By Any Other Name

Hi, everypeoples.  It is I, rocketdave, the contributor to this blog with the least girly moniker, making my inaugural post in order to share a look at one of my most recent drawings.

Also, here's another drawing that Bea commissioned me to do for a book published through Lulu a while back, though it and the other illustrations I did were left out of said book for the simple reason that nobody involved, including myself, knew how to insert images into the text.  The drawing was intended to go along with Bea's story "The Sissification of Martin."

In case you're wondering why I signed the older drawing with my actual initials while the newer pic is signed "rX," that is in reference to the deviantART account I set up specifically for art of this nature, which is registered under the user name rocketXpert.  I also have a much older deviantART account as rocketdave - that account was intended to be a general-purpose depository for any artwork I happened to do.  However, as soon as I posted my first feminization drawing, that type of thing became pretty much all anyone wanted to see.  I can't say I was surprised- it's been my observation that art that appeals to people's prurient interests is what garners the most attention.  While I initially appreciated my burgeoning popularity, I'm afraid I also felt an increasing resentment of how my online identity had become subverted.  Consequently, to put some distance between myself and the more fetishistic artwork, I registered for the second deviantART account last year.

Had I known I was destined to become so closely associated with crossdressing art and the like, I might have worked harder to carve out a separate identity for myself from the get-go.  Of course, some of that decision was taken out of my hands, such as when Bea started posting my work and crediting me by my full name... without consulting me on what I preferred, I might add.  Perhaps when Bea tried out a girl's name on me during our earliest correspondence, I shouldn't have objected.  While I wasn't bothered by it, in my experience, being called by a name other than my own is kind of a strange feeling and can get wearisome after a while, so I expressed some reservations about essentially pretending to be someone I'm not.  Bea's response: "What a fuss about a bloody name!"

As if two different user names on deviantART were't enough, further confusing matters, I use the nom de plume Debbie when I illustrate books for Sandy Thomas Advertising.   Talk about diluting your brand.  I guess whatever people want to call me is fine... just so long as none of my family members discover what sort of art I'm best known for.

Lastly, rounding out this rambling introduction, here are a couple caricatures of yours truly:

In case you can't tell, I'm a fan of a certain science fiction franchise.

Hey! I'm Still Here!

My apologies for having deserted this blog for such a long time - but I DO look in every so often and I thought I'd make a comment to Kammi for starters.

Kammi?  You have the balls to write for a blog in this genre.  For that, I thank you - as I'm sure that many readers do.  BUT?  From my own experience?  Don't be looking for feedback from readers.  I started this blog at the end of 2011 and the last I looked we were getting about 200, 000 views a year - and I was the major contributor for a long time.  Got myself very despondent about the few comments I received but gradually accepted it as a fact of life.

By nature?  Learned behaviour?  Transvestites and Cross Dressers are very publicity shy - they learn not to speak out - so if you accept that fact - then look at the views that are made monthly?  You must be doing 'something; correctly.  Hang in there babe.

I haven't contributed much to here and there are probably some viewers who wonder who the hell Bea is.  So?  I found this story.  It's fairly old, though certainly not one of my early stories.  In addition, it's from the point of view of a wife - quite different from my normal approach - but I hope that you like it.

POWER, POWER! WHO'S GOT THE POWER!

By Bea

     

I took my eyes off the road for a second. Charles sat, eyes fixed downwards, his knitting needles flashing, the ball of pink angora wool on his lap making tiny little jerks. He was becoming quite an accomplished knitter I thought.

I did feel a little flash of jealousy at the sight of  his small, well formed, soft hands. I mean, it's not that mine are huge or anything but it seems eminently unfair that even though he's just a little smaller and lighter than me, his hands should be so downright pretty. The pink nail polish he wore amplified how nice they were. But I couldn't complain, I thought, Mary's program was what had brought his and my relationship to this level - and anyway, she'd always said that I had lovely hands, so who cared?

     

"What is that you're making again darling?" I asked, my eyes back to the road in front.

"That little bolero jacket you admired dear," he said. "It goes with the sweater I just finished for you last week.".

"Oh yes. I remember now." I said, laughing to myself. Did he REALLY think I'd be caught dead in a ditzy, feminine, little sweater and jacket combo?

Just for fun, I decided to press it a little. We were almost at Mary's country retreat but it had been a three hour drive and I was getting thoroughly bored. "You know dear? I'm just now starting to feel that, well, that pink? I'm just thinking that as a color it might not go to well with my complexion."

He actually choked for a second. "But dear? I remember telling you that very thing. It was YOU that ..."

"Charles!" I interrupted firmly. "It was Mary that suggested that knitting would be a good stress reduction therapy for you. I can't be expected to tell her you're making any headway if you're going to argue with everything I say! I make a simple little comment and you start SHOUTING at me.."

"Oh dear!" he said consolingly. I didn't mean to hurt you.."

"Well you did!"  I blurted. Could not believe that this poor excuse for a man still felt superior to me!  Could NOT tell when I was acting.

He faltered but answered. "Well it was just that I spent a lot of time on the sweater, and this jacket is more than halfway done. It'll be an awful waste.."

"What do you mean, waste?" I countered quickly. I spoke more nastily than I intended, starting to feel a little guilty. He really was such a dear, but then I remembered that Mary had warned me against being too kind, so didn't want to apologize.

He replied hesitantly. "Well, if you don't want it, I can't think of anyone else.. I guess I could rip it out.."

"Aren't we about the same size? Wouldn't it fit YOU?" I fired at him.

"Me? But I couldn't.."

Why NOT? Because it would be too FEMININE for you? Want me to tell Mary that? You want to explain what happened to all this need to find your feminine traits? How are you ever going to become less aggressive and discover that inner sweetness that we all know you have if you don't TRY to overcome these macho discriminations?"

He blushed immediately. "I am trying. Honestly dear. It's just so difficult to remember all these things. What I meant was I couldn't wear them because it would look as if I'd done all of this knitting for myself. Thought it would make me look awfully selfish."

He sounded so contrite, that I rewarded him by taking my right hand from the wheel and giving him an encouraging pat on the thigh. "I'm sorry if I sound cruel darling. But just wait, you'll be all better soon, and just think how happy we two will be."

He smiled, a bit uncertainly, and went back to his knitting.

A few minutes later we drove in through the gates and up the long, tree-lined driveway to the front of Mary's place. I wasn't expecting the look of horror on Charles' face when he saw Rene and another of Mary's maids come down the stairs behind Mary when she came to greet us. His face actually turned pale.

"Why Charles! Whatever is the matter? You feel all right?" I asked.

He licked his lips nervously. "Rene? I didn't know she was coming? I thought she was visiting her sick aunt?"

I honestly felt guilty again. He was so obviously scared of Rene. I patted him on the thigh again. "Oh! Is that what it is? Isn't that a NICE surprise? No dear, I'm sorry we had to fib just a little. See, it seems that though Rene has been trained in Mary's programs, she needed a refresher, so we had her come down here a few days early. That way, she'll be even MORE qualified to work with you - and with us having a full week here, there will be less distractions for you both. Now, aren't you really glad you followed her advice on your traveling outfit?"

He looked down at his pleated, light blue, georgette blouse, his bra straps just barely visible, and the minimum amount of padding to show a tiny bust. He was also wearing black grosgrain pants and a coral necklace to match. He'd been reluctant to wear the outfit but I knew that he now was very grateful for having done what he'd been told. I sensed he was well aware that Rene might have spanked him.  Maybe even in public.  She was becoming that bold.

"Yes." he said softly.

By this time, I'd pulled the car to a stop and killed the engine. Mary had swept down on us as we got out of the car. "Oh my dears!" she said grandly. "How nice that you're finally here! Been looking forward to it for SUCH a long time." With that, she gave me a kiss - just a little   closer to the mouth and a little longer than propriety dictates, as I shuddered with pleasure, imagining the coming week, knowing full well that my husband was looking on – ineffectual and weak as always.

She turned to Charles. "Darling! How nice of you to come visit! What a pretty blouse! Is that your knitting? My, what a nice shade of pink!" She turned back to the two maids. "Rene! Look at how well Charles is doing. You've done WONDERS! But I'm sure you'll want to check out just how well he's done after he's all settled in, eh?"

Rene smiled widely and bobbed a graceful curtsey to Mary. "Oh it's Master Charles deserves the credit I'm sure ma'am. He's got a natural bent for it. But shall me and Liz here put the luggage away?"

"Yes. Very good Rene." Mary said vaguely. Then she put her arm around my shoulder and gave me a hug and asked me confidsentially. "You put your stuff in the green luggage? Charles stuff in the brown, like I suggested?"

I nodded. "Very good!" she said. Then turned to the maids. "Right girls. Green cases go up to my room. Brown ones to the spare room beside yours."

I was astounded with the implication in her words. Was there no end to this woman's audacity? Charles had been put in the maid's quarters! I was going to be sleeping with her! Openly! I actually wondered if Charles would object, but he just looked confused. Mary put her free arm around him. "Don't worry sweetie. All three of my maids are experienced tutors in my program. You've been making such wonderful progress with just Rene. I can't wait to see how you do with three mentors! And I'm moving Mary in with me for a very good reason. From what I've seen - and Rene agrees -  you still have some of this male 'possessiveness' problem. But just wait and see. By the time this week has gone by, you'll be over such nonsense and realize that Evelyn and me are just good friends with a lot to talk about.  You DO see what I mean – and agree, don't you?"

Dazedly, he took her words in – but nodded, as meek as a lamb.

Then, satisfied with her demonstrated control over him,  she pulled us forward. "C'mon you two. We'll go get a drink. I'm sure you want one after that drive." Then she turned back to the two serving girls. "Rene? When you're finished taking Evelyn's luggage up, leave the unpacking for Liz. Come down to the drawing room and you can check Charles progress on his knitting, eh? He can do his own unpacking later."

"Very good ma'am." Rene said, curtseying again.

Mary made us drinks. Bourbon for herself and me, a gin fizz for Charles. We sat down. Me beside her on the large ornate sofa, Charles on a comfy looking chair across from us. Mary put her arm around me, pulled me in closer. I laid my head on her shoulder.

"Is the light all right Charles?" Mary asked.

Charles was confused. Looked around. "Yes. I guess so. Don't exactly know what you mean?"

"For your knitting of course! Don't see why you should just have to sit here listening to two women chatter away. Or, maybe you think you don't need the practice?" There was just a slight note of threat in Mary's voice.

Charles picked up on it immediately. "Oh yes! I mean No! I mean, yes I DO need the practice." With that, he pulled his half finished bolero jacket out of his 'hobby' bag and rearranged himself in his chair. Started knitting. I saw him blush as he looked at us two.  Sitting there calmly accepting the powerful roles Mary and I were showing, while he took up his knitting – like any good little housewife.

I happily slid further into Mary's embrace. She kissed me on the lips. I returned the kiss avidly. It had been at least a week since I'd seen my lover and I started to pant with desire. But I was distracted a little by Rene coming into the room. She seemed to be carrying something quite bulky in white satin. I couldn't quite make it out. Looked almost like a jacket. I wondered what she was doing with it.

     

I soon found out. She went and stood in front of Charles. Was it my imagination, or did he cringe just a little? She held out a hand. "May I see your knitting dear?".

"Certainly Rene." My husband said, blushing as he handed it over.

Rene put the white bundle under one arm so that she could hold his knitting with both hands. Looked at it closely. "Just as I thought! you've done a wonderful job! Really nice. Your tension is just perfect, and these five rows of purl just phase into the standard rows without any signs of crossover. I knew you'd do a great job so brought a reward for you! Here. Isn't this pretty?" And she was holding out the satin smock, for that's what it was, to him.

I held my breath, but shouldn't have worried. He was red and shamefaced, that's true but, all the same he stood up and allowed Rene to put the woman's satin smock over his woman's blouse and lacy lingerie, then button him in. Made no complaint even when she pulled a bright pink chiffon scarf  from one of the large patch pockets (I noticed with amusement that it was a perfect match to his wool) and tied it around his neck finishing with a full, very feminine bow. Then he stood still as she fastened the cuffs of his long, bloused, sleeves with the pink buttons. Luckily, it was just large enough to cover his blouse sleeves.

Then she gently pushed him back into his chair and handed him back his knitting.

"There you ARE dear!" she said complacently. "And don't you worry about your wife or Mistress Mary saying a thing!  They DO make a lovely couple, don't they?  So nice together!"

He gave a quick, shamed, glance at his wife and her female lover then started working again at a slight signal from Rene, his needles clicking away merrily.

I was startled by Mary's clapping her hands loudly beside me. "Well done you two! Well done Charles! I guess you were right after all Rene. I surely didn't think that he would have reached this level of maturity so soon. You've done wonders!"

*     *     *

You may be wondering about this situation. A man sitting basically dressed in women's clothes. Knitting, under the direct supervision of a pretty young maid in full uniform. Directly across from him, his wife is reclining in the embrace of another woman, exchanging tender kisses and amorous touches. I guess I'd better explain....

Charles and I had been married for almost four years when boredom set in. I was a virgin when we got married and can't honestly say that sex with him turned me on. Wasn't bad. He was gentle and, to tell the truth, I'm sure he was a virgin as well. But it wasn't good either. Kinda boring. I was restless almost immediately.  He was rich. Had inherited a company after his parents had been killed when their corporate jet crashed. Picked up a lot of insurance money and, when a defect was found in the plane, added an out of court settlement to the not inconsiderable pile he had.

I did the usual things. Joined the country club. Did a little coke - but really didn't care for it that much. Wasn't into drugs that much.  Shopped. Took classes in oil painting and water coloring. Did volunteer work at the local library. All sorts of volunteer activities. Then I met Mary.

I'd heard a few of the 'set' that I hung about with talk about her. Nothing negative, no raves either - but a sort of 'in-thing' between women who'd gone to her for advice. Just the way they'd smile at each other, as if there was some special secret when her name was brought up. I also thought that she was a smashing looking woman, so as my interest was piqued, I checked around even more.

She wasn't a psychologist, or licensed in marriage counseling or things like that. "Just gives advice to married couples" was the most common description I could get from past customers of hers. But their secret grins were meant to tell me something, I thought. My problem was that sexually I was a neophyte, but knew that I looked much more sophisticated than I truly was – couldn't ask anyone what they meant. Knew there was no other way. I finally made an appointment with her.

Her house wasn't anywhere near our league, I thought driving my 600SL Benz up her driveway. At the same time, I felt strangely nervous at meeting this woman alone. Strangely sexual. Felt my privates getting warm and creamy. I'd met her at a few of the club affairs but only in passing. Dark. Fairly tall. Deep voice for a woman. Dressed well. Nothing ostentatious. Confident in herself.  Nervously I wondered what she'd think of me.   She came out to meet me, all calm and matter of fact.

Within a half hour I had the school girl crush to end all school girl crushes. She blew me away - without so much as one single attempt to come on to me. As a matter of fact we talked about Charles more than anything else.

We had a half-hour scheduled. At the end of it she cut it off quickly. I was hurt and wanted to continue. She just calmly refused - something I'd forgotten could happen to me. Told me that the first half hour was free, but she'd use what I told her if and when I requested further analysis. I asked what her rate was for the next appointment. She first told me that her sessions were a minimum of one hour - then the hourly charge.

Charles gave me an almost unlimited budget, but her rate took my breath away. "Woooo!" I said. "You MUST be good!  Damned good!"

"Yes, I am." She said simply. "Want to make an appointment?"

By our third session we were lovers. I was mad at her for charging me her standard rates, but she just shrugged. "You can afford it dearie. If you want to meet at night with me we can do it socially for free, though not very often - but you can't expect me to give up time when I could be working on paying clients. I've got a large nut with the office in town, my apartment, and my country place. Any idea of what I pay my maids for Christ's sake?"

I was so infatuated that I could only agree. Her house was incredible – and herv maids were like those you'd see in a movie. WOW!

My poor husband just became an obstacle in the way of me getting to the woman I wanted to be with day and night. I became short and nasty with him. Openly scornful at times. Strangely, he didn't seem to mind. Just kept coming back for more. One night he was off on a short business trip and I had Mary come visit. Lying in bed after some serious contact, I snuggled into her side. "Maybe we could just kill him for the insurance?"

She fondled my left breast lazily. "Oh c'mon girl. You sound like a cheap novel. KILL! INSURANCE! Don't need to do anything like that. There's easier ways to get him out of the way.  Get any money that's involved.  Don't need to make criminals of ourselves either!"

"What are you talking about?" I said snidely. "Divorce, American style? He never DOES anything! Especially other women! Damned wimp! And you can bet he'd have the best lawyers that money can buy. I'd get nothing worthwhile."

Mary propped herself up on one arm. Leaned over and gave me a long, lazy kiss. I stroked her thigh. "Knock it off," she laughed. "I've got work to do."

I pouted. "Didn't answer my question, did you?"

She slid her hand over my tummy. Gave me a circular rub. I purred.

"Get him in to see me as a client." She said lightly. "That's ONE way.  You'll get all of his money, get me - and all it'll cost you is my fees."

I laughed sardonically. "Yeah. Sure!"

She shrugged. "Trust me. Easy. I've been analyzing what makes him tick since you came to see me the first time. Got a program will have him eating out of your pretty little hand in no time - well - maybe seven or eight months."

 I truthfully thought she was full of it. As a matter of fact, I just started nagging Charles to go see this 'wonder woman' to embarrass her. Take her down a peg. Make her eat her words.

At the beginning, he laughed at me. "Nothing wrong with us, eh? Why waste my time?"

But I whined and pouted. Argued. Pouted. Whined. Pouted. And finally he gave in. He came back from the first session impressed. I could tell. Of course, I was on the phone to Mary the next day to find out what had transpired. Wasn't expecting none of this therapist - client privacy bullshit she started handing me. Hell, she wasn't a real professional either! But damned if she would tell me!

"You're just too impatient sweetie." She told me. "I'll let you know what's going on when it's time. Trust me, it won't be too long."

And she was true to her word. After two months she started letting me listen in on some of their recorded sessions. Damned if I know how she did it. Some hypnotism? Maybe, I don't know - but she spun a verbal web around that poor man until he didn't know which side was up. Actually convinced him that, deep down, he was some sort of raving macho monster. HAD to learn to control this beast. Needed to find his true, gentle, central self. And - the poor S.O.B. agreed!

It took about another two months for him to sign over the running of the company to me - an act of faith, is how he described it. I smiled happily.

  

Mary had convinced him that his mantra (almost) had to be "Weakness" "Obedience" and "Enthusiasm" (for her program, of course), and that it was almost impossible for him to get to the proper mental levels if he was constantly managing people and telling them what to do. Naturally, he gave up his job.

At that point, Rene was brought on board as his full time tutor.

She was about sizes with him, but wiry and athletic. He felt strange about having his tutor double as a maid in our house, but it was explained - at length - that his 'conversion' to the light would be aided by him being 'supervised' (everybody laughed here) by what was generally considered to be one of the most feminine pursuits, a housemaid.

I wasn't any too happy about the arrangement either. I knew that the program called for Charles to be gradually brought to heel, and thought it would be a lot of fun for me to do.

One particular afternoon in bed with Mary, I must have argued a little too much. I didn't know what was happening until I found myself prone over her knees, getting a light spanking. I was indignant at first, but then surprised myself by getting sexually aroused, rubbing my tummy against her knees, letting out little squeals. The sex that followed was very satisfying.

"Look sweetie." she explained as I brushed her hair for her afterwards. "This girl, Rene, is good. One of my best. She's experienced at what needs doing, but knows how to be flexible if need be. I'm not saying you couldn't do it, but a mistake on the tutors part here could set us back for months, maybe screw the deal up forever. Understand?"

"Oh yes Mary." I said, feeling chastened.

"Great. Now be a good girl and bring my dress over from the chair there, she commanded me." Happily, I went and did as she asked. I just LOVED doing things for her.

So Rene joined Charles and I. I soon saw what Mary had meant. Rene had an engaging personality and a beautiful smile. Wore a fresh uniform every day – and such uniforms: satins, taffetas, linens, and laces; all sorts of materials worked into extremely feminine garments. Always covered by pristine white aprons, and her hair collected in an assortment of matching caps and ribbons.

Inside, she was spring steel. In practically no time at all, my husband was her meek apprentice. Followed her around like a little pet. He soon was taught his mantra 'W.O.E' (Weakness, Obedience, Enthusiasm) and said it on command as if it explained the mystery of the universe.

I discovered a couple of bonuses I hadn't thought of. He now seemed to need her 'permission' to get out of the house - and she wasn't exactly generous with it either. I once heard him practically in  tears asking why he couldn't go out and get a haircut.

"Because I don't want you to go out, that's why. Anyway, I can do a much better job on your hair.  Remind me to do it this afternoon and? Don't you have some ironing to do?"

I didn't hear his mumbled reply, but that evening, his hair looked quite feminine. He blushed when I complimented him. So I now found it much easier to get away if Mary had a cancellation or wanted a bit of my company. Rene also had him buy, and use, a strong smelling Swedish depilatory - expensive as all hell. He'd never needed to shave that much so I felt it was un-necessary, but after a few weeks he was as smooth as a baby - all over.

She had been with us for about a month when I first really noticed what was happening to him. Truthfully, she probably impacted on him the first day, but the changes she introduced were so gradual that I just didn't notice - though I did have other things on my mind, as I explained above.

He HAD become weak. I could see it in his posture. He was soft in shape and smelled vaguely of some Estee Lauder skin treatment that Rene favored. He had always been obedient before - I've explained that, but now it was as if he was waiting for me to tell him what to do - or even Rene, I noticed.

Over that month, I'd got a notion of how the program worked. To be weak, obedient, and enthusiastic (in doing what he was told) was GOOD. To be otherwise was to be masculine - or BAD. If he was good, he was rewarded by getting something feminine to do or wear. If he was naughty (yes, I heard Rene call him that more than once) he was BAD, and punished accordingly. The funny thing was that this kind of 'punishment' was physical at first. I'm pretty sure she had him over her knees quite soon after her arrival - I saw him red-eyed a few times.

One night I was lying in bed reading a book. It was about ten o'clock. He'd been getting ironing lessons from Rene I thought. I heard a knock on the door. "Yes? Who is it?" I called out.

"It's me. Charles." I heard.

"Well, what are you doing out there you ninny! Come in!"

And the door opened, and my husband walked in. Though few people would have guessed he was anybody's husband. A teal satin nightdress, clung to him covered by a chiffon peignoir to match. His hair, quite long now, tied loosely with a matching chiffon tie. Green eye shadow. Mascara. Lipstick - scarlet. Green slippers on dainty little feet.

I almost burst out laughing. Not so much at his appearance - to tell the truth, I was shocked at how pretty he was. It was the woeful expression on his face that was so laughable. Inwardly, I cursed Rene for not warning me about what she was going to do to him, but I managed to pull it off.

"MY! How pretty you are! You must have been especially good for Rene! Were you?" I used the same sort of tone you'd use to a little girl.

He caught the implication. Blushed. "Yes. She said I'd been very good all day, and had learned to iron lingerie very quickly. She let me wear this stuff tonight.." his fingers plucked nervously at the skirt of his robe,   ".. as a reward."

 "Well, that was very nice of her, wasn't it?" I asked.

 "Yeah. Well, I guess so." he replied evasively.

"Is that a bust line I see?" I asked, smiling.

"Yes. She put some tissues inside my bra cups."

"Oh, you're wearing a bra? Like it?"

"I'm not very used to it. I guess so."

 "Wearing panties to match the bra?" I asked. He didn't answer. Just blushed a fiery red. I pulled the rope pull at the side of the bed to summon Rene, then turned my attention back to him. "Lift the skirt of your gown up. Let me see your panties."

He'd seen me pull the bell-pull for Rene, and a nervous expression flashed across his face, but slowly, using both hands, he pulled the hems of his gown and peignoir up until the lace edges of panties became clearly visible. "Very nice Charles. Very pretty indeed. Just stay like that for a moment please." I made him stand there, holding his gown up until Rene came in to the room.

She smiled at Charles, then curtsied to me. "Isn't she pretty ma'am? She was SO good today, I thought I'd reward him by calling him 'her' and letting her wear the nice clothes that real women wear."

"Maybe so Rene. But I'm not sure HE deserves that honor!" I snapped.

"Why ever not ma'am?"

"Well, you rewarded him, did you not?" I asked.

"Yes ma'am."

"Gave him these nice things to wear, made him pretty? Sent him up to me so that I could see how cute he looked?"

"Yes ma'am?   But I don't understand."

"Isn't ENTHUSIASM on of the things you were hired to teach him?"

"Oh yes ma'am. Absolutely!"

"Let's see then. Does this sound like enthusiasm to  you? Especially after you going to all these pains to reward him?" And, verbatim, I recounted the conversation between Charles and myself since he'd come in the room.

Before I'd even finished, she'd walked to him and taken him by the arm. Started leading him over to a chair. "You've been a very bad - a very naughty BOY!" As she passed the dressing table, she picked up a long handled hairbrush.

And my weak little husband gave me a bonus! "Please!  Please don't spank me in front of my wife!"  He pleaded, then actually started struggling against her. Oh, it was such fun to watch! He was obviously no match for her, but continued to make futile attempts to get out of her grasp, panting and making little girlish gasps and squeals.

Rene saw that I was enjoying the scene, so prolonged it, playing with him by letting him almost break free, pretending to be having difficulty, then reeling him in again, an amused smile on her face all the while.

I can't remember whether it was Rene or myself who broke and started giggling first, but the two of us were soon almost helpless with laughter at the sight of this helpless little man, totally enclosed in women's nightwear, totally incapable of breaking away from someone smaller than himself - and a woman to boot! At that point, he started to cry and gave up completely - actually helping to position himself across Rene's knees. He cried even harder by the time she'd finished giving him six resounding smacks on his backside.

Then she showed me how the elements of the program could be worked. She kept him face down over her knee, but started now to caress his soft little rump lovingly. She winked broadly at me. "I know you must be very disappointed in my performance, Mistress Evelyn but there's one positive improvement that I feel I should point out."

 "And that is?" I asked the question coldly, but grinned at her in anticipation.

"Well, Mr. Charles being a man is, naturally, much stronger than myself..." Here she had to put her hand to her mouth to suppress the laughter, so I helped her out by talking and giving her time to recover.

"Yes." I said. "That is a given. Men are always stronger than women. What is your point?"

"If Mr. Charles is stronger than me, but just let me spank him as if he were a little girl, then he's demonstrating that he's at least learning to act weakly - just as the program says."

"Yes?" I hadn't a clue where she was going with this.

She continued. "That's a very important thing for him to have learned, and I think that's it's only fair that he should be rewarded.  With your permission Mistress, of course. Wouldn't that be fair, Mr. Charles?"

I don't think that Charles had any intention of arguing any point that the woman who held him over her knee, espoused. He nodded his head vigorously.

Here, she saw the puzzlement in my eyes. Put a finger to her lips to keep me silent. "So," she continued, "I think I'll let him wear a pretty skirt! ALL day tomorrow!  Think you can be happy about that Mr. Charles?"

"Oh yes Rene!  Thank you!"

"That's a good girl!" she said.  Off to bed now!"

And my little sissy husband came to bed in his satin nightdress. Soft. Smooth. Scented. I actually found myself quite aroused. Took him in my arms and kissed and fondled him as if her were a girl as Rene slowly left the room. I told him how pretty he was. Kissed his lipsticked mouth. Had him discuss with me the merits of what skirt he 'wanted' to wear the following day. Complimented him on how well he was doing with the program. Finally, to my own surprise, couldn't resist. Pulled his nightie up, his panties down, then mounted him for an enjoyable little ride.

And over a fairly short period of time I saw the changes take place at an accelerating rate. He'd graduated to panties on a permanent basis, but more and more often I'd see him in something else - a skirt or blouse. In an apron, giving Rene a helping hand. High heels. Perfume. Makeup. Jewelry. A little maid's cap - if he'd been ESPECIALLY good.

I found myself enjoying his advancing femininity. Made him show me how he'd learned to apply makeup properly. How he could put on nylons without poking holes in them - and keep the seams perfectly straight. How well he could walk in high - extremely high - heels. Started liking to have him work on my hair. (He was clumsy at first, but soon learned what I like). Enjoyed his growing expertise at talking and acting like a young girl. Could not believe how skilled he became at making minor, delicate, repairs to my sheerest undies.

But I also noticed another change. I think it started to dawn on him that he was not totally in favor of giving up ALL of his masculine traits. Unfortunately for the poor dear he had, by this time, given Rene all of the power she needed to dominate him. I don't know what transpired between them, but all of a sudden, the feminine items he wore were kind of nasty – sluttish, cheap and tawdry.

This got obvious enough for me to discuss it with Mary at one of her increasing visits. She smiled. "Rene's punishing him for not being 'good'. Making him ashamed of 'cheap' femininity, making 'nice' femaleness more desirable. Just wait and see, he'll get over it." And she was absolutely right. A week or so later, he was back to 'pretty' things - and behavior - again. Mind you, he didn't seem quite as contented as he had been, but I felt that was his problem.

On the subject of Mary's visits? That was really something else. She made it obvious, quickly, that her interest in me went beyond the normal female, or even platonic, bounds. The first time she kissed me openly, even Charles reacted.

"Eh? Mary? What are you doing?" he said.

Mary shook her head in pretended puzzlement. "Saying hi to Evelyn. What do you think?"

He licked his lips nervously. "To tell the truth Mary? It looked an awful more than just saying 'hi'."

Her eyes got cold. "Are you implying that there was something more than friendship in the way I kissed her?"

He didn't back down. "Yes. If the truth be known. It looked like an awful lot more."

She walked towards him in an openly challenging manner. "Do you realize how possessive you sound? Like a MAN? (Oozing scorn). Realize how much you're offending Evelyn – as well as me?"

He was losing confidence, that was obvious. Nevertheless, he spoke again. "Well. She IS my wife you know."

Mary smiled. "Evelyn my dear? Charles seems to look upon you as some kind of personal property. Want to comment on that? How's about a friendly kiss?"

I shot Charles a nasty glance. Went back into Mary's embrace and kissed her firmly on the lips. Held it for quite a while. When we broke for air, I saw Rene leading Charles away.

That night, Mary informed him that a major part of his re-structuring would entail special exercises to rid himself of this 'awful' masculine trait of possessiveness. She then showed her dominance over him by inviting herself into our bed that night, and taking me into her arms.  Made love to me – all the while asking him if he had any objections – any objections at ALL?" After that, he didn't make any comments about our friendship.

And that friendship grew. I was more and more devoted to Mary with each episode of lovemaking we had. It was if I had lost any form of personal pride. All I wanted to do was be with her. Look after her needs - all of them, sexual and otherwise. I just adored doing little things. Running her bath, brushing her hair, looking out her clothes. I was happiest doing things for her - doing as she told me.

I discovered that I had a real need for her to dominate me. Squirmed in delight when she'd spank me. One time when Rene had Charles out for a walk - at Mary's suggestion - I discovered that I could fit into one of Rene's uniforms . I had such  FUN playing at being her maid.

I also signed over all of my property and belongings to her, Charles interest in his company included. "It'll be a test of your love for me." Mary claimed. "Show just how much you trust me."

I'll admit I did feel some trepidation, but I got such a lovely warm feeling inside, knowing that (even though she'd NEVER take advantage of me) I was totally under the control of this marvelous woman. A few weeks later, giggling and laughing, I signed sheet after sheet of paper in front of her attorney and two witnesses, admitting that I totally understood that Mary now controlled all of the assets from my marriage, and that the only way I could regain them was for her to voluntarily pass them back to me.

Not long after that, Rene told me that Charles was just about ready. She said that a concentrated training for a week or two at 'Mistress Mary's country cottage would finish the program. Frankly, I couldn't see why such a thing would be necessary: my husband had become the next best thing to a girlfriend to me, more in dresses and skirts than out of them. But the idea of a period of time like that with Mary was just too attractive. Happily, I agreed...

*     *     *

I woke from my short reverie, Charles was still busy at his knitting. He just looked so cute! But then I noticed that Rene wasn't in front of him any more. Not in the room anywhere. "Where's Rene?" I asked Mary. She smiled across at me. "My! We must have lost you for a little while. I sent her to get Bobbi and Liz. This way, Charles will get to meet all of his tutors at the same time. Get him back into the program. As a matter of fact, here the girls come now. Charles? You can stop your knitting for the time being. Put it back in your bag. Meet your new tutors. The blonde is Liz. The redhead is Bobbi."

Charles stood to meet the new girls. They were pretty, very much in the size and style of Rene. Smiling, they walked over to him. "How do you do Charles?" they chorused.

I knew he was embarrassed at meeting new people, especially when he was wearing women's clothes, but he smiled pleasantly. "Very nice to meet you girls." he replied and held out his hand to Bobbi.

She didn't make any attempt to take it. Just stared at him. "My goodness Rene!" Mary said sharply. "I thought he'd know how to meet people properly by now?"

"I'm sorry ma'am..." Rene started, bobbing a quick curtsey. "But.."

"Hold your tongue girl!" Mary snapped. " Charles? I want your full attention! Look at me!"

A frightened look crossed his face as he turned. "Yes Mary?" he said, a faint tremble discernible in his voice.

"Charles? From this point on? I am 'Mistress Mary'."  She hugged me close to her.  "This young lady beside me is 'Mistress Evelyn'. These other ladies are 'Miss Rene, Liz, and Bobbi respectively. When you talk to ANY of us, or we talk to you, you will take the sides of your smock, apron, dress, skirt - whatever you are wearing and will curtsey prettily to us. Do you understand?"

His mouth actually trembled as he said " Yes.. I mean Yes Mistress Mary.." Then he added "I'm sorry Mistress Mary, I forgot.." and my effete husband took the sides of his smock in his hands and dropped a pretty curtsey to her.

"I'll forgive you this time. But please don't forget again." she said nicely. "Now? Greet your tutors properly." And he curtsied to each grinning girl in turn.

"OK girls, you can take him away and start now." Mary said. And Charles shot me a despairing glance as he disappeared from the room in the middle of the three giggling girls.

Mary and I had a very pleasant dinner that evening. It was served up by Liz in a pretty dark maroon uniform. When I asked how Charles was progressing, she informed me that though he was a very promising student, they didn't think he was quite ready to serve meals yet.

Later on that evening as I was changing the channel on the TV, I thought I caught a glimpse of him in a rather plain black maids uniform, moving a tray of dirty dishes from the dining room, but I couldn't be sure. It looked like a very heavy load for the poor little thing.

Over the next few days, I think they deliberately kept him away from me, but I kept getting little glimpses. One time, I saw him running down a hallway - at least if you could call what he was doing running, hobbled as he was in a long, tight, satin sheath dress - in high heels to boot. Less than a minute later, I came across Rene and Bobbi looking behind some chairs in the drawing room, grinning, whistling, and calling out for Patricia.  It looked like a fun  game of hide and seek, but I didn't recollect his face showing any fun at all, though with all of the makeup he had on, it might have been difficult to tell.

Another time, I saw him playing in a foursome on the tennis court. I had to smile. He was wearing one of the most ridiculously feminine little tennis dresses I'd ever seen. White of course, but with layers and layers of frills and tulle and organza. Pink satin ribbons and bows intertwined all over the dress. A large satin ribbon tied onto his hair. What made this scene particularly funny was the fact that the girls – the 'other' girls I should say - were dressed in plain cut-offs and 't' shirts.(I must admit it. His level of tennis playing fitted perfectly with his clothes. Soft, weak, and girlish with lots of little squeals and giggles at missed shots).

The girls must have been in a sports frame of mind that day. Later on, I saw them out on the lawn playing croquet. The others wore jeans and sweatshirts. He was wearing a bright blue mini skirt and a gold lame halter top. Something struck me as being strange. Then it dawned on me.

"I don't think he's wearing a bra. Looks as if he's all bouncy and jiggling." I said to Mary.

"He's probably not wearing a bra. And I should hope he's jiggling." She replied. "Just got some breast forms that I'd had custom made for him yesterday."

"Wow!" I said, "they look almost real!"

"For four thousand dollars, they should." She replied.

"Four THOUSAND? My God Mary, you're generous." Then it dawned on me. "Probably MY money." I said, more snidely than I meant. But Mary just laughed and gave me a hug. "You don't HAVE any money, honey. I got it all. Remember?" We both laughed.

The following day, I went into the library to look for a book. Got quite a surprise. Rene, Bobbi, and Liz were all sitting chatting away contentedly. Charles, however, was over Bobbi's knees, his skirt and slip pulled up while she spanked him. I say spanked, but it was more like dainty little slaps, followed by circular caresses on his satin covered ass. It was as if she was talking to friends and, say, patting a dog at the same time - not giving too much attention to it.

"Oh I'm sorry." I said. "Didn't mean to interrupt. I can get it later."

"Oh, you're not interrupting anything special Miss Evelyn. Please just go ahead." Liz said. And, during the ten or fifteen minutes I was there, he would be told to move and he'd get up, walk to the next girl. Lift his skirts and position himself over her lap. He never looked at me in any of his moves. I did notice there though that his ears    had now been pierced and that he was wearing darling pearl drop earrings.

Before I left I walked over to where He was prone over Rene's knees. Talked down to him.  "Your training going alright Charles?"

"Oh yes, Evelyn" He mumbled.

"MISS Evelyn Patricia!" Bobbi said sharply, giving a hard slap on his pink panties.

"Oh!  I'm sorry Miss Evelyn," he wailed. "I forgot!"

"That's all right – what's your name now - Patricia?" I crooned, reaching forward and fondling the lace on his panties. "I just love your panties dear!" then I giggled and left.

Mary sprung the news on me that we were going away for a week starting the coming Saturday, just the two of us. A cruise on a friends yacht. She read the question in my eyes. "Oh Charles is going to graduate from the program on Friday night. I figured we can sort of sit in on the 'ceremony' .." here, she giggled. "..and take off the next day. After all, we've ALL had a lot of work to do in this program. Time we had a bit of fun."

"But Charles? What about him?" I asked.

She looked at me strangely. "I'm pretty sure the girls will find something for him to do." she said seriously, then grinned a little.

"But Saturday. That's only two days from now. I'll need clothes and..." I started to sputter.  She shut me up by putting a finger over my mouth. "Hush darling. I've bought a whole new set of outfits for you. You'll LOVE them. trust me.."

"But dear..?"

"Be a good little girl and shut up.. OK?" she said firmly.

I snuggled into her. "I'm sorry darling." I said meekly.

That night, Liz and 'Patricia' came to be our personal maids and help us get ready for dinner. Charles - Patricia - looked lovely in a uniform that matched the maroon one Liz had worn earlier in the week. His hair was now tucked up into a lacy mob cap with a tiny maroon bow. His - her makeup was just right. She was very deferential, helping with my hair, running my bath. It felt very strange, but nice, having someone who'd once been my husband, bathe and dress me. I giggled after I'd dismissed her.

"Did you like his uniform?" Mary asked me. "Oh yes. it was very nice." I answered. "Thought you might." Mary said, a strange smile on her face.

Patricia served dinner that evening. Again, her behavior was exemplary. The following day was to be her 'graduation' but I was told not to inform 'her'. It was to be a surprise.

I didn't see Charles the following day until he served dinner.  Mary and I were deep in a conversation so I didn't get a chance to talk to him. After dinner though, Mary suggested we take a short stroll through the house. "The girls would be MOST disappointed if we didn't make a token appearance." she said.

A short time later, we strolled down the corridor, arm in arm, carrying our drinks in our free hands. As we approached Rene's room we saw what appeared to be light flashes and heard what appeared to be the murmur of voices so paused and looked in through the open door.

All the girls were there. Liz, Bobbi, and Rene. The three were out of their uniforms again. It dawned on me that in the last few days, Charles was the only one I'd seen in a uniform regularly.  Liz and Bobby were wearing floating lounging apparel, pretty and feminine. Rene was in black leather pants and matching halter.

My husband was there - in a most compromising, or should I say 'compromised' position. He was in the process of kneeling forward onto the top of a chest which stood at the bottom of Rene's bed. She stood behind him, one hand on his shoulder gently forcing him forward and downwards so that his knees would rest on the top of the chest. Bobbi was sitting, legs astraddle on the bed, holding her hands out towards him.

The flashes of light were explained by Liz walking around taking snapshots of what was going on with her camera, extolling Charles - or should I say Patricia - to "Smile nicely now, there's a dear!" and making friendly comments to Rene at the same time.

Charles was wearing bright red, satin bra and camisole. Black nylons showed just beneath a long, bouffant, jet black half slip, heavily layered  with lace ruffles at the hem.

Rene noticed us entering the room and flashed us a welcoming smile, but continued with what she was doing. As we watched, she took hold of the hem of his slip and reversed it up over his arched back so it was now covering up to his shoulders and part of his head, while disclosing the two soft white globes of his rear end, quivering underneath the lace hem of his scarlet panties. His matching garter straps were taut, the seams of his stockings going down in perfectly straight lines into the high heeled shoes he wore.

"That's a girl, princess." Rene was saying. "Won't be long now. Just take hold of Bobbi's hands. She'll make sure you don't slip. Spread your knees - just a tad more - there! That's a good girl!"

He must have sensed our presence, because his face turned to look at us standing in the doorway. A look of hope flashed into his eyes, then was replaced almost immediately as tears filled them, once he was fully aware that we were there simply as spectators, rather than rescuers..

His hair was a few shades lighter now, or may just have looked that way, framed by some of the black lacy ruffles from his half slip. Not quite peroxide blonde, but close. It seemed longer too, not shoulder length but long enough to show soft waves, loosely tied with a scarlet ribbon to match his undies.

While I inspected him, at Liz's laughing direction, Bobbi reached one of her hands forward and framed his face even more with the lace hem of his slip. Obediently, he smiled weakly for Liz as she took another photograph – of him looking like a girl in a mantilla now.

His eyes were heavily made up. The eyebrows had been plucked to fine dark lines, but false, heavily mascara'd eyelashes and iridescent blue eyeliner served to make him appear extremely theatrical, though his doe-like eyes clearly showed his vulnerability. His lips seemed huge, heavily covered in slick appearing scarlet lipstick to match the rest of his ensemble. His cheeks were rouged to an extreme degree.

He also wore chunky matching jewelry consisting of a scarlet ball necklace which hung down jangling against his real-looking breasts. Matching bracelets garlanded is wrists and one ankle - and long dangling earrings were partially visible inside his slip hem. Even crouched the way he was, still and practically immobile, the sounds of the cheap jewelry stones 'clacking' together were easy to hear.

I was shocked. The girls had made my husband into the closest thing resembling a debauched whore that I could imagine. Luckily, I was able to hide this.

Mary must have guessed what I was thinking, because she tugged gently on my arm. "Maybe we should just go? Freshen our drinks?"

"Just a minute darling." I said, starting to giggle a little. " Charles? You must have been awfully naughty. Yes?" I knew I was being a bitch. Just couldn't help it.

He wailed. "I wasn't naughty. I've been GOOD!"

Bobbi spoke to me with a voice full of mocking sincerity. "Of course Patricia was being good. VERY good! This is her REWARD!" She turned her attention back to Patricia. "Patricia? Are you saying that you don't LOVE this reward? That me and miss Liz and miss Rene are wasting our time? Is that what you're saying?"

A gasp of fear escaped him. "Oh no miss Bobbi! That isn't what I was saying. Honest!"

"Very good!" she replied. "You're perfectly happy then?" He paused, just for a split second.

"Yes miss Bobbi. Perfectly happy." he whimpered.

As he said this, I saw Rene pull down the black leather pants she wore, then take something from the top of the bed. "Just a minute now princess."  She taunted my husband.

I couldn't see what she had done, because her back was to us now with her front close into his rear, but I saw her slowly hook a finger into the waistband of his panties and pull them slowly down to around his knees. Then down along his legs, then off.  "Legs just a teeny bit wider now princess. That's a girl. Open up for Rene. There, that's it!"

Practically crowing, she advanced on him, embracing him around the waist from the back. He let out a whimper. She  twisted away and back from him and gave him a short stinging slap on his bare backside. "Obedience!  Weakness! Enthusiasm! You're not forgetting, are you? I mean you're weak and obedient. But where's the enthusiasm, huh?"

"I'm sorry, mistress Rene."

He had faced away from us again but I heard his voice, muffled by his petticoat which she'd pushed even further up his back so that it was now almost totally over his head.

 "Good! He's about to become a perfect man!" Bobbi gloated.

"Just about." Rene laughed agreeably, moving in extremely close now, twisting him a little to give us a clearer view.

As Rene had twisted, I'd seen the bulge at her front. It looked awfully large. She then did something to his anus, and I realized that she was lubricating him! Next thing, she re-positioned herself until the tip of the dildo was at his back passage, then I saw it inserted slowly. Rene was finally mounting him, smiling at us as she made him a woman, the dildo disappearing into him inch by inch as she did so. He was squealing softly and piteously now – like a little pussy, I thought.

Mary must have seen my expression. "C'mon honey." she said. "I can sense how you feel, but this is something that just has to get done - and you can't make an omelet without bursting a few eggs, can you?"

"I guess not." I said, grinning, then strolled down the hall again with my friend, finding it almost impossible to ignore the squeaks, squeals, and sobbing that started coming from the room behind us. "Ride her, cowboy!" I heard Liz yell. And then the laughter from the three women drowned out the cries of the man - woman now - who'd been my husband.

Mary and I had a very satisfactory night. At her suggestion, we retired upstairs early. "Let the girls have a little fun, without having to worry about us." she said.

About midnight, I thought I did hear some girlish, bleating and squeals waft from downstairs, but couldn't be sure, though it did sound awfully like Charles. I wondered if I should go and maybe get the girls to back off a little.  Decided against it. Turned over and cuddled into Mary's  back, Breathed a big sigh of sleepy happiness.

The following morning, I got a shock. Liz brought us breakfast in bed. She looked very tired but happily replete. After we ate, I showered. When I got back to the bedroom the first of my 'outfits' from Mary was laid out on the bed. I picked it up and had to giggle. A beautiful French maid's uniform. Gleaming black satin, short full skirt. A gorgeous multi-layered petticoat, and the loveliest little lace apron and cap you ever saw! Black net stockings and extremely high heeled shoes.

"Oooh! This is lovely! But you can't expect ME to wear this. C'mon Mary!" I giggled uneasily.

"Of course you can sweetie. Why don't you just try it on? Then, if you don't like it... ?"

I couldn't resist it. Put all the clothes on. They felt absolutely wonderful. I twirled happily in front of her. "But you really don't want me to wear this, surely. What will your friends think?"

She took me into her arms, ran her hand up under my skirt.  Felt the moisture seeping through my panties already. "Why, that you're the prettiest little maid-companion that any woman could possibly want. That's what they'll think."

I sighed happily, but had to comment. "Ok. But just for today. Right?"

She gave me what I was starting to recognize as her 'Power Look'. "No darling. You'll wear it today - and any other day I tell you. Not only that? I bought a lot more uniforms for you, just as nice .."

"But?.." I started.

"Evelyn! Don't argue! There's three words you better learn

quickly. "Weakness, Obedience, and Enthusiasm! What are they? Quick now!"

     

Meekly, I repeated them.

"Better not forget them dear," she said. "Or I might just give you to Rene and have HER put YOU through the program."

Just then, I heard a car horn beep. "That's for us honey." She said, taking my arm.

"But my makeup?" I bleated.

"Put it on in the car." she said, and hustled me out of the room and downstairs. There, a surprise happened for two people. Patricia - and ME!

My husband looked at me, and I looked at him. Both in identical maid's uniforms. He looked exhausted, but really pretty now. No one in the world would have ever thought that he'd been a man at any time.

Then Bobbi and Liz went and stood, one on each side of him. Each reached to the side and lifted his skirts and petticoat up at the back, then put a proprietary hand under his skirt and placed it on his closest buttock. The two of them stood, enclosing him, and the significance was obvious. These girls 'owned' Patricia now and showed every intention of exercising that ownership.

As I stood there, open mouthed, I felt Mary come and stand directly beside me. Then, from nowhere, Rene was standing on my other side. Suddenly, but smoothly, both lifted the back of my uniform skirt and placed a warm hand directly on my backside. Mary spoke to the group in front of us.

"I want you girls, especially YOU Patricia, to work hard while I'm gone. Have some fun of course, but make sure that the room for your friend Evelyn is ready by the time we get back. When we do, Rene will be Patricia's mistress, and I will be Evelyn's. Patricia and Evelyn? We may give you two to Bobbi and Liz later on, if you don't behave."

All three girls in front of us curtsied, Patricia deeply, the other two just enough for appearances. But while doing so I saw both Liz and Bobbi make little smiling and inviting "kissy" mouths at ME!

I knew then what I'd done. Both my husband and myself were now totally powerless, without money, without pride. Low caste servants. For the moment, he belonged to the girls bracketing him, while I was owned, body and soul (for the present) by the woman who stood beside me. At the same    time, I felt a passive relief at knowing that my days of making decisions were just about over. Then I saw Patricia slowly mouth the words: "Evelyn - help me! Please help me!"

Stupid bitch, I thought, but had sense to realize that by the look of things, she and I might be spending a lot of time together in the future. It was clearly possible that I might be needing some favors from her - and I had the feeling that a personal maid might need all the friends she could get. So? I put on a sorrowful face, shook my head a little and mouthed back. "I can't."

The End