27 May 2011

Hair Raising Experience

By: Bea

Once upon a time, a young man lived with his wife.

      This young man was very insecure. He seemed to look for reasons to be that
      way. He was insecure in male company because he was slightly built. He was
      insecure in female company because he felt that other men might laugh at
      him for being too friendly with girls. He was insecure at his job because
      people had degrees from better schools, and were smarter than him. People
      who had worse degrees than his, or none at all, didn't seem to care - and
      were better workers.

      The only person he wasn't insecure with was his wife. She was smaller than
      him, had gone to the same college, and was very quiet and non-threatening
      in every respect. Like most insecure people then, he treated her as if she
      were a low grade retard, made all the decisions for both of them, and
      managed to get them to the point of financial disaster in a couple of
      years.

      Up until he lost his job he had always scoffed at her "little" job as a
      hairdresser/ beautician, despite the fact that, over time her bring-home
      wages gradually caught, then surpassed, his. He didn't even have enough
      sense to knock it off when three months of unemployment had made it very
      obvious who the real breadwinner was. He still continued even after she
      opened up her own shop and started to make a lot more money.

      Unfortunately for his feelings of superiority, she was gaining in true
      self confidence by leaps and bounds. As she developed in this fashion he
      became more and more frantic to maintain their old footing, and got
      increasingly obnoxious in his attitude towards her. She took it for a
      while, but her patience finally wore thin. One night she turned on him
      with a controlled venom that let him know who the real boss was in the
      house. Weakly, he tried to pooh-pooh her statements but only succeeded in
      making her really angry. He folded in seconds after that. By the time the
      conversation was over, it had been well established that from that point
      on he was the househusband, with no doubts at all about his status, which
      would be well below hers.

      Both of them were actually surprised at the outcome. As if he had finally
      found his true calling, he settled into his new role within days, fully
      subservient to his (now) mistress. She, similarly, took over the running
      of the house, and him, as if to the manner born, taking the reins of power
      with style and aplomb.

      She even discovered that they both got enjoyment out of it when she would
      tease him about his new role occasionally. When she laughingly presented
      him with a long, frilled apron, he protested, but not strongly enough to
      get out of wearing it - nor the succession of more and more feminine ones
      in pastel organdies, chiffons, etc., that came along over the months that
      followed. One night she even got him a little tiddly on wine at dinner.

      He woke up the next morning to find himself in one of her fanciest
      nightgowns, and the uneasy feeling that he had played Juliette to her
      Romeo in bed the night before.

      In truth, they seemed to have found their respective niches. He had
      finally found something he could do well. She was a late blooming manager,
      finally feeling the strength of her wings and the courage to try them. She
      was even contemplating the opening up of another store in a better
      location, but made her first mistake in voicing her concern about the
      availability of a good manager. She made the second when she laughed at
      his suggestion that he could do it.

      He got very offended, pointing out that it was only young girls in the
      shop-surely anyone could manage 'them'? She compounded the first two
      errors when she pointed out (honestly) that her "girls" would eat him up.

      He went into a pout that kept surfacing for weeks, damn near driving her
      to distraction. Sadly, she had to admit that she had made a mistake. If
      only she had shut up!.

      After another couple of weeks, however, her hand was forced. Surprisingly,
      she had been nominated to chair a fashion show for charity. As the women'
      club running the event was very instrumental in defining who was
      fashionable, and who not, in that town, she was more than glad to indicate
      her willingness to support the effort. Even more surprisingly, she got the
      job. It didn't take her long to realize that she was over extended. Maybe
      if he could take the shop for two weeks? What could go wrong in that short
      period of time.?

      He accepted her offer with alacrity, even when she made him promise that
      he'd stick it out, regardless of what happened. No quitter he !

      He never had a chance. There were six operators in the shop. All young,
      extremely competent, and street smart. They sized up this pretentious
      upstart in minutes, and decided to have some fun. What pointed them in the
      direction they took was his own personality projection for, to tell the
      truth, after months of apron-wearing subservience to his wife, he had
      developed some effete mannerisms that the girls picked up on immediately.

      Without any more communication than a lift of a shoulder, a wink, a
      twitched eyebrow, a smile, the girls proceeded to set the stage for
      waylaying him. For a while, they were deferential to a ridiculous extreme,
      obsequious when he spoke, but never smiling, never friendly.

      They spoke only when spoken to, brought him his tea or coffee - but did
      not offer to share their cookies, or conversations with him. At lunchtime,
      they made arrangements to go out that totally excluded him.

      As described, he did have his faults, but had always got along with his
      fellow workers reasonably well. He had never been treated so distantly, so
      like a pariah in his life. For the first few hours of the first day there,
      he had enjoyed the first taste of managerial power he had ever had. By
      lunchtime it had palled. By quitting time he felt lonelier than he had
      ever felt. By ten the next morning, he was like a little puppy,
      practically pleading to be told why he was so unpopular.

      'Unwillingly', they finally let him worm the truth out of them. They
      "really" wanted to be friends, but they were all very wary of "men". Every
      time they "saw" him, they were reminded of his "masculinity". When he
      asked them to do "anything", they felt his "domination". They just felt it
      to be wrong, having a "man" working beside them!!!

      Laughing easily - was this the big problem? - he proceeded to reassure
      them that they were all members of the same team. Surely they could see
      that? Sure he was the manager, but he'd never get that authority if he
      wasn't married to the boss, would he? They were all working together for
      the common good!

      It seemed that they were unconvinced. Quietly, they went back to work. His
      recent experiences cut in. His wife liked it when he served things up to
      her, why shouldn't they? Ten o'clock break found him running to get their
      teas, coffees, etc - and actually winning some smiles - but no company -
      for lunch. At one o'clock he managed to wring out the suggestion from one
      of the girls who confided that if maybe, he took his jacket off, his
      masculine projection wouldn't be so overpowering ?

      He was being a little more acceptable he found, but even this didn't seem
      to placate the girls. Perhaps, another suggested, if he would wear a
      smock?

      He looked at the pale blue smocks the girls all wore. A little feminine
      perhaps but, well, - okay!

      Delighted smiles all round. Happily, he realized that he had made contact
      at last. Unfortunately, the one smock that was available was one left by a
      recent assistant-and the assistants wore a different uniform than the
      operators, the girls explained as they helped him into the pink satiny
      creation, buttoning the oversized pearl buttons at the neck and cuffs as
      they did so.

      He was dying of embarrassment but, as the girls explained, happily
      circling him and admiring his appearance, he now fitted right in. And he
      did too. By quitting time they were all complimenting him on how great an
      assistant he had become - one of the best they'd ever had - just like one
      of the girls!!

      After the miserable way his new job had started, he went home quite
      happily. Explaining his day to his wife during dinner, he found himself
      discomfited by her stare. She was smiling, so it wasn't too bad. He asked
      her what was wrong and was surprised when she said "Nothing, but wasn't he
      supposed to be the manager, rather than an assistant ?"

      As he did the dishes in his prettiest apron, he decided that it would be a
      good idea if he were a little stronger with the girls the next day.

      By the time his wife dropped by for lunch, he hadn't been too successful.
      If anything, events had gone the other way. Somehow or other, in one of
      the quiet periods, he had been inveigled into sitting in a chair. His hair
      had been shampooed and set, loosely it's true-but there was something
      decidedly feminine about it. His fingernails had been manicured and given
      a coat of clear polish. At least the girls swore it was clear-the pink
      color was just a reflection from his smock, they said.

      This time, they all went out to lunch with his wife. He didn't wear his
      smock of course, so had to put it down to dim lighting when the waitress
      addressed the whole group as "girls". He didn't take issue the first time,
      so had to let it go the next few times she repeated it, or referred to
      them all as 'ladies'.

      The next day was very quiet in the shop, and the girls started ganging up
      on him in earnest. One of them, all of a sudden, noticed an "incredible"
      resemblance to a common friend "Margaret". They all exclaimed over it then
      kept making the mistake of calling him by that name. At first, they would
      apologize profusely, but as the morning wore on, there were more and more
      "Margarets" and less and less apologies. By lunchtime, he seemed to have
      acquired a new name.

      All evidences of him being a manager were gone. All the girls (he was
      included, naturally - as they pointed out, his vote was just as important
      as any of theirs), had an election and made Rose, one of the older girls,
      the lead. His title seemed now to be universally accepted as "shampoo
      girl"

      Another step was taken that afternoon. One of the girls came up to him
      with two bottles of perfume, very eager to get a 'man's' opinion on which
      one he thought nicest. After he chose one, she complimented him on his
      taste, and as a 'reward' proceeded to dab some behind his ears and on his
      wrists before he could dissuade her.

      He was too shocked to protest and the first compliment he got from a
      customer set him to blushing furiously. After a few more, however, he just
      accepted them quite happily. He did make a mistake with one of Rose's
      customers that afternoon, but as she said nothing at the time, forgot all
      about it.

      Rose did call for a shop meeting at closing time. His wife had arrived to
      pick him up, so decided to sit in, glad of the chance to get a sit down.
      He served her tea as he did for the other girls, then settled back to
      listen.

      It was a real shock. It seemed that "Margaret" had cost Rose a good
      tipping customer with "her" carelessness. Had any one else had the same
      problem?

      Fortunately for him no-one else had (seemed that he'd have been spanked
      there and then if they had). Rose satisfied herself on that score, then
      warned him, calmly, that a recurrence would find him over her knee, his
      pants at his ankles, getting a good spanking.

      Everyone, including him, knew that she was deadly serious, and perfectly
      capable of doing it. She then asked him directly if he knew what she
      meant. He nodded, but she made him repeat what she was going to do to him,
      just to prove it. Face flaming, he did so. Shamed to the bone, he took off
      his smock alongside the other girls, then left with his wife for home.

      After dinner, he asked his wife if she had any ideas as to what he could
      do to avoid a recurrence of the humiliation. He was quite surprised at her
      answer. She proposed that he start wearing pretty feminine panties under
      his pants.

      He laughed, but not really with that much confidence (he'd discovered that
      things of this nature seemed to be happening to him, whether he found them
      funny or not).

      As he guessed, she was deadly serious. Her reasoning was that with frilly
      panties on, he'd have a constant reminder not to make any mistakes- could
      he imagine what the girls would say if they saw his lingerie when Rose
      spanked him?.

      There was no stopping his wife. She made a quick trip to the mall, and the
      following morning, bedecked in his very own, very feminine, panties he
      went to work.

      He did rehearse a complaint and air it to his wife that evening,
      complaining that he was being treated like a girl.

      Pointedly, she reminded him as to how he had gone from being acting
      manager to shampoo girl in less than a week, how his hair was decidedly
      girlish, how he wore perfume, that he answered to the name "Margaret"-how
      did he expect to get treated?--Like John Wayne? -- Jo-anne Wayne was more
      appropriate!!!

      He lasted into the second week before disaster struck. He made exactly the
      same mistake with another of Rose's customers. This time it was early in
      the morning and he had to go through the rest of the day getting little
      grins and nudges from the other girls. He knew that, if he took his smock
      off, the girls would figure that he was trying to escape and stop him. His
      only other alternative was to get out of the shop, wearing his smock.
      That, he didn't want to do at all.

      To tell the truth, he started feeling a certain feeling of excited
      anticipation. At first he pushed it from his mind but, as the day wore on,
      a certain breathlessness started in his chest.

      At quitting time, the girls started drawing the window blinds. They even
      made him make coffee and serve it up, adding even more humiliation to what
      was going to take place.

      They were going to wait for his wife, but she seemed to have been delayed.
      Finally, Rose gave him instructions. If he came to her without a fuss, she
      would take it easier on him. If he would keep his legs nice and straight,
      and give little kicks, that would make it look as if he were enjoying
      it-and make her ease off. Lastly, if he would just give little squeals now
      and then?

      First, he had to take his shoes and socks off, then his pants. As the
      smock was knee length, his panties didn't become visible until he was over
      her knee, and she had pulled up his smock.

      He was surprised at the seeming lack of reaction from the girls, a couple
      of titters was all. He took his spanking like a heroine, a screen heroine
      that is. He kicked his legs and squealed prettily for what was nothing
      much more than a series of love taps.

      The reaction to his underwear actually followed the spanking. He didn't
      know where the clothes came from, or even how they did it but, ten minutes
      later, when his wife came for him, he was wearing a short, tight, black
      skirt, a pink blouse, sheer enough to show the outlines of the camisole
      and bra beneath it. Garter belt and stockings under the skirt. His face
      was tastefully done up with lipstick, blusher, (though he didn't really
      need that !), Mascara, eye shadow -the works.

      She really wasn't that surprised at his appearance, she knew the girls -
      and what they were capable of. What did surprise her was his demeanor.
      Instead of the "crushed" male, he was actually acting like a reasonable
      (female) person.

      He slid into the car beside her, gave her a peck on the cheek, put his
      handbag down on the seat, and said "I've been thinking about becoming a
      beauty operator. I quite like working in the shop, you know."

      She looked at him, surprised. He continued "I suppose I'll have to return
      these clothes tomorrow - will you take me to the mall tonight ? I think
      I'll need some new outfits - OK by you?"
      She grinned "You mean for Margaret?"
      He grinned in return. Shrugged his shoulders inside his pretty blouse.
      "Who else?"

19 May 2011

A View from Horizontal

By: Bea

Effectively immobilized by my wife's command to "Just lay there and be quiet", I
still had the use of all my senses.
I could see the carpet directly below me, that was all - well practically all.
To my right, my platinum blonde hair hanging down the side of my face
effectively screened my view at that side. If I slanted my eyes to the left, I
could just see the swell of Jane's red dress covering her hips and then a little
of the couch fabric her back rested against.  If I tucked my chin in tightly I
could see a little of the lace that decorated my jade-green nightgown and below
that, a hint of my cleavage. Holding my chin in this position for any length of
time had proved to make me feel very uncomfortable though, so I did what I was
supposed to be doing, laid there, over my wife's knees, quietly staring at the
carpet.

I could smell the aroma of the White Diamonds perfume I was wearing and a slight
trace of Jane's cologne.

I could feel the touch of my long dangling earrings on my jaw line and Jane's
hands on my back, one of fingers on her left hand very slowly and gently tracing
the outlines of my bra, her right hand softly lifting then releasing the elastic
of my panties, and hear the soft sound as the elastic snapped back into place. 
(I know that a girl should not wear bra and panties under one's night clothes,
but Jane demanded that I do because she just loved to pull my panties down when
she made love to me.   She also loved me in my bra – said it should remind me
that I wasn't much of a man.).

It seemed like a long time, but I don't suppose it had been much more than five
or ten minutes that I'd been laying there.  I'd thought she was going to spank
me when she'd made me go over her knees, but she'd simply made me position
myself there then adjust my body until she was comfortable.

I actually wasn't too uncomfortable myself. My wife does have lovely round
knees, but a few minutes with my weight fully on them WAS uncomfortable, as I'd
learned only too well when I was being spanked.  This time though, my weight
from my crotch to my feet was supported by the couch where we sat. Only my top
half was basically unsupported, my arms held straight back along my sides.  At
the same time, I was beginning to have a little problem.
"Mistress?"  I whispered.  "May I speak?"
"If it's important."  she said kindly.
"May I move my right arm?  I think it's starting to cramp."
"OH, you POOR darling!"  she whispered sympathetically.  "I'm SO sorry!  Of
course you can move it!"

Gratefully, I lowered my hand to the floor and managed to shift some of my
weight onto it.  I saw my small, rather plump, dainty hand.  The oval, scarlet
nails.  The white, lace-edged cuff of my robe making a nice contrast to the jade
green satin of the nightgown sleeve that had slid down my wrist.
"Thank you mistress."  I said, making sure that she heard the sincerity in my
voice.
She patted my backside re-assuringly. "You've been VERY good Suzette.  But I
don't think it'll be much longer.  I think I hear them now."
I knew better than ask who 'they' were, but she was correct.  The door to the
room opened and I heard Rose's voice.
"The visitors you were expecting ma'am."
"Thank you Rose."  Then a slight pause before. "How do you do ladies.  Is it all
right if I address you by Andrea and Diana?  Though I'm not sure who is who?"  I
heard Jane say, then continue. "Excuse me for not getting up, won't you?  It
just has taken me too long to get Suzette positioned properly and I don't want
to go through it again."

As I'd heard her speak, I realized who her visitors were and tensed up.  She
gave me a sharp spank on my bottom.  "Behave!"  She said commandingly.  I
concentrated and managed to relax.  "There's a girl!"  she said approvingly.
"You are Jane?"  I heard Diana say from above me.  "It's nice to meet you.  I'm
Diana.  This is my sister Andrea."  I saw two pairs of smart ladies shoes come
into view, felt Jane shake hands across my back.
"Pleased to meet you both.  Hope you didn't mind coming all this way, but I
really felt it was important."
"Important?  In what respect?"  Andrea asked.
"Correct an injustice.  Have my husband make amends for the criminal way he
treated you girls."
"Roger?"  Diana asked.  "You must be the woman who married him?  Where is he?  I
suggest that you don't let him meet us.  I'd still like to scratch his eyes
out."

"Well, I don't call him Roger any more.  He's Suzette now."
"Suzette?"  Andrea asked, then paused.  "Is that him over your knee?"
"I prefer him to be described as 'she' now but, yes, this is her over my knee."
I heard a giggle from Diana, then Andrea spoke again.
"He's ..  I mean SHE'S a woman now?"
"Oh no!  Never!  Just a sissy boy I've taught to behave properly and wear pretty
clothes. But why don't you girls sit down on these chairs.  Make yourselves
comfortable.  Rose?  Why don't you see if these ladies would like a drink?"

And, still face down, I listened to my wife and my two step sisters chat as they
waited for Rose to pour and serve everyone - except me of course - drinks.

After Rose left the room Diana addressed Jane.  "Do you mind me asking?  What
happened?  How did you ever get him to agree to .. to .. change?  I mean it's
quite sudden, no?  You've only been married what now?  Two, three months?"

I could feel Jane shift a little underneath me as she considered her answer.
"Yes Diana.  Just a little more than three months.  But I actually started
effeminizing him while we were going together."
"Dressing him up?"  Diana asked.
"Oh no.  Just priming him, so to speak.  It wasn't overly difficult."
"What, exactly, do you mean by 'priming' him?"  Diana asked next.

I blushed furiously as Jane described how she'd readied me for my current
position.
"Well, for example, I convinced him not to cut his hair.  Told him how handsome
he was with it long.  How it made him look bigger."
"I can see how he'd fall for that line.  He was always conscious of being so
small."  Andrea laughed.
"Yeah."  Jane laughed in agreement.  "Then I managed to convince him that I
wanted him nice and smooth everywhere else."
"That couldn't have been too hard either."  Diana added.  "He never was what
you'd call hairy."

"So?  On your wedding night he was nice and smooth, and had nice long hair?"
Andrea asked.
I could feel Jane nod her head. "Yup.  Sure did.  All day I'd been whispering to
him how horny I was.  How I just couldn't wait for him to make love to me.  How
I longed for him to possess me.  Make me his WOMAN!"
She laughed lightly.
"After all that build up, how'd you put him off?"  Diana asked.
"Didn't really.  If he'd been able to perform the mans function he'd have had
me."  Jane answered in a matter-of-fact tone.
"He couldn't perform?"  somebody asked in incredulous tones.
"Well.  Not to my specifications."  Jane laughed.

"Specifications?"  This time it was Diana asking.
"Yeah.  I'd made it clear that I wanted to be overpowered by my man.  Ravished.
Have my gown torn off. Wanted to be his submissive little woman.  That kind of
thing."
"Where were you telling him all this?  While you were still at the reception?"
Diana asked.
"Well, as I said, I was making these comments all day.  From the end of the
ceremony, during the reception - even on the car ride to the house out in the
country for our honeymoon.  I'd rented it for a month.  Just the two of us, two
maids and a cook.  When I asked him to 'take' me, he was in his pajamas.  I was
in my nightgown."

"I still don't understand."  Andrea said.
"Well, he came strutting up expecting me to fall on my back.  Don't think he
expected me to be stronger than him."
"Are you that strong?"  Andrea asked.  "You don't look it.  No offense."
"None taken. I work out a little,"  Jane admitted  "but he's a real weakling.
Thin soft arms, all weak and white.  He started to get really frustrated when I
kept holding him off.  Then, I pretended to get angry.  Told him I HAD to get
sexual release, so he tried again.  I almost let him get me, then wrestled him
to the floor and sat on him.  Pinned him to the floor.  He started to cry with
humiliation.  I started to kiss and caress him.  He got all soft and cuddly.
Then I told him that if he wouldn't play the part of the man, he'd just have to
continue acting the way he was and be the woman for me."

"Did that turn him on?"  Diana asked.
"Not sure, to tell the truth."  Jane said. "But he got really docile when I got
his jammies off and his bra and panties on."
"Your stuff fit him?"
"My stuff?  Oh, I see.  My stuff does fit him but, I'd a wardrobe all bought for
him before we even got married."
"His trousseau?"  Andrea laughed disbelievingly. "You KNEW he'd be that way?"
"Not really.  But I was pretty sure.  Getting back to our wedding night though,
I did make him put my bridal nightgown on over his bra and panties.  You know,
the significance of the white gown. That kind of thing."
All three women laughed.
"Then I made him up."  Jane continued  "Lipstick, blush - lots of that.
Mascara.. Made him ASK for all of them."
"Perfume?"  Diana asked.
"Of COURSE!  What bride doesn't want to smell nice for her man?"  Jane answered
mockingly.  "And then a nice blonde wig.  He was really quite pretty.  Then when
I told him what I was going to do he started to get scared.  Really struggled.
It was a lot of fun.  The satin nightgown was hard to get a hold of, all
slithery.  Exactly like wrestling a weak woman."
"But I don't get it Jane.  Why did he get scared?"  Diana said, puzzled.

"I'd told him that ONE of us was going to be the bride.  If it wasn't me, it had
to be him."
"The bride?  I don't..."  Diana paused, then squealed. "You MEAN...?"

Jane caressed my rump lovingly.  "Oh, he squeaked and mewed like a little pussy
when I took him in my arms.  Started to weep and plead with me.. I just kept
kissing him and stroking his little plump ass.  Told him how nice I'd be if he
acted the part properly..."
"The girl's part?"  Andrea commented disbelievingly.
"Zactly!  Sweet and clinging and passive.  Lubricate herself.."
"Lubricate?  Oh Jane!  You had him lubricate his own ass for his wife on his
wedding night?"
Jane laughed again. "Yes.  Except, as I said, HE was the wife.  I was the
husband."
"But what did you mean when you said you'd be nice?"  Diana asked.
"Why, I showed him my dildo collection.  Said I'd use a tiny one."  Jane
explained. "If he didn't behave, I'd use a large one that would probably hurt a
lot more."

There were a few giggles from the girls as they digested what Jane had told
them.  I heard a muffled voice wishing that she'd been there to see it, but
there was a lull in the conversation for a time, during which time my blushes
diminished somewhat.  But my respite didn't last too long.

"The next day?  How was he then?"  Diana asked.
"Sore, I'd imagine."  Andrea laughed.
"Absolutely correct."  Jane answered, laughing in turn.  "He was a little more
responsive in the middle of the night when I got horny again.  Seemed to be
accepting of his new role in the scheme of things."
"But?  I mean, did you let him go back to being the man in the morning?"  Diana
persisted.
"Whatever for?  He looked so fetching when we woke up, I just couldn't see my
way to letting him change back."  Jane said.  "And you should have seen him when
I rang for Rose and told her to serve breakfast in our room.  Trying to hide
himself under the bedclothes.  But I made him sit up in bed to make sure she saw
him in his wedding finery first."
"What for?"
"Well, maids do the laundry, don't they - and I wanted to make sure that they
knew who's juices were on that particular piece of clothing.  Anyway, while
breakfast was being prepared, I had him shower then change into a really pretty
pale blue nightgown and peignoir set.  It was really funny.  I made him tie his
hair up with a ribbon and put on his own makeup.  Actually, the poor little lamb
tried to do a creditable job, but his lipstick was all smudged and his mascara
made his eyebrows into a big blob."
"Why did you do that?  To humiliate him some more?" Andrea asked.
"No.  Not really.  Well, maybe in a way.  You'll understand in a minute."  Jane
replied, then continued her story.

"So there we are sitting at a small table, morning sun pouring in through the
windows.  Two young ladies having a girlish gossip while the maids served us.
Of course he blushed a lot and came close to crying a few times. He blushed more
though after breakfast when we sat on the dressing table bench, side by side,
while Rose worked on me and Elsie worked on him.  It was SUCH fun!.  I told both
of the girls that I had just found out that he wanted to be the 'wife' in our
relationship, so any 'help' they could give him in being the 'woman of the
house' so to speak, would be most appreciated.  Pointed out that he'd wanted to
put on his own makeup - and the poor results.  Elsie just couldn't wait.  While
Rose was getting me dressed for the day, she had him go into the bathroom with
her and wash his makeup off. Then she showed him how to apply his makeup
properly."

"Jane?  You mentioned Elsie.  We used to have a girl with the same name..."
Diana said, a puzzled tone in her voice.
"Yes.  It's the same girl."  Jane answered the unspoken question.  "See, I knew
he'd defrauded you girls out of your inheritance and that you'd had to get rid
of your servants as a consequence..  As she had thought the world of you two,
she felt she had a score to settle with him.  Rose had been a maid to my mother
- another victim of one of his financial boondoggles, so she had no problems
with what I wanted done with him either."

I had twitched when she told my step-sisters this piece of information, not
having known of this.  I twitched more when I got a sharp spank on my rear.
"Suzette!  Didn't I tell you to stay STILL?"
"How did you find out about all of this stuff?"  Diana asked. "Did he tell you?"
"Absolutely not!"  Jane said.  "I originally went after him because of what he
had done to my mother, and a good friend.  When we were dating, I managed to get
into his personal files on his computer and learned all of the shenanigans he'd
been pulling.  I'm in the process of making restitution where I can..."
"Is that why you asked us here?"  Diana asked excitedly.
"Mostly.  Now I'm not giving all the money he stole from you back to you ladies.
 I figure about eighty percent.  I have made a sizeable investment in this
activity myself, and my normal fees do come to a fair amount...."
"Oh PLEASE don't apologize!  Eighty percent!  Oh my goodness!"  Both my
stepsisters exclaimed almost simultaneously.

Then Diana said.  "Your normal fees?  I don't understand."
Jane laughed shortly.  "Well, I guess you could call me a specialist in ..
ahem.. converting .. men into women.  I make a fair living at it.  When my
mother originally told me how he'd swindled her my first thoughts were simply to
get her money back, but once I met him - and saw what a smarmy, obnoxious,
little toad he was, I thought it would be more fun..."
"To 'convert' him?"  Andrea asked.  "Would you mind explaining just what it is
you do...?"
"No.  Don't mind explaining at all."  Jane said.  "First of all, I accidentally
found out, when I was quite young, that I had a sort of natural aptitude as a
dominatrix."
As if to emphasize this, she gave me a smart slap on my rear, then continued.
"It's really amazing how many men actually WANT to be dominated.  Then I
discovered how much enjoyment I got in dressing the poor dears in women's
clothes.  Making them behave like women.  Making them THINK like women."

"And they PAID you for this?"  Diana asked.
"Yes.  But that sort of bothered me.  After all, that way I was being paid for
what THEY wanted ME to do.  I was effectively their employee.  Then I discovered
that in some cases, it wasn't so much the men that wanted this, it was often
their WIVES. Sometimes their mothers or sisters.  This meant that I was the
women's employee, not the man's.  Liked THAT a lot more."

"How did you get your customers?"  Andrea asked.  "I can't see how there could
be that much demand for that sort of thing?"
"It's amazing how effective word of mouth is."  Jane laughed.  "And trust me, I
actually get more clients than I can handle.  As a matter of fact I'm thinking
of getting back into the business and asking Elsie and Rose to join me.  They've
shown a great aptitude for this kind of work, and I could use a hand now and
then."
"Elsie?  That sweet little thing?"  Diana laughed. "Aptitude?"

"Yes.  She actually came up with a new wrinkle that I think can prove to be very
effective - with a little more polish that is."  Jane said earnestly.
                            .    .    .

I knew what Jane was talking about.

That first morning of my marriage still stood out in my memory as one of my
all-time humiliating experiences.  I'd had many more since, but everything
hadn't been clear to me then.  I'd no idea how, or why, things had transpired
the way they had.  One day I was on top of the world.  I'd landed a beautiful,
rich, wife desperate to get me into bed.  Less than twenty four hours later, I'd
been violated as if I'd been a woman, and was being primped and painted by two
young servants who were not slow to embarrass me at each and every opportunity.

I'd been horrified when I realized that Jane was fully dressed and intended to
leave me alone in the room, at the mercy of the maids. I learned what real
horror was when she came up with another 'IDEA', as she called it.
"Darling!"  she gushed.  "I've just had a wonderful thought!  Want to know what
it is?"
"Oh yes Jane!"  I said, pretending avid interest, but more conscious of hands at
the lacy collar of my light blue peignoir, making tiny adjustments.  Of other
hands holding a brush and applying a tinge of blush to my cheeks.

"I've some business up in London.  Was going to put it off.  But now?  Why I can
kill two birds with one stone.  Three birds, actually."
I'd absolutely no idea what she was talking about.  Was even further distracted
by someone applying a hot curling iron to my hair.
"Huh?"  was all I could manage.
"Well!  One:  I can take care of that business.  Two: I can get you a nice
wardrobe.  Can't have you walking about in my stuff now, can we?  Three:  It'll
give Elsie and Rose some time to work with you.  If you're going to be my wife,
they can give you some pointers on how to be a proper woman.  I'm sure you'll
learn a lot from them."

"But you WILL be home by this afternoon, or evening?"  I said, hating the
womanish pleading tone in my voice as I spoke.
All three women laughed.
"Get to London?  Shop for a wardrobe?  Take care of business?  In an afternoon?
My, you are really being a silly girl, aren't you?  I'll probably be back in ..
say... a week."
"A WEEK!"  I protested.
"Well?  You did say you wanted to be my wife?  Please me?  Didn't you say that?"
 Jane answered, demandingly.
I didn't answer, so she answered for me.  "Of COURSE you did!  So this'll give
the girls a good chance to teach you properly, without me looking over their
shoulders.  And, Rose?  Is that room down beside you girls clean?"
Rose curtsied.  "Oh yes ma'am."

"I've decided that my husband's name is to be Suzette from now on. And it might
be a good idea to move him down there with you.  Be more convenient for you and
Elsie having him closer to you, don't you think?"
I saw fleeting feral grins on the faces of Elsie and Rose as they curtsied
again.  "Oh yes ma'am.  Much easier."
"That's settled then.  Rose, stay here and help me pack please.  Elsie?  Why
don't you take Suzette down to her new room just now."  She came over and gave
me a girlish peck on the cheek.
"And Suzette?  Be a good girl now.  Do as these ladies tell you.  I'm expecting
a BIG improvement in your womanly skills by the time I get home."
"Oh dear!" I pleaded.  "Please don't..."

I felt Elsie's hand on my arm, pulling me up from where I sat and towards the
bedroom door.
"C'mon Suzette.  Don't be arguing with the mistress now.  That's no way for you
to be behaving."
"But.... OW!"  I exclaimed as she took a firm grip of my ear lobe.
"Suzette!  Come along now!  And be quiet!"
And, with my wife of one day watching, a wide grin on her face, I was led
forcefully by the ear from our bedroom by a young maid, my feminine nightgown
and peignoir wafting about me as I went.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't, Suzette."  I heard Jane's mocking voice behind me
as I was led downstairs to my new quarters in the maid's section of the house.

There, I was introduced to my third "instructor" for the remainder of that week,
Joyce - the combination cook and scullery maid.  Naturally, she didn't hold the
scullery maid slot for much longer - that was to be my purview.

I'd guess that Jane wasn't out of the house for more than a half hour before I
was divested of my finery, and invested in clothing more suited to my 'station':
 plain nylon bra and panties with matching slip.  Plain black maid's uniform
with long, functional apron and plain mob cap.

I was trained in all aspects of housework.  The cleaning of floors.  Dusting,
vacuuming.  The science of washing windows.  Ironing.  Laundry.  I was cuffed on
the ears.  Spanked.  Led around by the ear.  Spanked.  Cuffed. I learned the
rudiments of personal care and grooming as they applied to a maid and - assuming
that one day I'd promote to ladies maid - to a mistress.

 As I progressed in my new career and showed aptitude, my treatment became less
physical and more mental.  I was 'allowed' to wear prettier clothes.  To use
makeup, and minimal jewelry.  To speak to the ladies without curtseying.  Given
classes on sewing, embroidery and crocheting.  I was promoted to 'housemaid' the
third day.  When Jane returned after an eight day absence, I held the rank of
'upstairs maid'  and was allowed to be the girl who answered the door when she
arrived.  She was most impressed and complimented the girls most sincerely.  I
blushed with pleasure when she complimented me as well and showed me my new
uniforms that I would wear from then on as her personal maid.  She also made me
show her how pretty I looked in the new clothes she'd purchased for me to wear
when I was to act as her 'companion'.  That same night, she took me to bed and
made me act as her woman again.
                         .    .     .

My train of thought was interrupted by Diana's voice.  "Elsie?  Aptitude? New
wrinkle?  Please explain Jane, would you?"
"Well, it actually was quite brilliant.  You see, if he was naughty?  She'd make
him put on some article of man's clothing before she punished him." Jane laughed
softly.  "Got to admit it.  No formal training whatsoever, and she came up with
a form of aversion therapy that I'd never even considered."

"But wouldn't he just keep misbehaving then to get more and more men's clothes."
 Andrea asked.
"On the contrary my dear.  He started to associate pretty women's clothes with
praise - a pleasant association, and of course, men's clothes with punishment
and humiliation."
"Humiliation?"

Jane laughed. "Oh yes.  See for example, she once she put him in scarlet teddies
and matching bra, stuffed of course.  For outerwear a pair of shocking pink
pedal-pushers that closed in the back.  Then a man's white shirt and a pair of
men's black wing tip shoes.  Cut off all the shirt buttons so you could see his
undies.  Tied a big red ribbon in his hair.
"That sounds truly awful.  What a mess."  Diana laughed.
"Yeah - but that's not all."  Jane continued.  "Took him downtown in the bus and
made him go and buy lipsticks and dress materials."
"Oh, good grief!"  Andrea laughed. "I can see the humiliation now."

Jane was caressing my backside tenderly.  "I don't think she had to play that
routine on him more than three times."  She leaned over me and spoke.  "Suzette
doesn't like these ugly men's clothes any more, does she?"

She didn't wait for my answer.  Just gave me a tender spank.  Then I heard her
say.  "Ladies?  Would you mind taking my place here?"
"Both of us?  Whatever for?"  Diana asked.
"Yes.  Both of you.  I'll explain in a minute."  Jane answered.  "Just lift up
his legs Andrea and move up towards me. Diana?  You can move in behind Andrea
and once your both in place, I'll move out from under him."

I could hear giggling from my two step-sisters as they moved into position,
keeping me face downward as they did so. Then Jane sidled out from under me as
Andrea and Diana moved up.  I felt four smooth hands on my back now.

"Now ladies"  Jane said.  "Turn Suzette around so's she's facing up at you now.
Slowly.  And Suzette?  Make sure you don't get your makeup smudged while you
shift, and give the young ladies your nicest kissy-poo smile when you're looking
up at them."

At first, the women couldn't get proper purchase on my satin peignoir as their
hands were sliding off the material.  They persevered though and, a few seconds
later I was lying on my back, over their knees, staring up at them.  Smiling my
prettiest smile at the two young ladies looking down at me.

The look of puzzlement on both their faces was something to see.
"This isn't Roger..."  Diana said.  "Can't be!"
"Wait!"   Andrea said.  "Oh GOD!  Yes it IS!  oh, my achin' back!"
"Look at those lips!"  Diana muttered.
"Yes.  Collagen can work wonders, can't it?"  Jane laughed.  "I wanted Suzette
to have that 'bee-stung' look.."
"You sure succeeded!"  Andrea said whistling softly.  "And these breasts?
How..?"  She slid one of her hands in between my robe and nightdress, and
caressed my left breast.  "Why, they feel real,"  she said  "even flopping to
the side."
"A minor piece of implants by laser surgery."  Jane said.  "I made her a little
top heavy.  A 36D bra is what she takes.  You probably don't see it right now,
but I also had her hips expanded a little.  She's on an exercise regimen to make
them bigger.  Shouldn't be too long before she's in proper shape."
"Is her hair real?  I mean, it's not a wig, is it?"  Diana asked.
"All natural - except the color of course."  Jane laughed.  "She takes good care
of it herself now."

"But he .. she.. could pass as a woman, eh?"  Andrea asked.
"For quite some while now.  Oh yes.  Easily."  Jane answered.
"So why didn't he try to escape?  Work as a woman accountant?  He was pretty
competent in that field.."  Andrea was saying.
"TOO bloody competent if you ask me!"  Diana said vehemently.
"Oh, I think I took care of that too." Jane explained.  "See, I made up a big
list of things that a blonde bimbo would think of.."
"Eh?  A blonde bimbo?  What kind of things?"  Andrea interrupted.
Jane shrugged. "Like:  Wonder if this shade of lipstick would be better with a
darker outline?  What do I like best, stockings with seams or without?  Which is
sexiest, my pink baby doll nighty or the long dark blue one..?"
"Sorry.  I don't understand either."  Diana said.

"Well I haven't finished yet.  I made him memorize hundreds and hundreds of
little feminine thoughts like that.  Then I had a psychologist friend put him
under hypnosis with the instructions that any time he tried to work out anything
logically, after the third thought in the train, he'd start interspersing these
little questions amongst the logical thoughts."
While she was talking she was walking back towards me.  Smiled down and patted
my cheek gently.  "Suzette is just a pretty little bubblehead now, aren't you
sweetie?"  I nodded happily, and her face left my field of vision.  She kept on
talking.  "You'll die laughing if you see her ever try to add a column of
figures.  It's a riot!  Can't come up with the same answer twice in a row!"

Both of my step-sisters were smiling, but Diana's face gradually became more
thoughtful.  "Jane?"  she said.  "I hope you don't take this badly, but I've the
feeling that you want something  from us?  I mean, I appreciate your offer to
refund some of our losses...  But?"

Jane laughed.  "Oh yes Diana.  I would appreciate a quid pro quo.  You see, I am
taking him to the courthouse in town next Tuesday.  There, I'm going to have the
marriage annulled, because I can't see me staying married to a man ..."
"That wants to be a woman?"  Andrea interjected, laughing.
"Exactly!"  Jane said approvingly.
"So where do we come in?  Andrea asked.
"Why, by taking Suzette off of my hands.  She'd just be a liability when my new
clients were brought into the house.  Plus?  I thought you two might enjoy
it...?"
"That's ALL?"  Diana asked excitedly. "You're giving us back scads of money -
and the scoundrel who stole from us.  And you THINK we might enjoy it?  Oh Jane,
I don't know how to thank you..."

"There's something else that could maybe let you get back all the rest of your
losses."  Jane interrupted.
"More back?"  Andrea asked.  "Go on.  This has got to be interesting."
"Well, In the computer files I mentioned?  I found quite a few more names of
women he'd stolen appreciable amounts of money from.  Now, I'm not giving them
any money back - they were greedy, and all of them could well afford what he
stole from them."  She paused.

"But?"  Andrea asked.
Jane smiled.  "I invited them to the hearing.  Can't begin to imagine what their
faces will be like when they see Suzette in the scarlet satin dress she'll wear
to the occasion."
"But how will that get us money?"  Diana asked.
"Well, I'm not sure, but I'd imagine that once they discover that Suzette's
sweet sisters are taking her back into their households as a maid - and that
they might be talked into renting Suzette out for the occasional week end ....?"

"OOOOOOOHHHH!"  Andrea started rocking underneath me. "Renting our poor brother
out?  What an absolutely wonderful idea!"
"Yes Andrea."  Diana said quickly.  "But US first!  Jane?  I've never worn a
dildo.  Is it difficult?  Is it more difficult with a great BIG one?"