I.
Prisoner

 

am a young man in all the beauty of youth. I have a keen desire to submit myself to a kind and beautiful woman of possessive will, who will allow me to be her slave. I realize the danger of such a submission and so shun any such expression in all reality.

The year is 1929. My name is Gerald Graham. I am eighteen years old and about to enter Harvard, but immature in body and soul. I live with my parents and older sister in Manhattan. My mother is cruel and domineering, especially over my sister whose self-confidence she has slowly rooted out and destroyed. I myself have no sense of purpose and do not understand my own desires.

It is on a school ski trip that I meet my wonderful hostess, Miss Gladys von Gunthardt. As we sit in our compartment on the train, we speak of my dreams and youthful confusion. For the first time in my life someone has asked my opinion! When she later invites me to visit her for tea, I accept the invitation with joy.

I am received in a gorgeous mansion by a maid and conducted to a parlor where I am cordially greeted by my great hostess and invited to sit beside her on a couch between two shaded lamps. I am terribly impressed by the grandeur of this West Side mansion with marble front and iron fretworks and gate. The great parlor is hung with beautiful paintings in gold frames and the decor is opulent in the Edwardian manner. I feel out of my depth in this splendor and elegance.

We speak of many things and my hostess urges me to reveal my aspirations and philosophy. As we drink tea and eat delicious sandwiches, a wise old maidservant draws the curtains and lights the room. We also have a glass of rose wine.

After tea is removed, the lady draws me close to her and, in a motherly fashion, embraces me and comforts me, sympathizing with the dilemmas of my youth. Gradually I fall under the spell of her beautiful voice and touch, and find myself relaxing in her enveloping bosom as it rises and falls with her rhythmic breathing.

I awaken and am terrified to think that I have trespassed upon the hospitality of my lady by sleeping in her lap.

Overcome with remorse, I humbly beg her forgiveness. She tells me that she understands my predicament and urges me to stay.

"Don't be afraid, child," she says, "you may stay as long as you like. Sally will prepare dinner for us and we shall have a beautiful dinner together. But first let us change the relation between us and play that you are my dear child and I am your loving mother. Sally has a beautiful costume for you to wear and we shall play out our parts."

I am a little frightened but submit to the lady's sweet invitation, feeling a natural inclination to play.

The lady rings for the maid and instructs her to take me in hand and prepare me as her little son. She is to return me to her at 8 p.m. when we shall have dinner.
Sally bows and goes to the foyer, where she awaits me in compliance with the mistress' command.

She pats my cheek encouragingly and says: "Now go, child, and let Sally prepare you for our lovely evening together."

I rise obediently, drying my tears with my handkerchief and hasten to my fate.
Without a word, the maid proceeds up the carpeted stairs, indicating I should follow.

We enter a second-floor parlor. The maid instructs me to undress and opens the door to a bathroom where I am to bathe. She leaves the room, closing and locking the door The key sounds in the lock. I hang my jacket on the back of a chair, remove my shoes and socks, undo my necktie. Carefully, I drape my shirt and pants on the chair. I remove my underwear and enter the bathroom, where I take a delicious hot shower, anticipating with trembling the outcome of this great adventure.

I open the shower curtains and find before me the maid holding a great towel. Before I can utter my astonishment at being naked before a stranger, the woman proceeds to vigorously dry my trembling body.

She then removes a straight razor from the medicine cabinet and says: "I will now depilate your entire body. This will enhance your sensitivity to the textures of your clothing."

The blade of the razor is cool against my skin and I watch her with apprehension, hoping that she will not slip and cut me. But Sally is expert at her task, and before long I am as smooth and soft as an infant. She then applies cream to my body and face, which she also powders and perfumes.

Then without another word she seizes my hand in a grip of iron and leads me into the other room, where she dresses me in a silken bodice that starts at the crotch and straps over the shoulders. She corsets me in tightly from the back, handling my scrotum expertly so that my penis rises under the pressure of the silk. The strings at my back are tightened more and more as I draw in my breath and my waist contracts.

She feels and smooths the silk and my body. I am sheathed from crotch to neck.

I am set into a chair and nylon hose are drawn over my legs and up to my waist, like panty-hose. My feet are put into high-heeled slippers which are fastened at the ankle.

My head is then adorned with a wig, the same color as my natural hair, and is fitted closely to my skull.

My arms, held forward, are slipped into lace sleeves that tie at the back. Tight kid gloves are worked over my fingers and buttoned at the wrist and a ring is fitted over each little finger.

A delicate chiffon veil is drawn over my face and secured at the nape of my neck.

My Nurse Sally then pulls a riding crop from a cabinet.

She speaks.

"Little one, you will now learn to walk gracefully in your slippers until the feel of them becomes natural. Walk with your weight on the heel. Do you understand?"

I murmur assent and stagger toward the great full-length mirror, my hand in the maid's grip. When I stumble I feel the sting of the horsewhip. My appearance in the mirror echoes my feeling of imprisonment. As a final touch, I am allowed to see the effect through the veil while a tight necklace of pearls is bound at the neck.

Thus attired, I am left alone to practice my steps. Carefully balancing on my heels and feeling the effects of my new bondage, I walk painfully about the room. I look for the chair where I had put my male clothing. All are gone! I look about the room and nearly fall as I realize that the clothes are no longer available to me. I am a prisoner in this house and the formidable maid, who now re-enters the room, is my keeper. She makes this very apparent by stinging my buttocks with the whip in her hand.

"Now, child, you will descend alone and present yourself to your mistress." Thus speaks my captor, opening the doorway which leads to the hall.


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