Sehnsucht Ch 07 Horace

That night after retiring to my rooms I discovered something frightfully troubling. My former underclothes had gone missing. The big dilemma being that my menses had arrived and I had no undergarments appropriate for the occasion.

Clothilde was constantly busy in the kitchen but I always found her to be the most approachable of the lot. Therefore, I decided that she would be the best person to confide in. Luckily, I caught her in the kitchen hallway.

"Pardon me Clothilde, I have a predicament." She looked at me inquiringly. "It appears that some of my undergarments have disappeared."

Clothilde grabs my hand and pulls me towards the maids quarters. She turns to me and whispers appallingly loud "Shh! Follow me and don't make a noise."

She curiously has me follow her up the stairs and we creep down the hall. Upon approaching Horace's room, we hear some strange thumping noises. I am alarmed and want to run in the opposite direction. Clothilde reassures me with a knowing smirk and abruptly opens Horace's door and shouts, "Caught you villain!"

My eyes again feel like they are deceiving me. Horace is bound with rope to a chair and upon our entry his chair topples over and falls to the floor. He is trying to speak but his mouth is obstructed. Clothilde gently pulls the item out of his mouth which appears to be an article of clothing, "Are these what you are looking for, Felice?"

"Yes, they are!" I say quite distressed grabbing them from her.

Clothilde tends to Horace and I decide to assist her in up-righting his chair. Horace seems undaunted by his struggles, but his red face, unruly black hair, and his incorrigible smile project a very different picture.

"Horace, if she finds out about this, do you realize what kind of trouble you will be in?" shouts Clothilde.

"Yes I do and I'll love it all the same," he says shamelessly.

"Maybe Felice and I shall punish you instead? Would you like that little boy? My little brother boy? Are you ready for some petticoat punishment?" says Clothilde coquettishly.

She goes to his desk, grabs a pocket knife, and works her way toward Horace.

"I think you would make a fine pretty little maid, don't you think so Felice?" she says looking at me.

"Clothilde, maybe we should untie him?" I say nervously.

"Untie him? Why he's the rope expert. He's the one that got himself into this mess. Let's watch him untie himself," she says without an ounce of compassion, still toying with the knife.

"Stay here Felice. I'll be back at once," says Clothilde darting out of the room.

Now I'm face-to-face and alone with strange Horace for the first time. He observes me and with a roguish twist to his mouth he says, "the aroma of honey, spring water and a girl with a big secret. Your underthings brought me great joy and inspiration."

Finally Clothilde re-enters the room before I become tempted to gag this man-boy.

"Horace, you are to keep still for me. We are going to make you beautiful," Clothilde says.

She proceeds to apply rouge to both of his cheeks, eye shadow and pencil to his eyes, and a very bright red lipstick to his thin lips. His expression never wavers and his eyes continue gazing at me. Evidently Horace has been beautified previously.

"Doesn't he look pretty, Felice?" she asks.

"Maybe if he was properly clothed," I say surprising myself.

"You're right. I'm going to untie you Horace, or shall we call you Harriet?" she laughs and takes the knife and cuts through the rope. Horace springs free like a bird and stretches his limbs.

"Felice, can we borrow your petticoat just for a moment? I believe it just might fit this trollop," she says.

"I will lend it if she promises not to get it soiled," I say. By this time I'm beginning to enjoy this game and play-acting. I remove my garments and hand them over.

After Horace, now Harriet, is in proper dress, we command him to parade around the room. We scold him when he shows the slightest trace of masculinity and encourage him to display the wanton ways of a trollop. Showcasing her rubenesque physique, Clothilde brazenly demonstrates the proper way of carrying oneself.

What began as a disturbing evening, having one's undergarments stolen, fondled, and sniffed, ended in laughter and outrageous fun. Over the days to come, Clothilde and I became friends and confidants while Horace continued to be a big source of amusement for us.

My days with the new staff typically went as such:

Every morning, Lady Thisbe would hand Pet a list of items for him to fetch at the markets and stores. After we served breakfast, we would then sit down for our own. The Lady had some odd tastes of very foreign sounding things she consumed, and always prepared by the faithful Clothilde. The Lady liked to take her breakfast in complete silence and anytime Horace or Clothilde got restless or made too much noise she would give them a cold stare. She would often be scrawling in a notebook while possessed with her fountain pen.

Soon after breakfast, I'd be off to tend to the upstairs. Presumably, that is when Horace would be spilling the contents of his bag all over the kitchen and getting in Clothildes way. For several hours, I would have no idea what business was going on downstairs, other than hearing lots of ruckus and things being delivered in preparation for the party.

At lunch, Lady Thisbe would have lunch brought into her rooms attached to the nursery, and dine with her adoring Pet. We were forbidden from disturbing her during those hours.

Teatime was when we would all sit down and talk about the planning for the soiree. The Lady always had a plan for each of us, but mine consisted mostly of taking care of the upstairs. She would give Horace and Clothilde tasks of an unknown origin to me, and Pet was the only one who had tasks consisting out of doors as well as butler business.

The most jovial part of the day with the entire staff was our dinner. Lady Thisbe relished in telling us stories of her adventures travelling as a young girl, and she became most animated after having a few glasses of wine. The whole table would be enthralled and nobody would ever question the truth to her embellishments. Horace would make attempts at interjecting in the conversation and would constantly be shot down by Clotilde. It started to become apparent to me that Horace was devising a plan to receive punishment. Provoking Lady Thisbe was his favorite game, and after a few glasses of wine, she became less demure and more likely to give Horace what he desired. Clotilde and Pet kept a constant watchful eye on Horace to make sure he wouldn't take advantage of Lady Thisbe's clouded judgement, while I made sure to properly hide all of my personal belongings.