Monday, 28 March 2011
A Girl in Eastbourne - March 2011
Last weekend I attended the Transliving Weekend, held in the Haddon Hall Hotel in Eastbourne. Before I departed, I rang ahead to check that the hotel were definitely expecting me and I learned to my consternation that they had no record of me. It looked like I would have to stay at home. The organisers called me back and it was established that my booking form and cheque had never been received. However, all was not lost, as an attendee had cancelled and so there was a room available for me as long as I could pay in cash when I arrived. This was not a problem for me, so I eagerly accepted the offer and set off with a happy heart. The journey to Eastbourne took several hours, but my enthusiasm and energy were barely diminished. Once I had checked in, had a refreshing bath and had put on a lovely flowery maxi-dress and high heels, I was relaxed and happy. There were a few familiar faces from a similar event that I had attended last September and so I caught up with them and made some new friends. After dinner was the first event of the weekend, the Miss Transliving Beauty Pageant, in which I took part. Lady Luck was smiling on me, for there was a make up lady who very kindly offered to give me a makeover and I enjoyed being made up. I looked and felt really fantastic. Being a beauty contestant was a whole new experience for me. I tried to walk elegantly, remembering to smile and to be radiant, with some success, as I finished in the top ten. But the contest was won by a stunning lass from Manchester called Fiona. She looked absolutely stunning and the rest of us could only gawp at her in awe and envy as she strutted her stuff and blew the opposition out of the water with ease. We were gallant losers and we offered sincere congratulations to the new Miss Tranquility 2011. With the beauty pageant winner decided, we moved onto the night's disco. The theme was schoolgirls and so I dressed up in my white blouse, school tie, pinafore. proper schoolgirl knickers, socks and mary janes. I put a sweet little pink bow on a headband into my hair and Jasmine the very cute schoolgirl was born. Everyone commented on how convincing and lovely a schoolgirl I made, which of course made me glow with pleasure. Many photos were taken and I danced away in my schoolgirl's outfit with abandon, thoroughly loving the experience. Saturday morning found me popping out early to buy a paper dressed in a denim mini-skirt, lacy top, grey tights, low heeled shoes and a pink overcoat that I had bought specially for this event. I was nervous and self-conscious but there were few people about at that time in the morning and those that saw me didn't give me a second glance. I was just a young woman, out and about as far as I was concerned. I purchased my paper and returned to the hotel, exhilarated by my first excursion en femme. I made a second excursion to the seafront. I was dressed in exactly the same way as before. But this time, it was a hideous mistake. It was the afternoon and there were many more people around. My nervousness heightened. Two men seemed to mistake me for an acquaintance and called out to me and they of course read me. There was no unpleasantness, only surprise on the part of the men and nervousness on my part. I retreated to the sanctury of the hotel. I spent the day looking over some trade stalls that had appeared in the hotel over the course of the morning and I bagged a sexy black negligee, a satin garter belt, a little black dress and a pair of frilly red knickers for a very reasonable price. In the evening there was a caberet, with a fabulous looking and funny drag queen and another disco. I spent the evening talking to people and made some new friends. I felt far more confident as Jasmine and I was wearing a gorgeous blouse and a long length skirt, which I received many compliments on. It was easy to break the ice because you could make a favourable comment on some of the lovely outfits that were being worn and everyone was relaxed and very easy going. I am far more confident and relaxed when dressed en femme and socialising with other TV's. The following day was spent in much the same way. Some shopping at the trade stalls and sitting in the bar and trading our accounts of our lives to date and how we got addicted to being ladies. But, for me, I was less concerned with the past than with the future. Specifically, my future development as a feminine male. Just how far am I going to take this? A year before I had never attended a single TV event and I had dressed only in the privacy of my own home. Now, I was attending my second TV event (with a third only a few weeks away) and itching to get outside as Jasmine. I am normally very timid and indecisive in most areas of my life, but when it comes to dressing I seem to want to push at the boundaries, heedless of the consequences and pitfalls. I would very much like to begin transitioning into a female, as I adore femininity and I know that I am more feminine in nature than masculine. But there are obstacles. Coming out would certainly damage and even possibly cause the abrupt termination of my relationship with my family and my friends. I could hurt people that I love and who I want in my life even if it does mean having to play a part which I am becoming increasingly unfitted to play. I had much to ponder over the course of the weekend and I am still undecided. There was a mock wedding in the afternoon. For some reason, the bride's entrance was delayed and we spent a lot of time hanging about. When the bride did eventually appear, she was beautiful and radiant in a white satin gown and veil. It was a beautiful ceremony. The last night of the event was spent, by me at any rate, talking to my sisters, empathising with each other, giving constructive criticism on our presentation, and sharing the stories of our lives. It was kind of like a slumber party, but without any PJ's around. The winners of another competition "Coverbabe Spring Princess" were announced and I couldnt have been more pleased that one of my new friends, Nicole, was one of the winners. Nicole is petite, sweet and very feminine and she had told me that she had spent a fortune on her appearance during a long conversation I had with her. The evening gradually wound down and, with great reluctance, I retired to bed and put off my skirts. I can't wait until May, when another TV event and the chance to allow Jasmine to come out to play presents itself. (Not sure why it has come out as one big block of text. I did put lines in but the blog has ignored them Jasmine :( )
Thursday, 17 March 2011
Be careful what you wish for.......
Gary watched with disdain as his little twin sisters pranced and danced before the small audience, whose members were delighted by the loveliness of the little ballerinas and the skill of their performance. They clapped politely.
Gary reluctantly joined in. He forced himself to fix his mouth into a smile, but he was thinking Girls! How I hate them, the happy, simpering little dolls!
The two girls clad in pink, sparkly ballerina outfits, curtsied their thanks. And earned another ripple of applause from their audience.
Girls! Gary thought malevolently. All they have to do is skip and dance and smile and dress up in pretty clothes and the world loves them! A boy like me has no chance to get any attention with them around!
Gary was twelve. On the cusp of manhood. He was five years older than his twin sisters, Melissa and Melanie. "The Two Mels", as they liked to be known. He had thought that as the only boy, he would be the focus of attention and, until his sisters had been born, that had been true.
But as soon as the two Mels were born, Gary gradually found himself being pushed into the background. The two girls seemed to effortlessly win everyone over by their charm, grace and wit and everyone was all over them, giving them attention and affection.
It didn't help that, as well as being pretty and sweet, the two Mels were talented dancers and were also little stars in the classroom. By comparison, Gary's academic ability was average at best. He was good at sports, but did not shine. He had no trophies to show off, to allow his family to take pride in him for a change.
Then, a year ago, Gary's parents had split up. Gary's father was resentful of his wife's success and superior earning power. His ego could not handle not being the provider. Gary remembered his father's suppressed fury - and impotence - the endless rows between his parents, and, finally, his father packing his bags and leaving the family home.
Gary saw his father once every eight weeks. The meetings were strained. Father and son had no idea what to say to each other beyond each asking how the other was doing. His father knew that he had put himself and his pride before his family, but was still too proud to admit that he was wrong. And he knew that his son knew it too. Embarressing silences filled much of the time.
At their last meeting, Dad had driven him out to a ice skating rink. Once they had had their fill of skating, Dad bought each of them a coke and took Gary aside for "a man to man chat". Dad explained that he had found someone else. A pretty young bar maid he had met whilst he and his mates had frequented a pub near the building site where they worked for a liquid lunch every day. He knew that she was the woman for him, so he was filing for divorce.
Gary had to fight back tears. "Don't worry son" said Dad "Once the divorce is finalised, and I marry my new girl, I'll have a chat with your Mum. Persuade her to let you come and live with me. A son should be with his father. Learn how to be a man!" He slapped Gary manfully on the back.
"You do want to come and live with your Dad, don't you?"
Gary nodded miserably.
Another clap on the back followed that almost knocked out Gary out of his seat. "Good! You don't want to end up in a house filled with, and run by, women! God forbid!"
You didn't mind it. Until Mum started earning more than you! Gary thought acidly.
Dad drove him home, enthusing about the new, bright life that lay ahead for both of them. Once they got shot of the pesky womanfolk. Erin, his new girlfriend, wanted only to please him. She would be the perfect little housewife that Gary's mother had used to be. Until she got foolish notions in her head about having a career. A woman's true career, Gary's father told him, was caring for her man and her children. She should desire nothing more.
Gary held his tongue. He resented his sisters for their success and popularity, but he did not share his father's low opinion of womankind. He went to school with girls, after all, most of whom were cleverer and more talented than him. He couldn't imagine them as being content to have their horizons limited to being homemakers.
That last meeting had been nine weeks ago. Dad had cried off the scheduled meeting, saying he had too much on. Something about finding a nest for himself and his new woman. Mum had been enraged. When her anger had subsided, she had surprised Gary by taking him into her arms and comforting him. Gary had submitted to this for a minute, before breaking loose. He was not a small child to be comforted!
In the privacy of his room, however, he found that he had quite enjoyed the experience. He wondered if there was something wrong with him to have such feelings.
In the here and now, the two Mels departed to change for dinner. Mum herded them off to their bedroom. Gary stared after them wistfully. He wasn't keen on girls, but he was fascinated by their clothes. All those fine, shiny, sparkly, colourful materials. He constantly found himself wondering what to must be like to wear them. Maybe if he wore them, people might like him as well as his sisters.
He went upstairs to his own bedroom and lay on his bed. His mind was filled with the images of girls in pretty dresses, shoes, tights and underwear, prancing and preening about as if they ruled the world.
Which, in a sense, they did. For the rest of the world fell over themselves to fawn over the pretty creatures in their fine clothes.
Gary wished at that moment that he had something feminine in his room. Even a small piece of tulle or lace to hold. But there was nothing. A football, a chessboard, some tin soldiers that belonged not only to Gary, but his father and grandfather before him.
Except. The ring.
Gary reached into the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out a silver ring with a bright blue sapphire stone set in it. Gary had found it a few weeks ago when a penny had rolled into the large hole in one of his floorboards. He had stuck his hand inside expecting to find a small round shape and had been surprised to pull out the ring.
It had been covered in dust and grime. It must have been there for a long time. Gary managed to clean it up one afternoon whilst his mum had run his sisters to cheerleading practice.
It was old and had clearly once belonged to a lady, but Gary had decided to keep it and to keep it a secret from his mother and sisters. He had not yet tried it on.
Tentatively, he slipped the ring onto the index finger of his left hand. He instinctively knew on which finger the ring should be worn. To his delight it fit perfectly. As if it had been made just for him.
Gary blushed. What a silly notion! This ring had been crafted for a real lady, not a boy with foolish fancies in his head.
He lay on the bed again and briefly sank into a drowsy sleep. He dreamt of girls parading about in their frilly frocks, winning the world over with smiles where men had to win it by war or great accomplishment. Ah, to wear such gorgeous fabrics and flounces and fripperies! I wish I could be allowed to wear such wonderful creations!
Gary's blissful sleep was interupted by the sound of his mother's voice, bidding him to come and have his dinner.
Gary leapt off his bed and made for the door. Then remembered he was still wearing the ring! He hurriedly slid it off his finger and put into the drawer. As he closed the drawer, he could have sworn that the sapphire was glowing slightly. He dismissed the thought. That was quite impossible. It was a simple ring. A beautiful one, to be sure, but just a ring.
Gary awoke the following morning to the sight of his mother's smiling face. He was astonished, for it was 9:08 on a Thursday morning. His mother, a notorious workaholic, was usually bundling herself and her children out of the house and into the car for the school run by 7:30 at the latest amidst a maelstrom of barely organised chaos.
"Mum? Shouldn't you be at work? And shouldn't I be at school?" He leapt out of bed, searching for his school clothes.
Mum shrugged "I took the day off. Actually, I've taken the next two weeks off!".
Gary gaped at her. Since Mum had been promoted to Area Manager, three years ago, she had had no more than the odd day off here and there. When, during one of their most bitter rows, Dad had said Mum never wanted to go on holiday anymore, like in the good old days, Mum had retorted that for her, work was like being on holiday.
Gary had believed that. So his mother's announcement was truly astonishing.
"And I've told the school you and the girls are being taken out of school for those two weeks too. We're going to have some fun as a family for a change!"
Again, Gary was amazed. For years, Mum had drilled into all their heads that being at school and doing well at school was the most important thing in their lives. Mum had even hired tutors during the summer for additional tuition. Now she was suddenly pulling them from school?
Gary thought. Two weeks holiday from school wasn't so bad. Maybe Mum would take them on a proper holiday to somewhere exotic and exciting.
"Are we going on holiday, Mum?" he asked her.
"No, we're staying right here".
Gary was puzzled "You mean we're just going to hang around here? And do what?"
"Ah! That's for me to know and you to find out, sweetie! I've run a bath for you. Hurry up and get into it!"
Gary obeyed. The bath was warm and refreshing. There was a strange fragrance emanating from the bath, but it was not unpleasant. Mum had left one of her own towelling robes for Gary to wear. It was pink, with a white daisy pattern all over it. Gary felt a little embarressed to be wearing it, but it felt good.
Gary fleetingly wondered what was like to wear some of his mother's other clothes. She mostly wore trousers these days, but still had some frocks in her wardrobe for formal occasions.
Mum had cooked breakfast. Gary sheepishly sidled into the room in his feminine robe, but instead of the expected titters and derision from his sisters, he received compliments.
"You look lovely in that robe, Gary" said Melanie, with a simple sincerity.
"It has lovely patterns!" commented Melissa "You should wear it more often!"
"Yes" said Mum "The girls are right. As always. I'll tell you what, Gary, you can keep the robe. It's yours!"
The girls clapped their hands in glee.
Gary's cheeks reddened slightly. If his mates saw him wearing this....but he said "Thanks".
Once everyone had finished eating, and Mum had loaded up the dishwasher, Mum took Gary by the hand and gently led him to the living room and sat him down on a sofa. Mum sat beside him and out her arm around him.
"The girls and I have put our heads together Gary. We're aware you been left out. It's all been about the girls, with their ballet, and their cheerleading and just being the lovely creatures they are. It isn't fair, I know, so we've decided to include you. We're going to make you into a girl too!"
Gary looked at her earnest face. She meant every word of what she had just said.
"And not just a girl" piped up Melanie "But a little girl. Just like me and Mel!"
"Yep, that's right" said Mum with enthusiasm "We're going to become a family of girls. Once big girl. That's me. And three sweet little girls!"
This was getting a little scary for Gary. Not just the prospect of becoming a little girl of all things. But the sudden, weird enthusiasm of his mother and sisters for it to happen. They had never before asked him to be included in anything even vaguely feminine.
But he was also excited at the idea. This was what he had secretly wanted, after all, to experience wearing what the girls did.
Mum patted his hand "And all you have to do, sweetie, is let go, let it all happen and enjoy yourself".
Gary suddenly had no intention of doing any such thing. He was thoroughly shaken. "What has gotten into you? All of you?" he shouted "I'm a twelve year old boy, for pete's sake! Not a girl, and certainly not a little girl!"
The girls burst into tears. Gary was shocked at their genuine distress. They each clung to one of his legs and begged him to be their pretty sister. Gary didn't know what to do.
Mum hugged him as well. Gary felt smothered by his female relatives.
Mum released him and said "Just try it. For a day. For us. And if you decide that you don't like it, you can be a boy again".
Gary thought about it. One day doing what he had secretly dreamed of would be bearable. And it would please his Mum and sisters.
"OK. Just for one day though!"
Mum smiled sweetly and the girls cheered and clapped and smothered him with kisses.
Three hours later, Gary stood in his mother's bedroom, staring in disbelief at his own reflection in the wardrobe mirror.
He wore a bright yellow satin frock, with a wide sash ending in a large bow at the small of his back. His little skirt ended at the top of his thighs. He wore layers of white silken petticoats underneath his skirt. His arms were mostly bare, except for the puffy sleeves of the dress, edged with white lace. The dress included a frilled collar. Underneath the dress, Gary wore a white vest edged in lace and a pair of satin white knickers that had layer upon layer of frills on the panels. Gary wore a pair of white lacy ankle socks and a pair of shiny black mary jane shoes.
A little light make up had been applied to Gary's face but the effect was startling. With a few light brushes of cosmetics, Gary's features were softened and feminised. He looked just like a girl. As his hair was too short, he wore a blonde wig of ringlets into which yellow bows had been tied.
Gary felt humiliated to be dressed in such a way. His legs were bare and hairless (his bath, Mum had told him, had contained a strong depilatory. He would not be growing any more hair for some weeks) and he was conscious always of the swaying of his skirts and petticoats and that his frilled underwear was often peeping out.
He was a twelve year old boy, but he looked just like one of his sisters!
Mum had gone shopping to the town's most expensive department store and she had bought him the outfit he now wore. He had had no idea that there were little girls around as tall as him but his Mum had said that the store's girlswear section had dresses and underwear in men's sizes.
"Doesn't he look adorable?" said Melanie, in rapt awe
"Doesn't SHE look adorable?" her mother corrected her "This is your sister, after all. She's to be as much a girl as the rest of us!"
"But only for a day!" Gary was quick to remind her.
Mum smiled, but said nothing.
"You look very pretty....sister!" said Melissa.
"We can't be going around referring to her as 'sister'. She needs a proper name! What do you think, girls?"
"I like Maisie! Maisie is a good name!" exclaimed Melissa.
"No!" Melanie objected "That's a rubbish name! Sophie is a much better name".
"No, it isn't!"
"Is, too!"
"Isn't!"
"Girls, girls, stop! If you can't agree on your new sister's name, I will choose one!" Mum thought for a moment "I know. Grace. That's the perfect name!"
The two Mels thought so too "Mum, you are so clever!" they chorused.
"Hang on" said Gary " Don't I get any say in this?"
"No!" came a chorus of female voices.
The two Mels each took one of their new sister's hand "Come along, Gracie, and play with us!"
Gary spent the next two hours feeding his sisters' baby doll with a bottle, feeling highly embarressed. His sisters assumed the role as his supervisors, teaching him the finer points of feeding "baby", changing her nappy, dressing her and cuddling her.
Gary was enjoying the sensations of his new clothes. The feel of satins and silks on his body and most especially his underwear, the feel of a skirt swaying against his legs and the sight of lace and frills every time he chanced to look at himself. The wearing of such clothes was a delight!
But having a girl's name, being referred to by feminine pronouns and doing girlish things? It was too much! A day would be the most that he could endure of this!
In the afternoon, Gary donned an apron and helped his sisters bake cookies. He found it a strange experience. All this domesticity, typical of a girlish upbringing. They had a competition to see how could bake the best cookies. Mum judged the final produce and proclaimed Grace was the winner. The girls kissed and congratulated him.
In the evening, all of the little girls sat together on the sofa, dressed in pink satin PJ's and watched "Dancing Princess". This was a movie for girls of the two Mels' age, but Grace was trapped between his sisters' warm bodies and had to endure it.
"Time for bed, girls!" Mum suddenly announced. Grace looked at the clock "But...it's only seven o'clock!"
"Yep. Good spot, Gracie. And that's the time when all little girls like you should be tucked up in bed".
Grace was about to retort that he was no little girl. But he remembered his promise. He consoled himself that he could put off his girl things tomorrow with a clear conscience and become Gary again.
Gary woke the next morning to find Mum sitting on his bed, beaming at him.
Gary decided to come straight to the point "Mum. I don't want to be a girl. I want my normal clothes back"
He had expected disappointment. Even rage. Instead, Mum laughed.
"What's so funny?"
"You, you silly goose! You won't find any boys' clothes in this house! I've locked them away!"
"What!!! But you said....."
"I know what I said. But what I intended. All along. Was that you would become my little girl! Get used to your frocks and frillies, because that's what you'll be wearing from now on!"
"Mum, please! I'm a twelve year old boy! I can't go around in a frock and frilly knicker things!"
"No, you just need to adjust your perception of yourself. You are a seven year old girl now! And you will love wearing pretty clothes and underwear and playing with dolls and just being a girl!"
Grace was aghast. He begged and pleaded pathetically with his mother to change her mind, but without access to his male clothes, she had the power.
Mum took Grace on a shopping trip to the department store and Grace was made to carry her dolly. Grace refused to leave the car. She was to ashamed to be seen in public dressed as she was. Mum firmly dragged her out and forced her to expose herself to the public as an oversized little girl.
Grace went beet red and tried to pull her dress down to hide her knickers.
Grace cried and threw a tantrum and refused to budge. Mum was furious.
"You naughty little girl! You're behaving like a big baby! I know, If you continue to act like a baby, I'll buy you a nappy, and a pink romper suit and treat you like one. You'll be spoon fed and will have to poop in your nappy! How do you like the idea of that?"
Grace became silent, got to her feet and took her mother's hand.
"That's a good girl!"
At the department store, Mum bought up the girlswears' department's most exquisite creations. Grace looked forlornly at the boyswear section.
A sullen Grace returned home and watched as her new dresses and underwear were unloaded and installed in her sisters' wardrobe. She cried as she contemplated having to wear her new clothes.
Mum announced that her daughters would henceforth sleep together in the room used by the two Mels up to that point. Grace found herself in a perfumed, silken, ultra feminine bedroom, living as a girl, amongst girls.
The three "girls" did everything together. Ballet, cheerleading, baton twirling, playing house, with make up. Grace made a very sweet ballerina and found that she was quite good at dancing. The three elegant ballerinas danced together for their mother's pleasure.
Inevitably, Grace not only became used to her new clothes and her new existence, she became as feminine and girlish as her sisters. In some ways, much to their amusement, more so. Grace was hopelessly addicted to feminine frills and fripperies and loved the feel of rich materials against her body.
Grace especially liked her ring, which she had recovered from its hiding place and wore openly. It glowed faintly. In an earlier existence, Gary had dismissed this as a fantasy, but the little girl Grace recognised the ring as a source of power.
Gary had made a wish that he should be allowed to wear girls' clothing whilst wearing the ring and it had happened the very next day. Grace could have easily wished to undo her earlier wish and return to boyhood. But, by now, she had become as much a girl as her sisters and they totally accepted her as a beloved sister. She could never give that up.
But her sisters were growing up and wising up. They were cleverer and more accomplished than Grace. They quickly put off their petticoats and frillies, which Grace was anxious to cling on to, and adopted more masculine attire. The once ultra feminine girls had become more masculine than the sister who had once been their brother and who was now the most feminine of the three sisters.
Their mother was amused to see Melissa and Melanie dressed in jeans and shirts, working on fixing a motorbike, whilst her once son remained in frocks, at her embroidery.
Mum had Grace's ring in her pocket. Grace so trusted her now that she had asked her to look after it for her. She knew its power. It granted wishes. She sensed that the original owner had made a wish many years ago, but had lost the ring. Grace had been granted her wish. She sensed that there was one wish left. Best to make a big one, best not to waste it....Mum took a deep breath and made her wish.........
Grace was watching TV, whilst painting her nails. She now kept house for her sisters, who both had high-flying careers. It worked well for them and Grace was happy. Grace was a good homemaker. Remember that cookie contest she had beaten her sisters at all those years ago?
Grace was watching a daytime TV show entitled "What has happened to our boys??????"
The presenter, Kayleigh McKeith, delivered her introduction "Boys. Once the future of masculinity. Interested only in chasing girls, football and other rugged manly pursuits. But suddenly, ten years ago, the testosterene just seemed to drain out of our boys! They became positively addicted to all things feminine! Boys who were once jocks and nerds traded their trousers in for frocks and mary janes! Their sisters were more than pleased to hand over their clothes and the traditions bound up in thousands of years of femininity to their brothers and assume the more masculine role. Traditional gender roles and dress were completely switched in less than a single generation. Scientists remain baffled by this sudden and inexplicable development".
"I'd like to introduce you to Kylie (who used to be called Kyle!) who originally wanted to become a professional wrestler but who now openly wears dresses and make up and wants to become a beautician....."
From the shadows, Mum smiled and patted the ring in her pocket.
Gary reluctantly joined in. He forced himself to fix his mouth into a smile, but he was thinking Girls! How I hate them, the happy, simpering little dolls!
The two girls clad in pink, sparkly ballerina outfits, curtsied their thanks. And earned another ripple of applause from their audience.
Girls! Gary thought malevolently. All they have to do is skip and dance and smile and dress up in pretty clothes and the world loves them! A boy like me has no chance to get any attention with them around!
Gary was twelve. On the cusp of manhood. He was five years older than his twin sisters, Melissa and Melanie. "The Two Mels", as they liked to be known. He had thought that as the only boy, he would be the focus of attention and, until his sisters had been born, that had been true.
But as soon as the two Mels were born, Gary gradually found himself being pushed into the background. The two girls seemed to effortlessly win everyone over by their charm, grace and wit and everyone was all over them, giving them attention and affection.
It didn't help that, as well as being pretty and sweet, the two Mels were talented dancers and were also little stars in the classroom. By comparison, Gary's academic ability was average at best. He was good at sports, but did not shine. He had no trophies to show off, to allow his family to take pride in him for a change.
Then, a year ago, Gary's parents had split up. Gary's father was resentful of his wife's success and superior earning power. His ego could not handle not being the provider. Gary remembered his father's suppressed fury - and impotence - the endless rows between his parents, and, finally, his father packing his bags and leaving the family home.
Gary saw his father once every eight weeks. The meetings were strained. Father and son had no idea what to say to each other beyond each asking how the other was doing. His father knew that he had put himself and his pride before his family, but was still too proud to admit that he was wrong. And he knew that his son knew it too. Embarressing silences filled much of the time.
At their last meeting, Dad had driven him out to a ice skating rink. Once they had had their fill of skating, Dad bought each of them a coke and took Gary aside for "a man to man chat". Dad explained that he had found someone else. A pretty young bar maid he had met whilst he and his mates had frequented a pub near the building site where they worked for a liquid lunch every day. He knew that she was the woman for him, so he was filing for divorce.
Gary had to fight back tears. "Don't worry son" said Dad "Once the divorce is finalised, and I marry my new girl, I'll have a chat with your Mum. Persuade her to let you come and live with me. A son should be with his father. Learn how to be a man!" He slapped Gary manfully on the back.
"You do want to come and live with your Dad, don't you?"
Gary nodded miserably.
Another clap on the back followed that almost knocked out Gary out of his seat. "Good! You don't want to end up in a house filled with, and run by, women! God forbid!"
You didn't mind it. Until Mum started earning more than you! Gary thought acidly.
Dad drove him home, enthusing about the new, bright life that lay ahead for both of them. Once they got shot of the pesky womanfolk. Erin, his new girlfriend, wanted only to please him. She would be the perfect little housewife that Gary's mother had used to be. Until she got foolish notions in her head about having a career. A woman's true career, Gary's father told him, was caring for her man and her children. She should desire nothing more.
Gary held his tongue. He resented his sisters for their success and popularity, but he did not share his father's low opinion of womankind. He went to school with girls, after all, most of whom were cleverer and more talented than him. He couldn't imagine them as being content to have their horizons limited to being homemakers.
That last meeting had been nine weeks ago. Dad had cried off the scheduled meeting, saying he had too much on. Something about finding a nest for himself and his new woman. Mum had been enraged. When her anger had subsided, she had surprised Gary by taking him into her arms and comforting him. Gary had submitted to this for a minute, before breaking loose. He was not a small child to be comforted!
In the privacy of his room, however, he found that he had quite enjoyed the experience. He wondered if there was something wrong with him to have such feelings.
In the here and now, the two Mels departed to change for dinner. Mum herded them off to their bedroom. Gary stared after them wistfully. He wasn't keen on girls, but he was fascinated by their clothes. All those fine, shiny, sparkly, colourful materials. He constantly found himself wondering what to must be like to wear them. Maybe if he wore them, people might like him as well as his sisters.
He went upstairs to his own bedroom and lay on his bed. His mind was filled with the images of girls in pretty dresses, shoes, tights and underwear, prancing and preening about as if they ruled the world.
Which, in a sense, they did. For the rest of the world fell over themselves to fawn over the pretty creatures in their fine clothes.
Gary wished at that moment that he had something feminine in his room. Even a small piece of tulle or lace to hold. But there was nothing. A football, a chessboard, some tin soldiers that belonged not only to Gary, but his father and grandfather before him.
Except. The ring.
Gary reached into the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out a silver ring with a bright blue sapphire stone set in it. Gary had found it a few weeks ago when a penny had rolled into the large hole in one of his floorboards. He had stuck his hand inside expecting to find a small round shape and had been surprised to pull out the ring.
It had been covered in dust and grime. It must have been there for a long time. Gary managed to clean it up one afternoon whilst his mum had run his sisters to cheerleading practice.
It was old and had clearly once belonged to a lady, but Gary had decided to keep it and to keep it a secret from his mother and sisters. He had not yet tried it on.
Tentatively, he slipped the ring onto the index finger of his left hand. He instinctively knew on which finger the ring should be worn. To his delight it fit perfectly. As if it had been made just for him.
Gary blushed. What a silly notion! This ring had been crafted for a real lady, not a boy with foolish fancies in his head.
He lay on the bed again and briefly sank into a drowsy sleep. He dreamt of girls parading about in their frilly frocks, winning the world over with smiles where men had to win it by war or great accomplishment. Ah, to wear such gorgeous fabrics and flounces and fripperies! I wish I could be allowed to wear such wonderful creations!
Gary's blissful sleep was interupted by the sound of his mother's voice, bidding him to come and have his dinner.
Gary leapt off his bed and made for the door. Then remembered he was still wearing the ring! He hurriedly slid it off his finger and put into the drawer. As he closed the drawer, he could have sworn that the sapphire was glowing slightly. He dismissed the thought. That was quite impossible. It was a simple ring. A beautiful one, to be sure, but just a ring.
Gary awoke the following morning to the sight of his mother's smiling face. He was astonished, for it was 9:08 on a Thursday morning. His mother, a notorious workaholic, was usually bundling herself and her children out of the house and into the car for the school run by 7:30 at the latest amidst a maelstrom of barely organised chaos.
"Mum? Shouldn't you be at work? And shouldn't I be at school?" He leapt out of bed, searching for his school clothes.
Mum shrugged "I took the day off. Actually, I've taken the next two weeks off!".
Gary gaped at her. Since Mum had been promoted to Area Manager, three years ago, she had had no more than the odd day off here and there. When, during one of their most bitter rows, Dad had said Mum never wanted to go on holiday anymore, like in the good old days, Mum had retorted that for her, work was like being on holiday.
Gary had believed that. So his mother's announcement was truly astonishing.
"And I've told the school you and the girls are being taken out of school for those two weeks too. We're going to have some fun as a family for a change!"
Again, Gary was amazed. For years, Mum had drilled into all their heads that being at school and doing well at school was the most important thing in their lives. Mum had even hired tutors during the summer for additional tuition. Now she was suddenly pulling them from school?
Gary thought. Two weeks holiday from school wasn't so bad. Maybe Mum would take them on a proper holiday to somewhere exotic and exciting.
"Are we going on holiday, Mum?" he asked her.
"No, we're staying right here".
Gary was puzzled "You mean we're just going to hang around here? And do what?"
"Ah! That's for me to know and you to find out, sweetie! I've run a bath for you. Hurry up and get into it!"
Gary obeyed. The bath was warm and refreshing. There was a strange fragrance emanating from the bath, but it was not unpleasant. Mum had left one of her own towelling robes for Gary to wear. It was pink, with a white daisy pattern all over it. Gary felt a little embarressed to be wearing it, but it felt good.
Gary fleetingly wondered what was like to wear some of his mother's other clothes. She mostly wore trousers these days, but still had some frocks in her wardrobe for formal occasions.
Mum had cooked breakfast. Gary sheepishly sidled into the room in his feminine robe, but instead of the expected titters and derision from his sisters, he received compliments.
"You look lovely in that robe, Gary" said Melanie, with a simple sincerity.
"It has lovely patterns!" commented Melissa "You should wear it more often!"
"Yes" said Mum "The girls are right. As always. I'll tell you what, Gary, you can keep the robe. It's yours!"
The girls clapped their hands in glee.
Gary's cheeks reddened slightly. If his mates saw him wearing this....but he said "Thanks".
Once everyone had finished eating, and Mum had loaded up the dishwasher, Mum took Gary by the hand and gently led him to the living room and sat him down on a sofa. Mum sat beside him and out her arm around him.
"The girls and I have put our heads together Gary. We're aware you been left out. It's all been about the girls, with their ballet, and their cheerleading and just being the lovely creatures they are. It isn't fair, I know, so we've decided to include you. We're going to make you into a girl too!"
Gary looked at her earnest face. She meant every word of what she had just said.
"And not just a girl" piped up Melanie "But a little girl. Just like me and Mel!"
"Yep, that's right" said Mum with enthusiasm "We're going to become a family of girls. Once big girl. That's me. And three sweet little girls!"
This was getting a little scary for Gary. Not just the prospect of becoming a little girl of all things. But the sudden, weird enthusiasm of his mother and sisters for it to happen. They had never before asked him to be included in anything even vaguely feminine.
But he was also excited at the idea. This was what he had secretly wanted, after all, to experience wearing what the girls did.
Mum patted his hand "And all you have to do, sweetie, is let go, let it all happen and enjoy yourself".
Gary suddenly had no intention of doing any such thing. He was thoroughly shaken. "What has gotten into you? All of you?" he shouted "I'm a twelve year old boy, for pete's sake! Not a girl, and certainly not a little girl!"
The girls burst into tears. Gary was shocked at their genuine distress. They each clung to one of his legs and begged him to be their pretty sister. Gary didn't know what to do.
Mum hugged him as well. Gary felt smothered by his female relatives.
Mum released him and said "Just try it. For a day. For us. And if you decide that you don't like it, you can be a boy again".
Gary thought about it. One day doing what he had secretly dreamed of would be bearable. And it would please his Mum and sisters.
"OK. Just for one day though!"
Mum smiled sweetly and the girls cheered and clapped and smothered him with kisses.
Three hours later, Gary stood in his mother's bedroom, staring in disbelief at his own reflection in the wardrobe mirror.
He wore a bright yellow satin frock, with a wide sash ending in a large bow at the small of his back. His little skirt ended at the top of his thighs. He wore layers of white silken petticoats underneath his skirt. His arms were mostly bare, except for the puffy sleeves of the dress, edged with white lace. The dress included a frilled collar. Underneath the dress, Gary wore a white vest edged in lace and a pair of satin white knickers that had layer upon layer of frills on the panels. Gary wore a pair of white lacy ankle socks and a pair of shiny black mary jane shoes.
A little light make up had been applied to Gary's face but the effect was startling. With a few light brushes of cosmetics, Gary's features were softened and feminised. He looked just like a girl. As his hair was too short, he wore a blonde wig of ringlets into which yellow bows had been tied.
Gary felt humiliated to be dressed in such a way. His legs were bare and hairless (his bath, Mum had told him, had contained a strong depilatory. He would not be growing any more hair for some weeks) and he was conscious always of the swaying of his skirts and petticoats and that his frilled underwear was often peeping out.
He was a twelve year old boy, but he looked just like one of his sisters!
Mum had gone shopping to the town's most expensive department store and she had bought him the outfit he now wore. He had had no idea that there were little girls around as tall as him but his Mum had said that the store's girlswear section had dresses and underwear in men's sizes.
"Doesn't he look adorable?" said Melanie, in rapt awe
"Doesn't SHE look adorable?" her mother corrected her "This is your sister, after all. She's to be as much a girl as the rest of us!"
"But only for a day!" Gary was quick to remind her.
Mum smiled, but said nothing.
"You look very pretty....sister!" said Melissa.
"We can't be going around referring to her as 'sister'. She needs a proper name! What do you think, girls?"
"I like Maisie! Maisie is a good name!" exclaimed Melissa.
"No!" Melanie objected "That's a rubbish name! Sophie is a much better name".
"No, it isn't!"
"Is, too!"
"Isn't!"
"Girls, girls, stop! If you can't agree on your new sister's name, I will choose one!" Mum thought for a moment "I know. Grace. That's the perfect name!"
The two Mels thought so too "Mum, you are so clever!" they chorused.
"Hang on" said Gary " Don't I get any say in this?"
"No!" came a chorus of female voices.
The two Mels each took one of their new sister's hand "Come along, Gracie, and play with us!"
Gary spent the next two hours feeding his sisters' baby doll with a bottle, feeling highly embarressed. His sisters assumed the role as his supervisors, teaching him the finer points of feeding "baby", changing her nappy, dressing her and cuddling her.
Gary was enjoying the sensations of his new clothes. The feel of satins and silks on his body and most especially his underwear, the feel of a skirt swaying against his legs and the sight of lace and frills every time he chanced to look at himself. The wearing of such clothes was a delight!
But having a girl's name, being referred to by feminine pronouns and doing girlish things? It was too much! A day would be the most that he could endure of this!
In the afternoon, Gary donned an apron and helped his sisters bake cookies. He found it a strange experience. All this domesticity, typical of a girlish upbringing. They had a competition to see how could bake the best cookies. Mum judged the final produce and proclaimed Grace was the winner. The girls kissed and congratulated him.
In the evening, all of the little girls sat together on the sofa, dressed in pink satin PJ's and watched "Dancing Princess". This was a movie for girls of the two Mels' age, but Grace was trapped between his sisters' warm bodies and had to endure it.
"Time for bed, girls!" Mum suddenly announced. Grace looked at the clock "But...it's only seven o'clock!"
"Yep. Good spot, Gracie. And that's the time when all little girls like you should be tucked up in bed".
Grace was about to retort that he was no little girl. But he remembered his promise. He consoled himself that he could put off his girl things tomorrow with a clear conscience and become Gary again.
Gary woke the next morning to find Mum sitting on his bed, beaming at him.
Gary decided to come straight to the point "Mum. I don't want to be a girl. I want my normal clothes back"
He had expected disappointment. Even rage. Instead, Mum laughed.
"What's so funny?"
"You, you silly goose! You won't find any boys' clothes in this house! I've locked them away!"
"What!!! But you said....."
"I know what I said. But what I intended. All along. Was that you would become my little girl! Get used to your frocks and frillies, because that's what you'll be wearing from now on!"
"Mum, please! I'm a twelve year old boy! I can't go around in a frock and frilly knicker things!"
"No, you just need to adjust your perception of yourself. You are a seven year old girl now! And you will love wearing pretty clothes and underwear and playing with dolls and just being a girl!"
Grace was aghast. He begged and pleaded pathetically with his mother to change her mind, but without access to his male clothes, she had the power.
Mum took Grace on a shopping trip to the department store and Grace was made to carry her dolly. Grace refused to leave the car. She was to ashamed to be seen in public dressed as she was. Mum firmly dragged her out and forced her to expose herself to the public as an oversized little girl.
Grace went beet red and tried to pull her dress down to hide her knickers.
Grace cried and threw a tantrum and refused to budge. Mum was furious.
"You naughty little girl! You're behaving like a big baby! I know, If you continue to act like a baby, I'll buy you a nappy, and a pink romper suit and treat you like one. You'll be spoon fed and will have to poop in your nappy! How do you like the idea of that?"
Grace became silent, got to her feet and took her mother's hand.
"That's a good girl!"
At the department store, Mum bought up the girlswears' department's most exquisite creations. Grace looked forlornly at the boyswear section.
A sullen Grace returned home and watched as her new dresses and underwear were unloaded and installed in her sisters' wardrobe. She cried as she contemplated having to wear her new clothes.
Mum announced that her daughters would henceforth sleep together in the room used by the two Mels up to that point. Grace found herself in a perfumed, silken, ultra feminine bedroom, living as a girl, amongst girls.
The three "girls" did everything together. Ballet, cheerleading, baton twirling, playing house, with make up. Grace made a very sweet ballerina and found that she was quite good at dancing. The three elegant ballerinas danced together for their mother's pleasure.
Inevitably, Grace not only became used to her new clothes and her new existence, she became as feminine and girlish as her sisters. In some ways, much to their amusement, more so. Grace was hopelessly addicted to feminine frills and fripperies and loved the feel of rich materials against her body.
Grace especially liked her ring, which she had recovered from its hiding place and wore openly. It glowed faintly. In an earlier existence, Gary had dismissed this as a fantasy, but the little girl Grace recognised the ring as a source of power.
Gary had made a wish that he should be allowed to wear girls' clothing whilst wearing the ring and it had happened the very next day. Grace could have easily wished to undo her earlier wish and return to boyhood. But, by now, she had become as much a girl as her sisters and they totally accepted her as a beloved sister. She could never give that up.
But her sisters were growing up and wising up. They were cleverer and more accomplished than Grace. They quickly put off their petticoats and frillies, which Grace was anxious to cling on to, and adopted more masculine attire. The once ultra feminine girls had become more masculine than the sister who had once been their brother and who was now the most feminine of the three sisters.
Their mother was amused to see Melissa and Melanie dressed in jeans and shirts, working on fixing a motorbike, whilst her once son remained in frocks, at her embroidery.
Mum had Grace's ring in her pocket. Grace so trusted her now that she had asked her to look after it for her. She knew its power. It granted wishes. She sensed that the original owner had made a wish many years ago, but had lost the ring. Grace had been granted her wish. She sensed that there was one wish left. Best to make a big one, best not to waste it....Mum took a deep breath and made her wish.........
Grace was watching TV, whilst painting her nails. She now kept house for her sisters, who both had high-flying careers. It worked well for them and Grace was happy. Grace was a good homemaker. Remember that cookie contest she had beaten her sisters at all those years ago?
Grace was watching a daytime TV show entitled "What has happened to our boys??????"
The presenter, Kayleigh McKeith, delivered her introduction "Boys. Once the future of masculinity. Interested only in chasing girls, football and other rugged manly pursuits. But suddenly, ten years ago, the testosterene just seemed to drain out of our boys! They became positively addicted to all things feminine! Boys who were once jocks and nerds traded their trousers in for frocks and mary janes! Their sisters were more than pleased to hand over their clothes and the traditions bound up in thousands of years of femininity to their brothers and assume the more masculine role. Traditional gender roles and dress were completely switched in less than a single generation. Scientists remain baffled by this sudden and inexplicable development".
"I'd like to introduce you to Kylie (who used to be called Kyle!) who originally wanted to become a professional wrestler but who now openly wears dresses and make up and wants to become a beautician....."
From the shadows, Mum smiled and patted the ring in her pocket.
Tuesday, 8 March 2011
The Prodigal Son - Part 8 - The Wedding Guest
Ray stood in front of the mirror in his boudoir, feeling utterly foolish.
He was wearing a pink gown, made of silk, encumbered with many flounces, frills and lace edging. It was embedded with glittering sequins. The gown was off the shoulder and designed to show off the wearer's shoulders, back, arms and lower legs. Ray wore a pair of matching high heels.
He had had a complete makeover the previous day that had included waxing, eyebrow shaping, moisterising and nail art. There was not a stray hair on his body and his skin felt as smooth and soft as that of a young girl. His bare, shapely legs were on show for all to see.
"You look quite lovely, Ray" said his mother, a mature woman who wore a tuxedo, as all of the female participants in the wedding did.
She took one of his hands "Ray, come with me. I have a gift for you". Without waiting for a response, she gently pulled Ray along after her to her own bedroom. The house's "Mistress Bedroom" as she liked to call it, as she owned the house and the family business.
Ray noted that his mother's bedroom was more like a gentleman's study, dominated by an antique desk upon which sat a powerful computer terminal, and bookcases filled with books, not just about business management, but also art, history and classics. Ray had never known his mother to be so erudite.
His mother opened a drawer in her dresser and pulled out a walnut case. She handed it to him. "Go, on" she prompted "open it!"
Ray obeyed and found inside a diamond necklace, choker, tiara and matching earrings. These, he knew, were the family jewels passed down from one generation to the next.
But, usually, they were passed from mother to daughter. Not mother to son!
"Ray, as my eldest son, you should have these. In earlier times of course, they would have gone to Emma...but, society has changed so much! They are no use to me anymore, so I thought it was time to hand them onto the next generation. When you have a son, you should give them to him when he comes of age".
Ray looked at the jewellery collection with mixed feelings. There were no two ways about it. In addition to the various other feminine roles he had had to play over the last few weeks, he was now the equivalent of "eldest daughter" in the eyes of the women of his family. He was also touched at the generousity of his mother and the attendant intimacy between them, almost like a mother-daughter relationship.
But he was also ashamed. His masculinity was being broken down and eroded by degrees and this was another step on the road to the feminine existence that society seemed to want him to live, in stark contradiction to the role he had been brought up to play.
His mother could see the conflict going on within him and laid a hand on his arm "I know all this must be hard for you. You were brought up as a boy, after all, and now you're the one who has to be pretty and feminine. It will get easier, you'll see".
Tears welled up in Ray's eyes.
"Here, let me help you put on your jewellery. You should wear it for the wedding". Mother proceeded to put the necklace around Ray's neck, put his tiara in place and clip his earrings onto his lobes.
Ray felt nothing but shame, but submitted to the indignity of being decked out with the jewellery traditionally worn by the women of the family.
"You look very pretty!" said his mother "Come with me, Guy wants a quick chat with you". Mother took one of his hands and gently pulled him along to another room.
As they entered, Ray saw a tall figure dressed in an ivory wedding gown. From the back "she" looked like just any bride, but Ray knew his cousin, no matter what he was wearing.
Head down, he approached his cousin "Hi Guy" he said.
Guy turned around. He looked rather attractive. His face had been coated with expensive cosmetics and his hair styled to frame his rather feminine features. He wore his lace veil up at present.
His visage was marred by the sulky expression on his face.
"Hi Ray. Well, here I am, the beautiful, blushing bride to be! What the hell happened to us men that on my wedding day, I'M the one who has to trip down the aisle in a gown and veil?"
Ray shrugged. He had been locked away from the world for the last ten years.
But Guy had not been expecting an answer "Every girl's dream is for a white wedding, only nowadays, in this female utopia, it's us men who have to wear the white gowns! That bitch Gloria! Just because she earns more than me she gets to tell me what I can wear!"
Ray remained silent.
Guy wept. Ray started forward, to comfort him, only to be brushed off. He backed away.
"Once I'm married" Guy said in a whisper "I'll be her slave in all but name. I used to be an IT Manager, did you know that Ray? An IT Manager. I used to earn 100K a year, but then they got rid of me. For a woman. In the name of the equal representation act. I landed another job - after nine months of trying, and at a lower level and a lower salary, but whilst my career was going down the pan, Gloria's star was rising. From bank cashier, to supervisor, to assistant manager, to manager, then area manager and then a directorship. She earns four times what I do, and that's before her bonuses. In reality, it's ten times more!"
Ray was mystified "Then why are you marrying her?"
"Because she is seriously rich and getting richer with every passing moment! If I have to be a housewife, at least I'll be a housewife for a successful woman. Yep, I'll be a housewife in all but name. Cleaning, sewing, doing the shopping, ironing and laundry, and then, when the kids come along, I'll become a nursemaid too!"
"You wanted to talk to me?" Ray reminded him.
"Oh, yeah. If you can, avoid all of this feminine bullshit. I hate every moment of it! High heels! Make Up! Thongs and bras! No man should have to wear such things! But most of us have no choice!"
Ray's face went red, for he was wearing a lace thong underneath his dress.
Ray considered this. He could turn his back on all of this. His criminal credentials could earn him a position as a gopher for someone like Vince Reardon and he could dress as a traditional male. He could regain something of a masculine existence. This seemed quite appealing for a while until Ray recognised that, sooner or later, he would get caught and end up in prison again. Or end up like Doug, a marginalised man desperate to pull any deal going.
But he would be on his own. His mother and sisters, who held all of the wealth and power in his family, would say "Fine. Be a real man. But you'll be one without any help or support from us". He would end up in some grotty accommodation, living at subsistence level and trying to avoid the police. It was no longer a life that appealed to him.
Ray realised with shame that he was becoming not only used to being treated like a princess, he was becoming dependant on it. He had a lovely bedroom, a wardrobe bulging with gorgeous dresses and exquisite lingerie He wanted for nothing. Except masculinity. As shaming as having to dress as a girl was, it was infinitely preferable to the alternative.
Besides, weeks of feminisation had taken their toll on his natural masculinity. It was impossible for him to be masculine dressed as he was. His personality and instincts were becoming more feminine.
Ray and Guy were interupted by the entry into the room of Ray's mother and sisters, all wearing tailor made tuxedos "Ah, there you are Ray. With the blushing bridegroom! How pretty you both look!"
The men shuddered.
"Oh, come on now. You do look pretty! It's nothing to be ashamed of. Guy, you look adorable in your lace veil and Ray, your dress fits you very well. Come now, Ray, we should take our places".
"Remember what I said" Guy whispered to him "Become a man again before it's too late!"
Ray sat with his mother and sisters and watched the wedding ceremony. Ray guessed that, underneath his veil, Guy's face was a picture of misery. He was attended by his brothers, dressed in cream bridesmaids' dresses. The bride, Gloria, stood confidently in her tuxedo, in complete control.
Beside him, his sisters giggled "Gloria showed me the dildo she intends to use on Guy tonight!" said Heather "It's the biggest one she could find. A real monster! Poor Guy!" The girls collapsed in a fit of giggles.
The ceremony was lovely but marred for Ray by the persistent buzzing coming from his mobile phone. Thankfully, he had had the sense to put it on vibrate rather than have an audible ring tone. Ray knew it was Doug and he dreaded having to call him back.
The party moved on to a hotel, which had been booked for the reception. Ray was asked to dance by several of the ladies present, including the bride. Gradually, the party began to wind down once the bride and groom had left. Heather had imbided too much wine and had fallen asleep, curled up on a couch. Mother was nowhere in sight. Emma was looking green and unsteady.
"I'm not used to drinking so much" she confessed "I'm off to the ladies. Look after my briefcase" she told him. She bolted off rapidly. It was clear that she was on the verge of being sick.
Emma had insisted bringing some of her work with her. She was a workaholic. Ray looked at the smart black briefcase and suddenly it dawned on him that it could hold the vital information he and Doug needed. Moving slowly and carefully, so as to avoid waking Heather, he opened up the briefcase and rooted around inside.
He found a notebook with Emma's scribblings all over it. Something about a marketing strategy, although most of it went over Ray's head. Some typed documents about revenue and expenditure. A book written by a world renowned billionairess about how to succeed in business. And a very small notepad. The notepad contained Emma's password for her workstation and her PIN numbers for her numerous bank and credit cards.
Ray grew excited. The password for the safe must be in here! He was only a page or so away from finding it! But he stopped himself. What on earth was he thinking? He was robbing his own family! He immediately put the notepad back in the briefcase and put the briefcase back where he had found it.
He was shaking when Emma returned, looking more like her usual self "What's wrong, Ray? Did you have too much wine too?" Ray nodded.
Emma woke Heather "I think it's time we all went home. Come on sleepyhead! Time for us to leave".
They rode a taxi home. On the way, Ray had come to a decision. He would have to tell Doug that he was pulling out of the robbery. He had managed to send a text off to Doug with words to that effect. Oddly, there had been no reply.
The mobile phone remained silent the over the next few days. Ray was puzzled. He had expected Ray to have fired back an angry response. But there was nothing. Maybe even Doug had realised that the robbery was a non starter. Ray shrugged. As far as he was concerned, it was not his problem anymore.
Monday came around and Ray went into work in his usual secretary outfit of blouse, short skirt and high heels. He was proud of the job he had done with his make up. He was becoming very adept at wielding brushes and lipsticks.
The morning passed quickly. After lunching with the boys and catching up on office gossip, Ray returned to his workstation. He was typing a letter for one of the female managers when his phone rang. It was reception. Malcolm, the pretty blonde currently manning reception told him he had a visitor and he needed to come down to reception to sign him in.
Ray was confused. He was not expecting any visitors. He took the lift and rode it down to the ground floor. He emerged from the lift to a shocking scene. Malcolm, a petitely built boy, was being held at gunpoint by a man wearing a skirt and blouse.
Doug.
If the situation had not been so desperate, Ray would have burst out laughing, for Doug looked ridiculous. He had made no effort at all with his presentation. He had merely donned a skirt and blouse. He had hairy legs and arms and he had clearly not shaved that morning.
"Ray! Help me!" Malcolm begged him. Then he swooned and fainted. Doug let him fall to the floor.
"Bloody soft little pansy!" Doug spat.
"Doug, what do you think you're doing?" Ray asked him.
Doug gave him a hard look "Doing? What does it look like I'm doing, you stupid bitch? I'm robbing this place!"
"Are you crazy? I thought we agreed to call the whole thing off!"
"No, you called it off. But I haven't. I'm desperate for the money". Doug pointed his gun at Ray "Now, bitch, you been no use to me so far but you'll make a decent enough hostage". Doug jammed the gun into Ray's back and steered him towards the lift. Doug made Ray select the floor where the safe was. In his sister's office. He was leading this nutter to his sister, but there was nothing he could do about it. Not with a gun in his back.
They got out of the lift. Doug shouted "I've got a gun! If anyone tries to stop me or tries to call the police, this bitch gets blown away, ok?"
The staff were shocked and offered no resistance. Ray led Doug to Emma's office. Her secretary's position was vacant. He must be elsewhere in the building, thankfully, thought Ray. Emma was absorbed in whatever she was reading on her workstation and did not sense that she had company until she looked up at the last moment and saw her brother being held at gunpoint.
Emma jumped up from her chair "Ray? What's going on?"
Doug said 'Open the safe, bitch, or this other bitch gets blown to kingdom come".
Emma said "Ok, ok. Just don't hurt him, please!" She moved to the safe and opened it up to reveal a large quantity of banknotes.
"Oh, yes!" said Doug, smiling "Come to Daddy!" He pushed Ray roughly aside and moved towards the safe to collect his loot.
To his surprise, the gun was suddenly kicked out of his hand by Emma. Emma then followed up her high kick by raining a series of blows on Doug. Doug was no match for this onslaught and, realising this, he bolted, knocking over Emma's secretary as he returned from whatever errand he had been running. The mini skirted boy crashed into a wall.
Emma gave Ray a hug "Are you OK? That must have been terrifying for you!"
"Where did you learn to fight like that?" Ray asked her, impressed by her martial prowess.
"I did kickboxing and proper boxing in my early twenties" Emma explained. "I was pretty good at it too, as you just saw!"
The secretary had, in the meantime, picked himself up, smoothed down his skirt and blouse and came into the office "Do you want me to call the police, Ma'am?"
"Yes, please, Phil". The boy went to pick up the handset when, from outside, there was the screech of tyres, the sound a vehicle makes when trying to make an emergency stop, followed by a dull thud.
Emma and Ray looked out of the window. Emma turned to her secretary, her face set in a grim expression and said "You'd better call an ambulance instead, Phil. The robber has just run into the path of one of our delivery lorries. It's not a pretty sight".
Ray looked at the body of his former friend, still clad in the blouse and skirt he had worn to infiltrate the building. Doug was not moving. Ray realised he was dead.
An ambulance and police car arrived. Doug was indeed pronounced to be dead. The police took statements from everyone who had come into contact with the robber and concluded that it had been a random robbery made by a desperate man. The police were aware of Doug and his money problems.
Emma gave both Phil and Ray the rest of the day off to get over the shock. Ray was saddened by Doug's death, but also relieved that he had not been implicated in the robbery. With Doug dead, nobody would ever know of his involvement and he could get resume his life.
He went down to dine with his mother and sisters. The incident was discussed briefly, but Mother had an announcement to make.
"Ray" she said "You're to marry Lindsey Moore. Her mother, who runs her own business empire, wants a merger with Al La Mode. A marriage is the best way to cement this".
Ray was bewildered. Marry? He had never even met this Lindsey Moore!
"But...I don't want to get married!" he said.
Mother's face became stern "You'll do as you are told. Lindsey is a very successful girl. You'll make her a good little house husband. In the old days, we women were married off to men we did not know, against our will, for the benefit of men. Now it's your turn!"
The women began discussing wedding arrangements. Ray listened in horror as they talked about what gown and jewellery he would wear. Who would be his bridesmaids. Ordering his veil. And he knew he would have to go along with it. He would end up as a blushing bride and then a pretty, submissive little housewife in all but name.
It suddenly dawned on Ray that he had left one prison only to enter another.
The End
He was wearing a pink gown, made of silk, encumbered with many flounces, frills and lace edging. It was embedded with glittering sequins. The gown was off the shoulder and designed to show off the wearer's shoulders, back, arms and lower legs. Ray wore a pair of matching high heels.
He had had a complete makeover the previous day that had included waxing, eyebrow shaping, moisterising and nail art. There was not a stray hair on his body and his skin felt as smooth and soft as that of a young girl. His bare, shapely legs were on show for all to see.
"You look quite lovely, Ray" said his mother, a mature woman who wore a tuxedo, as all of the female participants in the wedding did.
She took one of his hands "Ray, come with me. I have a gift for you". Without waiting for a response, she gently pulled Ray along after her to her own bedroom. The house's "Mistress Bedroom" as she liked to call it, as she owned the house and the family business.
Ray noted that his mother's bedroom was more like a gentleman's study, dominated by an antique desk upon which sat a powerful computer terminal, and bookcases filled with books, not just about business management, but also art, history and classics. Ray had never known his mother to be so erudite.
His mother opened a drawer in her dresser and pulled out a walnut case. She handed it to him. "Go, on" she prompted "open it!"
Ray obeyed and found inside a diamond necklace, choker, tiara and matching earrings. These, he knew, were the family jewels passed down from one generation to the next.
But, usually, they were passed from mother to daughter. Not mother to son!
"Ray, as my eldest son, you should have these. In earlier times of course, they would have gone to Emma...but, society has changed so much! They are no use to me anymore, so I thought it was time to hand them onto the next generation. When you have a son, you should give them to him when he comes of age".
Ray looked at the jewellery collection with mixed feelings. There were no two ways about it. In addition to the various other feminine roles he had had to play over the last few weeks, he was now the equivalent of "eldest daughter" in the eyes of the women of his family. He was also touched at the generousity of his mother and the attendant intimacy between them, almost like a mother-daughter relationship.
But he was also ashamed. His masculinity was being broken down and eroded by degrees and this was another step on the road to the feminine existence that society seemed to want him to live, in stark contradiction to the role he had been brought up to play.
His mother could see the conflict going on within him and laid a hand on his arm "I know all this must be hard for you. You were brought up as a boy, after all, and now you're the one who has to be pretty and feminine. It will get easier, you'll see".
Tears welled up in Ray's eyes.
"Here, let me help you put on your jewellery. You should wear it for the wedding". Mother proceeded to put the necklace around Ray's neck, put his tiara in place and clip his earrings onto his lobes.
Ray felt nothing but shame, but submitted to the indignity of being decked out with the jewellery traditionally worn by the women of the family.
"You look very pretty!" said his mother "Come with me, Guy wants a quick chat with you". Mother took one of his hands and gently pulled him along to another room.
As they entered, Ray saw a tall figure dressed in an ivory wedding gown. From the back "she" looked like just any bride, but Ray knew his cousin, no matter what he was wearing.
Head down, he approached his cousin "Hi Guy" he said.
Guy turned around. He looked rather attractive. His face had been coated with expensive cosmetics and his hair styled to frame his rather feminine features. He wore his lace veil up at present.
His visage was marred by the sulky expression on his face.
"Hi Ray. Well, here I am, the beautiful, blushing bride to be! What the hell happened to us men that on my wedding day, I'M the one who has to trip down the aisle in a gown and veil?"
Ray shrugged. He had been locked away from the world for the last ten years.
But Guy had not been expecting an answer "Every girl's dream is for a white wedding, only nowadays, in this female utopia, it's us men who have to wear the white gowns! That bitch Gloria! Just because she earns more than me she gets to tell me what I can wear!"
Ray remained silent.
Guy wept. Ray started forward, to comfort him, only to be brushed off. He backed away.
"Once I'm married" Guy said in a whisper "I'll be her slave in all but name. I used to be an IT Manager, did you know that Ray? An IT Manager. I used to earn 100K a year, but then they got rid of me. For a woman. In the name of the equal representation act. I landed another job - after nine months of trying, and at a lower level and a lower salary, but whilst my career was going down the pan, Gloria's star was rising. From bank cashier, to supervisor, to assistant manager, to manager, then area manager and then a directorship. She earns four times what I do, and that's before her bonuses. In reality, it's ten times more!"
Ray was mystified "Then why are you marrying her?"
"Because she is seriously rich and getting richer with every passing moment! If I have to be a housewife, at least I'll be a housewife for a successful woman. Yep, I'll be a housewife in all but name. Cleaning, sewing, doing the shopping, ironing and laundry, and then, when the kids come along, I'll become a nursemaid too!"
"You wanted to talk to me?" Ray reminded him.
"Oh, yeah. If you can, avoid all of this feminine bullshit. I hate every moment of it! High heels! Make Up! Thongs and bras! No man should have to wear such things! But most of us have no choice!"
Ray's face went red, for he was wearing a lace thong underneath his dress.
Ray considered this. He could turn his back on all of this. His criminal credentials could earn him a position as a gopher for someone like Vince Reardon and he could dress as a traditional male. He could regain something of a masculine existence. This seemed quite appealing for a while until Ray recognised that, sooner or later, he would get caught and end up in prison again. Or end up like Doug, a marginalised man desperate to pull any deal going.
But he would be on his own. His mother and sisters, who held all of the wealth and power in his family, would say "Fine. Be a real man. But you'll be one without any help or support from us". He would end up in some grotty accommodation, living at subsistence level and trying to avoid the police. It was no longer a life that appealed to him.
Ray realised with shame that he was becoming not only used to being treated like a princess, he was becoming dependant on it. He had a lovely bedroom, a wardrobe bulging with gorgeous dresses and exquisite lingerie He wanted for nothing. Except masculinity. As shaming as having to dress as a girl was, it was infinitely preferable to the alternative.
Besides, weeks of feminisation had taken their toll on his natural masculinity. It was impossible for him to be masculine dressed as he was. His personality and instincts were becoming more feminine.
Ray and Guy were interupted by the entry into the room of Ray's mother and sisters, all wearing tailor made tuxedos "Ah, there you are Ray. With the blushing bridegroom! How pretty you both look!"
The men shuddered.
"Oh, come on now. You do look pretty! It's nothing to be ashamed of. Guy, you look adorable in your lace veil and Ray, your dress fits you very well. Come now, Ray, we should take our places".
"Remember what I said" Guy whispered to him "Become a man again before it's too late!"
Ray sat with his mother and sisters and watched the wedding ceremony. Ray guessed that, underneath his veil, Guy's face was a picture of misery. He was attended by his brothers, dressed in cream bridesmaids' dresses. The bride, Gloria, stood confidently in her tuxedo, in complete control.
Beside him, his sisters giggled "Gloria showed me the dildo she intends to use on Guy tonight!" said Heather "It's the biggest one she could find. A real monster! Poor Guy!" The girls collapsed in a fit of giggles.
The ceremony was lovely but marred for Ray by the persistent buzzing coming from his mobile phone. Thankfully, he had had the sense to put it on vibrate rather than have an audible ring tone. Ray knew it was Doug and he dreaded having to call him back.
The party moved on to a hotel, which had been booked for the reception. Ray was asked to dance by several of the ladies present, including the bride. Gradually, the party began to wind down once the bride and groom had left. Heather had imbided too much wine and had fallen asleep, curled up on a couch. Mother was nowhere in sight. Emma was looking green and unsteady.
"I'm not used to drinking so much" she confessed "I'm off to the ladies. Look after my briefcase" she told him. She bolted off rapidly. It was clear that she was on the verge of being sick.
Emma had insisted bringing some of her work with her. She was a workaholic. Ray looked at the smart black briefcase and suddenly it dawned on him that it could hold the vital information he and Doug needed. Moving slowly and carefully, so as to avoid waking Heather, he opened up the briefcase and rooted around inside.
He found a notebook with Emma's scribblings all over it. Something about a marketing strategy, although most of it went over Ray's head. Some typed documents about revenue and expenditure. A book written by a world renowned billionairess about how to succeed in business. And a very small notepad. The notepad contained Emma's password for her workstation and her PIN numbers for her numerous bank and credit cards.
Ray grew excited. The password for the safe must be in here! He was only a page or so away from finding it! But he stopped himself. What on earth was he thinking? He was robbing his own family! He immediately put the notepad back in the briefcase and put the briefcase back where he had found it.
He was shaking when Emma returned, looking more like her usual self "What's wrong, Ray? Did you have too much wine too?" Ray nodded.
Emma woke Heather "I think it's time we all went home. Come on sleepyhead! Time for us to leave".
They rode a taxi home. On the way, Ray had come to a decision. He would have to tell Doug that he was pulling out of the robbery. He had managed to send a text off to Doug with words to that effect. Oddly, there had been no reply.
The mobile phone remained silent the over the next few days. Ray was puzzled. He had expected Ray to have fired back an angry response. But there was nothing. Maybe even Doug had realised that the robbery was a non starter. Ray shrugged. As far as he was concerned, it was not his problem anymore.
Monday came around and Ray went into work in his usual secretary outfit of blouse, short skirt and high heels. He was proud of the job he had done with his make up. He was becoming very adept at wielding brushes and lipsticks.
The morning passed quickly. After lunching with the boys and catching up on office gossip, Ray returned to his workstation. He was typing a letter for one of the female managers when his phone rang. It was reception. Malcolm, the pretty blonde currently manning reception told him he had a visitor and he needed to come down to reception to sign him in.
Ray was confused. He was not expecting any visitors. He took the lift and rode it down to the ground floor. He emerged from the lift to a shocking scene. Malcolm, a petitely built boy, was being held at gunpoint by a man wearing a skirt and blouse.
Doug.
If the situation had not been so desperate, Ray would have burst out laughing, for Doug looked ridiculous. He had made no effort at all with his presentation. He had merely donned a skirt and blouse. He had hairy legs and arms and he had clearly not shaved that morning.
"Ray! Help me!" Malcolm begged him. Then he swooned and fainted. Doug let him fall to the floor.
"Bloody soft little pansy!" Doug spat.
"Doug, what do you think you're doing?" Ray asked him.
Doug gave him a hard look "Doing? What does it look like I'm doing, you stupid bitch? I'm robbing this place!"
"Are you crazy? I thought we agreed to call the whole thing off!"
"No, you called it off. But I haven't. I'm desperate for the money". Doug pointed his gun at Ray "Now, bitch, you been no use to me so far but you'll make a decent enough hostage". Doug jammed the gun into Ray's back and steered him towards the lift. Doug made Ray select the floor where the safe was. In his sister's office. He was leading this nutter to his sister, but there was nothing he could do about it. Not with a gun in his back.
They got out of the lift. Doug shouted "I've got a gun! If anyone tries to stop me or tries to call the police, this bitch gets blown away, ok?"
The staff were shocked and offered no resistance. Ray led Doug to Emma's office. Her secretary's position was vacant. He must be elsewhere in the building, thankfully, thought Ray. Emma was absorbed in whatever she was reading on her workstation and did not sense that she had company until she looked up at the last moment and saw her brother being held at gunpoint.
Emma jumped up from her chair "Ray? What's going on?"
Doug said 'Open the safe, bitch, or this other bitch gets blown to kingdom come".
Emma said "Ok, ok. Just don't hurt him, please!" She moved to the safe and opened it up to reveal a large quantity of banknotes.
"Oh, yes!" said Doug, smiling "Come to Daddy!" He pushed Ray roughly aside and moved towards the safe to collect his loot.
To his surprise, the gun was suddenly kicked out of his hand by Emma. Emma then followed up her high kick by raining a series of blows on Doug. Doug was no match for this onslaught and, realising this, he bolted, knocking over Emma's secretary as he returned from whatever errand he had been running. The mini skirted boy crashed into a wall.
Emma gave Ray a hug "Are you OK? That must have been terrifying for you!"
"Where did you learn to fight like that?" Ray asked her, impressed by her martial prowess.
"I did kickboxing and proper boxing in my early twenties" Emma explained. "I was pretty good at it too, as you just saw!"
The secretary had, in the meantime, picked himself up, smoothed down his skirt and blouse and came into the office "Do you want me to call the police, Ma'am?"
"Yes, please, Phil". The boy went to pick up the handset when, from outside, there was the screech of tyres, the sound a vehicle makes when trying to make an emergency stop, followed by a dull thud.
Emma and Ray looked out of the window. Emma turned to her secretary, her face set in a grim expression and said "You'd better call an ambulance instead, Phil. The robber has just run into the path of one of our delivery lorries. It's not a pretty sight".
Ray looked at the body of his former friend, still clad in the blouse and skirt he had worn to infiltrate the building. Doug was not moving. Ray realised he was dead.
An ambulance and police car arrived. Doug was indeed pronounced to be dead. The police took statements from everyone who had come into contact with the robber and concluded that it had been a random robbery made by a desperate man. The police were aware of Doug and his money problems.
Emma gave both Phil and Ray the rest of the day off to get over the shock. Ray was saddened by Doug's death, but also relieved that he had not been implicated in the robbery. With Doug dead, nobody would ever know of his involvement and he could get resume his life.
He went down to dine with his mother and sisters. The incident was discussed briefly, but Mother had an announcement to make.
"Ray" she said "You're to marry Lindsey Moore. Her mother, who runs her own business empire, wants a merger with Al La Mode. A marriage is the best way to cement this".
Ray was bewildered. Marry? He had never even met this Lindsey Moore!
"But...I don't want to get married!" he said.
Mother's face became stern "You'll do as you are told. Lindsey is a very successful girl. You'll make her a good little house husband. In the old days, we women were married off to men we did not know, against our will, for the benefit of men. Now it's your turn!"
The women began discussing wedding arrangements. Ray listened in horror as they talked about what gown and jewellery he would wear. Who would be his bridesmaids. Ordering his veil. And he knew he would have to go along with it. He would end up as a blushing bride and then a pretty, submissive little housewife in all but name.
It suddenly dawned on Ray that he had left one prison only to enter another.
The End
Sunday, 6 March 2011
The Prodigal Son - Part 7 - Maid to Please
After his experiences of the previous day, Ray did not feel like going into work and so he phoned in sick. 'Men's troubles' was the reason given for his absence. His friends on the admin team used it all of the time.
He lay in his silken and lace bed, feeling miserable.
His sister, Heather, came to visit him. Heather was wearing a pair of slacks, an open shirt and a red pullover. She was going to play golf with some of her friends, but, as a medical student she had a interest in medical problems.
She took Ray's pulse, felt his forehead and even produced her stethoscope and used it to listen to Ray's breathing.
"There's nothing obviously wrong with you" she announced "You're depressed and agitated. A good day's sleep should help".
After Heather had left, Ray leapt out of bed. He showered, perfumed his hairless body and dressed up in a satin gold blouse, a matching red skirt and jacket set and red high heels. Underneath, he wore lace topped black stockings, a lace boy-bra and white, lace-trimmed french knickers. Ray made up his face and picked up his handbag and went out.
An hour later, he nervously entered the Duck & Ferret public house in one of the poorer districts of the city where his mate and partner in crime, Doug was waiting for him.
Ray was hoping to persuade his friend to abandon their plan to rob his mother's company. Ray had initially been up for the robbery, even though it had meant that he had had to eschew traditional masculine clothing in favour of what he now had to wear. But, weeks of having to live in feminine clothes and living a feminine life, had altered him. He was losing the masculine instincts that had made him strong, assertive and confident and was instead adopting the more feminine qualities of timidity, lack of confidence, submissiveness and even a liking for pretty, frivilous things.
He was no longer up for doing the robbery. In fact, he was scared out of his wits at the thought of being involved in crime.
He went to the bar and bought himself a glass of white wine and a pint of beer for Doug.
Doug smiled at him appreciatively "Thanks". He looked Ray up and down "Bloody hell, you look like a posh bird. If you have to dress up like a bird, wear a mini-skirt. You've got cracking legs!"
Ray went red "I didn't dress up for you! I did it for me". It was true.
Doug sneered "You actually enjoying dressing up as a woman, don't you? I can't believe it. The great Ray McBain, heir apparent of his father's criminal empire, has become Miss Moneypenny and is loving every moment of it!"
"Doug, never mind that. We have to abandon the plan to raid Al La Mode", he said in a whisper.
"What?"
"We aren't ready! We have less than two weeks before I have to away to college".
"What do you mean, we're not ready. I'm ready! As soon as you do your part. Seems to me, you're the one who isn't ready!"
Ray looked down at the tips of his high heels, unable to contradict him, for he was right.
Doug took one of his manicured hands, gently, like a lover, and then squeezed it tightly. Ray gasped in pain. Doug leant over as if to give him a kiss and whispered in his ear "Listen to me, you stupid bitch, I'm in serious trouble! I need that money like yesterday, so why don't you stop playing at house or whatever is going on inside your head, and get us the combination to the safe! The sooner you get the combination, the sooner we do the robbery and then you can become Miss World for all I care!"
The Miss World competition had been abolished seven years earlier, as a result of feminist agitation and the ascendancy of women. Doug was the one who was out of touch with the real world.
"You're hurting me! Ray protested. Doug released his hand. "Get that combination. Soon". He whispered. "Now, get out of here. I'm sick of drinking with bloody trannies!"
Shaken and in pain, Ray gulped down the rest of his wine, picked up his handbag, and stumbled out of the pub, on the verge of tears. His attempt to avert the robbery had been a complete failure. Not only that, but as a result of him having to wear skirts, Doug had lost all respect for him. He was just a "stupid bitch" to him now and he had treated him like one.
Ray couldn't face going home. If he went home, he would merely wind up in his boudoir, all sulky and miserable in silk, satin and lace.
He jumped on the tram. On the way, a drunk businesswoman in a tailored suit had tried to chat him up and she had roughly tried to paw and fondle him. Normally, Ray would have given her short shrift, but his natural feminine instincts seemed to override everything else, and he endured the woman's attentions.
He was saved by the intervention of a group of teenage boys. They were all in tight fitting, short-skirted dresses, heavily perfumed and made up and teetering on high heels. They were on a boy's night out, hoping working girls would notice them and ask them out.
They had seen Ray protesting mildly at his treatment as his suitor tried to slide one of her hands underneath his skirt and the brash, aggressive woman had found herself surrounded by a gang of handbag wielding boys.
The woman had tried to assert herself, but came under attack from a rain of blows from the boys' handbags and was forced to beat a hasty retreat down the carriage, shouting obscenities in their direction. The boys helped Ray to his feet and he thanked them sincerely.
"No need for thanks, brother" the leader of the boys said "We boys need to take care of each other". The boys resumed their seats.
Ray was impressed by the apparent solidarity of the boys towards members of their own gender.
He got out at the next stop and walked towards his next destination. Along the way, he had to walk past a building site. In the old days, before women became dominant, the workforce would have been predominantly male. However, since men had been forced to wear skirts and high heels, the workforce was now predominantly female.
The female workers had muscles, hairy arms and tattoos. When they saw Ray, the wolf whistles began, accompanied by comments like "Flash yer knickers for us, love!", "Lookat that arse!" and "Come and sit on my lap, Dollface!"
Ray was mortified and had never felt so vulnerable in his life. His head down and blushing, He had to force himself to keep moving. His high heels meant that his progress was slow, at best,but at last he was beyond the building site.
So, he thought, this is what it means to be the member of the weaker sex! To have women pawing you, wolf-whistling you and making you feel vulnerable. Still, when he had still been a member of the dominant sex, he had never considered how woman felt about some of the things he had said and done in his time, he reflected.
At last, he arrived at his destination and rang the buzzer. When he confirmed who he was, he was admitted into the building.
Debs and Charlie were waiting for him. They had been pestering him with texts and voice messages to drop around their place for some fun. He had tried to resist, until the girls had pointed out that they had helped him out after an attack by some knife wielding girls had left him semi-dressed and helpless. He had felt obliged to go around, even though he didn't want to.
He stood in front of them, clutching his handbag. The girls did not look happy. "Charlie and I are very upset with you, Ray! After all we've done for you, after all of the attention and time we've given to you, you ignore our calls and texts".
Head down, Ray mumbled an apology.
"What was that? I didn't hear much of an apology there! Did you, Charlie?"
"Nope" said the other girl.
"I'm really, really sorry" said Ray, in a louder voice.
"That's better. Now, for being a very naughty and ill-mannered boy, we've decided on your punishment". Debs produced a French Maid's outfit "Get changed into this and be quick about it!"
Ray took the shiny black uniform with its frilled apron and cap and changed into it in one of the bedroom. The uniform clung to his body and the lacy skirt fell only to his upper thigh. The slightest movement would reveal the frilly knickers he had to wear underneath his skirt.
The girls clearly intended to inflict maximum humilation on him.
He wobbled into the living room, perched on his stiletto heels.
"Very nice!" chorused the girls. Debs handed him a feather duster "Now, pretty maid, we want this flat so clean we could eat our dinner off the floor. Get to work!"
Ray spent the next two hours cleaning and dusting. It was clear that the girls didn't bother with housework at all judging from the thick layers of dust and grime and he was exhausted by the time he had finished.
The girls watched him work, amused. Occasionally, one of them would flip his skirt up as she passed him or give him a firm slap on the rump.
Ray knew that this was all part of their game to reverse the traditional gender roles to make themselves the "guys" and Ray the "girl". It was deeply humiliating all the same to have to be a cross between a housewife and a girlfriend.
But the girls hadn't finished with him yet. He was pushed onto their bed, face down and had to endure their large, penetrating dildos. Through the painful and shameful experience of being used by two girls, he was aware that this was not sex but a demonstration that, in this new woman's world, that they had the power and he had none at all.
He lay in his silken and lace bed, feeling miserable.
His sister, Heather, came to visit him. Heather was wearing a pair of slacks, an open shirt and a red pullover. She was going to play golf with some of her friends, but, as a medical student she had a interest in medical problems.
She took Ray's pulse, felt his forehead and even produced her stethoscope and used it to listen to Ray's breathing.
"There's nothing obviously wrong with you" she announced "You're depressed and agitated. A good day's sleep should help".
After Heather had left, Ray leapt out of bed. He showered, perfumed his hairless body and dressed up in a satin gold blouse, a matching red skirt and jacket set and red high heels. Underneath, he wore lace topped black stockings, a lace boy-bra and white, lace-trimmed french knickers. Ray made up his face and picked up his handbag and went out.
An hour later, he nervously entered the Duck & Ferret public house in one of the poorer districts of the city where his mate and partner in crime, Doug was waiting for him.
Ray was hoping to persuade his friend to abandon their plan to rob his mother's company. Ray had initially been up for the robbery, even though it had meant that he had had to eschew traditional masculine clothing in favour of what he now had to wear. But, weeks of having to live in feminine clothes and living a feminine life, had altered him. He was losing the masculine instincts that had made him strong, assertive and confident and was instead adopting the more feminine qualities of timidity, lack of confidence, submissiveness and even a liking for pretty, frivilous things.
He was no longer up for doing the robbery. In fact, he was scared out of his wits at the thought of being involved in crime.
He went to the bar and bought himself a glass of white wine and a pint of beer for Doug.
Doug smiled at him appreciatively "Thanks". He looked Ray up and down "Bloody hell, you look like a posh bird. If you have to dress up like a bird, wear a mini-skirt. You've got cracking legs!"
Ray went red "I didn't dress up for you! I did it for me". It was true.
Doug sneered "You actually enjoying dressing up as a woman, don't you? I can't believe it. The great Ray McBain, heir apparent of his father's criminal empire, has become Miss Moneypenny and is loving every moment of it!"
"Doug, never mind that. We have to abandon the plan to raid Al La Mode", he said in a whisper.
"What?"
"We aren't ready! We have less than two weeks before I have to away to college".
"What do you mean, we're not ready. I'm ready! As soon as you do your part. Seems to me, you're the one who isn't ready!"
Ray looked down at the tips of his high heels, unable to contradict him, for he was right.
Doug took one of his manicured hands, gently, like a lover, and then squeezed it tightly. Ray gasped in pain. Doug leant over as if to give him a kiss and whispered in his ear "Listen to me, you stupid bitch, I'm in serious trouble! I need that money like yesterday, so why don't you stop playing at house or whatever is going on inside your head, and get us the combination to the safe! The sooner you get the combination, the sooner we do the robbery and then you can become Miss World for all I care!"
The Miss World competition had been abolished seven years earlier, as a result of feminist agitation and the ascendancy of women. Doug was the one who was out of touch with the real world.
"You're hurting me! Ray protested. Doug released his hand. "Get that combination. Soon". He whispered. "Now, get out of here. I'm sick of drinking with bloody trannies!"
Shaken and in pain, Ray gulped down the rest of his wine, picked up his handbag, and stumbled out of the pub, on the verge of tears. His attempt to avert the robbery had been a complete failure. Not only that, but as a result of him having to wear skirts, Doug had lost all respect for him. He was just a "stupid bitch" to him now and he had treated him like one.
Ray couldn't face going home. If he went home, he would merely wind up in his boudoir, all sulky and miserable in silk, satin and lace.
He jumped on the tram. On the way, a drunk businesswoman in a tailored suit had tried to chat him up and she had roughly tried to paw and fondle him. Normally, Ray would have given her short shrift, but his natural feminine instincts seemed to override everything else, and he endured the woman's attentions.
He was saved by the intervention of a group of teenage boys. They were all in tight fitting, short-skirted dresses, heavily perfumed and made up and teetering on high heels. They were on a boy's night out, hoping working girls would notice them and ask them out.
They had seen Ray protesting mildly at his treatment as his suitor tried to slide one of her hands underneath his skirt and the brash, aggressive woman had found herself surrounded by a gang of handbag wielding boys.
The woman had tried to assert herself, but came under attack from a rain of blows from the boys' handbags and was forced to beat a hasty retreat down the carriage, shouting obscenities in their direction. The boys helped Ray to his feet and he thanked them sincerely.
"No need for thanks, brother" the leader of the boys said "We boys need to take care of each other". The boys resumed their seats.
Ray was impressed by the apparent solidarity of the boys towards members of their own gender.
He got out at the next stop and walked towards his next destination. Along the way, he had to walk past a building site. In the old days, before women became dominant, the workforce would have been predominantly male. However, since men had been forced to wear skirts and high heels, the workforce was now predominantly female.
The female workers had muscles, hairy arms and tattoos. When they saw Ray, the wolf whistles began, accompanied by comments like "Flash yer knickers for us, love!", "Lookat that arse!" and "Come and sit on my lap, Dollface!"
Ray was mortified and had never felt so vulnerable in his life. His head down and blushing, He had to force himself to keep moving. His high heels meant that his progress was slow, at best,but at last he was beyond the building site.
So, he thought, this is what it means to be the member of the weaker sex! To have women pawing you, wolf-whistling you and making you feel vulnerable. Still, when he had still been a member of the dominant sex, he had never considered how woman felt about some of the things he had said and done in his time, he reflected.
At last, he arrived at his destination and rang the buzzer. When he confirmed who he was, he was admitted into the building.
Debs and Charlie were waiting for him. They had been pestering him with texts and voice messages to drop around their place for some fun. He had tried to resist, until the girls had pointed out that they had helped him out after an attack by some knife wielding girls had left him semi-dressed and helpless. He had felt obliged to go around, even though he didn't want to.
He stood in front of them, clutching his handbag. The girls did not look happy. "Charlie and I are very upset with you, Ray! After all we've done for you, after all of the attention and time we've given to you, you ignore our calls and texts".
Head down, Ray mumbled an apology.
"What was that? I didn't hear much of an apology there! Did you, Charlie?"
"Nope" said the other girl.
"I'm really, really sorry" said Ray, in a louder voice.
"That's better. Now, for being a very naughty and ill-mannered boy, we've decided on your punishment". Debs produced a French Maid's outfit "Get changed into this and be quick about it!"
Ray took the shiny black uniform with its frilled apron and cap and changed into it in one of the bedroom. The uniform clung to his body and the lacy skirt fell only to his upper thigh. The slightest movement would reveal the frilly knickers he had to wear underneath his skirt.
The girls clearly intended to inflict maximum humilation on him.
He wobbled into the living room, perched on his stiletto heels.
"Very nice!" chorused the girls. Debs handed him a feather duster "Now, pretty maid, we want this flat so clean we could eat our dinner off the floor. Get to work!"
Ray spent the next two hours cleaning and dusting. It was clear that the girls didn't bother with housework at all judging from the thick layers of dust and grime and he was exhausted by the time he had finished.
The girls watched him work, amused. Occasionally, one of them would flip his skirt up as she passed him or give him a firm slap on the rump.
Ray knew that this was all part of their game to reverse the traditional gender roles to make themselves the "guys" and Ray the "girl". It was deeply humiliating all the same to have to be a cross between a housewife and a girlfriend.
But the girls hadn't finished with him yet. He was pushed onto their bed, face down and had to endure their large, penetrating dildos. Through the painful and shameful experience of being used by two girls, he was aware that this was not sex but a demonstration that, in this new woman's world, that they had the power and he had none at all.
Wednesday, 2 March 2011
The Prodigal Son - Part 6 - The Future is Feminine
Ray rushed into work, his heels clattering against the marble tiled floor. He was running late, having forgotten to set his alarm, and oversleeping. He had hurriedly showered, dressed, painted his nails and applied his make up. There had been no time for breakfast and Ray's stomach grumbled.
Maybe, if he managed to get to his desk now, Mrs Holland wouldn't know he had been late. None of the guys would split on him. He was by now well regarded by them. Lunchtimes of exchanging beauty tips and gossip had paid off.
He was within three feet of his desk when Mrs Holland's voice rang out "Ray! Step into my office, please!"
Ray groaned. He had been so close! The other boy admin assistants gave him sympathetic looks. Ray went into Mrs Holland's office to face whatever punishment she was about to inflict upon him.
Mrs Holland closed the door behind him and said "Take a seat". Ray walked over to the chair opposite that usually occupied by Mrs Holland, smoothed his skirt under him and sat down. Mrs Holland took her place opposite him.
Ray said nervously "I'm sorry about being late, Mrs Holland...it won't...". He stopped, as Mrs Holland waved her hand at him to shut up.
"I'll let it go, this time!" said Mrs Holland "But don't make a habit of it. Now, Ray, how do you think your traineeship is going?"
Oh, no! thought Ray. Don't tell me I'm about to be fired! That would be a disaster! His and Doug's plan to rob Al La Mode would be dead in the water.
He answered cautiously "I think, it's going ok, Ma'am. I do what I'm asked. I try to get things right. I try to be helpful and friendly".
"You know what, Ray? I couldn't have put it better myself! You are all of those things. Those types of skills are just we what we are looking for in a future secretary. Would you like to be a secretary, Ray?'
A secretary? His masculine nature rebelled at being cast in a traditionally feminine role. When he had first seem Al La Mode, he had expected to have a secretary, not be one! But if his and Doug's plan was to come to fruition, he needed to be in a more senior position, so he nodded.
"Good. Because I've spoken to your sister about your future and we've agreed that you should be sent to a secretarial college. You'll be away for six weeks. It's a very intensive course, so you'll really have to alert and focused, but if you graduate you'll move straight into a higher grade with, of course, higher pay! This is a great opportunity for you".
All Ray could think about was the bit about being away for six weeks. "Um, Mrs Holland, when do I go to the college?"
"Keen to start, eh? Excellent attitude! You're booked in to start a week next Monday".
It was a Thursday, so he and Doug had less than two weeks to carry out their plan. He had to let Doug know immediately.
"Are you ok, Ray? Anyone would think I'd just fired you if they saw the expression on your face right now" Mrs Holland said jokingly.
The first opportunity he got, for it had been a hectic morning, Ray went outside and used his pink mobile to phone Doug. As he had expected, Doug was not at all happy at the news.
"You know what this means, don't you?" Doug asked him.
Ray didn't really, but he said "We'll have to wait until I return from secretarial school?"
Doug snorted "Not only have they got you dressing like a bimbo, they've got you talking like one too! No, you dummy, we'll have to bring the plan forward!"
"But...that's less than two weeks away!"
"I know!"
"But we don't have the combination for the safe and I've no idea how to get it!"
"You really have become a helpless bimbo, haven't you? Grow some balls, take your barbie doll head off and put your man's head on!" The phone went dead.
Ray had to sit down at a nearby bench. He was shaking. He realised that Doug had been right about him. He had gone from streetwise hood to an airheaded girl! He was timid, indecisive and submissive and desperate for someone, anyone, to take the lead.
What had happened to him?
When he went back inside, Mrs Holland summoned him into her office again and put him to work putting figures onto a spreadsheet. Ray was bewildered. He had never used a spreadsheet in his life and felt embarrassed to have to be shown the most basic functions. His typing speed was pitiful and it took him ages to do the work.
Mrs Holland came to check on his progress and shook her head "That isn't right, but not to worry, we can easily fix it". Mrs Holland entered some complex formulae and pressed and few buttons and corrected the work it had taken Ray hours to do in less than a minute.
Ray was awed by Mrs Holland's skill. No wonder women were in charge, if they could work magic like that! He felt totally inadequate by comparison and went home, depressed.
Higgins and her staff had prepared a sumptuous meal, but Ray did little more than pick at it and eat a few morsels. He went to bed, telling his mother and sisters that he wasn't feeling too well. The women exchanged a knowing look as if to say "Men. They are such delicate, fragile things!"
Ray took refuge in his room. He put on a pair of satin PJ's and climbed into his princess bed, miserable and confused. He was deeply worried by his gradual transformation from masculine to feminine male. On top of everything else, he had to think about how he was going to get the combination to that safe! Doug was depending on him.
Ray found that he was unable to sleep, so he put the television on. It was dominated by women's sports and current affairs, where virtually all of the world leaders were female. He finally found a talk show called "Women Today" with the topic of "Men: How feminine should they be?"
The hostess, Kirsty Charles, was a fiesty thirty year old, who was already a millionnairess in her own right. But she enjoyed her work too much to consider early retirement.
"Ladies!" she was saying (for her studio audience was predominantly female) "Once upon a time, man was the dominant sex and we women were subservient, and believe me, it was no fairy tale! Thanks to feminism and various other factors, we overtook men academically, professionally and economically and replaced them as the dominant sex. We could have been satisfied with that, but then we began feminising our men, moulding into the ideal, feminine partners we wanted to complement us working girls!"
Charles paused to let that sink in.
"There are some amongst us that say that we have taken things too far. That men have to be allowed to be men and that to feminise them is perverse. Others say we need to need to completely de-masculinise men - turn them into women! Or as close to women as hormone treatments and current technology allows!"
The introduction over, Charles brought on her first guests. These were a young woman, wearing a print frock and a man dressed in shirt and trousers. There were boos and hisses from members of the audience.
"My first guests are Herman and Clarissa" said Charles "They are members of a religious movement which advocates that the man is the natural head of the family and that the woman's duty is to obey and support him. As you can see, Herman and Clarissa are dressed as a man and a woman used to dress"
The boos and hisses intensfied.
"So, Clarissa, why do you think it is your duty to obey your husband?"
Clarissa gave a long winded speech saying god had ordained that man should hold dominion over woman and it was unnatural for any woman to upset that balance.
The reaction from the audience was very hostile. Charles, satisfied with the shock value, quickly ended the interview.
The next couple were Janice and Ian Reese-Dunston, an upper crust couple in their fifties. Janice wore a trouser suit and Ian wore a designer dress and high heels.
There was a polite ripple of applause from the audience.
"Janice and Ian are typical of a couple of today. They married young. Ian was initially the breadwinner and head of the family but Janice went back to work after their children went to school and soon earned more than Ian. Ian lost his job in the he-cession of 2008/09 and he and Janice switched traditional gender roles. This story is a very common one, but this one has an interesting twist" Charles stated.
Charles interviewed the couple. Janice said how liberating going out to work had been after years in the home and that she loved her job. Ian related how hard it had been going from being the breadwinner to being the secondary earner and then a househusband. But, his current state of dress had not been imposed on him by his dominant wife. Bored with housework, he had tried on his wife's clothes "for a bit of a laugh" but had found them so comfortable that he wore them as often as he could. Eventually, the couple switched clothes. "It suits us so much better" said Janice "And, frankly, and I hate to have to admit this, but Ian has better legs than me!"
That raised a titter from the audience.
But Janice said that she would not consider taking things further with Ian, such as making him take female hormones.
Charles wheeled on her next guests. These consisted of a tall, trouser suited woman who clearly worked out and her son, who had curly long blonde hair, a flawless, ladylike complexion and who wore a lace blouse and a long, embroidered skirt.
He looks more like a girl than any girl I have ever seen! was Ray's thought.
The boy tried to sit on a chair of his own, but his mother picked him up, even though he must have been at least ten years old, and made him sit on her lap.
Charles introduced them as Brianna and Karl Avery. "Brianna has already put her son on a course of female hormones, but she intends to take Karl's development further, with breast implants and even a complete sex change operation to make him into a full woman planned!"
Brianna was asked why she would consider doing those things. Brianna said "Karl is an adorable boy, but with a sex change he will not only look better but he will experience complete femininity. Karl wants this, don't you, Karl?"
The feminine boy snuggled up to his mother by way of reply.
"So" Charles said "We have had guests representing the traditional male/female roles, a typical couple - masculine womand and feminine man, and at the extreme end, a mother who wants to completely feminise her son, complete with breasts and female genitalia. Let's open up the debate to the floor - how feminine should men be?"
It was obvious that the traditional couple had gained no friends from the audience. They were completely hostile to a scenario where men were deemed to be superior to women. Almost of the audience to a woman approved of both the modern day couple and of Karl's mother. Some of the audience went even further and suggested that men should be completely feminised from birth or that sex selection procedures should be used to ensure that only female babies were produced, thus eventually weeding men out of the human race altogether.
Ray watched the closing credits were with a mixture of fascination and fear. Almost all women favoured the complete feminisation of males and now that they were in control, they were getting their way.
He lay in bed and to his horror, began weeping just like the girl he seemed to be turning into. He was confused, frightened and shocked by what he was turning into. He was being turned not into a modern woman, who was confident, assertive and aggressive, but a puny girl who exhibited classically feminine traits such as timidity, indecisiveness, submissiveness and a lack of self-confidence.
Unconsciously, Ray took refuge in femininity. He took a long bath, sprayed his body with perfumes, painted his nails and put on a silk nighdress. He undid the lace curtains and allowed them to surround his bed and then climbed into the soothing satin sheets. His vision was filled with the delicate lace of the curtains, his skin was caressed by the silk of his nightdress and the satin sheets of his bed. His senses were overcome with the musky scent of his own body.
Ray felt like he had entered a different plane and that he now he had some understanding of the delights of femininity.
He fell into a deep sleep. He had bizarre, confusing dreams of himself dressed in the gown and tiara of a fairytale princess and being awakened by the kiss of a handsome woman, or of him, dressed in a bikini wobbling down a fashion catwalk in front of an all woman audience, and, even more strangely, being dressed as a small girl, complete with ribbons in his curly hair, and playing with dollies, as his sisters used to do.
Ray suddenly woke up in a cold sweat. He lay awake for the rest of the morning, bewildered and very confused.
What was happening to him?
Maybe, if he managed to get to his desk now, Mrs Holland wouldn't know he had been late. None of the guys would split on him. He was by now well regarded by them. Lunchtimes of exchanging beauty tips and gossip had paid off.
He was within three feet of his desk when Mrs Holland's voice rang out "Ray! Step into my office, please!"
Ray groaned. He had been so close! The other boy admin assistants gave him sympathetic looks. Ray went into Mrs Holland's office to face whatever punishment she was about to inflict upon him.
Mrs Holland closed the door behind him and said "Take a seat". Ray walked over to the chair opposite that usually occupied by Mrs Holland, smoothed his skirt under him and sat down. Mrs Holland took her place opposite him.
Ray said nervously "I'm sorry about being late, Mrs Holland...it won't...". He stopped, as Mrs Holland waved her hand at him to shut up.
"I'll let it go, this time!" said Mrs Holland "But don't make a habit of it. Now, Ray, how do you think your traineeship is going?"
Oh, no! thought Ray. Don't tell me I'm about to be fired! That would be a disaster! His and Doug's plan to rob Al La Mode would be dead in the water.
He answered cautiously "I think, it's going ok, Ma'am. I do what I'm asked. I try to get things right. I try to be helpful and friendly".
"You know what, Ray? I couldn't have put it better myself! You are all of those things. Those types of skills are just we what we are looking for in a future secretary. Would you like to be a secretary, Ray?'
A secretary? His masculine nature rebelled at being cast in a traditionally feminine role. When he had first seem Al La Mode, he had expected to have a secretary, not be one! But if his and Doug's plan was to come to fruition, he needed to be in a more senior position, so he nodded.
"Good. Because I've spoken to your sister about your future and we've agreed that you should be sent to a secretarial college. You'll be away for six weeks. It's a very intensive course, so you'll really have to alert and focused, but if you graduate you'll move straight into a higher grade with, of course, higher pay! This is a great opportunity for you".
All Ray could think about was the bit about being away for six weeks. "Um, Mrs Holland, when do I go to the college?"
"Keen to start, eh? Excellent attitude! You're booked in to start a week next Monday".
It was a Thursday, so he and Doug had less than two weeks to carry out their plan. He had to let Doug know immediately.
"Are you ok, Ray? Anyone would think I'd just fired you if they saw the expression on your face right now" Mrs Holland said jokingly.
The first opportunity he got, for it had been a hectic morning, Ray went outside and used his pink mobile to phone Doug. As he had expected, Doug was not at all happy at the news.
"You know what this means, don't you?" Doug asked him.
Ray didn't really, but he said "We'll have to wait until I return from secretarial school?"
Doug snorted "Not only have they got you dressing like a bimbo, they've got you talking like one too! No, you dummy, we'll have to bring the plan forward!"
"But...that's less than two weeks away!"
"I know!"
"But we don't have the combination for the safe and I've no idea how to get it!"
"You really have become a helpless bimbo, haven't you? Grow some balls, take your barbie doll head off and put your man's head on!" The phone went dead.
Ray had to sit down at a nearby bench. He was shaking. He realised that Doug had been right about him. He had gone from streetwise hood to an airheaded girl! He was timid, indecisive and submissive and desperate for someone, anyone, to take the lead.
What had happened to him?
When he went back inside, Mrs Holland summoned him into her office again and put him to work putting figures onto a spreadsheet. Ray was bewildered. He had never used a spreadsheet in his life and felt embarrassed to have to be shown the most basic functions. His typing speed was pitiful and it took him ages to do the work.
Mrs Holland came to check on his progress and shook her head "That isn't right, but not to worry, we can easily fix it". Mrs Holland entered some complex formulae and pressed and few buttons and corrected the work it had taken Ray hours to do in less than a minute.
Ray was awed by Mrs Holland's skill. No wonder women were in charge, if they could work magic like that! He felt totally inadequate by comparison and went home, depressed.
Higgins and her staff had prepared a sumptuous meal, but Ray did little more than pick at it and eat a few morsels. He went to bed, telling his mother and sisters that he wasn't feeling too well. The women exchanged a knowing look as if to say "Men. They are such delicate, fragile things!"
Ray took refuge in his room. He put on a pair of satin PJ's and climbed into his princess bed, miserable and confused. He was deeply worried by his gradual transformation from masculine to feminine male. On top of everything else, he had to think about how he was going to get the combination to that safe! Doug was depending on him.
Ray found that he was unable to sleep, so he put the television on. It was dominated by women's sports and current affairs, where virtually all of the world leaders were female. He finally found a talk show called "Women Today" with the topic of "Men: How feminine should they be?"
The hostess, Kirsty Charles, was a fiesty thirty year old, who was already a millionnairess in her own right. But she enjoyed her work too much to consider early retirement.
"Ladies!" she was saying (for her studio audience was predominantly female) "Once upon a time, man was the dominant sex and we women were subservient, and believe me, it was no fairy tale! Thanks to feminism and various other factors, we overtook men academically, professionally and economically and replaced them as the dominant sex. We could have been satisfied with that, but then we began feminising our men, moulding into the ideal, feminine partners we wanted to complement us working girls!"
Charles paused to let that sink in.
"There are some amongst us that say that we have taken things too far. That men have to be allowed to be men and that to feminise them is perverse. Others say we need to need to completely de-masculinise men - turn them into women! Or as close to women as hormone treatments and current technology allows!"
The introduction over, Charles brought on her first guests. These were a young woman, wearing a print frock and a man dressed in shirt and trousers. There were boos and hisses from members of the audience.
"My first guests are Herman and Clarissa" said Charles "They are members of a religious movement which advocates that the man is the natural head of the family and that the woman's duty is to obey and support him. As you can see, Herman and Clarissa are dressed as a man and a woman used to dress"
The boos and hisses intensfied.
"So, Clarissa, why do you think it is your duty to obey your husband?"
Clarissa gave a long winded speech saying god had ordained that man should hold dominion over woman and it was unnatural for any woman to upset that balance.
The reaction from the audience was very hostile. Charles, satisfied with the shock value, quickly ended the interview.
The next couple were Janice and Ian Reese-Dunston, an upper crust couple in their fifties. Janice wore a trouser suit and Ian wore a designer dress and high heels.
There was a polite ripple of applause from the audience.
"Janice and Ian are typical of a couple of today. They married young. Ian was initially the breadwinner and head of the family but Janice went back to work after their children went to school and soon earned more than Ian. Ian lost his job in the he-cession of 2008/09 and he and Janice switched traditional gender roles. This story is a very common one, but this one has an interesting twist" Charles stated.
Charles interviewed the couple. Janice said how liberating going out to work had been after years in the home and that she loved her job. Ian related how hard it had been going from being the breadwinner to being the secondary earner and then a househusband. But, his current state of dress had not been imposed on him by his dominant wife. Bored with housework, he had tried on his wife's clothes "for a bit of a laugh" but had found them so comfortable that he wore them as often as he could. Eventually, the couple switched clothes. "It suits us so much better" said Janice "And, frankly, and I hate to have to admit this, but Ian has better legs than me!"
That raised a titter from the audience.
But Janice said that she would not consider taking things further with Ian, such as making him take female hormones.
Charles wheeled on her next guests. These consisted of a tall, trouser suited woman who clearly worked out and her son, who had curly long blonde hair, a flawless, ladylike complexion and who wore a lace blouse and a long, embroidered skirt.
He looks more like a girl than any girl I have ever seen! was Ray's thought.
The boy tried to sit on a chair of his own, but his mother picked him up, even though he must have been at least ten years old, and made him sit on her lap.
Charles introduced them as Brianna and Karl Avery. "Brianna has already put her son on a course of female hormones, but she intends to take Karl's development further, with breast implants and even a complete sex change operation to make him into a full woman planned!"
Brianna was asked why she would consider doing those things. Brianna said "Karl is an adorable boy, but with a sex change he will not only look better but he will experience complete femininity. Karl wants this, don't you, Karl?"
The feminine boy snuggled up to his mother by way of reply.
"So" Charles said "We have had guests representing the traditional male/female roles, a typical couple - masculine womand and feminine man, and at the extreme end, a mother who wants to completely feminise her son, complete with breasts and female genitalia. Let's open up the debate to the floor - how feminine should men be?"
It was obvious that the traditional couple had gained no friends from the audience. They were completely hostile to a scenario where men were deemed to be superior to women. Almost of the audience to a woman approved of both the modern day couple and of Karl's mother. Some of the audience went even further and suggested that men should be completely feminised from birth or that sex selection procedures should be used to ensure that only female babies were produced, thus eventually weeding men out of the human race altogether.
Ray watched the closing credits were with a mixture of fascination and fear. Almost all women favoured the complete feminisation of males and now that they were in control, they were getting their way.
He lay in bed and to his horror, began weeping just like the girl he seemed to be turning into. He was confused, frightened and shocked by what he was turning into. He was being turned not into a modern woman, who was confident, assertive and aggressive, but a puny girl who exhibited classically feminine traits such as timidity, indecisiveness, submissiveness and a lack of self-confidence.
Unconsciously, Ray took refuge in femininity. He took a long bath, sprayed his body with perfumes, painted his nails and put on a silk nighdress. He undid the lace curtains and allowed them to surround his bed and then climbed into the soothing satin sheets. His vision was filled with the delicate lace of the curtains, his skin was caressed by the silk of his nightdress and the satin sheets of his bed. His senses were overcome with the musky scent of his own body.
Ray felt like he had entered a different plane and that he now he had some understanding of the delights of femininity.
He fell into a deep sleep. He had bizarre, confusing dreams of himself dressed in the gown and tiara of a fairytale princess and being awakened by the kiss of a handsome woman, or of him, dressed in a bikini wobbling down a fashion catwalk in front of an all woman audience, and, even more strangely, being dressed as a small girl, complete with ribbons in his curly hair, and playing with dollies, as his sisters used to do.
Ray suddenly woke up in a cold sweat. He lay awake for the rest of the morning, bewildered and very confused.
What was happening to him?
Tuesday, 1 March 2011
The Prodigal Son - 2028 - Part 5 - The Deflowering
"Go on, Ray, open the box!" his mother said encouragingly.
Ray tentatively lifted the pink lid slowly.
Within lay a gown in a pale shade of pink, that glittered brightly in spite of the fact that this was the evening and the lighting in his mother's mansion was dim.
Ray's brain registered that he would have to wear this gown to his cousin's wedding. His hands, holding the gown, felt its coolness and silkiness. It felt divine, but at the same time, shameful.
He was a man and had been brought up to be one. Yet, in a very short span, women had become so dominant that they been able to impose the yoke of femininity that they had borne for centuries and that they had escaped from, upon men.
"What a charming gown!" exclaimed his mother.
"Exquisite" murmured Ray's sister, Emma.
"He'll look such a dish in it!" said his other sister, Heather.
Emma was thinking, remembering something "It's quite weird isn't it? In the old days, before we women came into our own, we were the ones who had to look pretty. Once, I had to wear the most god awful bridesmaids' dress ever devised! I have never been more embaressed in my life."
Ray remembered the occasion well. He had sneered and poked fun at his sister, thankful that as a boy he would never have to wear such frilly, feminine things. How wrong he had been! Now the shoe was on the other foot and it was his turn to have to wear pretty things.
Emma giggled "Thank goodness those days are over. It's a woman's world now!"
Ray glared at her in resentment. He picked up the box and the gown and retreated to his room, leaving the women to gloat over their pre-eminence over the male of the species.
He tossed the box onto his princess bed, with it's lacy canopy and curtains. The whole room and everything in it was feminine. And disturbingly, it was making him more feminine with every passing day. He had to get away from it for a while.
He donned a simple blouse and skirt, put on a coat and slung his handbag over his shoulder and went out. He rode the tram to one of the poorer districts of town and to a public house called the Duck and Ferret.
The pub had seen better days. So had most of the people in it. Including Ray's mate, Doug.
Doug was gawping at him. Ray recalled that, the last time they had met in person, he had still been in traditional male garb. Now he was dressed in an expensive skirt and blouse, hosiery and high heels and carried a designer handbag.
"Close your mouth, Doug. There are flies in here!" It was true. There were a couple of flies buzzing around the bar.
"You look gorgeous, Ray. What a lovely woman you make!"
"What a lovely man I make! This is how working men have to dress! If I truly was a woman, I would be wearing trousers and we wouldn't be having this meeting. Are you going to get me a drink?"
"I would if I could, darl..mate, but as you know I have a cashflow problem".
Ray sighed and reached for his handbag. He gave Doug some notes and sent him to the bar. Doug returned with a pint for himself and some pork scratchings and a glass of white wine for Ray.
Doug regarded the glass of wine "Blimey mate, you're drinking wine. That's a bird's drink! What have they done to you?"
Ray ignored the question and sipped his wine. He was used to better quality wine than this.
Doug asked him, in a low voice "Have you found anything out out about the security at that Ala whatever place?"
"It's called Al La Mode, Doug, and yes, I've found out about where the cameras are positioned and the routine of the security force, but I can't get hold of the combination for the safe. I'm a very junior assistant there".
"Crap!" said Doug "The guards and cameras are the easy part, but we can't be going around blowing up the safe. We have to have that combination! You're not just an employee, you're family! Exploit that!"
"Believe me, Doug, I'm as eager as you to end this. I don't know how much more I can take. Do you know what I'll be doing the weekend after next? I'll be pouncing about in a pink gown at my cousin's wedding! And he is the bride! He's got a white gown and veil and everything".
Doug shuddered "I feel for you, mate, I really do", he said with little sincerity "But I need that money yesterday. Vince Reardon had words with me the other day and left me in no doubt that my life won't be worth living if he doesn't get his money. Soon".
Ray sighed "I'll do my best. I have to go now. I'll contact you by phone when I have any news".
"See you, mate. Oh, and mate?"
Ray turned around enquiringly.
"You have fantastic legs!"
Ray left the pub and rode the tram to the city centre. He was running low on cash and decided to make a stop to visit a cashpoint. Now that he was earning, he had opened a bank account and had a cashpoint card. He had to trek for ten minutes until he found a cash point that didn't threaten to charge him for withdrawing his own money. He withdrew fifty pounds. It would be enough for sundry expenditure.
He began walking back to the tram stop, his heels clicking against the pavement. He clutched his handbag close to him. As he was about to round a corner, some girls, dressed in scruffy denims and leather jackets, jumped out and surrounded him. They were armed with knives.
Their leader, a tall girl of about seventeen or thereabouts with a shaved head and tattoos, brandished her knife at Ray's stomach. "Hand over the bag, bitch!'
Ray was helpless. Even if he had not been wearing a skirt and heels, he was no match for half a dozen knive wielding girls. He meekly handed his handbag over.
The leader opened the bag. She tossed out Ray's compact and cosmetics. They littered the floor. She impatiently opened Ray's purse and pulled out the money inside and then threw the purse and handbag aside also.
"Give me your jewellery, bitch". Reluctantly, Ray took off his necklace and watch and gave them to the girl.
One of the other girls piped up "Hey, Trace, look at what he's wearing! They're designer. I'd stake my last fag on it!"
Trace looked more closely at Ray's clothes and said "Take them off, bitch!"
Ray protested "I can't go around in just my underwear!"
Trace waved her blade menacingly in his direction "That's enough from you, bitch. Strip down to your undies!"
Ray wriggled out of his skirt, took off his jacket and unbuttoned his silk blouse, feeling ashamed.
Trace took the clothes from him and looked at the feminised male shivering in just his boy-bra, knickers and lace topped stockings "You look pretty cute like that, bitch. If I didn't have to go, I might even fancy you! C'mon girls, we're outta here".
The gang disappeared as quickly as they had arrived. Ray retrieved his handbag and most of its contents. He had to use his handbag to hide his groin. He was frightened and vulnerable and had no idea how he was going to get home.
He checked his purse. The girls had left his bank card. They were not that sophisticated, only after quick hits for cash and valuables easy to fence, he figured. He would have to go back to the cashpoint, as underdressed as he was, and withdraw more money.
After taking out another fifty pounds, Ray decided to flag down the first taxi that came along. It would be less embarrassing than using public transport. He waited in vain for several minutes, freezing his nuts off in the cold.
He was about to go and find the nearest tram stop when he saw two familiar faces. Debs and Charlie. The two women with whom he had had a disastrous encounter a few weeks ago. It took the two girls a few moments to recognise him and when they did they almost split their sides laughing.
Ray felt deeply humiliated for them to see him like this.
The girls composed themselves and took charge. Any residue of ill will from their previous encounter seemed to have gone. Charlie was wearing a long brown coat over her suit. She took it off and insisted Ray should wear it. Ray gratefully put it on. He was immediately warmer and felt less vulnerable.
The girls took him to the nearest pub and insisted on buying him a drink. Then another and another. They were really taking care of him. Ray was touched, especially considering he had behaved less than well when he had last met them.
Ray was beginning to enjoy himself and he lost track of time. He was shocked when last orders was called. He told the girls he had to get home.
"Don't be so silly. There are hardly any trams around this time of night" Debs said "And the taxis will rip you off. Come back to our place. We insist, don't we, Charlie?"
"Yeah" said Charlie "We'll be well put out if you don't stay over".
Ray would have preferred to have gone home, but these girls had helped him out at a time when he had really needed help. It would be churlish to refuse and besides he was tired out after his ordeal.
"Thanks, girls, it's really kind of you to take care of me. I wasn't very nice to you last time..."
"Oh, don't worry about that. Charlie and me have already forgotten all about...oh, do you know, I can't even remember what I'm supposed to have forgotten! Do you, Charlie?"
Charlie feigned looking dumb "No idea what you're talking about, Debs".
"There! You see, as far as we're concerned, we're mates. All three of us. And mates take care of each other".
The girls escorted him back to their flat and ran him a bath. Charlie put his underwear into the washing machine and set it off. Ray definitely felt better being in a nice flat and sitting in a warm bath.
When he got out, Charlie escorted him to the bedroom that she and Debs shared and gently pushed him inside. "There are some things for you to wear on the bed".
Ray had half-guessed what they would find for him to wear. The pink basque and thong set, fishnet stockings and pink stilettos they had tried to make him wear last time. Sighing, he put them on. After almost a fortnight in feminine clothing, the outfit seemed tame.
He went out and presented himself to the two women. The two women gave him admiring looks 'What a pretty man you are!"
"Yes!" Charlie almost growled, like a lioness. "We're going to enjoy ravishing you!"
Ray was shocked by the sudden transformation of the two women. They had become sexually aroused, and sexually aggressive, at the sight of him in a basque. They were all over him. Kissing and fondling him and cupping his balls in their hands.
A few weeks ago, the old Ray would have take control of the situation and taken them, but the feminised Ray was indecisive and timid and just accepted that these women were in control. He was deeply puzzled and disturbed at his own behaviour. Where had his masculine instincts gone?
Debs impatiently tore off his thong and flung it aside. The two girls steered him towards the bedroom and pushed him face down onto the double bed that the girls shared. Debs, a generously built girl, sat astride him. Ray was pinned and couldn't move. He could barely breathe underneath Debs's bulk. He wondered what they were up to. Some kind of kinky sex game.
Charlie pulled something out of a drawer. Ray's eyes widened when he saw it was a dildo. A huge dildo. Charlie stripped naked and straped the dildo to her groin. Ray knew what was coming next but was powerless to do anything. He watched in fascination and terror, as the girl mounted and thrust her member inside him.
"Go, Charlie!" shouted Debs "Deflower the pretty boy!" Charlie giggled.
Ray's mind tried to come to terms with what was happening to him. He was being taken, just like a woman. He was not only being made to fulfil a feminine role in the wider world, but to adopt the position of a female in the bedroom.
Charlie took several minutes to satisfy herself before swapping places with Debs and allowing Debs her turn. At last, it was over. The two girls released him. Ray began crying. He couldn't stop himself. The humiliation was too much! The girls comforted him and said what a good boy he had been before sending him off to sleep in the spare room.
Ray was sore and very humiliated, but, to his shame, a part of him had actually enjoyed the experience. For once, there was no pressure, no need to be in control, no need to be a man. All he had to do was to submit to the will of two stronger females and take all of the pleasure that they had to give him. It was almost kind of liberating!
In the morning, Ray and the girls had breakfast, all smiles and goodwill. Ray used the girls' phone to call the police and he had to spend a tedious few hours down the police station giving a statement. Not that he held out much hope of ever getting his clothes, money and jewellery back. When he got back to the flat, still wearing Charlie's coat, the girls had gone out.
They had left a note with a neighbour which read "Thanks for a wonderful evening. It was lovely taking you! You're now our pretty bitch. You must come round again, soon! Love, Debs and Charlie xxx".
Ray felt like tearing the note up. The girls had used him, against his will, for their own pleasure. Instead, he folded it up and slipped it into his purse and smiled, for he had, he realised, enjoyed the experience of being dominated, penetrated and used. It was the ultimate gender role reversal, he realised.
Ray tentatively lifted the pink lid slowly.
Within lay a gown in a pale shade of pink, that glittered brightly in spite of the fact that this was the evening and the lighting in his mother's mansion was dim.
Ray's brain registered that he would have to wear this gown to his cousin's wedding. His hands, holding the gown, felt its coolness and silkiness. It felt divine, but at the same time, shameful.
He was a man and had been brought up to be one. Yet, in a very short span, women had become so dominant that they been able to impose the yoke of femininity that they had borne for centuries and that they had escaped from, upon men.
"What a charming gown!" exclaimed his mother.
"Exquisite" murmured Ray's sister, Emma.
"He'll look such a dish in it!" said his other sister, Heather.
Emma was thinking, remembering something "It's quite weird isn't it? In the old days, before we women came into our own, we were the ones who had to look pretty. Once, I had to wear the most god awful bridesmaids' dress ever devised! I have never been more embaressed in my life."
Ray remembered the occasion well. He had sneered and poked fun at his sister, thankful that as a boy he would never have to wear such frilly, feminine things. How wrong he had been! Now the shoe was on the other foot and it was his turn to have to wear pretty things.
Emma giggled "Thank goodness those days are over. It's a woman's world now!"
Ray glared at her in resentment. He picked up the box and the gown and retreated to his room, leaving the women to gloat over their pre-eminence over the male of the species.
He tossed the box onto his princess bed, with it's lacy canopy and curtains. The whole room and everything in it was feminine. And disturbingly, it was making him more feminine with every passing day. He had to get away from it for a while.
He donned a simple blouse and skirt, put on a coat and slung his handbag over his shoulder and went out. He rode the tram to one of the poorer districts of town and to a public house called the Duck and Ferret.
The pub had seen better days. So had most of the people in it. Including Ray's mate, Doug.
Doug was gawping at him. Ray recalled that, the last time they had met in person, he had still been in traditional male garb. Now he was dressed in an expensive skirt and blouse, hosiery and high heels and carried a designer handbag.
"Close your mouth, Doug. There are flies in here!" It was true. There were a couple of flies buzzing around the bar.
"You look gorgeous, Ray. What a lovely woman you make!"
"What a lovely man I make! This is how working men have to dress! If I truly was a woman, I would be wearing trousers and we wouldn't be having this meeting. Are you going to get me a drink?"
"I would if I could, darl..mate, but as you know I have a cashflow problem".
Ray sighed and reached for his handbag. He gave Doug some notes and sent him to the bar. Doug returned with a pint for himself and some pork scratchings and a glass of white wine for Ray.
Doug regarded the glass of wine "Blimey mate, you're drinking wine. That's a bird's drink! What have they done to you?"
Ray ignored the question and sipped his wine. He was used to better quality wine than this.
Doug asked him, in a low voice "Have you found anything out out about the security at that Ala whatever place?"
"It's called Al La Mode, Doug, and yes, I've found out about where the cameras are positioned and the routine of the security force, but I can't get hold of the combination for the safe. I'm a very junior assistant there".
"Crap!" said Doug "The guards and cameras are the easy part, but we can't be going around blowing up the safe. We have to have that combination! You're not just an employee, you're family! Exploit that!"
"Believe me, Doug, I'm as eager as you to end this. I don't know how much more I can take. Do you know what I'll be doing the weekend after next? I'll be pouncing about in a pink gown at my cousin's wedding! And he is the bride! He's got a white gown and veil and everything".
Doug shuddered "I feel for you, mate, I really do", he said with little sincerity "But I need that money yesterday. Vince Reardon had words with me the other day and left me in no doubt that my life won't be worth living if he doesn't get his money. Soon".
Ray sighed "I'll do my best. I have to go now. I'll contact you by phone when I have any news".
"See you, mate. Oh, and mate?"
Ray turned around enquiringly.
"You have fantastic legs!"
Ray left the pub and rode the tram to the city centre. He was running low on cash and decided to make a stop to visit a cashpoint. Now that he was earning, he had opened a bank account and had a cashpoint card. He had to trek for ten minutes until he found a cash point that didn't threaten to charge him for withdrawing his own money. He withdrew fifty pounds. It would be enough for sundry expenditure.
He began walking back to the tram stop, his heels clicking against the pavement. He clutched his handbag close to him. As he was about to round a corner, some girls, dressed in scruffy denims and leather jackets, jumped out and surrounded him. They were armed with knives.
Their leader, a tall girl of about seventeen or thereabouts with a shaved head and tattoos, brandished her knife at Ray's stomach. "Hand over the bag, bitch!'
Ray was helpless. Even if he had not been wearing a skirt and heels, he was no match for half a dozen knive wielding girls. He meekly handed his handbag over.
The leader opened the bag. She tossed out Ray's compact and cosmetics. They littered the floor. She impatiently opened Ray's purse and pulled out the money inside and then threw the purse and handbag aside also.
"Give me your jewellery, bitch". Reluctantly, Ray took off his necklace and watch and gave them to the girl.
One of the other girls piped up "Hey, Trace, look at what he's wearing! They're designer. I'd stake my last fag on it!"
Trace looked more closely at Ray's clothes and said "Take them off, bitch!"
Ray protested "I can't go around in just my underwear!"
Trace waved her blade menacingly in his direction "That's enough from you, bitch. Strip down to your undies!"
Ray wriggled out of his skirt, took off his jacket and unbuttoned his silk blouse, feeling ashamed.
Trace took the clothes from him and looked at the feminised male shivering in just his boy-bra, knickers and lace topped stockings "You look pretty cute like that, bitch. If I didn't have to go, I might even fancy you! C'mon girls, we're outta here".
The gang disappeared as quickly as they had arrived. Ray retrieved his handbag and most of its contents. He had to use his handbag to hide his groin. He was frightened and vulnerable and had no idea how he was going to get home.
He checked his purse. The girls had left his bank card. They were not that sophisticated, only after quick hits for cash and valuables easy to fence, he figured. He would have to go back to the cashpoint, as underdressed as he was, and withdraw more money.
After taking out another fifty pounds, Ray decided to flag down the first taxi that came along. It would be less embarrassing than using public transport. He waited in vain for several minutes, freezing his nuts off in the cold.
He was about to go and find the nearest tram stop when he saw two familiar faces. Debs and Charlie. The two women with whom he had had a disastrous encounter a few weeks ago. It took the two girls a few moments to recognise him and when they did they almost split their sides laughing.
Ray felt deeply humiliated for them to see him like this.
The girls composed themselves and took charge. Any residue of ill will from their previous encounter seemed to have gone. Charlie was wearing a long brown coat over her suit. She took it off and insisted Ray should wear it. Ray gratefully put it on. He was immediately warmer and felt less vulnerable.
The girls took him to the nearest pub and insisted on buying him a drink. Then another and another. They were really taking care of him. Ray was touched, especially considering he had behaved less than well when he had last met them.
Ray was beginning to enjoy himself and he lost track of time. He was shocked when last orders was called. He told the girls he had to get home.
"Don't be so silly. There are hardly any trams around this time of night" Debs said "And the taxis will rip you off. Come back to our place. We insist, don't we, Charlie?"
"Yeah" said Charlie "We'll be well put out if you don't stay over".
Ray would have preferred to have gone home, but these girls had helped him out at a time when he had really needed help. It would be churlish to refuse and besides he was tired out after his ordeal.
"Thanks, girls, it's really kind of you to take care of me. I wasn't very nice to you last time..."
"Oh, don't worry about that. Charlie and me have already forgotten all about...oh, do you know, I can't even remember what I'm supposed to have forgotten! Do you, Charlie?"
Charlie feigned looking dumb "No idea what you're talking about, Debs".
"There! You see, as far as we're concerned, we're mates. All three of us. And mates take care of each other".
The girls escorted him back to their flat and ran him a bath. Charlie put his underwear into the washing machine and set it off. Ray definitely felt better being in a nice flat and sitting in a warm bath.
When he got out, Charlie escorted him to the bedroom that she and Debs shared and gently pushed him inside. "There are some things for you to wear on the bed".
Ray had half-guessed what they would find for him to wear. The pink basque and thong set, fishnet stockings and pink stilettos they had tried to make him wear last time. Sighing, he put them on. After almost a fortnight in feminine clothing, the outfit seemed tame.
He went out and presented himself to the two women. The two women gave him admiring looks 'What a pretty man you are!"
"Yes!" Charlie almost growled, like a lioness. "We're going to enjoy ravishing you!"
Ray was shocked by the sudden transformation of the two women. They had become sexually aroused, and sexually aggressive, at the sight of him in a basque. They were all over him. Kissing and fondling him and cupping his balls in their hands.
A few weeks ago, the old Ray would have take control of the situation and taken them, but the feminised Ray was indecisive and timid and just accepted that these women were in control. He was deeply puzzled and disturbed at his own behaviour. Where had his masculine instincts gone?
Debs impatiently tore off his thong and flung it aside. The two girls steered him towards the bedroom and pushed him face down onto the double bed that the girls shared. Debs, a generously built girl, sat astride him. Ray was pinned and couldn't move. He could barely breathe underneath Debs's bulk. He wondered what they were up to. Some kind of kinky sex game.
Charlie pulled something out of a drawer. Ray's eyes widened when he saw it was a dildo. A huge dildo. Charlie stripped naked and straped the dildo to her groin. Ray knew what was coming next but was powerless to do anything. He watched in fascination and terror, as the girl mounted and thrust her member inside him.
"Go, Charlie!" shouted Debs "Deflower the pretty boy!" Charlie giggled.
Ray's mind tried to come to terms with what was happening to him. He was being taken, just like a woman. He was not only being made to fulfil a feminine role in the wider world, but to adopt the position of a female in the bedroom.
Charlie took several minutes to satisfy herself before swapping places with Debs and allowing Debs her turn. At last, it was over. The two girls released him. Ray began crying. He couldn't stop himself. The humiliation was too much! The girls comforted him and said what a good boy he had been before sending him off to sleep in the spare room.
Ray was sore and very humiliated, but, to his shame, a part of him had actually enjoyed the experience. For once, there was no pressure, no need to be in control, no need to be a man. All he had to do was to submit to the will of two stronger females and take all of the pleasure that they had to give him. It was almost kind of liberating!
In the morning, Ray and the girls had breakfast, all smiles and goodwill. Ray used the girls' phone to call the police and he had to spend a tedious few hours down the police station giving a statement. Not that he held out much hope of ever getting his clothes, money and jewellery back. When he got back to the flat, still wearing Charlie's coat, the girls had gone out.
They had left a note with a neighbour which read "Thanks for a wonderful evening. It was lovely taking you! You're now our pretty bitch. You must come round again, soon! Love, Debs and Charlie xxx".
Ray felt like tearing the note up. The girls had used him, against his will, for their own pleasure. Instead, he folded it up and slipped it into his purse and smiled, for he had, he realised, enjoyed the experience of being dominated, penetrated and used. It was the ultimate gender role reversal, he realised.
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