"Oh my god..." Marcy said, with far more amusement than offense. Paul shuffled backwards gingerly, refusing to make eye contact with her. He put both ...is hands in his pants pockets and tried to use them to push the entire front of his pants forward, to conceal the distinct bulge. "Oh, uh... wow. I should... I should probably go," Marcy softly stammered, clearly flustered. "Yeah, ok," Paul replied, still refusing to look directly at her. "Can I... Do you want me to do anything?" Marcy asked,. I understood the necessity of that and worked enthusiastically, as well as I could, for I still wore my corsets. Charles insisted on the Saturday bathing ritual, explaining that while we could not afford to send me to school, we could still raise me as a lady. The bath and corsets were symbolic, the last remnants of my former life.Mother became more and more depressed, frustrated that her circumstances were so reduced, and she could no longer strut pridefully with her former friends. One. More

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