24 August 2016

Departure from macho

By Bea

Much to my mother's disgust, I dropped out of college in my senior year.  One year later she was even more disgusted by the fact that I was still unemployed and, as she put it, still "sponging" off of her.  That's what

she said. In all truth, I'm sure that by that time she didn't mind.  As  she had always hated any kind of housework, the fact that I got to doing it pacified her more than somewhat.  As I had also become a more than

passable chef, she found it more and more acceptable - she just likes to complain is all.  I even think she enjoyed complaining about my pony-tail hairdo - the source of most of our arguments.

With her being a relatively successful real estate broker, we lived in a modernized farm house that she'd bought and restored while I was at college.  We were about a twenty minute ride to town which we both enjoyed. Her because it gave her time enough to think about her work while driving there, but not long enough to bore her.  I enjoyed it because it was far enough out that I didn't have to put up with a bunch of door-to-door salesmen, etc.

We both enjoyed the house itself. Both for the same reason - the quietness and the privacy.  As she explained "It may be a little too secluded for my type of business, but I sure love to relax here".  I had another little

perk though - the fact that business took her away quite often, and I had the house to myself.

I will admit that mother and I couldn't be more dissimilar.  She's a large, outgoing woman, very much into people.  Loves to joke around, and thoroughly enjoys a glass or two of Jack Daniels when she gets in at

night.  On the other hand, I'm slightly built, can't interact with people to save my life - somewhat scared of the opposite sex - do like a joke - but forget it minutes later.  Two small glasses of wine and I'm flying.  Have

a very strong tendency towards being a couch potato if you want to know the truth.

Have you ever noticed how a small incident can put your life onto a different path?.  Mother got into a minor car accident.  Mother was not wearing a safety belt.  Mother did break her right ankle - as well as

badly sprain her left wrist.  Mother then proceeded to make the next few weeks of my life a living hell.  This she did by having me drive her everywhere.  This not only disturbed my routine, her constant criticisms of my driving drove me batty.  Mind you, I'm the first to admit that I'm not a good driver - I get too nervous, but her constantly shaking head, her pursed lips, and her right foot constantly trying to brake - while on the passenger side yet, only managed to make me nervous.

For years she had been bugging me about the lack of a girlfriend in my life.  I kept pointing out that I was friendly with two of the young ladies that worked in her office.  She'd snort that they seemed like 'friends' not girlfriends - and I was never going to start making grandchildren for her, carrying on the way I was doing.  I was totally embarrassed by her frankness in this subject and generally avoided it whenever I could.  Finally, I guess, she got fed up waiting and made a date for me.

I was furious.  Came close to disobeying her.  She got the look on her face though that I knew meant a lot of trouble for me, so I caved in and agreed to meet the young lady she'd picked for me.  "You'll like her."  I was told.  "Just moved into the area.  I helped her rent her house a few months ago. Just found out that I knew her mother in college.  One of the sweetest, gentlest girls I ever knew.  If Linda - that's the girl's name, is anything like her mother, I'm pretty sure you'll like her."

I was nervous of the upcoming meeting with this young woman, but this description helped assuage my fears.  She sounded like maybe someone I could be friendly with - after all, you can't have too many friends, can you?

It had been arranged that she'd come and pick me up at the house.  Mother had explained that I'd been doing a lot of driving recently and was fed up looking at the steering wheel of a car.  "No sense in letting the girl find out what a lousy driver you are."  she explained.

It had started raining, but slightly, by the time that Linda came to pick me up.  I saw a red Chevy convertible - one of the old ones, with the sort of white scallop down the side, pull into the driveway in front of the house.

The girl who jumped out of the car didn't look like she was the 'gentle' type.  Leather jacket, red scarf over dark short, wavy, hair.  Blue jeans.  Looked like cowboy boots.  Gave the car a bad tempered kick, then did something.  The convertible top, lurched up and into place.  She seemed to spend a lot of time setting the locks that located it. As she walked up to the door, I could see her pull the scarf off her head and shake the rain from it with a bad tempered shake.  Nervously, I decided to let mummy answer the door.

I could hear a sort of muttering in the hall, and they came in together, laughing about something.  Right away, I knew this girl was no shrinking violet.  Confident in her walk and posture, very little makeup.  Nice, but firm, mouth.   Small nose.  Dark full eyebrows over brown eyes.  Physically, about the same as myself - a little taller in her boots.  A firm grip when she shook my hand at mother's introduction.

"Anderson?"  She asked.  "A kind of unusual first name, isn't it?"  She asked me.  I started to blush.

"Oh yes!"  Mother answerd quickly for me. "Been an Anderson in the family for a long time - but if he doesn't get a move on, he'll be the last."

I blushed again, as Linda laughed.

"A lot of my friends call me Andy"  I volunteered quietly.

A surprised look came over Linda's face.  "Amazing!"  She said.  "I was wondering when I'd meet my newest Annie."  She turned to my mother.  "This is fantastic!  I've never, ever, in my life not lived anywhere where I didn't have a friend called Annie - I sorta look on them as being good luck.."

"Andy!"  I said, as forcefully as I could.  "Andy!"

She lookd startled for a minute, but then grinned an apology.  "I'm sorry"  she said contritely  "but you do have a very soft voice you know.  I could have sworn you said 'Annie'"

Mummy looked down into the drink she was carrying in her hand.  "Sometimes.."  She started to say something, but caught herself in time.  Looked up.  "That's a helluva car you've got there.  Had it long?"

Linda beamed.  "Yeh!"  That's my pride and joy."  She turned to include me in her next comment, which was something about valves or cams, or something like that.  Mother shook her head.  "Don't talk cars to him.  Sees them as being things to get him from point 'a' to 'b', that's all."

Linda shrugged, and turned her attention back to mummy. "I'm having some problems with the top.  Keeps coming down at the worst times.  A real pain in the ass, I'll tell you.."

"Isn't that dangerous?"  I asked nervously.

She grinned.  "Nah!  Nothing to worry about.  It makes enough racket when it starts to misbehave that I have enough time to stop the car and get it back up without any problem..."

"Maybe we should call the date off?"  I queried.

She gave me a strange look.  "If you want."  She replied matter-of-factly  "But there's no problem, honest.."

Mummy snorted  "You're  not calling this date off Andy.  Just remember to be here in plenty of time to drive me to the airport tomorow."  She turned to Linda. "Got a trip I've got to make, so just make sure you have him home in plenty of time.."  She looked out the window.  "And it looks as if you'd better get going.  It's getting darker by the minute - we might be in for some heavy rain."

We left hurriedly, Linda opening the car door for me.  I was having a problem opening it, so she came to my side, and opened it with hardly any effort at all.  "Has a tendency to stick."  She said.

She took me to a restaurant on the other side of town, only a couple of miles from where she lived.  Under the amused grins of the female valet parking attendant, I was let out of the car door by Linda.  I felt as if I were being protected by her.  It was a strange feeling, but sort of enjoyable.  I noticed that the rain had got appreciably harder when we left the shelter of the car.

The restaurant was anything but busy, and was quite dark inside.  Nevertheless, a few of the waitresses seemed to recognize Linda, shooting shy smiles at her as we were shown to our table.  She didn't seem to notice them though.

It became almost immediately apparent that I was Linda's date - not the other way around.  She was very attentive to me - pulling out my chair, making sure that I got the menu that had no prices, being very solicitous of what I should eat and drink - finally taking over completely and ordering the meal for both of us.  She ordered a glass of blush for my before-dinner drink, and a Jack Daniels for her own.  She was certainly not shy around the waitresses, asking questions about the menu, recommendations etc., But they didn't seem to mind at all, fluttering about and being very, very helpful.

I suppose I should have minded, but I was used to being in the presence of a strong woman - even though this one was a lot more attentive to me and anything I had to say than mummy ever was.  Not that I actually said much.

She had had such an interesting life.  Only four years older than me, she had graduated early - magna cum laude no less, had actually started her own businesses a couple of times - "Lost my ass the first one, but haven't done bad since.."  she admitted, taking an appreciative sip of her drink as she did so.  She had also crewed on an Alaska - Hawaii boat race.  Some of the stories she told made me shiver - I would never dream of doing that kind of thing.  I've no memory for what we ate, I was so entranced by this new force in my life.  When her toes started stroking my leg under the table I was taken aback.  This was not, actually, my first ever date - but she was the first companion I'd ever been with that made the advances.  I couldn't help it.  I looked up at her and smiled shyly.

"Did you know you're blushing?"  She teased, leaning back in her chair a little, her toe now working it's way up to stroke my inner thigh.

I squirmed happily.  I hadn't been aware that I had been blushing, but now I could feel the heat rise in my face. I didn't answer.

"It's so cute!"  She whispered to me.  "Almost pretty."

I blushed even more.  She laughed, and put her hands over my right hand that I had lying on top of the table.  "I'm sure you and I will be the best of friends Annie.  Don't you think.."

Before I could react to her calling me Annie, she reacted for me - "Oh my god!  Did you hear what I called.. Oh!  I'm so sorry!  Please forgive me?"

She was obviously so sorry that I just shrugged it off.  She started talking again.  Sure enough, a few minutes later she called me Annie again - and with the same reaction.  Again, I accepted her apologies in good grace.

I had had a couple of glases of wine by this time and was feeling very flushed.  Totally captivated by her stories, the interruptions caused by all these apologies were distracting me from what she was saying.  Finally, about the fifth time, I waved my hand at her.  "Linda?  It's OK  I'm not offended.  You don't need to apologise all the time - honest."

She looked at me, astonishment all over her face.  "You don't mind being called by a girl's name?"

I hastened to correct any wrong impression.  "Well, normally I would, of course, but you did say to mummy that you'd had friends called Annie all your life.  I understand."

She put her hands over mine again.  "You're so sweet!  So understanding!   Just like the others!"

And I was Annie from then on, for a while at least - even in front of the waitress.  She was a pretty young thing.  Pert and with a bounce to her step.  She kept flashing glances at us.  Linda finally saw her.  "That young girl has a crush on you, I think.  Isn't it nice to see them at that age?  She's very pretty.  I'm getting quite jealous, I think.  Let's do something with her." And she made some suggestions.

I wasn't so sure that the glances were directed at me, but blushed some more at this indirect praise.  My mind really wasn't on what Linda was asking me to do then, so I went along with her.  When the girl next came by our table to check if we needed anything, Linda spoke up.  "My friend Annie here, was wondering about your uniform.  Does the company supply them for you, do you have to buy them, what are they made of?  That sort of thing?"

And, with Linda looking on, the girl answered all of these questions and more.  Had me feel the materials of the outer apron, the skirt, the blouse.  Showed me how well the hems were sewn in, had me crush the fabric of the skirt to check it's resiliency, and check the lace on the hem of the petticoat.

And it struck me - I was just another girl to her.  Naturally, I'd be interested in all the things she was telling me - while she was flirting with Linda!  Finally, I had to get away.

"Where are the restrooms please?"  I asked.  I actually thought for a minute that she wasn't about to let me go, but she remembered where she was.

"Along that hall there.  Second on the right."

I thanked her and started across the floor.  Heard Linda behind me.

"Anne?  She made a mistake.  That's the ladies she's sent you to."

I was incensed.  I had now gone from 'Annie' - which at least sounded like my name, to 'Anne' a most definite female name. I was too scared to take Linda up in it, so sent an indignant look back to the waitress instead.  She put a false smile of apology on her face.

"I'm so sorry ... Sir.  Don't know what I could have been thinking of.."  And she stared a challenge at me until I looked down!

"Oh.  That's OK"  I mumbled.

But, in the washrooms, the sound of the rain was now distinct, lashing against the small windows there with fury.  When I got back to the table, Linda was alone.  I had rehearsed what I was going to say.

"Linda?  I can't say that I like being called 'Anne'."

She shook her head.  "But you said you didn't mind.."

"But.. That was different.  That was 'Annie'."

She shook her head some more.  "I'm really sorry.  I didn't mean to offend .. But after you said it was Okay? Well, I'm really.."

She was so truly repentant that I forgave her immediately.  This didn't lift her spirits though and, somehow, by the time we were through, I had accepted that it was now OK for me to be called 'Anne'.

"A much nicer name don't you think?"  She'd asked.  Weakly, I'd concurred so became 'Anne' openly for the rest of the evening.

We were about the last to leave.  Outside, it was obvious that the rain was now a full force storm.  The valet parker was going to get the car, but Linda stopped her.  "No honey.  That old car can get really balky in the rain.  You stall her and we'd be here all night."

"But we'll get soaked going to the car Linda!"  I wailed.

"Don't be silly Anne.  I'll go get the car.  You'll have to get down to the curb there - but maybe this young lady here can get an umbrella while I go get the car?"

The valet girl nodded.  Linda pulled her scarf out from her pocket - and proceeded to tie it around my hair!  Shocked, I tried to wave her off.  She addressed me sternly.  "Look Anne?  I'm gonna get soaked, no matter what. It won't help you much, but it'll help some, so stop this nonsense, OK?"

And, a minute or two later, the parking valet now openly addressing me as 'miss' I was led over to the car when Linda drove up.  And, even trying very hard to maintain some degree of masculine pride, I couldn't.  I let out little squeals of protest as some of the rain actually hit my forehead - it was so cold!  The two women smiled at each other as if to say 'she's a weak sister, eh?', I finally got in the car, and we drove off.

She had a blanket for me, a lovely soft mohair in soft pastels.  Gratefully, I cuddled into it's warmth.  Her arm snaked around my shoulder and pulled me into her.  I laid my head on her shoulder, and sighed happily.  She put the radio on.  It was full of news about the storm, phone lines down, electricity out and so on.  Idly, I wondered if mother was all right.

It wasn't five minutes later that my euphoria ended suddenly. I must have been starting to doze off when Linda's arm left me and she swore loudly.  I didn't know what to do.  A loud noise came from over my head and, seconds later, a shock of cold water hit me on the face.  I realized that the problem with the roof had started again.

As I woke to this conclusion, the car stopped totally and all the lights went out.  Linda reacted with a stream of profanity that would have won my mother's respect.  We were still protected by the car roof, but only a little as it hadn't had time to retract fully before all the power had died.  The weather outside was terrible, but it was clear that we couldn't stay in the car.

"You'll have to give me a hand Anne."  She said.  "Gotta get this heap to the side of the road before somebody hits us.  You take the wheel.  Put the car in neutral, and I'll push."

She went out into the storm.  I moved over into the drivers seat and steered it over to the shoulder when she pushed it.  She came back into the passengers side, puffing for breath.

"Jesus!  It's awful out there.  But hate to say it sweets, it looks as if our best hope is to head for my house.  It's only about five hundred yards away, I think - hard to tell.  But I can't think of anything else to do.  We can't stay here all night.  Any ideas?"

"No." I said helplessly.  "You don't think you can fix the car?"

"Not a hope."  She replied.  "Honest.  I'd go and get an umbrella, but I don't think I even have one here.  I'm pretty sure I left it at the office."

"Well.  If you think it's best..?"  I deferred to her.  She nodded.

"Just a sec then."  And took my lovely warm blanket and stuffed it into the opening between the roof of the car and the winshield.  "It'll help keep some of the rain out of the interior"  she explained. "Let's go, eh?"

She was right.  Her house wasn't far at all but we were abolutely, totally, drenched from head to toe by the time we got there.  I don't think I've ever felt so sodden in my entire life.  Naturally, I was miserable.  She, on the other hand seemed to enjoy the experience facing directly into the storm, her strong arm around my shoulders, helping me along.

"Wow!"  She said as she let us into the hall of her house.  "That was an experience, eh?  Why don't you just strip off all of your clothes here - I'll go get some towels."

She proceeded to follow her own advice, stripping her clothes off as she spoke.  I couldn't help but see her beautifully formed body as she did so.  There wasn't an ounce of shyness in her as she walked around naked in front of me.  I was a lot more tentative, but really had no choice.

The electricity was out, but there was some light thrown off from a fire in the living room.  She examined me in the semi darkness.  Put her hand on the underside of my upper arm.

"Gee but you're soft."  She said.  "Don't work out much, do you?"

I started blushing again.  "No."  I admitted.  "But you do, don't you?"

"Oh yeah."  She replied.  "Here.  Feel this muscle."  She crooked her arm, and offered the result for my inspection.  I touched it lightly.  The hardness was very impressive.  I got an erection that I couldn't hide.

Her teeth gleamed in the reflected light.  "Well, there's something not soft.  Hardbody's turn you on, eh?"  Then she laughed.  "First.  Lets get that ponytail of yours undone. It's cute but your hair'll dry a lot quicker if you do.  Then let me get you something to wear - you can't be very comfortable."  With that, she picked up our piles of wet clothing, and left the room, saying as she left  "Why don't you put some more wood on the fire?  Get some more heat in here.  There's a g... good fella."

While she was gone, I undid my ponytail, and shook my hair out.  Then I carefully put some of the logs onto the fire, avoiding the sparks that came off.  The wood must have been very dry, because it was already caught when she returned a few minutes later.

She was wearing a plaid robe, man's style,  tied at the waist.  She'd brought me a large towel and a terry robe.  I dried myself quickly, then picked up the robe.  Even in the half light of the fireplace I could see the pinkness of it, the rounded feminine lapels, the flared sleeves, and the length - down almost to my ankles.  I wasn't about to complain.  Gratefully, I slid my arms into it's warmth and comfort.  Stood placidly as she tied the sash around my waist, a small grin playing around the corners of her mouth as she did so.

I didn't argue too much when she went to a sideboard, then came back and  pressed a snifter of brandy on me.

"Just sip on that by the fire.  I'll run you a bath."

"I don't suppose we can call mummy?"  I asked.

She shook her head.  "Electricity's down.  Phones are down.  But don't worry.  If the rain lets up, I'll get out and fix the car in the morning - I'll get you home in plenty of time."

I shrugged.  Even mummy couldn't blame me.  It was totally out of my hands.  Linda gave me a quick smile and left the room.  I sat in a chair by the fire.

Basking in comfort now, my robe around me, the fireplace starting to give out more heat, a drink to warm my insides, I relaxed back in the chair.  I could hear the sound of water running.

"O.K.  Anne"  I heard her shout, "Bath's just about ready.  Better come on, before it gets cold."  Obediently, I got up and headed out of the room towards the sound of running water.

She must have got a candle from somewhere because out of the room, away from the fire, I could see a flickering light coming from an open doorway.  I could hear the sound of running water and, when I went in to the bathroom, saw Linda on her knees, swishing the water around to check the temperature.

I still had my brandy with me, so took another sip from the glass.  The motion gave my presence away.  She looked up.  "Hi Anne!  Strip off that robe and get your cute little tush into this water.  It's just about perfect.  Here, give that glass to me until you get in.  There, that's it!"

The water had a layer of bubbles that must have been six inches deep.  There was also a sweet, perfumy floral scent coming off the water.  Hesitating for only a moment - I was still shy of being naked in front of her, I handed her the robe and slid into the bath.  As she had said, it was just perfect.  Warm enough to make me hesitate a little, but wonderful after I was in a second or two.  She handed the glass back to me.  "Here.  Don't drink this too fast.  Just take it easy and relax.  I'm going to grab a quick shower.  Don't fall asleep, o.k?"

I grinned up at her and sank a few more inches into my perfumed bath.  Waved my glass at her.  "I'll call when I need you." I said grandly.  She laughed and flicked some of the soap suds that had adhered to her fingers at me and left the bathroom.  I saw that she had taken my robe with her.  Took it to be an oversight on her part.

I followed her instructions as well as I could, but gradually found myself slipping into sleep.  I finished the brandy and put the glass on a small shelf at the side of the bath.  Lay back for what seemed like a second, then came to with a start to find Linda standing above me.  "C'mon sleepyhead"  she said gently.  "Lets get you outta there, Linda will dry you all nice.  C'mon doll."  She held a large towel up invitingly.  I clambered out of my bath and into her embrace.  She wouldn't let me dry myself, so I huddled sleepily against her body as she rubbed me all over with the soft towel.

I wasn't quite ready for her when the towel was done with and dropped to the floor.  In the flickering candlelight I then saw her advance on me with what seemed to be a round box in one hand and a fluffy 'something' in the other.  She then started dabbing at me with the powder applicator - for that's what the fluffy thing was - and replenishing it with powder from the box.  The smell of perfume filled my nostrils.  "Linda?  What are you doing?"  I protested.

"Making you smell pretty.  What d'you think silly?  Now stand still!  There that's it, all done.  Now, let's get your nightie on.  Hold your arms out in front of you, and I'll help you get it on."

I nearly fainted.  All the treatment of the night - the constant feminizing of my role, the girl's name, the perfumed powder had just been the lead-in to the satin nightdress she was holding out in front of me.  I looked at her doubtfully.

"C'mon Anne."  She said gently.  "Don't make a fuss now.  Be a good girl."

"Please Linda?"  I asked softly, but raised my arms as ordered.  She smiled and started putting the satin tunnel over them, and pushing my head into the opening.  I felt the material cascade silkily over my shoulders and down my body, the hem coming to a rest just above my instep.

"There!  Doesn't that feel nice?  Here, look in the mirror.  I know the light's not very good.  But look at how pretty you look."  She turned me to look into a mirror mounted on the back of the door.  Put a possessive arm around my waist.  Fluffed my hair a little with her hand.

The soft light didn't give much detail but, with my hair down about my shoulders now, a long satin nightdress with puffy sleeves at the shoulder, a scooped neckline shirred in lace, and the skirt of the gown falling almost to the floor, I did make a very feminine picture standing there in the protection of her masculine arm.  She gave me a firm pat on the rear.  "Now.  Aren't you going to thank Linda for the nice nightdress?"

"Eh?"  I said numbly.

"Say 'thank you Linda for the pretty nightgown'"  she commanded.

I mumbled my thanks to her.

"She doesn't sound very grateful to me"  she said as if to herself  "but let's see if she's any happier with the pegnoir.  Here Anne, try this on, why don't you..?"

Amd in an unresisting haze I put on the diaphonous, filmy, chiffon robe over my satin nightgown.  Then thanked her for that - and the fluffy slippers with the low heels.  Last, but not least, at her request I applied a coat of lipstick to my lips using the mirror.  I wasn't prepared, but wasn't too surprised when she swept me up into her arms and carried me back into the living room and the couch by the fire.

She didn't spend long with me.  Seemed to know that she was totally beyond any previous experience that I'd ever had.  Kissed and fondled me until I writhed, then lifted - slowly - the hem of my nightgown until I was bared underneath her. Brought her body over mine, then sat on top of me.  Placed her moistness over my standing erection, then moved slowly up and down on me until I came with a shudder that convulsed my whole body.

I don't know if I was drunk, exhausted, or confused - or a mixture of all three.  She carried me to the bedroom, then left me alone for a chance to clean myself up, and climb into bed.  A few minutes later, she joined me.  We didn't speak.  Content, I cuddled into her warmth.

During the night, she made love to me again.  This time I was a lot more attuned to my place in the scheme of things, and played my feminine role with more expertise. I felt even more sure of this when I woke up the next morning and found with a stab of dismay that she wasn't in bed beside me.  I really didn't think anything at all of pulling on my pegnoir when I went through to look for her in the kitchen - it seemed natural now.  She wasn't there, but a pot of instant coffee sat warming on the gas range.  Gratefully, I poured a cup and tracked through the house looking for her, my cloud of chiffon floating over my satin gown.

The morning was bright and sunny, all traces of the night's storm gone.  There were remembrances of course:  some broken tree branches in the driveway, some puddles.  I tried the lights and the phone.  Both were still dead.  Somehow, I wasn't too concerned about mummy.  I seemed to have acquired a new mistress I thought - one who would be more than capable of taking care of me.

The front door opened and Linda came in, hair tousled, eyes bright.

"Morning Anne.  Isn't it lovely out?  Did you sleep well?"

While speaking, she came to me and gave me a kiss, her hand caressing my back as she did so.

"Oh yes!"  I replied, warming to her touch.  "Slept great.  Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"I've already had one"  she replied, "but another won't do any harm, I guess."

I poured her a cup - she took it black.  "Been at the car?"  I asked.  "Can you fix it?"

"Yes. And yes"  she replied.  "Matter of fact, it's back here at the house."  She looked at the clock.  "I was down there an hour ago.  Got the roof down, but it'll have to stay that way until I get a new part - and I'll need a little doohickey to fix the electrical problem that we had last night.  It should be easy though, I can pick them up going through town while I'm taking you home."

"Oh?  Will the car go OK?"  I asked.

She grinned and shook her head. "Yeah.  But it's chancy.  Have you tried the phones?"

I nodded. "Yes.  But they were dead a few minutes ago"

"Chances are that your mother's cut off as well."  She thought out loud.  "And if she is, she can't call a taxi to get her to the airport.  What time's her flight again?"

"One thirty."

"Oh, plenty of time then.  Like to wrassle up some breakfast?"

"Sure.  Anything you fancy?"

"Nah.  Can't have you cooking in that outfit.  Some toast will be fine.  I'll go and grab a quick shower.  Back in a jiffy."

I made some fresh coffee and set the table.  Had the toast nice and warm for her when she got back.  She looked terrific.  Jeans, blue shirt type blouse, leather boots.  She smiled when she saw the set table.  "I'm not used to being looked after like this.  Nice.  But Anne?  Can I ask a favor of you?"

"Of course."  I replied happily.

"I know I sound like a fuss budget, but you do look kinda mussed.  Would you go and comb your hair a little?.."

"Oh sure!"  I said.

"And freshen up your lipstick?  It's almost all gone."

I was embarrassed all over again.  Her requests made me only too aware of my feminine clothes and behaviour.  I hesitated.  She looked at me calmly. Blushing, I went back to the bedroom, gave my face a wash, combed my hair - put on some fresh lipstick.  She just smiled at me when I got back to the table, mouthed a 'thank you' at me.

I had some coffee and toast with her, but started to look nervously at the clock.

"What's the matter honey?"  She asked.

"Well I can't  possibly wear the clothes I had on last night.. Was hoping you'd maybe go and get some clothes for me.  Explain to mummy why we're late.."

I saw the blank expression on her face, and my words tailed off.

"Well that seems kinda silly, doesn't it?"  She asked.  "There's tons clothes here you can wear - and just suppose my car broke down while I was doing all of that running around?  How'd your mother get to the airport?  Think she'd be happy with either of us?"

I considered what she was saying.  "Well .. Maybe, I mean if you had some pants.. A blouse something like you're wearing?"

She was looking at me, open mouthed.  Then she smiled.

"You must be joking Anne.  These are myclothes, and I don't lend my clothes to anybody."

I plucked at my pegnoir sleeve nervously.  " But what about this robe .. This nightgown.  Aren't these yours?"

She nodded reluctantly.  "In a manner of speaking, I guess so.  See, mum is a buyer for a department store.  Keeps getting all these great deals - on clothes I wouldn't think of wearing.  I usually collect them for a while, then give them to the goodwill.."

"But what's wrong with them?"  I asked, puzzled.

"Shit!  Can't you see?  They're so damn feminine!  I wouldn't be caught dead in them!"  She said, seemingly amazed that I'd even think to ask such a question.

"But, I'm a man,"  I said.  "So how come you think I should wear them?"

She shook her head, smiling.  "But you're a sissie."  She said kindly, as if the answer should be obvious to me. "Sissies keep house for their 'mummy's'- and like to dress up in pretty clothes.  They don't mind being called by girl's names.."   She was walking towards me all the time she was speaking and, as she reached me, took me in her arms.  Whispered softly in my ear  "and, guess what?  They're very good at doing what they're told to do by big strong girls like me.  Now.  Don't you think you're a sissie, Anne?  C'mon now.  Tell Linda that you don't like your satin gown, and your pretty robe.  C'mon now."  She kissed me.  I shuddered in a kind of fear, but didn't answer.

"See?  You like them just fine!"  She said playfully.  "So let's go and pick you out some nice clothes to go home in."  She started walking me along the hall, back to the bedroom.

"Please Linda.."  I started, but she put a finger gently over my mouth.

"Shush!"  She said.  "Now listen to me.  I'll let you pick out what you want, but I have some rules that you might want to think about while you're making your choices.  Want to hear them?"

I nodded obediently, and she took her finger away from my lips.

"No pants of any description, no pantyhose - just garter belts and nylons.  You'll need to pad your bra, but I don't want you to be ostentatious about it.  You don't need to wear high heels - but at least a medium heel. Eh?  - I think some of mine will fit you.  Once you get your lingerie on - nice lacy stuff now - put your robe back on, and call me.  I'll make you up and do something to your hair."

I shook my head, but very slowly, terror driving me to argue.  "But Linda.. I can't .. What will mummy..  Oh dear... Must I Linda?"

"Look, you silly little goose,"  she said kindly  "You have to borrow some ladies clothes to go home in.  Right?"

"I guess so."  I admitted.

"In a car that's open, with the roof down.  Right?"

I nodded.

"So.  Do you want to look like a man in girl's clothes when I stop at the dealers for the parts - or look like a girl waiting for her friend?"

I couldn't speak.  The horror of what she was saying crashing through my defences - she was going to take me into town while she bought her auto parts!!  By being silent, I lost my chance.  By this time, we had reached the door to the bedroom.  She pushed me gently  "The pretty lingerie is in the bottom drawer there - the outerwear for you is in the right hand side of the closet.  Hurry now Anne.  We don't have all day."  With that, she closed the door behind me.

In a kind of dream state, I went and explored the areas that held the clothes for me.  The drawer held a lot of pastel-hued frothy lingerie, folded in what looked like 'sets', each set containing panties, bra, garter belt, then slips of various lengths, some full , some half - and camisoles.  Packets of nylon stockings were stored down one side of the drawer.

The closet held what she had described - feminine clothing.  There was one pant suit, but the pants were of a silky material, and very large, with an outrageous floral design.  They were more feminine than some of the dresses!

It didn't matter anyway, I thought.  Linda had said "no pants", and I wasn't in any frame of mind to challenge her.  Slowly, I made my choices from the two areas.

The lingerie I picked was a sort of pale salmon color, lace edged.  The panties were briefs, and the set contained a half slip - quite short - and a camisole.  I picked a silky blue blouse with a shirt front, but large lapels, and long full sleeves.  A black skirt of a sort of heavy silk (turned out to be gros-grain later) that zipped at the back.

I undressed and showered.  Powdered myself again - didn't see any harm in it now.  Then started getting dressed. I'd thought that the fastening of the bra and garter belt might give me trouble, but I had no problems whatsoever.

A few minutes later, totally ensconsed in my new lingerie, I searched for shoes.  Found a pair of dark patent leather that weren't too high in the heel - actually quite comfortable too.  I padded my bra with a couple of silk scarves I found then, taking a deep breath, kicked the shoes off, put my robe on, and called out for Linda.

She was most complimentary about my choices.  I blushed with pleasure at what she was saying.  I blushed some more as she made me up, teasing me unmercifully as she applied the various cosmetics - the base, blusher, eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick - asking me how my 'mummy' would like me now.  I tried to object when she glued long red false nails over my own.

"So?  We break down and I've to get a tow truck.  A girl like you're gonna look like with no nails?  Don't be crazy!"

After that, she took a battery operated curling iron and crimped my hair into some waves at the front.  "We'll put a scarf on you later.  Shouldn't look too bad"  she explained.

Then I was getting into my skirt and blouse, ashamed again when she pointed out how my pretty underwear showed underneath the blouse. At her instigation, I put on a pearl necklace with earrings to match, then a sort of chunky bracelet and a couple of costume jewelry rings.

She gave me a light, silky, anorak type of thing to wear as a jacket over my outfit, then tied my hair with a a light blue scarf that tied under my chin.  Then she gave me a pair of wraparound sun glasses.  Through them, I stared at the woman that faced me in the mirror.

"Just think how nice I could have you looking with a real pretty dress and some time."  She said, grinning.  I gulped.

The last item of my wardrobe was a handbag.  "Ever see a woman without one?"  Was all it took to convince me.

The car started up just fine.  At first I was terrified, but sitting on the seat beside her, her arm around my shoulder again, I started to relax.  It didn't take us long to get back into town.  She parked in the small lot beside the auto parts store, and I sat in the car for what seemed like an eternity.

And then one of the young ladies that worked for mummy passed by.  Her eye was probably caught by the car first, but I could sense her curiousity in me.

For a terrible second, I thought she was going to come and talk.  Did the only thing I could.  Opened my handbag and took out my lipstick.  Pretended to be totally engrossed in my reflection in the rear view mirror while I carefully applied a new coating.

"My!  Aren't we a quick learner."  I heard Linda's voice as she got in the car.  I took my eyes from the mirror and only Linda was there - the girl was gone.  Linda obviously assumed that I was just being feminine.  I didn't think I stood much chance of explaining, so just closed my lipstick tube up and put it back in my bag.

She'd got the parts she needed to fix the car.  "I can do it at your house.  We'll have plenty of time."  She said, looking at her watch.  "It's what?  A half hour at most to the airport from there?  It's only eleven right now.  We should be at your house in fifteen minutes - I'll need ten minutes tops to replace the parts.  Plenty of time!"

I sighed, a sort of fright taking over me.  In a short while my mother was going to see her son totally dressed and made up as a woman.  Everything that had happened could be explained, but it suddenly seemed that, surely, there must have been other choices open to me.  I just couldn't seem to think clearly about what they were though. The quicker I could get back into my own clothes, the better, I thought.  Might get my thinking back into some sort of logical order.  I grinned to myself - maybe I was a 'natural' female.  Put me in women's clothes and I became the prototype 'bimbo', incapable of thinking for herself.

"Anne?"  I heard Linda ask.  I shook myself out of my thought stream.

"Yes?"  I replied.

"Want you to do something for me honey.  O.K?"

"Of course Linda."  I said softly.

"You're comfortable in these shoes?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact I am."  I answered.

"Good! I thought so.  You were walking fine in them back in the house."

She paused.

"But what does that have to do with what you want me to do?"  I asked.

"Well.. I don't want you, all of a sudden to discover that you've got problems in them - like wobbling around.  That sort of thing."

"But why would I do something like that?"

"Well... You might not want your mummy to think that you're too good on heels.  Might give her some ideas, you know?"

And I saw what she meant.  I couldn't show any vestiges of masculinity at all - not even being unable to walk in heels.  I shuddered. What was mummy going to say?

We parked out front.  "Just stay there Anne." Linda said.  "I'll get the door for you."

Mummy had heard the car drive up, and had come out onto the porch.  I guess she'd been expecting Linda - but obviously didn't know who the hell I was.

"Where's Andy?"  She called out.

Linda didn't answer.  Just opened the car door for me. Handbag in hand, I slid out from the car, and straightened my skirt a little.

"I'm here mummy."  I called out weakly.

I saw her mouth literally fall about four inches.  Then she laughed.  "It wasn't hallow'een last night by any chance, was it?  Or did I miss something?"

"Honestly mummy?  There's an explanation.." I started.

"You can tell her later Anne.  Let's get in the house now."  Linda suggested firmly, taking my arm.

Mummy was transfixed at the doorway, but recovered enough to step aside to let us in.

"Must have been a helluva storm right enough.  Looks like it blew my son into my daughter."  Mummy laughed.  "By god Andy!  You make a nice looking girl.  I'd never have suspected.."

"I call her Anne"  Linda said slowly and deliberately.  "Don't like Andy.  So, if you don't mind, d'you think you could get used to calling her that?"

She turned to me  "How's about wrassling up some lunch hon?  I'm starving."

"But I'll need to change, Linda."

"Later dear.  Right now, put an apron on to cover up your blouse and skirt, and make some lunch for all of us, eh?"

She had a look in her eye that warned me from making any argument.  Meekly, I went into the kitchen and started preparing the table for lunch.

I could hear some talking going on between the two of them.  At first it was low, but then I heard them laugh together.  When I called them in to eat, all indications of any tension between them were gone.

After lunch, Linda went out to the car to effect the repairs.  Mother came into the kitchen where I was doing the dishes.

"That Linda's quite a girl"  she said admiringly.  Then she looked at me archly  "or do you see her as a guy?"

I blushed.  Changed the subject.  "Well.  That's the dishes done.  I'd better get upstairs and change.  It's almost twelve.  We'd better start thinking about getting you to the airport."

"Linda know you're gonna change clothes?"  She asked.

"Well .. She said I could do it later - and it's later, isn't it?"  I parried.  "I mean I can't be walking around like this all day."  In spite of my words, I was starting to have the strangest feeling.

"Maybe I'd better go talk to her."  I said carefully.

"Might be a damn good idea - Anne."  Mummy said, laughing again.  "I have the feeling that you'd better not show too much independent thinking around the bold Linda - you could find yourself over her knee pretty quick, I think."

I took my apron off.  Hung it up, then went out to talk to Linda.  She was just finishing up.  "Hi honey"  she said cheerfully.  "All fixed.  Just let me get cleaned up, and we'll get mummy dearest to the airport."

I tried to act nonchalent.  "It'll only take me a minute or so to.."

"To do what?"  She asked, puzzled. "If you're talking about moving your mother's luggage to the car, you can take the little cases.  But leave the bigger ones for me - they'll be too heavy for you."

"Ah .... I was actually meaning to go and change.." I stammerd.

"What for?" She replied.

"Well.."

"Anne?  Just stop being so silly.  I don't have enough time that I can stand around here, talking nonsense with you.  If you want to change, you can do it when we get back to the house."

"I've to go to the airport looking like this?"  I said weakly.

She examined me.  "Well. Your makeup needs a touch up, but other than that, I can't see that you need do anything.."

The three of us left for the airport shortly after this.  I'd freshened up my makeup and had the anorak, scarf, and sunglasses back on.  I sat in the front in the passenger seat.  Linda made me stay there while she unloaded mummy's luggage at the kerb.  Mummy came and leaned into the car.  Gave me a kiss.

"See you when I get back Anne.  Be good."

Linda said her goodbye as well then jumped back in the car. She had me put my head on her shoulder after we left the busy airport.  I settled into her comfortably.

Then, sudenly I saw that we were not heading back to the house.

"Where are we going Linda?  I think you missed the turnoff."

"I'm going to the house."  She said  "where do think?"

"But the house is back that way.."  I said, puzzled.

"No.  Your house is back that way.  My house is this way."

"But you said I could change when we got back to the house..."

"That's right.  I did, and you can.  There's all sorts of pretty clothes you can put on there, don't you remember?"

I could see now what was happening.  It was going to take a while for me to get any chance of changing back into more masculine garments.  I sighed and relaxed.  "You want me to stay with you until mummy gets back, don't you?"  I asked.

"Z'actly!  Thatagirl!"  She laughed. "Then, when she gets back, I'll move in with you guys.  See, she didn't want to give up her housekeeper and I don't want to give up my girlfriend.  This seemed like the best compromise.  Don't you think?  See, by the time she gets back, you'll just be so pretty and feminine you'll never think about being a man again."

I thought about the contents of the closet back at her house.  "There's a nice pair of floral pants there Linda.  I know you said that I can't wear pants - but they're really pretty.  Can I try them on?"  I asked meekly.

"Not today."  She said firmly.  "Just dresses for a while.  Then we'll see."

22 August 2016

Belle Ringer

By Bea

Unlike a lot of today's women, I've always liked my mother. I never was the daughter she wanted. I'm more like my daddy I reckon --the visiting pro athlete who deposited me in mama's sperm bank, then found other matters of interest to pursue. Our family name, nor the town we come from, you won't hear from me. We sure ain't the rich side of the family, but mama still figures that the disgrace she put on our name by carrying a little bastard (me) into town, when there were still plenty who would have been glad to give me their names, was more than enough from our branch of the family tree.

She's shrunk a little, I guess, from the five seven or so that she used to carry. A well built woman, I've heard described as. Nothing close to my five- eleven mind you, but big enough to scare the hell out of me when I was little -- and probably now, if she were to put her mind to it. Not that she ever hit me. How come she didn't, I'll never know, but a sharp glance or a cautionary hand on my arm was all that she ever used.

I must have been a real pain in the ass to bring up. I was a girl, but surely hated being one. I liked the other girls just fine, they just seemed to think differently than me. I was always more comfortable in jeans than a dress. Always happier with a bat or a ball in my hands than needlework and, god help my poor mama, she did try to make a lady out of me, and failed miserably. She didn't fail at teaching me to go after what I want though -- and I think I've done pretty well at that. I think my husband, Ashley, is happy enough. We're well enough off, so I don't see that I've done much harm to anyone, which is more than can be said by some.

I know that, before she gave up on trying to make a lady out of me that my mother was trying like crazy to show the townsfolk - especially the snooty side of our family that, by god, she may not have acted like a lady, but she sure as hell knew how to raise one.

The only time I ever really raised hell with her was at Ashley's mother's yearly picnic. I just hated getting all gussied up in these southern belle dresses of organdy and ribbons, and normally, could talk my way out of wearing them. It never worked for that family picnic though, not until I'd hit the height that no self-respecting belle would ever admit to. Any way, there I'd be, acting "genteel" and watching the boys, these lucky little shits, have a great time.

Ashley, unlike his mother, wasn't a bad person. Truth be told, he was always one of the nicer boys. About two years older than me, he was taller than me until I was about eleven. By the time I was twelve, I was bigger and heavier than him. Being in a real snit at the picnic that year (my mother had got me into one of these huge crinolines) I got him off by himself, then got him into a wrassling match. I think we were both surprised at how easily I put him on his back. Astride him, I then pinned his arms to the ground with my knees, and pulled the hem of the skirt back up so that I could laugh at him. Then I saw a friend of his coming our way and got a great idea. "Here comes Terry Metcalfe, Ashley. Think he's looking for you?" His face got crimson at the thought of being seen, and he pleaded with me to let him up. "Nah." I said. "You don't want him to see you? Turn on your side and curl up into a ball." Saying this, I raised myself just enough to let him do this. Then, giggling like a fool, I spread my crinoline and petticoats all around him so that he was completely hidden, then lowered myself on top of him again.

As it so happened, Terry was looking for him, and asked me if I'd seen him. I said I hadn't, then talked to him for a minute or so, getting the biggest kick from feeling the body underneath me quivering in fear and humiliation. After Terry left, I started talking to Ashley. "You sorry?" I asked. "For what? C'mon, let me up." Came the muffled response from under my dress. "You sorry?" I asked again. I took him a little while, but he finally caught on. After he had admitted he was sorry for a whole mess of (invented) errors of his, and pleaded real prettily to be let up, I finally relented. When I finally let him stand, I was expecting him to maybe start fighting me again, but he didn't. I did notice that he had a very strange expression around his eyes. Being the shit that I was, I didn't even think any more about it, as I found some unattended mint juleps later on and got myself a little tipsy.

The years slid by in softball, basketball, track, swimming, and I had got a pretty good name for myself in sports by the time I was a senior in high school. I had learned one thing to my sorrow. I was the best girl athlete for miles around, but was no match for even the boys in the middle of the athletic pack. This drove me crazy for a while, but I had found a way of getting back at the male sex about the time I was seventeen.

I'd read this article about a couple of girl students in California. Seems they were pretty big girls too, both interested in gender psychology. Got a date set up with a couple of the less aggressive boys, took them out for dinner, opened doors for them, drove them home, treating them just like gentlemen are supposed to treat ladies. By the time the date was over, they had the two boys sitting giggling together in the back seat of the car like a pair of girls.

The whole idea intrigued me. I brought the idea up as a joke to my best friend Thelma (a real raunchy broad, even in these days). She thought the idea was a hoot, and we decided to give it a try. She got Ken, I got David.

It went just like I thought. The boys never knew what hit them. At the drive-in I had my hand down inside his pants inside minutes. As my other arm was around his neck pulling him close to me, he couldn't even struggle. I kissed him, full on the mouth, and he came all over my hand. Halfway through the main feature, I pulled him to me, and repeated the performance. In the meanwhile, Thelma was treating Ken in exactly the same way. At one time, when we both had the boys firmly in our embrace, we even had a little talk to each other, over them, saying how 'cute' and how 'soft' - just like girls - they were. Both boys were real subdued after that. Could hardly look at each other in the eyes, it seemed like. I was driving so, after I dropped off Thelma and Ken, I drove David to a nice lonely lane, took him in my arms, pulled his pants down and mounted him. He struggled a little, but not very much.

In practically no time, I found myself very popular with a certain type of boy - the small uncertain ones who liked to pretend they knew all the answers. I became adept with silk handkerchiefs, and once I got my hands on them, many of them lost any pretense they had at being macho for a long, long, time - at least around me.

Then the family picnic came around again. By this time, mama had quit worrying about my clothes, so I was able to go in a comfortable short pleated skirt and school sweater. I hadn't seen Ashley for about two years as he had been at college the year before, and couldn't make it. Turned out that he was now a drop out. Anyway, I was shocked when I saw him. He was so goddam tiny!

I looked at him, and I knew! So help me, I knew! I remembered the look on his face, the time I had put him down. To prove it to myself, I whispered in his ear that I had a secret to tell him. He got this condescending look on his face that I wiped off the minute I got him alone. I put an arm around him, pulled him in tight, and kissed him full on the mouth. He fought me, just for a second, then his mouth opened and I was in. My tongue roaming aggressively inside his mouth, I felt him start to buckle at the knees.

I let him go then, knowing my prey, ignored him completely for the rest of the day. I think he worried at first what I might do to him. Then I think he worried that I wouldn't do anything at all. Anyhow, he was smart enough to make up to mama. On the way home, she couldn't stop repeating how surprisingly nice Ashley had turned out. She guessed, I think, that I came into it somewhere, but was smart enough not to ask any questions.

Sure enough, two nights later, here comes the bold Ashley in his brand new Buick roadster ( I wonder what his mother would have given him if he had graduated?) with one of their cook's famous pecan pies. Mama made a big fuss over him. He was talked into sitting on the porch with us, as we ate slivers of the pie. Naturally, he sat beside me on the porch, so I gave him a little taste of what I was sure he had come for.

As it got dark, mama started to doze a little. Not sleeping mind you -- just starting to make pauses in the conversation, if you know what I mean. My hand found his thigh, and I felt him stiffen with surprise. Then, mother slightly dozing in front of us, I pulled him under me a little, got my hand inside his pants and had him come in just a few moments.

Initially, I think he was disgusted in the passive role he played, and stayed away for about three days. I'm sure that when he did return, it was to get back some semblance of his male pride. It took me only a moment to have him forget that nonsense. After a month or so it was amazing to me just how submissive he could be. I had figured on it of course, but had decided to take it in easy stages.

Then one night, I went into the next phase. I had set it up perfectly. My room was a mess, I had some ironing to do, and some buttons to sew on a blouse. I had worked on mama until she had grounded me until these chores were done. When Ashley came over, I whined and cried until I had everybody on edge. Finally, I suggested to him that if he'd do my chores for me -- then I'd be very, very, grateful.

He blushed when he finally was fool enough to volunteer. He blushed even more, a few minutes later, standing in front of mama, wearing one of her frilliest aprons with me explaining why he felt that I needed to see Thelma, and that he had offered to do my chores to get me off the hook. Mother tried to look aghast at this development, but there was, I thought, a glint of malice in her eye at seeing the son of her arch enemy brought to such depths. "Danielle! You can't expect poor Ashley to do your chores" (did I still see a glint of enjoyment in these eyes?) "Don't see why not" I retorted "You don't mind, do you Ashley?" He blushed, fingering the frills of the apron skirt "No. But I'd just as soon not..." "Not what?" I growled. "Let the poor boy finish" mama said. "Not what?" I repeated ominously. "Wear this.." He faltered. "She makes me wear them." I explained patiently "and your clothes are a lot more expensive than mine - and need the protection." I added. "But he's a boy" mama said, rubbing it in a little, I thought. "If you've a boy's apron, I guess he can wear that" I conceded. "If you don't, that one suits him as well as it does me." I decided to nail it down, so stared at him coldly. "I'm getting awful tired of this. Either do my chores for me like you promised, or go home! Here!" I continued, pretending impatience "Give me my apron. I'll do my own chores!"

He backed away "No Danny, please. Go on and see Thelma. I know you really need to see her. Go on. Honest, I don't mind." Grinning inside, I allowed this to persuade me. I set off for Thelma's, telling them that I wouldn't be long.

I was gone about two hours. He was just finishing sewing the buttons on the blouse, and looked a lot more at home in the apron by that time. He did blush when mama raved about how well he'd done the chores, and how quickly he'd learned to sew. "A lot quicker and neater than you ever did" she commented.

A month or two later, she had ceased to be impressed though, by that time I guess, Ashley flitting around our house in a frilly apron, doing my chores, wasn't so much of a novelty. I've heard that clothes make the man. It seems true enough to me, though in Ashleys case I think they were his un-making.

Naturally, I rewarded him for his efforts by treating him more and more like my girl. If mama was out, I'd get him in the flounciest apron I could find, then fondle him till he about lost his mind. I started calling him "Dolly' or "Pussy". He actually cried a little one time when I called him "Alice", though he was back for more the next night. Naturally, I started pressing it a little more. One night, I was playing his organ with some thing other than the normal handkerchief in my hand. "How's this doll ?" I asked. He moaned in delight, practically swooning into my arms. "How'd you like it like this all the time ?" I asked. "Oh,...ni.i.c.e" he moaned, as he came.

Afterwards, I reminded him of his comment when I handed him a dozen pair of assorted pastel, satin panties. He blushed. "But why ?" He murmured. "This way, I don't have to carry something all the time" I told him firmly, "Anyway, don't you like them? I was sure you would". It took him about a week to realize that, if he didn't wear the panties there was no fun forthcoming.

About then, Thelma came out of the closet, with a little cutie called Mary for a girlfriend. Looking back, it seems incredible that no-one cottoned as to what was going on between them, but there again, the South was never considered as a bastion of advanced thinking to my knowledge. Not in those days anyway.

The four of us got to hanging around together quite a lot, with the roles being pretty well defined. Thelma and I were the guys, Ashley and Mary were the supporting female roles. I started calling him 'Ceel'. I'm pretty sure that at first he was too scared to ask why, just in case he didn't like the answer.

At the same time, his curiosity had to get the better of him. One night, he started joking around in front of Thelma and Mary. "She calls me Ceel 'cause with some tea in me, I become da da S.T.E.E.L " he sang, and flexed his puny little muscles. We all laughed, especially me. "You almost got it!" I chortled "..Almost". Emboldened by my good humor, he had to ask "But, really. Why do you call me Ceel?" "You remind me of someone I used to like a lot" I answered. "I know! I know!" Thelma blurted "But you've got the name wrong Danny, it was 'Sill' Bromley..In the seventh grade..Right?"

"Wrong" I said coldly. "Sill was a real tearabout. Do you see any resemblance between these two: Ceel here and Sill Bromley?" Ashley butted in impatiently "Well, who then?" He asked. I stared at him mockingly "Do you really want to know?" He was in too deep. He'd made an issue of it. Now he couldn't back off. He nodded.

Staring right at him, I answered "I had a friend in sixth grade. Her name was Celia Graves. You look almost like her. At times you act just like her. I called her 'Ceel'. I call you Ceel. Thelma laughed "Wasn't she the one who always wore these little white organdy dresses?.. Yeah! I remember her now. Now that you mention it, put him in one of these little dresses and they'd almost be twins."

But it was Mary who capped the whole episode. While his face was still flaming (it isn't the done thing to ever intimate that a boy could ever wear a dress) she linked her arm into his. "I just hate nicknames too" she said firmly. I think that Celia is a nice name. You don't mind if I call you Celia now and then ..?" And with that, she led him off like a lamb. Another episode in his transformation happened when he told us that his mother was getting anxious to meet the 'mystery' girl he had been spending so much time with. She'd heard rumors ".. About such a pretty little thing ..." We couldn't figure what the hell she was talking about at first. Then it dawned -- she was talking about Mary!!! And to a certain extent, it made sense. You see, when the four of us walked around together, we were something like an old married foursome. The 'guys' up front -- the 'gals' at the back. Thelma and I were buddies from way back and Ashley and Mary made such a lovely couple. It was easy to see how anyone could misunderstand.

When Ashley added that his mother had seemed very pleased that it was a girl he was going with, he'd got quite upset and asked her what she was talking about. She'd stammered out that "..Recently.. He'd started to show some...unmanly.. characteristics" Ashley laughed when he said this, but I was concerned. I don't think he realized that he was starting to come across in a feminine manner. He wasn't 'swish' like one of these gays -- he was just beginning to come across like a natural girl in a lot of ways.

I started thinking. If Ashley were to take Mary home as a 'friend'' it would be no less than the truth and, might give me a little more time to get my plans converted into action. To tell the truth, I had every intention of marrying him -- but I was going to do it in the way that I wanted. If his mother got suspicious too soon, it might wreck everything.

"I've got a great idea" I announced "Take Mary home with you. You don't need to say anything other than that you're friends. She'll think that you're a couple.." "You and me. We're a couple. Why should I lie about it?" He interrupted. "She doesn't like me." I said honestly. "This way, we'll have a little more time to figure out how to tell her that we're a couple."

I liked the fact that he was unwilling to lie to his mama, but I kept pushing the fact that he and Mary were actually close friends. Any assumptions that his mother cared to draw.. And so on. Finally he relented. Of course, he didn't know that I had bribed Mary into insuring his mother thought the way I wanted her to. I had also given her a little tape recorder to see if it would catch any of the conversation.

The ruse, and the recorder, both worked like charms. His mother was so glad to see a pert young thing like Mary, that I could practically hear wedding bells in her voice. Mary never told a single lie but lured his mama on with little bits of truth that she swallowed, then made mouthfuls of in her own mind. I did hear something else on the recorder though. As the afternoon wore on, Ashley started to sound more and more like Mary. He was quickly losing all signs of masculinity, even around his mother. It was time I moved into my final phase, I thought.

At home, I started treating him dreadfully, especially when mama was around. Mind you, I made sure that he was recompensed in the way that he liked when we were alone -- I certainly didn't want to lose him at this stage. I had him tidy up after me, clean my room, dust and vacuum the house, do my washing and ironing, all under a constant barrage of fault finding and criticism. As I knew she would, mama started to voice her opinions of the way I was treating him, around the time that I started using him to run little 'personal' errands to the stores, run my baths for me, hand wash and iron my lingerie. "You're not her maid Ashley." She'd say "Don't stand for her nonsense." I always responded in exactly the same tone, and used the same words "I do not treat him like a maid." Would be all I'd say, and terminate the conversation.

This little talk must have been repeated twenty times over the next week. On a Saturday morning I was finally ready. I had him dusting my room, wearing a frilly apron and, for the first time, a frilled flounced dust cap. When mama saw his little get-up she was fit to be tied. "Danielle!! How can you possibly do this to this nice young man. You are treating him like a maid!"

"Mama" I said heatedly "I am not treating him like a maid." I turned to him. "I don't make you wear that apron or cap, do I? I don't treat you like a maid, do I?" In front of my mother, waving the feather duster around and wearing the absolute symbols of being a maid - the frilled apron and matching dust cap - and with all of her comments ringing in his ears, he really couldn't do much else. His face flamed, and he picked at the apron nervously "W.e.l.l l kinda..." He started.

I acted dumbfounded "You do think it!" I yelled. He had to stand his ground in front of mama, but started wavering "But I know you don't mean it..." I pretended to cry (what a performance!). I know that mama started to figure that something was wrong with this picture, right about then but it was too late. "Get out of my house!" I yelled "I never want to see you again!".

He protested tearfully, but I pulled the apron and cap off him, then threw him out, swearing that I'd never speak to him again.

I didn't respond to his pleading or entreaties for about four days. By that time, he was getting desperate. I finally relented and allowed him to come over. "You really hurt my feelings" I cooed, gently stroking his inner thigh. He snuggled into me "I'm really sorry Danny" he murmured. I pushed him away a little "But you still think it, I know you do" I whined.

"Well you are bossy" he admitted, but added hastily "But that's why I like you". I pushed him away further "I do not treat you like a maid!" I said (hopefully for the last time. I was getting sick of saying it). He was thoroughly confused. The way I normally treated him so opposed to what I was vehemently saying. He said the words I was waiting for. "What am I supposed to say? What do you want me to do?" He balked when he heard my idea- just like I thought he might. A few more strokes on the thigh, kisses and nibbles at his ear, soft words and half made promises, and my idea didn't sound so bad to him after all.

You see, I wanted him to prove to mama that it had been his idea all along to do my chores. To prove to her that I'd never really treated him like a maid before, he was going to volunteer to be a real maid for us the following Saturday. Naturally, I would assist him in getting the uniform, Mary could help with the hair and makeup and so on..

First of all, I had him shave off all of his body hair. He's never been that hairy, but I wanted his mind on the right track. Then, around the house, I had him start wearing full lingerie, just to get used to it. I had him in high heels as well. Naturally, I made damn sure that there was no chance that mama would be around. He was extremely reluctant at first, but gradually slid into an increasing femininity. By Thursday he was adept at walking in heels and giving every appearance that he had worn them all of his life. That night, I had him rehearse the speech that I'd drafted for him.

He'd followed my instructions, telling his mother he'd be away for the weekend. I knew that my mama would be visiting friends until late Friday evening,so had him report in about seven o'clock that night. I had Mary waiting for him. She put his hair up in rollers, but only after he asked her to do it. She took longer than I thought she would as she had to do his nails as well, but she was gone shortly after nine - promising to be over early the next day to brush his hair out. I 'borrowed' one of mama's nightgowns and peignoirs. I made sure that I picked one that she thought too feminine for her, and didn't use. Once I got him in them, he seemed to settle right down and we spent a pleasant hour or so, watching T.V. I got us both into bed and got the light out long before mama was due home. That way, she wouldn't be dropping in for any of her late night chats.

Poor Ashley. I cuddled him and comforted him, but had no intention of letting him get any sexual release. I'd found that, sometimes, I could lose control of him after he got off. Not always, but often enough that I wasn't going to take any chances. This was part of the reason that I'd wanted him to stay over. Left to himself, he might have handled himself, if you know what I mean.

Surprisingly enough, he dropped off to sleep before I did. His breathing evened out, and he fitted himself right into my body. I got a smell of the fragrance that mama uses in her lingerie drawer. That, and the satiny feel of the nightgown, and his soft feminine body almost turned me on. I nearly took him but, for the reasons mentioned, left him alone.

In the morning, it was so nice to have her, I mean him, wake up beside me. Again, I nearly made love to him, he was just so pretty. I made him get out of bed and shower (with a nice scented soap). I then had him put on the special lingerie I'd bought. Lustrous black satin bra, panties, full slip, garter belt and black mesh stockings. About then, I could hear mama stirring in the kitchen.

Just as I started to wonder about Mary, she arrived with Thelma in tow. Mama was too polite to ask what the hell they were doing there at that time in the morning, but I heard Mary say that they were here for breakfast - but would it be okay If she came up and saw me first? Celia panicked a little when she realized that Mary was going to see her in lingerie for the first time. I grinned when I saw the feminine logic he used. On went the peignoir -- which was probably the most feminine thing in the room. It wouldn't have made any difference anyway. As far as Mary was concerned, she was here to do a girl's hair. She had seen girls in lingerie before.

She brushed out his hair. She had done a great job. Ashley's hair wasn't that long, but it was decidedly feminine. As soon as she was finished, I shooed her out of the room. Ashley's eyes got big when I pulled the full skirted black taffeta dress out of the closet. I'm not into clothes, but this was gorgeous. He tried to be nonchalant, but I could see him trembling. "Fancy maid's dress" he managed to get out, stammering a little. "You'll love it once it's on." I re-assured him.

The back was all opened up, so I spread it for him "C'mon Ashley baby" I said gently, scared That I might spook him now. "Step into this". Hesitantly, he did. Quickly, I pulled it up on his body and, with just a little urging, got his hands and arms into the sleeves. I started to fasten him in, using the hook and eye fasteners at the back. I couldn't resist teasing him a little now that the battle was all but over. "You really sure you want to do this?" I asked innocently.

"Oh, I guess it's o.k" he replied dully. "You know, after mama's seen you in this dress and being a maid, she'll have a hard time seeing you as a man again." " Oh God Danny, must I?" He whimpered. I kept on imprisoning him in his new clothes and ignored him. "There!" I said briskly. "Just a few more things. Lift up your skirt and we'll get your petticoat on." Helplessly, he did as I said, and I had him step into a multi layer petticoat whose white ruffles would flash a little when he walked. Then his flouncy little apron and a pert, saucy little lace cap in white, with black ribbons got pinned on. The shoes were last.

I made him put on his own makeup. He wasn't that good at it, but I assured him that, with practice, he'd do just fine. I looked at my handiwork -- a pretty little maid. No-one would ever guess that this young girl was, or ever had been, a boy. My plans didn't call for him to be much of one in the future either, I may add. I looked at my watch. "Follow me down in about three minutes, o.k.?" He nodded. "You forgot to curtsey" I reminded him gently. He blushed "Sorry ma'am" he said and curtseyed just as I'd taught him.

I went down to join mama, Thelma, and Mary in the kitchen. Mary, naturally, had some idea of what was going to happen, but that was all. Thelma and mama were totally in the dark. I said hi to Thelma, and gave mama a good morning kiss. She was pleased to see me. "Yo Danny" she said, doing her Rocky Balboa imitation "How's about some breakfast?" "Great idea !" I replied, "Ceel will be down in a minute. I'm sure that she'd love to cook for us all." "Who's Ceel?" Mama asked. Then "I assume this is she?" As Ashley came into the room. Then came the recognition and then the significance of the maid's uniform hit her. "My God Danny! What have you done to this poor boy?" I said nothing, but stared at Ashley. He went into the speech, just the way I'd rehearsed him. Curtseying daintily, but blushing furiously, he described how mama had been mistaken in thinking that I had been treating him like a maid. To convince her of her mistake, he felt that the only way he could do it was to voluntarily, offer to be the housemaid for the day, so here he was. He then surprised me by saying that he didn't like the name Celia. "My name is Ashley" he said "It's just as good a name for a girl as anything else."

My mother shook her head, but I thought I re-detected that small glimmer of malicious pride in her eyes as she gave the son of her arch enemy instructions as to how she liked her breakfast - and watched him curtsey to her in his pretty maid's uniform.

Ashley did very well. Naturally he took some real teasing from Thelma who would run her hand up his dress when he'd pass or snap his bra strap. Actually, as the day wore on he even started to fade into the background. Thelma and Mary left after lunch, and mama took her afternoon nap until afternoon tea about four o'clock. I think she thought that the three places I had Ashley set were for the three of us. I suppose that he thought the same thing. When the doorbell rang, he just stood there like a dummy. "Well, answer it Ashley" I said "and see who's there." Mama glared at me "You can't be letting strangers in here!" I looked back at her calmly "You got to meet your daughter's new mother in law sometime, don't you?" Ashley stood at the door, frozen. His mother stood on the stoop, then brushed by him. "Didn't know you'd got up in the world enough to hire a maid. Is she all there?. Looks like she could use a little train..." She turned back quickly and walked over to Ashley. Her hand swung back, as if to slap him. Instead she cupped his face gently in her hand. "Well, looks like I wasn't too wrong now, was I Ashley?"

I had to admire the old lady. She had a damn sight more spunk than her hoity-toity airs would have ever led me to think. I was intentionally cruel. "Ashley. You can serve us tea now, please." He could no more deny me now than fly. He curtsied and after us three ladies had sat, proceeded to serve us--and very nicely too.

There was some shock, but not much, when I detailed my plan for our marriage. His mother wasn't overly in favor of a Vegas wedding but she relented when she heard that I wanted Ashley to wear my mama's wedding dress -- and that I was pretty sure that Ashley would want her there as matron of honor.

With their money, I had no problem getting through college, especially when I showed a real aptitude for running some of the family's far flung enterprises. Of course, everybody thinks I'm the man of the family, while Ashley is one of the prettier little helpmates that any man could ask for. Now that we're even comfortable in our respective roles, I've started taking her back to the family picnics. In her pretty organdie and ribbons she's the loveliest girl there - a real southern belle.

06 July 2016

A Blushing Husband

By: A Happy Wife

Stand there dear while I fix your hair a little. Now don’t be that way, I expect you to look nice for my family. Yes I know you don’t think you look nice, but we both know you do. Are those shoes ok with that dress? Try the white ones sweetie. Are you having trouble with the little buckle? Oh I think the shinny black is best, don’t you? You do look sweet. I know men don’t look sweet, but you don’t look very manly too me. Oh don’t be that way. Surely you don’t think you are a man. Remember the last time you tried to be a man? What happened to you? Right, your little penis got locked up. For how long? That’s right six weeks. That was a long time. And you acted like a baby so you looked like a baby. Isn’t that right? I have pictures; do you need to see them? Shall I show them to our guests? I didn’t think you would want that. Oh you are adorable with that little pout. Well maybe other men aren’t adorable but you are. You have your little girl songs all rehearsed don’t you? Ok, I will answer the door and take them all out to the patio. When I give you the signal put in the tape and skip on out. Yes I said skip, and Missy I mean a nice little girly skip. Then you sing "I enjoy being a girl" and you tap dance while you do that number. Your dancing is very cute. The women in your adult tap and ballet class all think your adorable. Don’t be that way they do to like you they bought you that ballet practice skirt, and your velvet shorts for tapping. Well I guess your right they do tease but if you didn’t act that way, so sissy girl they wouldn’t. Anyway when you finish the first number you sing "I feel pretty". Then I want you to hurry your pretty self up stairs and put on your new maid’s dress. Oh you haven’t seen it oh my I know you will love it. Here let me show you. Look at this, it’s powder blue satin with white lace. Just look at the darling blue pumps I got for you to wear with it. You can wear the same petticoats you have on now. And best of all the apron and cap. Have you ever seen so much lace in your life? Well it is a little over the top feminine wise, but so are you sweetums. There’s the door, I’ll let them in.
After the entertainment the conversation continues.
Oh there you are all changed into your maid’s dress. Show it to our guests dear. Oh not like that step up here on this little table. There give us a little curtsy. Oh don’t be so sensitive they are laughing with you not at you. What do you mean you weren’t laughing? What mother? Yes he dose have nice legs and his feet are as pretty as any girls. Sit here Missy and slip off your shoes and show the girls how pretty you keep your feet. Aren’t they darling? I swear I am going to make him wear sandals to work. The girls down there would be so jealous of his feet. Yes Mom he keeps his toes painted all the time now. He can do it himself he does mine. Would you like him to do yours? Oh good, go get you pedicure kit for mom. Now sissy you be sure to give her a nice foot rub too. He is so good at foot rubs; Carl would you like a foot rub too. Oh good sissy why don’t you do Carl’s feet first? They won’t take as long as moms’ Carl won’t want his toes polished; men don’t do that sissy. Carl sissy will remove you shoes and socks. Sissy look at Carl’s big shoes, those are very manly feet aren’t they sissy? Remember when you wore shoes like that? Sissy put you little foot up by Carl’s now put one of your pumps next to one of his big wing tips. Yes see the difference? You are a better sissy than a man, aren’t you dear? I didn’t hear you!
Well don’t mumble I’ll put you over my knee. Would you like our guests to see you get a paddling? What’s that Carl? You would like to see it. Well OK. Would you like to do it? Good Sissy when you are through rubbing his feet Carl is going to spank you. Sissy don’t look that way, it’s out of my hands. Oh stop kissing my feet, you should be kissing Carl’s feet; he is the one who is going to spank you. Oh my look at the tough guy, what do you mean you wouldn’t kiss Carl’s big feet? Carl instruct the girl to begin foot worship. I know you have never served a man’s foot, but you have had plenty of practice with mine. Now get with it, and when Carl is finished get over his lap for the paddling. Put you feet flat on the ground Carl Sissy knows her stuff. Isn’t it nice Carl. It feels good, get that little tongue between each toe, and think of the toes as little penises. Oh Carl likes that. You can come over and get a nice foot job any time you want Carl. Or I can send her over to home. I am sure you can put that talented tongue to work in the privacy of your home. Keep working Sissy, no one said stop and look at me.
Ok Miss fluff it’s time for the punishment. That’s the way, stand in front of Carl and do your thing. Ask him to please punish you, then run and fetch the hairbrush. Oh your back so quickly you must really want Carl to pay attention to your cute backside. Lay over his knees dear. Carl lift her skirts and petties. Oh sissy they are all laughing at your darling panties. I know they are just about the frilliest thing I ever saw. I can’t imagine what it would like to wear such a girly thing as those. Pull her panties down Carl, around her knees would be about right. Yes she dose have a pretty little fanny. Carl I always rub it a little maybe a light pinch here and there. Mom can you see Ok? Sis you can move in and watch our brother spank what used to pass for a husband. Go ahead Carl. Oh Carl got her kicking her feet on the first spank. Look at her squirm just like a girl. Well that wasn’t bad was it? Thank Carl. I think you need corner time, keep those panties around you ankles and hold those skirts up, put your nose right in that corner over there where I can see you. In about a half hour you can finish your work here, Mom’s toes remember?
After Mom’s pedicure and the guests have gone.
Well I thought it was a nice day and I am glad Carl got to know you better. He had been a bit stand offish around you. But I think that’s normal for real men to be apprehensive around sissies like you. Well because you would make men nervous. It might be contagious and no man want’s to be, well like you. Oh don’t cry I know you think you didn’t want to be like this, but I know better. Before you put your nighty on come brush my hair for me.
Oh that was nice here get me ready for bed. Keep my shoes out I want you to polish them before you go to your room. Put my dress in the dry cleaning bag you can take it to the cleaners on your way to work Monday. Unhook my bra dear, oh it feels good to let them be free like that. Why are your hands shaking? Oh you like to see my breasts, that’s so sweet. I’ll bet you would like to have your little princes let out for a while. Well you have been a good girl maybe if you make me happy with your tongue I can let you free. Help me with my panties sweetie. I’ll just lay back here and get comfortable while you do what you do best.
You are good and you made me happy. Why are you dancing around like a puppy? Stand still I know you want out of your gaff. Hold up your skirts and slips while I remove your pretty panties. This is the second time today someone has helped you with your panties. . Would you like it if big manly Carl was going to do what I am going to do? Oh you say no but I think you would like it. Ok honey run and get some newspaper to go on, and keep holding those skirts, I want to see that pretty butt. Back already are we? Place them at my feet sweetie. Now stand here while I undo this little device. Oh my you go girl! Oh dear, is that as big as it gets? And it isn’t very hard is it? You poor thing I’ll bet Carl doesn’t have problems like that. Oh well. Turn sidewise I will hold my soiled panties with my thumb and middle finger around this little penis of yours. Now you move in and out. Well I must say that didn’t take long. You can stop pumping now I think it’s empty, it certainly couldn’t hold much. It’s a good thing you aren’t still trying to please a woman with equipment like that. You’re like a Bee small and quick. Use the panties to wipe up with, lick off the paper and pull up your panties we have to talk about your work. Mark, your boss at the office is coming over tomorrow to take me out to dinner, he may be staying the night. Oh don’t be that way you should have known from the beginning that you didn’t have what it takes to satisfy an experienced woman. I made the right decision when I told you it would be best if you learned to love women the way another woman can. And you do very well in that role. When mark gets here I want you to look nice; he wants to see how you look. Yes I told him about you. Some of the girls have commented on your choice of shoes and slacks they have also noticed your hose when you cross your legs. You always try to blame me for the way you dress, but you are the one in the blue dress and matching pumps aren’t you sugar? Now for tomorrow I want you to wear your cute denim jumper with a white tee. Keep your legs bare use some baby oil on then like the teen-age girls do to make them shine and wear you white Keds. That will be cute and feminine.
Mark has decided to move Cathy into your spot at work. Yes I know you are a manager but Mark and I both think she will be an excellent manager. She is not just a secretary she is a staff assistant and she is very good at it. Well we thought we could just move you to Cathy’s old spot. It is not a girls job, there are no girls jobs or boy jobs if Cathy can manage you can Assist Mark. Yes you will have to serve coffee and cookies at staff meetings, and call Mark MR. and Sir you will also call me Ms and Ma’am, Cathy will of course be treated with the same respect. Your old secretary will now work for Cathy and be senior to you; you will fit yourself into the coffee rotation and take your breaks in the break room with the other girls. Oh I did say other girls didn’t I. Well sissy that is one of the reasons I want you to look nice for Mark. It seems the girls are pretty upset because you get to wear pants at work. They feel that if you insist on wearing women’s clothes you should only get to wear pants on casual days. They don’t mind if I wear them, and now Cathy will be able to also. After all I own the company. Mark feels that it may be easier to just have you in skirts than to risk the office staff being pissed off. Oh stop kissing my feet, the decision has been made.
The day I put you in panties you started in this direction. You have lost your right to bed your own wife, lost access to your own penis, lost your male privilege and now you have lost your pants. And all you can do is stand there in your pretty dress and blush.

15 May 2016

Bridal Workout

By: Rosie

I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. Well, not just my chest, but it seems that my whole body is pulsating with the rhythm of my heart. Even though my eyes have long accustomed to the dimly lit anteroom, I don’t even notice Erin beside me anymore. My eyes, my nerves, my mind are all fixed on the door and the moment that Martha will pull it open, starting the great entrance. I don’t even mind wearing Erin’s clothes anymore, all I want to do is to walk in and show myself. Show my progress.
Suddenly, it happens. The door cracks open and before I know it, I am walking, blinded by the bright light, into the room. There are gasps of amazement and I have to do my best fighting the urge to flex my muscles right here and now. But Martha, who I suddenly regard once again as my future mother-in-law, not just my personal trainer, was very clear about that. As my eyes are starting to recognize the silhouettes of the people in the room, I walk as I’ve been instructed, all the way to the end of the room, turn around  and walk back to the center of the room, where Erin has stopped, to face the silhouettes. It is indeed a select audience, as Martha has promised, there’s only my mother and my sister Karen. Well, and Erin’s sister Stephanie, but she sees me regularly, so he doesn’t really count. Erin and I stand side by side for a minute, then I take off my blazer to reveal the muscles on my arm.
It’s more than a wee pang of pride that I feel as I watch Roger’s mother and sister stare at him in amazement. My future son-in-law is standing before them half the size than he was before I took him in my weight loss program. He is wearing a pair of my daughter’s old black dress pants, and a her matching tailored blazer that makes his hips flare out below his now waspishly thin waist. There is no way Erin could put it on anymore, but it fits Roger’s thin arms quite snugly. When Roger finally takes it off, there is another gasp of amazement as he reveals his black satin halter top that tautens invitingly over his now flat belly with every breath he takes, but more importantly, it displays his thin, though shapely arms. There is definitely tone and shape to his muscles, all joints are beautifully rounded, but the muscles, just like the skin that enwraps them, are deliciously soft. Even as I look at him, I’m having a hard time believing that I have managed to turn the shapeless fat fuck he once was into this lithe, slim creature.
Behind him, Erin is also sleeveless in her red satin dress. Even though her fiancĂ© is standing right in front of her, she is fully visible behind his thin silhouette which, rather than conceals, only emphasizes her powerful figure. Erin steps forward and hugs Roger from behind, displaying the bulging muscles on her arms and I feel another not-so-wee pang of pride to see my daughter all developed like that. Of course, she lacks the hourglass figure of the man she is about to marry, but that’s nothing that can’t be fixed by a wide, patent black belt and a full skirt that flares out at her hips.
It was Erin that wanted to lose weight in the first place, and I was only too happy to help her. Of course I wanted my daughter to feel beautiful on her big day, and I wanted her to be healthy, but beside that, as a co-owner of one of the busiest gym’s in town, and a fitness instructor, it was bad publicity for my daughter to go about neglected like that.
I figured that I could use her slimming down to lure more women into my gym, but it soon turned out that Erin wouldn’t give me the before and after pictures I was hoping for. Just like me, she got the weight fever soon enough and was all about gaining weight, rather than losing it. She did take off a lot of her body fat, mind you, though it has been evident that that wasn’t her primary goal. Roger, on the other hand, was a completely different story. I soon found out that he was pliable enough that I could get him not only to do the exercises I wanted, but also follow a strict diet and take any supplement I wanted him to without a question. Once I started feeding him doses of estrogen he became even more trustful of my decisions. As his tearful outbursts of emotions started, he agreed that it would make more sense to carry out his training in the privacy of my own working out space in the basement of my house, rather than in full view of everybody in the gym. Shortly thereafter, Roger moved in with me, and was spending his days doing my housework and working on what he believed was a high intensity body building regime. When he lost enough fat that traces of hardly existent muscles began appearing under his skin, I managed to convince him that he was making great progress, just I had managed to convince him that the shiny leotards I had him wear were regular men’s gym clothes. When the day that he was ready to be shown to the world finally came, he didn’t think it strange that Stephanie put his hair up in rollers until it was a mass of tight, jet black curls, that she filed his nails and covered them with a clear varnish, nor that she plucked his eyebrows into thin arches. When I gave him Erin’s old clothes to wear he trustingly accepted the explanation that I had realized that none of his old clothes fit him too late to get him new ones in time for the show.
We stand together like that, with Erin’s arms around me, for a minute, then my mother gets off her chair and I feel Erin step back.
“My, you’ve grown,” she says to me.
“Actually, mom,” I smile awkwardly, “I’m wearing high heels.”
I pull the left leg of my pants to reveal my black, four inch heeled pump. Martha gave me these shoes so that they would bring out the muscles on my thighs and calves, and also because we realized too late that my pants were a bit too long.
“It wasn’t your height I was talking about,” mom says, then drops her eyes to my chest.
I feel a surge of pride and I push my chest forward.
“Oh, God,” she breaths, “Are they real?”
Before I can answer, her hand is on my pecs.
I can’t help it, I know Martha will be mad at me, but I simply have to do it. Just like Martha has trained me to do for dozens of times, I pump my arms in toward the center of my chest, then I bring my shoulders in toward the center of my chest. I should have done a quick exercise or two before, to get the blood flowing, but as it is, all I can do is to clench my hands together, hoping to flex my pecs as much as I can.
Before I succeed to, my mother’s hand moves to my left triceps.
“So soft,” she whispers.
“Just give me a minute,” I say, fighting tears of shame. It’s not fair, not only I hadn’t done any pre-warm exercises, but she’s not even feeling the muscle group I’m flexing.
“I meant your skin,” she says, “It’s so soft.”
“Oh,” I say, “Well, I’m oiled up a bit.”
“I see,” she mutters, then her hand is back on my pectorals.
“Yes, yes,” Diane says, as she fondles her son’s budding breasts, “They’re definitely getting harder.”
Roger proudly juts his chest forward again, exposing his swollen nipples through the black satin.
“I’m glad to hear something does,” Erin mutters, just loud enough for me to hear her.
“Erin!” I hiss at her and she shrugs apologetically.
“Sorry,” she whispers back, but I can’t really blame her. The heavy hormone treatment does take its toll, I suppose.
“You guys said you had something for me,” Erin turns to Diane and Karen.
“About that…” Diane says, then turns to Karen.
“No, we don’t,” she says to Erin, “Sorry. I know we said we did, but it turns out we screwed up, so…”
“Oh,” Erin says, not hiding the disappointment in her voice.
“Oh dear,” Diane sighs.
“This is embarrassing,” she says, “We asked your mother for your measurements, because we wanted to have a wedding dress made for you. She gave us the measurements of both of you, and we mixed them up.”
“It was an honest mistake,” Karen says defensively.
“Karen!” Diane hisses at her.
“Well, it was,” she pouts.
“Anyhow,” Diane turns back to Erin and me, “We had the wedding dress made in Roger’s size, not yours. Never mind, we’ll take it back.”
“Hold on,” I say, “Let us see it, first.”
Karen pulls out the dress from a black garment bag and it’s Erin’s turn and mine to gasp in astonishment this time. It really is a wonderful gown.
“It would be such a shame if no one wore that dress,” I say.
“Well, there’s no way Erin can put it on,” Karen says.
“It’s not what I meant,” I say.
“I wonder…” Diane mutters and as if on cue, Stephanie takes the dress in one hand, grabs Roger with the other and leads him out of the room.
“Actually, Martha?” Diane says, “I really don’t think this is such a good idea…”
“Why not?” I say, looking her in the eyes.
“In fact,” she begins, then pauses as I lean closer towards her, “I think it’s time Roger moved back to my house…”
“That’s up to Roger, of course,” I say, “But let him try on the wedding gown first.”
“I hope you don’t mind if I take some pictures,” Stephanie says to Roger as she leads him back to the room, dressed in the bridal gown, “This will be good publicity for my beauty salon, and I don’t get to do too many bridal makeup jobs.”
Posing for Stephanie, Roger looks as if he’s floating on a cloud of white satin, chiffon and lace. Even with the full makeup, his face strangely doesn’t look much different than before. When Stephanie puts her camera down, he gives his mother an accusing glare.
“Oh, Roger,” Diane moans out loud, “I swear, this was honestly the furthest from our intentions.”
“Don’t worry about it too much,” I say to Diane, feeling her shiver as I place my palm on her nylon-clad knee, “I don’t think he was really that comfortable in Erin’s old pants before.”
“Actually, Martha,” Roger speaks out in his soft voice, “I would prefer to be back in Erin’s pants after all.”
I flash him a kind, but dismissive smile, then turn back to Diane.
“He does look lovely, though,” I say to her.
“Seriously, though,” he says again, “Stephanie promised me I wouldn’t have to wear this dress longer than just to see if it fits.”
Slowly, I turn to face him again, though I don’t take off my hand of Diane’s knee.
“And?” I say, “Does it fit?”
“To a T, mummy,” Stephanie says happily.
“Well then, I guess it’s best if you help him take it off,” I say, “But Roger, it really is time you stopped wearing Erin’s old pants.”
“Erin, honey?” I say, “Why don’t you take Karen and see if you can find a dress of yours that would fit Roger?”
With a quick nod of her head, Erin takes Karen by her hand and leads her out of the room, leaving me alone with Diane.

“Well,” I say, sliding my hand up her thigh, “Looks like you won’t have to take the dress back, after all.”