Dressmaker's Dummy

Copyright Oggbashan March 2021

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

This story uses a couple of the characters from my earlier story Car Maintenance, but stands alone.

"Tom? Can you help me with my new dress?"

"Yes, Madeleine. What do you want me to do?

"I need to check the spread of the crinoline and whether the skirt's hemline is even."

Madeleine's sisters and their friends had been using the sewing room in my house for months. It had been equipped and stocked in the late 1930s and had more space and facilities than in any of their houses. They had made curtains for my house renovation, and dressing up clothes for Madeleine and I to be a Victorian lady and gentleman.

One project for Madeleine had been a winter walking-out dress, with the skirt in a very heavy material. She had been wearing it on Sunday mornings when we walked together in our local park but the skirt had impeded her stride. The modern crinoline Madeleine had been using wasn't firm enough to keep the skirt's shape. Her sisters, helped by their boyfriends using the tools in my garage, had been making a couple of steel framed crinolines and last weekend they had been nearly completed. The final touches had been done last night, the 31st March.

I followed Madeleine up to the sewing room. We had taken today and the rest of the week off so that we could do more house decoration. Over breakfast we had made a list of what we needed to buy and would be going shopping later.

I should have been wary. It was the morning of April Fools' Day and I might be tricked by Madeleine. I had thought, last night, that she might try something while we were alone today. Even so, I wasn't really worried. I knew she loved me, and I trusted her. If she tricked me, she wouldn't be cruel.

In the sewing room the new crinolines were obvious, hanging from the wardrobes. They weren't as massive as Madeline's one for use under her evening dresses, but still large.

"What do you want me to do, Madeleine," I asked.

"Kneel in the centre of the room, please Tom. The waistbands are too small for you to wear so I'll rest them on your shoulders."

She lifted a crinoline and settled it around my neck before walking around to make sure it was level. It ended about six inches from the floor.

"I'm sorry, Tom, but checking the skirt will take a few minutes. Once it is level, there is an extra frill to attach."

The skirt was lined and very heavy. I could feel it dragging on my shoulders and the bodice, slumped in front of me, was covering my lower face.

Again Madeleine moved around me, twitching the skirt so the hem was completely level.

"Now the frill," she said. "It is technically a balayeuse -- French for floor sweeper. When attached to the skirt it will be on the ground and is detachable for washing so I have three of them. They attach with press studs."

It took Madeleine about ten minutes to fix the frill in place. She was right. Even though, kneeling, my shoulders are above where her waist would be, the frill was brushing the ground. It took her another five minutes to pull it out into the right shape. It spread around me. From neck downwards I was completely within the skirt and crinoline. Madeleine stood back.

"Tom? Can you shake your shoulders a bit and move around. I want to see who the skirt behaves."

I moved as Madeleine walked around me, She stopped behind me.

"Thank you, Tom. You have been a great help as my dressmaker's dummy. I thought I might have a problem with the crinoline. Unlike the others which have plastic removable hoops that can be coiled up, I thought the steel springs on this one might straighten. But my sisters and their boyfriends found a solution."

Madeline's fingers reached inside the back of the skirt's waistband and into the crinoline's waistband. She gave a slight tug.

Suddenly all the metal hoops of the crinoline sprung inwards, tapping my arms against my sides. I was a sheathed and bound parcel. The folds of the heavy skirt slumped around me. I opened my mouth to object but Madeline forced the knot in a middle of a scarf into my mouth and tied it tightly around my head. She lifted the lined bodice and zipped it up to the high neckline.

I was tightly secured from shoulders to knees, gagged and blindfolded inside the bodice of Madeleine's dress.

"Now you really are my dummy, Tom. My trapped, wrapped, and bundled April Fool dummy. My crinoline is an effective trap, isn't it? Enjoy your captivity."

Her arms came around my head and pulled me back into her cleavage. A hand added to the scarf gag in my mouth.

"I enjoy making you helpless, Tom, but you know I love you. I'll get you out in a few minutes but before I do..."

I heard a zip opening before she unzipped the bodice hooding me and eased it down. She came in front of me. My eyes opened wide as her bare breasts moved towards my face before my nose was between them and she squeezed them around my head.

"I know you like these, Tom. They are part of the reward for being so cooperative and so trusting that I could make you an April Fool. Now?"

Madeleine removed my gag before filling my mouth with a warm soft breast. She sighed as I sucked and nibbled.

It took her ten minutes to extract me from my crinoline bondage. Shortly after that she was riding me on our bed -- the second part of my reward for being an April Fool.

We were slightly late with our shopping but we were both pleased with our progress with decoration that afternoon. That night it was my turn to ride Madeleine as I had the third reward for being her April Fool. If I am rewarded like that?

I would be an April Fool for Madeleine any day of the year.

Author's Note: Madeleine's crinoline was made with steel strips that would coil inwards. They were held out by slotting into a vertical steel strip. But half an inch lower were cut-outs. When Madeleine pulled the vertical strip upwards the ends, in their fabric tunnels, would contract, forcing the crinoline to a six-inch diameter roll. Those strips tightened around Tom, trapping him inside the crinoline.