Sunday, September 25, 2011

Apologies - and a few Comments. Plus a New Serial.

Hello.  I'm sorry to have been so long - but a combination of health issues - and a wee bit discouragement led to a delay.  In addition to that?  Some time I spent working on getting some ducuments into Epub format.  Don't let ANYONE kid you - that is a royal pain in the ass.  But?  There is something good coming out of it.

My prices are down - quite a lot actually, though it IS going to take me a while to convert my long stories.  But?  A word to the wise.  In trying to get myself known to the much wider population that Epub style documents have? I've converted a lot of the short stories I give away as 'freebies' at the moment to documents for sale.   Now?  Don't buy them - unless you want to download them to a Ipod or Kindle or suchlike - because you probably have read them already.

But But But?  When I do start to publish my long stories on Epub?  The price will be lesser than it is right now - and I will be able to do something that I can't do with Lulu - and that is give anyone who orders through this page a discount.  But that will take some weeks yet - so bear with me.  I will publish what is offered as I go along.

I'm starting a new Serial this morning - but before I do?  Something that has puzzled me for a long time.

Ever heard of Gaussian distribution?  It's quite simple really.  Says that just about anything  checked can be shown as a bell shaped graph.  Take Masculinity.  There ARE feminine males - and MASCULINE males - right?  So?  The more feminine males will show on the left side of the bell - the more masculine on the right side?  Got it?  Now do the same thing for women.  (Make sure that you keep the more masculine on the right side).

Now, put the two graphs together - still using Masculinity / Femininity as a base.  You'll have two bell shaped graphs - with the females on the left - and the males on the right.

But?  We're all of us aware that masculine women are more masculine than us sissies - right?  Which mens that some of the women's bell is intersecting with the male.  Roughly speaking then, there is an almost equality - there are just about as many masculine women - as there are sissy males.

The big question?  WHERE THE HELL ARE THEY?

Look at Mrs.  Silk chat room for example.  There are subs there all over the place - all kissing up to the few dommes that show up.  And?  I think you'll agree that  helluva lot of the dommes are MALES to begin with.  Now, the point I'm trying to make?  How do we get those women - whom I'm SURE we know how to treat - over to join us?

It's a puzzlement!  But now for the serial:

Taken Over

By Bea

I don't think that anyone in the office believed I hired Susan for her qualifications.  I could see Stan eyeing her up from the minute I started to interview her.  As the only other male in the office, I knew he had a fairly low opinion of me – felt that HE should be office manager – had sneered something about family connections when Aunt Ada had given me the position – but I think he relished the idea of having such an attractive girl working alongside us.  The girls in the office all smirked at me knowingly.  Aunt Ada blinked when she first saw her.  "Geez Danny!  She's a real looker!  Hope she can type – because if SHE can't, you'd better learn real quick."
Then she laughed and patted me on the back.  "About time you started showing interest in the opposite sex.  I mean, I know you ain't gay, but even I was starting to wonder."

But I grinned to myself.  Susan was pretty – if not beautiful.  Blonde hair – a soft curling cap around a pert, intelligent, face.  Bright blue eyes – a perfectly formed mouth and the proverbial shell-like ears.  A fantastic body!  Dressed elegantly and yet was not flashy.  Spoke quietly, but was charming to everyone.  The truth was, I HAD hired her because of her qualifications.  Okay, she was given the title Administrative  Assistant – but she was my secretary.  And, oh lordy!  Was she ever a secretary!  Lightning fast on a keyboard or typewriter – even took SHORTHAND!  Would take my mumbled dictation and turn out memos of jeweled precision.  She was PERFECT!  Had no problem with making my coffee or tea – she won my heart in days.

About a week after she started I was just coming out of my office into her cubicle.  She was sitting there, repairing her lipstick, and looking into a compact.  A picture of pure femininity that fascinated me enough to make me stare for a moment.  Her eyes must have caught my cessation of movement and slid to the side to see me.  Then, as if in slow motion, she turned her head.  Her eyes then widened a trifle and she smiled at me.  Pouted prettily at me, then held out the lipstick tube and the compact towards me invitingly.  "Like to try?" she asked.

Aghast – what did she think I was?  I blushed deeply, and tried to laugh it off.  "Ah .  Thanks, but no thanks.  Not my shade I'm afraid, ha ha!"
She snapped her compact closed with one hand, then put it down on her desk.  Then, still looking directly at me, she twisted the lipstick tube so that the little red penis-like thing actually came out towards me a little, then was slowly pulled back into the tube.  Still looking at me steadily, she capped the lipstick.   Smiled nicely.  "Yes.  You're probably right.  A little too red for you.  Maybe some other time?"  Then she gave her little tinkling laugh.  "Why, you're blushing sir.  Did I embarrass you?"

I didn't answer her question.  Instead I pretended that I had something to do and took off hurriedly.  I wasn't sure, but thought I heard a smothered giggle behind me.

During the next few weeks, her efficiency actually increased!  She was rapidly becoming indispensable.  Very popular with everyone,  Courteous and deferential to me at all times she was the perfect employee.  But she started smiling at me in a way that made me nervous.  A slightly seductive element in her eyes, a slight pout to her lips.  Almost as if she shared some secret with me.  And sometimes, just for a second, she'd bat her eyelashes at me or actually pout invitingly in an obvious way, but never in front of anyone else of course.

Inside my private office the eyelash fluttering and pouting was even more obvious.  Once she actually leaned over my desk and stared at me.  Smiling of course, but saying nothing.
"Yes?  You want something Susan?" I mumbled, my mouth dry with a kind of fear.  She blinked as if awakening from some kind of trance.  "Oh no sir.  Sorry.  I was just daydreaming there for a moment."

Also in the office?  I don't know how to describe it, but suddenly I had the feeling that she was taking up all of the space – was always feeling crowded by her.  Found myself as if backing away from her – and as if she was pursuing me?  Discovered that I felt more comfortable for a while by making sure I remained seated in my chair, but then she just seemed to inexorably be coming closer and closer to where I sat, until I felt as if she was towering over me.  One day, I was so un-nerved by her closeness that I said "Susan?  Why don't you have a seat?  I'm sure you'd be more comfortable."
"Why thank you sir.  That's very considerate of you," she said – then perched her backside on top of my desk – even closer to me than she had been! 

I actually started to tell her that this was not what I meant, but she forestalled me by speaking first. "You know sir?  You are the nicest, most considerate boss I've ever had.  You're the sweetest too!"  her elegant nylon sheathed knee showed under the hem of her tailored skirt and she swung her foot in a very relaxed manner.  Smiling down on me now, she leaned forward and actually patted me maternally on my cheek.  "Yes!  Definitely, the sweetest!" she said, looking very much like some conqueror beaming down on her prize.

From then on, she sat there while taking dictation, though now and then, she'd suggest – very tactfully of course – some modification, which always sounded better – which normally I'd take, though I gradually started to feel as if was taken for granted.  One day, I demurred saying I thought my wording better.  I knew it wasn't, but just felt I had to show some authority.  Was absolutely stunned when she leaned forward and patted my knee.  "Now sir?  We both know that's not true, don't we?" and fixed her blue eyes on mine. 

I was the first to look away. "I guess it doesn't make any difference!" I blustered, but my voice sounded weak and petulant, even to me.  From then on. all of her suggestions  - well more like suggested corrections were, naturally, taken.  Then a week or so later?  She started to sit and take little scribbled shorthand notes, smiling at me all the while – even looking out of the window at times-  and then would later present a memo typed just the way SHE wanted it.  I would sign them, naturally.

The natural progression?  She'd come in during the early morning and say "Any memos today, sir?"  I learned to have a list of memos that needed to be typed ready for her then, once she had them ready?  I was to sign them, preferably without reading them.  Then?  She mentioned that my handwriting was so bad – why didn't I type my list up for her? (I know that many of the women in the office raised their eyebrows when it became a common sight of me to be sitting out in Susan's office, typing 'something' while she'd be in another part of the office chatting to someone – job related chats of course,  but I saw no reason to try and explain.)

Now, you must keep in mind that Susan was still an exemplary employee.  As my secretary, she wielded a fair amount of power in the office, but no one took this amiss.  Far from it.  The other women adored her.  Her relationship to Stan?  That was a different story.

He was, as I indicated, a senior employee in the office.  As such, felt that he carried some weight – which, in all honesty, he should have.  But once Susan was established, it was as if he was out of favor with everyone.  You can tell when someone in an office is on the outs with everybody – and he most definitely WAS.  His complaints about lack of support – or rude behavior – increased to an almost ridiculous level and, though no complaints were ever lodged about him, I could see that he was being frozen out.

In the meantime?  I was gradually being accepted in a way I'd never been before – except by Stan of course.  The women had all become very deferential to me.  Gave me smiling "Good Mornings" and were always eager to do anything I asked of them.  I convinced myself that the stigma of nepotism that had clouded my acceptance in the office had disappeared now that the girls (I'd taken to calling them that) had got to know me.

With Susan? We had become friends.  It's hard to explain how this had come about.  Frankly, it was as if I could see her power growing in the workplace – and jumped on the bandwagon, so to speak.  I just know that all of a sudden, she and I would have our coffee together each and every morning – in my office.  But I was fascinated by the woman. It was as if I couldn't see enough of her, be in her company enough – even though I was distinctly nervous in her presence.  Get all tense and dry mouthed. And, she knew!  Would smile her little enigmatic smile at me and practically sup my discomfiture with a spoon. It was if she expected me to hang about around her – wait anxiously for her words.  And always that enigmatic smile.

We'd chat about various things – world news, local events - although she'd never discuss sports  with me.  I knew that she was very knowledgeable in that area – I'd heard her talking about the local and national teams with some fervor to the other girls – but any time I'd raise that subject, she'd fix me with the catlike stare  that I'd become accustomed to.  "You don't really want to talk about that, do you?" she'd say in an amused sort of way.  And I'd blush.

But increasingly?  The topics of conversation would verge on the feminine.  She'd tell me of clothes – or lingerie – she'd bought, and ask my opinion.  If I responded with the usual male ignorance – she'd explain.  And I'd find myself the recipient of mini-lectures on materials, lingerie, makeup, fashion – and other conversational subjects normally covered amongst women.

Then, one morning, we seemed to advance into another phase.
"Sir?" she giggled. "May I ask a VERY large favor?"
"Of course Susan!  Anything within my power!" I responded gallantly.
She appeared to blush, although I had the feeling she was acting for some reason. "Well?  Silly me!  I buttoned my blouse all wrong this morning – and I feel like SUCH a ninny! Do you think you could help me?"
"Don't see why not Susan. But?"  I looked at the front of her blouse that looked as if it had NO buttons at all.  "It doesn't look like that would be much of a problem?  I don't SEE any buttons." I joked.
"Oh!  You're such a silly!" she said, removing her tailored suit jacket and turning around to face away from me.

Awestruck, I looked at the row of tiny, fabric-covered buttons that fastened her into her blouse – down the back. – with one, obviously missed, about the middle.
"Ha ha!" I said.  "You wouldn't want to trust me with that!  Need a woman for that sort of thing!"

She looked over her shoulder at me.  Not smiling.  "But I asked YOU. And you said . ."
"Okay!" I capitulated.
She smiled the smile of a conqueror.  "Thank you dear.  But will you undo ALL of the buttons first?  I want to make absolutely sure we have everything lined up properly before you start doing me up again."
"But that seems patently ridic . ."

Obedient now, I unbuttoned her blouse, my nervous fingers trembling as I undid every small fastener while she stood regal and still, as I slowly, and fumbling, undid her blouse.  When all of the buttons were undone and her blouse gaped at the back, she totally surprised me by simply removing the blouse and turning to face me.

She was gorgeous! Smooth breasts, the orbs just barely visible in elegant oyster shade satin bra lace cups, her matching camisole further enhancing her beautiful figure.
"Remember I was telling you about Belgian lace the other day sir? I thought you might be interested in seeing it."  She gently fingered the lace edging of her camisole.  "Isn't it lovely?" she asked.
I licked my lips.  "Ah yes Susan,  very pretty, but . ."

She took my breath away by simply taking my hand and pulling it up gently to her bosom.  "Here sir?  Just feel this material!"
"But what happens if someone comes in?" I stammered.
"Oh, for goodness sake!" she laughed. "The girls won't think anything of it if they see it's only you. Here, take it between your finger and thumb.  Just feel that workmanship!"

I felt that I should object to her statement somehow, but didn't. Did as she'd told me instead. "Oh yes, it's lovely material." I admitted, feeling the material between my fingers but terrified that I'd accidentally touch her breasts.  She didn't seem to care one way or the other though.

She smiled confidently at me as I stood there like a eunuch admiring the material of her lingerie. "See?" she crowed. "That wasn't so bad, was it. Now you can button me in again please."  And promoted now from being a castrated male to a ladies maid, I methodically buttoned her back into her clothes, while she chattered away telling me where she bought her undies and how she had everything custom tailored.  "A girl has got to look her best these days, don't you agree sir?" she said.  then, before I could answer she added. "You have lovely soft hands, but did I just feel a tiny snag on my blouse there?  Might have to see about a manicure for you – shan't we?"

But as I was saying, the only fly in the ointment was Stan.  Susan had always been careful to speak reasonably well of him – but it was more damnation by faint praise more than anything else, I always thought.  But one day, she was in a cold fury about something.  When I commented that she didn't seem to be in too good a mood, her eyes actually flashed dangerously at me!
"You're not mad at me Susan, are you?" I asked nervously.
She blinked, as if surprised. "Oh no sir!  Mad at you?  I know my place better than that, sir."
"Well?  What is it.  I'm the manager here, am I not?" I said grandly.  "You're a valuable employee here and if something – or someone – is bothering you, I have a right to know.  Surely?"

She sighed. "I don't mean to complain sir – nor do I want to sound sexist – but it's Stan.  Did you know that all us girls call him Stan the Man?"
Her tone of voice left me in no doubt – it was not a complimentary soubriquet, but I had to laugh.  "I have the feeling that's supposed to be an insult Susan – but I don't quite see it that way.  I'm a man too,  you know."
Her lips pursed. "But he's got all the nasty male attitudes.  He's masculine. You're sweet.  He's always chasing after the girls – and he's made lewd comments a few times.  He's even made derogatory comments about you, sir!"  She saw the puzzled look coming over my face.  "Not to ME sir – and I don't think any of the girls would care to make a direct accusation – can ruin a career with something like that these days – but he's creating a storm in a little teacup that would otherwise be a perfect place to work – if he wasn't here."  She placed a hand on my arm.  "Please sir?  I can see that you're angry.  But please don't fire him, please?"

I wasn't as put out as she seemed to think I was – or expect me to be -  but could see that she expected me to do something.  It was then that the thought struck me.  A quick call to Aunt Ada and Stan was given a small promotion – and a decent raise – but in a different building.  It wasn't until the following week when I was interviewing for his replacement that I sensed that Susan didn't want a male.  Naturally, as my assistant she sat in on the interviewing and I must admit that she was very adept at finding weaknesses in the male candidates, and strengths in the females.  I accepted her final recommendation, and became the only male in an office of women.

Everyone seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief and we all settled back down.  I actually became even more popular with the girls.  It came about this way.

Stan and I had often lunched together, though at other times I had something sent in.  Susan actually invited me to lunch one day – and demanded that she pay the bill, because it was her that had asked me.  As a joke, she held my chair for me as I sat, then did all of the ordering.  It was an upscale place and although I'd been embarrassed a little by her actions, she turned out to be an excellent lunch companion – and so I reciprocated by asking her out a few days later.  So we started having lunch together out of the office about one day a week.

About that same time, I had lunch sent in one day.  Susan had ordered it for me, so knew this.  Idly, she asked if I'd like to join her in her cubicle at lunchtime.  Not thinking, I thanked her and said that I would if nothing came up.

Well nothing came up and then she buzzed through to my office to let me know that my lunch had arrived and why didn't I come on and join her.  "Sure!" I said, then left my office.  Then stopped.  I'd forgotten that Susan often had some of the girls join her on days when she ate her lunch in the office.  She beamed at me and pointed to a chair.  "Why don't you sit there sir?"
As I took the seat indicated in the middle of the girls.  I was kinda shy and nervous, but managed to blurt out "Hey!  During lunch?  No need for that 'sir' business.  I'm simply Danny.  Okay?"

She saw my nervousness, I had no doubts about that, but she smiled her soft smile and answered. "Okay – Danny.  You've got a deal."  Spoke to the girls.  "Right, ladies?"
"Welcome to our little hen party – Danny," a girl called Isobel said – and I became a member of the group.

I don't quite know how it came about, but I seemed to become a firmly ensconced member – even on some days when Susan went out for lunch on her own – and, once it became a routine, it made more sense to have our little hen parties in my office – a lot more room.  I felt a little more in charge sitting in my chair, with the women circled in front of my desk, but even this authority was taken away from me over a period of time.
"You've got all us girls feeling subordinate to you again Danny."  Susan said one day.
"Whatever are you talking about?" I said.
"Well?  It's kinda hard to see you as a friend, one of us, when you sit behind that big old desk in that big old chair." she said jokingly.
"Yeah!" Alice the office girl laughed. "Maybe you should let us all take turns at sitting there.  That'd be fun!"

I didn't want to look like a bad sport and, after all?  I'd pressed the point that we were a democratic group at lunch time so accepted the decision with a fairly good presence.  There was some good natured squabbling over who was to take their turn first, but we they all ended up drawing straws for it (As I was sitting in the chair that particular day, I was to be automatically last in the order).

The next day was Alice's turn She squealed delightedly when she first sat in it though after a while she started to wear a troubled expression.  "You know Susan?  I don't feel comfy here. Why don't you take my turn?"
"Susan laughed.  "Thanks, but no thanks.  I'm not swapping my turn for yours."
Alice looked a little offended.  "I never said anything about swapping.  I was just offering you my turns is all.  I think you'll look good in that chair!"

Abashed, Susan thanked her and the exchanged seats. But then as one day followed the next, all of the other girls gave up their turns to her – and then it was my turn. I was actually going to sit their – it was my chair after all – but the girls just gave me such a collectively peculiar look that I succumbed. "Oh – I get to sit in it all the time Susan," I said.  "And you seem to enjoy it, so . ."
I hadn't intended to give it up permanently during our lunches – but it seemed to have been taken that way – and accordingly, I became a regular member of Susan's hen party coterie, all sitting around her admiringly while she ruled from her seat of power.

I blush to admit it, but I started crocheting.  Isobel was the one to suggest it to me one day when I complained about feeling stressed out. (Actually, Susan had taken over my assignments so much that I was starting to feel like a useless appendage about the office.  Made up for this by constantly acting harassed and worried).
"You need some kind of therapy Danny." She said (I was Danny all the time now).
"Don't have time to go to some shrink's office," I said.
She giggled.  "No.  I didn't mean that kind of thing.  I'll see you at lunchtime and explain better.  Okay?"

How does one resist a group of friendly, smiling , women intent on teaching you how to do something for your own good?  Especially when the essence of your masculinity has gradually been diluted with immersion in a female world.  Where only a goddess rules supreme – and you are considered to be, like everyone else in that little world – a subject of hers?

So while goddess Susan watched with kindly, amused, eyes, I was taught to crochet by three of the women.  Isobel, Edna, and Dorothy – and I was assimilated into another feminine group – a sub group perhaps, but one with an identity of its own – ' The crochet girls'. No one ever used that term directly to me of course, but I sometimes heard the four of us described that way out on the floor – although I'd swear it was not done in mockery.

The office efficiency had exploded since Stan's departure.  Aunt Ida was suitably impressed but was not so stupid as to believe that this was all because of me.  A surprise visit at the tail end of lunch time was more than enough to give her some idea of what  had been going on.  She talked to me privately in my office.  Did not even look askance as I blushingly put my crochet wool and hooks in my desk drawer.
"Sharp girl that Susan.  I thought you'd just hired another pretty little bimbo for your masculine ego to lord over  - but that wasn't it at all, was it?"
"No.  She's fantastic. But I saw that from the beginning." I admitted.
"You're not claiming to be the driving force behind this unit's performance increase?"
I laughed.  "Hell no!  Getting rid of Stan, was probably not something I'd have done on my own, but once he was gone, the whole place just moved on up into a higher gear."
"Susan jog you on that direction?"
"To tell the truth, dear aunt.  Yes."
"Can't say I'm surprised.  You may have a tiger by the tail with that one dear – though I think you're well aware of that, aren't you?"
"The thought HAS crossed my mind more than once dear," I admitted ruefully.
"Just be careful is all," she said and soon after that she departed.

It was a few days after that when Susan came into my office before work with both of our coffees in her hands.  Gave me mine then sat gracefully down across from me.  I'd got uncomfortable sitting in my desk chair when it was just she and I.  No idea why, but felt a lot happier when we'd sit closer to each other.
"It's time we had a talk, Danny," she said.

Her expression was kindly and her eyes held the hint of her smile, but somehow I felt nervous again.
"About anything in particular?" I replied casually – or at least as casually as I could make it.
"Oh yes.  You and me.  I think I should tell you some things about myself," she said.
"And you want me to reciprocate?  Unburden all of my secrets to you?" I said, still trying to be jovial.
Her eyes widened.  "What are you talking about Danny?  You have NO secrets from me.  I know you."
Her self assurance was invincible and my attempts at a casual conversation dissipated like smoke in the air.

She took a sip from her cup, then put it down again.  "I'm not a terrible person Danny, but sometimes?  I do terrible things."
"I find that hard to believe," I said.
"No you don't.  You're scared of me, aren't you?  Been scared of me since the day I started.  Please?  Let's not fuss and bother with a bunch of silly denials.  You're attracted to me, but you're also frightened of me, aren't you?"
"Yes."  I finally admitted it.

She nodded. "Well dear?  You have good reason to be scared of me.  I'm afraid I'm going to have to start treating you very badly.  Very badly indeed."
"Have to start?" I asked.
"Yes dear.  You see I have a nature that absolutely demands that I make certain men's life miserable."  She shrugged her shoulders.  "Sorry – but you're one of the type I just can't leave alone.  As I've told you before?  You're a nice, sweet, man.  Because of that, I tried to leave you alone – but I'm afraid the time has come for me to start to work on you. My nature won't let me be."

She truly sounded regretful, and her face showed traces of that same emotion, but it was as if she was stating a fact – something that I'd no say in.
"But suppose – let's just suppose that I won't let you do whatever it is you have in mind?" I asked – but there was a tremor in my voice.  She caught it.
"Listen to yourself Danny,  Voice getting all tremulous.  Mouth dry?"
"Thought so." She took another sip of her coffee. "You see, Danny?  I have this insatiable desire to make some type of men grovel before me – and have learned to recognize that type of man by his aura."  She laughed.  "Usually a sort of soft, fluffy, bluish, pinkish, aura – and you have it dear.  Oh, most certainly.  You have it – in spades!  A LOT more pink in it than blue as well!"

"You're going to make my life miserable because I have the wrong kind of aura?"  I tried to inject a note of disbelief into my voice.

End of Part 1

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Sheesh! Nearly forgot! Last part of Current Serial.

Sorry.  I've been so wrapped up in turning a lot of my stories into Epub format that I forget where I'm at.  You know?  For a tech idiot like me, it is a struggle.  At the same time?  I'm being introduced to fantastic new concepts.  My mouth is constantly agape with amaxement - and I have a helluva time keeping it shut.  But anyway?  (For those of you who DO read the bloody thing?) Here's the completion of the serial.

Real Husbands Don’t Cry

Part 6

To my discomfort, her hand snaked backwards and caressed me, feeling the texture of my skin underneath my pajamas.
"Mmmm?" she said after a while.  "Do I detect a difference here?'
I couldn't help but giggle.  "Veronica had some depilatories she suggested I use."  I replied.
"Lovely!  Make you nice and smooth!  Like this?"  She asked suddenly, her hand taking a hold of my erection.
"Oh Joan."  Was all I could say.

"Well then?  Let's go to bed?" She laughed. "I think that we're both in the mood, NO?"
I almost choked but managed. "Maybe not exactly yet?  Don't you think I've been VERY good?"

She was astounded at my seeming refusal to join her in bed.  "Huh? What the fuck are you talking about? Of COURSE you've been good!  Far better than I expected!"
"You don't think that I deserve a spanking then?" I managed.
"Have you lost your mind?"  She started impulsively then stopped suddenly. "You think that you DO?"  She asked me with a firm note in her voice.
"Don't you think that I've been awfully good?"  I asked, my voice quavering.

I think that she may have been confused, but answered strongly.  "Maybe!  But I'm hearing things in your voice!"  Then she giggled.  "This is so new and exciting!   Think I should discipline you?
I looked at the carpet. "No Joan!"  Then I looked up at her and fluttered my eyelashes, just as Veronica had suggested.  .
"My GOD!" She giggled.  "You have learned a lot today, haven't you? Why don't you come over mummy's knee, huh?  That what I say?"
And, conscious of my erection but slithering about in my satin cocoon, I slowly went over her knees, squealing and giggling as she spanked me lightly on my backside.  In bed a few minutes later, I gasped as she caressed my breasts first of all and then my privates before pulling my pajamas down and mounting me.

It was less embarrassing going down to help Eileen with breakfast while still wearing my pajamas and robe, but I was getting used to it.  I did have a hard time meeting Joan's eyes when she came down, but she didn't seem to be bothered in the slightest – made no effort to hide her hand stroking my rump suggestively – or asking me for more coffee.  She seemed more content all the time in her new role as master of the house – and settled in the idea that I was there to please HER.

It was a Sunday and the morning passed easily.  We all changed and I found to my delight that Joan was going to meet with some bridge playing buddies and that Eileen had a date to meet Helen at some large store where they sold handicraft stuff.  Eileen was concerned about leaving me with no transportation as Joan and she were taking the two cars, but it suited me just fine.  After they both left around noon, I called Veronica – and knowing that Evelyn was still gone – knew that Veronica would be delighted to meet with me again – and she was.

She knocked on the door less than ten minutes later.  I felt unsure as to how I should meet her – and I guess it showed.
"Hi Steffi!" She smiled. 
"Hi Veronica." I replied.
"That's silly!  Stop being so STIFF!  Now come here and greet me properly!  Kiss me lightly on both cheeks.  Come ON – you've seen girls do it millions of times."
Gulping a little, I did as she said. 

"Not bad.  With practice you'll get better."  She smiled.  "Stop looking so worried!"
"Well I feel guilty!"   I admitted as we worked our way into the sitting room.   "Haven't kissed many girls other than Joan for a long time."
She shook her head.  "Aha!  I see what your problem is!  Joan isn't a girl to you any more.  Better get that in your head!"
"Joan's your GUY silly. You may not qualify as her girl yet – but she's your guy.  Better get used to the concept.  You told me yesterday and I know now that you've accepted being her girl – you just need to know how to do it right – so let's stop all this pretending nonsense.  Okay?"

"About time!"  She grinned.  "Now how did it go last night in the bedroom.  Did she like your toenails or had she seen them before?  What about you being shaved?  C'mon, TELL me!"
Blushing and shy but pleased out of my mind at the same time, I told her of how enthusiastic Joan had been.  Stopped and looked at the table.
"What's the matter?" she asked, then grinned.  "You're not TELLING me something – are you?  Did she spank you by any means?"
She read my gulp correctly, but then proceeded to draw everything out of me – how Joan had caressed me – and where.  What she had called me.  How I'd felt as she'd gradually put me over her knees. How I'd squealed and squalled as she'd spanked my bottom.

"Oh SHEESH!"  Veronica suddenly said.  "I think I forgot to tell you  What did you do with your legs?"
I shrugged.  "I was supposed to DO something?"
"Nuts!" She said getting up.  "Let me go across your knees, huh?"

I could feel myself pale.  "What ARE you doing?  I don't want to . ."
But she had come over to me quickly.  "Stop being such a fuddy-duddy! I can tell that you're not excited!"  She glanced up at me as she laid over my lap. "Think I can't tell when a prick is standing up?  You want to GET spanked – not GIVE it.  But just pretend that you're spanking me, okay?"

"Now just watch what I do with my legs!  Don't forget to squeal!"  With that, she started kicking her legs and making 'oooh'  oooh'   'oooh' noises as if I was hurting her.  Immediately I saw what she was doing – and in a way that she'd never be able to describe to me.
"Thanks Veronica!  I didn't do that – but next time?"
"Oh.  You sexy little devil!" She laughed. "Let's get some work done on you!"

It felt so wrong having her teach me how to behave more like a girl, but she persevered although I could sense that she was getting disturbed.  She showed me how to wax my eyebrows – and my upper lip. I guess I can admit that it was some sign of my feminine tendencies to have so little facial hair but there was a downy growth of a mustache.  I can't say that I enjoyed doing it – it was quite painful, but there was no great damage done that I could see.

I wasn't sure about the eyebrows though.  I couldn't point to anything in particular and I swore blind that it was impossible to say that I'd done such a thing, but the shape of my face seemed to have changed.

She finally spoke up when she was on me to change my way of walking. She had demonstrated how a male walks with his feet making slightly parallel tracks, whereas a woman tend to walk along, placing her feet in an almost straight line.  She was NOT suggesting that I walk in a swishy way, rather modify my gait a little, but I was having a problem.  She finally let out a sigh of impatience.
"Seems to me that your clothes are working against you.  You still have men's stuff on and it probably makes you want to fight walking properly.  If you wore nice clothes – like a dress say – it would probably be a lot easier for you."
"Oh Veronica!  I couldn't do THAT!" I laughed.

She got a serious look on her face. "I could see that it might be difficult for you – but do you honestly think that Joan will never get around to wanting you in a dress – and that you'll do as she wants?"
"Oh no Veronica.  I'm just hoping that she's satisfied with how I look and act long before I get to THAT stage."
She shook her head.  "Well, you may be right.  But you just don't seem to be concentrating!  I mean you've done a LOT more feminine things than just walking.  It's almost like you don't WANT to learn!"
"But don't you see, Veronica?  I mean – everything I've learned until now can be shelved – taken back.  But if I get a girlish walk – and get used to doing it all the time? It may hang around for the rest of my life – and there may come a time when Joan doesn't want me girly any more."
"And you're sure that you will want to go back?"
"Well, I'd look awfully silly walking around like a girl – if she didn't want me that way any more – wouldn't you say?"

She took a hold of one of my forearms.  "Steffi?  Walking like a girl is just ONE thing you should learn.  Your point about it taking hold is valid – but think about it!   It’s only valid if you do it all the time, and, let face it - you need to take actions that will convince Joan that you're TRYING to do as she says – and there's not too many actions of that sort can be done without making you obviously girlish.  I can't think of too many things you can do along those lines. Can't you see that I'm right?"

I was sure there were some flaws in what she was saying, but it was just too confusing.  Reluctantly I nodded.  After that, it just seemed churlish for me to fight back against what she was teaching me.  After all, she and Eileen were just trying to HELP – wasn't that the case?  Imperceptibly, my way of walking changed.

Eileen came home later.  We invited Veronica to stay for dinner but she couldn't, and left. Joan called and said she'd eat out – so Eileen and I had a very simple pasta dinner then, as Joan was late, we both went to bed.

There, I thought a lot about what had been going on.  Felt a curious mixture of shame, embarrassment, and a sexual awakening course through me.  At the same time though, I felt that I had managed to hold on to some self esteem, regardless of my traitorous sexual desires. Patted myself on the back so to speak   But this was to start changing.

The following day was a Monday, my first day back in the office on my new part time basis.  Joan was awake when I left the bed to go downstairs.  Gave me a puzzled look as she took in my new facial configuration, but although she nodded approvingly, I don't think she knew exactly, what I'd had done.  This pleased me, so I hurried downstairs to start breakfast.

It was Joan's first day at her new job as well, and she was somewhat preoccupied as she came downstairs but all in all we had a pleasant breakfast.  She gave me a fond kiss before she left and we both wished each other a pleasant day in our new employments as she left.  I then gave Eileen a hand to tidy up, got myself showered and ready for the day.

It was a little strange to be reminded of the 'proper' way to get in and out of the car, but in many ways it turned out to be a blessing in disguise as it reminded me of what was what. I was soon to be reminded of my new status.
Eileen escorted me into the office, though not for any main reason other to see Helen.  They had become fast friends. I saw that things had changed immediately, but couldn't put my finger on it.  Then I saw Rose's coat and scarf hanging on the hooks provided and realized that she had beat me into getting into the office, something I wasn't used to.  But then I headed to my desk and saw that it had changed.  What was going ON?

I was standing, undecided, for a second, trying to figure out what was happening, when Rose came out of the filing room.  "Good morning Steven!" She said brightly and I replied in kind, surprised by her new confident demeanor. Then she smiled even more brightly. "Or do you prefer to be called Steffi now?  That's SUCH a nice name!"
"Huh?  Wha . . Wha . . What are you talking about?" I stammered.
"Helen was so impressed by your dinner party on Friday night.  She and I had a lovely chat when I got in this morning.  I hope you don't mind – but she and I agreed that I should take over your old desk – it's SO handy for her office.  I put your stuff as neatly as I could on my old desk."  She saw the look on my face.  "That IS alright – is it not?"

Any appearance of subservience she had ever shown me was going fast.  "I guess. .. guess… that it's okay."  I mumbled.
"Wonderful!" she said.  Then she looked at her watch pointedly.  "I understood that your hours are now from 10.00 a.m. to 2.00 p.m with a half hour for lunch?"
"Huh?  Yes.  I guess that's right."  I said shakily. "Why?"
Her mouth took on a prim look and she smiled acidly.  "It's now ten minutes past your starting time.  As you now report to me, I think we should get off on the right foot. I DO expect you to be on time in the morning – and not leave early in the afternoon.  Is THAT understood?"  She had started to crack the whip!

"I guess  . . guess . . so."  I faltered.
She actually PATTED my cheek!  "That's wonderful Steffi!  I can see that we will get along famously!"  She looked at her watch for a moment.  "Getting your stuff arranged in your new desk should only take what – ten minutes?  Let me know when your finished and we can go over your new duties then.  Okay?"
"Yes.  Okay." I said, still confused and astounded by what was going on.  Guess that I paused for a second too long. "Off you go then, dear."  She said kindly then kindly patted my rump!

Eileen and Helen finished their chat just as I finished moving my stuff into my desk.  They both came out of Helen's office.
"Bye then Steffi."  Eileen said.  "I'll pick you up around two o'clock.  See you."  With that, she came forward and gave me a kiss. It wasn't until she finished that I realized I'd given her the kind of air kiss, beloved by women, that Veronica had just taught me just the day before. Saw the glance that shot between Helen and Rose and blushed.

"Good morning Steffi."  Helen said as Eileen and I stopped kissing.  "I think that you, me, and Rose have just enough time to iron out some details.  Why don't you come into my office?"  Her tone was friendly enough, but there was no doubt about it – she was talking to an employee – a junior one at that!  I nodded as Eileen said her cheery goodbye's and I followed Helen and Rose into the office.

"I saw the look on your face as you came in."  Helen said.  "Was my feeling incorrect that you were surprised? Is something wrong?"
"Well?  There seems to have been some changes that I wasn't expecting?" I said.
Helen cocked her head.  "Joan didn't tell you what she and I discussed on Friday night when I was at your place?"
"No.  At least not that I remember." I replied.
"Mmmm."  She said slowly.  "You were probably too busy doing the clean up after dinner.  Probably she forgot.  Well after you left here on Friday, I had a long chat with Rose after Joan left.   Frankly dear?  She knew a great deal more about the business than I expected.  On top of that, she really wanted a full time job – so the whole thing became pretty obvious.   You only want to work part time and she . . ."
"But this part time thing?  It isn't permanent."  I blurted.

"Oh?" Helen looked surprised.  "I didn't get THAT idea from Joan at all. In fact I got the decided idea that she might want you at home permanently in the near future.  Is she wrong?"
"Well?  I think that . ."  I started weakly.
"Steffi?"  Helen interrupted quickly.  "Please let's not get into a bunch of bullshit here.  You going to come here part time or not?"
"Come here."
"That's better.  Now I want . ."
"But what about my companies?  What about the Carmichael company?  What about . ." I started. 

"I thought you understood dear.  They're all Rose's now.  I don't think she'll need any help, but she can always fall back on me." Helen said firmly.
"But I don't understand!  What am I to DO?" I wailed.
"I thought it was perfectly clear!" Helen said, acting as if she were dumbfounded. "You answer the phones, get what file copies we need."
"Bu . . but . . That's Rose's job!"
"Not anymore."  Rose smiled.  "It's your job now!"  Then she turned to Helen. "I don't want to stick my oar in Helen – but maybe I can get this situation cleaned up quickly?"
"Be my guest!"  Helen laughed.

"Al right Steffi.  Let's stop pretending – shall we?" Rose asked firmly.  "I mean – your name change. The hostess gown you wore on Friday.  I mean . ."
"How come you know about that?" I moaned.
"Helen was telling me what a nice time she had on Friday.  How sweet your aunt Eileen is – and the apron you wore.  She even showed me the photos she took on her phone you looked so cute sitting on Jean's knee! And those shots of you and Veronica in your aprons?  Lovely!".
"I .  that is..well.. I don't . ."
"Please don't interrupt me Steffi!"  Her voice crackled with authority.  "I think that what you're doing is very commendable.  Doing the housewife type things for your wife! Even being the hostess for her parties! I can see that you maybe didn't want everyone to know what you were up to, but I want you to know that I'm amazed when a man lets his feminine side come out.  I want to let you know that I intend to help you in every way!"  She smiled at me.  "I'm just dying to know what your apron was made of!  Was it chiffon or tulle or a mixture of.. . ."

"Girls?"  Helen broke in. "I think that Steffi knows his . ." she looked at me.  "Or would you prefer me to use 'she'?"
"I'm a 'he' Helen . ." I started to say.
"I'm sorry Helen – but a thing I wanted to ask before Steffi and I go back to our desks?" Rose Interrupted.
"Yes?" Helen asked.
"Bathrooms!  I know that you haven't been too happy at having me sharing your private bathroom with you.  Are you, Helen?"

"Well?"  Helen expostulated.  "I never complained – and I only have two bathrooms and he uses . . ." her face started to show understanding.
"Yes."  Rose said.  "Doesn't make much sense now – does it.  You can have yours all to yourself Helen – and Steffi and I share the other.  I mean – you're the boss and everything.  And I don't think there's any reason that Steffi and I can't share."
"You share a bathroom with me Rose?" I asked, horrified.
"Not quite.  YOU share MINE!"  Rose answered promptly.  "After all, you have girl impulses – so what better way for you to get over any silly ideas you're having of male status, if you share a ladies restroom, huh?"
"Wonderful idea Rose!  We'll start that immediately!"  Helen laughed.  "Off you go then girls – boys – or whatever!"
I started.  "Helen?  I . ."
"Come ALONG Steffi!"  Rose barked – and I followed her.

I had just sat down at my new desk when Rose drove another nail in my coffin.  "Here!" she smiled, putting a fairly large desk sign on my desk.  "Guess this fits you more than me now."  Then she walked away.  I turned it around. "It was a wooden thing – all carved with different colored flowers on it – and with embossed italic writing that said "Our Gal Friday" on it.  I wanted to throw it away, but knew now that it described my job perfectly, and I was too gutless to do anything about it.

It was too much though when she brought three aprons down to me.  "I don't suppose I'll be needing them any more when you're here.  Just DO try to keep them clean and fresh looking!  You do know how to make coffee don't you?  I'll fill you in on how Helen and I like ours."
"This!" I said, standing up. "Is TOO much!  I'm going to speak to Helen about this!"  With that, I stormed off and entered Helen's private office with a bang, Rose following me.
Helen had been looking at something on her desk, but at the bang, she looked up.  As she saw me, her eyes blazed.  She held up an imperious hand.  "STOP right there Steffi!  Not ONE more step!"

I stopped, suddenly scared.  But I said what I was going to say, even though my voice started to tremble.  "This is TOO much!  Enough!  Losing my job and becoming an office boy – except she calls me Gal Friday!"  I jerked my thumb at Rose.  "Losing my bathroom!  And now – NOW – she wants me to wear aprons!  Make coffee as if I was the office girl like her!  Enough is enough, I say!"

Helen leaned back in her chair, her face somber.  "That's easy then – quit. You can leave right now if things are so intolerable!  I'll pay you to the minute!  Piss off!"
I gulped.  "Well.  Perhaps I was a little hasty Helen?"  I managed a pasty faced grin.  "I just felt there were points that I felt could be talked out.  Before we took any drastic action?"

She leaned forward and put her elbows on the desk.  "Want to talk over your grievances?  That what you feel would clear the air?"
"Exactly!"  I said, feeling a little better.
"Very well then."  She said, then to my surprise picked up the telephone. "Good!" After a second she said. "Didn't expect you to pick up your own phone.  But Steffi is here and wants to talk to you.  I'll put it on speaker phone."  She clicked a button.
Joan's voice echoed.  "Hey!  Tell Steffi I don't have time!"
"Well, he seems to feel that it's urgent. I'll let him tell you.  He's talking about quitting."  "Huh?  What IS this shit?" Joan was saying. "Do you think that I have TIME for this?"  She sounded angry.

I spoke, but could hear a whimper in my voice.  "Joan?  You don't understand!  This is just not FAIR!"
I could practically hear her rein in her temper.  "I'm sorry love."  She said.  "Now tell Joan, all about it.  Clearly, so that I know what's going on.  I think you agree that we should try to keep emotion out of it?"
"Absolutely!" I said in full agreement.
"Fine then.  So what are the problems?  She asked quietly.

"Mmmm"  I was suddenly unsure of what to say but managed to make some indignation.  "They're treating me like a girl!"
"Changed my desk!  I've been given a nameplate thing that says I'm a 'Gal Friday!"
"Is that IT?  That what all this fuss is about?  What can you expect?"
I was starting to get desperate.  "Want me to share a bathroom with Rose!"
I could practically hear her shrug over the phone.  "Well?  You're only there four hours a day.  Part time.  I don't think you can expect them to give you a restroom all to yourself.  Don't you think that's kinda greedy?"
"But I'm a GUY!"
"Would you STOP with this nonsense!"
"They want me to wear an apron!  Serve up their coffee!"
She was impatient now.  "But that's exactly what you do at home!  You have a new job – a lesser one and Helen has given you new responsibilities!  You interrupt ME in a new job with a bunch of trivialities and . ."
"They're not trivial to me!" I interrupted.
"Well?  Last night when I spanked you on your satin pajamas – that was kinda trivial.  Was it not?"
Face burning, I couldn't answer.
"Well?  Keep this up and the spanking you get tonight won't be so trivial!  Now?  If that's all you have to complain about?  Say that you're sorry to Helen – and get back to work.  Let me HEAR it now!"

I swallowed, knowing that things could only get worse.  "Sorry Helen."  I said.
"Louder – and with more feeling!"  Joan commanded.  "A LOT nicer!"
"I'm really terribly sorry Helen!" I said, almost crying.
"Isn't Rose your boss now?" Joan asked.
I looked at Helen. She smiled and nodded.
"Yes." I sighed.
"Tell her how sorry you are too.  Say that you won't be naughty any more!"
My gulp was probably audible but I did what I was told.  Rose smiled her thanks – loving to see me further humiliated.

"Thank you Joan!"  Helen said when I finished. "I don't think that we'll hear any more negative talk from Steffi.  That not right dear?"  She asked me.
"That's right Helen."  I replied meekly.
"Very well Steffi.  Why don't you go back with Rose to . ."  she started.
"May I make a suggestion?"  Joan interrupted.
"Of course!" Helen laughed.  "Your suggestions are always valuable."
"Steffi darling?"  Joan cooed.  "I think you should give a practical demonstration to show how sorry you are."
"A practical demonstration?"
"Yes.  Why don't you ask the ladies if they would like some coffee.  Then get it for them?"

Believe me, I knew what was coming, but played the charade out as if I hadn't a clue.  Managed a weak smile as I asked Helen and Rose if they wanted coffee. Of COURSE they did.  I smiled at them then bolted for the door, hoping to get out of that office before Joan could say anything more.  But Rose thwarted me by stepping in front of me.  "I think you'll need to be shown what to do the first time Steffi.  Why don't we go together."  She said, kindly enough.

"That was very GOOD Steffi!"  Joan crowed. "But don't forget to ask Rose for a nice apron.  Then?  I think you should wear it for the rest of your stay there today.  Get used to wearing it?"

Rose practically simpered as she tied me into one of the frilly, half aprons a few minutes later.  One that she was accustomed to wear regularly.  "Isn't that NICE Steffi?"  She gloated. "Certainly nowhere near as nice as the one you wore last night.  What was that made of again?"
I had to try and make amends.  This female knew all about me now and was perfectly capable of making my life miserable.  "A lot of chiffon, I think."  Then added pleasantly.  "I'm not very good at that stuff."
"Perfectly understandable!" she tittered.  "You had to maintain appearances and MEN don't know those sort of things, do they?"
"Afraid not." I agreed.
"But now you're learning."  She beamed.  "And from what I saw of those photos that Helen had?  You're coming along VERY well – and that apron looks so cute on you – don't you think?"  Then she laughed.  "You blush so sweetly! Remind me of a girl I knew at school!"

And my first day as the Gal Friday passed with me learning how to make the coffee and serve it nicely.  How to wash out the cups then the embarrassment of heading for the restroom – and having Rose join me!  She saw the expression of horror on my face but simply shrugged.  "You'll learn dear.  Girls just abhor going to the bathroom by themselves. You may as well get used to the idea."  At lunch I found that it was now MY job to take the orders and then walk to the nearby deli for sandwiches and soft drinks.

Just before Eileen came to pick me up, I got a fright.  I'd been doing some filing for Rose that involved me going to and fro from my desk to the steel filing cabinets, with a natural need to bend and stretch as I browsed through the various drawers.  At one time I had to look backwards and saw Rose looking in my direction and saw that Rose had a pleased expression on her face.  Couldn't figure out what was making her happy, but ignored it a little.  A little while later I had to look in her direction again.  Once more I saw the delight on her face.  Couldn't help but give her a perplexed look.

She smiled and came to me. "I just HAVE to tell you Steffi!  The way that you're walking, stretching, and bending? So CUTE!  So neat and feminine!  I'd never noticed how you walked before, but it seems to me that you've been taught to move gracefully – and you're a natural!"
With a sinking feeling it dawned on me.  I wasn't trying to walk effeminately!  But the lessons that Eileen and Veronica had been teaching me had stuck only too well!  Later, when I was sure that Rose wasn't watching I tried to revert to a more masculine way of moving.  To my internal horror, I found that I was now having to work at walking in a masculine fashion – Rose had guessed correctly!  Walking effeminately seemed to be my natural way.

Eileen picked me up, but didn't come into the office. As soon as I got into the car, she closed the door for me after nodding approvingly as I got in to the car properly, came round to the driver's side, but looked at me sternly before putting the key in the ignition.  "What have you been DOING?"  I spoke to Joan earlier on, but she wouldn't go into details – but she's pissed off at you, Steffi!  Now what have you been up to?"

I sighed deeply, but ended up telling her the whole story.  She didn't interrupt, just looked at me steadily, then started the car.
"Well? I think that it's come a little quicker than you expected – but I think you better find a way to placate her tonight.  Any ideas?"
"I don't KNOW!"  I said honestly.  "She's told me that anything I do should be permanent.  I thought I'd done enough to placate her – maybe even get a respite from all of this."
"A little blush?  Mascara?"

I looked at her, amazed!  "You GOTTA be kidding Eileen!  Makeup?  Cosmetics?"
"They'd be hard to see – if you did them a little bit."  She shrugged.  "Up to you, I guess.  Maybe it will all be water over the dam by the time she gets home.  But it's up to you.  Your call."
"Do you think she'll be mad?" I ventured.
"Told you. She was pissed off earlier on.  But I wouldn't bet on how she'll feel by the time she gets home.  I'd suggest a nice dinner – made by your own sweet hands! That would be a big help!"
"You think that will work?"
"Your call sweetie!"  She grinned.  "Should be interesting!"

I made a definite point of swishing towards Joan when she got home that night.  Made sure that my apron was spotless and well ironed.  Offered up my cheek after I hurried towards her.  "Tired hon?"  I asked sweetly.  "How was your first day?"
"Certainly wasn't helped by YOU – and your bullshit!" She gritted as she put down a load of parcels and shopping bags.
I blinked as well as I could.  "Honestly Joan?  I'm sorry I was naughty.  Forgot for a while who I was."   Smiled apologetically.

"You made that obvious." She said coldly.  "Did you shower today?"

The question shook me.  "Of course Joan.  I showered before I went to work."
"Okay.  Go and run a nice deep bath.  Lots of perfumed bubble bath in it."
"Tired dear?  Can I take your parcels upstairs for you?"
"Just go and run the bath, would you?"

Her tone brooked no reply, so I was glad to get away from her ominous presence so hurried upstairs and started running a nice deep bath.  Put in lots of bath oils and scented bubble bath granules.  Soon the bathroom was filling with steamy, perfumed air.  Joan appeared in the doorway when the bath was about half full.
"Just the way you like it darling!"  I enthused.
"Good.  Strip off and get in it." She said coldly.

I blinked, but she continued.  "You heard me.  Now I'm not in the mood for ANY arguments or macho nonsense, so just go along with me – please?"

She stood, leaning against her bathroom sink as I undressed.  To my shame, I had an erection and as anyone knows, when you're stripping down to the nude, it's impossible to hide a hardon – even though you're not physically well endowed the way I am.  Joan couldn't avoid seeing it.
"You know?  I'd always heard that a man with a small dick was suspect, but I never paid any mind to it.  Now I see that in your case anyway, it's probably true."
"Aw Joan!" I remonstrated weakly.  "I'm not really feminine."
"Could've fooled me!" she replied tartly.  "Weep when a woman gives you a few punches.  Do as she tells you.  Wear frilly aprons as you do the housework . ."

"But I'm only doing all that to please YOU Joan!  I was hoping . ."
"You're not pleasing me worth a shit!"  She advanced toward me and I backed off a little. She grinned wolfishly.  "I TOLD you that I wanted you all sweet and docile – womanish like – and I thought you agreed!"
"I did Joan!  I did!"

She thought for a second.  "I must say.  You seemed like you were really trying.  Kinda slow – but I liked what you were doing.  Getting all sweet and loving."
I smiled. "See?  I was. . ."
"Today?  Your true colors showed! Getting all macho and telling my friend Helen off!  Who do you think you are?  Get in the bath!"

The water was warm, but I wanted to hide my erection as quickly as possible. Slid into the perfumed water and under the scented bubbles.
"Like that, huh?"  She cooed.  "Smell nice enough for you?"
"It’s nice Joan."  I admitted in a very small voice as I laid back. "But like I said before? It was just more than I could handle. I forgot . ."
"You won't forget any more – will you?" She interrupted.
"Oh no Joan!" I said, relieved at her softening.
"Bet your ass you won't!" she laughed.  Then she added.  "You just lay there and soak for a while – Stephanie.  I'll let you know when I want you.  Just enjoy.  Girls always enjoy a hot bath!"

Of course I noted her use of the new name Stephanie – but does anyone blame me for not arguing with her at this stage?  It must have been about twenty minutes later that she came into the bathroom, with a large fluffy towel.  Dry yourself nicely Stephanie – and I think that powder that I left on the sink should smell lovely on you. Use it liberally, okay?"

I don't know why I was so stupid. Knew that Joan had proved to both of us that she had power over me.  But?  I thought she was finished. Had the first rumblings of truth in my tummy when I stepped into the bedroom.  She was standing by the bed – and two sets of lingerie – full sets – were laid out on the bed, lying side by side.  Bra, panties, garter belt, full slip and stockings.  Pretty sets.  One in a luscious pink, the other in a light blue – stockings, which were a sort of natural shade, were excluded of course.

"Aren't these lovely Stephanie?  I can't make up my mind which color would look nicest on you.  Which color do you want?"

The end