another anon fills this.
anonymous
March 4 2009, 13:26:33 UTC
Anon, as usual, apologizes for her fail. But Victorian!Arthur is toooo tempting to write. Even if I did hardly any research, considering how much I usually do.
And yes I am channeling experience for the corset bit. >.o --
“Al, this is totally improper!” said girl looked over her clothes.
“What is? This?” she tugged at her shirt, a man’s shirt.
“Of course!”
“So? I’m not a baby, I can dress myself.” She poked out her tongue.
“Your people are also realizing the importance of being proper.” Arthur began nagging, dragging her back into her house, shoving her onto the couch. “You need to behave like a proper lady.”
“Why? I’m gonna head West.” She said. “They don’t care about being ‘proper’.” She snorted. “They’re all about drinking and partying and fighting off Indians!”
“That’s totally wrong!” he exclaimed. “If I can whip India into shape, I can straighten you out.”
“Didn’t she wear just one piece of fabric as a dress?”
“Yes, when I arrived. She no longer does that.”
“Why would a red-blooded man like yourself want to ‘fix’ that? Are you no man?” She laughed and he glared at her.
“First, you need to get out of these abominations. They are not fitting for a girl, no matter how boyish she may act or look.” Arthur started, seeming to pull a corset, bloomers, and an incredibly stuffy-looking burgundy dress from nowhere. “Go and change into these and I’ll help you with the corset.” He draped the dress over his arm, holding out the pieces of underclothing. Al glanced around, searching for exits, ready to run through a door or, hell, even jump out a window, grab a horse, and go West! However, he was blocking the only way out, so she had no choice but to go into the windowless toilet and change.
She dropped her clothes, flushing as she bared herself with him outside of the door. She slipped the bloomers up her legs, adjusting them on her hips, before realizing that she couldn’t fasten the corset on her on and yes, she did need Arthur’s help in fastening it. She kicked the door open, holding the corset closed with one hand and her shirt over her chest with the other.
“I can’t do it.” She announced. Arthur made a face and stepped towards her, batting away her hands. He averted his eyes as he worked his fingers over the fasteners, closing the firm fabric over her torso and chest.
“There, turn around and put your hands on the table.” Al’s eyes widened.
“What the hell is that? I thought you were a ‘proper gentleman’?!” she protested.
“I’m going to tighten your corset, you dumbass.” He snapped back. “Now turn around.”
“W-what? No! I can hardly breathe as it is!” Al protested.
“Do it!” She shot him an, “I hate you, I’m going to kill you.” look, and she did as she wat told. She felt his hands on her back, tightening the laces. She felt herself being pushed into a feminine shape, her breasts being pushed up and her waist pushed in, feigning the appearance of hips. He continued tugging on the laces.
“Argh, stop, I’m dying!”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am!” she whined. “My insides are going to come out!”
“You’d be the first woman ever to have her organs pushed out of her body by way of corset if it happened.” Arthur gave the laces another hard tug for good measure before tying them at the base of her spine. She struggled to catch her breath, and she turned to him, glaring.
“It hurts.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
“I can’t bend over.”
“Why do you need to?” he took her arm and lead her to the waiting petticoat, which he pushed into her arms. “Put this on.” She grumbled and fought into it, her corset severely limiting her movement. When Arthur was satisfied, he helped her into the burgundy dress, and looked over her. She was pretty, after all. Under the tomboyish-ness, she made a gorgeous woman. Admittedly, she didn’t have the best figure; she was rather flat chested and had slim hips, but in the dress she looked amazing.
“Hello, Arthur? You listening?” she had her hands on her hips.
“Oh, of course.” He lied. “Your hair needs to be fixed. Sit.” He sat her in a chair and produced her brush, pulling it through her blonde hair and trying a few styles before he realized she kept it too short to do anything but leave it falling around her face. She didn’t seem to like that; she thought that was a complete waste of time.
“Sit up straight.” He snapped when he noticed her leaning back. She did what he instructed, watching him look over her.
“Aside from you being barefoot, you certainly look the part of a proper young lady.”
“Like anyone would want to.”
“And then, you open your mouth.” He knelt down, lifting her foot and slipping it into the heeled boots he’d brought. He marveled at her skin; she was pale, and her skin was smooth. His hands ached to wander, but he held back and fastened the boots on her ankles. “There.”
“Okay, are you done dressing me up?” Al asked, struggling to her feet. Arthur straightened up as she headed to the door.
“No, no, you can’t leave now! You have much more to learn!”
“Like what?”
“Like what to do with suitors.”
“Suitors? What are you-“ she was cut off with a kiss as he pulled her back, pushing his lips to hers, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back. She returned the kiss, her tongue pushing forward to touch his lips. He fought back, not about to be dominated by a woman, much less her. After a few moments, he pulled back, a thin trail of saliva between their lips.
“What do I do about that? Do I get to slap you?” Al licked her lips. Arthur tutted.
“So much to learn!” --- …yeah idk. No historical comments to make, other than that apparently Victorian era manners were just as uptight as they are fabled to be. And that “Al” is what I went with, rather than use a female name. -just couldn’t do it-
And yes I am channeling experience for the corset bit. >.o
--
“Al, this is totally improper!” said girl looked over her clothes.
“What is? This?” she tugged at her shirt, a man’s shirt.
“Of course!”
“So? I’m not a baby, I can dress myself.” She poked out her tongue.
“Your people are also realizing the importance of being proper.” Arthur began nagging, dragging her back into her house, shoving her onto the couch. “You need to behave like a proper lady.”
“Why? I’m gonna head West.” She said. “They don’t care about being ‘proper’.” She snorted. “They’re all about drinking and partying and fighting off Indians!”
“That’s totally wrong!” he exclaimed. “If I can whip India into shape, I can straighten you out.”
“Didn’t she wear just one piece of fabric as a dress?”
“Yes, when I arrived. She no longer does that.”
“Why would a red-blooded man like yourself want to ‘fix’ that? Are you no man?” She laughed and he glared at her.
“First, you need to get out of these abominations. They are not fitting for a girl, no matter how boyish she may act or look.” Arthur started, seeming to pull a corset, bloomers, and an incredibly stuffy-looking burgundy dress from nowhere. “Go and change into these and I’ll help you with the corset.” He draped the dress over his arm, holding out the pieces of underclothing. Al glanced around, searching for exits, ready to run through a door or, hell, even jump out a window, grab a horse, and go West! However, he was blocking the only way out, so she had no choice but to go into the windowless toilet and change.
She dropped her clothes, flushing as she bared herself with him outside of the door. She slipped the bloomers up her legs, adjusting them on her hips, before realizing that she couldn’t fasten the corset on her on and yes, she did need Arthur’s help in fastening it. She kicked the door open, holding the corset closed with one hand and her shirt over her chest with the other.
“I can’t do it.” She announced. Arthur made a face and stepped towards her, batting away her hands. He averted his eyes as he worked his fingers over the fasteners, closing the firm fabric over her torso and chest.
“There, turn around and put your hands on the table.” Al’s eyes widened.
“What the hell is that? I thought you were a ‘proper gentleman’?!” she protested.
“I’m going to tighten your corset, you dumbass.” He snapped back. “Now turn around.”
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“Do it!” She shot him an, “I hate you, I’m going to kill you.” look, and she did as she wat told. She felt his hands on her back, tightening the laces. She felt herself being pushed into a feminine shape, her breasts being pushed up and her waist pushed in, feigning the appearance of hips. He continued tugging on the laces.
“Argh, stop, I’m dying!”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am!” she whined. “My insides are going to come out!”
“You’d be the first woman ever to have her organs pushed out of her body by way of corset if it happened.” Arthur gave the laces another hard tug for good measure before tying them at the base of her spine. She struggled to catch her breath, and she turned to him, glaring.
“It hurts.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
“I can’t bend over.”
“Why do you need to?” he took her arm and lead her to the waiting petticoat, which he pushed into her arms. “Put this on.” She grumbled and fought into it, her corset severely limiting her movement. When Arthur was satisfied, he helped her into the burgundy dress, and looked over her. She was pretty, after all. Under the tomboyish-ness, she made a gorgeous woman. Admittedly, she didn’t have the best figure; she was rather flat chested and had slim hips, but in the dress she looked amazing.
“Hello, Arthur? You listening?” she had her hands on her hips.
“Oh, of course.” He lied. “Your hair needs to be fixed. Sit.” He sat her in a chair and produced her brush, pulling it through her blonde hair and trying a few styles before he realized she kept it too short to do anything but leave it falling around her face. She didn’t seem to like that; she thought that was a complete waste of time.
“Sit up straight.” He snapped when he noticed her leaning back. She did what he instructed, watching him look over her.
“Aside from you being barefoot, you certainly look the part of a proper young lady.”
“Like anyone would want to.”
“And then, you open your mouth.” He knelt down, lifting her foot and slipping it into the heeled boots he’d brought. He marveled at her skin; she was pale, and her skin was smooth. His hands ached to wander, but he held back and fastened the boots on her ankles. “There.”
“Okay, are you done dressing me up?” Al asked, struggling to her feet. Arthur straightened up as she headed to the door.
“No, no, you can’t leave now! You have much more to learn!”
“Like what?”
“Like what to do with suitors.”
“Suitors? What are you-“ she was cut off with a kiss as he pulled her back, pushing his lips to hers, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back. She returned the kiss, her tongue pushing forward to touch his lips. He fought back, not about to be dominated by a woman, much less her. After a few moments, he pulled back, a thin trail of saliva between their lips.
“What do I do about that? Do I get to slap you?” Al licked her lips. Arthur tutted.
“So much to learn!”
---
…yeah idk. No historical comments to make, other than that apparently Victorian era manners were just as uptight as they are fabled to be. And that “Al” is what I went with, rather than use a female name. -just couldn’t do it-
Also anon probably made tons of stupid mistakes.
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Though. “You’d be the first woman ever to have her organs pushed out of her body by way of corset if it happened.” Kuroshitsuji much? 8D
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That was hot. I'm developing a kink for Female!Alfred now. >.<; But anyway. *squee* That was really, really amazing. Thank you for writing this!
Also, even though all they did was kiss...the tension. OMFG. And Oh, America. XD
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Methinks I'm developing a thing for fem!America...tomboy!America to be exact.
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/moar
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I-I'm actually tempted to write more...>>;;;
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Nut anywho I really like it. America as a girl
is still pretty much win in my book that and Uke
is still as pushy as ever :D
s-s-s-o-o-o tsunderee >:3
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8DDD
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