Wednesday, 30 June 2010

The Office Worker 2030 - Part Two

Justin stood in the centre of the room, feeling foolish. He was wearing a red basque, a black suspender belt, fishnet stockings, black stilettos and a black lace thong that did an inadequate job of hiding his most intimate area. His lithe body moved hesitantly.

"Get on with it!" a strident female voice commanded him. It was Lucille Robson, his new boss of two weeks.

Steeling himself, Justin mounted the built up stage and grasped the shiny metal pole that rose up from the platform and began to spin around on it, as he had been taught by a male acquaintance of Lucille's, who worked as a poledancer and lapdancer for discerning lady clients.

The audience of five females whooped appreciatively as Justin went through his routine, spinning faster and faster. Justin shut his mind off and danced mindlessly. The noise and drunken tributes from the women grew louder in his ears.

Finally, the dance was over and a dizzy Justin, wobbling on his high stilettos, did his best to curtsey prettily, as Lucille had instructed him, earning him some titters from his female audience. He went to put on his dress but Lucille was not satisfied.

"You call that a curtsey, boy?" she bellowed, for she had imbibed heavily over the course of the evening and her wrinkled face had gone red. She marched over to him and ordered "Bend over boy!". Justin, terrified, had no option but to obey and bent over until he could see the tips of his stilettos. He felt Lucille's chubby hands pulling at his thong and yanking it down until it fluttered down to Justin's shapely ankles. He was humiliated at being exposed to a group of women like this, his bare bottom on full display. The women giggled like schoolgirls.

As he expected, he felt a sudden pain as an implement, probably a hairbrush was applied to the cheeks of his bottom causing him to cry out in pain. Lucille, in full swing, beat his bottom vigourously, to the delight of her girlfriends, making Justin shriek in pain and forcing tears to his eyes.

Lucille managed nine blows, but was too drunk and exhausted to deliver any more. Out of breath, she gestured for Justin to replace his thong. Justin, in tears, pulled up his underwear, grabbed his dress and fled, the laughter of women ringing in his ears.

He got to the bedroom Lucille allowed him to use. It had once been the maid's room and was tiny and poky and well reflected his status in Lucille's house. Her girlfriends were sleeping in the grand guest bedrooms. He threw himself on the pink bedspread and sobbed into his pillow.
It had been like this for the last two weeks. Justin was reaching the end of his tether.

His tears subsiding, Justin's mind travelled back to the past, just nine short years ago, when instead of being a mini-skirted and painted male, he wore jeans and played sports, as boys were meant to. But then things had started changing when he reached ten years old...

Justin kicked the ball around the school playground. He loved playing soccer with his friends and they had a good time. He was heading towards the opposition's makeshift goal, made up of coats, when someone suddenly tackled him and won the ball off him.

To his disbelief he realised that it had been a girl who had just tackled him. She was wearing the regulation skirt and tights and blouse that girls were required to wear. Play was abruptly halted as the boys realised that a bunch of girls had imposed themselves on their game.

"Hey, no one said you could join in!" said Laurence, the de facto leader of Justin's group.
One girl, whom Justin recognised as Krystal Webb approached Laurence and faced him definantly "What's wrong, big boy? Scared of being beaten by a girl?"

Laurence replied "Of course not". He looked at the girl in her school uniform, long blonde hair and girlish features "You, beating us at soccer? That's a laugh!"

"We'll give you a match then. Right here and now" said Krystal "But there's a forfeit. If we win, we get your trousers. If you win, we'll agree not to play soccer. Deal?"

Justin wasn't keen. There was something about Krystal, an air of confidence, that unnerved him. But Laurence was convinced they would win easily "They're just a bunch of girls. We can take them. Easily" and talked the other boys around.

The match ended with the girls winning 3-2. The girls' speed, skill and athleticism had surprised the boys and they had been beaten. The boys were humilated to have beaten by girls but more humiliation was to come.

Krystal, flushed with triumph, stepped forward and demanded the trousers of all of the boy players.

Laurence shook his head "Come on, that was a joke right? You can't make us!" he said petulantly."A deal is a deal. Hand them over please".Embarrassed and humiliated, the losers slowly removed their trousers and were left standing in their underpants whilst the winners giggled and held their winnings aloft. The girls went away to the nearest toilet block whilst the boys wondered what they were going to do. They could not go around in their underwear. The girls emerged few minutes later, wearing the boys' trousers.

"That's better" remarked Krystal "I hate having to wear a skirt. Here you go, boys. You can wear them!". A pile of girls' skirts was dumped on the ground.

Humiliating as the idea of having to wear a skirt, the ultimate symbol of girlhood, was, it was better than being in your underwear, so the boys sorted through the skirts and put one on that fitted.

Justin looked at his friends wearing skirts and blushing. It was even weirder to wear one though. His legs were exposed and he felt air wafting underneath and the feel of the hem against his legs as he walked and the gentle bounce of the skirt as he walked to his next class, with other students pointing and laughing at him and his friends. The teachers were less amused and ordered that the boys trousers were to be restored to them and the girls were to resume their skirts. The girls did so with ill grace, with Krystal pouting, but did manage to get a picture of Justin and some of the other boys wearing their skirts which were reproduced and plastered all over school lockers and walls. Justin had been embarrassed by the incident but it was soon forgotten as the years passed and he attended high school and became a dim childhood memory, but one that would come back to him in startling clarity in his later life.

In the intervening years, Justin had become vaguely aware of a feminist movement called Females Forward. This was a national political movement, very well organised and who were co-opting women and girls in staggering numbers. Their aim was to promote women as the leaders of society and advocated that women should hold all the positions of power and get the best jobs. They also advocated that women and girls should spurn traditional femininity, which was a construct that perpetuated male dominance.

Justin encountered the movement in his first year at high school, for many of the girls there had
joined the Females Forward girls movement, including Krystal Webb, who was the Vice President. These girls refused to wear skirts or anything frilly or lacy, were determined to do well at school and in sports. Their focus and determination and energy were astonishing. From the moment they got out of bed, these girls studied hard all day, went to the gym or the sportsfield, or were busy recruiting other girls. They often held rallies, which some of the boys heckled and tried to disrupt, but the girls were unfazed and kept going.

Justin was brighter than the usual boy, but he was disconcerted to notice that it was the girls who were top of every class that he was in and who won all of the prizes. It was the girls who ran for school council and almost every major position on it was held by a girl. Even on the sports field, the girls had their own soccer team, rugby team and basketball team and, embarassing as it was to admit it, the girls' teams were better than those of the boys and instead of the boys' team representing the school in sports events, it was the girls' team that was entered and they brought back prizes.

The girls were even becoming stronger than any boy, as they worked out often and played sports. Boys who tried to assert themselves by brute force found themselves being defeated easily by the girl that they had tried to dominate.

Listening one day to Krystal at one of the Females Foward rally stating that girls were smarter than boys, quicker than boys and even stronger than boys, Justin had to concede that she was right. These girls were determined to rule the world and there was nothing that boys could do to stop them.

For the time being though, Krystal, who had emerged as the leader of the Females Forward girls' section, was content to dominate the school through her control of the school council. She passed measures to allow girl students complete freedom of dress and got more funding for the girls' sports teams.

Justin was walking back to his locker when he was approached by a group of girls, led by Krystal. They were all wearing traditional boys' uniforms. Justin felt quite vulnerable and quite intimidated by the presence of so many girls and the way that they were dressed. Very masculine. The girls' confidence gave them a air of masculinity.

"Hello, Justin" said Krystal with a smile "I've been wanting to talk with you". She turned to the other girls "Go to the canteen. I'll be with you in a while". The girls departed from view, smiling.

Justin said "What do you talk with me about?" he asked. Compared to her, he was nobody.

"To ask you out, of course!" she said "Surprised? Why wouldn't I want to date you? You're very cute and a lot smarter than the other boys. I know you don't have a girlfriend, so come on, say yes!"

It was weird to be asked out by a girl - that was the boy's perogative - but Justin admired the confidence and strength of this girl and knew he wanted to be with her so he recovered his composure and said "Sure. Why not".

"Great. I'll call you later. Arrange a date" and the most powerful student in the school breezed away, elated, leaving a confused boy behind her.

Justin spent the evening racking his brains for what to do with Krystal. It was his role to take her out and entertain her but when he got a call from Krystal she told him exactly when and where he should be and told him to leave everything to her.

Justin turned up at the bowling alley for the date. Typically, Krystal was the better bowler, but Justin still enjoyed himself. They had a burger and shakes and then then went to see a film. During the film, it was Krystal who came on to him, kissing and fondling him, and Justin who was the passive, submissive partner and she assumed the traditionally male role in all they did, even insisting on paying for their food and the cinema tickets.

Justin was confused and disorientated by the reversal of their traditional positions, but he had to admit that he had enjoyed being cuddled and kissed by Krystal. They had agreed by the evening's end to become boyfriend and girlfriend and, after she had walked him home, she had taken him in her arms and given him a long kiss that took his breath away.

Over the next few months, Justin and Krystal dated often. It was always Krystal who insisted on taking the lead in all their activities and in their intimate moments. Justin found that of the two of them, even though he was red blooded male with an adolescent's normal sex drive, Krystal was the active aggressive one, whilst he was reactive and passive.

Krystal's parents were quite wealthy, wealthier than Justin's own family, and she would buy him presents of pure silk boxer shorts in pinks, whites and pastels. Justin was embarrassed to wear them but, as Krystal pointed out, who was ever going to see them (except her)? Justin wore them and found to his surprise that he liked the feel of them and that it pleased his girlfriend that he wore them. Krystal bought him jewellery, which Justin wore out of school to please her.

Then, one weekend, Krystal called him and asked him to be in the mall within an hour. Well, demanded, actually. As their became familiar with each other, Krystal had become more domineering towards him, but as Justin was anxious to please her, he would always obey her summons. They met in the mall and Krystal took him to somewhere new. Saskia's Beauty Salon.

Justin assumed that Krystal was getting her hair done or her nails and said he would for her, which earnt him a playful punch on the arm (which actually hurt as Krystal was a strong girl) and said that she had booked HIM into the salon! She did not frequent such places herself, as he should have known by now. Justin did know, for Krystal kept her hair short, her nails short and allowed her body hair to grow and never ever wore cosmetics.

Justin protested. He didn't want to go into that salon. Krystal sat him down gently and said that frankly, if they were to remain an item, he needed a makeover. She didn't like body hair on a man (Justin was thrilled that, at 14, she was calling him a man) and that his nails should be manicured. Lots of boys and men were getting these things done and there was nothing unmanly about it. It still took her a while to talk him round.

Uneasily, Justin entered the salon and was pleasantly surprised and relieved to find that most of the customers there were male, as were some of the staff. When Krystal told the male beautician what she wanted done, he did not blink an eyelid. Seemed that Krystal was right and a lot of males were getting this kind of grooming.

Justin had to strip and was given a full body wax. It was painful but at the end of it, Justin had to admit that his legs looked and felt great. He was then given a manicure and pedicure that shaped his nails and made them look shiny. Then, unexpectedly, the beautician took some tweezers and plucked and shaped Justin's eyebrows, saying he had a lovely face. When the man had finished, Justin looked at himself in shock. His eyebrows had been shaped in the classic arch that used to be worn by women! His features were immediately feminised.

Justin left the salon with Krystal (with her paying the salon) sheepishly, with her saying how cute he looked. She gave him a big hug as a reward for his co-operative attitude and willingness to please her. When Justin got home, his parents' jaws dropped at the sight of their hairless, plucked son, with his manicured nails, but they said nothing.

Justin noticed that whenever Krystal came to see him, she would spend time with his mother and then, five months into the relationship, his mother had joined Females Forward. Krystal had recruited her. So, most evenings, his mother was out distributing leaflets and attending rallies.

The impact of this on Justin became apparent soon afterwards. It happened to be his birthday a fortnight after his mother had joined the movement and his mother and Krystal had arranged to take him out for a meal. But first he had to receive his presents. From Krystal, he received a silver necklace with a locket on it, with a photo of Krystal in it and from his mother he received a lilac dress. Justin was stunned to be given such girlish presents.

"We think it's time you started wearing dresses" said Justin's mother.

"You'll look so pretty in that dress. Your mum and I spent a lot of time picking it out for you" said Krystal.

But this was too much for Justin. Being waxed and manicured and having his eyebrows plucked was one thing but wearing a dress! "I'm a boy! I'm not wearing a dress!". He threw it to the floor.

The next thing he knew, he was pinned to the floor by his girlfriend, helpless. He felt Krystal's hot breath on his ear "You are embarressing me!" she hissed "Put the dress on and behave or we are finished!" she said with such sincerity that Justin was frightened. He did not want to lose Krystal. He loved Krystal! He begged her to let him go.

Blushing slightly, he picked up the dress and went upstairs, reappearing it in later and receiving compliments from the women and a warm, sweet kiss from Krystal. Justin wandered about in the dress, gradually feeling less self-conscious, and wearing his new necklace, which Krystal had clipped on for him.

They were preparing to leave for their meal when Justin's father arrived back from work. He took one look at Justin in his lilac dress and exploded "What the hell is this? What is my son doing in a dress? Have you lost your mind woman?" he bellowed at his wife.

Krystal stepped forward, shielding both Justin and his mother with her athletic body. "Mr Curtis, I'm Krystal...."

"I know who the hell you are, lady, you're the one who's been filling my wife's head with all this feminist trash! Women are superior. Men are rubbish and all that nonsense! Get out of my house right now and stay away from my wife and son!" he bellowed.

Krystal took this in her stride "Mr Curtis, I'm not going anywhere. Your wife and my boyfriend, Justin, invited me here. To celebrate your son's birthday. I don't think this is the time for an argument!"

Mr Curtis grew redder with anger "I told you get the hell out of my house young lady". He pointed at his wife "You will leave that feminist movement right away and be a proper wife to me! And you, boy, go and take that dress off and stop acting like a sissy. You're meant to be a boy! I'm the man of this house and don't you forget it!". However, neither his wife or son responded.

"Do as I tell you!" Mr Curtis shouted. Then, when he got no response, lunged towards his wife. But Krystal was a lot quicker and in no time had Justin's father pinned just as she had Justin a short time earlier.

"Now you listen to me, you pathetic excuse for a man" Krysal whispered into his ear. "You are nothing compared to your wife and son. Leave them be in future or I'll let it be known that you were well beaten by a girl. Understood?"

Eventually, Mr Curtis nodded and was released. Angrily, he bolted upstairs and emerged several minutes later with a packed case, muttering something about hoping they would be happy in their feminist paradise and he was better off without them.

That was the last time Justin ever saw his father, for he died two years later in an accident at his works.

Once Mr Curtis was gone, they went out for a lovely meal and the ladies lavished compliments upon him and his new dress. Justin had never felt so loved and honoured and even his father's departure failed to spoil the evening.

At school the following week, it was announced that a new cheerleading squad was being set up. For boys only. The girls' squad had dissolved ages ago through dwindling numbers and it seemed logical that as the girls now played sports better than the boys, the boys should take the supporting role.

"You should join, Justin" Krystal suggested "You have great legs and are very pretty!"

Justin was still finding it hard to being called pretty. Pretty had been a term that had applied to girls but now that girls were the stronger sex, it was being applied to boys. The worse thing was that it was true. He and other boys, with their long hair, plucked eyebrows, hairless limbs and manicured nails, as was now fashionable for young males, were indisputably the prettier, more gentle sex. And more and more boys were openly wearing skirts, dresses and high heels at the urging of their mothers and girlfriends. Justin was wearing a denim mini skirt right now that Krystal had bought for him and two inch high heels. They were his first ever pair and he had a feeling that they would not be his last pair.

Justin put his name down for the squad, winning Krystal's approval, tried out with other boys and was selected. As a reward, Krystal bought him his cheerleading outfit of skimpy top, tiny skirt and frilly knickers and so Justin spent his weekends and some evenings waving his pom poms and cheering whilst his girlfriend scored goals. Most of the other cheerleaders were the former members of the dissolved boys team. Once they had prided themselves on their athleticism, now they were obssessed with their appearance and were as bitchy as girls had once been. It amused the girls to see the boys fighting, adopting their old behaviours, which they had risen above.

Soon after becoming a cheerleader, the last vestiges of his masculinity were breached by an onslaught by his mother and girlfriend. His silk underwear was replaced by what would once have been considered girls' knickers, with all the frills and lace that Krystal loved seeing him in. His ears were pierced and fitted with dangling earrings and he began wearing make-up and his entire wardrobe consisted of blouses, skirts and dresses and high heeled shoes and Justin's mind was filled with how he looked and what he should wear to please his girlfriend.

In the wider world, he was aware that things were changing. Females Forward had done well in the elections and now held a majority. For the first time in history, an all female government was in power and they passed laws to advantage women. Fathers were required to spend at least 50% of their time doing housework and childcare duties in the name of equality (as a matter of fact by this point, more and more men were becoming househusbands as they were either unemployable or outearned by their wives). At least 50% of all armed forces personnel and police officers had to be female and, if necessary, males would be dismissed to make way for them. More funding was given to girls' education and to womens' sports. The new government was popular and successful with women and some males.

Males in the meantime were becoming increasingly feminised and those who could work ended up as maids, or cleaners, or secretaries. Male and female fashions were practically inverted and make up, jewellery and hairdos for males became in vogue.

It was the night of the school prom. In the past, the girls had worn their best frocks and done their best to look pretty for the boys but now in this topsy turvy world, it was the boys' turn to put on their frocks and look attractive. Justin's mother had supervised his debut as a debutante, going with him to buy and expensive pink prom dress with little gems embedded in it that glittered. Justin's body was waxed, plucked and moisterised and his hair was dyed blonde and had highlights put in it and his nails were manicured and painted the same shade of pink as his dress. In addition to the dress, Justin wore a pair of six inch pink high heels, a diamond necklace and matching earrings and a silver tiara. He also wore a new innovation for males, the boy bra, a delicate band of lace with straps to induce modesty. He looked absolutely gorgeous, his mother said, almost clapping her hands with glee.

Krystal, attired in a black tuxedo and looking very masculine, agreed and gave him a warm, deep kiss. She insisted on dancing with him exclusively, although there were plenty of other pretty boys, blushing and unaccustomed to their new roles as eye candy. Krystal and Justin were crowned Prom King and Queen respectively and Justin proudly wore his sash. Being feminine was not so bad, he reflected, with tears in his eyes.

Afterwards, Krystal took him by the hand and led him to a quiet spot, where she took him in her arms and kissed and fondled him in his most intimate areas, inserting her hand up his skirt and stroking his soft, hairless legs. Justin was breathless with the enjoyment of it. It was still strange to to be a male and yet be passive and yielding to his girlfriend's kisses and fondling.

After they had finished, Krystal walked him back to his house and before he went inside, she told him that she would be going away for a while. She had won a scholarship to one of the special girls' only academies that the new government had set up for the especially talented girls and it was far far away. She would hardly get to see him. Justin, to his surprise, started weeping and Krystal had to comfort him. She would not forget him were her last words as she left him.

Justin was pleased for his girlfriend. To win a place at one of the new academies guaranteed a girl a high flying job, but he was sad that he would hardly ever see her.

In fact, he never saw her again. He heard from other sources that she had since won a place at a prestigious university (which was by default a girls' only institution as it was rare for the new breed of boys to attain more than some high school qualifications). A lonely Justin, for he did not find a new girlfriend, finished school with more qualifications than the average boy but fewer than any girl. He applied to join the army and was rejected, the army being swamped with stronger, smarter female recruits. His mother suggested his qualifications were good enough to earn him a place at a secretarial college and so he attended one. All of the students were boys, learning the secretarial skills to support female executives that now dominated upper management. Justin finished top of the class and ended up working for Lois Warde and then his current boss, Lucille.

Back in the present day, Justin dried his tears and changed into more practical clothes, a cashmere jersey and suede skirt and low heeled pumps. He had decided that enough was enough. He packed up all his things and hurriedly wrote a letter to Lucille resigning his job with the firm with immediate effect.

He crept downstairs, not wanting to meet Lucille or any of her guests, only to find Lucille out for the count on the sofa. A empty bottle of whiskey lay beside her. She was totally out of it. Justin decided to get even with her with the aid of the contents of his handbag and a box of old clothes he had found in his room. Once he had finished his work and taken a few photos, he left the house and caught a bus into town.

It was raining as he alighted from the bus and walked back to his flat, his high heels clicking on the pavement. Justin was glad that his make up was rain resistant. He made it inside the building to find someone waiting for him. A young woman in a black raincoat. She turned around with a smile. It was Krystal. She had been looking for him. They greeted each other warmly and Justin let her into his flat. They talked through the night. Krystal was still at university but was set to graduate and enter into politics to ultimately become a member of parliament and make a difference. Krystal stayed the night and Justin had the most enjoyable night of his life. Krystal was touched to find that Justin still wore the locket she had given him and kept photos of her around the house. She left him as his girlfriend once again and Justin had a feeling that his life would turn out fine with this strong, superior woman to look after him.

Lucille came to, to the sound of laughter. Her equally drunken friends were in hysterics and Lucille found out why. She was wearing a dress, a flowery, frilly thing. And not only that, but a bra, not one of those things that boys wore but one that women used to wear when they were the submissive creatures they had once been when males were in control. To her horror, she also found that her legs had been shaved and she was wearing stockings and a suspender belt and that her feet had been squeezed into pink high heels. Frilly petticoats peeked out from beneath her dress. Most humiliating of all, she realised that she was wearing a lace thong! God, it hurt! She blushed with the shame of it. Her nails had been painted pink, her face had been plastered with make up and she smelt of primrose and jasmine. Her body had been perfumed! She gagged at her own scent.

Lucille felt like being sick. She was dressed as a pathetic male in front of her friends and had been made to look ridiculous! She found an envelope stuffed into the handbag that had been draped over one of her arms. It was from that loser Justin. It had been him that had done this to her. After all she had done for him, he goes and totally humiliates her. The letter said that he was resigning and that he had some photos of Lucille's "new improved look that really suited her" that he wouldn't hesitate to publish on-line if she tried to find him, and suggested that she give him a good reference or else.

Initially furious, once she had washed off the sickening scent and resumed her normal clothes and made sure her friends would not breathe a word about what had happened, Lucille knew she would have to let the boy have his way, though by her nature she hated losing, especially to a member of the weaker sex. If those photos ever saw the light of day, her career would be over and she would be a laughing stock. A woman wearing feminine clothes and make up, even in jest, was scorned by all women. She would just have to find a new secretary that was all.

Justin easily found a new job as a secretary in the same town where Krystal was studying and they continued their relationship. Krystal graduated and won a seat in parliament. She needed a secretary and gave the job to Justin. Then, after being appointed as a minister, Krystal proposed to him and gave him an engagement ring. Justin was flattered and ecstatic.

A year later, Justin, dressed in a silk white wedding dress and lace veil, said his vow to honour and obey his superior spouse, Krystal. Krystal, dressed in a tux, promised to protect and provide for her weaker spouse. Throwing his bouquet to his pretty male bridesmaids, Justin happily began his new life as the househusband to a successful career woman. His Krystal.

Sunday, 20 June 2010

The Adam and Eve Collection 2020

Tony, up and coming male model, reported for his next assignment at new fashion house, Adam Creations, owned and run by its founder, CEO and chief fashion designer, Saffron Dix.

Tony was 18, very slim, with shoulder length blonde hair and quite feminine features. He was what was known in the trade as a "pretty boy" and despite his age he had made a name for himself in the industry.

He reported in to reception and was asked to take a seat alongside several other male models and several statuequese female models. After a wait of several minutes, Saffron's assistant, Hercules, a tiny, effeminate guy, minced in and asked the models to follow him for dressing and make up.

Unusually, Tony and the other models had been booked at the very last minute and so had no idea what they would be modeling, but that was nothing to worry about. They were male models and so would expect to be modeling suitable clothing.

After having the typical stage make up applied to his features and his long hair brushed, Tony was handed his first outfit. He was stunned to see that it consisted of a print blouse, a blue skirt, and a pair of black open-toed shoes, with a two inch heel on them. There was one other object that Tony could not immediately identify, a band of white lace.

These were womens' clothes. A mistake, surely, thought Tony. He was aware of course, through the industry, that the successful career woman (and there seemed to be increasing numbers of those nowadays) was increasingly wearing pant suits and forsaking feminine fripperies, such as make up, frills and lace. He tried to think of the last time he ever saw a woman dressed in the clothes that had just been handed to him. It must have been in his childhood, he thought. Only female fashion models wore things like this these days.

He got up and approached the assistant, Hercules, or whatever his name was and quietly pointed out that he had been given the wrong items to wear. Hercules checked a list on his clipboard and shook his head. "Nope" he replied, "that's what you're wearing for your walk on. It's part of Saffron's Adam Collection" said Hercules, as if that explained everything.

Tony was surprised but he was a professional and would have to wear what he was told. He held up the band of lace and asked what it was. Never in his career had he been stumped by an item of clothing and felt embarressed to have to ask.

"It's a boy-bra" explained Hercules. "Saffron invented it for male modesty. Women don't want to see men's naked breasts anymore. Now, please, will you get ready, the shoot is in five minutes and Saffron hates tardiness". Hercules gently guided him by the arm back to the changing and make up area.

Tony shrugged and resigned himself to the weirdest assignment of his career yet. He stripped and put on a pair of white plain pants. The boy-bra thing was a challenge but he worked with women every day and knew his way around a bra. The boy bra was almost identical, with shoulder straps and back hooks, but of course no cups for the male was less well endowed there than his female peer. The blouse and skirt were easy enough to put on. The shoes were an awkward fit and designed for style not comfort.

Once fully dressed, Tony felt very strange. The fabric of the blouse was very soft. He was unused to wobbling about in heels and having a draft up his legs. Most odd was having his chest constricted by that boy-bra contraption. He now had an idea of what it must be like to be a female model. He viewed himself in a mirror and decided that he looked decidely feminine with his slim body, girlish face and long blonde hair and attired as he was.

The other male models were being dressed in what were clearly dresses and the same type of shoes that Tony now wore (and found uncomfortable), though in grays and blues as if it was a concession to the wearer's maleness, and the models, as slender and pretty as Tony himself, looked feminine. Like Tony, they were embarressed and ill at ease in the outfits they had to model.

Hercules fussed over them like a mother hen. In the meantime the female models had appeared in the clothes that they were to wear and Tony was startled to see that all of the female models were dressed in traditionally masculine costumes. In suits, with flat shoes, or in casual shirts and trousers. The women were also over six feet tall and fairly well built, in contrast to the smaller, slimmer male models. The women, on seeing the men dressed as they were and clearly looking uncomfortable, smirked and made remarks about how pretty they looked and were they managing in their skirts and high heels? They burst in hysterics when they realised that the males were wearing a type of bra!

The women were also completely covered up. Not a single calf or midriff on display. Whilst the legs and arms of all the males were on show for all to see!

Tony felt very self-conscious, with his legs on display, cantilvered up by the heeled shoes and displaying a pair of shapely ankles and was having to learn the art of managing his rather short skirt to preserve his modesty and dignity.

It was time for the show. Standing behind a closed curtain with the other models, Tony could hear the voice of Saffron Dix herself "Ladies and Gentlemen, I am proud to present my latest creations. The Adam and Eve Collection. A glimpse into how fashion will evolve for men and women in an era of female dominance and male submission!"

The curtains opened and the Tony and the other male models strutted onto the stage, managing as best they could in their heels, drawing gasps, some giggling and some admiring glances. Applause rippled through the mainly female audience. The few males in the audience looked dumbfounded. This was the future of male fashion? And and the applause grew louder when the Amazonian female models appeared in their suits.

Eventually, the show was over and Tony was able to resume his normal clothes and his dignity. The Adam and Eve Collection was well received by the fashion world and most notably by women, who bought their partners a dress or skirt or the new phonomenon, the boy-bra. The boy-bra became the biggest seller of that year and sales remained strong thereafter as women enjoyed the idea of their males having their breasts covered. Males were less enamoured. Already largely confined to the home or to low status jobs as a result of the ascent of the female in the early years of the century, their self-esteem was already low, but now their dominant wives and partners were making them wear dresses, skirts and heels whilst the women abandoned such attire for the attire of the dominant sex, suits and flat shoes. The complete reversal of the sexes was almost complete!

As Tony's career progressed, he found that with each passing year he was spending more and more time in skirts and high heels, with the heels getting higher and the skirts getting shorter. Frills and lace and flowery patterns were gradually appearing on the "Man skirts" and "Chap shoes" and "Lad Dresses" (as skirts, high heels and dresses were called to soften the blow to the fragile male ego) and male fashion was becoming more frivoulous whilst female fashion became sensible and sober, with not a frill or flounce to be seen. The final indignity came in 2024, when Saffron Dix announced her new lingerie line. Lace panties, stockings and suspenders, thongs and even corsetry - for men! The new lingerie flew off the shelves as women bought it for their parners and insisted on them wearing it for them.

By 2027, Tony was nearing the end of his career as a model and every day was spent modelling boy bras, lacy lingerie and pretty dresses and impossibly high heeled shoes. As he pranced down the catwalk (he was by now well accustomed to wearing high heels and managing his skirts), in a flowing powder blue gown and dainty lacy lingerie underneath, he reflected that he was no different from what a female model would have been just a few decades earlier.....

Tuesday, 15 June 2010

Jobs for the Boys

With the tremendous rise of the number of girls getting good grades at school and increasing numbers of them going on to university and getting postgraduate qualifications in recent years, a young woman's career aspirations and opportunities are far greater than those of her grandmother or even her mother.

Women are increasingly landing highly paid and high status jobs as business executives and in middle management, as Doctors, Lawyers, Scientists, Civil Servants and Television Producers. Many more girls than boys now attend university and they outnumber males in traditionally male professions such as medicine and law.

Males, by comparison, are finding their career opportunities becoming increasingly limited as a result of their limited educational qualifications and because they now have to compete against better educated women for the top jobs and are losing out to them. They are finding that the jobs that used to be the preserve of males are out of their reach.

In order to earn a living they are having to consider doing jobs that were traditionally regarded as "women's work". If a male cannot qualify for medical school, then the most obvious job is that of a nurse. If he lacks the business acumen to be an executive then he will become an assistant or secretary to a successful executive. For less qualified males jobs such as waitress, maid or even lap dancer are possible.

Not long ago, all of the professions and the top jobs were dominated by men and women had to serve them in a supportive and subordinate role and were required to dress for the part in ultra feminine, revealing unforms (if you were a nurse, waitress or maid) or in equally feminine and revealing skirts and blouses (if you were an assistant or secretary). And if you happened to be a sex worker you would end up wearing next to nothing.

At the rate that women are taking over, that situation will be reversed sooner than we realise and it will be women who dominate the professions and top jobs and men who come to occupy the subordinate and support roles. Successful female executives, Doctors and lawyers will be wanting male secretaries, as a status symbol and as eye candy, and so secretarial colleges, once exclusively filled with girls, will be filled only by young men learning touch typing and shorthand.

The roles being filled by the male in the new order are, by nature of being supportive to the powerful boss, feminine roles, and it is likely that the holders of these jobs will be required to wear the traditional "uniform' of the nurse, secretary, waitress or sex worker at the behest of their female superior as her mother once did.

One day it will be quite normal to see men of all ages mincing about in high heels, wearing skirts, dresses, silk blouses or a revealing uniform, complete with a frilly apron, being fully made up and with their hair worn long and styled, anxious about their appearance and being pleasing to their female bosses. Women, on the other hand, preoccupied with the important jobs that they now hold, will forsake feminine fripperies in favour of the pant suit and short hair and take pleasure and amusement in their male subordinates' femininity.

Sunday, 13 June 2010

Switching at School

James looked at the clothes that had been laid out on his bed with a mixture of fascination and fear.

The items laid out were a white blouse, a lace bra, a school tie, a navy blue cardigan, a pleated grey skirt, knee high white socks, a pair of white cotton panties and a pair of shiny black girls' shoes.

James knew that he would shortly have to put these clothes on. To go outside dressed as a girl!

The only consolation that he was not the only one, for all boys at his school were required to don the uniform of a schoolgirl and attend school.

It was the fault of that interfering busybody, Nancy Cochrane. She was a classmate of James who was a feminist and active on all of the student committees. She had always insisted that a girl was superior to any ten boys and kept on quoting statistics, that more girls than boys graduated from high school, went to university and got good degrees and good post grad qualifications. That females made better students and leaders. Why then, she asked, did girls still have to wear the same uniforms that their grandmothers had worn? That denoted inferiority to boys? Nancy had pushed for girls to be allowed to wear trousers but had been defeated in the vote that followed.

Undeterred, Nancy introduced her next motion. A role reversal day. One day when girls came to school in male attire and boys came in female attire. The committee saw little harm and even some fun in the proposal, and so it passed. And that was why James had to put on a girl's uniform.

With some help from his mother (especially with the bra), James got into the outfit. The blouse was tight against his body, the panties were tighter than the underwear he usually wore, but the most disconcerting item was the skirt, for it defined him instantly as a girl, and he felt vulnerable wearing it for his legs were exposed. For one used to trousers, the transition to a skirt felt very incomfortable. The shoes were clunky and he was unused to wearing knee length socks and the bra was just alien to him.

Ironically, James was wearing the uniform normally worn by the proposer of this arrangment, Nancy Cochrane herself, and she would be wearing his, for they were roughly the same size, although the cuffs of the blouse rode slightly up his forearms. James headed out for school, carrying Nancy's satchel and her sports kit. It was a cold, windswept day and James immediately noticed the cold drafts up his skirt and that his bare legs were cold.

His appearance predictably caused hilarity for he still had the short hair of a boy pupil and he was clearly a boy in skirts, which caused him embarressment. In classes, the trousered girls sat smugly, laughing and making comments about the blushing boys in their skirts. James found the experience humiliating. The boys had to attend the lessons that the girls normally attended, such as home economics where they had to wear aprons and learn how to cook cupcakes, and do needlework, whilst the girls did woodwork and metalwork.

In sports, James was clad in a white T-Shirt and a cute bottle green mini-skirt that showed off his legs and earned him some wolf-whistles from girl spectators. The boys played netball. The girls, clad in shorts, played soccer. It was noted that the girls became more confident and assertive in trousers and the boys became quiet and shy in skirts and were better behaved.

The headteacher was pleased to see that the school had survived the experiment. However, when the girls went home, it was still dressed in the uniforms of their male peers. The boys were left in their girls' uniforms and wondering when they would get their own back. James, returning home in his girls' uniform, phoned Nancy and asked her to return his uniform.

Nancy's response was "Oh, you silly boy! You're already wearing your uniform! Did you really think that once we had put on your trousers that we'd ever give them back? Get used to the skirt, cos that's what you'll be wearing from now on! We girls are way ahead of you in every way and now we're just claiming what is ours by right and putting you boys in the clothes that you should be wearing!". The line went dead.

James looked dumbly down at his skirt with the horrible realisation that everything Nancy has said was right.

Saturday, 12 June 2010

The Boss's new wife

Michael Stanford's life to date had been almost effortless. Born both handsome and intelligent to wealthy parents, he had gone to public school and oxbridge, and had then become an executive for a major bank. He had married beneath himself, a girl who had never been to university, and whose parents had run a greengrocers. Still, she'd at least given him an heir and a spare.

Life was good for the next twenty years or so. Michael bought a large house and sent his own sons to public school and oxbridge and they themselves became married, wealthy executives and carried on the family line.

Then, one day, Michael's life fell apart. His bank had been bought out by a bigger competitor and, following a restructuring exercise, Michael was made redundant. For the first time in many years, Michael had to go job hunting. Michael was in his forties and would only consider executive positions. He could not find another job, became depressed and turned to the bottle for consolation.

His wife, Lois, noticed that he had lost heart, in spite of her encouragement and reckoned that, in his current condition, her husband would not secure another position. A housewife since her wedding day, Lois realised that it was now up to her to provide for her family. She got a job as a filing clerk in a marketing company, and from that position, learned all that she could and began to come up with ideas to help the company. She became a star in the company and was rapidly promoted until she became an executive, earning more than her husband had ever earned even when he had been in his prime.

Seeing the rise of his wife and his continued failure to gain employment, Michael became resentful and frustrated and increasingly dependent on the bottle as a prop. In the past, as a wife, Lois had dutifully fulfilled her role at functions and had been immaculate in her presentation. Now that their postions had been reversed and Michael was now the spouse, rather than the successful executive, he was frankly an embarressment. He did not bother to shave anymore or make any effort with his appearance and dress and stank of drink. Lois could not even consider taking him to any company functions.

Lois confided in another female executive, Miranda, who was of the same age and was also married, and asked her how she coped with being the more successful spouse and what to do about her problem husband. Miranda merely invited her to dinner at her house later in the week.

Lois dressed up in her best frock and went to Miranda's house. Miranda earned more than Lois and lived in a mansion. Miranda greeted her warmly. Lois expected to be introduced to her husband, but he was nowhere to be seen. After a cocktail, the ladies sat down to dinner, and the three course meal was wheeled in by a woman wearing a flowery frock, stockings and high heels, wearing full make up. The woman served them their meal without commentary and attended their every need, re-filling their wine glasses and taking their plates away. She was, Lois thought, the perfect waitress.

After they had eaten, and the woman had departed to do the washing up, Miranda revealed that "she" was in fact her husband, Dennis. Like Michael, Dennis had once been a successful businessman but had lost his job and had gone off the rails, forcing Miranda to become the breadwinner. But, although she worked hard all day, Dennis still expected her to continue in her role as the wife too. This attitude was unacceptable and so Miranda had scoured the internet for problem husband solutions and had found websites advocating feminisation and role reversal. Role reversal seemed entirely logical since their roles had been reversed. As Miranda now earned the money and Dennis was dependent on her, this gave her the power to issue him with an ultimatum. Unless he could find a paying job, he would have to do housework. Dennis had been out of work for several years by this point and his pride would not allow him to take any job of lower pay and status than the one he had last held so he had no chance of getting another job and had to agree to do more around the house.

Miranda gradually got him to wear an apron, bought him silk underwear, male beauty products and silk nightwear. Dennis, as it turned out, quite enjoyed wearing silken garments. Over time, Miranda made him presentable by taking Dennis to the beauty salon she used for a manicure and pedicure. Dennis enjoyed being the centre of attention, and being pampered, and became willing to submit to beauty treatments, including depilation, nailcare and eyebrow shaping. Keen to show off his hairless legs and varnished nails, Dennis was amenable to wearing dresses and skirts, realising that being pretty was something that he was good at, and he wore them all the time, except when he had to go outside. His whole personality had changed and he had become more submissive and pleasant. He had channelled all of his energies into being the perfect housewife, as he had once been the successful executive in an earlier life. He could not attend company functions dressed as a woman of course, but did so in male attire and was perfectly behaved, drifting into the background, and allowing his wife to be the centre of attention.

Lois was stunned and amused by what she had heard and in a quandry. Would her husband accept being feminised and becoming in effect a "wife"? There was only one way to find out....

A year later, Lois invited Miranda to dinner at her house. By this point, Lois was now Miranda's boss as she had become a board member. Miranda had known what to expect but was still amused to see Lois's husband, attired in a designer dress and stockings, which showed off his shapely legs, serve them dinner with a curtsey and a smile.

Miranda and Lois now had "wives" that they could be proud of.

Thursday, 10 June 2010

The myth of Femininity

Masculinity and Femininity. Words that evoke images of rugged, warrior men and delicate, pretty ladies. It has been assumed that masculinity, with its associated virtues such as active, energetic, strength, decisiveness, assertiveness and leadership, applies only to males, and that femininity, associated with gentleness, meekness, being submissive, pleasing and being frivoulous and nurturing, applies only to those who are born female.

This was true in the distant past, in a less civilised world, where men ruled and fought other men and women left them to get on with it whilst they concentrated on the less glamourous job of keeping home and raising children. Men ruled and reserved privileges for themselves, most notably, the control of females. Women and girls were kept "in their place" by being made to look attractive by means of dress, jewellery and cosmetics and were conditioned to be submissive and pleasing to males as their protectors and providers.

However, throughout history, there have been examples of famous men and women who have by default of personality or by deliberate actions have subverted the "norm". Take Adam and Eve for example. Adam was happy to stay in paradise, ignorant but happy, but Eve was curious and proactive and exercised leadership over Adam. They got thrown out of paradise but curiously, it was Eve who was the active, masculine vessel and Adam who was the passive, feminine vessel. And they were, according to the bible, the first man and woman!

History is replete with other examples, Joan of Arc being the most obvious example of a masculine woman and Henri III of France, a King who regularly dressed in female dress of the period (16th century) and who was essentially feminine in nature. There is also plenty of evidence of women running businesses and farms and even ruling kingdoms whilst married to less able, passive men.

Males and females were also dressed differently. Men wore practical, sober clothes to reflect their masculinity, whilst women wore frivilous, frilly clothes, impractical and designed to make them an ornament rather than of practical use. But it was not clothing that determined a person's masculinity or femininity but their personality and males can be feminine and women masculine.

But, over the course of the twentieth century, females became liberated and had the same opportunites as men to succeed, but the world was still very much a man's world and to survive in it and succeed, women had to become more masculine and some masculine women were well placed to thrive in such an environment.

Women were abandoning the femininity imposed on them and the benefits quickly became obvious. They outperformed boys at school and university and from there became successful in business and the professions and other walks of life. The early 21st century will, in retrospect, be called the Age of Women, as women gradually take over all of the positions of power and wealth through ability.

The 21st century will also be noted for the decline of the male in society. Males are falling behind females in the education system and in the workplace. As women become Executives and Doctors and Lawyers, men will become secretaries, nurses and housemakers, as these will be the only roles that they will be qualified to fill.

The successful woman will adopt masculine qualities as these are the qualities of achievement and will propel women towards supremacy. Males, by comparison, in subordinate roles to women, will adopt feminine traits such as submissiveness, eagerness to be pleasing and docility, even if that male is by nature "masculine", in order to survive in what is fast becoming a woman's world.

We are seeing a complete reversal of the traditional gender roles with the female becoming the protector and provider and the male becoming the dependent homemaker and childraiser, rather than equality between the sexes.

Women are gradually discarding their traditional feminine clothing and accessories. Many more women are being seen in a pant suit rather than a skirt or dress and do not wear high heels or make up. Males fashions, by comparison, are becoming more feminine, with male make up, hair remover and man bags being promoted. I foresee that soon, dresses and skirts designed for men will soon be in vogue to reflect the new status of males.

Perhaps, some years hence, if the trends for female supremacy and male decline are anything to go by, females will be more masculine than any male and will wear trousers, while the male, forced by circumstances or inclination to be feminine, will start wearing dresses and skirts and other accessories, with the aim of being more pleasing to their superior protector and provider: woman

Saturday, 5 June 2010

Jasmine's adventures in denim mini-skirts


I've always find denim mini-skirts very sexy and decided recently to purchase one. My usual dress size is a 12 (UK/European standards) and so I bought one in that size and rushed home to try it on. As a genetic male, trying the skirt on to see if it fitted was not an option.

When I tried it on I found that it was way too big for me. It hung on my hips. I went back and bought another at a size 10. I thought that it would fit and it did, kind of, but there was still ample room.

I then scoured charity shops and found one that I thought was an 8 but which at closer examination was in fact a six. And there was still room. Maybe I can squeeze into a 4?

In the space of as many weeks, I now own three mini-skirts, all of different sizes, whereas before I owned none at all! And I may yet try for the size 4.


Jasmine xx