The Elephant in the Room Ch. 02

Chapter Two: Elizabeth

Elizabeth's first memories were of being poor; that is to say her mother was poor and alone having been abandoned by her husband, Elizabeth's father.

Her mom cursed her ex-husband and men in general but she schemed and connived and using her good looks, her intelligence and her considerable sex appeal she landed another man, a better man, a man of wealth and influence; her beloved Herbert or Bertie as everyone called him.

Things changed dramatically from then on; from the age of five Elizabeth, or Lizzy as her mother and stepfather called her, lived in a big house and lived a life of opulence. She went to the right schools and played with the right friends and went on holidays to the right places with the right people.

Her life was very sheltered; her mother was very old fashioned and controlling.

"Just remember Lizzy; you don't need a good education, just the right breeding, a comely countenance, and the wherewithal to marry the right man. One thing I have learned is to just make sure that you are in control of the relationship but let your man think that he is; it will all make sense to you when you get older," her mother often said to her.

Elizabeth had that ethos ingrained in her by the time she matured and approached womanhood. She watched her mother wrap men around her little finger, using her pleasant disposition, her good looks and her latent sensuality.

Elizabeth imitated her mother and as she grew and couldn't wait to start wearing makeup, nice lingerie and nylons; all which her mother withheld until her sixteenth birthday.

"Just enjoy being a girl Lizzy; once you become a woman life becomes complicated," her mother said.

"When you turn sixteen I'll show you how to dress like a woman; until then you dress like a girl," her mother's word was final.

On her sixteenth birthday Elizabeth's mother took her shopping and bought her, her first cosmetics case, satin full and half slips, satin and lace bra and knicker sets, a suspender belt, stockings and some sheer tights. They bought her two pairs of high heels and went to the hairdresser and had her shoulder-length girly ringlets straightened and cut into a bob. Then there were also grown up dresses, shirts and blouses to buy.

Elizabeth was over the moon with joy and couldn't wait to try on her presents. Her mother helped her with her makeup and lingerie.

"I want you to wear stockings today dear. Once you've mastered the art of how to wear stockings you can wear sheer tights and just wear stockings for special occasions," her mother advised as she showed her daughter how to roll on her nylons and clip the garter snaps to the dark welts.

'Men seem to have a fascination for the damn things,' she raised one brow knowingly.

The gesticulation was lost on Elizabeth who, as much she wanted to imitate her mother, was naïve in the ways of men.

"Elizabeth dear, the only time a woman should be sans hosiery is when she's going to bed...and sometimes not even then," she winked at her daughter; the gesture again going to ground.

"And you should put on your makeup as soon as you can after your morning bath or shower and touch it up regularly. I know the so-called liberated women of today spurn hosiery and deride the use of makeup but believe me you will catch and keep your man by being feminine and demure on the outside, and a conniving witch on the inside," her mother actually giggled.

Mother had drunk nearly half a bottle of Champagne by that stage and even allowed Elizabeth to take a glass.

"My god! Is that my little snuggle-muffin? She's all grown and become a woman," Bertie beamed and opened his arms when his daughter entered the room in her new clothes.

Lizzie ran to the man she considered her father and gave him a hug and kissed his cheek. She laughed when she saw that she had left a lipstick kiss on his jowl.

"You aren't to call me snuggle-muffin any more daddy. It's Elizabeth, or if you must and only at home, you can call me Lizzy," she chided him.

He chuckled and patted her behind, his hand lingered and Elizabeth's mother frowned.

The three sat around the table talking about Elizabeth's presents and the big dinner that they were putting on for Lizzy and her friends in lieu of a birthday party. Elizabeth had invited all of her friends out to dinner thinking it was far more sophisticated and grown up to have a birthday dinner at a nice restaurant rather than a birthday party at home.

She was allowed another glass of Champagne and her mother and Bertie polished off another bottle between them as they chatted and joked about the day's events.

Elizabeth needed to use the toilet so she stood up and tried to squeeze past Bertie.

Her daddy playfully pulled her into his lap.

"Lizzy, give us a kiss and cuddle for your birthday," he laughed, smooching her cheek and tickling her.

Elizabeth giggled; squealing and squirming playfully in Bertie's lap, her dress rode up a little and her buttocks burrowed in Bertie's groin. That was the first time she felt a man's erect penis against her bottom, but she chose to ignore it as an incongruity, a mishap. Bertie's hands slid down her waist and began to massage her thighs; pawing at her brand new nylons.

Elizabeth knew that something was awry and she registered the stormclouds gather in her mother's eyes.

"Come along now Lizzy; off you go. And you Bertie; we need a word," her mother pulled Elizabeth from her stepfather's lap.

Her mother seemed particularly peeved and led Bertie towards the stairs to the upstairs bedrooms.

Elizabeth went and had a wee and then she toyed with her birthday presents for a while. She could hear shouting and arguing coming from her parent's room. She became bored and, noticing that the quarrelling had ceased, she went upstairs and opened her parent's bedroom door a crack. She was going to ask how long before they were to go out for her birthday dinner.

Elizabeth was shocked by the sight that greeted her.

Her mother was on the bed on all fours; she had taken off her dress and slip but still wore her brassiere, her garterbelt, stockings and her high heels. Bertie was behind her, gripping her hips, vigorously shagging her. Her mother looked to be in pain but then Elizabeth realised that beneath the painful look there was something else. She looked to be in control.

"Come on Bertie finish up; we need to take Lizzy out for her birthday," she had turned her head towards Bertie who had his eyes closed and an expression of concentrated bliss on his face.

What her mother said next astonished her.

"Just imagine I'm Lizzy if that helps," her mother said and wriggled her bottom seductively.

Elizabeth quietly closed the door and tiptoed away; dismayed and stunned.

What Elizabeth knew about sex she had picked up in the playground or in the girl's study hall at school so all that she knew was that a man would become erect and want to put it inside the woman; down there. Her mother had told Elizabeth about conception and childbirth but nothing about the sex act itself.

"Darling your husband will know what to do on your wedding night. It's quite a messy, beastly chore actually, and best not done too often and then got over with quickly. Remember that men can always find other ways to deal with their urges without having to constantly pester their wives," was the only advice her mother gave her.

Bertie came to her room that night, her mother was passed out having drunk nearly half a bottle of gin on top of the Champagne and the wine at dinner.

Elizabeth was still excited from the wonderful birthday dinner at the posh restaurant; her friends all complimented her on her new grown-up wardrobe and hairstyle and the girls were allowed a glass of wine with each course. Elizabeth was still tipsy and had shucked out of her party dress and was curled up the bed in her underwear writing in her diary.

"How's my birthday girl then?" Bertie smiled at her.

She was used to her father seeing her in her underwear and she did not make the connection that until today that meant dreary cotton baggy knickers, a dowdy white cotton bra and longsleeved cotton nightie.

Elizabeth was still wearing her makeup and was wearing her stockings, suspender belt, satin full-cut knickers and full-slip. Her little pert breasts cupped in a matching bra.

Bertie licked his lips and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I'm tired daddy but it's been a wonderful day," Elizabeth smiled.

"Let's snuggle like we used to when you were my little girl," Bertie smiled at her.

He scooted her across her big bed and lay down beside her turning off the bedside lamp. She was appreciative of the affection that Bertie showed her, especially as she was aware that her real father had abandoned her and her mother.

"I love you my little Lizzie," he whispered in her ear and pulled her close to him so they were spooning.

At first she was content to lie there while Bertie snuggled up to her. Then she became aware that his breathing had become laboured but she put that down to the drink. Then she felt him fumbling with his clothes and then to her dismay she felt his hard penis pressed against her bottom.

Elizabeth wasn't stupid, she knew what it was when he had become erect when she had wriggled in his lap earlier in the day. She just didn't know that it was wrong. She knew that now that she was entering womanhood Bertie shouldn't be doing what he was doing but she didn't want to hurt or disappoint him. She didn't want his to leave her and her mother like her real daddy had, so she lay still.

She felt Bertie thrust against her buttocks and then felt him lift her slip out of the way so that his penis nestled in the crevice of her silky knickers. He gently rubbed himself on her as he held her tight and then she felt a warm wet feeling on her bottom.

Bertie groaned and sighed. After a little while he rolled away.

"That was a lovely cuddle Lizzy," he said adjusting his trousers in the dark.

He got off the bed and turned the bedside lamp back on.

Bertie looked flushed and guilty. He forced a smile.

"Here's a tenner for your birthday Lizzy. Lets keep this our little secret shall we?" he looked at her sternly and Elizabeth nodded.

And so Elizabeth learned a lesson that she should never have had to at her age. If you are nice to men and let them do things that please them, they will reward you. This reinforced the lessons her mother had told her, use your looks to beguile men and let them think that they are in control while remaining in control yourself.

"I can keep it a secret Bertie. So long as you are generous you can cuddle me whenever you want to," she said.

Bertie didn't like the fact that Lizzie had used his first name, nor the conspiring look in her eyes.

But Bertie couldn't stay away and regularly visited his stepdaughter at night in her bedroom. It got so that Elizabeth could see the signs, Bertie would be nervous and he would look at her licentiously, his gaze straying to her breasts, her legs and her buttocks. She would tease him, allowing her skirt to ride up or bend over in front of him, exposing her budding breasts.

She never let him touch her there or put his manhood in her vagina, she wasn't stupid, but she allowed him to rub himself on her knicker-clad buttocks or her pubic mound. She knew he would be coming for her and ensured she was still dressed in lingerie and sheer tights; her tights and knickers kept him from doing anything other than panty-pop her. That was what some of her girlfriends called the practice of allowing their boyfriends to dry hump them in lieu of intercourse.

The guiltier that Bertie felt; the bigger the stipend he left for her after he had finished. All she had to do was rinse off her knickers and tights after he left her bedroom and pocket the cash.

Her mother suspected from the start and she would hear them arguing late at night, especially if Bertie had visited her. Her mother became more distant but she didn't really blame Elizabeth; she was still really just a naïve girl.

"Chelmsford Finishing School for Young Ladies," her mother said sweetly and smiled.

"It will round out your education and you can live-in, boarding with the other girls; won't that be wonderful? You will become a woman of the world," her mother said.

It was to be her seventeenth birthday present, enrolment at Chelmsford Finishing School for Young Ladies. She would be a boarder, coming home only on the holidays.

Elizabeth was pragmatic, she knew that her mother knew that Bertie was visiting her at night, she had even asked Elizabeth if the was still intact, referring to her virginity.

"Of course mother!" she had blushed.

"Well we had better do something to make sure you remain so!" her mother gave her a rueful look.

Bertie was dismayed but pragmatic. He knew he would have to stop his dalliances with Elizabeth before something terrible happened. Besides, his wife had suddenly become a lot more adventurous in the bedroom and had trimmed down a little and came to bed wearing stockings and lingerie without request and did all those naughty things that she didn't like but he did, so it was a fair trade.

Elizabeth had been at the Finishing School for about three months when she was summoned to the office of the Deputy Headmistress; one Valerie Swindon.

Valerie offered Elizabeth a cigarette, which she took, although she knew that smoking in the main school building was against the rules. Elizabeth had started smoking during her first week at the school. All the girls smoked, they thought it was sophisticated.

Valerie was sitting in a lounge chair near the window of her large office, she was in her middle fifties but she was still a stunning woman. She was wearing a grey suit and cream satin blouse. Her makeup was perfect and her hair coloured and styled to perfection; she dangled a red soled high heel, which Elizabeth recognised as Christian Louboutin, two hundred pounds Stirling of sex appeal. The skirt of her business suit rode high on her thigh revealing expensive sheer hosiery. She accessorised with gold earrings, a necklace and bracelets, which gleamed in the dark office, picking up the light coming through the window.

"So...you've been here a while now Elizabeth. The girls talk even though they shouldn't; what do you know of me?" Valerie smiled and poured tea for them both.

Valerie rose and closed and locked the door to her office and returned to her seat, smoothing her skirt under her.

"You came here in the late seventies as a student and worked your way onto the faculty. The girls say you actually run this place, that you restored it to its former glory" Elizabeth sipped her tea nervously.

"What else?" Valerie looked amused.

"Ahem. They say that some of the girls work for you as high-priced callgirls; that it's not compulsory but those that do earn a good wage but have to keep up their grades," Elizabeth put down her cup and it rattled in the saucer.

"What else?" Valerie looked over the rim of her cup.

"Nothing," Elizabeth replied but she was blushing and couldn't hold Valerie's gaze.

"What else Elizabeth," this time her tone was demanding.

"There's rumours that you're, ahem..." Elizabeth stammered.

"Go on," Valerie's smile remained fixed.

"That you are a transsexual," Elizabeth whispered and looked down at the floor.

"And do you know what a transsexual is?" Valerie had a pleasant smile on her face.

"A man who has become a woman? But you don't look anything like a man," Elizabeth said quickly.

"No I don't. For all intents and purposes I am a woman, certainly legally I am," Valerie's smile didn't waver.

"I am in fact all woman; but...I have a man's genitals," Valerie sipped her tea.

Elizabeth fidgeted; uncomfortable with the situation.

"Ok so we have that out of the way. I know something about you; the girls talk to me too," Valerie stubbed out her cigarette.

"I know that you were once poor, that your mother remarried and remarried well. That your stepfather became, shall we say closer to you than is befitting or proper," Valerie stood and walked to the sideboard where she had a small bar, her heels click-clacking on the polished floorboards.

Elizabeth's face was burning; those bitches just couldn't be trusted to keep a secret, she thought of her dorm mates.

Valerie poured two glasses of scotch and offered one to Elizabeth. She took it gladly and sipped the burning liquid. Drinking was another vice she had acquired since arriving at Chelmsford.

"I'm going to offer you the same proposal that I give to all the girls who live in and who I think I can trust."

She threw a business card on the coffee table. The small black high-gloss card had the silhouette of a stylised schoolgirl with her skirt flung high showing off her stockings embossed on it in silver. Under the logo was printed the words 'Saint Trinian's Escorts' followed by a phone number.

"It's lucrative. It's discreet. And you only do it while you are a student here. You live well and build a nest-egg for when you leave here to see you through until you marry the right man," Valerie sipped her scotch.

"You're looked after by my staff. My wife Sally and my business partner Emily look after the bookings and Raul and Billy's crew provide protection while you're working," Valerie finished her drink and poured another.

"It's a great offer Miss but I don't need the money," Elizabeth replied and made to leave.

"You didn't need the money; but now you do. Sit down Elizabeth. What neither your stepfather nor your mother have told you is that they have cut off your stipend. They are only paying for your tuition; no spending allowance. It seems your mother renegotiated your terms of enrolment with your stepfather," Valerie topped off Elizabeth's drink.

"Seems mommy has a vindictive streak and she's punishing you for playing panty-pops with Bertie," Valerie's smile was humourless.

"Fuck!" Elizabeth let fly with her newly learned profanity.

"Yes, but I'll pay you to fuck," Valerie gave a wry smile at her own joke.

Elizabeth flew out of her chair and out the door. She raced back to her single room in the dormitory; she snatched up her mobile phone which students were not allowed to carry during school lesson hours, and dialled home.

Valerie was sitting in the same chair grading essays when Elizabeth burst back into her office some twenty minutes later and slammed the door behind her.

She had been crying and her makeup had run.

Valerie dropped the papers she was holding, rose out of her chair and hugged Elizabeth and allowed her to sob as Valerie stroked her hair and cooed in her ear.

"It's ok; it's ok."

"Those fuckers!" Elizabeth sobbed.

Valerie pushed Elizabeth out to arm's length.

"Ok stop crying! Your runny makeup has already ruined this jacket," Valerie said, but she was smiling.

"I'm sorry Elizabeth but you are right, people can be fuckers. Speaking of which you need to curb your language around the school, keep your swearing for the dorms," Valerie said, but she was still smiling.

"Ok! I'm in!" Elizabeth sobbed.

"Hey; wait a minute! Think about it! Take some time; talk to the girls who work for me and find out what you're letting yourself in for," Valerie offered Elizabeth a handkerchief.

"I already have. I'm in!" Elizabeth had stopped crying and she had a determined look on her face.

"I'll explain how it all works and I'll assign one of the girls to be your chaperone until you get to know the ropes ok?" Valerie released Elizabeth and went to an opened safe where she kept copies of her standard contracts and code of conduct for her 'Saint Trinian's' girls.

"Read these. Make sure you are certain about the decision you make and then come see me tomorrow," Valerie pointed to the door.