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High-heelsDressed as a young lady for my step-sister’s dinner-party. Phoebe’sglac – k** long gloves. My parentage and boyhood. I am left under theguardianship of a girl. How “Dennis” was transformed into “MissDenise.”************Phoebe the maid, though she was as big and strong as a grenadier, hadthe deft, neat hands of a French woman. She threaded a pink satinribbon amongst the shining curls of my coiffure, buttoned the lastbutton of my very long glac-k** evening gloves, and dusted lightly witha powder-puff my white bosom and shoulders. Then she tucked a tinylace handkerchief in my corsage and said:”There, now you are ready, Miss Denise. Stand up!”” Miss Denise indeed!” and “Stand up!” The insolence of it! I remainedseated.”Ah!” said Phoebe with a malicious smile, 49 you don’t like beingordered about by poor servants, do you? You are the young master ofBeaumanoir, the wealthy aristocrat, the great landlord, Dennis EvelynBeryl,” and she uttered my name with amused contempt.”Bah! – I do not trouble my head about your position-you are in yourown house-it is true, but you are under the control of your beautifulstep-sister who very properly stripped you of your foolish trousers twoyears ago to punish you for your impertinence. You are over eighteenyears old – I admit it, but for two years you have been mincing inpetticoats in a girls’ school. You are a young gentleman, are you?Nobody would believe it. You hair reaches clown below your waist. Youhave the figure, the face, the soft limbs, the hands and feet and thebreasts of a girl.” I was dreadfully ashamed at Phoebe’s outburst. Icould not deny a word of it.”You are a very important person, I suppose,” she went on jeering atme, ” with a great career in Parliament! Heavens how you used toplague my ears with your boastfulness! It may all be true. What I amconcerned with is that you should he beautifully dressed for thedinner-party which your step-sister Miss Deverel is giving on hertwenty-third birthday. Stand up at once, or I will lace you into acorset one inch tighter than the one you are wearing now.””Oh Phoebe,” I cried, “I can hardly breathe in this one.”I was alarmed. Her tone was so menacing. She was much stronger than Iwas. She could carry out her threat if she chose. I stood up. I hada special reason for being obedient to-night.”That’s better, Miss Denise,” she said.I was dressed in an exquisite decollet frock of white transparentchiffon glittering with silver embroideries over an underdress of softwhite satin. The corsage was cut very low, the sleeves being merelyshoulder straps of flashing silver bugles, and my tight unwrinkledwhite k** gloves reached up to my shoulders. A sash of white satinencircled my small waist and was tied in an enormous bow looped througha huge diamond buckle on my left hip, whence the broad streamersfringed with silver floated down to my feet. A bunch of pink roses waspinned on the right of my corsage at the waist. The sheath skirtmolded my legs in its gleaming satin and chiffon, outlining the girlishcurves of my figure and was caught tightly in at the ankles by a scarfof tulle passed through a big sparkling diamond buckle in front of thedress and tied in a great bow behind. My legs were quite bound bythese dainty fetters of satin and tulle. The skirt was hemmed withtulle and was bordered with a festoon of tiny pink roses, and on theleft side a row of flat diamond buttons sparkled up to the knee. Theskirt had a long train of white satin, lined with pleats of tulle whichrustled deliciously at each movement. Phoebe arranged the train in agleaming swirl about my feet, and stood up.” Now Miss Denise, those smartly-gloved hands behind your back!”” Behind my back! Like a c***d!”” Don’t argue. Behind your back with them at once, palm to palm, thefingers pointing down.”I obeyed. How humiliating it was!Now lift up this pretty face.She took my chin and tilted back my head.”I must say, Miss Denise, your governesses have done wonders for you atyour school. You always were a pretty girl of course, but you arequite lovely now.”I blushed – was it altogether from shame, or was there not some thrillof pleasure and of girlish vanity in the blush? Oh my two years at agirls’ school had left their influence upon my disposition.”Now put the high heels of your satin slippers together under yourfrock.”She looked down to the billowy satin and tulle of my skirt.”Have you done it? Are the toes daintily turned out?””Yes Phoebe.””I’ll make sure.”She stooped and thrusting her hand under my dress, felt my feet. Theblushes deepened on my face, and let me be frank – a soft wave ofvoluptuous delight swept over me. I am to write the truth here, at theorder of my guardian and step-sister Helen Deverel, and she knows me sowell that I could not hope to deceive her. Therefore I am frank aboutit. The thought that here was I dressed with all the dainty luxury ofa very fashionable girl, standing obediently with my hands behind me atthe bidding of a maid, while she adjusted my satin-slippered feet inthe attitude of a school-girl troubled my passions. There wassomething sensuously bizarre in the contrast which fascinated me.Besides, apart from the queer mental impression produced in me, theactual touch of Phoebe’s hands on my insteps and ankles gave me adelicious physical sensation. For she was wearing long white glac-k**gloves. I asked her why, and she glanced at me shrewdly.”Miss Priscilla’s orders,” she answered, “No one is to touch you, ordress you without long glac-k** gloves on their hands. But why do youask, Miss Denise?”I was confused.”Did the feel of the gloves on your silk stockings please you? Answerat once.””Yes Phoebe,” I replied shyly.Phoebe nodded her head.”Miss Priscilla is a very wise lady. Now stand without moving untilshe comes to inspect you.”Miss Priscilla, then, that old maid whom I had once been fool enough todespise, had foreseen that the touch of the k**-gloves would make itssensuous appeal to me. She had deliberately intended that it should.Why? My old fear returned to me – a fear that she and Helen Deverelher niece were in a plot together to nullify me, to make me of noimportance, perhaps by some enervating system to reduce me to perpetualsubjection. If so I had reason to shiver; they were so clever, theyhad shown such insight into my character and failings. On the otherhand there was the promise of Helen Deverel given to me in the mostemphatic way two years ago that the day after I returned from thegirls’ school I should be allowed to resume the dress of my sex, if thehead schoolmistress sent me home with a good report. Well I hadreturned this afternoon with an excellent report. Tonight I was to beMiss Denise Beryl, a cousin of Evelyn’s. But tomorrow I was to resumemy liberty. I was to be once more the master of Beaumanoir.I was turning over these doubts in my mind when Phoebe interrupted myreflections.”You have moved your feet, Miss Denise, she said sternly. “In thattight pretty satin frock, every tremor of your limbs is visible.””I wasn’t thinking Phoebe,” I said humbly, “I am sorry.Phoebe was appeased by the humility of my voice.”I will forgive you this once,” she said. “There’s no doubt MissDenise that you ought to be kept in girls’ clothes all your life.””All my life I” I exclaimed horrified.”You are so much easier to manage,” she replied. What a selfishargument! All she thought of was her comfort, not one considerationdid she give to me, my position, the career which awaited me. No! Asa youth, I should give her orders. Under discipline and dressed as agirl I received them from her. That was all she cared about.I was careful not to move again, and Phoebe busied herself in puttingaway the school-girl’s dress which I had laid aside to appear as agrown up young lady in a decollet gown with a long train.While I am waiting thus for Miss Priscilla, let me explain briefly thecircumstances which brought about my present position.My father, who was probably the wealthiest commoner in England, hadinherited the great estate of Beaumanoir in Hampshire, a house in ParkLane and a large fortune in the Funds, which by skilful business he hadgreatly increased. He married late in fife and I, his only c***d, wasborn when he was fifty-two. I was baptized Dennis Evelyn, and thesecond name, which is given to girls as well as to boys, I alwaysresented. I resented it all the more, because in complexion, features,limbs, and figure I was, alas! As the taunts of my school friendsassured me, more like a girl than a boy. My father lost his wife whenI was twelve and a year later married a second time whence came all mytroubles. He married a middle-aged widow Mrs. Deverel, who bad adaughter Helen, a girl just four years older than myself. She was abeautiful girl with dark hair, a pale sweet face and a slim figure.She had the most winning manners and at once set herself to charmeverybody. She succeeded with everybody except me.I resented my father’s marriage, and the intrusion of these new peopleinto our house. I would not call the new Mrs. Beryl, “mother,” norHelen “sister.” Mrs. Beryl was considerate and Helen laid herself outto please me, but I distrusted them both. I always had a fear thatthey meant to take my place in my father’s affections and oust me frommy inheritance.I remember particularly one day when I was home for the holidays. Iwas thirteen at the time, Helen s*******n; she stopped me as I went outof the drawing-room, and as she came in, she laid her little hand uponmy arm and said wistfully:”Evelyn, can’t we be good friends ? I am so unhappy that you dislikeme. “The name Evelyn irritated me. I looked at her ironically and replied”I suppose that you really want to marry me, to get hold of my fortune,don’t you?”It was a foolish answer. If it had not been uttered I might not bestanding now in the fashionable ball-dress of a wealthy young lady,waiting the moment when I should take my place at her birthday dinnerparty, a living tribute to her domination from the Louis Quinze heelsof my smart satin-slippers to the pink ribbon in my curls. For to thatfoolish answer I attribute the beginnings of her hatred and resentment.She turned away deeply wounded and never made advances to me again.That same year in the autumn my step-mother died and the shock of herdeath prostrated my father. He was then sixty-five. He had a greataffection for Helen and a great faith in her capacity; and at hersuggestion, Miss Priscilla Deverel, an Aunt of hers, was introducedinto the household to act as companion to Helen and to assist her inthe management of the house. Miss Priscilla was really a remarkablewoman. She was a fully qualified doctor and had amongst lady-doctors agreat medical reputation. She gave up her practice to join us. But tome at this time she seemed merely a harmless, slightly ridiculous oldmaid. She was forty-seven or so when she came to Beaumanoir, awrinkled thin ungainly woman, who dressed very badly, was very patientand submissive, and whom I treated with the utmost disregard. I didnot resent her presence in the house, as I did Helen’s. For I lookedupon her as of no importance whatever. The first time I had any doubtabout her was a year later when I was ill with a cold: I was thenbetween f******n and fifteen, and Helen brought her to my bedroom. Atfirst I would not allow her to examine my chest, but Helen threatenedto tell my father of my refusal and to send for a doctor from London.That for a special reason I dreaded. I let Miss Priscilla open mynight-gown and I saw at once – for my pride was on the look-out – aflash of wonder on her face. I flushed scarlet. I had a secret whichI had always tried to conceal. My bosom was much too developed for aboy’s and developing as I grew. I had not merely the nipples of a boy,but the white globes of a girl’s breasts threatened to becomeprominent. Miss Priscilla examined them carefully. Then she turned toHelen and exchanged with her a significant look. When she looked againat me a slow smile of triumph was spreading over her face. It seemedto say: “I have got you,” and when she went out of the room I thoughtwith some discomfort of the impertinences which I had showered uponher. However, I soon took courage. She could do me no harm, Ithought. What a fool I was!The next term an episode occurred of which it is difficult for me towrite. But I must refer to it, because it affected my futuretremendously. I was, as I have confessed, girlish to look at althoughI took my part in the games of the school and my appearance broughtupon me a great deal of chaff and ridicule. It also brought upon methe attentions of the bigger boys in the Sixth Form. One of them, ayouth of nineteen called Guy Repton, pestered me. One afternoon Istruck him, and gave him a black eye. He attacked me, a master caughtus struggling. Guy Repton was expelled in disgrace, and my father wasasked to take me away. The head master wrote to my father as follows:”Dennis is not to blame for the scandal at all, but he looks so muchlike a pretty girl that I think him unsuited for a boys’ school.”Accordingly I returned home, and nobody knew what to do with me. Icould not go to another school. I was too young for the University. Istayed at home for six months. My father was already sickening withhis last illness. There was no one to control me; and no doubt Ibullied the servants, was tyrannical and threatening to the tenants,was rude to Helen and contemptuous of Miss Priscilla. Miss Priscillabad precise old-maidish neatnesses which it was a pleasure to me tooffend. To stamp about the drawing-room in noisy muddy boots, to flingmyself on delicately upholstered sofas in dirty football clothes -these things I delighted to do because I saw how much they shocked herand offended Helen. Finally Helen made a suggestion to my father thatI should be sent round the world with a tutor for a year. My fatherwas delighted with the idea. He was very ambitious for me.”There is no reason, my boy, why you should make money. I have donethat. You must make a famous name. Marry and begin a great familywhich shall be associated the history of the country.”Oh, how well I remember him saying that! Helen and Miss Priscilla wereboth at his bedside at the time, and both looking at me with a quizzingenigmatical smile which I did not understand.” You must go into Parliament, become a Cabinet Minister, perhaps PrimeMinister. Therefore go round the world Dennis and improve your mind.”I went, grateful to Helen, but after I had started I began to wonderwhether Helen had not some ulterior purpose. Whether she had notremoved me from my father’s neighbourhood in order to oust me byslanders from his affections and rob me of my inheritance. I wrote tohim therefore warning him against Helen and Miss Priscilla.” They are both of them designing women, I am sure. They wish tointrigue me out of my proper position as your son.”It was an unfortunate letter, for it came into Helen’s handsultimately. But at the same time it had its influence on my father.For a couple of months later, I received a telegram announcing myfather’s death and that he had bequeathed the whole of his immensefortune to me, with a request that I should make Helen such anallowance as I thought sufficient for her and Miss Priscilla. Therewas however a thorn in that as in every rose. I was not to come intomy inheritance until I was twenty-five, and until that time Helen wasappointed my guardian. I resented extremely the idea of being subjectto Helen who certainly disliked me and at this time was only twentyyears old herself. However I reflected that I had the whip hand ofher. For she would be absolutely dependant upon me and my money forher meals. I returned to London where I found a letter from Helenasking me to go and see Mr. Willowes the solicitor. Now Mr. Willoweswas a friend of Helen’s and she had removed the entire affairs of thefamily from our old solicitor, who had looked after them for twentyyears, into this new man’s hands. I went to see him in a haughty moodof displeasure.”I don’t approve of the change,” I said foolishly, “and I shall restorethe business into the hands of our old solicitor when I come of age.”Mr. Willowes, a young sardonic looking man, twirled his moustache withan ironical smile.”It is very kind of you to give me warning. Meanwhile here is yourfirst-class railway ticket to Beaumanoir. I have paid off your tutor.Miss Deverel expects you this afternoon and if you will take a word ofadvice, young gentleman, you will change your tone with her. You aresixteen and a half. She has complete control of you for the next eightyears and I rather think that she has had enough of your ill-manners.Good morning.”Wild with rage I was shown out of the office. I had hardly any money.I had to go down to Beaumanoir, and at once Helen threw off the mask.I arrived late, and I noticed that all the footmen and men-servants hadbeen dismissed. There were only the women now and new women-servantsin addition, all big and handsome and strong.”You have just time to dress for dinner,” said Phoebe, “if you willhurry.””I shall be late,” I replied. “How is it that there are no valets?””You must ask Miss Helen.”I had my bath and coming back into my bedroom I found Phoebe stillthere.”What are you doing here? You can go,” I said and I saw to my surprisethat she was holding up a dainty corset of white satin.”I must lace you into this first Master Evelyn,” she said impudently.”How dare you? What impertinence!” I began and I saw her move to thebell. “What are you going to do?” I cried.”Ring the bell for some of the other servants if you are going to besilly. I have definite orders from Miss Helen to lace you into acorset and smarten you up.”I remembered with a sinking heart Mr. Willowes’ advice. I couldn’thave a struggle with a lot of women-servants. It was a question I mustsettle privately with Helen. A minutes conversation would settle thematter and put a stop to the repetition of any such nonsense. Iallowed Phoebe to lace me up in a woman’s corset. What a strangeluxurious sensation it was! An enervating, captivating sensationagainst which I felt the need to struggle. I had a feeling now ofbeing really in a woman’s power. The delicate thing, all lace andsatin outside, but relentless as steel in its grip, seemed to me anepitome and a symbol of women. The rest of this story will show thatmy intuition was correct. My hair I had carelessly allowed to growlong. Phoebe curled it. I noticed that my new dress trousers had aline of little effeminate black satin buttons running for a few inchesfrom the hem upwards on the outside of each leg. They were short tooand exposed my ankles which were clad in very fine black silk stockingsfixed up to my corset instead of in socks and my shoes werepatent-leather girls’ pumps with neat flat bows and the straightAmerican heels, higher of course than those which men wear. But Ithought I could easily hide these. Helen was already at table when Iwent down with five or six of her friends, Mr. and Mrs. Kivers, oldGeneral Carstairs, a regular degenerate and some others.”Ah here’s the androgyne!” Helen cried as I entered the room. “Comeand sit down! How do you like your corset and your bright littleshoes?”The company tried not to laugh. I was so confused that I wished thefloor would open and swallow me up. I ate my dinner not knowing whereto look.”We have just been discussing your future, Evelyn dear,” said Helen.” I prefer not to discuss my future with acquaintances,” I repliedhaughtily.” There’s no reason why you should,” said Helen, “for we have settledit with a unanimous vote. You are too young still for College. Forreasons of which you are aware, you cannot be safely sent to a boys’school.I grew scarlet.”And you are too overbearing and untidy and impossible to remain athome with a tutor. There is only one thing left for you, dear, andthat’s a girls’ school.I started up in a rage.”This is really too much.”” Come with me,” said Helen, with a look on her face which frightenedme. She had absolute control of me for eight years. She took me up tomy bedroom.” I am quite serious about this Evelyn,” she said in a gentle voice.”It is the only thing to be done. I don’t know whether you are awarethat I can, if I think you fit for your position, let you come of agewhen you are twenty-one. If you behave very obediently as a girl fortwo years at the girls’ school to which I am going to send you, I mayperhaps shorten your minority.”It was a strong inducement. Besides, she need not have offered anyinducement. She had the right to do with me what she liked. I saw noescape.”Of course if I go as a girl to a girls’ school for two years, I shallbe allowed to dress as a man at the end.””If your school-mistress reports favourably. I don’t want to seemunkind.”I had to consent. During the next day, I was busy with Helen’sdressmakers, Helen’s milliner, Helen’s bootmakers, Helen’s corsetire.In ten days I was fetched by a governess. I went by train in thesummer uniform of the school – a pretty pink frock of ninon, anklelength, a big white straw hat, long brown glac-k** gloves, and patentleather button boots with very high heels. At the school I had abedroom to myself, no one knew or found out that I was not a girl and Iwent through the most rigid system imaginable all designed to make mecompletely girlish in mind and body. Hair was removed from every partof my body, except my head, by electric needles and depilatories.Every morning and every evening I was massaged for an hour to reduce mywaist and develop my bust, and soften my limbs. Exercises with thesame object were carefully supervised. I wore face-masks for mycomplexion, gloves at night to whiten my hands. My skin was carefullytended, my hair treated with lotions and so successfully that it grewextraordinarily thickly and in two years hung down below my waist. Iwas never allowed to see myself in a mirror, for fear, I suppose, lestI should revolt against the system. But of course I was none the lessaware that curves were coming where before there had been angles, thatthe muscles were all vanishing from my legs and arms which werenaturally round, that my breasts were developing into the pretty whiteround delicately-veined apples of a girl. I was now back at home,waiting for Miss Priscilla to inspect the result. I was in a bedroomwhich had been altogether refurnished in mauve. Over a thick carpet acovering of mauve glac-k** had been tightly stretched, delicious tofeel under one’s feet. The room was a girl’s bedroom, thedressing-table covered with feminine bottles of perfume and lotion,jewelled powder boxes, gold-backed brushes. Why I asked myself since Iwas to be a youth again tomorrow? A beautiful little marble-tiledbathroom led from it on one side, and a dainty boudoir on the other.The bed was an exquisite thing in the shape of a swan. It wasaltogether a lovely suite of rooms – for a girl.”I shall not sleep here tomorrow, “I said to myself, and then the dooropened and Miss Priscilla entered carrying a number of leatherjewel-cases in her hands.Chapter TwoMiss Priscilla inspects me. In silk stockings and slippers. I am tobe punished. Helen’s delight at my changed appearance. What two yearsat a girls’ school can do. My bosom and Miss Priscilla’s theory.Helen tempts me to subjection in vain.************I had despised her two years ago. I shivered with alarm now. Yet shehad not changed. She was the same neat, precise, thin, elderlyspinster with the patient air of submission. It was I who had changedand at her bidding. At an age when even the poorest of youths begin togain their liberty, I probably the very richest in the country, thehead of one of the oldest families in the country had been calmlystripped of mine by this old maid and her niece; and they had been ableto do it through their insight into my character. That is what Isuspected at the time. What I was soon to know was the truth.Miss Priscilla was dressed in a high-necked plain gown of grey silk;she wore the flat square-toed ugly shoes which used to excite myridicule. The solitary touch of luxury about her was a long pair ofglac-k** white gloves which she wore upon her arms. She looked at mecoldly, critically; there was no expression upon her face and so muchhad my two years at the girls’ school done to effeminatize me that Ibecame curious as to what she thought of my looks and a little hurt -yes, let me admit it – a little hurt that she was not betrayed into anexpression of admiration. She opened the leather-cases and a ripplingfire of jewels at once made the room glorious to my girlish eyes. Sheadvanced to me. They were for me then those glittering streams ofdiamonds, those lustrous rows of pearls! Oh I loved jewels! She fixeda high collar of diamonds round my throat with a diamond bow and a tinydiamond tassel dangling from it, just behind the left ear. She passeda double row of magnificent pearls round my shoulder which hung down tomy waist. She fixed earrings of big pearls set with diamonds in myears which had been pierced. She fixed a diamond star amongst mycurls, a diamond brooch in the roses at my waist.”Give me your hands, Denise,” she said and on my wrists she fastenedlovely bracelets of gold flashing with diamonds and pigeon-bloodrubies. They were very tight, and then she fixed another similar pairabove my elbows smoothing up my long gloves carefully before sheclasped them on.”They will keep your pretty gloves tidy and smooth, she said. “Now youcan join your hands again behind your back.” With each movement thesoft fire of the flashing stones ran over me like water. Oh now Iwished to see myself in them! There were a couple of big full-lengthmirrors with three panels each such as one sees in a dressmaker’satelier. But the panels were closed.”What is Miss Denise’s waist-measure?” Miss Priscilla asked of Phoebe.”Nineteen inches, Miss,” replied Phoebe.”And the height of her heels?”Four inches.”Miss Priscilla nodded her approval; she turned to me”Have you your big diamond buckles on your satin slippers?””Yes Miss Priscilla,” I replied blushing.”Lift your skirt and let me see!”With a shy smile of pleasure – I could not help smiling – I raised inmy delicately-gloved fingers the exquisite satin frock. There cameinto view a pair of small slender feet in exquisitely-cut, new,glistening, white satin slippers with wonderful arched narrow LouisQuinze heels, pointed toes embroidered with pearls, butterfly bows ofdainty white tulle and mounted on the bows big blazing diamond buckles.The slim little slippers were posed with the heels together and thetoes turned out as Phoebe had arranged them. The skirt rose higher, apair of round arched insteps and small finely molded ankles showedprettily pink through tightly-strained stockings of white silk withlace insertions. I had never seen such stockings, never even dreamedof things so beautiful. They were of the finest gossamer, transparentas cobwebs, filmy delicious ornaments rather than coverings with a softsheen upon which was lovely. Stockings and slippers were fit for someblushing beautiful dbutante of high birth and enormous wealth, to makeher curtsey in before her Queen. No one else could have afforded them.Miss Priscilla stooped and held out her hands.”Give me those pretty feet.”Coquettishly I hesitated, just like a pretty girl who pretends modestythe better to display what she knows to be her best points.”Oh Miss Priscilla,” I said.”At once, Denise.”I extended a foot. She took it in her hands, tried the buckle to makecertain that it was secure, felt the slipper to see that it was tightenough and measured the heel.”They are very pretty, she said with cold content.”Put them together again Denise. You disobeyed me.””Miss Priscilla, I only hesitated.”You were trying your little coquetries on me, Denise,” she said with ashrewd smile which brought the blushes to my face. “But I punishcoquetry. You were indulging your vanity by making play with yourdainty slippers and I punish vanity Denise. You will go down to dinnerand sit through dinner with your pretty mouth gagged.”A very good thing for Miss Denise,” said Phoebe delightedly.I was startled.”Oh Miss Priscilla! I am to sit amongst the guests at a dinner-party -in this lovely frock – in these satin slippers and stockings – with mymouth gagged!””Yes Denise!””Diamond shoe buckles and high heels for my feet and a gag for mymouth. Oh, oh!” I gasped.Poignant emotions stirred me, troubled me, provoked my passions. I amto tell the whole truth. I was ashamed but I anticipated thepunishment with a strange secret thrill of delight. Ever since I hadbeen a boy, I had been from time to time besieged with queer fancieswhich at first I had laughed at, which afterwards at once fascinated meand frightened me. I recognized in them a danger to my character, tomy ambitions and an obstacle to the great career which lay before me.I had dreamed, in a word, of a world in which ladies to punish me,dressed me as a girl in the most exquisite of frocks and high-heeledshoes, gloves and corsets and, then laughing at my pretensions to acareer, kept me in bondage and subjection as a toy for their amusement.I had fought against these fancies because I felt them to beenervating, effeminatizing, and likely to sap my will. I had ridiculedthem as preposterous. Yet they seemed part of my nature, they returnedand now – they were translated into fact, and being translated intofact fascinated and obsessed me with a force a thousand times strongerthan ever. If it had thrilled me with strange delightful emotions toimagine myself dressed in the luxurious gowns of a fashionable girl,undergoing punishments and humiliations and dainty tortures at thehands of a laughing beautiful woman deaf to my prayers, how much morewas I of necessity thrilled and excited when the dream became true asit was true now!I tried however to struggle against the strange sweet pleasure whichinvaded me. For I knew that Helen hated me, that she thought I had byinheriting my father’s fortune, robbed her; and I was afraid that sheand Miss Priscilla were seeking by mastering me completely to get itback. I was afraid that Miss Priscilla, with her knowledge ofpsychopathia, had guessed my secret fancies and by translating theminto fact was seeking to reduce me to a willing servitude. Was Iright? Let the reader read on. Meanwhile the pleasure mastered thefear as it had done before. For it was the enervating pleasure of adream fulfilled which made me offer so miserable a resistance to myfirst corset and my banishment to a girls’ school. There! The truthis out.Miss Priscilla had one more question to ask of me as I stood therebefore the mirror with my ivory ankles together and the big bucklesflashing on my glistening slippers.”There was a third, tight white k**-glove I arranged for you to wear.Have you it on?” I went scarlet. But if I did not answer I should bepunished. I hung my head.”Yes Phoebe buttoned it on,” I replied in a whisper of confusion. MissPriscilla was content.”It will teach you to be modest in the presence of women, Denise, andto remember that you are under their authority. You will wear italways.”She pulled down my skirt and arranged it so that the toes of myslippers and an inch of silk-stockinged instep were exposed. As shefinished, Helen, looking beautiful in a sweeping dcollet gown of blackvelvet and shoulder length white k**-gloves entered the room.I had not to complain of any want of admiration on her part at allevents. A look of wonder and delight shone in her face. She uttered alittle rapturous cry. She ran to me, hugged me and with passionatekisses bruised my lips.”Denise! I am proud of you.”I hung my head, conscious for a moment to the full of my humiliation.I was her victim.”Oh Denise!” She laid her face against mine with a bubbling laugh ofdelight. “Your cheek is as soft and fresh as a peach. You are alovely girl.””I am not a girl,” I protested.”Aren’t you darling? You shall decide for yourself.”One of the great mirrors was placed behind me. Oh, how excited Ibecame! At last after two years I was to see what they had made of me.The second was placed in front of me unfolded and the bulbs of electriclight which surrounded the frame of the mirrors and were so shaded asto throw the full light of their rays upon the person standing in frontof them, were turned on. I stood in a blaze of light. I stared atmyself. I uttered a cry and covered my face with my hands.”Oh I am! I am a girl!” I admitted with a sigh.I saw a girl, fair face, mine but refined, softened, improved out ofknowledge. A wealth of fair glinting hair, done up in the mostfashionable style crowned it. A broad white forehead and archedeyebrows darker than my curls, big wistful eyes of dark blue with longdark eyelashes, a delicate nose, cheeks in which the colour came andwent. The colour of pale rose-leaves, red lips in a Cupid’s bowsmiling (alas! they were smiling now) and showing a perfect set ofsmall white teeth, a small rounded chin, little ears – such was EvelynBeryl when he came back from school. Thus Violet Hind described me ina letter. Violet and Doris Hind were cousins of Helen. They had cometo live with Helen just before I had gone away with my tutor. Violetwas a very pretty auburn-haired girl six months younger than myself.Doris was fifteen. I spare myself the humiliation of describing myselfby quoting from her letter which Helen has given me to use. It goeson.”The small dainty head is supported on a slender white throat whichrises from a dimpled lovely white girl’s bosom and shoulders. He hasthe round white breasts of a girl. The pretty valley between them, thelittle rose-petals, everything. His figure is slender, the legs long,the feet and hands delicious. He is tall, in his high-heeled shoestaller than Helen and about the same height as Miss Priscilla. He is agirl.”This is what I saw in the mirror – this girl sparkling with jewels fromher feet to her curls, and dressed for a ball in the London season.Helen was in raptures. She might well be, since this was her doing.”You have exceeded all my expectations, darling,” she said.With little cries of delight, she ran her gloved hands over me, feelingand pinching me behind until I was scarlet.”Oh Helen, You mustn’t,” I protested.”Nonsense, dear! I am your guardian, keep still, else I will whip thebig soft girlish thing.””Oh, oh!”An excruciating sensation made me blush more than ever.”Whip it – in this lovely frock,” I said shyly.”Ah,” cried Helen enthusiastically, “you love your exquisite satinfrock darling, don’t you?” It rustled delightfully under her hands.”And the tulle band here with the big sparkling buckle in front and thebig bow behind?””It ties my ankles delightfully,” I stammered.Oh was it I who was speaking ? “It is like a soft caress upon mylimbs.”Helen applauded me with a radiant face. She ran her daintily glovedhands down the dress behind feeling through its thin texture my legsand calves.”They’re charming,” she cried. “They are as soft as butter. And youlove your stockings too, Denise, don’t you, the exquisite stockings Ideck you out in?”The feel of her hands pinching affectionately my calves, her dainty airof mastery – as though she owned me – intoxicated me.”They are deliciously cool,” I said.”And your white satin slippers with the high-heels and the pretty bowsand the sparkling buckles, you love them too? Lift up her dress to theknees Phoebe. You love your little girl’s shoes, Denise?”Phoebe raised my skirt until the knees, the white satin garters withthe big bows and buckles and the dainty frills of my batiste pantalonwere visible.”Look in the mirror Denise and tell me gratefully that you love them!””If I have got to wear girl’s shoes,” I replied blushing deeply, theymay as well have high-heels and diamond buckles.” Something strongerthan myself made me speak. In the midst of her delight Helen exchangeda quick glance with Miss Priscilla. It was a glance of triumph and itput me on my guard.Phoebe let fall my dress and Helen took me round the waist. You aredelightful Denise. You are quite a girl now with that pretty whitebosom.””Yes, Ma’am,” said Phoebe, “the breasts have come up wonderful. Ithink Miss Denise ought to be grateful to Miss Priscilla for thetrouble she has taken in arranging the proper exercises and massage andmedicines.”Oh there was no difficulty,” said Miss Priscilla, “the moment Idiscovered that Denise had the milk vessels of a woman, I had no doubtthat we could fit him with as pretty a pair of girl’s white breasts asany young lady could wish for.””The milk vessels,” cried Phoebe with a laugh, “then Miss Denise is afreak?””Not at all,” said Miss Priscilla calmly. “The men of the primitivetribes used to have the milk-vessels. Miss Denise may be a chancereturn to the primitive type. Or originally it might have been thatnature was going to give Evelyn a twin sister, and that their embryosgot mixed. That happens not infrequently.Helen laughed.”In any case, Denise has a girl’s bosom – for life. She touched themwith her gloved fingers and daintily caressed them with littletitillations of the nipples, sending waves of delicious sensationthrough my veins. “They are a real punishment, dear, for all thetrouble you have given us. You can’t get rid of them as you could ofyour girl’s shoes and stockings if we were to let you. They are apermanent proof to you of the wisdom of being gentle and obedient towomen.””But you are going to let me get rid of my girl’s shoes and stockingsto-morrow. You promised faithfully, Helen,” I said.Helen held me firmly, caressed me, bruised my lips with burning kisses.”You don’t want to get rid of them Denise. You love them! You loveyour dainty frocks. You will be much happier as a girl.”She pleaded with me, her voice, the perfume of her breath, the feel ofher limbs through my dress against mine tempted me. I felt inclined tolet myself go in her arms, to say, “Helen I belong to you.” But Iremembered my ambitions.”No, no I have your word,” I cried. “I must be a man. I am to marryand begin a great family.”The three women burst out laughing, confusing me dreadfully.Helen cried:”Oh Denise I would love to see your wife’s face when she firstdiscovers your girl’s bosom. No, no my dear, you shall love yourpretty frocks, your smart corsets, your long gloves and your lovelylittle high-heeled slippers.””No, no,” I insisted obstinately, and Helen with an exclamation ofannoyance let me go. She had after all only pretended to beaffectionate, though she had very nearly deceived me. Now her facebecame stern with anger. She looked at me with threatening eyes.”Very well,” she said, “but I warn you Denise, you will come on yourknees to me to ask me to put you back into girl’s clothes. Now go downto the drawing-room, and take care how you walk. Point your toes, archyour feet. Here’s your fan!”She gave me a lovely fan of ivory and gold. I turned from her towardsthe door when Miss Priscilla called me back.”You forget that you have to be punished, Denise, she said calmly; andshe told Helen of my coquetry and of the punishment she meant toinflict.Chapter ThreeA humiliating preliminary to punishment. Gagged at my step-sister’sdinner-party. Lady Hartley’s views about young ladies. “They shouldbe dressed beautifully and treated as dainty convicts.” I am bound,fettered and caned in my evening frock and high-heeled shoes. In thecorner, like a c***d under Miss Priscilla’s observation.************”Certainly she must be punished,” said Helen. She pushed towards me agilt chair with a white satin seat.”Lift your skirt carefully, Denise, and kneel on this chair,” she saidsternly.A little frightened, I obeyed at once this humiliating order. Helendipped a pen in the ink upon the writing-table.”It is the rule in this house, Denise,” she said, “that one punishmentalways involves a second to be inflicted later on; and so that we maynot forget it we make a note of it upon the sole of one of theculprit’s smart shoes.””Oh!” I protested. “I am to be punished twice for the same fault.””That is the rule. It teaches pretty young ladies to be careful toavoid punishment altogether.”She took my instep in her hand and stooped over my feet. My positionwas of course extraordinarily humiliating. But the feel of her glovedhand on my round, warm, silk-stockinged instep, and the sight of her inthe mirror as she wrote down in a tiny hand on the new white sole of mydainty satin-slipper the punishment I was to endure, fixing upon me theevidence of my disgrace, sent a voluptuous thrill through my blood.”Now stay as you are, Denise, until the ink is dry, she said, and,laying down the pen, she adjusted my feet, taking care with her usuallove of neatness, that my ankles were pressed together, and myhigh-heels and pointed toes exactly level.Miss Priscilla meanwhile squeezed and rolled into a ball a small lacehandkerchief which she had been soaking in Eau-de-Cologne. She cameover to me with the ball in her hand.”Open your mouth, Denise!”I obeyed. She thrust the handkerchief into my mouth.”Close your mouth now, dear!”The Eau-de-Cologne burnt my tongue and the roof of my mouth in the mostpainful way. Tears rifled my eyes.” Oh! Oh!” I cried in a stifled voice, wringing my hands.Miss Priscilla smiled at my sufferings.”The Eau-de-Cologne will keep your mouth fresh and sweet, darling,” shesaid and she took up a bigger handkerchief of the finest lawn andcarefully folded it. This she adjusted over my lips and tied the endvery tightly behind at the back of my hair, binding my mouth so that Icould not utter a sound.”Now stand up Denise!”I stood up and Miss Priscilla carefully smoothed down my shining skirt.What a bizarre spectacle met my eyes in the mirror! I saw a grown-upgirl in an exquisite evening gown of white satin with her mouth gagged,her white throat and bosom flashing with jewels, her white-gloved handstoying with a pretty fan, the delicate bows and bright buckles of herluxurious little slippers, peeping out from delicious billows of whitetulle.But what made the spectacle so piquant and seductive to me was theknowledge that the pretty girl was myself, an effeminate youth incorsets with his k**-gloved hands quite free. He could have torn thegag from his lips in a second. There were only two ladies to preventhim. But he did not dare. He was undergoing discipline in girls’frocks and pearl-embroidered satin slippers at their hands. He wasbeing punished by them. He was in subjection.”Now go downstairs into the drawing-room, Denise,” said Helen. “Ourguests will be arriving in a minute.”I was to be seen by her guests in this ignominious condition. Theshame of it came home to me. I looked piteously at Helen. But therewas no sign of relenting in her face. Luckily, I thought, the guestswill not recognize me. It is only Denise the girl whom they will seewith the gag in her mouth and Denise disappears for ever to-morrow. Ipicked up the train of my frock and went sadly out of the room. As Iturned to latch the door, I heard Helen ask:”Well, what do you think?”And Miss Priscilla reply:”… In a few weeks he will be the prettiest fetichiste-du-pied in theworld.” And then they both laughed heartlessly.I was troubled by the words. What was a fetichiste-du-pied? I mustfind out. I had an intuition that phrase was the secret to the riddle,was the clue to the plot they had concocted to nullify and ruin me.But I had no time to think about it now. My heels were so high andthin, my skirt so tight, that I had to be extremely careful in goingdownstairs. There were two big maids like Phoebe waiting in the hallto receive the guests and they both burst out laughing when they sawme. They knew who I was at all events and my cheeks grew hot withshame.There was no one as yet in the drawing-room, but my heart sank at theordeal in front of me.I heard a light quick step outside and Doris Hind, now a lovely girl offifteen in a smart little short frock of pale pink mousseline de solewith black silk stockings and patent leather slippers ran into theroom. A bright fire was burning in the grate; I turned to it, to hidemy gag as long as I could.” Who are you, you pretty thing?” she asked.I could not answer.”What’s the matter ?She turned me round and saw the gag over my mouth. She stared at meastonished for a moment. Then the truth broke in upon her and sheclapped her hands with pleasure.”You are Denise. And Helen has gagged you. How delicious! You are aperfect girl now, Denise.”I blushed to the roots of my hair, and u*********sly I placed one footupon the fender to warm it, lifting my skirt an inch or two. Dorisuttered a rapturous cry.”What adorable feet! And, oh Denise, what divine little satinslippers. Let me see!” I blushed again, but this time it was withpleasure.”What lovely buckles and what fairy-like bows! And those dear littlepearl-embroidered toes! And what jolly high-heels. Show me yourankles!”I raised the skirt higher, and the delicate cleanly rounded ankle inits shimmering cobweb of silk and lace came into view. Doris went intoan ecstasy. “I should like to perch you on still higher heels dear,and keep you in a glass case to show to my friends. That’s really allthat you are fit for now. Walk across the room you exquisite thing,and let me see how daintily you can do it in your beautiful high-heeledshoes.” I was delighted with her admiration, but I shook my head at herrequest.At once she stamped her foot peremptorily. “Quick, or I’ll punishyou,” she cried. “Pick up your train and let me see those bucklesflashing on your dainty butterfly bows this instant.”I submitted. I was beginning to learn that one of the inevitableconsequences of allowing myself to be dressed as a girl was thateveryone, even young girls like Doris, who knew the secret, treated meas a little c***d in spite of my long dcollet gown and fine jewels. Iwalked daintily across the room and back. Doris applauded me laughing.”I don’t know a girl, Denise, who wouldn’t envy your figure and yourfeet and ankles. Oh, but you must be kept in high-heeled shoes allyour life! It would be ridiculous now that Helen has got you so smartand pretty to let you go back into stupid trousers.”At that moment Helen and Miss Priscilla came into the room; and theguests began to arrive. There was Mrs. Dawson the clergyman’s wife,Lady Hartley and her pretty daughter who was just out; Mr. and Mrs.Charles Rivers, about twenty people altogether, mostly young and all ofthem neighbours whom I had known as a boy. I was introduced to them asDenise Beryl, a cousin, and Helen explained how I came to be punishedwith a gag. I had to stand and listen, but my cheeks burned withshame.”Denise is unfortunately very vain,” said Helen. “I had to punish herbecause she would show off her feet in an unlady-like way.””She is very lucky to have got off so easily,” said Lady Hartley withseverity looking down at my feet through her glasses. “I should notonly have gagged her, I should have taken her pretty slippers away fromher altogether,” and then to my amazement and my horror, “Mr. GuyRepton” was announced and my old schoolfellow came into the room.He had been expelled in disgrace because of me. How did Helen come toknow him ? Her first words explained.”This is my new steward and agent,” she said as she introduced him. Iwas horrified. He was the new manager of my estates. He was a youngman of twenty two with a fair moustache. Helen had given him a fineposition, a good income. She must have sought him out on purpose,because I had caused his disgrace. She wished to surround me with myenemies, I felt sure. A subtle stroke of hers was thus brought to mynotice. Guy Repton would be grateful to her and already he hated me.Helen did not even pretend to conceal the reason for her choice of him.She darted a triumphant look at me. I felt more and more helpless inher hands.We were waiting for dinner to be announced, when Lady Hartley, ahandsome matron of forty-five, came to me, took me by the arm, and ledme into a little drawing room which led off from the big one. Shepointed to a sofa.”Lie down there on your face, young lady,” and as I hesitated, shepinched my ear painfully. “At once.” Reluctantly I stretched myselfout on the sofa. Oh, what did she mean to do with me ?”I saw something written on the sole of your slipper, as you walkedacross the room,” she said. “A punishment of course.” She felt for myfoot under my satin gown and lifted it up, read Helen’s note. Shelooked puzzled. “I wonder what it means,” she said. “You can get up.”We went back into the big room. Violet, Doris’s elder sister had justcome down.”I am very sorry for being late,” she faltered breathlessly, with afrightened appeal to Helen. She looked perfectly lovely in a chiffongown of nattier blue, which set off her white skin, and her fair hairto perfection. Helen looked sternly at her, but did not answer.Dinner was announced.”Mr. Repton, will you take in Denise,” said Helen. “I am sorry tohave to give you so silent a companion.”I sat gagged at the dinner-table bright with flowers, amongst thosesmartly dressed people, unable to eat, unable to talk. I felt terriblyhumiliated. It was cruel to make me come down to dinner at all. Ifound it difficult to breathe. I was very hungry besides. It was allI could do not to burst into tears. To make things worse the companybegan to talk about me Evelyn Beryl. “It is such a pity that he iscoming home to-morrow,” said Mrs. Dawson.” It has been so pleasant andpeaceful tuzla escort here while he has been at his girls’ school.” Everyone agreed.It was a revelation to me how thoroughly unpopular I was. I feltashamed of my past behaviour.”I think you will all find him greatly changed for the better,” saidHelen with a smile. “His head-mistress’s report speaks most highly ofhis docility and his ladylike ways.” How I blushed. Luckily no oneknew that I was present except Helen.”I can quite believe it,” said Guy Repton with a hateful snigger. “Ithink that you are all a little unjust to poor Evelyn. I don’t thinkthat his nature is really bad, but as a boy he was not in his properposition. He must have known that dressed in male clothes he lookedsilly and ridiculous, and no doubt he felt uncomfortable, and that veryprobably made him arrogant and intolerable. But dressed and treated asa girl he would no longer have that feeling of discomfort. He wouldprobably be quite charming.” I could have boxed Guy Repton’s ears forhis impertinence. “Very likely you are right,” said Lady Hartley, “butthen he ought to be kept a girl an his life.””Oh yes,” cried Mrs. Rivers turning enthusiastically to Helen. I hadthrown a stone through the drawing-room window of her house, just aftershe and Charles Rivers had got married. She had never forgiven me.Helen shook her head.I promised him that he should not have to wear girls’ clothes after thetwo years if he behaved himself.” She made a sign to Netta one of theparlor-maids. Netta took the handkerchief from my mouth and the secondone from between my lips. My face was revealed, and Mrs. Rivers criedout enthusiastically, “Oh what a pretty girl!”I blushed with pleasure, and then the most unfortunate event occurred.I had been sitting with my napkin on my lap, although I had no dinner.I had been consumed with curiosity to know what strange punishment itwas which Helen had written down on the sole of my foot. So, while therest were talking I had slipped off my left shoe. Then dropping mynapkin I had stooped to pick it up and at the same time I picked up init the dainty high heeled slipper. I held it carefully in my lap andread on the white smartly shaped new sole the words “The glass-boxes.”I was wondering what strange punishment the punishment of the”glass-boxes could be with a thrill of awe, and believing that no onebad seen my manoeuvre, when Mrs. Rivers uttered her admiring cry; butLady Hartley had been watching me and she said at once severely: “Yes,a very pretty girl who has kicked one of her dainty slippers off.”I hung my head in confusion.”Is that true Denise ? Let me see!” said Helen.”Yes Helen,” I said humbly and lifted up the slipper.Helen called to Netta.”Take a shoe-horn, and put on Miss Denise’s shoe.”Netta turned round my chair, and drew the slipper on my foot and put meback at the table. Then she took the bracelets from my wrists,unbuttoned my gloves there, slipped my hands out and turned the glovesback.”Yes, a very pretty girl,” said Lady Hartley severely, “but if you weremy pretty girl, I should tie her gloved hands behind her back, andstand her in the corner with her face to the wall, and her dainty heelstogether.” My cheeks grew red with shame. But underneath the shame Iwas suddenly conscious of a passionate longing to be punished in thatc***dish and humiliating way before all of these gaily dressed people.I tried to shake the obsession off. It was dangerous, enervating,effematizing. But the venom was in my veins. I tried to think of myambitions, my career. I could only think of the little new shiningsatin slippers which so daintily imprisoned my feet under the table,the fairly-like bows, the big blazing buckles, the pointedpearl-embroidered toes. I felt the high Louis Quinze heels sinkingdeliciously into the thick carpet. Oh to be made to stand upon thempublicly in a corner with my face to the wall, and my gloved hands tiedbehind my back like a naughty c***d. I a grown up young lady in a longsatin frock with my white shoulders and bejewelled throat rising fromthe lace and ruffles of my gleaming corsage! I rubbed my legs togetherin a spasm of desire. And then as Netta placed my dinner before me andfilled my glass with champagne, Helen cried out with a laugh.”But dear Lady Hartley, that is exactly what I am going to do withDenise.”The men looked sympathetically at me, but all the ladies weredelighted. For myself I had to bend my head over my plate to hide asmile of delight. Mr. Rivers actually pleaded for my forgiveness, butHelen would not hear of it.”And I think Helen is so right,” said Lady Hartley. “I am veryinterested in the punishment of young ladies. People allow them such aridiculous amount of liberty nowadays that it is quite refreshing tofind someone like Helen. To dress them beautifully and treat them likedainty convicts. That is the only way to keep the silly creatures ingood order,” she said sternly.I ate my dinner quickly, the longing to be punished tingled through myveins. Already I felt Helen’s quick little daintily-gloved fingersbinding my wrists behind me with satin ribbons and adjusting my feet inexquisite finery. As soon as dinner was over, cigarettes and coffeewere handed round. I lit a cigarette. It was two years since I hadsmoked one. Oh how I enjoyed it now! I leaned back in my chair, asmile of delight upon my face.There was to be a dance for the people of the village after dinner inthe village hall. We were all to go in to it. Helen rose.”Mr. Repton,” she said, “will you take the gentlemen down to the hallwhen they are ready. There are two motor-cars. They can come back forus. If you will start the people dancing we will come in for a littlewhile later. Then we can all come back here, have a little danceourselves and some supper.””Certainly, Miss Deverel,” said Guy Repton respectfully.The other two ladies rose and Helen said to them: “Bring yourcigarettes, all of you except Denise. I can’t have you standing in thecorner Denise, with a cigarette between your lips.”Blushing I laid my cigarette on my plate and followed the ladies fromthe room. As they crossed the hall, I heard Lady Hartley say to Helen:”I thought that I read on the sole of Denise’s slipper that you werethinking of a different punishment for her.””Yes,” replied Helen, “standing in the comer I look upon as apreliminary. The real punishment will be inflicted later on aftersupper.””It sounds a curious one – ‘The glass-boxes’.”” I think it is interesting and ingenious. You shall see it.”I was curious myself as to what the punishment was going to be -curious and frightened.We all went into the small dressing-room, a lovely little roomdecorated in white and gold with a polished parquet floor s**tteredwith thick white rugs of Persian silk. It was brightly illuminatedwith shaded electric lamps and a cheerful fire burned upon the hearth.The ladies took their seats in comfortable chairs about the fire withan air of eager expectation, smoking their cigarettes. Helen placed mein the middle and handed a little silver button-hook to her youngcousin in the smart short pink frock.”Doris, put Denise’s hands back into her gloves and button themcarefully,” she said.I gave my hands to Doris, who smoothed the tight white k**-gloves onover my fingers and fixed the buttons while Helen went over to abureau. She opened a drawer and came back carrying a large leathercase and a number of strong white satin gleaming straps with big ovaldiamond buckles sparkling upon them. She placed the leather case onthe mantel-shelf and the straps on a chair. Her face was radiant, hereyes danced with pleasure.”Now Denise, we will truss you up tightly and prettily,” she said witha thrill of delight in her voice. She removed from my arms the goldbracelets above the elbows which I wore to keep my gloves stretchedtight and round each arm just where the bracelet had been she buckled abroad white satin strap very tightly. Neither the diamond buckles northe eye-holes were at the ends of the straps so that after the ribbonhad been fastened two broad ends hung from each arm. These ends shetied in big bows and passed them back through the oval buckles whichthus flashed daintily in the middle of the bows. The bows and buckleswere on the outside of my arms, and on the inside of each strap alittle steel ring was stoutly sewn. Helen then took a tiny bar ofpolished steel with a spring-hook at each end of it. She snapped thehooks on to the steel rings forcing my arms together with a strength ofwhich I should never have believed her capable.”There,” she said, “I can now tie the wrists comfortably.” She satdown.”Stand with your back to me Denise.” My elbows almost touched in thesmall of my back. My shoulders were drawn most painfully back. Anextraordinary sense of helplessness, delightful and at the same timealarming overwhelmed me. Slowly and with hesitation I obeyed my cruellittle tyrant. I stood in front of her chair with my back towards her,and I crossed my daintily gloved wrists for her to bind. There weremirrors let into the wall panels and I could see myself in myglistening white frock, which delightfully reflected the lights, fromthe buckles and pearls gleaming on my satin slippers to the curls of myexquisitely coiffured head as I stood in this humiliating position ofsubjection. Yet how the spectacle aroused my passions! I feltdreadfully excited.”Keep quite still now, Denise,” said Helen, with a laugh. “Have youever had your hands tied together for bad behaviour before?””Never Helen.””It seems a pity that you should have to have them tied up on anevening when you look so pretty and are so delightfully dressed.”And my girlish vanity made me answer with a smile of confusion.”If I have got to have my hands tied behind me would rather be prettilydressed than not for the ceremony.” The ladies laughed, I blushed, andLady Hartley cried out:”That is charming of you Denise.”I felt Helen’s fingers and suddenly was it in a panic or was it toprolong the delight I felt? I began to struggle. But my arms werealready bound, and the struggle was soon over. In the mirror I sawfour white gloved-hands suddenly interlaced and fluttering like fourdoves. Two quick, little nervous strong hands, Helen’s and two slenderhelpless things, my own. The four hands fell apart. Helen’s wereholding the ends of white satin strap which encircled my wrists anddrawing it tighter and ever tighter. Mine were glued together wihelpless twitching fingers. “Oh, oh, you are hurting me Helen,” Iprotested. “You shouldn’t make it necessary for me to hurt you,darling,” she answered, and she tied the bow and passed it through theoval diamond buckle as she had done with the other straps.”That will do,” she said, rising briskly. My arms hung down behind mein their delicate long k**-gloves, inert, useless. She took me by theelbow.”Take care how you walk on your high-heels now that your hands are tiedbehind you Denise. Point your toes, arch your pretty insteps!”She led me to a corner by the fire and placed me in it with my face tothe wall. “Hold your head well up darling! That’s right! Put thehigh-heels together, and turn out the pointed toes. Let me see!”She stooped down and picking up the train of my dress wound it tightlyround my legs tying them in its folds and exposing to view my anklesand feet. She fixed it at the knees with a satin strap.”Now stand without moving,” she said, and with the handle of her fanshe gave me a sharp tap on my bare white shoulder.”Take care! If I see a flutter of the butterfly bows or a flash of thediamond buckles on your daintily slippered feet I will lock a bright,tight pair of fetters over your gossamer silk stockings, round yourslender ankles, which will bind them so fast that you won’t be able totwitch one of your toes.””Oh Helen,” I sighed. But it was not a sigh of alarm. It was a sighof voluptuous, languorous desire.Strange as it may seem it was delicious to be standing daintily in thecorner with my arms and hands cruelly bound behind me in my exquisitesatin frock, my long girls’ gloves of supple white k** and my jewels, apretty punished thing of ribbons and pearls, and rich lace. But tohave my ankles in their girls’ lustrous transparent open-worked whitesilk stockings fettered tightly together too! To stand in a cornerwith my girlish feet unable to move in their exquisitely cuthigh-heeled slippers of white satin with the delicate bows, the diamondbuckles, the pearl-embroidered toes, to see my round pink instepsgleaming daintily through, the lace insertions of stockings which onlythe richest of heiresses would wear at a ball in the London season!The mere thought of it made me almost swoon with delight. This is whatI had dreamed of I could make my dream-world real by a single movement.An irresistible impulse to do so was upon me.”I don’t see the use of my wearing beautiful satin slippers withvaluable diamond buckles if I have to hide them in a comer,” Ipretended to grumble.”Nonsense, Miss Denise,” replied that common and practical woman Mrs.Dawson,” it is delightful to us to see an elegant young lady withpretty feet smartly shod standing obediently in the comer.” She evokeda picture of myself in my mind which carried me away.”Mayn’t I even do this?” I asked impertinently and I stretched out afoot pointing the toe, and drew it back again. An exclamation ofindignation at my wilfulness broke from all those tyrannical ladies.”Lock and chain together those satin slippered feet at once, Helen,”cried Lady Hartley.”I will indeed,” answered Helen. “Come Violet, Miss Hartley, help meplease.” With the assistance of the two young ladies she absolutelycarried me from the corner, lifted me on to a chair, and held mestanding on it.”Support her please,” said Helen. I was quite helpless, with my satintrain swathed round my legs and my hands and arms tied behind me.Helen opened the leather case and took out a pair of bright fetters ofthin polished steel.”Oh they are too small,” I cried. “They will never go round myankles.” “Hold your tongue,” said Helen and she stooped over my littlebuckled feet. Oh, wonderful blissful moment! I felt the cold cruelbands close about my ankles. Click, click, sounded sharply through theroom. It was done now, past recall. I was chained. Thrills ofvoluptuous exquisite delight tingled warmly through me from myhigh-heels to my curls. I looked down – oh bizarre and entrancingspectacle! I saw the bright bands of steel glistening on my filmy silkstockings, fettering my ankles. I saw the small feet in gleaming whitesatin pearl-embroidered slippers, made doubly dainty with quiveringbutterfly bows and blazing diamond buckles – slippers for a beautifulgirl to dance in at a Court Ball, chained together unable to move. Ohwhat waves of sensuous pleasure swept over me! Helen raised her handsand smoothed down my skirt from the waist to the knees. Oh the look,the touch of those little active masterful k**-gloved hands, whichhaving bound my arms and wrists behind me, and fettered my ankles, werenow engaged on the feminine work of making my frock set prettily. Theblood rushed into my face. A pang of undreamt-of bliss shook me.”Oh, oh,” I murmured. I stood quite still with every nerve tense. Itseemed to me that Helen’s hands half-opened a door into an unimaginedParadise. She looked up at my rapt face shrewdly. Then in atriumphant whisper she said.”You wanted me to chain your feet, Denise.”Her words brought me to my senses. It was part of her plan I was sure,to produce in me a craving for these dainty punishments. It was partof her plot to keep me in subjection.”Lift the pretty creature down,” said Helen contemptuously; and when Iwas placed standing again on the parquet floor, she added with a slowmalicious smile, “I think Denise, darling, that since you are sodisobedient, before I put you back into your corner I had better givethose tied k**-gloved hands a sound caning.”Oh please no,” I cried in terror.Helen turned to Lady Hartley.”Don’t you think that I am right, Lady Hartley?” she asked.”Certainly. You will be doing Denise a real kindness.””Then, Doris, will you go and find Phoebe and ask her to bring a strongthick cane for Miss Denise?””Oh please Helen,” I whimpered, “I have never been caned. Oh, I willgo on my knees to you.””You can’t darling,” said Helen, “you have your smart feet chainedtogether. Don’t be silly!”She turned me round and felt the palms of my bound hands.”I am afraid, “she said with a hypocritical regret. For she waslaughing with excitement and pleasure. “I am afraid that even throughthese k**-gloves the cane will hurt and sting you terribly dear. Yourhands are so deliciously soft.”I wriggled and struggled in vain. Oh what a fool I had been to let herbind and fetter me! I was helplessly at her mercy now.Phoebe brought in a long pliable thick bamboo cane, a dreadful weapon.Helen made it whistle through the air. I shrank and trembled.”Oh don’t cane me,” I implored. “I am too old to be caned.”Helen burst out into a callous laugh at my abject entreaty. The otherladies moved excitedly in their chairs, tapping with their heels on thefloor, making their pretty dresses rustle. All of them were eager tosee me soundly caned in my lovely clothes.”Come Denise, don’t disgrace those buckled satin slippers by so muchcowardice!” said Helen.She seized me. She thrust her left arm in between my bound arms and myback and lifted my hands off my back into the air.”Stand well up dear.”She raised the cane high above her head.I couldn’t move.”One!”She brought it down with a cruel force. I bit my lips to repress acry.”Two!”A second time the terrible cane slashed my hands, stinging medreadfully. Even in my fetters I sprang into the air.”Keep your feet still,” cried Helen savagely, “or I will cane youacross the thin soles of your dainty satin slippers as well. Three!”In spite of myself a cry of pain burst from my lips as the third strokecurled round my hands. Helen drew in a long breath of satisfaction,and the cane rose in the air again.”Four,””Oh, oh!””Open the hands well darling, so that the k**-gloves are tightlystretched over the palms, and keep the thumbs out of the way of thestrokes of the cane. Five!””I was in dreadful pain. My hands were on fire. My white bosom heavedand fell in violent jerks. Sobs broke in my throat.”Six!”I burst into a torrent of tears. The ladies actually applauded Helen.How cruel woman can be! Helen herself was flushed with pleasure. Shegrew more severe with each stroke.”Seven! Oh I love to see you crying Denise!” she said. But she wasnot thinking of Denise. It was Evelyn Beryl she was punishing forhaving inherited her father’s fortune. I writhed and screamed. Yes,screamed.”Eight!” she cried triumphantly and the slashing cane burnt my hands asif it had been a hot wire. I wriggled.”Keep still Denise! Don’t rub your knees together under your frock inthat indecent way. You’ll tear the lace frills of your drawers if youdo.”Oh Helen!” I sobbed. “Let me go.””Nine! and don’t squeeze your satin slippers against one another.You’ll ruin the butterfly bows. Ten! And you are to dance in themto-night and show them off! Eleven!”I shivered from head to foot and yelled.”Now for the last! Twelve!”The last was a dreadful stroke.”Oh untie my hands!” I screamed. “Take my gloves off! Let me plungemy hands into cold water! Oh, my palms are on fire.”Helen laid down the cane.”Keep quiet,” she said. “Violet, Miss Hartley!”They lifted me up and carried me writhing in agony into the corner andplaced me once more standing with my face to the wall.”Your head well up! Turn your shoe-buckles out! She stooped andadjusted my chained feet.”Now cry away baby, as much as you like, while we go down to thevillage. Aunt Priscilla will sit here while we are away and see thatyou don’t move,” she whispered in my ear. “Think of your pretty feet!Think that in those dainty buckled high-heeled satin slippers I havecaned you Denise,” she whispered caressingly, tempting me withseductive images.The ladies put on their cloaks and went away. I was left in the littlesitting-room, standing in the corner, sobbing bitterly while MissPriscilla, seated at the bureau where she could see every movement thatI made, callously wrote letters.She had no pity for me in my bondage and misery. She was perpetuallychiding me. One moment it would be, “Don’t work your shoulders in thatviolent way. Keep them still and sob silently!”At another:”I see your fingers twitching, Denise. Open your hands and let themlie quiet against your satin dress.” And a third time it would be,”Your feet are trembling Denise. Keep them still. Yourslipper-buckles are flashing so that they continually attract my eyes.I shall have to cut them off your shoes.”She came over to the corner with a pair of scissors in her hand. Allmy vanity, all my love for my dainty slippers rose in alarm.”Oh please don’t cut the buckles off. Please Miss Priscilla!””Be careful, then,” she said and rapped my insteps exposed in theiropen-worked thin silk stockings with the handle of her fan until mytears broke out afresh.At last the pain of my hands began to diminish. I sniffed rather thansobbed. Finally I said in a humble voice, “Miss Priscilla!””Well, what is it?” she answered testily.”My hands are tied. Would you be kind enough to wipe my nose for me.”She consented. I was eighteen years old, a youth, the owner of thishouse, a person of great wealth and position. And yet standing in acomer in a girl’s evening frock of white satin, girl’s gloves, girl’ssilk stockings and high-heeled shoes, girl’s tight satin corsets andfrilled batiste drawers, girl’s earrings, and necklaces, and my longhair done up beautifully like a girl’s, bound with my hands behind me,and my ankles chained, I had to have my nose wiped by an old maid whoma year or two ago I despised. With what strange contrasts does lifeprovide us!”Chapter FourI complain of my high-heels, and tight corset, and am soundly slapped.A leg-whipping. Back to my comer. A delicious hour. A delightfuldance. The punishment of the glass-boxes and a fit of hysterics. Theevening ends pleasantly. Almost contented to remain a girl.************The minutes passed slowly. A little clock upon the mantel-shelf struckthe quarter, and afterwards the hour.”Miss Priscilla,” I said again.”What is it?””Mayn’t I be released now? My feet ache so, arched over high-heels.””If you knew how pretty and smart you looked Denise, standing in yourcorner, you would never want to come out of it,” she said calmly.”But my corset hurts me, it’s so tight, and my fetters gall my ankles.Oh Miss Priscilla I am so unhappy,” I said piteously.Miss Priscilla rose with a cry of annoyance. She came over to mycomer, felt my hands, stooped and felt my legs.”The hands will do as they are,” she said.”But your feet are hot, andthe fetters tight. We can’t have your pretty ankles swollen.”She took the little key from the mantel-shelf and unlocked the fetters.What a relief it was! She unfastened the train of my dress from aboutmy knees, and let it drop on the ground.”Sit down there.”She pointed to the sofa. I stumbled across the room and sat down; mylegs were numbed.”Give me your feet.”Miss Priscilla knelt down in front of me and with her clever skilfulhands, trained in hospital work, she massaged my ankles, taking thestiffness out of my joints in a moment or two.”There! Now the pretty things won’t swell up, she said.”Oh thank you Miss Priscilla,” I said gratefully.”Stand up Denise!”I obeyed. She unhooked my dress at the back, first taking off my sash.Then feeling under my cache-corset she loosened my corset laces. Ohwhat a joy it was to draw in a deep breath, to be relieved of theconstriction about my waist, and of the painful binding about my hips.Then to my dismay I felt my drawers slipping down. In loosening mycorset laces, Miss Priscilla had by mistake, as I thought, untied thestrings of my pantalon. I felt a delicacy in mentioning the fact toher. I pressed my thighs together and held the pantalon up at myknees. It was very uncomfortable. But I should soon have my handsuntied, I hoped, and I could then slip upstairs and rearrange myself.Suddenly however I felt a violent tug.”Draw in your breath Denise, and expel it! That is right,”and MissPriscilla drew in my corsets tighter than ever, and tied the laces.”Oh it’s worse than before,” I moaned.”Hold your tongue,” she answered in her calm peaceful voice, “or I’lllace you up in stay laces from your neck to the tips of yoursatin-slippers.” What a terrible threat! She hooked up my dress,readjusted my sash about my waist and then thrust her hand inside myskirt.”Where are the frills of your drawers?” She seized them.”Open your legs Denise.” She pulled the drawers down to my ankles. Itwas not by mistake then that she had untied the strings. She had meantto do it. Why?I was soon to know. Miss Priscilla sat down upon the sofa and sedatelysmoothed her silk skirt over her knees. Then she drew on and buttonedher long glac-k** shining gloves.”Come to me Denise.”I shuffled forward shamefacedly, my pantalon clogging my ankles andlace frills frothing about my satin slippers in the most untidy fashionuntil I reached Miss Priscilla’s side. Then she seized me and with asudden effort flung me across her knees face downwards.”Oh Miss Priscilla,” I cried startled out of my wits.”What are you going to do with me?” She took up my skirt with its longtrain and turning it back, heaped the rich satin folds about my back.My thighs, my buttocks were exposed naked.”Oh, oh!” I protested, my cheeks fiery with shame.”I am going to slap this white soft fat girl’s bottom, said MissPriscilla, as calmly as if she were in the habit of doing it every day.”I am going to teach you Denise not to complain when you are placed inthe corner.””But Miss Priscilla, you yourself admitted that the steel fetters weretoo cruel.””I didn’t admit that your corset was too tight, or that your prettyheels were too high.”She began to pinch between her k** gloved fingers the white flesh.”Oh Miss Priscilla, remember that I am eighteen,” I protested.”You must first remember it yourself, dear, and not behave as if youwere six.”She raised her gloved hand and brought it down with a resounding slapupon my quivering bottom. I could not endure it. The k**-glove stungmy tender flesh, but the c***dlike character of the chastisement stungmy soul. I lashed out with my legs trying to kick my feet free fromthe delicate fetters of my batiste drawers. But the frills clung aboutmy toes, and caught on the high-heels and diamond buckles of my shoes.”It’s abominable,” I cried, “to treat me like a little girl.”But the k**-gloved hand rose pitilessly again and came down heavilyupon naked and helpless flesh. I moaned, I plunged, I writhed uponMiss Priscilla’s knees. I kicked, I strained impotently at the ribbonswhich bound my hands.Miss Priscilla laughed mincingly, as she looked down at my extendedform.”Really Denise, your skin is delightfully soft and tender. They musthave taken a great deal of trouble with your body at the girls’ school.I don’t blame you for kicking your legs about in this wanton fashion,but I must take precautions so that you shan’t spoil your beautifulsatin slippers.”She raised me up and placed me sitting on the sofa.Then she knelt on one knee in front of me, and flung my dress up abovemy knees.”Stretch the dainty things out on to my knee, Denise, I will muffle andtie them up in your drawers. Otherwise you will in your strugglesbreak your buckles against the furniture, or catch them in my dress andthen I should have to get a birch and whip you properly.”I blushed, hiding my legs away under the sofa.”Very well,” said Miss Priscilla rising calmly to her feet.”I must whipthose soft pretty legs with a riding whip.””Oh no,” I cried in a panic stretching out my feet to her.”Too late dear,”said Miss Priscilla. She fetched a terrible littlethin riding-switch of whalebone with a jewelled handle from a table onwhich it lay ready.”But my silk stockings are so thin and fine,” I moaned. “Oh MissPriscilla, the switch will hurt my legs dreadfully. I am so sorry tohave disobeyed you.””Then I will only give you two cuts across the calves dear. They willhelp you to remember in the future that so long as you are wearing thedelicate thin stockings and clothes of a fashionable young lady, youhad better obey orders at once. Out with them!”My face twitching with fear, I extended my trembling legs. “Join theankles, arch the insteps gracefully!”I obeyed and with two quick strokes Miss Priscilla slashed my legs,extorting shrieks from me. For the whalebone curved round my legs, bitinto my calves and tortured me terribly.”Now perhaps you will put your satin slippers up on to my knee,” shesaid kneeling again in front of me.I obeyed and she wrapped the batiste drawers round my slippers rightlymaking a pad of the lace frills to protect my diamond buckles, and thenwith a satin ribbon she tied my feet up in a parcel.She resumed her seat and pulled me over her knees again on my face.She raised her gloved hand and began smacking me again with all hermight. I shivered and prayed for mercy, in vain. The tears filled myeyes. Nor were the pain and disgrace all I suffered. For while shesmacked me she lectured me, and every word seemed chosen to inflame meand trouble my passions.”What a dignified position” – smack – “for a young lady dressed in theextreme of fashion – “smack, smack. “To lie across a lap, her whiteshoulders rising from an exquisite dcollet frock, her gloved arms boundbehind her, her satin skirt turned back, her smartly shod feet muffledup in her drawers” – smack, smack, smack, smack, – “while an old womanwhom she despised,” – smack, – “slaps her naked flesh,” slap, slap,slap. “What a disgrace,” smack – “If you only knew how ridiculous andpretty you looked with your high satin-covered heels sticking out fromthe lace frills” slap – “of your elegant drawers,” smack, smack.The tears ran down my face. I was being treated like a c***d. Isobbed like a c***d. Yet all the while I knew that I was not a c***dat all.She finished at last, stood me up, drew up my pantalon and fastened thestrings about my waist, loosening my corset and dress to enable her todo it. Oh how ashamed I was. How I blushed to feel her hands dressingme as if I was a baby.She laced me up tightly again, corset and frock, tied my anklestogether with a white satin ribbon tied in a big bow and passed througha diamond buckle. Then holding me, she made me hop in a mosthumiliating manner back into my corner once more.It was nine o’clock when I was first placed in the corner. The clockstruck ten as Miss Priscilla put me back there, lifting up my chin,drawing back my shoulders, adjusting my feet, turning out my toes asmuch as my ankle strap allowed her to do.”Now will you stand quietly dear?”she asked.”Yes Miss Priscilla,” I said humbly and still weeping.”That’s right, Denise. You can’t imagine how delicious you lookstanding here tied up in your smart clothes. Now remember Helen’sadvice. You are to think of your rounded insteps in their open-workedsilk stockings, your little feet in their lovely pearl-embroideredslippers with the gossamer bows, the flashing buckles, theextravagantly high-heels, peeping out from a nest of billowy whitefrills of tulle and satin. Think how you have been punished in them.”I wriggled my knees.”Ah you are thinking of the dainty slippered feet,” she said with asmile.That was her policy – a double one. To punish me into abjectsubjection and then to make my love and crave for punishment byassociating with it in my mind voluptuous images which provoked mypassions, and by flattering my girlish vanity with enervating,effeminatizing soft words. And she was succeeding. I obeyed her.I thought of my dainty high-heeled slippers shining and sparkling belowmy satin dress, heel to heel as I stood in the corner. The minutesflashed by. I was delighted to feel the height of my heels, to catch aglimpse of my buckled toes, to realize that I must not move them, sinceI was undergoing punishment at a woman’s hands. The clock struckeleven to my intense surprise. I had been standing for two hours inthe corner. The door opened, Helen, Lady Hartley, and Violet Hind cameinto the room. I heard music and the sound of voices in the ballroom.I longed to be free.”How has Denise behaved Auntie?” asked Helen.”She was troublesome at first. She would talk. So I took her prettypantalon down, tied up her feet in them so that she shouldn’t break herslipper-buckles and gave her a sound slapping across my knee.I blushed with shame.Violet cried “Splendid”.Miss Priscilla resumed.”But for the last hour she has been standing very prettily in hercorner without a word.”Helen came over to me.”Have you been thinking of what I told you darling?””Yes Helen,” I replied blushing more than ever.Oh how determined those two women were under all their loving terms anddainty endearments to corrupt and make me of no account in theirsinister way.”Then I will set you free as a reward.” She did so and added. “Now goto the ball-room and dance and enjoy yourself.”I was delighted.”But mind darling that you only dance with girls, she said with awarning nod, and she explained to Lady Hartley: “That is part ofDenise’s punishment.”I was delighted to have an excuse not to dance with men, even ashumiliating an excuse as this was. I went into the ball-room which ledout on the other side of the big drawing-room. It was a beautiful roomwith a perfect floor. There were a good many people whom Helen hadbrought up from the village; luckily more girls than men, so that I hada still better excuse. I was able to say that as I was staying in thehouse, it was my duty to see that the visitors had partners. I dancedwith Violet, and Miss Hartley, and other girls, – and I loved it. Ihad been beautifully taught and I knew that I danced very well. Violettoo, was a good dancer. Oh to swing round in a waltz with her to thesound of languorous music, our little slippers flashing in and out,weaving and interweaving the steps yet never touching, – it wasdelicious. At midnight we all went into the dining-room to supper, andwere as merry as we could be. Cigarettes followed. Oh how sorry I waswhen the guests began to go. Miss Priscilla took me aside. She bad anew pair of long white gloves in her hand.”You must have these put on Denise. You have soiled those you arewearing.” She smoothed them over my arms, and buttoned them.”Have you also soiled your slippers?””No, Miss Priscilla. The ball-room floor is as clean as a newtablecloth.”Let me see!” I swept my frock aside and showed her my feet. “Yes, youneed not change them,” she said.I had forgotten all about my punishment. I saw Helen saying goodbye toa crowd of guests at the drawing-room door. I wondered whether she hadnot forgotten it too. I thought that if I could slip by up to my room,I might escape altogether. I tried to, but Helen saw me between theheads of some girls she was shaking hands with and cried outpleasantly:”You mustn’t go yet, Denise dear.”She continued saying goodbye to her girl friends but introduced intoher farewells in order to punish me for trying to escape, humiliatingorders which I had to obey before them all. Her words ran like this:”Goodbye Dora… Come and stand beside me Denise – Must you really goIris? – not like that Denise, but with your face to the wall of courseand your hands behind your back. I shall see you to-morrow Mrs.Rivers, shan’t I? Are the heels of your dancing slippers neatlytogether, Denise?”All went at last. Helen took me by the hand. “Come with me,” shesaid. There were only Lady Hartley and Miss Priscilla, and LadyHartley’s daughter left in the drawing-room. She touched a spring inthe wall and a panel slid aside, showing another room of which I hadnot guessed the existence. The house had been greatly altered duringthe years of my absence.”This Denise,” said Helen with a smile of anticipation, is thepunishment room.”Lady Hartley turned to her daughter. “Wait here Phyllis,” she said.She followed Helen, Miss Priscilla, and myself into the punishmentroom. It was a small room, prettily furnished with a bright fireglowing on the hearth. Helen closed the panel as soon as we hadentered and at once it appeared that the room had no door to it. Itwas furnished in mahogany and white satin. On the floor a thick carpetcovered with white glac-k** made luxurious walking. The walls were allthickly padded with white satin and the light was only admitted througha skylight over which at this moment heavy curtains of white velvetwere drawn. Of the designation of the room at a first glance no onewould have guessed. At a second, one would have noticed some sinisterparticulars. Across the ceiling a grooved gilt wheel ran on a strongrail and from the groove of the wheel, a thick strong gold ropedepended. The wheel was worked by a small lever in the wall and atthis moment was in a corner of the ceiling with the rope tied to ahook. On the ottomans and chairs I noticed a gleam of steel rings andbars, and one long flat sofa was furnished at the end with a pair ofstocks. There were cases with glass-doors fixed against the walls andglancing into one, I saw a stand of bamboo canes, into another a standof birches daintily tied with blue and pink satin ribbons, and into athird, handcuffs and fetters and irons of all kinds in polished steel.I was afraid. But what most terrified me was a mahogany chair raisedan inch or two from the ground on a solid frame. It was luxuriouslypadded and cushioned in white satin. Yet its aspect appalled me.Sit down dear, said Helen pushing me towards it. I advanced timidly inmy satin slippers, mounted the frame and sat down in the chair. Helenfixed a strong satin strap round my waist, buckling it tightly behindthe chair. To the back other straps were attached, and these shefastened over my shoulders, drawing them tight under each arm. My bodyand bust were thus securely imprisoned. The chair was furnished withshort arms thickly padded in white satin and an inch or two beyond theextremities of the arms two strange square boxes of glass weresupported on steel pedestals fixed into the frame of the chair. On thesides of these boxes facing the arms of the chair were holes thicklypadded with white satin for the wrists, the upper part of the glasssliding upwards in grooves to admit the hands. The other sides and thebottom of the boxes were covered with looking-glass and little bulbs ofelectric light placed at the corners, flung a strong light upon theinterior. The top surfaces of the boxes like the sides facing thechair were of glass. Helen lifted up the sliding portions of theglass.”Lay your arms flat upon the arms of the chair, Denise darling, so thatyour hands are in the boxes, and your wrists rest in the glassgrooves,” she said in her most honeyed accents. “The palms of yourgloved hands uppermost dear.”I obeyed her in dreadful alarm. Lady Hartley looked on in delightedcuriosity, while Miss Priscilla strapped down my elbows and forearmswith satin straps to the arms and rested in the glass holes of theboxes, my hands being quite inside the boxes. Helen then slid down theupper pieces of glass, and made them fast by locking a steel bar alongthe tops. My wrists were now hermetically imprisoned in these glasspillories. I could twitch my k**-glove fingers inside the boxes, and Idid so, making the brilliant light play upon the smooth shining whitek**-gloves. But I could do no more.In front of me at the end of the frame, supported also upon steelpedestals, was a bigger box of the same make as the boxes for thehands. Only in this bigger box there were holes for the ankles alittle apart from each other and raised so that with my feet in theboxes they would be in a straight line with my knees as I sat in thechair.”Raise your legs dear, and insert your dainty feet, said Helen. Sheflung back my skirt exposing my silk stockinged legs, my garters, andthe frills even which decorated my knees. Timidly I raised my legs andinserted my feet into the box, letting my legs rest in the grooves madefor them, while Helen held up the upper slide of glass. As soon as mylegs were in position she slid down and secured the glass, tightlyfitting me into this strange pair of glass stocks.My legs fitted very tightly into the holes just where the calves beganto swell, so that my ankles as well as my feet were enclosed inglass-boxes. Helen turned on the lights in each of the boxes and atonce a flood of bright illumination sparkled on slippers and buckles,stockings and gloves, and flung up the dazzling reflections of thedainty things in the most fascinating way. Then Helen by means of alittle silver knob on the outside of each box drew out for an inch ortwo the mirrors which formed the bottoms, and disclosed shallowcavities underneath. At once, from these cavities a brown dust whirledout and flew about the boxes as if driven by a wind. The brown dustsettled on my shining white gloves, my smart glistening slippers, mygleaming stockings of silk. I could move my fingers. I could alsowork my toes and insteps up and down though I could not twist my feetfrom side to side. I worked both hands and feet to shake the dust offin vain and then I felt two or three sharp pricks on my insteps andothers on the palms of my hands at the small opening of the gloves. Ishook my hands and feet more violently and then I began to feel thepricks all over my ankles and feet wherever my stockings wereopen-worked and all over my hands too. Meanwhile the little clouds ofbrown dust spun about the boxes.A suspicion of the truth dawned upon me. I was seized with a dreadfulirritation wherever the dust touched my flesh. I could not leanforward, for I was strapped firmly back in my chair. But I fixed myeyes upon my twisting fingers, my twitching feet; and I discovered thetruth.”Oh, Oh!” I cried. “Helen, the specks of brown dust are fleas. Youare punishing me in my new k**-gloves, my satin slippers, my daintystockings with fleas! Oh! They torture me. It’s horrible.”And in a frenzy I worked my feet, I twisted and clenched my fingers.It was of course all in vain. My ankles, my insteps, my hands were atthe mercy of these obscene insects and they simply devoured me.Lady Hartley was in raptures.”What a delightful punishment for a pretty girl!” she cried. “To tieher into a chair in her lovely evening frock and then to give hersatin-slippered feet and slender little ankles in their exquisitestockings to fleas to devour and punish! I think you are wonderfullyclever, Miss Deverel.”Helen smiled in acknowledgment of the praise.”It is at all events an appropriate punishment,” she answered modestly.”Denise is being punished for her vanity in making a coquettish displayof her little buckled slippers and dainty feet. To hand them over intheir finery to fleas seemed to me the best way of teaching herhumility.”They stood and complacently watched me as I writhed and twisted in mybonds. The fleas were driving me mad. They got inside my stockings,down under my slippers, round my ankles and bit me terribly. They wereravenous. My hands too were helpless. The fleas were inside mygloves, between my fingers, everywhere. My feet and hands twisted intheir glass prisons. The mirrors reflected back to me with irony myflashing buckles, my dainty bows and heels, and the tightly-fittingelegant long gloves.”Oh, oh! the torture is excruciating,” I cried. “Oh Helen you arecruel! I am being eaten up. The irritation is driving me out of mysenses.” I burst into tears, I tugged at my legs and arms to break theglass and free myself. I felt the blood rush to my face. I wasgrowing delirious.”It’s a disgusting punishment,” I moaned.Helen laughed.”Is it indeed Denise? I don’t allow young ladies to use such languageabout my punishment which I feel it my duty to inflict upon them. Ifthe fleas are disgusting to your delicate sensibilities, what I wonderwill you say to this?”Into the tops of the glass boxes little silver boxes were let in, oneover each gloved-hand, one over each satin-slippered foot. Helentouched a spring in each of these boxes and the bottom which in eachcase was inside the glass box fell down upon a hinge. And to myinexpressible loathing from each box there dropped a horrible fat, big,slimy worm. There were four of them. One dropped on to the k**-glovedpalm of each hand, one on to the pearl-embroidered toe of each of myslippers. I uttered a piercing scream of horror. I suppose that itwas very feminine of me, but I couldn’t help it. The sight of thoseloathsome fat worms on my pretty gloves and shoes filled me withnausea. I shuddered. I felt that I was going to be sick.”Oh take them off! Take them off,” I screamed. I shook my hands andfeet in a panic. Then the worms began to crawl! Oh it was revolting.They crawled over my toes leaving a disgusting brown trail of slime onthe dazzling sheen of my white satin shoes. They mounted on to thebuckles and bows. They were crawling towards my open-worked stockings.Oh I should feel them on my flesh. Perhaps they were poisonous too, Ithought in my panic. They were crawling about my fingers as well. Itouched one with the tips of my fingers as I closed one handspasmodically and the soft feel of it as it moved and wriggled causedme to shriek again.”Oh Helen! Please set me free!” I moaned. “It’s a horriblepunishment.”The tears poured down my face. My slipper-buckles flashed and mashedin a thousand many coloured rays as I arched and bent my feet to shakethem off.”That’s a wonderful punishment,” said Lady Hartley.It appeals to the imagination as well as to the body. Ugh! The slimeon the dainty slippers and the shining tight white k**-gloves! Howashamed of herself Denise ought to be!”I interrupted her with a yell. One of the worms had crawled inside myleft glove and I felt it wriggling on the flesh of my palm. It wasunendurable. Then I felt something wet and soft crawling over myinsteps. The worms were on my stockings, feeding on the silk and lace.My screams redoubled. The chair shook with my frantic struggles. Allthe while too the fleas were biting and torturing me!Helen watched me complacently. She was delighted with the success ofher bizarre experiment. She listened to my sobs and screams, shewatched my tear-stained face revelling in my abasement and sufferings.Then, with her hypocritical kindness, she said: “The lesson, darling,you have to learn is this. If you were wearing high boots and thickstockings you would not mind the worms. Therefore the more daintilyyou are dressed, the more careful you must be to be obedient andmodest.”I interrupted her sermon with a scream. One of the worms had crawledthrough the open-worked pattern and was inside my stocking clinging tomy flesh. It was the last straw. I went off into a fit of hysterics.I screamed and laughed, and sobbed all at once. My face flushed redand was convulsed. I was going mad. Even Lady Hartley was terrifiedby my appearance.”She has been sufficiently punished, Helen,” she said.Helen took a little tube with an indiarubber ball at the end. Shepressed the tube through a tiny hole in the glass closed by indiarubberand only opening from pressure from without. Squeezing the ball at theend of the tube, she discharged into the boxes one after the other astrong insecticide powder which at once killed the fleas and worms.Then Phoebe stripped my stockings down my legs. Helen released me fromthe stocks, my gloves, shoes, and stockings were taken off and left inthe glass-boxes to be destroyed. I was still sobbing bitterly, shakenwith convulsions and shivering fits and tortured by the irritation ofthe flea bites.Lady Hartley said good-night and went away with her daughter, whilePhoebe brought a basin of warm water in which some herbs had beensoaked and bathed my inflamed and swollen hands, ankles, and feet.”There’s no reason for you to go into hysterics, Miss Denise,” she saidwith a rough kindness as she knelt at my feet, bathing me. ” Thisinfusion will soon cool your legs, and remove the irritation, andto-morrow morning there won’t be a mark on your pretty white skin.”Helen herself was by this time a little alarmed. She brought me alarge glass of champagne saying, “I did not realize how completely softand girlish you had become, dear.””But you meant me to become soft and girlish,” I said between my sobs.”You and Miss Priscilla sent me to a girls’ school for two years andknew the system applied to me.””Oh yes, darling,” said Helen patting my bare shoulders affectionately.”Of course, we meant to punish you by giving you permanently thefigure, the pretty breasts, and the lovely face of a girl and to pleaseourselves by dressing you in exquisite clothes suitable to your looks.But we did not hope that the system would be so delightfully successfulas it has been in changing your haughty spirit into a girl’s timid andshrinking disposition. However we know now, and I promise you that wewill not punish you with the glass-boxes again unless you should makeit absolutely necessary.””Thank you Helen,” I said gratefully. Even at the time I remarked astrange and significant change in me. I was not angry and resentfulbecause she had punished me and thrown me into hysterics. I seemed torecognize that she had the right to do what she pleased with me.The irritation was soothed by the healing infusion of herbs with whichPhoebe bathed me; I recovered from my hysterics; my sobs ceased.Phoebe tuzla escort bayan dried my legs, and put on to them a fresh pair of silk stockingsand satin slippers and I stood up.”I am very tired,”I said.”I will go to bed.””Before you go to bed Denise,” said Miss Priscilla calmly, “you willhave to have a long conversation with me in my boudoir.””Oh please not to-night! I am exhausted.”Miss Priscilla was implacable.”To-morrow you are to be dressed as a young gentleman again. It isnecessary that our conversation should take place while you are stillwearing your girl’s clothes.”I was worn out by the punishments and experiences of the day.”Then I will wear girl’s clothes for one more day,” I said.Helen laughed.”Really dear, it is not for you to make bargains with us. If you weargirls’ clothes to-morrow to please yourself, you will wear them as longas I choose to please me.””Oh Helen!” I cried piteously. I did not know what to do. The longconversation I was to have with Miss Priscilla frightened me. I wastoo tired. I was not fit for it. I should say anything that shewished me to say. On the other hand if I were to agree that it shouldtake place to-morrow Helen might keep me dressed as a girl for anotheryear. And I was to be a man. I had a future. But in front of my eyesthere rose the vision of the young girl I had seen in the mirror, withher pretty face, her curls, her white throat, her beautifully gownedfigure, her gloved-hands, her feet in their little buckled satinhigh-heeled slippers. Oh I should not mind if Helen did keep medressed as a girl for a year. I said, “Very well Helen! I consent.Miss Priscilla shall talk to me to-morrow and you shall keep me as agirl until you are willing to let me become a man again.”I blushed, Helen rippled over with delight.”Darling we’ll make you happy,” she cried and she kissed me. “Evento-night you shall begin to realize the privileges and liberty of apretty young lady. You shall have a book to read in bed and can smokea cigarette before you turn out the light.”Phoebe took me upstairs, undressed and bathed me, put on alace-embroidered night-gown of batiste threaded with pink satin ribbonsand tucked me up in bed. On a little table by the bed she placed aglass of lemonade and some biscuits, a box of cigarettes and somematches and my novel.”Take care you don’t set the house on fire, Miss Denise,” she said,”and turn out the light before you go to sleep.”She left me in my luxurious bed to myself. What a delicious change itwas from the hard mattresses and strict discipline of the girls’school! I smoked my cigarette and read my novel. Oh it wasn’t suchbad fun being a young lady after all.Chapter FiveA happy day. My new boots. Humiliated in a boot-shop. A catechisminterspersed with punishments. I am whipped, handcuffed, slapped andput into the stocks. Miss Priscilla punishes my satin slippered feet.I give in an abject surrender. I am suspended in the air while my legsare flogged. I end the evening with Violet. Caned, birched andblindfolded.************I woke the next morning to find the sun streaming in at the open windowand Phoebe bringing a cup of tea to my bedside. How delightfullydifferent everything was from the rigid severity of my life in thegirls’ school. My marble-tiled bathroom seemed a paradise on thissummer morning. I was allowed to chose my own frock, and Phoebedressed me according to my choice in a short walking skirt and coat ofplain white silk with a white lace blouse which had a low baby collarleaving my throat free. With this cool dress I wore pale grey silkstockings and grey suede shoes with moderately high Cuban heels. Abelt of pink satin, a big straw hat and elbow-length grey suede glovescompleted the costume. I went downstairs and had a walk in the gardenuntil the others came down. Then we went into a delicious breakfastwith fruit and hot rolls.Everyone from Helen to Doris was as kind to me as it was possible foranyone to be. Helen of course was pursuing her definite policy. Shewanted me to enjoy my life as a girl, to love it.After breakfast Doris was driven off in one of the motor-cars to herschool in the neighbouring town of Mark’s Cross. I was free fromtiresome lessons and long hours in the schoolroom. I took up the”Daily Mail” and settled down on a cushioned chair in the veranda witha cigarette. Violet who was a few months younger than I was sat downbeside me. Helen joined us with a smile upon her face.”What do you girls want to do this morning?” she asked. “You won’twant to stay in and I should be very glad, since I am busy, if youwould drive down in the governess-cart together to the village and takesome messages for me.””That will be jolly,” cried Violet and she looked at me with a smilingface. “I shall love going out with pretty Denise.””Then I will order the cart for eleven,” said Helen. You won’t want agroom with you. You can always find someone to hold the pony in thevillage.”What a change for me! For two years I had never gone out except with agoverness who made us walk two and two and forbade us to talk. NowViolet and I were to drive alone! Thus began a delightful day offreedom for me. The freedom was certainly tempered by some daintytyranny exercised by Violet. But she was so sweet and loving that Iadored being tyrannized over by her. For instance just before the timewhen we were to start she came to me and said.”I like your coat and skirt, dear,immensely. But you have prettierhats than the one you are wearing I am sure, and although those littlegrey suede shoes and gloves are no doubt very comfortable I don’t thinkthey are smart enough for you to wear when you go out with me.””All right Violet,” I said laughing and I ran upstairs to my room. Ichose a very big Leghorn hat adorned with a broad ribbon of whitevelvet on the crown tied with an enormous bow and a row of pink rosesto match my belt. And I changed into white transparent silk stockingswith little new glac-k** white shoes, with sparkling buckles and highLouis Quinze heels. Instead of the grey suede gloves, I put on verylong delicate gloves of white glac-k** which disappeared under theelbow-length sleeves of my white silk coat. I took a pink parasol andran downstairs to Violet.”Shall I do now Violet?” I asked.She looked me over.I extended a k** shoe. Violet smiled in approval.”Yes, buckles and high-heels suit you Denise. You look delicious now,”and she flung her arms round my neck and kissed me rapturously.” Oh howsilly you are Denise to want to be a man again, when you are such alovely girl,” she cried.A groom was holding the pony at the door. We got into the trap.Violet took the reins. I put up my parasol I and we drove through thebeautiful grounds to the Park Gates. How I enjoyed the sunlight andthe fresh air and the country after being cooped up for so long!The village was almost at the gates of the Park, but the Park itselfwas two miles long. We drove into the village and left the pony incharge of a boy.”Mind your pretty shoes Denise,” said Violet as I got out. “Don’tdirty them!””The pavement is quite dry,” I said.We delivered Helen’s messages at the various cottages and at each onegot further proof of how much I, Evelyn Beryl, was detested and feared.They were all so delighted at Violet’s news that I was to be kept forsome time longer at the girls’ school.There was one cottage especially where the news was welcomed. A littleold woman called Mrs. Pettigrew and her big buxom daughter Lucy kept alaundry employing six girls of the village, where all the house linenof the manor – not the ladies’ underclothing of course – was washed.Sometime ago, just before I went abroad, owing to a statement of minethat Lucy had been insolent to me, I had persuaded my father to takeaway our washing from the laundry. And Mrs. Pettigrew was nearlyruined in consequence and would have been altogether, had not Helengiven it back to her. Mrs. Pettigrew hated me naturally, and whenViolet told her that I was to remain at school, she laughed with avicious satisfaction: “That’s a blessed message of comfort for everypoor man and woman in this village,” she cried. ‘Tis kind of MissDeverel to keep him in the school.”She flung open a door suddenly and showed us horrible little dark roomat the back of the parlour. “But that’s where I would like to keep himin his girl’s clothes,” she exclaimed passionately. “All his life Iwould like to keep him there fastened in a chair and feed him on breadand water. We could do it too. Tell Miss Deverel, please Missy! Meand Lucy and my laundry girls, we could keep him safe and quiet inthere. He wouldn’t get away with these on his legs.”With a horrid laugh she held up a cruel pair of rusty fetters with avery short and terribly heavy iron chain between them. I wasterrified. Her face was so threatening, her voice so passionate. Shelooked like a terrible old witch.I glanced in alarm into the little dark room.”Oh! that would be dreadful punishment,” I said.”Ah you don’t know him, Missy,” Mrs. Pettigrew replied. “He’s yourcousin I heard and he’s nigh as pretty as you, if you’ll excuse me.But he’s the cruellest conceited young gentleman! That’s where heought to be kept, in the dark room.”Violet had meanwhile taken the fetters in her hands and glanced at meroguishly.”I would like to see them on someone, she said, and weighed them in herhands.”Lock them on Miss Denise’s ankles Mrs. Pettigrew.””Oh, no,”I cried in terror. Once I had the fetters on, Violet mighttake it into her head to lock me in the dark room. I recoiled. Violetlaughed:”Quick Denise!””Oh Violet!””Obey me! Stand here.”With trembling k**-gloved hands I raised my skirt, but Mrs. Pettigrewcame to my rescue.”The fetters want cleaning Miss. They’d dirty the young lady’s prettysilk stockings. It’d be a shame to lock up such dainty feet. I amsure those little white buckled shoes have never trampled on the heartsof poor people.”The old woman came to the door with us. “Tell Miss Deverel of my darkroom, hiss Violet!” she said warningly. “Me and Lucy and my laundrygirls will keep him safe in his girl’s clothes.”As we walked away, Violet burst out laughing.”You had a narrow escape Denise. Oh we must keep you as a girl.Everybody loves you as a girl and everybody hates you as a youth.””But Violet,” I said, “I shall be quite different now. I have had mylesson.”I looked so remorseful and penitent that Violet suddenly kissed me onthe lips.”You are delicious now at all events, Denise,” she said, “and perhapsHelen will keep you in petticoats for a long while. Get in!”I mounted into the governess-cart and sat opposite to Violet. She tookup the reins.”You won’t want your parasol up Denise,” she said, “so put your handsbehind your back and place your beautiful feet together, the smartshoe-buckles level. That’s right.”I blushed and smiled and obeyed. Thus we drove back to luncheon, whereViolet told Helen of Mrs. Pettigrew’s dark room and heavy fetters.They all laughed except myself. I was beginning to wonder whetherafter all I should not be happier if I remained a girl. After luncheonHelen said to Violet and myself:”I want you two girls to go into Mark’s Cross and do some shopping forDenise. There is a Flower-show to which you can go afterwards if youlike to have your tea. So go and get smartly dressed and I will orderthe big motor-car for you. I have some arrangements to make about thenew houses.”Can’t I help?” I asked. Since the estate was mine I ought to lookafter it. Helen smiled.”Of course not, dear! Run along and put on a pretty dress.”I went upstairs humiliated by her words, but the humiliation did notlast long. Violet and I were to do an afternoon’s shopping. We wereto have the big motorcar to ourselves, tea at the Flower-show. Theprospect was delightful. I put on a lovely trailing dress of silkvoile in vieux rose, tied well in below the knees with a scarf of tulleand a blue hat with a crown of pink roses. Violet was in dark greyninon with a grey satin hat. We drove off in the luxurious bigmotor-car to the neighbouring town.”Show me your feet,” said Violet. I raised my skirt.”As I thought,” she said. “You don’t pay enough attention to yourfeet, dear.”I protested. I was wearing a very smart pair of brogued patent-leathershoes laced with black silk ribbons tied in big bows on the insteps andblack silk stockings.”These are lovely shoes,” I said.”For morning wear, perhaps. How high are the heels?””I don’t believe they are three inches.””But Violet, heels too high look improper.””Nonsense,” said Violet. “For the afternoon nothing looks so well as aneat tightly fitting pair of dainty bright very high-heeled boots withglac-k** legs which button over the ankles without a wrinkle. Look atmine!” She extended an exquisitely booted foot before my eyes.”Luckily we are going to fetch some new ones which have been made foryou and I will have you buttoned into a pair before I take you to theFlower-show, though really I don’t know that we ought to go now.””Oh Violet!” I pleaded.”I don’t see how I am going to find time to punish you for yourcarelessness about your feet, Denise,” she said. “Take care that Inever see you again after luncheon without exquisite boots on yourfeet.”Violet bought some hats for herself and for me and then we drove on toBinot, Helen’s bootmaker.”You have been making some smart boots for this young lady. MissDenise Beryl,” said Violet to the girl who came forward.”Oh yes Madam, some very pretty boots with smart heels. This wayplease.”She led us into the ladies’ show-room upstairs and produced somebeautiful little new flashing boots with legs of black glac-k** whichreached up to the beginning of the calves, with dreadfully high andslender Louis Quinze heels and with the edges escalloped round thebuttonholes. She buttoned them on to my feet. They were exquisitelycut, fitting me tightly but not pinching me.”But the heels are much too high.””I like them,” said Violet.”They are only a little more than four inches high,” said the attendantcalmly. “Stand up, Miss, if you please,” and I stood up. “But theysuit you beautifully.””I can’t wear them really, Violet,” I cried.The shop-girl looked at me sternly:”I think that young ladies who want to be slovenly and object to thehigh-heels of their dainty boots ought to be punished in them.””And she is going to be,” said Violet resolutely.”Stand up on your chair, Denise.””Violet!””At once! And hold up your dress to your ankles.”I obeyed.”I will leave her under your charge in this position,” said Violet tothe shop-girl. “I shall come back in half an hour for her. Will yousee that she doesn’t move?””Certainly,” said the shop-girl, arranging my feet with the heelstogether and the toes turned out. I had to stand on the chair for halfan hour in the show-room, while ladies came in and tried on theirboots. Each one naturally asked what I was doing perched upon thechair, and the shop-girl explained my fault.Violet came back and took me to the Flower-show. We had tea togetherat a little table in the grounds.”Show your smart boots dear,” said Violet. “Cross your feet in frontof you and let everyone see them. You must be grateful now that I tookyou to the boot-shop.”I blushed and said “Yes Violet.”I was girl enough to appreciate the admiration of the men and theenvious glances and disparaging remarks of the women. We drove back toBeaumanoir, and with some other girls who came in played tennis untilhalf past six. Then Helen sent for me to her boudoir.”You have had a pleasant day, Denise?” she asked affectionately.”Oh Helen it has been lovely,” I exclaimed kissing her.”I am glad, darling,” she said. “Now run away, have your bath and getdressed for dinner. Phoebe is waiting for you. I am going out todinner myself, but I want to see you looking your very prettiest beforeI go. Phoebe will bring you to my room.Phoebe bathed and dried me, slipped on to my bare feet a pair of satinslippers and led me back into my bedroom. There she drew on andbuttoned a lovely pair of new tight white k**-gloves. They reachedactually to my shoulders and were buttoned all the way with littlebrilliants, while the seams on the back were embroidered in silver.She put me into most wonderfully fine underclothing all threaded withblue satin ribbons. I wore one filmy petticoat, tight corsets of paleblue satin, and a lovely frock of white satin covered with embroideryof silver and diamonds. Over this frock I wore a tunic of blue chiffonthrough which the, silver-embroidered satin rippled like water. Thecorsage was extremely dcollet, the sleeves being mere shoulder strapsof paillettes and diamonds, and on the left side of the corsage a bunchof big pink tea-roses was fastened. The tunic reached to a littlebelow my knees, where it was caught with a clump of the same roses andfinished with a band of blue satin which held the dress in with a greatbuckle in front, and was fastened behind with a large bow. The skirtwas so tight and clung so closely to my figure that my legs were reallytied in it. From the bottom of the tunic the white satin skirt withits shining embroideries fell to my feet, but cleared the ground allthe way round. With this I wore exquisite transparent white silkstockings through which my flesh showed pink, with lace insertions anddiamond clocks, which since the skirt was short were easily seen. Myslippers were of plain white satin, pointed and deliciously cut withoutbows but with oval diamond buckles, and heels over four inches high. Ablue ribbon of satin filleted my hair. Earrings of diamonds andpearls, a rope of pearls around my shoulders, a string of diamonds,with a diamond pendant round my throat, diamond bracelets over myk**-gloved wrists completed the lovely dress. Phoebe gave me a littlefan of ivory and lace which sparkled with brilliants.”Now you are ready,” she said, “and I am very proud of you Miss Denise,I can tell you. Stand still.” She placed one strong arm round mywaist, and the other under my knees and lifted me up in the air asthough I were a baby.”What are you doing Phoebe?” I cried indignantly, while I wriggled inher arms. “I am not a c***d. Put me down on the ground at once.”Phoebe held me still tighter.”Keep still Miss Denise, and hold your silly tongue or I’ll punishyou,” she said sternly. “I am obeying my orders. Your hands behindyour back at once.”I was waving my luxuriously gloved hands in protest, but at the soundof her peremptory voice I obeyed her.”That’s better,” she said. “Now press your ankles and feet together!Arch your insteps. Make the most of your beautiful buckled slippers.”Blushing with shame I obeyed her again. I could see myself in a mirrorheld in her arms, a grown up young lady in a lovely evening frock Icould see my girl’s feet in their high-heeled satin slippers obedientlyplaced together with the insteps arched, and my legs dangling down overher arm. Phoebe carried me along the corridor to Helen’s bedroom andkicked at the door. Helen’s French maid Leonce opened it. Helen wasdressed in an exquisite long gown of pale green chiffon over whitesatin. She turned with a smile and pointed to a strip of white k**between two mirrors.”Place Miss Denise on her feet there.”Phoebe set me down. Yes I had never looked so well. My blue tunicwith the silver embroidered white satin underdress set off my fair hairand skin to perfection. I was happy too. There was a colour in mycheeks, my eyes sparkled. I had had a joyous day of fresh air,exercise and freedom, and now in my delicate underlinen, and daintyfrock, dressed for dinner. I was conscious of a voluptuous feeling ofwell-being and delight. My dress was short enough to give a glimpse ofpink insteps in shimmering cobwebs of white silk stockings and to showmy feet which in their slim little glistening pointed slippers withoutembroidery or bows, but with only the big oval diamond buckles forornaments, looked more slender and elegant than ever.”You look sweet dear,” said Helen. “Let me see how prettily you canwalk in that frock!”A strip of white k** was unrolled on the floor by Leonce.”Keep on the strip,” said Helen; and I walked, turned, and came back,pointing my toes and flashing my slipper-buckles. The dress rustleddeliciously about my ankles, and I could take only the tiniest steps.”My skirt is so tight that my legs are really tied together,” I saidsmiling at Helen, “and I have an extra half an inch on my Louis Quinzeheels.””I know,” replied Helen. “But they look lovely. And after all you arenot going to play tennis in that pretty frock. In fact darling I amgoing to tie you still tighter.”She was smiling radiantly. She held in her hand a white satin strapwith a diamond buckle.”Sit down on this chair, and give me your beautiful feet.I had learned enough to know that obedience must be prompt. I extendedmy feet to Helen, who kneeled on one knee and took them on to the otherknee.”But Helen, what have I done?” I asked.”This isn’t punishment dear,” she replied as with her white-glovedhands she delicately crossed my slim ankles.”But it is very, very important that there should not be the slightestmark even on the white soles of these exquisite new high-heeledslippers when you have your conversation with Aunt Priscilla.”Why I wondered? She adjusted the gleaming strap round the crossedivory ankles and bound them daintily but tightly together. Oh howdelightful the sensation was! The blood rushed into my face.”Now to keep your gloves clean.” She tied my hands in the same way.”There, darling, now we are certain that you won’t walk and soil theshoes,” she said. “Be very obedient to Aunt Priscilla.” She kissed meand Phoebe once more lifted me in her arms. The voluptuous thrillswhich had been coursing through my veins redoubled. With my whiteshoulders and bosom rising from my delicious dcolletage I looked inPhoebe’s arms like some wonderful doll, except that my bosom heavedrather spasmodically. Phoebe in order not to ruffle or tear my dresshad raised the skirt, so that not merely were my buckled feet andcrossed tied ankles visible, but my silk stockinged legs as well tohalf way up the calves. I saw myself in the glass.”Oh Helen!” I murmured, my eyes swimming with languorous vaguelongings. I was pricked by desires witch I did not understand. Aworld of them were expressed in my sigh. Helen smiled. It was herpolicy and wish to keep me to-night of all nights stimulated bypassionate yearnings. She provoked and increased them now. Shecaressed with k**-gloved hands my legs, sliding her hands up over thesmooth shining stockings under my dress to my knees and garters.”The garters are of white satin dear, with big bows and buckles?” sheasked.”Yes Helen,”I answered blushing.”You are very happy to-night, Denise, aren’t you?””Oh yes, Helen.”Phoebe carried me downstairs to the drawing-room and placed, me on asofa propping up my back with cushions, and drawing down my dress so asto cover my ankles.”Now lie like that! Don’t put your feet to the ground Miss Denise,”she said.”I won’t, Phoebe.”I was left alone, and in a few minutes Violet came in looking verypretty in a white gown of ninon de sole. She leaned over the sofa andlooked down at me. A tender snide and a blush came upon her face. Herlittle gloved-hand caressed my satin slippers.”Do you know, Denise, that I am falling in love with you, – not becauseyou are a youth at all, but because you aren’t, because you are a girl.I am in love with you just as girls are with one another,” and afterthis strange utterance which excited me and flattered me, she cried.”Oh, you have got your hands and feet tied! How delicious! I mustlook.” She turned back my frock, and asked me why. I explained.”I wonder what Miss Priscilla is going to do to you to-night,” she saidslowly. “I am jealous of her.”She bent her head down and kissed my lips a long ardent kiss. Then shedrew a breath of pleasure and I smiled.”Violet, that was lovely,” I said.She bent down again passionately, lifted my bound feet and I felt herwarm lips pressed upon my insteps. Oh a delicious spasm of emotionshook me. My hands tied in front of me in their gleaming smoothk**-gloves fluttered. Oh, how my passions were excited! Doris andMiss Priscilla dressed in a high-necked black silk robe and flatsquare-toed shoes, joined us. Netta announced dinner. Phoebe carriedme in and placed me in a chair and freed my hands. A clean white satinfootstool was placed under my bound feet and we dined. How I enjoyedthat dinner. I had Violet on one side of me, her kiss seemed still toburn and tingle on my insteps and at times she dropped her napkin, andas she stooped down to pick it up, she would give an affectionatesqueeze to my slippers or legs. Even Miss Priscilla’s face lookedpleasant. I was carried back to the drawing-room where Violet and Iwere allowed a cigarette over our coffee. Miss Priscilla rose.”I shall send Phoebe to bring you to my boudoir in five minutesDenise,” she said. “I am just going to see that all is ready.Meanwhile put on your gloves and button them carefully. Perhaps VioletWill help you.””Of course I will,” cried Violet. She kneeled by the sofa and withcaressing fingers drew on my long delicate shining gloves and buttonedthem up to my shoulders, smoothing them over my arms, so that not awrinkle should show. Then she pressed my hands passionately.”I should love to tie them together, just as your feet are tied, onlyever so much tighter.”I blushed.”You may if you like,” I said eagerly.”There’s no time now. Someday when we are alone I Will.””But Violet, you said you loved me,” I remarked with a smile. Shefrowned in perplexity.”I do too Denise. Yet, yet, do you know what I would really love. Iwould love to see you dressed just as you are now in that beautifulevening frock tied to a chair in Mrs. Pettigrew’s dark room with thosebuckled satin slippers and slender ankles in the chains, while thelaundry girls fed you on bread and water.My face grew scarlet.”Oh Violet, that would be dreadful,” I cried, and yet the picture herwords evoked fascinated me strangely!Phoebe came in for me and carried me up the stairs to Miss Priscilla’sboudoir which was furnished in the Empire style with an elegance out ofkeeping with her Puritanical appearance. A small fire was burningcheerfully and to keep the room from growing too hot, the window wasopen upon the summer night.”Untie hiss Denise’s ankles.”I was placed standing in a blaze of light on a square of white k**between two great mirrors, so that I could see myself back and front.Miss Priscilla drew up a chair and sat facing me, but a little on oneside so as not to obscure from me my reflection in the mirrors. Phoebewent out of the room.I was excited. I was a little frightened too. I looked at MissPriscilla timidly. She crossed one leg over the other, showing me herugly flat shoes and lisle-thread stockings.”Lift your dress Denise! A hand on each side of your skirt! Lift itprettily above the ankles. That’s right. Press your high-heelstightly together and turn out your toes! That will do. Now watch yourpretty reflection in the mirror, while I talk to you and above allnever lose sight of your slipper-buckles and your beautifully shodhigh-heeled feet.”I blushed rosily and smiled “Very well, Miss Priscilla.””Now listen to me Denise!” she went on, “some day you will be allowedto lay aside your dainty frocks. I think it’s a great pity, Helen andI are determined however that we will not have a repetition of youroutrageous conceited conduct, of your untidy ways, and yourdisrespect.””I am cured of that Miss Priscilla,” I said humbly.”Perhaps,” she replied calmly,” but we mean to make certain of thecure. We mean that you shall always willingly submit to the rule andauthority of women.”Always?” I asked in dismay.”Always.”I hesitated.”Miss Priscilla!””Yes.””It seems natural to me that I should be kept in subjection,” I saidtimidly, “so long as I am wearing girls’ corsets and long gloves,earrings and pearl necklaces and dcollet dresses, girls’ frilledlingerie and pretty petticoats, girls’ silk stockings and satinslippers with high-heels. I don’t resent discipline at a lady’s handswhile I am to dress in this way.””Come that’s better. You are improving Denise.””But when I go back to trousers it would be so undignified to be undera woman’s authority, especially a young woman’s like Helen.””You can easily escape the indignity by remaining in your satinslippers.””I know,” I said weakly. “But I must be a man. I must have a career.”Miss Priscilla laughed.”Meanwhile, Denise, even in your satin slippers you are not as obedientas you profess your willingness to be. For you are looking straight atme instead of at the reflection of your diamond buckles.”My eyes sought my feet in the mirror.”I am very sorry. I forgot.” said I humbly.”That is no excuse Denise,” said Miss Priscilla placidly. “Gather inyour pretty frock, until it is stretched quite tight over your behind,and bend double.”She rose. Red with shame I obeyed her.”I can’t whip you with a cane Denise, for a cane would tear yourfragile dress. But this will be quite as effective.”She took up a very thick short stick of rubber covered with whitesatin. It was like a policeman’s truncheon, except that it wasflexible.”Bend well down. Your skirt tighter. Gather it in with yourk**-gloved hands, dear.”Oh, how ashamed I was to be punished in this humiliating c***dish wayin my lovely clothes, yet I felt a thrill of sensuous pleasure.Miss Priscilla calmly ran her hand over my stretched bottom, as I stoodbent double, tightening the glittering skirt still more and making megather it in with my dainty white gloves, until there was not a wrinkleor a pleat.”We will punish the right globe first,” she said. One, two, three,four,” and at each word the elastic stick danced upon my bottomstinging me dreadfully.”Oh, Oh! Miss Priscilla. It hurts worse than the cane. Oh!””I know. Keep still! Five, six.”She held her dress aside with her left hand. I saw her common flatshoes and cheap stockings. How extraordinary and bizarre it seemedthat an elderly skinny woman dressed so humbly, should be whipping theposteriors of a beautiful luxuriously dressed girl who was stretchingher pretty frock with her k**-gloved hands to receive the punishment.She flogged me methodically now upwards from the underpart of the hips,now downwards from the back. The pain was intense. My eyes fined withtears, the tears rolled down my cheeks. I sobbed.”You are moving your satin slippers Denise,” she said. She stooped andput my heels and ankles together with her hands. “Watch your diamondbuckles! Each time they flash, I shall add three more strokes.””Oh, Miss Priscilla,” I wailed. “Please tie my ankles together then.I can’t help moving, the pain is so dreadful.””I shall not tie your ankles Denise,” she said. “You must stand quitestill of your own free will while you are being punished. Now for theleft globe. One, two. I screamed.”Three, four,- yes, this is the weapon, Denise, to bring fashionableyoung ladies in dainty frocks to their senses.” Smack, smack, my bottomdanced and writhed. “This will teach you obedience, pretty MissSatin-Slippers.”Smack, smack. She fairly cooked my flesh, up and down and now across,smack, smack fell the heavy-elastic stick on the thin delicate skirt.”High-heeled young ladies,” bang, bang, “are all improved by a goodwhipping on their haughty impudent flesh,” slash, slash, slash, slash.”Now perhaps you will watch your shoe-buckles, will you?””Oh Miss Priscilla, I will, I will,” I screamed.”Good!” Smack, smack! She laid the truncheon aside. “Now stand upDenise.”She contemplated with pleasure my tear-stained face, my quiveringbosom.”Now loosen your frock but take care that it doesn’t fall over yourankles.””Yes, Miss Priscilla,” I jerked out between my sobs.”And mind that you don’t move your pretty buckled satin slippers.She dried my eyes with her handkerchief and resumed her seat.”We will go on where we left off. You are to be made a willing slaveto woman’s authority. The one certain method to make you that, is tomake you love your subjection. It is obvious that you do that to agreat extent already. It is quite clear that you love to be punishedin your pretty frocks even though the punishment costs you pain andtears. But to make that love the overwhelming influence of your life,it is necessary that you should be made to associate in your mindsupreme pleasure with a picture of yourself, dressed by women’sk**-gloved hands, in girls’ corsets and frocks, girls’ smart longgloves, and silk stockings, girls’ high-heeled dainty slippers and thenwith the delightful sensation of exquisite lace-frilled lingerie.Therefore answer me this question. ‘Have you ever loved a woman?'””No, Miss Priscilla.”She nodded her head with satisfaction.”Have you ever enjoyed a woman?”I was scarlet with confusion. I felt too that to answer the truth,”NO”, would be to give her somehow a hold on me which would hedangerous.”You must not ask me such questions,” I said.Miss Priscilla rose never losing her temper.”Bend down again, Denise! This time we will raise the dainty skirtaltogether and whip you over your thin pantalon.””Oh Miss Priscilla, I will answer.””When I have whipped you Denise.”Miss Priscilla was implacable. My tears were hardly dry, my skin stillburned terribly, yet I must bend down and suffer the punishment againonly in an acuter form. I bent down. Placidly she lifted my skirt andturned it back over my shoulders, leaving my girlish big protuberanceexposed in the batiste drawers.”Now lift up the dress in front until the frills at the knees areexposed.”I obeyed her whimpering. She took up the elastic truncheon and stoodbehind me.”Keep quite still, dear! Can you see your high-heels reflected in themirror behind you?””Yes Miss Priscilla.””Fix your eyes on your glistening slender satin slippers and I’ll tanyou thoroughly and well.”Smack, smack, smack, smack, smack, the thick rubber stick danced andjumped upon my batiste drawers. I screamed. It bruised my tenderflesh; it stung and burnt me intolerably.”The feet still Denise,” smack, smack” or I will punish them too,”slash, slash. “There’s nothing half so good for the dainty derrieresof satin-slippered young ladies as the stick.” – slash, slash, slash,slash. “Up and down” smack, smack. “Oh these girlish globes can dancemy dear as much as you like,” smack, smack, “so long as the girl’sbuckled shoes are quiet.”She flogged until I yelled with pain, and the tears streamed down myface in floods and my white bosom strained and heaved. Then shestopped and carefully readjusted my dress. “Stand up now Dense! Holdyour skirt as before. That’s right.”Again she dried my eyes.”Answer me now Denise. Have you ever enjoyed a woman?”I answered through my sobs.”Never!”Miss Priscilla’s lips smiled with contemptuous satisfaction.”I thought that anyone so feminine as you would hardly be acceptable.But I wanted to be sure. Had you known a woman dear, you would havebeen more difficult for Helen and me to deal with. We should not havebeen able to mould you, or to write indelibly your subjection upon yourcharacter as upon a blank page.”Miss Priscilla settled herself in her chair with a look ofsatisfaction. I felt singularly helpless. I understood that everyanswer I made, so subtle were her questions, handed me over more andmore to her to make me a slave. Yet if I did not answer I was cruellypunished until I did.”I pass to another subject, Denise. When you have admired women, whatis it in them that you have admired. When you think of women, of whatin them do you think?I was startled. No I could not answer her.”If you don’t answer immediately, Denise, I shall lock a bright littlepair of steel handcuffs over those delicate white shining gloves.”My heart gave a jump. I blushed rosily – with pleasure. I saw thelittle white-gloved hands which so daintily held up my lovely frock.To have them handcuffed by Miss Priscilla! A divine longing filled me.I looked at my little buckled slippers of satin. Oh, to be handcuffedwhile shod in those fairy-like ball-room things.The strangest sensations overcame me.”If you handcuffed me,” I said timidly and not replying to herquestion, “I should not be able to keep on holding up my dress.””I will prove to you that you are wrong, Denise. She took up a shiningpair of handcuffs, thin broad bands of steel linked close together.She actually was going to handcuff me. Oh, the expectation wasdelicious!”Let your skirt fall. Now your hands together, palm to palm in frontof you.”My arms and hands hung down at once in position, clothed from theshoulders to the finger-tips in the tight unwrinkled gloves of shiningspotless k**.She took my hands and round the wrists fitted the gleaming bands. Whata stimulating picture met my feverish eyes in the mirror! An elderlysharp-faced woman, in a black robe, looking just as I should imagine aprison wardress might, chaining the exquisitely-gloved hands of herpretty young prisoner in her gala dcollet frock and dancing slippers ofwhite satin. Click, click, the handcuffs snapped to. I was helpless.Then she took a long chain with a spring hook at each end. One end shesnapped on to a ring on my left handcuff. Then lifting my skirt allround so that my ankles were left visible, she drew the chain tightlyround me behind under the upswell of the thighs and fixed the other tothe right handcuff. The chain did thus three things. It held down myhandcuffed hands, bound my thighs and kept up my dress. I smiled at myreflection in the glass. I felt and looked so deliciously helpless.Miss Priscilla sat down again calmly watching me.”Now Denise, perhaps you will tell me what you admire in women.””Their feet and ankles,” I replied shamefacedly.A gleam of triumph shone in Miss Priscilla’s eyes.”Shod in what way, Denise?”I hung my head. I had told so much, however I went on:”In little smart patent-leather buttoned boots glac-k** legs and highLouis Quinze heels. In elegant patent-leather shoes laced with satinribbons tied in big bows on the insteps. In little buckled high-heeledsatin slippers.”Miss Priscilla nodded with satisfaction.”Shod then, just as we keep you shod.””Yes, Miss Priscilla.””I thought so, I have watched you Denise. You are aftichiste-du-pied.”So that is what the phrase meant! How well she knew me! I wasdreadfully ashamed.”But that is not enough, Denise. Don’t twitch your pretty fingers.Let the chained hands rest quite quietly against your lovely frock. Ihave not finished with you yet. The mere sight of a lady’s pretty feetin her dainty boots attracts your eyes, fascinates you, but it does nottrouble your passions, as they were troubled last night when you stoodin the corner. Am I right?””Quite right,” I said in a whisper. “But oh Miss Priscilla, don’t askme any more questions: I am so horribly ashamed.””I must ask them,” she returned implacably. “You must remember thatyou are a girlish young gentleman of enormous wealth, enormous power,and responsibilities for which you are quite unfitted, and that Helenand I are responsible for you. If you ever obtained your liberty youwould abuse your power. We are bound therefore to keep you in bondageand for that purpose I must know every detail of your character. Sinceladies’ boots on ladies’ feet by themselves do not arouse and delightyou, what does? Tell me at once.”Miss Priscilla, I can’t,” I cried in despair.She rose calmly.”Lift up your head!”I obeyed. Her hands were clothed in the long white k**-gloves whichseemed the uniform of the house. She took the point of my chin in thefingers of her left hand and held it firmly. With her right palm shedeliberately smacked my cheek with all her strength.”So you won’t answer, won’t you,” – slap – “You disobedient” slap -“impertinent” – slap – “girl!” slap.”Oh, oh, oh! your k**-glove stings my face dreadfully, MissPriscilla.”I struggled in vain to wrench my chin free from her fingers.”It is meant to sting this pretty,” – slap – “silly” – slap – “girl’sface,” slap slap. “These delicate soft cheeks,” – slap – “want a lotof punishing I see.”Slap, slap, slap, slap. “Now we will make the other as red as this oneis.”She began to slap my left cheek now in the same way. My hands werechained down to my legs. I could not resist. I burst into tears fromthe pain which I was suffering.”Oh, Miss Priscilla, you are cruel!””Why don’t you answer the questions then?” Slap, slap. “What a pitythat I have to smack this pretty face and spoil its delicatecomplexion!” Smack, smack, smack. “Your satin slippers are moving,dear.” Slap. “I shall have to turn my attention to the daintyglistening white feet in a moment.” Smack, smack, smack, smack. “Therethat will do! You are as red as a dairy-maid, you silly girl.”She resumed her seat, while I stood and sobbed helplessly.”What is it that chiefly enthralls and delights you, Denise?”The question was asked again. Oh, through my tears, I had to answerit! I had to reveal that entrancing, shameful dream-world in which Iused to wander.”Being forced by ladies to wear corsets, long gloves, girls’ frocks andlittle high-heeled girls’ boots and shoes myself.””Is that all?””And being punished in them.””You are delighted now?””Oh Miss Priscilla!””Answer!””Yes.””Did the idea, the thought of being put into girls’ high-heeled shoesand corsets, and punished in them, excite you before it was actuallydone to you?””Yes.””Since when?””Since I was a boy.””What was the first occasion?”The horrible catechism, making me reveal all my hidden fancies wasgetting onto my nerves.”Of course, I knew that you longed for women to dress you in girl’sclothes,” Miss Priscilla continued calmly. I was astounded.”You knew that?””I guessed it from your ways. It is not unusual in girlish youths.But it’s important that I should know how the idea first came into yourhead.””Oh Miss Priscilla I can’t answer you. It isn’t a fair question. Iwon’t answer,” I cried in a sudden passion.”In that case,” she said looking at me with a malicious smile as sherose from her chair, “in that case Miss Satin-Slippers must have herpretty face slapped again.””Oh no Miss Priscilla! I can’t endure it. I won’t have my faceslapped.” I cried, and before she even raised a hand to touch me, Iburst into a flood of tears and turned away.”Stand still, Miss Satin-Slippers,” she said implacably coming towardsme.”No, no I won’t.” I sobbed passionately, and I stamped my feet in arage as well as the chain round my thighs allowed me to do, and triedto run away. She seized me at once, my hands were handcuffed, I coulddo nothing.”How dare you move?” she asked in a quiet stern voice which frightenedme. “Do you think that we dress you up in the finest silk stockingsspecially woven for you at ten guineas the pair and have your shoes cutand finished and buckled in the most exquisite style with the daintiestheels for you to stamp at us in them?”At her quiet tones my anger vanished. A fresh flood of tears burstfrom me remorsefully.”Oh, Miss Priscilla I didn’t mean to be impertinent to you.” I sobbed,and in a fit of penitence, I, the fashionably dressed MissSatin-Slippers, as she termed me, buried my face in her bosom. Shetook me in her arms and patted my white bare shoulders soothingly.”There, there Denise!” she said gently. “Don’t pull at your handcuffs,dear, like that; you can’t get them off and you will only spoil yournice gloves. Come dry your eyes.”She dried them with her handkerchief holding me affectionately in herarms.”You forgive me, then?” I said imploringly.She shook her head.”You must be cured for your own sake, Denise, of these foolish fits ofpassion. You must recognize that you ought to have your pretty feetpunished now before your face is slapped.””Punish my feet,” I exclaimed; a queer thrill of pleasure shootingthrough me even at that moment, as I looked down at them. “In theseshoes and stockings?””Yes.”In the corner by the fire with its back to the wall stood a chairupholstered in white satin and gold, a solid chair with arms. To itwas attached a pair of stocks for the legs. She placed me in thechair, turned back my skirt and opened the stocks.”Put your legs in the grooves.”The stocks were of polished mahogany with the holes fined and padded -with satin, so that they could hold the legs in a vice and yet not tearthe most delicate silk stockings. I put my legs in the grooves. Sheshut down and locked the upper plank of the stocks and wheeled one ofthe big three-sided mirrors in front of me. I could see my ankles andfeet sticking out from the stocks in their dazzling finery ofhigh-heels and diamond buckles and lace, and satin and silk. There wasnot a mark on the new white soles. They were the slippers of a wealthydebutante and I was going to be punished in them.Miss Priscilla kneeled and took my right foot in her hand and in aninstant piercing shrieks from my lips rang through the room. She bentdown my instep until I was sure that the bones must snap. Then shetwisted it to the right until I was certain my ankle must break, thenagain to the left.”Oh please, Miss Priscilla, this is dreadful. It’s torture! Oh, oh,my foot! You have lamed me for life.”But she was a doctor. She knew exactly how far she could punish mewithout breaking bones or spraining sinews. Then she clasped the legjust above the ankle in both hands and sawed her hands different wayspinching my tender flesh and provoking screams from me. Then she tookthe slippers delicately off my foot and whipped the sole with a littlewhalebone rod until I yelled again in a blinding storm of tears. Shereplaced the slipper and treated the left foot in the same way. Shereleased my legs and said:”Your feet won’t forget that lesson very quickly, Denise. Stand up!”Oh my feet are so tender.She raised me. To touch the ground tortured me.”Go back to your place. Will you stand quietly while I slap yourface?””Yes Miss Priscilla.”She smacked me cruelly again until my cheeks were fiery red, and Ithought my sobs would choke me.”Now we will go back to business, Denise.”She sat down calmly in her chair.”When did you first feel that you wanted ladies to dress you as a girland punish you?””When my governess took me over her knee. I was seven years old.While she slapped me I was looking down and I saw just below me herfeet which were very prettily-shaped and shod in elegant buttonedpatent leather boots with high-heels.”Miss Priscilla nodded.”I thought it would be something like that. You understand now,Denise, why we dressed you in girl’s clothes and are subjecting you todiscipline. If you loved the mere idea of it, how much more would thereal thing appeal to you! How much more easily you could be subduedand held in subjection!”Yes, the whole terrible plot which these two women had concocted toturn me into their willing prisoner was now revealed to me; yet Iseemed incapable to resist it. Miss Priscilla rose, clasped my waist,caressed my bosom.”You are not going to give us much trouble, Miss Satin-Slippers.”She took the handcuffs and chain from me.”Stand in the corner until I am ready for you. Your face to the wall,your dainty heels together, your hands behind you.”I obeyed. I heard Miss Priscilla moving the furniture.She led me out of the corner where I stood between the two mirrors. Inow saw a high stool of solid mahogany. It was seated with a paddedseat of white satin and at the edge of the seat, there were white satinstraps to tie down the legs above the knees. In the front of the solidstool, a little bar of steel with a ring at the end of it jutted outfor an inch or two just at the place where the ankles would be ifanyone were sitting on the stool and a flat back padded with whitesatin and with arms stretching out in the form of a cross rose behind.So at the extremities of the arms little handcuffs were fixed to holdthe arms extended.”I think your stockings can be drawn tighter up your legs, Denise.”She raised my skirt and carefully straining the fragile stockings upover my knees, shortened the suspenders.”Now mount on to the stool.”She placed a little gold footstool. I climbed on to the stool by meansof it and sat with my legs dangling. She took away the gilt footstool.She strapped with a white satin strap my waist tightly to the back ofthe stool, and extending my gloved arms one on each side fixed themwith the handcuffs to the cross. I watched her timidly.”You need not be frightened, Denise. I am not going to hurt you.”She fondled my bosom with her k**-gloved hands and actually kissed mewith her leathery lips. I was terribly excited. I waited in anextraordinary suspense. Then she tucked up my skirt in front andunderneath me until my white satin garters with the big bows andbuckles and the lace frills of my drawers were exposed. She strappedmy thighs down together to the edge of the seat just above the garters,so that my knees showing delicately pink through the filmy sheen of thetightly strained stockings, projected a little beyond the seat and myfeet hung down clear of the little steel bar and ring.”Can you move them? Try!”I saw in the bright light reflected from the mirror the round legstapering down in their shimmering meshes of silk to the neat littleivory ankles and exquisitely-slippered slender feet. I tried to movethem.”I can only move my insteps Miss Priscilla,” I said smiling. “I canmake my shoe-buckles flash, that’s all.””I don’t mind you doing that, dear. Watch your beautiful legs andfeet!” She took the satin-slippered feet in her hands and began tocaress and fondle them as she had fondled my breasts. Oh the feel andthe sight of her hand escort tuzla in their white k**-gloves, playing delicatelywith my shining satin slippers, dusting imaginary specks from thebright buckles, toying with the heels, sent thrills of voluptuouspleasure through me.”Isn’t it ridiculous Denise,” she said in a gentle insinuating voice,”to want to go back to heavy boots when you can attract everybody’sadmiration by the flash of your diamond buckles to the beautiful shapeof your feet and ankles and the loveliness of your shoes andstockings.”I smiled and blushed.”Perhaps, Miss Priscilla, “I whispered shyly.”I am sure dear,” she said.Her hands crept up to my insteps, patted and tickled them, spanned thebound ankles, rose over the smooth diamond-docked stockings, pinchedthe calves affectionately, reached the knees. I was trembling fromhead to foot. I watched my legs and feet in a delicious expectancy. Amirror was tilted underneath them in such a way that the new whitesoles and satin-covered heels were reflected in the big glass and weremade visible to me. Oh, the round soft legs in the shimmering gossamerof the tightly-stretched wonderful silk stockings, and the white satinstrap binding them deliciously together at the delicate ankles! Oh thelittle feet in their feminine finery, the slim girl’s slippers ofglistening satin like the strap which bound the ankles, light, fragile,beautiful pointed slippers which ladies made me wear as a punishment!Oh, the arched insteps, the high curving narrow heels! Ladies hadperched me up in them, as a punishment. Oh the blazing diamondbuckles! Ladies had had them set for me, had sewn them on theexquisite slippers as a badge of subjection, and to attract all eyes tothe loveliness of my feet.Miss Priscilla seemed to read my thoughts. For as she fondled myknees, she said:”Weren’t we right to dress you as the lovely girl you are, should bedressed, Denise? Why should ladies put up with a clumsy youth in uglytrousers, when they can have a prettily-corseted long-haired girltripping about the drawing-room in rustling tight satin frocks andlight little high-heeled buckled satin slippers which are a positivejoy to their eyes?””Weren’t we right?”Oh, yes, Miss Priscilla,” I murmured languorously.”And when we had dressed you and gloved you and corseted you, weren’twe right to take the silk-stockinged legs and cross the dainty slippersand bind the ankles with satin straps and the gloved hands withhandcuffs?”I stared at the reflection in the mirror, the beautiful girl with theflushed face and wanton smile upon her red lips and the white satinhigh-heeled slippers with the diamond buckles fitting with suchperfection over the glistening white silk stockings exposed, bound withsatin straps and handcuffs at the mercy of this thin shrivelled oldwoman in the black plain dress.”Oh you were right,” I murmured languorously. Her caressing handsextorted the admission.”Reflect,” she said “that no lady would punish you with this treatmentwere you dressed as a youth. It is only because you are corseted andcurled and white-bosomed and are wearing satin-slippers with high-heelsthat you are subjected to its exquisite degradation. Don’t you loveyour subjection?”Oh I do! I do!”It was I, Dennis Beryl, the youth with the great fortune and the loftyambitions who was speaking. But her k**-gloved bands caressed me. Icould give no other answer. I gave up my will, my life to her and toHelen. I leaned towards her as far as my handcuffs and my bonds wouldallow. I was in an ecstacy. To live satin-slippered and corseted withhandcuffed gloved-hands and strapped ankles in beautiful dcollet frocks- yes, I learnt that night from Miss Priscilla’s hands that this wasthe supreme joy life held out to me.”Keep me tied and daintily frocked! Oh Miss Priscilla thank you!” andI sank back with a drooping head.Miss Priscilla sprang up with a cry of triumph. She freed me from mybonds, led me over to a sofa and stretched me out upon it on my back.”I am going to cover your face,” she said and she took up a largehandkerchief. She gazed down with the utmost contempt at myoutstretched form.”It is all over with you now. Do you remember how you used to annoy mewith your dirty shooting clothes and your heavy noisy boots? No morenoisy boots Denise – ever! Only the daintiest little things of patentleather with slender taping heels for the future. We have finishedwith Evelyn Beryl.”I was floating back now into the ordinary world of men and women. Iwas ashamed. I moved restlessly.”Lie still.”She covered my face and left me. I beard her moving the furnitureagain. She snatched the handkerchief from my face.”Stand up Denise!”Where the stool had been there was now a chair and above the chair agilt rope with a strong hook at the end dangled down from a ring in theceiling. The rope had until this moment been wound round a glitteringchandelier quite close to the ring.I stood up. Miss Priscilla rapidly unlaced my dress behind, took myarms out of the shoulder straps and let it fall in billowy daintinessabout my feet. My one delicate petticoat followed.”Oh what are you going to do to me?” I moaned piteously.”I am going to make sure of things, Denise,” she said significantly,but once more quite pleasantly.I stood in my corset and pantalon ferm. She took two strong flatstraps of white silk which were padded and thick in the middle.”Open your legs Denise.””Oh Miss Priscilla!”I opened them. She passed the straps between my thighs; brought oneround outside each hip and joined the four ends which had loops in thesmall of my back. Making me hold them there, she drew up my petticoatand frock, and passing the four loops outside the frock where it lacedup the back, she dressed me again and fastened my dress. Thus I hadeach hip in a strong silk loop underneath my dress and the ends of theloops were outside my dress at about the middle of my back, held inposition there by the lacing of the frock.”Now your gloved-hands behind you!”She fitted the bright steel handcuffs over my wrists and at the touchof them the old delicious sense of being helpless in a woman’s handsreturned to me.Miss Priscilla intensified the feeling. For she turned me round like adoll, smiled pleasantly, and said, “You look very pretty and seductiveDenise,” and smoothed down my skirt.Vague longings and desires were swelling up in me again.”Mount up on to the chair Denise!”I looked down helplessly at the glittering buckles on my dainty satintoes.”I would if I could Miss Priscilla. But with my hands handcuffedbehind me, my heels are too slender and high. And my stockings are sotightly gartered that I should tear them.She patted my cheeks.”I don’t ask you to do impossible things Denise. I will help you.”She placed the gilt footstool in position and helped me up. Then sheslipped the four loops of the silk straps which were outside my frockover the hook at the end of the strong gilt rope. She could justmanage to do that, and the rope now held me standing on the chair.Miss Priscilla then raised my skirt up to my knees and with adelightful rustling of satin and chiffon gathered it in tightly at theback and fixed it up with a satin strap, leaving my silk-stockingedlegs exposed from knees to toes.”Now we will tie the dainty ankles together. Put the satin slippersside by side dear, buckle to buckle, heel to heel.”She bound my ivory ankles charmingly together, the padded strapssupporting me, with the white satin ribbon which she had used before.She then drew up another chair and mounting on it, passed a strong bandof blue satin matching the tunic of my dress round my breast andbuckled it behind, enclosing the gold cord.”There is one little final preparation Denise,” she said. I wastrembling with passion, with fear.What was she going to do? I was afraid – but stronger than the fearwas my delight in my ignominious position, in the tightness of thebonds about girl-gloved wrists and girl-shod feet. Miss Priscilla tooka long new k**-glove.”It will help to your subjection dear, if you associate your pleasurenot merely with your feet bound in girls’ high-heeled satin slippers,but with ladies’ white glac-k** gloves. I want you to have the perfumeof them in your nostrils.”She tied the glove over my lips gagging me daintily.”There,” she said as she stepped down. “Now you are ready, you prettything with the beautiful slippers.”She removed the chair and then pulled that on which I was standing fromunder me. I hung dangling in front of the mirror at the end of thegold cord in the air in all my lovely finery of a fashionable younglady at a ball. Oh, how deliciously bizarre the spectacle was. I hadno fear now. The straps about my thighs were strong; so was the rope,and the broad blue satin belt under my bosom and round the rope held meupright. Nor did I feel any pain, the silk straps where they pressedon me were so padded.”Now, darling, stretch your pretty feet down, the toes delightfullypointed. That’s right, “and she took my insteps in her gloved handsand arched them delightfully.”Now dear,” she said as she slid her hands up my legs, pinching themcaressingly, “I am going to flog these dainty soft calves in theirglistening gossamer silk stockings with a riding-whip.””Oh Miss Priscilla!” I murmured inarticulately through my gag. I hadnever felt so deliciously helpless as at this moment when looking intothe mirror I saw myself bound hand and foot dangling at the end of acord in my lovely dress with my poor legs in their delicate stockingsand slippers exposed, and Miss Priscilla calmly swishing her whaleboneriding-whip through the air. The sense of having nothing under my feetwas extraordinary. The perfume of the k**-glove over my lips wasintoxicating.”Watch your shoe-buckles darling, while I punish you and strain thefeet well down. You love hanging there at my mercy, don’t you?””Oh I do! I do!”The strangest thrills of voluptuous pleasure tingled through me. Ipulled at my hands to feel more certainly the steel handcuffs. Itwitched my toes and made my buckles flash to realize more completely,more entrancingly, the bonds about my ankles.”Now then!” and swish, the riding whip slashed viciously across mycalves. I uttered a cry of pain.Again it fell. I drew up my knees to my chin in a spasm of anguish.”I want you Denise dear to associate supreme delight not merely withyour girlish finery and loveliness, but with pain endured while youlook your girlish best. Three!” and a third time the little whalebonecurled round the legs, stinging and burning them. Oh how I kicked.The shining slippers flashed in the air like silver, the slipperbuckles like coloured flames, and again and again the cruel whaleboneswitch rose and fell. I burst into screams and sobs, I twirled andspun at the end of my cord seeking vainly to elude the cuts of her thinwhip. And then my sobs diminished. I ceased in an extraordinary wayto be conscious of the pain as anything but a delightful evidence ofsubjection. I saw myself in the dress and the dancing slippers of afastidious fashionable young lady twirling in the air at the end of arope with her dainty frock fastened up to her knees while a plainlydressed prim old maid flogged the round smartly-stockinged,tightly-bound legs. The bizarrerie of the position overwhelmed me. Ipointed my toes, I strained my legs down to meet the blows. I was in aseventh Heaven; pain and pleasure were inextricably mingled. MissPriscilla laid down her whip at last.That will do, she said, contemplating with undisguised contempt myjerking helpless daintily clothed figure. “Your education Denise is Ithink complete.”She helped me down, removed the straps from my thighs, unfastened mylegs and hands, took the glove from my lips and wiped my hot face. Shegave me a glass of champagne, and then, with a disdainful smack on mybottom, she said: “Now take your pretty feet back to thedrawing-room.”Ashamed I curtsied low to her and went out of the room. But the venomwas in my veins. As I walked down the stairs, the rustle of my frock,the feel of it clinging delicately about my ankles, the gleamingbuckles, the lightness of my slippers, the sensation of high slenderheels all ravished me. Yes, I wanted to be kept in subjection as abeautifully dressed girl.I entered the drawing room. Violet was alone reading a novel in anarm-chair. How pretty she looked in her frock of ninon de sole, herlittle slippers! Oh the venom was in my veins. For the moment I sawher young and pretty and dainty. I longed to be punished by her. MissPriscilla had done her work.”You have been a long time,” Violet said peevishly. I have been herealone and it has been very dull.She was annoyed. I smiled and blushed.”What has Miss Priscilla been saying to you? Here was my chance and Itook it.I flung myself into a chair, crossed my knees and swung asatin-slippered foot indolently to and fro.”You must find out, my pretty one,” I said.Her eyes flashed dangerously.”Don’t be impertinent, Denise. And uncross your legs at once! Putyour heels together and turn your toes out and answer me.”I swung my foot more violently.”I warn you Denise,” she said.I began to unbutton a glove with an impertinent smile.”Very well. It is your fault Denise. Go and fetch me a cane.”She sat up sternly.”A cane?”I was horrified. I had not meant to provoke her to inflicting sosevere a punishment. My legs stung me horribly. I wanted no morewhipping.”You will find one in the punishment room. Bring it here and bequick!”My face clouded over.”Oh Violet!””It’s too late to plead for mercy. Be quick.” Reluctantly I rose. Ifetched a cane. Oh I had been a fool to provoke her.”Hold out your hands straight from the shoulder, one on each side.Your feet prettily in position.” And slash, slash, slash, slash, thecane descended alternately on each k**-gloved outstretched hand.”I’ll teach you to be impertinent Denise,” slash, slash, – Violet wasfurious, her pretty face was convulsed with rage.”Oh that’s enough Violet”.”Not nearly,” slash, slash, I burst into tears. Violet laughedtriumphantly. “So you won’t put your heels together when I tell you,”slash, slash. “And you won’t turn your buckled pointed toes out when Iorder you,” – slash, slash.”Oh Violet” I will, I will,” I sobbed.”Oh you will,” slash. “Don’t rub your knees together.” – slash, slash.”Stand quite still, Miss High-heels, “slash, slash, slash, slash.She flung the cane down.”Your hands behind you.”She fetched two white thin cords of silk. And with one while I stoodwith my bare shoulders shaking with sobs, my pretty friend bound myhands together with a savage cruelty.”Now kneel on the sofa.”She raised my skirts to help me. I knelt.”Perhaps you will put your pretty feet and ankles together, now.”She tied my ankles, my high-heels and my insteps tightly together.Then she said. “Lean over the back of the sofa.””Oh you are not going to cane me again.””No, I am not going to cane you Denise,” she said sternly, as sheturned back my pretty frock and took my drawers down to my knees. “Iam going to birch you do you understand, pretty fool. I am going tobirch this white tender flesh,” and she pinched it with her fingers.”I am going to cover it with red stripes and wheals.””Oh Violet.””Silence.”She ran quickly into the punishment room and came out again with aterrible birch tied with pink ribbon.”Oh Violet you couldn’t be so cruel!”She ran lightly over to me in her satin slippers. Oh a girl so prettyand so young couldn’t mean to punish me so severely for so trivial afault.”Bend well over,” and she flourished the birch and made it whistle inthe air. I was helpless.”Oh Violet, if you must birch me, please lock the door first and gag mymouth. I know I shall scream, and it would be so disgraceful to beseen tied hand and foot in my dinner-dress and being birched by a girlyounger than myself,” I said piteously.”You don’t deserve it Denise,” she said. “But I love you darling, so Iwill spare you unnecessary humiliation.”She locked the door, carefully gagged my mouth and then tenderly kissedme.”I am sorry Denise, but you must be soundly birched,” she said and shetook her place. How cold the air was on my naked flesh, how shamefulmy position!”One, two, three, four.” The twigs whistled through the air and slashedmy tender flesh. I should have shrieked at the first stroke, had mymouth not been gagged. My bottom was already so tender.”Is this your first birching Denise?”I nodded my head.”A virgin bottom!” slash, slash. “It’s delicious to punish it,” smack,slash, slash. She was like a young fury. “Fancy violating your bottomdarling,” slash, slash. “A regular **** isn’t it?” she criedgleefully, and again the twigs fell. I twisted and writhed, my bottomdanced and flinched, the tears streamed down my face. “Already the fatpretty soft thing is striped with red, dearest,” slash, slash. “Butyou shall have a purple bottom before I have done with you,” slash,slash. Her strength seemed to increase with each stroke. “A purplemoon of a bottom to show to your friends!” slash, slash, slash, slash.”There’s still a little white place here,” slash. “And another here,”slash. She flogged me daintily, carefully, never breaking the skin,but making it swell, covering it with bruises and wheals. And thenonce more suddenly my sobs began to diminish. I ceased to feel thepain. I was leaning over the sofa. Oh, oh! I was being punished inmy satin slippers and silk stockings! That was the thought which tookaway my pain….Violet finished.”Now to wind up properly, I will give you six strokes with the caneacross the thin soles of your pretty slippers.” I could not protest,but I jerked and writhed in my bonds. Violet took up the cane.”One, two. Oh I won’t tear the slippers. I’ll keep to the soles, youpretty vain creature! Three, four! I know your vanity was troubledlest I should spoil the dainty shoes. Five, six.”She untied my feet, and took the gag from my mouth. She led me on to amirror holding up my dress, for my wrists she still kept tied behind myback, and showed me my posterior. Oh what a dreadful condition I wasin. A few minutes before white and pretty, now a discoloured uglything with black patches of congealed blood, and purple stripes. Itfelt dreadfully heavy too, and the pain tortured me.”Oh Violet,” I exclaimed piteously “how could you spoil it!””It was good for you to have it spoilt,” she said.She fixed up my drawers, readjusted my dress, and put her arms round mywaist. Her anger was all gone. She looked at my piteous face withgentle eyes. She dried my eyes affectionately.”Kiss me Denise darling,” and our lips for a long time clungpassionately together.”Stand there!”She replaced the birch and the cane and picking up the fragments oftwigs from the floor burnt them in the fire. Then she unlocked thedoor.”Phoebe will know of course when she puts you to bed,” she said. “Butno one else need. Come here!”She was folding a big white handkerchief I crossed the room to hertimidly.”You are not going to punish me any more.””I am going to see darling whether you will now put your high-heelstogether and turn your dainty toes out when I tell you to. I am goingto blindfold your eyes, stand you up on a chair with your face to thewall, just by the armchair in which I am sitting.”I blushed – but with pleasure. My eyes danced, my lips smiled. Shefixed the bandage over my eyes and tied it at the back of my hair.Then she turned me round, clapped her hands delightedly and kissed meardently on the lips. She led me to the chair. She guided my littlesatin slippers up onto it. She placed me in position. Then at my sideshe sat down in her arm-chair and resumed her book. I stood there foran hour blindfolded with my hands tied, and reefing every now and thenher dainty little hand steal under my dress, touch my feet to make surethey had not moved, caress my ankles, play with my slipper buckles andhigh-heels. Miss Priscilla had done her work well that night. For thehour was an hour of bliss.Chapter SixMy life, – my revolt. Exit Denise, enter Miss High-heels. An eveningof humiliation. A terrible birching. My scarlet corsage. Helen’striumph. Evelyn disappears. A final scene after two years. Thereturn from the Ball. The book ends with punishment and kisses.************It was Helen’s policy to make my life as a girl delightful to me. Thenext few months were months of pleasure tempered by fits of regret andremorse. But the fits did not last long. I was surrounded withluxuries. I was spoilt. I had beautiful dresses, a horse to ride,Violet to run about with, dainty tyrannies to endure, a great deal ofliberty, and exciting punishments. Miss Priscilla was extraordinarilyfertile in her expedients. To mix pain and pleasure in an inextricableconfusion in my mind, so that I should never be able to think greatpleasure possible without an accompaniment of pain. This was herdesign. For once this belief was implanted in my mind I must alwayslong to remain in subjection to my dainty tyrants. Thus I rememberaddressing to her a flippant impertinence at a garden party. She tookme at once to the motor-car and drove home with me. I was dressed in along trailing frock of misty dark grey crepe de chine, with a big greysatin hat to match trimmed with grey ostrich feathers and a bow ofgreen ribbon. I was wearing black silk stockings and littlehigh-heeled patent leather button boots smart and quite new. MissPriscilla led me into the punishment room where a sewing machine stood.She strapped my feet in their smart boots into the treadles, pushed along mirror in front of me and said: “Now get to work, MissHigh-heels!” I began to work the machine.”Quicker! Quicker!”I obeyed. In the mirror I could see the little feet in theirfashionable dainty boots flashing up and down, undergoing punishment.”Still quicker!”My thighs bruised one another. My face got red, but not merely withexertion and then in a delirium of passion, the feet raced up and down,a wanton smile shone in my eyes and on my lips. Miss Priscilla made mego on working the sewing machine in my dainty gown and fashionablebright buttoned boots for the rest of the afternoon.But I must pass over the incidents of that time, the revenge which LadyHartley’s daughter who was jealous, deliberately took upon Violet andmyself, the punishment of the velvet bag, the mask, the short frock,the dancing lesson, the mustard and the poultices. If my readers wishto hear more about the penalties which my tyrants in their ingenuityinvented, they have only to say the word.Meanwhile I hurry on towards the end.In the autumn Helen gave a ball at Beaumanoir. I was dressed for theoccasion in a plain exquisitely fitting long white velvet gown whichmolded my figure like a glove and fell in softly gleaming folds to myfeet. A white satin sash about the waist alone broke the line.Diamonds and pearls flashed on white neck and shoulders, glitteredabout my white gloved-wrists, sparkled amidst my curls. My stockingsof course were of the finest gauze silk and glittered with gems, whilethe fronts of my white satin slippers, which tonight had the heelsraised to four and a half inches, blazed with diamonds and werefinished with the daintiest bows made of diamonds. When my feet peepedout from the hem of my dress one saw two little sparkling shields ofdiamonds. When I showed myself to Helen before the dance she warnedme.”There’s a great many coming to the ball, Denise, and very likely theball-room will get hot. People no doubt will go out into the garden oron to the terrace between the dances. But you must not. Rememberthat! On a night like this, thieves may be lurking about the house,and you are wearing thousands of pounds worth of jewels. Your lovelylittle flashing slippers alone are worth a fortune. You wouldn’t liketo be k**napped and robbed, would you Denise?””No,” I replied with a shiver. “No indeed!” Yet I disobeyed Helen.Half-way through the dance I went out on to the terrace and smoked asurreptitious cigarette with Violet. As I returned through the glassdoor into the drawing-room I saw Helen. Worse she saw me. Shebeckoned me across the room to her.She seized me by the hand and turned me with my face to the wall at herside.”Your heels together at once Denise, and your hands behind you,” shewhispered in a savage voice, and to Violet she said, “You can go to bedat once.”Miss Priscilla in a dress of dark mauve satin with a chemisette of lacefilling the bosom joined her. They waited until the guests hadreturned to the ball-room. Then Helen slid back the panel into thepunishment room and pushed me in roughly. Priscilla followed andclosed it.”I am sorry,” I faltered, “that I disobeyed you, Helen.”Helen was in a rage.”Gag her,” she said savagely to Miss Priscilla. A scarf gagged mymouth the next moment. They pinioned my elbows to my side and bound myhands in front of me with satin ribbons. I was dreadfully frightened.Helen was so furious. She was pale with anger.”Stand up! Press your legs and feet tightly together Denise!”I obeyed. The two women stooped and while Miss Priscilla gathered inmy lovely velvet dress behind my legs, Helen with a strongcarpet-needle actually sewed it up from my haunches to my ankles,spoiling the gown and sewing my legs together in a tight sheath ofgleaming white velvet which revealed their contours. Oh there would beno more dancing for me to-night in my sparkling satin-slippers!Then while Miss Priscilla supported me, Helen tied my ankles, whichwere exposed, tightly together with a satin ribbon and knotted itangrily.A bright fire was blazing. They placed me on a chair close to it andthen Helen at my side sat down on a stool.”Take care that Miss Denise does not fall off the chair Aunt,” she saidgrimly.Miss Priscilla held me firmly by the shoulders. Oh, what were theygoing to do with me? I was helpless! Helen stooped, she lifted mylegs rigid and helpless in their dainty gleaming velvet sheath and heldout the strapped feet in their diamond-covered slippers close to theblaze of the fire.”I’ll teach these pretty high-heeled things to walk where I tell them,”she cried and she held my legs firmly while the heat of the flamestortured my feet. I writhed and struggled.”Yes, twist about Denise!” she said savagely. “A lot of good it willdo you.”The perspiration burst out on my forehead. My slippers were scorching,my toes curled and twitched inside the slippers, the diamond bows andsparkling fronts flashed and glittered. I was helpless. I could noteven cry out. The flames almost touched the soles of my shoes. Thepain was terrible. I was on the point of swooning when they took mefrom the fire and stretched me out on a sofa for the rest of theevening. I did not recover the full use of my feet for a week.Soon afterwards, a young and rising politician who had made his waywithout influence or friends came to our neighbourhood to make aspeech. I went with Helen and Violet and sat upon the platform. Thespeaker had a great reception and made a magnificent speech. Thecheers and enthusiasm of the meeting tortured me. If he, without help,could rise so soon to such a position, what a splendid career I oughtto have with all my advantages! I returned home sad and discontented.I followed Helen to her boudoir.”How long is this going to last?” I asked.”How long are you going to keep me in girl’s clothes, and rob me of myposition?”Helen looked at me calmly.”Not a moment longer than you wish, dear,” she said. “You shall comeout of your girl’s clothes now.”I was wearing a very pretty black velvet gown ornamented with big satinbuttons, patent leather shoes with silver buckles, a big black hat withblue ribbons of satin tied on one side under the chin and long whitek**-gloves. Helen stripped me there and then of everything except myhat, my three gloves, my black silk stockings and garters, and myhigh-heeled shoes. Then she strapped my hands behind me.”Come Denise,” she said taking me by the arm and opening the door, andpushing me into the passage. I was dreadfully ashamed. I tried tohide myself against her. I begged her pardon.”Too late,” she said.She took me down into the little drawing-room and made me stand in thecorner there until it was time to dress for dinner.”There is a dinner party to-night dear,” she said quizzing me. “Youshall appear as Evelyn Beryl and I hope you will like it.”Phoebe dressed me in a girl’s chemise and drawers with heavy lacefrills, laced me into a corset tighter than I usually wore by an inch,gloved me to the shoulders in white k**, put on to me a very dcolletcorsage of white satin and lace, a little tight pair of black velvetknickers which only reached to the middle of my thighs and werefastened there with diamond buckles and big jewelled buttons, leavingthe frills of my drawers exposed. Girls’ transparent black stockingsstrained tightly up to the corsets and adorned with big ruffledbow-garters of blue satin just above the knees, which the frills of mydrawers constantly exposed, and girls’ patent leather shining slipperswith diamond buckles and scarlet Louis Quinze heels five and a halfinches high, set off my legs and feet. A short sleeved black velvetcoat cut tightly into my corseted waist and made in the style ofFragonard’s pictures, lined with white satin and smart with jewelledbuttons was slipped on over my bodice. It was open in front and showedmy dcolletage, the swelling bosom, the girl’s throat. My hair wastaken down and arranged in long shining curls and tied back from myface with a white satin ribbon tied in an enormous bow. A white satinsash with a great bow and a diamond buckle on my left hip, a girl’s bighat of blue satin, earrings, necklaces, and bracelets completed thiscostume. What made it still more humiliating was a horriblearrangement in front of the tight knickers. A big bow of black satinwas passed through a great oval ruby buckle which blazed like fireagainst the softly gleaming black velvet.In this humiliating dress Phoebe and Netta dragged me with jeers alongthe passages of my own house to Helen’s bedroom.I was in tears. Helen chained my hands behind me and fixed littleblack fetters of polished steel on my ankles. She was deliciouslydressed in pink satin.”Turn round Miss High-heels,” she said sternly.”That is your name for the future – Miss Evelyn High-heels the onlyname you will be known by. Turn round and let me see that the seams ofyour delicate stockings are straight.” She showed me to myself in themirrors. I looked just like a pretty grown-up girl dressed for somefantastic, masquerade. “Oh Helen,” I moaned “you can’t show me offdressed like this. You promised that I shouldn’t be dressed as agirl.””You certainly aren’t dressed as a young lady, Evelyn,” she said with alaugh. “Young ladies don’t show the frills of their pantalons as arule, nor so much pretty stocking. Nor do they wear flaunting scarletheels as high as yours. Only improper women and young effeminategentlemen undergoing discipline wear five and a half inch heels ontheir dainty shoes.””But the ruby buckle in front – Oh that’s horrible.””You will wear that dear as the symbol of your subjection to my sex,the sign that over your sex, the sex of woman is imposed.”Handcuffed and fettered in this dress I was carried downstairs inPhoebe’s arms into the drawing-room, and presented to my neighboursassembled for dinner. I could have died of shame. Congratulationswere showered upon Helen.”What an improvement!” cried Mrs. Dawson, the vicar’s wife. “He isvery like Denise.””Yes I wish Denise could have stayed,” said Helen,” for us to comparethem. She has gone home to her aunt this afternoon, where I am afraidshe is not very happy.”The ladies crowded round me, the men guffawed contemptuously.”I think the fetters and handcuffs complete the dress so prettily,”said Lady Hartley.The old dtraqu General stooped and felt my feet.”The shoes are very smart,” he said. “High-heeled girls’ shoes aresuch a good thing for wilful and disobedient young gentlemen.””He has certainly never looked so pretty,” said Guy Repton with asnigger.” I am sure he ought to be very grateful to his youngstep-sister for the dainty care with which she has dressed and moldedhis figure.”Thus they talked of me. I stood red with shame. During dinner I wasmade to stand up in the center of the table before them all with myheels together, and was only allowed to eat when they were havingdessert. After dinner I shuffled in my fetters with the ladies intothe drawing-room. Helen placed me in a chair with my feet on a satinfootstool gave me some embroidery to work at with my gloved fingers andtold me to be silent and work hard.At ten o’clock she took the work away. “You mustn’t spoil your prettyeyes dear,” she said. “And you mustn’t read a novel for you would soilthose dainty white k**-gloves with the cover, and you mustn’t dance foryour scarlet heels are too high. You had better come with me. Violetwill you come too?”Helen slid back the panel of the punishment room, and made me lie facedownwards on a white satin ottoman. She placed a white satin cushionunder my bosom to lift it up.”Hold up your head Evelyn High-heels. That’s right.” She took a littlepatent leather strap and bound my white gloved hands tightly behind me.Then she turned carefully up the lace frills and strapped my legstogether above the knees. With a third biting little patent leatherstrap she fixed my ankles together. Finally with a fourth strap shetied my feet back to my legs in the most painful fashion.”Violet will you see that Miss High-heels keeps her pretty face up anddoes not move.”Violet took a book and sat down in a comfortable chair beside theottoman.I was so strained in my miserable position that I could not keep still,and holding my head back and face high in the air wreaked my neck.Yetif I stirred Violet pinched my calves mercilessly, and if I lowered myface to rest my neck, she boxed my ears until my head sang.”I thought you loved me Violet,” I said.”I loved a very pretty girl-friend called Denise,” she replied coldly.”How do you like being a man Miss High-heels? Keep your bright littleslippers still! After all it is not entire joy being a man is it? Youhad better have remained a girl. You look lovely in your velvetknickers but that is because you have a girl’s figure and face, handsand feet.”Helen and Miss Priscilla came in an hour, sent Violet to bed and tookdown my knickers.”We are going to start you off on your new career as a high-heeledyoung gentleman with a good birching,” said Helen.They laid me on my face on an ottoman, made the wheel run along theceiling until the rope in the groove hung above my feet. Theysubstituted for the leather strap a silk strap which bound my anklestightly together. This they fastened to the hook at the end of therope and by touching a lever in the wall, the rope was wound up until Ihung head downwards in the air. Helen birched me in this attitudeuntil I thought my head would burst. They lowered me, removed myknickers and laid me again on my face on the ottoman. They doubledback my legs and tied my right foot up to my right gloved elbow, myleft foot to the left elbow, my hands of course, being still strappedbehind me. Then they dragged my thighs apart and secured them in thisposition. Helen took a new birch. In her exquisite rustling frock ofpink satin, her little satin slippers peeping restlessly out beneaththe skirt, her face flushed and radiant with enjoyment, she lookedwonderfully pretty. She stood beside me with her back to my head.Daintily holding my left strapped-back foot in her left hand, sheflogged me between the thighs.I screamed for mercy.”You had better be thoroughly birched to-night darling,” she said.”The recollection will save my pretty Miss High-heels many a birchingin the future.”The twigs slashed and slashed me between my thighs curling up on to thestomach underneath and torturing with anguish the most tender parts ofmy body.Then she set me free.”Put on your knickers, Evelyn, again.”Writhing with pain, I took off my slippers. I could not have got thetight knickers over my high-heels, drew on my pantalon and knickers andMiss Priscilla fixed them up and buttoned and buckled them at mythighs. Then she removed my coat corsage, stays and chemise, strippingme naked from the waist upwards. There were some panels oflooking-glass in the walls. How strange I looked in them, the buckledslippers the silk stockings, the frills, the pretty black velvetknickers with the jewelled buttons and rising out of them the whitebosom and shoulders of a girl!They laid me on the ottoman at the end of which a pair of stocks wasfixed. They put me on my face, fixed my ankles in the stocks and myhands down to the legs of the ottoman.”It is your turn now Aunt,” said Helen to Miss Priscilla.I was sobbing as if my heart would break.My thighs were on fire.”Oh please no more.”Helen took a seat in front of me and patted my tear-stained face withplayful fingers.”We are going to dress you in a scarlet corsage dear, which will goextremely prettily with your smart black velvet knickers. It will be askin-tight dcollet corsage and Aunt Priscilla’s birch will do all thedressmaking. I am not sure that it ought not to be a high-neckedcorsage. We will see. Go on Auntie.”Miss Priscilla took a new birch, long and supple and horrible. Sheswished it up and down and then she began cutting my back from left toright and afterwards from right to left avoiding carefully the skin ofmy shoulders which an evening bodice would leave exposed.I struggled and yelled and sobbed.”Oh it’s dreadful! It’s intolerable! Oh take all my fortune! Turn meout as a beggar! Only don’t torture me. Ohooooooooooooh!Aaaaah!aaaaaaah!”Helen laughed and lifted up her lovely little pink satin slipper to mymouth.”Kiss my foot dear!”I obeyed. The feel of her warm dainty instep under my lips almost mademe forget the pain.”There that will do,” said Miss Priscilla. She released my hands andbound them behind me. I had no power of resistance. I was twitching,and writhing and torn with sobs. But they had no pity for me. Theyturned me over on my back and then Miss Priscilla birched my stomach.The agony of that punishment was the worst of all. When she releasedme I was trembling from head to foot, my teeth were chattering, I wasgoing to swoon.”No nonsense Miss High-heels,” said Helen sternly.”Stand up prettily in your bright buckled slippers and pretty velvetknickers.”She gave me some champagne and brandy. Then she took a little ridingwhip.”Oh, no more!””We shall teach you obedience darling.” Slash. “There is a good oneand here’s another.” Slash, slash. “Oh we’ll cook you finely. Allyour wealth.” Slash. “All your jewels.” Slash, slash. “All yourpretty clothes, and high-heeled shoes won’t save you.” Slash, slash.She kept turning me round, searching out white unbeaten spots on mybody, and when she found one she slashed it until it matched the restof me.”There you are dear in your scarlet corsage,” she said kissing mecontemptuously. Phoebe was rung for and she carried me upstairssobbing bitterly half-naked as I was and put me to bed.I remained in bed ten days thinking – thinking hard. On the eleventhday I was able to bear corsets once more round my body. I was allowedto get up. It was the evening and after dinner. I was dressed in themost wonderful costume of palest lavender satin – dcollet corsage, asash with long gold fringed streamers, down to the heels of my shoesand a great bow at my back, short satin knickers with a ruby buckle infront, and diamond buckles at the thighs, the frills of my drawers -which also were short and did not hide my knees, fluttering,open-worked silk stockings and satin slippers which were covered withdiamonds and had diamond bows besides and five and a half inch heels;and of course long white k**-gloves.I was led to Helen. She kissed me affectionately. I was encouraged tosay:”Helen please don’t keep me dressed like this!””But I love you like this,” she said leading me to a long mirror.”Stand with your satin slippers together. You look exquisite dear withyour curls swinging down to your waist and your tall slender figuretightly encased in lavender satin.””But I can’t go out dressed like this.””This is an evening dress, darling. You can go out in your velvetknickers and your little buttoned patent leather boots.””But everybody will jeer at me.””I think that you will find that they will make love to you, dear,”Helen answered with a smile.”But when am I to be allowed to wear trousers again.””Never,” said Helen decidedly. She sat down. I stared at her aghast.”Never?””Of course not. How can you wear trousers with those hips and thatwaist and that pretty posterior?””But it’s my corset which intensifies the girlish look of them,” I saidblushing deeply.”No doubt, but you can never get rid of your corset darling. Rememberthat you have girl’s round breasts. You must have a support for them,otherwise your figure would soon be ruined. It would be ridiculous tolet you wear trousers. You look pretty now. You would only look sillyand, dear, rather improper in trousers.”I got red with confusion.”Yes,” Helen went on, “I am responsible for your good name. That cannever be.”I saw that it was in vain to bend her. I recognized also some truth inher observations. She and Miss Priscilla between them had had theirrevenge. I had inherited my father’s fortune and in return they hadmade me irrevocably a girl.I fell on my knees before her, as she had prophesied that I would.”Then Helen I have been thinking. Let Evelyn Beryl disappearaltogether.”I saw a flash of triumph in her eyes.”Let him die! You will become mistress of the estate. Let Denisereturn to you. I am never to marry. I am never to wear trousers. Iam never to have control. Let me have the liberty, the life of agirl.”Helen kissed me ardently. To this she had been bringing me.”I will make you very happy Denise,” she said. “I will keep youbeautifully dressed. You shall have Violet, your friends, yourenjoyments.”So it was arranged. With Guy Repton’s help and her lawyer’s and myenormous fortune all was easily arranged. I was sent down dressed as agirl under Miss Priscilla’s charge to a little lonely house by the sea.Helen announced that I had gone to a German University to complete myeducation. A student dying of consumption with a very poor family wasbribed (as were his parents) to assume my name. He died and wascremated as Dennis Evelyn Beryl. You may see his tombstone in a littlechurchyard at Bonn.Helen went to Germany for the funeral. No one raised any difficultiesor suspected any fraud. Her lawyer was well-paid. All over my estatethe tenants were delighted that she was now the real owner andmistress. On her return she announced that she was going to make ahome for Denise Beryl out of memory for poor Evelyn. Denise had madeherself popular. Denise was welcomed. I came back as a girl. Violetwas delighted. What of me? Let one final scene be the answer.It is two years later.A magnificent ball at a great house in the height of the London season.A conservatory screened with palms and lit with a dim light. Throughthe door comes the languorous music of a waltz. Inside theconservatory two armchairs are close together. In one a girl dressedin a lovely rich frock of white velvet, pink roses in her corsage andin her hair, jewels on her white neck and her gloved wrists. Her redlips are smiling, her bright eyes sparkling, her fair face radiant withpleasure. At her side bending towards her a young handsome man with alook of force upon his face, the young man who had made the brilliantspeech in Hampshire and is now a cabinet minister. The young manspeaks.”Denise, I must call you Denise. You are adorable from your curls tothe tips of your little buckled satin slippers.”Denise laughs, blushes and coquettishly places together in view thelittle white shining high-heeled shoes.”My heart is beneath them,” says the young man. “How shall I proveit?” Denise turns her sparkling eyes to her companion.”Kiss them on your knees,” she says. They are alone they think: theyoung man drops on his knees and reverently kisses the small feet.Denise springs up with a laugh. “I must go. I have a partner for thisdance.””You will give me your hand?” the young man implores.”You ask too much,” says Denise with a smile, “I have already given youmy feet.”She runs lightly to the ball-room. She has lost her position, herfortune, her authority as a man but she has gained, as a girl, powerwhich few men ever have.Yet she in her turn is subject to others. A young woman, dark-hairedand pretty, clothed in a gown of gold brocade, gold slippers andstockings rises from behind another palm and walks quietly to theball-room. She taps Denise with her fan upon her pretty whiteshoulders.”I was in the conservatory,” she says.Denise looks alarmed.”Helen,” she falters imploringly.”I heard you Denise. I cannot allow such vanity and ill-manners. Saygood-night to your hostess.”Denise crosses the ball-room and says good-night. She has been lookingforward to another hour of dancing. She comes back to Helen with ananxious face.”Pick up the train of your dress, Denise and follow me.” Helen isfamiliar with the house. The hostess is her friend. She walksplacidly along the corridors. Denise follows timidly holding up hervelvet dress. The diamond buckles on her little smart satin slipperssparkle and tremble as her shaking feet follow in Helen’s steps. Helencomes to a deserted dimly-lit passage, opens the door and turns on theelectric light. They are in a library. Helen locks the door. She hasa gold bag at her wrist. She takes from it a white silk stay lace.”Your hands.”Whimpering, but not protesting, the pretty girl turns her white back toHelen and obediently joins her hands. In a moment they are boundtogether by the stay-lace which cuts into the delicate k**-gloves.”Open your mouth!”A lace handkerchief is forced into it. The next moment, Denise in herball-gown is lying face downwards over Helen’s lap, the skirt is tossedback, the frilled drawers of batiste hardly veiling the white bottomare revealed, and Helen’s white gloved hand falls twelve times withresounding smacks on the exposed bottom which quivers at every stroke.Helen places Denise upon her feet, unbinds her ankles, rearranges herdress. Denise is weeping. Helen removes the gag from the girl’s lipsand marches her to a corner of the room.”The carriage is not ordered for an hour. You will stand here until Ifetch you. No one will come and I shall lock the door and take thekey,” says Helen.She stoops, she produces a piece of chalk from her gold bag. One afterthe other she picks up the pretty feet of her prisoner and chalks thesoles of the glistening satin slippers. She places the feet carefully,with the high heels together.”I shall know Denise, if you move.”She turns off the light, locks the door and takes the key. She walksplacidly back to the ball-room. Denise with her hands tied behind herstands in the corner and weeps silently, not daring to move her buckledsatin dancing-slippers.In a hour Helen comes back cloaked for departure, with another whitesatin cloak over her arm. She replaces the key and entering the room,switches on the light again. She lifts the gleaming frock of whitevelvet to see if her prisoner’s dainty shoes have moved. They have notdared. She wipes the soles clean and then fastens the cloak roundDenise.”We will keep your hands tied Denise,” and Denise, ashamed and afraidlest any of the other girls, or any of the men should detect herpunishment, follows Helen closely to the front door. A carpet leads tothe carriage. Helen helps Denise in to the luxurious automobile. Shesteps in afterwards, takes her seat besides Denise, and slips from thegirl’s shoulders and her own their satin cloaks. The door is closed.An electric lamp illumines the automobile. As it drives off, Helenstoops with a thin cord of white silk in her hands.At once follow prayers and entreaties from Denise, a deliciouscommotion of her billowy velvet skirt, an entrancing rustling of herlace petticoat, a pretty sparkling of agitated slipper-buckles in thedepths of the carriage on the white little satin-shod feet.”No, no, I won’t have it,” says Denise obstinately. Helen says not aword, but in the depths of the carriage a pair of small resolute handstightly gloved are engaged in subduing a pair of dainty mutinousankles, tightly encased in filmy white silk stockings.The delicately-gloved hands gradually win the victory.The high-heeled glistening slippers are crossed at last, the nervousfingers quickly loop the silk cord twice round the fluttering anklesand draw it tight and still tighter. There is still a feeble littletwitching of pretty toes, but in a few moments even that ceases. Thesmall feet in their fairy-like slippers submit reluctantly to thedegradation of the cord. It is knotted tight about the ankles. Helenrises again lifting up in her arms the velvet-sheathed legs now rigidand helpless of her prisoner and extends the dainty satin-slipperedfeet upon the opposite seat. She bends over Denise.”You resisted me dear. Three days in the dark prison on bread andwater,” she murmurs.She takes the trembling girl in her arms. After a minute or so with asweet rustling of dainty lace dessous Denise turns her slimvelvet-clothed body on its side and buries her flushed face in hermistress’ white bosom.”Oh Helen,” she murmurs.The gloved bound hands are twitching spasmodically behind her back, thetightly-corded satin-slippered feet are strained and arched in somedelicious tension, soft drawn out sighs of languor burst from herperfumed lips.”Three days on bread and water in a dark prison, Denise,” says Helen.”Three years, darling, if you wish,” sighs Denise, and ardent kissesbruise a pair of tender mouths.
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