Sunday, June 10, 2012

Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa

It wasn't until Monday last week that I remembered that I hadn't done my normal weekly post.  There's all sorts of excuses I suppose, but being retired?  One day tends to blur into the next.  I did retire early - but have been retired for quite a while - so that makes me pretty ancient.  On top of that?  I'm tending to run out of things worth talking about.  On top of THAT?  The question that Carrie put to me a few weeks back has been bugging the hell out of me.  I don't KNOW why there are so many male submissives - and so few dominant females - I have my thoughts on the matter, but they are probably on the wordy side - so as well as provide my normal story - and Rosie's  'bits' - I have the feeling that today's post may end up being rather long.

To complicate matters, the men tennis finals of the French open is just about to begin - and I have been a tennis nut for many years, so my input here will tend to be patchy.

Now a few hours later.  Rain delay. I thought Djokovic would win it - but Nadal is just too good up to now.

To get back to why I think there's a major discrepancy between the amount of male submissives and the same amount of female dominants?  First, I think you should prove that there should be an equal amount of both types - and I think that there should.  Here's my reasoning.

Take males first. I should state first, that I'm talking about Caucasian males.  Semitic and Asian males have entirely different ideas of masculinity, of which I know nothing.  If I graph out males on a basis of masculinity, femininity, they'll form a bell shaped curve - right? 

Now, there's no question in my mind that the most masculine male is more masculine than any female.  At the same time, a more feminine woman is more feminine than any male. When you graph the women on the same basis  of masculine / feminine, you'll again have a bell shaped curve.

Now, put both graphs together and I think that ANYONE must admit that there are women who are more masculine than some men.  Right?  So, there must be an overlap of the two curves - AND?  That overlap indicates that the same percentage of women are dominants as versus the same percentage of men who are submissive.  (I think that the amounts of male / females are different.  I just don't know what they are. Face it - there's a helluva lot more elder women than there are elderly men - but where you should see a LOT more dominant females amongst the elderly?  You don't).

Now I go back to my own experiences.  Like I admit, I've been in the closet for many years.  At the same time though, with my writing, I've corresponded with many transvestites.  Acted as a consultant in transvestite / spouse forums.  Actively participated in Mrs. Silk's Chat rooms. In every case, I found that Carrie's question is valid.  Where in hell's name ARE all of those dommes?

I've come to the conclusion that the answer to this must be social.  Let's face it.  Most of us are in the closet.  Why? 

The answer to this, for us, must be that it's shameful to be "less masculine than society expects".  So, as I can only guess that as women face the same society - and expectations - they don't want to admit being "more masculine than society expects".  So?  You have a whole mess of people deep in the closet and they don't want to come out.  Now add the 'fact'(?) that the male of the species has a stronger sexual drive, and this could be an indication of why we have seemingly a lot more visible male submissives than female dominants.

Now I don't expect a lot of agreement on this point - but will somebody please say SOMETHING?

 Well, the game re-started and my choice has come from being dominated to being right back in the game.  Naturally - there's now another rain delay, so I'll try and finish this mess up!

After all my bitching, I should add.   Thank you for contributing something to this blog, Belinda. I really do appreciate it.

Most of my readers have probably read the following story - but if you haven't read it?  Here's hoping that you enjoy it,

by Bea

Much to my mother's disgust, I dropped out of college in my senior year.  One year later she was even more disgusted by the fact that I was still unemployed and, as she put it, still "sponging" off of her.  That's what she said. In all truth, I'm sure that by that time she didn't mind.  As  she had always hated any kind of housework, the fact that I got to doing it pacified her more than somewhat.  As I had also become a more than
passable chef, she found it more and more acceptable - she just likes to complain is all.  I even think she enjoyed complaining about my pony-tail hairdo - the source of most of our arguments.

With her being a relatively successful real estate broker, we lived in a modernized farm house that she'd bought and restored while I was at college.  We were about a twenty minute ride to town which we both enjoyed. Her because it gave her time enough to think about her work while driving there, but not long enough to bore her.  I enjoyed it because it was far enough out that I didn't have to put up with a bunch of door-to-door salesmen, etc.

We both enjoyed the house itself. Both for the same reason - the quietness and the privacy.  As she explained "It may be a little too secluded for my type of business, but I sure love to relax here".  I had another little
perk though - the fact that business took her away quite often, and I had the house to myself.

I will admit that mother and I couldn't be more dissimilar.  She's a large, outgoing woman, very much into people.  Loves to joke around, and thoroughly enjoys a glass or two of Jack Daniels when she gets in at
night.  On the other hand, I'm slightly built, can't interact with people to save my life - somewhat scared of the opposite sex - do like a joke - but forget it minutes later.  Two small glasses of wine and I'm flying.  Have
a very strong tendency towards being a couch potato if you want to know the truth.

Have you ever noticed how a small incident can put your life onto a different path?.  Mother got into a minor car accident.  Mother was not wearing a safety belt.  Mother did break her right ankle - as well as
badly sprain her left wrist.  Mother then proceeded to make the next few weeks of my life a living hell.  This she did by having me drive her everywhere.  This not only disturbed my routine, her constant criticisms of my driving drove me batty.  Mind you, I'm the first to admit that I'm not a good driver - I get too nervous, but her constantly shaking head, her pursed lips, and her right foot constantly trying to brake - while on the passenger side yet, only managed to make me nervous.

For years she had been bugging me about the lack of a girlfriend in my life.  I kept pointing out that I was friendly with two of the young ladies that worked in her office.  She'd snort that they seemed like 'friends' not girlfriends - and I was never going to start making grandchildren for her, carrying on the way I was doing.  I was totally embarrassed by her frankness in this subject and generally avoided it whenever I could.  Finally, I guess, she got fed up waiting and made a date for me.

I was furious.  Came close to disobeying her.  She got the look on her face though that I knew meant a lot of trouble for me, so I caved in and agreed to meet the young lady she'd picked for me.  "You'll like her."  I was told.  "Just moved into the area.  I helped her rent her house a few months ago. Just found out that I knew her mother in college.  One of the sweetest, gentlest girls I ever knew.  If Linda - that's the girl's name, is anything like her mother, I'm pretty sure you'll like her."

I was nervous of the upcoming meeting with this young woman, but this description helped assuage my fears.  She sounded like maybe someone I could be friendly with - after all, you can't have too many friends, can you?

It had been arranged that she'd come and pick me up at the house.  Mother had explained that I'd been doing a lot of driving recently and was fed up looking at the steering wheel of a car.  "No sense in letting the girl find out what a lousy driver you are."  she explained.

It had started raining, but slightly, by the time that Linda came to pick me up.  I saw a red Chevy convertible - one of the old ones, with the sort of white scallop down the side, pull into the driveway in front of the house.

The girl who jumped out of the car didn't look like she was the 'gentle' type.  Leather jacket, red scarf over dark short, wavy, hair.  Blue jeans.  Looked like cowboy boots.  Gave the car a bad tempered kick, then did something.  The convertible top, lurched up and into place.  She seemed to spend a lot of time setting the locks that located it. As she walked up to the door, I could see her pull the scarf off her head and shake the rain from it with a bad tempered shake.  Nervously, I decided to let mummy answer the door.

I could hear a sort of muttering in the hall, and they came in together, laughing about something.  Right away, I knew this girl was no shrinking violet.  Confident in her walk and posture, very little makeup.  Nice, but firm, mouth.   Small nose.  Dark full eyebrows over brown eyes.  Physically, about the same as myself - a little taller in her boots.  A firm grip when she shook my hand at mother's introduction.
"Anderson?"  She asked.  "A kind of unusual first name, isn't it?"  She asked me.  I started to blush.
"Oh yes!"  Mother answerd quickly for me. "Been an Anderson in the family for a long time - but if he doesn't get a move on, he'll be the last."
I blushed again, as Linda laughed.

"A lot of my friends call me Andy"  I volunteered quietly.
A surprised look came over Linda's face.  "Amazing!"  She said.  "I was wondering when I'd meet my newest Annie."  She turned to my mother.  "This is fantastic!  I've never, ever, in my life not lived anywhere where I didn't have a friend called Annie - I sorta look on them as being good luck.."
"Andy!"  I said, as forcefully as I could.  "Andy!"
She lookd startled for a minute, but then grinned an apology.  "I'm sorry"  she said contritely  "but you do have a very soft voice you know.  I could have sworn you said 'Annie'"

Mummy looked down into the drink she was carrying in her hand.  "Sometimes.."  She started to say something, but caught herself in time.  Looked up.  "That's a helluva car you've got there.  Had it long?"
Linda beamed.  "Yeh!"  That's my pride and joy."  She turned to include me in her next comment, which was something about valves or cams, or something like that.  Mother shook her head.  "Don't talk cars to him.  Sees them as being things to get him from point 'a' to 'b', that's all."
Linda shrugged, and turned her attention back to mummy. "I'm having some problems with the top.  Keeps coming down at the worst times.  A real pain in the ass, I'll tell you.."
"Isn't that dangerous?"  I asked nervously.
She grinned.  "Nah!  Nothing to worry about.  It makes enough racket when it starts to misbehave that I have enough time to stop the car and get it back up without any problem..."
"Maybe we should call the date off?"  I queried.
She gave me a strange look.  "If you want."  She replied matter-of-factly  "But there's no problem, honest.."

Mummy snorted  "You're  not calling this date off Andy.  Just remember to be here in plenty of time to drive me to the airport tomorow."  She turned to Linda. "Got a trip I've got to make, so just make sure you have him home in plenty of time.."  She looked out the window.  "And it looks as if you'd better get going.  It's getting darker by the minute - we might be in for some heavy rain."

We left hurriedly, Linda opening the car door for me.  I was having a problem opening it, so she came to my side, and opened it with hardly any effort at all.  "Has a tendency to stick."  She said.

She took me to a restaurant on the other side of town, only a couple of miles from where she lived.  Under the amused grins of the female valet parking attendant, I was let out of the car door by Linda.  I felt as if I were being protected by her.  It was a strange feeling, but sort of enjoyable.  I noticed that the rain had got appreciably harder when we left the shelter of the car.

The restaurant was anything but busy, and was quite dark inside.  Nevertheless, a few of the waitresses seemed to recognize Linda, shooting shy smiles at her as we were shown to our table.  She didn't seem to notice them though.

It became almost immediately apparent that I was Linda's date - not the other way around.  She was very attentive to me - pulling out my chair, making sure that I got the menu that had no prices, being very solicitous of what I should eat and drink - finally taking over completely and ordering the meal for both of us.  She ordered a glass of blush for my before-dinner drink, and a Jack Daniels for her own.  She was certainly not shy around the waitresses, asking questions about the menu, recommendations etc., But they didn't seem to mind at all, fluttering about and being very, very helpful.

I suppose I should have minded, but I was used to being in the presence of a strong woman - even though this one was a lot more attentive to me and anything I had to say than mummy ever was.  Not that I actually said much.  
She had had such an interesting life.  Only four years older than me, she had graduated early - magna cum laude no less, had actually started her own businesses a couple of times - "Lost my ass the first one, but haven't done bad since.."  she admitted, taking an appreciative sip of her drink as she did so.  She had also crewed on an Alaska - Hawaii boat race.  Some of the stories she told made me shiver - I would never dream of doing that kind of thing.  I've no memory for what we ate, I was so entranced by this new force in my life.  When her toes started stroking my leg under the table I was taken aback.  This was not, actually, my first ever date - but she was the first companion I'd ever been with that made the advances.  I couldn't help it.  I looked up at her and smiled shyly.
"Did you know you're blushing?"  She teased, leaning back in her chair a little, her toe now working it's way up to stroke my inner thigh.

I squirmed happily.  I hadn't been aware that I had been blushing, but now I could feel the heat rise in my face. I didn't answer.
"It's so cute!"  She whispered to me.  "Almost pretty."
I blushed even more.  She laughed, and put her hands over my right hand that I had lying on top of the table.  "I'm sure you and I will be the best of friends Annie.  Don't you think.."

Before I could react to her calling me Annie, she reacted for me - "Oh my god!  Did you hear what I called.. Oh!  I'm so sorry!  Please forgive me?"
She was obviously so sorry that I just shrugged it off.  She started talking again.  Sure enough, a few minutes later she called me Annie again - and with the same reaction.  Again, I accepted her apologies in good grace.

I had had a couple of glases of wine by this time and was feeling very flushed.  Totally captivated by her stories, the interruptions caused by all these apologies were distracting me from what she was saying.  Finally, about the fifth time, I waved my hand at her.  "Linda?  It's OK  I'm not offended.  You don't need to apologise all the time - honest."

She looked at me, astonishment all over her face.  "You don't mind being called by a girl's name?"
I hastened to correct any wrong impression.  "Well, normally I would, of course, but you did say to mummy that you'd had friends called Annie all your life.  I understand."
She put her hands over mine again.  "You're so sweet!  So understanding!   Just like the others!"

And I was Annie from then on, for a while at least - even in front of the waitress.  She was a pretty young thing.  Pert and with a bounce to her step.  She kept flashing glances at us.  Linda finally saw her.  "That young girl has a crush on you, I think.  Isn't it nice to see them at that age?  She's very pretty.  I'm getting quite jealous, I think.  Let's do something with her." And she made some suggestions.

I wasn't so sure that the glances were directed at me, but blushed some more at this indirect praise.  My mind really wasn't on what Linda was asking me to do then, so I went along with her.  When the girl next came by our table to check if we needed anything, Linda spoke up.  "My friend Annie here, was wondering about your uniform.  Does the company supply them for you, do you have to buy them, what are they made of?  That sort of thing?"

And, with Linda looking on, the girl answered all of these questions and more.  Had me feel the materials of the outer apron, the skirt, the blouse.  Showed me how well the hems were sewn in, had me crush the fabric of the skirt to check it's resiliency, and check the lace on the hem of the petticoat.
And it struck me - I was just another girl to her.  Naturally, I'd be interested in all the things she was telling me - while she was flirting with Linda!  Finally, I had to get away.
"Where are the restrooms please?"  I asked.  I actually thought for a minute that she wasn't about to let me go, but she remembered where she was.
"Along that hall there.  Second on the right." 
I thanked her and started across the floor.  Heard Linda behind me.
"Anne?  She made a mistake.  That's the ladies she's sent you to."
I was incensed.  I had now gone from 'Annie' - which at least sounded like my name, to 'Anne' a most definite female name. I was too scared to take Linda up in it, so sent an indignant look back to the waitress instead.  She put a false smile of apology on her face.
"I'm so sorry ... Sir.  Don't know what I could have been thinking of.."  And she stared a challenge at me until I looked down!
"Oh.  That's OK"  I mumbled.

But, in the washrooms, the sound of the rain was now distinct, lashing against the small windows there with fury.  When I got back to the table, Linda was alone.  I had rehearsed what I was going to say.
"Linda?  I can't say that I like being called 'Anne'."
She shook her head.  "But you said you didn't mind.."
"But.. That was different.  That was 'Annie'."

She shook her head some more.  "I'm really sorry.  I didn't mean to offend .. But after you said it was Okay? Well, I'm really.."
She was so truly repentant that I forgave her immediately.  This didn't lift her spirits though and, somehow, by the time we were through, I had accepted that it was now OK for me to be called 'Anne'.
"A much nicer name don't you think?"  She'd asked.  Weakly, I'd concurred so became 'Anne' openly for the rest of the evening.

We were about the last to leave.  Outside, it was obvious that the rain was now a full force storm.  The valet parker was going to get the car, but Linda stopped her.  "No honey.  That old car can get really balky in the rain.  You stall her and we'd be here all night."
"But we'll get soaked going to the car Linda!"  I wailed.
"Don't be silly Anne.  I'll go get the car.  You'll have to get down to the curb there - but maybe this young lady here can get an umbrella while I go get the car?"

The valet girl nodded.  Linda pulled her scarf out from her pocket - and proceeded to tie it around my hair!  Shocked, I tried to wave her off.  She addressed me sternly.  "Look Anne?  I'm gonna get soaked, no matter what. It won't help you much, but it'll help some, so stop this nonsense, OK?"

And, a minute or two later, the parking valet now openly addressing me as 'miss' I was led over to the car when Linda drove up.  And, even trying very hard to maintain some degree of masculine pride, I couldn't.  I let out little squeals of protest as some of the rain actually hit my forehead - it was so cold!  The two women smiled at each other as if to say 'she's a weak sister, eh?', I finally got in the car, and we drove off.

She had a blanket for me, a lovely soft mohair in soft pastels.  Gratefully, I cuddled into it's warmth.  Her arm snaked around my shoulder and pulled me into her.  I laid my head on her shoulder, and sighed happily.  She put the radio on.  It was full of news about the storm, phone lines down, electricity out and so on.  Idly, I wondered if mother was all right.

It wasn't five minutes later that my euphoria ended suddenly. I must have been starting to doze off when Linda's arm left me and she swore loudly.  I didn't know what to do.  A loud noise came from over my head and, seconds later, a shock of cold water hit me on the face.  I realized that the problem with the roof had started again.

As I woke to this conclusion, the car stopped totally and all the lights went out.  Linda reacted with a stream of profanity that would have won my mother's respect.  We were still protected by the car roof, but only a little as it hadn't had time to retract fully before all the power had died.  The weather outside was terrible, but it was clear that we couldn't stay in the car.
"You'll have to give me a hand Anne."  She said.  "Gotta get this heap to the side of the road before somebody hits us.  You take the wheel.  Put the car in neutral, and I'll push."

She went out into the storm.  I moved over into the drivers seat and steered it over to the shoulder when she pushed it.  She came back into the passengers side, puffing for breath.
"Jesus!  It's awful out there.  But hate to say it sweets, it looks as if our best hope is to head for my house.  It's only about five hundred yards away, I think - hard to tell.  But I can't think of anything else to do.  We can't stay here all night.  Any ideas?"

"No." I said helplessly.  "You don't think you can fix the car?"
"Not a hope."  She replied.  "Honest.  I'd go and get an umbrella, but I don't think I even have one here.  I'm pretty sure I left it at the office."
"Well.  If you think it's best..?"  I deferred to her.  She nodded.
"Just a sec then."  And took my lovely warm blanket and stuffed it into the opening between the roof of the car and the winshield.  "It'll help keep some of the rain out of the interior"  she explained. "Let's go, eh?"

She was right.  Her house wasn't far at all but we were abolutely, totally, drenched from head to toe by the time we got there.  I don't think I've ever felt so sodden in my entire life.  Naturally, I was miserable.  She, on the other hand seemed to enjoy the experience facing directly into the storm, her strong arm around my shoulders, helping me along.

"Wow!"  She said as she let us into the hall of her house.  "That was an experience, eh?  Why don't you just strip off all of your clothes here - I'll go get some towels."
She proceeded to follow her own advice, stripping her clothes off as she spoke.  I couldn't help but see her beautifully formed body as she did so.  There wasn't an ounce of shyness in her as she walked around naked in front of me.  I was a lot more tentative, but really had no choice.

The electricity was out, but there was some light thrown off from a fire in the living room.  She examined me in the semi darkness.  Put her hand on the underside of my upper arm.
"Gee but you're soft."  She said.  "Don't work out much, do you?"
I started blushing again.  "No."  I admitted.  "But you do, don't you?"

"Oh yeah."  She replied.  "Here.  Feel this muscle."  She crooked her arm, and offered the result for my inspection.  I touched it lightly.  The hardness was very impressive.  I got an erection that I couldn't hide.

Her teeth gleamed in the reflected light.  "Well, there's something not soft.  Hardbody's turn you on, eh?"  Then she laughed.  "First.  Lets get that ponytail of yours undone. It's cute but your hair'll dry a lot quicker if you do.  Then let me get you something to wear - you can't be very comfortable."  With that, she picked up our piles of wet clothing, and left the room, saying as she left  "Why don't you put some more wood on the fire?  Get some more heat in here.  There's a g... good fella."

While she was gone, I undid my ponytail, and shook my hair out.  Then I carefully put some of the logs onto the fire, avoiding the sparks that came off.  The wood must have been very dry, because it was already caught when she returned a few minutes later.

She was wearing a plaid robe, man's style,  tied at the waist.  She'd brought me a large towel and a terry robe.  I dried myself quickly, then picked up the robe.  Even in the half light of the fireplace I could see the pinkness of it, the rounded feminine lapels, the flared sleeves, and the length - down almost to my ankles.  I wasn't about to complain.  Gratefully, I slid my arms into it's warmth and comfort.  Stood placidly as she tied the sash around my waist, a small grin playing around the corners of her mouth as she did so.

I didn't argue too much when she went to a sideboard, then came back and  pressed a snifter of brandy on me.
"Just sip on that by the fire.  I'll run you a bath."
"I don't suppose we can call mummy?"  I asked.
She shook her head.  "Electricity's down.  Phones are down.  But don't worry.  If the rain lets up, I'll get out and fix the car in the morning - I'll get you home in plenty of time."

I shrugged.  Even mummy couldn't blame me.  It was totally out of my hands.  Linda gave me a quick smile and left the room.  I sat in a chair by the fire.
Basking in comfort now, my robe around me, the fireplace starting to give out more heat, a drink to warm my insides, I relaxed back in the chair.  I could hear the sound of water running.

"O.K.  Anne"  I heard her shout, "Bath's just about ready.  Better come on, before it gets cold."  Obediently, I got up and headed out of the room towards the sound of running water.

She must have got a candle from somewhere because out of the room, away from the fire, I could see a flickering light coming from an open doorway.  I could hear the sound of running water and, when I went in to the bathroom, saw Linda on her knees, swishing the water around to check the temperature.

I still had my brandy with me, so took another sip from the glass.  The motion gave my presence away.  She looked up.  "Hi Anne!  Strip off that robe and get your cute little tush into this water.  It's just about perfect.  Here, give that glass to me until you get in.  There, that's it!"

The water had a layer of bubbles that must have been six inches deep.  There was also a sweet, perfumy floral scent coming off the water.  Hesitating for only a moment - I was still shy of being naked in front of her, I handed her the robe and slid into the bath.  As she had said, it was just perfect.  Warm enough to make me hesitate a little, but wonderful after I was in a second or two.  She handed the glass back to me.  "Here.  Don't drink this too fast.  Just take it easy and relax.  I'm going to grab a quick shower.  Don't fall asleep, o.k?"

I grinned up at her and sank a few more inches into my perfumed bath.  Waved my glass at her.  "I'll call when I need you." I said grandly.  She laughed and flicked some of the soap suds that had adhered to her fingers at me and left the bathroom.  I saw that she had taken my robe with her.  Took it to be an oversight on her part.

I followed her instructions as well as I could, but gradually found myself slipping into sleep.  I finished the brandy and put the glass on a small shelf at the side of the bath.  Lay back for what seemed like a second, then came to with a start to find Linda standing above me.  "C'mon sleepyhead"  she said gently.  "Lets get you outta there, Linda will dry you all nice.  C'mon doll."  She held a large towel up invitingly.  I clambered out of my bath and into her embrace.  She wouldn't let me dry myself, so I huddled sleepily against her body as she rubbed me all over with the soft towel.

I wasn't quite ready for her when the towel was done with and dropped to the floor.  In the flickering candlelight I then saw her advance on me with what seemed to be a round box in one hand and a fluffy 'something' in the other.  She then started dabbing at me with the powder applicator - for that's what the fluffy thing was - and replenishing it with powder from the box.  The smell of perfume filled my nostrils.  "Linda?  What are you doing?"  I protested. 
"Making you smell pretty.  What d'you think silly?  Now stand still!  There that's it, all done.  Now, let's get your nightie on.  Hold your arms out in front of you, and I'll help you get it on."

I nearly fainted.  All the treatment of the night - the constant feminizing of my role, the girl's name, the perfumed powder had just been the lead-in to the satin nightdress she was holding out in front of me.  I looked at her doubtfully.
"C'mon Anne."  She said gently.  "Don't make a fuss now.  Be a good girl."

"Please Linda?"  I asked softly, but raised my arms as ordered.  She smiled and started putting the satin tunnel over them, and pushing my head into the opening.  I felt the material cascade silkily over my shoulders and down my body, the hem coming to a rest just above my instep.
"There!  Doesn't that feel nice?  Here, look in the mirror.  I know the light's not very good.  But look at how pretty you look."  She turned me to look into a mirror mounted on the back of the door.  Put a possessive arm around my waist.  Fluffed my hair a little with her hand.
The soft light didn't give much detail but, with my hair down about my shoulders now, a long satin nightdress with puffy sleeves at the shoulder, a scooped neckline shirred in lace, and the skirt of the gown falling almost to the floor, I did make a very feminine picture standing there in the protection of her masculine arm.  She gave me a firm pat on the rear.  "Now.  Aren't you going to thank Linda for the nice nightdress?"
"Eh?"  I said numbly.
"Say 'thank you Linda for the pretty nightgown'"  she commanded.
I mumbled my thanks to her.
"She doesn't sound very grateful to me"  she said as if to herself  "but let's see if she's any happier with the pegnoir.  Here Anne, try this on, why don't you..?"

Amd in an unresisting haze I put on the diaphonous, filmy, chiffon robe over my satin nightgown.  Then thanked her for that - and the fluffy slippers with the low heels.  Last, but not least, at her request I applied a coat of lipstick to my lips using the mirror.  I wasn't prepared, but wasn't too surprised when she swept me up into her arms and carried me back into the living room and the couch by the fire.

She didn't spend long with me.  Seemed to know that she was totally beyond any previous experience that I'd ever had.  Kissed and fondled me until I writhed, then lifted - slowly - the hem of my nightgown until I was bared underneath her. Brought her body over mine, then sat on top of me.  Placed her moistness over my standing erection, then moved slowly up and down on me until I came with a shudder that convulsed my whole body.

I don't know if I was drunk, exhausted, or confused - or a mixture of all three.  She carried me to the bedroom, then left me alone for a chance to clean myself up, and climb into bed.  A few minutes later, she joined me.  We didn't speak.  Content, I cuddled into her warmth.

During the night, she made love to me again.  This time I was a lot more attuned to my place in the scheme of things, and played my feminine role with more expertise. I felt even more sure of this when I woke up the next morning and found with a stab of dismay that she wasn't in bed beside me.  I really didn't think anything at all of pulling on my pegnoir when I went through to look for her in the kitchen - it seemed natural now.  She wasn't there, but a pot of instant coffee sat warming on the gas range.  Gratefully, I poured a cup and tracked through the house looking for her, my cloud of chiffon floating over my satin gown.

The morning was bright and sunny, all traces of the night's storm gone.  There were remembrances of course:  some broken tree branches in the driveway, some puddles.  I tried the lights and the phone.  Both were still dead.  Somehow, I wasn't too concerned about mummy.  I seemed to have acquired a new mistress I thought - one who would be more than capable of taking care of me.

The front door opened and Linda came in, hair tousled, eyes bright.
"Morning Anne.  Isn't it lovely out?  Did you sleep well?"
While speaking, she came to me and gave me a kiss, her hand caressing my back as she did so.
"Oh yes!"  I replied, warming to her touch.  "Slept great.  Would you like a cup of coffee?"
"I've already had one"  she replied, "but another won't do any harm, I guess."

I poured her a cup - she took it black.  "Been at the car?"  I asked.  "Can you fix it?"
"Yes. And yes"  she replied.  "Matter of fact, it's back here at the house."  She looked at the clock.  "I was down there an hour ago.  Got the roof down, but it'll have to stay that way until I get a new part - and I'll need a little doohickey to fix the electrical problem that we had last night.  It should be easy though, I can pick them up going through town while I'm taking you home."
"Oh?  Will the car go OK?"  I asked.
She grinned and shook her head. "Yeah.  But it's chancy.  Have you tried the phones?"

I nodded. "Yes.  But they were dead a few minutes ago"
"Chances are that your mother's cut off as well."  She thought out loud.  "And if she is, she can't call a taxi to get her to the airport.  What time's her flight again?"
"One thirty."
"Oh, plenty of time then.  Like to wrassle up some breakfast?"
"Sure.  Anything you fancy?"
"Nah.  Can't have you cooking in that outfit.  Some toast will be fine.  I'll go and grab a quick shower.  Back in a jiffy."

I made some fresh coffee and set the table.  Had the toast nice and warm for her when she got back.  She looked terrific.  Jeans, blue shirt type blouse, leather boots.  She smiled when she saw the set table.  "I'm not used to being looked after like this.  Nice.  But Anne?  Can I ask a favor of you?"
"Of course."  I replied happily.
"I know I sound like a fuss budget, but you do look kinda mussed.  Would you go and comb your hair a little?.."
"Oh sure!"  I said.
"And freshen up your lipstick?  It's almost all gone."

I was embarrassed all over again.  Her requests made me only too aware of my feminine clothes and behaviour.  I hesitated.  She looked at me calmly. Blushing, I went back to the bedroom, gave my face a wash, combed my hair - put on some fresh lipstick.  She just smiled at me when I got back to the table, mouthed a 'thank you' at me.

I had some coffee and toast with her, but started to look nervously at the clock.
"What's the matter honey?"  She asked.
"Well I can't  possibly wear the clothes I had on last night.. Was hoping you'd maybe go and get some clothes for me.  Explain to mummy why we're late.."
I saw the blank expression on her face, and my words tailed off.
"Well that seems kinda silly, doesn't it?"  She asked.  "There's tons clothes here you can wear - and just suppose my car broke down while I was doing all of that running around?  How'd your mother get to the airport?  Think she'd be happy with either of us?"

I considered what she was saying.  "Well .. Maybe, I mean if you had some pants.. A blouse something like you're wearing?"
She was looking at me, open mouthed.  Then she smiled.
"You must be joking Anne.  These are myclothes, and I don't lend my clothes to anybody."
I plucked at my pegnoir sleeve nervously.  " But what about this robe .. This nightgown.  Aren't these yours?"
She nodded reluctantly.  "In a manner of speaking, I guess so.  See, mum is a buyer for a department store.  Keeps getting all these great deals - on clothes I wouldn't think of wearing.  I usually collect them for a while, then give them to the goodwill.."
"But what's wrong with them?"  I asked, puzzled.

"Shit!  Can't you see?  They're so damn feminine!  I wouldn't be caught dead in them!"  She said, seemingly amazed that I'd even think to ask such a question.
"But, I'm a man,"  I said.  "So how come you think I should wear them?"

She shook her head, smiling.  "But you're a sissie."  She said kindly, as if the answer should be obvious to me. "Sissies keep house for their 'mummy's'- and like to dress up in pretty clothes.  They don't mind being called by girl's names.."   She was walking towards me all the time she was speaking and, as she reached me, took me in her arms.  Whispered softly in my ear  "and, guess what?  They're very good at doing what they're told to do by big strong girls like me.  Now.  Don't you think you're a sissie, Anne?  C'mon now.  Tell Linda that you don't like your satin gown, and your pretty robe.  C'mon now."  She kissed me.  I shuddered in a kind of fear, but didn't answer.

"See?  You like them just fine!"  She said playfully.  "So let's go and pick you out some nice clothes to go home in."  She started walking me along the hall, back to the bedroom.
"Please Linda.."  I started, but she put a finger gently over my mouth.
"Shush!"  She said.  "Now listen to me.  I'll let you pick out what you want, but I have some rules that you might want to think about while you're making your choices.  Want to hear them?"
I nodded obediently, and she took her finger away from my lips.

"No pants of any description, no pantyhose - just garter belts and nylons.  You'll need to pad your bra, but I don't want you to be ostentatious about it.  You don't need to wear high heels - but at least a medium heel. Eh?  - I think some of mine will fit you.  Once you get your lingerie on - nice lacy stuff now - put your robe back on, and call me.  I'll make you up and do something to your hair."

I shook my head, but very slowly, terror driving me to argue.  "But Linda.. I can't .. What will mummy..  Oh dear... Must I Linda?"
"Look, you silly little goose,"  she said kindly  "You have to borrow some ladies clothes to go home in.  Right?"
"I guess so."  I admitted.
"In a car that's open, with the roof down.  Right?"
I nodded.
"So.  Do you want to look like a man in girl's clothes when I stop at the dealers for the parts - or look like a girl waiting for her friend?"

I couldn't speak.  The horror of what she was saying crashing through my defences - she was going to take me into town while she bought her auto parts!!  By being silent, I lost my chance.  By this time, we had reached the door to the bedroom.  She pushed me gently  "The pretty lingerie is in the bottom drawer there - the outerwear for you is in the right hand side of the closet.  Hurry now Anne.  We don't have all day."  With that, she closed the door behind me.

In a kind of dream state, I went and explored the areas that held the clothes for me.  The drawer held a lot of pastel-hued frothy lingerie, folded in what looked like 'sets', each set containing panties, bra, garter belt, then slips of various lengths, some full , some half - and camisoles.  Packets of nylon stockings were stored down one side of the drawer.

The closet held what she had described - feminine clothing.  There was one pant suit, but the pants were of a silky material, and very large, with an outrageous floral design.  They were more feminine than some of the dresses!
It didn't matter anyway, I thought.  Linda had said "no pants", and I wasn't in any frame of mind to challenge her.  Slowly, I made my choices from the two areas.

The lingerie I picked was a sort of pale salmon color, lace edged.  The panties were briefs, and the set contained a half slip - quite short - and a camisole.  I picked a silky blue blouse with a shirt front, but large lapels, and long full sleeves.  A black skirt of a sort of heavy silk (turned out to be gros-grain later) that zipped at the back.

I undressed and showered.  Powdered myself again - didn't see any harm in it now.  Then started getting dressed. I'd thought that the fastening of the bra and garter belt might give me trouble, but I had no problems whatsoever.
A few minutes later, totally ensconsed in my new lingerie, I searched for shoes.  Found a pair of dark patent leather that weren't too high in the heel - actually quite comfortable too.  I padded my bra with a couple of silk scarves I found then, taking a deep breath, kicked the shoes off, put my robe on, and called out for Linda.

She was most complimentary about my choices.  I blushed with pleasure at what she was saying.  I blushed some more as she made me up, teasing me unmercifully as she applied the various cosmetics - the base, blusher, eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick - asking me how my 'mummy' would like me now.  I tried to object when she glued long red false nails over my own.
"So?  We break down and I've to get a tow truck.  A girl like you're gonna look like with no nails?  Don't be crazy!"
After that, she took a battery operated curling iron and crimped my hair into some waves at the front.  "We'll put a scarf on you later.  Shouldn't look too bad"  she explained.

Then I was getting into my skirt and blouse, ashamed again when she pointed out how my pretty underwear showed underneath the blouse. At her instigation, I put on a pearl necklace with earrings to match, then a sort of chunky bracelet and a couple of costume jewelry rings.

She gave me a light, silky, anorak type of thing to wear as a jacket over my outfit, then tied my hair with a a light blue scarf that tied under my chin.  Then she gave me a pair of wraparound sun glasses.  Through them, I stared at the woman that faced me in the mirror.
"Just think how nice I could have you looking with a real pretty dress and some time."  She said, grinning.  I gulped.

The last item of my wardrobe was a handbag.  "Ever see a woman without one?"  Was all it took to convince me.
The car started up just fine.  At first I was terrified, but sitting on the seat beside her, her arm around my shoulder again, I started to relax.  It didn't take us long to get back into town.  She parked in the small lot beside the auto parts store, and I sat in the car for what seemed like an eternity.

And then one of the young ladies that worked for mummy passed by.  Her eye was probably caught by the car first, but I could sense her curiousity in me.
For a terrible second, I thought she was going to come and talk.  Did the only thing I could.  Opened my handbag and took out my lipstick.  Pretended to be totally engrossed in my reflection in the rear view mirror while I carefully applied a new coating.

"My!  Aren't we a quick learner."  I heard Linda's voice as she got in the car.  I took my eyes from the mirror and only Linda was there - the girl was gone.  Linda obviously assumed that I was just being feminine.  I didn't think I stood much chance of explaining, so just closed my lipstick tube up and put it back in my bag.

She'd got the parts she needed to fix the car.  "I can do it at your house.  We'll have plenty of time."  She said, looking at her watch.  "It's what?  A half hour at most to the airport from there?  It's only eleven right now.  We should be at your house in fifteen minutes - I'll need ten minutes tops to replace the parts.  Plenty of time!"

I sighed, a sort of fright taking over me.  In a short while my mother was going to see her son totally dressed and made up as a woman.  Everything that had happened could be explained, but it suddenly seemed that, surely, there must have been other choices open to me.  I just couldn't seem to think clearly about what they were though. The quicker I could get back into my own clothes, the better, I thought.  Might get my thinking back into some sort of logical order.  I grinned to myself - maybe I was a 'natural' female.  Put me in women's clothes and I became the prototype 'bimbo', incapable of thinking for herself.

"Anne?"  I heard Linda ask.  I shook myself out of my thought stream.
"Yes?"  I replied.
"Want you to do something for me honey.  O.K?"
"Of course Linda."  I said softly.
"You're comfortable in these shoes?"
"Yes. As a matter of fact I am."  I answered.
"Good! I thought so.  You were walking fine in them back in the house."
She paused.

"But what does that have to do with what you want me to do?"  I asked.
"Well.. I don't want you, all of a sudden to discover that you've got problems in them - like wobbling around.  That sort of thing."
"But why would I do something like that?" 
"Well... You might not want your mummy to think that you're too good on heels.  Might give her some ideas, you know?"

And I saw what she meant.  I couldn't show any vestiges of masculinity at all - not even being unable to walk in heels.  I shuddered. What was mummy going to say?

We parked out front.  "Just stay there Anne." Linda said.  "I'll get the door for you."
Mummy had heard the car drive up, and had come out onto the porch.  I guess she'd been expecting Linda - but obviously didn't know who the hell I was.
"Where's Andy?"  She called out.

Linda didn't answer.  Just opened the car door for me. Handbag in hand, I slid out from the car, and straightened my skirt a little.
"I'm here mummy."  I called out weakly.
I saw her mouth literally fall about four inches.  Then she laughed.  "It wasn't hallow'een last night by any chance, was it?  Or did I miss something?"
"Honestly mummy?  There's an explanation.." I started.
"You can tell her later Anne.  Let's get in the house now."  Linda suggested firmly, taking my arm.

Mummy was transfixed at the doorway, but recovered enough to step aside to let us in.
"Must have been a helluva storm right enough.  Looks like it blew my son into my daughter."  Mummy laughed.  "By god Andy!  You make a nice looking girl.  I'd never have suspected.."
"I call her Anne"  Linda said slowly and deliberately.  "Don't like Andy.  So, if you don't mind, d'you think you could get used to calling her that?"
She turned to me  "How's about wrassling up some lunch hon?  I'm starving."
"But I'll need to change, Linda."
"Later dear.  Right now, put an apron on to cover up your blouse and skirt, and make some lunch for all of us, eh?"
She had a look in her eye that warned me from making any argument.  Meekly, I went into the kitchen and started preparing the table for lunch.

I could hear some talking going on between the two of them.  At first it was low, but then I heard them laugh together.  When I called them in to eat, all indications of any tension between them were gone.

After lunch, Linda went out to the car to effect the repairs.  Mother came into the kitchen where I was doing the dishes.
"That Linda's quite a girl"  she said admiringly.  Then she looked at me archly  "or do you see her as a guy?"
I blushed.  Changed the subject.  "Well.  That's the dishes done.  I'd better get upstairs and change.  It's almost twelve.  We'd better start thinking about getting you to the airport."

"Linda know you're gonna change clothes?"  She asked.
"Well .. She said I could do it later - and it's later, isn't it?"  I parried.  "I mean I can't be walking around like this all day."  In spite of my words, I was starting to have the strangest feeling.
"Maybe I'd better go talk to her."  I said carefully.
"Might be a damn good idea - Anne."  Mummy said, laughing again.  "I have the feeling that you'd better not show too much independent thinking around the bold Linda - you could find yourself over her knee pretty quick, I think."

I took my apron off.  Hung it up, then went out to talk to Linda.  She was just finishing up.  "Hi honey"  she said cheerfully.  "All fixed.  Just let me get cleaned up, and we'll get mummy dearest to the airport."
I tried to act nonchalent.  "It'll only take me a minute or so to.."

"To do what?"  She asked, puzzled. "If you're talking about moving your mother's luggage to the car, you can take the little cases.  But leave the bigger ones for me - they'll be too heavy for you."
"Ah .... I was actually meaning to go and change.." I stammerd.
"What for?" She replied.
"Anne?  Just stop being so silly.  I don't have enough time that I can stand around here, talking nonsense with you.  If you want to change, you can do it when we get back to the house."

"I've to go to the airport looking like this?"  I said weakly.
She examined me.  "Well. Your makeup needs a touch up, but other than that, I can't see that you need do anything.."

The three of us left for the airport shortly after this.  I'd freshened up my makeup and had the anorak, scarf, and sunglasses back on.  I sat in the front in the passenger seat.  Linda made me stay there while she unloaded mummy's luggage at the kerb.  Mummy came and leaned into the car.  Gave me a kiss.
"See you when I get back Anne.  Be good."
Linda said her goodbye as well then jumped back in the car. She had me put my head on her shoulder after we left the busy airport.  I settled into her comfortably.

Then, suddenly I saw that we were not heading back to the house.
"Where are we going Linda?  I think you missed the turnoff."
"I'm going to the house."  She said  "where do think?"
"But the house is back that way.."  I said, puzzled.
"No.  Your house is back that way.  My house is this way."

"But you said I could change when we got back to the house..."
"That's right.  I did, and you can.  There's all sorts of pretty clothes you can put on there, don't you remember?"
I could see now what was happening.  It was going to take a while for me to get any chance of changing back into more masculine garments.  I sighed and relaxed.  "You want me to stay with you until mummy gets back, don't you?"  I asked.

"Z'actly!  Thatagirl!"  She laughed. "Then, when she gets back, I'll move in with you guys.  See, she didn't want to give up her housekeeper and I don't want to give up my girlfriend.  This seemed like the best compromise.  Don't you think?  See, by the time she gets back, you'll just be so pretty and feminine you'll never think about being a man again."

I thought about the contents of the closet back at her house.  "There's a nice pair of floral pants there Linda.  I know you said that I can't wear pants - but they're really pretty.  Can I try them on?"  I asked meekly.
"Not today."  She said firmly.  "Just dresses for a while.  Then we'll see."

                                                             The end
And now - a few of Rosie's 'Bits'.


I waited until the children – my son and my niece – had gone upstairs before I gave my sister the full account of yesterday’s events.
“You should have seen him, Diane,” I said quietly, carefully placing my tea cup back on the table, “I swear, the nerve of that woman…”
“Laura,” my sister said soothingly, reminding me not to give in to my anger again.

Two month or so ago my son told me that he wanted to start living together with his girlfriend, Susan, at her mother’s house. I was reluctant to let him, as any mother would be, but after a meeting with both Susan and Martha, her mother, I decided to allow it.
My reservations were based on the fact that I wasn’t sure what Stephen would actually contribute to the household. He was still struggling with his college studies and although I myself had lost any faith left I had of him finishing it, I didn’t have the heart to make him stop and look for a proper job. After all, it wasn’t costing me much and I could easily wait another year before he could start earning his own money.
Martha assured me that no contribution from him was needed, that he wouldn’t lack a thing and would be free to study all he wanted. Well, who was I to argue? Perhaps, I hoped, the change of environment would help him see things in a new light, give him that kick in the behind he needed to stop fooling around and find himself a job.

“I’m sorry,” I said, composing my self, “But really, who does she think she is? I’ve told you before how I thought Susan was a little bossy, but her mother… I shouldn’t have ever allowed Stephen to move in with them.”
“Oh, don’t blame yourself,” Diane said, “There’s no way you could have known. I mean, Susan is a good girl, you said so yourself.”
“Well, yes,” I admitted, “She is the dominant type, but let’s face it, Stephen’s never been alpha male material himself. You know, I always imagined how he’d marry a sweet little girl that’d take care of him, so it was kind of hard to swallow the fact that we was the one who was sweet and little between the two of them.”
“At least he didn’t turn out gay,” Diane said, reminding me of my past fears, “Sure, you’d like it more if she wasn’t that much bigger than him, but at least she’s a girl.”

I have to say I was more than a bit surprised when Stephen introduced me to Susan, his girlfriend. Relieved, yes, as I seriously suspected him of being gay, not having had any experience with girls at 23 years of age. But, more than that, surprised. Mind you, Stephen is my son and thus my little prince, the most handsome man in the world, but still not the type girls like Susan go for. He’s delicate, to put it nicely. Of frail built, hardly as tall as me if I don’t wear heels. Susan, on the other hand, is a tall girl, I’d say six feet, athletic figure, and very pretty. I’ve always imagined that girls like her fall for the burly, macho types. I could be sure money wasn’t the reason she was with him – I’m well off, considered I’m a single mother and all, but nowhere as wealthy as Susan’s mother.
Of all the men she could have, I thought, she picks my Stephen. Quite flattering, actually. They struck me as an odd couple at the beginning, but soon I began to see them in a different light. Stephen never was really assertive and was, I have to admit, only happy to obey instructions, albeit grudgingly, as it relieved him of the hard task of making his own decisions. Susan, on the other hand, was just the opposite. Knew what she wanted and didn’t hesitate saying it. Appeared kind of bossy, but not ruthless. Especially not with Stephen as he never offered any resistance, and with me? Why, she was sweet as honey, the perfect daughter-in-law one could imagine. Sure, one couldn’t imagine her helping me in the kitchen but these days it seems that a polite girl is all you can hope for. Anyway, I got enough help from Stephen.

“Susan’s great,” I repeated, my voice trailing off.
“See? There’s no way you could have suspected anything,” Diane said.
“Well, it was strange how they wanted to plan my visits for almost days ahead,” I said, “I should have know something is amiss.”
“Hindsight is always 20-20,” she replied.

Everything was normal when Stephen moved to Martha’s house. The house seemed empty, but I expected it to be that way. However, in time, my communication with Stephen somehow ceased. He rarely called and I didn’t want to embarrass him by calling all the time. At times I’d drop by to visit, or they’d visit me, though after the first time I dropped in unannounced, I got a distinct feeling that further visits should be scheduled ahead. Not that a single word was spoken in that direction, but the notion hung in the air.

“Let me tell you, I thought I’d faint when I saw them yesterday,” I said, though warily, trying not to explode with rage again.

Weeks after my last visit at Martha’s house I went out to see a film. Coming from the cinema, I noticed familiar figures on the sidewalk, just coming out of a café. I recognized Martha and Susan and another girl, but I couldn’t see Stephen with them, which surprised me.
“Good evening,” I said cheerfully, walking up to them.
“Oh, Laura,” Martha said as if I’d startle her, “What a surprise.”
“Stephen not with you?” I asked though even before I had finished the sentence, I realized the answer. As soon as she saw me, the strange girl stepped behind Martha, as if to hide behind her massive frame.
“Stephen?” I said to her.
Silently, Martha moved away and the girl stepped forward.
“It’s me,” she said.
There he was, my son, wearing a distasteful shiny blue satin skirt, along with an equally cheap looking black satin blouse, three inch black patent leather shoes on his feet, his legs in black fishnet nylons. His makeup was obscene to say the least, eyelids painted bright blue, cheeks heavily reddened, lips an impossible shade of crimson.

“It simply maddened me,” I said to my sister, “There’s her and Susan, all dressed nicely while Stephen’s looking like a cheap floozy. Would it kill her to get her some nice clothes? Hell, I wouldn’t mind paying for them, I told her over and over again to let me get him some new clothes.”
“So what did you do?” Diane asked.
“Grabbed him by his hand and dragged him off,” I said, “Could have probably handled it in a better way, but I was too angry to think straight.”

I remember how well Stephen kept his balance on his high heels, despite the frantic pace and the fact I was still tugging at his wrist as I led him into the movie theater’s ladies’ room. There I washed off his makeup as much as I could, then touched up his lips with my own lipstick, a darker, much more sensible shade. Then I took him home. When we got home, there was a message from Martha on my machine. Against my better judgment, I listened to it, then called her.

I glanced at my watch.
“We’d better get going,” I said to Diane.
“You could leave him here,” she offered, “There’s no sense in dragging him to the battlefield.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t be making any scenes,” I said, then got up.
“Stephanie!” I called out, “It’s time we got moving.”
My son and my niece came down the stairs. He was still wearing my black knee length skirt, but at least he had changed out of my white silk blouse into Macy’s black and pink polka dot top with cute cupped sleeves and a bow at the neckline.
“Is that all you two could come up with in all that time?” I said.
“Well, there was a skirt that fitted me nicely, but it was too short and my slip showed underneath,” my son explained in his new, girlish voice.
“Well, alright then,” I sighed, “Don’t forget your handbag.”


I hugged my husband tightly just as he was getting ready to go to work. I kissed him. Only a brief, soft kiss. I wanted to kiss him more firmly, didn’t care if I spread lipstick all over his face but he, apparently, did, so he pulled away.
My mother who was already waiting for him in her car outside honked the horn impatiently.
“I’ve got to go,” my husband whispered.
Not wanting to let go of him, I snuck my hand inside his coat.
“Shirley, stop,” he giggled and pulled away. As he did so, I notice a flash of familiar gray fabric under the folds of his coat.
“Hey!” I said, “Are you wearing my skirt again?”
“No,” he said, but I could tell he was lying by the way he wrapped his red coat around him. I tried to open his coat, but he stepped back.
“I really don’t have time for this, you’re mother’s waiting outside,” he said, buttoning his coat and stepping into his white court shoes with a three inch heel.
“Wait just a minute,” I said, “You only have one grey skirt, and it’s longer than your coat.”
“I guess it’s just hiked up,” he replied, backing towards the front door.
“Oh no it hasn’t,” I said, menacingly “C’mon, open your coat.”
“I have to go, Shirley,” he repeated, “And it’s cold outside.”
”You’ll open it in the car anyway,” I insisted.
“Okay,” he sighed and began unbuttoning his coat, though taking care not to let it open. We heard another honk from my mother’s horn. He opened the door, then turned back towards me and stood in the doorway. Like an exhibitionist in a park, he opened his coat wide, then closed it up again after a mere second. Not a lot of time, but enough for me to see that he was indeed wearing my gray skirt, but also my white blouse too. I ran towards him, but he squealed, turned on his heel and minced hurriedly towards my mother’s car. Hesitating whether to chase after him in the cold morning air, I stood by the door, watching him sway his fore-arms to keep his balance while his elbows were close by his sides. After a moment, I walked back inside.
I realized it was time I got ready for work too. Still angry at him for taking my clothes, I decided that two can play that game. Today, I’d wear his black blouse and maybe his green satin city shorts. What business did he have wearing pants anyway?


belinda said...

Thanks Bea. I am glad that i can sometimes make a contribution. I would like to say something about the demographics of male and female dominance/submission. I did some research on this topic looking at Fetlife profiles, and wrote it up last year in my blog,

The first thing I would say is that you shouldn't refer to masculinity and femininity / dominance and submission as if these were the same, correlated but distinctly different.
There are 3x as many male profiles as female profiles on fetlife so there are just a lot more kinky males than females. Most of these males are dominant as most females are submissive, but 4% of all profiles are female dominants. Still pure male submissives are 14% and another 25% of profiles are males who are D/S switches. Anyway you look at it, there are at least 3 men looking to be dominated for every female who describes herself as a dominant.
I think the odds for transgender and sissy males is even more steep. Most dominant females in my experience are not necessarily looking for feminized males. The most common relationship is a dominant female and a male slave who doesn't have any particular intereest in female clothes.
Having said all that, I think that a feminine male, has a reasonable chance of finding a female dominant who will honor their fantasies to some extent. I know a few couples which would fit very nicely in a Bea story. I served tea at a Lady's House not long ago, where there were in excess of two dozen dominant ladies, who were at least charmed by my maid's attire if they didn't necessarily want to rip it off.
I think one big problem for many submissive males, including feminized males in meeting dominants is that ...well to put it bluntly they are pretenders, something a dominant lady friend of mine calls wankers. They want a fantasy to occur, in which a woman plays a fantasy dominant. But this is what keeps professional dommes in business. If you want to have a relationship with a real dominant woman, then rule one is ..respect Her dominance. You are the submissive. You are supposed to be doing what she wants, fulfilling her fantasies. Approach Her on a site like fetlife with a resolve to fulfill Her desires foremost, freely admitting that you are perhaps only submissive when allowed to wear your frillies, and some of your readers may be surprised to find that they can find relationships with dominant women that mutually fulfill fantasies.

Anonymous said...

Hey Bea, don't give up on your blog. Although, not too many girlies out there comment I'm pretty sure you realize how popular it is for the amount of visits you receive. I was the anonymous reader who suggested a different browser, I will set up an account and reply more if that helps encourage you to continue. :)

Blogger said...

I've just downloaded iStripper, so I can have the best virtual strippers on my taskbar.

Blogger said...

Trying to find the Best Dating Site? Join and find your perfect date.

Blogger said...

Did you know you can create short links with Shortest and earn cash for every visitor to your short urls.

Blogger said...

There's shocking news in the sports betting world.

It's been said that every bettor must watch this,

Watch this now or stop betting on sports...

Sports Cash System - Robotic Sports Betting Software.