Sunday, August 28, 2011

A bunch of things - and Part 4 of my serial

A somewhat rotten week - pretty well restricted - but thanks to 'anonymous' for her comment - really cheered me up.  Then Casey from Texas? Both of you hit the spot when I was feeling on the low side.  Thanks to you both.

But every cloud has a silver lining I guess.  I finally realized what Lulu could do for me in terms of selling stories.  In all honesty?  I think that publishing an actual book "A Walk on the Other Side" was actually an ego trip for me.  Was delighted with the book itself - but realize quite easily that physical books can be difficult - and that downloading promises much better cost, delivery time, and privacy.

So?  As I was pretty well stuck in the house, I converted two more sets of stories into books.  Both have downloads and are advertized in Lulu. The first is "Safe House for Sissies".  The second is "Sissy Men in Pretty Aprons".  The first has two stories - "Safe House" and "Writer".  The second has "Image" and "Pretty in Aprons"  (I changed that title.  It used to be "Slow Notion").  They are both now for sale at Lulu.

Let me explain a wee bit.  I've been selling those stories at $5.00 apiece for many years.  Didn't want to reduce prices because I was always involved in the order. Someone would order, and I'd reply by sending the stories as attachments.  By working through Lulu I'm no longer in the loop - and they anser very quickly.  On top of that?  Without any sale on, the cost is now $3.50 per story - and when there is a sale on (see my statement last week) the price is even less.

With any luck, I'll be able to sell all of my stories through Lulu.  On the bad side, I'll lose contact with a lot of nice people - and I often will throw in an extra story for first time orderers - or people who order four or five - but that can't be helped.  Many of my readers have liked my stories but couldn't show their appreciation.  Now? It'd be GREAT if you occasionally filled in a "Review" on my stories at Lulu.  It's quite easy.

Talking of Reviews? Xaxa has written a review of my book.  I'll admit to being biased.  My books are almost like my kids.  Say something nice about them and I'm flattered all to hell - and I have to thank Xaxa.  She still has a great blog - nice review or not!

This brings up a point for discussion - or some thinking on your part.

I get orders for stories - and often get the guys name.  I'll often convert it to something 'girly' when I respond - but I'm never too sure how this is received.  Also?  Xaxa is a sissy - as I am.  Should we refer to ourselves - and the other - as 'girls' or 'she'?  I really would like some opinions on this.  Frankly?  I don't give a damn about myself - though I'm about as feminine as a brick wall.  I can see how confusion gets started. I write sissy stories.  I go by a girl's name. So I may not look nor act like a duck in every respect - but I do quack prettily.

Ah well.  I think that's me for today.  Do take care of yourselves - and be happy - huh?  Here's the serial:

Real Husbands Don’t Cry

Part 4

I lied, even though I felt my cheeks flush. "Well?  Not too bad!  But I can see the reasoning!  Protects one's clothes from all of the crap?  Makes sense!"
"So?  You don't MIND?"  She was inspecting me closely.  Eileen's words came to mind  and I managed to grin - albeit a trifle weakly.
"Ha ha!  Well – not really!"  An apron is SO functional – all of that good stuff.  You know?  I'm not really used to one for any length of time.  But it's SO practical!"
"You don't MIND?" She smiled at me.  "Let's face it.  Those aprons might embarrass someone else – someone who wasn't thinking correctly?"
I managed to hide my internal sigh.  "Embarrassed?  That's just plain SILLY!  A sort of macho throwback! An apron is necessary for housework.  No other word for it!"
She gave me a sweet smile.  "Oh!  I'm SO glad you feel that way!  When I was shopping today, I came across those aprons!  Lovely hostess aprons!"  She tried to look shy but wasn't overly successful.   "I bought a couple.  Like to try them on?  You and Eileen?  I sorta thought . ."
Eileen broke in.  "New aprons?  But the ones we have are lovely!  Don't need anything else!"
"But these are SPECIAL!  Couldn't resist them!" Joan laughed, going to one of the parcels on the floor.  "Come on you two! Don't be such fuddy-duddies!"  With that, she started pulling transparent materials from the bag.
"Aw Steve! What do we DO?" Eileen asked, laughing and untying her apron bow and pulling it over her head.  "No sense in fighting this woman!"

I wasn't about to pretend that I was keen, but was damned if I could see a way out of this predicament.  With a smile that was probably sickly, I took my apron off slowly, but the time I took to do this, let Eileen start putting her new apron on – and Joan to have mine all ready to slip on over my head.  I wanted to complain, but knew it was away past time for that. Stood still as she put the new apron over my head.

"Och lass!  Those are LOVELY!" Eileen said, her Scottish brogue thick again. "But, they're NOT aprons - surely?"
"Aren't they just lovely!"  Joan giggled a little tying a bow at my back then doing something more while she was there.  "But they ARE sold as 'Hostess Apron Gowns' in the store so I guess that 'apron' is the right term.  But Steve, don't you think they're lovely?"
I didn't get a chance to answer.
"What were you doing just then?"  Eileen asked Joan before I could speak.
"Oh.  There's a sort of set of hook and eye fasteners there – just to close the back properly – so that it sits nice.  Here let me do yours."
Eileen backed into Joan and I saw what Joan had just done to me – enclosed me even more than I had thought by fastening me in.
"Mmm."  Joan said. "These are a little tight. You and Steve will probably have to fasten each other in for a while until the fasteners loosen a little.  Why don't you stand together and let me see you?"

There wasn't a mirror available but I could see that other than the fact that my apron was yellow and Eileen's a powder blue they were identical. Very full skirted to calf length, then a full bodice, with a tight waist emphasized by a wide tie.  Both the bodice and skirt had rows of frills made of the same material as the apron – a sort of chiffon?  Maybe a little heavier, but not much.  The aprons resembled dresses more than anything else.

I was speechless with a kind of fright but I think Eileen saw this and moved into my side, taking my arm in hers as she did so.
"You look SO nice you two! Charming!" Joan said.  "But the place looks ready. Is it and are you going to shower?"
"We're all done.  Were just about to hang up our aprons when you came in."  Eileen said.
"Good.  Plenty of time to shower and change before our guests get here.  Time for a drink I'd guess."  Joan said.
"Maybe so."  Eileen said.
"Want to carry my parcels upstairs for me then darling?" Joan asked me.
"I'll hang up these other aprons then," said Eileen.
With that, we all parted.

For some reason my mouth was very dry when Joan and I got into our bedroom but I tried to keep my voice normal.  "Stay long with Helen?"
"No.  Not a long time.  But interesting."
"Interesting?  In what way?"
"Well, I think that you threw her a curve by saying you only wanted to work part time now, but it got her thinking about Rose."

I blinked.  I mean it wasn't MY idea in the first place, but I thought it politic not to argue but had to continue. "Rose?"  Couldn't hide the amusement in my voice.
"Yes.  Her.  She's been bugging Helen for more time on the job, and now Helen's starting to think that she may be the answer.  After all, she's been around the office for quite a while now.  Should pick things up fairly quickly. You seem amused by the idea?"

I shrugged. "Well.  She's such a shy little thing."
"Not like YOU I suppose."  Joan didn't bother to hide her amusement.  "But of you want to chat?  Why don't you help me get ready for my shower?"
I answered with an attempt at humor.  "What did your last servant die of?"
She turned calm eyes on me. "I enjoyed you helping me last night – and now?"  her mocking gaze ran up and down my apron.  "You're even dressed even more appropriately.  Help me disrobe please!"

I tried to smile and pretend I was helping her in a joking way, but I ended up taking my wife's necklace off, then with her sitting on the bed, kneeling in front of her and removing her shoes.  She grinned at me as I continued to kneel and slid my hands up her skirt to unroll her stockings.
"Gently now!  That's a sweet little dear!" she teased.  Then she stood up again and I removed her skirt, blouse, then underwear.  She stood in front of me and put her hands on her hips. Chided me gently.
"Do I have to tell you everything?  Get me my robe, then go and run the shower for me.  I'll dry myself once I've finished, then you can take your own turn in the shower."

I did as I was told and hung up her skirt and blouse as she requested, and threw her undies into the dirty laundry basket.  She didn't take too long in the shower, but I suffered another embarrassment – could NOT undo the back fasteners of the apron – they were just too awkward and too tight.
She smelled lovely when she got out and into her robe, so soft and appealing.  She made a tutting noise at me when I explained my problem.
"YOU getting ME to help you undress?  That's a bit rich – don't you think?"
But she laughed as she undid the hooks and eyes at my back.  "Better get a move on darling. I want a drink before our guests come, and they shouldn't be too long!"

For some reason I was tremendously sexed up in the shower, but with Joan's words echoing in  my ears I desisted from playing with myself.  Suppose she came in and caught me?  This made the shame even greater but it was still perplexing because, if anything, I became even sexier and the thought of her scorn almost made me cum  - but I managed to restrain myself.  I had a terrible time hiding my erection from her as I got dressed and I'm not too sure that I was successful because she seemed to have a perpetual half-smile on her face, but she said nothing.  To get my mind off my vague sexual fantasies, I finally asked as I put my shoes on.
"Oooh!  I meant to ask you earlier on.  Who's coming tonight other than Helen.  Do I know them?  Someone from your new job?"
"Didn't I tell you?"  (She knew damn well she hadn't, but I could see the enjoyment on her face).  "I bumped into Evelyn – you know that girl I thought you had a crush on? She had her girl friend with her – so I thought it would be a good idea to let you see how the land lay with her – get her out of your head sort of thing. Asked them both to come."

I looked at her in dismay.  "But Joan?  I never thought . . ."
She interrupted me firmly. "Didn't I just say that I would like a drink?"
"Yes, but. . ."
"Would you get your ass downstairs and get me a drink before you and Eileen get the final touches done for our guests arriving.  Now please!"
"Okay.  Sorry." I said falteringly and headed for the bedroom door.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" she asked coldly.

I patted my pockets, then shook my head.  "Don't know what I'm thinking of. Don't need my keys nor my wallet, do I?"
"I don't know what you're thinking about either! Think I bought you a nice hostess apron for fun?"
"Huh?  C'mon Joan!  You don't want me to wear that in front of other people, do you?"
"Of COURSE I do, silly! Now just stand still and let me fasten you into your pretty apron!  You want to look nice for Helen and Evelyn – don't you? And if not for them – for ME, surely?  Now hold still darling!"

She tied the bow at my back, then fastened me in.  Next, she put her hands on my hips and turned me around slowly until I was facing her, although I was frightened to even try to look her straight in the eye.  Preferred to look at the carpet instead.
"Please Joan?" I mumbled.  "Please don't humiliate me like this.  Please?"
Her soft hand slid under my chin and lifted my face up and it was impossible for me not to see her face.
"But darling?  Don't you SEE?  It's humiliating you that gives me ALL the fun!  Seeing you all meek and servile – like a little soft pansy!"  She plucked softly at the ruffles at my breast. "But you enjoy being humiliated too – don't you?  LOVE to have big, bad, Joan treat you meanly.  Isn't that true?"

"No Joan!  Honest!  I don't . ."
She laughed uproariously as she interrupted.   "Tell you what pussy!  I'll put my hand up your apron skirt – and if you DON'T have an erection, I'll let you take that pretty apron off for the night.  But if you DO have a hardon?"  She thought for a minute.  "We take the same size shoes. . . remember that Halloween where you almost wore mine?    So then you wear a nice pair of high heels for the rest of the night.  How's that, huh?"

I swallowed and she waited for me to answer.  Then grinning, she patted me possessively on the rump.  "Off you go sweetie. I'll be down in a minute or so.  You can have a nice tall Scotch and soda waiting for me.  Lots of ice."  I heard her giggle as I hurried away.

I was rushing down the stairs when I heard her come out onto the landing and call after me.  "Sweetie?  Just to increase your fun?  Make ABSOLUTELY sure that it's you that answers the door when our guests come!"

I honestly had thoughts of running away as I descended the stairs, but common sense was working.  I had no money to speak of – didn't even know where my car keys were now and – to make matters worse – I was effectively imprisoned in a hostess gown!
Eileen came out of the dining room wiping her hands on a towel "What was that all about?" she asked.  Then she saw my apron.  She did her very best to hide a giggle and was mostly successful, although her mouth quirked with the effort.  "Oh NO Steve!  She making you wear that?"
"Yes!"  I said, almost weeping. "Wants me to answer the door in it too!"

To my surprise, Eileen simply shrugged. "Ah well, throwing you in at the deep end may not be the worst thing that can happen, you know."  She wasn't wearing her apron, but asked me kindly after a moment's thought.  "Would it help you any if I wore my apron as well?"
"I don't know why it does – but would you Eileen?  I'd really appreciate it."
"Sure!" she said and headed for her bedroom.

I went into the bar and mixed a Scotch and soda just the way Joan wanted it.  Put it on a tray and took it into the sitting room.  Joan hadn't arrived there yet, but must have been right behind me because I heard her voice at my back. "If that's my drink, I'll have it darling."
I turned around and met her halfway into the room and proffered the tray. She took the drink and smiled.  "You know dear? I should have pressed the point about you curtseying the other night.  I'll bet you would look ever so sweet!  Especially looking the way you are.  Don't you agree?"

I was looking at her helplessly when Eileen entered the room.  She obviously had heard Joan so spoke up.  "For goodness sake Joanie!  Can't you leave the poor boy alone – at least for a while?  You're just humiliating the poor dear!"
Joan turned a negligent head in her direction. "Hello again aunt Eileen.  You think I'm being a trifle mean to my sweetheart here?  I'm not – not really.  I'm just doing what the sweet little darling wants - amn't I Steven?"
"Joan?  STOP it!  Torment Steven all you want later on – but I don't want a wrecked dinner party – okay?"  Eileen was starting to sound very aggrieved.

Joan didn't take offense.  "If I was out of line?  I'm sorry." She said to me. Then she added.  "I'll get you later."  Laughed.
Just then the doorbell rang.  "Well?" She said to me.  "Time to strut your stuff big boy!"  Then she laughed sardonically.
Heart in mouth, I opened the door to Helen.  Her mouth actually fell a little open when she saw me, then she recovered.  "You're REALLY taking this helping hand business VERY seriously, are you not?" She asked me, but didn't wait for an answer, just handed me her handbag. "Nice outfit!" she tossed over her shoulder at me as she went and greeted Joan and Eileen.

Eileen got us all drinks and I was lucky enough to have some time to recover before the  other guests arrived.  I hadn't been too sure as to how Joan expected me to behave, but it was soon obvious that Eileen had been nice enough to be my co-host – or hostess  - so we could act normally once our duties were performed.  Accordingly, I was able to get a drink and some munchies under my belt for a while.  Gradually recover some aplomb.

Both Joan and Helen were wearing some sort of jump suit. Don't get me wrong, they were decidedly female clothes they wore – and their makeup and jewelry testified as to what side of the gender fence they belonged.  Nonetheless, Eileen and I were distinctly feminine in our outfits.  Naturally, I was wearing a polo shirt and chinos under my apron – loafer shoes as well.  But with the fullness of the apron and the ruffles and sheer materials? My aunt in law and myself, were the more effeminate of the foursome.  This took a little getting used to, but I gradually accepted my new position in life.  Then the doorbell rang again.

I looked at Joan, hoping for some mercy, but she just waved me toward the door.  Trying to look as natural as possible, I went and opened the door.  GAPED!

Evelyn I recognized immediately, although she was 'butch' in dress than I had ever seen her before – not overly masculine – but black pants with a wide patent leather belt, a white, shirt front blouse and black loafers.  Plain small gold earrings were her only jewelry  - except for a black leather strapped man's wristwatch.  She DID look attractive though.  Short waved hair and a little makeup.  Lovely white teeth.  She looked a little surprised at my get up, but laughed and said "Hi Steven.  When you're finished ogling my date Veronica?  I'll introduce you."

I wasn't really ogling her, because she was almost doing the same thing!  Eying me up in the most obvious way – and I had my very first instance of KNOWING why women HATE to be dressed identically to other women.

There was no question about it.  Veronica was a girl.  Fresh faced and well made up, with curling blonde hair.  High heeled shoes to match her outfit – and it was on her outfit that my eyes rested. No, it wasn't an apron – but if you could have imagined a dress that was as close to my apron as was possible in color, fabrics, and style as my apron – you wouldn't be far wrong!

To make things worse – better? We actually were very alike. She was a little taller than myself – but she had heels on. Our builds weren't too dissimilar either - she was a trifle plump for a girl – and I was skinny for a male.  Her complexion was very similar to mine and though her hair had a gloss and a different setting than mine, the shade of our hair was damn near identical!  Evelyn noticed it as she introduced Veronica to me (I held my hand out for a shake, but she ignored it and came and gave me an air kiss instead) so laughingly commented.  "Seeing you two?  I don't know whether Veronica is a male impersonator or Steve is female one!"

"Oh wow!"  Joan said coming up behind me and laughing.  "I see what you mean Evelyn, though I don't think that either of them could be described as looking  particularly masculine!  But come in.  Come in!  Let's get the introductions over and Steve can get you a drink."

With that the ladies came in.  Evelyn wasn't carrying a purse, but Veronica was. She handed it over to me with a smile, then followed Joan and Evelyn into the sitting room.  By the time I got the purse put away and followed them there Eileen had been introduced so took orders then went and freshened up Joan and Eileen's drinks, and got Tequila for out guests.  Evelyn drank hers straight while Veronica had a light Sunrise – a mixture of tequila, orange juice and grenadine.  I put all the drinks on a tray then handed them out.  Took the tray back to the bar and freshened up my own drink, then headed back and joined the others.

Eileen and I had put munchies out earlier and we all dug in.  I think that the alcohol eased things considerably.  I actually felt quite comfortable by the time I'd had two martinis.

I honestly don't think that there was any attempt to form pairs, but we all seemed to gravitate into couples.  Joan and Evelyn got on like a house on fire – Eileen and Helen quickly found a common interest in handicrafts and when I'd gone back to the kitchen to refill some munchies, Veronica joined me there and gave me a hand.  She was a lovely companion, very outgoing and sweet.  Friendly and a great help in the kitchen and we chatted companionably as I busied myself.

Does it sound strange of me to admit that dinner was a rousing success?  Maybe it would look better if I said how ashamed I was at my feminine dress, and the fact that my wife showed that she 'expected' me to do what I was told – and that I certainly didn't argue. But the truth is that the few drinks before dinner and a few glasses of wine – then a tiny liqueur after dinner with our coffee didn't hurt – and I forgot about my feminine attire and had a wonderful time joining everyone in a lighthearted conversation.

It was a little embarrassing when Joan addressed me after dinner.  "Why don't you start tidying up darling?  No need to do anything but stack the dishes in the kitchen, you can do them tomorrow.  The rest of us girls can retire to the sitting room and chat."  I nodded assent, although my face was somewhat red at the words she'd chosen.  Felt that I'd been lumped in with the girls, so to speak.  Got up and started.  Eileen got up from the table at the same time to start helping me.

Veronica was at out backs in our first trip to the kitchen.  "Why don't you lend me that apron?"  She asked Eileen.  "This is silly."
"But you're a guest!" Eileen said.
"And you're NOT?" Veronica laughed.  "I live in this complex now and I want a chance to get to know Steffi better.  Hardly have been here long enough to make any friends here so don't want to miss this chance. I don't know when you're thinking of going back to Scotland, but why don't you go back and join Helen – I KNOW she'd rather talk to you than me – and the other two are yakking about football – so come ON!"
"Well, if you insist, I won't argue."  Eileen laughed. "Help me off with this apron though, would you?"

A moment or two later, I was fastening Veronica into Eileen's apron. "What's with this Steffi business?" I asked, trying hard to be non-committal, although my face was red with embarrassment.
"Finished?" She asked, meaning with the apron.
She turned around and faced me, her face serious.  "I don't know what's going on between you and Joan, and I don't want to interfere – but she's dropped 'Steffi' into her conversation a few times . ."
"That's joke!" I interrupted quickly.
"Oh come ON!" she said impatiently.  "She sees the way that Evelyn treats me – and she's making it pretty damn obvious that she wants to treat you the same way."
"That's embarrassing!"  I said.
"You trying to be insulting?" She asked me quietly.

I swallowed.  "Sorry Veronica.  I didn't mean it in any bad way.  But you're a woman."
She drew herself up, a little indignant.   "I don't see what that has to do with anything.  Evelyn's bossy and I'm not.  Joan's bossy and you're not.  As far as I can see, she's a helluva lot bossier than you – and I haven't seen you argue with her yet, have I?"
I looked down at the carpet.
"No.  Not really."
"Well – let's you and I be friends.  Okay – Steffi?"
I nodded then she kissed me lightly.  "That's better.  Now let's get on with the work!"

It really didn't take us long to do all that was necessary, even though Veronica decided that we should load up the dishwasher at least once, and roughly wash the rest, before rejoining the ladies.  Joan and Evelyn had had a few more drinks and I became very conscious of Joan's eyes on me and regardless of how I tried, I couldn't stop the apron skirts from swishing effeminately around me.  I saw her whisper something to Evelyn – and they'd both roar with laughter then repeat the laughing when they'd see me now and then, flitting around with Veronica.
She saw my embarrassment.  "Don't worry about them!  They lose whatever manners they have when booze gets into the picture.  You're doing FINE!" 

But she glared at Joan and Evelyn when we both got back and I think they knew better than take on a tigress – because I think that Veronica had decided to take me under her wing by this time – making me a cub of hers. So she and I got fresh drinks and sat down with the others.

Quite a discussion was going on about the merits of photographs on telephones as versus a normal camera.  Veronica and I shrugged and looked at each other.  Obviously neither one of us gave a damn.  But Evelyn and Joan were going at it.  Finally, Evelyn said. "Hey.  I'll take a photo with my phone and you take the same picture with your camera, and we'll see which one comes out best.  Okay?"

Then Veronica and I were posing for Evelyn as she took our photo with her phone.  Then Joan took the two of us again, using her digital camera.  Comparing results on Joan's LED as versus Evelyn's telephone?  Frankly I couldn't tell that much difference – and I don't think that anyone else could either.  But as it was our first time together – and Eileen due to go back to Scotland on some unknown date – it ended up being some kind of photo fest.

So now we were all involved in taking pictures – and often all of us would crowd together and use the timer on Joan's camera. To be honest, I was getting quite sexually aroused.  Let's face it, I was right in the middle of a bunch of semi-drunk women – and I fitted right in – as we clambered all over each other, so that there was a lot of touching and rubbing going on.

Then Evelyn wanted a picture of just her and Veronica and they posed together, with Veronica sitting on Evelyn's knee and pouting at her provocatively. Then Joan wouldn't have anything else but that she and I get our photograph taken.  I went to sit beside her, but that wouldn't do – I had to sit on her knee!  I had to pout my lips as if begging for a kiss!  Then Joan and Evelyn suggested that the four of us get a photograph taken in the same way.  This time, Joan and Evelyn sat together on the couch then Veronica and I sat on their knees.  We had the photographs taken, then as if on a prearranged signal Joan and Evelyn, simply pulled Veronica and I onto our sides and started kissing us.   To my horror, Joan laughed and ran her hand up inside my apron in a very lewd manner, and to my shame, my squeals and giggles were practically indistinguishable from Veronica as Evelyn was treating her the same way!

*     *     *

"Well? For what it's worth, I think everyone had a good time.  Agree?" Joan said, sitting at the dressing table in her nightgown and holding out the hairbrush for me to use as I came in the bedroom door after finishing the cleanup downstairs.
"Oh yes dear."  I said, taking the brush and positioning myself behind her, starting in on her hair.  "Though maybe you had a wee bit too much to drink?  Find it hard to tell being in a good mood?"
"Could be.  Had a good time."  She agreed in high good humor.  "Must say that I got to like Evelyn.  She's quite a character."
"She is that!"  I agreed.
"And I think that you've made a nice little friend in Veronica.  You both seemed to get on very well."
"Yes.  She IS nice."  I was perfectly honest.
"I'm SO glad you like her.  I suggested to Evv – that's what Evelyn likes to be called – that we all go out as a foursome some night – a sort of double date."

This didn't please me so well.  I had the feeling that it could get embarrassing for me – probably would – but only made noises.  "We were silent for a little while before she added.   "I thought you'd be SO happy to get together with your new friend. You two looked so cute together.  Cute!  Almost like sisters. Flitting around in your yellow dresses."

I squirmed. "Aw c'mon Joan.  That's embarrassing!"
"Embarrassing?  That's silly!  You looked so natural – you and she – just girls together."  The mockery was thick in her voice now then she added.  "But you've stopped brushing my hair dear!  Get on with it!  How will you ever learn to be a maid if you keep stopping in the middle of things!"  She was sounding a little drunker all the time.

I started brushing again but said nothing.  She continued. "I didn't make you cry – did I dear.  Cry – again?" She looked intently into the mirror as I lowered my gaze so that I didn't have to meet her eyes then she kept on.  "I don't know where I got the idea that only women cry and I never, ever, thought I'd see you weep like a girl.  But there again, I never thought I'd see you in dresses either."
"I’m not wearing a dress!"  I mumbled.
She hiccupped.  "Could have – could have – fooled me!  Hard to tell you and Veronica apart!  I hope you don't mind – don't mind – me being – hiccup – honest.  But she IS prettier than you!"
"Please Joan?  Please stop this."  I said it sincerely.

She seemed to sober up somewhat.  "I'm sorry."  She sounded sincere.  "But the time has come for a serious chat.  Come here and sit beside me, would you?"
"You're not teasing?"
"No dear.  I'm not.  Come and sit with me."  She moved over on the little bench she was sitting on and looked up at me until I went around. "Put the brush down on the table dear.  I don't really feel in the mood for you to brush my hair much more tonight. Want to get to bed, but I think we should talk first – don't you?"
"Any special topic?"  I asked, putting the brush down and sitting beside her.
"Us, silly!" She said, putting an arm around my shoulder and pulling me in closer to her.

I was half expecting a kiss, but she was quiet for a moment then started.  "I'm a little inebriated darling, but that probably makes it easier for me to confess."
"Confess?  You have something on your mind?"
"Yes.  You're perfectly aware that our relationship has changed recently?"
"Oh yes. Maybe it is a good idea to talk.  I've been thinking . . "
"No offense dear.  But when I said we should talk?  I meant that I should talk – and you should listen.  Fair enough?"  She squeezed me a little as she interrupted me.
I knew where I stood.  "Yes dear."
"You see?"  She continued.  "I think that my true personality is starting to come out. I was brought up to have distinct ideas of a wife's place in a marriage.  Yeah, I made out that I was a feminist – but in all honesty, I don't think I really cared for female equality and all that stuff.  I sorta felt that YOU were the boss, and my job was to please you."
"You did.  You DID!" I said.
"Thank you dear, but be quiet would you?" I saw her look at me in the mirror.  She seemed to be a lot more sober now.

"That night that I thought you were screwing Evelyn? I worked myself into a real rage.  I was SO hurt!  The fact that you wanted another woman over me!"
"But I didn't . ."
"Would you HUSH?"  She squeezed my shoulder tightly. "Now, as I was saying? I worked myself into a real tizzy.  But underneath it all?  I think that I truly expected you to slough everything I said off.  Laugh at me, or talk down to me.  Make fun of me being emotional, like a woman!  Maybe even thump me a few times to maintain your position."
I couldn't help myself.  "But I didn't, did I?"

"Exactly!  You were so busy protecting yourself – then crying for Pete's sake! I was SO lost! Kinda humiliated, to tell the truth.  But then I noticed that I was getting a real sexual charge out of lording it over you!  And when I saw that you were getting sexually aroused too?  I couldn't resist trying to make love to you. It was pretty good, huh?"  She giggled a little. "You little roundheels you!"
I blushed and she paused for a second before continuing.

"I was lost for a while after that night.  Might even have been a bit ashamed of myself – maybe even of you for giving in as easily as you did.  Started being kinda mad at the very thought that I might be married to a sissy."
"Aw Joan!" I wailed.
"Hush!  But I kept getting this sneaky feeling and finally faced up to the fact that I loved you more than ever.  It finally dawned on me that you were exactly what I wanted.  A soft little male!  Realized that I was actually in a win-win situation."
"I'm glad you're happy!"  I retorted, stung by her words. " But how do you figure the win-win bit?"

"Now don't be getting all huffy!"  She laughed.  "Not that I care about that.  You see I realize now that I get a huge kick – a real sexual turn on my having you do what I say."
"Humiliating me?"
"I'm not so sure that all of this humiliation bit just might be an act that you're putting on.  But face it dear, seeing you do what I want is a real turn on!  Got you brushing my hair and doing maid things in the bedroom.  Wearing aprons and doing girly things in the rest of the house!"  She giggled.  "Look at tonight!  Have you swishing about in the closest thing there is to a dress! In front of other women no less!  Tee Hee!  Have you sitting on my knee at the same time as Veronica is sitting on HER girlfriends lap – and you're just as giggly and soft as she is when I kiss you and put my hand up your dress!"

I couldn't help being indignant.  "Aw Joan!  I don't do everything you say – not at once anyway!"

"Huh!  That's another way I have fun!  Get all bossy and force you into crawling to me.  I REALLY get sexy then!  That's what I mean when I say that I'm in a win-win situation.  If you want to please me?  Every so often you start off voluntarily, doing something nice."
"Such as?"
"Making yourself nicer."  She shrugged. "Making sure that you're smooth all over? Putting on a little perfume before we go to bed?  That kind of thing. That turns me on.  But if you decide that you DON'T want to that.  Don't want to please me and make the occasional change – then I make you.  THAT really turns me on!  So I can't lose!"

I could see what she was saying now. "I don't have anything to say about this?" I added bitterly.

She shrugged again.  "Maybe not.  But like I just said, I'm not so sure that you'll not enjoy becoming what suits you better – just like I am.  I'm not a psychologist, but from what I've seen over the last few weeks?  You're more suited to the wifely role than I am.  At the same time, I'm better suited to being the man of the house than you are."
Then she turned me and kissed me solidly.  "But enough talk.  Matter of fact Steffi? I'm sexy right now! What do you think we should do about it?"
"Aw Joan.  Don't you start with the Steffi bit now!  My name is Steve!" I was complaining with no real hope of success.  "You did it in front of Veronica!"

"Ooooh!  Dreadful!" She laughed.  "But if you have no suggestions, I've been thinking about something?"  With that, she dug into a dressing table drawer and pulled out some yellow, satiny, fabric.  "Put these pajamas of for tonight, would you darling?" and she handed them to me.
"I . .I . . I . ."  I was stammering frightfully, the material slithering in my hands.

She pursed her lips, but there was a smile lurking behind the sternness.  "Steffi?  Do as I say, will you?  I know that I told you how much I adore humiliating you – but honestly?  I just want to get you into bed. So don't be a naughty pansy dear.  Just do as Joan asks you to – okay?  Put your nice pajamas on.  They're a nice yellow – and you KNOW how much I like you in that color."
I could feel any strength I had disappearing.  "Do I have to, Joan?"

End  of Part 4


rocketdave said...

I believe it was when I first ordered a story from you, you called me Dee, which didn't bother me, though I also wasn't sure how to react. Was I expected to be using a girl's name? If so, that wasn't one I'd pick. When I brought that up as a point of interest in our later correspondence, I think you kind of took it the wrong way and thought I was making a "bloody fuss over a name."

I often think that if I had created a separate, feminine online persona for myself from the get-go, it might have simplified things. For one thing, when I started to do crossdressing-themed artwork, I might have felt less embarrassed about it. Then again, it might have become too difficult to keep up a pretense. Some people seem adept at throwing themselves into a different identity, but even with the relative anonymity of the internet, I guess I'm not totally comfortable at playing pretend. I once belonged to a forum under the user name Trevor for some stupid reason, and even that got tiresome after a while. If being called by a different name is enough to fluster me, I can imagine how confusing it would get if people constantly thought of me as a girl as well.

I admit that in my interactions with people online who use female pseudonyms, but aren't actually female by gender, I tend to become rather uncertain about what pronouns I'm supposed to use when referring to them; to avoid having to deal with the issue, I usually labor to keep from using the words "he" or "she," etc., altogether. So, I guess someone as mixed-up as me is not the best person to advise how you should refer to yourself or others.

Bea's TV Station said...

ME? Criticise you objecting to a phony name I made up for you? NEVER! Must have been somebody else! (I'm far too polite to do something like that!)

But you did see what I was getting at. I dislike the term "gurl" so don't use it. At the same time, I wish to hell there was some way that I could KNOW - and address someone by the name - or gender that he/she prefers!

Anonymous said...

I guess the only way to go with this, is get to know the individual and then you'll know which gender they prefer. Sorry if I sound like Little Miss Obvious. We're just a very colorful band of the gender spectrum and really, there's never been an industry standard for humans and if we're lucky, there never will be.

So I tend to address new acquaintances by the name they give me. Occasionally I might try asking, "May I call you ...?" which is a bit of a gambit, some are charmed by the suggestion, others, not so much.

Xaxasissy said...

I don't even shave everyday; but I like to be Xaxa when I speak with all you girls! XD

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