Sunday, May 20, 2012

Couple of Things

I notice that I'm getting a few ads in the Comments for Escort Services - in India no less.  I don't care for this at all.  I don't advertise on my blog - and don't care for other people doing it - so please don't think that I go  along with it.  I don't - and the minute I can find out how to delete things like this, I'll do it.
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That para question of Carrie's last week  I've found myself thinking about it constantly.  Sure as hell, there IS a difference between men and women in how they want / perceive their mates. Let me say this, before I even start.  What follows is OPINION  - and probably half-baked at that.  I think that women want a man who will provide for them. Now what is meant by 'provide' will depend on the individual woman - but I feel that a woman wants (mostly) material things - a house, clothing, food - and especially, the feeling that she is protected by the male.
A man on the other hand?  I think that sexual satisfaction is prevalent amongst his wishes - BUT?  The fact that other men KNOW that he's taken care of in this regard is important.  That's why he may prefer a dumpy woman in bed - but wants a starlet type on his arm in public.  (Us poor sissies?  I think that if we're in a group where we KNOW that all the males are sissies?  Then we want a handsome, domineering women - and us taking HER arm!).

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I said I don't advertize on this blog - but there are exceptions when I do something a wee bit unusual. I make no pretense that I publish books on Lulu, Smashwords - and recently Amazon Kindle.  When I first started self publishing, I was involved in Lulu only. I used Dave Bishop's cartoons for three of my covers.  "Safe House for Sissies": "Sissie Debasement": and "Making a Man a Maid".  They were absolutely fine - but as I expanded - it became increasingly obvious that making the cartoons fit the cover requirements for Smashwords and Kindle was just too difficult.
So?  This is to warn any of you that purchased those original books.  They are being re-issued as the same titles  under different covers, and now, even though they contain an additional novelette, please don't buy them -you've already spent money.

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The story that follows is one of my earlier ones.  I was often criticized (probably rightly so) - that my males were wimps.  In this story, the ending is a wee bit different.

(BTW?  I always knew that I was prolific, but getting my stories together to fit into books for sale has made me a wee bit more organized. I was quite amazed this morning to find that I wrote 123 stories, 70 novelettes - and god knows how many custom stories.  I don't write any more, but must admit to being a wee bit on the proud side. I DID write a lot!).


By Bea

It took me a long, long time to figure out why Mary married me.
To be honest, I don't think either one of us was originally at fault.  We sort of drifted into a relationship.  We 'liked' each other enough - but there was no great passion there, if you know what I mean.  Sex was no great hell with us either.  Neither one of us was aggressive enough to constantly be the initiator, so there was a great deal of fumbling around and more than one disappointing performance.
I had no real skills to offer in the marketplace, so went from on low level clerical job to another.  She, on the other hand, got a job in admin services with a reasonably sized corporation - and started climbing the corporate ladder.  As she got more and more used to the managerial role, her nature became more and more authoritarian.  At the same time, my role became more and more passive.     
We still got on alright, though Mary got more and more in the habit of putting me down, both in public and private.  I took it - it really didn't bother me a great deal, and I didn't care to fight.
After some years, we won a fair amount of money in the state lottery.  Not 'millions', but enough that we were comfortable.  I pretty well started taking care of the house, and everything that went with it.  I was reasonably good at it - which, instead of making Mary happy, just seemed to give her more room for criticism.
About this time, she got very interested in the feminism movement.  I saw a lot of sense in what they were doing and did a lot of volunteer work for them.  Like anything else I did, it was clerical in nature, though I was showing signs of becoming a reasonably efficient secretary.  She, on the other hand, became a power in the political sense of the word, so once again, we seemed to find the appropriate slots for ourselves.
As time passed, she became more and more involved - and more and more angry at the male sex in general - and me in particular.  She couldn't leave me alone.  One minute I was being raked over the coals for all of the bad things males have done to women since the beginning of time - and the next minute, sneered at for being such a poor excuse for a man, hob-nobbing with nothing but women, doing woman's work - maybe I should start wearing skirts?
She wasn't too popular with the other women to tell the truth.  I think that sometimes she'd talk down to me in front of them, thinking they'd agree, but once another lady pulled her up.  "What are you bitchin' about Mary?  You nag the hell out of the poor fella for things he had nothing to do with - then because he's helping the cause you criticize him for not being manly enough.  Why don't you leave him alone?"
Mary was furious, but hid it until we got home.  We were no sooner in the door when she attacked me physically.  In actuality, she probably outweighs me by a little - I'm very slightly built, but I should probably have put up a better fight.  I didn't though, and ended up over her knee getting a sound spanking.  After she finished, she left the house for a short time and came back with some frilly feminine aprons for me to wear  "While you're doing your sweet little housewife act dearie."  She mocked, putting a pink one over my head and tying the bow behind me.
And I became even meeker, and more submissive.  Naturally, this led to frilly nightgowns for me in the bedroom - to 'remind' me to be more masculine.  This didn't seem to satisfy her though, and she had actually started making noises about making me wear panties all the time if I didn't 'straighten' myself out, when a major development occurred.
Our local chapter bought what had been a private girl's school out in the country, with the idea of converting it to a shelter for battered women.  They were desperate for volunteers to help renovate the place, clean, paint, and do some general tidying.  Mary tried to get permission from her work for a three month sabbatical.  They refused, so she quit - then volunteered both of our services.
Evelyn, the woman that I did most of my secretarial work for, was going to head up the project.  She wasn't too keen about having me along.  "It looks bad, Mary.  We've really pressed on the fact that it's going to be primarily a woman's project.  A lot of the girls are going to think that we need a man to boss us around.."     
"Him?"  Mary sneered.  "Who in the world is ever going to think that he's a man?  Anyway, he's hopeless at doing any kind of fix-it work.  He's going to be handy to work with the other girls in the kitchen, do the washing, and so on.  And anyway - aren't you still going to need a secretary while you're there?  He can do that of course - that's not too hard for the poor little thing."
Evelyn pursed her mouth, and turned to me.  "What do you think?"  She asked kindly.  "I know that you get on well with all of the girls.. But how are you going to feel living with women, twenty-four hours a day?  That place is pretty isolated and insulated from men.."     
Mary never gave her a chance to finish.  "He's with women, twenty four hours a day right now, so what's the difference?"     
Evelyn looked stunned.  "But surely, surely, you have some men friends?"  she asked me.     
"He did."  Mary sneered  "But I think they were too masculine for him - he much prefers the company of women now, don't you sweetie?"     
I was going to tell Evelyn how Mary had made herself so miserable any time I saw or spoke to another guy that I'd finally lost all contact with what friends (there weren't many to tell the truth) I had.  Just as I opened my mouth to speak, Mary looked at me fixedly, and lightly spanked the back of her left hand with her right.  She made no attempt to hide it - she was threatening to spank me, and I'm sure Evelyn caught it.
So, before I could speak, Evelyn saved me the embarrassment.  "Well.  I can't say that the two of you wouldn't be of great help, so I'll accept.  But keep in mind that all the other girls who are coming will have to approve him before it'll be final."     
Mary gave a tight smile.  "I don't see any problem there, do you sweetie?  After all, you're practically one of the girls anyway, aren't you?"     
Blushing furiously, I started to leave the room.  Mary's voice cracked over me like a whip.  "I asked you a question sweetie.  You are practically one of the girls, aren't you?"      
Head down, I answered  "Yes."     
"See Evelyn?  Nothing to worry about.  So us two girls'll just leave you and let you get on with your work.  Bye!"  And we left.
I really didn't mind the company of women.  I'd learned to appreciate the fact that I felt more comfortable around them, but Mary was making me increasingly unhappy - wanting me to be feminine one minute, then scorning me for it a few minutes later.  The interview with Evelyn had been the worst experience until then, but became only too commonplace after we arrived at the shelter.
I got my new name within a few days of arriving there.  As Mary had indicated, I was put to work in the kitchens and in the laundry, doing the washing and ironing.  A definite strata formed immediately.  There were about twenty four of us there, all of us full time.  Some of the girls were decidedly skilled in electrical work, some had plumbing knowledge, some painting.  They were the 'elite'.  The more feminine 'helpless' ones did their thing in the kitchen and laundry - my domain.  I did try and volunteer to help some of the others but, when Mary heard of it  she mocked the idea completely.  "You?  Do carpentry work?  Oh my goodness!  Your nice nails might get all broken dear - and you might tear your pretty apron.  No.  I don't think I could allow that.  Why don't you go back with the other girls in the kitchen dear?"
Some of the girls sympathized with me but, as I never fought for myself and gave into Mary every time, lost respect.  Some of them even taunted me now.     
One day, two of them were struggling to move a large wooden sideboard up some stairs.  It was difficult work and the sweat was running down their faces.  I was passing.  Unfortunately I was wearing one of my more feminine aprons.  I felt the two of them staring at me.     
"I'm not really very strong."  I started.  "But maybe I could help.."     
One of them snorted in disbelief, the other considered for a second.  "Oh c'mon Debbie"  she said  " I know he's not exactly Arnold Scwa.. Arnold Schwarzen  .. What's that big guy's name again?"     
"It's 'Egger'"  I offered  ".. Schwartzen.. Egger." Then I laughed " and you're right you know, I'm not like him at all."
Debbie snorted again.  "Right you are, little doll.  In your pretty apron, you're a lot closer to being that other film star, you know?   Samantha Egger.  Yeah.  I'd say Samantha suited you right down to the ground.."     
Naturally, Mary picked this precise second to be passing.  She let out a squeal of pretended outrage.  "She called you a little 'doll' sweetie.  She called you Saaamaaanthaaa - that's a girl's name.  I think you better go and punch her on the nose.  If you don't, I'll have to start calling you Samantha too.."     
"Aw, c'mon Mary."  Debbie said.  "I apologize.  I was just jawboning him.."     
"I don't think of 'him' as a him."  Mary retorted.  "From now on, she's  'Samantha' as far as I'm concerned.  And she stalked away.
At the next general meeting of the crew, (we had a general meeting once a week)  Mary gaily announced that I had a new name, and familiarized everyone with it. Debbie tried to apologize, but the damage was done.  From that point on, I was Samantha to just about everyone - even Evelyn.      
At night, together, Mary was becoming more and more aggressive.  In a series of extremely feminine nightgowns, I acted the wife's role more and more, with her constantly heaping scorn on me.
I had developed a fairly warm friendship with two of the girls I worked with in the kitchen, Toni and Margaret.  Naturally, this was another area where Mary attacked me  "Getting sooo friendly with the pretty girls are we?  Going to learn how to be one some day.?"  Then it happened.
Just before one of the weekly general meetings, Toni and Margaret came to our room.     
"Would it be alright if we borrowed Samantha for a little while?"  Margaret asked Mary.     
Mary smiled sweetly.  "Of course you may!"  She then turned to me  "Why don't you run along with your little friends dear.  Don't do anything naughty now! - And don't forget to show for the meeting!"     
 I blushed furiously at both the tone Mary was using in talking to me, and the actual words she used - 'little friends' indeed!  Nevertheless, with the two young girls each holding onto one of my arms, I was hustled out of the room and along the corridor to Toni's room before I could even think of a reply.
"Sit there for a sec!"  Margaret commanded, pointing to the edge of the bed.     
As I did so, I heard Toni say  "Samantha?"     
As I turned to her, a flash went off, and I realized that I'd had my photograph taken.     
"What are you two up to?"  I laughed.     
"Oh, ... nothing much."  Toni murmured, intent on unloading the polaroid film, and watch it develop.     
"Maybe a good idea to take a couple more?  Maybe one or two standing?"  Margaret suggested.
"That might be a very good idea!"  Toni agreed.  "Here Samantha.  Smile for the camera .. There's a good girl."
"Please Toni"  I complained  "I really don't like being called Samantha, and I'm not a girl..."     
She ignored me totally, but her voice got a commanding edge on it as she repeated her request  "Would you just pose, like I asked, please!"     
Discretion being the better part of valor, I went along with her, sitting standing, smiling, as she took more snaps.
In a few short minutes she had some develop that pleased her.  She selected two and brought them over for me to see.  "Would you say these are a fairly good likeness?"  She asked.     
"I've never taken a very good photograph"  I offered  "but yes, these do look like me.  Now will you two tell me what's going on?"     
"Of course dear"  Margaret said.  "These pictures are like the.. the 'before'  you see in some of these ads.  Toni and I have decided to make you over.."     
"Make me over?"  I asked quickly.     
"Please stop interrupting!"  Toni interjected.  You asked a question.  Margaret's answering you, if you'll just give her half a chance."      
".. Make you over"  Margaret continued.  "You know.  Make you pretty.  Dress you in nice clothes.."      
"But you can't, I mean, you don't want.."  I started to protest as they advanced on me.     
"C'mon!"  Toni urged  "We don't have all day!"     
"But..But"  I protested feebly, trying to stop her and Margaret's hands as they reached, and then proceeded to start undressing me.
Gently, but firmly, I was forced back so that I was sitting on the bed, Toni working on unbuttoning my shirt, while Margaret was untying and removing my shoes and socks.  Both of them were humming a sort of soft song to me as they worked, happily engaged in removing my clothes.     
I shivered helplessly as Toni undid the front of my pants, and pulled my shirt free then, working from the back pulled it off altogether.     
"Cold, love?"  She asked gently  "here, slip your arms in here.  Not much, but it'll help a little.  C'mon now, there's a girl.."
Weakly I tried to resist, but she simply pushed a sort of black loop over my right arm, pulled it up a little, then forced my left arm in through a similar loop and pulled the bra up (for that's what it was), then fastened it at the back.     
"Oooh "  she cooed  "This fits just nice.  Doesn't it Margaret?"     
Margaret had stood up from removing my footwear.  She examined the fit of the bra to my body critically.
"Oh yes!"  She replied enthusiastically  "Looks like we picked the right size after all.  But let me adjust the straps a little"  and with that, she pulled gently on the straps.  I felt the garment fitting to me a little more snugly.
I wasn't prepared as, when she finished, she simply put her hands under my armpits and lifted my arms straight up.  As she did so, something else was fitted over them, then run down over my head to about my tummy - Toni must have been waiting for Margaret to position me, as it took less than a few seconds.  Looking down for an instant, I realized that I was now wearing a black, lace trimmed, nylon slip to match the bra.
Before I could react, I had been pulled to my feet, the slip pulled down until the black lace hem fell just short of my knees.  Margaret knelt down again and, with a quick tug, pulled my pants around my ankles.  Without even being told, I stepped out of them.     
"There's a good girl!"  Toni said happily.  "See Margaret.  Didn't I tell you that Samantha would be good?"     
"That you did Toni.  That you did.  I'd never have believed it.  But will she put her own panties on do you think?"     
And she was holding out a pair of matching black, satin, lacy panties to me!
"Can't I keep wearing my own underpants?"  I pleaded.     
Both girls giggled happily.     
"Oh, you silly goose!"  Margaret said  "Of course not!.  Now, if you put these on yourself, we won't have to embarrass you by doing it for you.  C'mon now.."     
And I took the panties from her, removed my underpants from under my slip, then, blushing in front of my tormentors, stepped into my panties.     
"So much easier when they cooperate, isn't it"  Toni said, advancing on me as I pulled my new undies up into place under my slip.  "Now.  Want to put this garter belt on by yourself too?  Or do you want Toni to do it for you?"
It took me a little while to figure it out, but finally the belt was fastened securely, and fitting snugly around my waist, the straps hanging, waiting for what was to be attached - which weren't long in coming, Margaret handing me a pair of gauzy, smokey dark stockings.  "Now"  she said  "You've seen Mary put on stockings lots of times, right?"     
I nodded.     
"Well just sit there and do the same thing - it's easy."     
And, with the two girls beaming their approval, I rolled the stockings on, one at a time, careful not to make any snags.  Shyly, I lifted the hem of the slip to get to the little 'snaps' on the garter belt, and fastened them to the top of the stockings.  When I was finished, eyes downcast, I re-arranged the hem of the slip back down to it's proper position.  Both girls applauded me lightly.
"Now Samantha."  Toni said, advancing on me   "We'll have to start getting your makeup on, but first, lets get your nails done.  While they're drying, you can try some shoes on - we weren't too sure of your size.."     
As she sat on the bed beside me, I meekly held my right hand to her, but couldn't help pleading one more time, even though I'd long given up hope. "Please Toni, please?  Do you have  to do this to me?  Everyone will laugh at me, when they see me dressed like a girl.  Please?"
"Oh you silly!"  She laughed, as she took my hand.  "Tell me"  she said, turning serious.  "Do they laugh at me or Margaret for wearing dresses?"     
"That's crazy!"  I remonstrated.  "Why should they?  - You're girls!"     
"You know  that for a fact?" She asked.  You've seen us naked?"     
"No. Of course not!"  I argued.     
"Well.  How do you know?  You really don't, do you?"     
"This is crazy"  I said, but I was conceding her point.     
"No!  I'll tell you what's crazy"  Margaret broke in.  "One man, in a whole bunch of women.  Doing women's work, for women - being treated like a girl, letting himself be called ... Saa.Maa.Nthaa, wearing aprons, headscarves, letting everyone laugh at him.. Having his wife threaten to spank him - in front of everybody - that's crazy!"
"Oh Margaret!"  Toni laughed  "Don't get so excited!  What she's trying to say"  she continued  "Is this.  We think you'll make a really pretty girl.  You've a nice figure, hardly any hair on your arms or legs.."
"Dreamy eyelashes!" Margaret broke in again.
Toni shook her head, dabbing something on my nails  "Yeah. Now just think.  If we're right, and you are pretty, are they gonna laugh then?"
"Yes"  I said firmly.  "I know they will - and what will Mary say?"

Margaret started to argue, but Toni held her hand up  "He's...She's probably right.  But it'll be more.. more .. teasing, if you know what I mean and, if you keep wearing dresses, skirts, and so on - a couple of days then you'll be Samantha.  Who's going to laugh at you then?"
"You mean.. You mean.. I've to keep dressing like .. A woman?" I uttered in total confusion.
"Of course, silly.  You'll need false nails, and a wig for a little while, but pretty soon we'll be able to set your own hair, and have proper manicures.  Just wait!  You'll love it.  Being a girl is a lot of fun - honest!"
She was starting to attach false nails to my own.  The glue she'd been spreading must have been very fast acting.  In seconds they were firmly in place.
"Just a little shaping"  she said calmly, "then we'll get some nice polish on there - it'll look lovely.  Just wait!"

I was totally confused.  What she said made sense, after a fashion.  Even short glimpses of my full reflection in the closet (mirrored) doors had shown that she wasn't altogether wrong - I was already being transformed into a 'passable' young lady - and that was without the benefit of makeup!
At the same time, I was watching scarlet polish being applied to my new, false, nails - and knew that if I didn't do something desperate, lipstick, rouge, etc., Would not be far behind.
"But what about Mary!  What's she going to say?"  I said, in a panic.

The girls looked at each other, and gave quiet sighs.  "Mary knows dear,  she knows"  Toni said quietly  "who'd you think paid for your new wardrobe?  Who do you think wants you to look and act like a girl?  Now c'mon now.  Try not to touch anything until your nails dry.  Let's see if we can find some shoes."
"But I thought that you two were my friends?"  I said helplessly.
"We are!  Honest!"  Toni said.  "But Mary was going to have you made over, one way or the other.  We found out about it - overheard her ask a coup[le of the tougher girls - but they turned her down.  We pretended like we would make it really humiliating for you, and she jumped at the chance of using us.  Now, would you rather have us - or another couple of girls that didn't like you?"
I nodded, seeing her point.

Still helpless against all the things that were happening - and the things I was finding out, I sat quietly as various shoes were fitted over my nylon-sheathed feet.  Margaret gave a small snort of satisfaction.  "These look like they'll do very well dear.  Why don't you stand and walk around a little?"
I did as she suggested.  The shoes were of a kind if brown suede with a sort of gold filigree worked around the upper.  They did have high heels, but not so extreme that I had any difficulty walking in them.  In actuality, they were quite comfortable, and I rather enjoyed the extra height they gave me.  I walked up and down the room a couple of times, gradually gaining more confidence with each step.

"Would you look at that?"  Margaret gushed.  "Walking like that, first time."  She looked at me, all of a sudden suspicious,  "You've never wore heels before?"
I blushed (with pleasure, really)  "No.  Honest, Margaret."
She believed me, I could see that.
"Hey.  Stop just a minute, stand still. I've got an idea."  Toni said.
I did so.  "Just lift the back hem of your slip up about six inches.  Use both hands"  she said.
"Like this?"  I asked.
"Yeah, perfect.  Now turn around, face the wall.  Keep your hem up now!"
Puzzled, I did so.
"Now.  Put your legs close together..Yes.. Good!  Gosh!, These heels really show your legs off Samantha.  I'd never realized how nice they were."
"Oh yes!... Lovely!"  Margaret agreed.  "Nice and straight."

"Ok"  Toni said, hitch your hem up a little higher.  That's right.  Now, bend over from the waist.. There's a girl!  Now.  Last thing.  Keep your body facing the same way as much as you can, but look over your shoulder, back at me, and give me a nice smile.. That's it!"

And a flash in my face, told me that I'd just been photographed in a classic cheesecake pose.  I was really embarrassed, but complimented too, as she took a few more shots, me - posing, smiling, undies showing, legs tautened by the high heels, gleaming in their nylon sheaths.

"Ok.  Ok!"  Margaret said.  "The polish has got to have dried by now.  Lets get started on the makeup.  Over here, Samantha, and sit down at the dressing table."
And, as I started towards the table, another embarrassment.  With the sensual feel of the nylon around my legs caressed by the lace at the bottom of my slip, all of a sudden I started to get a major erection.
"Oh oh!"  Said Toni, heading towards me, a grin on her face  "Beginning to really enjoy this, eh?"
And, with that, she flicked me sharply with a fingertip across the erection.  I couldn't believe it - it disappeared!
"Learned that trick from a nurse friend of mine."  She confided.  "Can't have you walking around with a bump like that showing, can we?"

Totally demolished, I sat where Margaret pointed, facing the mirror.
"About time for the build up?"  Toni asked.
"Yeah.  Think so."   Margaret said.  "Why don't you do it, while I'm checking these lipsticks?"
And Toni sidled up beside me, and proceeded to insert chiffon scarves into the cups of my brassiere.
"You look nice Samantha,"  she confided "But a girl does need something there - even if it's padding!"

I didn't have too much chance to see the results of her handiwork before Margaret was on me with the cosmetics - and I had to sit very still while she fussed around me.
"Close your eyes now"  she said, after a while.  "You can look when I'm finished."
Obediently, I closed my eyes.  She pulled gently on my hair with a comb, then I felt something like a skullcap being put on my head.
"Ok.  Turn away from the mirror now dear'"  she commanded gently  "and open your eyes again."

When I did, she was holding something, with a purple satin sheen in front of me.  "Now, just 'dive' into this love - both hands now!  - There, that's it!"
And something satin slid over my body and my arms, and my head came through, into the light again.  Still in a sort of stunned state, I watched Toni fasten buttons at the cuffs of the blouse I'd just put myself into, and felt the soft touch of Margaret's fingers as she fastened something  delicate at the back of my neck.
"No.  No!  Don't look yet!"  I heard Margaret.  "Just a few more minutes.  Just step into your skirt now.  Yeah, down here!"
And, down at the floor level, another 'loop' material was opening up invitingly in front of me.

"Atta girl!"  She encouraged me as I stepped into it, and stood passively by as it was pulled up, over my thighs.  I felt something 'zip' at my back, then the skirt waistband being cinched, and buttoned.  Something was placed on my head and then arranged gently.
"Here you go Samantha"  Toni said gently.  "Just turn here.  Yeah, that's it!"   And a silk scarf was placed around my neck, arranged deftly, then affixed with some sort of loop.  At the same time, Margaret was placing something around my hips, then fastening it.

And finally, they let me see myself.  A girl.   Short dark hair,  wine colored, long sleeved, silk blouse.  Purple suede skirt, fairly severe cut, falling to just below the knees - with a flash of black lace showing under the side vents.  A gold filigreed belt around the hips.  A paisley patterned silk scarf around the neck matching both the blouse and the skirt.  Full, plum colored lips.  Dark, shadowy eyes.  A hint of a blush at the cheeks.  Well defined, arching eyebrows.

Toni held up the polaroid snap she'd taken of me before they'd started.
"Now you're not gonna tell me that we haven't made an improvement?  Eh?"
Entranced, I couldn't speak  for a couple of seconds.  Then managed,  "I think I know now how the ugly duckling felt when she saw her reflection and knew she was a swan."
They both laughed.  "Here"  Toni added  "a little jewelry.  You'd be best though, getting your ears pierced as soon as you can - a lot more choices in pierced earrings - and not as sore on the ears."
"Ok"  I agreed readily, as she clipped a pair of facsimile gold-coin earrings on my lobes, and adjusted a topaz ring on my finger.

"Try walking around"  Margaret suggested.  "See how your clothes feel. Walk up and down the room a couple of times."
Eagerly, I followed her suggestion.  The sensations were incredible!  The straps of my bra and slip held me at the shoulder, while the silk of the scarf gently massaged the back of my neck.  Just down a little from that, the bra and top of the slip maintained a gentle pressure on my chest.
The satin of the blouse caressed my breasts, and especially the back of my upper arms.  I couldn't help flexing my arms inside the sleeves as I walked, to generate more of the beautiful friction.

The hem of the skirt fell just under my knees and hobbled me delightfully as I walked, forcing me into taking much smaller steps.  As the sensation of having my stockinged knees rub together as I walked was another indescribable feeling, and having to multiply that feeling because of the smaller steps was no hardship.
Without any planned thought, I pounced on Toni - she was the nearest - and gave her a huge hug.  "Thank you!  Oh thank you! This is fantastic!
"You're not mad at us then?"  Margaret asked.
"Oh no!  Oh no!"  I gushed, running and giving her a hug as well.  "How could I be?  Can we go now, and show Mary?"

A glance that I couldn't read flashed between them before they answered in agreement, but I thought I heard a wrong tone somewhere.  I was so delighted though in my new appearance that I paid it no heed.  As it turned out, there were about four different outfits that had been bought for me 'just in case' so, collecting them we made our way back down the hall.  Grinning, I knocked on the door softly.  Mary called out  "Yes?"

"It's me.  Samantha"  I called out happily.
The door opened and Mary stood there.  The mean, spiteful expression on her face confounded me to the extent that I couldn't speak.
"Well, well!"  She sneered.  "Lookit what our little pansy has been up to now.  Playing dress-up with the girls were we?  Well, why don't you parade your girlish little ass in here, and Mary will give it a good spanking, then we'll parade you around in front of all the other girls and...."

While she was speaking, the whole truth had become evident to me.
"You never did love me, did you?"  I asked quietly.
"Love?  You?  A little pansy like you?  I should have got a real man!"
"No way."  I said, my voice starting to firm up.  "You wouldn't know what to do with a real man. You needed somebody like me, because the only way you can enjoy a relationship is to demean and denigrate your partner..."

A look of doubt crossed her face, but was replaced with another sneer.
"And you're not denigrated now?  Standing there in women's clothes?  All made up?  Smelling so nice?"
My confidence was growing.  I smiled.  "No, stupid!  I'm standing here in  my clothes - and I'll tell you something else.."  I laughed happily  "I'm a damned sight better looking woman now than you ever were - or ever will be!"
And she knew it was true!  Her eyes finally saw me, not as some chastened wimp of an effeminate man - but (I hope) as a pretty, feminine, woman.
She licked her lips, and pulled the door open.
"Yeah... well.. why don't you come in...?"

"Forget it."  I said.  Turned to Toni and Margaret who were having a hard time hiding their grins.   "If I need to, could I bunk with you two until I find somewhere else?"
They nodded, so I turned back to Mary.
"I'm going to see Evelyn  - just the way I am.  If she'll keep me on as secretary, I'll be back after the meeting for some of my things - toothbrush, my half of the lottery winnings, and so on - but that'll be the first and last time I go into any room with you - you miserable, sad-assed, poor excuse for a woman!"

And I turned my back on her, and left - Margaret and Toni giggling behind me.  When we turned the corner, Toni spoke.  "Wow!  You could learn to be a real hellcat if you wanted, couldn't you?"
I blushed, and stepped back.  Linked arms with both of them, and shook my head as I fell into stride with them.
"No." I said thoughtfully.  "I don't think I could.  But the way I see it now?  I maybe didn't rate any respect as a man - but no-one's gonna treat a looker like me as if I’m a piece of garbage!"

"Yeah!" Toni said, giving me an enthusiastic high five.  And we walked towards my destiny.

                                                                        THE END

*     *     *
Now for a few bits by Rosie:


Slowly, I slipped from sleep into a daze of partial wakefulness, luxuriating in the soft caresses of the fabrics on my skin. Slowly, I became aware of myself and previous events. As so many times when left to my own devices, I had dressed up in my mother’s clothes and, this time, fell asleep on the couch while watching TV. Delighting in that realization, I stretched out, joyfully feeling the high heeled shoes bend my feet and thus strain my leg muscles, then succumbed to further slumber, wrapping myself tightly into my mother’s fur coat. I can’t say how long I have slept until a loud noise from a delivery truck across the street abruptly brought me to full wakefulness. I opened my eyes and surveyed my surroundings. I sat up on the couch, let my long hair fall down my shoulders and straightened out the tight black polyester mix skirt I was wearing. I noticed that the TV was off. I couldn’t remember switching it off, but that wasn’t the thing that disturbed me the most – I most certainly couldn’t remember taking out my mother’s fur coat, let alone covering myself with it. In fact, I was beginning to be sure I could distinctly remember mother putting on the same coat that morning as she went out. My head swirled with the realization of what had happened – my mother had been home and had seen me in her clothes!
Yet as I glanced at the clock on the wall, this became only one of my great concerns. It was almost half past four, when I was supposed to meet my mother and my girlfriend to lunch. As fast as my tight skirt and my high heels allowed, I ran upstairs to my room, only to find the doors locked. In disbelief, I must have tried three or four times before I even allowed the possibility that my mother had locked me out of my own room. Then, not wanting to loose any more time, I headed to my mother’s bedroom. Although I didn’t have a clear, final idea of what I’d do, I imagined I could compose an outfit unisex enough that at least my girlfriend wouldn’t know of my secret hobby. Though with my detailed knowledge of my mother’s wardrobe, I knew that unless I dressed in sneakers, jeans and a simple sweater – which my mother most probably wouldn’t look to kindly upon at the semi formal occasion that was about to happen – wearing a pair of ladies pants instead of a skirt in a feminine ensemble was as unisex as I’d get. Besides, the locked door to my bedroom was a message clear enough, which was only reinforced when I saw some new clothes laid out on my mother’s bed. Without giving it a second thought, I stripped of my floral print blouse and skirt. The blouse my mother had laid out for me was made of white silk, with slightly padded shoulders and cupped sleeves. The skirt had a very high waist – it reached practically to my ribcage – and was made out of a pale blue rustling fabric, as was the matching bolero jacket. My new shoes were white and had a significantly lower heel that the black ones I had put on in the morning. I took a look at myself in the full length mirror on the wall. Despite the circumstances, I was rather pleased with the outfit I was wearing. I even started posing for the mirror when I suddenly heard voices from downstairs – my mother and my girlfriend had arrived! Just in time for me to reapply my lipstick, in fact.


“It’s your own fault, honey,” I said to my frowning husband as I pulled my teddies on him, guiding his arms through the elastic straps, then adjusting the length of the straps.
“Yeah, right,” he said, finally breaking his long streak of silence.
“Don’t get all sarcastic with me again,” I warned him, “I only wanted one simple thing of you. All I wanted was to try out one small fantasy.”
I took a look at him – as miserable as he felt, my poor little hubby looked absolutely devorable, his body shaved smooth, wearing my white shiny pantyhose and my white satin teddies.
“All I wanted was for us to go to bed both wearing nylons,” I went on softly, rearranging the teddies at his crotch, “But no, you couldn’t humor me. It was too much to ask of my macho husband. So eventually, I had to challenge you to a fight. Or was it you who said ‘let’s wrestle for it’? Doesn’t matter, really.”
He twitched as I pulled on the crotch of the teddies, then let them snap back into place.
“You could have just put on the pantyhose then and there, even after I told you that if I win, you’d have to do more for me than just put on a pair of my nylons. I gave you a chance to back out gracefully, didn’t I?”
I challenged him with my eyes and he looked away.
“You had a choice of just putting on the pantyhose or going through the whole wrestling ordeal and then having to shave off your body hair, put on not only the pantyhose you had such a problem with in the first place, but teddies as well,” I continued, “So how can you be mad at me if you chose the second option yourself?”
I led him to the bed. For a moment I considered taking off the gauzy black peignoir that I had put on over my own teddies and pantyhose (although black, to contrast his white) and kicking off my black patent leather pumps that added another four inches to my advantage over his height, but then decided I’d keep both on. I sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled him into my lap. He struggled but as soon as I planted my lips on his and forced my tongue into his mouth, I felt him melt in my embrace. The sensation of our nylon clad legs rubbing together was driving me crazy, and it must have had a similar effect on him too.
“Isn’t this nice?” I asked, rubbing his smooth, slippery thighs.
He could but pant excitedly in response.
I continued to caress him like that for some more, then stopped.
“You know what?” I said, “There’s something missing here.”
“What?” he asked.
“Makeup,” I replied.
“You heard me,” I said, “It would be really nice if you were wearing some makeup right now.”
“Makeup?” he repeated weakly.
“Oh, nothing much,” I said reassuringly, “Just some blush, mascara. Maybe eyeshadow. Lipstick.”
“Lipstick?” he asked, even weaker than before.
“Yeah,” I said, standing up, “Let’s go.”
“No,” he complained, “You only said I’d have to wear…” he paused for a second, “This, if you won. You never said anything about makeup.”
“I know,” I replied matter of factly, “It has nothing to do with the pantyhose. I’m just asking you, that’s all.”
He didn’t verbalize his protests again, but he didn’t follow me to the vanity table either.
“Okay,” I said, “Let’s wrestle for it.”
A flash of fear appeared on his face.
“I don’t want to,” he said.
“Then you agree to put on makeup?” I asked.
“No, Danielle, please,” he begged. My heartbeat quickened as I felt him crumble.
“Tell you what, we’ll do a two out of three. Maybe I only got luck the last time,” I said, then though of something better, “Or – we’ll do it like that. We’ll wrestle three times, if you win at least once, then you don’t have to wear makeup. How’s that sound?”
I could see a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
“Okay,” he shrugged.
“Great,” I said, walked over to him, then lead him to the vanity table.
Obediently he sat down on the chair.
“But I thought you said – “ he began to protest as I powdered his face with the fluffy applicator, but I silenced him by placing my index finger across his lips. Only when I was finished and let him stand up did he speak again.
“I thought we’d wrestle first,” he said, unsurely licking his scarlet red lips.
“Tell you what,” I said, “You can cream it off if you win.”
We climbed onto the bed, got on our knees, locked our arms at each other’s shoulders. I made a mental note to try not to mess up his makeup too much.
“Ready?” I asked.
Fearfully, he nodded.
I took another look at his thin white arms. In my mind, I already put them inside billowing sleeves of my white silk blouse that I’d wrestle him into.


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