A POSSIBLE LINK OF INTEREST?

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SHEESH!

Forgot.  Just added Monica's new short story.  It's on Freebies2 at magselectronics.com and titled "Quick Transformation",  I think that you'll enjoy it.

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Got to thinking. I was brought up in an extremely macho society.  Having lived in Southern California for many years though, I've always tended to consider myself unlucky in not having been raised in such a permissive way of life.

But?  Now that I think on it, I'm starting to believe that a TV or cross dresser is fortunate to be brought up in a society where a male does certain things - and a female does others.  It's like the French language.  Everything is either masculine or feminine.  A male who does things, normally reserved for a female, is a sissy.  No two ways about it.

Just look at a permissive society.  Males wash dishes, clean houses, iron clothes.  Even change babies!  In a macho society, they'd be categorized quickly if they did half of the above.  A poor transvestite or Cross dresser doesn't know WHAT he's supposed to do!

Take the chores associated with laundry  in a male dominated society for example.  A man washing his own clothes presents no suspicion if he's doing only his own.  But if there are feminine garments in his load?  Lawdie, Lawdie, Lawdie!  Let's make snide comments.  Maybe flip a wrist?

The same thinking apples to ironing.  A man lightly running a cool iron over lacy panties or a bra?  A pansy or sissy - no arguing.

But the real name calling can go along with the drying.  If an automatic dryer is used - well it's private of course.  Same thing as ironing or washing - so he's a 'closet sissy'.  But now comes the REAL fun!  Let's suppose that our sissy's wife, prefers the nice clean scent of clothes that have been hung out to dry on a washing line.

Here is our hero - in public yet -hanging out clothes that include all sorst of feminine lingerie.  His wife - if she's so inclined - may like to gossip over the fence with her next door neighbour while he's so engaged - all the time stressing WHAT a treasure her sissy husband is!  Naturally, her neighbour agrees, pointing out again and again how it would be SO pleasant to have a husband who is man enough to take over some of her tasks.

Which brings me to another facet of humiliation.  The pleasure that a domme gets in showing off her domination of this poor sissy male to others.  It can be other dommes - but that is simply a mild embarrassment.  Suppose that it's his mother - or a sister?  Even better - a fiancee?  Suppose he is an office manager - and his dominatrix comes into his office some day?  Loads of possibilities here!

Anyway?  Just a thought.

Monica's Story

I got the copy of it and though I just updated my web page a few days back, I'll add this as an update within the next day or so.  For Monica's fans who may have never accessed my page  It's magselectronics.com.  (And don't be mad at me if it takes a day or so!)

KILTS!

Sorry for not writing, I've been messing around.  If anyone's interested, I updated magselectonics.com - and added that story "Samantha" I talked about recently.

But what I really wanted to talk about is kilts.  It's NOT TV or cross dressing related, but I'm almost sure that there's an awful lot of nonsense goes on about kilts.  Thought I'd throw my tuppence in.

I was born and bred a Scot.  Lived in Glasgow.  Have never worn a kilt in my life - and never wanted to.  This may sound strange coming from an avowed transvestite, but it's absolutely true.  A kilt is MAN'S wear - and I'd feel queer as hell if I fantasized about wearing stuff worn by MEN!  I don't live in Scotland any more, but remember a few things vividly.

To begin with?  Kilts are rarely worn in the lowland areas of Scotland - more in the Northwest or North, than anywhere.  You do, occasionally, see some kids wear kilts in the lowlands, but it's not that common - at least it wasn't when I grew up there.

But when you start to bring bagpipes into it?  An entirely different story.  Whoever HEARD of a bagpipe band in anything other than full highland dress?  Which brings me to my anectdote about bagpipe bands.

Back then, there was a youth organization called  "The Boy's Brigade".  It was usually tied into a church (Protestant I think - but don't know for sure) and our uniform?  Just a pill box hat - and a leather belt.  There may have been a sort of Sam Browne harness, but I'm not sure.

But in the Glasgow area, we were a large organization.  Again, my memory is suspect, but I don't think I'd be surprised to be told that our numbers were about 100,000 in any one year.  In any case, there were a LOT of us.  And, every year we had this bloody big parade that was held all over Glasgow.  Every individual unit marched to a particular 'collection point' and was joined by different units at various fixed spots until we all connected at a large area al over the city.  There'd be speeches there, I think, then when the oratory was finished we were all pointed at surrounding churches where we attended a service.  When it was over, I think we just broke up and made our own way home.

A few groups of boy's Brigade, had their own Bugle, or Bagpipe band.  My group didn't have one, but as we gradually picked up others as we marched to the collection points we'd meet up with units that had one or the other.

Like the other boys in my group, I enjoyed marching to the Bugle bands.  Didn't mind listening to the pipes - but they were a major pain in the ass to march to.  I don't know - but there was a half-beat somewhere? I heard someone explain it that the pipe band marches could only be marched to properly if you were wering a kilt.  they put in this 'pause' that let you swing your ass to get the kilt to swing about the hips. (I don't know if this was true - but ask anyone whoever marched to a pipe band!).

Anyway, we are all marching along.  Pick up one group and then another.  Then another - that has a Bugle band and we all march happily along.  Then another group - then one with a pipe band.  And from all around me comes the unhappy muted groans of other boys who feel the same way I do as the pipes start to skirl and we all try to adjust our steps to the different beat.

Then?  Miraculously I find the beat!  It's EASY!  Happily I swing along, though for some reason everyone around me is grumbling and fumbling.  Out of step?  Other than me, it's a bloody shambles!  The boys are NOT happy - but they're grinning at me as I march along.  I don't care that they're jealous.  I'm okay!

Then the lieutenant marches up alongside us.  He doesn't look my way, but he falls into step with my rank.
"Knock that shit OFF you bastard!"  He hisses.  "Knock it OFF!"

I am astounded.  Honest to God, I have no idea what the hell he's talking about.  I would stop anything bad I was doing, but he must be thinking about somebody else.  Then, his words and expression must have got to the others, because fits of giggling start - and before you know it, the whole company is giggling - myself included - and trying to contain ourselves as we march into the large containment area - then directed into our place amongst the other groups.  We are finally at a stop.  The lieutenant marches away, cursing at me under his breath.

"But what did I DO?" I ask plaintively.  This immediately starts another round of barely suppressed laughter - with lots of muttered "Shut UP!s" and similar comments.  No one was blaming me for anything.  Didn't believe that I didn't have a clue what had been going on - but obviously enjoyed whatever diversion I was being blamed for and didn't believe my protestations of innocence for a munute.

I din't discover what I was supposed to have done until we were in the church.  Finally somebody half-believed me and filled me in.  So help me God - this is absolutely true.

When you march properly?  You advance your right arm with the left leg, your left arm with the right leg.  I'd started marching - my right arm going with my right leg and my left with the left.  Created unimagineable chaos all around me.

I couldn't very well admit that this was the method I'd found to fit in with the bagpipe wail.  Had to pretend innocence that noone believed.  I mean?  What could any boy have done?  (But that was talked about for years!)

Thank God I don't have to march to pipers any more!

Tea Party

" You might as well say" added the March Hare "that I like what I get is the same thing as I get what I like"

Bea has been most kind and invited me to post some of my experiences related to the topic of real life experiences, and whether these experiences need to be sexual, or whether other things are involved. I helped serve at a tea party today. I got changed and wore my traditional french maid's outfit at a friend's house. She is a sissy girl who knows a lot of people, including groups of dominant women. In my experience at the risk of sounding sexist, Ladies loves tea parties. and Dominant Ladies love tea parties where sissy maid service is provided. So 5 sissy maids piled into a car, and went to the home of the dominant lady who was hosting the party. We prepared savoury and sweet courses, cooked up bunches of tea, and met the guests as they came to the door, taking their coats and curtseying sweetly. Here is another picture of some of the other maids doing the preparations. In all there were 9 Ladies and one gentleman friend. We have done this before, so we set up a gay table, with plenty of condiments, led the Ladies individually to table, and spent the next two hours providing what we hope was a high level of cheerful maid's service. The Ladies were free to tease us, and comment on the quality of our service or to chide us when we failed. One of the sissy girls was too chatty and she was chatting with me! and I was singled out as well as her, and given a little spank with raised skirts which I didn't even deserve! But that is the maid's lot is it not?

The interesting question is whether the Ladies or the maids are excited in the sexual sense during this activity. I can speak for myself certainly that mainly this is enjoyable because it is a role play associated with fantasies that were clearly sexual. But this is real. At that moment we actually are maids, in the presence of Ladies. These Ladies are not embarassed. Only the maids are sometimes embarassed! This is exciting the way flirtation is exciting I think. I do not do this for sexual gratification really. We served at the tea party, we cleaned up afterwards. We left. I know a number of the Domme's from other events, parties, and occasions, but in this case we didn't socialize extensively with the Ladies. This was a party for them to socialize with each other.

I have been at these events where the talk between the women, can be intimate, and you realize as I stand there awaiting them to finish their conversation so that I may ask them if they require more tea; that they certainly aren't thinking of the aproned and petticoated servant that awaits them as a man, or they wouldn't speak that way. That is both humiliating and a fulfillment of a wish, since I increasingly choose an identity that is more femme than male. I think that is a little like Monica 's feelings awaiting her employer's judgement of her work.

It is a grand occasion I think, and everyone enjoys themselves I would say. Everyone gets a chance to dress up and show off their pretty frills, or admire the sissy in their cute uniforms.

Its a tea party

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Got to thinking about what turns a person on.  Initially I was looking at Monica's comment about not getting any 'sexed up' feeling until she talked to her employer;

To my mind, this was a one on one situation, where the hierarchy couldn't have been clearer.  Monica had performed the maid function - and her work clothes had been made evident  She was the servant - performing in a female role - and Tina was her employer.  A domme and her servant.

I'm deep in the closet.  Practically never came out unless I was sure it was safe.  But?  I had built a rather heavy-duty shell around myself.  I was sturdy - not heavy -  red haired, with a matching temper, freckles and blue eyes.  Could hold my booze pretty well (NOT beer!) and enjoyed telling and hearing off-colour jokes.  My wife of many years knew of my predilections before we were married, but it took me many years to realize that my sexual proclivites were all based on male submissiveness.  She was brought up in a working class macho society in the same city as myself.  She'd laugh uproariously when I tried to tell her I was submissive - so I must have been a helluva good actor to say the least.

But two women in my lifetime saw through my act.  One was a saleslady in a California clothing chain called "The House of Nine".  Catered to very small women.  We had no kids at the time and I loved to see my wife finally getting clothes that fitted.  I also enjoyed buying the clothes for her - so was a fairly good customer.
Then one day this saleslady strongly suggested that as I had such excellent taste in women's clothes, I should apply for a job in the store.  Then she gave me a smile.  "I'm SURE we could find a little black dress that would fit you?'

I knew perfectly well that she had guessed, but it was done with good humor and I was able to laugh it off (trembling like a maniac inside though!).

The second wasn't funny at all.  She was a waitress at a well known restaurant in San Diego.  She KNEW!  Knew the moment she set eyes on me.  Kept making double entendre remarks at me - then actually got me off to one side when I was coming back from the mens room.  Told me that she would meet me after work - and she was POSITIVE she knew how to treat me.  Scared the living hell out of me.  I fumbled out that I was with my wife and we lived a fair ways away - couldn't meet her.  She patted my ass as I left her!  Just the thought of her still scares me - and that was forty years ago.

But I was lucky enough never to be put in a position where my masculinity would be put to the test - Pretty sure I would have failed!  Anyone have similar experiences?

being a maid is a vocation!

I would like to answer to Bea and Carrie P about how I define my sexuality and if and how I am sexually aroused as a maid. I am like most of the other people that participate in this blog an heterosexual tranny. I adore women and everything that goes with them. When I dress up, more in the early days than now I am sexually aroused. But over the years I started getting another type of pleasure when I dress up and start my housework chores. It is an undefined feeling of satisfaction not necessarily sexual about working as a menial domestic. The moment I tie my apron on, as Tammie mentioned in her letter, I become a different person, I become a docile servant. When I am alone I just go ahead with my chores, but when I interact with an employer (more rarely), I can get sexually excited again. For instance my recent paid job given to me by my new employer Tina, gave me an immense satisfaction, especially when we were talking on the phone and she was telling me encouraging things of the type, I want my maid to do this and that.

Tina arrived last Friday and she was very pleased with my work. She thanked me repeatedly for all the work I did. Of course I said to her that this was my obligation since I was paid as her cleaner and maid to do this job. I left behing hanging by the kitchen door my uniform dress and apron which she saw and made a positive comment of the type, 'I see you like to dress properly when you work as my maid. she actually used the word 'my maid'. That particular remark aroused me sexually, so you can see how I mean that.

Tina mentioned also this morning that she would like to work with me one day before she goes back to Istanbul in order to point things to me that have to be done. Of course the fisrt thing I am going to ask when I see her in her apartment, probably next Thursday is, 'can I change to my work clothes before I start working?' and see how she reacts.

Tammie, I love your uniforms, they are the type of uniforms I like to wear myself. I have that culotte dress as well, aparently very popular among American waitresses, I'll fish out a photo and sent it.

To answer the other question from Carrie, yes I go out dressed in normal street clothes only in UK when I visit my friend Sally Moss. Then we go out to Manchester Canal street area where trannies are very easily accepted. Photo attached.

curtseys,

Monica

Real Uniforms

Hi there everyone,

I do so love real maid/housekeeping uniforms. I'm sure that frilly french maids uniforms feel wonderful and definately make one feel girlie, but there is something about an authentic one that gives me a little twinge just thinking about it. The peach/pink Diner uniform is actually a cullote, which is very practical, but I did need to find a special short-style slip for it. Hope you enjoy them. Can only imagine what it must be like to really work as a maid in one, as opposed to the light housekeeping I do around my house occasionally. I have to admit that as soon as I tie the bow on the apron my demeanor almost changes to a more fem and submissive attitude, almost magical. I do love playing the part of Mistress and Maid so its sort of fun to make myself play both roles in a pic hope you agree.

Favorites

Belinda just asked if I would pick what stories were my favorites - and why they were that way.  Write about them in this blog.

Well, to be perfectly honest (don't you always mistrust people who say exactly that?)  I probably couldn't remember for starters - and when I wrote a story?  At THAT time, it was probably my favorite, but that was because it was filling in a specific 'hot button' of my own at that particular time.

Looking back, I think that I'd sometimes write a story because I was fed up with my same monotonous types of character.  Let's face it - you can get awfully fed up of milquetoast husbands and nice wives who have to be gradually convinced to make use of their servile spouses.  Two come immediately to mind  (Im NOT saying they were good, or anything like that)  where my dommes were dommes to begin with, and were that way inclined. Revelled in treating their own sissy husbands properly!

Both stories are free by the way in magselectronics.com.  One is "Dear Charles" and the other "Poor Percy".  The Charles story is pretty standard - BUT - I wanted to get the idea across that dommes wanted a sissy to feel complimented by being forced to dress and act as a woman - particularly as a low-level, feminine one. Expected him to demonstrate how happy he was at being dominated!  Another way for a domme to humiliate a sissy spouse.  In Percy, I was just enjoying myself with a ruthless domme.

I remember being accused of making my males such sissies - SURELY I had to have at least some stories where they rebelled?  I managed to reply that I actually HAD one where the male rebelled against his wife - and won!  It was called "Samantha".  Unfortunately it's not on my page.  Guess I never added it yet - but when I update next, I'll try to remember.

I guess I do have some favorites - but why are they that way?  Buggered if I know!

On another subject altogether.  Aren't Monica's experiences fascinating?  It really IS so strange to me - I found it hard to believe that men wanted to act as maids - but didn'tget sexually aroused! 

Reminds me.  I was acting as a counselor at a forum for the spouses of transvestites when I first heard of this type of transvestite.  Refused to believe it!  Must admit that I hae a tendency to be hard headed.  Took me quite a few years to finally see that I'd been in the wrong.  (Still stumps me though!)

Hope this was something like your wants Belinda!

granny apron

The other day I saw an apron I love in your blog, I call it 'granny apron' and it is quite old fashioned. I bought a couple of them in Melbourne Australia back in the late eighties, amazing they were still on sale.

I attach two photos of mine from 2006 when I visited Sally Moss in UK.

It is a very protective and practical pinny but also quite 'housewifely'.

Have a nice weekend, talk to you on tuesday with news from Tina's (my new employer) arrival and inspection of her apartemnt.

Curtseys ,

Monica