Crestwood Academy for Young Ladies - Forced Fem Fantasy

Chapter Eleven: Elegance, Grace, and Poise

Dylan, Marcus, and Kyle stepped into the Etiquette Basics classroom together, scanning the room. The room was larger than their previous classrooms, with rows of polished wooden chairs arranged in neat lines. Unlike the other classes, there were no desks, just open space and mirrors lining one of the walls. It looked more like a dance studio than a classroom, which immediately made Dylan uneasy. His over-the-calf socks suddenly felt too warm under the skirt, and the tight feeling around his waist wasn't helping.

"Where's Aaron?" Marcus muttered, searching the room.

"Over there," Kyle whispered, nodding toward the far side of the room.

Aaron was seated with his arms crossed, staring straight ahead. His expression was closed off, tight-lipped, and his cheeks slightly flushed. Dylan caught his eye as they approached, and Aaron gave a quick nod, but it was clear he wasn't ready to talk just yet.

"Guess we'll have to wait until after class," Marcus murmured, glancing between them.

A stern-looking woman walked in, her hair tightly pinned back and glasses perched on the edge of her nose. She was tall, slender, and carried herself with an air of precision that made everyone in the room stand a little straighter.

"Welcome to Etiquette Basics," she said in a clipped tone, not wasting a second. "My name is Miss Abbot, and I will be teaching you how to behave, walk, sit, and move with dignity. The first lesson you must learn is that being a lady is not about being soft or passive. It's about commanding respect with grace."

Dylan shifted uncomfortably. He already felt on edge, and the rigid atmosphere wasn't helping. He glanced at the other students. Some of the girls—first-years by the look of them—sat perfectly straight, their knees together, hands resting in their laps, as if they'd been preparing for this moment their entire lives.

"Today, we'll focus on the basics of posture and movement," Miss Abbot continued. "These are crucial for how you present yourself to the world. You will learn to carry yourself with poise, elegance, and purpose. Every step you take must be deliberate. Every gesture, graceful."

The class remained silent as Miss Abbot motioned toward the mirrors. "Everyone, to the front. Line up."

Dylan and the others joined the line with some reluctance. Aaron stayed quiet, his expression unreadable as they all faced the mirrors. Dylan couldn't help but notice how out of place he felt standing there in his skirt, over-the-calf socks, and Mary Jane heels. The reflection staring back at him looked more like someone playing dress-up than anything else.

"First, we will focus on walking," Miss Abbot instructed. "A lady's walk should be smooth and fluid, never rushed or clumsy. You will lead with your hips, keep your shoulders back, and your head high. Chin up. No slouching. Your steps should be small, precise. Graceful."

She demonstrated, walking in a straight line with perfect elegance. Her back was impossibly straight, her steps so light they barely made a sound.

"Now you."

Dylan exchanged a look with Marcus, who seemed equally unsure about all of this. But they had no choice. One by one, the students began to walk, trying to mimic Miss Abbot's fluid movements.

When it was Dylan's turn, he felt like his legs had turned to rubber. He took a deep breath and took a step forward, keeping his shoulders back like she had said. But everything felt wrong—the skirt swished too much, and his steps felt awkward and forced. He caught his reflection in the mirror and winced. He didn't look graceful at all.

"Chin up, Diana!" Miss Abbot's voice snapped. "You're slouching! Do you want to walk like a hooligan? Again."

Dylan stiffened, lifting his chin higher and trying again. His face burned with embarrassment. This felt ridiculous, and he couldn't help but wonder what Aaron must have gone through earlier to make him so quiet.

Miss Abbot moved down the line, critiquing each of them in turn. "You, Maya. Your steps are far too wide. A lady's stride is delicate, refined."

Marcus swallowed hard, adjusting his steps, but Dylan could see the frustration building in his friend's face. Every attempt felt like another reminder of how out of place they were.

When it was Aaron's turn, Miss Abbot's gaze lingered longer. "Alena," she said, "if you think this is beneath you, think again. Straighten up, and walk with dignity."

Aaron's jaw tightened, but he complied, his steps rigid as he attempted to mimic the teacher's movements.

Miss Abbot continued her critique of each student, showing no mercy. "This class is not optional. You will learn to move with grace, or you will continue practicing until you do."

Dylan's legs were starting to feel stiff from the constant repetition. After walking, they moved on to sitting. Miss Abbot instructed them on how to sit properly—knees together, ankles crossed delicately beneath their chairs, backs straight.

"None of that lounging nonsense," she barked. "When you sit, it should be with purpose and dignity. A lady never slumps."

Dylan glanced at Marcus as they practiced sitting in their chairs. Marcus looked like he was about to fall off from balancing so stiffly on the edge of his seat.

By the end of class, Dylan's whole body felt exhausted, not from any physical exertion but from the sheer mental strain of trying to conform to this impossible standard. Miss Abbot's final instructions were about gestures—how to move their hands, how to place their feet, even how to lower themselves into a chair without making a sound.

"As you go through the rest of your day, remember: elegance, grace, and poise. These will be your guiding principles," she said sternly. "Dismissed."

Dylan, Marcus, and Kyle filed out of the classroom, meeting Aaron near the doorway. Marcus was the first to speak. "Dude, what happened earlier?"

Aaron glanced around to make sure they weren't overheard. "Let's talk somewhere else," he muttered, walking toward the hallway.

The others followed, eager to hear what had happened and equally relieved to be out of Miss Abbot's line of fire.