The Art of Petticoat Punishment

by Carole Jean

Part 38 - Facts & Fancies

Facts and Fancies
Correspondence and Stories

Facts and Fancies was assembled by hand with photos attached to some of the pages. It was published twice monthly on the 10th and the 21st in England (London?) from 1930 thru 1933, and was sold only by subscription. Its size was eventually 8x5 inches and the number of pages varied over its print run. The same publisher also printed some stories in the same format. F&F was contemporary with London Life but was enormously more extreme. It contained stories, letters, drawings and photographs on the general themes of cross dressing, extreme tight lacing, corporal punishment, boots, high heels and jewelry for both sexes

A February 1933 editorial mentions that there were two ‘Principals’ who published the magazine. I really don't have much besides speculations regarding the number of issues, the publisher, his location and the anonymous contributing authors with whom the publisher mentions his frustration.

I am of the opinion that the publisher was involved in the corset business in some way, perhaps as a shop owner or at least an enthusiast. Names that come up are "The House of 'Kayne'” which I believe was a corsetiere, “Madame Kayne” (Cayne) and "Mrs. Granger." The Long Island Staylace Association web page has some information about these two women.

I was fortunate to obtain several issues of the magazine and have obtained parts of a few others from my friend Peter Farrer who copied them at the Kinsey Institute. He also sent me the story “The Amazing Argentine Training” which he obtained from his friend David B. He has also attempted to obtain information regarding the publisher, without success. However, he too has speculated that Mrs. Kayne may have been involved.  

I would greatly appreciate any additional information and any source for additional copies of this magazine.

THE MAGAZINES

1931 June 10 – Peter Farrer from Kinsey – THE UNRULY BOY
This is part of a serialized story about ‘John” an unruly boy who is forced into corsets and feminine apparel. The text is below.

1931 July 10 - Peter Farrer from Kinsey – MRS. WILKENSON'S CHILDREN
CORRESPONDENCE - Ernest cannot forget that he is in girl's garb and when spoken to, blushes scarlet with shame. The text is below.

1931 September 10 - Peter Farrer from Kinsey – MRS. WILKENSON'S CHILDREN
CORRESPONDENCE – Ernest’s adventures continue. The text is below.

1931 October 10 - Peter Farrer from Kinsey – MRS. WILKENSON'S CHILDREN
CORRESPONDENCE – Ernest’s adventures continue. The text is below.

1931 October 21 - Peter Farrer from Kinsey – A LETTER FROM NEW SOUTH WALES, AUSTRALIA CORRESPONDENCE – A boy is corseted and dressed as his sisters. The text is below.

1931 November 21 - Peter Farrer from Kinsey
CORRESPONDENCE – Two letters regarding men dressing as women. The text is below.

1932 January? - The complete magazine
CORRESPONDENCE – Whipping a female pupil, tight lacing, and extreme high heels.
THE UNRULY BOY – Who is raised as a girl.
THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF ADRIAN CURLE (Miss High Heels).
There are 4 drawings and 5 photos. Available as download number 270.

1932 February 21 - The complete magazine
CORRESPONDENCE – Boys in corsets. Why men wear tight laced corsets.
THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF ADRIAN CURLE (Miss High Heels).
The shaming of MAUDE.
There are 5 drawings and 5 photos. Available as download number 271.

1932 March 10 - The complete magazine
CORRESPONDENCE – (Including ARGENTINE TRAINING).
THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF ADRIAN CURLE (Miss High Heels).
THE ARTICLE – Part 1 (Growing breasts on a boy).
THE UNRULY BOY
MAUDE
There are 4 drawings and 6 photos. Available as download number 272.

1932 April 10 - The complete magazine
CORRESPONDENCE – Male Breast development, Routine Whipping, Two girls beat a man. EDITORIAL - Keeping Corset wearing a secret?
M A U D E - Mr. Walton takes his Departure.
ARGENTINE TRAINING - the ornamentation of Miguel’s back.
THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF ADRIAN CURLE (Miss High Heels).
THE UNRULY BOY - “Georgette” tells his story.
There are 4 drawings and 3 photos. Available as download number 273.

1932 May 10 - The complete magazine
CORRESPONDENCE - methods of corseting, a boy in ladies long gloves, punishment without fault.
EDITORIAL – the “New Waist”
MAUDE - The prisoner has ample time for reflection
THE OLD FASHIONED LADY CARRIES ON
THE BOY – Is taken to the park for a walk
There are 5 drawings and 6 photos. Available as download number 274.

1932 July 21 - Peter Farrer from Kinsey – THE BOY
THE BOY – “you are going to be transformed into a sweet pretty docile girl.” The text is below.

1932 September 21 - The complete magazine
CORRESPONDENCE – Corsets, How to put bondage clothing on a difficult girl
EDITORIAL – Dangers of a poorly fitting corset
UNDIES – Harold revives laced in a corset – makeup and a dress to follow
MAUDE - Mr. Walton disgraced, Madame du Monier’s boots
THE BOY – is ‘Carrie’ a boy or a girl? The shop clerks wonder.
There are 2 drawings and 4 photos. Available as download number 275.

1932 October 10 - The complete magazine
CORRESPONDENCE – Corsets for boys, Ridicule as punishment, Gloves
THE BOY – The shopping trip continues & he strives to discover if he is really a boy or a girl
MAUDE  
There are 3 drawings and 3 photos. Available as download number 276.

1932 October 21 - The complete magazine
CORRESPONDANCE – Corsets, The ‘Levison Case’, A boy/girl, Replies to Mrs. Levison
THE BOY – The Books are discovered before Carrie can find if s/he is a boy or a girl.
UNDIES – He is dominated by a Girl who dresses him as a Girl and takes him out!
MAUDE – Mr. Walton is whipped
THE USE OF THE BLACK BOARD
There are 3 drawings and 5 photos. Available as download number 277.

1932 November 10 - The complete magazine
CORRESPONDENCE – Mrs. Henry Levison prepares to train her daughter, Corsets for men and boys
TREGUNTER – A sketch of the boy-girls in training
SKETCH - two betrothed children at foot drill
UNDIES – He is about to be forced to go out dressed as a girl
THE BOY – Measured for his new wardrobe and his ears are pierced – They know his secret!
There are 3 drawings and 5 photos. Available as download number 278.

1932 December 21 - The complete magazine (now expanded in length)
CORRESPONDENCE - Mrs. Henry Levinson’s daughter, Corset training, A daughter severely punished
THE BOY - Miss Carrie and Mary are severely punished
MAUDE – The girl is severely corseted and taken for a walk
EARNEST – Surprise whippings and silence training
WAIST CULTIVATION – Help for men who are occasional corset wearers
TREGUNTER SCHOOL – Report #1 (cont.) on a school of boy-girls
There are 6 drawings and 4 photos. Available as download number 279.

1933 January 10 - Peter Farrer from Kinsey – THE BOY
THE BOY – "Silence," she roared. "YOUR NAME IS CARRIE! YOU ARE A GIRL!" The text is below.

1933 February 21- The complete magazine (now expanded in length)
CORRESPONDENCE – Ball Gag for talkative children
THE BOY – Miss Trasker is now in charge of Carrie and the family goes out together
MAUDE - Mlle du Monier dominates Mr. Walton
TREGUNTER SCHOOL - Report No. 2, Some of the boy-girls rebel
A SMART YOUTH – A wasp waisted youth
There are 2 drawings and 5 photos. Available as download number 280.

1933 August 10 Peter Farrer from Kinsey – A HUMILIATING PUNISHMENT
A HUMILIATING PUNISHMENT . . . . Another little bit of "fact.” The text is below.

1933 September 10 The complete magazine (now expanded in length)
CORRESPONDENCE - Advice to "Misery" who is dressed in ladies clothes and thoroughly dominated.
MORE METHODS OF DEALING WITH DISOBEDIENT BOYS & GIRLS – Corsets, Petticoats and Dresses for both.
UNDIES - "Hattie’s” revenge. The end of "Undies".
HUMILIATION – Billie is dressed as a girl in preparation for a visit to his chums Ernie and Willie.
SPURRED! YE GODS! YES – A clumsy hunter is painfully spurred by his wife.
A NEW CORSET FOR WASPS – Illustration
GYNAECOCRACY – “Rule by females” – Severe and painful punishment.
There are 5 drawings. Available as download number 281.

STORIES

MADAME HAIDEE’S SELECT BOOTING ACADEMY. Scoffing Mary receives a terrible shock. . She is to be figure trained and made to wear extremely high heels against her will. (missing one page). 7126 words - Available as download number 282.

DISCIPLINE AT MRS JANET HILDEBRAND'S SELECT SEMINARY. Down came both birches on the culprit's tightly drawn posteriors. 20,596 words - Available as download number 283.

THE AMAZING ARGENTINE TRAINING By Miss Van Houten. Boys and girls receive extreme corset training and body manipulation until they cannot be told apart. 30,744 words - There are six drawings. Available as download number 284.

THE AMAZING ARGENTINE TRAINING. Supplementary material including “How I acquired and maintained a fourteen inch waist.” “Tiny Waists” and “Six cases of tight lacing.” 16,805 words and 12 photos - Available as download number 285.

THE HONOURABLE FREDDY TOMLINSON - Female Impersonation of a most daring and Amazing Type. 22,733 words - There are two photographs of ‘Freddy’ as a woman. Available as download number 286.

THE MAJOR – He is a secret cross dresser but is discovered by two of his young maids. They blackmail him into becoming their ‘Maude’. 18,309 words - Available as download number 287.

TREGUNTER GRAMMAR SCHOOL – Boys at this school are figure trained in tight corsets and then dressed as girls. Some of them rebel, but are unsuccessful. There are four photographs. 14,469 words - Available as download number 288.

PETER FARRER’S SELECTIONS FROM THE KINSEY ARCHIVE COPIES OF F&F
These are illustrative examples of the text you will find in the downloads.
However, the downloads are complete magazines and include art and photographs.

THE UNRULY BOY
June 10th, 1931

At the end of a week John's wounds had healed and he had given no further trouble. He had now apparently become quite docile and gave no trouble whatever allowing himself to be laced into his long corsets again with his high legged boots and long kid gloves. He quite began to take to Alec, who in his turn brought all the gentle influence he could to bear on the rebellious John. For two months matters progressed in this fashion and John now began to present quite a smart appearance, was good and obedient, and no longer protested against his corset and feminine attire. In fact so good had he become that Mrs. Hilldew decided it was time she invited his Mother to pay him a visit.

Accordingly some few days later his Mother came to pay him a visit. She was simply amazed at the difference in her disreputable son and was loud in her praise of his altered manners and appearance. John was smartly dressed in a short white muslin frock with frilly petticoats and knickers showing, his high-heeled boots and long white kid gloves. His hair was neatly curled and waved and his well nipped in waist was tightly enfolded with a wide blue sash tied tightly with a large bow at the back. Mrs. Hilldew made him wait upon his Mother when they took tea and John comported himself in an excellent manner. During tea Mrs. Hilldew and his Mother chatted away in an animated manner and his Mother, during the conversation, mentioned how smart Alec looked. She particularly admired his long gold earrings and treble pierced ears

MRS. WILKENSON'S CHILDREN
July 10th, 1931
Madame:

In my last letter I promised to report progress in my training.
My two charges for the past two weeks have been very tractable, they have evidently not forgotten the severe punishment I administered to them and I am convinced that it has had a most salutary effect.
Ann, also, has not forgotten the humiliation of being punished in front of them and now obeys me implicitly, further than that she has come to realize that I mean what I say and after being thoroughly humiliated in front of the two children she now naturally takes good care to watch them very closely and reports the slightest fault to me.

I expect it is too early to boast, but I think I have now gotten the upper hand with both of them. The most difficult problem I have to solve at the present time is the terrible self-consciousness on the part of Ernest. Mrs. Wilkinson now likes to take them out either visiting or shopping with her in the afternoons or for a car drive, and very often for a walk.

Both children are dressed exactly alike, Ernest's hair is growing nicely and I am able to make it look quite respectable. I have both their figures well under control and make it a practice to keep them well laced up both day and night. Both are also now wearing knee high kid button boots with a 2 ¾ inch Louis heel and a pointed toe. I have all their lingerie the same, and the petticoats, knickers, and chemises are well laced, beribboned and befrilled.

But Ernest cannot yet forget that he is in girl's garb and when spoken to, blushes scarlet with shame. Some of Mrs. Wilkenson's friends are, of course, in on the secret and address him as a boy and with these he is far worse than with strangers who of course take him for a girl and address him as such.
It is at times rather amusing to see him when Mrs. Wilkenson takes them out shopping and they take tea in a Public Tea Room in a large store. Naturally their high button boots attract attention and immediately anyone's eyes fall upon the two children Ernest of course immediately imagines that all the looks, remarks and smiles are meant for him. He will go crimson in the face and tremble, and sometimes burst into tears and hide his face in his gloved hands.

I have not as yet punished him for this extreme self-consciousness but am trying reasoning with him, pointing out to him what a wicked naughty boy he has been in the past and that I am determined to make him an obedient boy. I tell him definitely that he has nothing to be ashamed of in his clothes and that he looks very pretty, which he undoubtedly does, and will do so more when his waist is more slender and his hair well grown.

When brought home from one of these excursions he will sob with shame and strange to say, the only person who can comfort him is Miss Maude. He has taken a great liking to her.
However, the trainings are progressing very nicely.

MADAME H

September 10th, 1931

Dear Madame:

I have read Mrs. Laura M's letter with much interest, but very much regret to inform her that the method she suggests of dealing with Ernest's self-consciousness has already been tried on several occasions, unfortunately without much success.

We have been in the habit of having for the past five weeks small select children's parties, at which my two children have done the entertaining, and have been left entirely to themselves except for a maid to wait upon them.

By the aid of carefully contrived mirrors and a partly opened door, Madame H. and myself have been able to watch every gesture and movement, and also hear the conversations without the children being aware of it.

With regard to the dressing of the children, it has been their usual afternoon dress, i.e., tight fitting bodice, short wired skirt, high bronze button boots with high heels, and white arm length kid gloves. No makeup has been used except a lip stick.

Their companions have been well to do children, all smartly dressed, some of them in garb similar to my own children.

None of these children know that Ernest is a boy, only their parents being in on the secret. As a matter of fact, one of the children who generally attends these parties is a boy, and it is particularly riling to me to see that he does not show the least sign of self-consciousness and is perfectly natural in spite of the fact that his waist is two inches smaller than that of Ernest, and he invariably wears boots with higher heels and considerably tighter than my boy.

But at each of those parties it is always the same. Ernest blushes, fidgets, gets confused when spoken to, and if a child puts his or her arm around Ernest's waist he is terribly confused and endeavors to hide at the other end of the room.

If taken in the company of adults he is much worse and will frequently burst into tears, even when in a Public Tea-room.

He has been severely punished for this both with a whale-bone hairbrush (hair side), cane, and birch. Both in front of others and in private. He has been placed in the corner, and sent to the punishment room for a day with a diet of bread and water. Up to this time of writing there is no improvement.
They both sleep in the same room but of course have twin beds and Ernest wears a tight strap all night as well as during the day.

He is getting quite fond of Maude and is quite natural when in her company and is beginning to quite like his corset.

Any misdemeanor in the schoolroom, either fault or badly said or learned lessons is punished with the cane in the following manner. The culprit fetches the cane to Madame H.

He is then made to bend over a high stool; his clothes are pinned up leaving a tight petticoat over his posterior. The strokes, which vary in number according to the offense, are given methodically and slowly and counted. Then the clothing is rearranged and the child returned to his place. The punishment is carried out in the presence of the other child always.

No struggles now ensue, the corset seems to be taking great control over both children, but it is this awful self-consciousness I want to master.

Mrs. Henry Wilkenson.
 
October 10th, 1931
Madame,

I have read Mrs. Laura M's letter in the last number of Facts and Fancies with interest. She will be pleased to learn that I think I have solved the problem of Ernest's shyness. Or perhaps I am taking too much credit for it. I should say with Madame H's help I have solved it.

The whole trouble has been because he was so afraid everybody knew he was a boy and were laughing at him. I have got over this now to a great extent in the following manner.

I called a meeting of all my intimate friends and quite candidly told them the position with regard to Ernest. I then arranged for a children's party at which all these friends were to be present. I dressed both children for this party in an extremely smart manner. Madame put them into new corsets, lacing their waists in to the very tightest she could get them. They were newly booted in very high dull kid button boots with extra high heels, and very long white kid gloves. Their hair was curled and waved and finished with huge bows. Maude had on a very pretty pale blue tight fitting dress with all her frillies showing below the skirt.

Ernest I dealt with differently. I put him into an Elizabethan costume with velvet slashed trunk hose, a tight fitting doublet and huge starched lace collar. The idea acted . . . HE SUDDENLY DISCOVERED THAT HE WAS A BOY IN EVERYONE'S EYES AGAIN, and he was satisfied.

My friends, who had been given their cue, one and all admired him greatly, saying what a delightfully smart boy he was, and how nice his slim waist and high heeled boots looked. Ernest was quite flattered and strutted about like a Peacock. All shyness had gone.

Now when he goes in public I have decide he shall be dressed in this fashion or else in velvet knickers and tight fitting tunic, and I think all will be well.

For school wear he will still have to wear his girls' clothes.

Now, with regard to Mrs. M's question. I have made a mistake. Neither my boy nor Maude wears knickers. They wear the very finest silk tights, and plenty of frilly petticoats. I never use knickers at all.

Both children are caned at the very slightest misdemeanor or should I say it is left to Madame's discretion as to whether it is a cane or the whalebone hairbrush. We now have no trouble to get them to submit. In fact they are seldom tied, and are always made to fetch the instrument of punishment and when the punishment is over, to return it from whence it came.

May I say in conclusion that I am a firm believer in the efficacy of the corset, and I think that the sooner all Mother's realize its wonderful influence over an unruly child the better. I have proved it is not in the slightest injurious to their health if it is properly made and applied.

Yours very truly,

Mrs. Henry Wilkenson.

OTHER CORRESPONDENCE

October 21st, 1931.
A LETTER FROM NEW SOUTH WALES, AUSTRALIA

Dear Madame,

I am one of a family of three, two girls and myself, my sisters being aged respectively twelve and ten when I was about eight years old. At this time our parents died leaving us well provided for. An Aunt, a younger sister of my Mothers, immediately took charge of us. This Aunt was a very fashionable lady, was single, and did not like boys. I was fortunately a very quiet disposition being much petted by my two sisters and inclined to be effeminate, often having been dressed by them in some of their clothes.

Our Aunt had a wonderful figure, her waist measured fifteen inches over her dress, it being nearly four inches deep at the waistline, and then sloping gracefully and gradually toward her high bust and under her arms, this was the result of being very tightly laced when she was quite small.

Her system of figure training she immediately commenced on my two sisters, they had already been well corseted and tightly laced by my Mother and had eighteen inch waists. Both were very pretty girls and inclined to be slender, but my Aunt was not satisfied. They were taken to her corsetiere, measured and fitted with long heavily boned corsets of heavy satin, and also slept in tightly laced corsets and gloves. At that time I did not interest myself much as to how they were laced into their corsets, but I secretly envied them their beautiful figures and tiny waists. My experience came after they were sent to school a few months later. In the meantime my Aunt had made for me a lightly boned belt about six inches wide and slightly curved. This was always kept tightly laced night and day and would be about eighteen inches at the smallest part. I also constantly wore tightly buttoned ladies gloves and high heeled ladies shoes during the day. Gloves size five and shoes size three, I think. At night white leather foot corsets were tightly laced on my feet from below my calves to my toes and long heavy kid gloves were laced on so that my hands and feet were kept narrow and could not possibly spread.

My breasts, hips, thighs and calves were massaged by a French maid night and morning with a flesh developing preparation, and my breasts also several times during the day, each time for about half an hour.

The nipples were pinched and pulled out while the breasts were massaged. Later a kind of wide-mouthed breast pump was used, the suction pulling the breasts outward. When this came as desired, a wide rubber band was slipped down over the pump and fitted round the projecting breasts preventing them from going flat. This was after my real tight lacing was commenced. At the age of twelve I had very pretty breasts, larger than many girls of seventeen or over.

My sisters and I were taught ballet and other dancing and were made to walk on our toes. This I accomplished after being repeatedly whipped and strapped to a backboard. This was my Aunt's chief punishment. My sisters, having gone to school when I was nine years old, my figure training was commenced in earnest. Heavily boned corsets were made for me with an elongated sixteen inch waist. I was taken one morning to a room after having my bath. This room was partitioned off from my Aunt's dressing room where I had never before been allowed. The room was paneled with mirrors and contained a trapeze on a stand, the bar of which could be lowered or raised by a handle. I was dressed in fine silk girls combinations, my wrists were laced into wide padded soft leather cuffs. These were attached to the bar of the trapeze by rings; my ankles were laced into similar padded bands which were attached to the trapeze stand.

The bar was raised as far as possible, stretching my body rigid. I was given a smart tap on the back with a cane and if it was seen that I was not rigid, the bar was raised another inch or more until I was tightly extended. The corsets were then clasped on and partially laced and round my waist what was called a ceinture was adjusted, a short description of which I will give.

It consisted of a metal band about four inches wide, my Aunt had them as wide as six inches, hinged in front and well padded with soft leather inside. It was adjusted over the corset. At the top and bottom of the back opening were two projections having holes through which screws were passed, the points of the screws engaging the opposite holes. The screws had thumb pieces and when tightened pressed the sides of the corset in, compressing my sides and lower ribs and causing me to expand my upper ribs and chest. The corset laces were passed through the opening between the upper and lower screws and fastened to a roller on the wall of the cabinet and were tightened by this as they were pulled up down the back and then tied. At first the corsets were left open about an inch and I was left on the trapeze for a quarter of an hour. Then it was again raised, the ceinture tightened and the corsets were easily drawn together and the laces tied.

I was then released and dressed like my sisters, my hair which was very fair was also very curly, my dress was of silk or in the evening, satin with well boned bodices either laced or buttoned down the back. A much beflounced and belaced underskirt with a skirt trimmed to match the bodice, silk stockings supported by suspenders attached to my corsets, high laced boots very tight with very pointed toes and very tight kid gloves. The boots had heels of four inches curving well under the foot. For evening my bodices were made low necked and laced down the back, long white kid gloves up to my shoulders and kept tight on the arms by a hook fastened to an eye under the short sleeves of my dress. I was also carefully made up for the evening having been lightly powdered and rouged during the day. My eyebrows which had been plucked to a fine line were darkened my cheeks rouged and my lips painted. I also wore light colored kid shoes to match my dress; the heels of these were six inches high causing me to be poised almost on my toes.

When my sisters came home from school for their holidays they had developed wonderful figures with tiny waists, their training having been vigorously continued at school. My Aunt was then not satisfied with my waist measurement so I was further laced into fifteen inch corsets with comparative ease as my lower ribs were now curved inward and my waist without corsets was small.

Then I was placed on the trapeze and laced into a pair of thirteen inch corsets. These were of pink satin and beautifully shaped, being an exact replica of my Aunt's. They were put on in the morning and laced to fifteen inches, at two o'clock I was stretched on the trapeze and reduced to fourteen inches, and in the evening to the required thirteen inches. After this I was kept to this size, my night corsets being the same. There were also a pair of twelve inch corsets made for me which were used on very special occasions when my Aunt took me out for the evening. I remember going to a fancy dress ball as a Georgian Lady with a white wig and crinoline or hooped skirt. I was laced to twelve inches and the bodice of my dress, which was made of white kid, was damped with hot cloths and shrunk to my figure. It took them the whole afternoon to dress me and when completed I was told I looked like a Dresden china figure and could not be real on account of my tiny waist.

By the time I was twelve I matured and a penis strap was used to secure my penis under my legs. I thoroughly enjoyed being laced into my corsets, the sensation was superb and the rigorous use of the penis strap was very necessary. I also enjoyed the sensation of being dressed in beautiful clothes with tight kid gloves and high heeled shoes, and insisted on my corsets being kept laced. I also insisted on the smallest gloves possible and it usually took about half an hour to put on a new pair. My breasts had developed wonderfully but were always confined in the elastic bands at night and massaged night and morning. Very little hair grew on my face as I got older and what little there was was electrically removed. I was taught by a governess until I was fourteen when she was replaced by a tutor who came for three hours each day.

Strange to say, I never had an hour’s sickness. I was given a mild aperient about twice a week and when first laced into tight night corsets I was given a glass of wine with a small capsule in it which made me sleep soundly until morning. This was discontinued after a week as I became more used to the lacing. To prevent my undoing my corsets at night a wide leather belt was put over them and locked with a small padlock, smaller ones being used on my wrists and ankles.

I afterwards met a school friend of my sisters, also figure trained with a tiny fifteen inch waist. She had been married when only seventeen to an elderly man who died within twelve months leaving her all his money. She told me she could not love him. I afterwards proposed to her and she willingly accepted me as she told me later that she admired my figure and general feminine appearance.

Afterwards we were married we frequently traveled dressed as two ladies; she always insisted that we received better attention from Railway Officials and Hotel Servants. She also insisted I continue to tight lace and wear the best of silk under things and stockings.

I do not regret my figure training one bit as it brought me a lovely girl as a wife. I am unfortunately now a widower. We had two children, girls who are at present in France with my Aunt who is training them in the same way as I was trained.

COLONIAL SCOTCH WELL JIMPED

November 21, 1931.

Dear Madame:

Maybe your readers will be interested in the following tale which is true. One evening a few months ago my wife told me on my return home from the City, that there had been an attack upon a young woman by a man not far from our house on the outskirts of the suburb where the road joins the path through some young trees and scrubs, just a patch of them but enough to hide in for anyone bent on hiding. I was not alarmed but told her not to go near the place in the evenings unless I was with her. Not many days later the same story was told me and my wife suggested that I should do something about it. Weil, what could I do? I went to the place. I even stayed near there for some time and saw women pass and nothing untoward happened.

Then my wife had a bright idea. She suggested that I dress in some of her clothes and go there, either with or without her, and maybe the marauder would show himself and attack me thinking I was a woman and I could then catch him. I was not at all enthusiastic but in the end let my wife persuade me. The following evening she reminded me and I went with her to the bedroom where I stripped. She had already looked up some things which she thought I ought to wear. I saw stockings, stays, chemise, etc. and a dress. I protested that all this was not necessary. That as long as I had a dress of hers over my underclothing it would be enough but this she would not have as in a rough and tumble my manly clothing might be seen and the marauder might escape, whereas if he thought I was a woman he would continue the struggle until he overpowered me. I could not understand my wife's argument and could not see the reason for all this fuss but gave in and let her put one of her chemise on me. It was nice to feel the sheer silk caress my body but I did not tell her this. The stays were annoying; they had to be let out as far as possible leaving a wide gap of several inches at the back. They were tight and I felt all women were silly to tie themselves up like this but did not say so.

The knickers I nearly split, they were so tight that they fit me better than the proverbial glove. Except for the corsets I liked the feel of the underclothing, it was nice and soft, and rustling and was really lovely to feel on my body and I envied women that they could wear such delicious things. The shoes caused some bother for I felt as if on stilts. By cutting away part of the uppers at the sides I managed to get them on and after a few turns up and down the floor leaning on my wife's arm I fancied I could walk quite well.

As it was nearly dark we set off for the dangerous pathway. Leaning heavily on my wife I got along famously and felt quite proud of myself. We walked along the short street, then on the roadway for nearly half an hour, standing in the shadow of the bushes but nothing happened. My wife proposed she should walk along alone and I should be ready to join her. She did so, she walked up and down a stretch of road but everything was silent. I joined her and we walked up and down for some considerable time but in the end we gave up at my desire as I was beginning to be irked by the stays and the high heeled shoes.

Interrogated by my wife as to how I liked to be dressed as a woman I asserted that I did not like it, though I had to admit to be honest that I liked the rustling sound of the silk petticoat and skirt, but the trouble was the stays. She thought I would get used to them. I protested that I was not going to try and get used to them, but she maintained that because we had had no success in catching the marauder that evening we should try again some other evening.

At home she asked me to make tea immediately we arrived and in that way I was prevented from changing the clothing and after tea we sat reading and talking and as we were shortly going to bed I kept the female clothing on that evening which pleased my wife immensely. When we went to bed she talked about it and, with her soft white arms round my neck, got me to promise to have another try. For several evenings after that I had to dress in my wife’s clothes and she even got me some things that fit me better so that my appearance became more feminine than ever and I endeavored to walk and behave as a woman becoming at last so perfect in my wife's estimation that we dared take walks earlier in the afternoon.

I will admit, here and now, that I took a certain pleasure in donning these exquisite fripperies. I loved to feel the rustling of the silk about my body, to perceive the gentle touch of the light filmy silken underclothing against my skin in which my wife took such an interest, that I seemed to notice it getting softer, purer, and more pleasant to the touch. Creams and other strange lotions made their appearance on my dressing table and I took as much interest as my wife in these things. The corsets bothered me most for I soon became proficient in walking in the high heeled shoes and could even balance and propel myself along in heels of five inches which, by the way, seemed to give me a more feminine walk. As the days passed I began to notice that the stays supported my body as I felt more sure of myself and more exhilarated as the stays were tightened and gripped me better. Worries were of less consequence and my whole outlook on life became more cheerful and altered totally.

One glorious evening we saw the troublesome man on the pathway and I went forward alone. He came to me, spoke to me, suggested nasty things, and as I was silent, he gripped me by the arm. That was the last of him. I landed him a beauty in the solar plexus. He doubled up but soon came at me again and a rough and tumble took place. My clothing became torn, my frock was torn off my shoulder, my skirt split, I lost one shoe and my stocking came down. My wig, which happily was gummed along the temples, stayed on but the hair was all over the place. When I had given him one on the point of the jaw he was out. I saw my wife in the center of a small crowd of people, one of whom admiringly exclaimed, "my, but you are a strong girl."

Our village policeman took the fellow with him and my worst ordeal came when I had to appear against him. What was I to do? Should I go and publicly confess that I had dressed as a woman to enable me to catch him, or should I turn up, as my wife wished, as a young girl. We thought and argued about it for several hours and took what we thought was the best course.

I gave myself out as a friend of my wife's who was staying with her and it came off alright. Had I gone to court as a man and told them that I had donned the female attire for the purpose of catching the molester I should never have been able to go out in my feminine fripperies and I had come to love to dress in girl's clothes. Now when I arrive home from the office I quickly bathe and don my light and airy silken clothing in which I spend the rest of the day. My wife, who loves to see me dressed like this, takes me out. We go to the theatres and cinemas and even to parties of friends and relatives.

We have much fun and I am very happy.

Yours faithfully,

EDWARD TILLINGS.

Dear Madame:

For several months now I have been an eager subscriber to your excellent publication, where the special correspondence has interested me greatly.

I hope many more of your readers will be persuaded to send you their opinions, impressions, and especially experiences for publication so that we all will be able to enjoy the interesting information. It is through the experiences of oneself and others that one learns.

I am enclosing a few photographs which you may use. I am sorry I cannot send you the negatives but should not think it difficult to make negatives of these photographs if necessary. Photos explain better than many written words, and other readers might be persuaded to send you photos too.

Some time ago, my sister and I surprised our younger brother in our bedroom walking backwards and forwards in front of a large mirror dressed in long silk stockings, high heeled patent leather shoes and my best evening dress. Later we discovered he also had a pair of corsets and some of our silken underclothing as well.

He was very ashamed and unhappy when we caught him and blushed prettily as he stammered an explanation about always having been possessed of an unaccountable desire to try and see how it felt to walk about in high heeled shoes, laced tightly in corsets, and dressed in silk with a shiny silk evening dress rustling and crackling as he walked to and fro enjoying the feel of the silk and especially the sound of it as he moved about. It took us not time at all to see that our discovery gave us a hold on the young gentleman, and as we found it funny to see him dressed in girl’s clothing we made up our minds to have some fun with him.

After that time, hardly an evening passed that we did not compel him to don ladies clothing and weekends he spent dressed as a girl all the time.

Partly under threat of telling friends and relatives about his weakness and partly because the young scamp enjoyed it, we had no trouble at all in inducing him to appear as a nice young girl. After a week or so we decided to take him out with us but when he found that he was going out in public dressed in feminine clothing, silk skirts and all, he protested vigorously and became so troublesome that he soon had "two physical jerks girls" an top of him.

We tied his hands behind him (he was already dressed in his girls clothing) and with a cape over his shoulders we took him out to a cinema. It was very humiliating for the young gentleman who felt very helpless in our hands, to walk out in public in the early afternoon dressed in rustling silk skirts, tightly laced, beautifully shod in high heeled shoes and though his hands were tied, the cape about his shoulders gave him uncomfortable shivers as he thought it might slip off. Though his whole appearance was properly feminine with a ladies wig, fashionable hat, etc., he was constantly afraid that friends or relatives might be met and might recognize him.

With only a few interruptions this corset and skirt discipline has been going on for some months and my sister and I have been talking about the possibility of making him dress always in ladies attire. We have no doubt he will protest against such a scheme but a visit to a cinema or restaurant in the daylight dressed conspicuously in silken clothing, high heeled shoes, and tightly laced, and with his hands tied together or even with a pair of handcuffs, will soon make him compliant. As an additional punishment we could take him out without his wig or without his hat and with his tied or handcuffed hands more or less visible. Our difficulty is, what will people say, for of course in time it will be impossible to avoid friends and relatives discovering that he has to go about in feminine dress. And also, it is about time that we got some clothes which ft and suit him better as our ability as dressmakers is not ample enough to make the dresses ourselves and our dresses don't fit him as well as desired.

Is it possible to take him to a shop and make him try on various dresses, shoes, petticoats and corsets? Would it not cause too much attention, or is it so very uncommon for young men to be brought up and educated as girls? I have read and heard a lot about severe mothers and aunties who are adherents in what I will call "Skirt Discipline" but have difficulty in believing that these stories have much truth in them.

I am sure that among your many readers there are some who are more conversant with these things than I am and I would be very thankful if you will print this letter and also those which you might receive on this subject from other readers so that I could get some information upon which I could act both in regard to the method of training my brother and to clothing which I might have to procure.

Yours truly, KATHRINE WALL.

Editor: The House of ‘Kayne’ will give you all the information you require if you get in touch with them and will supply and fit your boy with anything you may require. They deal with such cases every day.

Editor, FACTS AND FANCIES.

THE BOY
1932 July 21

The Boy - you are going to be transformed into a sweet pretty docile girl

When Charlie King reached his Mother's boudoir, and she had closed the door behind them, he suddenly turned on her and exclaimed vehemently:

"Mother. Mother. For Heaven’s sake take this corset off me at once, it is stifling me. I cannot bear it. Oh, Mother. MOTHER DO TAKE IT OFF!"

His Mother looked at him in amazement, as after what Harriet had said she did not expect to have any further trouble with the boy.

"But Charlie dear, what is the matter with it? It improves your figure wonderfully. Come look in the glass. See what a beautiful curves it gives you although of course the waist is as yet far from small."

"I don't want to see myself in the glass, Mother. I hate it! I LOATHE IT! I AM A BOY. I AM NOT A GIRL. WHY SHOULD I BE COMPELLED TO WEAR GIRL'S CLOTHES? I . . . I . . . I WON'T! I WON'T!"

"OH YES YOU WILL. BE QUIET AT ONCE AND SEE WHAT YOUR MOTHER HAS TO SHOW YOU AND TO FIT ON YOU." It was Harriet who spoke, she having entered the room quite unknown to Charlie or his Mother. There she stood just inside the door with her hands resting on her hips, the very picture of Authority, with a look on her face which plainly said: DISOBEY ME IF YOU DARE. Charlie gave another hasty glance at her and shuddered. Harriet walked across the room and put her strong arms round his waist and pressed it.

"See Mrs. King," she said. "This corset is not half tight enough. His sides are giving quite easily to the pressure of my hands He is complaining quite needlessly. What he needs is a good whipping.

"Yes, I think you are right Harriet but, you see his Father has forbidden any violent chastisement as he thinks it will coarsen him. Mr. King considers that the stay-lace properly applied will do everything that is necessary to make Charlie into a willing and pretty girl."

"Yes, and I quite agree with him . . . IF . . . THE CORSET IS TIGHT ENOUGH!"

"But Harriet, he has fainted twice under the lacing. Surely the corset is as tight as he can stand."

"RUBBISH, MADAME. The truth is Charlie has worked himself up into such a temper because he has been laced up in a long corset again. He has fainted from sheer rage and temper. That is all."

"NO! NO! NO! MOTHER! THIS CORSET IS CUTTING ME ALL TO PIECES. OH, DO . . . DO . . . PLEASE TAKE IT OFF."

"Come here my son," said Mrs. King quietly. “Sit down on that chair and listen to what I have to say, It is quite useless for you to rebel against your corsets and your fancy lingerie. Your father and I have thoroughly made up our minds that you are going to be transformed into a sweet pretty docile girl with a beautiful wasp waist. Nothing that you say or do will alter our ideas, and if you continue to resist kind methods, in spite of your Father's wishes to the contrary, severe methods will have to be adopted and at once. Now look me in the face and choose. Quickly . . . Which is it to be? Are you going to obey Marriet and myself? Or . . . do you wish to be severely whipped."

"No . . . No . . . No . . . Mother. I am a boy. I WANT TO BE A BOY. I AM A BOY. I DON'T WANT TO BE A GIRL. I will willingly wear corsets if you wish but . . .," and the child turned and pointed with a shudder to the dainty lingerie on the bed. "I . . . I . . . I can't bear the thought of wearing these girlish things. NO. NO. NO. Let me wear a tight Eton suit and stays. But all these fancy frills . . . NO . . . NO!"

"Don't say such foolish things, Charlie. Come look at this Beautiful lace trimmed petticoat," and as she spoke she took up from the settee a marvellous confection in pale lavender silk. As she held it high in her shapely hand it rustled and gleamed in the sunlight. It was indeed a thing of beauty. Exquisitely made of pale lavender silk taffeta, it was quilted and flounced in a marvellous manner, and simply smothered with frills of the very finest fancy lace into which was interwoven row after row of old gold ribbon. Further, it had been sprayed with an exotic perfume which emanated from it in waves as Mrs. King moved it to show it off to the best advantage.

But all her efforts were in vain. This exquisite article of clothing, a masterpiece of the expert’s art seemed to leave the boy cold.

He buried his face in his hands. "MOTHER. MOTHER. TAKE IT AWAY. THAT IS FOR A PRETTY GIRL, NOT FOR AN UGLY BOY."

"Preposterous, child," ejaculated the irate Harriet. "If you take my advice Madame, you will give him a good sound thrashing at once and then lace him into a more severe corset. That will quickly bring him to his senses."

"Be quiet Harriet and leave him to me. Listen Charlie, you just said these pretty frillies were only fit for a pretty girl. Well, we are going to make you into a pretty girl. There is no need for you to think any more of an ugly boy. I quite agree with you, you have, for a number of years been a very ugly and ungainly boy. Now you are going to be one no longer. You are going to be turned into a sweetly pretty girl."

"But . . . but . . . Mother . . . . How can you turn me into a girl when I'm a boy?"

"You must leave that to us, Charlie dear," said his Mother quietly drawing her child toward her at the same time holding the wonderful petticoat in her other hand so that the boy could get the full fragrance of the wonderful perfume. She had scored a point . . . and she knew it, therefore she quickly decided to follow up her advantage.

She placed her arm round Charlie, and turning to Harriet said, "You can leave the room Harriet. I will send for you when I want you. Leave Charlie to me, I want to talk to him. I will ring when I want you.”

Harriet, with a sniff and a snort very reluctantly left the room. She had not wished to go but under the circumstances could see no reasonable excuse for stopping.

Mrs. King was a clever calculating woman, she had already perceived that something, she knew not what, had already influenced the boy. Could it be the extravagantly laced, befrilled and sweetly scented lingerie which was put neatly about the room in conspicuous positions? She had an idea that such was the case but of one thing she was quite sure. THE BOY WAS INCLINED TO WAIVER. She could see that he was afraid of Harriet. Of this she was really glad, but she thought that she could, if she used great tact, slowly mould the boy to her ideas.

For a few seconds she dallied as if undecided as to the best course to adopt. Then she suddenly made up her mind. Was the boy really sure that he was a boy. She would try it. If she could get him in an uncertain mood about it she could quickly follow up the advantage gained and gradually convince him with the aid of all these pretty things that he was not a boy at all.

"Charlie, come and sit on my knee. I want to talk to you," and she caressed his soft curly hair with her exquisite hands. The boy immediately gave way and sat down on his Mother's knees. She held his face up to hers and kissed him fondly, continuing all the while to smooth his hair with her beringed hands.

"You said just now, my dear, that you were a boy. Come, tell me. How do you know that you are a boy?"

The question came as a bombshell to the boy . . . "MOTHER". That was all he could exclaim . . . then after thinking for a few seconds he said, "I have been brought up as a boy. I have always worn boy’s clothes, and have been sent to a boy’s school. I AM A BOY. OH MOTHER, I AM A BOY!"

"You are a silly child, my dear. That is all. Because we have seen fit, for reasons of our own, to treat you as a boy up to this age it does not follow that you are a boy at all. You of course think you are a boy, but now, Charlie, all that is finished. You are going to be just a very, very sweet girl and wear all the pretty things Mother has got for you. Come kiss me and say you will be good. See, look my dear. Look at this gorgeous lavender and old gold slip . . . and oh, are not these sweet lavender knickers perfectly beautiful? Feel the marvelous material, my dear. See this wonderful lace, and all these lovely old gold ribbons. Look at these petticoats. See how wonderfully stiff and starchy they are. See how the rustle when you walk. Look at these gossamer silk stockings. Then, you have not yet seen this beautifully scented and perfumed bust bodice. All to make my dear sweet child look more and more exquisite. And that is not all. Come with me, my dear."

She put him gently off her knees and took him, placing her hand round his corseted waist, into a little anteroom. This tiny room was simply smothered in the most exquisite underclothing it was possible to imagine. Silks, satins, taffetas. Wonderfully delicately coloured garments smothered in the most expensive lace and ribbons, and all beautifully made and saturated in the most delicate perfumes.
The boy gazed at this all in a most bewildered manner. Then he broke from his Mother and began to finger some of the delicate pieces. Mrs. King watched him intently. Was her little scheme going to work? Had she really put doubts in his mind? She left him alone, merely seating herself and let him touch and finger the various garments as he wished. Suddenly the boy turned to her.

"MOTHER . . . MOTHER! TELL ME AT ONCE. AM I A BOY OR A GIRL? THESE THINGS ARE SIMPLY LOVELY  BUT THEY ARE FOR A GIRL TO WEAR. OH, PLEASE TELL ME. I HAVE ALWAYS THOUGHT THAT I WAS A BOY. AM I A BOY OR A GIRL, MOTHER!"

And Charlie came across to his Mother, took both her hands in his own and looked imploringly into her face, "TELL ME, MOTHER!"

(To be continued.)

THE BOY
1933 January 10


"I don't feel the slightest anxiety with regard to Harriet for I intend her to train Mary's figure and take only a very minor part in Carrie's training. Miss Dever who is coming in a day or two will have complete charge of Carrie and she knows the truth."

"That is excellent, but I can only repeat my warning. Watch Harriet! I do not like her; further, I have another suggestion about his tiny waist . . . . I agree . . . . But . . . . Would it not be much more humiliating for him to be lifted about by a very smart (not tightly laced, but waist defined figure) tightly uniformed Page Boy? Say two years older than himself. The Page need not know the truth, but Carrie can be given the impression he does. That, in my opinion would be much more humiliating to Carrie and would make him much more fascinating."

"A wonderful idea," exclaimed Mrs. King. "Thank you, Mrs. Jones; such an idea never entered my head. I will most certainly act upon it."

…………………………………

We will now leave the two ladies chatting and see what has happened to Carrie and Mary.

Mary had been sent to her room and locked in, and there she lay on the bed sobbing her heart out. She had been humiliated and disgraced in a way that she would remember for years, and now she was to be tightly corseted.

Should she stay . . . She had promised to, and she had always admired Carrie's beautiful tiny waist . . . . Well, she had a chance of possessing one herself . . . . It meant terrible torture . . . that she knew . . . but her "Boy" was always on about the "wasp waists" of years ago. He was reliable and had a good position. He would adore a tiny waist. YES! She would see it through. She would make a tiny waist for him. But the terrible humiliation of that whipping . . . in front of all the staff. How could she face them again? Impossible. They would always be laughing at her. Poking fun at her. No. NO. NO! SHE COULD NOT BEAR IT! SHE WOULD RUN AWAY! She cried and cried her eyes out and finally fell fast asleep from sheer exhaustion.

Carrie was taken back to his dressing room trembling like a leaf from head to foot. He was still in a terrible perspiration and shaking nervously. His steel belt cut him terribly and the glace kid punishment costume was terribly uncomfortable. Harriet accompanied him to his dressing room and the "Boy" dreaded what was to happen next.

"Harriet! HARRIET!!" he gasped. "Please take off this terrible costume. I cannot stand it any longer. The steel belt is cutting me all to pieces and the upper part of my ribs is all a throb. I miss the support of my long corset, both on my ribs and upper part of my hips."

"Yes, I expect you do, Miss Carrie. But . . . YOU SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT OF THAT BEFORE YOU WERE SO NAUGHTY. Little GIRLS like yourself must be taught not to pry into books that do not concern them....and they must be taught not to tempt others to get things for them that are forbidden."

At these words the "boy" burst into a flood of tears.

"Why, oh why, Harriet, do you keep on calling me a girl when you know perfectly well I am a . . ." But he got no further. Harriet brought the cane down with a swish across his shoulders.

"Silence," she roared. "YOUR NAME IS CARRIE! YOU ARE A GIRL!"

He was about to mutter something in reply when she cut him short. "Be silent, Carrie," she said in a threatening manner. "Your punishment is not yet over. Stand perfectly still. I am going to unlace your kid costume and tighten still more the steel belt, then I am going to replace the costume and take you down to the Servant's Hall . . . .  There you will remain for an hour so that all the servants can see you in this terrible costume. That is to be your final lesson, although if I had my way you would be whipped soundly all day, you perverse little monkey."

She said no more, but proceeded to unlace the glace kid tunic, taking not the slightest notice of the whimperings of the boy. Having unlaced the tunic, she proceeded to tighten the screws of the belt until the boy yelled in agony. She screwed and screwed until she had got another inch off his waist and then once more she laced up the tight kid tunic. She took off the mask, wiped and powdered his face and promptly refixed the tight kid mask . . . .     Then, with a sharp tap on his boot studs, which caused him to prance round the room, she said, "Come on. I am taking you to the Servant's Hall."

"No! No! I will not go! It is too degrading."

"Very well. I will whip you with the birch," and she went across the room to fetch that article. One sharp cut across his posterior was enough and Carrie shrieked that he would go with her.

"Ah, I thought you would soon come to your senses, my Girl. Now then, quickly. Downstairs," and she pressed his pricker studs three times in quick succession and Carrie, clad from head to foot in black kid, with a black kid tight-fitting cap with a high plume, his face covered with a kid mask, pranced out of the dressing room and down into the Servant's Hall where a maid was just preparing a meal for the whole staff. She looked at Carrie in amazement and nearly dropped the dishes she was carrying.

"Oh, Harriet. What has Miss Carrie done now, and why is she still in that hideous costume?"

"Nothing more, Ann. She has to stop here for an hour or so for all the staff to see her in her punishment costume. Madame thinks it will be a lesson to her."

"OH! OH! HARRIET! I don’t want to stop. Do take me away.”

"Be quiet Carrie and get on that high stool instantly.”

Carrie mounted the stool which was a screw one and Harriet immediately worked the screw until it reached its full height and Carrie was raised nearly two feet off the floor. Then she secured his ankles with a gold chain to bracelets, and then padlocked the chain. His gloved hands had never been unpadlocked and Mrs. King still held the keys.

"Now. There you stand Carrie until I chose to let you down. Don't you dare to move an inch or I will whip you at once."

So Carrie stood on the high stool in his terrible punishment costume while all the staff had their meal and passed what comments on him and all the criticisms they wished.

"I think she was punished quite enough," remarked one smart maid. "I do not think it was necessary to bring her down here."

"That shows what you know about it," replied Harriet with a leer. "Carrie has got to be taught OBEDIENCE. Also that she is never to tempt a maid in her duties."

"BUT, SHE DID!"

"Ah well, she won't again," answered the Butler.

Then came a shower of criticisms on Carrie's figure, but all agreed it was marvellous. One girl said her tiny waist was simply a dream, and asked Harriet if it was to be made smaller.

"Of course," answered. Harriet. "It will be reduced to the very utmost limit."

"Why she will snap in two very soon," remarked the fat cook. "I cannot see that it will do her any good."

"Of course you can't, you great fat thing," snorted Harriet. "A pair of good stiff stays would do you a world of good."

And so they went on and poor Carrie had to stand perfectly still and listen to all their remarks. Oh how he hated it. At last the meal was finished and Harriet informed him that the ordeal was over. She helped him off the stool and took him back to his dressing room. Here the punishment costume was removed, also the cutting steel belt and Carrie was once more laced down firmly with the aid of the capstan into his long stiff corset. Once more he was booted in thigh boots, gloved and dressed and sent to the drawing room to await the arrival of his new tailored costume. It was to be finally fitted that afternoon.

Mrs. King attended the fitting and with one or two minor alterations, all was pronounced satisfactory and the costume was sent home the next morning all finished.

That morning as he took a walk in the grounds with his mother he learned that Miss Trasker . . . the girl who KNEW . . . would arrive at lunch time to stop for good and to take over his training and education. He gave a start when his mother told him.

"Oh, No, No, No, Mother. Please do send her away. I will be good and do all you tell me to . . . but . . . I cannot bear the thought of her coming. I DON'T WANT HER! SHE KNOWS!"

"Of course she knows . . . and that is the very reason I am having her, Carrie. She is going to be very strict with you and you have to obey her implicitly. I am giving her "Carte Blanche" and she is going to make the sweetest, tiny waisted girl of you possible. Say no more about it Carrie and beg no more for her not to come. It is all settled and the fact that it is settled is all your own fault. Had you not made such a fuss and resistance to my desires it would not have been necessary to have her. She will take you out and get you used to people generally. Your shyness of your tiny waist will soon disappear.”

"But Mother, these awful chains on my wrists. Why have I got to wear them? Everybody looks at them."

Mrs. King laughed. "I know they do my sweet child, and that is just what I want them to do."

"But I am sure people are laughing at me, Mother."

"That is just where you make a big mistake, Carrie," answered his mother slyly. "They are not laughing at you. They are admiring you. It is you yourself. You just imagine silly things. That is all. At any rate you can dispel at once from your mind any idea that your bracelets will be taken off. Quite the contrary. When you have been to Paris for your operations they will be added to. Now . . . that is enough. It is time we returned to the house as you must have a rest before lunch. After lunch you will sit in the drawing room whilst I have a chat with Miss Trasker, and when I have finished with her she will take you over."

"Is Harriet going to have any more to do with me, Mother?”

This question surprised Mrs. King and for a moment she hesitated to reply. She knew Carrie was very much afraid of Harriet and she wished him to remain so.

"Harriet will always be at Miss Trasker's disposal, Carrie, and if she is wanted Miss Trasker will immediately send for her. Harriet is going to take Mary in hand."

"Oh."

……………………………….

Miss Trasker arrived, and after lunch Carrie sat in the drawing room in terrible suspense for over an hour. He could hardly sit still. This girl who knew . . . what would she do with him? Would she domineer over him? Would she be constantly reminding him that he was a . . .? No, he simply dared not say the words. Harriet's dread words kept ringing in his ears. Then would come the thought of his visit to Paris         . . . his mother spoke of operations. What were they going to do to him? Oh, it was all too much. A tear welled in his smartly touched up eyes and he raised his gloved hand to brush it away but the jingle of chains and tiny gold padlock made him quickly put his hand down in his lap with a shudder. Then his thoughts returned to Miss Trasker. He remembered the look in her eyes when she had fitted the strap. It was a look of triumph. Would she be unkind to him? Would she whip him like Harriet had done? Then he thought of Harriet. His mother had said that she was to look after Mary and would be called to him only when necessary. He reflected. If he satisfied Miss Trasker he would be well rid of the dreaded Harriet and so the tormented Carrie made a resolve. He would do his very best to please Miss Trasker and then . . . he reasoned. She will have no need to call Harriet whom I hate.

He was still engrossed in his thoughts when suddenly the door opened and a very smart girl entered the room. He recognized her at once although she was dressed quite differently. It was Miss Trasker.

She was now dressed in a tight fitting mauve dress of velvet material. She had a long, lithe figure, the waist only very slightly defined but the costume fitting her like a glove. She had on the very finest mauve silk stockings, cobwebby, and clinging to her legs so tightly that not a wrinkle could be seen. Her feet were not small but her shoes were the very last thing in elegance. They were patent leather pumps, fitting her like a glove, with needle pointed toes and the slenderest of heels six inches high. She was gloved in short, very tight, white kid gloves. These were most elaborately stitched in mauve with very wide stitching and the points and six buttons were also mauve. Her face was artistically made up and her eyebrows were plucked and trained to the now fashionable "swallow" shape. She had a very firm mouth, the lips accentuated with lipstick looked rather cruel, but her eyes sparkled and it was evident she was not without a sense of humor. She was tall and her high heels made her appear much taller than she was.

She walked slowly to the centre of the room and stood in front of Carrie who sat trembling in his chair. She had arrived . . . this young girl who knew. Carrie shook and trembled like a leaf under her gaze. She stood perfectly still, not taking her large lustrous eyes off him. For five minutes she stared at him, and Carrie's eyes dropped and he shivered in his seat. At last she spoke:

"Miss Carrie," she said in a low musical voice, "you do not seem very pleased to see me and neither are you very polite in the presence of your elders. You should rise and bow to me."

"I beg your pardon Miss Trasker," Carrie replied nervously, "but I cannot rise. I am chained to my chair."

"Oh yes, Carrie. I quite forgot. I shall make the chain longer so that you can rise and bow properly."

"My corset is too stiff to permit me to bend Miss Trasker."

"Nonsense. It is not stiff enough. It is because you have not been properly trained to bow from the waist when tightly laced. However we shall soon alter that, Carrie. A few weeks training and you will be able to bow nicely."

With these words she walked across the room and rang the bell. Harriet appeared, and Carrie trembled.

"Harriet." The voice was quite different to the one in which she had addressed Carrie. "Unfasten Miss Carrie's chains."

"Madame does not permit Miss Carrie to be unfastened without her permission."

Harriet had answered the girl in a very insolent manner and the young lady was not slow to show that she resented this piece of insolence.

"Very well, Harriet," she answered coldly. "Fetch Madame."

"Madame is taking a nap and does not wish to be disturbed."

"Very well. Unfasten Miss Carrie at once. I WILL TAKE THE RESPONSIBLLITY."

"Indeed I shall do nothing of the kind without Madame's permission."

"Very well Harriet, I will go and obtain it."

Miss Trasker whisked out of the room and shortly afterwards returned accompanied by Mrs. King who was evidently in a towering rage at being disturbed.

"WHAT IS ALL THIS TROUBLE, HARRIET?"

"Miss Trasker has ordered me to unchain Miss Carrie, Madame, and I have refused without your permission."

"I thought I made myself perfectly clear last night Harriet when I told you about Miss Trasker. Unfasten Miss Carrie at once and hand all your keys over to Miss Trasker and let me hear no more of this nonsense," and Mrs. King stamped her high heeled shoe in her rage.

Harriet blanched, gritted her teeth, and with an evil look obeyed, nearly throwing the keys at Miss Trasker. She then bounced out of the room.

"I am sorry to disturb you, Madame, but what was I to do? She point blank refused to do my bidding and was quite insolent. Pray what ails the woman? She can have nothing against me."

"Only that you have taken her place Miss Trasker," said Mrs. King with a smile. "However I do not think you will have any more trouble with her. I will speak to her again when I get up. You are quite ready to carry on now, I suppose."

"Certainly, Madame, and I will see you are not disturbed again."

So once more Carrie was left alone with Miss Trasker but at least he was freed.

"Stand up Carrie," It was the same musical voice which spoke and not the harsh tones directed at Harriet. Carrie obeyed.

"Walk round the room, dear."

"Oh, NO. NO. Carrie. That won't do. You can walk much better than that, child."

Carrie tried again but Miss Trasker shook her head. She motioned Carrie. "Sit down," she said. "I want to examine your boots

"Ah, I see what is wrong. Your prickers are not screwed up.”

"I am always permitted to have my prickers unscrewed when I am resting in the afternoon," replied Carrie in nearly a whisper.

"Oh that will never do. We shall alter all that, my dear. Your prickers must always be screwed up tight, even when you are sitting down and your feet, even when resting, must be placed firmly on the floor. You must never rest on your heels. The tiny sole of the boot must be hard down always. Mind, I want you to remember that.” And without another word she screwed the prickers right up and stamped both his feet on the floor.

"There, that is better. Now rise and walk around the room."

Immediately he was put on his feet she pressed his pricker studs and Carrie was soon prancing round the room in fine style.

"That is excellent. You are now walking properly, although your action still leaves room for improvement. Stand still. I want to go over you."

She felt his body, pressed his gloves with her hands and finally made her way to his strap by lifting up his short skirt and petticoats.

"NO. Please. PLEASE! Miss Trasker."

"Be silent, Miss Carrie. Don't be so stupid. I am not going to hurt you."

"Hm, that strap is most unsatisfactory. We will remedy that tomorrow. Come to your dressing room and put on a hat, veil and fur. We are going to take a walk in the grounds."

"I never wear a veil in the afternoon."

"Then you are going to now, Carrie."

And for nearly an hour Miss Trasker walked Carrie round and round until his feet and ankles ached and throbbed and his feet were scalding with the action of the prickers. When they returned to the house she said to him:

"Carrie, that is a great improvement. You are now walking much better. It is only practice you want. Tomorrow I will give you a long foot drill in tighter boots and an extra pricker. Practice makes perfect you know, Miss Carrie."

And Carrie got it. All the next day she kept him at it with short rests and got his feet into just the state of soreness she wished to get them into, and now Carrie walked as if he was treading on air. That afternoon Miss Trasker said, "Carrie, I have ordered the carriage at 3:30. We are going out to do some shopping and I am going to put you into your new tailor made costume. Your corset is nearly laced to and I shall make it meet now and reboot you."

"Oh Miss Trasker. I would much rather practice indoors before going out in that costume."

"Nonsense. Don't be silly. Hurry child, or you will not be dressed.”

Seeing protests would be unavailing, Carrie submitted with a sigh. She first laced the long stiff corset to meet from top to bottom, then took off his button boots and replaced them with blue glace kid lace ones with eight inch heels. These boots were extremely tight, had five prickers and two studs. One in the calf and one in the thick part of the thigh. They were waisted in the thighs to receive a fancy wide garter. When Miss Trasker had them laced to her satisfaction, she tied the long ends of the laces in wide bows which hung down some four inches. Then she buckled on the fancy garters very tightly and screwed up all the prickers. Carrie gave a cry. The prickers were much longer and hurt terribly. Then came the shaming part. Miss Trasker undid his strap, adjusted him to her satisfaction and strapped him up so tight that he shrieked and got a cuff for his trouble. Then a set of tiny, filmy lace petticoats about eight inches long, and the tiny skirt with its row of six buttons in front. This skirt and the petticoats just covered the strap and that was all. It left the tops of his boots just visible and when he moved just showed the short suspenders which kept his corset down on to his boots. Then she unfastened the two bottom buttons of the tiny skirt.

"Oh, do them up, Miss Trasker," wailed Carrie.

"Certainly not, Carrie. I may want to adjust your strap and I can do it quicker with the buttons undone."

Then came the wonderful blue coat which fitted like a glove and did not show a single wrinkle, tight across the laced up bust which heaved and dropped and looked as though it would burst through its blue cloth prison any minute. The coat buttoned with large gold buttons to the waist and then flared out slightly so as to show the tiny skirt, frillies and the top of the boots.

The Miss Trasker fitted the neck with a tight, very high gold jewelled collar which had four tiny rings around it. She then placed a wrap over Carrie and touched up his face. She was annoyed at his eyebrows. "They don't suit me at all, Carrie. I shall alter them tomorrow."

Then she fiddled with a curl or two placing the hair just so to suit her. Next she fitted him with shoulder length white kid gloves with blue points. The short sleeves of the coat had tiny gold rings all around the edges and the tops of the gloves, when fitted, were laced to them by means of gold laces. Then Miss Trasker took up a short ebony stick and tapped Carrie under the chin with it.

"UP. UP. HIGHER. HIGHER. Get your head up, Carrie." And she kept on tapping until Carrie's head was raised to a straining point. Then she took hold of the gold head chain which she had adjusted to his hair while fiddling with his curls and fastened it to the four gold buttons on the lapels of his tight coat and Carrie's head was raised high in the air and he could not move it.

Next she put on his tiny gold and blue hat and arranged his curls to suit her. "Raise your hands, Carrie. So. There the right one there and the left one so. Good . . . . The right one a little higher dear, so . . . . Don't move."

Snap. A bracelet around each wrist, very tight, the two connected with a chain and padlock which she promptly locked. Then she attached the other piece of chain to the ring in his gold collar and padlocked that. Carrie’s arms were now held in the position she had poised them in and she declared him ready.

"Look at yourself in the glass, my dear. See how beautiful you look."

Carrie tripped gingerly to the glass, his long prickers stinging him in terrible fashion as he went. He gave a cry of surprise for it was a wonderful figure that greeted him in the mirror.

"Ah, you like yourself, my dear. Splendid."

Carrie then had to wait for Miss Trasker but she did not take long. She dressed herself in a complete black modern tailor made with a black hat, white kid gloves, and black patent lace shoes with spike heels.

Then they went to the carriage which awaited them at the door. No, no smart car. But a carriage and pair. A wonderful pair of very tightly reined horses and a smart coachman and footman. The footman arranged the rugs, closed the door, took his orders and off the equipage drove.

After half an hour’s drive they drove into the shopping centre and the carriage pulled up outside a large store on the edge of a wide boulevard. The pavement was thronged with people, all busy shopping or idling. The carriage stopped, the footman jumped down and opened the door. Miss Trasker handed him an ebony stick and nodded.

"Carrie," she said. "Your mother has ordered some new earrings at that large jewellers right there. You are to go in and have the distance from your piercings to your shoulders measured so that they can be altered to fit you nicely."

Carrie faltered, looked at the crowd of people and then turned to Miss Trasker with a piteous look on his face.

"You are coming with me?"

"No, certainly not, Carrie. I am going to wait for you in the carriage."

"OH, MISS TRASKER. MISS TRASKER. I CANNOT WALK IN THE STREET ALONE."

Miss Trasker looked hard at Carrie . . . a real unpleasant look which brought back memories of her interview with Harriet when that worthy refused to unfasten Carrie's chain. Then she spoke: It was not in the usual dulcet tones she was wont to address him in . . . . It was the same hard, harsh voice in which she had addressed Harriet.

"Carrie! Rise at once. Permit the footman to assist you out of the carriage and go to the jewelers shop to be measured for your earrings. You are not going alone. The footman is going to follow you and wait upon you. Quickly! No more arguments. I WILL HAVE NO SCENES!"

That was enough. Carrie was frightened at the prospect of being watched by the crowds, but he was still more frightened at the threatening tone of Miss Trasker. Without another word he permitted the footman to remove the rug, grasp him by his stem waist and so assist him to alight.

The carriage with its smart pair of tightly bearing-reined horses had been quite enough to attract the crowd’s attention, but when Carrie stepped forth to the pavement a gasp and a murmur went round and everyone stared spellbound. Remarks began to fly and Carrie's head began to whirl round. He heard the stamp of a high heeled shoe and the words:

"Don't stand there all day, Carrie. Do your shopping."

He gave a start. The footman with the ebony stick had pressed his calf studs hard and Carrie, with a little cry, pranced across the pavement in full sight of all the curious onlookers, followed at a distance of a few yards by the immaculate footman. Twice before he reached the door of the jewelers shop did the foot­man close up and press his studs. Carrie's walk was marvellous to see. Then the footman sprang in front and opened the jewelry shop door and Carrie once more breathed freely. He was in the shop and away from the crowd's curious gaze. The jeweler was expecting the "young lady" and took "her" into a back fitting room where she was soon measured for the earrings and also some new bracelets and chains whit Mrs. King had ordered.

"Thank you very much, Miss King. That will do nicely."

It was the jeweler who spoke, and Carrie quickly realized that he was being bowed out into the shop and would have to face the ordeal of getting back through the crowd to the carriage. The footman opened the door of the shop and then quickly pressed the calf and thigh studs as hard as he could. Carrie jumped and so arched his already curved back still more, raised his toes and fairly pranced across the pavement.

Most of the curious ones had waited to see this wonderful figure return to its carriage and Carrie's thrice pierced and bejeweled ears burned as heard the many remarks:

"Extraordinary!" "Ye Gods, what a figure!" "What a waist." "She will break in two." "Look how she holds her hands." Why, they are chained." "Look, a chain at the back to make her hold her head high."

And so the fire of remarks went on until Carrie had pranced to the shelter of the carriage, was assisted in by his waist, and once more tucked up in the rug. The carriage door was quietly shut, the footman resumed his seat to the orders of home         A crank of the whip and the horses plunged forward and they were soon whirled away from THE SCENE OF CARRIE'S HUMILIATION!

Miss Trasker never uttered a word the whole way home but she never took her eyes off the boy's face. His bust was heaving in its tight prison of blue cloth, his ears burning, and his lips compressed. Once or twice he made an effort to speak but catching her eye he again subsided into silence.

She took a powder puff and powdered his burning face and ears and adjusted his heaving bosom with her gloved hand. She was tempted to stop the carriage and make him take another small walk. He looked such a wonderful sight. Agitated beyond measure, strained in all ways to an almost breaking point, head held high, arms held in a fascinating position from which he could not move them, the high laced bust heaving and swelling, the agitated and alarmed look on his face . . . all made her simply itch to stop the carriage and place him through a further ordeal. Her gloved hand wandered to the tiny push which communicated with the coachman's box . . . and then she withdrew it. No, it would not do. That was enough for one day. She would be taking him shopping again in a few days and she would keep him out all the afternoon. She looked at him again. His agitation had not abated in the least and she feasted her eyes on him the whole way home.

When he got indoors he broke down and burst into tears. He had never yet been humiliated in such a fashion. But he knew not what was to follow. It was a good thing he was ignorant. Miss Trasker had him undressed and put to bed for an hour to get him composed while she went to Mrs. King to describe all that had happened.

Mrs. King was delighted with her report. “Wonderful! Delicious!” she exclaimed. “I shall let you take him out for a few days, Miss Trasker, and then I will accompany you with him."

The next morning Miss Trasker read Carrie a severe lecture and told him his self-consciousness was terrible and she was determined he should master it.

“Why, my dear, anyone would think you were not properly clothed, the fuss you made."

'But my tiny skirt, Miss Trasker. I . . . I . . ."

"Pooh! Your next costume which is being made is quite an innovation. Beside it, that skirt is quite modest. “

That hint was quite enough. Carrie subsided with a sigh.

“Now Carrie. You have got to be trained every morning after what happened yesterday afternoon. Come, let us go to the Servant's Hall. I am going to give you the first of a series of morning discipline."

Carrie followed without a word, and he noticed that Miss Trasker was carrying his brocaded satin dressing gown. He wondered what was in store for him now. He was soon to see.

In the Servant's Hall he saw a large mahogany case with sliding glass front panel. Miss Trasker went to this, pressed a button and the panel dropped out of sight. She quickly stripped Carrie down to his corsets, boots and gloves and before he could utter a word of protest, hustled him into the case, positioned his feet and secured them. Then she raised his fettered arms and secured them in the desired position.

Finished to her satisfaction, she stood back and examined him. Then she spoke, raising a warning finger as she did so, “You are not to utter a single word, Carrie. I am going to attach your corset to a slowly working capstan which is attached behind the cabinet, and I think . . . Yes, you will be liable to droop without a good high collar.” She then put on him a very tight high patent leather collar. “There!'

She unfastened the knot to his corset lace, took the laces through the holes for the purpose in the back of the cabinet and attached them to the tiny capstan concealed in the back of the cabinet.

“There! Now you are ready. Your corset is still open about an inch and I am hoping that the steady pull of the capstan will make it meet in an hour. I can then tie the lace through the holes in the back of the cabinet put there for the purpose.”

“Oh, Miss Trasker!”

“Now . . .,” and the warning finger went up again. "I am going to close the glass front of the cabinet and leave you. I have told the servants to give a good look at you as they pass to and fro and to make what remarks about you they see fit. It will do you good. I have told them that you are not to move or speak and that if you do they are to fetch Harriet to you at once."

“No. No. I don't want Harriet to come,” exclaimed Carrie in terror.

“Very well, behave yourself and keep perfectly still and she won't come.”

With these words Miss Trasker pressed another button and the glass front slid into place. Carrie was left exposed to the full view of everybody in a glass case with only breathing holes in the sides and top, wearing only his boots, corsets and gloves, with the inexorable capstan constantly nagging at the laces to get that last inch off his waist. An hour of it for sure . . . perhaps more . . . . Oh, horrors . . . and all the staff could come and gaze at him . . . and if he moved or spoke . . . HARRIET.

So this was his punishment for arguing about walking across the pavement to the jewelers. When he thought of what was in front of him he trembled. He knew he was to be taken to Paris for operations . . . very shortly. WHAT WERE THEY GOING TO DO TO HIM?

(To be continued)

A HUMILIATING PUNISHMENT

August 10th, 1933

A HUMILIATING PUNISHMENT . . . . Another little bit of "fact"


I went to my sister’s bedroom in my white baby socks.

"Bah! You are a tiresome boy, Henry," she exclaimed impatiently. "Sit down and pull those socks off."

I obeyed silently. "Take your trousers off," she snapped. "Quickly!"

I did so, and she took out a pair of very fine silk stockings which she quickly fitted to my feet, saying angrily as she did so, "Henry, you dirty little beast. When you have your bath in the morning see to it that you pare and clean your toenails properly. They are simply disgusting. If I get time I will manicure them properly for you."

Soon she had the stockings on and then taking a pair of her very fancy tight garters she drew them up over the stockings and buckled them as tight as she could get them.

"Now put your trousers on, quickly."

"Oh, Jill. Please don't make me go out in Baby shoes."

"You are going to wear those Baby shoes until I see fit to let you take them off, young man. I am going to either cure you or make you worse. Understand? It is either kill or cure."

She saw me fasten my trousers and then said, "Sit down in that chair. I am going to put your shoes on.

I obeyed knowing it was quite useless to complain for all the time the threat of my father knowing was over my head.

She fetched a box from her wardrobe and from it extracted a pair of shoes. My heart sank. It would have been the greatest delight to me to have had these shoes on in my bedroom and paraded in front of the glass in them . . . but it was quite different for a sensitive boy like me to be taken out for a drive in them, and then paraded into the shops and possibly taken to a Tea Room for everybody to see.

She held one of the shoes poised in her hand and said mockingly, "Do you like them, my dear? They will look very neat with your Eaton suit."

"Oh, Jill."

The shoes she held in her hand were of very fine patent leather. They were, as a matter of fact, patent laced oxfords. They had an extremely pointed toe and high curving Louis heels three and a half inches high, these were finished with brass tips.

"Put up your foot."

"Oh, Jill." Please. Please. Not in the streets."

"Yes. In the streets. Always until you are cured."

"But Father will know, Jill."

"Very likely. That does not trouble me in the least."

Seeing she was determined I reluctantly held out my foot and she quickly drew on the shoe, forcing it home with a shoe horn. It was very tight and the toe pinched terribly. I flinched.

"The other foot. Quickly!"

"Oh, this shoe does pinch, Jill," I wailed.

"If it pinches, Henry, that is entirely your own fault. It is because you are lazy and will not look after your feet properly. I never saw anybody's nails in such a disgusting condition. Come on, give me the other foot quickly. That is Mother calling. We shall be late."

"Oh, Jill. I don't . . .”

"If you don't give me your foot at once, Henry, I will box your ears soundly."

“I . . .”

SLAP!! "Now come on, quickly, and no more nonsense. I never heard such a fuss about having a pair of shoes put on. Suppose I made all that fuss."

"Oh but these shoes would just suit you, Jill."

"Indeed, they are much too large for me. Besides, they will just suit you, Henry. Think how you admired yourself when you pranced about in front of my glass with my shoes on. Now you are not only going to have the chance of admiring yourself wearing high heels, but everybody who sees you is going to have the chance of either admiring you . . . OR LAUGHING AT YOU! Come on at once. No more arguments or nonsense."

Seeing it was quite useless I thrust out my other foot and she soon had the shoe on and tied both laces in tight bows. I then had to get up and walk round the room while she watched me. I must say I felt very strange in the high heels but I managed fairly well

"Ah, Master Henry. I thought so. You are in fairly good fettle. It is evident to me that you have had lots of practice in my shoes. We must get you some shoes with higher heels. Brace your trousers up higher. You are not showing off enough of your ankles to my liking. Oh, for goodness sake, don't fiddle. Come here, I will do it for you."

"JILL! ARE YOU COMING OR NOT?"

"It is Henry, Mother. I shall be down in a minute."

"Give him a good slap. I can't wait all night."

Jill gave an angry gesture and quickly braced my trousers up as high as she could get them.

"There! Now come on."

Downstairs we went to be greeted impatiently by Mother.

"Henry, you ought to know better. Giving us all this trouble . . . ." She glanced at my feet as she spoke.

"Yes Jill, they look very smart."

"Oh I made a mistake Mother. I have just discovered he has had lots of practice in my shoes and he is quite comfortable in these. They want to be tighter and the heels still higher. He walks far too easily and manly in them. I shall get another pair tomorrow."

"Yes dear, certainly. That is, if Dad agrees."

"Of course he will agree."

"But Mother. Jill. You promised if I obeyed you that you would not tell Dad. Now you say you are going to. Oh, you are unkind." And I began to weep bitter tears.

"Stop crying at once Henry or I will lock you up until your Father comes home. Of course I am going to tell him, but you will not be whipped or even corrected by him. We are going to correct you in the way we think best. Now come, the carriage is waiting. Quickly!"

I tripped into the carriage in my high heels with a flaming scarlet face. I knew everybody was looking at me. The servants had seen me, and they had seen my eyes swollen with crying. They would be talking about it. But . . . that was all as nothing to me compared with the fact that "they" were going to tell my Father. The Sneaks. They had promised they would not. I was too young as yet to "know" women. The horrible dread of what he would say . . . the hiding he would give me . . . the number of times he would keep bring the matter up afterwards. What was to come from my Father . . . the dread of all this was far worse than going out in the shoes.

But I had an awful time. The shoes were not really tight, but my feet soon began to get hot and the new patent leather began to draw them and I found it was all very nice to wear a pair of high heeled shoes for a few minutes in the cool . . . but to have to keep them on for over an hour in the hot weather . . . well . . . it was not as nice as I thought. High heels thrust one on one's toes. In the shopping center we got out . . . and I had to walk about and look at the shops, Jill kept a firm hold on my hand. Oh, the remarks . . . the giggles and behind it all came my Father's sarcastic remarks which I knew would shortly ring in my ears.

We had tea out in a Store restaurant and Jill made me sit in a certain way and cross my legs so that everybody who passed could see my smart high heeled shoes and stockings. The Waitresses had quite a lot of fun out of it. I would see in agony the one who attended at our table whispering first to one of her companions and then another . . . and after each whisper the other girl would always stray with her tray in the direction of our table where she would pretend to be doing something at one of the vacant tables nearby. But she was there for the purpose of making an examination of my feet . . . and I knew it. When she had thoroughly satisfied her curiosity she would depart with a smile on her face. Then in a few minutes I would see her telling another one all about it nodding with her head in the direction of our table all the time she told her. In another few minutes that girl would come over to see my feet . . . and I am positive before we left that the whole staff had had a good look at me. Then they told the Manageress for she came over and asked my Mother if the tea was to her liking. She came to look at my shoes. I know she did. Mother commented to Jill that it was a most unusual thing for the Manageress to come and ask if the tea was alright.

But I knew what she had come for . . . and my eyes saw when we departed how the whole of the girls watched me walk to the door of the room . . . and how the girl at the desk who took the money had also been warned . . . for she was so excited about my feet that she gave Mother the wrong change.

Ah, I was thankful to get back in the carriage . . . but not so thankful when Mother said, "Home John." Home. That meant that in less than an hour I should be up before my Father. How I wished and wished again that I had been more careful and not let my sister catch me. However I was thankful to get home, for the shoes were giving me "beans". I should be allowed to take them off for they would never allow Dad to see me in them.

"Straight to my bedroom, Henry," ordered Jill. There as I expected she took off my high heeled shoes and stockings, but to my consternation, she told me to don my ordinary clothes and put on my baby shoes and socks again.

"But I can't let Dad see me in them, Jill. No. No. He will thrash me. And . . . Y . . . Y . . . You did promise you would not tell him . . . and now y . . . y . . . you . . . are going to." And I burst into tears. For this I got a good sound smacking from Mother. She whisked me off to my own bedroom, made me change my clothes and put on the vile baby shoes and socks . . . and then she locked me in the room.

"I am going to tell your Father all immediately he comes home, Henry. You will remain locked up until I come and let you out. You had better keep quiet for you know what your Dad is."

These were her words before she went out, slammed and locked the door. Then I had over an hour’s agony of suspense. I knew dinner time was very near and I wondered if they were going to leave me without dinner when I suddenly heard the key in the door and my Father entered the room carrying a cane in his hand. Mother and Jill accompanied him. I knew I was in for a terrible hiding and immediately made a rush for the small door leading into my tiny dressing room. But Mother ordered me to stop.

"Stop, Henry. Your Father wants to speak to you."

"You have told him and he is going to whip me. I know. You are both sneaking beasts. That’s just what you are. Both you and Jill. What did you promise me? If I obeyed you and had those beastly shoes on you would not tell him. Why did you lie to me? You meant to tell him all the time. You are always telling me not to lie . . . . Why you lie yourself . . . . So why should I not lie too."

"Henry. Be quiet and come here at once. I want to ask you a few questions." It was my Father who spoke, and he spoke in a most unpleasant voice. The voice I knew so well when I had done anything wrong. Yes, I WAS IN FOR IT.

(to be continued)

EDITORIALS FROM FACTS & FANCIES

1932 October 21

………………

With the exception of six foreign subscribers and two home subscribers, all have replied to our suggestion to enlarge the magazine.

There is only one subscriber who is not in favour of the idea.

Under the circumstances we have decided to increase the magazine in December. The for December 10th, will accordingly be increased in the following manner, NOT IN SIZE, OR TO MAKE IT CLEARER, DIMENSIONS, THE SIZE OF THE PAGE WILL STILL BE EIGHT INCHES BY FIVE INCHES.

The increase will be in the thickness. Longer installments of tales will be given. Articles will be more lengthy and go into more details. Correspondence will be increased. Sketches will be better and more numerous and some fairly good photographs will be available. We have been occupied in the past to cut out quite a number of articles and letters owing to space not permitting. This in future will be avoided.

We have held in abeyance some excellent Argentine matter, which will now be used.

Will all READERS therefore note that the subscription that the subscription for December issue will accordingly be increased to 10/- instead of 6/6.

Also will all subscribers note that they can make our task much easier by sending their Subscriptions by the 5th of the Month. We never do more than five copies over the number ordered. The result was that last month ten people were disappointed. The magazine does not pay to stock therefore we ask you one and all to pay your Subscriptions by the 5th of each month.

To those interested in discipline we can promise some good snaps in December.

We have enquiries about the Old Fashioned Lady Articles and the sketch “Undies”. Both were crowded out of the last issue but neither is yet finished.

February 21st 1933
 ..................................

During the whole three years of the life of this little private Magazine, we have never had cause to put our Readers off, and we think we are right in saying that an issue has never been more than one day late. In this case illness has compelled us to send out the two issues together. Part of the issue for the 10th was completed on the 8th inst, but then both Principals were taken with a very bad attack of influenza and completion was impossible.

We trust all our Readers will appreciate the fact that it is impossible to get a Publication of this sort out unless we are able to give it personal attention. We have now, thank goodness, quite recovered and hope we shall have no cause to keep any of you waiting in the future. I am sure you will all realize that we cannot help the delay. This influenza has been universal and we offer our congratulations to those of our Readers who have escaped it.

The Story "Maude" will conclude with the last issue in March and will be replaced by the New Story mentioned in the issue of January 21st.

The Boy will continue on his merry way and during February he will be taken to Paris and many exciting things will happen.

The articles on Tregunter School will become of absorbing interest in the March issues. There is a lot to be told of the happenings during the last six weeks at the School.

We have also received a set of articles which we have first authenticated on a Figure Training School for Girls in France. It is not in Paris but in the south of that country, Marseilles. The Editor took the trouble to make discreet enquiries into the source of the articles first and has found that they are perfectly authentic and that the School actually exists. Do not miss them. They are excellent and go to show that tight lacing is not dead amongst women, but is rapidly increasing

There is no doubt that the swing of the pendulum has come and History is once again repeating itself. We venture to prophesy that with five years women will be wearing small waists again and also that Men will have shaken off their drab clothes and will have brilliant suits to fit their figures. Corsets will then be necessary for both Sexes. The women in a quiet dominating way will do this. Wait and see if we are not correct.

 E D I T O R. F A C T S & F A N C I E S

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