Sunday, February 19, 2012

A MAJOR point, a comment or so, the last episode of the current serial - and Rosie's 'Bits'

Good Morning!

My major point first.  A reader wrote me last week wanting to respond to my "What If" and wondering how to do this?

When I started this blog, I wanted to make it open to everyone - but I was warned off of this idea by previous blog owners, saying I'd get inundated by smut and obscenities. To phrase it as best as I can?:

Anybody can write in this blog.  ANYBODY. I simply don't want to be associated with nasty - so all anybody has to do the first time is write - and send a Word attachment to me at bdub2m@gmail  for insertion in this blog.  I will NOT edit it in any way - and will publish it if it has anything to do with subjects close to our hearts.  THEN?  If that person wishes to be an approved author - all they have to do is ask me. At that point I can make it that they can write to this blog at any time. I do reserve the right to remove them from approved authors if they get TOO nasty.  Thats IT!  Honest to God?  I WANT contributors with their points of view.  HONEST!

I obviously didn't explain myself too well about that cover for "Milked Maids".  It honestly isn't easy picking out covers - and I'm about as artistic as a brick wall.  That was NOT the choice of the cover designer I showed.  It was MINE.  (She thought it confusing).  So?  The next time I ask for help with a cover?  maybe somebody can come up with SOMETHING?  (BTW?  It's selling quite well!)

Well, here's the last part of the current serial.  I hope that you enjoyed it.

Serial  - Career Paths May be Slippery When Wet - Part 7"

You CAN'T be thinking you're going out as a man. Surely not!  Not after what happened the last time!" Mistress said."Just this once?  I'll never ask again.  I promise!""I suppose you'll want to wear pants?" she asked."Yes.  Oh please.  Yes!""You know that I'd get a great deal of pleasure having you wear a pink party dress – all nice, with your hair up – like a grown up girl?""Yes.  But please?" I persisted."But you're still bound and determined that you want to go against what I want?""Just this last time. Please Mistress Candace" I pleaded."Well.  Okay.  But you don't get out of that door without my approval.  Understood?""Oh Thank you!  Thank you!" I said, almost blubbering in relief.I was on pins and needles for the next few days, laying plans for what I was to wear – and picking alternatives just in case Mistress Candace didn't approve of my first choice.  This turned out to be a total waste of time.
 It had been agreed that Nancy would come and pick me up.  I remonstrated about this, but was told rather firmly by Mistress Candace - "It's her that's taking you out.  Learn to accept it.  She'll might open doors for you and pull out chairs and all that good stuff.  So if she does?  Don't you be spoiling all of that for her.  If I hear that you don't behave like a lady at all times?  I'm going to be very cross with you!  Maybe some day a boy will want to take you out. Just think how good this practice will be for you!"
About two o'clock that afternoon, she appeared at home, much earlier than usual.  "Well sissy?  Let's get this show on the road.  Get undressed and get into your bath as soon as you're finished polishing that silver.""I meant to shower for tonight mistress" I said as tactfully as I could."So?  What you meant to do is of no consequence, is it?   I'm going to take care of your preparation for tonight.  You may thank me later.  But I'll expect you in my bathroom very quickly.  Comprendez?""Your bathroom mistress?""Would you like me to repeat myself sweetie?  Which would mean you weren't listening?""Oh no mistress.  I'm sorry.""I'll run your bath.  Isn't that nice of me?  Making myself your maid.  Shall I curtsey to you Miss?"
The irony and sarcasm in her voice were becoming more and more noticeable.  I gave her my prettiest curtsey. "I'm sorry mistress.  I was just overwhelmed by your kindness.  I meant no disrespect."She nodded approvingly. "My!  You ARE learning, aren't you?  Don't be long!"
When I appeared in her bedroom, the steam for the adjoining bathroom was filling the air with a very feminine floral scent. She appeared in the doorway.  "Glad you could finally make it sweetie. Get undressed and hop in."
I'd never appeared totally naked before her before, but I had no choice.  I stripped off then wrapped a towel around me and walked into the steam-laden bathroom.  She was kneeling down, swishing her hand in the water.  "I think it's just right for you now – Mistress!"Shy, I nodded, then dropping my towel, tip-toed into the water. I had just got in with both feet, when she reached in and aggressively cupped my genitals in her hand."They're not really that much, are they?  Worth all the fuss?"
I didn't answer.  Just stood, shaking, until she let go and I was able to settle down into the hot, heavily scented, water.
Dazed with the heat- or cowardice – I made no objection as I was powdered with a large applicator when I had stepped from the water and been dried in a large, warm, towel.
I wasn't sure of what was happening when she started helping me into the clothes she had chosen for me that evening – they were very pretty, true – but were more the essence of femininity than the masculine clothes we had agreed on.  She HAD to have something different in mind I thought as I was slowly dressed in gorgeous undies of matching hot pink satin.  The bra took some time to fit to me as one of the little shoulder strap buckles gave us problems, but the camisole, panties, garter belt were no problem at all.
She then had me step into a three-tiered petticoat – one of the most ephemeral pieces of lingerie I'd ever encountered.  I think each tier was of chiffon, but each was edged with a silk band of about three inches wide and in a complementary color to the chiffon.  Each layer was in a different pastel shade of course, so the whole effect was very pleasing.
"Close your eyes and put your hands together up over your head.  Yes, that's a girl." Miss Candace said.I did so, then heard a rustling sound ,and then a delicious feeling of silkiness sliding down over my body."Lovely!" Miss Candace said, fastening me in at the back, then fluffing the skirts of the dress out more evenly about the petticoats. "Didn't I tell you?"
I looked at the girl in the pink dress in the mirror, then turned to Miss Candace."But?  But?  I don't understand.""What's to understand?  I  distinctly told you that you'd be pretty in pink.  Don't think you can deny it, can you?""But we agreed – You said you'd let me go out as a man!""Haven't you said enough about this man nonsense?  I know I've HEARD enough!  Now stop all of this arguing and lets get your makeup on!"
"NO! You can put me in a dress.  I can't stop you.  You can make me wear makeup and I can't stop you.  You can spank me if you want, but if you don't let me got out of these clothes and into pants?  I WILL NOT GO OUT WITH NANCY!"  I was yelling at the top of my lungs.  "I WILL NOT!""This is silly" she said gently. "You look nice. Nancy will appreciate you making yourself pretty for her.  Come on now."I shook my head and stamped my foot so hard, my petticoats flounced prettily. "Don't care!  Not going! Not going to do any favors for Nancy!  You SAID!  Said I could wear pants!  Yes you did!"
She sighed theatrically. "Okay.  Pants it is.  I'd spank you just now, but it would just get your face all swollen.  I'll leave it until you get home.  You can think about it all evening.  It's going to be a doozie!  You won't sit down for a week!""Don't care!" I said, and even I caught the girlishness in my voice.
Then she had the audacity to bring out pink satin pedal pushers.  "Forget it!" I said. "These are pants!  Put them on!"NO! Will not!
Her eyes were ice. "You will regret this. But just so that I know?  What will you agree to wear?""My men's pants. A polo shirt. I don't have any men's underwear, so I'll wear panties.  No Bra. No Garter belt.  My own socks. My own shoes. No makeup.  No perfume.
"My last offer." She said grimly. "Non negotiable. Black tailored pants – women's. White shirt blouse – women's. Bra.  Panties. No Garter belt, but knee high stockings. Women's slip on shoes – low heels. Pale gloss lipstick, nail polish to match.  Take it or leave it."  Then she added  "There is a string attached though. In addition to the spanking I give you?  You also agree to take a . . "   Her mouth twisted in a smile. "Special 'milkshake' from that dispenser that you love so well."
I was waiting for Nancy, as nervous as a cat.  A strange mixture of pride in my stand up to Mistress Candace was liberally mixed with the cowardly fear of what she was going to do in exacting payment. I constantly surveyed my reflection  in any mirror close to me. 
I did look smart, that I had to admit.  I'd fought (and won) another skirmish to be allowed to wear neutral colored undies – but I still wasn't sure if they could be seen under my blouse. I kept twisting and turning to see if I could catch just a glimpse of them, but couldn't tell. Mistress Candace swore blind that my lipstick and nail polish were colorless, but I'd said they were pink. That was another skirmish – but I'd lost that one.
At seven thirty prompt, the doorbell rang. I was standing, nervous as a bride, holding the black beaded evening bag that I'd had to borrow from Rene, to hold my cosmetics and a few dollars – 'Just in case'. Mistress Candace opened the door.
I heard her say. "My Nancy!  How you've grown!  Would never have recognized you!  Come on in!  Your date is waiting – all nervous too, if I'm any judge!"
And Nancy entered gracefully (how else) as a dancer should, stately in an evening skirt of pale lavender and a lovely top of pale white silk, embellished with pleated mauve chiffon, draped around her neckline.  Gorgeous!
She advanced towards me, smiling brightly, her arms widespread.  We met, and kissed gently – both aware of our makeup I think."Hi Billie!" she said enthusiastically.  "If you don't mind?  I think we'd better rush.  I passed the restaurant where I made the reservations and it looks very busy!  We'd better skedaddle!"
Gratefully, I fell in with her suggestion and we hurried out.  All of a sudden, I became aware of my heels making their sharp sounds against the sidewalk as we left the building. Then, from above us, came the voice of Miss Candace."Nancy?  Make sure you have Billie home by ten o'clock, Okay?   He needs his beauty sleep and can't sleep properly without some warm milk before he turns in! (Luckily, I was the only one who caught the inference).
But her prediction as to Nancy's behavior was absolutely accurate!  I'd been concerned that she'd notice my feminine dress elements but, again, it seemed to escape her notice. It DID feel strange having her escort me though.  Gently taking my arm by the elbow and leading me.  Opening doors, ordering my drinks – and my meals. Complimenting me on how love- great I looked!
But I finally reacted to this as well. "Nancy!  Enough!  I'm well aware that it's you that's taking ME out, and I do appreciate all of this attention. But it's  time you let me take over the male role tonight.  I don't want to have you thinking I'm some kind of  - of – sissy!  Now, I'm going to take charge!
She was so impressed. Turned her beautiful eyes on me and apologized profusely for even giving the slightest indication, that she had given me the feminine role to play on the date. I glowed with pride! Bloomed in the light of her admiration!  I felt virile, proud, and – let's face it – MANLY!   
I'm positive that Nancy didn't intentionally get me drunk.  I mean, I know I haven't a head for strong drink.  But what she told me sounded SO exciting!  I was enthralled!
She'd won an internship as a chorus girl in a famous Parisian cabaret – Le Crazy Horse. I knew I'd heard of it, so it had to be famous.  The only problem was, that she was so young – and they demanded that she bring a chaperone!  Someone mature and worldly and she wondered – would I be interested?
I was speechless, but thought that Rene would not allow it, and finally managed to say this, disappointment (or was it the alcohol) slurring my speech.   And anyway?  How could I possibly act as a chaperone amongst a group of young chorus girls – the management would never stand for it, surely not?
Ah, BUT!  The regular girls there were very well paid.  All of them had their own dressers – well, they actually called them 'maids'. It was a sort of 'status' thing with them.  Maybe I could sort of serve – double duty? A sort of Maid/ Chaperone?  This way, she could have the best of both worlds.  She's have the status of her 'step- mother' acting as a chaperone – and have a maid, just like the senior girls at the same time!"
"But Nancy?  I'm a MAN!" I protested."Of COURSE you are!  That is SO obvious! "But you can't have a man being your maid.  That's ridiculous!""But Billie?  I'm positive! With some work, you could have an androgynous look.  Like a very masculine woman?""You don't really think that, do you?" I said."Well, you really are very masculine – but with some training.  Some makeup . .""Oh come on Nancy!  Makeup?"
She turned her beautiful eyes on me. Eyes that were filling with tears.  "Oh Billie!  I was relying on you so much! Are you saying you won't help me?  I mean, I KNOW how difficult it would be for a man to even try to look like a woman, especially you.  But I was hoping you'd see your way to helping me out of this jam.  With you, Mom is sure to let me go.  Without you?  I don't know if there's  anyone she'd trust.  Please think about, please?""I'm not saying I won't Nancy.  I just don't think it would work.  That's all.""But you would if you could?" she said excitedly.
Somehow, the conversation seemed to have got away from me.  Things were definitely getting hazy.  "I guess so"  I said.  She got up from her chair and rushed to my side.  Hugged me ferociously "Thank you!  Thank you!" she said. "I love you!  You're the sweetest man I ever met!"  Then she kissed me – hard.
She was SO excited.  So cute as she babbled on about how she had been to this audition and that audition and who had said this and who had said that.  I felt so attracted to this luscious young naïve  girl that I let her run on and on.  She kept stroking my blouse sleeve and looking deep into my eyes.  I kept thinking that I'd like to drown in hers.  Then she looked at her watch."Oh dear!" I promised Candy I'd have you home before ten." She said."What time is it?" I asked, not wearing a watch."Ten after nine.""Plenty of time!" I said jovially.  Only took us about fifteen minutes to get here.  Plenty of time!""But Billie?  I have an errand to run. Just a quick visit to the beauty shop? My favorite operator made a special appointment for me at nine thirty.""That's okay Nancy.  How long should it take?"No more than a half hour.  But I don't want to get you into trouble with Candy.  I know she can be mean sometimes…""Please Nancy.  Let me worry about Candy.  After all, she's just here to help me with office stuff.""Maybe it would be best if I just called and cancelled the appointment?" she said, disappointment leaking from every pore."Nancy?  Don't you DARE!   I said I'd take care of Candy – and I will!"
Despite this bravado, I gently eased Nancy out of the restaurant, into her car, then sat on pins and needles while she drove us to her beauty shop. I was very pleased to see that we were there almost seven minutes early.  Not so pleased when they spent an inordinate amount of time gossiping.  Stella (the operator) was entranced by Nancy's chance at fame in Paris. THEN Nancy dropped the bombshell that I was to be her maid!
And Stella accepted this as if it were the most natural thing in the world!  Actually demanded that I come and see what little tricks she used on Nancy's hair. I would have ignored her, but she was adamant .  Bloody woman even made me put on a smock while I was 'practicing' under her supervision. She even had the cheek to run her fingers through my hair and sniff at my 'hairdo'.  Offered to 'take me in hand' before we left for Paris. An offer I ignored – but Nancy enthusiastically accepted!
Nancy wasn't going to come in. "It's twenty past ten.  Candy's going to be mad.  I'm sorry.  It's my fault. Please forgive me?"I was dying of fright myself, but thought things wouldn't be so bad if Nancy weren't there to see it. But just my luck, Rene seemed to have got home and came out and demanded that Nancy come in for coffee and a chat.
Nancy and Rene were talking happily as we went in, but Mistress Candace was emanating an arctic chill in my direction. "Where have you been!  I said TEN o'clock!  I distinctly remember – or would you like to argue?"
My resolve faded.  "Miss Candace. It really wasn't my fault.  I DID try.  Honest!""If it wasn't your fault?  Who's fault was it then?  Going to say it was the restaurant?""It was the girl in the beauty shop!" I said, happy that I finally had a scapegoat.
"Oh Billie!" Nancy said.  "That's not fair!  You were so interested In those little things she was doing to my hair.  She'd have been much quicker if you hadn't been there!"And I became Judas.  "But you left everything so LATE!  Didn't tell me about the appointment until the last minute!"
"That's not fair Billie!"  You said it was okay.  You'd handle Candy!"
Rene turned towards me. "Billie?  Are you back to being Billie again Priscilla? I think you are being very stupid and shortsighted. Showing off your masculinity again? Go and put your nice uniform on.  Serve us some drinks!"
I knew I was in trouble with Miss Candace – and knew I was going to be severely disciplined.  What was the sense in Aggravating my wife – husband - as well?
A little while later, In my jade green satin uniform, my petticoats, apron and cap I offered a drink to Miss Nancy.  She hardly looked at me as she took the drink from the tray but "Thank you Priscilla" she said kindly.  Then I heard her say to Rene. "What's this about a milkshake?  I think I'd like to see this."Candace said "Me too! Priscilla? Run and get the harness and your lollipop, would you?  Rene?  Is that cream in the fridge fresh?

EPILOG:Rene shuffled through her mail.  A brightly colored postcard caught her eye.  She flipped it over to read the message on the back:
Dear Momsy:
Everything  GREAT here!  Priscilla's a GODSEND! All the girls are jealous.  She's settled down so much since the operation!  We had a photo shoot scheduled and one of the girls got sick and couldn't come.

Sorry!  This shows a postcard of chorus girls in skimpy costumes - but buggered if I could get it to copy into this blog. Put it down to my lack of technical skills!

 That's me, second left from the center. Guess who that is, third from the right?   (Still has a tendency to be shy, silly girl!).  Some of the girls have learned how MUCH she loves milkshakes too – even though she keeps on denying it when one of us is giving her one!
                                                                              The End

And now for a taste of Rosie's 'Bits!
With my husband sitting beside me I waited for my sons to come from their rooms like I told them to. Norman, the older one, arrived first, a nice yellow pleated skirt with a black sweater. Daniel came about a minute later. As he was the youngest one and still growing, I had him wear one of Rachel’s old dresses that she had grown out of. I could easily have him wear Norman’s old clothes, but I opted for Rachel’s for psychological effect. A child’s red knee length party dress, a bit ridiculously looking on a fourteen year old.
“You may sit down if you like,” I said kindly, though smiling inwardly. With the spankings they had just received, it would take a lot more time before they’d willingly let their backsides carry the weight of their, albeit slim bodies.
The boys only exchanged glances but remained standing.
“Too soon, huh?” I said.
They remained silent.
“Well, I’m sorry boys, but you brought this upon yourself,” I said, turning to Norman, “Especially you. I thought you were old enough to know better, I thought I didn’t need to spank you anymore, but I guess you proved me wrong.”
“Sorry, mum,” he muttered.
“I’m not finished!” I raised my voice.
The boys twitched with fear.
“Moreover, you both proved me wrong on another thing,” I continued, calmly, “I thought you were trustworthy enough that you deserved the clothing privileges you enjoyed so far, but I guess I was wrong about that too. I expected that you’d behave responsibly if I allowed you to spend more time in boys clothes – to think I allowed you a week at a time. Well, that’s over.”
They didn’t seem too troubled by my words. I had punished them like this before and as school was about to start in two weeks, they thought their penalty quite endurable.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I said, “I’ll have to let you wear boys’ clothes to school, right?”
Even though they were being punished, they just couldn’t hide their smug little smirks.
“Well guess again, boys,” I said, “You’ll be joining Rachel at the boarding school.”
That did the trick. Their eyes widened in horror – Daniel was so shocked he even forgot to close his mouth!
“But, but, but mum,” Norman stuttered, “Please, anything but that. We’ll be good, we promise!”
“I know you will be,” I said, “The teachers at Bowland’s will make bloody sure of it.”
I looked each of them straight in the eyes. Norman dropped his eyes on the floor, Daniel started crying silently.
“I’m sorry, but we’ve been through this a million times. Boys clothes are a privilege you have to earn and respect, yet this summer you did nothing but abuse it.”
Even Norman started to cry.
“You know, I wish it didn’t have to come to this, but it’s your own fault, boys,” I said, “The decision is final. You may just as well stop crying.”
“But mummy,” Daniel stammered and burst in tears again.
“You’re going to Bowland’s and that’s final,” I repeated, “The both of you. Now go back to your rooms.”
After they had scurried away, I turned to my husband.
“You think we were too strict on them?” I asked.
“The school will do them good,” he said, “But did you have to spank them so hard?”
I smiled and embraced him.
“You know what the best part is?” I asked.
I felt him stiffen as I reached under his skirt.
“My hand’s not tired yet,” I said.


With a sullen expression, Dora, my mother in law, dragged my husband into the room. She had dressed him in a black knee length pencil skirt and a shiny purple long sleeved blouse. He wore purple pumps with a four inch heel, his legs were encased in purple hued nylons that matched his blouse. It was quite a pretty ensemble, actually. The collar of his blouse extended down his front all the way below the waistline and was clipped against the blouse with a thin patent black belt. His face was tastefully made up and his once manly eyebrows were now just two thin arcs above his eyes. His hair, although hardly long enough, was cut and styled in feminine manner. Even his nails were shining with a clear coat of polish.
“Dora,” I smiled, puzzled by my husband’s new outlook, “What’s the meaning of this? Weren’t you just saying how I don’t respect Jeremy enough as a man?”
“Yes,” she replied, hardly curbing her anger, “And since you refuse to listen to me, I had to turn to more drastic methods.”
“And you do this by dressing your son as a woman?” I asked.
“This is how you’ve been treating him,” she hissed, “As a wife. And this is what a wife looks like.”
“Well, Dora, don’t you think you’re over reacting?” I said, “Putting him in skirts because he does most of the chores in our house?”
“If you want him out of skirts, you’ll have to start treating him like you should,” she replied, “As long as I have any say on the matter, this is what he will look like until you start paying him respect a husband should get.”
”Well, Dora, I must say, I’m shocked,” I choked.
“Think about it,” she said, “That’s how it is.”
I walked up to my feminized husband.
“Doesn’t it feel this strange, that you’re finally taller than me,” I said, pointing to his high heeled shoes, “Or is that how it should be? After all, most husbands are taller than their wives.”
He blushed at my remark and twitched in fright as I touched the silky material of his blouse.
“Don’t worry, darling, I’m not going to hurt you,” I said soothingly, then turned to his mother again.
“These clothes, you didn’t buy them just for this occasion?” I asked, further examining his blouse.
“They’re mine,” she dryly replied.
“Well, it figures. The blouse is a bit big at the shoulders, not to mention the bust,” I said, “You do have good taste, Dora.”
“Thank you,” she said, not all sarcastically.
I turned to Jeremy again.
“What do you think, honey?” I said, “Should I start treating you like a husband? Like a man?”
“If you want me looking like one,” he almost whispered and looked away.
“Is that what you’re saying?” I continued, “That I shouldn’t make you do the housework? That I should let you go to work again?”
He remained quiet. I didn’t know how much he had complained to his mother about how I’ve been treating him and I supposed he’d be embarrassed no end if she found out something new.
“Should I let you be on top while we’re having sex?” I went on, looking more at Dora than at him. It was obvious what she heard didn’t please her.
“Maybe I should even stop spanking you?” I said teasingly, “After all, what kind of a husband gets spanked by his wife?”
Dora’s lips were reduced to a pair of thin white lines.
“Unless you want him to look like that,” she almost barked.
“Well, to tell you the truth, I’m not perfectly happy about how he looks,” I said.
Dora’s face showed a faint sign of triumph. I smiled inwardly.
“I mean, you did a great job on him, I want you to know I appreciate it very much,” I said, “But there’s still room for improvement. His hips are kind of narrow – I think his figure would benefit from a corset. You know, a narrower waist will optically widen the hips. His hair is another subject, but we can’t do anything about that until it grows out a bit. And the bust – we have to do something about that.”
I could hardly keep myself from bursting out laughing as Jeremy looked at his mother in horror.
“Though the main thing, Dora, are the clothes,” I said.
“Yes?” she said, not altogether as angry as I expected.
“Isn’t it obvious?” I said, “They’re your clothes.”
“What’s wrong with that?” she asked.
“Don’t get me wrong, they’re very nice clothes,” I said, “But Dora, you have maids at home, you don’t do the housework – your work is in the office. You’re a CEO, for crying out loud. Look at him. Does he look like a housewife to you?”
“Come to think of it,” she replied, “The outfit does look a bit on the professional side.”
“It will have to do for the time being,” I said.
“I suppose so,” she replied.
“Let me get this straight,” Jeremy finally spoke up, though with a trembling voice, “You don’t mind me looking like that?”
”Like a woman, you mean?” I replied, “Not really.”
”But mummy,” he whined, “You said this would work for sure.”
“Guess I was wrong,” she replied, “She called our bluff.”
Looking as if he was going to burst in tears any second, he turned towards the stairs.
“Where are you going?” she asked him.
“I’m going to change out of this stupid clothes,” he said remorsefully, “I never should have listened to you in the first place.
“Oh, no you don’t,” she said sternly.
Her commanding voice made him freeze in his tracks.
“I’m sorry if my plan backfired, but I will not go back on my word,” she stated, “As long as you haven’t regained the status of a husband in your house, I’m not going to let you wear men’s clothes.”
“But… But I…” he stammered.
“I don’t want to hear another objection from you,” she said, “I’ve done as much as I could to help you. I’m afraid it’s up to you now.”
He hung his head, then as if a spark had lit up in his eyes, he spoke again.
“So you mean, if I get Susan to treat me properly, I can stop dressing in women’s clothes?” he said.
His mother chuckled.
“In all honesty, in retrospect, I think Susan has been treating you properly all along,” she said, “But yes, if you convince her to let you get a job, I’ll allow you to wear men’s clothes again.”
He turned to me.
“Susan, please?” he said, “Will you please let me go back to work?”
“Maybe some day, honey,” I said, then turned back to his mother, “But until then? Would you mind very much taking him shopping tomorrow? He can’t go on wearing your clothes in the mean time.”

Sunday, February 12, 2012

A Few Comments - and Part 6 of the Serial

Well?  That Super Bowl wasn't altogether bad -despite my comments - was it?

But can't say I was overwhelmed with your suggestions for a book cover for "Milked Maids".  Thank God that I wasn't needing help with drowning.  This is what I ended up with:

Now - I'm pretty sure that I could have done better - but where were YOU when I needed you, huh?
A word to the wise here.  I'm not shilling for sales.  If you've been a constant reader of my old web pages these stories were all published there for free - so you've probably read them. (Actually the cover designer - who's straight - thought the picture would be misread.  I assured her that my kind of reader wouldn't have a problem.  Think I was correct.  Sales just started, but have been good).

Now I'm wondering if I'll get more criticisms of the above than I did suggestions?

Something I haven't done in a while - a "What If?"

Scenario:  You are deeply in love with a girl.  Both of you fairly young and of the same build. You can't seem to stop 'Talking down' to her, tending to deride the female sex - but this is just to cover up your own inadequacies.  She seems to look up to you and is very shy and introspective - makes you feel strong and protective.   You finally pluck up enough courage to ask her to marry you.  To your shock and disappointment she turns you down - on the grounds that you are much stronger and more powerful than she is.  You finally speak the truth and deny that you feel this way.  She doesn't believe you - but shows more interest.  You maintain that you see her as an equal - at least.
She shyly admits that she loves you a lot, but has always been in awe of you and cannot see that you're telling the complete truth.  Maybe there would be some way you could prove your honesty?
You rack your brains but cannot think of anything.
She brightens!  Maybe you could go over her knees and let her spank you?
You protest that you can't and she is ready to give up.  Then you agree to do this.  Start to go over her knees, when she smiles.  "Perhaps you should unbuckle your pants first?  Drop them down about yur ankles?"


Okay - here's the Serial.  Rosie's 'bits' to follow:

Serial  - Career Paths May be Slippery When Wet - Part 6

She sighed. "Okay.  I still think you're making a mistake – should say that it's ME making a mistake, but I'll go along with you. Just one thing.  You WILL wear panties!"
"But. ."
She held her hand up.  "That's it!  No panties, no deal!"
I took a deep breath, suddenly remembering that I'd lost all my male undershorts the previous week. "Okay"
And the deal was struck.

At the airport the next day, I almost fell in love again.  If I hadn't met Nancy beforehand, it would have been all over. Candace was tiny, with jet black hair, blue, blue eyes.  Sharp, intelligent, face.  Outgoing  nature.  Very conservatively dressed though – a real lady.  Nowadays when people travel, it is definitely comfortable clothes.  She, however, was in a straight skirt and white blouse.  Okay, she did have a tailored jacket matching the skirt slung over one shoulder – but I knew that, if she'd put the jacket on, it would have been immaculate!

I. on the other hand – and despite my preparations - felt all wrong! Clothes scratchy and uncomfortable – shoes like ten pound weights.  And my voice!  It was almost impossible to keep it at the lower registers.  In all honesty?  I felt like I was a female impersonating a male!

When I introduced myself, she gave me a huge hug – and a big, friendly, kiss.
"So you're Rene's new husband?  I'd pictured someone entirely different" she said.
"Hi Candy!" I said. "Rene's said so much about you!  Different?  In what way?"

She studied my face intently.  "You're not Paul.  I met him.   Once.   A son of a bitch.  Hard.  You're not hard.  Are you?"
I felt very uneasy all of a sudden as this pretty young girl turned what seemed to be searchlights onto my face and spoke with a measured intensity.  Looked away.
"No.  I'm not Paul.  I'm Bill.  Not hard at all."

I heard a musical laugh and she took my arm in hers. "Bill?  I'm sorry.  You'll find I have the habit of being very straightforward.  Can't abide liars and obfuscators.  Tell the truth and shame the devil – that's me!   It's just that your name doesn't seem to fit you. It just sounds all wrong for you"  Shook her head. "I have a problem with my ears when I come down in planes.  Must be that.  Please forgive my bad manners.  It really is nice to know that Rene finally married a man who won't treat her like some sort of idiot possession!  Us girls always seem to get attracted to the wrong sorts, don't we?"
She got a strange look on her face when I answered "Yes."

We had no problems getting her luggage.  The big suitcase was very heavy, but she surprised me by having no problems with loading it into the trunk of the car after I had some difficulty with it. Same getting it out when we got home.

Rene had been called out to some emergency, but left a little note welcoming her.  I wasn't watching what I was doing closely enough and, chattering away like a magpie, actually found myself in her room, helping her unpack and hanging her clothes up in the closet.  She had a puzzled look on her face most of the time and I couldn't figure it out.

I'd made a cold lunch in anticipation of her arrival.  Caught myself in time – was right on the point of putting on one of my aprons!  "Wish Rene wouldn't leave these things lying around!" I said in an aggravated tone, putting it back on the hook at the back of the door where it belonged.  Again, she had a puzzled look about her.  Kept cocking her head to one side and squinting her eyes at me – almost like an artist trying to establish a picture in his mind, but having difficulties. Then she'd shake her head.

When I served her lunch, she looked at my hand.  "You have very nicely shaped hands Bill.  Can I see?"
"Sure."  I said a little nervously (I'd done a good job of getting the polish off my nails, but wondered if she'd see any flecks that I might have missed) and held my right hand out for her inspection.
"Mmm" she said, then ran her forefinger up over my wrist and up my forearm.  She looked like she was going to say something, but stopped.

I brought my own lunch to the table and sat down across from her.
"So tell me  . . Bill  . . You're going to be working as Rene's manager?"
I blushed. "Oh no.  Did she say that?  I'll just be helping her typing up notes for her records, transcribing stuff when she doesn't have time to write them herself.  I don't see her using me much along those lines to tell the truth."
"Ah!  But you'll be filing her stuff – making appointments for her, answering the phone?"  She smiled.  "Making coffee?"
"Wouldn't be surprised."  I said lightly.
"More like her secretary then?"
"Yes.  That's probably more like it."

She took a mouthful of food, chewed, swallowed.  Took a sip of wine.  "Okay.  Let's get down to facts.  What's this all about?  You and Rene playing a joke on me?"
"Huh?" I said.
"Your name's not Bill.  You're a girl!  Who are you trying to kid?  I don't mind a joke – but when it gets carried too far?  I start getting annoyed.  What is going on?"
"I'm  . . not a girl!  For goodness sake!" I sputtered helplessly.
"Sweetie?  Don't lie any more.  When you were chattering away while hanging up my clothes? I called you "Bill' a few times while your back was to me.  You didn't answer.
And?  When did you ever see a MAN hanging up a girl's clothes?"
"I was only trying to make you welcome." I said defensively.

"You almost put an apron on – a pretty frilly thing.  Rene wouldn't wear anything like that in a thousand years! You have soft, girlish hands, and manicured nails.  No hair on your arms.  You're going to be taking over a job as Rene's secretary – a girl's job. Now tell me – and you better be telling me the truth.  Does Rene know about this charade you're putting on? Does she agree with it?"
"Yes she knows!  And it's not a charade!  I'm NOT a girl!" I said, but the conviction was leaking out of my voice as I spoke.
"Strand up, and come round here." She spoke quietly, but commandingly.

I got up from the table and walked around to her.
"Lift your pant leg please."
"What for?"
"Hush!  Just do it!  That's good. Now come a little closer.  Keep your pant leg up."

She reached forward and stroked my bare leg with her fingertips. "Smooth as a baby's bum.  How often do you shave your legs?"
"Not very often." I admitted.
She smiled up at me. "Finally?  The truth starting to come out?  What's your real name Bill?   Come on, you can tell me. Is it Pamela? Annette?  Patricia?  Melissa?  Come on now, Miss Candace is waiting!"
I sighed.  "It's Bill, though Rene calls me Billie at times."
"So, you ARE a girl then?  Gonna have to spank you for lying to me!"
"I'm NOT a girl!" I wailed.  "Honest!"
"Only one way to find out, I guess" she said – and started undoing my belt buckle!

"What are you doing!  Please stop!" I said helplessly as she was unzipping my pants. "Please Candy, don't" as her fingers took hold of my waistband and started pulling my pants down.

My eyes started to leak with embarrassment and shame as she lifted the front of my shirt to reveal my ivory colored satin panties with the mocha lace trim.
"Oh my!  What do we have here!  But I've been miscalling you, haven't I?" she said.  Then she thought for a minute. "Does Rene know you're wearing her panties?"

It was a technicality, sure, but I wasn't lying when I said "No".
"Turn around to face away from me please." She asked.
I did as she'd requested then, before I knew it, got a tremendous whack across my buttocks.  I squealed with surprise and the pain.
"Now Billie – or whatever your name is?  Go and stand in the corner there until I've made up my mind what to do with you.  No!  Don't pull your pants up, let them fall around your knees. Now?  Undo the first few bottom buttons of your shirt – and tie the corners together – like girls do to get a bare midriff – Just do it! Keep your face pointing into the corner while I think what to do with you."

I don't suppose that she kept me there for more than ten minutes while she finished her lunch and had a glass of wine, but it felt a lot longer. Finally she spoke to me.
"Okay?  I don't know enough about what's going on here.  I'm surprised that Rene doesn't know that her husband is a transvestite, but I'd just as soon not be the bearer of those particular tidings.  So tell you what I'm going to do.  First? Go and take the panties off. Put men's underwear on instead.  Then we'll . ."
"I can't, Candy,"  I interrupted.
"What do you mean – 'Can't'?" she barked.  "I'm truly getting pissed off with you!"
"I don't have any."  I wailed.

Her mouth opened, then shut again.  "You've done it now!  Made me lose my temper! It's not MY fault!" she said slowly, as if speaking to herself.  The scary thing though was the fact that her voice was barely over a whisper. Then, a pair of vice-like fingers had a hold of my ear.
"Come on then?  I'd like a look at your clothes!"  And whimpering and crying, my pants draped around my knees, I was pulled stumbling and tripping into Rene's and my bedroom.

When she saw my lingerie drawer, she simply pulled a long handled hair brush from top of the dressing table and gave me a resounding spank  Then I was dragged over to the closet to show her what was hanging there.  She pulled out my short black skirt and white blouse and threw them on top of the bed.
"Not what I want, but they'll do for now."  She looked at her watch. "I'll give you five minutes.  When I come back, you'll be wearing that skirt and blouse – and proper underwear. You'll do anything you can with your hair – and put some makeup on – except don't put mascara on.  We'll do that later.  Get going Billie!"  With that she gave me another swat, and left the room.

It didn't take me long to change clothes.  To be quite honest, I felt a lot happier putting my undies, blouse and skirt on – far more comfortable than the stuff I'd been wearing  I thought.

My hair wasn't as nice as it should have been, but considering the time she'd given me, it wasn't too bad.  She came in while I was applying  my makeup.  I'd been wondering why she didn't want me putting mascara on.  It didn't take me long to find out.

She sat on the big chair. "That's more like it.  Now bring that hairbrush over here and get over my knees."
"Please Candy?  I've done what you told me."
"That reminds me.  Now, when you talk to me?  I'm MISS Candace. That or Mistress.  Either one.  You'll also curtsey to me when I talk to you.  I want you to acknowledge that I'm your mistress. Now please!"

I knew there was no sense in disobeying her. Took the sides of my skirt in my hands and curtsied the way that Valerie had taught me. "Yes Mistress" I said softly.
"Very good!  You've done this before, I think. Over my knees now.  No more talking.  Just do it!"
Trembling, I took the hairbrush over to her, then draped myself over her knees. She promptly shoved my dress and slip up around my waist, bearing my panties.

She patted me on the backside gently a few times. "Know why I'm spanking you?"
"Not really, mistress."
"You've done nothing but lie, lie, lie since we met this morning.  I'm going to teach you that it is always a very bad idea to lie to me."
"But I didn't lie mistress.  I'm a man, and my name is William – oh!  Was William.  That's where the Bill came from.  Honest."

Her hand came to rest on my panties.  Started stroking me there. "I don't understand Billie. What do you mean when you say that your name was William?"
"Rene made me change it."
"To Billie?"

I let out a sharp squeal as the brush came in contact with my posterior!
"See!  Another lie uncovered.  Oh missy, you are not going to be lying to me after this, I can assure you" she grated.
"But I didn't tell any more lies," I said tears starting to run down my cheeks.
"You said that Rene didn't know you were wearing panties."
"No mistress.  You asked me if she knew I was wearing HER panties.  I said 'no' because I was wearing my own!"
Another major slap on my rear.  "Verbal sophistry!" she snapped. "I will not have you think you can bandy words with me you goddam pansy!"

I had thought that Rene spanked hard, but hers were gentleness personified compared to the thrashing that Miss Candace gave me after that. I knew then why she had made me leave mascara off – it would have been all over my face – because my tears flowed fast and furious.

Finally, she finished and let me get up.  I was given enough time to wash my face with cool water to get the puffiness out, then she watched me as I made my face up again.
"Come and sit on my lap sweetie" she said.
I did as I was told and she pulled me into her embrace, one arm around my shoulders.
Let's have a little girl talk, shall we?"
I nodded, and she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. "You don't mind me referring to you as a girl, do you?"
"No mistress." I said, still gulping a little from the aftermath of my punishment.
"Well, that's good.  You won't be telling me any more naughty fibs, will you?"
I shook my head, still concerned that I might break into tears if I spoke.

"Good! Now let me tell you about what's going to be happening.  I'm going to train you to be a secretary.  And something that's very important?" she paused as if to give me a chance to say something, but I thought better of it and remained mute.
"You must be properly dressed at all times.  Now in your closet there?  I saw a pretty maids uniform, didn't I?"
I nodded.
"So you're well aware of the need to dress properly for whatever function you perform.  Right?"
"Yes Miss." I managed.
"Being a good secretary involves looking neat and clean at all times. You must not wear too much make up – and under no circumstances are you to look like a tart. You will wear skirts and blouses  - ladylike at all times.  You're hair will be coiffed at all times. You will wear seamed stockings – and they'd better be straight!  Your finger and toe nails will be polished – and god help you if I ever see them anything but immaculate."  She took a deep breath, then continued.  "I will expect you to act like a demure young lady at all times.  You will do as I tell you without argument.  Is all of this clear?"
"Yes Miss."

She changed the tone of her voice, allowing a little mockery to creep in. "Don't you feel silly?  Sitting on a young woman's lap? Being talked to as if you were a little girl? Wearing women's clothes and makeup.  Just because I told you to do all of this?  When I'm so much smaller than you?"
"A little bit." I replied.
"Oho! So you have some masculinity left?  Why don't you fight me?  Beat me up? Come on, tell me why you won't stand up for yourself!"
"I'm scared of you. You're mean."
"You're scared of me?  What are you?  A coward?"

I hung my head.  She continued the verbal attack. "Say it!"
"I don't know what you want me to say!" I said, starting to weep again.
"Say something like ' I used to think I was a man – but now I'm Priscilla the sissy coward that deserves to be made to wear women's clothes and do women's work.

I started to try and say what she wanted me to say, but got it all garbled up.
"You didn't listen to me" she said.  "Something you're going to learn, my girl.  Oh yes!"
And I was over her knees, being paddled again, pleading and crying and telling her I'd do anything if she'd just stop hurting me.
"Wondered what all the racket was.  Hi Candy!  Glad you could make it!"  And Rene was in the room, coming over to where we were and giving Miss Candace a kiss.

Next thing was her taking a hold of my hair and pulling my face up to look her in the eyes. "Guess you didn't fool Candy for very long, did you?  Don't say I didn't warn you!"
She let my hair go. "Poor little sissy.  Wanted so much to be a man for you."
Miss Candace giggled.  "Think that maybe she's forgotten how?"
"Wouldn't surprise me one little bit!"  Rene laughed. "But are you finished with her now?  Maybe we might go and have a chat?  Let Priscilla do whatever little sissies do?"
"Great idea.  But do you know her sizes?" Miss Candace replied.
"Yeah.. Why?"
"If she's gonna be your secretary, I want her to dress the part."
"Good point?  When do you want to go?" Rene asked her.
"Now's as good a time as any to my way of thinking.  Just let me get Priscilla started on some tutorials.  Can't have her wasting time, can we?"

It was almost dinner time when they returned laughing together and demanding that I pour them drinks. I had changed into my uniform and apron so that I could  make the meal.  Then, once they had the drinks in their hands, the made me go through the packages they'd bought for me.  It was mostly skirts and blouses though I was glad to see some more bras and panties – I'd felt that I was short of those articles. There were two lace up corsets as well.  I didn't ask who'd be lacing me in.

I did feel quite uncomfortable in front of the two women as Rene made it quite obvious that I was to enthuse over each and every item.  With them laughing uproariously and making ribald comments and obscene jokes,  I squealed with delight and held everything up against myself and viewed them in the mirror.

Over the next ten days, I became Miss Candace's creature.  I minced and primped in the most becoming and ladylike fashion – corseted and dressed in tight skirts I did everything she asked.  Rene looked on proudly.  I think she saw Miss Candace as her own protégé. I studied diligently on her transcription method and brought my keyboard speed up to ninety five words a minute. I had plenty of time as, once I'd finished clean up after breakfast, I was pretty clear for the day.  Miss Candace was usually at the college until late afternoon, so I had relatively peaceful periods.

On the other hand, nothing was too shameful to be done to me.  One evening I was forced to stand to the side of Miss Candace's chair, my hands crossed over my apron, while she used her hand to lift my petticoats and fondle my genitals, while carrying on a conversation with Rene.  I was spanked for "squirming about" then put back into the same mortifying position , constantly brought to the point of ejaculation, but never allowed to ejaculate – on pain of the Worst – the very worst spanking you'll ever get!

They were discussing sex, when the subject of dildos was raised. Mistress Candace was most interested, saying she'd never used one.  Rene assured her of how much fun it was, but Miss Candace wasn't sure – so Rene offered to demonstrate.  I was then instructed to go and get the harness and the dildo – and warned that I'd better lubricate myself.

With Mistress watching closely, I dressed Rene in the harness, then – as ritual demanded – gave the dildo a thorough mouthing, before putting it in the harness, demonstrating delight as I did so.  Kissing the ugly thing and licking it as if was something delicious once it was in place.  Making happy and satisfied little moans.
"She's very convincing.  Does she really like it?" Mistress Candace asked.
"Don't think so, but ask me if I care" Rene said  "Bark! Priscilla"  she added commandingly.
"Woof!" I said, dropping to my hands and knees.
"Louder – and more!"
"Woof Woof!" I said as Rene came up behind me, then entered me doggy style, Miss Candace laughing and cheering as Rene pumped into me.

Then Miss Candace thought she'd give it a try – that is if Rene didn't mind?
"Be my guest.  But that is only of Priscilla doesn't mind.  You don't mind, do you Priscilla?"
Both of them laughed as I only cried in response.

Miss Candace wasn't very adept, so it took a while for her to get comfortable and insert the dildo inside me. Once she was in, however, she seemed to be enjoying herself, working it in and out very slowly, demanding that I 'woof' quietly, but often.

The phone rang and Rene excused me from answering it – "Seeing you're otherwise engaged!"  she laughed, and went and picked it up.

It turned out that it was Nancy.  Rene's voice was pleased and she was sending congratulations over the phone, and saying what a glorious opportunity it was, and how proud she (Nancy) must be.  Then I heard her say. "Oh?  No, he can't come to the phone just now" she giggled  "But I'm sure – yes positive – he'd love to.  On Thursday night?  It's kinda soon, but I can't imagine him objecting.  Okay love.  I'll pass it on.  If he can't make it?  I'll call you back and leave a message.  Bye!"

I'd put a rubber on in my room, not wishing to make a mess of my best petticoat, but the utter shame of being humped by a woman, while the girl I loved was practically listening to what was going on?  I ejaculated.

Rene was going to spank me for my lack of control, but Miss Candace talked her out of it, saying that I had been a great 'lay', but that she wanted to do it again some time for the practice.  I think she was, like myself, curious about what had transpired in the phone call and didn't want to waste time punishing me.

"Nancy has had a great compliment about her dancing.  Doesn't want me to tell you until later.  But Priscilla?  She wants to ask a big favor of you. Is even willing to take you out to dinner – think she wants to butter you up a little.  I don't suppose you'll object to a night out with your beloved, huh?"  She turned to Mistress Candace.  "Though I should have checked with you, I suppose.  After all, you'll be in charge until the night after.  What do you think.  But I think that Priscilla has a very big schoolgirl crush on Nancy – and she HAS been quite well behaved recently."

"Wonderful!  Priscilla going out on her very first date!  How could I possibly object!  I mean, she's done so well at her studies – she's almost going to be as good a secretary as she is a maid.  Of course!  We'll buy her the prettiest dress – and get her hair done – permed I think.  And. . ."

I started to pant with fear. "Please Mistress?  Please don't, I beg of you. Please?  Nancy thinks that I'm a man – and she is my step daughter after all.  Please don't disappoint her.  I may not be much of a father figure (Rene brayed "Whoooeee!") but I'm all she's got."

"You CAN'T be thinking you're going out as a man. Surely not!  Not after what happened the last time!" Mistress said.
"Just this once?  I'll never ask again.  I promise!"
"I suppose you'll want to wear pants?" she asked.
"Yes.  Oh please.  Yes!"
"You know that I'd get a great deal of pleasure having you wear a pink party dress – all nice, with your hair up – like a grown up girl?"
"Yes.  But please?" I persisted.
"But you're still bound and determined that you want to go against what I want?"
"Just this last time. Please Mistress Candace" I pleaded.
"Well.  Okay.  But you don't get out of that door without my approval.  Understood?"
"Oh Thank you!  Thank you!" I said, almost blubbering in relief.

End of part 6


My parents came home a bit earlier than I expected them to and I could tell that mom got a little tipsy. That could be fun. When she had a bit too much to drink, she always became attentive to dad. As she was this time, maybe a little too much for his own good. As they entered the house, she pressed poor dad against the door and smothered him with kisses. Since her figure hid him from my view almost completely I couldn’t really tell, but it seemed that she even lifted him up a bit.
“Don’t mind me,” I called out from behind the TV.
“Come on, honey, stop that,” dad said, “Jenny’s here.”
“Oh okay,” she said, letting him go.
“Hi, honey,” he said to me, my mother’s lipstick smeared across his face.
“How was the party?” I asked him.
“Okay, I suppose,” he said, taking off his jacket and loosening his tie, “Quite boring, actually.”
“That’s why we left so soon,” mom said, “Though I’m really in the mood for some dancing.”
“Honey, please,” dad said to her, “It’s late.”
“Oh, don’t be such a spoil sport,” she teased him.
“Besides, we’ll be embarrassing Jenny,” he continued.
“Like I said, don’t mind me,” I replied, “If you want to dance, dance. You make a lovely couple anyhow.”
“Really?” dad asked.
“Yeah, sure,” I said, turning my focus back to the movie I was watching.
“Well, I guess I’ll go get changed,” dad said and went off to their bedroom. He appeared minutes later, dressed in his dark red ball gown.
“Oh dad, you look so pretty,” I squealed.
“Yeah, dad,” mom said, wrapping her strong arms around him, “You look gorgeous.”
“Thanks,” he said, and slid out of her embrace.
“You haven’t been stealing my clothes, have you?” he said to me as he fumbled with the stereo.
“Why would you say that?” I asked.
“Because my grey velvet skirt is missing, and my white dress is creased,” he replied.
“Well, I…” I began.
“Oh, Harold, let it go for tonight,” mom rescued me, “She’ll overgrow your clothes soon enough.”
“I hope so,” he said, “Anyway, she’ll start taking yours then.”
Before anyone could say anything else, the music sounded and my parents spun around the living room. My mother, dressed in her elegant skirt suit and high heels, lead daddy around the floor, his gown flowing around him. After a few dances, she picked him up in her arms.
“You might want to turn up that movie a bit louder,” she winked to me, and then carried him upstairs.


Slowly, I was drifting from my sleep into the real world. After a while, I was enough awaken to finally open my eyes. I saw that Jasmine was awake too, though still lying down. She reached out to stroke my side and I purred with delight. Her feathery touches through the silk of my nightdress awakened memories of the previous night. I closed my eyes again.
I had never thought I’d enjoy myself so much in a male-female-male threesome. Especially since I wasn’t gay. Neither was Jeremy and both of us were apprehensive when Jasmine faced us with her wishes. She was a very persuasive young lady, though, and soon enough, the three of us were in her bedroom. Jasmine was in full control, neither of us expected anything else, really.
After a while, we began gradually, one by one, to get up, go to the bathroom to brush our teeth and so on, but we always  returned back to bed. Although we were still tired from last night, we were radiant with blissful satisfactions. Myself, I had never had so much action, so much sex in one night. In fact, I couldn’t even tell if I had had as much sex as I had last night in my whole life! I bet the same went for Jeremy.
The last night took the least toll on Jasmine, I’d say. Instead on lying down again, she knelt on the bed, facing us, her firm breasts protruding provokingly under her white silk spaghetti strap pajama top.
“Well, boys, aren’t you going to say good morning to each other?” she almost sang.
I turned to my right and took a look at Jeremy. His hair was tussled and he was still wearing his peach nightgown.
“Good morning, Jeremy,” I said.
“Good morning, Mike,” he replied.
“That’s nice,” she said, “Now sit up a bit.”
As we raised ourselves, placing pillows between our backs and the wall, she got off the bed, then returned with some cosmetics in her hand.
Even before she actually touched my lips with the lipstick, I felt my penis rising as the make up further aroused memories from last night. As she worked on Jeremy, I tugged the hem of my lime green nightgown all the way down to my ankles.
“Now say good morning properly,” she said after she had finished her work, “Let’s see some kissing.”
I took a deep breath, but despite not wanting to, I turned to Jeremy and we kissed lightly on the lips. With his make up on, he looked like a girl, and that made it somewhat easier.
“You can do better than that,” she said, took hold of us by the hair and pressed our faces closer.
We necked for a few moments, even caressed each other but when I felt his erection on my hip, I nervously turned away. Jasmine was still kneeling over us, smiling and eyeing us greedily. I reached for her breast, but she pushed my hand away.
“No, no,” she said, “No time for that.”
“But I though-“ I began.
“Mike!” she said sternly, “We need to get dressed.”
To awkward to say anything, Jeremy and I went to the bathroom to clear our faces of smeared lipstick. When we came back, Jasmine was already in her black lingerie.
“You better hurry up, boys,” she said.

“Can you zip me up, Michelle?” Jeremy asked me.
“Sure, Jenny,” I replied, earning an approving glance from Jasmine.
As I pulled up the zipper of his yellow dress, I couldn’t help but to run my hands down his side and held his hips, admiring the frothy material that flared out from the waistline and ran down, encircling his legs.
I pressed my groin to his backside, my penis swelling up again. Only this time, instead of climbing up towards my belly button, it pressed backwards between my legs towards my ass. I wondered if it would show on the back side of my tight knee length silk print dress.
“Now, now, boys,” Jasmine said.
Mincingly, I stepped away from Jeremy and took a look at Jasmine. She wore black – black pants, black sweater, black leather belt, black shoes. Her heels were probably an inch lower than mine and Jeremy’s, yet still she practically towered above us. As if there was a psychic connection between us, Jeremy and I came closer to her, trying to snuggle up to her, touch her breast, give her a kiss.
“Sorry, boys,” she laughed as she pushed us away, “I know you’re aroused, but we really have to get going. I promised the ladies at your office I’d drop you off.”
I looked at Jeremy and saw his face freeze in panic. My own must have done the same.
“What?” Jasmine said, “You thought this was just between us three? Come on, let’s get going.”
“What do you say, Michelle,” Jasmine said as she drove out of her garage, “After Miss Jenkins sees you like this, will she still let you be the boss?”