Delilah said, “Is our little brother all right?” Her use of the word ‘brother’ instead of ‘sister’ signified her concern.
“Oh – Oh, yes, I am…fine. These stays…,” said Patty as if catching herself and coming out of a trance.
But it was clear to him, and perhaps to the girls, that her new clothing seemed to be transforming her inside as well. What is this?
Clearing his head, he said, “All right, sisters, let’s get this over with.”
“Yes, Patty,” said Martha. “We shall lace you in slowly.”
The taffeta petticoat felt marvelous! The rustling and the slippery feel were delightful. Patty was getting scared. I am NOT a girl!
Unbeknownst to Patty, her sisters had noticed his erection, and were hiding their glances from each, the younger very embarrassed, the older ones tolerant and kind.
Next came a polished cotton petticoat, in white. Floating down over her head, Patty was mesmerized. It became very difficult for her to maintain her composure. It appeared that the more layers of petticoat were applied, the more of an ethereal experience followed. But this time she quickly shook it off, coming to her senses, as if she said to herself STOP! I’m not going to let this happen!
But telling herself to ‘stop’, and feeling these strange feelings, were two different things…but she DID have to consciously maintain her masculinity to her sisters. So her sisters did not, in this case, realize her state.
Finally, a very light wool petticoat topped the other two, adding to the fullness, and thus, Patty’s euphoria. But her face was neutral.
“There!” said Francine. “All ready for your dress. But first, the lacing!”
Back to the dreaded lacing bar, where Patty knew her misery would begin. But the heaviness of her petticoats, and the pleasant rustling, keep her in a decent frame of mind.
