Definitely BACK!

First of all?  My many thanks to Suzi at dclem.  She stayed on my back just enough to have me try to post one more time.  Suggested that I change my browser to Firefox. At first there didn't seem to be a change - but there WAS a little more capability to post.  Then I tried Firefox again - and it improved my posting beyond recognition.  Thanks Luv!

Boy do I dislike programmers.  Don't get me wrong - they are indispensable to do a job that bored the hell out of me.  But they have absolutely no idea of how to work with the public, their scheduling sucks and their idea of staying within a budget is laughable.  (Before I retired, I was a system architect and managed a computer support group - so have some idea of what I'm talking about).

More and more, I see changes being made by programmers, with explanations being gibberish or non-existEnt.  Google e-mail. is a perfect example.  It has improved vastly since its inception, but at the beginning was awful.  Chrome's takeover of blogspot is another case in point.  I simply wish that those silly buggers would TEST what they're doing before they inflict the poor users.

But I'll get off my soapbox now and end this diatribe.  Thanks again, Suzi.

Remember how I made a deal for a missing story of mine some months back?  Looks like I have to do it again.  Seem to have lost a story of mine. "Home is Where the Hearth Is." Anybody that wants to send me a .doc version of this?  I'll give you a choice of any of my books (see my Smashwords library) as a swap.  First one to send me that story wins!

I'm not exactly trusting  Chrome yet, so don't want to get into any serials until I'm more positive that they won't screw me up again - so I think I'll try complete short stories again for a while.  One thing about publishing my books is that it's forced me to get more organized and I'm finding quite a few stories that I published in Bea;s TV Channel back in the early 90's - so even older readers of mine may come across a few surprises.

As I was doing, I'll add a few of Rosie's 'bits' at the end - so watch out for them.  But anyway?  Glad to be back!  Here's my story:  "Nanny'"  I hope that you enjoy it,

NANNY

By Bea

Many thanks to Rosie in skirts who gave me the basic concept for this story. Thank you luv.

"That was very nice."  Leslie said contentedly after Anne had cleared off most of the table between us and left the room.  She looked out through the window at the grounds.  "Lovely!" she sighed. "I always just love coming here!  So tranquil.  So peaceful!"

I smiled across the table at her.  "Like some coffee now Leslie?  Black if I remember?  I'll pour."

She gazed at me and dabbed her lips with her napkin. "That would be lovely Alan. Thanks."

She settled back as I poured.  I wasn't sure why she'd wanted to speak to me but being the principal lawyer for Muriel's estate I certainly wasn't going to decline.  She was an outspoken feminist and after Muriel's death I must admit that I'd done some prying to discover if there were any way I could replace her.  That hadn't happened.  I knew Muriel always took care of business, but I quickly found out that everything was tied up into Leslie's capable hands.  On top of that? I knew that I was a dilettante at business so soon settled back into a life of idleness and comfort.

"Very nice Alan," Leslie said after taking a sip of coffee. "But I suppose that I'd better get down to business."

"Oh drat!"  I said softly.  "I thought this was just a social call."

She smiled. "I love coming here dear.  But business is business." She opened up a leather brief case and extracted a folder.  Opened it and placed it on the table in front of her.

"You must be well aware that I am a feminist Alan – and I truthfully hope you don't mind.  I can't help but be happy about being the chosen conservator of a large estate when it is one of the most perfect examples of a matriarchy that I have ever seen, and if it shows at times?  You have my apologies in advance."  She took another sip of her coffee, her bright eyes smiling at me.  Looked at the folder again as if to remember what it contained, but I knew that the contents were memorized.

"You weren't poor when you married Muriel."  She continued. "But she was rich. Damned good at staying that way too.  Quite frankly dear?  She simply swallowed your estate and made it part of hers."  She looked at me with a quiet challenge in her eyes.

I felt uneasy.  Shrugged.  "I didn't mind.  Muriel was much more attuned to that sort of thing than I was."

She smiled.  "Yes.  She was, wasn't she?  But although her wishes were firmly established there are certain things that she wanted done for Angela her daughter that you should now approve.  I know that she's Muriel's daughter by a previous marriage, but her biological father just got killed – so you are now, without contest, Angela's ward.  At her age, she can't be expected to make decisions for herself."

I laughed. "Angela can take care of Angela I think.  Muriel made a point of educating her here at home and,"  I laughed again, "She's a chip off the old block. Very strong willed and smart from what I can see."

Leslie laughed with me. "That's been the problem.  It's taken me a little while to contact Miss Grimsby as she's been away on vacation – but she was Muriel's chosen nanny for Angela.  I've contacted her and she was free to accept our very generous terms."

"So, why ask me?" I said a little huffily. "Seems that I'm nowhere in this transaction.:

A small, evil, smile played over Leslie's mouth. "What you say is, unfortunately, true.  But it follows Muriel's stated wishes – and trust me.  It's practically unbreakable.  I'm here to tell you though that you are the only person in the world who could create problems in this regard – California law with regard to minors being what it is.  Muriel DID foresee something like this taking place though.  I don't quite know how to say this Alan – but it boils down to this.  You have a very comfortable lifestyle here  and she has  set you for life.  But there are two things that could jar your relationship with the estate – and I don't think you'd find reaction to behavior like that pleasant.  To be blunt?  I think that you'd find yourself impoverished."

I found myself drawing back at this barely concealed threat.  Leslie took another sip of coffee, her eyes fixed on me.

"The things are?"  I managed weakly to fill the silence.

"First, you will sign this paper here offering Miss Grimsby the position as Nanny to Angela.  Trust me.  It is ironclad. Once you sign it Miss Grimsby becomes a member of this household that you can NOT fire.  The cost of getting rid of her is prohibitive."

I shrugged my shoulders. "You had me worried there for a minute Leslie.  I'm not going to give you any problems with signing that.  You know I never interfered with Muriel's edicts.  Why should I start now? Can I have that paper and I'll sign it."

She smiled at me and slid the paper and a pen over.  I started to sign it.

"Aren't you going to read it?" She asked softly.

"Why?"  I asked, signing it and passing it over.

"Why not indeed?" she said, taking it and putting it in the folder.  Then she smiled at me. "As always Alan, you make life for me much easier than I thought. Miss Grimsby should be here very soon.  Maybe tomorrow."

I shrugged.  "I'll have Anne get a nice room ready for her."

"Wonderful.  Just do make it close to Angela's suite.  They should be close physically."

I nodded, then the thought struck me. "Leslie?  You said there were two things?"

She laughed and hit her forehead with the heel of her hand. "Old age!  It'll be the death of me yet!"  She then proceeded to tell me what the second thing was – and the consequences of me fighting it.  The look of enjoyment on her face grew as she went further into the explanation and my blood got colder. 

Finally I spoke. "Am I understanding this Leslie? Shortly, when Angela becomes ten yours old – TEN? She basically becomes in charge of this estate?"

Leslie smiled.  "Yes. As I said before, Muriel was a great believer in the power of a matriarchy and wanted to make sure that Angela would take her place.  She really didn't think that you'd try a power grab."  Here she smiled beatifically at me.  "She knew how peaceful you are, Alan.  Just wanted to make sure that any male influence you wanted would be curtailed.  Wants to make sure that you don't try and control Angela."

"Hmmm!  Sounds more like me being under Angela's control than the other way around," I grumbled.

"Yes.  It does.  Doesn't it?" she smiled.  "Angela couldn't get rid of you but could probably make your life quite unpleasant."

I didn't answer the smile.  Something else was bothering me. "Leslie? You always use lawyer terms – and you said that Muriel KNEW of my peaceful ways."  I blushed a little.  "Even if she told you – wouldn't that be hearsay?"

"It probably has some of these elements in it," she admitted. "But you see – she explains all this in her diaries."  Her evil smile returned.  "All about you as well."

I blushed even more as her words sunk in.  "Could I have those diaries Leslie?"

"No.  Afraid not. Muriel had other uses for them that I can't divulge right now."

She put her empty coffee cup down on the table and got up. Came around the table – and actually patted me on the head – as one would pat a pet.  "You'll be all right dear! You've just lived in a matriarchy for so long that you've forgotten what freedom is like. Now you live in a new matriarchy – just one with different mistresses. I'm sure you'll settle right in!"  She patted me again.  "SURE of it!  Just continue to be your own sweet peaceful self – and you'll get on with Miss Grimsby just fine!"

Miss Grimsby arrived a few days later and I breathed a sigh of relief. I don't know what I'd been expecting really, but this fresh faced woman was nothing to be scared of.  She WAS big, but I was getting used to this.  The fact that I'm small in stature is something I've got used to over the years – and Muriel had seemed to enjoy the company of big women.  Even to the extent that Ann our maid and Marge the cook were much taller and wider than me.  Miss Grimsby was no exception.  Probably about five ten and weighing about one hundred and sixty pounds she far out sized me.  Not fat by any means, but a vigorous healthy woman.

She settled in very quickly and Angela, who can be a handle, fell in love with her immediately.  As far as I could tell there was nothing warm and cuddly about the new Nanny.  When she spoke to Angela it was with kindness and love – but she expected to be obeyed – and she was.  She was just a servant like Ann and Marge I suppose – but right away they treated her like a superior.  Frankly, I was a little jealous of her.  They'd always been polite enough to me I suppose, but to her they were damn near subservient.  Friendly towards her which was what she seemingly wanted  – but only too willing to be at her beck and call.

Miss Grimsby, Angela, and I ate every night in the dining room. I had a secret objection to eating with a mere child, but she had been brought up to have an adult dinner and, by god, that's what she had.  And it wasn't too bad.  Little by little, I started to enjoy their company.  Even Angela wasn't too bad. She wasn't tiny – more like her mother and large, but I was bigger than her.  Not by much, granted, and her assurance and style always made her seem taller than she was – but she was just a ten year old girl.   I will admit that she'd fix her pale blue, almost colorless, eyes on me through her sandy ;ashes and make a comment or ask a question – and I could feel myself quail – just as I'd done with her mother.

I really don't know when it started that I knew I was no longer boss of the house.  I never had been when Muriel was alive, but after she'd died. Being the adult in charge had sort of left its mark on me.  But some time after Miss Grimsby's arrival, it dawned on me that the servants  doted on her more than me.  They also gave Angela her due – but the real boss was Miss Grimsby – followed by Angela.  Me?  They were polite enough I guess – but I barely counted if at all.  But as if that wasn't bad enough, I realized that Angela and her Nanny felt the same way!  There was nothing obvious of course, but it just seemed to be that if either of them asked me to do something?  It had better get done.

The start of my decline in importance may have begun the day of Leslie's visit – I don't know, it wasn't anything that could be pointed to. But I know that the real decline started one night at dinner.  Miss Grimsby turned to me. "Alan?  I was talking to Angela and know what?"

"What?" I asked pleasantly.

"We both agree that your company would liven her bed time!"

"What do you mean by that, huh?" I said, still smiling. "You girls spend time around nine-thirty settling Angela down to bed.  I can't see that you need a man around."

"On the contrary!" Miss Grimsby said. "She spends far too much of her time amongst women. Having you present would give her more experience of men."

"I don't mean to be presumptuous," I said. "But I don't think I reflect the male personality that is wanted.  I don't have that rough, tough, exterior that you probably want."

Miss Grimsby looked aghast. "But you're wrong Alan! You are much nicer than most men – but that is what I think Angela needs at this stage. A nice man!  A peaceful man! Someone who will show her the softer aspects of masculinity."

There was something insulting here but I couldn't put my finger on it.  I did, however, manage a grin. "I don't think that . ."

"Alan?"  Angela said quietly. "We're simply asking you to join us as something that will help Nanny in easing my approach to adulthood.  Are you refusing?"

Her tone was quiet and non threatening but I looked at those cold pale eyes and figured that there could possibly be a threat there. Suddenly remembered that this little girl might be making decisions on my future within a year or so. Now was no time to get her angry.

"Ha ha!  Of course not!" I replied.  "Anything I can do to help!"

She nodded.  "Good.  Be there after your shower.  Say nine thirty?"  And she turned her head in dismissal!

"I don't normally shower that early!" I said. Talking to the back of her head.

She turned back around to me slowly.  Fixed me with her cold eyes. "So?"

There was a pause before it dawned on me that this was all she was going to say. "No problem!  No problem at all!  I'll be there at nine thirty!" I babbled.

"Looking forward to that," she said slowly and stared at me until I lowered my eyes in shame.  I had just been firmly put in place – by a ten year old girl!  As I said, that point may have been the start of my downfall.

I had this strange feeling of nervousness as I approached Angela's door that night. I had found myself taking extra care with my appearance and I was in fresh pajamas and my paisley patterned silk gown.  Brown leather slippers.  I knocked.

"Come in," said Angela's voice and I found myself swallowing as I let myself into the bedroom.

I had never been there much and not at all since Miss Grimsby came. I did see some differences immediately.  Angela's bed was large and circular canopied overhead – a veritable Hollywood bed!  She reclined I guess you can say in a nest of pillows on top of a pink duvet.  She was in a very adult nightgown for such a young girl – though I said nothing of course.

"Well!  Don't you look nice!" Miss Grimsby said.  Looked at her watch.  "And almost on time too!"

I found myself stammering out an excuse, but she waved me away.

"Don't believe that! She's a bear for punctuality!" Angela said brightly.  "When we say a certain time?  That's what we mean."  Then she looked at her Nanny. "But no inspection?"

"Miss Grimsby laughed.  "Oh Angela!  He's an adult!"

Angela drew herself up. "You tell me that I'M an adult almost.  That's not fair if you don't!"

Miss Grimsby shrugged at me.  "Would you mind showing me your fingernails please?"

"Huh?"

"Please?  Angela wants things kept fair."

And I found myself – like a little kid, presenting myself for Miss Grimsby's inspection.  She didn't fool around either – and I was glad I'd scrubbed my fingernails.  She also checked the back of my neck – and asked if I'd brushed my teeth.  I was blushing and thoroughly chastened  by the time I was allowed to go pick up a chair and move it closer to the bed. The chair was heavy and I was having a bit of a struggle when Miss Grimsby stood beside me.  "Let me," she said gently. Then moved the chair to the desired position with no trouble.  Now I sat and joined the group.

Angela read a fairy story.  She was good and I joined Miss Grimsby in making a small applause.  Then Miss Grimsby read some sort of technical manual about the making of jewelry.  Frankly, it was over my head – but Angela asked some very discerning questions – which impressed me.

Then Miss Grimsby picked a book up from beside her chair. "You're new to our little group here and as Angela just loves historical Romances – I call them bodice-rippers – I thought it a good idea if you start off by reading a chapter each night. It puts her to sleep just nicely and I've started to think that her getting used to a soft male voice putting her into dreamland is a great idea."

"You think that me reading one of those things is good for her?" I asked although lightly.  I certainly wasn't going to start an argument.

"Of course.  Now if you'll just come and sit here to read?"

"Where?"

"On my lap.  That way we'll get started all together – and it strengthens her feelings that males can be non threatening."

"Ha ha!  I'm probably far too heavy for you!"

She stopped smiling.  "Alan?  Please!"

"She sometimes lets ME read from her lap," Angela said, a little jealously as I moved over to Miss Grimsby and settled myself softly down onto the lap underneath me..

"Angela? Please.  He's a newcomer to this group!"  Miss Grimsby said, settling underneath me and enfolding me.

I was immediately embarrassed when I started to read. The protagonist was a sweet young country girl who had been drawn into the gay social life in London.  Her name was Rebecca DeLongchamps – daughter of a Regency scoundrel who had left her alone as the guest of a rich roué. At the beginning, she is preparing for a grand ball – and I start in detail, describing my petticoats and dresses – how my benefactors daughter is having me try different cosmetics and such like.  I manage my way through the first chapter – hoping that I'm finished, but Angela sleepily asks for more – and Miss Grimsby agrees.

Dry mouthed, I start the new chapter – because something has been added to the mix. Miss Grimsby has slid her hand in between my robe and pajamas – and is stroking me softly.  I struggle, but she simply whispers in my ear to behave. I am then, reading a romantic story in which I am the heroine, struggling to keep my virtue, while in actuality soft but strong hands caress me nearer and nearer to climax.

"Please stop Miss Grimsby" I whisper. "Angela may hear!"

"But that's the idea Helen!" she whispers back and giggled a little.  "She may be asleep now but sub consciously, she's hearing a male being seduced.  Now?  Ask me for a kiss!  Just loud enough for her to hear if she's listening."  She stroked me to the point of insanity.

"Please may I have a kiss Miss Grimsby?" I ask finally.

"Not so formal dear.  You can call me Ma'am.  Just like Ann or Marge do."

"Can I have a kiss ma'am?"

As she kissed me forcefully, strong lips on my soft ones.  I came – all over my pajamas and robe.

 We sat there quietly for a time and then she put me aside, sitting on the bed. Then without asking, she stood up simply picked me up in her arms again and carried me to her room made me open the door for her, then carried me into her bed area and laid me down.  "Now dear?  Lay on your back so that you don't mess my sheets. I have a few questions I want to ask you."  She smiled down on me.

"A few questions?"

"Yes.  Did you like what I just did to you? I need to know.  The diary told me that you would – but I've never treated a sissy man before – and I want to treat you right."

She looked HUGE standing above me.  "Diary?" was all I managed though.

"It's probably a shame," she said. "But Muriel picked you with one thought in mind. A nice soft pliable male to help set Angela's mind."

"I'm not THAT pliable," I mumbled defensively.

Nanny shook her head.  "She wasn't into sex with little sissies too much.  That's why she got in the habit of taking you on her knees and wanking you.  I agreed with her method – but I'd never done it before until tonight.  That's why I'm asking. I want you to enjoy it too."

"You've read her diary?" I asked helplessly.

She smiled. "Of COURSE!  Very enjoyable they are too!  Muriel picked me because I feel the same wayas she – but this is the first time I've seen our ideas done practically!  Angela is being trained just right!  Soon I'll take you on my knees in front of her. I want her to see you enjoying yourself as I make you cum.  She's too young to get much out of it – but it's a good start.  Doesn't that make sense?"

"It matters what I think?" I asked bitterly.

She looked at me kindly.  "You're just mad because you're all wet and yucky.  But it makes sense."  She shrugged. "If you're made happy?  Angela learns the value of having a happy little male in tow. I mean, I'm not truly all into that yet – but the diaries point out the value of having a contented sissy under one's thumb.  I can see though that if you're unhappy?  Angela sees me treat you and learns the power a real woman can exert – which is all to the good.  Now?  Answer my question please Helen.  What did you like about being on my knee and what didn't you?"

I looked at her.  "You're all nuts!" I said. "And my name isn't Helen!"

She beamed! "That was my own idea! Muriel says that she used it once or twice – but I thought it might be very good at getting you into the proper frame of mind. After all, I can't really expect you to admit that I'm treating you like a little sissy – then addressing you as if you were a man, can I?  Now – my question please?"

She was nice enough but adamant.

"Very humiliating," I finally said through tight lips.

"Good!  Did you feel like a little child being asked to sit on my knees?"

"Yes."

"And didn't you think that being asked to read the part of a girl – putting on your petticoats and dresses was perfect?"

"Please don't do that again.  It was very embarrassing!" I heard the soft pleading in my voice.

"Silly thing!  It was perfect.  You have that whole book to finish! Now after this.  You're not going to argue when it's your turn, are you?  Going to pick up your book and climb up onto my knees and read in a soft little sissy voice?"  She sat down beside me.  Put a hand on my thigh and smiled down on me. "Would you like to go and get cleaned up now?  Or should I have some more practice on you first?"

With a form of horror, I saw my dressing robe rise at the front.

She patted me and smiled tenderly.  "See?  You liked it!   But after this?  You'll come to our little soirees at night time.  Then you'll climb onto my knee and read.  Okay?"

"Okay," I said without taking too much time as her hand was already moving on my thigh.

She was as good as her word – and I was as good as gold – as she put it. For the following week I appeared every night and went through the shame of being inspected – sometimes along with Angela. The routine didn't change a great deal although sometimes Angela would read from Nanny's lap – but I was always last. Miss Grimsby didn't masturbate me every time but often enough – and I wasn't sure that Angela was completely asleep every time.

On the surface things didn't alter much, but there were two important changes.  First of all was one that was caused by my behavior.  It sounds very weak kneed but I knew that Miss Grimsby was now my superior.  Couldn't help but treat her accordingly. She'd never ask for anything of me of course, but would smile most sweetly and thank me when I did little things for her.  Suddenly, Ann and Marge seemed to subconsciously see that I was now servile to her and welcomed me – as an equal – with acceptance.

The second thing – and I couldn't understand it at first – was that Angela was friendly to me.  For the very first time!  I was glad of this of course – but she made me nervous and I didn't altogether trust her – with good reason as it turned out.  She actually started referring to me as Rebecca – a joke based on my reading of course – but humiliating  given the feminine connotations behind it.  Both laughed as I blushed furiously the first time she did this – which naturally made her do it again.

And gradually I sank lower and lower in the hierarchy of the house.  One time I asked Ann to get something for me. She gave me a maternal grin and spoke softly. "I'm awfully busy just now Alan. You wouldn't mind getting it yourself would you?"

In my lowered status I could only smile weakly. "I guess that would be okay."

Horror of horrors! She actually came over to me and, as I stood transfixed, put an arm around my shoulders. "You're SO nice! Now on your way back, you pass the linen closet in the hall.  Could you bring me the embroidered table cover from it?  I'd appreciate it SO much!"

And the maid thanked me with a big hug when I did her errand for her!

I can't say what had been leading up to that, but it was another point. Somehow the word got around  - and it became commonplace for anyone in the house to ask me to do something for them. The most humiliating came when Leslie visited us again – although this time her business seemed to be more with Miss Grimsby and Angela than me.  We were all in the living area and Ann was serving us. Leslie asked her a question – how was she doing or something like that.  She started to answer, then smiled.  "Oh dear!  There's a plateful of biscuits I meant to bring."  She looked at me.  "Alan? I'm busy with Miss Leslie just now.  Will you go and bring it?"

And all the women stopped what they were doing and stared at me as I sat.  "Leslie smiled gently at me.  "I  hear that you've become most helpful around here? I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes.  That would be so nice of you to help Ann while she's talking to me!"

When I returned with the plate of biscuits, Ann was sitting down – still talking to Leslie. Angela looked up and, with a laugh, said.  "These look delicious Rebecca! Can I have one right now?"

And now, somehow, I had been inveigled into walking around the room, passing out biscuits to all the women – doing Ann's job while she actually took a biscuit!  Leslie naturally wanted to know why the term Rebecca had been used – and great merriment ensued as it was described how I'd come by that name – and my great good humor in taking it – while I stood there with a sickly grin on my face the women all shooting amused glances at each other.

With the increased friendship between Angela and myself I found that I was drawn more into her sphere of influence – was wanted to joining her and Miss Grimsby for shopping in the local town – and my opinion most eagerly sought on clothes for her. One time, Miss Grimsby had to go and see Leslie about something (She didn't seem to want me for anything) and I had to take the Nanny's place in the clothes stores – holding dresses up against myself for Angela's perusal. When she first indicated I should do that I tried to say that it wasn't my thing. The cold look I got from her was the first in a long time – but the REBECCA! She used on me quietly?  Clinched it.

In that same shop, she had me hold up a bunch of dresses against myself – more to teach me a lesson in obedience than anything else I think.  Then even the shop girls seemed to be giggling more than usual when I was made to hold up a russet satin evening dress – backless and with a very large bow at the backside – and I finally complained – mildly – again.  "I'm not sure about the color dear.  I don't think it would suit you  – and don't you think it may be too old for you?"

She grinned slightly.  "Me?  I was seeing how it would look on YOU!" I heard a muffled shriek of laughter coming from behind a rack as I blushed a fiery shade of red.

As if things weren't bad enough we seemed to be finished with this last shameful display but then Miss Grimsby appeared having finished with Leslie – and to pay the bill – it seemed that I wasn't to be trusted.

"Alan?" Angela giggled?  "Why don't you get that russet gown and show Nanny how it looks on you?"  Naturally, this appealed to the sales girls and one immediately ran to the rack where it had been put pack and headed for me with it in her arms, smiling at me invitingly.

I felt the insult rise in me. "I don't think so!"  I said coldly – although I did hear a  little tremor in my voice.  As I made this remark Angela looked daggers at me but whispered in Miss Grimsby's ears instead.  That lady sighed deeply and looked at me.  "Alan?  PLEASE? I know it's a lot to ask – but I sense that Miss Angela is getting a little upset with you – and let's face it.  It's not something you haven't done before, is it?"

Her calm reasoning brought me to my senses and I realized that I could have been on the point of making a ghastly error.   Angela smiled beatifically at me as I took the dress from the girl and held it up against myself.

"Walk towards us please?"  Angela suggested – ordered.  Then she added as I minced towards them "Don't you think that's his color Nanny?"

To my everlasting shame, Miss Grimsby took a few steps towards me and felt the material between her fingers.  But then she shook her head.  "I don't think so Angela. He needs something lighter." She looked steadfastly at me as she said it.

"There's a beautiful blue dress?"  Angela said hopefully.

"No dear!" she was told firmly.  "I think you've done enough shopping for one day.  Let's go."

They night, I was on Ma'am knees reading again. It may have been the long day shopping, but Angela was asleep before I'd got more than a few pages read.  Nanny shook me off and, not saying a word, motioned me to follow her – obviously not wanting to awaken Angela.

In her room she sat down, and motioned me to sit on her knees.  I wanted to – but it was so humiliating.  "I left the book back in Angela's room." I said.

"Helen?  Don’t get ME mad at you.  Sit here!"

"But I don't have anything to read," I said haltingly, settling into her arms.

"Silly little goose!  Can't you tell that I'm starting to like it?" She said this, her hand smoothly fitting around my erection.

But as I sighed and settled back she said.  "I wanted to talk to you anyway. Didn't you notice how Angela is growing - today in the store?"

"Can't say I noticed, to tell the truth," I answered honestly.  "She seems like the same size to me."

"I don't mean in physical growth, silly.  Don't you see her turning into the dominatrix we've been training her for?  I know that her mother would be thrilled – and Leslie will go out of her mind when I tell her about it."

"I don't understand," I said dumbly.

Miss Grimsby sighed though her hand continued to stroke me. "When she had you hold up that evening dress. Didn't you feel it then?"

"I just felt embarrassed," I admitted. "But how come you're so pleased?"

"Dear?  You obviously don't understand. When a female dominatrix gets a sissy male on her hands? She often dresses him up in women's clothes.  Angela came SO close to buying that dress for you."  She beamed proudly.  "All on her own too!  She's come SO far SO soon!"

I jerked – am not sure whether it was her hand on my erection or a kind of fear.  "Thank goodness she didn't." I said.  "Would have been an awful waste of money."

"Why a waste?" she paused in her stroking and asked seriously.

"I'll only go so far to placate her.  That's asking too much!  A dress?"

"You're talking nonsense dear. If Miss Angela wants you in a dress, I don't see you fighting her for long. She may want you in undies like panties and bra too, I'd imagine."

I stared at her in pure fear.  "But you don't want that?  Surely ma'am?"

She shrugged.  "It's good training for the young mistress, so I don't have a problem that way.  Also?  I'd bet that you'd feel so nice?"  She stroked me again.  "All soft and satiny under my hand?"

"Please don't!"  I wailed.

"Helen?  Just hush!  Matter of fact?  It might be a good idea for me to talk to Ann,  She's about your size and I'm sure she'll have a nice pair pf pajamas with a matching robe for you to wear tomorrow night,"

"But Miss Grimsby?  I don't . ."

She did something she'd never done before. Turned me over and as I lay there helpless on my tummy, she lifted my robe, pulled down my pajama pants – and gave me a sharp, sore, spank on the rectum!  Then she rearranged my clothes and put me back in my original position. "Honestly Helen?  Here I am, very pleased with Miss Angela's progress – and all you want to do is argue and find fault!  Now say that you're sorry!"

I found myself in the position of looking up at a much stronger female and nearly sobbing my apologies for making her spank me!  Treating ME as one of her charges!

"You going to be a good little sissy?  Do as you're told?" she said in a relenting tone.

"Yes," I said in a small voice.

"That's better.  You see?  This way she'll be much more pleased with you.  Sort of reading her mind before she makes you.  See what I mean?"

The following night after dinner, Ann slowed me down in the hallway. Gave me a grin as she put a hand on my arm. "I  think you'll like the nightwear Miss Grimsby asked me to look out for you.  I never used it but was keeping it for something nice.  She explained that this was all for Miss Angela – and I think it's very nice of you to do that for her."

I gave her a sickly grin and thanked her.

I saw what I was to wear that night, tastefully laid out on my bed, but was scared to touch it.  Maybe hoped that it would go away?  Maybe hoped that my long dormant masculinity would arise and let me find a way out of the ever increasing femininity that seemed to be surrounding, closing in, and enfolding me.

But when I came out of the shower and dried myself I saw a rather large box lying on the bathroom counter that I hadn't noticed before. Curiously, I took the lid off and immediately smelled the strongly perfumed pink powder that was there, even though it was still covered in plastic and had a large fluffy applicator there. I knew immediately what the box was doing there and this was reinforced when I read  the small folded note that lay there:

Marge and I thought you might want to use this as well?  Miss Grimsby thinks it a good idea too! A sort of finishing touch?

Ann

A picture of me in my new pajamas was difficult to imagine – but the thought of me not only in them, but being sent back to my room to powder myself was intolerable – because I knew that I would be made to do it if I didn't use the powder.  Slowly, I removed the plastic and used the applicator to powder myself.  Strangely, it didn't seem so difficult for the effeminate, sweetly smelling, young male to slip into his lacy blue satin pajamas and matching robe a few moments later.  There were velvet slippers in a plastic bag underneath the pajamas on the bed.  I put them on – a trifle large but okay. Then I wafted into the bathroom again, where I put the fine ribbons at my neck into an appropriate bow then brushed my hair.

"My My!  What do we have here?" Miss Grimsby said as she let me into Miss Angela's room.  "Why look here Miss Angela!  Isn't Alan pretty?"

"Alan?" Angela said as she couldn't see me at first. Then she let out a happy squeal. "Alan indeed Nanny!  You mean Rebecca – don't you?"  Then she spoke to me.  "All dressed up for my story tonight?"

"I – I – I  thought you  . .you . . might like this Angela?" I said with a ghastly smile.

"Well?  You did!" she said bossily. "Now come and sit on the bed beside me."

I looked helplessly at Miss Grimsby but she smiled approvingly and nodded.  Actually took me by the hand and led me to the bed.  "Doesn't his negligee float most becomingly?"  she said.  Then she added. "Why don't you get out from under your covers Angela.  I'll let you sit beside him for a little while if you want."

I looked at her with round eyes as Miss Angela squealed in happiness again then came and knelt closely to me.  "He smells SO pretty!" she said happily.  Then to my horror, she placed a small warm hand on my thigh. "Oooh lovely!" she grinned. "And feels so nice too."  Then she added.  "Is this what you do when he sits on your knee Nanny?"  "You are a naughty little girl!"  Miss Grimsby laughed.  "I thought you were asleep when I did that to him.  But yes, that's what I do."

"Please don't Angela?" I said.  "Little girls shouldn't do that!"

She looked confused for a moment. "Is Rebecca right, Nanny?  Is this bad?"

Miss Grimsby thought for a moment.  "It's a little fast for you dear so I have to tell you that it's a little too soon.  But when you're a bigger girl?  Then I suppose that it'll be time for you to learn that if you have a male sissy.  They become VERY obedient.  Like?  You could tell him to behave!  Stop arguing with you!"

"Hear that Rebecca? Be a good little sissy!" Angela said, and her hand spanked my thigh very lightly.

"Wheee!" she giggled.  "He feels funny! Just as if he was a girl!  What do I do now Nanny?"

"No time like the present I guess,"  Miss Grimsby said almost to herself then spoke to Angela. "Ask Rebecca if she belongs to you.  Just make sure that he admits that he belongs to you. After tonight – you'll see.  He will."

Then she simply sat beside me and put one arm around me.

And, now unable to move, I admitted to Angela that I was HER Rebecca as she laughingly whispered in my ear,  and would be most obedient to her in days to come. I cried in embarrassment.

"Sissy Rebecca!"  Angela taunted.

"That's natural Angela,"  Miss Grimsby explained, then she spoke to me. "I always liked Helen myself dear, but it looks as if your new mistress prefers you to be called Rebecca.  You don't have a problem with that – do you?  - Fine!" she said as I nodded.  "Why don't you go and change into something nicer."

I was about to ask what she was talking about when Angela whispered something into her ear.  She looked at me with a smile. "Told you.  Angela IS a fast learner."

"Yes Rebecca!"  Angela smiled.  "Go into my bathroom and take these clothes off.  In the meantime we'll call and see if Ann's got something else nicer for you to wear. Off you go!"  And she waved her hand regally.

For a split second, I must have thought of running and it probably showed on my face. "Don't be silly Rebecca?"  Miss Grimsby said.  "Where are you going to go?  What can you do?  Living here may be embarrassing for a little while because Miss Angela has to practice on dominating males - and you're available.   But you'll be well fed and clothed. So come on now.  Don't be silly."

She was so calm.  So reasonable.  Then she took a hold of my shoulder.  "Don't be getting Angela all upset now.  You don't want that.  Do you?"

I wadded up the pajamas and robe in the bathroom then wore the red lace long nightdress and scarlet peignoir out of there that was provided, blushing furiously.

I would have blushed under any circumstance, but this was different. Both Marge and Ann had joined the other two and now all four were clapping me as I emerged. I was so shy at this treatment that I wanted to go back and hide in the bathroom, but Miss Grimsby must have anticipated my reaction and put as arm around me and presented me to the maid and the cook. "We call him Rebecca now.  Think you can remember that?"

Marge looked at Ann, then at Miss Grimsby. "He never seemed that much of a man – even when Miss Muriel ruled the roost here.  I'd say that Rebecca as a name seems more appropriate somehow – wouldn't you Ann?"

Ann took in my appearance with a grin. "I just hope?" she said to Miss Grimsby. "That he has to clean the pajamas and negligees I've loaned him.  I don't think I'd like to wear them now."

"I think that's very fair? Don't you?" Miss Grimsby asked me. Then she continued.  "You see my dear? As far as I can gather, Leslie told you that you were in a matriarchy here.  Well it now seems that she was correct, doesn't it?"

I found myself plucking at my nightwear nervously.  "Well – yes.  But it's not my fault!"

"Of course it’s not your fault dear!" she said soothingly.  "But you do know what a matriarchy means – don't you?"

"The women are in charge?"

"See?  He's not just a pretty face!" she said to the others. "But Angela's the boss here.  Do you understand that?"

"Yes.  Kinda."

"And she's just a young girl.  Kinda feels strange if there's a man around.  You can understand that, huh?"

"But I don't have anywhere to go – and I've learned to do what she says.  I'm very obedient!" I wailed.

Miss Grimsby took me in her arms and embraced me.  "Exactly! Just like Ann and Marge and me – right?"

"Exactly!" I said softly and reasonably. "She's no reason to be mad at me."

"She's not mad at you – you silly little goose!   She just senses that you want to be happy.  Be one of us!  Now why don't you say a proper hello to Ann and Marge, huh?  Go on now.  Don't be shy!"  She released me and gave me a gentle push towards the two servants.  To my fright they were both smiling at me and holding out their arms in a welcoming gesture.

I didn't know what else to do. With Miss Grimsby and Angela looking on a wafted over to Ann and Marge.  I didn't know what to say, but it was a no brainer as they said.  "Hello Rebecca!" and took me into a communal hug so that I could feel their satin uniforms surround me. "Sit here amongst us!"  Ann said.  "And we'll make you pretty.  Won't that be fun?"

Angela and Miss Grimsby nodded amusedly.

For a little while Angela and her Nanny didn't pay too much attention to us three, just to make the occasional approving noise as my nails were painted, my eyebrows plucked, my ears pierced – and then made up with lots of cosmetics and perfume. Then my hair was put in rollers with a scarf around it.  Finally the servants seemed happy. Meekly, I stood between them as the three of us advanced on Angela.

"Miss Angela?"  They said in unison.  "Meet your new girl, Rebecca." Then they said to me.  "Curtsey to your new mistress Rebecca,  A little respect now!"

And everyone clapped delightedly as from somewhere inside me, I knew exactly what to do, and curtsied Miss Angela deeply.

Miss Grimsby teased me that night in bed, straddling me and playing a little with my rollers as she fitted herself around me.  "You were a little easier than I thought," she admitted.  "But I'm sure you'll make a good girl in the long run."

I was amazed the following morning when she helped me brush out my hair – but allowed me to wash off the makeup and not replenish it.  Of course my hairdo was girlish now – and my eyebrows and gold studs in my ears were on the girlish side.  The remnants of my perfume didn't help much either but I carried a little masculinity with me.  I'll admit to being a little put out when I was given a full serving apron after breakfast by Ann. "You'll have to wash out those pajamas you wore last night" she said.  "And while you're at it, Marge and I have some wash for you."

"Some wash?" I said helplessly.

"That's fair, is it not? She and I do things for you.  Isn't it time you did some things for us? Now put your apron on Rebecca – we don't want you getting your clothes all dirty, do we?"

Miss Grimsby and Angela passed me while I was getting the wash from the laundry.

"Ann and Marge felt I should help them?" I said weakly in explanation, nervously plucking at my white apron.

"Wonderful!"  Miss Grimsby said. "You're really learning the meaning of cooperation.  Isn't he Angela?"

"Maybe so – but these girls always curtsey to you or me when we talk to them.  Why doesn't Rebecca?" Angela answered.

"Well – that DOES make sense, does it not?" Miss Grimsby asked me. "Wouldn't hurt, would it?"

They both nodded as I curtsied, my white apron billowing about me.

But once I had finished with the laundry and a little ironing, I was released.  Then nothing seemed to happen all day.  Miss Grimsby and Angela went shopping, then called to say that they had decided to stay in town for the night and go out with Leslie.  Accordingly, I wouldn't be required.  So I spent the day like – well almost like – a male. It's true that Ann suggested I visit her in the maids lounge – my hair was coming out of its styling and knowing that Miss Angela liked it felt that I might want to get it freshened up?

It was a little strange sitting with the maids watching television as Ann rolled my hair up, but I wasn't made to feel lonely at all.  I discovered that they were very pleasant girls indeed. As a matter of fact they were so nice that I ended up staying for the evening. When I went to leave Ann said.  "Wait a minute Rebecca.  You forgot something this morning."

When I asked her what, she simply smiled and left the room for a minute. When she returned, she had the pajama and robe set – plus the crimson nightdress and peignoir. "These are yours now dear. Wear them in good health." She said, handing them to me.

I took them from her, but then tried to give them back. "But I .. well – I can't – I don't think . ." I stammered.

She smiled. "I can understand you dear – but didn't Miss Angela like you in them?"

"Well – yes.  But it was only for one night.  Just a trial."

"She said that, explicitly, to you?"

"Well – no.  Not exactly.  But I'm sure that  .. "

She pushed me gently on my way, the nightwear still in my hands. "Well – once she does?  We'll see then.  Okay?"

I didn't wear either of the feminine garments that night and went to bed in my male stuff.  In the following morning I suddenly looked at myself.  I had sat down in front of my dressing table mirror and was sleepily taking the rollers and pins from my hair.  The chiffon scarf that had held them in place was lying where I'd placed it on the dressing table, beside some pink plastic rollers that I'd already removed – when suddenly, I saw the rather effete face with the arced eyebrows, the gold studs still in my ears – and the scarlet oval nails that were busy getting my hair ready to brush out and my feminine surrounds.  For a moment, I felt I was looking at a woman.  Then I shook the ridiculous idea away. Angela was simply going through a phase and I was forced by circumstances into going along with her – but it was just for a little while.  Practically over by now with any luck.  I shook my head, sighed and went on carefully arranging my hair.  With a little start of horror I found myself  trying to rearrange a curl!

Angela and Miss Grimsby got home in the late morning.  Angela looked delightful in a pale blue checkered dress in some sort of satin, with a white apron of Broderie Anglais over it and white petticoats under her full skirts. Puffed sleeves. Little white Mary Jane shoes and a large flowing, blue satin ribbon to match her hair.  Her face was glowing and she was decidedly excited.  It seemed that she had got a little jealous of the girls that went to public school – had wanted a uniform – but not the same one every day.  On no!  I couldn't help but smile as she described all of the differing colors she had ended up ordering.  I gave them a hand to carry up a surprising amount of bags and packages. To be quite honest, she didn't notice my hair at first, but was delighted when she found out that I'd had Ann fix it a little the night before.  Actually gave me a quick kiss!

But lunch was due and I had the feeling that Ann and Marge wanted me to give a hand. Not much, you understand – but just to show that we were more friends than anything else now.  As I started to leave, Angela detained me. I'll admit that I was a bit nervous about not helping Ann or Marge – we WERE just at the beginning of a relationship you know as I tried to explain.  Angela smiled angelically – after her name – and said that she and Miss Grimsby had something for me.  She was very excited – and I smiled paternally. She WAS such a sweet little thing you know.  All she needed to get was her own way.  "I’ll tell them both that you can give them a hand later!" she said imperiously.  "Now why don’t you open your gifts?"

Suddenly I was aware that a LOT of the presents piled on the bed were for me and I stated getting a dread feeling as the two women smiled in anticipation as I started to open them – almost fainting as I saw the contents.  Miss Grimsby saw my mortification.  "Angela grew SO tired of being the only one underneath me," she said.

"Huh?" Was all I could manage.

Angela laughed in excitement.  "What do you call Nanny?" she asked me excitedly.

"Why.  Miss Grimsby most of the time, I guess," I answered.

"Well.  I want you to call her Nanny from now on!"

"Nanny?" I said, staring at the blue checkered dress that I was just opening up identical to hers.

"Yes!"  Angela said importantly.  "Nanny is bringing ME up to be a young lady.  Obviously you're far too old to be that.  But I figure that you can keep me company and pick up some of the things you'll need to know if you are to become a young lady.  So I've ordered uniforms for you to match mine. And I'm so glad to see your hair like that.  This way the ribbons will look just fine."

"I can't wear a dresson a daily basis," I said as my last show of masculinity.

"Of course you can Rebecca – now go and put on your uniform!" Nanny said severely.  "Then you and Angela can go downstairs together – hand in hand.  Now please?  I'll help you with your ribbon.  If you want to argue?  I'm sure that Miss Angela could use the practice of spanking naughty girls!"

Angela was a little put out that I had a padded bra under my dress and wanted one too. But Nanny just told her to think. Little girls her age didn't have a bra – and dresses for girls my age had the fronts built to take them – it had to be done for my dresses to look right.  I was made to take some advantage of my age as well – a little more makeup. Nanny wanted me in higher heels but Angela pointed out quite firmly that she didn't like me being taller than her as it was – so Mary Jane's it had to be.

Leslie visited us that afternoon, explaining that she'd been informed of what was going to be done to me.  She was absolutely thrilled and I couldn't understand some of the looks she gave me.  At dinnertime that night she thrilled everyone – well not me exactly – by a suggestion,

"If Rebecca's going to be taught how to be a proper woman?  Wouldn't it be a good idea to give her a job as a maid under Ann and Marge for a few days a week?  That way, she'll be trained in housekeeping – and how to be a personal maid for Angela when she grows up?"  And as Nanny and Angela raved about this idea, she gave me that look again.

EPOLOGUE

It's been a few years now. I've become an apt pupil of Nanny's and she's brought me up to being a young lady.  At the same time, Ann and Marge have been instrumental in teaching me how to run a house.  Sometimes I have to go into town as a guest of Leslie's. There, I'm generally used as a maid at one of her feminist shindigs – then introduced as "A perfect man".

I'm quite happy I suppose, although there is a fly in the ointment.  You see?  Nanny is a wonderful teacher and I'd hate to let her down by acting inappropriately.  Ann and Marge have taught me how to be a delightful personal maid – so that I'm 'loaned' to Leslie on nights when she visits and when I go into town.  It turned out that she has masculine tendencies – and ended up using me as her woman in bed when we're together.

So you see, I have three major responsibilities to fulfill.  Along with Angela, I'm a student of Nanny's.  As a housemaid, my behavior is under that of the other girls. Then I'm a combination of Personal maid and sex object for Leslie.  And I get 'rewarded' for being good if I do all right in these three areas.  I can't help but react to the training I get from Nanny – and very much want to do as she wants.  I'm just not positive that I want any more rewards – I now already have had treatments to completely remove all facial hair – not that I had that much to begin with.  I have permanent makeup lightly etched – lipstick, eyes, and cheeks.  My Adams apple has been shaved a little so that my voice is not masculine in any way now. My implanted breasts feel very 'real' according to Leslie – and I must admit that I've learned to take a certain amount of pride in them.  Actually misbehave by not wearing a bra all the time – they feel so nice rubbing against satin.

But I don't know that I want any more. You see corset training, diet, and special exercises  have given me close to an hourglass figure – but I think I'm due to go into surgery this week for hip augmentation.  And?  I sometimes hear all the women hold out the major surgery as a reward for me – if I keep behaving the way I've been trained to act.  Yet?  It's difficult to ignore Nanny's teachings.

But Nanny senses this I think.  Takes me on her knee and comforts me.  I still like that a lot.

 The end

AND NOW FOR ROSIE'S STUFF - YEAH!

XXXXXXXXXXXXX#34

Jennifer, my secretary, walked into my office and locked the door behind her. With a wanton look on her face she unbuttoned her jacket and started slowly walking towards me. Even though I knew it was inevitable, I still tried to stop it.

“Please stop, Jennifer,” I said from my desk with a weak sounding voice.

“Playing hard to get, Billy?” she said, “You know I don’t like it when you’re naughty.”

“Look, I’m really not in the mood…”

“Not in the mood?” she said, “We’ll soon fix that. Come over here.”

“Jennifer, please,” I begged.

“Come here!” she said commandingly. Knowing there was nothing else I could do, I got off my seat, walked around my desk and faced her.

She put her arms inside my jacket, slid it off my shoulders and threw it to the floor. As she proceeded to open my shirt, I desperately tried to stop her for one last time.

“Please,” I whispered, taking hold of her hands.

Aggravated, she painfully slapped my hands away and, breathing heavily, undid the top button of my shirt.

“What the – ?” Jennifer said as my white lingerie – a lacy camisole and a satin bra underneath – came into her view.

Hurriedly, she pushed my shirt behind my shoulders, effectively tying my hands with it, then unbuckled my belt and pulled down my pants, further revealing the panties, lacy suspender belt and nylon stockings I was wearing.

“What’s this?” she demanded to know.

“Amanda made me wear them,” I said, nearly crying.

“Oh?” Jennifer said, mockingly, “She likes that sort of things.”

”No,” I said, “She suspected I was having an affair. She said I’d be less likely to fool around with other women if I wore women’s underwear.”

Jennifer’s throaty laugh shook the office.

“Oh, dear,” she wheezed after she had calmed down somewhat, “That’s the best one so far. She really thinks that you’re the one who goes around seducing me? That because you’re wearing a pretty bra you won’t want to have sex with me? She really thinks that what you want matters at all? Your shirt, pants, shoes – take them off!”

Moments later, I stood before her, trembling in my wife’s lingerie.

“Hand me the phone,” she said.

As I recognized my wife’s phone number that was being dialed, tears began to trickle down my cheeks.

“Amanda?” my secretary said, “Hello, this is Jennifer. Oh, is that so? Well, I’m terribly sorry to bother you, but I believe we need your help. You see… Well, let me put it like that – guess who I’ve got standing here beside me wearing the lingerie set your husband had me buy for you for your anniversary. Don’t worry, I’m not offended by seeing you pass it on to someone else, I’m calling for another reason. You see, it’s kind of chilly here in the office, and I wouldn’t want the poor dear to catch a cold. You think you could swing by with a dress or such? Really? Oh, that would be just great. Thanks, nice talking to you too.”

She put the phone down and left the office. Moments later, she came back with her handbag and sat down on a chair.

“Over here, Billy,” she said, patting her lap. Obediently, I walked over to her and sat down across her thighs.

She took out her lipstick, opened the tube, screwed it until the bright red tip protruded from the housing.

“Pout your lips now, honey,” she said, “Your wife will be here any minute. Gotta look pretty for her.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX#35

Having put on the clothes Samantha had left on the bed, I walked out of the room to face Alison. I was worried, but on the other hand confident that Alison would, as she had so many times before, find a solution to alleviate the troubles Samantha was putting me through.

“I can’t go out like that,” I almost cried when I faced her, spreading out my arms to demonstrate the femininity of the blouse I had to put on. Not only it was distinctly feminine, with billowing sleeves flowing down to the pear-button cuffs, but the silky fabric it was made of was translucent enough to afford a clear view of the lacy lingerie I was wearing underneath.

Alison sighed and shook her head.

“Can’t you help me?” I begged, with a weak, almost girlish voice.

“She did leave you a jacket, I think,” she said, “Two in fact.”

A wave of relief flushed over me – a jacket was just what I needed to hide the women’s clothes I was wearing and except between us three, I would still retain my male status for another day.

“Two jackets, in fact,” Alison continued, “A black one and a lime green one.”

“I think I’ll take the black one,” I said.

“Let me at least show you the green one first,” she said, “I think you’ll like it better.”

Without waiting for my response, she went to her own room and came back holding a jacket made of lime green grosgrain.

I realized that the groan I made in response was a mistake as her face darkened considerably.

“Look, I know it’s all light and shiny as you’re going to say,” she said, with a lot less patience in her voice, “But it’s not even tailored and it may be even long enough to cover the top of your pants.”

Without thinking, I reached to feel top button and zipper of my back zipping, white pants. Even though the jacket would take care of that, as well as my frilly blouse, it seemed that it would merely replace one problem with another rather than solve it. Not only could it hardly be taken for a piece of even the most extravagant men’s wardrobe, it’s light color automatically attracted attention to itself and thus the wearer – something I wanted to avoid at all costs.

“Thanks, Alison, but I’d really prefer the black one,” I said.

“Suit yourself,” she said, turned on her heel and stomped off to her room again.

“Put this on,” she said, throwing me a black woolen garment.

The feel of the material was a bit softer and fuzzier one would expect from a men’s jacket, but the plain black color soothed me and I placated myself with the thought that no one would bother looking up close. However, my satisfaction was short lived. As soon as I began putting the jacket on, I realized that not only that the sleeves were more than slightly cupped at the shoulders, they were also short. The wide, gauzy sleeves of my feminine blouse were fully exposed! With the jacket failing at its most important function – hiding the clothes underneath it, I hardly bothered to notice how it neatly fitted my corseted waist, pronouncing the hourglass figure.

“I think I’ll take the green one after all,” I almost whispered.

Alison drew a deep breath and shot me a look that made me cringe with fear. I’d never seen her like that. But, with lips almost white, she managed a calm response.

“I though you said you didn’t like it,” she all but hissed.

“But, Alison, please,” I pleaded, “I can’t go out like that.”

“Well the offer’s no longer on the table,” she said – was that a mean streak I detected in her voice? – “Either wear the black one or don’t wear a jacket at all.”

“Or,” she continued with a kinder tone, “You can always put on a skirt, some makeup, and no one will guess you’re a guy.”

“But… but…” I began.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” she erupted with a force that I would hardly expect from Samantha, let alone from her, as she was always the kinder of the two. Every time Samantha had pushed my feminization further, I could count on Alison to help me push back, find loopholes in Samantha’s orders to help me remain looking like a man.

“It’s over, Jeremy, can’t you get it through your thick head?” she yelled, “Look at you! How can you possibly think you can still go on looking like a man when you’re asking me for a goddamn ladies’ jacket to cover what – a ladies’ blouse? Even if you wore a men’s jacket, you’re still wearing women’s pants. I mean just look at them – the legs end like blouse sleeves, with buttons and all, for crying out loud. How can you possibly think that anyone in their right mind would think these are men’s pants?”

I looked down to my feet. What she had just said made perfect sense. The cuff-like legs of my pants were anything but men’s, not even unisex, and even though they didn’t end much above my ankles, between them and my ladies’ flat heeled loafers, enough of my shiny nylon hose was exposed not to be non-notable.

“I’ve tried to help you as long as I could,” she continued, again in her calm, even kind voice, “But didn’t I tell you at the beginning I can only help you so much if you don’t stand up to Samantha yourself. I don’t know how much you really tried fighting her, but it’s clear she’s the stronger one between you two. I mean, she’ll get what she wants, can’t you see?”

In all honesty, I never really tried to fight my wife. If Alison wasn’t there to help me, I probably would have tried standing up to Samantha, but as Alison had said, she was stronger than me.

“I know it must be hard for you to accept, Jeremy, but it’s over,” Alison said, “She’s won. Maybe not this very moment, but she will, soon. Now you can either give in to what she wants from you, or you can go on pretending you’re still a man for the whatever little time you have left. But please don’t tell me you even dare to hope you can stand up to her now. It’s too late, I can’t help you any more with that. If she wants you to be her wife, then a wife you’ll be. You have to see you can’t do anything about that. All you can do is save yourself a great deal of embarrassment.”

Subconsciously, I suppose, I must have known it would come to that. That was why, probably, the emotion I felt was not a shock, not pain from the final blow to my male ego, but relief, even happiness that the charade I had desperately pushed to its very limit could now end. I walked back to the bedroom, unbuttoning my pants even as I walked. The fact that I only had to take off my pants and my shoes in order to shed the ineffective illusion of being a man was my final proof how ridiculous my efforts to remain looking like a man had become.

I reappeared before Alison wearing a black knee length skirt made of satin with a chiffon overlay and a pair of black pumps with a three inch heel. I decided to keep the jacket as a sign of my recognition of the irony that a garment that was supposed to help me look like a man would work so well as a part of my feminine outfit.

“You look cute,” Alison said, “The heels really show off your legs.”

“Thanks,” I said softly, “But I don’t know what to do with the makeup.”

“Don’t worry,” she laughed, “That’s something I can really help you with.”