tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33246252633505201612024-03-19T01:48:19.413-07:00Gender Role ReversalGirls are outperforming boys at every level of education, Women are overtaking men in the workplace in both status and pay. More men are becoming househusbands. Girls are becoming more assertive and aggressive whilst boys are becoming more feminine. Females are poised to become the dominant gender in trousers, whilst males will find themselves as homemakers and obliged to wear skirts, high heels and make up. This is the future...Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.comBlogger133125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-37092463992552623332013-05-06T04:34:00.000-07:002013-05-06T04:34:17.393-07:00Making the SwitchThis is the story of my twins, Philip and Charlene. When they were born, they looked like perfect boy and girl babies. Their babyhood proceeded along very traditional lines. Philip was dressed in blue with minimal fripperies and had his hair short whilst Charlene was decked out in pink with lots of frothy lace, frills and bows and her hair grew into a mass of cute ringlets.<br />
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Charlene was encouraged to play with soft toys and in time dolls and other girlish things, whilst for Philip it was sports and more rough and tumble activities. My kids seemed to be developing along traditional gender paths. I did all this instinctively as it mirrored my own upbringing as a girl and that of my husband. It hadn't done us any harm had it?<br />
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The kids soon grew from infanthood into a little boy and a little girl. Charlene of course went into frocks and skirts whilst Philip wore shorts or trousers. In time, my husband, Greg, began taking Philip with him to soccer matches whilst Charlene stayed home with me and either played with her girl friends or read books.<br />
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It was when Philip and Charlene were aged around ten that things began to blur. By this time, Greg had encouraged Philip to sign up for soccer. Philip was not a bad player and got onto the school team. Greg was thrilled with his son but I would have rather Philip concentrated less on football and more on his grades, which seemed to get progressively worse each academic year.<br />
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The real change was in Charlene. She was becoming more outspoken and rebellious towards me as she grew older. She positively hated being made to look pretty. At every opportunity, she would get out of her school uniform or frock that I had instructed her to wear around the house and don jeans or shorts. At first, I thought this was just a fad she would grow out of. I tried to encourage her to embrace her femininity but buying her nice jewellery and promising when she was older she could get her hair permed and her ears pierced.<br />
<br />
In my experience, most girls would welcome these things so imagine my shock the following day when Charlene arrived home from school with a buzz cut, her beautiful ringlets all gone! She had nipped out in her lunch hour to a barbers and got them to shear off her hair. She looked rather like a boy, albeit a rather effeminate one, dressed up in a girls' school uniform. I scolded her and grounded her as a punishment, but the loss of her hair had been her way of saying that she was done with girl stuff.<br />
<br />
Of course, I couldn't keep her grounded indefinitely, so we came to a compromise that gave her some of what she wanted and yet preserved parental authority. Charlene could wear trousers around the house and even outside when playing with her friends, but she would have to dress up nice ie in a frock when relatives visited or for special occassions and she had to agree not to get her hair cut without our permission.<br />
<br />
That seemed to have solved that issue. But then Charlene wanted in on the soccer matches. Why, she would ask, was it only Philip that went with Dad? Why couldn't she go too? Greg was dead against the idea. She was a girl, she was fragile, she might get hurt, he would argue. Charlene replied that she certainly wasn't fragile and anyway what harm could happen with her big strong Daddy to take care of her?<br />
<br />
She was clever, was Charlene, and twisted Greg right round her little finger. He relented and so the three of them went off to watch soccer once or twice a month thereafter. Charlene quickly developed a strong interest in soccer and soon she no longer merely wanted to watch others play, she wanted to be out there herself.<br />
<br />
But she found that there was a problem with that. There was no girls' soccer team at the school. She tried to join the existing squad but they told her it was for boys only. That was not an answer that my headstrong and determined daughter was ever going to accept so her answer was to disguise herself as a boy and go for the trials that happened once a month. Her hair was still short enough for her to pass muster. The coaches were so impressed with her soccer skills that they offered her a place on the team right away.<br />
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Charlene then had to reveal her true gender and identity, which caused no small amount of consternation. But there was no denying her ability with a ball and so single-handedly, Charlene caused an earthquake. A girl being allowed to join a previously all male squad. Rules and traditions were consigned to the scrapheap of history.<br />
<br />
One player wasn't happy about it. Philip. Charlene, it turned out, was a better soccer player than her brother and Philip felt that she was showing him up. There were rows between them over incidents that had taken place on the pitch. Sometimes it was like world war three in our house and I or Greg had to become the United Nations and get them to calm down.<br />
<br />
Then, to make Philip's misery complete, Charlene was made the striker as she was the team's top goal scorer. As for Philip, he was dropped from the team to make way for another talented newcomer. Another girl, as it happened. Philip became bitter and resentful of his sister and wouldn't hear a good word being said about her. He detested her so much, he even forfeited his outings to the soccer matches.<br />
<br />
So, every other weekend, it was my husband and daughter who went off to watch soccer, and my son who stayed home. I guessed it must have been hard for him to come to terms with the fact that not only was his sister a better soccer player than him, but perhaps a better boy. I tried to get him to concentrate more on his studies and made him work through a math assignment, but he was in no mood.<br />
<br />
OK, I thought, but he's not going to simply sit around all afternoon, so I gave him a choice. Either he worked through his assignment or he helped me with chores. As Philip would do anything to avoid math, he agreed to help me. I took him to the kitchen and took a pinny off a rack. It was a bit flowery and girly, and Philip objected when I told him he was to wear it to protect his clothes, but when I made it clear that he had no choice he accepted it albeit with ill grace.<br />
<br />
I got him to wash up and do some dusting. His efforts did not meet my standards at first, so I made him do them again. Philip did so and without any back chat. I was surprised that he could be so agreeable and docile. Charlene, by contrast, hated chores and would complain so I had just stopped making her do them, it was less trouble and ear-ache.<br />
<br />
Greg and Charlene were highly surprised when they arrived home that evening to find Philip in a pinny and dusting some ornaments. Greg was bemused but Charlene was a little unkind, calling her brother a little sissy and a mother's boy. Philip was of course embarressed and felt humiliated, so I told Charlene off and made her got to her room until she learnt to be kinder to people.<br />
<br />
So, from that day onwards, I now had a little helper in my son. He seemed to enjoy attacking the chores with gusto and he soon got used to his pinny, as did his sister and father. I found it a little amusing that my son seemed to have assumed the traditional girl's role.<br />
<br />
The next thing that happened was that, on one of those Saturdays, whilst only Philip and I were home, one of our neighbours, Sally Kirk, paid us an unexpected visit. Sally is a lovely neighbour, but a bit ditzy. She was a major force when it came to organising things and was always furiously busy doing something or other. Anyway, she barged in with a load of dresses and seemed to be on the verge of panic.<br />
<br />
I got her to sit down, take a deep breath and explain to me calmly what was wrong. Sally told me that her current project was to arrange a wedding fayre. This one was geared more towards girls than grown women for some reason. She indicated the pile of dresses, which were clearly for bridesmaids rather than actual bridal attire. It transpired that Sally had forgotten to tell the girls who would be wearing the dresses that she needed to fit them today and the girls in question were away for the weekend on some school trip. So, she had turned up in the hope of finding Charlene here. <br />
<br />
I was exasperated, for I had told Sally not two days earlier that Charlene went to see or play soccer most weekends. Anyway, she was not here and would not be home for hours. Plus, although I did not venture to say so, she would not be thrilled at the idea of modelling dresses. Sally became agitated once again and so in desperation I came up with the solution.<br />
<br />
Sally had told me that she had all of the measurements of the girls and that all she needed was one model. OK, Philip was not a girl, but at age eleven he had a height and build that was similar to that of his sister, so I told Sally that we had a model. Sally almost knelt down and kissed my feet in gratitude.<br />
<br />
But, of course, Philip was not enamoured of the plan. Wearing a pinny was one thing, but actually wearing a dress? It took a lot of sweet talking and promises to get him to consent, but he agreed. We put him into the first dress, a concoction of deep purple satin. It fitted so perfectly that it could almost have been made for him and he did look a lot like his sister.<br />
<br />
Sally was stunned by how pretty Philip had been made to look and suggested that he might want to appear as one of the bridesmaids at the fayre himself. As it took Sally a lot of time to make the necessary adjustments, a lot of patience was required of the model and Philip behaved admirably. With each successive gown, he seemed to become happier and it all became very enjoyable.<br />
<br />
A few hours later, finally, Sally had finished on the last dress and Philip was released. Peace and harmony was restored once Sally and her dresses had departed. Philip had a strangely dreamy expression on his face and I guessed that he had actually enjoyed wearing the dresses. I supposed that the feel of silk, satin, taffeta and all of the other fine materials - not usually worn by males - had been a pleasure to him.<br />
<br />
Philip's interest in girlish things had been stirred and he shyly confided to me that he wouldn't mind wearing a dress more often - just to see what it was like. I was stunned at the proposal at first, but got him one of Charlene's old dresses, that she wouldn't miss, and let him wear it when Greg and Charlene weren't around.<br />
<br />
He clearly enjoyed the experience and wanted more. Charlene's room was raided for more dresses, underwear and shoes. Whenever we were alone, Philip turned into a girl completely. I found it hard to believe that the very feminine figure wearing a frock, frilly underthings, mary-janes and jewellery was actually my son.<br />
<br />
But soon, his yearnings began to get out of control. Just as Charlene refused to take no for an answer over soccer and wearing boys' things, her brother was equally as stubborn. He clearly wanted to be a girl full-time, with all of the implications that involved. To deny him would make him terribly unhappy. So, first off, I had to let Greg and Charlene into the secret. Greg was taken aback and Charlene was in hysterics at first but they became supportive. As Charlene herself had had to fight battles to be allowed to play soccer, she understood the situation, perhaps better than any of us.<br />
<br />
So we made it happen. Philip finished at the school he was at and on the following Monday he attended another school, but as Pippa. I felt proud of him as he went off for his first day as a schoolgirl. The staff and other pupils became aware later of his true gender, but accepted him as a girl. He even made the cheerleading squad.<br />
<br />
As it happened, Charlene's school and Philip's new school were to play each other at soccer. Greg and I went along to watch. We were proud as Charlene scored two goals, and hoisted the trophy aloft as was her right as the team Captain, but we were equally proud of our son, who made a very pretty and energetic cheerleader.<br />
<br />
The journey had been an unusual one for any family but now our kids had escaped from the powerful constrictions imposed by gender and we were one happy family.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-26382587946066111112013-04-28T05:32:00.002-07:002013-04-28T05:32:27.347-07:00No Boys!Abi willed herself to be patient as her parents faffed about. Dad was straightening his bow-tie in the mirror (again!). Mum was fussing over whether she should wear her fake fur coat or just take a fox fur stole.<br />
<br />
More minutes passed and Abi was steadily losing patience with her parents although she remained calm and continued to smile as Mum explained how to cook her brother's favourite meal. Pizza. Like everyone knows what to do with a pizza right?<br />
<br />
Just as Abi was ready to go mad, she was saved by the toot-toot of the taxi. Almost panicking, Mum and Dad gathered all their things, gave Abi a perfunctory kiss, and finally left. The fragrance of Mum's perfume hung in the air for a couple of minutes after they had gone.<br />
<br />
Finally! Yes!!!!! Abi savoured the moment. For the next six hours, no parents to tell her when to go to bed or to tell what she could or could not do. She had the house all to herself.<br />
<br />
Well, actually, that was not wholly accurate, Abi remembered with a frown. Her younger brother, Dan, was still around. Up in his bedroom playing some silly computer game probably. Even so, Abi had been left in charge and Dan would do what he was told.<br />
<br />
Without another moment's hesitation, Abi whipped out her mobile phoned and called each of the girls in turn to say "OK. All clear. Get on over here!" Abi went to put some pizzas in the oven and prepared drinks and snacks.<br />
<br />
Then she ventured upstairs to her brother's room. The door was closed, but Abi could hear sounds of gunshots and explosions at an annoyingly high volume. Abi grit her teeth with irritation. She had been planning a night in with her best friends for weeks and nothing, repeat, nothing, was going to interfere with it. Least of all her little squirt of a brother and his stupid game.<br />
<br />
Abi tried banging on the door to get Dan's attention, but the background noise was too loud for him to hear, so Abi barged her way in. Dan was sitting on the floor, mesmerised by what was going on in whatever alternative reality world he was currently visiting. He was startled when his sister suddenly appeared.<br />
<br />
Abi had only been in the room a matter of seconds and she already felt on the verge of a headache due to the noise. What it must be doing to Dan's senses she dreaded to think. Thankfully, Dan had paused the game and most of the sound suddenly dissipated, except for some background music.<br />
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"Abi! What ya doing in here? This is my room!" Dan protested. Abi realised that he was mortally offended that she had dared to breach his domain and interrupt his game.<br />
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Abi pointed to the screen and said "That is way too loud! Turn it down!"<br />
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"No" Dan said sulkily "It's meant to be loud" in a tone that suggested "Girls! Don't they understand ANYTHING?"<br />
<br />
"Dan, listen to me and listen good. My friends will be here soon and we don't want ANY noise or interruptions from you. Got it? If you ruin my evening, I'll ruin your life I promise you! Now turn that thing down and keep it turned down!"<br />
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To Abi's surprise, Dan meekly complied. "Thanks!" she said "I've got your pizza in the oven and I'll bring it up to you with a drink shortly. Please can you stay out of the way for a few hours?" Dan nodded.<br />
<br />
Later, Abi gave Dan his pizza and drink and left him in his room. She had been relieved at his compliant attitude. She had expected him to be more of a handful. Not that she couldn't have dealt with him if he had been of course but it was nice not to have to have a fight for a change.<br />
<br />
The girls appeared. Melanie, Natalie, Helen and Suzie. They were loaded down with clothes and make up. Abi led them to the living room and closed the door behind them. Pinned to the door was a sign that read "No boys!". Just to make it clear to Dan that the room was out of bounds to him.<br />
<br />
The next few hours were paradise. Abi and her friends were all fourteen, all in the same form at school, and all eager to experiment with clothes and make up. There were hysterics at the girls' first attempts at make up, modelling the clothes and trying to walk in high heels for the first time but with more practice the girls were becoming more accomplished at the feminine arts.<br />
<br />
To Abi's intense annoyance, there was a knock at the door. It could only be Dan. She raced to the door and opened it a fraction "Go away!" she hissed before closing it again. The knocking persisted. The other girls looked at Abi "Who's that?" Melanie asked.<br />
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"Only my pipsqueak of a brother" Abi said through clenched teeth "Don't worry, I'll get rid of him asap". I'll murder him for this!<br />
<br />
But the other girls shook their heads "Let him in. It might be fun to have a boy here".<br />
<br />
Abi stared at her friends incredulously. Were they mad? Reluctantly, she opened the door "What do you want Dan?" she asked angrily. Dan looked small and curious "I got bored playing my computer game so I wondered what you were doing".<br />
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"Dan, me and my friends are doing girl stuff. Definitely not for boys". Abi hoped the emphasis on "girl" would make him run a mile, or at least, retreat to his room.<br />
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But the other girls called out "Hi Dan! Come in and join us!" and so Abi had no choice but to let him in. The others cooed and fussed over him "Isn't he a little sweetheart?". They asked Dan for his opinion on how each girl looked, and he had the grace at least to give flattering verdicts, which pleased the girls no end.<br />
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A little later, when everyone had got bored of modelling clothes and putting on make up, and they were all flaked out on the sofa someone said "I think Dan would make a good looking girl! What does everyone else think?"<br />
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Everyone agreed. Except for Abi. My brother as a girl? She couldn't think of anything more ludicrous. And Dan himself "But.....I'm not a girl....."<br />
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Melanie kissed him "Not right now, no, but with the right clothes and some make up we'll make you look gorgeous!"<br />
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"Don't be silly" Abi intervened "We're not dressing my brother up as a girl!"<br />
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"Oooh.....Abi......you're a right old miss bossy boots!" Mel turned to Dan "Is she always this stroppy?"<br />
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Abi could see immediately that this was one fight she wasn't going to win. She was already being made to look bad in front of her friends "OK, ok. Fine. We'll turn Dan into a girl, if that's what you want!". The other girls cheered.<br />
<br />
Dan looked distinctly unhappy, but as he was surrounded by the girls, he had no way to escape.<br />
<br />
Mel took charge "OK Dan. Strip down to your undies!"<br />
<br />
Dan looked at Abi pleadingly, but his sister looked away. Reluctantly, he stripped down to his vest and pants. The girls, armed with emery boards and nail varnish, proceeded to shape and paint Dan's finger and toenails with a purple glittery varnish.<br />
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"OK" said Mel "Next. Clothes". Dan was given a bundle of clothes and sent to his room to change into them. He came down with his head down and his face red. He was wearing a floral patterned top that left his arms bare, a pink mini-skirt that left most of his legs bare and a pair of high heeled shoes that eh could barely walk in. Underneath the skimpy top, it was obvious that he was wearing a lacy bra and he wore a pair of matching lace knickers under the skirt.<br />
<br />
The girls then made him up and at the end of the process, his features had been softened and feminised and he looked just like a pretty girl with his false eyelashes and deep red lips. Finally, Dan was given a long blonde wig to wear that made him look more girlish than ever.<br />
<br />
Abi was amazed at the change in her brother's appearance. With just a change of clothes, the application of cosmetics and a wig, he really had been turned into a girl! They made him walk around in the high heels, adopting the pose of a female model.<br />
<br />
Dan had been embarressed and humiliated at first, but with the encouragement and approval of the girls, he began to accept his new feminine state. As the evening drew to a close, Dan was quickly de-feminised and willingly escaped to his room and the girls gradually departed.<br />
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Abi reflected that everything had turned out alright. She had been angry at her brother's intrusion, but as he become part of the entertainment and had even become one of the girls, Abi's anger had evaporated. Better still, during Dan's feminising process and whilst he had been dressed up, Abi had secretly been taking snapshots of him. From now on, he would have to do whatever Abi told him or she'd make sure those pictures of him as "Danielle" were circulated around the school. Abi snickered at the knowledge of the power she now held over her brother (and sometime sister).<br />
<br />
<br />Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-68240501211623602852013-02-10T08:29:00.000-08:002013-02-10T08:29:43.167-08:00I made a (wo)man of himMalcolm was having one of his episodes again. He violently hurled his newspaper at the cat, who expertly dodged it and ran upstairs.<br />
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"Bloody animal!" Malcolm snarled. He shook his fist "Always getting in my way!"<br />
<br />
I resisted the urge to tut. It would only enrage him further. "I have to go to work now" I told him, getting up and straightening my pencil skirt. With the mood Malcolm was currently in, I was grateful for the refuge offered by work. Unfortunately for Dandy, our aging cat, he did not have the same boon and he would have to put up with Malcolm until I got back home in the evening.<br />
<br />
As I drove to work, I decided that the "Malcolm Problem" was need to be resolved. We had been a real couple once upon a time. We had met at university. In those days, Malcolm had been cute and fun to be with. We married shortly after leaving university and had two lovely and bright twin daughters. We had been a happy family. Then, the girls grew up and left and then Malcolm was made redundant from his job as a printer.<br />
<br />
Malcolm had tried to find work but found that, at age 55, he was unemployable within his field and too proud to work elsewhere at a greatly reduced salary. As he had few friends outside work and no interests that he might take up, Malcolm found himself marooned at home. And he was not taking it well at all. I watched as my calm, placid husband gradually became a bad-tempered monster. He was increasingly becoming difficult to live with.<br />
<br />
At work, whilst doing a multitude of other things, I pondered what I could do about him. I even briefly toyed with the idea of murder. He was getting that bad. Other ideas, I considered and rejected. At the moment there seemed to be no answer.<br />
<br />
The answer came by pure chance a couple of weeks later when Malcolm complained of having back pains. He was scornful when I suggested going to the Doctor's. He considered it an affront to his masculinity to admit to weakness, except to me. I hit upon a solution and acted upon it. I went upstairs and brought down one of my old girdles and handed it to him.<br />
<br />
"Try this" I suggested. Malcolm looked at the garment with suspicion. With the floral panels and lacy trimmings, it was clearly female underwear. "I can't wear this! It's a woman's girdle!"<br />
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"Give it a try. No-one but me will know and I won't breathe a word to anyone, I promise" I assured him. For once, the logic overrode Malcolm's objections. He went upstairs and put it on. He shortly came back down and commented that his back felt a lot better with the girdle on. And that was not the only benefit. Malcolm seemed calmer and more in control of his emotions. For the first time in a long time, he didn't even swear at the cat.<br />
<br />
At my suggestion, Malcolm wore the girdle under his PJ's when we went to bed. Whilst I was reading a report for work. I couldn't help but notice that Malcolm seemed to like the feel of the girdle and its overall prettiness.<br />
<br />
This was a very interesting development!<br />
<br />
Malcolm did indeed appreciate the benefits of the girdle and continued to wear it the following day. In the meantime, I had decided to take things a little further. After work, I drove out to a lingerie store that I had found details of on the net during my lunch break. It was an Aladdin's cave of feminine lingerie. But, at this stage, I wasn't after a pair of outrageously frilly knickers or a see-through chemise. I purchased a new girdle. The new girdle was longer. It would add more support to Malcolm's back. Just as importantly, it was covered with white satin and I knew that Malcolm would enjoy the feel of it.<br />
<br />
The assistant was puzzled as the size of girdle was too big for me, but the girl said nothing. A wave of inspiration hit me and I decided to add some black silk stockings and a pair of white knickers to my purchase. The girl assistant held up the copiously sized knickers, much too big for me, and gave me a strange look, but took my money and handed over the bag filled with my husband's underwear.<br />
<br />
When I got home, I got Malcolm to try on the new girdle and he was very happy with it. It made his back feel a lot better, he said. I said nothing about the other underwear. I knew that nothing in the world would induce Malcolm to wear stockings or knickers at my suggestion. But if I left them lying around.....<br />
<br />
It took only a couple of days for Malcolm to overcome his masculine instincts whilst I was at work and try on the silky stockings, and then the knickers. He tried to hide the fact that he had worn them, but it was obvious that he had. But he was hopelessly hooked on feminine lingerie and after a little show of resistance, he gave into my suggestion that as he liked the stockings and knickers so much, he should wear them all of the time. I made another visit to the lingerie store and bought Malcolm a decent stock of women's underwear.<br />
<br />
Including, I should add, that most womanly of things, a bra!<br />
<br />
Malcolm was reluctant to wear it at first, but at the sight of the lacy, embroidered cups, his resistance crumbled and he allowed me to clap the bra onto him. As Malcolm had let himself go physically, he had man-boobs that could use the extra support.<br />
<br />
From that point onwards, Malcolm was putty in my hands and a willing accomplice to his own feminisation, and so the other changes that were to come, came rapidly. Malcolm allowed me to depilate him and file, shape varnish and paint his finger and toe nails. Malcolm began to use beauty products and creams, as well as cosmetics.<br />
<br />
As we lay together in bed, we must have made a strange sight. I wore a pair of ladies' silk PJ's, but my husband was clad in either a silk nightdress or negligee with his growing hair dyed and in rollers and his nails varnished. Underneath the night attire, Malcolm's body was hairless and perfumed. He felt and smelt a lot pleasanter than he used to, although it was becoming harder for me to believe that the feminised person who lay beside me every night was my husband.<br />
<br />
Finally, inevitably, Malcolm's original wardrobe was replaced by one more appropriate for a lady. Malcolm was as hooked on clothes, shoes and handbags as any real female and his wardrobe soon surpassed mine. In spite of his size, for Malcolm was almost six feet tall and broad with it, he made a convincing looking woman and, not only that, using moisterisers and make up knocked years off him so that he looked more like a woman in her early forties than a man aged almost 60.<br />
<br />
I was astonished by the transformation in Malcolm. He had been born a male, raised as one, and had lived as a man for over forty years, yet in less than six months he had willingly adapted to feminine dress and habits as if he had been born and raised as a female. In many ways, he was more feminine than I was, which I found a little disturbing.<br />
<br />
Entirely comfortable with his new feminine persona, Malcolm gave up looking for work and dedicated himself to being a househusband. He took on all of the chores and jobs that had once been mine. He learned cookery and baking. He had the sitting room redecorated in an style that I found overly feminine and which I did not particularly like but which I had to accept as my husband had assumed the same proprietal attitude towards the house as any housewife.<br />
<br />
As Malcolm became more confident, he wanted to go out dressed en femme, and so we went out to restaurants and cinemas together with him wearing a dress and heels and waltzing around as if being a woman was entirely natural to him. I looked and felt pretty dowdy beside my feminised peacock of a husband.<br />
<br />
With Malcolm having assumed the feminine role in our relationship, I was becoming the more masculine element. It was I who wore the trousers in every sense. I stopped having my hair styled and had it cut short so that I looked boyish. I stopped shaving my legs and armpits, using cosmetics and I even began wearing plain, unfeminine underwear. I was becoming the "man" of the house with a "wife" to take care of me and my home.<br />
<br />
Malcolm begged me to give up work so that we could spend more time together. That wasn't altogether a bad idea. I was almost 60 and I had been asked recently by my company if I would like to take early retirement. With Malcolm's redundancy money and our pensions, we would be reasonably well off. So I accepted and finished work.<br />
<br />
Malcolm's 60th birthday was looming on the horizon and I decided that the best way to celebrate it would be for us to reaffirm our wedding vows with, of course, our traditional roles reversed. Malcolm made a lovely woman and every woman should have the ultimate feminine experience of being a bride! Having been the bride almost 40 years earlier, I was happy to be the bridegroom. The clothes and preparations were a lot less work. As the bride, Malcolm would have to fret about everything from his hair and nails, the dress, the flowers and the bridesmaids. But it would be his day.<br />
<br />
On the subject of bridesmaids, our daughters, Josie and Melinda consented to be their father's bridesmaids and very lovely they looked too. They had no issues with our role reversal. This was due to the fact that Josie's husband, Lance, had come out as a cross-dresser and wore dresses all of the time, and because Ray, Melinda's husband, had been cheating with a younger woman. Melinda was a strong woman and knew how to deal with a erring husband. After threatening to kick him out and take him to the cleaners through the divorce courts, Ray had to accept certain conditions to prevent himself becoming homeless and skint. One of these was for Ray to be dressed in exactly the same way as his mistress, Sadie. As Sadie wore skin-tight leggings, mini skirts, thongs, very high heels and far too much make up, Ray ended up looking ridiculous as well as being very uncomfortable. As a result, none of us women or even the grandchildren, were fazed by the sight of a man in a cream bridal gown and lace veil.<br />
<br />
So, almost 40 years after the original ceremony, the man who had once been the bridegroom glided down the aisle in a gorgeous and extremely feminine dress and I, once the bride and now wearing a man's morning suit, waited for him. The ceremony went well and we went on to the reception.<br />
<br />
Malcolm had given me his gift. A chunky man's wristwatch which I now wore. I thought of my gift to him, which he did not yet have but was going to receive once we were alone in the bridal suite. A strap on dildo and two pairs of fluffy handcuffs. Malcolm would learn tonight that one of his wifely duties was to satisfy his husband in bed and I would also make a real woman of him.Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-1397961224842810062013-02-03T03:05:00.001-08:002013-02-03T03:05:37.053-08:00After women won the vote..........we decided to hold a dinner party. Not the usual dinner party, of course, that would have been dull, but an alternative one.<br />
<br />
The fact of women obtaining the vote had been known about well in advance, of course. The prospect had fuelled much speculation in our household and beyond in what the "new world" would be once women became equal to men. It was said, jokingly, that as the number of women was greater than the number of men, they could vote an all-female government into power and do exactly what they liked.<br />
<br />
There was even talk of a complete reversal between the sexes, with the women working and wearing trousers and the men in skirts minding the house and children.<br />
<br />
It was this last theme that gave me the brainwave to have a dinner party, just amongst the family, but with the diners dressed as members of the opposite gender to their own, just for a glimpse of what might have been.<br />
<br />
I put my idea to my family and, with one exception, they agreed that it might be a jolly wheeze to try it. The date was selected and all preparations made. Unlike a "normal" dinner party, this one would need a lot of extra work and attention to detail.<br />
<br />
Finally, the evening of the dinner party came and the diners came in to take their places. What a sight we made!<br />
<br />
Mama and Papa were the first to make their entrance. Mama was wearing men's evening dress - including trousers - for the first time in her life. She immediately appeared more masculine and commanding. Papa wore a burgundy silk evening gown that left his shoulders bare. The gown was puffed out by voluminous layers of petticoats and it was obvious that he was wearing a corset.<br />
<br />
Next to appear were me - Penelope - and my darling fiance, Algernon. I was dressed in exactly the same way as Mama and with my bobbed hair I made a very boyish looking gentleman. Algy, who topped six feet and had a very masculine physique, was wearing a filmy and clingy red flapper dress, silk evening gloves, silk stockings and high heels.<br />
<br />
Last to appear were my younger brother, Henry, and Harriet, my youngest sister, and the baby of the family, and it was with these youngsters that the change in dress was most startling. Harriet strode in confidently in boys' knickerbockers, a smart velvet jacket and boys' boots. Henry hung back, reluctant to enter, dressed as he was in a girl's white frock with a very sweet pink ribbon at the waist that ended in a large bow at the back, and frilled ankle socks.<br />
<br />
I should add that as well as wearing the outer garments of the opposite gender, everyone also had to wear appropriate underwear. For instance, I wore a pair of Algy's cotton underpants whilst he wore a pair of silk knickers and a chemise. <br />
<br />
Also, although they had not been asked to, the servants also switched clothes, so that our footmen became maids and our maids became footmen. It was jolly nice of them to oblige us in this way and added to the spirit of it all.<br />
<br />
As we took our places, I looked at each of the participants and judged that they all looked exquisite. Although the diners were dressed appropriately, other aspects of their appearance jarred against their clothes. Mama was wearing a ladies' wig to conceal her greying hair, Papa still had his beard and whiskers, I had rather large breasts, which had been impossible to conceal, Algy just looked like a Guard's Officer who had been stuffed into a dress, Harriet had golden ringlets and was constantly giggling, whilst Henry had short hair.<br />
<br />
In short, rather than everyone looking like a man or a woman, we all looked like curious amalgams of both sexes. But as the whole point was not to turn men into women (and vice versa) but to give an image of a possible alternative world where women were dominant, it all worked fabulously.<br />
<br />
Whilst the rest of us found it all a scream, it was clear that Henry was not at all happy. He was sullen and resentful. In babyhood and infancy, he had been a sweet little boy, but now that he was nine he had become insufferably full of himself and contemptuous of girls. He had taken to teasing Harriet mercilessly as she was a "soppy girl and a baby". To now find himself dressed as a "soppy girl" whilst his little sister wore trousers was the biggest humiliation he could imagine, and he was not taking it well.<br />
<br />
To make things worse for him still, Harriet was getting her own back on him, referring to him as "Baby Henrietta" and suggesting that as he was so pretty, he ought to wear hair ribbons. It did not help.<br />
<br />
Henry refused to enter into the spirit of the thing and his mood did put a dampener on the gathering, in spite of our efforts to make a joke out of the whole thing. The final straw for Henry came after dinner, for, whilst the gentlemen retired to allow the ladies to enjoy a smoke and a glass of port, and Harriet was given a ball to play with, Henry was given one of Harriet's dolls. At this, he threw the mother of all tantrums. He threw the doll away violently and began feverishly tearing off his clothes, demanding his usual ones back.<br />
<br />
We ladies decided that this babyish tantrum demanded appropriate punishment. If Henry insisted on acting like a baby, he would be treated like one. Henry was put into nappies and made to wear a girls' baby frock and bonnet and confined to a high chair. Henry soon learned that there were greater humiliations than being dressed as a girl. Harriet teased her "baby sister". Henry so hated the reversal that had taken place between himself and Harriet that he soon begged for mercy!<br />
<br />
We ladies deliberated and decided to be merciful, but only on condition that Henry behaved himself. Henry was relieved of his baby frock and allowed to don his girls' frock. To our astonishment and great satisfaction, Henry became contrite and submissive. He willingly accepted his sister's doll and began playing with it, just like any other girl. As the evening wore on, Henry even became more confident in girls' clothes (although he would have died if any of his chums had seen him) walking through the house with more confidence, as if his new clothes had become natural to him.<br />
<br />
The evening was a great success and it had been a scream to see everybody cross-dressed, but it was a one-off. By the morning, everything was back to normal. The insight I gained into everyone's behaviour was valuable. Everyone, even Henry, eventually accepted their new mode of dress and the behaviours that went with them.<br />
<br />
If this is possible in 1918, when the world is still a man's world, could this glimpse of the future became reality in the future? Only time will tell.Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-63865788154356797362013-01-20T01:51:00.000-08:002013-01-20T01:51:44.716-08:00Into FrilliesAidan was almost oblivious to the other boy frantically circling around him and periodically attempting to land a punch on him. The other boy, Georgie, was big for his age and fast. Several of his blows had connected. But they might as well not have done, for Aidan was not even so much as bruised.<br />
<br />
Several minutes later, Aidan ended the contest by punching his opponent hard in the gut. Georgie doubled over immediately and remained writhing on the floor for another five minutes. Aidan stayed to help him up, but the other boy shook him off angrily. Aidan understood. Georgie did not want pity. Not from the boy who had beaten him effortlessly.<br />
<br />
Aidan went off to get showered and changed. The boxing coach looked after him sadly. Although Aidan was only aged ten, he was huge. He was much bigger and more powerfully built than almost every boy and boys years older than him. He could easily defeat any other boy in this gym. But the coach knew that Aidan would never make a boxer. Pity. If he had the aggression to match his power, he would be unstoppable.<br />
<br />
But there was something about that boy that was off beat. The coach couldn't quite put his finger on it.<br />
<br />
Aidan was walking home. He considered his mandatory boxing lessons a waste of his time. But his father, a would be boxing champion who had never made it, had insisted. The best thing about having to do boxing was the walk home, for it took him past one of his favourite stores. This was Pirouette, a shop that sold ballet outfits and accessories. As he walked past, he couldn't take his eyes off the pink, sparkly ballerina's outfit with it's rigid tutu forming a delicate skirt around it.<br />
<br />
He lingered for a few minutes. Too long, as he realised that a couple of girls from his school were watching him curiously. He recognised them as Sadie Thorpe and Chloe Madden. They were in the same year as him. Chloe gave him a delicate little wave with her hand "Hiya Aidan!" she chirruped "Didn't know you were into ballet!" The girls collapsed with laughter.<br />
<br />
Blushing furiously, Aidan marched away. He thought he heard Chloe call after him, but he ignored her. They didn't understand. How could they? Aidan hurried home to the sanctuary of his room, only to be waylaid by his father who wanted to know how he had got on at the boxing club and attempted to share with him the benefit of his knowledge and experience. Finally, Aidan managed to escape.<br />
<br />
He retreated to his room, which he had to share with one of his older brothers (Aidan was the youngest of three boys), stripped off and went to bed. He lay awake for a long time, thinking about the ballerina's costume and his encounter with the girls.<br />
<br />
Aidan had no idea why he was the way he was. Outwardly, he was a big, strong boy. He was the first boy anyone picked when it came to selecting a rugby or soccer team. But on the inside he was gentle. For some reason, he liked pretty girls' things. It was almost an obsession with him. But he was careful not to to let those feelings show. It would be too shameful. Every day, Aidan had to deal with the conflict within himself, with the self-loathing and shame at how he felt when he saw something as delightfully pretty as that ballerina's dress.<br />
<br />
Aidan was pretty sure he didn't want to become a girl, but he wanted to enjoy the pretty things that girls took for granted. But society still condemned boys who liked feminine things. Perhaps it was his family that were part of the problem. All male, except for his mum obviously, and even mum was not that feminine and only wore a nice dress for church and family socials. The family home was bare of femininity.<br />
<br />
For the next few weeks, Aidan's routine continued as normal, the only exception being that Sadie and Chloe seemed to giggle slightly when they saw him. He was terrified that they had worked out his secret. But at least they hadn't told anyone else. If they had done, it would be round the school by now.<br />
<br />
He was sitting alone in the school library, trying hard to get his homework done. Aidan's brain power unfortunately did not match his muscle power. He found school work hard and seemed to need to do more than the other pupils to improve. He was trying to work through some multiplication questions when, to his consternation, Chloe and Sadie sidled by.<br />
<br />
But, thankfully, they kept on going. They each gave him a little smile as they passed and then were out of sight. Half an hour later, Aidan briefly left his seat to use the bathroom, and spent another half hour on the maths questions before packing up and going home. When he got home, he took off his blazer only to notice something white, with a little hint of lace on it.<br />
<br />
After checking no one else was about, he pulled the item out. It was a pair of girls' knickers, in virginal white, trimmed with delicate white lace and with a pretty pink bow on the front of he waistband. Aidan was overcome with a sudden desire to wear them. He went to his room, undressed, and put them on. They fitted perfectly. A feeling of complete bliss ensued.<br />
<br />
A little later, Aidan took off his new underwear and hid it somewhere safe. He had no doubt that Chloe and Sadie had bequeathed him this small item of femininity and he was grateful for it. Thereafter, he was able to wear his new underwear as and when opportunity presented itself. On the following Sunday, he feigned illness so that he would be excused attendance at church. Aidan was sure that God would forgive him. Whilst the rest of the family was out, Aidan was able to wear his pretty knickers -and nothing else- around the house for a couple of hours.<br />
<br />
A week later, Aidan received the following e-mail:<br />
<br />
"Hi Aidan. We know that you received our pretty little gift and we hope that you are enjoying wearing it. If you want to wear something even more girly, let us know. Your sisters in spirit, Chloe and Sadie"<br />
<br />
Aidan was stunned. Chloe and Sadie knew his secret (or had worked it out). He could, if he wished, try to brazen it out and insist that he was a boy. Or, given that they already knew his secret and seemed willing to help him, he could accept that. Aidan wrestled with the conflict for a few days before deciding to reply to his "sisters in spirit" that he would welcome their further assistance.<br />
<br />
Aidan received a further e-mail inviting him round to Sadie's house on the following Saturday. Aidan thus found himself at Sadie's house, telling his mum that he had gone there to seek help with his homework. <br />
<br />
Sadie and Chloe took him in hand. After getting him to strip, they perfumed him, made him slip on a pair of satin knickers and squeezed him into a fuschia coloured gown. They adorned his throat and wrists with jewellery and put make up on his face. Aidan's large feet were inserted into a pair of high-heeled shoes and the girls insisted that he parade about for them.<br />
<br />
Aidan was a little embarressed at being so dressed before these girls, but his desire to wear the gorgeous clothing outweighed the humiliation. It was very pleasant to feel the swish of skirts against his legs and to wear such lovely jewellery.<br />
<br />
Chloe and Sadie were well pleased, as they applauded as Aidan minced before them in his gown and high heels. Aidan noticed that the girls had made no effort to dress up. They wanted to dress him up.<br />
<br />
Chloe and Sadie henceforth became Aidan's confidantes and allies in his endeavours to indulge himself in feminine finery. There were further dressing up sessions. Sadie's mum had a wardrobe stuffed full of lovely dresses and Aidan ended up wearing all of them. Aidan repaid them by taking care of them at school. After a quiet word with Damian Smart, the current head of the bullies at school, Chloe and Sadie were left alone. Even Damian Smart was not stupid enough to try and take on Aidan.<br />
<br />
After six idyllic weeks, Aidan's world came crashing down. During one of his dress up sessions, in which Aidan was wearing a black sequined gown, Sadie's mum came home unexpectedly and went ballistic. After being ordered to change back into his normal clothes, Sadie's mum marched him home and reported him to his mum. He was sent to his room.<br />
<br />
Mum came to talk to him a little later and Aidan broke down in tears and confessed his desire to feel, to wear, female clothing. Mum took him in her arms, kissed him and told him not to worry. She would see that everything was alright. For the next week, nothing more was said and Aidan went to school as normal. Chloe and Sadie were there. They had been grounded for a month as punishment but that was all.<br />
<br />
On the Monday of the following week, Aidan went down for breakfast as normal, in his school uniform. Mum looked at him and said "You won't be going to school today, Aidan. Once you've eaten your breakfast, go and wait in your room. I'll be up once your dad and brothers had gone".<br />
<br />
Aidan was non-plussed by this, but did as he was told. A little later, Mum came to see him. She was carrying some boxes. She set these down and regarded her son sternly.<br />
<br />
"Now, Aidan. You have been a very deceitful and naughty boy. You've been dressing up in Mrs Thorpe's clothes. You had no right to do that! I know those girls encouraged you, but you are still in the wrong. It took me some time to prepare everything but now it is time for you to be punished".<br />
<br />
Aidan looked at his mother. Although he towered over her and was physically far more powerful, he flinched at the expression on her face. This was not the mum he knew.<br />
<br />
"I've decided to let the punishment fit the crime" mum continued "since you enjoy girls' things so much, you can wear them. All of the time from now on!"<br />
<br />
Aidan was aghast. It was one thing to wear a dress briefly and in the privacy of his home, but for 24 hours? "Mum, please, I can't do that!"<br />
<br />
"Shut up! You will do as you are told". Mum took one of the boxes, the biggest, and opened it up. She took out a white frock that looked big enough to fit Aidan. Aidan was immediately mesmerised by it. It had some lacy bits on the hem and sleeves...<br />
<br />
"Pretty, isn't it?" Mum said with a smile. She laid it down on Aidan's bed. "I'm going downstairs now Aidan. In fifteen minutes time, I expect you to come down, wearing that dress and the other things you will find in those boxes. Understood?"<br />
<br />
Aidan gulped and nodded. Mum left him. Aidan looked through the boxes. There were several pairs of white and very frilly knickers, all in the same style, several pairs of frilled white ankle socks, several chemises with lacy edging and a pair of shiny black mary-janes with a single strap and a buckle.<br />
<br />
Blushing furiously, Aidan got changed into the clothes. Since he had been dressing in girls' stuff for several weeks, getting the stuff on proved less than a challenge than he thought. The only difficulty was that the frock did up at the back and Aidan couldn't reach. He felt comfortable in his new clothes. His body was clothed in soft and delicate fabrics and it felt divine.<br />
<br />
He went downstairs to report to mum, who was delighted by his appearance. She did up his frock for him and handed him a piece of soft fabric, stiffened by a plastic backing. Aidan looked at it dumbly.<br />
<br />
"It's an Alice band" mum explained "Put it on your head sweetie. It'll make you look even prettier". Aidan did so. The Alice band was a light pink colour. It would define him as being feminine.<br />
<br />
"Good. Alright girl, this is what is going to happen from now on. You are going to be my daughter, Amy, for the next three months".<br />
<br />
Three months! thought Aidan.<br />
<br />
"During that time you are going to be a pretty and obedient little lady. What are you going to be?"<br />
<br />
"A pretty and obedient little lady" Aidan repeated dully, hardly believing what he was saying.<br />
<br />
"That's right. And if you are not, you will be punished. You will do whatever I say and do it immediately. Is that clear Amy?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, mum".<br />
<br />
"You will not be going to school for those three months. I will teach you here. Then, when your schoolwork is done, you will help me around the house. A big, strong girl like you can make herself useful". Mum took a lacy pinny down from a hanger on the door "This is your pinny and you will wear it at all times in the house except when you are doing schoolwork or put to bed. By the way, on the subject of beds, as a girl it is no longer appropriate to share with your brother. He will be moved elsewhere and you will have the room to yourself. Now, put on the pinny and then go and bring me all of the clothes that you used to wear, and be quick about it girl!"<br />
<br />
As if in a daze, Aidan put on his pinny and added another hallmark of femininity to his ensemble. He brought down his boys' clothes, down to the last sock. Mum took these from him and locked them away in a cupboard. The message was unmistakable. Girls' clothes only from now on.<br />
<br />
Aidan was then ordered to remove his pinny and sit down to do schoolwork. Aidan was aware only of the lovely sensations generated by the clothing and underwear he wore against his skin. The whiteness of his clothing and the fact that he could see frills everywhere he looked made him calm and confident, strangely.<br />
<br />
After stumbling through two hours of geography, Aidan was allowed a short break. He decided to use this time to take a peek at himself in full length mirror. He made an incongruous sight. The quality of the clothes was delicious, from the cute little ankle socks and shiny shoes to the pure white and lacy frock. All so very girlish. Aidan looked somewhat like a small girl, but the image jarred beyond the pretty clothes. Aidan, with his big-boned physique, his trunk-like legs and his short cropped hair, looked exactly like a big boy who had been made to dress as a little girl. He looked ridiculous.<br />
<br />
Tears welled up in Aidan's eyes at this knowledge. Everyone who saw him would laugh at him! And what about his father and brothers? How would they react when they saw him dressed like this?<br />
<br />
Aidan returned to his schoolwork, which at least allowed him to take his mind off his present condition. With only a break for lunch, mum kept him hard at it until 3 pm. Aidan was then made to put on his pinny and help mum in the kitchen. As he prepared vegetables under his mother's instruction, Aidan kept glancing at the clock, for his father and brothers would be home from work and school at 4 pm.<br />
<br />
At 4.13, the three of them came flooding in. Their jaws dropped at the sight of Aidan. When he had recovered from the shock, Dad said "What's all this? What's Aidan doing in a dress?"<br />
<br />
"I'll explain later" mum said firmly "Now go and sit down at the dinner table".<br />
<br />
Dad knew better than to argue with his wife. Although he was the breadwinner and although he acted like the alpha male, his wife wore the trousers. Shaking his head, he and Aidan's brothers went to sit down.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Aidan, still wearing his pinny, had to help serve dinner. Dinner was eaten in silence on this occasion, with curious glances being cast in Aidan's direction. Aidan helped clear away and wash up and was then sent to his room. He sat on his bed trembling. He could hear raised voices below for over an hour. And then silence.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">There was a knock at the door. It was Robbie, Aidan's elder brother. Unlike Aidan, he was small, wiry and freckled. "Mum said I had to knock when entering a girl's room" he explained "And I've got to move out and bunk with Larry. He's not very happy about it".</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"I'm sorry" said Aidan timidly.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"Mum tells me you actually like all this frilly, lacy stuff. Not my scene, Aidan, sorry Amy, but if that's what you like, I'm ok with it. You actually look very nice...I probably shouldn't have said that".</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
Clearly embarressed by the whole situation, Robbie hurriedly got all of his bedding and clothes together and left.<br />
<br />
Aidan sat alone in his room, suddenly missing his brother. Robbie was more fun to be with than either his father or his eldest brother. Both were working men, men's men. They would not be nearly as understanding as Robbie had been just now.<br />
<br />
Aidan lay on his bed for a few hours until mum came to him with another box. Inside it was a white silky nightdress. Aidan had to put it on and then was put to bed earlier than was usual. But Aidan didn't mind. His brain was buzzing with the exquisite sensations of his body being clad in silk. He drifted off to sleep in a state of ecstasy.<br />
<br />
The first week as Amy was difficult. Not just for Aidan but for the whole family. His father and Larry would not accept the situation and regarded Aidan with a barely concealed contempt, muttering "Blooming great sissy" whenever they encountered their new daughter and sister. Robbie was kinder and even started calling Aidan "Sis".<br />
<br />
At the end of the first week, mum went out and brought back some rolls of material and other dressmaking paraphenalia. Aidan, wrestling with maths again and the fact that his skirt kept riding up to reveal his underwear, looked at her in wonder.<br />
<br />
Mum held up some pink fabric "I'm going to teach you how to make your ballet dress!". And she did. Aidan had to learn how to size and cut pieces of cloth, sew them together and to sew sequins on. It was hard and painstaking work and took over a week to do. Aidan's fingers were in pain and he dreaded the sessions when he had to sew. The tutu was the most difficult and delicate creation, but Aidan managed it.<br />
<br />
Aidan got a real sense of achievement when he put the dress on for the first time. He had created this beautiful garment. It glittered and sparkled delightfully. Mum clapped happily "You look adorable. My girl, the ballerina!"<br />
<br />
Mum handed Aidan a pair of pink satin pumps "These cost a lot of money, so you look after them Amy. Now, we'll get you booked in for ballet lessons".<br />
<br />
Aidan was perturbed by this. Not only would he have to attend ballet classes as a girl pupil, rather than a boy, but he would have to go outside. As Amy. The prospect terrified him. He had to sit down><br />
<br />
Mum wasted no time and it was on the following evening that Aidan was to attend his first ballet lesson. Mum escorted him outside for the first time since he had had to wear a frock on a permanent basis. Passers by looked at him curiously. Aidan was very scared, but nothing happened.<br />
<br />
The ballet mistress, Miss Forster, who had had a distinguished career in ballet until age forced her to become a teacher, was upper crust but sensible and understanding. However, the situation was highly unusual.<br />
<br />
"In all my years, I have never had a boy coming to lessons as a girl. I will have to explain the situation to my pupils. If they decide that...Amy's attendance will be an issue for them, then I am afraid I will have to respect that and Amy will not be able to attend"<br />
<br />
Miss Forster came back a little later "Some of the girls are not very happy about it, but...welcome to ballet school Amy".<br />
<br />
Aidan had to endure an initial outburst of laughter when he appeared amongst the other pupils in his sparkly costume but that was all. He concentrated on learning what he could although his size was an issue.<br />
<br />
For the most part, the girls in the class seemed to accept him as one of their own, although a few of the snootier girls blanked him completely or snorted in contempt. There were only three actual boys in the class. Two of them seemed friendly enough, but other, a teenager called Syd was rather too friendly with some of the girls. Aidan witnessed him touching girls for longer than was strictly necessary during the routines and the victims didn't like it.<br />
<br />
But the lesson was a success from Aidan's point of view. He had been accepted, as a girl, and now had an outlet away from home. He preferred it to boxing. He was beginning to learn that life as a girl was not so bad.<br />
<br />
A few weeks later, Aidan was settling in as Amy both at home and in the ballet classes. Mum loved the experience of having a daughter. She was always buying Aidan little trinkets of jewellery to adorn his body or hair. As Aidan's hair grew, mum started doing things with it like shampooing it, putting it in curlers and putting things in it like ribbons, hair slides and Alice bands. Aidan had to put scent on his body so that he not only looked feminine but smelt feminine too.<br />
<br />
Robbie was also happy with having a kid sister, but Aidan's father and other brother were still not happy about it. They virtually ignored Aidan and pretended he did not exist, but as they were out most of the time, either at work or down the pub, this was less of a problem. The only problem was Syd at ballet school. He was still touching some of the girls up and Miss Forster didn't seem to notice.<br />
<br />
Some of the girls decided to do something about him and enlisted Aidan's help. His asset remained that he was bigger than stronger than any boy there. They had wanted him to beat Syd up, but this Aidan refused to do. Violence was not the answer. A little cunning, and the loan of a ballet outfit, was.<br />
<br />
In the very next lesson, there was a new girl, Roberta. She was small and slim and freckly, with long blonde hair. As anticipated, Syd soon made a beeline for her and began fondling her bottom "Alright there, darlin'?" Syd whispered in her ear lasciviously.<br />
<br />
"Yeah, I am thanks mate, but if you don't take your hand off my arse in the next ten seconds I'm gonna clobber you into the middle of next week!" said Roberta in a deep male voice. Syd leapt back, startled "You're a bloke!"<br />
<br />
Robbie removed his wig "Guilty as charged! You want to be more careful who you touch up you little pervert". There were howls of laughter from all of the girls present. Syd went a deep red and bolted for the exit, thoroughly humiliated.<br />
<br />
"That should sort him out" said Sophie, one of the older girls "Thanks a bunch for your help Robbie". She gave him a light peck on the cheek.<br />
<br />
Blushing slightly, Robbie said "Glad to be of help to see that perv off, but the real hero, or rather heroine, is Amy. This was all her idea"<br />
<br />
Aidan suddenly found himself surrounded by all of the girls, all dispensing hugs and kisses on him, even the ones who had initially opposed his admission. He had been fully accepted as one of the girls now.<br />
<br />
Sophie was speaking with Robbie. The two seemed to have developed an attraction to each other "You make a very nice ballerina, Robbie, are you sure you don't want to keep the outfit?"<br />
<br />
"Quite sure" said Robbie, grinning "One girl in our family is enough. I'll bring the outfit round to your house later".<br />
<br />
"Oh, there's no need....oh, I see" said Sophie, reddening "See you later, Robbie" she said sweetly.<br />
<br />
Aidan sidled up to his brother "Thanks for helping me. It was very kind of you to agree to dress up like that. I know that you're not into girl stuff but.."<br />
<br />
To Aidan's surprise, Robbie leant over and gave him a kiss on the cheek "You're my little sister, course I'll look out for you". Aidan almost fainted. Robbie really did now regard him as his sister.<br />
<br />
It was morning and Aidan stirred. His room lacked the feminine touch. Perhaps Dad could be persuaded to decorate it so it was more like a girl's room. Aidan would like that very much. Over the last weeks even his father and older brother had accepted him as Amy and even took an interest in his doings. He had knitted them both some nice scarves.<br />
<br />
There was a light knock and mum came in "Come on Aidan, time to get up! You've got to go to school today!"<br />
<br />
What!? In almost three months, his mother had not once called him by his given male name and as for school....<br />
<br />
Mum dumped a pile of clothes on Aidan's bed. It was all of the boys' clothes he had had to hand over on his first day in his new girlish existence. "Your punishment is over, Aidan, so you can go back to being a boy".<br />
<br />
Aidan realised that it must have been three months to the day since he had become Amy. It had passed so quickly and so much had happened. He was not only used to being dressed and treated as a girl but he was even starting to think like one. His life now was perfect. Everyone accepted him as Amy. He looked at the pile of boys' clothes. He didn't want to wear them. Ever again. He burst into tears. Mum rushed towards him and put her arms around him.<br />
<br />
"I don't want to go back to being Aidan, mum, I want to be Amy!"<br />
<br />
Mum kissed him "Then you can be Amy, the loveliest and sweetest daughter any mother could hope to have! I'll just get rid of these boys' things......"<br />
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<br />Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-74279255756149894182013-01-13T11:29:00.002-08:002013-01-13T11:29:28.620-08:00A Life in SkirtsI live alone and quietly now. Although I am known to the world as Mr James Parsons and aged 75, I spend most of my time dressed as a woman. After what seems to be a lifetime spent in skirts, I now find feminine attire more natural to me.<br />
<br />
I was born as a male, in the summer of 1897. As would have been common in those bygone days, I spent my early years in petticoats before being "breeched" at the age of six and then being allowed to graduate to trousers. I felt a little sorry for girls, who had to continue in skirts and petticoats their entire lives. It was much better to be a boy in those days.<br />
<br />
I spent much of my childhood in the company of my mother. She was a short, stocky woman, not intellectually clever, but quick witted, good with her hands and a very sensible woman. Under her guidance, my early childhood was idyllic.<br />
<br />
As for my father, I barely saw him and, I am sorry to say, I barely remember him. He was scarcely ever home and even when he was he seemed to be so preoccupied with his business that he seemed not to know that he had a wife and son. I was told that he worked "for the government" and that I should not bother him unduly or burden him with questions about his occupation.<br />
<br />
I continued to flourish. I was a bright and clever boy and excelled at all subjects, but most especially languages for which, I was told by my form master, I had a natural gift. French, German and Latin all came easily to me. Great things were expected of me in the future.<br />
<br />
Shortly after my thirteenth birthday, however, something happened that was to change my life forever. Something terrible. My father had disappeared. I was never to see him again. I remember the day well. I rushed home to show mother my report card - which showed I was an exceptionally talented pupil - to find the house in turmoil. There were well-dressed men searching through everything and mother's eyes were red-rimmed. She clutched me possessively.<br />
<br />
To this day, I do not know what had happened to my father, but it seemed that the government he had been working for now regarded him as some sort of traitor. Mother was taken away for a while and questioned but as she knew nothing of my father's business, she was soon released.<br />
<br />
When Father disappeared, so did the income on which we relied on. The house we had been living in belonged to the government and so we were required to leave it as soon as we had made alternative arrangements. Mother scraped enough money together for her to open a shop and we moved far away.<br />
<br />
We had somewhere to live and by means of the shop we had an income, but we had gone down in the world. Instead of the large comfortable house we had previously enjoyed, we now lived above the shop in a few small, barely furnished rooms. My education, I learnt, had been heavily subsidised by the state due to my father. That subsidy was of course stopped and so I had to attend the local school instead. The staff and facilities there were a far cry from my last school. Moreover, impoverished as we now were, my prospects were far less promising than they had once been.<br />
<br />
To my distress, Mother refused to talk about my father. It had become a forbidden subject. She seemed to have put him out of her mind entirely. Strong-willed and determined to build a life for herself and me, she quickly opened "Parson's Fashion Emporium". Mother was very good at making and repairing clothes and she was also an excellent saleswoman. As we had moved into a working class district, the shop catered for the working class woman. The display cases were filled with jackets, skirts, corsets, cotton underwear, hats, shoes and gloves.<br />
<br />
The early days were difficult as the shop struggled to build up a clientele. Originally, it had been intended that mother would employ a girl to help her, but this proved to be beyond her means and to my surprise one Saturday morning she came into my room and ordered me out of bed.<br />
<br />
"Come on please James, I need you up!"<br />
<br />
Blearily, I stirred and rubbed my eyes and then jumped out of bed. Usually, I was allowed to lie in for as long as I wanted on a Saturday. I liked Saturdays as it was pocket money day. I got dressed whilst mother made me breakfast. During breakfast, mother said to me.<br />
<br />
"James, I going to need your help in the shop today".<br />
<br />
I wasn't happy about this. I was supposed to be meeting my friends later. It must have shown in my body language for mother said "Don't get all huffy with me, young man. I've worked seventy hours this week already. I need a break. So, I'm going to train you up to mind the shop when I need you to. Alright?"<br />
<br />
It certainly wasn't alright, but I knew better than to argue with my mother. I always lost.<br />
<br />
"Good" mother said, as she sensed I wasn't going to offer any resistance "Once you've finished your breakfast, come to my room". She got up and left. When I joined her in her room fifteen minutes later, I was startled to see a pile of clothes on her bed. They were clearly items of female clothing, but clearly not intended for use by my mother.<br />
<br />
Mother looked at me speculatively to gauge my reaction "I'm afraid you will have to wear these" she said, indicating the bundle of clothes "It is not appropriate to have a boy involved in running a women's fashion emporium, so we will circumvent that issue by disguising you as a girl".<br />
<br />
I was aghast. Had my mother gone mad? Me pass myself off as a girl? Impossible. I told mother that her idea was silly and that I wouldn't go along with it.<br />
<br />
"Very well, James. If you want to be difficult, rather than helpful, that is your decision. But you will get no more pocket money from me! I cannot afford it any longer, unless you work for it in the shop. You may go". she said frostily.<br />
<br />
But I couldn't go. Not with mother so obviously displeased with me. I couldn't go out with my friends and enjoy myself knowing all the time that I would have to return home and face her in a bad mood. Besides, without my pocket money, I would have no money to spend.<br />
<br />
I looked at the pile of girls' things on the bed. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was have to wear them. I couldn't think of anything more humiliating. But I couldn't just leave things like this.<br />
<br />
Mother looked at me stonily "I said you can go. Are you deaf as well as obstinate?"<br />
<br />
"Mother" I said tentatively "I want to help you, I really do, but you must see that this idea won't work. I'm not a girl. I can't pass for a girl!"<br />
<br />
Mother regarded me and a glint came into her eyes "How about a bet then? If you let me dress you up in those things and you don't look like a girl, we'll forget the whole thing and I'll give you your pocket money as normal. But, if you do look like a girl, then you will agree to co-operate with me and work in the shop and you'll still get your pocket money. How about it?"<br />
<br />
I considered the proposal and it seemed reasonable. If, as seemed likely, the disguise was a failure I would have pleased mother for trying and could go out with a lighter heart. So I agreed.<br />
<br />
After stripping off my normal boys' clothes, mother gave me a pair of white cotton bloomers to wear. These weren't so very different from my male underwear except for the ruffled edging and the knowledge that this was female underwear. Then she spun me round and laced me up into one of her old corsets.<br />
<br />
All females of that period had to wear a corset. Girls had to wear them almost from infancy onwards. One could tell when a girl or woman was corsetted. The outline and the shape created by it were unmistakeable. So, as I was to pose as a girl, I had to wear one too. Mother laced me tightly and I felt my waist contract to a tiny dimension. I realised that trapped in the corset, things I was used to do like running and bending over would be next to impossible.<br />
<br />
Mother next ran some coarse woollen stockings up my legs and attached these to the corset. They itched maddeningly but it was just like wearing extra long socks. Mother bade me to put on a plain white blouse, which I did with difficulty as the buttons did up the wrong way. Mother then got me to step into a long black skirt and layers of cotton petticoats that fell almost to my feet. Mother then sat me down on the bed and put a pair of black boots on my feet, mercifully with a very small heel.<br />
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Whilst still sitting on the bed, mother put a long black wig on me (for my own hair had been cropped short recently) and arranged it around my face. Then she held up a hand mirror so that I could see the new me.<br />
<br />
The change was startling. With just a change of clothes and a wig, I did look like a girl. "There we are. I win the bet!" mother said triumphantly. I had to agree. I felt very awkward and silly in my new clothes and hair. Mother got me to walk around for a while to get used to it all and coached me in how to walk, how to sit and how to handle my long skirts.<br />
<br />
I didn't much like the experience of suddenly becoming a girl. My clothes were uncomfortable and cumbersome and I yearned for my normal clobber. It was downright humiliating for a boy to find himself in petticoats and corsets.<br />
<br />
Mother sensed my feelings "It'll be hard for you at first" she said soothingly "But it will get better, I promise and you'll be used to it before you know it. Now, come, I need to show you how to run the shop".<br />
<br />
Mother showed me. I was bright and clever and picked everything up quickly. Within a few weekends, mother was confident that she could leave me to mind the shop for a few hours whilst she had a rest. I was also getting used to being a girl. Wearing corsets and skirts became natural for me, especially as mother had insisted on my wearing my outfit over the whole weekend. I was even given a girl's name - Polly - that I had to answer to.<br />
<br />
Over time, embellishments were made to enhance my feminine appearance. Small trinkets of jewellery were added, my fingernails were varnished and I wore a light make up to soften and feminise my features. My clothes were also upgraded. I wore silk stockings instead of woollen ones and the change was heavenly. My blouse was now also silk, as were my petticoats, and my skirt was a smartly tailored one. I made an elegant young lady shop assistant and received compliments on my appearance.<br />
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My existence as Polly lasted for a period of eighteen months. During the week, I was James and went to school as normal and did boy things but at weekends I became Polly and did girl things. Under my mother's tutelage, I learnt much about feminine deportment, fashion and even how to apply make up. These, as it turned out, were invaluable lessons for my future career.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, the shop prospered. With me to help, mother had time to create some gorgeous lingerie and dresses for higher class clients. These garments were an instant success and soon the shop was doing well enough for mother to employ two real girls to help her. Polly was no longer needed. Furthermore, mother was able to rent us a house in a better district. <br />
<br />
I reverted to my whole life as a boy with mixed feelings for I had found that life as a part-time girl was actually quite pleasant. I missed the rigidity and security of corsets and the other pretty, fussy things that went with being a girl. But, at the end of the day I was a boy who was about to become a man.<br />
<br />
When I left school, I was no longer certain what I was going to do. University was not an option as we could not afford it. To my surprise, mother suggested that I come back to work for her. Not as Polly, but as her under-manager so that I could take over the business as a man one day. So, for a while, I supervised the girls and learnt what I could from mother about accounts and stock ordering.<br />
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My life was then interrupted by the Great War in 1914. Aged 17, like most young men, I wanted at once to rush to the nearest recruiting office and join up. Mother, fearing that I would share the same fate as my all but forgotten father, begged me not to. I heeded her, but could not avoid being conscripted in mid 1916.<br />
<br />
After basic training as an infantry soldier, I fully expected to be posted to the front and I also fully expected to become a casualty before long, judging from what I had heard about conditions in the trenches. In our last week before being shipped off, one of the lads had put together a concert party for the benefit of the troops and asked me to take part. I played a female part of course and was fully dressed up as a lady of the period. As I had been a "lady" before, my performance was very convincing and I got rapturous applause from the audience.<br />
<br />
The following day, to my surprise, I was summoned to the Commanding Officer's Office. With the CO was another gentleman in civilian dress, who was introduced as Major Forbes. It was Forbes who did the talking whilst the CO listened passively.<br />
<br />
Forbes started by saying how impressive my performance had been the night before. I made a very attractive and convincing woman. This is what had drawn his attention to me apparently. He had then looked at my service record, which was sparse admittedly at this stage in my military career, but did highlight that I could speak French and German tolerably well. Forbes tested me on both languages. I was a little rusty, but acquitted myself well.<br />
<br />
Forbes explained that he worked for MI6, an military intelligence unit whose job it was was to procure information from the enemy. My language skills alone were of interest but my ability to impersonate a woman was of even greater interest. They had tried to infiltrate the German military with men, with limited success. Using a real woman was unthinkable at that time. Women were delicate and fragile creatures, quite unsuited to the work of spying. I wished Forbes could have met my mother. It might have changed his opinion.<br />
<br />
Anyway, the plan was for me to join MI6, go to Germany incognito as a lady and acquire military secrets. I would be commissioned as a Second Lieutenant, a big promotion, with enhanced pay. It was probably certain death, I decided, but then so was going to the front line and at least spying would be more interesting, so I accepted.<br />
<br />
Weeks of more training followed, not just in fields like cryptology, radio signalling and languages, but feminine fields such as sewing, deportment, typing and voice training. It was vitally important that I not only look like a woman but sounded like one. <br />
<br />
I was dressed up in a very smart jacket, skirt, hat and all of the other accessories and wore silk lingerie and corsetry underneath it all. I was of course no longer embaressed by my attire. In fact, I rather enjoyed it. I made my way to Berlin without difficulty, and under my cover got a job as a stenographer in an army base. As a civilian employee, I did not have to bunk with other women at least which made things easier.<br />
<br />
I spent three months there and obtained a good deal of useful information about troop movements and other data. No one twigged that I was anything other than a young German woman Stenographer. It would have been unwise to have kept up the pretence any longer, for the German authorities were tightening up security and were becoming aware that someone at the base must be leaking information.<br />
<br />
I rapidly switched identities and moved to another city. Obtaining a job as a waitress in a top class hotel, which top brass of the German military frequented, I eventually became on good terms with an elderly German General and stole his military secrets. The General was a sweet man, buying me jewellery, lingerie and expensive clothes. I wore all of these for him and became to all intents and purposes his girlfriend. The General was too old to try anything with me. As far as he was concerned I was just a pretty, dumb waitress who could be made to look fabulous in a nice frock.<br />
<br />
Anyway, once the offensive that he was in charge of failed (thanks to me leaking the intelligence back to Blightly), a furious Kaiser sacked him and that was the last I saw of him. I kept the presents though and moved again, getting another job in another hotel and under a different identity. <br />
<br />
Having to live as a woman twenty four seven, with the added pressure that any slip could be fatal, for I would be shot as a spy if detected, became entirely natural now. Femininity was now my profession and I was splendid at it. Being more careful not to get involved in any relationships, I simply lifted whatever information the Generals left lying around. As a Chambermaid, dressed in a very cute uniform with a frilly pinny, this was absurdly easy to do.<br />
<br />
There were disadvantages to posing as a woman. Naturally, the men assumed I was one and treated me like one. I had my bottom fondled or slapped on a number of occasions, or ended up on a man's knee and other indignities but the men were less of a problem than other women,which whom I had to spend a lot of time and be friendly with, but thankfully none of them seemed to question my gender. But I was always more nervous around real women, who might sense that I was not in fact a member of their sex.<br />
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Partly thanks to my efforts, the Germans were defeated in 1918 and I was able to return to England for the first time in over two years. Since, MI6 no longer had any use for my talents as a female impersonator, I was discharged. But I found that simply reverting to my pre war existence as a male was not possible after more than two years living as a woman.<br />
<br />
I returned to my mother's shop, which was thriving, and after a long conversation with her about my decision to continue to live as a woman, I went back to the shop floor as one of the girls. The other girls were made aware of my true identity and were very supportive. I spent twenty years of happiness working for my mother as a lady shop assistant and spending our spare time as mother and daughter. I had my own extensive wardrobe with a small section for men's clothing for the times when I had to assume my real identity.<br />
<br />
War interrupted my life again in 1939. This time, the war effort had no need of me to spy for them as an imitation woman as times and attitudes had changed and real women were sent out into the field in this war. However, my language skills and previous spying experience were still of use and I worked for MI6 once again decoding communications traffic from the German High Command. My only regret that I was required during this war to re-assume my male attire and identity in order to do the work. This I did reluctantly for King and Country though I was glad when the war finally ended and I was able to resume my female persona.<br />
<br />
My mother died just after the end of the war, leaving her emporium to me. I ran it as the lady owner for another fifteen years before selling it and retiring on the proceeds. When I think back over my past life, I am grateful that I was able to spend most of it in skirts.<br />
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<br />Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-51707415495828750062013-01-06T08:17:00.004-08:002013-01-06T08:17:57.631-08:00Paladins & PrincessesPaladins & Princesses - Redefining masculinity in the 21st Century - an article by Simon and Tilda Mason.<br />
<br />
As mankind progresses further into the 21st Century, it is hard to avoid the fact that as women have completely redefined their roles and status over the last century, the role and status of men has never been more uncertain. Men, it has often been said, are in crisis. They are failing at school, they are losing their jobs and their status as breadwinners and the value of the male sex within society is questionable. In an age where women can earn their own living, support a family and even have children without needing to involve a man at all, the status of men is under threat.<br />
<br />
Men in general are aware of all this, but most stay silent. There are, however, exceptions and the object of this article is to look at two of these groups. Neither of them, we should say, are anti-women in the way that many new male rights groups are. Both the groups being examined are very different from each other, as you will see.<br />
<br />
I (Tilda) travelled to a private estate in Texas and met a man who full titles and names are as follows: Sir Maximillian Plantagenet, Grand Master and Rector of the Most Holy Order of the Sacred Cross. He graciously allowed me to call him Sir Max during my stay with his Order.<br />
<br />
"Sir Max" is actually a Texas Oil billionnaire. He has been married and divorced six times and each of his former wives has left with a six figure fortune. The failure of his marriages has lead Sir Max to examine his own personality and spirituality. He found these to be lacking and this lead him to setting up the Order.<br />
<br />
The setting for the Order is one of the most impressive sights I have ever seen, for Sir Max designed, commissioned and built a massive medieval castle out of authentic medieval stone that was shipped over from Great Britain. "Camelot" (for that is the name Sir Max selected for the resulting edifice) is like a fairy tale palace. Stepping into it was like time travelling back into the middle ages.<br />
<br />
There is no modern technology here. Everything is done as it would have been done in medieval times. The people who live in this fabricated throw back world are seperated by class and gender. At the top are Sir Max and his knights, all men aged between about 20 and 60, who spend most of their time practising swordplay and jousting, hunting or praying. Then there are artisans, merchants and servants who provide the infrastructure for this make believe world. Then there are the women who are mainly of two types - ladies who prance about in expensive dresses and steepled hats - and menial servants who make beds, prepare meals and do the laundry. Needless to say, without the modern labour saving devices available in our century, many tasks are time consuming and back breaking.<br />
<br />
As a female guest, I was to be a lady, rather than a servant. I had to exchange my 21st Century clothes and accessories for some linen undergarments, a silk dress and a high steepled hat. My outfit made me appear more feminine, which I suppose was the point, and it was comfortable to wear. I then spent a week at the court of Sir Max. I took part in a hunt, medieval banquets, dances and watched the knights joust. It was all somewhat enjoyable, but the knights seemed to be having more fun. <br />
<br />
The knights and, indeed, all men, were very deferential and courteous towards any woman. When I entered a room, all men present bowed to me and kissed my hand. At mealtimes, I was "looked after" by a solicitous young knight who would carve my beef for me and serve me dishes. But at the same time, I found it all demeaning. In this world, women were given respect and courtesy, but no say in how things were run here.<br />
<br />
That was all decided by the Order, who met in secret at regular intervals. As only men could be knights of the Order, women were of course excluded. When I interviewed Sir Max, he explained to me that the Order's focus was on male bonding and spirituality. Men needed to go back to a simpler time to reconnect with masculine values that had been blurred in recent years.<br />
<br />
What about the women? I asked. Sir Max said that women needed to go back to traditional feminine values, but that his Order was not the place for this. I was not sorry when the time came for me to hang up my steepled hat and return to the real world. Sir Max's "vision" of masculinity is too narrow and does little for women.<br />
<br />
More attractive is a new movement, Princesses, which admittedly does not sound like having anything to do with men but which was founded by one. My husband, Simon, went along to take a look at them.<br />
<br />
I (Simon) contacted the founder of Princesses, Roland Forsythe, who is now known as Rosalyn. Rosalyn was a middle-aged man who wore an extravagent purple evening dress and expensive looking jewellery. His hair, dyed a rich blonde, fell to his waist, and he was fully made up. He insisted on my kissing his hand. Each finger, I noted, was adorned with a ring, and the nails were varnished a deep red colour. Rosalyn looked every inch a woman.<br />
<br />
Rosalyn reminded me of the condition he had laid on giving me an interview and allowing me access to his organisation. Tilda had helped denude my limbs and chest and so it only remained for me to struggle into the feminine outfit I had brought with me, a knee length black skirt, cream blouse and matching jacket along with all the necessary underwear, accessories and shoes. The make up and wig were the hardest items to put on but I managed it and tottered out en femme.<br />
<br />
Rosalyn complimented me on my new appearance. I felt very silly and was regretting agreeing to the condition. He explained that he had founded Princesses based on his own experience and thoughts on the "gender quake" that had been going on for the last 50 or so years. <br />
<br />
Beginning life as a traditional male born in the early fifties, Roland had had a good job, a good marriage and children. He had been the breadwinner and patriarch without question. Then, in the nineties, he had lost his job in the recession. His wife managed to find a job and they effectively switched traditional gender roles. After 30 or so years as top dog, Roland found this hard to take at first and he came close to having a mental breakdown.<br />
<br />
Then, having time on his hands, Roland networked with other men in the same position as him and he conducted research into the genderquake. What he found transformed his thinking. It was clear that women represented the future leaders of society. Every statistic he had looked at on the subject of male and female performance supported this conclusion. Men had lost the battle of the sexes and had to live with the consequences of their defeat at the hands of the stronger sex.<br />
<br />
A man's place, Roland concluded, was in the home, supporting his wife whilst she built and consolidated her career. Not only that, but men should give up obsolete notions of masculinity and embrace femininity as the future. Roland took the drastic step of replacing his entire wardrobe with feminine finery. He took housework and attention to his personal feminine presentation very seriously. Even Roland found it humiliating to dress in women's underwear and clothes at first, but his wife was very supportive and shares his vision.<br />
<br />
Princesses exists across the USA to help men who are struggling in a world that is becoming increasingly female-dominated (in line with Roland's predictions) to not only get in touch with their feminine side but to take on a traditionally female persona and role in order to support women. The movement is small but growing steadily.<br />
<br />
Rosalyn, who looked very natural and comfortable in her outfit (as opposed to me who found it very difficult to even walk with any confidence), took me to a meeting of a local Princesses. There were about a dozen men there, most of them dressed as women in a very over the top way. There was one man who stood out precisely because he was still dressed as a man. He was, Rosalyn explained, a newbie. A first time attendee who wanted to see what the movement was about but this attendee looked extremely uncomfortable in the midst of all the cross-dressed men. Perhaps his wife had made him come.<br />
<br />
There were also some women present, who had come along to support their men. The meeting consisted of a cookery lesson (Salmon Mousse). Then a member who had designed his own dress for a social modelled it for the benefit of the group to applause. Rosalyn then gave a talk entitled "The future of masculinity" which was in essence what he had explained to me earlier. Then the group retired to the bar for social chit chat and gossip.<br />
<br />
I looked around the bar at men dressed in evening gowns and cocktail dresses, wearing rather too much make up and perfume, and teetering on high heels and wondered if this was really the future of masculinity. Have men fallen so far that they must basically become women? Speaking personally, it was not a future I wanted for myself or my sons. I had to leave early, as my heels were killing me.<br />
<br />
Having seen two very different re-definitions of masculinity, the future course of masculinity in the 21st Century will probably not be quite as extreme as the visions portrayed by the two groups, but what it will be, in an ever changing world, is anyone's guess.<br />
<br />
<br />Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-34036129573101723622013-01-04T08:33:00.002-08:002013-01-04T08:33:31.344-08:00Mistress ZIt was no good. No matter how often I added the figures up on my snazzy spreadsheet, there was no way I could make them more positive. I was slowly but surely sinking into a morass of debt.<br />
<br />
Poverty, or rather, a constant cash flow problem was the bane of all university students. I had accepted this when I had accepted a place at one of the most prestigious universities in the country, but the reality of it was finally hitting me in the face. Again, and again, and again.<br />
<br />
What made it all the worse was that I was surrounded by other students who had been fortunate enough to be born into wealthy families. They swanned around in designer clothes, drove around in posh cars and were out socialising every night. I, born into a poor but honest family, had only my student grant to rely on. And it simply wasn't enough.<br />
<br />
My best friend, Emma, noticed my depressed mood. Emma and I were both studying law, we had both come from less well to do families and had had to win scholarships to get into the schools to get the grades that entitled us to be here. We had met at a fresher and we had clicked instantly. Since my name was Emily and we spent almost all our spare time together, our classmates dubbed us collectively as the "Emms", though of late Emma had been oddly absent and was being evasive about where she had been and what she had been up to.<br />
<br />
Emma sat down beside me and gave me a big friendly hug "What's up Emm? You've been really down". I twisted my laptop towards her to show her the breakdown of my disastrous finances "I don't know what to do Emm" I said, my tone one of despair "I'm trying not to spend money but I'm still broke! And I still have to find money for textbooks and study materials. Where's that going to come from? There's nothing else for it, I'll have to get a part-time job. Waitressing or bar work".<br />
<br />
Emm shook her head slowly "You'd have to give up a lot of your time for being paid peanuts. Not worth it, seriously".<br />
<br />
I had to agree, but there was something that was bugging me. Six weeks ago, Emma had been as skint as I was. Since then, Emma was wearing designer clothes and had not only bought all the books on her reading list but had purchased some others that weren't. She must have spent hundreds, if not thousands of pounds recently. I turned to her and asked "How do you manage, Emm".<br />
<br />
Emma seemed to have anticipated the question. She looked around to check that no-one was within earshot and whispered "I got a job. I only have to work twelve hours a week and the money is unbelievable. The nature of the work is a bit unusual though".<br />
<br />
I asked Emma to tell me more. And she did. In great detail. It sounded like the ideal solution to my financial woes and, even better, Emma promised to put me in contact with her boss, a woman known only to Emma as Mistress X.<br />
<br />
Three days later I got a frantic call from Emma "I've told Mistress X about you and she wants to see you right away!". "Emm" I protested "I've a seminar in ten minutes!". "Do you want the job or not? Meet me at the the Student Bar. Mistress X doesn't like to to kept waiting!" Emma hung up.<br />
<br />
Sighing, I trudged over to the Bar. Emma was sat outside, in a gleaming red convertable "Hop in!" she said simply. I had barely got in when Emm put her foot down and the car sped away. She was driving like a maniac, swearing when she encountered red traffic signals and at other drivers. Finally, the car screeched to a halt outside a nondescript office building.<br />
<br />
Emma handed me a plastic card. It was some sort of security pass "Swipe this at the door and key in 9153. Then go up the stairway you see. Mistress X will be there. Good luck, Emm, see you later!". The car sped off as soon as I had alighted and closed the door. I did as Emma told me and found myself at the top of a dusty flight of stairs, standing outside an oak panelled solid door. It had no markings on it whatsoever.<br />
<br />
Nervous as hell, I knocked timidly on the door. There was no sound from behind the door. I rapped at the door more confidently and my efforts were rewarded by a woman's voice saying "Enter!".<br />
<br />
I opened the door and let it swing wide. I walked slowly into a large room with rich oak panelled walls, a burgundy coloured velvety carpet and exquisite furnishings. The whole room radiated opulence and luxury and I immediately felt calmer. Seated behind a large desk was a tiny, wizened woman in oriental dress and expensive looking jewellery.<br />
<br />
The woman, who I guessed must be Mistress X, barely glanced at me. In a cold tone, she ordered "Sit down". There was a small chair opposite her own, noticeably lower and less comfortable than her own. I took my place. Despite the fact that Mistress X was far shorter than me, the lowness of my seat meant I had to look up at her.<br />
<br />
Mistress X was studying a piece of paper intently. Then, almost reluctantly, she set it down and forced herself to attend to me. "You will speak only when I direct a question at you and you will answer my questions concisely and honestly. Please be assured that I have researched your background thoroughly and that I am well versed in detecting untruths. If I believe you to be less than honest with me, the interview will be terminated and you will leave this building immediately. Do you understand?"<br />
<br />
"Yes" I answered simply. This woman had a terrifying air about her. She made Cruella De Ville look like a sweet old lady.<br />
<br />
"First, you will return to me the pass you were given to enter this building". I meekly surrendered the card.<br />
<br />
Mistress X then fired a load of questions about me, about my education, my outside activities, my sexual experiences, my family's genealogy. It was very clear that she knew absolutely everything about my past. Not that there was much to hide mind, my background was very ordinary.<br />
<br />
Mistress X, who had been making notes and annotations as I answered, seemed satisfied with my responses. At any rate, I was not being asked to leave. I wondered how well I was doing.<br />
<br />
Mistress X pointed to a lacquered screen "You will go behind that screen and change into the clothes that you find there". I went behind the screen to find a black lacy basque, a lace thong, silk black stockings, a pair of high heels in my size and an almost transparent black robe. With some difficulty, as I had never wore lingerie like this before in my life, I got into the things and presented myself to Mistress X thus attired. I felt pretty foolish and awkward.<br />
<br />
Mistress X's gaze over my body was penetrating. Finally, she said "You have an attractive, well toned body. What you are wearing now will be your uniform and you will be required to wear it at all times whilst you are here. I can see that you are not used to wearing such garments but you strike as a very bright and intelligent girl and it will soon become second nature to you".<br />
<br />
Mistress X continued "Now I will explain to you what we do here. This agency provides a very unique but valuable service to high profile clients. Most of our client base are members of parliament, senior civil servants, high ranking military and police officers and we even have some Cabinet ministers. These men, and they are all men, have certain preferences in how they like to relax when they are not running the country. Some of them like, for example, to wear the uniform of a schoolgirl. Others like different things. But what they all like is to have a girl like you order them about and discipline them".<br />
<br />
Mistress X looked at me to see my reaction. It all sounded very creepy, but at the same time very exciting. I was intrigued and so I made my face wear a neutral expression.<br />
<br />
Mistress X continued "I should make it clear that there will be no sexual activity involved and that such physical contact that there is, is minimal and only employed where necessary. You will find that our esteemed clients understand and respect this. I should also make it clear that the financial rewards for providing this service are very high. Now, do you have any questions to put to me?"<br />
<br />
I had a few and Mistress X endeavoured to answer these fully and frankly. Then, once I had changed back into my usual clothes, she dismissed me. I asked if I had been "successful" and she told me merely to wait to hear from her further. It was a disappointment.<br />
<br />
Mistress X left me in limbo for a few days and I supposed that perhaps she had not been impressed by me. Then an innocuous brown envelope arrived in the post. Inside was a handwritten letter from Mistress X offering me the position. I was to report, with Emma, the following day to start my training.<br />
<br />
Emma was already aware of the news, and was thrilled. But she told me frankly "We are going to have a make a few changes to your presentation. Mistress X said you look too much like me". This was true. Emm and I were the same height and build and had the same hair colour. Emm whisked me off to a beauty salon where I was fully depilated and my hair dyed the shade of copper. I looked very different with my hair a different colour and styled differently to that of Emma.<br />
<br />
The following day I reported for induction. I had first to read and sign a thick contract that had been written by a better legal mind than my own. It bound me to absolute secrecy about the clients I would be working with. I shrugged. This was not an unreasonable demand and so I signed. I was then given my own passcard and code to enter the building and assigned my office, which was a smaller version of the one used by Mistress X and where I could change and shower.<br />
<br />
Then my training began in earnest. At first, I had to sit behind a secret chamber with a one way mirror and observe Emma with her clients. Emma was Mistress Y, by the way, and my moniker was Mistress Z. The routines were easy to pick up and after only a couple of days, I was confident enough to start with real clients.<br />
<br />
You never forget your first client. My first was an MP who must have been in his early fifties, fat, balding and dressed in a traditional pin striped suit. He wanted to become a schoolgirl called Cynthia. I made him strip and put on his gymslip and all the rest of it. Oddly, despite his build and his age, the outfit actually suited him. He did look a lot like many an overweight schoolgirl that I had known during my own school days, although the uniform was old fashioned and its wearer was too tall to pass.<br />
<br />
Anyway, once Cynthia was properly dressed, I put her through her paces. I made her write a short poem, which I marked and found fault with. That earned her a hundred lines, which she had to write in five minutes. The time allowed was deliberately too short, but to her credit, Cynthia had managed eighty lines that were neat and correctly spelled. But this didn't help her. I ordered her to bend over and lower her knickers. I administered ten strokes of the cane on her bare buttocks, which Cynthia had to count.<br />
<br />
Once the punishment was over, Cynthia had to kneel and beg me for forgiveness, which I condescended to give once Cynthia had kissed the cane. After finishing her lines, Cynthia was dismissed and went away to changing facilities. About a quarter of an hour later, the honourable member would be on his way to the House of Commons to go about his normal business.<br />
<br />
That first client had been nerve racking for me but I was relieved to find that it was all absurdly easy. Three more clients followed. Being a schoolgirl was the most popular theme, but there were others. Some of them liked to be transformed into sissy little girls, a confection of frills, lace and ribbons or submissive maids. Female military or police uniforms were also popular, especially amongst high ranking generals or police officers. There was a growing demand for secretarial outfits, the classic silk white blouse, pencil skirt and high heels. <br />
<br />
The outcome was always the same. The client would be made to put on their costume of choice and would invariably be punished, be it by a cane, a strap or a whip, by me. I found the power I enjoyed over these men quite intoxicating. I had been a mere schoolgirl myself only a few years earlier and now here I was wielding authority over VIP's, the men who actually ran the country.<br />
<br />
I found it very odd that these powerful men should want to become very submissive schoolgirls or maids or other types of lowly females. I reasoned that having to be a tough male politician or military officer was an impossible persona to maintain all of the time and that their feminine alter egos were a necessary way for them to let off steam.<br />
<br />
I should say something about the costumes that were made available for our esteemed clients. The schoolgirl, secretary and maid costumes were mostly procured from outfitters of such garments and were therefore authentic down to the tiniest detail and of the highest quality. A client could elect to wear a crisp, new uniform, or a used one, depending on their preference.<br />
<br />
Most of the other costumes, for sissy girls, sissy maids and babies, were hand made and stitched from delicate and expensive fabrics and had so many frills and flounces that it made even my feminine mind boggle that someone born to be male would wish to have the humiliation of wearing them. Anyway, it was part of my role to select the clothing to be worn from our storage facilities and to arrange for the garments to be freshly laundered once they had been vacated by their wearer. Invariably, they had to be dry-cleaned but as we had an arrangement with a company that supplied such a service the costs were relatively inexpensive.<br />
<br />
With one exception, who I shall come to shortly, the esteemed clients were generally of the same category. Middle-aged males of slightly different heights, weights and hairlines, all nicely docile and submissive once inserted into their feminine costumes. They looked nothing like women or girls and could never pass as a female unless they underwent radical medical procedures, which of course they never would for it would mean the end of their careers. They looked somewhat cute and feminine, but that was as far as it went.<br />
<br />
Probably the most amusing one was the client I had who was a high ranking civil servant. He was the most senior civil servant in his department, with power over the hundreds of other civil servants who worked there (mostly women, it should be pointed out). He was a "Sir" and had had various orders and other decorations conferred upon him by the monarch over his career, but his greatest pleasure was to be dressed as his female secretary in the classic secretary outfit and then made to bend over for punishment. He was well over six feet and broad with it, so it was quite a challenge to find the clothes and shoes for him (he took a size thirteen in shoes), but it was accomplished. It was funny to see this tall, powerfully built man, who made me look tiny by comparison, tottering about in a tight skirt and high heels.<br />
<br />
I must mention my most favourite client. Let's call him Glen. He is a very different client from the others. For a start, he is considerably younger and more feminine in every way from the other clients. He had just been elected as an MP and was considered to be something of a high-flier, possibly a future leader of his party.<br />
<br />
Glen came from a wealthy family and was the youngest of three children. He was the only boy and his birth was greeted with great joy by his parents, who had wanted a boy so far had only two girls. Even as recently as the seventies, a boy was still considered more valuable than a clutch of sisters. The only person not happy with the fact that Glen was a boy was Glen himself. As he emerged from baby and infant hood and realised, as we all do, that there was a great gender divide, Glen realised that he had ended up on the wrong side. In his heart and soul, he wanted to be a girl.<br />
<br />
To this end, he tried to include himself in the activities of his sisters as early as possible. At first, his sisters obliged him, the elder girl dressing him in the flower girl costume she had worn at a cousin's wedding. With his golden ringlets, slight figure and feminine features, Glen made a very presentable girl and wearing a dress felt so right to him. But when his parents found out about it, they were very angry. Glen and his sisters were punished - the girls confined to their room whilst Glen was spanked with a slipper and told in no uncertain terms that he was forbidden to wear female clothing in future.<br />
<br />
Glen was unhappy. His sisters were sympathetic, but could do nothing to help him. Glen could not resist the urge to dress up and was caught wearing one of his sisters' dresses.<br />
<br />
After this, Glen found himself packed off to the same all-boys boarding school that his father had attended. Glen was miserable there at first and wrote to his parents, begging them to let him come home. He received a brief response which ran as follows "You need to become a man and persevere. One day you will thank us for this".<br />
<br />
Glen quickly gleaned that he would need to suppress his inclinations towards femininity if he was to survive in this exclusively male environment. He was a bright, clever boy and took advantage of the much better than average education that was being offered. He soon gained a reputation as a swot. He was less successful on the sports field but acquitted himself well enough. <br />
<br />
Just under half a mile away from the school was the St Agatha's School for Girls. Whilst the other boys were fascinated by the budding female bodies that populated the school, Glen was tormented by the uniforms, though he never let on of course. Glen's outlet from relentless study was the drama society which put on three Shakespeare plays a year. Although Glen was a better actor than most of his peers, the lead male parts went to bigger, more masculine looking lads. Girls from St Agatha's were brought in to fill the female parts and Glen envied them as they wore elaborate and embroidered dresses. Glen longed to fill the parts of Juliet, Portia or Cleopatra but was never to be allowed to do so.<br />
<br />
Academically, Glen was successful, gaining top marks at school and going on to Cambridge University where he earned a first class honours degree. He considered an acting career but decided to go into politics and proved to be very accomplished at it. Of course, some years before, he had escaped from his parents so that he was at last free to indulge himself.<br />
<br />
I gradually got all of this out of Glen over a fairly long period. I felt desperately sad for him and so I was much kinder to him than to the other clients. Glen liked best to be dressed as a sweet little girl, with lots of frills and lace, and he looked very feminine and adorable. Over time, I persuaded him that he would look better and more sophisticated dressed as a woman of his own age and so he did agree. Glen made a very convincing and attractive woman and he was determined to dress that way out of the public gaze.<br />
<br />
I was Mistress Z for just under two years. The money I had earned was phenomenal. In my last year at university, I was able to purchase a top of the range sports car and had the pleasure of seeing the jaws of my fellow students dropped as it roared into the campus. I ate out in fancy restaurants and wore designer clothes. I had built up a healthy deposit towards buying my own flat once I graduated. <br />
<br />
But the decision to go was not mine. Mistress X decided that new blood was needed to keep their offering fresh and exciting and so both Emma and I were dropped. We were not altogether sorry. We had our final exams to study for and interesting and fulfilling careers in law to look forward to, but we would miss the money - and the fun.<br />
<br />
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<br />Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-65918562918260699592012-12-13T15:25:00.000-08:002012-12-13T15:25:31.113-08:00The Prefect's SisterFreddie watched as his little sister Hannah pranced about in her sparkly pink fairy costume as gracefully as a ballerina. Hannah wore a little silver tiara with pink fluffy bits in it and carried a pink wand with a glittering star at the end of it.<br />
<br />
The adults clapped at her antics appreciatively. Freddie joined, half-heartedly. At the best of times, he had very little interest in his sister. She was, after all, just a little girl who played with her dolls and danced about at every chance she got.<br />
<br />
Veronica Latimer or "Roni" to her friends, was a much more interesting girl than his baby sister. She was pretty, she was smart and she was confident. Freddie wanted to be with her more than anything in the world.<br />
<br />
There were two problems. One, Roni was two years older than Freddie. He was as much a baby to her as his own sister was to himself, and two, Roni was a Prefect whilst Freddie was a nobody, a nothing. <br />
<br />
In fact, the only time she noticed Freddie at all was if she spotted him dropping litter or some other petty act of misconduct and issued him with a stern reprimand prior to reporting him to his form tutor. Freddie had spent time in detention thanks to Roni Latimer.<br />
<br />
At school, Freddie resolved to do something so that Roni would notice him. He tried out for the football and rugby teams, but he was rubbish at football and too small and weedy to do well at rugby.<br />
<br />
After letting in fifteen goals as the team's goalie, the rest of his team poured scorn on him "A girl could do better than you, Norris" they taunted him "You'd be better off in the netball team!". This provoked loud howls of laughter "Nah, even they're not that desperate to have loser like Norris in their team, though he'd look pretty in one of those pleated skirts". Almost in tears, Freddie fled to the changing rooms.<br />
<br />
Realising that he wasn't going to impress Roni on the sports field, Freddie tried Drama. But, he was a terrible actor and kept forgetting his lines, much to the exasperation of the teacher and other pupils. The teacher took Freddie aside and gently told him that the stage was clearly not for him. Perhaps he might be better as a stage hand or handing out programmes. But Freddie wasn't interested in any role except one where he could be noticed by Roni.<br />
<br />
That left things like cookery or dance, but Freddie thought these to be too feminine. He wanted Roni to see him as a masculine boy and he could not do that wearing an apron or dancing the tango. The only way he could get to see Roni for any length of time was by attending meetings of the school council as a member of the audience. These sessions were so interminable that few students bothered. So Freddie sat through meeting after meeting that covered of such grave import as giving a vote of thanks to the local church or motioning that the lockers in the girls' changing area be given a fresh coat of paint.<br />
<br />
Roni, he noted during these meetings, was on fine form. She was always putting up motions, or arguing against the motions of others. Although she was a junior member of the council, she seemed to dominate it at times.<br />
<br />
As tedious as the school council meetings were, Freddie persevered with them. They were the only way he could get to see Roni. After two months, Freddie was hopeful that his diligent attendance might be bearing fruit. On the last few meetings, whilst others debated and Roni was silent, Freddie believed that she was looking at him with some intensity for a few moments.<br />
<br />
Suddenly, after one meeting ended, Freddie was leaving when he suddenly felt a hand on his arm. He spun around and was stunned to find that it was Roni.<br />
<br />
"Hi there! Freddie, isn't it? From form 12?". Freddie could only nod. Roni, super cool and confident Roni, in her immaculate school uniform and long blonde hair, was standing less than a foot away from him. He couldn't speak.<br />
<br />
"I've noticed you taking an interest in our meetings. That's great. I wish some of the other students here had more interest. You ought to stand for the school council yourself".<br />
<br />
Freddie had no interest in joining the school council, but now that he had Roni's attention he wasn't going to blow by telling her that. He merely nodded again.<br />
<br />
Roni could sense his uneasiness in her presence. She took one of Freddie's hands "You need to loosen up. Come with me". Leading Freddie by the hand she steered him into the school canteen. Then, she got them both fizzy drinks, which Roni paid for. Freddie thought he was the luckiest boy alive. Roni spoke to him, trying to put him at his ease. It worked. Freddie gradually began to feel more comfortable around her, so comfortable that he talked to her about his family, something he rarely did.<br />
<br />
Roni was particularly interested to hear that he had a younger sister. To Freddie's surprise, she said "You lucky thing, I wish I had a sister. I'm an only child" with sincerity.<br />
<br />
Freddie said, in an unusual burst of confidence "No, you're lucky. I often wish I was an only child. I have to share my parents with my sister".<br />
<br />
Roni frowned at this outburst and shook her head "You wouldn't wish that if you were me. I feel so lonely sometimes. There's stuff you can't share, even with your parents, but you could with a sister. Girl stuff, you know".<br />
<br />
Freddie didn't know, but he nodded "I can understand that" he said.<br />
<br />
Roni leant over and gave one of his hands a squeeze "You seem a nice boy". She leant back in her chair and sighed "You aren't like the other boys round here. Jerks. All of them. Trying to be all macho and tough" she said with a vehemence that shocked Freddie.<br />
<br />
Roni continued "I've been out with some of them, you know. Grade A Jerks! Treated me like...well, not good anyway. But you seem different, a boy I can actually talk to. A boy who has a mind of his own. I'd really like to see more of you...."<br />
<br />
Freddie almost fainted. By any standard, that was as close to asking him out on a date without actually saying so explicitly.<br />
<br />
Roni was studying him intently with those large, pale blue eyes that seemed to balloon in size whenever she chose and enhanced her beauty and attractiveness "So...shall we meet up again? After school one day? You can come round my place. My parents are hardly there what with their jobs and stuff".<br />
<br />
Freddie's mouth was dry and so he could only nod again. He was thrilled beyond measure at this unexpected outcome and also slightly ashamed of his performance in front of this girl that he so admired.<br />
<br />
Roni seemed satisfied with his response however. "Great! I'll text you. It'll probably be next week now as I've got stuff on". She leant over again and gave him a light kiss before gathering her things and leaving Freddie stunned but happy.<br />
<br />
It was nine days later before Freddie got the promised text and in those nine days he had never been so nervous and so restless in his life. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't concentrate on school work and his appetite was so small that his mother was becoming concerned about him.<br />
<br />
Now he faced the prospect of having Roni all to himself, he grew even more nervous. He sat through his lessons and walked about the school zombie-like. When the four o clock bell rang for the end of lessons, he got another text from Roni "Meet me in the school car park".<br />
<br />
Freddie hurried over to find Roni chatting with some other girls. Roni quickly left them and joined Freddie. The girls gaped and looked at each other. Freddie flushed slightly, but Roni seemed oblivious to them, which rather impressed Freddie.<br />
<br />
"Here's our ride" said Roni. Freddie saw a taxi pull up. Roni exchanged greetings with the driver, a woman, as it happened. Roni even let Freddie sit in the front seat, something he was rarely allowed to do in his parents' car. Freddie was impressed that Roni could afford a cab. A cab fare was about a week's pocket money for him.<br />
<br />
The taxi ride was brief and the driver dropped them off outside a large detached house on a street in one of the smarter areas of town. Freddie guessed that Roni's parents must be fairly well off to live in a place like this.<br />
<br />
Roni removed a shiny gold key from her purse and let them into the house and gave Freddie a brief tour. The rooms were all big and well furnished. The living room had a large plasma TV and all of the other gizmos. Of greater interest, of course, was Roni's own room.<br />
<br />
Freddie was slightly disappointed by it. Roni had her own TV, DVD player, sound system and personal computer, but the decor was a dullish green. Freddie expected that most girls of Roni's age would have pictures of hunky footballers or pop stars on their walls, but Roni had none of that. The pictures that hung from her walls were like those in his own sitting room, of landscapes or birds. Freddie noted that she had a bookcase stuffed full of books and a wardrobe and dresser. All that, plus a single bed, were all that comprised Roni's room.<br />
<br />
The tour over, Roni took Freddie to the kitchen and sat him down whilst she got him a soft drink. From a large chest up freezer full with food, Roni took out a large pizza and stuck this in the oven. Half an hour later, Freddie was munching on the pizza with Roni. After they had finished, Roni cleared it all away and put the dishes and glasses in a dishwasher.<br />
<br />
As the kitchen was filled with the sound of the dishwasher doing its work, Roni beckoned him to follow her. Roni led him to the spacious couch and gestured for him to sit. Roni put a DVD on and then sat beside Freddie. Really close beside him. Then, unexpectedly, she began to kiss and cuddle him. Freddie was startled and had no idea what to do, but it was enjoyable being this close to Roni and being touched and kissed by her.<br />
<br />
Roni stopped after a few minutes and settled down to watch the DVD. Freddie's mind was not on the DVD but on what he had just experienced. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. Roni looked at him for a while and then decided to turn the DVD off. She gestured for Freddie to follow her upstairs to her room.<br />
<br />
Roni was still wearing her school uniform. For that matter, Freddie was still wearing his. But whereas Freddie looked like a typical snotty schoolboy in his get up, Roni looked like a goddess in hers, with her crisp white blouse, tight one piece gymslip and stockinged long legs.<br />
<br />
Roni opened her her wardrobe to reveal another three sets of the same uniform "Now you know how it is I always look perfect!" she said. "But" she said "that's not why I brought you up here. I was just wondering what you might look like wearing one of my uniforms. Pretty cute, I'd guess".<br />
<br />
Freddie didn't know what to say. His instinct was to refuse outright. But then Roni might be offended and that would be the end of him and Roni. He merely shuffled uncomfortably.<br />
<br />
"Oh, go on" said Roni encouragingly "It's only a bit of fun between us and I won't tell anyone. Promise". She looked at Freddie with those big blue eyes again.<br />
<br />
Against his better judgement, Freddie gave in and within half an hour he was wearing one of Roni's uniforms. It was a strange feeling to be wearing a skirt and to have stockinged legs and Freddie felt acutely self-conscious. When he looked in the mirror at himself dressed as he was, he cringed.<br />
<br />
Although Roni was a girl, she had a two year advantage on Freddie in age and so her uniform was too big for Freddie. It hung on him limply. He looked, as Roni had pointed out laughingly, somewhat like a girl with his small stature, stick-like legs and small features. But compared to Roni, whose uniform of course fit her perfectly and showed off her budding bosom and curves to the best advantage, Freddie's impersonation of a schoolgirl was on the scruffy and scrawny side.<br />
<br />
And, even though he was dressed the same as Roni, he somehow looked more infantile, rather like a younger sister who would always be second best to her older sibling. Roni saw his slight distress and confusion and took him by the hand and led him to the bed before kissing him passionately.<br />
<br />
"You make quite a good looking girl" she gushed. Then she allowed Freddie to get back into his normal clothes before summoning a taxi to take him home.<br />
<br />
Over the next few days, Freddie thought about his new experience. He really shouldn't have allowed Roni to coax him into wearing a girl's uniform. But, after thinking about it, he decided it was just a bit of harmless fun. A one off. <br />
<br />
Then, during double French, Freddie got a text from Roni asking him to come round to her place again that evening. Freddie was slightly tempted to refuse, but his attraction to Roni won out over his doubts and so he found himself once again alone with Roni.<br />
<br />
Roni was kind of flustered, which was unusual for her. Usually, she was ice-cool and in control, but she seemed panicky. Freddie tentatively asked her what the matter was.<br />
<br />
Roni clasped one of Freddie's hands "I really need your help tomorrow night!" she said in a higher pitch of voice than was usual for her "I have to give a lecture to some Girl Guides. I have an idea what to do, but it won't work without you".<br />
<br />
Freddie had an uneasy feeling about this "I'm not dressing up as a girl again!" he said firmly.<br />
<br />
Roni chuckled "Don't worry, I don't need you as a girl, silly" and then went on to explain her idea in more detail. It was, Freddie decided, a good plan, especially as it did not require him to wear a skirt.<br />
<br />
They spent the rest of the evening rehearsing Roni's performance. It was pretty intense and there was no time for any fun like the previous time. Roni at last was satisfied and Freddie was finally allowed to go home.<br />
<br />
Less than 24 hours later found Roni and Freddie outside the cabin that served as the home of the local Girl Guides. Several of them passed, in their uniforms and gave them curious stares. They had a right to stare. Roni was dressed in a long black cloak and her stockinged legs shivered in the frigig night air. Freddie was also wearing a cloak over a suit with a bow tie. He also had a cane and top hat and a fake bushy moustache.<br />
<br />
They hurried inside and set up and then before they knew it, the curtains were pulled back to reveal them. Their exclusively female audience clapped politely.<br />
<br />
Roni had been obliged to remove her cloak for her act. She was dressed in a tight black leotard, with a small bow tie and cuffs on the end of her long, bare arms, and she teetered in a pair of high heels. Raising her voice, she cried "Ladies -and gentleman - please welcome the Great Gogort, Master of Magic!"<br />
<br />
The girls clapped a little more enthusiastically as a nervous Freddie walked onto the stage. He did exactly as Roni had shown him. He tried to shuffle a deck of cards and ended up spilling them all over the place. He tried to produce a coin from thin air but produced only thin air. Not surprisingly, the audience began to boo loudly.<br />
<br />
Roni stepped forward "OK, girls. So much for the Great Gorgot. Wanna see some real magic?"<br />
<br />
"Yes please!" chorused the audience as one.<br />
<br />
After appropriating Freddie's hat and cloak, she gave a real demonstration of her magician's skills, using Freddie as her assistant. By the end, the girls were clapping their hearts out.<br />
<br />
"Thanks ladies" Roni said humbly "Now, the point of that show was not only to entertain you with magic tricks but to show you that just because a girl looks pretty, she is not useless, and just as importantly, girls are every bit as good as boys, better sometimes. And I'll leave you with those thoughts".<br />
<br />
Roni got a standing ovation for that speech. Roni was very happy with the way the evening had gone. Freddie less so. He felt a little used and made to look a fool in front of a load of girls to boot! Although he had not had to wear the assistant's revealing outfit, he may as well have done.<br />
<br />
Roni cheered him up by congratulating him on his performance "I couldn't have managed without you!" she said, kissing him and giving his hand a little squeeze.<br />
<br />
Freddie went home, wondering where his relationship with Roni was going.<br />
<br />
There was a fortnight's gap before he was asked round to Roni's again. Freddie wondered, not for the first time, why she couldn't come round to his for a change. His home was not as nice as Roni's perhaps but it was perfectly respectable. But Roni said she didn't want adults and kids in the way of their fun.<br />
<br />
After eating and watching some TV, Freddie soon found out what Roni had in mind for in one of the guest bedrooms was a pile of girls' clothes. Not a school uniform this time, but some old clothes of Roni's from a few years ago. They should, she said, fit him well enough.<br />
<br />
But Freddie decided it was time to put his foot down. He was supposed to be the male in this relationship. He wanted Roni as a girlfriend, but he didn't want to end up as one himself! "Look, Roni" he said "I like you a lot. But this dressing me up as a girl thing is not on!" he told her firmly.<br />
<br />
The transformation in Roni was sudden and frightening. Her eyes became slits so that she looked almost feline. Her wrath was palpable. When she spoke, it was more like a sibilant hiss "Is that so? OK, Mr Macho, then you can leave! Get out of my house right now!"<br />
<br />
Freddie had known that girls can be scary when they were angry, but Roni was scarier than any girl he had ever known. He didn't want to see her as angry as she was now and he didn't fancy having to walk home. He doubted Roni would pay for a cab in her current mood.<br />
<br />
"Ok Roni, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you. I don't want to go home" Freddie said with humility.<br />
<br />
Those words seemed to instantly calm Roni down and she smiled "OK, apology accepted. But I want to see you wearing these, OK?"<br />
<br />
Freddie blanched but nodded. Roni left to give him some privacy. Blushing, Freddie got undressed and forced himself to put on the white lace trimmed panties and matching vest, stripey multi-coloured thick stockings, a white top with some lace detail, a denim mini skirt and a pale pink cardigan. Finally, he fitted his stockinged feet into a pair of shiny black flats with cute little bows on the front.<br />
<br />
Reluctantly, he announced that he was ready, and Roni entered. The contrast in their dress could not have been more different. Roni had likewise changed, but into a pair of jeans, a shirt and denim jacket. Freddie felt quite girlish and infantile in comparison. He looked a lot like his baby sister dressed as he was.<br />
<br />
But Roni was pleased. The tigress of not so long ago became almost kittenish. She insisted on brushing Freddie's hair over and over again, even though it was too short for such treatment. Roni even got out her make up and dabbed some of this on Freddie's features. The effect was to make him look even more girlish.<br />
<br />
Freddie was embaressed to be dressed and treated this way by someone who as supposed to be the girl in the relationship, but didn't know what to do to stop it. He had had a taste what would happen if he rebelled.<br />
<br />
Roni was happy, calling Freddie, her little sister, which made Freddie cringe even more. After a few hours of wearing girls' stuff, having his hair brushed and his face prettified, Roni reluctantly released him from his feminine bondage. Freddie was glad to escape and go home. It had all been a freaky experience.<br />
<br />
The summer holidays - six long weeks of freedom - were coming up. Freddie usually went on holiday with his family, as they had relatives in Australia and Canada. He didn't suppose he would get to see Roni at all during that time. He saw her face fall as he told her about how he spent his summers. She had obviously hoped to see him, which encouraged Freddie. Maybe she was falling for him too and would give up this cross-dressing nonsense in favour of a more natural relationship.<br />
<br />
But, the week before school broke up, his mother received the devastating news that he father, who had moved to Australia to enjoy his retirement, had been taken ill. After a quick family conference, it was decided that Freddie and Hannah would have to stay with with an aunt in Hertfordshire.<br />
<br />
It was disappointing not be able to go to see his grandfather, but Aunt Pam was not a bad sort. He told Roni all this over lunch and to his surprise she seemed to perk up. When he got back home from school, he was astonished to see Roni, in her school uniform, talking to his mother very politely and pleasantly. Mum seemed to take a real shine to Roni.<br />
<br />
"Here, Freddie" said his mum "You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend! You've been holding out on us you little rascal!"<br />
<br />
This was true. Freddie had told his mum he was going round a mate's house to play computer games.<br />
<br />
"And she's a school prefect!" mum exclaimed, pointing at the little badge pinned to Roni's chest "You would do well to follow her example young man".<br />
<br />
Freddie cringed at being shown up by his mum in front of Roni. Roni chipped in innocently "As we agreed, I've asked your mum about you coming to stay at mine over the summer!"<br />
<br />
Freddie was stunned. He had not agreed anything of the kind with Roni. She had gone behind his back without even asking him! But he knew that he dared not object. Roni was a guest and his mum clearly liked her. He wondered what his mum had said.<br />
<br />
Roni put him out of his misery "Your mum said it's ok for you to stay at mine, what with my parents being there and all"<br />
<br />
"And you'll get to spend more time with your girlfriend!" Mum pointed out.<br />
<br />
Freddie was thrilled by the prospect of spending more time with Roni, but scared of what she had in mind for him. At least her parents would be there, he thought. She couldn't dress him up as a girl in front of them.<br />
<br />
A little over a week later, Freddie's parents dropped him off at Roni's house. Roni came out and waved as the car carrying Freddie's parents sped off towards Hertfordshire, where Hannah would be deposited with Aunt Pam.<br />
<br />
Roni helped Freddie with his bags to the guest bedroom where he would be staying. "Where are your parents?" he asked. Roni smiled "In Boston, on a business trip, for the next two months!"<br />
<br />
"But you said...."<br />
<br />
"I lied" Roni said simply "Your mum would never have left you if she had known my parents were away. But we'll be OK. I'll take good care of you, I promise, and no-one will be any the wiser. So, no harm done right?"<br />
<br />
"Right" said Freddie weakly. He felt like slumping down. Roni had lied to his mum...and to him....to get her own way. And he was trapped here for the next six weeks. He could try to phone his parents and get them to turn back but he doubted Roni would let him and she was bigger and stronger than him and had already shown her deviousness.<br />
<br />
"I need to use the bathroom" Freddie said. If he could only get a few moments alone he could fire off a text to his parents, pleading illness. They would turn back and there would be nothing Roni could do about it.<br />
<br />
"No problem, you know where it is" said Roni sweetly.<br />
<br />
Breathing a huge sigh of relief, Freddie went upstairs to the bathroom and locked the door. There. Even if Roni belatedly worked out what he was up to she would never be able to stop him. He reached in his pocket for his mobile that he had slipped in there only an hour earlier. It was gone! Frantically, he searched all his pockets but it was not there. Either he had somehow dropped it or.....with a sinking heart he realised what must have happened. Roni, the girl with magic tricks, had palmed it off him, probably when she helped him with the cases.<br />
<br />
"Oi, Freddie! You OK up there?" came Roni's voice, loudly.<br />
<br />
Freddie left the bathroom and bounded downstairs "Where's my mobile?", he demanded.<br />
<br />
Roni looked genuinely non-plussed "Don't ask me! Sorry, can't help you there darling. Look, forget your silly phone. What do you need it for now you're here with me? I'll go and make us some lunch. Everything will be fine, you'll see!"<br />
<br />
Freddie wasn't convinced.<br />
<br />
The evening passed without incident. Roni had insisted on putting on some DVD's. There was a really old one called "Some Like It Hot" and a more recent one called "Tootsie", and some others. They all seemed to be about men ending up in drag. Roni clearly had a thing about seeing men in dresses.<br />
<br />
Freddie found it creepy and was wondering how he could escape from this weird girl. But then, Roni would kiss and cuddle him and he didn't feel scared of her any more.<br />
<br />
In the morning, Roni served Freddie breakfast in bed and seemed attentive to his every need. As Freddie ate, there was a loud banging at the door. "Ah, they've arrived at last!" She rushed out before Freddie could ask here what had arrived.<br />
<br />
After a long interval, Freddie ventured downstairs. The sitting room was filled with boxes with labels on from retail outlets called "Li'l Miss Attire", "Frillyknicks" and "Sissyboy.com". Roni was busily removing the items from the boxes.<br />
<br />
Freddie saw that the contents were dresses and underwear that would be considered even by a real girl to be too frilly and fussy. Dresses of shiny silk and satin, with lace petticoats, and ruffled panties. And Freddie noted that they were about his size.<br />
<br />
Roni, seeing Freddie, held up a green be-ribboned frock and saw "Ta-ra! Your new clothes!"<br />
<br />
Freddie cast his head down "Roni, I can't wear those things. They're horribly girly! Even my sister would refuse to wear that stuff!"<br />
<br />
Roni became angry again and even started throwing things at Freddie until he relented. Cringing, he allowed himself to be put into the ruffled white panties, frilled ankle socks and magenta frock. He had to wear a pair of shiny mary janes to complete the ensemble.<br />
<br />
Now he looked like a little girl of about eight! But Roni was still not satisfied. She got some hair rollers out, heated these up and put these in Freddie's hair. It was just about long enough to accommodate the tiny rollers. The hot rollers hurt. After a few hours, Roni took them out and Freddie found that he had curls! <br />
<br />
The effect of curling his hair was astonishing. He looked more like a girl than ever. In fact, looking at himself in the mirror, it was hard to imagine that a boy lay beneath those lovely tresses and pretty layers of clothing.<br />
<br />
Roni was triumphant and crowned her achievement by managing to tie a white bow in Freddie's hair "There! Now you really are my little sister!" She kissed him on the forehead.<br />
<br />
So began Freddie's bizarre life as Roni's little sister. Under Roni's direction, he had depilate himself daily, get his hair fixed and had to change dresses three times a day. Roni insisted on him going to bed at seven and he had to wear a frilly nightdress and have his hair put in rollers.<br />
<br />
Freddie found the whole experience humiliating. He had to get used to walking around in dresses that swished as he moved and having fussy bits of lace and frills ever in his vision. Worst of all, although his very frilly panties were concealed beneath the skirts of his dress, he knew, and Roni knew, all of the time, that he was wearing them.<br />
<br />
Roni of course lounged at her ease in a jeans and t-shirt, enjoying seeing her little sister properly dressed and behaved.<br />
<br />
Three weeks into the vacation, Freddie was eating his breakfast. Cornflakes, held in a shiny pink bowl with flowers on. Even the spoon was pink. Roni's gender re-orientation was relentless. Roni had cooked herself some bacon and eggs and was wolfing these down when there was suddenly a noise. Somebody was entering the house!<br />
<br />
Roni put a finger to her lips to motion Freddie to be quiet. There was a look of panic on her features. There was the sound of voices "Roni? Where are you?" asked a female voice.<br />
Roni's head almost crashed onto the table in despair "Oh, no! It's my parents!" she whispered. She leant over "Stay here. And don't say a word!" she hissed into Freddie's ear. She went out to greet her parents.<br />
<br />
The business trip had gone awry and hence Roni's parents had decided that there was no point remaining in the States and so had come home. This much Freddie was able to glean from the conversation happening in the other room. For the time being, Roni's parents were not aware of his presence. Roni was trying to keep them away from the kitchen, but with little success.<br />
<br />
To Freddie's horror, a man and a woman barged their way past Roni and into the kitchen. They were stunned to see what appeared to be a little girl sat at their kitchen table. "Roni, what is this girl doing here?" Roni's mother demanded. Freddie noted that she seemed to be the dominant partner in the marriage. Roni's dad hung back, silent.<br />
<br />
"This is Hannah. Mum. Her grandfather, who lives in Australia by the way, took a turn for the worse and Hannah's parents begged me to take care of her at very short notice. What else could I do but agree?"<br />
<br />
Freddie was impressed both by Roni's quick thinking and the way she spoke. There was no tremor of panic in her voice. Her mother was instantly mollified "Well, alright. I'm pleased that you helped someone out. But I would have preferred it if you had called me and let me know first!" The woman, dressed in a smart business suit with much jewellery, switched her attention to Freddie "Hello, little girl. You look very pretty!" she said in sugary tones that made Freddie cringe.<br />
<br />
"Alan!" said the woman, addressing her husband "don't you think Hannah is very pretty?" Alan murmured something indistinct. He wasn't interested in little girls, Freddie realised.<br />
<br />
Roni stepped forward and offered Freddie a hand "Excuse us please, mother, but Hannah needs to use the bathroom. Isn't that right, Hannah?" Freddie nodded and meekly took Roni's hand and followed her out of the kitchen.<br />
<br />
"What an adorable child!" Roni's mother said after them.<br />
<br />
Roni took Freddie upstairs to the bathroom and locked the door. She sat down on the loo and held her head in her hands. Bewildered, Freddie asked "What do we do now? I can't stay like this for the next three weeks!"<br />
<br />
Roni grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him "You're going to have to! You had better behave exactly like the little girl you appear to be or I will be in BIG TROUBLE!!!!" Pausing, Roni said "Look, it's not going to be that difficult. You've managed ok as a girl for almost three weeks. Three more weeks, that's all I ask, and I'll do anything for you. Anything!" she begged.<br />
<br />
Freddie gave this some thought. Although he still hated it, Roni was right when she said he had done well thus far. He could cope with girlhood for a while longer. And at the end of it Roni would be so grateful that she would do anything for him. So he agreed.<br />
<br />
But, as Freddie was to find, it was the worst thing he could have done for Roni's mother, Sylvia, decided to take an interest in "Hannah". Whilst they were watching TV, Sylvia suddenly frowned and said "Hannah, sweetie, where are your dolls?". Freddie looked blank. "Your dollies, child! Every little girl likes to play with dollies! Even you, Roni!"<br />
<br />
Freddie saw Roni scowl at the memory.<br />
<br />
"I..er. left them at home" said Freddie weakly.<br />
<br />
Sylvia shook her head "This will never do! Come along, young lady, let's go and get you some dolls to play with! Alan! Get the car out!"<br />
<br />
Freddie froze. He was going to have to go outside dressed as a sissy girl! He was terrified! With obvious reluctance, Roni put a pink wool coat on him and a white woollen hat and mittens "Just hold on to my hand sweetie" she whispered. This calmed Freddie somewhat, but his debut on the public stage as a little girl was still too frightening to contemplate.<br />
<br />
The drive to the mall seemed over in no time and Freddie suddenly found himself amidst a sea of shoppers. He was drawing attention. Not because he had been flagged as being a boy in girls' clothing but because of his prettiness and the fussiness of his clothes. No other girl in sight was dressed as he was.<br />
<br />
They entered a posh department store and ride the lift to the Toys and Games Department. Freddie looked wistfully at the Boys' Toys department, with its computer games, mountain bikes and action figures but their destination was the Girls' Toys Department. Freddie was dazzled by the pinkness of everything. At Sylvia's bidding, Freddie was shown an array of dolls, complete with dolls' houses, prams and accessories. Freddie felt like dying of shame at having to choose such girly toys.<br />
<br />
There was one doll that he noticed that was different. It was an Amazon woman clad in armour and wielding a sword. That doll wouldn't be so bad. "I want that one!" he piped up. Sylvia frowned again "Sweetie, I really don't think that doll is appropriate for you. You are so pretty and ladylike!". To Freddie's dismay, she reached out for a doll that was a baby one, complete with dummy and nappy "Baby Tiffany". A pram, tea set and baby bath were added to the purchases to Freddie's horror.<br />
<br />
Freddie was given his doll to play with on the journey home and he had to make a show of cosseting and mothering the plastic baby. Whilst the adults, and Roni, lounged about, Freddie had to make a show of bathing and feeding baby Tiffany. If his sister could see him now, he would die of shame.<br />
<br />
It was the pram that bothered him most though. It had sat for the last two days in the lounge. Eventually, Sylvia would insist on him using it to take Tiffany for a walk and that meant going outside. The fateful day came and he was put outside in the garden with his baby and pram. He pushed the pram with little enthusiasm, cursing Roni for putting him in this humiliating position in the first place.<br />
<br />
He was startled by the sound of someone coming over the fence. It was a boy, no, it was a girl who looked very tomboyish. She gave a friendly wave "Hi there. I'm Mary! What's your name?"<br />
<br />
"Hannah" said Freddie, blushing.<br />
<br />
Mary regarded him "Hi Hannah. How old are you?"<br />
<br />
Freddie blushed again "I'm eight years old" he lied.<br />
<br />
"Well, what do you know? I'm eight too!" then the girl looked at him curiously "But you look kinda big to be eight and what's with the frilly dresses? You look about five! Sorry, but you do!"<br />
<br />
Freddie, to his horror, burst into tears. Startled, Mary raced over to him and took him in her arms "There, there, little girlie" she cooed. Then she drew back "Hey, you aren't a girl!"<br />
<br />
Freddie said "Please don't tell anyone" he begged.<br />
<br />
Mary said "You're a boy. And you enjoy wearing dresses that frilly, playing with dolls and....wearing girls' knickers? You wear girls' pants right?"<br />
<br />
Freddie cringed as he said "Yes, I love it. Especially the knickers".<br />
<br />
Mary collapsed into mirth "That is so cute....well...Hannah...your secret is safe with me....enjoy playing with your dollies!" Mary rapidly climbed back over the fence and disappeared out of sight.<br />
<br />
Roni came rushing out "Who was that, Hannah?" she demanded.<br />
<br />
Freddie shrugged "Girl next door. She thinks I'm a very sissy girl and wants nothing to do with me".<br />
<br />
Roni nodded "Good. You're doing very well so far. Only two weeks left of this charade"<br />
<br />
Freddie watched her leave in puzzlement. If his innate maleness was so obvious to an eight year old girl like Mary, why didn't anyone twig what he really was?<br />
<br />
The next two weeks passed in a daze for Freddie. He was gradually getting used to the routine of little girlhood. Only one more humiliation was in store for him. In the last week of his stay, the Latimers went out for the day, leaving Freddie in the charge of Roni. When they returned, they summoned Freddie to them.<br />
<br />
"Dearest Hannah" said Sylvia "As you will soon be leaving us and as you have been a well behaved young lady, we have bought you a little gift". Alan handed Freddie a gift wrapped present. Puzzled, he pulled off the wrapping paper to find......a fairy outfit....exactly like the one his sister wore but in his size.<br />
<br />
Freddie was stunned and ashamed. He couldn't, wouldn't wear this!<br />
<br />
"Well, what do you say, Hannah?" asked Sylvia.<br />
<br />
Freddie mumbled something that sounded like "Thank you".<br />
<br />
"Speak up, girl!" Sylvia snapped "Don't you like your present?"<br />
<br />
Before Freddie could speak again, Roni intervened "She loves it. She's just very shy, aren't you sweetie?". Freddie nodded.<br />
<br />
"In fact" said Roni "She's so thrilled that she wants to wear it right now, isn't that so Hannah sweetie?"<br />
<br />
Freddie could only nod again.<br />
<br />
Half an hour later, Freddie edged into the room. He had never felt so ridiculous in his life as he did right now. He was wearing a pink leotard, with a pink bodice and a fluffy pink tutu. His legs were bare except for the satin ballet slippers that he had to wear on his feet. He wore a dainty tiara with pink fluffy bits in and carried a wand. Two large silver and pink angels wings protruded from his back.<br />
<br />
For the first time in his life he had some sympathy for his sister and, for that matter, for all womankind. Being forced to wear such ludicrous outfits just to look enchanting. And enchanting was just how the Latimers' described "Hannah" in "her" fairy costume. At the end of his routine, taught to him by Roni, he involuntarily bobbed a curtsey which earned him a round of applause. Quite where that had come from, Freddie would never know.<br />
<br />
The last day of Freddie's stay arrived. In one way it would be a relief to return to boys' clothes and habits but there was the pressing problem of how to get Freddie back into boys' clothes before his parents returned to pick him up without the Latimers realising that their little fairy princess was in fact a boy.<br />
<br />
As usual, it was Roni who came up with the idea. In the last hour before Freddie's parents were due to arrive, Roni pretended to have severe stomach cramps. The Latimers decided that they had to get her to a hospital right away and so left. "Hannah' would be fine for half an hour. As soon as they were gone, Freddie changed back into boys' clothes and brushed out his curls. His hair was still curlier than usual, but he hoped no-one would notice. His parents arrived and took him, blissfully unaware that half an hour earlier their son had been dressed as a sweet little girl.<br />
<br />
Freddie and Roni continued to meet over the next six months, but by now Roni's mind was focused on her studies and her career. She became Deputy Head Girl and then Head Girl and won various school prizes for her school work and extra-cirricular activities. Meanwhile, Freddie's body was beginning to develop into a more male form. He was now taller than Roni and physically stronger and he had to shave. He was now too big and, too male, to pass for a girl anymore.<br />
<br />
It was his feminine physique and features that had attracted Roni to him, Freddie realised, plus the fact that she could easily dominate him. Now that he was becoming a man, he no longer held any attraction for her. Their meetings grew more infrequent and then ceased altogether. Freddie wondered if Roni had found another femme boy to wear the dresses and play with Tiffany.<br />
<br />
Freddie was now fourteen, and his experiences of three years earlier seemed almost like an illusion. Had he really allowed himself to be dressed as a girl? He scoffed at the notion.<br />
<br />
On one day, during his summer holidays, his mother decided to take him shopping "Your clothes are an absolute disgrace Freddie" she scolded him. They went into the Boys Department of the same department store where Freddie had last entered dressed as an eight year old girl. Freddie's mother picked over the shirts and trousers fussily. Freddie rejected all of her choices.<br />
<br />
Bored, Freddie turned around and was startled by the sight of a male mannikin wearing an elaborate and rather pretty dress. There was a sign over the small section that had been marked off that stated that the dress was part of the "Femme Boy" range. Freddie stared in disbelief. They actually marketed and sold dresses for boys? When did this happen?<br />
<br />
Mum noticed him staring at the mannikin "Oh, yes, the Femme Boy Department. Since you don't like anything here, lets go and take a look over there!"<br />
<br />
Freddie protested "No mum, I'm not wearing a dress!"<br />
<br />
Mum steered him over to an assistant "Let's see what dresses you have here, young man".<br />
<br />
The young man, clad himself in a chic skirt and cream blouse, showed them a lovely peach silk dress. Mum picked up the dress and thrust it at Freddie "Go and get changed into this!".<br />
<br />
Muttering, Freddie did as he was told. The dress was specially designed for the young male form and clung to him, except for the large skirt that swayed as he moved about. He felt silly as he sidled out of the changing booth.<br />
<br />
"There, he looks very nice!" said Freddie's Mum "We'll take it. And the other items too, please". The assistant rang up the purchases. Mum took Freddie by the hand and led him to the gents loos. She handed him some other items and told him to put them on. Freddie found a pair of frilly ankle socks, a pair of black flat shoes and a pair of frilled and beribboned knickers. Swallowing his pride, he put these on.<br />
<br />
Mum was well pleased with Freddie's new clothes and he was required to wear them at all times when he was not at school and to keep them clean and tidy. Over time, Freddie's hair grew out so that it could be styled and he was taught how to use make up. Thus, in his last years at school, Freddie lived a masculine life at school and a feminine one at home.<br />
<br />
And he was not the only boy subjected to femininity. His mother took him back often to the store to buy him new underwear and dresses and Freddie saw that the Femme Boy section had been expanded and that it was more populated by boys in dresses who hung their heads in shame.<br />
<br />
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<br />Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-12158075526685571552012-11-17T13:04:00.001-08:002012-11-17T13:04:45.025-08:00The Wellard Academy for BoysThe history and philosophy of the Wellard Academy for Young Gentlemen by Dr Eva Wellard, Director and Headmistress of the Academy.<br />
<br />
The Academy was founded by my ancestress, Lady Amelia Wellard, and the first headmistress, in 1859, to provide an education for girls of good families and to turn them into well-bred ladies. Until the end of the Great War, it was a successful and profitable enterprise and the Academy enjoyed a good reputation.<br />
<br />
But with the advent of feminism and the increase in women's rights and status in the inter-war years, the Academy was seen as old-fashioned and staid, and it was eschewed in favour of more "progressive" institutions. The Academy fell on hard times. The then headmistress attempted to reform the Academy and its practices to make it more modern and appealing.<br />
<br />
However, the changes had the opposite effect to that intended. The Academy, which had been unique in the application of good old fashioned methods of not only educating girls but conditioning them for womanhood, merely became just one of a number of similar establishments. The numbers of girls wishing to becoming pupils dwindled to unsustainable levels and by the end of the 1930's had been closed down.<br />
<br />
During the Second World War, the Academy building and grounds, which had become almost derelict, received a new lease of life when it was turned into a school for girls to be trained to be nurses. I recently received a letter from one of those girls, now an old lady in her eighties, which commented on her astonishment at the decor and furniture of the place, which seemed to be frozen in about the early 1900's.<br />
<br />
With the end of the war in 1945, the nurses' school was closed down and, it seemed, the Academy had no future. Over the next few twenty years, the building fell into decay and there was even talk of having it knocked down. Then, in 1965, my mother, who was the legal owner of the building and grounds, died and left it to me.<br />
<br />
All of the Wellard women had been teachers, and I too had trained as a teacher. Had I continued to teach in a secondary school, I might have become a headmistress in my late forties or fifties. Here was an opportunity for me to become a headmistress at the age of just 25. Besides, I chafed at being subordinate to others, especially as many of my so-called "superiors" were not as clever as me.<br />
<br />
The building and grounds, although neglected,were sound and could be restored to their former condition with an injection of capital. Finding a bank to lend me the money was a problem, especially as they were still prejudiced against women managing their own finances, but I managed it after some considerable time and much patience on my part.<br />
<br />
While the Academy building and grounds were restored, a project that took several months, I determined on the methods which would be applied. In essence, the Academy was going back to it early days. There would be firm discipline and the pupils would have to conform to a strict dress and behaviour code. During this time, I also recruited all of the teaching and other staff needed to help me run the place. All of the staff were female.<br />
<br />
All that was left to do then was to find the pupils. I worked out very quickly that it was no use trying to fill the place with girls. A typical girl of the 1960's was liberated and wanted a modern schooling. She would never submit to the discipline of the Academy.<br />
<br />
Thus, it was decided that the Academy would now cater for boys, mainly unruly, ill-disciplined ones whose parents had tried everything with them and had given up in despair. Due to the one on one tutoring that would be required, only the wealthy could afford to send their sons to us.<br />
<br />
The objective of the Academy, as it was in the past, was to educate and condition the pupils, but now it was to be boys that were to be transformed.<br />
<br />
The formula has been applied since the Academy's refounding in 1966, it has remained unchanged ever since and is as follows:<br />
<br />
At the application stage, the parents or guardians of the prospective pupil must sign a contract promising to allow the Academy to take full responsibility for the boy (or boys), to give authority to discipline the boy as and when the staff see fit, and also promising not to attempt to visit the prospective pupil or to interfere with the activities of the Academy. Any breach will incur a large financial penalty.<br />
<br />
Once the prospective pupil is accepted, he will be collected by a member of our staff and he is to bring only personal toiletries and the clothes that he happens to be wearing. Everything else will be provided by the Academy once he arrives.<br />
<br />
Upon arrival, the pupil will be processed before having any contact with any other pupils. The clothes he arrived in will be removed and he will not see them again until the day that he leaves us. The pupil will then be bathed, and depilated if necessary. His hair will be dyed a different colour and styled in a feminine way. Where the pupil's hair is too short to allow this, he will be made to wear a wig until his own hair grows to a more suitable length.<br />
<br />
The pupil will then be attired as a girl of about ten would have been a century ago. That is to say, he will be put into dainty, frilly underwear, made to wear a corset that has been tightened as much as possible, thick black stockings that itch terribly, a great wad of silken and lace petticoats and a pretty floral frock over which will be a white lace pinafore. Black boots with a small heel will be put on the pupil's feet. A ribbon will then be tied in his hair (or attached by some means or other).<br />
<br />
Finally, and most importantly, the new pupil must be given a feminine name, usually completely different from his male non de plume.<br />
<br />
Of course, during this initial and, for the pupil, most difficult process, the pupil is sure to resist our attempts to reform him, either verbally, physically, or both. Any resistance must be severely punished. The child is to be caned or smacked until he submits and apologises sincerely for his aberrant behaviour. It is for his own good and he must learn from the first day what will happen to him if he is disobedient in the smallest degree.<br />
<br />
Once the pupil is suitably attired and composed, he will be presented to the rest of school. He must henceforth answer to his new name and the other pupils must always call him by his new name.<br />
<br />
The days that follow will be very difficult for the new pupil as he struggles to adapt to his new identity and status. He will absolutely hate being referred to and treated as a girl as this is contrary to the former masculine life that he has led to date and to which he still aspires. He will be disgusted as the feminine finery he has been made to wear. He will be rebellious, and will have to be punished daily, or even several times a day in the worst cases. He may attempt to find some way of contacting his parents or escaping. <br />
<br />
Either action, he will soon find, is impossible. He will have no access to a mobile phone, computer or even an old fashioned telephone and thus no way to establish contact with anyone beyond the Academy. As for escaping, the Academy is surrounded by high walls and only one gate that is controlled by 24 hour security staff. All doors are looked and the keys held by the staff. At night, the grounds are patrolled by security guards with large, powerful dogs which can outrun and quickly overpower any human being. Besides that, the restrictive dress that all pupils have to wear will greatly hamper them. Corsets, petticoats and heeled boots, originally designed to restrict females from strenuous activity, will do exactly the same for a male.<br />
<br />
No pupil has ever managed to escape and I am confident that no pupil ever will. They are ours until they are completely reformed and released back to the custody of their parents or guardians.<br />
<br />
The pupil will gradually have to accept that he is here to stay, but he will still chafe at his enforced feminisation. Caning is one way to punish, but there are other ways. Corset discipline, increasing the height of the pupil's heels or the frilliness of his clothes to the point of absurdity, but I have found that public humiliation can be more effective. The more unruly pupils can be caned in front of the whole school, or made to wear a ridiculous outfit. I have seen some of the worst pupils reform very quickly after this treatment.<br />
<br />
Once the pupil has acclimatised somewhat to his new identity and has become biddable, he will attend classes. There will be the usual subjects such as English, Maths, Sciences and Geography, but also needlework, dress-making and Home Economics. Some boys are surprisingly adept with a needle and with proper supervision they are as perfectly capable as any girl of designing and making garments or cooking a souffle. Of course, at first they will not be happy at doing girls' subjects, but then they will have no choice in the matter and will have to knuckle down.<br />
<br />
Sports and games are also an important part of our cirriculum and must not be neglected. Pupils will play Lacrosse and Hockey on the sports fields in spring, autumn and winter, and Tennis during the summer. Pupils will have to wear the appropriate attire, normally a white top and a short skirt. There is also a swimming pool and again pupils will have to wear a girls' bathing costume.<br />
<br />
Extra-cirricular activities, organised by our keen staff, are Drama and Music. The Academy is quite proud of the Drama Company and the Orchestra and they have been allowed to perform for the benefit of the staff on occasion.<br />
<br />
The pupils will have a full day of schooling, even at weekends (since they cannot leave the grounds) and by the time they appear for dinner, they should be exhausted both physically and mentally.<br />
<br />
Unlike most other boarding schools, and unusually, there is no dormitory system. The Academy is large enough to allow each member of staff and each pupil to have a room to themselves. We wish for communication between the pupils to be limited. Keeping them together in one place, without proper supervision, invites mutinous talk, discussions about their past lives as boys and a misguided sense of masculine cameraderie that could jeopardise the reform process. Pupils are always closely supervised by a member of staff when out of their room and are kept strictly segregated from all other pupils at other times. At night, after changing into their lacy nightdresses, each pupil is put to bed and their door is locked. The door will not be unlocked again until the morning. In the event of the pupil needing to relieve himself overnight, there is a chamber pot under his bed.<br />
<br />
We have one special event of the year, Founders Day, which is very different from any other day. Lessons are suspended for that one day. The teaching staff will don their gowns and mortarboards and I, as Headmistress, will lead the tributes to the original founder of our establishment. The staff will then sit down to a celebratory dinner. Some of the pupils will be selected to act as maids to wait on the staff and appropriately dressed for the part.<br />
<br />
The other pupils will wear their school gowns. These are full length frocks, very sophisticated and elegant compared to what the pupils normally have to wear. They will be corsetted, of course and will be made to wear high heeled shoes and long gloves that fit snugly over their arms and hands. The pupils, having spent some hours getting ready, will parade themselves in front of the staff and execute a perfect curtsey to them. Some of the pupils look wonderful in their gowns, even if they do not look like they are enjoying it too much.<br />
<br />
On average, it takes about a year for a pupil to fully settle in. There have been a few pupils who are quicker learners and adapt in less time whilst there are some who resist reform and so take much longer to settle in. But all pupils DO adapt in the end. There is no alternative but to do so. As memories of their former lives grow dimmer, as they accept that there is no escape from their fate and as the clothes they wear and the pervasive feminine environment of the Academy<br />
inculcate femininity, they will have no choice but to adapt to it. Some pupils even come to love it.<br />
<br />
When the staff are all happy that a pupil has been reformed, his parents or guardians will be summoned to an interview with the Headmistress and will be served tea by a pretty young maid who, they will discover, is their boy. They are generally astounded by the total transformation from an unruly and uncontrollable youth into a more pleasing and submissive maid, but impressed by the changes wrought in him.<br />
<br />
After that, the pupil is a pupil no more. He is free to return home. Whether his parents or guardians decide to keep him as a girl (and many do) or allow him to revert to masculinity is up to them. Our work is complete.<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-6773574175426580662012-09-16T07:46:00.000-07:002012-09-16T07:46:01.965-07:00Fancy DressColin was grumbling again. It was like listening to a stuck record. What am I going to do here? How is the office going to cope without me? Why did I let you talk me into this?<br />
<br />
I sighed. With regard to the last question, I was beginning to ask myself the same question. Perhaps I would have been better off coming on my own.<br />
<br />
The idea of going on a six week cruise around the world had seemed perfect at the time. Colin and I were in our early forties, our two twin boys were all grown up and off on a year's backpacking trip for their gap year before university, and it was our 20th wedding anniversary.<br />
<br />
Colin had been a good catch for me. We had met at university. We could not have been more different. I had been outgoing and vivacious, a real social butterfly. I had studied fashion and designed my own clothes even then. Colin had been a law student. Very serious and hard working. He had preferred studying in the library or debating to being in the student union bar.<br />
<br />
But once we had met, we had hit it off and we married as soon as we both graduated. Colin progressed well in his career, perhaps a little too well for my liking as his work seemed to take precedence over family life. But, on the whole, he had been a good husband and father and he had after all supported me financially. He had even encouraged me to set up and run my own on-line fashion business, which was beginning to take off.<br />
<br />
Another reason for the cruise was to get Colin away from work. He was a workaholic and he had not had a proper break since when the boys had been small. Colin had been most reluctant to leave his practice for six whole weeks and it had taken all of my persuasive powers over a period of weeks to break down his resistance.<br />
<br />
Now I was wishing I hadn't. The cruise ship was a floating pleasure palace, filled with non-stop amusements and entertainments. And Colin kept saying how utterly bored he was!<br />
<br />
I made him come to one of the ship's many bars. Perhaps a few drinks would help him unwind a little. Whilst we were there, we met an american couple, Hank and Betsy. Hank was a huge, but largely silent man whilst Betsy was tiny in stature but had a huge personality.<br />
<br />
Betsy and I became friends straight away and got to talking whilst Hank persuaded Colin to try indoor golf. I was glad for a little time away from Colin as his constant moaning was getting me down.<br />
<br />
Betsy told me that she and Hank had been married for 31 years and had a boy and two girls, all grown up now. Hank had owned a lumber mill in Iowa, but had recently sold it for a healthy profit. Hank and Betsy were enjoying what they hoped would be a long and happy retirement.<br />
<br />
We talked and traded our life stories for quite some time until our menfolk returned. Colin seemed to have struck up a friendship with Hank. He was even smiling for the first time since the cruise began. We agreed that we would all meet up for dinner.<br />
<br />
As an added bonus, Hank and Betsy were first class passengers (Colin and I were in second) and so as their guests we got to eat in first class. We had to dress for the part mind you. Colin wore his tux and I wore a frock and heels along with a pearl necklace that had been left to me years ago by a long dead aunt.<br />
<br />
We had a most agreeable time. Hank and Colin really seemed to have hit it off and Colin went to the bar with Hank so as to leave us ladies alone. Betsy and I agreed that all we would all take part in various activities and functions together.<br />
<br />
Betsy asked me, with a smile, what Colin and I planned to do for the fancy dress ball. It was the highlight of the cruise as unlike most of the other parties where a strict dress code was enforced, anyone could come dressed as anything. No holds barred.<br />
<br />
I confessed that I must have missed the literature on the fancy dress ball when I had booked the cruise. We certainly hadn't planned for it. Colin and I literally had nothing to wear!<br />
<br />
Betsy leant over conspiratorally "Hank and I have done this before, you know. Do you know what our favourite outfits are?"<br />
<br />
I admitted that I had no idea.<br />
<br />
Betsy smiled again "We like to switch things around. Y'know, I put on a tux and Hank wears a frock. Not each others clothes of course, they'd never fit! But we have our own switcheroo outfits. Why don't you and Colin try it?"<br />
<br />
My mind was still whirling from the idea of seeing big old Hank in a dress "Oh, I don't know....I don't think Colin would want to wear a skirt". The idea seemed ludicrous.<br />
<br />
"It's only a bit of harmless fun" Betsy persisted "Apart from me and Hank, who else do you know on this boat? Who's going to care less how you are dressed".<br />
<br />
She had a lot of good points. I was warming to the idea of trying something different and unusual "Why not then?"<br />
<br />
"Attagirl!" said Betsy.<br />
<br />
"But....where am I going to get suitable clothes?" Colin was taller and slimmer than me and I'd never fit inside his tux.<br />
<br />
"Silly girl. We're on an ocean liner. It has plenty of shops. Meet up with me tomorrow and we'll go shopping. We'll get our men to give us some space".<br />
<br />
It was the weirdest shopping trip of my life and I was a veteran shopper. Betsy insisted on sorting me out first so we went to a tux hire shop where I was measured just like a man would have been and I tried on a tuxedo with the shirt, bow tie, cummerband, socks, shoes and even male underwear. It was quite a strange experience to behold myself in the mirror, dressed as a male.<br />
<br />
Pleased with the purchases for me, we moved on to the women's clothing stores, which were more numerous. I was able to estimate Colin's size and we picked out a suitable outfit for him. I couldn't believe as I looked at lingerie, dresses, shoes and jewellery that it would be my husband and not I who would be wearing it all.<br />
<br />
Colin's reaction when I had to tell him about the fancy dress ball and the gender switching idea was what I had expected. Namely, incredulity, followed by anger, but I eventually talked him into at least trying the outfit on.<br />
<br />
There was no question of him shaving his legs or anything. Colin refused point blank to do that. But he put on the white lace panties, matching bra, tights (that Betsy had called pantyhose), a cream silk blouse, a black skirt with red rose patterns on it with a white belt and a gold fastener and a pair of low heeled shoes with shiny gold buckles on.<br />
<br />
Except for the fact he looked like a woman with a man's head on her shoulders, Colin looked pretty good. He was slim and willowy. His legs looked slender and feminine under the skirt and tights. He had small hands. It was odd that in over twenty years of knowing him, I'd never noticed that before.<br />
<br />
A strange mood had come over Colin. He seemed quiet and shy and yet made no move to stop me when I applied make up to his face, filled his bra cups with fake boobs and fitted a long blonde wig onto his head. I enhanced his image further by applying false manicured nails to his fingers and added a few bits of costume jewellery.<br />
<br />
Colin made a very convincing woman. Not a beauty, of course, but nevertheless quite pretty and lovely. From the back, it was impossible to tell that my husband occupied the female trappings. He must have felt odd and very conspicuous, as I did, dressed in a tuxedo.<br />
<br />
But he made no protest or any move to take off the garments. He even seemed happy for me to take his arm and lead him out to the fancy dress ball. There we met Betsy and Hank. Betsy was dressed as I was whilst Hank was dressed as a southern belle in a red dress, bonnet and crinolines. Hank looked nothing like a woman. He was simply too big. Betsy was too tiny to pass as a man. Betsy and Hank looked far odder than Colin and I.<br />
<br />
But then again, there were many other people dressed even more bizarrely. As superheroes, celebrities or as clowns. Gender switching seemed tame by comparison.<br />
<br />
The evening was enjoyable and a complete success. Colin, I noted, was also enjoying himself and received quite a few compliments on his appearance. We danced together, with me playing the man's part and him taking that of the woman. <br />
<br />
In the early hours of the morning, we got back to our cabin, exhausted. I helped Colin out of his outfit and I put off mine. It had been a very interesting and fun experience, I thought as I prepared for bed, but it was purely one off event. Everything would return to normal.<br />
<br />
How wrong I was.<br />
<br />
Colin seemed to be completely hooked by the feminine lingerie, and rather than wear his own admittedly boring underpants, he slipped on a pair of black lace panties and decided to wear a pair of tights too underneath his usual male ensemble.<br />
<br />
I wanted to say something, to make him take them off, but I shrugged. Nobody could tell what someone else might be wearing under their outer clothes. Everyone just naturally assumed that everyone would conform to what was normal for their gender.<br />
<br />
Colin went about the ship dressed that way and no-one was any the wiser but I still felt uncomfortable with the knowledge that I knew.<br />
<br />
In hindsight, I should have put a stop to Colin's secret cross dressing, for even for the remainder of the cruise it began to get a little out of control or, at least, out of my control!<br />
<br />
Once Colin realised he could get away with wearing ladies underwear, he began to push the boundaries further. To my consternation, he visited the lingerie stores on the ship and bought up more underwear including stockings, suspender belts and basques. Out of sight of other passengers, he would put his purchases on in our cabin. It was quite disconcerting to see one's husband clad in in a basque, stockings and high heels.<br />
<br />
Colin mastered the art of wearing high heels and stilettos remarkably quickly but then he had always been very bright and a quick study.<br />
<br />
Colin made some other purchases too, such as dresses, blouses and skirts and he again wore these in the privacy of our cabin. He was not quite yet brave enough to go en femme in public. I was astonished at how feminine Colin's tastes were. The lacier and frillier the garment, the better, and he made my own wardrobe look quite dull in comparison.<br />
<br />
I consoled myself that, for one thing, Colin was not thinking about work. He seemed to have found a new obsession. And, whilst he was enjoying himself in his new outfits, I was free to spend the rest of the cruise doing what I liked and without him moaning about how bored he was.<br />
<br />
Time seemed to accelerate and before long the ship was making its way to its final destination: England. Colin seemed distraught that the cruise - and his opportunity to dress up - was coming to an end. I was relieved. Perhaps this meant that his new craze would come to an end.<br />
<br />
With great reluctance, he packed away his clothes and other accessories. He had bought so much that he had had to purchase more luggage to accommodate it all. Perhaps it could go to charity, I thought.<br />
<br />
Once again, I was wrong, for once we got home, Colin set to work clearing out his wardrobe and drawers of some of his old male clothing and installing his new feminine finery in its place. He had to keep some suits, ties and shoes of course for work, and some leisure wear, but most of his clothes were now women's clothing.<br />
<br />
I was greatly dismayed by this development and tried to put my foot down "Colin, please, you can't keep dressing up as a woman...."<br />
<br />
"Why shouldn't I?" he said "If I enjoy it? You've had the benefit of being allowed to wear what you want all your life. Why shouldn't I be allowed to do the same?"<br />
<br />
As always, his logic was irrefutable. Why shouldn't a man be allowed to wear what he liked and enjoyed wearing? Women were allowed to wear both skirted garments and trousers and had been for many years now whilst for men it was still only acceptable for them to wear trousers.<br />
<br />
But, of course, in our gender-oriented society, it was not as simple as that. I feared that, one day, the neighbours would see Colin in a dress. Then that would mean that our friends would find out, which would also mean that Colin's employers would be bound to find out. Colin would lose his job and we would be shunned socially. <br />
<br />
The following day after we had arrived back, Colin returned to work. He looked like a respectable solicitor in his suit, tie and shoes, but I winced at the knowledge that underneath all that he wore a pair of lace panties. He had thrown away his male underthings and would henceforth only wear panties. My efforts to dissuade him were fruitless, so I could only hope no one would ever find out.<br />
<br />
Over the next month, Colin seemed to be completely focused on work again. Until the weekend, which he would spend either dressed or otherwise out shopping for new things. I focused my efforts on my on-line business. If Colin lost his job, I would have to support us both financially.<br />
<br />
Within a few months, Colin had decided that it was time to hook up with other men with the same predelictions as himself and he used the internet to find CD events. At odd weekends, he would disappear with a large amount of luggage and I wouldn't see him again until Sunday night. I quietly wondered what he got up to with his new friends.<br />
<br />
Six months after the fateful cruise, Colin announced that he was going away for a week on one of his CD events. This time, though, he wanted me to go with him! At first, I refused. I had no wish to spend a week amongst a load of men dressed as women, even if one of them was my husband, but Colin pleaded with me. It would mean everything in the world to him if I would come just this one time and if I didn't like it he wouldn't pressure me to attend another event again, he promised.<br />
<br />
Reluctantly, I gave in. He was my husband, the man I loved, and he needed me to support him just for this one time. It was be the one and only time, I vowed, convinced that I would hate it.<br />
<br />
The first day of the event came swiftly upon us and before I knew where I was, I was in a hotel filled with men dressed either in over the top frocks or as more mainstream women. Some of them looked nothing like women whilst others looked more womanly than I did, but most of them looked mostly like women - until you got close up and noticed stray bits of stubble under the make up or a very visible adam's apple.<br />
<br />
The "girls" as our men liked to collectively call themselves, went around together. But I was not alone. Far from it, as most of the "girls" had brought their female wives, girlfriends and significant others with them. We real women stuck together and had drinks and chats whilst our "girls" took part in beauty pageants and other activities laid on for them.<br />
<br />
Amongst the women, I encountered differing attitudes to their man's activities. Cynthia, a lady of upper crust origins whose husband worked as a stockbroker but who was currently strutting about in fishnets and high heels, was clearly unhappy. "He's not the man I married!" she would say, as a kind of mantra "At first, I thought it must be another woman. All that lingerie, and stockings and all that, but when I realised that the other "woman" was him....". Cynthia shook her head sadly.<br />
<br />
Sue, a bubbly hairdresser, held the completely opposite opinion. Her Trev "Makes a bloody brilliant girl. He becomes Tracey and the perfect girlfriend for me. I get the best of both worlds - a man to take care of me and worship me and also a girlfriend to talk to about anything I want".<br />
<br />
Most of the other wives, me included, were kind of in the middle. We were still coming to terms with it all. Some of the women moaned that even though their husbands had been dressing for years - decades in some cases! - they still had no idea how to use make up, put on a bra or walk in high heels properly. Some men, we concluded, make pretty poor specimens of womanhood!<br />
<br />
But not my Colin, I had to admit. He had a staggering amount of clothes and accessories already, even he had only been at it for about seven months. He could already make himself up pretty well without any help from me and he could certainly manage bras and high heels as though they were natural to him. Watching him dress one evening, I was astonished at how quickly and completely he transformed himself into a convincing woman.<br />
<br />
He was, I noticed, a bit of a star at these events. He usually won (or came a close second) the beauty pageants and he turned heads as he walked about the hotel. He was already well known amongst the CD set.<br />
<br />
It was, all in all, a wonderful week. It was not only fun seeing the men clad and behaving as women, but talking and socialising with the wives and sharing our worries and concerns was a real panacea for me. On the last night, we wives all got rather merry, even the uptight Cynthia, and had an enormously enjoyable time. It was a relief to let my hair down.<br />
<br />
But it was time to go back to the real world. Colin, I noticed, was a little morose as he packed away the last of his frocks and loaded up the car for the return trip home. I could sense that his desire to experience womanhood was growing. This could become a problem later, I realised.<br />
<br />
A more immediate problem arose for our boys were at last coming home from their expedition. Colin did not want to risk damaging his relationship with his sons by his dressing up and so he reluctantly put all his things in the loft and out of the way.<br />
<br />
For the three months between the boys returning and their departure for university, Colin reverted to being a man full time but at times I could sense his longing to slip into a frock. To his credit, he managed to avoid any slips, but the day after we dropped the boys off (they were going to the same university thankfully otherwise we would have been on the road all day), Colin's dresses and other things were rescued from the loft.<br />
<br />
Later that evening, Colin was wearing a peach coloured dress and high heels and walking about as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. I looked at him in dismay. This dressing up was getting out of hand. I decided that it was time to talk about it, so on the following day, after we had eaten, before Colin could head upstairs to change into something more feminine, I asked him to sit down.<br />
<br />
"Colin.....this business of you dressing up as a woman. You clearly enjoy it and I have to admit it's been a bit of fun. But it's got to stop". I said firmly.<br />
<br />
Colin's reaction was to burst into tears. I instinctively went to hug him. He said, between sobs, that he would die if he couldn't be allowed to dress up. I told him not to be so silly. It would be a painful wrench for him not to be able to indulge himself, and it wouldn't be easy, I told him, but he would get over it and things would return to normal.<br />
<br />
But Colin shook his head. He was not giving it up and I couldn't make him, he said. I was shaken by these words. The basis of our relationship, which had been so stable since the day we had married, if not before, was changing. I wanted things to go back to the way they were before but Colin didn't. For the first time in many years, we were at odds with each other.<br />
<br />
I played the only card I had left, and it nearly broke my heart to have to resort to it but he had to be made to see sense "Colin, if you don't give up this obsession, I'll......divorce you. I married a man, not a man who dresses as a woman".<br />
<br />
Colin looked at me as if I had just slapped him "You don't understand at all" he said "I don't want to be a man anymore, I want to be a woman!"<br />
<br />
I was once again in shock "Don't be absurd. You aren't a woman. You can never be one. You were born as a man. You don't get to choose what sex you are so we all have to live with being men and women, even if we aren't happy with it!"<br />
<br />
But Colin was defiant "If I choose to live as a woman, no-one can stop me. It's what I want"<br />
<br />
"Colin, if you DO do that, you will lose everything. Your job, your home, your friends, your sons, even me, because what you are suggesting is bonkers!"<br />
<br />
"Not to me, it isn't" he said simply "So, I'm going to do it. Starting tomorrow".<br />
<br />
I stared at him in disbelief. So, this business about being a woman was more important to Colin than our marriage! That was in effect what he was saying. I rushed upstairs, packed a suitcase and left. Colin begged me to stay, but I couldn't. Not after what he had just said. I drove off, leaving him standing on the drive and didn't look back.<br />
<br />
The next few weeks were a kind of limbo. I went back to my mother's house. My father had died two years earlier, so she was glad of my company, although I wasn't in the best of moods alternatively crying or raging against the idiot I had married. I looked into the possibility of divorce. The woman solicitor I saw said I probably had a good case and that I'd probably get the house and a decent amount of alimony. But I decided not to make a firm decision yet. Maybe Colin would come to his senses and agree that he had been foolish.<br />
<br />
To my bewilderment and consternation, Colin made no attempt to contact me during that time.<br />
<br />
The boys had worked out that their parents had had a falling out but when they called me I just said it was a stupid argument but without revealing the real reason why. For some reason, it was important to me that Colin was not exposed to ridicule or shunned by his own sons.<br />
<br />
Three weeks after I had left, I decided that I needed to return to the house - I no longer viewed it as our marital home - in order to collect the rest of my things. I would live with mum for a while, probably divorce Colin and buy my own place with the proceeds, all of which would take time. I went back during the day, as Colin would be at work and at the moment he was last person I wanted to see.<br />
<br />
I was surprised, on arrival, to find Colin's car on the drive. With a sinking heart, I realised that he must be home. It was not really that surprising as if Colin did go to work in a skirt and heels, he wouldn't be employed for much longer at his firm.<br />
<br />
I opened the door to the house to find what I expected - and feared - I would see.<br />
<br />
It was Colin, but he looked nothing like he did when I last saw him. He wore a cream silk blouse, a dark grey skirt that came down to just below his knees, black tights (or stockings) and black court shoes. A grey jacket with a gold broach completed the ensemble.<br />
<br />
What Colin was wearing was no surprise, but the rest of his appearance was for he had had his eyebrows plucked into the classic feminine arch, his ears had been pierced and fitted with gold earrings, his nails had been filed and painted in a dark red shade and he wore full make up and a long black wig.<br />
<br />
He even had a bosom, though I guessed that it must be entirely artificial.<br />
<br />
I couldn't help but look at him. His femme presentation was flawless and exactly right for him. Colin hadn't been silly enough to try and go for a sexy or over the top look. Rather, he had gone for a more mainstream image. He looked and dressed exactly like a sensible lady solicitor of his age.<br />
<br />
Actually, I had to admit that he was quite pretty and had great legs. I was glad I was currently wearing trousers as my own legs would not look as good as his.<br />
<br />
But, I remembered the reason for my visit and it was not to gawp at my husband in his lady things.<br />
<br />
"I've come to get the rest of my things" I told him "I won't be long and then I'll be gone".<br />
<br />
"Maggie, please" Colin said "Won't you stay a while?"<br />
<br />
I wasn't inclined to, but firstly we had things we needed to talk about, like the divorce, and second, I was dying to know how Colin was. A few minutes later Colin and I were sitting having a cup of tea. It was a very odd reunion with him all dressed up. I asked him how he was.<br />
<br />
Colin said that he was better than he expected to be. He had gone to work the day after I had left, dressed as he was now and he had predictably caused a furore. He had been suspended, issued an ultimatum to return to work dressed normally. Colin had refused and been sacked. He said that he would be taking them to court for unfair dismissal. He was currently setting up his own legal practice though that would take some time. He had spoken to the boys and like me had not told them the real reason why we had split up. He missed me and wished I would come home.<br />
<br />
I gave him my news and as I did so realised that I still loved him. He had been really foolish but also incredibly brave. Even now, he was trying to rebuild his life, but in his new persona. He had even assumed a female name, Coleen. He would always be Colin to me.<br />
<br />
He begged me to come home. I knew that he needed me, now more than ever. When we had married all those years ago, we had promised to stay true to each other and to stand with each other "Through better and worse". Well, I reflected that I had had 20 good years of marriage and now I had to accept that with the appearance of "Coleen" we were about to embark on the "worse" bit.<br />
<br />
I moved back in the following day. Mum was sad to see me go but happy that I was going back to my husband. But it was very strange co-existence at first. I had to accept and share my home and even my bed with "Coleen", with her hairless body, her painted nails, her perfume and her fussy, frilly nightdress, and yet remember that this feminised creature was still my husband.<br />
<br />
Until Colin got his new practice sorted out - he was waiting on his severance money from his old firm - he was stuck at home. I got him to wear frocks rather than his lady solicitor outfit. I was also determined to make him do more around the house. He could wash his own clothes and underwear for a start. I also got him dusting, cleaning and hoovering. As usual, Colin was a quick study and soon knew how to do all the household almost as well I as I did.<br />
<br />
Colin eventually got his money and rented a small office out of which to run his new practice. Unusually, he hired a male secretary, Barry. Barry was not bothered that he was working for a transvestite. In fact, he was grateful, as he told me when I popped in to see Colin that he had found it very difficult to get anyone to hire him. There was still a huge stigma around a man being a secretary. Colin was prepared to give him a chance and vice versa. Barry proved to be a loyal and hard working secretary.<br />
<br />
Colin's practice took off. As well as handling the usual legal stuff, Colin had found a niche market in dealing with cases involving transvestites and transexuals. Under the skirts, stockings and high heels, Colin was still a hotshot lawyer. The practice grew and Colin's new partners and staff had to accept that "Coleen" was the boss and could wear what she liked!<br />
<br />
In the meantime, my own internet business was flourishing, so between us, Colin and I easily made enough money to maintain our lifestyle. We had had to tell our boys about "Coleen" but whereas in my childhood cross-dressing was still a big taboo, our boys grew up in a more enlightened age, and were more understanding than we had hoped for. Gradually, they stopped calling Colin "Dad" and began calling him Coleen, which pleased him greatly.<br />
<br />
There were (and always will be) awkward moments between Colin and I. I could live with the idea of "Coleen" but sometimes the reality caused frictions and problems. Take, for example, the occasion when Colin and I had to attend a party to honour the fact that Barry had become engaged to a female secretary. Colin had rushed out and bought himself a gorgeous frock, all in blue silk and ribbon, and dressed himself in it. With his slender, hairless legs, small hands with painted nails and a clutch bag he looked like a million dollars. I wore a dress, heels and make up too and looked positively dowdy beside him. It was the woman who was supposed to dress up and look good. I wasn't very happy with Colin that night.<br />
<br />
And there were many other times. I had married in what would then have been a very reasonable expectation that man and woman would retain their traditional gender roles and dress. Gender roles were changing as women became better educated and could earn, and that was no bad thing. Successful career women with a househusband were becoming more common and accepted. But to genderbend traditional dress was another thing. When we had been married we had been proclaimed as "Man and Wife", but now my husband was opting out of being a man where did that leave me? I certainly wasn't a man and how can I be a wife when there is no man? This was a question I had no answer to.<br />
<br />
Looking at Colin getting into another frock, slipping on a pair of heels or sitting at his vanity to apply his make up, it seemed incredible that this man, who had been brought up as a male for the first 40 odd years of his life, could so suddenly and completely switch over to femininity. I remembered years ago, when I had been a schoolgirl, I had hated being made to wear the thick, heavy grey skirt and big clumsy shoes that had defined my gender. I couldn't have imagined any boy ever wanting to wear such things. It was startling to realise that, based on my own experiences so far, there was probably at least one boy at that school who wanted nothing more than to wear that skirt.<br />
<br />
And, what did the future hold? Colin now looked so convincing as a woman, and he had begun taking hormones so that he could grow real breasts, reduce his musculature and give himself so more womanly curves and he had even taken to wearing a corset of all things, that he was bound to get asked out by men. Where would it all lead to? To him dating men, maybe even, after first divorcing me, marrying one and becoming a real wife. It was mind boggling, but not impossible.<br />
<br />
As I struggled to come to terms with the changes in my husband, it occurred to me that I needed to change too! If my husband was a woman, then the logical thing was for me, if not to become a man, but more masculine. It was quite appealing, actually to eschew the femininity that my husband had hijacked. So, I got myself male clothing, and determined to wear it all of the time.<br />
<br />
Colin loved it. It was, apparently, his fantasy that he should switch and become the woman and wife, whilst I took the man's role and dress. Now it was my fantasy too. With my hair cut short, I looked a lot like a man. With both of us looking convincing in our new genders, we could remain as man and wife, but with me as the man and him as the wife.<br />
<br />
The End<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-87306934035031830212012-07-29T08:24:00.000-07:002012-07-29T08:24:39.600-07:00The Two BonniesRalph Perrott, aged eleven, sat back in the limousine that was taking him to school, happy and contented. As the only son of a billionnaire, he went to the best school and he had an army of servants to look after his every need. At school, he was treated with the utmost respect, even by the teaching staff, for his father was chairman of the board of governors.<br />
<br />
He would be at school in only a few minutes, ready to be feted and fawned upon by his fellow pupils. His girlfriend, Portia, was a real beauty and head of the cheerleading squad. Yes, life was good.<br />
<br />
His pleasant thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of screeching tyres. Another car had shot out of a sidestreet and was now blocking the way. Parsons, the chaffeur, used the horn to register his impatience. But the car refused to give way. Parsons tried to back the car up, only to find his path blocked by another car.<br />
<br />
Suddenly, a figure jumped out of the car ahead and raced over to the limousine. The slim, lithe figure brandished a firearm and gestured for Parsons to get out of the car. The chaffeur reluctantly obeyed. Ralph was frightened. His fear heightened when the door nearest to him was opened and another slender figure grabbed his arm. The two figures dressed in black wore balaclavas so it was impossible to identify them.<br />
<br />
Ralph tried to resist the figure who was trying to pull him from the car, but his strength was not equal to theirs. He was really scared now. Then his kidnapper put something resembling a cloth over Ralph's mouth and everything went black.<br />
<br />
Ralph gently stirred. His eyes focused uncertainly on a dingy white ceiling. His was lying on his back, he realised, with his arms and legs secured by ropes to each corner of the bed.<br />
<br />
He was also, he realised, completely naked.<br />
<br />
Ralph struggled against the ropes but it was hopeless. He was securely bound and quite helpless. Ralph guessed that he had been robbed and left here, so he began to shout for help.<br />
<br />
That did something. A door that Ralph could not see from his current position was opened and a woman dressed in a black jumpsuit entered the room. She marched up to Ralph and slapped him about the face "Shut it, you wretch!"<br />
<br />
Ralph was shocked by what had just happened. Never before in his life, even when he had been really naughty, had anyone hit him.<br />
<br />
The woman grabbed his face, roughly. "If you make another sound, I'll cut your balls off. Understand?"<br />
<br />
Terrified now, Ralph nodded weakly. The woman released his face and left. Ralph was in tears. He was cut off from the security and deference of his usual environment and at the mercy of a woman.<br />
<br />
Ralph now realised that both of the people involved in his kidnap were women. But what did they want and when would they let him go?<br />
<br />
The next 24 hours seemed to last forever. The same woman he had seen earlier came to his room with food and spoon fed Ralph like he was a baby. If Ralph tried to talk to her, he got his face slapped again. The time dragged really slowly. From the room beyond his own, Ralph could hear people moving about and the occasional murmur of voices although frustratingly Ralph could not hear what they were saying.<br />
<br />
When Ralph needed to go to the bathroom, which happened on two occasions, the woman brought a chamberpot and Ralph had to use that. He found being naked and having to do his most intimate business in front of this woman most demeaning.<br />
<br />
Ralph eventually drifted off to sleep. He was abruptly awoken the following morning by the sound of raised voices. His kidnappers, as far as he could guess, were having a blazing row. About what, he had no way of knowing. It went on for about an hour before subsiding into silence.<br />
<br />
Suddenly, the door to his room was wrenched open. The woman entered, still dressed in that jumpsuit, with a stern look on her face. She held a knife in her right hand. Ralph's heart was in his mouth. She was going to kill him! Ralph pleaded with her not to kill him.<br />
<br />
The woman ignored him. Swiftly and deftly, she used the knife to cut the ropes that bound Ralph to the bed "Get up. Now" she ordered Ralph. Relieved that he was not going to die (at least not yet anyway), Ralph hastily obeyed her. The woman lightly pushed him into the other room.<br />
<br />
Ralph, used to palatial mansions and gleaming classrooms, had never been in such a dump. It was a small, dingy, sparsely furnished room that was smaller than his dog's kennel. The television was on. There was a news report. About him. A female newscaster was saying:<br />
<br />
"Ralph Perrott III, son and heir of the wealthy industrial magnate, Ralph Perrott II, is still missing following his dramatic kidnapping forty eight hours ago. The police report that they still have no leads on the kidnappers, who have still not as yet issued a ransom demand. An intense man hunt is still underway. Turning to other news.."<br />
<br />
The woman prodded Ralph forwards into another room, in which another woman, who looked identical in every way to the woman behind him, was running a bath. Ralph realised that his kidnappers must be sisters and twin sisters at that.<br />
<br />
The woman with the knife expertly removed the last bits of rope from Ralph's wrists and ankles. The other woman had finished running the bath and had poured in some liquids out of bottles into it.<br />
<br />
The woman with the knife pointed with it at the bath "Get in" she instructed him "and scrub yourself well!". Ralph eagerly climbed in for he had never felt so dirty. The bath was good and soothing. The lady with the blade stayed and watched over him.<br />
<br />
Ralph scrubbed himself well. Perhaps, he decided, too well, for all his body hair seemed to be coming off! It formed a black scum on the surface of the water. His minder peered over at the sight, smiled a little, and then ordered Ralph out of the bath.<br />
<br />
She handed Ralph a towel and he dried himself. He was disconcerted to find that all of his body hair was gone. He was hairless all over, which made him feel even more self-conscious. He was bewildered. How had this happened?<br />
<br />
Once dry, Ralph wrapped the towel around himself. At least he was no longer completely naked. The woman ordered him into the other room, the room with the television. Her twin was already seated.<br />
<br />
Ralph was pushed towards a chair "Sit down". Ralph took a seat. The other woman sat down beside her sister and Ralph found himself facing both women.<br />
<br />
"Ok, Ralph. You're allowed to talk now. I guess you have some questions for us" one of the women said to him.<br />
<br />
"What's going on?" Ralph asked them "Why have you kidnapped me? Who are you?" The questions came out of his mouth in a rush.<br />
<br />
The women smiled at him "We've kidnapped you. Why? Because your father is very rich and we are very poor. He'll want you back so we'll sell you back to him for a lot of money. Who we are you will never know, but you can call us Bonnie. Bonnie one and Bonnie two".<br />
<br />
"When will you let me go?" Ralph asked.<br />
<br />
"Ah, not for some time, I'm afraid. We need to get you out of the country first before making our ransom demand".<br />
<br />
Ralph felt like laughing at the sisters' naivety. His face was on every television screen in the country and in every newspaper. What were they going to do, waltz up with him to an airport and try and board a plane. They'd be arrested as soon as they arrived. Then they would be in prison and Ralph would be restored to his old life.<br />
<br />
But Bonnie one (?) had not finished yet "It won't be easy to smuggle you out of the country but we've come up with a plan that is worthy of us. The authorities will be looking out for anyone escorting a boy. What they won't be looking for is a girl of about your age and build!"<br />
<br />
Ralph was confused. What on earth were they talking about? Were they going to substitute a girl in his place? What good would that do?<br />
<br />
The two women smiled at his confusion. "So, Ralph, that means you'll have to become a girl for a while. Don't worry, it won't be long, just as long as it takes to get to the airport, make the flight and get you to our new hideout.<br />
<br />
"What?! I'm not pretending to be a girl!"<br />
<br />
Bonnie one held her blade threateningly "Oh, yes you are. Or else."<br />
<br />
Bonnie two said "With that build and his complexion, he should make a very convincing girl".<br />
<br />
"Yes" said Bonnie one "So lets get him into his new clothes".<br />
<br />
Bonnie two reached for a case and opened it up to reveal a pile of female clothing and underwear. She began to sort through it, and a few minutes later handed Ralph his new clothing. He was ordered into the bedroom to change into it.<br />
<br />
In tears, Ralph dumped the clothes on the bed. For the first time, he was not tied to a bed and he was alone so his mind turned to escape. But there was no window. No obvious means of escape. That meant he would have to put on the girls' things.<br />
<br />
He picked up what was supposed to be his underwear. A strip of white lace. It was a thong. He was going to have to wear a thong! Blushing, he struggled into the undergarment. It was really uncomfortable to wear. There was a matching bra, which, with difficulty, he put on. It felt really weird to be wearing one. Wrong.<br />
<br />
There were a pair of white frilled ankle socks, which he slipped onto his feet. There was also a short denim mini-skirt with a big red love heart on the front which Ralph put on. He felt ridiculous wearing a skirt. Then there was a pink angora sweater with white love hearts on it. Ralph pulled it on, feeling very foolish. Finally, there was a pair of flat black shoes with large white bows on.<br />
<br />
Feeling silly dressed as he was, Ralph went back into the other room. He expected the two women to laugh hysterically at him, but they didn't. They sat him down and got to work on him. False breasts of about the right size for a girl of his age were inserted into his bra cups to give him a bosom. His fingernails and toenails were filed, shaped and had a thick coat of pink nail varnish applied to them. His eyebrows were shaped into a feminine arch. His hair was washed, dyed blonde and styled into a boyish bob. A pink ribbon was then tied into it. Ralph's face was given a light cover of make up and a pink lipstick was applied to his lips.<br />
<br />
Ralph had to sit and endure all this, knowing that protesting or resisting would do no good. When they had finished with him they took him over to a full length mirror. Ralph was astonished at his own reflection, for he looked very pretty and feminine. He would easily pass for an eleven year old girl, although he looked younger with the little girl pinkness that dominated his current presentation.<br />
<br />
He realised with a sinking heart that the two Bonnies ingenious plan would work. All traces of Ralph Perrott III had been hidden beneath a veneer of femininity. And it had taken little time and effort to turn him from being a boy to looking like a girl.<br />
<br />
It was very strange to suddenly have lumps in his chest, to find his chest restrained by a bra and his waist encircled by a skirt. His vision was mostly filled with pink, pretty things. It was very odd indeed to suddenly become inducted into girlish dress and appearance.<br />
<br />
The two Bonnies were very pleased. Bonnie two took a photo of Ralph with a digital camera and went away into another room that Ralph had not seen yet whilst her sister gave Ralph a crash course in feminine deportment. Ralph was schooled to make small, dainty steps instead of his usual masculine stride.<br />
<br />
Bonny two returned waving a booklet triumphantly, which she handed to Ralph. Ralph opened it up to discover it was a passport. It showed his new feminised profile and was in the name of Tammy Victoria Lee. The document looked very authentic and Ralph guessed that Bonny two was an accomplished forger.<br />
<br />
Bonny one handed him something else. A purse. A dainty thing all in pale pink with a silver clasp and a thin strap. Embarressed, Ralph slung it over his shoulder. Bonny one took his passport from him and added it to those belonging to the two sisters before ordering him into the bedroom and locking him in "We need to get into our outfits now and we don't want you getting any ideas about escaping" they told him.<br />
<br />
Half an hour later, Ralph was released and was stunned to see that the sisters had shed their intimidating jumpsuits and were dressed in frocks and high heels. Their hair had been styled in a very feminine manner and that they wore full make up.<br />
<br />
Ralph almost applauded their cleverness, for they were as well disguised as Ralph was. By assuming a very feminine appearance, nobody would take them for being criminals. <br />
<br />
Bonnie one took Ralph aside whilst her sister called for a taxi "OK, this is it. The most dangerous phase of our operation. You will stay silent and will not speak until I tell you. If you try to escape or shout for help so help me I will slit your throat. Do we understand each other?"<br />
<br />
Ralph knew that every word Bonnie one said was true. He would be dead unless he did exactly what she said, so he nodded. Bonnie patted him on the head.<br />
<br />
The taxi arrived and took Ralph and the sisters to the airport. The taxi driver, a middle aged man, looked appreciatively at the two glamorous women and the pretty girl. On the way, he had tried to engage Ralph in conversation but Ralph had remained silent. The taxi driver chuckled "Hmm, shy little lady ain't she? My own little girl was just like that at her age".<br />
<br />
Ralph longed to cry out his real name, but dared not.<br />
<br />
At the airport, Ralph noted that his kidnappers were finally showing signs of nerves as the trio got nearer to the flight control desk. He prayed that some vigilant staff member would penetrate his disguise or see that his passport was false. A female controller glanced at Ralph's passport and then looked at Ralph for a long moment and waved him and his companions through, much to Ralph's disappointment.<br />
<br />
The flight (to Europe Ralph had learned) was uneventful. Ralph had to sit between the two Bonnies so he had absolutely no freedom of action. The other passengers didn't give him a second glance, just assuming he was in fact the cute looking girl he appeared to be.<br />
<br />
When the plane touched down there was another nervous period going through passport control on the other side. There were posters with Ralph's face on, but no-one in that airport associated the missing billionnaire's son with the pretty young Tammy Lee and so the party were allowed to proceed.<br />
<br />
The Bonnie's hideout was a flat in Warsaw in Poland. It was nicer than the last hideout, Ralph thought. The sisters quickly shed their overly feminine attire and reverted to their jumpsuits. Ralph looked down at his own girlish outfit. He could take it off now! He began to pull off his ridiculous pink sweater.<br />
<br />
"What are you doing young lady?" Bonny one asked him sharply.<br />
<br />
"Taking off these stupid clothes. You said I could once we got here" Ralph answered.<br />
<br />
Bonnie one shook her head "There's been a change of plan. You're staying as a girl".<br />
<br />
"What! But you said...."<br />
<br />
"Never mind what I said. You look nice as a girl so we've decided to keep you that way until you are ransomed".<br />
<br />
"I don't want to stay dressed like this! I feel ridiculous!"<br />
<br />
"You look very sweet. You'll get used to it".<br />
<br />
So Ralph had to stay in skirts. He hated it. Having to wear a skirt and frilly lacy things!<br />
<br />
Bonny two fired off a ransom demand that same evening. All the sisters could do now was wait.<br />
<br />
A day later, a response came back. They need proof that they held Ralph and that he was still alive so for a brief time Ralph was restored to his former appearance and made to make an appearance that was filmed by the sisters and sent over the internet.<br />
<br />
A few days later, the terms were agreed. Twenty million dollars was wired to the sisters. Bonny two was an expert with computers and financial transactions so the money would never be traced by the authorities. With a smile, Bonnie two closed her laptop "All done! We can proceed to the final phase of our operation".<br />
<br />
Bonnie one smiled. She glanced over at Ralph who was at that moment dressed in a yellow frock with a large white bow at the back, white stockings and yellow shoes. "Tammy sweetie, come over here".<br />
<br />
The boy obeyed.<br />
<br />
"Turn around and close your eyes" Bonnie one instructed him. Apprehensively, the boy did as he was told. Bonnie one pressed the chloroform over the boy's face until he passed out.<br />
<br />
The sisters dumped Ralph in the boot of their car and fled, abandoning their car and their flat, and disappearing off the face of the earth. The police turned up hours later amused to find a boy dressed in a pretty frock and hair ribbons. Ralph was restored to male clothing and to his family, but he would never forget the time he had to spend in feminine attire.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-17028785116538978722012-07-21T14:37:00.000-07:002012-07-21T14:37:20.481-07:00"Boy dressed as a Girl!" (Letter to the Editor - Sept 1921)Dear Sir,<br />
<br />
I have an amusing account of a time when my brother was obliged to don the clothes of the so-called "weaker sex" about twelve years ago.<br />
<br />
Our father being far away on business, our mother took my brother, Philip, and I on a visit to my mother's sister, Aunt Dorothy. Aunt Dorothy was a spinster and an independently minded woman. She owned her own clothing outfitters, specialising in dainty and gay garments for girls aged between 6 and 12 and made a good living at it.<br />
<br />
We arrived at Aunt Dorothy's at the appointed time, for she was a stickler for good timekeeping, and we admired the fine outfits that were displayed in the shop windows. They were of exquisite quality and prettiness.<br />
<br />
None of this interested Philip of course. He went instead to look at Aunt Dorothy's motorised delivery van. Such vehicles were still comparatively rare in 1909, as I recall. As we ladies had tea and a chat, there was a commotion from the yard. When we went to investigate, it was to find that Philip had tipped over an oil can and that it was all over his fine suit.<br />
<br />
Aunt Dorothy immediately took charge, ordering her maid to run a bath and to get Philip out of his soiled things. Whilst Philip was being scrubbed clean, Aunt Dorothy looked at his ruined clothing and decided that it could be laundered, but the process would take some time. This raised the problem of what to dress Philip in for the time being.<br />
<br />
Aunt Dorothy was a firm believer not in equality between the sexes but of the greater ability of women. Hence, she employed only women in her business. Even the driver of the delivery fan was female. Other than Philip's own clothes, which were currently unwearable, there was not a stitch of male clothing in the place.<br />
<br />
Frowning, Aunt Dorothy took a box down from a shelf and opened it up to reveal a white frock with lovely embroidered flower detail and delicate white lace on the sleeves and hem of the skirted portion and pronounced that it would probably fit Philip quite well. I must confess I did giggle at the idea of my brother having to wear such a pretty dress!<br />
<br />
And not only did he have to wear the dress, but everything else that went with it! He had a to wear a lace trimmed chemise and then submit to wearing a silk blue corset that brought his waist in by several inches. He also had to wear white silk stockings and, worst of all, frilly, be-ribboned knickers before being put into the frock proper. It must have been deeply humiliating for a boy to find himself dressed in such a way and I am afraid that I was in hysterics throughout the whole process.<br />
<br />
But it did not stop there. Aunt Dorothy decided to go further. In the dainty frock, stockinged legs and the frilly undergarments that peeked out from beneath the frock, Philip immediately looked more like a girl but his head was still that of a boy. A wig of long blonde tresses was placed on his head and Philip had to submit to the indignity of having a white ribbon tied in it.<br />
<br />
The addition of the wig and the cute white ribbon brought about a startling transformation, for Philip now looked exactly like a girl! His delicate features and pale complexion greatly aided his appearance en femme. Finally, he was made to wear white silk gloves and white satin slippers with white bows on the front.<br />
<br />
He was left, dressed as he was, and looking very girlish. He was told to sit still and not to soil his gloves at all, which I found very amusing as this was all part of the conditioning we girls received to turn us into ladies. I was also highly entertained by his acute embarressment that his pretty knickers were on show, no matter what he did to try to conceal them.<br />
<br />
After some hours, Philip's original clothes were now wearable again, although he would need new ones once we returned home. Needless to say, Philip was eager to escape his feminine bondage and resume masculine attire but to his horror, mother decided that as a punishment for ruining his clothes he would have to wear what he had on now for the return journey home.<br />
<br />
Philip quickly realised that his best hope of avoiding ridicule was to be the girl that he appeared to be with as good a grace as he could muster. It was funny to see him affecting a girlish flounce as he walked. He attracted much attention on the way to the train station and on the train due to the pretty clothes he now wore and especially those frilly knickers, which he could do nothing to hide from view.<br />
<br />
Finally, for Philip the ordeal was over and he was restored to his boys' things once we got home. However, the outfit he had worn was not returned to Aunt Dorothy. Aunt Dorothy had gifted the garments to mother who promised Philip that in the even that he should misbehave he would find himself wearing the costume again. Needless to say, Philip's behaviour was greatly improved from that point onwards and regrettably there were no further occasions where Philip was required to don the outfit again.<br />
<br />
Still, it was all a highly entertaining episode, as I am sure you will agree.<br />
<br />
Yours<br />
<br />
Emeline Willoughby<br />
<br />
<br />Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-58173676945864850232012-07-21T11:39:00.000-07:002012-07-21T11:39:05.026-07:00Suzy takes on the World - Part Thirteen - The New FamilyKevin Connor was stunned by what he saw when he was invited round to his girlfriend Suzy's house for tea.<br />
<br />
First off, he was amazed that Suzy's family suddenly owned a house in the best area of town. When he first met Suzy, she had been living on some council estate. How did they come to live in a house that was easily worth half a million pounds?<br />
<br />
Second, the household was female-dominated. Suzy and her mum ruled to roost. Suzy's younger brother was much too young to have any influence. Kevin seemed to recall that Suzy's father had abandoned the family some years earlier and that Suzy had an elder brother. But no-one had seen Damian for months.....<br />
<br />
The place made Kevin feel uncomfortable. A house without a man. But Kevin was also uncomfortable because he knew that out of himself and Suzy, Suzy was now the dominant partner. Most of the time, she was more masculine than he was.<br />
<br />
But what Suzy showed him had freaked him out completely. She took him upstairs to some kind of "nursery". The occupant was dressed in the manner of a little girl. Frock, ribbons and everything. But the size of the "girl" made it obvious that she wasn't. A girl that is. Kevin guessed that this must actually be Damian. How the hell had they got big, tough Damian to dress like that?<br />
<br />
It didn't matter. Suzy and her mum had done it. Kevin realised that he had been shown the sissified Damian to tell him that if such a thing could happen to Damian, it could certainly happen to Kevin, who was nowhere near as hard as Damian.<br />
<br />
Suzy took him by the hand and led him to another room. Suzy strode confidently, whilst Kevin followed, feeling awkward and like he was the girl. The room was simply furnished. A dress and some underwear lay on the bed.<br />
<br />
"This is your room, when you are staying over" Suzy explained "Tea will be served in fifteen minutes" She pointed to the clothes on the bed "Put those on and make yourself look nice" she ordered. She left, closing the door behind her, before Kevin could protest.<br />
<br />
Kevin knew better than to protest anyway. Suzy was smarter AND stronger than him. Sighing, he reluctantly took off what he was wearing and put on the black lace panties, matching bra, nylons and then the purple dress which reached down to about mid-thigh on him. He found a pair of high heeled purple shoes at the foot of the bed which he guessed must go with the dress, so he slipped them on.<br />
<br />
Kevin studied himself in the mirror, which he supposed all girls must do to see if they looked right, and cringed when saw his body clothed in a dress, his legs encased in shiny nylon and his aching feet shod in women's high heels. Without any wig or make up, he looked like a boy in a dress or a boy whose head had been stuck onto the body of a girl.<br />
<br />
Kevin was only glad of two things. Firstly, that non-one but Suzy and her mum would see him dressed like this, not like the last two times!, and second, that Damian looked even more ridiculous than he did.<br />
<br />
Kevin went down to dinner as best he could in those heels. Suzy and her mum were already there, wearing shirts and trousers so that the only skirted person seated at the table was actually a male. Kevin felt acutely embarressed at this knowledge. Nothing was said, although mother and daughter exchanged glances.<br />
<br />
Dinner was served by a maid. But this maid was no woman as was evident from his large hands and body. The maid was a large man. Who knew what he had been before he had ended up in this position, but now he was wearing a maid's cap and apron and serving the masters of the house - the women.<br />
<br />
Everyone waited until the maid had departed. Suzy smiled at Kevin's quizzical stares. "That was my Dad" she explained "He ran off with another woman a long time ago, but she grew tired of him and dropped him. When he heard Mum had inherited this house, he came back with his tail between his legs and begged to be taken back. He even promised that he would do anything as long as mum took him back, so we took him up on his promise and turned him into our maid. He's come on very well, don't you think?"<br />
<br />
Kevin didn't quite know what to think. He was sitting at the dinner table wearing a frock, nylons and high heels whilst the ladies wore traditional men's attire. He had just been served dinner by the "man of the house" who was dressed as a maidservant and who had to behave accordingly. And upstairs, the other male of the household (other than Suzy's infant brother) was playing with his dolls in the nursery!<br />
<br />
Was it a madhouse. Or was this the future of the modern family?<br />
<br />
Once the dishes and glasses had been cleared away by the maid, Suzy led Kevin to the sitting room, commenting on how pretty he looked in his dress. She bade Kevin sit down and he did so, being careful to arrange his skirts. It was disconcerting how easily he was adapting to femininity.<br />
<br />
To his shock, Suzy got down on one knee and proposed to him! He was surprised and shocked and unable to speak.<br />
<br />
"Yes is the word you're trying to find, darling!" Suzy prompted him.<br />
<br />
Kevin finally found his voice. To his annoyance, it was squeaky, almost girlish "But....we can't get married...we're too young!"<br />
<br />
Suzy shrugged "You're right. We won't actually get married until after I graduate from university and get a job to support us both, and that's several years away. But we'll be engaged until then".<br />
<br />
"But....I'm the man. I should be the one out earning!"<br />
<br />
Suzy shook her head "With your grades, you'll never get into uni. You let me worry about earning the money".<br />
<br />
Kevin knew she had him there. His grades were so bad, he'd be lucky to get a job at all, let alone a graduate job that Suzy would walk into.<br />
<br />
Before Kevin could say another word, Suzy popped a tiny diamond ring onto his finger and kissed him. "There! Now we're engaged".<br />
<br />
Kevin studied the shiny ring on his finger. It was rather pretty and was moreover a perfect fit. The more he thought about it, the more he realised that maybe his future wouldn't be so bad. He would be married to a successful woman who would probably be worth a million by age 30. She would treat him well, as long as he conformed to his role as the devoted husband and homemaker.<br />
<br />
Suzy's mum began speaking, saying that once he had sat - and failed - his exams in the summer, he could come and live with them on a more or less permanent basis. He would have to make an effort to make himself more presentable though. He would need to wear pretty frocks, some sparkly jewellery and start using make up. His wavy hair should be allowed to grow long so that it could be styled into a more feminine fashion. Suzy's mum would teach him how to keep a house, as he would be doing later for Suzy.<br />
<br />
Suzy looked on in satisfaction as Kevin's face fell. He would have to assume the traditional female role, and her clothes, because he was thick, lazy and no longer stronger than Suzy. He was going to make a beautiful and no doubt blushing bride before he became a feminised and submissive househusband.<br />
<br />
But Suzy had no qualms or doubts about this role-reversal. For this was the future, not just for her family, but one day for all families around the world!<br />
<br />
THE BEGINNINGRussellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-7402815461116782352012-07-05T13:34:00.001-07:002012-07-05T13:34:22.781-07:00Suzy takes on the World - Part Twelve - RIP Princess"Come on baby Rosemary, open wide!"<br />
<br />
The "baby girl" (in reality, Suzy's errant elder brother Damian who had been put into diapers and baby frocks) kept her mouth shut and shook her bonnet clad head.<br />
<br />
Suzy sighed and nodded to her mother, who jammed a pin into "Rosemary's" bare neck. It had the desired effect, for the baby was forced to open "her" mouth long enough for Suzy to jam the baby bottle of warm milk into "her" mouth and kept it there until it was drained. Tears of rage and frustration burst forth from the feminised, babified boy.<br />
<br />
Mother and Daughter nodded in satisfaction and left Rosemary trapped within her playpen and nursery.<br />
<br />
Normally, their next call would have been upon the other resident (and owner) of the house, Mr Lancaster, aka Princess, who positively adored dressing and acting just like a little girl. But a tragedy had occurred only the previous day.<br />
<br />
Mr Lancaster, much to his regret, could not always dress and behave like a small girl. He had had had business interests that meant that he had to resume the persona and dress of the man he had been forced to be for most of his life. One such trip had had to be made yesterday to his solicitors' sign some papers. <br />
<br />
Had he gone straight home after the meeting, he might still be alive. But he had passed a boutique for little girls and could not resist going in. The boutique had been deserted except for a very understanding shop owner who had assured him that she could certainly obtain for him some of the delightful outfits he had seen in her store, in his size, and even have them delivered discreetly to his home.<br />
<br />
Upon leaving the boutique, Mr Lancaster's mind had been so preoccupied with the thought of the wonderful outfits Princess could wear that he paid no heed to the traffic - and was run down by the number 39 bus. The bus had been travelling at such a speed that it's unlikely he would have known much about his demise.<br />
<br />
Suzy's mum had been upset and so had Suzy herself. Princess had been that rare breed of man who was in tune with his femininity and eager to express it. He had been wretchedly unlucky not to have been born a female in the first place.<br />
<br />
It did not take too long for Mr Lancaster's relatives (who had not visited him for years) to come out of the woodwork to claim their share of his wealth. There were more than a dozen of them. Mum and Suzy were worried for if Mr Lancaster had left his home and wealth to his relatives or even if they contested the will, as they were sure to do, Suzy's family would be homeless as Mum was only an employee of Mr Lancaster, not his wife or even his girlfriend.<br />
<br />
There would also be the problem of "Rosemary". If they lost the house, they would have no choice but to allow Damian to resume masculinity. He might even go to the Police about the way he had been treated.<br />
<br />
First things first though. Princess's funeral had to be arranged. Mum was determined to be in charge and got her way. She knew Princess better than anyone. Princess would want to go to her maker as the Princess she had always wished to be, so she was dressed in a gorgeous white gown that sparkled with tiny pink diamonds, with layer upon layer of silk petticoats. Her hands were gloved, her feet were shod with satin slippers, a string of pearls was placed around her neck and a blonde wig and diamond tiara placed on her head.<br />
<br />
Princess was placed in the coffin dressed as she was and nobody but Mother and Suzy knew. Princess would have been very happy. The funeral went off about as well as could be expected, what with the relatives arguing over who was to have what.<br />
<br />
The will, when it was read, left most of Princess's money divided amongst his relatives. But as for the house and its contents, by far the least valuable assets, this was left to Suzy's mum. There was outrage amongst the relatives. They resolved to contest the will! They would drag Suzy's mum through the courts and ruin her!<br />
<br />
Mum sat calmly whilst these threats were being levelled at her. Then she nodded to the solicitor, who activated a video recording. It showed to the relatives the real Mr Lancaster, daintily clad as a sweet little girl, skipping and playing with his dolls.<br />
<br />
The room went deathly quiet. Mum stood up and addressed the relatives. Yes, what they had just seen had been real. Filmed only a week before Mr Lancaster's demise. His death had been tragic but the real tragedy had been that he had been forced to live a lie his whole life - as a masculine man - when in his heart all he had ever wanted was to be a very feminine girl. So now they knew the truth. Whether they wanted anyone else, like one of the national newspapers for example, knowing about it was up to them. Mum only wanted the house. Surely that was worth her silence?<br />
<br />
The relatives hastily agreed. They did not want this family secret ever seeing the light of day! They left in indecent haste.<br />
<br />
Mum smiled broadly once the last of them had departed. Thank goodness they had believed her, for she could never have betrayed her late employer's secret to the gutter press. Just as importantly, her family now had a permanent home.<br />
<br />
She took one of Suzy's big hands "We now have a real home and it just happens to have a room that is just perfect for a little girl! What do you say to baby Rosemary being upgraded to a small girl?"<br />
<br />
Suzy smiled broadly by way of reply.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-7631863818445660142012-07-01T11:54:00.003-07:002012-07-01T11:54:51.459-07:00Suzy takes on the World - Part Eleven - Gym'll Fix itAfter his disturbing and frightening nightmare, Kevin Conner became resolved to re-assert the dominant, masculine role in the relationship with his girlfriend, Suzy, who seemed to have usurped that role for herself.<br />
<br />
He got dressed, in his boys' school uniform, and went to school. Suzy had texted him, asking him to meet her between classes. Kevin ignored it. It was time that he called the shots and that she did what she was told.<br />
<br />
A fuming Suzy caught up him as he was having lunch with his mates. They had been ribbing him mercilessly about his appearance at the Prom in a dress. Kevin knew that the ribbing wouldn't last and the episode would be forgotten - as long as he maintained his masculine persona.<br />
<br />
There was NO WAY Kevin Conner would be caught wearing a dress ever again!<br />
<br />
Finally, Kevin's mates disappeared and it was just Kevin and Suzy. Kevin was glad to see that she was angry as a hive of bees that had just had a stick poked in their home. It gave the edge. It gave him control.<br />
<br />
Suzy sat down opposite Kevin. It annoyed Kevin immensely that his girlfriend (so-called) never bothered to wear a skirt, or make up or high heels. It was time she did so.<br />
<br />
Suzy didn't bother with niceties "Where the hell were you? 11:30 outside the Tuck Shop, I said. I showed. You didn't" she snapped accusingly.<br />
<br />
Kevin shrugged nonchalantly "I was busy. Listen Suzy, I've made a few decisions about our relationship".<br />
<br />
Suzy looked puzzled "Really? Like what sort of decisions".<br />
<br />
"It isn't working" Kevin said flatly "I want a girlfriend who will dress right for me, wear perfume and make up for me, and be a real girl. Right now, that isn't you".<br />
<br />
"You mean doll myself up like that trollop, Belinda Fox? Not on your life!" Suzy said with such force that Kevin recoiled. And then shuddered as he realised that Suzy was gaining the upper hand over him again.<br />
<br />
Suzy stood up to display her magnificent physique. Her large biceps, her muscled torso and thick legs. "You think that I should wear a skirt? OK, big boy". Suzy paused to whip a pink card out of a pocket in her trousers "Meet me here after school!"good<br />
<br />
Kevin picked up the card and studied it "Hey, this is a ladies' gym! I can't go in there!"<br />
<br />
But Suzy was already striding away "I know the owner well" she called back "She'll make an exception in your case. Don't keep me hanging!"<br />
<br />
Kevin was determined to put Suzy in her place and so he went along to this Cheryl's Gym after school. Suzy was already in the reception area, talking to an older woman who had a body as incredible as Suzy's was. Suzy glanced at her watch in disapproval as Kevin entered.<br />
<br />
"Cheryl, this is my boyfriend, Kevin Conner". Kevin and Cheryl shook hands and she almost crushed his in her vicelike grip.<br />
<br />
"How do you do, Kevin. Suzy's told me a lot about you! I don't normally allow men to use my gym but as Suzy is one of my dearest friends and you are her boyfriend....go right ahead!"<br />
<br />
"Thanks Cheryl! I owe you one" said Suzy with sincerity "Can we get Kevin something suitable to wear?"<br />
<br />
Cheryl smiled "I'm sure I can arrange something. Come along with me, young man".<br />
<br />
Cheryl took the young man into her office. Cheryl assessed Kevin's size and build and pulled some articles of clothing out of a closet. Kevin looked at them in dismay. A lavender coloured T-Shirt, a pair of white jogging bottoms with a pink stripe running down the legs and a pair of pale pink trainers. Cheryl looked at his face and shrugged as if to say "This is a ladies gym after all, that's all there is".<br />
<br />
Reluctantly, Kevin changed into the gear, which was clearly meant for women, and felt foolish.<br />
<br />
Cheryl escorted him down some stairs and into a gym that more resembled a men's boxing club than a gym for women. He was intimidated by the sheer number of tall, muscular amazons pumping iron. Then he was embarassed when they chuckled at what he was wearing.<br />
<br />
Cheryl smiled at his discomforture, slapped him manfully on the shoulder, and left him alone with Suzy. Suzy had meantime changed into a weightlifters' outfit, all in blue.<br />
<br />
Suzy looked Kevin over. He was strong, even for a boy, and cute. A small part of her wished she did not have to do what she was about to do to his male ego....<br />
<br />
Suzy started him easy on the exercise bikes. She let him get used to the machine and the pedalling before jumping onto a machine herself "OK, macho man, let's see how which one of us can last the longest!" she gibed.<br />
<br />
The two pedalled and pedalled for all they worth. Half an hour later, they were still pedalling furiously. Suzy was quietly impressed at how well Kevin was doing. But he was still no match for her. Five minutes later, Kevin began to flag and then had to stop. Suzy was still pedalling strongly.<br />
<br />
After giving him time to get his breath back, and to take on some water, Suzy led him over to a set of weights. There were twenty five kilos on each end.<br />
<br />
"OK" said Suzy "If you can lift that, and keep it lifted for sixty seconds...I'll agree to wear a skirt from now on".<br />
<br />
Kevin studied the weight for a long time, and then began to lift it. He got about halfway, when his muscles gave out and he had to drop it with a anguished cry.<br />
<br />
Without hesitation, Suzy picked up the weight and held it above her head for two minutes before gently lowering it to the ground.<br />
<br />
Next, Suzy made Kevin do press ups but with the added weight of having Suzy riding him as if he was a horse. Kevin only managed half a dozen press ups before collapsing in a heap. He was totally worn out. Suzy and another girl, an Asian weightlifter called Li, helped him up the stairs to Cheryl's office.<br />
<br />
Cheryl poured the boy a drink, which he gulped down gratefully. Then, as planned, Kevin blacked out completely.<br />
<br />
When Kevin had any idea what was going on again, he found himself lying on a table and he could feel the cold air on his body. He feared that he was naked, but he wasn't. He was wearing a pink nightdress. Not only that, but he found that he had no hair on his arms or legs. And he still couldn't move! What were these witches doing to him?<br />
<br />
Suzy entered, carrying a bundle of clothes. "Oh, good, you're awake. Now that we've depilated you, it's time to get you dressed". Suzy leant over, undid a clip at the back of the nightdress and wiped it away, leaving Kevin naked. He felt his face redden.<br />
<br />
Suzy quickly put on him a lacy bra and a pair of matching knickers, a suspender belt and black shiny stockings, a pair of black high heels and a flowing floral frock. Kevin was powerless to prevent any of this or even to protest.<br />
<br />
Once he was dressed, Suzy was joined by Li and Cheryl, who helped move Kevin to a vanity station where he was expertly made up so that he looked more like a porcelain doll than a boy and had a blonde wig fitted.<br />
<br />
Kevin could have wept with shame as out of all of the ladies present, he now looked the most pretty and feminine.<br />
<br />
Suzy stroked his bare shoulders "There, now. That's much better isn't it? A pretty frock becomes you much better than it does me". The other women nodded in agreement. Even Kevin had to agree.<br />
<br />
Cheryl gave Kevin an injection of some kind and feeling began to return to his limbs and his tongue. "We've got all this on film by the way. Don't worry, we won't make you go home dressed as you are - unless you really want to of course - but the pictures of you as a sweet little lady will find their way onto the internet if you don't do what Suzy says from now on. Understood?"<br />
<br />
Kevin nodded dumbly.Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-77631286426733677552012-06-24T08:03:00.002-07:002012-06-24T08:03:16.655-07:00Suzy takes on the World - Part Ten - A dream come true?"Come on Kevin, it's time you were up!" mom's voice insisted.<br />
<br />
Kevin awoke with a start and glanced at the Man Utd alarm clock on his bedside table, which for some reason had failed to wake him at 7:15 as usual. The time read 07:45! He had a little over an hour to get dressed, eat his breakfast and catch the bus to school. Kevin leapt out of bed and hurried to the bathroom.<br />
<br />
During his ablutions, Kevin remembered the previous night with horror and shame. He had had to attend the school prom in the prom dress meant for his girlfriend Suzy. But she had refused to wear it. Some feminist thing. So Kevin's mom had insisted that he wear it instead! He face went crimson at the memory. It would take him a long time to live that down.<br />
<br />
As he left the bathroom, his mom shouted from below "Your school uniform's on your bed!" Kevin entered his bedroom, which was plastered with football posters, to find a school uniform on his bed, as mom had said. But it was certainly not his uniform!<br />
<br />
"Mom!" he called downstairs "What is a girl's uniform doing on my bed?"<br />
<br />
Mom's face appeared at the bottom of the stairs "That's your uniform now. I thought you looked so good last night in that prom dress that a girls' uniform would suit you better!"<br />
<br />
Kevin groaned "Mom, I'm not a girl! I can't go to school wearing a girls' uniform!"<br />
<br />
Mom's face became sharper and harder "Kevin, I don't have time to argue with you! I have a very important meeting at 9 am sharp. Just put your uniform on and stop whining like a baby!"<br />
<br />
Kevin knew it was no use arguing with his mom. She ruled the house, especially now she was the family's breadwinner since his dad was made redundant a year ago and had been unable to find work.<br />
<br />
Sighing, Kevin went back to his bedroom and looked at the girls' stuff he would have to wear. There were a pair of white panties with lace trim, a lacy bra, thick black tights, a white blouse, a grey pleated skirt, a blue cardigan, a blazer, a hat and a pair of shiny black shoes with a small heel on them.<br />
<br />
Kevin got into the things with difficulty. The blouse buttoned up all the wrong way, he had to roll to roll the tights up his legs and buckle the shoes on by means of fiddly straps. But the most alien thing of all was the bra. It took him ages to get it on and all the time mom was reminding him that he was running out of time.<br />
<br />
Finally, he was ready. He looked at himself in the mirror and cringed. In this get up, and with the hat covering his head, he did look a lot like a schoolgirl. The skirt showed off his slender, nylon clad legs to best advantage and his face looked feminine.<br />
<br />
He hurried downstairs as best as he could dressed as he was. The shoes were awkward to walk in and he was of course not used to wearing a skirt or a bra. Hiss mom commented on how lovely he looked. During breakfast, Kevin tried to persuade his mom to change her mind, to let him have his old uniform back. Smiling, mom gave him his satchel (a girls' one of course, with flowers all over it) and pushed him out of the door.<br />
<br />
Miserably, Kevin made his way to the bus stop. He dreaded the reception he would receive there. A load of girls were waiting there, including one of his ex-girlfriends, Belinda Fox. Kevin tried to remain inconspicuous.<br />
<br />
But Belinda had sussed him out "Oh, look everyone! Looks like we have a new girl. You look very sweet in your uniform Kevin!". Belinda and the other girls burst into giggling fits. Kevin was glad when the school bus arrived, on time for a change, and scuttled aboard.<br />
<br />
The ribbing Kevin got on the bus was just awful. However, it stopped immediately once the bus called in at a certain stop and Kevin's girlfriend, Suzy, stepped aboard. Suzy was only five feet two inches tall in her socks but she was built like an amazon with incredible muscles and self-confidence. Suzy came and sat beside Kevin and took one of his hands and gave it an incredibly gentle squeeze for such a strong girl. <br />
<br />
Kevin blushed as he thought of how they must look. Suzy, who was now allowed to wear trousers, was now the more masculine of the pair, whilst Kevin was of course now the more feminine partner.<br />
<br />
Belinda and the other girls, and even the boys, were rightly scared of Suzy and subsided into the background. The rest of the journey passed without incident.<br />
<br />
To Kevin's surprise, all of the teachers seemed to accept his new mode of dress, and so, after the first day, did the other pupils. The mates he used to play football with wanted nothing to do with him now he was in a skirt, but oddly Belinda and her cronies accepted him into their little sorority.<br />
<br />
Kevin returned home in a quandry one evening as Suzy had told him to get himself dolled up for a date. But a text from Belinda telling him to get round to her house on the double as she would help him out seemed to be a lifeline.<br />
<br />
On arrival, still in his school uniform, Belinda ordered him to strip down to his underwear before depilating all of the hair from his body, spraying him with a sweet smelling perfume, instructing him how to paint his fingernails and toenails with a bright red varnish. He was handed silk underwear to wear and also a frock. A big flowery one. Under the frock went layers of silk and lace petticoats that pushed the skirt of the frock out to wide dimensions and showed off Kevin's bare and hairless pins. Kevin wore a pair of high heels and carried a small purse. Belinda styled his hair and taught him how to use make up on his face. Kevin had submitted to pressure a week before to get his ears pierced and so he was able to wear large gold earrings.<br />
<br />
He looked just like a real girl, Belinda had said, and Kevin had had to agree. All made up as he was he did look an exquisitely pretty lady. Suzy, dressed in a man's suit, was well pleased with her boyfriend's appearance and took him out to dinner, which she insisted on ordering and paying for.<br />
<br />
Kevin sat in the restaurant, feeling ridiculous in his frock and layers of petticoats. He was gradually getting used to femininity, but he didn't like it. Not at all. His masculine instincts frequently rebelled against his feminisation. But with a girlfriend like Suzy, who took on the traditional male role, Kevin had no choice.<br />
<br />
Then the years seemed to go by in a blur. Suzy did well at school. Kevin did less well. Suzy went to college and university whilst Kevin lived at home with his parents. There was talk of him doing a secretarial course. After Suzy graduated and landed a good job and bought herself a house she invited Kevin to move in as her boyfriend. The she proposed to him and they got married. Kevin made a gorgeous bride in an ivory wedding gown and lace veil. Thereafter it was Suzy who earned the money and Kevin who looked after the house and did all of the cooking. He was required to be the equivalent of a "wife" at social gatherings and so had to wear nice dresses. He was a housewife in all but name.<br />
<br />
Then, Kevin woke up, in a cold sweat. He was relieved to find his bedroom was still as it had always been and his usual boy's school uniform hanging on the wardrobe door.<br />
<br />
Kevin breathed a deep sigh of relief. It had only been a nightmare......<br />
<br />
<br />Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-78131240487954497722012-06-09T03:32:00.000-07:002012-06-09T03:32:33.885-07:00Suzy takes on the World - Part Nine - Becoming a GirlfriendKevin Connor was confused. Usually, when it came to relationships, the girls adored him so much that he was always in complete control. He made the first move, took the girls out on dates, had his way with them and, if they didn't meet his standards, dumped them.<br />
<br />
He had had difficult girlfriends and ones that drove him nuts, but always Kevin was in control, never the girl.<br />
<br />
Suzy Stanton was different. A year ago, she wasn't even on his radar as suitable girlfriend material. He used her to help him do homework assignments as she clearly had a crush on him and was cleverer than he was, but would never get more involved than that.<br />
<br />
That had changed six months ago when Suzy had transformed herself from being a small, mousy insignificant schoolgirl into an Amazon with a magnificent physique. Kevin had been fascinated by Suzy's strength and confidence. And, also, he had felt emasculated by it, which was why, for once, even though he now fancied Suzy, he could not pluck up the courage to ask her out. This had never, ever been a problem for him before.<br />
<br />
In the end, Suzy had solved the problem for him by marching up to him one day and asking him outright if he wanted a date with her. Unable to take his eyes off her large muscles and fabulous physique, Kevin had said yes.<br />
<br />
From that day forth, Kevin had never been in control of the relationship. It was Suzy who decided when they would go out, where they would go out and what they would do. Suzy refused to conform to traditional femininity, eschewing skirts and dresses. It was Suzy who was the more dominant partner. It was most disconcerting to Kevin to find himself pinned against a wall whilst Suzy fondled him or to find one of her hands stroking his leg under the table whilst they were eating.<br />
<br />
The reality of his relationship had been brought home to him one day when he had been sitting in the school cafeteria with his mates. Their discussion around football had been interrupted by the sounds of giggling from the table behind. Kevin had turned around to find one of his ex-girlfriends, Belinda Fox, and two of her soppy friends laughing.<br />
<br />
Irritated by the interruption, Kevin had snapped "Something funny girls?"<br />
<br />
"Oh, yes" Belinda had replied "You, actually!"<br />
<br />
Annoyed Kevin had said "What do you mean, me? What's so funny about me?"<br />
<br />
"All we girls think it's hilarious. The great Kevin Connor, who could have his pick of any girl in this school, becoming the girlfriend - for that's what you are - of the incredible hulk!". The three girls dissolved into laughter.<br />
<br />
Kevin's felt his face reddening "That's rubbish! You take that back right now!"<br />
<br />
"Or what, Kevin?" asked Belinda sweetly "You'll hit me with your handbag!"<br />
<br />
Kevin stormed out and went to the boys' toilets, shaking. He had tried to convince himself that there was nothing wrong with his relationship with Suzy, but if a bimbo like Belinda could see it then he had to face up to the truth.<br />
<br />
He was, in effect, becoming the "girl" in their relationship. He sat down heavily. It was a lot to take in.<br />
<br />
That evening, Suzy came around to his house. She had just come straight from the gym and looked fantastic. She gave him a deep kiss that pleased him.<br />
<br />
"Hi sweetheart. Have you had a good day?" she asked him.<br />
<br />
Kevin shrugged. There was no point telling her about the incident in the cafeteria or how upset he had been about it. <br />
<br />
Suzy seemed concerned "You seem unhappy. But, hey, we've the school prom to look forward to! We can go together as a couple for the first time!"<br />
<br />
That cheered Kevin up. The chance to wear a tuxedo and look cool, and to have a girl on his arm who was wearing a gorgeous prom dress, there was nothing like it.<br />
<br />
"So..." Kevin began "What are you gonna wear for the prom?"<br />
<br />
Suzy shrugged "I thought I'd wear a tux".<br />
<br />
Kevin jumped up "You can't do that! That's what the guys wear!"<br />
<br />
Suzy was unfazed by his outburst "I most certainly can. There's no rule against it."<br />
<br />
Kevin became pleading "Please, Suzy! I can't take you to the prom on my arm with you in a tux! It'll look.....weird! Can't you wear a dress just this once?"<br />
<br />
"Nope" said Suzy "I'm done with dresses and skirts. I decide what I wear from now on!"<br />
<br />
"But....but..." said Kevin "Oh. hell, it was meant to be a big surprise but.."<br />
<br />
"But what?" asked Suzy.<br />
<br />
"The thing is, Suzy, I told mom that you and I would be going to the prom and, mom being mom, she only went out and bought you a prom dress! It was very expensive! So...you have to wear it!"<br />
<br />
"No, I don't. I didn't ask her to buy it for me. You kinda did. So, it's not really my problem".<br />
<br />
Kevin got down on his knees "Suzy please! Just wear the dress for one evening, that's all I ask!".<br />
<br />
"No way. Your mom will just have to return it cos I'm not wearing it".<br />
<br />
And from that standpoint, Suzy would not be budged. Kevin went to talk to his mom to explain the situation.<br />
<br />
"Look mom, perhaps I should have explained that Suzy is not your ordinary girl. She's not into dresses, so you'll have to send the dress back and get a refund that's all".<br />
<br />
Mom shook her head "Not possible. The store's policy is not to make refunds. So, what I am supposed to do with a very expensive prom dress?"<br />
<br />
"I don't know" Kevin admitted.<br />
<br />
"Well, one things for sure, it's not going to waste! If Suzy won't wear it, then you'll have to!"<br />
<br />
"What! I can't do that! I'm a boy!"<br />
<br />
"This mess is your fault. If you hadn't told me about the prom or that your girlfriend doesn't like dresses, I wouldn't have bought it. So, you'll have to pay by wearing the dress yourself. It's actually very pretty and will suit your complexion quite well!"<br />
<br />
So, to his shame, Kevin had to go to the prom wearing a big pink prom dress and high heels and on the arm of his strong, tuxedo clad girlfriend. When Belinda and the other girls saw him they howled with laughter "Now he really IS the girlfriend!"<br />
<br />
Having to dress as a girl made Kevin for the first time appreciate what it must be like to be a girl. His body was caressed by silk and the feel made his skin shiver. His arms, legs and shoulders were exposed for the world to see. He looked (and he had to admit, felt) pretty and feminine. He was also aware of his vulnerability in those skirts and heels. Beside his magnificently built girlfriend he looked and felt a lot like a girl.<br />
<br />
Suzy was enchanted with his appearance and couldn't keep her hands off him.<br />
<br />
Suzy behaved like the boy and Kevin found himself having to play the girl's part. Suzy got him drinks and took care of him. When they danced, Suzy led and Kevin had to follow. Later, Suzy took him aside and had her way with him. Used to being the alpha male and in control of everything, it was a sudden shock to find that the boot was on the other foot now and that he found all of his normal masculine instincts melt away to become quite submissive and helpless in the arms of such a strong girl.<br />
<br />
He had, unwittingly and unexpectedly, become a "girlfriend"!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-49212965650417056792012-06-05T12:07:00.000-07:002012-06-05T12:07:38.185-07:00Forbidden FruitIn the summer of 1900, Edmund Downes and his older sister, Edwina were sent away by their parents to stay with their uncle and aunt and their children, Sybil and Thomas.<br />
<br />
Uncle Clarence and Aunt Eustacia lived in a big house in the country, with large gardens, liveried footmen and immaculately uniformed maids. Uncle Clarence was a Major-General in the army and he was away fighting the Boer War, so that left Aunt Eustacia in charge of both house and children.<br />
<br />
It happened to be that two weeks after Edmund and Edwina arrived there was to be a Grand Ball held at the house and all the titled gentlemen and ladies of the county would be there. The ladies would of course be expected to wear their finest gowns. Edwina and Sybil, both aged fifteen, were old enough to attend but the boys, each being only thirteen, were still considered to be too young for such an august occasion.<br />
<br />
There was a great deal of fuss over the gowns that the three ladies were to wear. There seemed to be endless fittings and adjustments. The two boys watched the antics of their aunt and sisters with amusement.<br />
<br />
Edmund and Thomas were good friends although Edmund was the dominant personality of the two. Thomas seemed happy to follow. They both agreed that their older sisters were haughty and looked down their noses at their younger brothers.<br />
<br />
"Honestly" Edmund said one day "Sometimes Edwina treats me just like a servant. Get that for me Eddie! Bring me my wrap!" he said in a passable imitation of his sister's higher voice.<br />
<br />
Thomas giggled "Sybil's just the same. She orders me around like I'm a maid!"<br />
<br />
"Girls!" said Edmund "They think they're so superior!"<br />
<br />
"They sure look pretty and they do wear nice things" Thomas observed "Sybil's cleverer than me as well. I'm a real thicko compared to her!"<br />
<br />
Edmund sniffed "Only because she's older. Girls don't have the capacity for studies like us boys. We'll soon overtake them, you'll see".<br />
<br />
Thomas was suddenly very thoughtful "I wonder what it would be like....you know....to be a girl"<br />
<br />
Edmund boxed his ears "Don't be absurd! Why on earth would anyone WANT to be a girl? You meant that as a joke right?"<br />
<br />
Thomas nodded weakly.<br />
<br />
"Come on" said Edmund "Let's forget all about girls and go and play soccer!"<br />
<br />
A week later, the boys were bored. They had played soccer with some of the local boys of the nearby village, but now it was harvest time and the local boys were busy with that. They had grown tired of all of their other games. They couldn't even annoy the girls since they were out shopping with Aunt Eustacia and would be gone all day.<br />
<br />
"What are we going to do all day?" Edmund asked "I'm bored, bored, bored!"<br />
<br />
"I've got an idea" Thomas piped up excitedly.<br />
<br />
"Well?" Edmund urged him crossly.<br />
<br />
"Why don't we have a peek in my sister's room? I've always wondered what it looks like".<br />
<br />
"We can't go in there!" retorted Edmund "We aren't allowed in there".<br />
<br />
"Have you got any better ideas?" Thomas asked him simply.<br />
<br />
Edmund didn't. To his surprise, he found himself warming to the idea. He was curious himself about how a girl lived. They crept along to the room of Thomas' sister, Sybil, and ventured inside.<br />
<br />
There was a faint odour of perfume. The bedroom was undoubtedly for a lady. Thomas unstopped a perfume bottle and smelt it "Violets" he said wonderingly.<br />
<br />
"Put it back" Edmund ordered him "They can't know we've been in here".<br />
<br />
Thomas put the bottle down, went to a wardrobe and opened it up to reveal an array of brightly coloured dresses and ballgowns. He took one out and looked on it in wonder.<br />
<br />
Edmund snatched it out of Thomas's hand and carefully put the dress back where it had come from "Stop touching things or else they'll realise someone's been in here!"<br />
<br />
Thomas pulled the dress out again "We can just say it must have been one of the maids. The girls can't even dress themselves without help from their maids".<br />
<br />
Edmund conceded that Thomas had a point. He went over to a lacquered chest of drawers and opened one drawer. He pulled out a pair of pink silk bloomers all covered with red bows. So, he thought, this is what girls wear underneath all those skirts and petticoats! A curious sensation came over him and he had a sudden urge to try the ridiculous bloomers on.<br />
<br />
He tried to dismiss the thought. He angrily stuffed the bloomers back in the drawer and slammed it shut "We really shouldn't be in here!" he said to Thomas "We ought to leave right now".<br />
<br />
But for once Thomas was not in the mood to obey Edmund "I'm not going. You can if you want to. I think we should dress up like girls. Only for a short time, just to see what it's like".<br />
<br />
Edmund went red at the thought of him and Thomas dressed as girls "Are you mad? What if we get caught?"<br />
<br />
"Who's going to catch us?" asked Thomas "Aunt Eustacia and the girls have gone to town. It's a three hour trip each way. And the servants are too busy preparing for the Grand Ball to worry about us. No-one is going to find out. Come on, admit it, you really wanted to try those bloomers on!"<br />
<br />
"I suppose I did" Edmund whispered.<br />
<br />
Thomas went over to the door and turned the key. The boys heard an audible click. "There" said Thomas "the door is locked. Even if one of the servants tries to get in here, they'll have to get the master key from the butler first by which time we will have scarpered. Come on, lets try on some of these clothes!"<br />
<br />
Half an hour later, Edmund was wearing those fantastic bloomers under a red satin ballgown and Thomas was wearing a green dress and silk french knickers. Both boys had festooned themselves with pearl necklaces and bracelets. <br />
<br />
It felt good and luxurious to feel silk and satin against their bodies and to wear pretty jewellery. They peered into the oval mirror that Sybil used when dressing. Both boys had quite delicate and feminine features and were of small builds so they looked quite convincing as ladies.<br />
<br />
It was a pity, the boys decided, that they could not enhance their appearances further by use of corsetry and cosmetics but they knew that there was only so much that they dared do. Corsets and cosmetics took ages to get on and off.<br />
<br />
The boys tried on other dresses and gowns to see what suited them best. They were really getting into girl mode now. They now understood why girls needed so many clothes and complained that they had nothing to wear when they had wardrobes stuffed full of clothes!<br />
<br />
Edmund had decided on a lilac gown that showed off his small shoulders whilst Thomas seemed to like a pink gown that was all shimmery and shiny. In fact, he seemed mesmerised by it. Edmund, the more sensible of the two, had kept an eye on the time.<br />
<br />
"We'd better get back into our normal clothes now" he said "Auntie and the girls will be back soon". Reluctantly, Thomas obeyed and the boys left for their own room.<br />
<br />
Once there Edmund said "We can't say anything about what we've just done to anyone. No-one must ever know so keep silent about it. Promise?"<br />
<br />
Thomas nodded miserably. Edmund was worried about him. Edmund had enjoyed the experience, but it was a lark, not to be repeated. But Thomas seemed preoccupied by it.<br />
<br />
The ladies returned, satisfied with their shopping trip, and things returned to normal. The Grand Ball went ahead and was a great success. Aunt Eustacia, Sybil and Edwina were all very pleased. If Sybil had noticed anything amiss in her room, nothing was said.<br />
<br />
Then, one morning at breakfast, Aunt Eustacia opened a letter. Her plucked eyebrows raised in surprise "It's from Lord and Lady Dullarde. They were guests at the Grand Ball. They were so impressed with our ball that they've decided to hold one of their own. And we are all invited. Even you boys!"<br />
<br />
The children were thrilled, but Aunt Eustacia had not finished.<br />
<br />
"Oh, how delightful! It is to be a fancy dress ball! How exciting! Whatever shall I wear?"<br />
<br />
The boys were asking themselves that very same question when Sybil piped up "I have a wonderful, and very funny, idea. Why don't we girls go as chaps and the boys go as girls?"<br />
<br />
Aunt Eustacia's usually sour face broadened into a smile "I say, I do like that idea! I can wear Clarence's tuxedo. What a splendid man I shall make! That's settled then!"<br />
<br />
The boys of course made some mild protests but since they secretly loved the idea of dressing up in Sybil's clothes again they quickly conceded.<br />
<br />
On the afternoon of the ball, Sybil took her brother and cousin in hand. The boys had to wear elaborate and very frilly pantaloons over white silk stockings. They were put into constrictive and waist reducing corsets. They were required to wear layers and layers of silk, satin and lace petticoats over hooped skirts. Their feet were encased in jewelled high heeled shoes that were very difficult to walk in. The boys both wore pink silk ballgowns that displayed their shoulders, arms and backs. They were adorned with glittering jewellery. Their faces were given a thin coating of cosmetics and their lips were rouged. Edmund and Thomas also wore long blonde wigs crowned with a small tiara and carried tiny purses.<br />
<br />
The boys looked at themselves after their transformations and had to admit that they looked extremely convincing. Stunningly beautiful even.<br />
<br />
"You both make very pretty young ladies!" Sybil confirmed "Now, ladies, it's time to leave for your grand debut".<br />
<br />
The boys tottered after Sybil, who was dressed in a man's tuxedo and enjoying the freedom, wearing fur wraps to protect them from the cold. They met Aunt Eustacia and Edwina, both dressed as Sybil now was. They burst out laughing at the boys' new appearance "My goodness, you both look so much like girls!" Edwina shrieked.<br />
<br />
With great difficulty dressed as they were, Edmund and Thomas alighted the coach and got out at the other end. When they entered the ballroom of the Dullardes, they cringed in horror.<br />
<br />
Except for their aunt and sisters, everyone else was dressed normally. Lord and Lady Dullarde peered at them curiously "My dear Eustacia! This isn't a fancy dress ball. Why on earth are you dressed in that get up?"<br />
<br />
Aunt Eustacia said "It's just a little joke. We ladies decided it might be fun to dress as chaps, as a wheeze!"<br />
<br />
Lady Dullarde pointed at Edmund and Thomas "But what about those two girls? They look normal to me. Why dress three of you as chaps and leave two as girls?"<br />
<br />
Sybil answered the question by grasping the wig of each boy and lifting it up to reveal that the two "girls" were in fact boys dressed up as girls.<br />
<br />
Lady Dullarde stifled a laugh "Oh, I see!"<br />
<br />
"Yes" said Sybil "These two rascals had a poke around in my room whilst I was out and tried on my dresses. They even wore some of my underwear believe it or not!"<br />
<br />
Edmund and Thomas looked at each other. How could she have known?<br />
<br />
"One of the maids saw them leaving my room and my clothes had clearly been tampered with so it wasn't difficult to put two and two together. So I got my own back by publicly humiliating them, with some help from Auntie and Edwina".<br />
<br />
Edmund and Thomas looked at each other again. They had been outwitted by Sybil and their fetish for wearing girls' stuff had been exposed. Oh, the shame! The boys hung their heads as the guests roared with laughter at them.<br />
<br />
"Oh, one more thing, <b><i>ladies</i></b><i style="font-weight: bold;"> "</i> continued Sybil "Since you like wearing girls' frilly knickers and pretty dresses so much and since they suit you so well, it would be a shame to deprive you, so you'll be wearing them all of the time for the rest of the holidays!"<br />
<br />
The ballroom was filled with laughter once more. Edmund and Thomas did not know where to put their faces!Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-76221152125599996302012-06-04T08:43:00.000-07:002012-06-04T08:43:46.736-07:00Suzy takes on the World - Part Eight - Damian's MakeoverDamian could hardly believe what his mother and sister had done to him!<br />
<br />
Only a month earlier, he had still been a member of one of the toughest gangs on the estate and the undisputed alpha male of his family. But then Mum had found out about the drugs he distributed on behalf of the gang and that he had been playing truant from school.<br />
<br />
Mum had destroyed the drugs. Without those (or their market value in cash) Damian was in big trouble with his gang. The only consolation he had was that they would never find him since Mum had moved the whole family out of the estate and into a house in the posh end of town that belonged to a man who Damian had yet to meet.<br />
<br />
Mum had been tempted to leave Damian behind, to the not very tender mercies of the gang, but had relented when Damian had begged her to take him with her and had promised to do what he was told from now on.<br />
<br />
Mum had decided that, as a means of both punishment and reform, Damian must undergo something called "Petticoat Punishment". Damian had never heard of such a thing, but he was to learn what it meant very soon.<br />
<br />
Shortly after moving in, Damian had been stripped of his expensive shellsuits, trainers and male jewellery. His masculine diamond earring was removed. He was made to take a bath that must have contained a powerful depilatory as when he stepped out all of his thick body hair was gone and in its place was smooth, hairless, almost girlish looking skin.<br />
<br />
Dressed only in what was obviously a woman's towelling robe and matching fluffy slippers, Damian was ordered to his room. What he had found there had horrified him.<br />
<br />
It had been the complete outfit of a baby. And a baby girl at that!<br />
<br />
Damian had attempted resistance, but to his shame his younger sister Suzy was now far stronger than him and had put him in his place so he had had to submit to having his body powdered with sweet smelling talc and being put into a diaper. The diaper was extremely uncomfortable but the humiliation of having to wear one was far worse.<br />
<br />
Over the diaper went a pair of plastic pants and over those went a pair of white panties that were generously frilled and flounced on both front and back and with cute pink bows strategically placed to confirm the gender of their wearer. A white lace vest was put onto Damian, followed by his baby dress, a pure white satin gown with lace embroidery detail and a deep collar. The dress left most of Damian's arms and legs bare.<br />
<br />
To his shame, woollen white booties and mittens were put on his feet and hands and he had to submit to wearing a white baby bonnet with deep frilled edging. A pink dummy was put into his mouth and he was ordered not to remove it without permission.<br />
<br />
The bedroom assigned to him was very babyish and very girly. The wallpaper was a pale pink with bunnies and flowers on it, there was a white cot and playpen, and lots of soft toys. The cot and playpen were constructed with lockable lids so that once Damian was put into them, he was a prisoner. There were also bars on the window and the bedroom door was also locked once Damian was left alone inside.<br />
<br />
Damian was not allowed to watch any television or play any computer or hand-held games. He could only play with his soft toys. At meal times, he was treated completely as a baby. He had to wear a plastic pink bib and he was force fed baby food. He was not allowed to feed himself.<br />
<br />
Nor was he allowed to use the toilet. He had to go in his diaper. At first, he tried to resist pooping in his diaper, but it was impossible, and so he had to have his diapers changed for him, which was very humiliating.<br />
<br />
At seven o clock every evening, Damian was fed a bottle of warm milk and put to bed.<br />
<br />
Resistance was futile. His sister was now far stronger than him and capable of giving him a sound spanking which made him cry. He soon learnt not to resist, but it was so humiliating to be treated like a baby.<br />
<br />
Actually, being treated like a baby was bad, but being treated like a girl was worse. Far worse. Everything from his clothes, his underwear, his toys and surroundings marked him as being feminine. When his hair grew, it was styled into ringlets and even had pink bows tied in it. Both of his ears were now pierced and he had little golden studs. When he saw himself in the mirror he flushed with shame because he looked very girlish and very adorable. But he felt ridiculous all of the time.<br />
<br />
To make matters worse, Damian could see no end to his enforced babyhood and feminisation. One day, to his horror, Suzy and Mum had returned from shopping trip from Adora Baby Boutique with elaborate and very frilly baby dresses and underwear. Damian had no choice but to submit to wearing the ultra feminine attire. The feminisation was having an effect on his personality. He was becoming more obedient and submissive in order to win approval.<br />
<br />
Finally, the ultimate humiliation occurred. Mum announced that henceforth, he would have to answer to a girl's name. He was Rosemary from now on. His new name was printed on his bib.<br />
<br />
From a gang member, Damian had been reduced to being a helpless baby girl!Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-25118792433799832822012-05-31T12:41:00.001-07:002012-05-31T12:41:40.242-07:00Suzy takes on the World - Part Seven - Life ChangesSuzy pummelled her opponent with relish and lapped up the applause of the audience. She had done it! She had won the Girls' Under 16s Boxing Tournament! Suzy collected her trophy and showed it off to the adoring crowds.<br />
<br />
The trophy and the title were trifles compared to the real prize that Suzy had won and had been winning for the past twelve months. Originally starting weightlifting in an after school class, her instructor had been so impressed with her that he had sent her to Cheryl.<br />
<br />
Cheryl ran her own gym and had a special gym for her "Amazons" as she liked to call the real fighters, athletes and bodybuilders. Suzy had willingly become an Amazon and had excelled not only at weightlifting but at boxing. Suzy was not tall, being barely more than five feet in height, but what she lacked in height she made up for in strength for Suzy now possessed a muscular physique.<br />
<br />
Over the last few months, Cheryl had entered her in competitions and she had won trophies, invariably coming first, second or third.<br />
<br />
Just as importantly, Suzy had not neglected her academic studies. Her brain was as strong as her body. She was still top of the class in most subjects. Now that her body was strong, it was time to make a few changes, Suzy decided, starting with school.<br />
<br />
Suzy still fancied Kevin Connor, the cutest boy in her year. But she had a rival in the shape of Belinda Fox, a girl who was bigger and more aggressive than Suzy. Plus she had had a couple of mates, Helen and Rosie, to back her up. Suzy remembered keenly the humiliation of having her head stuck down the toilet even though that incident had been almost a year ago now.<br />
<br />
But, almost a year later, Suzy was stronger than any girl in school, even the Sixth Formers, and most of the boys too she guessed. Besides, Belinda had become a very feminine girl, experimenting with make up and jewellery in spite of the detentions she had received for breaking the rules about girls of her age wearing such fripperies.<br />
<br />
Her latest addition to her image was the fantastic hairdo her mother had arranged for her to have. Belinda strode about the school, showing it off, and preening in class. She wore far too much make up and a ridiculous amount of jewellery for a schoolgirl.<br />
<br />
Belinda and her mates had been jibing Suzy for months, saying that with her muscles she was no longer a girl and even implied that her bodybuilding meant that she was a lesbian. Suzy bore these petty untruths stoically. She noticed that none of the three girls ever challenged her physically now, as they had in the past and guessed that they were probably slightly afraid of her.<br />
<br />
Belinda was Kevin's girlfriend. Well, when it suited him to have a girl on his arm, but otherwise Belinda may as well as not existed as far as Kevin was concerned. He was obsessed with football and had dreams of one day being a professional footballer.<br />
<br />
Suzy was determined to supplant Belinda but had had to bide her time. In defiance of Belinda's threats to hurt Suzy if she as much as looked at Kevin, Suzy tried to get near him as much as possible. Kevin was fascinated by Suzy's new physique and so was a willing companion. Suzy noticed with satisfaction that Belinda was looking daggers at her as she spoke with Kevin.<br />
<br />
Do your worst! Suzy willed her.<br />
<br />
The confrontation came in the girls' toilets again. Suzy was just washing her hands when Belinda and her cronies burst in on her.<br />
<br />
Belinda shoved Suzy in the chest. A year ago, Suzy would have gone flying, but the new Suzy barely noticed.<br />
<br />
"What did I tell you, slut? To stay away from my Kevin!"<br />
<br />
Suzy shrugged, a gesture that seemed to aggravate Belinda more. "Right, you little lesbian bitch, time to teach you a lesson! Girls, grab her!"<br />
<br />
Helen and Rosie rushed to obey, but Suzy brushed them off with almost contemptuous ease. She punched Helen in the stomach, causing her to double up, and punched Rosie on the arm, making her cry out.<br />
<br />
Belinda was shocked and surprised "What are you, Rambo?"<br />
<br />
Suzy rushed forward and grabbed Belinda by the hair. Belinda shrieked. Suzy dragged her towards one of the cubicles. Belinda cried out for her cronies to help, only to find that they had scarpered. They were not willing to take on Suzy again!<br />
<br />
"What are you going to do?" Belinda whimpered, sounding more like a little girl than a sophisticate.<br />
<br />
"I'm going to give you a taste of your own medicine" Suzy told her "I'm going to stick your head down this toilet and flush the chain!"<br />
<br />
Belinda screamed "NO! You musn't! My mum will kill me if I ruin this hairdo. It cost her over a hundred pounds! Please! I'm sorry for what I did to you, really!" Belinda began to cry.<br />
<br />
Suzy decided to let her go.<br />
<br />
Belinda scampered out, wailing.<br />
<br />
Suzy was satisfied. She needn't worry about Belinda, Helen and Rosie again.<br />
<br />
Suzy returned home. There was another matter to deal with. Her brother, Damian. He had got in deeper and deeper with one of the gangs on the estate. Suzy suspected he was passing drugs around for them.<br />
<br />
Damian was home, loafing around the flat in an expensive shell suit and flashing more bling than 50 Cent. The only way he could have got that the money to pay for it all was drugs, Suzy knew.<br />
<br />
Garage music was pumping loudly out of the expensive sound system that Damian owned. It was so loud that the walls of the flat were throbbing. Suzy pressed the "off" switch and the pumping music abruptly stopped.<br />
<br />
That got Damian's attention "What the...."<br />
<br />
"You really shouldn't play your music so loud" Suzy told him.<br />
<br />
Damian was livid "What's got into you, you crazy bitch? You come in here and mess with my sound system - you touch that again..."<br />
<br />
"And you'll what, try and throw Lucky off the balcony again? You ever touch him again and I'll chuck YOU off the balcony!"<br />
<br />
Damian burst into laughter "You? Do anything to me? That's priceless!"<br />
<br />
Suzy reached forward and caught one of Damian's arms. Damian's eyes widened in surprise at Suzy's strength. Suzy pinned his arm and forced him to the ground. It was exhilarating to be able to exert her strength over her older brother. Damian tried to squirm and wriggle free, but he found that his strength was no much against his sister's.<br />
<br />
"I meant what I said" Suzy said "If you try to hurt Lucky again...."<br />
<br />
This time Damian believed her. Suzy could sense his fear. Good.<br />
<br />
Suddenly, the front door opened and Mum entered the flat. Suzy hurriedly let Damian go. He gave her a baleful look as he got up. Suzy was not scared of her brother and gave him a look of contempt in return.<br />
<br />
"You won't believe what's just happened!" Mum was saying. She was smiling, really smiling, for the first time in years! "You'll never guess!"<br />
<br />
Suzy and Damian looked at each other, non-plussed. Finally, Suzy said "Alright, we give up Mum. What's your big news?"<br />
<br />
"Mr Lancaster, you remember Mr Lancaster don't you Suzy? Anyway, he's only asked us to come and live with him! I'll be his full-time Na....I mean housekeeper!"<br />
<br />
This was good news! The family would get away from this horrid estate with its crime and it gangs and its drugs to a much better neighbourhood. Suzy glanced at Damian. Damian didn't know about Mr Lancaster and his secret. Suzy was surprised that Mr Lancaster would have allowed another person to be privy to his secret.<br />
<br />
"That's wonderful news, Mum" Suzy said "When do we move in?"<br />
<br />
"In a week or so. I'll need that to get shot of this place. Oh, there is one thing. Damian, you won't be coming".<br />
<br />
Damian's mouth dropped open "What?"<br />
<br />
"You've been a bad boy, haven't you? Not only the drugs, which I know you had stashed away. They're gone now, by the way. Flushed down the loo. I'm not having that filth in my home! But school too. Top of the class indeed! You haven't been to school for months, you miserable little liar!"<br />
<br />
Damian was trembling "Mum, I can explain...."<br />
<br />
"Don't bother. I can't believe a word that comes out of your mouth any more. You're turned out just like your father. All lies, false promises and no backbone!"<br />
<br />
"But what am I going to do?" Damian was frightened.<br />
<br />
"I'm sure your mates who gave you those drugs will take care of you" Mum said sweetly.<br />
<br />
"You flushed the drugs down the bog! They'll kill me!" Damian was almost hysterical "I can't stay on this estate now! You have to take me with you! Please!"<br />
<br />
Mum made an act of thinking deeply. She, like Suzy, was enjoying seeing Damian squirm. "Ok, you can come too, but there will have to be a few changes......."<br />
<br />
<br />Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-29283755876710811342012-05-20T02:29:00.000-07:002012-05-20T02:29:06.975-07:00Suzy takes on the world - Part Six - Cheryl's AmazonsSuzy was initially disappointed when she took her first steps into Cheryl's Ladies Only Gym and Fitness Centre. It was just like any other ladies' gym, decorated in pastel shades and with posters about weight loss and beauty treatments that the facility offered.<br />
<br />
Suzy wanted to pump iron, not lose weight or have her body subjected to depilation or other feminising treatments. She was half-tempted to turn on her heel and leave before anyone spotted her. But it was too late. She had been spotted.<br />
<br />
An older woman, about the age of Suzy's mum, but bigger, stronger and younger looking, gave her a friendly wave and rushed over before Suzy could react.<br />
<br />
"Hi there" said the other woman, extending a strong hand "I'm Cheryl. Owner and Manager of this gym. Welcome".<br />
<br />
Suzy awkwardly shook the other woman's hand, noting it's strength and the callouses. Clearly, Cheryl worked out herself. This made Suzy feel a little better about the gym.<br />
<br />
"I'm Suzy. Suzy Stanton" she explained. She reached in her pocket for the card that Mr Keele, her previous gym instructor, had given her and handed it to Cheryl. Cheryl perused the card and smiled.<br />
<br />
"Ah, so you're the Suzy old Keele-haul e-mailed me about!"<br />
<br />
"Keele-haul?" asked Suzy.<br />
<br />
"That's what we used to call him in the army. I joined up when I was sixteen. Keele-haul was my instructor. Fair play to the man, he was a total bastard and made our lives hell, especially the women, but he made a soldier out of me. You must have seriously impressed him for him to send you to me! Anyway, let me give you a guided tour of the place!"<br />
<br />
"I think I've seen enough, actually" said Suzy "Tanning beds and aerobics....not really my scene".<br />
<br />
Cheryl laughed "I should hope not! Suzy, I'm a businesswoman, and a good one. At the moment, at any rate, most women want come to a gym just to lose weight, socialise and get a little pampering. If that's what they want, then fine, I'll give that to them. The stuff for them is on the ground floor, where I have no intention of taking you by the way. On the lower floor is the REAL gym. All the machines and weights you could ever want".<br />
<br />
Suzy relaxed and allowed herself to be guided past the stuff for ladies, down a flight of stairs and into the gym. Suzy's eyes beheld a paradise for a gym nut like herself. Like Cheryl had said, everything a weightlifter needed was right here. What was more impressive were the numbers of women working out. More than a dozen. Cheryl told her that virtually all of the female body builders for miles around came to her gym.<br />
<br />
Cheryl looked proudly at her clients as they worked out "My Amazons" she murmered. She got Suzy to change and show her what she was capable of. Suzy did not disappoint.<br />
<br />
"Old Keele-haul was right!" said Cheryl with a note of triumph in her voice "You ARE serious about this! I want you to come here as often as you can and work out. I want you to be strong and brave, like an Amazon"<br />
<br />
Suzy shuffled her feet nervously "Ermm....how much is all this going to cost me, Cheryl? My mum...."<br />
<br />
Cheryl shook her head "Don't worry about that. I owe Keele-haul a favour and he asked me to take good care of you, so you can come here whenever you like, free of charge. And I'll be training you personally, so you'd better be ready for some real hard work!"<br />
<br />
Suzy looked at Cheryl in gratitude. This was just what she wanted. She had a strong feeling in her heart that her life was turning around.<br />
<br />
<br />Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-86269706397983352982012-05-13T02:49:00.002-07:002012-05-13T02:50:10.575-07:00Suzy takes on the world - Part Five - Weighty Matters<span style="font-size: x-small;">Suzy steeled herself for the ordeal that she anticipated was ahead. She was as nervous as hell, but steely determination had won out.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Suzy pushed open the door and marched in.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Some boys, mainly sixth-formers were doing weight training, or just standing about talking. The air in the small gym area reeked of male testostorene and stale sweat.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">A big man, whom Suzy vaguely recognised as Mr Keele, Head of Sports at her school, abruptly ended his conversation with one of his charges and advanced towards Suzy.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Can I help you?" Mr Keele asked, although his tone did not suggest that he wanted to help at all. There was an undercurrent of hostility in his voice. He was also using his large, muscular body to block Suzy from proceeding any further into this exclusively male club.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Unperturbed, Suzy said "I've come to join the after school weight training class".</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Mr Keele's eyes narrowed "Is this some kind of joke? Cos if it is, I don't find it funny!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"I'm serious" Suzy told him.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"Serious? Look, young lady, this after school club is for boys only, so why don't you save us all a lot of time and bother, turn yourself around and go and sign up for something else, like hockey or netball?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Mr Keele was intimidating. Suzy had heard that before he became a teacher he had been a Sergeant-Major in the army with a reputation for breaking recruits. He certainly had the voice and physique of one.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">A small part of Suzy wanted to do as Mr Keele had suggested. But Suzy was not timid or cowardly.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"That's interesting Mr Keele, because I've read the advertisement for the gym club, several times in fact, and nowhere does it say that it is for boys only" Suzy said "And even if it did, that's unfair discrimination".</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Mr Keele was sorely tempted to give this scrap of a girl the same treatment he would have given an insubordinate recruit, back in the day, but stopped himself. Treating a boy like that was one thing, but not a girl. All she would have to do was turn on the waterworks and all sympathy would gravitate towards her, and he would be a villain and a bully.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Besides, she was right. It was not a boys' only class and if he tried to make it so, he would be breaking the Sex Equality and Anti-Discrimination act that the government had recently passed. He could end up in front of a disciplinary board at best or get his P45 at worst.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Mr Keele was simply bewildered with the ways that the world had changed. In his own childhood, some thirty-five years past, the roles of the sexes had been simple. Men went out and earned the money and made the decisions. Women stayed at home, kept house and kids and made herself pretty for when the man came home. Now it was all "Women must be allowed to have careers and be independent" and "men must be better fathers and get in touch with their feminine side". Madness, in Mr Keele's opinion.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">He was aware that everything had gone quiet and that everybody was looking at him. The sixth form boys and this tiresome girl who had something to prove. Mr Keele felt frustrated and uncomfortable about having to give in to this puny girl. He turned back to the crowd of boys, put on his best parade ground voice and yelled "WHAT ARE YOU LOT STARING AT? WHO TOLD YOU YOU COULD STOP?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">It had the desired effect. The boys jumped six feet in the air and immediately tried to make themselves look like they were exercising. Mr Keele felt better, more in control. He turned to the girl and forced himself to smile "Ok, Missie, let's see what you can do"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">SIX MONTHS LATER</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Mr Keele smiled with indulgent pride at the sight of his best pupil pumping iron. He wouldn't in his wildest dreams have thought it possible that Suzy had not only survived but emerged at the top of her class in a totally masculine environment.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Mr Keele had not made it easy for her. He was hard on most people, but he had been especially tough on Suzy, hoping to break the girl, to dissuade her from carrying on with what Mr Keele regarded as folly. But Suzy had refused to break and she had put up with whatever Mr Keele had thrown at her.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Eventually, Mr Keele's professionalism took over as he recognised that, unlike most of his class who larked around at the slightest opportunity, Suzy was serious about weight training. He eased off on her, slightly. He became more the teacher than the sergeant major he had once been. He even, in his own time, researched competitions that Suzy could enter.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">He had been astonished to learn that weight training was a growing sport amongst women and girls. There were plenty of competitions that Suzy could enter. He had entered her for a local contest for girls aged between 10 and 15. Suzy had done well. Although she did not win any of the top prizes, as she up against girls who were older than her and had been doing this for longer, the judges did give her a special commendation for effort.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Over time, Suzy's confidence - and her muscles - grew and within a few more contests she was winning second or third place, beating older girls.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Mr Keele was very proud of Suzy and ashamed at how he had treated her when she had first arrived at his class. She was the only one who had actually won anything. Mr Keele despaired of the boys. They had the ability and potential to do what Suzy had done, but not the consistent application. They messed about too much and allowed themselves to get distracted.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Suzy was his star pupil. But Mr Keele realised with sadness that he would have to let her go. His small gym class was already becoming too limited for Suzy to progress. After class had finished, he took Suzy aside and handed her a card.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Slightly bewildered, the well toned and muscled girl glanced at the card "Cheryl's - Ladies Only Gym and Fitness Centre".</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"I can't do any more for you lass" Mr Keele admitted, with tears in his eyes "Go and see Cheryl. She's got a bigger gym and better facilities than this place can offer you".</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Suzy felt tearful herself at the prospect of leaving this gym, and Mr Keele behind, but knew he was talking sense. To her surprise, she gave him a hug before turning and walking away.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<br />Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-21858665970315615012012-04-29T07:43:00.000-07:002012-04-29T07:43:59.738-07:00Suzy takes on the world - Part Four - Princess TiffanySuzy sat alone in bed, with the weight of the world on her shoulders.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Her brother, Damian, was involved with some bad people. And there was nothing Suzy could do about it. She couldn't even confide in mum. Not unless she wanted to see her kitten plummet to his death.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
She was very angry with her brother. He had been horrible. A monster, in fact. She didn't speak to him. She didn't want to speak to him ever again.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Suzy was getting fed up of being abused by males and made to beg and she was going to do something about it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But first she had to have that hundred pound deposit for her trip to France. The money and booking form were due tomorrow. She got up. She needed to speak to mum. It was only just past ten o clock and Mum was still up. Suzy snapped her light on.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
To Suzy's astonishment, she noticed a envelope had been pushed under the door. Suzy opened it to find one hundred pounds exactly. There was a note in mum's handwriting "For your French trip. Love Mum".</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Suzy felt like crying with relief. It would get Mademoiselle Penchat off her back for a while. But then Suzy wondered where on earth Mum had found a spare hundred pounds lying around.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As far as Suzy knew, Mum cleaned houses for a number of clients, mainly elderly gentlemen. The most horrible suspicions swirled around inside Suzy's mind. She put the money back in the envelope and went back to sleep.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When she got up for school, Damian had already left, but Mum was still around. Suzy handed Mum the envelope "Thanks for the money, mum, but I can't accept it".</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Mum was astounded "But you need it for your trip to France! That teacher of yours, Madam Penchot, or whatever she calls herself, wrote me a letter. She needs one hundred pounds. Today. Or no trip".</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Mum, I don't need to go to France that badly! I can go next year".</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"You're going this year" Mum said firmly, pressing envelope firmly into Suzy's hand.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"But....where did you suddenly get a hundred pounds from?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"I earned it. Another job came in just at the right time".</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Suzy shook her head "It just doesn't seem right......"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"I see" said Mum "You need to know where the money came from, right?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Suzy nodded.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Mum took a notepad and pen out of her handbag and wrote something on a piece of paper, which she then tore out and handed to Suzy "Be at this address after you leave school. I'll still be working there and you can see for yourself exactly how I earn the money. OK?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Suzy nodded in relief. If Mum was willing to show her what she was doing, it couldn't be as bad as she feared. She made to leave.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Aren't you forgetting something?"Mum prompted her.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Flushing, Suzy smiled and said "Thanks Mum!"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"No, not that. The permission slip. Your French Madam won't be happy if you don't have that!"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Thanks Mum" said Suzy, giving her a kiss.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Mademoiselle Penchat was happy when Suzy was able to give her the permission slip and deposit later that morning. Home Economics, Physics, English Literature and Games seemed to pass in a blur. Belinda Fox and her cronies gave Suzy little trouble beyond a few jibes at her patched skirt. Suzy spotted Kevin playing football with his mates. If he noticed her at all, he didn't show it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Before Suzy knew it, the bell had gone for the final lesson of the day and Suzy was riding the bus to 47 Kenton Road. Suzy had never been in this part of town before. It was the posh end where the well-heeled lived and where people like mum were only the hired help.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Suzy didn't know the area at all and had to ask for directions but eventually found the house. It was one of those old victorian houses. Big and well-built. Suzy rang a brass doorbell and heard a refined chime.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The door was opened by Mum, wearing a plastic apron, and Suzy was admitted. Suzy found herself in a large, long hallway. Expensive looking paintings hung on the walls and there was a big grandfather clock that was much taller than Suzy herself.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Mum directed Suzy where to put her coat and bag and ordered her to take her shoes off, handing her a pair of boy's slippers. Suzy slipped them on. They were comfy. The whole house suggested comfort and well being. It was much nicer than the flat at Royale Mansions.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The silence of the house was disturbed by a cry of "Nanny!" from somewhere above.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"I'm coming, Princess!" Mum shouted up "Suzy, make yourself a cuppa and we'll chat when I get back". Mum disappeared up the carpeted stairs.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Suzy wandered into the kitchen and made herself a drink. She was puzzled because she was pretty sure the voice that cried out had been a man's voice! And Mum had called him Princess! Something weird was going on.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Mum came back about ten minutes later and made herself a drink.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Mum, what's going on?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Mum shook her head "You'll have to see it to believe it" she whispered. "This house is owned by a gentleman called Mr Lancaster. He's in his fifties, retired and very wealthy. Well, he originally employed me as a cleaner and for a few months that's all I did for him. Then, one day, I realised that I had left my purse at his house on my last job and so I went round to collect it. Mr Lancaster wasn't expecting me, or anyone else, and so I unwittingly found out his secret. He was so embarrassed and begged me not to tell anyone. Then, it occurred to both of us that my role here could be expanded, for more money of course".</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Suzy was fascinated by this revelation and dying to know more "So....what's his big secret mum?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"If I show you, you must promise never to tell anyone. Mr Lancaster would die if it ever became public!"</div>
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"OK Mum, I promise".</div>
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"Alright then, come with me and I'll show you".</div>
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Mother and daughter crept upstairs. The hallways and room doors looked ordinary enough. Disappointingly so. Mum went to a cream coloured door, turned the brass handle and let it swing open.</div>
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Suzy's jaw almost hit the floor at what she beheld.</div>
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The room beyond was a perfect bedroom. For a little girl, that is. Pink and white wallpaper with fluffy pink bunnies on it covered the walls. The floor was carpeted in a white carpet with a pale pink rose pattern. The large, double-glazed window had net curtains to conceal the interior from prying eyes and silk curtains trimmed with lace.</div>
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The room was dominated by a large four poster bed, all festooned with lace and other feminine trimmings, with white silk sheets and heart shaped pink pillows. There was a white vanity table and a dresser and what looked to be walk in wardrobes. Then there were two display cases filled with dolls of all shapes and sizes. There must have been over a hundred!</div>
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The "girl", whose room this was, was the oddest thing Suzy had ever seen.</div>
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"She" was at least six feet tall, and stockily built, with large hands and feet. "Her" legs and arms were bare and hairless and "she" wore a pink frock that was much beribboned and trimmed with frills and lace, with lace petticoats, frilled ankle socks and a shiny pair of mary-janes. The "girl" wore bangles and bracelets on her arms and a twinkly necklace. The hairpiece that resembled the blonde ringlets of little girlhood was clearly a wig. The fingernails were painted a glossy pink colour.</div>
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Suzy had to resist the urge to burst out laughing at the sight of this huge man dressed as a little girl. He looked nothing like a little girl!</div>
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The "girl" had her head bowed down in embarressment at Suzy's presence.</div>
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Mum held out a hand and "girl" rushed over and took it gratefully "Princess, I'd like you to meet my daughter, Suzy. You do remember how to greet guests, don't you Princess?"</div>
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"Oh, yes, Nanny!" said the strange creature in a lisping voice. Grasping "her" skirts, Princess bobbed Suzy a curtsey.</div>
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"Very good, Princess! That was a very lovely curtsey! What a good little girl you are!" said Mum sweetly. "Now, be a good girl and play with one of your dollies".</div>
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Beaming happily, Princess romped off and sat down with one of "her" dolls.</div>
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Suzy stared at "her" in disbelief. </div>
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Whilst Princess played quietly, Mum opened up the wardrobe to reveal a vast array of frocks and dresses.</div>
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They went back to the kitchen. Once there, Suzy burst out laughing "It's so funny! Fancy, a big man like that wanting to be treated like a little girl of six!"</div>
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Mum gave a reproachful look "Don't ridicule him. He can't help how he feels. For over fifty years, he's had to completely suppress his feminine side. Now that he no longer has to work and has no family to consider, he can allow himself to be what he wants. It makes him very happy to be Princess. And he pays me very well to be his "nanny" and to keep his secret".</div>
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"Which I know now as well" said Suzy thoughtfully.</div>
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"Yes. You can't breathe a word about this to anyone. I promised Mr...I mean Princess that you were a good girl and can keep a secret. If I hadn't, she wouldn't have let you see her".</div>
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"I won't say a word. It's just priceless though".</div>
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On the way home, Suzy thought about Princess. OK, he looked like a dude in a frock. But once you looked beyond that, Suzy recognised that Princess was capable of being a girl and exhibited classic feminine behaviour such as shyness, innocence and submissiveness, all of which was very endearing.</div>
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And that room had been an oasis of femininity. Princess, Mum had mentioned, had designed the room herself. A mind that could conceive such a room had to be feminine.</div>
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Suzy found all this very interesting. Just as women were often capable of being masculine, men were capable of being feminine, given the right clothes and environment.</div>
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Just think what might be possible Suzy thought.</div>
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<br /></div>Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3324625263350520161.post-41791428105024520882012-04-29T02:03:00.000-07:002012-04-29T02:03:27.817-07:00Suzy takes on the world - Part Three - Oh, Brother!Suzy was noticing some changes in her brother's appearance and behaviour.<br />
<br />
A few weeks earlier, on her way back from school, she had spotted Damian talking to some lowlife on the estate. Suzy suspected that he was a member of one of the many gangs who ruled the estate between them.<br />
<br />
On that occasion, Suzy had shrugged. The gangs were everywhere. It was inevitable that one would end up having to interact with gang members. <br />
<br />
But not all of the time, and lately, whenever Suzy saw her brother it was more often than not in the company of a gang member.<br />
<br />
Then Damian had had his hair cropped. Usually, this was no big deal, but Suzy couldn't help noticing that this was the style in which a particular gang had had their hair cut. Then Damian had had his left ear pierced and a diamond earring inserted into the hole.<br />
<br />
Mum had been quite taken with Damian's new look. Suzy had not been so enamoured. She could see what was happening.<br />
<br />
But Suzy had her own problems. She had a boy who she longed to give her some attention but treated her as though she did not exist and the actual girlfriend of the same boy who would scratch her eyes out if Suzy as much as looked at him.<br />
<br />
Oh, and there was also the trifling matter of finding a hundred pounds in the next forty eight hours to put down as a deposit on a school trip to Paris. Mum worked several cleaning jobs. It wasn't likely that she would have a spare hundred pounds lying around.<br />
<br />
Suzy had been putting off asking Mum but knew that she couldn't put it off any longer. Mum would no doubt wring her hands and go into hysterics. But she would somehow find the money. She always did.<br />
<br />
Suzy went to school as usual, acutely aware that the deadline for submitting the form and deposit for the trip was now less than forty-eight hours away. Between classes, she had passed the French Mistress, Mademoiselle Penchat in the corridor, and the big wobbly teacher had stopped Suzy and reminded her that the form and deposit was due soon. As if Suzy could have forgotten.<br />
<br />
After lunch, however, Suzy had stomach cramps and had to skip the rest of her classes. This was no big deal as Suzy was top of the form in just about every subject. She rode the bus home, in acute pain, but thankfully the cramps had eased off by the time she alighted.<br />
<br />
As soon as Suzy entered the small flat where her family lived, she knew something was amiss. She could hear voices, male voices, murmuring in the living room. One voice she recognised as that of Damian, but the other she could not place. For an instant, she had hoped that it may have been the voice of her long absent father, but that hope was soon dashed. It was the voice of a stranger.<br />
<br />
Damian appeared in the hallway as soon as he realised that he and his guest were no longer alone. His handsome, boyish features showed consternation "Suzy, what are you doing here?".<br />
<br />
"I had stomach cramps, Damian" Suzy explained "Who's your visitor?"<br />
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Damian's features hardened "None of your business, girl! You go to your room!"<br />
<br />
Suzy was shocked. She hardly recognised her brother. He had never spoken to her like this before! But her spine stiffened. He might be her elder brother and technically in charge whilst mum was at work, but Suzy was not going to be ordered around. Something was wrong here, very wrong. Damian's outburst did not suggest someone in control of the situation but someone who was afraid.<br />
<br />
"I'm not going anywhere, Damian, until you tell me what's going on" Suzy replied firmly.<br />
<br />
Damian looked utterly perplexed and at a loss. He clutched at the door frame for support.<br />
<br />
A new voice piped up, more gravelly and masculine than Damian's "Relax, dollface, nothing is going on".<br />
<br />
The owner of the voice replaced Damian in the doorway. He was older than Damian and dressed in a smart suit. He looked like a respectable businessman but Suzy gauged instinctively that he was nothing of the kind. He had a certain aura of someone in complete control, but also of someone where violent tendencies were never far below the civilised exterior.<br />
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"My name is Suzy, not 'dollface' mister. Who are you and what are you doing in our home?"<br />
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The man chuckled "Hey Damian, I like your sister. She got balls! Sorry, SUZY, I'm Ryan. A friend of your brother's. We're just....as you youngsters say nowadays.....chilling out. It's cool. Say, why don't you be a good girl and make us all a cup of tea?"<br />
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Suzy was not impressed by Ryan's attempts to mollify her suspicions. In fact, his whole manner and way of speaking were having the opposite effect!<br />
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"No" Suzy said "I want you to leave. Now please!"<br />
<br />
Ryan's jaw actually dropped! A panicked Damian rushed over to Suzy "Suzy! You can't go talking to Ryan like that!"<br />
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"I just did" Suzy replied flatly. She turned to Ryan "Are you still here?"<br />
<br />
Ryan's features hardened, just as Damian's had earlier. He spoke to Damian "We'll meet again. Later. In the meantime, you might want to teach your kid sister some respect". Ryan marched out. Suzy waited until the front door slammed shut.<br />
<br />
Damian was freaking out "Do you have any idea who you just told to sling his hook? Only Ryan Kirke! Mr Big on this estate! He could have you done away with as quickly as this if he wanted" Damian clicked his fingers to illustrate his point.<br />
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Suzy shrugged. "Mr Big" wasn't likely to employ his vast resources to liquidate a schoolgirl, even a mouthy one. "What were the two of you talking about? Please don't tell me you're part of his gang!"<br />
<br />
"That is none of your business, Suzy! Keep out of my business!"<br />
<br />
"Or what, you'll get your 'friend' to do me in?" Suzy sighed "Can't you see that he's using you? He's just a parasite who uses everyone to get what he wants".<br />
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Damian's features became more determined "No. I don't need Ryan to deal with you. I'm gonna do that myself". He marched into the living room. Suzy followed him fearfully. What the hell had come over Damian?<br />
<br />
Damian walked over to the sofa, where Suzy's kitten, Lucky, was sleeping. He violently grabbed Lucky, who began mewling.<br />
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"Damian! Leave him alone!" Suzy shouted.<br />
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Damian held Lucky up so that Suzy could see him clearly. The poor kitten was trying to wriggle loose, but was no match for Damian's superior strength.<br />
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"I'm gonna teach you some respect girl" Damian told her. He walked over to the glass door that separated the living area of the flat from the balcony of the immense tower block of which the flat was a part, and opened it up. There was a blast of cold air.<br />
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"Damian, what the hell are you doing?" Suzy was frightened now. Not for herself, but for the helpless kitten.<br />
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Damian ignored her. He moved out onto the balcony and held Lucky out over it. The drop was probably over two hundred feet......Poor Lucky could not possibly survive if Damian chose to release his grip.<br />
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Lucky's cries became shriller and more urgent as he realised his peril.<br />
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"Damian! Please! He's a little kitten!" Suzy pleaded.<br />
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Damian smiled, satisfied that he had Suzy begging. "If you say ONE WORD to mum, or anyone else about Ryan being here....". He looked meaningfully at the tiny, struggling form of Lucky "or ever talk to Ryan like you did just now again....and this one will be taking a dive. OK?"<br />
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Suzy hated the idea of having to give in. But, there was a life at stake here.<br />
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"Ok Damian" She forced herself to say "Please give me Lucky"<br />
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Enjoying himself, Damian said "On your knees, girl. Show the proper respect!"<br />
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Suzy forced herself to kneel. For Lucky's sake, not for Damian's.<br />
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Damian said "That's better. You need to learn your place in the scheme of things, girl. And keep that mouth firmly shut. Little girls like you should be seen and not heard". He tossed Lucky into her arms and marched out of the room.<br />
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Suzy comforted Lucky, and stared after her brother. Bastard! Damian, the apple of her mother's eye, had been turned by one of the gangs into a bully and a coward. And he thinks of me as just an insignificant girl who should be submissive, respectful and mute.<br />
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Something inside Suzy's being hardened.<br />
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I'll show him!<br />
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<br />Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09121688557572494335noreply@blogger.com1