Sunday, November 27, 2011

My Serial - and a new bit from Rosie


Part 3
For sure though, Chris was now the dominant force in our marriage.  She didn't beat me up, or anything like that – well she did spank me once, but it was more foreplay than anything else.  I found it strangely exciting if the truth be known.  It just seemed that, one night, I realized that I was now deferring to her opinion in most things – and that she expected me to be subservient to her!  I also noticed that she became very considerate of me, opening doors for me, ordering for me in restaurants - as well as paying the bill.  Looking back, I see that, as she became more and more self-confident, I became more and more submissive.

One night at home though, she seemed strangely nervous.  "You know, dear .. You've been doing very well in the cooking, and looking after the house - maybe I've boasted a little too much ...?   But I may have got myself into a corner and now I've something to ask?"
I couldn't help but blush with pleasure at the compliments  "Who have you been boasting to?"  I asked shyly.
She sighed.  "I'm afraid.. Mrs.. Morgan, and Marjory Thorn"

I was really complimented.  "Mrs.. Morgan? .. The new owner?"
She nodded, ruefully - then took a deep breath   "I've invited them to dinner on Friday evening.  Please say you don't mind?"
"Oh.  My goodness!"  I said, my heart fluttering  "What do you want me to make  .. what? .. that's not very much time .. Oh dear!"
She laughed sympathetically.  "Don't get all flustered and dithery dear.  It's not really that big a deal, and you've got three days to prepare.  I would have given you more time, but somehow I got inveigled into it.  I was going to take them out to a nice dinner, but Mrs. Morgan insisted."
"Maybe not a big deal for you"  I retorted  "But what would they think if..."
She interrupted "That's the important thing I'm afraid .. What they will think."
"I don't understand"  I said.
"Well... It's very difficult to explain and, to be quite honest, I'd rather not even try .. but would you have a major problem with wearing a nice apron in front of them?  I know you have nice ones – but I'd like you to wear an especially nice one. I need to show you off!" she said winningly.
I gulped.  "Doesn't exactly give me a warm fuzzy feeling, but I've been wearing one so long now .. well, I guess I could."
She smiled   "Wow!  That's great!"  She stood up suddenly  "I already bought one specially for the occasion.  Let me go get it and you can try it on."

I started to get a feeling of dread.  The feeling wasn't helped when she returned, holding out a full skirted, white apron, with full straps -  frilled along the edges of course, and wide, frilled ties to match.  She held it out to me.  "Isn't this lovely?  Why don't you try it on?  See how it looks on.  Bet that it makes you look pretty!"

 I backed off a step. "Oh Chris! That's really kinda effeminate, don't you think?"
She grimaced "Well, maybe .. But honest, I've got a reason. I will explain.  Honest.  Please try it on?  Please?"
And I stepped into it.  She fastened the skirt at the back with some kind of hooks and eyes, then tied the shoulder straps and the side ribbons behind me, into a full bow. 
"But it's like a dress!"  I complained.  "The skirt's so long that you can barely tell if I'm wearing pants."
"You look just fine."  She said,  "But let's try this as well."

She reached into one of the apron pockets, and pulled out something, lacy and white.  Before I could even come close to stopping her, she had put it on my head, and seemed to be tying a ribbon or something.  I started to
jerk away.
"Be still!  Would you!  I'll just be a minute"  she said impatiently  "I want you to look nice!  Don't you want that too?".
I couldn't see what she was doing, but knew it was some kind of cap.  I sighed but stood nice and docile and let her finish.
She finished tying whatever it was, then I felt her pull some of my hair out from under the cap, onto my brow.  She positioned it lightly with her fingers, then stepped back, her face flushed and a kind of excitement glinting in her eyes. 
"Told you!"  She said huskily.  "You look just  fine!"

When she stepped back, I could see my reflection in the mirror – dressed in a maid's apron and matching lace cap.  Some tendrils of hair had been pulled down and had been arranged, quite prettily, on my forehead.
"See!  Don't tell me you don't look nice"  she dared me to disagree -   "and that was with very little time to do anything to you.  By the time Friday rolls around, you'll feel much more comfortable in it.  I'll help make
your hair a little nicer - and you know you'll feel better when you look better.  You won't have any trouble at all!"
"But if I'm going to be cooking in it, it'll just get all dirty"  I said, still hoping against hope to convince her.
"Oh!  I don't expect you to cook in it"  she replied airily  "I thought you could have the dinner pretty well ready before they came.  You can use one of your other aprons for the dirty work."

"But then .. What would I use it for, then?" I thought it was a sensible question, but found myself getting very nervous as her expression grew impatient.
"Why, for taking their coats and bags as they came in, serving up drinks, and the meal, and then cleaning up.  Once you've finished all that, you can take it off if you want - and I wouldn't care if it's dirty by then.  They're not gonna see it by that time, and - it's washable, right?"
"I'm not going to spend much time with the Marjory  .. I mean .. Miss Thorn, or Mrs. Morgan then, am I?"  I felt I should complain though I felt quite comfortable with the idea.
She got the uncomfortable look back on her face.  "That's true .. Yes, I'd say that's very true.  In fact, to be quite honest, this dinner is more of an upper management meeting than anything else, so...  I wasn't intending to have you.. eh .. interact with the guests much at all"

It finally hit me. "But you want me to.."  I started,  when what she was really saying dawned on me. "You just want me to be a maid!"  I gasped.
She looked me straight in the eyes, then shrugged.  "That's right"  she sighed, then said quietly. "It may sound cruel, but I couldn't say it better myself. That's exactly what I want you to be.  No sense in fooling around, is there? "
I felt the flush rising up my neck, and suffusing my face.  "But I'm your husband, Chris!"
"..And that's why!"  She said, excited.  "That's exactly why!  Don't ask me how I know, but I know for sure!   Mrs. Morgan believes that her executives should have a.. a .. charisma a natural tendency to boss their spouses, that carries over, even into their homes.  She doesn't really like men at all.  If she sees that I.. we. .you..."
"Do as I'm told?"  I asked bitterly.
"That's it!  If she sees that I .. control.. you.  Then she knows that I have what it takes to be one of her top managers."
She paused, and took a deep breath.  "Alex.  This can help us.  If you were one of these big, macho, guys?   Well, we wouldn't be here in the first place.  But you're not!  You're nice, and soft, and sweet.  I love you!  You've never been all hung up with what 'guys' do, or what they don't.  They've been treating you more and more like a girl at work, and you don't complain - Please!  Please! Do this for me.  For us!"  She came forward and gently took a hold of my apron bib and pulled me in.

"You have been treating me as if I were a girl as well!" I said sulkily.
She smiled genuinely,  "Yes I do, don't I?  Can you blame me?"

At that point shedidn't wait for my answer, just  pulled me forward, and kissed me.  As usual, I felt myself weaken. I did continue to argue, with less and less conviction, but she was stroking my apron now, the confidence growing in her eyes.  Finally  I spoke weakly.
"'s only for a couple of hours.."  I conceded.
"Right!"  She said, grinning now, sensing my surrender  "Just a little while.  Hardly any time at all."
"..And no other surprises!"  I pretended to growl but knew I was just kidding.
"Well... just a little thing"  she purred, stroking my thigh under the skirt of the apron.
"Oh, please Chris"  I complained weakly, as she drew me in for another kiss.  This lasted for quite a while.  Then she  pulled on my ears until my lips were off her mouth, and giggled softly. 
"Mmm.. You wouldn't mind ..ahem.. dropping a little curtsey now and then?"

Her hand had found my erection, and she was starting to lift the skirt of the apron to get to me, pushing me down onto the couch at the same time.  "It would look so cute!"

""  I pleaded, incoherently, as my pants were being unzipped.  "Please don't ask.. Please, no curtseying, eh?  Please?  I know now that you want me to look like a maid.  But curtseying?"
"But what would Mrs.. Morgan think if I had a maid that didn't  curtsey when she was spoken too?"  She cooed, having worked my pants and underpants down, "and didn't you just agree to be the maid for the night?.  Eh?  Now you don't want to be breaking your promises, do you?  Get Chris mad enough to spank you as if she was Marjory? Hurt your soft little bottom?""

The skirt of my apron was up over my head, my pants were down, and she was now straddling me, riding up and down on my erection.  Sometime during the next five minutes or so, I agreed that curtseying wouldn't be so difficult.
"Promise now?" she coaxed.
"Nice, deep curtseys!  Like a proper maid?"
"Is that what you want me to do?"
"Yes.  And you'll be SO good!  Won't you?"

Lying in her arms after the sex, I found myself also sleepily agreeing that it wouldn't look too good if I forgot to curtsey at any time - and yes, it might be appropriate for me to start practicing right away - only at home of course - but curtseying when she spoke to me, and addressing her as "Miss".   (She laughed happily as she suggested this.  "I might just keep you doing it – it sounds so nice to me!" she cackled.)

I've said that the change had been slow and gradual.  It HAD been, but at this point in time, it started to accelerate.  The following night, she taught me to curtsey.  Though the apron I wore wasn't the new one of the night before, it was a new and more effeminate version of my earlier ones.
"I want you in a fuller apron"  she explained  "Pretty ones. Your other ones are too masculine and too tight to the body to let me see if you're curtseying properly.  Now, let's get started..."

And I learned how and when, to drop deep curtseys, and when to do a simple 'bob'.  How to smile (nicely), but keep my eyes downcast and, at all times to respond with  'Yes  maam'  or 'Yes miss'.  She was really surprised at how quickly I learned but was also adamant that I learn to 'flounce' my apron at all times as I walked  - "Just a little, but honestly, it looks so nice!  I mean I'm only kidding when I say I want you to act like maid – you ARE my husband after all – but a little flounce never hurt anyone, did it?  And like I thought?  You look so cute"

I haven't mentioned it, but she'd started criticizing my haircuts some months earlier on.  She had an ex-worker of hers, Flora, come around once a month to do her hair, and had finally coerced me into trying her as well.  Flora was a skilled hairdresser, there was no question about that, but at Chris's requests, my hair had gradually been let grow longer and longer, which made my hair more and more difficult to fix in any semblance of a masculine style.  I can't say it was a woman's style, but the additional length was forcing my hair to fall down the sides of my face in what was definitely a 'softer' look. Some of the girls in the carpool had actually asked me who my hairdresser was.

On the Thursday night before the dinner party, Chris had Flora come to work on both of us.  As Chris's generally took longer, and I had some work I wanted done, it was agreed that I'd go first.
"Getting a little long, Flora"  I said, settling into the chair, as she buttoned the cape around me.  "Cut it back some, would you?"
Chris overheard this, and walked over to the chair.  She gently pulled some of my hair out to its full length.
"That's so silly Alexis!"  She said  "You've got nice hair.  I don't think it's long enough yet.  Another couple of inches and it'll look really pretty!"
"You're getting your genders mixed up Chris!" Burning a little from the 'Alexis' she'd used in front of Flora. "I don't think you meant 'pretty'"

Flora spoke  "Well Chris, I can see what he's getting at.  It's getting kinda hard to control at this length.  With a girl, right now, I'd suggest a light wave and set, but" She laughed.  " You DID say pretty you know!"
"What's wrong with the word pretty, then?"  Chris asked, getting aggravated a little.
"I'd have to put rollers in if you want it to be nice."  Flora said, confused, but I could see her reflection in the mirror, and she was starting to grin.
"That's what I want!" Chris said firmly. "And while you're at it?  Why don't you give him a shampoo? - And could you brighten up his hair a shade or two while you're at it?  Then you can set it.  I want it to look nice!"  Chris said, in an no-nonsense tone and staring at me, as if waiting for me to argue..

When I stayed silent, Flora just hummed to herself as she set about doing my hair.  Later, my hair up in rollers, and tied with a blue chiffon scarf, Flora showed me how to take the rollers from Chris's hair, and brush it out.
"Yours needs a bit more firming up."  She said, "So sleep with the rollers in.  Don't brush it out until just before you go to work, but do it the way I'm showing you just now.  I think it'll turn out nice."  Then she added with a grin   "Pretty too!"

The next morning, I was crying in front of the mirror.  Chris heard me, and got up from bed.  "What's the matter dear?  Don't tell me Flora made a mess of your hair?"
"I look just like a girl!"  I sobbed  "Look!"
She hunkered down beside where I sat at the dressing table, and put her arm around my shoulders.  She smiled.
"Well.  It's not.. exactly.. masculine.. But you heard me ask Flora last night – and you didn't complain.  So what's this all now?"  She tried not to, but giggled a little.  "Must admit that it is a little unusual on you – but it really is nice.  A little time and you'll get used to it.  Just wait and see!"
I twirled one of the blonde curls that came over my ears, but couldn't help tearfully laughing at what she'd said and the way she'd said it..  "You got that right, sister!"  And managed a little giggle of my own.

She laughed with me.  "C'mon dear.  That's better.  Dry your eyes now, and get ready for work.  Make sure you wear a cap in the shower."
"I'm not going to work like this!"  I said firmly.
"Oh, come on now"  she moaned.  "I'm not going to fight with you at this time in the morning..."
"I'm not going!"  I repeated.  "If I have to?  I'm going to wash this out.."
"Oh NO you're not!" she said. "I think I've put up with enough nonsense from you!"

And I put up my very last battle with Chris. It actually got physical to the point that we struggled against each other.  The ending came about quickly.  I looked in her eyes and saw the amused confidence there  and, at the same time, could see my soft white arms as I struggled against her.  Finally I realized the futility of what I was doing.  "Can we talk, Chris?" I asked.
"Maybe!  After I spank you!"  She was laughing now at the ease with which she was putting me over her knee.
"Now admit this sweetie!" she grinned as she positioned me on her lap.
"That you're being spanked for being naughty – and . "  Here she snorted.  "That it's good for you!"

And over her knees while being spanked, I admitted through my tears that I had been naughty - a naughty 'girl' I had to add and thoroughly deserved to be spanked.

Okay. I didn't win - but I didn't lose altogether. I didn't have to go to work that day, but I had to keep my hair in the way that Chris wanted until Sunday night at least.  I called Annie and told her I wouldn't make it in that day, and asked her to tell my boss and my group for me.  I think that both Chris and I were now well aware that I was the weaker of us two. She made quite a point of kissing me goodbye that morning – making sure that I took the female role.  After she'd spanked me it became even more obvious.

End of part 3

And here's Rosie's 'Bit'.  Aren't these GREAT?


Time passed quickly as I dusted the house. Matter of fact, I had just finished and decided to pick up the magazines my wife left lying all over the living room floor. As I bent down to the floor, I suddenly felt a hand grope my ass under my skirt. Terrified, I shrieked and turned around. There she was, grinning like a cat who ate the canary.
“Sorry honey, didn’t mean to startle you,” my wife said.
“Well you did. I didn’t hear you come in,” I replied.
And I could tell why – she had taken her shoes off. Still, even in my three and a half inch heels I fell an inch or two short of her barefoot height.
“Been good?” she asked me, wrapping her arms about my waist.
“Of course I have,” I replied.
I squealed again, this time with delightful surprise when she picked me up in her arms and carried me to the bedroom.
“Since you’ve been such a good boy the last few weeks, I thought we’d do something special today,” she softly whispered in my ear.
“Really? What?” I breathed, still clinging to her, even after she had put me down on the bed.
“The thing I do to you? I thought maybe I’d let you do it to me,” she said, blushing.
“You sure?” I asked her, my mind racing with excitement.
“Mm-hmm. Just let me, you know – “she stopped talking and dropped her cream colored pants. Stepped out of them and went to the bathroom. She returned in a couple of minutes, surprisingly still with her panties and stockings on.
“So, where do you want me?” she asked.
I had to laugh at this. My strong willed, forceful wife, who single handedly got me into skirts, suddenly so scared and helpless and vulnerable.
“Come here, honey,” I said, stretching my arm out to her, “lie down next to me.”
I watched as she timidly climbed to bed beside me. I kissed her, then rolled her over her side and snuggled into her back. She let out a soft gasp and stiffened.
“Relax, honey,” I breathed in her ear and started rubbing her tummy through her blouse. When I felt she had calmed down a bit, I reached under the silky garment and caressed her breast. Slowly, I slid my hand down again, over her belly this time, right into her panties. She was already excited and I didn’t need to spend too much time down there.
“Let’s get these off,” I said and she lifted her hips to help me pull down her panties.
“Aren’t you going to get undressed too?” she asked.
“Shh, honey, relax,” I said again and played with her moistness some more. After a while, I started sliding down her back, hiking up my skirt as I did so. When my groin was finally level with hers, I pulled my own panties down as well. I felt her stiffen again as my erection touched her buttocks. Slowly, I probed her ass with my finger, made sure that she had lubricated her well enough. I arched my hips backwards a little then began moving back forward, slowly entering her.
She sighed in pain, but I was too excited to whisper soothing words to her. Instead, I moaned with lust as she tightly clasped my shaft. In a while the tension eased up and the pain in her cries was replaced by pleasure. I was steadily thrusting in and out, with my hands running between her breast and her crotch. When I felt I wouldn’t be able to last much longer, I pressed my cheek to her back and thrust myself in her as far as I could. With her soft buttocks against my groin, she shrieked as I filled her with wave after wave of hot semen. I rested for a few moments before I pulled out of her, then rolled over on my back, delightfully exhausted.

“How did you like it?” I asked her after she had come back from the bathroom.
“It hurt at first, I can’t deny it,” she said, “and I wondered why in the world did you let me do this to you night after night. But after a while, I found out why.”
Now it was my turn to blush. I got out of bed, rearranged my skirt and tucked my blouse back in to cover my embarrassment.
“Hey,” she gripped my arm as I headed for the door, “where do you thing you’re going?”
“I was just – “ I began, wiggling joyfully as her other hand found its way under my skirt.
“We’re not done here,” she said and let me go. Then she handed me her dildo.
“Strap this on me, will you?” she said, “But first, freshen your make up. And maybe use that pink lipstick instead.”

A note - and a "What if"

Today?  I checked and find that this blog has had 99,981 views - so I guess that we'll cross the 100,000 mark today.  Thanks to all you readers. It's been just less than a year now since I opened up, so feel comforted and realise that I'm not alone in having daft fantasies.

I'll admit that I didn't get the responses I wanted (Like - Tammie, Bethany, and   Monica?  Where ARE you?) but I'm still impressed by the readership.  Again Thanks.

But I thought up another "What if" for you today.

You're about 13 or 14.  Live with your step mother and step sister.  Both your parents are dead. Your step sister is almost the same age as you - and the same size.  Has started 'borrowing' your jeans and sweat shirts.  You have started feeling a little scared of her as she's a lot more athletic - but one day you feel it safe to tell her to stop borrowing your clothes because the step mother is there.

You're step sister pretends to be all offended and wants to fight you.  You'd hoped that the mother would stop any nonsense, but she just looks on at developments with a smile.  Your step sister ends up putting you over her knees and spanking you until you cry. 

Both women tease you now - and you are made to agree that your sister can borrow any of your clothes any time - and return them any time.  If you run short?  Maybe you can borrow her clothes?

Both women then suggest that you might learn to be a man if you do the womanly chores - make you mad because you're being treated as a sissy and make you learn to fight.  Laundry, Iron , make beds, - that sort of thing.  You are forced to agree with this before you are allowed off your sisters knees.

What do you think will happen? (Especially if your sister brings her girl friends over to visit?)

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Couple of things - including another of Rosie's 'Bits'..

1.  You'll notice that I deleted the contact for - I closed it on Thursday.  Replaced the link with one that goes directly to my library.  It's up on the L.H. side of this page.

2. On that subject - there's a new book in there with three novelettes - called "Dominating Aunts".  The stories are:  Aunt Rose's Place:  Aunt Morag and her Daughters:  Fanny. The cost is $3.99 - and the discount is 20% - if you use the code CR59P

3.That bit of Rosies seemed to go over very well - it follows this.  But in case you haven't noticed?  Part 2 of my serial was posted earlier today.


I glanced at the clock, but it really wasn’t any use. My wife could come home any time, so it made perfect sense to be ready. I never could be sure what mood she’d be in after a case like that one. I took a quick look at me in the mirror and thought about whether I should change. Though truthfully, what I was wearing made more importance to me than to her. As long as I didn’t stray from the general borders of her taste and kept my appearance at least presentable if not immaculate, it was okay with her. The long tight skirt seemed quite suitable for that situation and she had always liked the yellow silk blouse I was wearing.
She was very kind and loving when we married and continued to be so right until she got hired by a big law firm. Almost from day one she started being aggressive and abusive. Beside letting out her rage on me, it seemed that she was competing in just about every field. I think that more than half of our fights were about proving that she was physically stronger than me. Once I accepted that and took on my role as the housewife, she became less violent. She still did thrash me once in a while, to let out some of her aggression.
I froze when I heard our front door open.
“Hi, honey,” I said and scurried to her on my high heels, taking her briefcase, “How did it go?”
“Quite alright,” she said, “Want to come to the bedroom?”
“Sure,” I replied.
“We settled out of court,” she started explaining as we walked, “They chickened out and gave us five million.”
“Five million? But that’s great!” I said.
“It’s not bad, considering we probably wouldn’t get much more in trial,” she replied.
We reached the bedroom. She walked in, took off her jacket, threw it on the bed then sat on the bed herself and smoothed her skirt down her thighs.
“So what’s the problem?” I asked as I placed myself across her knees.
“The problem is that I wanted to go to court!” she answered and slapped my skirted ass.
“I wanted a trial! I was all set up to go to court and sue their asses out of everything they had!” she yelled as she kept spanking me.
I was waving my arms, kicking my legs and squealing, more and more sincerely.
“But no, their lawyers had to chicken out just at the last moment! And Frank Spencer, he’s the biggest chicken shit of all. Practically ate out of their hands when he heard we wouldn’t be going to court. God, why are all the men I have to work with such sissies?”
I began to cry. She stopped yelling but kept spanking me for a while. Eventually, she tired out and stopped. I wept on her knees for a minute or so, then wiped my tears and got up.
“You alright?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said. I was sporting a rock hard erection that formed a distinctive bulge in my skirt. I sat next to her, kissed her cheek and caressed her breast.
“Not now, honey, I’m dead tired,” she said as she pushed my hand away, “Run me a bath, will you?”
“Sure,” I said then asked her, “Mind if I change?”
“Of course not,” she said, brushing my cheek.
As the bathtub was filling with hot water, I stripped my clothes to investigate the damage done to my backside. It was a red and felt sore but considering past experiences, I got out easy. It seemed that the ruffled panties under the tight slip did their job. Rubbing my butt with the cooling cream, I wondered for how long would she be falling for the ‘my skirt is too tight to hike up’ trick. Well, I shrugged, can’t risk having her slap my bare butt, I’ll just have to think of something else. I always do

Serial - Part 2.

hnlotz? If you're reading this? Read the poost I made earlier for you today! PLEASE?

But here's the serial.  BTW?  This was one of the very first long stories I ever wrote.


Part 2

For the first time and a little bit of a shock, I was aware of the physical strength my wife had. "I did my best"  I complained.  "I'm not a cook, you know."
"Well, isn't it time you learned?'  She said coldly.  "I don't see me coming home every night, and looking at this kind of excuse for a bloody meal."  She paused for a second, then continued.   "I think I'll have a chat with Edna Mason. She supposedly knows a lot about home economics.  Maybe she can train you.  But in the mean time?  I think you can go and make me a drink.  I think there's some munchies I can take to ease the hunger pangs.  In the meantime you use what's available to fix that meal up.  You don't have time to re-do it.  But fix it UP!"

"Oh Chris!"  I complained.  "This is getting to be too much. I've had a terrible day! I thought we were going to talk?"
She looked at me, and a little tenderness showed.  "Alex.  For years you've been coasting.  How you got your job, I don't know.  But get real! You're out in the cold.  Marjory has made you and I an offer we can't refuse. I will NOT talk about it – and neither will you!  Look at it this way.  If we leave, you don't have a job - and not much chance of getting one around here.  I can, maybe, get a job.  But you know, and I know, that any company hiring me is going to look at what I've made until now.  They are not going to look at what Marjory has just offered me.  They'll simply look at our history – and I don't think she'll try and hide the fact that she's just demoted you if they call her for a recommendation."
"She's a real bitch, that one!" I said venomously.
"You can stop that right now!" she said firmly. "You have pissed her off for a long time.  Now she's simply getting some of her own back.  I'd suggest you start looking for ways to get on her good side!  I find her very business oriented and smart.  Time that you started looking up to people like her!"
I looked at her in some shock. She was actually lecturing me!

But she ignored my expression and continued.  "There's no way we can keep this standard of living up unless we accept what she's offering.  We have to take her offer right now.  Maybe, six months or so, we'll be out of this hole.  But right now, we've no choice."  She gave me another look. "You made this bed dear.  Time you learned to lie in it."

She was saying what I was beginning to think, but the knowledge that Marjory was probably going to degrade me in any way possible, was haunting me.  I also had more than just a  feeling that even Chris was looking at me differently - especially with regard to the cooking.  I was only partially correct, as I found out quickly. She had other things in mind for me as well.

"So what's this about Edna Mason?"  I asked after I'd used the microwave oven and stove top to make the meal more palatable and we sat having coffee. "You expecting me to cook on a regular basis?"
"Damn right!"  Chris said.  "And not just cook.  You'll be home before me.  You're gonna be earning less money than me.  You think I'm coming home and cooking your dinner?  Think I'm gonna be cleaning house?  Think I'm doing the laundry and ironing?  If you're thinking along these lines, you've got another think coming!  As I said, I'll talk to Edna.  I'm thinking of asking her if she could be here tomorrow night - give you some idea of what has to be done in a kitchen."  She was glaring at me again as she listed her grievances on her fingers.  "Now, if you've any arguments with what I'm saying, you'd better speak up,  because I've had just about all the shit I'm gonna put up with from you!"
"I don't know if it's true?  But I heard pretty solid word that Marjory threatened to spank you? Put you over her knees and pull your pants down? Paddle your ass?"
"She didn't say anything about pulling my pants down!" I mumbled.
She sniggered.  "So most of it is true? my god, what sort of pantywaist do I have for a husband?  Want to go and tidy up – or should we find out if you're some kind of sissy or not, huh?"

Okay, she was being womanly in a hysterical way but being somewhat cowed by this new dominant nature of her personality, I put up absolutely no fight at all.  Meekly, I simply nodded my acquiescence and finished the meal as well as I could, then the dishes and tidied up as she watched television.  That night in bed, we made love for some reason very successfully.  A major difference though was that Chris was a lot more aggressive than she normally was.  I actually had to fight her for the 'top' position. I won – as was natural, but I could sense that I was now locked in some kind of struggle with Chris as to who was top dog in the house.  But I felt weaker – less confident, somehow.

The following morning, Chris made sure I was up in plenty of time to make breakfast.  Now she was coy and humorously bossy, once again rubbing in what her new position was. "Be ready for Annie now!" she warned me with a smile.  "She's your new boss, so make sure you stay on her good side!"  Annie picked me up on time.  Again, the way it worked out, I was between the two girls in the back seat, and felt myself being drawn into their conversation.  Agnes actually told me of a crocheting circle that had recently been formed by 'her, and some other girls' - and said that, if I was interested, they'd be glad to let me join.  I was amused, but inwardly flattered by the invitation.  Politely, I turned her down. She shrugged indifferently.  "You can always change your mind later.  It'll give you a good chance to get to know some of the other girls who'll be working with you."

After clocking in, Annie informed me that Marjory had suggested an assignment for me – with which Annie heartily approved.   First thing, I was to report to Cynthia in filing.  When I reported there, it was to find that one of Cynthia's girls had called in sick the day before, and probably wouldn't be in for a week.  I was to be used as the stop-gap.  It didn't make matters any better when I discovered that Agnes, my car-pooling compatriot would be my co-worker and trainer for the first day. To make matters worse, she was quite excited, explaining that she really wanted supervisory experience and had never had it before.
"You should be able to handle the job"  Cynthia told me crisply in front of my new, temporary supervisor.    "But, if you have any problems, ask Agnes.  If she can't help you .. You'd better come and see me." 

Agnes looked SO proud as she heard this.  She said something in an important tone – as if I needed to understand something. "But he still has to report to you when you want him.  Right Cynthia?"
"Of course!" Cynthia snorted.  "What else?"

So much for any status I'd had in the car pool.  I was now being talked to as if I was some sort of helpless incompetent.  On top of that, Agnes was now my 'trainer' - a fact that wasn't lost on her and, in terms of reporting level, I was now even lower than her as I obviously wasn't even reporting to Cynthia directly but would go through her only when necessary.

Some more humiliation came my way.  Not even an hour later, about nine o'clock, Cynthia called me over after getting Agnes's permission to use me.  "Annie just called.  Wants you to go and see her.  She also needs to brew some coffee and is short, so would you take this  with you?  You'd better run along.  I think she needs you. Just don't be dawdling in the rest room or anything like that.   Thanks."

And, bag of coffee in hand, blushing at being talked to in that manner.  I obediently hurried to Annie's office and handed it to her.
"Thanks Alex"  she said with a big smile.  I'm really running late this morning.  Can you give me a hand?  I cleared it with Cynthia, so you won't get into any trouble."
"Sure"  I said.  "What d'you need?"
"Well.  Marjory's having her copywriters meeting in about ten minutes. Some of the attendees are already there, but more should be coming in the next few minutes.  See that tray of Danish and cookies there?  If you'd take it into the conference room, and set it on the side table?  Then, if you look in that file cabinet there, you'll see sets of dishes.  Take out - let's see, twelve should be enough - cups and saucers and teaspoons. Not the plastic ones - the silverware, and bring them over here.  Give them a dust with a paper towel while you get back here.  Yeah, then fill the little creamer with milk from the fridge.  Make sure the sugar jar is filled, and take them into the conference room as well - oh, and of course, take a bunch of napkins in as well.  When you're finished that, ask the ladies whether they want tea or coffee - make sure you ask everybody now.  I'd suggest that you might want to make a list.   I'll get the coffee on, and get the water boiling for the tea."

I looked at her in total astonishment. "You want me to take orders for coffee?"
She stared at me, puzzled at first but her eyes growing cold.  "That's the general idea, yes.  Do you have a problem with giving me a helping hand?  Is what I'm asking beneath your station?"
"No"  I said lamely.  "It's just.."
"Look!"  She said impatiently.  This is the first time that Marjory's ever given me an assistant.  If I have to go to her because you won't do as I ask - when I ask - you'll end up doing it anyway, and I'll look bad.  I don't want that to happen, and believe me, you don't either.  You're either MY assistant or your not. You may be working for Cynthia right now, but that's only temporary.  You going to do what I tell you, or not?"

She was obviously determined that I was to be some sort of serving wench.  I thought of the repercussions that would follow if I made a fuss - and the conversation I'd had with Chris the night before.  It just didn't seem worth it,  so I gritted my teeth and started to follow her instructions.  As I busied myself putting the tray together, I noticed that the conference room was gradually filling up. Hurriedly I moved everything into the room.  Horror!  Chris was there!  A witness to my shame!  I was nothing more than a servant! A menial!

She was part of a small group chatting and laughing with Marjory.  As I put the stuff on the table, Marjory caught my eye, and imperiously beckoned me over to her by crooking her forefinger.  When I got to her side, she surprised me by putting her arm around me, and pulling me towards her.
"Listen up, ladies"  she said, over-riding the other conversations that were going on and getting immediate quiet.  "I've got an announcement.  Maybe I'll write a memo to confirm it, maybe not.  Anyway, Alex here has been re-assigned as my personal assistant, reporting to Annie and effective immediately.  Mary Sloan will be taking over his old spot.  Any questions?"

An old enemy of mine, Elaine Williams, spoke up. "But I thought Annie was your assistant"
"She still is.  But she's my senior assistant now.  He'll report to her."  Marjory replied.  "And though his immediate duties will be giving her a hand when she needs him, I've got something else in mind for later on."  A satisfied expression appeared on her face.   "Remember when we used to get so mad at his administrative ideas?  Said he'd no real practical knowledge about the firm?  Well, for the next couple of months, once I get things set up, I want him to rotate through the office, learning what's going on..  Right now, he's helping Annie with serving the coffee, but for the rest of this week he's helping Cynthia. She's a girl short.  It's a job that shouldn't strain him too much."  She came very close to giggling.

A few of the ladies looked at her with shocked expressions.  It was dawning on them that I'd been demoted from a senior management position to one, only slightly higher than an office girl - if that!  But no comments were forthcoming although they started looking sideways at each other.
Marjory let her arm drop, then faced me with a peculiar, warning, gaze in her eyes.  "Are you going to get the orders for the tea and coffee now Alex?"
And I knew what she wanted!  Wanted to make sure that my nose was being rubbed in it in front of her and her people.  "Yes .. Miss Thorn"  I replied, letting everyone know exactly that there was no question about my status, and that I'd accepted it.  I heard a few muffled titters, and a whisper from Elaine Williams.  "Never had a male coffee girl before"  but ignored them.                 

Stupidly when I brought the teas and coffees back into the room, I hadn't followed Annie's advice and listed what was requested.  Relied on my memory, not thinking that the shame and humiliation had  wreaked damage on my capacity to think rationally.  Naturally then, I couldn't remember who'd ordered what, so it took a lot longer to get the proper drinks distributed than it should have.  Marjory started to glare at me but I managed to scurry out of the room before she said anything.  She did mutter something to Chris who got first of all a shocked expression on her face – but then laughed heartily.  I didn't want to know what was said.   Finished doing my serving girl duties in a haze of embarrassment, although I think I was pretty well ignored by the time I was finished.

Sandi, one of the car poolers was standing chatting to Annie as I came out from the room.
"I'll get back to Cynthia then."  I said happily, glad to be getting away from that area that was proving so shameful.
"Oh.  Why don't you just hang on a moment?" Annie said, obviously thinking.  "You'll just need to come back to help clean up, and I've got some filing needs doing. I'll give Cynthia a call, and ask her if she can spare you."  

And with an "excuse me for a second"  to Sandi, she picked up the phone and called Cynthia. Her voice was clear and carried well.
 "Hi Cyn.  Look, I'm asking Alex to stay here and help me for a while.  Any problems?"  She listened. "Ok.  I'll send her .."   She tittered  "I mean .. him ... back after lunch."  She hung up the phone and turned to me.  "It's quite easy dear.  Those folders on that desk?  Just put them in alphabetical order in the metal files.  If you don't understand?  Just give me a shout and I'll be right over.  You'll figure it out in no time."   So, while she chatted to Sandi - and various other visitors, for the next hour, she kept me busy doing her filing. 

When the big meeting broke up, she had me go in and tidy up the conference room.  Chris was still there, talking to another one of the ladies, but managed to get away long enough to talk to me for a moment.
"You really did great Alex!"  She enthused.  "I know it must have been hard for you, but you really did good.  Gotta go, but hang in there baby!"   And with that, she gave me a couple of reassuring pats on the backside, and took off.  As I turned to watch her leave, I noticed Annie staring at me.  She might have been too far away to hear what was said, but she hadn't missed the general idea of the conversation.  Hadn't missed Chris's proprietor like  behavior I don't think.

 After I finished with the room, I reported back to her. She then had me give her a hand with washing and drying the cups and saucers that had been used, and putting them back in the cabinet.
"Guess you can go now"  she said carelessly.  "Thanks a lot, you were a  big help.  Make sure to thank Cynthia for me.."
"That's okay " I said, heading back for Cynthia's group, knowing full well that Annie was going to treat me as her personal girl from then on.

That afternoon, Edna Mason approached me.  She was a big blonde lady of about forty.  Very down to earth, no nonsense - of Norwegian descent I think.  Seemed to have a touch of a Slavic accent.   She stood over me, as I sat at my desk.
"Your wife talked to me about training you to do housework"  she boomed. "It is you, right?"
Blushing furiously, I nodded.
"Good!  First, does she still want me to start tonight?  If she does, we'll start with washing and ironing if you have enough to make up a wash.  If you don't, we can maybe start with cooking, eh?"  She put a big arm around my shoulder and smiled. "Makes sense to me.  Okay?"

Looking back, a lot of what was happening was anything but intentional by some of the parties involved.  At the same time though, my masculinity seemed under constant bombardment.  Without any particular incident, or any given moment, it was as if everyone's perception of me had changed.  I was now considered a woman - like everyone around me.  Or maybe not as a woman?  More like an effeminate male who would do as he was told.  A lowly office worker.

That's too strong a term perhaps, but there's no question in my mind that, around the time Edna spoke to me, I gave up - and started going with the flow.  In front of my co-workers, I set up my first lesson in being a housewife - I could say house-husband, but who would I be trying to kid?  "Sounds good to me too Edna," I gulped.

That night in the car pool, Agnes asked sympathetically  "Dinner didn't turn out too well last night, eh?"
I reddened.  "You're right there.  A disaster.  You guessed, huh?"
"Miss Denning upset?"  Diana asked.
"You could say that."  I admitted.
Agnes spoke again.  "I remember.  The first time I cooked George a dinner? It was so bad!  I mean, he was only my boyfriend - but you should have heard him.  Even pretended he was going to spank me!"  She giggled.  "Of course, I didn't let him .."
And the conversation went off into the rights and wrongs of being spanked by one's husband. I'll swear that, at one point, Sandi was about to ask if Chris ever spanked me - but caught herself just in time.  Annie was not so circumspect however. "You ever get spanked for being naughty? I thought I heard Marjory threaten you the other day?  You really don't want to get on her bad side, you know?"
I could feel the girls look at me and knew I had to reply. "Can't say I've ever been spanked.  Especially by a boss!  Ha ha – that Marjory is a GREAT kidder!" I managed.
"Just kidding, was she?"  Annie laughed shortly.  "Never heard her kid about like that before."  She took her attention from the wheel for just a second.  "I'd still stay on her good side if I were you."
"Thanks Annie," I mumbled, knowing full well that my companions were well aware that I'd been well and truly warned that Marjory could – and would spank me if given enough reason.
"She better never even THINK of spanking me!"  Agnes said belligerently.
"That's silly!  She'd never ever think of disciplining a good employee!"  Annie laughed.

Before the week was out, I had been assimilated into the crocheting circle with Agnes. I really didn't have much choice. Just one day at lunch she came up to me.  "Time you started getting to really know the other girls.  I've been talking to Annie and she thinks you should learn to join in better."   She then took me to a group of women and had me sit down.  After introductions I was handed crocheting hooks and yarn.  From that point on it was understood that I was a member of the group in good standing.   Chris 'congratulated' me that night but with a sort of smirk on her face, and I found myself incapable of saying anything.  A few times Marjory passed us all crocheting away.  "Hi Girls!" she said on more than one occasion.  The first time I didn't answer but she stood and looked at me so fixedly that I finally broke down and said "Hi".  From then on I answered her – just as the other girls did when she addressed us in that manner.

Within a couple of months I was not only an active participant in the car-pool conversations, I was the top housewife  student in the group under Edna's tutelage in home economics - this, from others learning of what I was being trained in, and asking if they could join.  Edna had no trouble at all and so I ended up in another group of girls.

As our house was too small to train six (that was the final class size), I ended up, along with the others at Edna's, twice a week - right after work.  We all wore aprons.  Now make no mistake, my apron was not what would normally be considered as one belonging to a man.  At the same time, it was no more effeminate than anyone else's.  Yes, it had a flower motif and lace ruffles at the hems but there was no sense in questioning things. There was no escaping that I was now considered 'one of the girls' - to everyone, including myself.

Edna was a very good trainer.  Under her tutelage, I became an extremely competent housewife.  Not only could I do more than rudimentary cooking, I had gained the confidence to depart from the recipes, and actually came up with some good meals.  My baking wasn't to the same level, but she assured me that all I needed was confidence. Using the washing machine and drier were a snap, but she was quite strict in demanding that I learn how to iron clothes well - particularly Chris's lingerie.  I protested that even Chris didn't do that when she had done it, but Edna was adamant and, after Chris raved about how good her undies felt, it became an on-going duty for me.  More and more, Chris would jokingly refer to me as her "Little housewife" even at the office.   Stupidly I made a public point of complaining about this  once at the office – and she asked me to accompany her into a private office.

Red faced she waved a finger at me.   "You're shaming me in front of the other girls.  Don't you EVER do that again!"  Once we were outside again, she mentioned to the other women that she'd just remembered to have her 'little woman' do something and made a point of staring at me, then telling me what she wanted to happen.  When I didn't protest and started to do as she said, everyone knew what had transpired between us in the office.

Edna also stressed the need for me to be a competent seamstress.  I breathed a sigh of relief when I discovered that the classes held at the local high school had just started their semester, and that I'd have to wait for a few months before registering.  She did teach me to sew by hand though - and, as Chris had never been one for doing much in that line, I had lots of her clothes to practice on - buttons on blouses, zips on skirts, small tears in dresses and lingerie.  Chris was happy with the results, but not that happy when she discovered that I'd been taking her clothes for repair to Edna's, and doing them in front of the other girls.
"I know it doesn't show me in a masculine light"  I protested.  "but it's the only way I can learn.."
She laughed, not unkindly.  "Dear?  Would you know a masculine light if you saw one any more?"
At my blush, she patted my arm.  "I don't care how feminine you look either now. It suits me to have you nice and obedient.  I just don't feel too happy about these other girls seeing my lingerie, that's all.  You all seem to find the silliest things to gossip about as you do your sewing over the clothes."

At work, I had my share of being the 'coffee girl' and, in one humiliating episode, Elaine Williams used me to go and buy her some panties that were on sale in her favorite department store.  But by and large, the novelty of
having a man perform as an office girl soon wore off and I was left alone to a certain extent.

At home, the difference in the relationship between Chris and myself was easy to see. Somehow, without any discussion or confrontation, I had become the totally submissive partner. I wore the same aprons to do my housework as I did when I was being trained by Edna - Chris even told me I was 'pretty' one time – it was the night after we had our little confrontation in the office and I think she may have wanted to underline her point.  Naturally, I didn't say anything – just blushed as she put an arm around me and had me admit that everything between us was just lovely.   I did the cooking, the housework, the laundry.  In bed, I waited for Chris to initiate sex and, to be honest, we had more - and better - sex than we'd had when I was in the driver's seat.  I now played the feminine role, underneath, all the time.  Never even thought of struggling now. I was on bottom where I belonged – and Chris was on top.  She underlined our hierarchal roles by sometimes telling me I was pretty and make me appreciate that by pouting my lips up for her kiss and twining my arms around her neck in a soft and feminine manner.

Time passed, and more change came.   Marjory Thorn was promoted to be personal assistant to the new, mystery, owner - and Chris took over the whole show at the office.  I think I felt a small quiver of jealousy, but in many ways was thrilled at my new status in the office - the boss man's wife, as one idiot girl defined it wityh a laugh.

I didn't have to work for Annie any more as she was moved to a different position.  I was even given a small group of two, very junior, girls to supervise.  "Don't let me down, for Christ's sake!"  Chris warned.  "You've been doing very well, and everybody knows it - but there's some who'll say it's nepotism. If I hear anything like that it will not go well for you!  Make you my permanent coffee girl!"
Sincerely, I promised not to make waves, and did my best to make her proud of me.

At home, our relationship continued to change.  I can't put my finger on any one incident that reflected a dramatic change in how we saw each other. For sure though, Chris was now the dominant force in our marriage.  She didn't beat me up, or anything like that – well she did spank me once, but it was more foreplay than anything else.  I found it strangely exciting if the truth be known.  It just seemed that, one night, I realized that I was now deferring to her opinion in most things – and that she expected me to be subservient to her!  I also noticed that she became very considerate of me, opening doors for me, ordering for me in restaurants - as well as paying the bill.  Looking back, I see that, as she became more and more self-confident, I became more and more submissive.

One night at home though, she seemed strangely nervous.  "You know, dear .. You've been doing very well in the cooking, and looking after the house - maybe I've boasted a little too much ...?   But I may have got myself into a corner and now I've something to ask?"
I couldn't help but blush with pleasure at the compliments  "Who have you been boasting to?"  I asked shyly.
She sighed.  "I'm afraid.. Mrs.. Morgan, and Marjory Thorn"

End of Part 2