No questions. No questions now. Her grace wants to speak with you. Hands off and be good.
And I know you, alright? Try not to stare. Stare at me, while it's still not monstrously
inappropriate. Come evening, I'll already be another man's wife. And you'll have to seek
out some other cleavage to celebrate over. My pretty young cousin perhaps? Or that harpy,
you all the same treat as a woman? Such a sweet and obliging young man, making every lady that
happens to pass you by feel lovely, desirable, and special. If I didn't love my fiancée,
I'd be in big, big trouble. There, her grace wants to ask you for a favour. Behave. Are you
not going to say good afternoon to your lady and your godmother? Good. That's more like
it. So, how shall I put this? We need you. Suzanne, help. It's just a little joke we're
playing. And for that, we need you. And you will have to be a girl for a while. I mean,
you will remain the way the god created you, but we want to teach someone a lesson. And
for that, we need a handsome lad like you. A good sport who will not object to wearing
a skirt for the evening. And a lady stays. And a bonnet. And something curls. And a better
coat. You can keep your drawers and stockings and shoes on. It's all very innocent. Just
one little frolic before you go off to be the man's man, the soldier and all. What
kind of lesson? And whom will it be taught to? What a smart lad. That's a very important
question. The lesson would be that of how ridiculous it is for a married man to go skirt-chasing.
And the person in question would be the count. No harm will come to you. If things go as
we plan, his grace will be in no position to threaten anyone. Deeply contrite and meek
as a lamb. Hopefully. And if things go wrong, he'll just mount and trot off peacefully
as he was supposed to do anyway. The backpack, the helmet, the cannons, the bullets, all
that. Arguably still better than his grace and his fury. Very true. So, are you in? You
won't say no to your godmother and to our charming, charming bride on her special day.
Please do not tell me that Chevor is dead. You know that he'll do anything for a lady.
Let alone two ladies. We'll live in shape, please. Please, young man, please. Please.
Your grace. Please. I knew you'd agree. Aren't you a dear? Undress them, young man, and we
shall pick something for you to wear. Don't just drop your coat on the floor like that.
Here, let me tell you, as a chambermaid, these are impossible to iron after you wash them.
So you want to keep them as clean as possible. You, with your love for fine clothes, should
know. Get on with it. Now the waistcoat. Ha! This embroidery is better than that on my wedding
gown. What's that about? If you are so displeased with the waistcoat, tear it off, then. Right.
This chest, your grace, this chest. Young man, please, please, please take good care of it
when you go off to war. Don't run into some stupid bayonet runner. Look, your grace, just
look at him. Breathe. Ah, yes. And the heartbeat. Oh, my. I can see it. And it seems to get
even more violent when I feel it with my hand. A question as burning as his cheeks. Do we
leave the shirt on, or do we take it off? I'd say we take it off. We need to see some
cleavage. Sew you under the sleeves, and I'll take care of the laces up here. To tell you
the truth, I'm a bit uncomfortable playing with him, like with some fashion doll. Shouldn't
we, like, talk? He's enjoying it, can't you tell? And he's too stung to speak anyway,
so it's alright. Good God, the skin is smaller and cleaner than mine. That's not fair. This
stays, Suzan. Are you shivering, darling? Don't be. We'll dress you up in no time,
as pretty as a picture. There you go. Arms, darling. Up, up. Turn around. Now lace it.
There you go. Patience, young man. Patience. Now pull. Tighten. Yes, young man, you'll
have to suck it all in for a while. We want to see a lovely, narrow waist. I'll have
to help your chest up a little, to make it look more... plump. Oh my God. It's like
me and the galleys back at the convent all over again. The poor thing developed rather
late, and I taught her to sort of lift and squeeze her breasts out to make them appear
bigger. Let me tell you, young man, as manly as you are, you have bigger breasts than she
ever had. Much bigger. They look simply delicious like this. Breathe. Breathe with me. It's
all going well. In, out. Now that you're a girl, get used to it. Tighter, Susan. Tighter.
Isn't this beautiful? Skin, though. Completely unfair. Now comb your hair back for us, young
man. Which wig, my lady? I think that one. Give it to me. I'll have a look. Wait. This
one doesn't go with his eyes. This one? That's better. Let's try. I feel like an artist.
It's impossible to believe how little it took to turn this lady well into the prettiest
girl I've ever seen. Just look at those lips. Without any paint, even. Succulent. Who knows?
Maybe he is in fact a girl. Are you, darling? Maybe you have been fooling us over here all
the while. Maybe we should check. I mean, I have his godmother. I saw him christened,
but who knows what could have happened over the years. What if I stretch my hand and touch
a little bit just there? No. I definitely feel something. Oh, young man, don't be so
nervous. Smile. It's a happy occasion, after all. A wedding day. Well, not yours, but still.
You call it a happy occasion, but this here feels a bit wrong. Wrong, my dear Suson, is
subject to gradation. It's very wrong to marry a girl off to one's palate, only to
have it easier to rape. It's wrong to try and fuck everything that moves. And barely
touching a not unwilling young man like that through four layers of fabric, for Christ's
sake. Please, it's nothing. Just us girls fooling around. Well, I wouldn't say that
you're barely touching him. From where I am standing now, it looks like you are stroking
him, Your Grace, if you'll pardon my expression. Look the other way, then. I better still come
closer and let us share the responsibility. Yes, give me your hand, Suson. There. Now
you are my partner in crime, and it's absolutely in your own best interest to stop being such
a mighty bore. Looks like he likes it, Your Grace. What's not to like? Two very, very
attractive women of totally different social status and physical description, and the varieties
of spice of life, as I've been told. Two women lured him into this little fragrant
boudoir, made him undress under a ridiculous pretext that can fool all this sweet and experienced
lad like him, and are now stroking him, both at the same time. What's not to like? As a
virgin. Ha-ha. I'm not supposed to know such things, but isn't he going to spill his seed
if we go on much longer? Oh, you're absolutely right. Such a shame that your mother's not
around to instruct you about married life. I can make up for this. That wouldn't be necessary,
but thank you. Why are we still stroking him? Because we can. Because it's so amusing. But
you were saying? Right. It's not that we haven't done anything with my father. How is he? Dashing.
I mean, when he grabs me by the waist and trusts me hard against him, grinding and ralping
and kissing. I really shouldn't be touching our pretty girl there, Your Grace, and neither
should you. No matter what you say, it's still wrong. Alas, you're absolutely right. Let
us be boring, moral, and just let him be. Terribly sorry, my lovely one, you'll have
to remain in the state of the most painful arousal, because that's the right thing to
do. Apparently. Once we dress you completely, no one will see a thing, so it's all right.
If a little disappointing. I know. Let's put on an extra petticoat on him, so that we won't
be tempted. Fine, fine, fine. I think this one. Wide lace. Looks so nice on him. On the
other hand, leaving him like this would be inhumane. Also true. But how shall we go about
it? Well, he still has both his hands. He can take care of himself. He'd better. And
to that end, young man, I suggest you to lift all these petticoats and drop your drawers
after all. It would be most awkward walking around if you come still wearing them.
Moist. Sticky. Uncomfortable. Yes, yes, yes, just undo the laces, just undo the laces
and let them drop. Is it just me, or is this completely depraved? Debushed. Wicked. Just
let them light your feet. It's nice. It makes you stay still, like a good boy. Meanwhile,
use this. There's a bit of lace and embroidery on it too, so it's somewhat stiff, but maybe
that would be even more pleasurable. Just go gently. You don't want to scratch your
most sensitive butt with all the needlework. If it helps, it's her grace's handkerchief.
She keeps it right between her soft, full-fragrant breasts. You can even smell the perfume on
it. It's much better than that ribbon. Better for this particular not-it-purpose anyway.
That's it, that's it. Go on, yes, harder, harder, faster. Just imagine the wedding.
Lots of flowers, music, wine, pretty dresses, and in the middle of all that, the loveliest
girl. You. Yes, be careful, or people will take you for the bride. Our beautiful girl
will turn quite a few heads there. I shall be so proud. Don't stop, don't stop, don't
dare stop. Men will be drooling over this neck and cleavage. Some women too. I think
we'll have to cover up his arms somehow, or they won't bite. They look just too strong.
Those arms, oh my god. Definitely. His arm walking furiously like that. Maybe the only
little thing about him that's left now. Except for the thing in his hand. Oh, with it covered
by all the pedicabs like this, it might as well not be there for all we know. Just another
girl excited about the wedding, fantasizing of the wedding of her own parents. Yes. Rabbit
darling, girls are allowed to have some fun now and then. Yes, that's what it is, that's
what it is, just girls having fun. Maybe we should join? That would be completely inappropriate,
but we can choose him one, I think. We cannot be long enough. Since we are making the soul
so innocent. How about some innocent sweet pecs on his cheek? Great idea. Yeah, good.
Come on, come on in. Come on, come on in. Come on in. Come on in, come on in. Not in
Such an old trick. Every girl knows it.
That's how you make them look prettier.
Should we paint your cheeks too?
No. You are blushing so hard as it is.
Let me tell you, whoever ends up with this charming creature that you are...
Oh yes, like that.
...will be incredibly lucky.
I wouldn't want that.
What do you might look like doing that?
Now I know.
Don't be shy.
You cannot see anything.
There you go.
There's no need to look the other way.
Nothing to be embarrassed about, my lovely one.
There you go.
So, I have a question.
We'll get to keep the head cheek after you're finished.
Would you like to have it?
Something to remember this day by?
You can keep it.
Please, please.
Let it go.
Let it go.
Don't hold back.
It's so essential.
Go faster.
It's also an option.
Do it for us.
Do it for yourself.
Don't come for us, my lovely one.
That's it, just a little more.
That's it, that's it.
Father, you know how you like it.
It makes you so feel good.
You're not doing anything wrong.
It's all so nice and sweet, right?
My lovely girl.
Please, please, please.
Make yourself feel good.
Keep it strong.
There you go.
It's beautiful.
That's it, that's it.
Well, that was so hard, darling.
Where is my fan?
Clean up, young man.
Here's some water.
We'd better finish dressing him up now.
I got so distracted.
Which gown is it again?
That one.
With the birds and long sleeves.
There we go.
Turn around, darling.
Let me straighten your wig.
Just a couple of flowers here.
In the future.
A necklace.
A necklace.
There.
And you're good to go.
Thank you for agreeing to help us out.
It will be so much fun.
