Sunday, February 5, 2012

Super Bowl Sunday!

Oh yeah - that's right.   The Sunday that America goes daft about.  Will tell you with straight faces that it's the world's biggest sporting event.  You remind them about the World cup - and the same faces go blank.  Then some of them remember.  "Oh yeah!  That's soccer - right?"

Well, when I lived in Europe I was a lousy soccer player.  Wasn't awful at rugby - but when I moved to North America over 50 years ago, I gradually got to like American football.  But my own favorite team aren't playing today - and I actively dislike one of the teams playing - so I may not even watch. (Plus - as I live in California, it's amazing how many around me could care less about teams from the East coast playing - so I guess I'm not alone).

In the process of publishing a book - call it "Milked Maids - and five other stories".  Damned if I can come up with a cover - any of you out there got an idea?

Just finished a book called "Room" by Emma Donoghue.  Kinda weird at first - but not a bad book, with an interesting concept.  (NOT about cross dressing though).

But the serial for today follows - plus a few bits from Rosie (Thanks to that sissy last week who wrote and reminded me that I'd forgotten to copy Rosie's 'bits' in.)


Serial  - Career Paths May be Slippery When Wet - Part 5

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.

*   *   *
"You know? You were quite brave," Valerie said, taking a sip of her tea.  "Hardly cried at all when Rene spanked you.  Though, my advice?  Weep and cry as soon as it looks like you're going to get it.  Gonna make it look like you're really sorry, and maybe she'll take it easy."  She shot me a shrewd look.  "Unless you really like getting whacked like that?  You've missed a bit of the polishing there girl!  See, down at the base there?"
"Sorry.  Missed it." I said, and polished the brass vase where she'd pointed.

Rene and Angela had been gone for well over an hour, and my backside was beginning to return to normal.  Despite what Valerie had just said, I'd wept easily and for quite a while over Rene's knees.  I'd really felt quite indignant. Sure I could see Rene's point, it probably was for my own good – but to spank me on my panties like that!  In front of strangers! For practically nothing!

Valerie had been SO nice. Taken me to her very own bathroom, and washed my face with cool water.  Talked soothingly.  Kept explaining softly how I shouldn't argue with Rene like that – especially in front of other people.  "Doesn't pay!" she told me a number of times. "Just do as you're told.  Be cheerful and obedient.  If you don't?"  She didn't go into details, but the inference that I'd deserve whatever transpired was clear.

Gradually, as I'd calmed down, she'd led me into her bedroom and sat beside me on the bed, a comforting arm around my shoulders.  Kept making references as to how nice my dress was.  Asking me where I'd bought it and how much it cost – neither of which I could answer. Finally took her arm from around me and stood up.
"Well girl?  We've got some serious brass to polish and you're not dressed for it. You and me, we're close to the same size. Why don't you just slip out of your dress and I'll give you one of my uniforms?"
"Oh, I couldn't"  I said shyly.
"Don't be silly!  If you hurry, you can be back in your dress before Rene and Angela get back.  Come on now.  Off with it!"

A minute or so later, I was resplendent in a Royal Blue maid's uniform.  I felt it a little dressy for a mundane task for polishing brass, but didn't want to say so.  I mean, it was awfully full skirted, and the petticoats were too multi-layered for housework.  But at least the apron I wore was reasonably functional.

Valerie picked my dress up to hang in her closet, then held it up against her and swirled to the mirror.  "Ooooh!  I love this!  Would you mind awfully if I tried it on.  Please?"

What could I say?  She's been so helpful and friendly.  Not only that. She was a woman who'd been pleasant to me – not bossing me around like Rene.  A few minutes later, she was beaming, declaring how lovely she felt.  Could she keep it on a while longer? Of course I agreed.

She got me started working on polishing the brass, but kept me company, chatting away about one thing or the other, talking about 'boys' and asking what experiences I'd had along the same lines. Seemed quite astounded that I hadn't had any.
 "A pretty thing like you?  You should have got out a bit more!" she declared. Seemed to have forgotten that she was wearing MY dress!

I couldn't figure out why she couldn't make the tea, or serve it.  Why it was me that had to go and get her cigarettes and matches – then her bloody lighter!  But then she explained that it would help me become more familiar with the house layout, and that made some sense, so I didn't comment.  To tell the truth?  I found that the mundane task of polishing brass gave me the time to try and figure things out.

I knew that I should be feeling humiliated and ashamed at how I was being treated by Rene –  but I was actually in two minds.  Sure, she had spanked me.  Humiliated me in front of two other women.  I should hate her, but knew that I didn't.  If anything, almost the opposite.

Rene had warned me – then acted.  She'd made a decision and that was that. I felt what was almost a warm fuzzy feeling at being married to such a commanding woman.  Felt proud of her decisiveness and a feel of 'belonging' to her.  Wanted to please her more than anything. Resolved to myself to be more respectful towards her.

She and Angela returned shortly afterwards.  I'd finished the polishing and Valerie had given me a break, so I was sitting having a cup of tea when they came in.  Rene came and gave me a big kiss.  "Hello Priscilla.  Miss me?" she said. "That uniform suits you.  But where is your cap?"
"Sorry Rene.  Didn't think of it" Valerie said, answering for me.  "But I'll go and get one right now if you want."

A little while later, petticoats swirling, a saucy little piece of lace on my head – and a new, lace, serving apron, I was serving all three ladies drinks.  I also prepared, and served, the dinner that evening – though Valerie (Who had finally changed out of my dress) gave me a hand.

And my honeymoon flew by.  Rene worked on her laptop most mornings, so to 'keep me out of trouble' I worked with Valerie a lot – making beds, running baths, laundry and ironing – scrubbing floors – preparing lunches and serving them.  After eating lunch, I went and showered then changed into clothes I could relax in.

I started to enjoy myself.  Valerie was good company and showed me lots of tricks in how to clean rooms, make beds – and especially ironing, so the mornings passed quickly.
(She also did my hair and, not only that showed me how to do Rene's as well. I spent a few pleasant hours tending to my mistresses hair that week.  She loved me brushing it, always commenting on how soft my hands were.)

After I'd changed out of my maid's clothes, I enjoyed getting into something comfortable. Then lolling around in the garden – or playing Trivial Pursuit with the three women if it was raining or chilly. 

The evening's were very calming. Mostly spent watching TV if there was anything worth watching.  If not, we'd all chat – while I was learning how to sew, crochet, and knit under Valerie's watchful supervision.  In our bedroom later on, I'd act the part of the shy bride, just like I had on our first night.  I can't say that enjoyed the dildo – but Rene didn't use it all the time.  She'd often just court me, then mount herself directly on to me. (I LOVED that!).

She didn't harass me in any way during that period, and I appreciated the logic she'd used in dressing me in women's clothes from the start.  I was now settling in to the persona of the girl she wished me to be.  The night before we left though, she shamed me to the roots of my being.  I've often thought about what she did, and think that she wanted to leave no impression of softness with the other ladies.

I was wearing the long skirt and blouse that I liked. Felt very feminine.  This feeling was enhanced when after dinner was finished and everything cleared away, Rene had me sit on her lap, then fondled me almost to distraction while chatting with the other two as if I wasn't there.

Lost in lust, I followed her eagerly to our room – though it did seem very early.  But taking me to bed at that time was the furthest thing on her mind.  Amazed, I watched as she pulled out the black leather outfit she'd ordered at the sex shop.
"Here.  Get into this dearie.  Don't be shy!"

I put on black silk panties, then she laced me tightly into the corselet.  It felt very uncomfortable at first, but I got used to it fairly quickly.  Then my bra and my skirt.  After that, I rolled dark stockings up my legs and attached them to the straps that were attached to the corselet.  Then the boots.

The leather garments were a lot more comfortable than I anticipated, but still hindered my movement somewhat.  Rene was giggling as she laced them up. I pumped my courage up.
"Why are you dressing me in this stuff Rene?  If you don't mind me asking?"

She lifted my skirt and patted me on the panties. "You've become a very good maid dear – and behaved very nicely after that first day. Tonight's your reward for being such a good girl"

She then made me up far more garishly than she normally wanted.  I actually looked quite cruel, I thought catching me reflection in the mirror.  Then the shame.
"Here, let me put this on you while I'm kneeling down" she said.  And started by lifting my skirts and putting a peculiar sort of harness around my hips.  I knew what it was of course – the harness she used to hold her dildo – but what could she possibly be doing?

Blushing hugely, I watched as she next attached the dildo to it!  It being the length it was, and permanently erect, it made an easily discernible mound, actually raising the skirt at the front.
"You look wonderful!" she giggled. "What a STUD!  Now, here's your whip.  Let's go and join the ladies after I change.  But while I'm doing that?   Let me tell you what I want you to be – and how to act . ."

She changed into filmy lingerie – very feminine, then enhanced that with a pretty negligee. While doing this, she explained.
"We ladies feel bad about bossing you about so much.  Figure you'd enjoy being the domme for a while.  So now's your chance.  You can yell at us and whip us – and order us about.  How does that sound?"

Frankly?  It didn't sound like anything I wanted to do.  At the same time, I thought it a very nice idea of theirs and didn't want to sound like a spoilsport, so I pretended an enthusiasm I didn't really feel.

"Okay! Don't forget master!  Deep voice and be forceful!  Dynamic!  Slash that whip!  Demand service!" She whispered this to me as she led me into the living room where Valerie, dressed the same way as Rene waited.  Angela was there as well, but seemingly had declined to join in the frolic – "Leave it to you young ones" she said. "I'll just watch"

Nonplussed, I watched Rene and Valerie throw themselves at my feet.
"We are your slaves master!" they cried.  "Do as you will with our bodies!  We are yours to command!"
"Uh – Eh.  Valerie.  Please kiss my feet?"
"Master!  You are too KIND!" Valerie said, and commenced to grovel , licking my boots as she did so.
"Rene?  Kiss my hands!" I said, a little more confidently now.
"Oh yes sir!" she replied and. knelt and started kissing my fingers one by one.

But then I didn't know what to do next!
"Well master?" Valerie spoke from her kneeling position.  "I am yours to command?"
"Me too master" Rene said
"I don't know what to do." I said miserably. "I've never done this before."
"I've never done it either" said Valerie "But Rene?  I think I could do a better job than Priscilla."

Rene thought for a moment/ "Priscilla?  Sorry. You don't seem comfortable acting the man's part.  Why don't you use our room then. Swap outfits.  You're about the same size."

I was actually quite happy at getting out of being the master.  At the same time, I wasn't too keen on being a slave girl either.  I told Valerie this when we arrived in the room. She thought for a moment.
"Tell you what?  Why don't you put on one of my dress uniforms?  You might not feel so uncomfortable?" she suggested. "But you'd better hurry!"

We actually weren't very long in rejoining the others.  I was now in a jade green satin uniform (Valerie's best) with frou-frou petticoats and matching lace apron and cap, while Valerie was very imposing in my black leather.

To this day, I'm not sure if it was deliberate manipulation or not.  First to make it clear that I couldn't play the part of a man – not even a 'fake' man, given the fact that the dildo was displayed so obviously.  Second, that Valerie should have such a uniform – I mean, how many maids in small guest houses have such things?

Whatever it was, it was one of the most degrading evenings of my life. At first, Valerie paid equal attention to Rene and myself, but gradually all of the onus of submission was placed on me.  I will not reveal where I kissed, licked, sucked on Valerie  - and on Rene at Valerie's orders – it is too humiliating. I was kicked (lightly) but kicked, slapped, spanked – by both women.  And I was whipped.  Not much, but enough to make me whimper and plead for mercy.  Finally, the ultimate degradation.
"Think you'll know how to be a domme next time Priscilla?" Rene asked, grinning. "Now that Valerie's showed you how to do it?"
"I'm not sure." I admitted honestly.

Valerie smiled.  "Well, let's try something else!  Down on your knees maid!"
And I'm ashamed to admit that I did as I was told, spreading my skirts and petticoats, ever so prettily.  Smiling so seductively.  So good in fact that Rene applauded me.  "How lovely!" she said.

My smile faded as Valerie advanced on me, the dildo pointing straight at me. All of a sudden, I knew what she intended to do.  I took the opportunity to shoot Rene an appealing glance, but she just lifted her eyebrows and gave a tiny shrug.  When I looked back, the dildo was right in front of my face.
"Open up dearie," Valerie said coaxingly.
"Oh please don't, master." I croaked.
"It's okay Priscilla.  Just say 'Oh' again  Then hold it." she said.

And with an audience clapping quietly, I opened my mouth and Valerie advanced the dildo into it.  "Say 'Umm'" she said.
"Ummmmm?"  I managed with difficulty as the thing was filling my mouth.
"Yes!  Just like that.  But do it more often – show how much you're enjoying it!"

Her hands had now taken a hold of my ears and she was sliding the dildo in and out of my mouth.  Once it got lubricated from my saliva it wasn't really so bad, I thought.  Unpleasant, but livable.
"You're not enjoying it enough dearie.  Not hearing enough 'Umms' " Valerie whispered, her own voice starting to show signs of sexual tension.
"Umm Umm Umm !" I started making the sound as she stroked the dildo faster and faster into my mouth.  And all of a sudden, she let out a hoarse scream  and, as she did so – something warm and creamy spurted into the back of my mouth!"

"Yech!  Aarghh!  Yech!  Bleeah!" I spluttered, but she was holding my face into her groin tightly now, and I had to swallow the stuff.  I then started to gag, at which point Valerie withdrew.

I turned to Rene, crying . "You said you wouldn't!  You said you'd tell me.  You said…"
"Oh SHUSH Priscilla – it was only cream!  Taken out of the fridge and warmed just a little bit – put a little sugar in it so that it'd taste nice. Stop making such a fuss – and say thank you to Valerie for helping you be a good maid."  She burst out laughing. "Maybe we could say you're now an official 'milkmaid'?   Say 'thanks'  prettily now!"

*   *   *
It felt strange to be wearing pants again – even the kind that zip up the back. 

We'd only been gone a week, but I'd been too long in skirts and dresses I thought, as I unpacked our suitcases and separated out our dirty wash for washing, while Rene went through the place, re-setting the water temperature on the heater, checking the mail and whatnot.

She came wandering in, waving a letter, a big smile on her face.  "Wonderful news darling!  Better freshen up the bed in the spare room while you're at it.  Candace has agreed to come and work with you!"

"Candace?  Work with me?  What are you talking about love?" I asked.

"Remember when you told me how good a secretary you'd have made if you'd kept up with your typing and shorthand?  I think I mentioned her then.  A lovely girl!  A mite straight laced and strong minded – but you'll love her, I'm sure of it."
I nodded,  "Yes.  I remember now dear.  But honestly?  I've forgotten all of that stuff.  I hope I didn't raise your expectations too much."  For some reason I was feeling very nervous about this, and it probably showed.

Rene re-assured me with a pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry darling. I'm not expecting miracles.  It's just that you're learning to be such a good maid now, it's probably unfair of me to expect you to he my secretary as well.  But Candy is so bright – and a wonderful, intelligent – did I tell you that she invented her own speed writing method? – girl.  Trust me, you'll LOVE her!"

I licked my lips, my nervousness increasing. "When will she be coming?"
"No time like the present Billie! I'll call her and ask if she can start tomorrow. She's arriving at the airport about noon. I can go pick her up.  It seems she's  going to be substitute teaching at one of the local Polytechnical Colleges for a two week period.  I figured she could stay here – and take you in hand while doing so.  Kill two birds with one stone and all that."  She looked at me, a question in her eyes.  "What's the matter?  Nothing to be frightened of. . ."

"I .  I  . I was going to ask a favor darling,"  I said using the soft tones that she liked me to use.
"Yesssss???"
"May I dress like a man while she's here?"
Rene shook her head, but more in a 'wondering' motion than  negative.
"But WHY dear? Are you ashamed of being a sissy?  MY little sissy?"
"It's not that – well maybe it is.  I'm just not used to it altogether yet, and I'd be ashamed at maybe not being up to your expectations in front of a stranger."
"This is silly!  I can understand this a little bit. But you're becoming SO much like a girl now.  If I allow you to go back to being a man?"  She giggled. "You really weren't THAT much of a man to begin with."  Then she sobered up. "No dear.  I'm afraid I can't allow it.  See? I let you wear pants for ONE day – and now look at what's going on! I think you'd better go and put on a little dress right now. Put your makeup on  Look pretty for me. Can't allow you to do all this changing back and forth!  It's got to be bad for you."

I fought back the tears, knowing full well that if I did, she'd just dismiss my request with what was becoming a standard response – often said in the kindliest of tones "But darling?  I can't let you have/do this?  Little sissies can't make up their minds and hold to a decision, so somebody has to do it for them.  You're crying now, because that's what sissies do when they don't get their own way – but you'll thank me for this later on. Just wait and see."

All the same, I knew my eyes were full when I said "PLEASE?"
She started to shake her head impatiently, then seemed to relent a little.   "I know this is a mistake!  Know it!  But any night she's gone?  In your prettiest uniform – right quick!  No grumbling!"
"Oh thank you Rene.  Thank you!  Honest, you won't regret it!  I promise!"
"Fine! I'd better not regret it!  But all the same?" She stopped and pondered for a moment.  "I've become used to having my little sissy husband about.  I may forget and, if that happens, I'll apologize in advance. I'll try not to boss you around in front of her, but you sure as hell better please her.  She's a good friend of mine and I don't want that friendship threatened in any way.  Understand?"
"Yes Rene (said softly, but exulting inside!)  I understand." Then, astounded at my own bravery "Rene darling?"
"What is it now my little sissy?" Her tone getting dangerously sweet.

"I was just thinking?" (At this she smiled maternally) "  Would you like me to pick her up at the airport?  It would save you time?  I mean, I know you're busy?"

I have to admit it. I was offended by her awestruck amazement.  "What a wonderful idea!"  she said. " My goodness!  You sure that you're up to driving all that way by yourself?"

What made me want to grind my teeth in frustration?  She really meant it!  She now seemed to think of me as having the capacities – and capabilities of a ten year old GIRL! In reminding her that I was an adult – and had a valid drivers license?  I'd truly surprised her!  She literally beamed at me as if I was a prize pupil, and had done something extraordinary.    I knew that I'd never have a better opportunity.
"I want to tell Candy that my name is Bill."
"Bill?  But that's ridiculous!  Your name is Priscilla – OH!  I see.  Kinda hard to look like a man if your name is Priscilla, huh?"

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.

End of part 5

And now for Rosie's 'bits'

17

“Oh, Mary, not again,” mummy rolled her eyes when she saw me.
“I didn’t really force him,” my sister shrugged her shoulders.
“Still,” mummy said, “You really should stop doing that. He’s growing up to be a man, for Heaven’s sake.”
“I’ll go change now,” I said weakly.
“No, don’t bother darling,” mummy said, “I’d like you to keep the clothes on for the rest of the day.”
Mary’s face beamed proudly at me. Once again, she had dressed me in my mother’s clothes. She had been doing this ever since I was big enough to remotely fit into mummy’s things, now, at eighteen years, I was about the same size as mummy and most of her clothes, including the shoes, fit me perfectly. At first, mummy would only laugh when Mary presented me to her, then, when it was starting to become a habit, was annoyed by it and told Mary to stop it. She never did, however she stopped showing me to mummy. Every once in a while, we got caught and as the years rolled by, mummy’s protests grew less and less intense. Accordingly, Mary made less and less effort to prevent my mother from seeing me dressed until she didn’t even attempt to hide it. She just dressed me and if mummy saw me, then so be it.
“Now, if I’m not asking too much, I’d like one of you to bring me a cup of tea,” mummy said, then – as if knowing exactly which one of us will do her bidding – turned to me, “And wear an apron, I don’t want you staining my clothes.”
Minutes later, I minced back to the living room, carrying a tea pot, cups, saucers and some biscuits, all neatly arranged over lace doilies on a tray. Mummy watched me pour her tea and mine, then nodded approvingly when she saw me smooth out her tight skirt over my backside as I sat down.
“Must I really keep those on?” I asked mummy with a pleading tone, “This skirt is so tight and my feet are beginning to hurt from the shoes.”
“Yes, I’m afraid you must,” mummy answered, “Maybe this will make you think twice about wearing my clothes.”
“But it was Mary’s idea,” I objected.
“You’re eighteen years old, you can’t blame everything on Mary anymore,” she replied.
“Couldn’t I at least change into some of your other clothes? That green dress you have?” I tried.
“You mean the one Mary ‘made’ you wear last week?” she asked.
“Can I?” I asked, nodding.
“No,” mummy replied sternly, “And if I hear one more complaint on that subject, you’re wearing that outfit the whole day tomorrow.”
“Yes, mummy,” I replied quietly and sipped my tea.
None of us said a word for a while.
“Could you fetch me my purse, dear?” mummy said eventually, “I’d like to check something.”
Gracefully as I could, I stood up and walked to the hall, feeling the silk of my slip slide over my nylon shod legs as the long skirt hobbled every one of my steps.
“There,” I said softly and handed mummy her purse.
“Thank you dear,” she said, and – as I was about to sit down in my old place – caught my hand and seated me next to her.
“Hold still,” she said, then took her compact from her purse and proceeded to apply some blusher to my cheeks.
“Nice,” she muttered to herself and took out her lipstick, “Pout your lips.”
I had to hold still for a few more minutes until she finished working on my face.
“There,” she said once having finished, “Now if you’d be so good to put away the dishes?”
“Of course,” I almost whispered and started putting the china back on the tray.
“After you’re done, I have some blouses for you to iron,” she said, “If you keep wearing my clothes, you might as well help out with the ironing.”

The ironing kept me busy until late evening as there was more clothes than just a few blouses to iron, including the dress I wore last week. When I made my way back to the living room, mummy was watching television with Mary.
“Finished?” mummy asked.
“Yes, mummy,” I answered, trying not to show in my voice the discomfort her high heeled shoes were causing me.
Mary gave me a funny look when she saw me up close, but didn’t say anything.
“I hope you learned your lesson today,” mummy said as I sat down on the sofa, “However, since I’ve made you do so much ironing, I suppose you’ve earned a reward. That nightgown of mine you seem to like? Why don’t you wear it to bed tonight?”
“Really?” I asked her.
“Of course,” she said kindly, “Unless of course you haven’t done all the work you claim to have.”
“Oh no, I ironed everything,” I said.
“Well then,” she replied, “Let me know when you’re going to bed. I’ll come to tuck you in.”

Hearing the sound of my mother’s heels hitting the floor, my excitement grew with each step she took closer to my room.
“In bed already?” she said, “I wanted to see how it fits you.”
Shyly but happily, I slid out of my covers and stood in front of her, displaying her beautiful pale blue floor length silk nightgown. Holding its skirts with my fingers, I took a few steps to and fro in front of mummy until I noticed that I was beginning to get a noticeable erection. Blushing, I covered it with my hands.
“Maybe I should wear panties,” I suggested shyly.
“Don’t worry about that,” mummy said, “Now get back in bed.”
She sat down on the bed beside me and covered me up to my chin.
“Did you suffer terribly today? Dressed as you were?” she asked me.
“Oh, it wasn’t so bad,” I answered, “The shoes made my feet hurt, but other than that, it was quite alright.”
“My little hero,” she smiled, “I feel so terrible for making you wear that skirt of mine for such a long time. I know that no matter how much compliments I get on its account, I can’t stand it after an hour.”
“But doesn’t it…” I paused for a second, “Doesn’t it feel sexy? The way it clings to your legs?”
Mummy laughed and brushed a strand of hair from my forehead.
“It looked good on you, you know,” she said.
“Thanks,” I replied, feeling that I was blushing.
“Anyway,” she said, “To make it up to you for today, I’ll let you wear something comfortable when we visit my sister tomorrow. None of those jackets of yours you hate.”
“What? You’ll let me wear jeans to aunt Bessie’s?” I asked astonished.
“Jeans? Heavens no, dear boy,” she laughed again, “I meant that green dress of mine you wore last time. You’ll look just precious in it.”

18

Mother could pick a better time to come home. Better for me, at least. I was with June, my latest girlfriend. Mother had already met her though I didn’t know what did she really think of her. I liked her. She was a big girl – taller and stronger than me. Her strength both scared and excited me. Not being a very tall boy myself, I’d been with bigger girls before, but June was really something special in that department.
When my mother came home, I was giggling hysterically while June held me in her lap and tickled me. I was trying to break away from her hold, but even with one arm she had no trouble keeping me where she wanted.
“Excuse me, am I interrupting something?” Mother asked.
“Not really,” June said, stopping the tickling but not quite releasing me, “Hello, Mrs. Bradford.”
“Hello, June, David,” Mother replied.
“Anyway,” June said, now letting me go and getting up herself, “I have to get going. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eleven, okay?”
“Sure,” I said and escorted her to the door. Before she left, she gave me one last quick lift. I’m not sure if mother saw me being picked up and spun around, but she must have heard my girlish squeal.
“Hello, mother,” I said when I came back to the living room.
“Is this how a man acts?” she asked me, “Squealing in your girlfriend’s lap? Is that what you meant by being a man?”
I silently dropped my gaze. I didn’t answer because I was more than a little embarrassed by what she had seen and moreover, it was really none of my mother’s business. Though frankly, I don’t think she expected an answer.
“Why don’t you act manly for me a little, then?” she said, then patted my thigh, “Better touch up. It’s been a while.”
I nodded and went upstairs to the bathroom. About half an hour later, I returned to the living room, wearing my mother’s clothes. Wanting to get back in her good books, I had put on a long silk dress she liked seeing me in, and since it was a little too big for me, shoes with five inch heels to keep it’s hem off the ground. I stuffed my bra with some of her scarves to fill the dress up front. My hairless legs felt smooth and slippery in her nylons stockings and they rustled seductively as the silky slip brushed past them with each step I took.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” mother said as I stood before her, “Aren’t you going to sit in my lap? Isn’t that how men behave?”
I sighed and, smoothing my dress over my backside, lowered myself down across her thighs.
“That’s better,” she said, “You know, you really look beautiful in this dress.”
“Thank you, mummy,” I said.
“I wish you’d stop being such a silly girl,” she went on, “I could have bought you lots of pretty clothes, suitable for your age, instead of having to dress like a middle aged lady.”
“But you said I look pretty in this dress, mummy,” I said.
“You do, but it’s not something you’d wear to the mall or to the movies, is it?” she said.
I really didn’t want to explore the possibilities of having my own dresses and skirts, so I shut up. Mummy didn’t seem to mind. She turned on the television and occasionally cuddled with me for a bit. She kept me in her lap for the rest of the evening, allowing me to get up only to fetch her this or that from the kitchen. As I went to bed, she helped me undress and gave me one of her nightgowns to wear.

“Rise and shine, darling,” she sang when she opened the window in my bedroom in the morning, “What a magnificent day. Just take a look.”
It took me a while to fully regain my consciousness. When I had, I noticed mummy was still in my room.
“Come on, get up. I made breakfast,” she said, holding out a peignoir and a pair of high heeled slippers.
I put them on and went downstairs.
“David!” I head June cry from the dining room. My blood froze.
“Hi, June,” I said weakly. I noticed that the clock was a quarter past eleven. This happened every time. As soon as my mother felt I was beginning to get too close to my girlfriends, she’d orchestrate a humiliating occasion after which I’d never dare to contact that girl again.
“Is this what you sleep in?” June asked.
“I, I, um,” I stammered.
“You’ll have to forgive him, June,” mother said from behind me, “He hasn’t quite woken up yet.”
I sat down at the table, facing June as mummy poured me tea.
“That’s a lovely nightie,” June said, though I wasn’t able to make out whether she really meant it or was only taunting me.
“I’m glad you like it,” mummy answered again, “It’s mine, but I let him wear it from time to time.”
“That’s nice,” June said, turning back to her newspaper.
I silently ate my breakfast, hoping all this would at least be over quickly and I could get back to my life as mummy’s sweet little boy. Occasionally, I sadly looked at June who was reading the paper and didn’t really pay much attention to me.
“Well, if you’re finished? It’s time we got going,” she said eventually.
I looked at her with surprise. Even after seeing me in my mother’s nightgown, she still wanted to be with me?
“I, uh,” I stammered again.
“Oh, David, for the love of God,” mummy said, then turned to June, “I’m sorry, June, but he’s really terribly slow in the morning. I’ll get him ready for you.”

Silently and like a rag doll, I watched as my mother first undressed me, then dressed me in black lingerie, a purple silk blouse and a black knee length skirt. When she was done, I meekly followed her back into the dining room where June was waiting.
“Oh, God, David, what are you doing dressed like that?” she said.
“I’m sorry, June,” I said weakly.
“Please, if I may,” mummy said, “It’s really my fault. I forgot to ask where were you going.”
“I thought we’d spend the day down at the lake, but if he’s going to wear that…” June began.
“I see what you mean,” mummy replied, “But really there isn’t anything appropriate for his age I can lend him anyway. However, if you are willing to sacrifice two hours of your day? I’d be more than willing to come with you to the mall, find him a nice sundress or such.”
“That sounds nice, doesn’t it, David?” June said.
Both in horror and strange ecstasy, I swallowed hard.
“Sure,” I almost whispered.
“Great. I’ll get my credit card,” mummy said, “Might as well get him some proper clothes while we’re at it.”
 

3 comments:

rocketdave said...

I am enjoying Rosie's bits. Hmm, that doesn't sound right.

I don't have any great ideas about your cover. A picture of a maid or maids seems like the blindingly obvious answer.

Anonymous said...

How do I add to the story - what if?

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