Who The F--K Is Alice? free porn video

Hello, Little Miss. This is the first in what I'm going to call my "Little Miss" selection. They are stories I've written over the years which, for reasons of embarrassment at having written so many stores of a (fairly) similar ilk, and also that I was never particularly happy with them as a whole, I didn't publish. Then I thought, get over yourself! Who cares? You're not Dickens, King or some famous high-brow author (the ones I pretend I've read) and never will be. There may be some misspellings and missing words for which I apologise. Proof reading is NOTT my forte. Perhaps it's the terrible, horrible, frightening world we're living in which has me feeling this way, but I've also concluded that - some - may enjoy these ramblings (there are fun little moments, I think) and anything which can divert us in these times, if for only a half an hour, must only be a good thing. Right? So, get yourself a glass of wine - if you can bloody find any at the supermarket - curl up, and have a read. I just hope you enjoy stories of males being turned into little girls. If not, as they say on the news, before Match of the Day, when sport was still you know, a thing, you should "look away now'. Now, all together - WHO THE FUCK IS ALICE? Love, and stay safe. KT Pel xxx WHO THE F--K IS ALICE?? I was already of angry mind on the morning Gertie and Alice rushed into my new bedroom, each holding a pile of unfamiliar clothes. The main source of my anger, aside from the general loss of status I seemed to have been experiencing since Alice had arrived, was the decision taken the previous evening that I'd no longer be sleeping in the master bedroom with Gertie, but rather moving to one of the spare, single bedrooms in the east wing, normally home to infrequent guests and their children. I had fought the decision of course, but like most occasions recently when I'd attempted to thwart Alice's influence it was altogether a most futile endeavour, the two women simply whisking me along to comply with their wishes like a piece of detritus picked up by a gust of wind. "Is little Harry awake?" Alice said, in a most ridiculous voice. She even had the nerve to sit on the bed, her sharp perfume overpowering my nostrils and her smart polyester trouser suit making an almost creaking noise as it rubbed against the bedding. She was fully dressed for the day already - her hair already tied up in the unfussy way she preferred, her make-up understated but just visible. "What on earth is going on?" I croaked, watching as Gertie, also dressed for the day in her green and black tea-dress, started hanging the clothing on the wardrobe opposite, her heels clinking against the floor. "I'll tell you exactly what, little Harry. Gertie and I think it's high time you stopped swanning around the estate like a big, tough man, when it's clear you possess neither the intelligence nor the strength of character to manage such a job," Alice said, a grin forming on her glossed lips. "I'm also not fond of the way you speak to the maids or the garden boys. A rude word is better left unsaid - don't you remember Daddy telling us that?" "I'll speak to the silly maids and stupid garden boys in any fashion I please Alice! I'm the head of this estate now in-case you'd forgotten, and sometimes a tough word or too is completely necessary." "Was it really necessary to make poor Katie cry yesterday?" Gertie said, shaking her head. "All the girl did was bring you slightly the wrong type of whiskey. Hardly worth the terrible names you called her." Alice joined in with the head shaking. "Or Rose the day before that? Simply for missing the tiniest bit of dust in your library? Or Leonard the day before that for being too loud while he was pruning the azaleas?" The clothes on wardrobe were coming into closer focus now and a breath caught in my throat as their full horror was revealed. "Oh look Gertie, he's just realised what his adorable little outfit is going to be today! How sweet!" "You can't...." I stammered. "I mean....you wouldn't dare!" I fought as manfully as I could, but it felt like there was little I could do in the face of two clearly stronger and more powerful women. That Alice could restrain me physically was no surprise - she'd done so many times growing up, always in front of girl cousins or in other suitably embarrassing situations, but I was shocked to find the ease with which Gertie, my plump, girlish wife in her knee length tea dress, could manhandle me, which she did while Alice forcibly brushed my teeth and washed me with a damp flannel, before the women swapped positions to leave Gertie dressing me in the humiliating outfit. "We won't be needing those men's clothes anymore," Alice whispered in my ear, nodding toward the direction of the tweed jacket and tartan trousers I'd prepared for the day, "not until we feel you've learned your lesson anyway." I could do little but close my eyes and wish I was somewhere else as I first felt Gertie run a pair of soft cotton underpants up over my legs and around my waist, and then shudder as the even softer white shirt wrapped around my torso and closed slowly as Gertie attended to the fiddly buttons, her long brown hair tickling my face as she leaned in as close as she could. Next came the shorts, which felt far too tight and seemed to cover only the minimum amount of thigh that was reasonable, and then a pair of frilled socks which started to tickle my ankles as soon as they were in place. "Take a look at yourself now Harry," Alice said, pushing me in-front of the floor length mirror, "don't you look like such a sweetie-pie? Isn't that what Mummy used to call you when you were little, hey? Her little sweetie-pie? Her little cream-puff?" The reflection made my head spin. Flanked by two taller women on either side, the pathetic figure between them was dressed in a baby blue little boy's sailor suit, complete with floppy bow on the chest of the shirt and a row of lace on the waistband of the shorts, as well as a pair of perfectly white buckle up shoes and a pointed blue hat which sat awkwardly atop his curly blond hair. The clothes were intended for a boy of no more than infant school age, and I could barely fathom how I'd come to be dressed in them. "I won't wear this!" I cried, the full reality of the situation suddenly dawning on me as I began to paw at the small buttons on the shirt, only for Alice to swipe my hand away. "You certainly will, Master Harry," she said. "In fact, you'll be wearing exactly you're told until we feel you've suitable learned your lesson. And the lesson is one of humility and appreciation, which should come more easily to you given your new status in the house." But another glance down at the boyish shorts, clingingly to my legs so tightly that they pinched against my thighs, sent me into another struggle, this time pulling clear of Alice's grasp for a moment and running over to the other side of the room, where I picked up my blazer and trousers and held them against my chest, "I'm putting these on now," I said, throwing the sailor hat on the floor, "there's been quite too much nonsense in this house over the last few days and it must stop!" A further struggle ensued as Alice stomped across the room and started to tear my adult clothes from my hands, before Gertie tried once more to pull my hands behind my back. "No!" I raged, pulling away again, mindful of the childish scene I was creating, one of a boy in a sailor suit having a temper tantrum, but past caring, "give me my clothes back!" At this point the smile on Alice's face disappeared, bringing back memories of the moody little sister who'd so terribly plighted my childhood as she stared coldly at me for a moment, before she launched herself across the room and wrapped her long arms around my waist. "What are you doing!" I cried, as she hoisted me into the air, my body pressed firmly against her chest and my feet suddenly left dangling against her shins. With one hand now against my back and the other cradling my backside, she carried me over to the bed and threw me down upon it, pinning me down and then hovering above me so that her face was only inches from mine. "That's quite enough now," she hissed, "I had a feeling you might not be co-operative, so I made sure we had a back up." She had Gertie pass her a bag from just outside the door, and keeping me pinned down by pushing her legs against mine she started to reveal its contents, "if you keep kicking up such a silly fuss you'll find yourself in this instead. You think it'll be embarrassing wearing the kind of clothes you wore when you were a little boy, do you? Well, think how embarrassing it'll be to wear the kind of clothes I wore as a little girl then." Her grin returning, she held out another sailor suit only this one with pink trim rather than blue, and with the shorts replaced by a pleated skirt. "You've gone completely mad!" I hissed. I could indeed remember Alice wearing a pink version of my sailor suits. She'd always complain about it and ask to wear a blue sailor suit like mine, her mannish tendencies already clear to see from a young age. Still unable to move, I could only throw out empty sounding threats as Alice took the skirt and laid it atop my shorts. "Look Gertie, don't look that terribly cute?" "Oh Alice, you're so naughty," Gertie replied, "see how red he's gone." "So what'll it be," Alice said, her face hovering over mine again, "do you want to be Harry today, and wear your little boy's sailor suit, or do you need to be Harriet, and wear your little GIRL'S sailor suit?" "Alice, for crying out loud!" I whined, indeed incredibly embarrassed to feel the pleated skirt against my bare legs, especially with Gertie looking on. I'd never worn women's, or girl's, clothing before, and the touch seemed somehow alien, as though the garment was made from a different fabric altogether. In hindsight, I think it was more to do with the skirt somehow incapsulating a life time of feeling of inadequacy and doubt, and how on some level, a level buried deep under years of bluster and external bullishness, I wondered if I really did deserve to be dressed in a pretty skirt, given my shortcomings. Most of all though, I hated myself for how this latest threat, coupled with how Alice hovered over me in such a dominating fashion, left me feeling more than a little aroused. So now, as well as feeling completely humiliated, I had to deal with hoping no-one would notice the straining against my underpants, and in turn, through the little pair of shorts. It made me glad for the skirt being layered on top, and needing to stall her for a moment until I could bring myself back to normality. "Alice, this isn't fair," I whimpered. "Shorts or skirt, Harry?" "Can't you just let me have my trousers back?" "Not an option." "I'm sorry for being rude to the girls, and to the garden boys, and to Gertie." The realisation that I might actually have to wear one of the horrible garments was sinking in now. What would Katie think? Or Rose? They were pretty girls, especially once in their uniforms, and I'd been hoping to find a way of using my position in other ways with them as I know Father had often done with pretty young maids. That was hardly likely to happen now after they'd seen me wearing such a preposterous and infantile outfit. And what about the garden boys? They all towered over me already - most of them being over 6 foot and as wide as some of the trees they had to cut back - and the minimal respect I'd manage to garner from them would certainly evaporate in seconds. "You know what Gertie? I can only think that Harry quite fancies the idea of wearing the girl's outfit, don't you? I can't see why he'd be taking so long to answer otherwise? Do you have the socks there? And those adorable matching knickers?" "Wait....no....." I said, my arousal finally under control now, "I'll wear the boy's outfit, I promise." "And you won't try to take it off again?" I shook my head and closed my eyes, hoping to avoid Gertie's stare and Alice's grin. "So, you'll be a good little boy for us? Won't cause any trouble?" I nodded. "Well say it then." "I'll be a good boy." "No. Say you'll be a good little boy." "I'll be a good little boy." What the hell had happened to me? "Very well. Oh, and a couple more things. Do you remember the rules of childhood in the house? You're to call all the maids 'ma'am', and all the garden boys 'sir', understood? As well as that, if either of us ask you a question you're to answer it either 'yes Mummy' or 'no Mummy'." She obviously clocked the confused look on my face. "Yes, even me. It'll help remind you of your punishment. And don't forget that Lucien is arriving later." I hadn't seen Lucien since the wedding, and though I knew him to be a short and weak thing like me, I still felt a pang of embarrassment at the thought of him seeing me so dressed. The next few hours were terrible as Alice and Gertie led me merrily around the estate, commanding me to follow them around as they attended to the "grown up" matters of the household. They gave me a toy solider to carry, one from my old toybox which now resided in one of the storage sheds, and had me chirp "morning ma'am" or "morning sir" to every passing member of the staff. Most laughed and clasped a hand to their mouth as Alice explained the reason for my appearance, and many offered their support for the punishment, especially those I'd taken a tough line with recently. "It makes him look so diddy," Florence, the head maid remarked, "and I just love that little suit." She even had the audacity to pinch my cheek, which made Alice exude one of her dark laughs. Worse came later when, on an inspection of the master bedroom, a room which had been my own until just 24 hours previously, we stumbled upon Katie and Rose making the bed, the pair of them whispering quietly amongst themselves until they realised we'd walked in, at which point they averted their eyes down to the ground, their cheeks turning as red as the drapes on the windows. "It's OK girls, you can relax," Alice said, "we just thought you'd like a chance to say meet master Harry here, now that he's gone back to being the little boy he deserves to be. Harry, what do you say to the ladies?" By the point the humiliation was almost too much to stand as I found myself pushed in-front of the girls by Alice, the cool air in the room causing goose-bumps to appear on my bare legs. I had approved the hiring of both the girls, mostly for their good looks and seemingly pliant nature, but that felt a long time ago now as I cowered in-front of them, feeling every inch a child in the presence of grown-ups. "Good morning ma'am," I said to Katie, before turning to Rose and saying the same. Clearly neither girl knew how to react, at least until Alice stepped in. "It's OK girls, please don't think of him as your boss any longer. Gertie and I are going to be running the house for the foreseeable future. In fact, listen to this. Harry, are you a good boy?" I saw the girls glance at each other in a confused fashion as Alice stared intently at me, waiting for the pre-arranged answer, which was to squeak, "yes, Mummy," in the fashion of the young boy I was dressed like. But looking at Rose, and especially Katie, girls ten years younger than me and of far lower birth, I found it impossible to say the words. "What's the matter Harry?" Alice said. "Cat got your tongue? I'm going to lose my patience very shortly if you don't answer!" As well as Katie and Rose, it was hard not to look at Gertie, who was standing behind Alice and shuffling nervously on the spot in the way she did when she was nervous. Clearly Alice hadn't yet knocked the submissiveness completely out of my bashful, girlish wife. In that moment, the idea of calling my younger sister "Mummy", and of doing it in a high-pitched little boy's voice, seemed completely unpalatable. Alice's eyes narrowed as I remained silent. "Harry, come along now. You've been good until now." "Alice, maybe we should move on," Gertie said softly, "you know, let the girls get on with their work." This was entirely the wrong thing for Gertie to say and only served to increase the look of anger on Alice's sharply featured face. "No. Harry needs to learn to do as he's told at all times." With that, and before I could barely fathom what was happening, she grabbed me firmly around the waist and pulled me into her body in such a way that I could feel her breasts push against the back of my shoulders, before one hand slipped down to the waistband of my shorts and proceeded to pull them down. "What are you doing!" I yelled, struggling as manfully as I could manage, but finding myself held in place completely by her outrageously strong grasp. "Teaching you a lesson, just like Father would have," she replied wheezily, as I found my tiny pair of underpants pulled down to around my ankles, leaving my bottom half completely exposed to all in the room, before being dragged over to the bed, a bed in which I'd been sleeping with Gertie as recently as two nights before, and somehow pulled across her lap, my head left staring at the trousers of her suit and my legs dangling off the other side, kicking furiously to try and release myself from the most humiliating of positions. It became much worse as Alice landed a row of firm smacks onto my bare bottom, each increasingly in ferocity as I continued to plead for my release. I started to cry at this point, which hardly helped the situation, and only seemed to speed up Alice's hand. "Please Alice," I whimpered, my bottom now very sore indeed. "Please who?" she said, in a firm matronly tone, the kind reserved for Mothers dealing with naughty children. "Please Mummy, stop," I said, wishing I'd called her the same moments before and therefore spared myself such a terrible humiliation. "So, you'll be a good boy from now on?" "Yes Mummy." "No, say "Mummy, I'll be a good little boy, I promise', and do it in your little boy voice please." "Mummy, I'll be a good little boy I promise," my voice sounded even more childish given my sobbing, but at least Alice let me up, though she did slap my hand away when I went to pull up my pants and trousers. I'd thankfully suffered none of the arousal experienced earlier, but naturally I was still desperate to hide my willy from the shocked glare of the maids, not least because I could see it had shrivelled markedly in the face of such embarrassment, which Alice's smirk suggested she had noticed too. It was one of the many moments in the day when I wondered how things could have gotten so bad, so quickly. "I'll say when you can pull you pants up again," Alice said, before turning to a Katie and Rose. "In fact, would you girls help please?" The maids looked nervously at each other, and then back at Alice. "It's OK," she replied, "go ahead please. You don't have to be embarrassed. Think of Harry as you would any little boy. Do you have little brothers?" Both girls nodded. "Very well then, that's how you should think of Harry. I mean, look at the size of it anyway. I bet your baby brothers had bigger willies than that." At this point even Rose giggled. I couldn't see their expressions as they huddled around me to pull up my shorts and pants, I'd closed my eyes and was concentrating on trying to stop my crying, but I could feel the rustling fabric of their maid's dresses against my legs and then their soft touches as everything was snapped back into my place, my bottom increasing in pain as it came into contact with the shorts again. "Thank you girls, you can get back to work now," Alice said, taking my hand. "Oh, just one more thing. My husband Lucien is arriving this afternoon. Would you mind giving the room next to Harry's a good clean please?" I wanted to ask her the meaning of this - why wouldn't Lucien be staying in her room? - but was still too busy trying to get over the incredible events of the last few minutes, including trying my very hardest to stop my pathetic whimpering. The morning was completed by a trip down to the stables, where I was introduced in my new form to Polly, the stable girl. Ruddy cheeked with a mass of blonde hair tied scruffily atop her head, she was attending to one of the mares as we entered, but stopped and shook her head as Alice explained the reason for my attire. Never one to mince her words, Polly looked me up and down and said, "Suits him much better if you ask me. I always found him very rude. Would never give me enough money to run this place properly, either." "You never did learn to ride, did you Harry?" Alice asked, then not bothering to wait for my answer continued, "Mother thought him too delicate. Didn't mind sending me down here though. Actually, perhaps when things settle down a little you wouldn't mind giving Harry some lessons? We need to find him things to fill his time. Oh, you could teach Lucien too, he never learned to ride either." "Glad to," Polly replied, "while we're on the subject Miss Alice, I've been asking Harry for a while if it'd be OK to give my niece Imelda some lessons here in the stables but he always said no. Said it wasn't a bloody charity house if I remember right. Do you think that might be alright?" Alice looked over at Gertie and then back to Polly. "Absolutely, my girl. In-fact, wouldn't it make sense to start Harry and Lucien's lessons at the same time? Like a riding club? I learned with my cousins, and it more fun for all of us to be learning with others our age. How old is Imelda?" "Just turned 8," Polly replied, "acts like she's 16 though. So grown up for her age." "Perfect. Well, why don't we start tomorrow? Say 8am? Either Gertie or I will bring the boys down." "You're not really going to make me take riding lessons are you?" I said as we walked back to the house. I'd expected Alice to answer, but Gertie jumped in, "I think it'll do you good actually. Riding is a good skill to have." "Yes, but taking lessons with an 8 year old girl?" I said sadly, trying to ignore the sprouts of laughter coming from the garden boys who were attempting to look like they were attending to the rose bushes by the side of the path while stealing glances in my direction. "And with Lucien too? What's he going to say?" "You needn't worry about that," Alice said. I was about to learn why. I'd only met Lucien on a few occasions and had never been much impressed by him, in much the same way as Alice had been distraught to be paired with him when she was only 18. I'm sure she'd hoped for a strapping, manly husband (or maybe not if recent events were anything to go by) so to be matched to a Mummy's boy like Lucien who barely reached her shoulders and shuffled about the place like he was trying not to smudge the floorboards, had left her angry and distraught, an anger I was certainly feeling the effects of now. He was the youngest son of wealthy local land-owners and they'd been as glad to be rid of him as Father had been glad to get rid of Alice. My memory was that his Father hadn't even come to the wedding, and I could certainly remember his older brothers teasing him before and after the ceremony, asking if he was ready for Alice to carry HIM over the threshold and when he was going to pass his trousers to her to wear. We passed the hour or so before his arrival in the lounge, where I was made to sit on the floor and "play" with my toy planes while the women sat on the chairs, Alice in Father's old seat reading the newspapers and Gertie in Mother's old seat, reading one of her magazines. I was still trying to come to grips with the events of the morning really, wondering how to put a stop to the nonsense as I listlessly pushed one of the wooden planes through the air, though it was obvious a huge amount of damage had already been done. How could I ever speak with authority again, after the staff had seen me in such a way? And if I ever needed a glimpse into my future it was provided in full measure when Lucien arrived. After being pulled to the door by Alice, my bottom still hurting something awful, it opened to reveal Lucien flanked by a young maid on his right hand side holding his hand, and Lucien himself in a sailor suit exactly like mine! In fact, the only difference in our appearance, save for Lucien being a good few inches shorter than me, was that his blond hair had grown incredibly long, right down to past his shoulders! Alice clearly noted my gasp at seeing an almost identical reflection in the doorway, but only smirked briefly in my direction. "Was he much trouble Francis?" Alice asked the young maid, before patting her husband, although he looked as far from such a thing as possible, on his blue sailor suit cap. "He moaned for most of the morning yes," the girl replied, "but we got there in the end. Not without a smack or two though." At this Lucien glanced sadly down at the ground, obscuring his face behind his flaying hair. "Being a naughty boy again Luce?" Alice said, before turning to Gertie. "See what I mean about his hair? Isn't it delightful? It all started because he used to moan constantly about getting a hair-cut - saying the barber was too rough or that he didn't like going to my salon - so in the end I simply stopped sending him. It's a bit of pain for the maids to have to brush it out every morning, but I think Francis here has gotten the knack now, haven't you Francis?" "Just about," she replied, "but we did have a lot of whining this morning. It was awfully tangled though." "Well, we know how to deal with that tomorrow," Alice said, with Lucien shaking his head very slightly. "You brought everything, I assume?" The girl nodded. "Excellent. Well, our boys should get fully acquainted. They'll be spending plenty of time together for the next few weeks." Things hadn't always been so bad. Until just a few weeks before life had been very good indeed - I was head of a large estate with a pretty (and submissive) wife and a sense that the world really was my oyster, home to possibilities as great as the routes the thorn bushes could take as they wind themselves around the garden's fences. That was until Alice had shown up quite unannounced, carrying a tattered old men's suitcase and almost immediately setting about sending my life into turmoil. That she had waited until both Father and Mother had died to return home was no surprise, and the way she had strutted about the house showed me that she'd lost none of her confidence or forthrightness. Only a few days in I'd found her sitting at Father's old desk in the office, her nose stuck firmly in the estate's account books and with a small tumbler of whiskey nearby. The sight took me aback, no woman had ever been in Father's old office as far as I could remember, save for the maids of course, and certainly one had never sat behind his desk before. The idea of Mother sitting there would have been as ridiculous as the thought of her sitting on the throne, or atop Mt. Everest. "These accounts are in a terrible mess," she'd said, not looking up. This was news to me. I thought I'd been doing a pretty sterling job trying to patch things up after Father's death, but then I'd also be the first to concede that numbers weren't my forte. "What are you doing in here?" I'd asked, perching myself on a stack of books next to the desk. She'd looked up and narrowed her eyes, looking much as she always had done when spoiling for a fight. "Oh, you mean because I'm a woman?" "Well....yes...." I said, starting to get a little annoyed. "And you really should have asked my permission first. This is my office now." "Hmm. Seems you need some help. Now, you're putting me off. Why don't you help Gertie with her rounds instead?" That was women's work, I'd argued. Mother had always been the one to inspect the maid's work, and Gertie had done so since we'd been married. She should go and help Gertie, and I'd work on the accounts. That was the way things worked. But Alice had only shook her head and laughed. "Did work, Harry. Did work. I think you're going to have to get used to some changes around here." That much was certainly true. Instead of waking up next to Gertie in the master bedroom, I instead found myself in the guest bedroom for a second consecutive night, while in the room next to me, a room even smaller than mine, my 30 year old brother in law was waking up in a pair of blue fleece pyjamas identical to the pair I'd been dressed in the night before. I hadn't had much opportunity to speak to Lucien since his arrival, despite our close proximity for the afternoon as we followed Alice and Gertie around like the well-behaved "boys" we'd promised to me. Besides, it had seemed somehow even more embarrassing to try and talk to him in any kind of grown-up fashion when we were both attired so childishly, and so our communication had been limited to glances in each other's direction, or platitudes we'd been forced to dish out to one another by a beaming Alice. I couldn't know for sure, but I doubted Lucien was getting the same perverse sense of arousal from the situation as I was, or at least he didn't give any signs of it. For my part, the sensation was growing stronger with every new humiliation - like having to eat dinner at the children's table with Lucien, a table I hadn't frequented for nigh on twenty years, or being sent to bed at 8pm, with young Katie, the maid, taking me there by the hand while Gertie and Alice moved onto a third glass of wine. In the half-light of the morning, I found myself channelling these embarrassments and relegations in status into their strongest sensations yet, working myself to the point of orgasm with my willy straining angrily against my little boy underpants as I told myself that I completely and utterly deserved to be treated in such a infantile matter, and that Alice, my little sister, would make a much better job of being the man of the house than I ever could. It was only when the ecstasy had passed did the feeling of shame and self-loathing was over me again. It was bad enough to find myself cast back to childhood, but to somehow be enjoying the humiliation such a regression would bring? That was worse than anything Alice could throw at me. Even worse, I had to somehow find a way of hiding the stain on the bedsheets, which was as futile as the self-admonishments I was doling out. I wasn't surprised to find Katie at the door when it opened, Alice clearly realising that to have the pretty young girl act as a default "Nanny" would only add to my punishment, but I was surprised at the business like way the previously bashful and unsure girl went about shooing me toward the bathroom, even calling in to make sure I remembered to brush my teeth when I got out of the bath she'd drawn. Then, after emerging in the fluffy blue towel which had been left for me, she said we were to go to Lucien's room to have my hair brushed, which seemed thoroughly odd. "I'm perfectly capable of brushing my own hair!" I said, suddenly very peeved again at the whole situation, perhaps heightened by my annoyance at letting my hair grow so long, while must have delighted Alice when she'd arrived. "I know you are, but these are Miss Alice....sorry, your Mummy's... orders," Katie said, grabbing my hand, "and I'm not in the business of disobeying those. Not when I need this job." "Very well," I said, rolling my eyes and acting like I was giving her my consent, even though we both knew I was going to Lucien's room whether I liked it or not. What we found there both shocked and chilled me. Sitting at the vanity under the window was Lucien, with Francis behind him brushing his shoulder length blond hair. Francis was dressed in a knee length pink smock, a uniform more befitting a Nanny than a maid - the kind of thing I remembered our Nannies wearing when I was a boy - but it wasn't Francis' attire that made me gasp but Lucien's, who to my utter amazement, was wearing a ruffled pink nightdress of the style a little girl would wear, complete with a large fold down white collar and floppy bows on the arms. As well as that, I couldn't help but notice his hair- free legs as I found myself sitting down next to him, or the sparkling pink studs that had appeared in his ears overnight. Unsurprisingly there were tears in his eyes, which only intensified as he noticed me sitting down next to him. "Why's he dressed like that?" I heard Katie whisper to Francis, as I tried desperately not to look over at the poor wretch. "Alice's rules," Francis whispered in reply, as if we couldn't hear, "she says that if he complains like a little girl while he's getting his hair brushed, he should be dressed like one for three days after that. Between me and you, he ends up like this most mornings." I didn't know if the same rule would apply to me, but better safe than sorry I thought, so I kept perfectly quiet as Katie, somewhat roughly, worked the wooden brush through my own hair until it sat, somewhat oddly, quite flat and straight against my head, rather than the normal messy look I tended to sport. Poor Lucien's hair took quite a bit longer, and he was quiet for nearly the whole time until Francis attended to a particularly bad tangle, at which point he let out a high- pitched squeal of pain. "Nearly done Lucy," Francis said, "but I'm afraid I'll have to count that as a complaint and tell Mummy." "But I wasn't complaining!" he squeaked, "you were just being too rough! That's not fair." That she'd called him "Lucy" seemed to go completely unnoticed, at least by him. Katie, who was attending to my fringe, gave me a surprised look when it happened, and I returned an equally amazed glare. Clearly "Lucy" was just his name when so attired, and frankly, it fitted him well. Amidst all these incredible on-goings, I'd completely forgotten about Alice booking me up for riding lessons, the memory of it only returning when Katie revealed the cream riding trousers and white shirt I was to be dressed in, which thankfully the girl left me alone to attend to. The trousers were way too tight and frankly unlike anything I'd seen boys wear for riding, but they were a thousand times better than the tiny sailor suit shorts so I gave thanks for small mercies as I pulled them on. We met an identically dressed Lucien in the hallway, although he'd clearly suffered the indignity of having his hair tied up under his riding cap, with a spout of blond hair falling down through the gap in the back of the hat in a most girlish fashion. "Oh, look at our little riders!" Alice said mocking as we were led to the breakfast table, a copy of the Financial Times covering Alice's already eaten breakfast. "How adorable you both look. And I love your hair up like that Lucien." "This isn't fair!" he cried suddenly, startling all in attendance. "I don't want to take riding lessons like some little child! And look at us! We look quite ridiculous!" "Well tough," Alice shot back, "I thought we'd long since agreed that I'd decide what was best for you Lucien. What's the real problem here? Is it perhaps that you think riding is for girls?" "No, I didn't say that," he said, voice trembling with anger, "but it's not right that we should have to learn with a little girl, and some niece of the stable girl at that! When are you going to stop this nonsense? I'm a grown man, and deserve....." "Enough!" Alice yelled, stopping poor Lucien in his tracks, "what on earth gives YOU the idea that you're so superior, hmm? We clearly haven't knocked that superiority out of you after all. You weren't so superior when you came crying to me just after we'd married, pleading for me to sack the head gardener because you were scared of him, were you? Or when I had to stop Leonard and Tabitha's little boys from bullying you at the garden party?" She shook her head and turned to Gertie. "You should have seen him Gerts. He was cowering by the hedgerow, hoping they wouldn't find him. How old were those boys Lucien? 10 and 8? And you, the "man of the house', hiding from them?" "I'm sick of you telling everyone that! I wasn't hiding, I was just trying to get some peace and quiet!" "Oh yes indeed. Those boys were eating you for breakfast Lucien. I remember you scampering between them while they threw your shoes around, and pleading for mercy when the little one pulled your arm behind your back." She grabbed him firmly by the hand. "Anyway, it's time for your first riding lesson. Come along now. Katie, will you bring Harry please? Gertie's feeling tired." Katie and I were left trying to keep up with Alice as she hauled a still whinging Lucien towards the stables, her frame indeed dwarfing his in the manner of a Mother pulling along her son. Don't get me wrong, I felt much the same about the riding lessons as Lucien did, but I was glad that he'd been the one to vocalise matters and not me. This was ever truer as Alice marched him into the stable, telling him to sit on a mound of hay by the entrance as she called Polly, the stable girl over. "Little Lucien here thinks riding is for girls," she said, susshing Lucien's words to the contrary, "and he has a terrible bee in his bonnet about sharing lessons with your niece. What was her name again?" "Imelda," Polly replied. "Ah yes, Imelda. You said she was 8, didn't you? Do you suppose it might help knock the superiority out of my husband if Imelda became his peer?" "What do you mean?" Polly asked. "I mean, would you be so kind as to imagine Lucien here is simply another 8 year old coming for a first riding lesson? And given he thinks riding is for girls, he can be one of the girls too." "Oh come on...." Lucien cried, flopping his hands by his side. "Quiet now Lucy, there's a good GIRL," Alice said. Poppy's brown eyes were sparkling with mischief now. "How fun! But what about Harry? I'm sure he'd be awfully ashamed to take riding lessons with a couple of girls. Unless....." "Yes Polly?" Alice said. "...well I'm quite sure I've got a couple of girl's riding outfits that would fit both of them? Wouldn't having three girls take lessons make more sense?" I knew Polly had never liked me much, but I didn't know her hatred was so deep and visceral as to suggest such a thing. Only when she returned from the cupboard with two sets of pink riding trousers and purple blouses did I realise it fully. "Lovely. Well, I leave you to let the girls get changed and then on with their first lessons," Alice said, heading for the door before giving us one last glance, "and girls, if Polly here tells me you've been anything other than very good little 8 year olds, you'll be in big trouble. Understand?" We both looked down at the floor. For my part, the humiliation was almost over-bearing, especially as Polly laid the girl's riding clothes over my arms. "Girls, answer me please." "Yes Mummy," I said, still staring downwards. "Good girl Harriet. And Lucy?" But clearly too many of Lucien's buttons had been pressed. "I won't stay here! And I definitely won't wear these clothes! I'm going back to the house and then back to MY house. This is bloody outrageous." But his path to the door with met in good time by Alice, who just like she with me the day before, very quickly whisked him over the lap of her suit trousers, before pulling down his pants and administering a set of sharp, heavy smacks on his bare bottom. When done, she whisked the girl's riding trousers up his legs and the blouse over his chest, telling him over and over to stop "being a silly girl'. Fearing the same might happen to me, I changed into the girlish clothes while the fuss continued, but felt quite ridiculous as Polly told me what a "good girl" I was. "You know what?" Alice said, standing Lucien up again, "I think the problem is that Lucy here is scared. Maybe she's not ready for big girl things like horse riding yet. Polly, why don't we instead pretend that Lucy here is Harriet's little sister. Treat her like you would any little sister who's brought along to the stables, but isn't yet old enough to ride herself. I'm sure that happens on occasion?" "Very much so," Polly replied, "she can walk beside the girls with me as they ride." "Wonderful," Alice said, "I'll leave you to it." Lucien's complaining continued after Alice had left, despite Polly's warnings to behave. "This is absurd, absolutely unacceptable." The shy man of the day before was apparently long gone, replaced by a cauldron of anger. "You're not helping either of us," I told him eventually, tiring of his moaning, "just be quiet for a while." "What do you mean?" he said, his cheeks ever redder. "I mean, if you could have just stayed quiet we wouldn't be stuck in these girl's clothes. I know my sister. Fighting with her will only make things worse. Surely you've realised as much by now?" "You're blaming me for this?" He cried, his voice almost laughably high pitched. "Girls, girls," Polly said, "enough of your squabbling. Besides, here's Imelda now." Imelda had walked to the estate from the village on her own, and bounded into the stables with childish excitement, only stopping to gawp at the two grown men in the corner dressed in girl's riding outfits, much like the riding trousers and blouse she herself was wearing. Polly didn't mince her words in front of the girl, explaining that we were being punished for our bad behaviour, and that in attempt to right our terrible attitudes it had been decided we be treated like the children we so often acted like. "And because I know you'd prefer to learn with girls than boys, they're going to be Harriet and Lucy during our lessons. We're going to pretend Harriet is 8 like you, but because Lucy has been particularly naughty she's going to be a 6 year old, too young to learn to ride," Alice told the bright eyed girl, who bounced on the spot at the news, her dark brown hair spilling out from under her riding cap. "That's so fun Auntie Polly," she chirped, clapping her hands together, "and I'm glad I don't have to learn with yucky boys." And so my first riding lesson began, Polly doling out instructions to us "girls" on how to pet our horse's nose and feed him sliced apples. I was assigned one of the small black haired mares in the corner, and it took a seemingly instant dislike to me every time I tried to climb into the saddle, eventually necessitating Polly's assistance. While this happened, and as Imelda and I slowly started guiding our mares through a trot, poor Lucien was left by Polly's side, his hand in hers as they followed us. Had it not been for my girlish attire, which found ways of itching me in ways I couldn't imagine and felt so odd against my skin, I might have found the whole thing quite relaxing and enjoyable, the open countryside a welcome escape from the prison-like environs the estate had now become. Even mucking out in the end was almost fun, as Imelda and I worked together to clean all five stables and throwing the odd piece of muck in each other's direction. Lucien declined to take part in such silliness of course, only muttering on about how ridiculous the situation was, and how I should act my age. "You were talking to that little girl like she's your equal," he said as we walked back to the house, "she's 8 years old for crying out loud, and you're what? 28? I was already married before she was even born!" "There was no point being rude to her, this isn't her fault," I said. "And what's your plan to stop this nonsense?" he snapped. I shook my head. "Don't know." "Well, making friends with 8 year old girls isn't going to do it. Trust me." But being treated as Imelda's equal had done something funny to me, creating a feeling I could only shake off by sneaking into the bathroom after we'd been allowed to change (our riding clothes discarded for a very childish short and shirt set, complete with red bow-tie), and bringing myself to orgasm, the thought of being relegated to such a degree that a silly, soppy 8 year old girl saw me as an equal at the forefront of my mind, and that being Harriet, her little riding class- mate, was exactly what I deserved to be. "You're not going to cause trouble are you?" It was the following morning, and I found myself alone in the east corridor's end bathroom with Katie, an idea that a few days before would have seemed terribly illicit and open to all kinds of opportunities, but in which I now felt every inch the small child in the presence of a "grown-up'. I'd been surprised and a little embarrassed to see her turn up in a pink "Nanny" smock like the one Francis wore, confirming a new order in the household that neither of us needed to speak to formalise. "No, I replied, not quite sure what to think or say, and trying to quell any possibility of too much stirring under my towel, something which only added to my sense of embarrassment. "I'll be quick, I promise. And you know your Mummy isn't going to have it any other way." I closed my eyes as she began to lather my legs, chest and arm-pits in all kinds of lotions, and shuddered as I felt the cool blade make its way all over my exposed body. After a soak in a luke-warm bath, in which I could do little but stare at my hair-free legs under the surface of the water, I emerged to be towelled off and covered in a sweet smelling powder and a lotion from a pink bottle that left all shorn areas looking awfully pinkish and, well, girlish. "What on earth am I doing?" I whispered, every movement feeling completely alien as the air attacked my bare skin in ways it had never previously, and the fluffy towel rubbed in an alien way against my moisturised skin. "It's not too bad," Katie said, offering a sweet smile that hid whatever it was she really thought, and ushering me into Lucien's bedroom, where the poor thing was in a ruffled pink nightie again, and groaning as Francis worked on his hair. "You're putting it in plaits!?" Katie whispered urgently, as I took my seat next to a very po-faced Lucien. "That's the order from up high. Alice wants him to have a "proper" hair style for the six year old girl he is at riding lessons." "Shut up!" Lucien raged. "I'm not bloody six years old, and I'm certainly not a girl. I'm going to be talking to Alice about this in the strongest possible terms today, you'll see." But his fight didn't extend to stopping Francis as she tied his hair into two long plaits, with one left dangling down the front of either shoulder and with a little red bow tied into either base. "Have you ever seen anything like it?" Francis whispered to Katie, as Lucien looked on in horror at his new very girlie hair-style, complete with a delicate flicked fringe that stopped just short of his eyebrows, all framing his face in such a way that it made him look even more child-like than he had before, any hint of manhood now a long way off as he stomped about in his frilly nightdress, complaining bitterly about his "stupid" hair. I'd gotten off lightly - Katie only brushed my hair down straight like she had the day before, but I was horrified when I saw my clothes for riding class. While the bright purple riding trousers and lilac blouse were pretty much as expected, my eyes widened at the sight of a pair of white knickers on top of the trousers, complete with a row of lace on the bum and a little bow on the waistband, all of which matched the frilly white socks beside them perfectly. "You better get dressed," Katie said simply, quite obviously aware of the little girl underpants but thankfully not drawing any attention to them. I paused when she left the room, not quite able to believe that I was even considering putting on a pair of knickers, especially ones so clearly designed for a little girl. But I could also feel a tinge of excitement building in me, and an ever louder voice saying that they were perfectly suitable underpants for an insignificant little 8 year old girl like me, and that if Imelda was going to be wearing knickers during our lesson, why shouldn't I? I didn't deserve any better, and had no more reason to wear men's underwear, or even boy's underwear, than she did. They felt so strange once on, the trims and bows pinching my hairless groin in ways I couldn't see myself ever getting used to. Once under my trousers they felt even more illicit, and my willy strained even harder against the soft fabric as the odd sensation of my hairless legs against the trouser legs further confirmed what a silly little girl I'd become. It was only when I saw Gertie at the breakfast table that my sense of perverse excitement came crashing to an abrupt end. She was reading one of her women's magazines as she always did, and the realisation suddenly hit that she almost certainly knew of my attire, and I simply couldn't imagine what she thought of her 28 year old husband at that moment. That she looked so pretty with her hair clipped behind her ear and her apricot dress sparkling in the morning sun didn't help matters, nor did the fact that she ignored me completely as I took my place at the children's table, next to crestfallen looking Lucien, who was still muttering angrily about his silly hair. He was still doing so as Alice wondered over, "Harriet, just wanted to let you know that I've got some appraisers coming in this morning to look at redeveloping the west wing. I know it was something you were trying, and failing, to get done before I arrived, so I thought you'd be happy to know." "Yes Mummy," I said, hating that Alice knew how to so perfectly press my buttons. The work on the west wing had been my pet project. "Is there any chance...I mean, if it's OK with you.....that maybe I could hear what the appraisers say?" "Don't be silly Harriet. It's a grown up matter, far too boring and complicated for a 8 year old like you. You've got your riding lesson with Imelda, remember? Then I've asked Mrs Forster-Brown to pop by and give you girls a piano lesson." "What!" Lucien cried. "When did this happen? I won't do it!" "Oh Lucy, you are funny. Do you really think a 6 year old with her hair in pretty plaits should be arguing with her Mummy, hmm? You'll go to riding class with your big sister and then you'll go to your piano lesson, understood? Or else I'll take your knickers down in-front of everyone and give you a good smack." Lucien's face contorted at Alice's revelation that he too was in knickers, although it was hardly a surprise. He stomped behind as Katie walked us to the stables, jumping angrily in the small puddles formed by the previous night's rain, his anger focused on the pools of water that flew up and soaked the bottom of his riding trousers. Imelda was already there, and after giving me a friendly hug to say hello she was quick to compliment Lucien on his "pretty" hair, which obviously didn't help his mood much. I spent most of the lesson smarting at Alice stealing my development project, and worrying about Mrs Forster-Brown's arrival. She'd been Alice's piano teacher growing up, so even though I'd never taken lessons with her myself (Father didn't think it was the kind of thing a boy should do), she knew me well. What was she going to think of me now, especially as I was likely to be dressed in some little boy's outfit? Lucien, who'd once more spent the lesson walking beside us holding Polly's hand, had other ideas. "I'm not standing for it," he said, as we ambled slowly back to house, both of us dirty from mucking out. "Once changed, I'm going to find Alice and tell her than I'm returning home." "OK," I replied, somehow knowing that he'd fail in such an endeavour. We were met at the door by Francis and Katie, whose whispering to one another stopped when we appeared. "How was your...err....riding lesson?" Katie asked, as we walked down the corridor. "You must think me quite ridiculous," I said, looking down at my muck- stained girl's riding trousers, my thin legs underneath thin enough to look perfectly normal underneath the girlie attire. She didn't reply, but I definitely noticed a tiny wince, and I reckoned that support from my ideal from Katie couldn't be a bad thing. However, after a quick bath and return to the bedroom, I was to learn what Katie's wince had really been about. "Your Mummy's orders," Katie said, laying the dress out on the bed. "But....no. I can't! It's not fair! I'm only supposed to be a girl during riding lessons, that was the deal!" "She says you've got to be one during piano lessons too I'm afraid, and that an 8 year old girl would wear a dress for piano lessons." I stared at the garment momentarily, barely able to believe what I was hearing. The dress was of peplum blue, with puff sleeves and pleated skirt, while the large bertha collar was lined with red braiding. It was exactly the kind of thing the little girls I saw in the village would wear, and I had simply no idea how Alice (and Gertie) had procured such a thing in my size. "It won't be so bad," Katie said, holding the dress into the air, "you only have to wear it for piano, and then you can put your boy's clothes back on." Quite obviously this was a whole new step into girlhood, and one which left me both disgusted and a tad exhilarated. Wearing riding trousers in girlish colours was one thing, but wearing a dress, and one so obviously designed for a young girl, was quite another. All I could think about, as Katie lowered the awful garment over my knickers, was how I was going to be sitting primly at the piano in a frock while Alice attended to my jobs as man of the house. It was enough to make me cry, had I not realised it would only add to the girlish picture. Katie added to my humiliation with a pair of frilly blue socks and white buckle up shoes, as well as a small blue bow in the side of my hair. For her this was likely quite fun - almost like a life-size dolly to play with, but I thought I might die as I looked at the overgrown girl in the mirror, her short pleated skirt revealing a good portion of her hairless thighs and her skinny arms poking almost apologetically out of her puff sleeves. Wearing a dress was beyond strange. While it had been obvious that I'd been wearing girl's clothes while dressed in the riding outfit, it was a world away from the manifold new sensations the dress offered, such as the soft touch of the puff sleeves against my shoulders or the very light breeze circulating under the skirt. When Katie popped to the lavatory, I suddenly felt compelled to lift the dress up to my waist, exposing the white knickers beneath. I hadn't noticed before how snugly the underpants constrained my willy, to the point where its presence was signified only by a small indentation amongst the frills. I touched its outline quickly - the poor thing starting to rise slightly to the occasion but otherwise too constrained by the cotton hugging it tightly - before pulling down the dress again quickly as Katie emerged from the bathroom. My only salvation was that poor Lucien had suffered an even worse fate. He was wearing a pink frock with small blue dots and frills on the bodice, while the skirt, quite a bit shorter than mine, hung limply around his upper thighs and his hair, still plaited, had been secured by matching large pink bows which rested prettily against the front of the dress. Naturally he was complaining loudly, and shook his head sadly when he saw me so similarly attired. I didn't know if he realised that his skirt was so short that it meant his pink ruffled knickers flashed out from under the netting with almost every movement, but I certainly wasn't going to be the one to tell him. "I WON'T GO DOWNSTAIRS LIKE THIS!" he cried over and over, his petulant whining making him look as far from a 30 year old man as could possibly be, especially as his hair and skirt swirled around him in a blur of blond and pink. "I'll have to get your Mummy if you don't calm down," Francis said, clearly tiring of his outbursts. "SHE'S NOT MY MUMMY," he continued, his voice raising yet another octave. "Let me," Katie said. Lucien didn't see her at first, but he surely did when she lifted him into the air and clasped him firmly against her chest, leaving his head resting on her shoulders and his legs bouncing against her shins, "I've got little brothers and sisters at home, so I know how to deal with them when they get like this." Her arm ended wrapped around his bottom causing his dress to ride up around his waist, while the other was placed firmly on his back, leaving poor Lucien no room to manoeuvre. We were all shocked by her actions I think, no-one more so than Lucien who began struggling terribly to escape her grasp in a quite pathetic display of desperation. But Katie was used to it, and had no trouble walking downstairs with him clasped tightly to her while Francis and I followed, amazed at what we were seeing. "Oh look at this!" Alice exclaimed as we entered the dining area. "Don't they look adorable!" Finally let down, Lucien was silent for a moment, as if trying to fully comprehend what had just happened, before his bitter complaining started once more. "I want her sacked!" he yelled, pointing at Katie. "How dare she do that! I've had quite enough of this nonsense Alice. We're going home, and we're doing it now? Where are my clothes?" He was trying to appear in control of the situation, but his eyes revealed a different story, at least to me. There, I could see the utter dejection of someone who'd just experienced having his last bastion of adulthood - the choice to go where he wanted - taken away, and by a pretty maid 12 years his junior no less. "You're wearing your clothes," Alice replied simply, "your pretty frock is what a 6 year old girl like you wears." She took the opportunity to brush down the front of his dress, not missing a chance to flick his skirt up slightly, further revealing the knickers beneath. Lucien's face reddened either further, a full blown tantrum now unavoidable. "I'M NOT A 6 YEAR OLD GIRL! I'm a 30 year old man, and I want to go home. You think you're so bloody clever Alice, but it's time you remembered that I'm the man and you're the woman, and no amount of trying to humiliate me is going to stop that. I'm truly very sorry that you hate being a woman, or that you feel the world has been so awful to you because of your sex, but none of that is my problem or concern, and treating me like this is not going to change it." His voice had reached a shockingly high octave now, doing nothing to support his pleas for a return to adulthood. "I want my trousers back Alice. And I want my hair cut and I want to go home. Now!" This last statement was accompanied by a quite remarkable stomp of the feet, causing his dress to fly up around his waist. He pulled it back down as quickly as he could, but not before Alice shook her head. "Oh Lucy, you are funny," she said, taking hold of the hem of his dress and lifting it in the air again, his frilly knickers now on full and permanent display. "You come down here being carried by a slip of a girl and after letting Francis dress you in these pretty clothes, and THEN you start telling everyone what a big man you are?" "Put that down!" he cried, trying and failing to pull down his skirt. "It's funny. I remember Harry pulling my skirt up when he was little. No look. He's in a short little skirt and so are you. And do you know why you're in a frock and frilly knickers Lucy? No? It's because you're far too immature and girlish for anything else. In-fact, I now realise that you're too infantile even for piano lessons. Katie? Would you carry this little darling back to the bedroom please? I'll follow you there." "NO!" Lucien cried, as Katie hoisted him into the air once more, leaving him flopping like a newly caught fish. "LET ME DOWN! IT'S NOT FAIR!" Alice turned to me. "Harriet? You go with Francis to the lounge please. Mrs Neville will be arriving shortly to start your first lesson." She stared at me after the command ended, clearly wanting a response. "Yes Mummy," I said softly, my hands folded together in front of my dress, and feeling as far from manhood as could possibly be. That the feeling somehow aroused me was where Lucien and I clearly continued to differ, as he found himself hauled back to the bedroom I found myself thinking about how I'd been regressed from the very top of the food chain - the head of the household - to the very bottom - a little girl in a frock, led by the hand to her first piano lesson. That Gertie, who'd watched the morning's events unfold from her position in the corner of the room, was there to see being led out of the room only added to the sensation. If Mrs Neville remembered me, or if she was aware that I wasn't actually an 8 year old girl (which she quite obviously was) then she didn't show it. Instead she blustered into the room in her knee length polyester dress and told me to sit down, from where she started to take through the basics of fingering like she had with a thousand children before, slapping my hand when I did something wrong and saying "there's a good girl," when I did something right. It was terribly hard to concentrate with the sight of my hairless legs poking out from under the short pleated skirt so apparent, and on a couple of occasions I even suffered Mrs Neville pushing my legs together and tutting, "Young Ladies keep their knees together and ankles crossed at the piano, Harriet." She'd only just finished such an admonishment when we were disturbed by Alice's arrival with two smartly suited men in tow. "This is just one of the lounges," she was telling them, "I was thinking about extending out that bay window, would that be possible?" I was desperate to pay full attention to the conversation, but Mrs Neville had other ideas. "Concentrate Harriet, there's a girl. Leave the grown ups to their conversation. It's none of your concern." Coupled with the complete mortification of the two middle aged men seeing me so attired, and the annoyance at only being able to listen to a conversation I so desperately wanted to be part of, I felt myself veering towards the kind of outburst Lucien had given earlier. Suddenly the idea that I was sitting primly at the piano in a dress while my little sister talked about erstwhile matters seemed completely unpalatable, with the arousal of earlier replaced by a deep sense of shame and injustice. It was my concern! It should have been my concern! Up until a few days before, it had been my concern! I'd made the initial enquiries! I'd started working on the plans! It was far more of my concern than the fingering lessons I was having to concentrate on instead! "Of course, you'll probably have to replace the windows if we do that," one the men said, scribbling on a clipboard, "not the biggest job in the world, but it'll certainly add a bit to the hours. We can use the same supplier." "Well add it to the quote," Alice replied, "and I'm sorry about the noise. My daughter Harriet is having her first piano lesson today." I buried my face downwards as the men glanced in my direction, completely and utterly mortified at being seen in such a fashion. They didn't say anything though, instead hiding any bemusement by continuing to talk about the work needed while I practiced my fingering for D minor and tried to remember to keep my knees together and ankles crossed. I was allowed to return to boy's clothes afterwards but with the caveat relayed by Alice who joined Katie and I momentarily, that I was to leave the knickers on underneath my shorts as a reminder that I could returned to the dress at any time, should my behaviour warrant it. At least this was better than the fate Lucien had suffered. Not only was he being kept in his short pink frock, Alice had now instructed that he carry a rag- doll with him at all times, which she was proud to announce he'd named Betty (although I guessed he'd been coerced into such a decision). Worse than that, tied around his neck by a bright pink bow was now a baby's dummy, at which I simply couldn't help but giggle. "Be good now Harry, or you might find yourself with the same," Alice said. "You should be aware that Lucy is now four years old until she proves herself to be more grown-up. And there'll be no return to boy's clothes either." She turned back to her crestfallen husband and patted him on the head. "If you're going to have temper tantrums like a four year old girl, we'll just treat you like a four year old girl, won't we Lucy?" Over the next few days, I fell into the habit of waking very early. Partly this was due to the ridiculous bedtime of 7.30pm I was now subjected to (it was worse for Lucien, who found himself led upstairs at 6pm!), but also to utilise the quiet of the morning, which had become just about the only time I got to spend alone anymore. Wearing knickers all the time had left me in an almost constant state of arousal. Mostly it was low level, but in the mornings the level seemed to go through the roof, leaving me laying in bed gently caressing my throbbing willy through the soft cotton and frills and thinking about all the embarrassments and humiliations I'd endured. Like having to sit with Imelda after riding class and talk about our horses, somehow now being the equal of a GIRL 20 years my junior, or of seeing poor Lucien being made to wear a pink-edged bib at the dinner table, his status reduced from husband to that of infant girl by my wicked sister. It was this wicked sister who had called me into Father's office after my piano lesson with Mrs Neville. I'd been placed in a tartan frock with fold down lace-edged collar and a netting under the skirt that made my still tender legs itch something terribly, so to find her sitting behind what should have been my desk and wearing what appeared to be men's clothes - grey pleated trousers and a matching tweed jacket - was a kick in the gut indeed. "Oh look at you!" she said, looking up from the journal she'd been reading, "isn't this awfully fun? I just love getting into all the running of the household. How was your piano lesson?" "Yes, fine," I spat back, suddenly feeling very cold and exposed in the austere air of the wood-panelled office. Had anyone ever worn such a childish garment in Father's office? Only Alice could have done, and I was sure Father had never let her in. "What was that Harriet?" I sighed slightly. "Fine, Mummy." She smiled, "good girl. I want to try something different though. Come over here a minute." She pulled me to within an inch of her, and forced my hand just inside the waistband of her mannish trousers. "Feel that, hmm? What are they?" "Alice...what are you doing....." "Tell me what I'm wearing Harriet." "Well, they're men's boxer shorts, I think." They felt like the kind I normally wore, or at least had worn until Alice's arrival. "That's right sweetie," she replied, removing my hand and then patting me on the head. "While I'm doing the work of a man around here, doesn't it seem right that I wear men's underwear?" I was more than a little shocked. While I knew Alice had never been a girly girl - she'd always hated being dressed in the kinds of frocks I now found myself wearing - and although the clothes she'd worn since arriving back at the estate had been of a masculine cut, I would never have thought she'd actually want to wear men's clothing. "I've been a bit naughty actually," she continued, "took them out of Father's old things. I did try on a pair of yours first, but they were far too small." Now I was really shocked. "Alice, you can't do that! It's....it's...." "Oh stop it. It's not like the old man is going to mind, is it? He's too busy getting eaten by worms. Really Harry, I don't think you realise how much wastage was going on. I've saved enough already to help pay for the development of the west wing. Aren't you lucky I came home when I did?" I looked down at the ground. "Yes Mummy." "Right, yes. That's the thing I want to change. While I'm wearing the men's underwear round here, I think it'd be far nicer if you called me Daddy rather than Mummy. What do you think?" I could feel my willy strain against the tight confines of my knickers as the words finished rolling out of Alice's mouth, such was the intense humiliation at the thought of having to call her, my little sister by four years, "Daddy'. It was so bad I had to look down at my frock to make sure no bump had appeared under the skirt, and I found myself glad for the itchy netting which had absorbed any hint of my "excitement." "Try it now Harriet. There's a good girl. Say, 'thank you for looking after the house, Daddy.'" It was odd. Part of me was absolutely desperate not to say such a thing, especially in the almost sacred confines of my Father's office, but the other more devilish side of me wanted to hear the words roll of my lips - further confirmation of the complete failure of a man that I'd become. "Harriet," Alice said, her voice darkening, "you don't want to go over my knee again, do you? I shook my head. "Then say it. And use your little girl voice please. The high-pitched one we practiced yesterday." The devil won out, "thank you for looking after the house Daddy," I squeaked, my voice matching my clothes. She looked delighted. "You're welcome sweetie. Now, run off and find your Nanny. You've been such a good girl you can tell her to let you change back into your boy's clothes." The feeling of climax was deep and seemingly never-ending amongst the stillness and quiet, my hand only at the last moment diverting my willy into such a position that the cum didn't soak my knickers, instead sending the juice off to meet its end on the underside of my pink duvet cover. The thought of Alice wearing Father's old boxer shorts and mannish clothes while I stood meekly before her frilly knickers and a tartan frock had been the last thought on my mind, and then was the first again when the extasy abated, replaced by a crushing feeling of shame and self-loathing. I resolved something while waiting for my wake-up call for Katie. I couldn't go on accepting the punishment Alice was doling out indefinitely, even if I did finally it terribly arousing sometimes, and I reckoned a heart to heart might just bring the nonsense to an end. I was getting more and more worried about Gertie - who'd been conspicuous by her absence in the last few days, always going into the village or to a friend's house - because after all, how long would she stay married to a husband who wore children's clothing and took orders from his little sister? I would also tell Alice that I feared for her own marriage, although it was pretty obvious that she didn't care much about that. But all plans went by the wayside when, as I stood at the window watching the sun finally rise, I noticed Alice and Polly, the stable girl, climb into Father's old car and drive away. "Do you know where they're going?" I asked Katie when she arrived moments later. "You're joking aren't you? Do you really think I'd ask Miss Alice of her plans?" "But Polly was with her," I replied, "do you think they'll be back soon, or does it mean no riding lesson this morning?" I really hated not knowing what was going on, as must have been apparent from the increase in my pitch. "Well I know there's no riding lessons this morning. As for what time they'll be back, I don't know." "Fudge. I wanted to talk to Alic....I mean Daddy this morning." Katie's eyes narrowed, her smirk barely hidden. "Well, your 'Daddy' must have other plans. I've been asked to work on your hair instead." "My hair? What do you mean? I'm going to get it cut finally?" "Just come along. We don't have all that much time. Miss Alice said we must be finished by 10am." After a quick bath, I was aghast to find a pink nightie sitting daintily on top of the matching pink duvet, waiting for me to put on. It was similar to the kind Lucien had worn in the mornings, before his latest regression to infant's clothes. "But why!" I moaned, "I've been well behaved!" "Sorry," Katie said, "Doctor's orders." She handed me a pair of plain white knickers to put on before sliding the horrible garment over my head, it falling to half way down my thigh and with the bows itching me terribly, "you won't like me saying it, but this is actually quite fun. I've only got younger brothers, so I'd have loved a little sister." "Great," I muttered, as she returned me to the bathroom and started wrapping a towel around my neck. "Miss Alice wants me to dye your hair and then add extensions," Katie said simply, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. "Wait! No! I'm not agreeing to that!" "Oh come on Sir. You don't want to get me in trouble do you? It's just a brown hair dye, nothing embarrassing. And it'll be fun to see how you look with longer hair." Brown was the colour of Alice's hair, and Imelda's actually, and I was amazed at my reflection when Katie showed me my new hair colour in the mirror - my dirty blond hair replaced by mousy brown locks that made me look like someone else entirely. It got worse as she slowly and laboriously added strand after strand of extensions in, the smell of glue almost over-powering and my willy straining angrily as I saw the long hair of a girl appear in the bathroom's mirror, until I was left with brown hair falling down to a good few inches past my shoulders. It had the effect of making my face seem so much smaller and dainty, the man of a few days ago replaced by a young girl. "See, not so bad is it?" Katie said. "And we've been quick too. Now, just to style it." "Please Katie...." I whimpered, as she set about me with a wooden hairbrush. By the end I was blessed with a delicate brown fringe and my hair gathered at the back slightly, from where it fell loosely around my shoulders, a pink and white bow tying it into place. "I look like a girl!" I cried, somewhat redundantly, "I mean, a little girl! You have to change it back, please?" "Sorry. Besides, we have to get you dressed. Your dance lesson will be starting soon." My eyes widened as she produced a pink leotard and white tights, as well as a pair of soft pink ballet shoes. "You must be joking!" I cried. "Apparently a lady Miss Alice knows is a dance teacher," Katie replied, "so it looks like you're going to be adding dance lessons to your piano and riding classes." I resisted as best I could, but eventually Katie was able to over-power me sufficiently to slip the uniform over my naked body. A glance in the mirror now revealed only a young girl, perhaps of 11 or 12 in height but 7 or 8 in clothing, and I had to stop myself gasping at the flatness in the front of the leotard, the tights helping to contain my willy entirely, to the point where it was impossible to tell a boy had ever existed. Worst of all, with our facial similarities and the fact that I was now an owner of mousey brown hair that fell all around me - I actually looked like Alice had done as a girl! This created a tipping point, and I steadfastly refused to leave the room. "People can't see me like this! What will they think? I want my real clothes back and I want them back now. Do you know where they're being stored?" "I'm sorry sweetie. You'll need to talk to Miss Ali...I mean, you'll have to talk to your Daddy about that. Now we really must hurry! It's already five past ten." "No!" I yelled. There was absolutely no sense of arousal now, only deep annoyance and injustice, "I'm not taking ridiculous dancing lessons, and I'm not having everyone in the estate seeing me dressed like this. If you won't give me my clothes back then I'll simply wait here until ALICE gets back and give her a piece of my mind." I turned my head just in time to see Katie march over. Then, through my veil of long brown hair, I found myself lifted upwards just as Lucien had been, the only difference being that my feet came to rest on her ankles rather than her shins, given my slight height superiority on poor Lucien. "I can't lose this job," Katie said urgently, "I've got a sick Mother and three younger brothers to look after you know, so your little temper tantrums will just have to wait for another time." "LET ME DOWN!" I cried, watching the bedroom and then the hallway disappear from my vantage point of looking back over her shoulder, "I want to see Alice. Or Gertie. This needs to stop!" "I've been too nice to you," Katie said, as we headed downstairs, "Miss Alice said that would happen. She said if I gave you any leeway or showed any compassion you'd take advantage of me. Said you'd always been that way. I haven't forgotten how horrid you always were to us maids you know. Always telling us what awful jobs we were doing, and how we were such "lazy girls'. Is that your problem this morning, hmm? Why you don't want to take your little dance lessons? Because you're being a lazy girl?" "I'm not a girl," I hissed, "and yes, you maids are lazy. And it's about time everyone around here remembered that I'm still the head of this estate, and when this is over my memory will be sufficiently long to take action against those who wronged me." "Such big threats from such a pretty little girl," Katie replied, laughing, "I don't think I've ever heard a little girl in a leotard and tights make big threats like that before." She put me down squarely in the middle of the make-shift dance room, which had otherwise served as one of the reading rooms. "This is Miss Flannerty," she said, "I hope you'll be a good girl for her." "Good morning Harriet," the woman said. She was about the same age as Alice, with blonde hair tied into a tight bun atop her head and wearing a more grown up version of the leotard and tights I was too dressed in, with a sheath of cream material around her waist floating softly in the still air and covering the midriff that I was so embarrassed about. "I like your hair. Very pretty." It was only a moment later that I spotted Lucien in the corner of the room, sitting cross-legged in the corner of the room and with arms folded tightly across his chest. As was so often the case he'd fared even worse than me, because while he was dressed in identical leotard and tights, a small pink tutu had been added to his ensemble and his hair had been placed into high bunches with pink ribbon cascading down towards his shoulders. It was hard to believe what had happened to us "men" in such a short space of time. "Alright girls, let's get started," Miss Flannerty said, "there's lots to learn." "No!" I said, looking at Lucien and then down at myself. "This is preposterous. We're not girls. We're grown men and should be treated as such." "There's no point...." Lucien murmured, shaking his head, our roles seemingly reversed. While I didn't think for a second that he'd started deriving any excitement from the events, it seemed he'd reached a depressed point of resignation. Would have been hard not to, when treated like a 4 year old girl for days on end. It really had been tougher for him than me - he didn't even get to change out of his girl clothes in the afternoon, instead having to lug around a cloth dolly and wear his short frocks all bloody day. "We both deserve better," I continued, "I won't continue with this, I simply won't...." "Well, would you look at this!" I turned sharply to find Alice and Polly in the doorway, both women holding large cardboard boxes. Polly was dressed much as she always was in her stable-girl clothes of polyester trousers and cable-knit sweater, but Alice's outfit made me gasp. She was clearly wearing Father's old clothes - a pair of his brown trousers, one of his white shirts and definitely one of his tweed jackets. As well as that she had on a pair of well-polished brown wing-tip brogues and one of his old flat-caps, under which she'd tied her hair in such a way that nothing cascaded downwards to her shoulders. It seemed that just the boxer shorts alone hadn't sated her requirements. "Look at the girls Polly, both so adorable in their dance clothes. What's the matter with you Harriet? I thought we'd come to an understanding?" "What? No! Look at me! I want this to stop. I want my men's clothes back." "Men's clothes," she laughed, looking at Polly and then back to me, "but why would a little girl like you wear men's clothes?" "Stop it Alice," I said. "No really." I watched as Katie whispered something in her ear. "Yes, you're right, aren't you? Must be the long hair. But we obviously haven't made it clear enough to little Harriet yet. I mean, have you ever heard anything more ridiculous? All I see is a little girl in a leotard, who for some reason thinks she should wear men's clothes like me." "You shouldn't be wearing men's clothes! I should." "Oh really. I'll tell you what. If you can lift either of these boxes that Polly and I are carrying, and I'd advise that you go for Polly's because it's the lighter of the two, then I'll let you get changed back into your men's clothes right here and now. If you can't, or you refuse to even try, then I want you to tell me you're sorry for your little tantrum, and that you'll be a good girl and start your lesson." I was really angry now, but also amazed at the offer. She had many failings, but I knew she was someone who'd stick to their word. She always had been. Before Polly had barely put her box on the ground I rushed towards her, and to what I was certain was the end of my ridiculous punishment. "All the way to your chest Harriet," Alice said, "like Polly was holding it." Hovering over it, the box suddenly looked much bigger. My heart began to race. What if I couldn't lift the bloody thing? How could I stand such humiliation? "What's the delay Harriet? You've only got two options. Lift the box, or tell us you'll be a good girl. If you do neither, not only will you stay in your leotard, but your bottom will have an appointment with my belt." Looking down at my feeble body, hair falling around my pink leotard and legs looking terribly thin underneath the pink tights, I became absolutely sure I wouldn't be able to lift the box. Instead, incredibly, I found myself starting to cry, the sheer injustice of the situation too much to bear and my failings as a man all too apparent. Then just the action of crying made me cry even harder, knowing how childish a scene it created. Here I was, a 28 year old man, wearing a little girl's dance outfit and sobbing like a child, when I should have been in the men's clothes that my little sister was now wearing. "See, you know you're not cut out to be the man of the house," Alice said. "Why don't you stop fretting about it and just leave it to me, hey? Now, what do you say?" Through my tears, I stared directly down at the ground. "I'm sorry Daddy, and I'll be a good girl." "Excellent," she replied, rubbing my shoulders, "I was going to let you wear boy's clothes after the dance lesson, but that seems silly now. Katie, would you make sure she wears a nice frock please, like the good girl she is?" As she turned back to Katie, she suddenly stopped and did an about turn. "Actually, you know what? I think half the problem is calling you Harriet. It reminds you too much of your old life. Katie thinks you look a lot like me now, and I agree. Given that I'm now the Father and head of the house, perhaps it makes more sense for you take my old place? I don't need my old name anymore, do I?" She kneeled down and stared me in the eyes. "What do you think, Alice? Wouldn't that be fun? I'll be Daddy and YOU can take my old place as his 8 year-old daughter. See how you like being forced to do all those girly things by Father that I hated so. Let's try it. Tell us what your name is, angel?" I was shaking slightly as she grabbed me by the hand, the arousal that had previously deserted me suddenly returning in droves. "Please...." I whispered, feeling very small. "Come on now girl. Tell us your name." I shook my head slightly. "Alice." "And how old are you?" "Eight." "And who am I? "You're....my...." "Come on Alice." "...Daddy." "Good girl," she said, "so let's not have any more of this man nonsense. I'm the man around here, and you're the little girl, understood. Katie, take the rest of the boy clothes in the cupboards and store them away please. You wouldn't want to wear nasty boy clothes, would you Alice?"