The never-ending fantasy

All things being equal, you'd think that a girl would get tired of a particular fantasy. Don't you think? But, I never, never do.

We've got a little break in the proceedings of life here: winter term break. There is more of an opportunity to sleep in a little; get a little more sleep and on waking, let the mind wander and settle where it will.

And, where does the girl's mind go? Well, would you care to follow me?

I am at the estate of a man He is a very nice man: handsome, well spoken, learned and well respected within his industry. His home is comfortable but not at all ostentatious. It is an 'old money' sort of home where the rugs are a little worn but they are so precious, they look best that way.

I am not sure exactly why this particular man was chosen for me but my father has informed me that this is a good marriage, that my husband is a good and suitable man and that I should listen carefully to what he says and obey him. He assures me that even though he may ask me to do things that are unusual or even uncomfortable, that it is for the best. I should trust his judgement in choosing this man for me, no matter what happens. It is all for a reason, he says.

Certainly, the courtship was a desirable thing. He is a most courteous man and extremely considerate. The wedding is quite beautiful and day by day, I find myself more and more attached to the man. Our relationship is quite formal in tone but he is most certainly attentive and kind to me.

For a time, he allows me to settle into his routines. He enjoys the rituals and routines of a day and it is not at all difficult to follow that lead: to rise at a certain time, to eat at a certain time and to go to bed at a certain time.

He is not one to raise his voice but he does make it clear when something I do is not to his tastes or requirements. Day by day, he begins to guide me as to how to behave in his company.

A few weeks after we have returned from the honeymoon (time spent lazing in and touring Tuscany) he introduces me to a woman who he has employed to be his housekeeper and who will assist me with my "role".In fact, we already have a weekly cleaner and a part time cook, but this woman will oversee matters, he says. I wonder to myself if this is really necessary and what I might do with my time but I say nothing. He is not a man a young girl would consider questioning so early in the marriage.

One day, he calls the woman into our bedroom and has her take measurements of my body and a week later he brings home from a business trip in the city what he explains to me is a corset. It will bring my waist in four inches, he informs me and give me more of an hour glass figure. As well, he explains, it will "contain" me; remind me of my "place" and "purpose".

He watches as the woman, whom I am to simply call "Madame" pulls the corset tighter and tighter until I feel very constricted. "That will be fine for now," he says to her. "Give her time to get used to the constriction before you make it any tighter. There is  no hurry."

I wonder how it could possibly be the case that the garment could be tied any tighter than it is already but I say nothing, quite intimidated by the pair to dare to complain. I look in the mirror and am surprised to feel a sense of pride at my appearance especially when I hear the words,

"She is beautiful, Sir. She has great potential."

"Indeed. I chose carefully before I  selected my bride."

Edwin then turns to me and with his hands around my tiny waist, and his lips close to my ear, "My darling, you make me very proud. I will guide you and protect you and in my care you will open and blossom like a flower. All you need do is what you are told. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir, I understand."

"That's my girl."

(to be continued, perhaps...)