 |
|||
|
|
Chapter 17 – A New Predator
Sunlight streamed in through the stained led window above Charlie's bed. The shaft of bright sunshine predicted a temperate and hospitable summer for the city. The vivid light revealed a sleeping Charlie, clad in her pink ballerina sleeper.
Throughout the night she had tossed and turned, entwining her sheets about her so that as she awoke to face the new day, she had to untangle herself from the pink coverlet and upon rising found that breakfast awaited her, coco pops with a pitcher of cold milk.
The coco pops had been poured into a bowl similar to the plastic plate she had been served dinner on the night before. The rim of the bowl sported a series of blissful teddy bears clad in fanciful clothes frolicking about a maypole. She sat at her desk eating the coco pops and pensively considered the copy of "The Adventures of Isabelle" sitting on her desk.
Frustrated with the lack of stimulus in this bedroom, being deprived of her ubiquitous cable television that sat in her real bedroom back home, Charlie picked up the book and started reading while eating her coco pops. Absent-mindedly she read the first few pages while consuming breakfast. Despite the soppy main character, Charlie was grateful to have anything to do that took her mind off her surroundings and predicament.
Marking the page as she finished her breakfast she made her way to the bathroom where she squirmed her way out of the babyish sleeper and hopped into the shower.
Years of routine kicked in as she washed her hair, lathered her body in soap and attended to the modest growth around her crotch with a razor. If someone had asked Charlie why she kept herself clean-shaven she wouldn't have had a ready answer. The truth was she had come to a sub-conscious decision years ago that her imminent entry to womanhood was a threat to the continuation of her chosen lifestyle. With this thinking in place she had resolved to remove all the downy evidence of her womanhood, a practice she had unthinkingly repeated every morning of her life since the age of twelve. Yet despite the circumstances of her imprisonment and the pseudo-paedophiliac nature of her enforced new lifestyle, she continued the practice without conscious thought.
Having attended to her personal hygiene and having wrapped herself in a towel, Charlie approached the two-way wardrobe that provided her with her daily clothing. Last night Mr Campbell had taken a great deal of pride in proclaiming that her newest outfit was his favourite yet. Charlie dreaded to think just what this praiseworthy outfit would look like.
The wardrobe divulged its contents to Charlie's eventual dismay. Her now trademark patent black Mary Janes sat on top of the rest of her clothes. The shoes had been polished overnight to a mirrored perfection. Beneath the shoes were neatly stacked a pair of white silk panties, a pair of spotlessly white opaque tights and four blue hair ribbons. The panties lacked the lace that had become almost mandatory on her underwear; however a large red love-heart had been laboriously embroidered on the front. Beneath this pile of accessories and undergarments sat a large white box.
Apprehensively Charlie picked up the entire pile and moved it to her bed. She moved everything off the box and opened it up, lifting out the new creation and spreading it out on the bed. She considered the shockingly embarrassing new dress as she put on the white panties and tights.
The bulk of the dress was made from lightly cross-thatched blue gingham. The billowing skirts revealed a six-inch peek-a-boo white lace hem, beneath which sat numerous netting skirts. To the bottom edge of the skirt had been invisibly stitched a white backgrounded edging depicting Winnie the Pooh, Tigger and Piglet romping about cheerfully. The blue skirt gathered in at the waist, two white cotton sashes joined at the back to produce a large white bow. The bodice, predominately made from the blue gingham, displayed the Winnie the Pooh motif just above the waistband, while horizontally running from edge to edge across the top of the bust ran a three-quarter-inch-wide length of lace. Extending from the waistband up and over each shoulder and down the back of the dress were two wide ruffles edged with the abundant white lace. At the front base of each of these ruffles sat a medium sized satin bow on each side. The collar was white, sewn in the Peter Pan style and again, along the edge of the delicate collar was fastened a fine edging of baby lace. The blue puffy elasticised sleeves each sported quaint white bows at the sides.
Now dressed in the white opaque tights, the love-heart covered panties and her Mary Janes, Charlotte struggled into this latest sample of Mr Campbell's contrived prepubescent fantasy. She struggled to tie the sashes into a bow; ordinarily she wouldn't have worried getting it right, however today she was determined to avoid any additional correction from any of the servants. Clad in the disgusting creation of rustling skirts, bows and ruffles Charlie dragged herself in front of her mirror and began brushing her hair. Ten minutes with the comb and hairbrush produced two perfect pigtails, about which the blue ribbons were tied at the ends and base.
Unsure of exactly how much time remained before her lessons commenced, she sat down at her desk in the antique white chair and wiled away the remaining minutes attempting to catch up on her readings in "Manners of a Lady". She had pored through only half the required readings for today when the maid entered the room indicating that it was time for school to start.
---
Mistress Heinz was indeed unhappy with Charlie's failure to cover all the required readings. The harsh tutor had given Charlie a black spot and had also forced the girl to hold out each of her hands face up while Mistress Heinz had brought the strap down upon each one in turn.
Charlie had been silently grateful that the tutor hadn't taken the strap to her bottom. Memories of Mr Campbell's promise to treat very harshly any future panty-soiling incidents had her dreading any strapping on her bottom. She was unsure whether she could prevent herself from staging a repeat performance of her last encounter with the strap.
Instead Mistress Heinz had grumpily led Charlie through the unread chapters relating to appropriate feminine behaviour at different social occasions. Charlie was struck not only by the sheer complexity of the social mores she was being expected to remember, but also by the seemingly nonsensical and frivolous expectations of a young woman. For example, it was totally unacceptable to allow a man to enter your home after dropping you off after an outing. However it was perfectly acceptable for him to call on you the next evening at the same time of night! So as long as he wasn't dropping you off, he could call on you at almost any hour!
Then there were different levels of acceptable interaction at varying types of functions. Acceptable behaviour differed greatly between galas, balls, concerts and garden parties. At one event a particular type of action was thoroughly acceptable and indeed expected, whilst the same act at a different function was completely shocking. The complex rules baffled Charlie, and had she not been determined to avoid corporal retaliation, she would have thrown her hands in the air with frustration and refused to read or repeat another word of this useless crap.
Lunch arrived with Bosker providing peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for Charlie. Just as she was about to pop a corner of one into her mouth, he cleared his throat to get her attention.
"Miss Charlotte, I need to check your panties." He signalled that she should stand for a moment.
Charlie gingerly rose to her feet asking: "Come-on, do we really have to do this? I promise you that there's nothing there. I've been very good this morning"
"I hope so Miss Charlotte, but nonetheless these were Mister Campbell's unequivocal orders when he left this morning."
She sighed and stood before Bosker. "Please lift up your skirts Miss Charlotte and part your legs, this will only take a moment."
Feeling thoroughly self-conscious, she gathered up her skirts and lifted them up over her waist. She felt Bosker's touch almost immediately as he pulled down the tops of her tights to reveal the love heart covered panties below. Deftly he placed his hand in Charlie's most secret place and checked her panties for any sign of transgression.
Satisfied that her panties were clean he pulled her tights back up and instructed her to drop her skirts. "Thankyou Miss Charlotte, but, I am afraid we will have to check on you again before dinner." A flustered Charlie rearranged her skirts and resumed her seat to eat her lunch.
---
The afternoon saw a return to Charlie's deportment coaching. The continuing exercises had much reduced the pronounced swagger that Charlie had sported on her arrival. Sauntering up and down the room in her swishing skirts; Mistress Heinz had expressed reluctant admiration for Charlie's progress on this front. She had only had to strap Charlie twice about the haunches for minor misdemeanours. The two separate blows had come without warning and the pain had subsided quickly, so no untoward feelings had had time to take root and betray her. She truly dreaded the prospect of failing this afternoon's panty test and being forced back into the dreadful punishment panties and bra. Once had been enough to teach her how diabolical those ingeniously designed implements of torment were.
By the end of the day Mistress Heinz was relatively happy with Charlie's performance and awarded her a gold star as a reward. As an afterthought she indicated that Charlotte could spend the rest of the afternoon with Madeline in the rumpus room before Mr Campbell returned home.
With haunting memories of her suffering on the rocking horse echoing through her head, Charlie was taken into the playroom by the maid. Afternoon tea had been set out on the little plastic table in the middle of the room. Charlie took the indicated seat and snacked on the cookies and milk that had been set out for her.
On finishing off the last of the cookie crumbs Charlie looked about the room wandering how to spend the next few hours until Mr Campbell called her to dinner. The maid looked up from her magazine: "Why don't you play with your dollies Charlotte?"
"I'd rather not. Isn't there something else to do? Don't you have another magazine I could borrow?"
"No these magazines aren't suitable for young ladies." The maid rose to her feet and picked up one of the many dolls adorning the room. This one was eighteen inches tall with blue eyes and dark brown hair. "Look at this one, it looks just like you!" The maid adopted a tone of false enthusiasm for the doll "Why don't you call it Cynthia and dress it up in pretty clothes?"
Charlie would have slapped the maid then and there had she not been tightly controlling her temper. Instead she grudgingly took the doll from the maid's hands. Charlotte looked at the stupid doll, wondering how far the maid was going to push this. "Charlotte – now you can't just leave little Cynthia naked."
The maid returned to her magazine as Charlotte sat in her little chair in the middle of the room. The maid looked up at the motionless Charlotte, she dropped the false enthusiasm of a few moments ago and spoke assertively: "Charlotte, dress Cynthia now!"
"Please Madeline, I've never - I mean, well… I don't know what to do, I've never had a doll before or even ever wanted one. I always went outside or played ball or stuff, I don't want to play with the doll and even if I did, I wouldn't know how. Can't I just fetch my book from my bedroom please?" Charlie blathered out.
The maid looked sternly at Charlotte and spoke slowly. "You may not have your book, but you will dress Cynthia now..."
"But…"
That had been one objection too many for the maid: she bounded out of her chair toward Charlie. When, much later, Mr Campbell reviewed this video footage being captured by a camera set in the ceiling similar to the one in Charlie's bedroom, he would satisfactorily note that as the maid approached, Charlotte cringed. The young girl he was moulding hadn't attempted to evade the maid, nor had she thrashed about as she had on previous occasions. He noted pleasingly that the pigtailed beauty had actually cowered before the looming maid.
The maid dragged Charlotte up from her petite plastic seat by the arm, spun her around and proceeded to spank her on the bottom a number of times. Charlotte squirmed as the maid's hand fell on her through the dress, tights and panties. Realising that this assault was relatively ineffectual through the numerous layers of Charlotte's clothes, the maid dragged her skirts up above her waist in order to deliver the final blows more directly. Charlotte could have broken away at this stage, as the maid had been forced to use both her hands to deliver the spanking. Yet she didn't - it hadn't even occurred to her. She stood there freely in the centre of the room, frightened, as the maid delivered a handful of jolting slaps to her bottom.
"Well, is Cynthia going to get some clothes on now?" The maid asked pointedly.
A reprimanded Charlotte replied: "I guess so."
Charlotte's skirts were released. She sat back down on her chair and fetched Cynthia from where she had fallen to the ground. She had been scared senseless that the spanking would arouse her, but as she sat back down she realised that she had averted disaster. She was fairly sure that she could pass her next panty check safely. With great reluctance and under the hawkish supervision of the maid, Charlotte took Cynthia to one of the little wardrobes. She randomly selected a little red dress to put on the doll when the maid offered advice: "Doesn't the poor little thing at least need some panties Charlotte?"
In a whispered response Charlotte uttered: "I suppose so."
She found a drawer in one of the miniature wardrobes that contained a collection of tiny panties and grabbed the first frilly pair on top. She pulled the little panties up the dolls legs where they sat there taunting her, reminding her that she too was wearing something very similar under her blue Pooh-Bear dress.
Once she had put Cynthia in a ruffled doll's dress, the maid demanded that she should have a tea party with her new friend. Fearing further spankings, Charlotte spent the remainder of the afternoon conducting a pretend tea party with Cynthia under the stern gaze of the maid.
---
The maid checked her watch and looked up from her magazine. Charlotte stood up in expectation of being released from this farcical scene, even if it was to go to another of her strange meals with Mr Campbell.
"Not quite yet, first I have to check your panties Miss Charlotte." The maid indicated that Charlotte should approach the adult sized table. Once there, the maid had her lean over the table, hold up her skirts with one hand and part her legs. She yielded to the maid's instructions, just as she had done with Bosker earlier.
The maid stood behind Charlotte and pulled her tights down to below her knees, effectively hobbling the young girl. That done, she thrust her hand into Charlotte's crotch. Once her hand was there, she didn't remove it immediately as Bosker had. Rather, finding that Charlotte's pants were dry, she began firmly rubbing Charlotte's clitoris and labia. Charlotte dropped her skirts in shock and tried to break away only to have the familiar jab of the Tazer convince her to cease her struggle.
The maid whispered in Charlotte's ear: "Don't even think about it sweetie, one move and you'll regret it."
"Stop that!" Charlotte screamed, "You can't do that, I'll tell Mr Campbell!" The maid's hand forcefully continued massaging Charlotte's pubic region. Involuntarily she felt heat and warmth begin to rise in her crotch.
"Try it – who do you think he'll believe Charlotte?
"As far as Mr Campbell is concerned I told you to play with your dolls and you refused. I had no choice but to spank you, and wasn't I upset to find that our little Charlotte had disgraced herself again." The maid imitated her own voice and the speech that she had prepared for Mr Campbell.
"I remember your mother Charlotte and I remember what she did to our Master. I'll not have you do the same thing to him over again – I'm going to see that you suffer bitch, just like your whore of a mother should have!" The venom in the maid's voice startled Charlotte, then she remembered the masochistic gleam in the maid's eyes as Charlotte had ridden the rocking horse, the evil wink as she'd ushered her into Mr Campbell's study last night for punishment. The maid wanted her to suffer for the mysterious sins of her mother. .
"But this isn't fair, I haven't done anything to you Madeline, please stop, this isn't fair." Charlotte appealed to the maid, but she felt that the damage had already been done. Down below she knew that her silk panties were soaked through and glistening with her reluctant fluids.
|
|
|