Sunday, January 29, 2012

And a Happy Good Morning to you All!

Over that damned cold!  Lovely day here.  Going to add the next part of the serial - and a few 'bits' from Rosie.  But first of all?

I was brought up in a macho society where it was considered feminine to cook.  I am NOT, in any discernible way, feminine - yet I discovered in my early twenties that I enjoyed it greatly.  I now do most of the cooking for my wife and self. (Don't wear aprons though - probably too damn lazy).  Yesterday I tried something - something I'd never dreamed of before but is SO simple I had to mention it.

I sliced up a large onion - used a Cuisinart - so the slices were about 1/4 inch thick.  Sauteed them quite slowly in butter - over a medium heat.  After about ten minutes, I added a tablespoon of sugar.  Turned the heat up a little. Sauteed them for about another five minutes, mixing them well.  Bloody wonderful!  I've always enjoyed fried onions - but the taste is completely different.  Try it!

Here's the serial - Rosie's buts will follow.

Serial  - Career Paths May be Slippery When Wet - Part 4

Despite all of this?  Nancy seemed to not see or smell anything out of the ordinary. ( I thought she must have a cold, because both the registrar and our waitress seemed to notice it).  She won my heart completely.  For the first time in what seemed like forever, I was being treated with all the respect and deference that a man should expect.  Once, she actually put her warm hand on my thigh – right on top of one of my stocking suspender straps.  I was sure she had to feel it through the fine material, but she made no sign, so I breathed a huge sigh of relief when she removed her hand.

She had to leave early to get back to school, but she was SO sweet.  Told me that her mother had become so much happier since I had entered her life – had become a brand new woman.  Thanked me for this with real tears of emotion in her eyes as she promised that she would be the very best daughter that anyone could ever imagine and hoped that she and I would be the very best of friends for ever and ever!  When she kissed me goodbye, I almost died!  Somehow, she'd managed to undo my jacket button without me knowing it. Then looking me straight in the eye, she slid her arms around my waist – inside my jacket  hugged me and gave me a chaste kiss – though full on the lips!  How she remained unaware of my blouse material, or the feel of my undies under the thin material, I'll never know! There and then, I knew I'd DIE for this goddess!

I was sorry to see her go for another reason.  Knew that I had to play the part of the bride that night and what was expected of me – part and parcel of me being allowed to wear manly clothes at my own wedding. 

About a week before, Rene had taken me to a store that specialized in sex toys.  A haughty young woman had been very cold, until she discovered what we were shopping for – a special dildo for Rene to wear on her wedding night – that she wanted ME to approve of!  I was made to take these awful things in my hand and compare the 'realness' of the flesh, the color, the size. I even had to put some close to my lips – to give me an idea of how they would look later on.

The girls eyes shone with a feral gleam as I made my comparisons, though she was disappointed when I finally approved one that was "only" seven inches long – but brightened when Rene opted for one that could be stored with 'cum' that would be ejaculated whenever she wished.  "If you're a good little girl?  I won't ever use it – unless you ask for it of course," she informed me later.

That same night, Rene also had me measured for a set of leather 'Domme' wear all in black.  A corselet that incorporated a fierce uplift padded bra, that would make my real chest look like a huge bust,  an abbreviated skirt,  knee high lace up boots, and a mask – with a bright feather plume.  I was puzzled, but dare not show this.  Even the salesgirl was puzzled but didn't say anything as Rene was spending a LOT of money.

We spent our honeymoon at a small, but luxurious guest house on the coast. Rene had booked the whole house for us, with our only company being the hostess and one maid.
They had laid out a light supper for us with a nice bottle of wine, then retired to another part of the house, so that we wouldn't be disturbed – for which I was very grateful, because I was well aware of the part I had to play in our bedroom – not only for that night, but the rest of the week.

I showered first, then changed into my virginal white nightgown and peignoir, then applied light makeup, except for my lipstick which had to be a wet, scarlet, red. Other than this,  Rene  has never cared for a garishly made up face.  After I slipped into the dainty velvet slippers – which were truly comfortable – I went and told Rene that the bathroom was all hers.  She turned her head a little and viewed me in a sideways manner.
"You ARE going to be my little bride tonight Priscilla.   Right?"
"Yes Rene" I said shyly.

She held her hand out at waist level and crooked her finger at me.  I advanced slowly until her hand rested on my erection under the nightgown.  Then she flexed her hand and had me turn until her hand was on my buttocks.  I couldn't help it:  swayed into her fingers as they slowly lifted the materials of my gown and peignoir up, then slowly settled in a possessive manner in between my legs at the anus.
"Mmm" she said.  "Lubricated yourself yet Priscilla?"
"No Rene." I answered quietly.
"Might be a good idea?  I may not want to wait later dear." she told me.
"Okay Rene.  I'm sorry."  I said
"That's alright.  I know that you're trying." She replied, patting my ass softly.

While she was showering, I lubricated myself.   In truth, it felt strange.  How often has a male lubricated his backside to ensure that the assault by his wife is successful and will not tear him on their wedding night?  I also looked out the small receptacle that contained the dildo that she was going to use on me.  Opened it and laid it, ready for use, and immediately available.  When I heard the shower cease, I waited, then laid seductively on the bed – my garments spread wide in invitation – as were my legs.

She strode into the room, emanating power.  Stood over me, speechless and arms akimbo, just waiting.  Drowsy with lust and alcohol, I had enough sense to get the dildo, lower her pajama pants, and firmly set it in the harness she wore.
"KISS IT!" she said thickly.
I obeyed her.  It felt warm on my lips.
"RAISE YOUR LEGS!" she said next.
I couldn’t help it.  Did what I was told, but started to cry. Felt her straddle me, something strange at my backside.
"GUIDE ME IN!" was the next command.
Weeping copiously, I placed the tip of the 'thing' at the entrance to my back passage. She entered me within seconds. It hurt.

During the night, I was her 'wife' two more times. In all honesty, it became more and more acceptable – to the extent that I was actively participating in the last lovemaking episode we had.  To my surprise, I even ejaculated in a frenzy the last time. Feeling grateful that I'd had enough sense to wear a condom, and protect my pretty gown, I fell asleep, exhausted.

I'd heard the knock at the door, but ignored it.  Did hear Rene's "Come in" but paid no attention.  All of a sudden, I'm blearily looking upward at a rather pretty maid in her mid thirties.
"Coffee for the newlyweds!" she giggled.  "Would you sit up please?  Here.  Let me arrange this pillow." As she said this, she put the tray containing a coffee pot and two cups down on a side table.
Sleepily, I struggled upwards, not realizing until too late that my nightdress was clearly visible, giving an "off the shoulder" look.
At the same time, Rene was sitting up, sleepy, but well aware of what was going on.  With an awful shock, I saw that the maid was holding the dildo from the night before. A quizzical smile on her face  – and the observable truth was that it was MY lipstick that was clearly evident around the tip!

"My Mrs. Marchant!" she said   "It's SO nice to have you back.  But does this signify a change?"
"Yes Valerie. But first things first. I'm no longer Mrs.  Marchant." Rene started.
"Of course!  You're re-married.  I'm sorry." the girl said quickly.
"No.  That's not it. It's my little sweetie here who's Mrs. Marchant now. Isn't it, Priscilla?"

The maid formed a delighted circle with her mouth. "His name's Priscilla?  Quite a change from last time, I'd say."
Rene laughed. "You got that right Val.  Paul was a macho jerk. Priscilla is just a sweetie that wants to find his feminine side while he's here, so I want you to look on him – I mean her – as just another lady guest."
"Of course I will."  Valerie said. "That's a lovely nightgown Priscilla."
Aghast at this totally unexpected turn of events, I blushed and muttered a shy 'Thank you'

"Now girls!" Rene chided playfully.  "Time for chatting later. Priscilla?  Want to pour my coffee?"  She addressed Valerie. "She just can't wait to start serving me – like a good wife should, right dear?  Up you get! But Val, will you help her into her peignoir?  Can't have my little cutie catch cold now, can we?"

And, draped in my white bridal gown, I had to get up and allow a maid to help me put on my feminine, lacy, peignoir on over the top of it. Then, to add insult to injury, she showed me how the cups should be arranged on the tray, how to pour the coffee, then how it should be served to my "man". She left immediately after that, reminding us that breakfast would be ready in an hour.

At Rene's 'suggestion' I stayed up and sat on the side of the bed to have my coffee. She chatted with me for quite a while, telling what she was expecting of me during our stay – proper behavior (very girlish) – and TOTAL obedience.  She laughed when she admitted that she'd been here before – for her first honeymoon. How Paul had strutted about, bossing everyone around, and how later, she had come to despise how little backbone she'd displayed. "Thought they'd love to see a change" she said, smiling.  "Not only that?  I feel that I'm due some fun on my honeymoon."
"You are dear!"  I said assertively.
"You too of course" she said. "That's why I brought such a nice trousseau for you.  Just WAIT until you see all the pretty clothes! Gonna cream in your panties!"
"Trousseau?" I said weakly.
"Of course! What kind of honeymoon would you have if I didn't let you dress properly! Nice nighties – a couple of summer frocks – a lovely evening skirt and top set.  You'll just love 'em.  Just wait!"

She caught my horror.  "Priscilla?  I'm only thinking of you here.  Don't you understand that?"
I shuddered.  "You want me to wear dresses and stuff most of the time?"
"No, silly!  ALL of the time we're here!  Now don't look at me like that!  It's for your own good,  I'm telling you!"  She reached over and took my hands in hers.
"Didn't you just agree that I deserved a good time in my honeymoon?"
"Then just think a bit.  I love to tease and boss you around.  Love to humiliate you .  Spank you.  Make you cry.  Shame you in front of other people.  Right?  Isn't that true?"
"I guess," I admitted.
"But that wouldn't be as much fun for you now, would it?"
I smiled ruefully. "Could get kinda painful after a while, I guess"

"But?  If you behave the way I want you to – like a nice obedient girl?  Dress properly – in nice outfits.  Answer to the name Priscilla?  Don't you see?  I won't get so MANY chances to discipline you, so you can have a nice honeymoon as well – not walking around crying all the time with a blistered ass."
"Oh." Was all I could manage.

Then she remembered something. Got a fond look in her eyes. "Was I wrong? Did Nancy make a conquest yesterday?  Meant to ask you.  You seemed totally smitten.  She's a little minx you know."
"She's quite attractive. Not anywhere as good looking as you!" I said, lying in my teeth.
"How nice you are Priscilla.  Wonder what she would think if she saw you in your pretty nightgown and peignoir?"

I shuddered at the very thought. Here was a gorgeous girl that obviously took me for a man – an attractive man, I hoped – and finding out that I was a sissy!  The thought was unbearable!
"Well, I do hope that you two will get along .  I want you to be the best of friends." Rene said, interrupting my thoughts.
My heart leaped. "Well, she is a little young for me" I said carelessly " But I'm sure that we'll get along just fine."
"You'd better!"  Rene said ominously, then smiled, back to her cheerful self. "But lets get dressed and go down for breakfast, huh?  I could eat a horse!"

I was spanked before we made it to the dining room though.  Guess I protested too much at the clothes I was to wear, but I ended up wearing them anyway. A lightweight floral sundress, with a cute little jacket.  White gloves to match my white open-toed sandals Pale, thigh high, hose.  Full makeup – not much, but evident – a pink ribbon in my hair. "It doesn't really go with your outfit Prissy" Rene had said, pinning it in place "But it's so nice and feminine that I can't resist it!"

Valerie started serving our breakfast to our table immediately, calling through to the kitchen "The lovebirds are here Angela!"  and bringing two bowls of fruit cocktail towards us.  She eyed  my dress.
"What a pretty outfit Priscilla!  Those colors suit you so well."
"Say 'thank you Priscilla!  And show Valerie your dress properly.  Twirl a little for her." Rene commanded.
I thanked her, then twirled as gracefully as I knew how,  the skirt belling around my legs as I did so.  Blushing furiously of course.

"Ah!  This MUST be Priscilla!" I heard a voice behind me.  "Valerie told me all about you.  I hear that you're Mrs. Marchant now?  Congratulations!"
And I turned, and was kissed on the cheeks as a greeting by a gray haired, attractive lady, who looked to be in her late fifties. She smiled nicely at me than went and hugged Rene enthusiastically.  "Changed days, huh Rene?"
"You can say THAT again," Rene laughed as they disengaged.  "This time, I married the perfect man!"
"I can see  that" Angela laughed in response. "But I'm SO glad that you decided to have your honeymoon here dear. It's nice and quiet at this time of year and you two can have all the privacy you want.  Valerie and me?  We'll stay out of your way as much as we can."

Rene shook her head.  "Not necessary Angela. As a matter of fact?  I'm thinking of taking a trip down to the village this morning.  Have some shopping in mind.  I'd like you to join me.  We could do some catching up?"

I knew I'd made a mistake the moment I opened my mouth.  "But what about ME darling? It's MY honeymoon too?"  The complaint in my voice was all too evident.

Nonetheless, Rene was the soul of courtesy. "Of COURSE, it is your honeymoon as well darling. You don't think I'd forget you,  precious?  I just thought you might want to stay here?  Give Valerie a hand?  Learn little things about housekeeping?"
"Do housework?  But I'm on my honeymoon!"  The protest was out of my mouth before I could think twice.

The hush that fell was ominous. Rene looked at both women, an amused but  helpless look in her eyes. "I'm sorry ladies." She said. "I hope you understand?"
"Of course!" Angela said.  "Would you like us to leave?"
"No.  Not at all.  This may be more effective if you stay.  I'm just sorry I have to do it this quickly."  Rene said.  Looked at me.  "Before we came down?  Did I punish you by any chance?"
"Yes Rene." I admitted quietly.
"Pray, tell me what for?"
"For complaining." I said, close to tears.
"About what?"
"About this dress." I said, plucking ineffectively at my skirts.
"You did not wish to wear what I felt was most appropriate for you?"

I swallowed, audibly.  "Yes."
"Yet?  Have you not been told how pretty you look by Valerie?"
"Do you think she was lying?"
"Oh no!  Certainly not!"
"So?  You were wrong to complain, weren't you?"

I bowed my head, eyes starting to leak. "Yes Mistress."
"So I was justified in punishing you, wasn't I?"
"Yes Mistress."
"Tell Angela what I did to you."
"You …You.."
"LOOK at her when you tell her, Priscilla!"

I looked to where both Angela and Valerie were looking at me, both sympathy and contempt mixed in their eyes. "She spanked me." I said.
"What were you wearing at the time?"
"My nightdress and peignoir."
"Did you fight? Defend your masculine honor?"
"Did you struggle?"
"Why not?  I was going to spank you  - but you didn't fight me or struggle?"
"No."  And I started to wail.
"Why NOT?"
"Because you're stronger than me."

"So now you're complaining again, aren't you?"
"Well, mistress I . ."
"I didn't mean to.  Honest!"
"But dear?  For your own good?  Shouldn't I discipline you now?"

I sighed deeply. "Yes Rene."
"Can you suggest how I should do it?"
"Spank me?"
"In front of  these ladies?  Want me to put you over my knees – and spank you as if you were a little girl?"
"There's a clever girl!  Now why don't you come to Rene, huh?  Lift your skirts and slip up to let the ladies see your nice panties, then come over Rene's knees."

Shaking with fright and humiliation, I took hold of my dress skirt and the slip hem underneath and lifted them high – almost up to my waist, then started crossing the room to where she sat.  As I got closer, she used her legs to push her and her chair away from the table, smiling lovingly at me all the while.  Carefully, I draped myself over her knees.

*   *   *
End of part 4

And now for Rosie.  Makes one think, huh?  And thanks again to Rose.


What? Are you talking about Stacy? My secretary? Her bossy? Come on, she’s the sweetest thing alive!
She what? She didn’t? Beat you up? What on Earth made her do that?
Well you were being an asshole, honey. Serves you right. I want you to apologize to her tomorrow. Yes, yes you are.
You know, if you don’t stop right now, I’m going to put you over my knee myself.
That’s better.
No, we’re not having sex, I’m not undressing because of that. Though I want you to get naked too.
Just DO IT!
Fine. Now, take my panties. Like them? Pity. Now, put them on.
Yes, you heard me. After that, put on everything I’ve had on. It’s not perfect, but it’ll do. After you’ve apologized to Stacy? Ask her nicely to help you buy some nice dresses. And make them really nice and feminine ones. That skirt of mine you’re wearing now is far to manly for you.


“Suzanne! Stop throwing your weight around! How many times have I told you not to harass your brother?” mummy yelled at my younger sister.
“Sorry, mum,” she said, without really regretting her deeds.
“You’ll be even sorrier when you get grounded, missy,” mummy said, “Now go to your room.”
Crying not so much from pain as from humiliation, I slowly got off the floor and sat on the couch. Once again, I was, at twenty years, beaten up by my sixteen year old sister. She had always been pretty aggressive but I when she was younger, I was able to defend myself to some extend. Now that she’d began to grow into her adult form, I was no match for her.
“There there,” mummy whispered in my ear as she cradled my head in her lap, “It’s alright now.”
“Does she have to be so mean to me?” I sniffled.
“She’s just not used to her new strength,” mummy explained, “Once she gets used to being stronger than you, she’ll stop picking on you.”
“But it’s really embarrassing,” I whined, “She does it all the time. She picks on my friends, too.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, dear, but there’s really not much I can do,” she replied, “You know that yourself. If I punish her, she’ll only vent out her anger on you.”
“What if you make her wear dresses again for a week? It worked when she was younger,” I suggested.
“I can’t do that,” mummy said, “She’s not a child anymore. I doubt it would work. Anyhow, even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could. Since she’s outgrown her old dresses, she’s been only wearing pants. And I’m not going to buy her any new ones – I’m certainly not spending any money on clothes she’ll only wear as punishment.”
“But your dresses would fit her, wouldn’t they?” I asked.
“She’s far too young to wear the dresses I wear,” she said, “Especially to school. I’m sorry, I guess that’s out of the question.”
I took a deep breath, straightened myself up from mummy’s lap and stood up. I took a few steps so that the skirts of my dress fell nicely around me then faced mummy again.
“Look at this,” I said, pointing to a tear in my pretty silk dress just below the waist, “That’s what she’s just done. I mean, probably not on purpose, but still, she’s done it. Last time when she forced Roger over her knees, she also ripped the sleeve on his blouse. This can’t go on.”
Mummy watched me and said nothing.
“Now, I’ve got a couple of dresses I don’t wear anymore. I can easily alter them so that they would fit Suzanne. So has Roger,” I said, “In fact, all of my friends are prepared to sacrifice a frock or two if it helps to cool her down.”
Mummy sat quietly for a few moments.
“How soon can you have the first few dresses ready?” she asked.


maid carrie said...

MMMM - caramelised onions! Hard to beat - try them witch some roast beef - fabulous.

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