne. If
they are not cleaned at once, the tea stains will remain forever – I am awfully
sorry, such a clumsy girl,« and turning to her »quick, help the gentleman and
clean his things, couldn't you watch out where you walked, imbecile,« and to him
again »go behind this screen to undress, I'll try and find something for you to
cover yourself. Give everything that is stained to Suzanne, she will clean it.«

She turned to Margaret: »I am so sorry to cause such an
inconvenience to your escort, Frau Baronin, but I'll do my best to have the
things all cleaned and pressed in no time at all.«
Margaret – after Jean-Marie had disappeared behind the screen
– could hardly contain herself. She almost burst from laughing. It all had gone
so smoothly, and without any rehearsal, too. Madame Heloise, when she had told
her of her plans, had just said »Leave everything to me, I guarantee you that I
shall have him completely undressed and without his clothes within five minutes
after you come in and then we shall be able to do with him whatever we choose.«

Suzanne, Margaret thought, was priceless: no actress could
have played her role more precisely and to the point.
»Here, take this dressing gown for the moment. I am awfully
sorry, but I don't have any male clothes here. You see, I am dealing in ladies
fashions exclusively. And when you are dressed, please make yourself comfortable
over there. Suzanne will clean the mess at your table as soon as she finishes
with your suit and shirt.«
With this, she handed him a silken dressing gown behind the
screen. He was reluctant to put it on at first, it being so utterly feminine
with the tulle ruffles around the neck and the bottom and at the wrists. But
there really was nothing else available and he couldn't remain stark naked
behind the screen all the time. A shiver finally persuaded him to put on the
strange garment. It was a tight fit around his waist and his stomach was well
held in after he buttoned the seemingly endless row of little round buttons from
his neck to his ankles, but otherwise it was a perfect fit for him.
He was glad that he had the tall screen to hide behind. He did
not want anybody to see his secret: During puberty, instead of growing a beard,
his nipples had grown and puffed out somehow like a girl's immature breasts. His
voice had not really cracked to a deep male register. It had changed but more
than deepened, it had gathered strength and volume. It was – in musical terms –
something between a tenor and a contra-tenor. All of this had led to terrible
teasing at the school and he did not want to be ridiculed by complete strangers
even before he had had a chance to talk to his aunt about it.
When he emerged reluctantly from behind the screen, he was
greeted by »oohs« and »aahs« from Madame Heloise as well as from Aunt Margaret.
»You look great in it my dear,« Aunt Margaret stated with a
tone of genuine admiration.
»You shouldn't walk barefoot here, there may still be some
fragments of glass buried in the carpet from a champagne glass that a client
broke here last week, put on these mules, I think they will fit you.«
Before he could find an answer she had already knelt down and
put a pair of embroidered mules with two inch heels on his feet, making him
totter a little bit. »Do me a favor and come over here, please, I want to have a
look at this gown.« Margaret waved her gloved hand at him.
»Madame Heloise, you have never shown this to me. I find this
design very intriguing, the full skirt with just the hint of a train, it looks
wonderful. Please, Jean-Marie, walk over to the far side again and come back to
me, I want to see how it looks in motion. --- Not so fast, you are not on a
sports track now, take smaller steps, in a gown like this you should glide, not
stomp through the room. Do it again please.«
He did not know what to think or feel, his mind was suddenly
absolutely empty, he was all skin, feeling the slithering, rustling material
against it, sending peculiar sensations up and down his spine. Automatically he
followed Margaret's instructions. It was not until he had walked the entire
length of the salon for about the fourth time that he became conscious of his
image in the mirrors on the wall, and what he saw did not agree with the picture
he'd had of himself before. He saw a girl. Well, it was a girl with a peculiar
hairdo, but there was a girl, all right. The tulle ruffles high around his neck
disguised the missing hair at the sides to a degree and with the slim waist and
the full skirt there could not be the slightest doubt that the figure reflected
in the mirror belonged to a girl.
He was completely at a loss for what to do or what to say. One
part of him wanted to hide in a mouse hole, another part of him told him to act
naturally, as if there really wasn't anything to it, just as if he just had
something on to cover himself. But most disturbing of all, somewhere deep within
him a cord had been struck that reverberated and sent strange new feelings
through him, feelings that he had never known before. Pleasant feelings, he had
to concede, reluctantly.
He finally shook this off and managed to sit down in a chair
just as Suzanne reappeared, announcing that the stains were all gone and she had
put the things out to dry a little before she could press them. She acted as if
nothing unusual was around and busied herself cleaning the mess from the table,
the chair and the carpets. He tried again to concentrate on his reading, but his
mind was constantly distracted by the feeling of the silk against his skin. He
even began to make secret little moves to feel the silk slither over his skin
again.
Aunt Margaret and Madame Heloise had gone back to their
discussion and he heard with half an ear Madame Heloise explain to the "Frau
Baronin", that the gown had been made to order for that Italian girl, that
dancer at the opera that suddenly had to leave Berlin after that scandal with
the Russian duke and now Madame Heloise was left with that gown and actually a
complete new wardrobe for her on which the duke had only made a small
down-payment and of course, now that neither of them remained in Berlin, she had
no hope to collect the rest, resulting in a heavy loss for her, because of
course, all the dresses, coats, even the lingerie had been made to measure
and there were not many young girls in Berlin, who could afford to buy at Madame
Heloise's and she could not organize a sale, as this could ruin her standing in
the fashion world etc. etc.
She was still rambling about her big loss while pinning a
dress on the "Frau Baronin," when suddenly Suzanne reappeared, hurried to Madame
Heloise with a crestfallen expression on her face and whispered something into
her ear. Madame Heloise reacted suddenly with a hard slap to the girl's face and
sent her out with a flood of harsh words in French.
»Frau Baronin, I am desolate, more, I am completely desperate.
I do not know how to tell you. That stupid girl has put the shirt and the
underthings of the young gentleman on the window sill to dry and the vest, coat
and trousers on hangers and hung them into the open window and while she
was here with us, some thief must have come to our backyard and helped himself
to a complete wardrobe. Anyway, everything is gone and I do not know what to say
and how to excuse the girl.«
»Well, that should not be such a big problem. I am sure
Suzanne meant well and it really is not her fault. I was going to get some new
things for him anyway and that suit really was not a thing that Beau Brummell
would have cared to wear. Why don't you send out Suzanne to buy something that
will tide him over until he gets his trunk from the station and I can really get
him some decent suits? Here, take some money.«
»I am awfully sorry, but I think this is no solution to our
problem: look, all the stores have closed about half an hour ago and there is no
store with ready-to-wear men's fashions around here anywhere where I know the
owner well enough to be able to persuade him to open the store for us.«
»Well then, we seem to be in a sort of fix. I had not realized
that it was that late already. And that makes it worse, because now I have to
hurry. I have a box at the opera tonight and I can't be late, as friends
will be waiting for me there. Hmm — I have an idea! You just said you had a
complete wardrobe ready for that Italian dancer. He is wearing her dressing-gown
now and it fits him. Why not dress him in something suitable so he can go
outside and I shall take him home as a girl. He already looks like one in only
the dressing-gown. That's it, that's what we shall do. Suzanne! Suzanne, come
here and help us. You caused all this trouble, so you shall act as his ladies'
maid and help him to dress.«
He tried to protest that he was certainly not going to go out
dressed as a girl. But it had the same effect on the three women as if he had
talked to the wall. They were so busy selecting things from cartons and racks,
discussing the pros and cons of certain items, that they did not listen to him
at all. Aunt Margaret only turned once to him and asked, »Well, what other
suggestion do you have?«
Before he could catch his breath and gather his wits to make
one, she continued, »Well, evidently you do not have any. All right, then it is
settled: you will come with me dressed as a girl.«
Suzanne suddenly proceeded to strip him of his dressing-gown
quite unceremoniously and in a manner that permitted no protests. He tried to
cover himself with his hands, but he was no match for the three women who
handled him like a puppet. Luckily, they did not react at all to the twin
prominences adorning his chest.
First, they slipped a vest of the finest cambric over him.
Aunt Margaret then took his hands and held them, while Suzanne and Madame
Heloise clasped a corset around his waist, closed the hooks in front and started
lacing it. He only hoped they would finish quickly and leave him alone. However,
that was still far away, and he had quite another problem to deal with. He did
not know what caused it, the deft touches of the women or the feeling of the
soft material or the sudden mounting constriction about his waist, but his manly
tool chose this worst imaginable moment to raise its head and lift up the hem of
the vest. Suzanne was the first to notice it.
»Look who is getting curious, le petit monsieur wants to see
what is going on. But unfortunately we have absolutely no use for you at this
time.«
He prayed that it would just shrink away. But on the contrary,
it stood up like a barge pole and everybody around could get a good look at it.

»A very fine specimen indeed,« commented Madame Heloise, »but
this is no time for play. Suzanne, squeeze it under the tip of the corset busk,
then get the strap and fasten it in front and pass it to me under the body.«
Suzanne did as she was told, seemingly with reluctance and not
without giving the shaft a few soft strokes before she fastened a strong satin
ribbon about two inches wide to the corset in front and took the other end
between his legs to the back, where Madame Heloise fastened it to another buckle
at the back of the corset.
He felt harnessed, but when he looked down, his front was flat
and no sign of his manhood could be detected. He was relieved a bit, at least he
was decently covered now – or was he? Wearing a vest and a corset? Madame
Heloise reminded him of the corset immediately as she restarted the lacing with
fresh vigor. He wanted to break away, putting an end to the ordeal, but Suzanne
had circled his legs with her arms, Aunt Margaret held his hands in an iron grip
and Madame Heloise drew at the laces with a power of which he had not imagined
her to be capable.
»Please stop it, you are cutting me in half, I shall
suffocate, I cant breathe,« he wailed, but to now avail.
»Listen, young man, don't complain about a little lacing. This
is what we girls have to endure every day to look pretty for you men.« Madame
Heloise went over the laces from top and bottom to the middle again, taking out
another foot or two of laces.
»But it is too tight for me, how can you know how much you can
lace me down, you didn't even measure me before.«
»Experience, my dear boy. And by the way, the dressing-gown
fit you and this was meant to be worn without a corset by the same girl whose
dress you will be wearing and the dress will only fit if I close the corset to
about an inch. And if she, a frail and weak girl, would have been able to stand
being laced down to this dimension, I can see no reason why a strong and brave
young man should not be able to endure it. So stop complaining and move your
body a little bit, it'll help you and me. I will be done in a minute – only
another inch and a half. Altogether you will not be taken in more than five
inches at the most. But if you insist, I can of course close it completely.«

»Oh no, please stop! I feel as if I am going to faint any
second now.« He was already very subdued and could only beg.
»Just a little bit more, my darling,« Aunt Margaret soothed
him, and the magic word "darling" from her gave him new strength.
»Look, it has to be done, otherwise the dress won't fit and if
you have to be a girl, I want you to be a pretty one. You will get used to it in
a few minutes. The body adjusts very quickly, you will see.«
Finally Madame Heloise was satisfied and he was released from
the grip of Aunt Margaret and Suzanne. When they stepped away from him, he
caught a look of himself in the big mirror and had to admit, that the corset did
wonders for him – he had a marvelous girlish figure now.
Not only was his waist minimized, he realized that the top of
the corset gave him a very realistic bosom and that his backside protruded
enticingly.
»Don't fall in love with yourself,« Madame Heloise interrupted
his thoughts, »we are not finished yet.« She beckoned him to sit down. He did so
very slowly to avoid any surprises caused by the tight corset. He noticed he
could only sit very straight: the corset did not allow any slouching. Suzanne
brought a pair of the finest black gauze stockings that she rolled up his legs
and fastened to garter straps hanging down from the corset. After that Suzanne
brought him a pair of drawers, like the vest, of the finest cambric.
»Hold it a second,« said Margaret, vetoing Suzanne's moves to
put them on him. »I may sound overly conservative to you, but in my opinion
drawers, pantaloons, knickers or whatever you may call them are not suitable for
a young girl. They are basically masculine items and young girls should not even
think about masculine underpants, much less wear anything that is even remotely
similar. I know there is a new trend set by rather audacious young women to do
away with these traditions and maybe they'll win ultimately, because these items
can be very practical in cold weather – however it is not freezing out there
today and I am basically against young girls wearing male underpants, even if
they are as nice looking as these.«
»You are absolutely right, Frau Baronin, I couldn't agree with
you more,« Madame Heloise seconded Aunt Margaret's move. »However, if there is
this modern trend, I have to be able to supply what is wanted by my customers.
But of course we shall leave them out. Suzanne, bring the petticoats.«
Suzanne brought two, one silk, that was very tight around his
thighs and allowed very little leg movement. Below the knees it flared a little
bit but still allowed only very small steps. Over it came a rustling taffeta
petticoat, that had two rows of wide flounces at its bottom. Finally, the dress.
It was of light blue taffeta with thick embroidery on the bodice, narrowing
toward the small waist. It had a tight and high collar, which was kept up by
small stays under the ears. It held his neck very stiff and high. The sleeves
were long and tight but were puffed slightly at the shoulders and repeated the
embroidered ornaments of the bodice.
The bodice closely followed the lines of his body – or rather
the lines the corset had created – tightly over his bosom and the narrow waist.
The skirt accented the hips and the posterior. At its hem, the motif of the
embroidery was again repeated all around. It stopped on the floor in front and
made him wonder how he would walk in it, as it obviously was too long in front.
Finally, Suzanne put a pair of small, medium blue, high heeled
boots on him, which reached almost to his calves, buttoning them on tightly with
the help of a button-hook. When he saw the terrible height of the heels, he was
sure he would not be able to stand in them, much less walk. After Suzanne had
helped him up, however, he was surprised to notice that the skirt came just off
the floor and he could walk indeed. Well, not like anything he had called
walking before, but he could move around in small mincing steps.
The corset, the tight skirts and the high heels all worked
together, making him move in a way entirely different from anything he had done
before. He couldn't just swing his legs from the hips down, he had to move his
entire body from the waist, undulating his hips in rhythm with his thighs. The
fact that he stood almost on tip-toes prohibited his falling from one foot to
the other with every step in the way most men walk. Instead, he was forced to
keep his legs straight and close together and take small steps. He actually was
gliding
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