Frauleinstein

Chapter XI: Frauleinstein, Part II

Fräulein Stein spent the next several hours in her room, getting dressed. Now it is a tired cliché that a woman will take as much time as offered and more in order to prepare herself, however Fräulein Stein was no cliché. She was not lounging and taking her sweet time. No, she took several hours to prepare herself because she had no idea what she was doing.

She spent more than an hour and a quarter simply putting on a bra. The soft, satiny, cushioned cups of the feminine underthing at first mesmerized her. It was as if she had never so much as held one, and yet had often thought about doing so.

Once the initial fascination wore off (about twenty minutes) she was able to centre the whole operation using these bewitching landmarks. However the rest of the device was a confusing array of intersecting straps that twisted and pulled in all directions, refusing to divulge their secrets.

She actually managed to get the demonic device on at one point, and even had it done up behind her back. However, when she air-punched her self-congratulations, a sharp tug at the back of her head indicated she had managed to tangle her hair in the clasp. That took another ten minutes to undo, putting her straight back to the beginning.

Ultimately she had to completely remove the bra, fasten the clasp in front of her, and then pull it over her head like a T-shirt. She was fairly certain that there were a couple of twists remaining in the back, but she really didn't care at that point.

Undaunted, Fräulein Stein then turned her attention toward pantyhose. Now these alluring leg-liners can reduce the most seasoned veteran of the devilish devices to tears. Fräulein Stein ripped the waistband right off three pair before figuring out the proper technique to fit a three-foot leg into a one-foot tube. She figured that perhaps her undead strength might have played into some of her difficulties, but then, these fashion frivolities seemed so fragile she wondered how any woman would deal with them.

Two hours in and finally in her underwear, Fräulein Stein was ready to enter her enormous walk-in closet. Skirts, blouses, and dresses were organized by season, day versus evening, casual or formal, city versus country versus seaside versus yacht, even by colour.

Fräulein Stein understood none of this. She saw shirts, and things that were not shirts. And among the things which were not shirts, there was nothing that could be classified as pants. There were more clothes in this room than anyone could wear in a decade, and yet there was nothing like the T-shirt and jeans she had expected to find.

After much deliberation, she finally selected a loose-fitting white blouse and a blue pencil skirt. Not that she knew it was a pencil skirt, but some things she was finding she just had to go with. The selection of available shoes seemed to offer nothing with less than a three-inch heel, so she selected a random pair from the blue shoe wall and returned to her room to change.

Some time later Fräulein Stein was seated at her makeup table, scrolling through internet instructions on 'How to Apply Makeup', when there was a knock at her door.

"Come in," she called out. When she noticed Dr. Pretorius having some difficulty with the massive, detached oak door, she ran over to the entry in order to rescue him.

"Sorry about that," she said in embarrassment. "I had some trouble earlier. Don't worry though, I'll pay for it!"

"It is of no concern," replied the doctor, in awe as he watched the tiny teenager lift the solid oak door and set it aside as if it were cardboard. "We have been concerned for you. It has been some hours since we left you alone."

"I've just, you know, been having a lot of trouble," she told him. "Everything is just, like, totally weird. Like this makeup, it makes no sense to me."