Caught and Out

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"This is my story of how I was first caught - and then what happened when I was taken out. I suppose you could call it my personal 'Change-of-Life' from Geoff to Jezebelle".

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Intro - The SisterDom is a group of wonderful women who know that it is important to help their men to access and release their inner girlhood. These women are willing to train and transition their new-girls using a variety of simple techniques, sometimes with a touch of ‘domination’ and strong encouragement. Characters do overlap from story to story.

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CAUGHT and OUT

It's the first time that I've been in this sort of a fix, you know,..... but nothing normally goes wrong when my wife goes out for the whole day. She is not the sort of woman I find it easy to argue with. If she says 'frog', well then I hop!!! On this occasion, she simply said 'enjoy yourself'. I expect she thought that I would slob around watching the box, eating, drinking too much and all that sort of stuff.

Recently, I think she has been getting to notice a few things, so perhaps her comment today had a bit more of an edge than usual. So, it is quite possible that I am about to be discovered doing what any normal man would judge to be ‘a bit out of order’, maybe even ‘perverted’, or ‘disgusting’ or even ‘wrong’. But that’s a problem that I had planned to deal with in the future. Not today. But NOW, right this moment, I am in a spectacular and painful and oh-my-god-what-do-I-do-now situation.

Anyway, I guess you want to know what has been happening and what sort of a fix I am in? Don't you? And – am I in a fix – Yes. My situation at this exact second, minute and moment is not too comfortable. I am about to be discovered in what can only be described to an outsider as ‘in a compromising position’.

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Flashback a few minutes

It's mid-morning, I am sitting halfway up the stairs, barely able to move, frightened to make a sound and terrified that our next door neighbour heard the noise when I fell downstairs and screamed with pain. She might even have brought the spare key.

Beginning to guess are you? Want a few more details?

I am wearing a pair of Anne's knickers (pale peach with lace trim), an old suspender belt that is far toooo tight, some lovely patterned stockings that I dared to buy for myself and an awfully uncomfortable bra padded with her panties; I've got my own shirt on top and a scratchy old skirt that is the only one that fits me.... oh yes, and I am wearing her old heels. More details – I’ve just fallen off those teetering heels and tumbled down the stairs, catching my ankle as I did so and it HURTS.

I can't begin to guess which one of these actually set the whole thing adrift.

I was at the top of the stairs looking at myself in the tall mirror. I was trying frantically to make that horribly tight suspender dig in a bit less while at the same time wriggling just as hard to loosen the bra straps so that I could stand up a bit straighter ... next thing I am wobbling all over the place, falling down the top half of the stairs, screaming like nobody's business and twisting every bone in my body.

Oh God, she is there, she is coming in....

"Hello Geoff, do you need a hand."

I cower a bit deeper into my dark corner of the stairs, but I think I may be a bit too late. I take a deep breath... ooh that hurts.

"Well, say something, do you need a hand. You can't sit there forever especially after making a screech like that. What have you done to yourself? Can you stand up? Is there anything I can do to help? Have you got any idea how silly you look?"

All these questions come out in a continuous rush. I don't have a chance to answer. It was only when Angela asks the last question that she pauses for breath. To my horror, all I do is burst into a pathetic string of meaningless drivel.

"I was only messing about. No I'm fine. Please don't tell anybody. Get out, get out, get out.... no please .... I can't stand up... oh... oh.... Angie...."

Next thing I know, she is half carrying me upstairs and my senses are overpowered by her scent, her heartbeat and the touch of her breasts against my cheek. I am still mumbling stupidly. We stagger past that damn mirror into the bedroom. She eases me gently down onto the duvet and she smirks down at me.

"You are a one. I really don't know what I ought to do with you. Shall I tell Anne? Shall I keep your secret all to myself? Shall I forget all this ever happened? I do think perhaps I ought to tell Anne."

As I grimace at the thought she once again turns into a helping angel. "Oh, I forgot, you must have hurt yourself. Take those things off so I can check you over... at least all those evening classes aren't going to be wasted."

With much heaving, wriggling and whimpering, I manage to get everything important off. Angela doesn't say much for a moment. Suddenly that lovely smile of hers breaks out and she giggles, "I really mustn't tease you, if you need help now, you are going to need much more soon. I mean, if you want to make yourself pretty enough so that Anne won't be ashamed of you, we've got to do something."

I gasp. ( what would you do? )

I gape. ( don't tell me you wouldn't )

"Come on, I think you are OK. No permanent damage anyway... just some colourful bruises that I reckon won't show through dark stockings. Now tell me, are you really into dressing up or are you just playing. I can't help with either unless you tell me the truth."

Tell her the truth? I hadn't even told myself the truth !

"Well, I dunno, I suppose I'm just muckin' about, y'know."

"Tell us another one. You mean to say these tatty old things haven't been rescued from the trash-can over the last few years. You can't mean that."

"No, I don't. I mean they have, but not intentionally, not like you think. I mean I found them and kept them in case they were ever going to be needed again... She's so wasteful. When I came across them last month under the stairs I thought why should they be tossed away, perhaps I can find a use for them. So I did. I can't afford new clothes for myself on my salary. If I can make use of all the pretty things she flings out, well, why not !!"

Angie laughed out loud. "Oh Geoff, you don't need to ramble on like that. If you get some pleasure out of a harmless little game like this, who am I to make a fuss. The only thing I need to do is patch you up physically and do a little listening to a friend who obviously has some problems. I'm not so puritan as you might think. I don't think you're queer, not after that last party with Brenda from down the road. And I don't think dressing up is anything more than a jolly bit of fun. As long as you don't, so to speak, dress up your explanations to Anne too much I won't reveal what a randy little Jezebel you really are. Hey, that's good, your new name... Geoff the Jezebel. I'll call you Jez from now on. It sounds almost the same... gives us a little secret."

Angie tells me that by this time my eyes were out on stalks and I was alternate blotches of ash-white and flaming scarlet. She also says that her next words made me even worse.

"Look, you just wait here, and I'll go and get you some of my own old things, they'll fit you much better and I can help with your makeup too."

Do you know the feeling that shook my whole body? If so, you're lucky. If not, I hope that if God hears you that She'll answer soon.

I lay there in a hazy cloud. Was any of this real? The dull pain in my ankle was real enough. The red marks from the bra straps were real enough. The only thing that seemed too good to be true was everything else. Moments later, Angie hurtled back carrying a large pink carrier.

"These are some things I was going to chuck out soon, it's going to be so much more fun to see you wearing them instead. I think there's almost everything here. Hobble over and take your pick. If there's anything extra we'll just have to work something out."

There were bras, panties, knickers, suspenders, camiknickers, skirts, blouses, bikinis, g-strings even, nighties, negligees, slips, an old corselette, a frou-frou petticoat and all sorts of lovely things with lace, spangles and sequins. There was a small plastic bag full of nail varnish and lipstick and things too. I don't know what made me say it, "The only thing I can't see is stockings. I can't see any stockings."

Angie smiled as before," Well, that's no problem, we can go shopping for those later."

In no time at all, Angie had made me have a hot scented bath, had made me shave really carefully and even forced me to shave under my arms.

Not a moment too soon, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching eagerly as Angie ironed a satiny beige blouse. For me.

Angie turned and snapped," Don't lounge around. Pick out the rest of your outfit. Try them all on, got to find out what's worth keeping for Jez."

No need for another invitation. I scurried over to the carrier. In no time at all I had tried on more feminine fripperies than I had ever worn in all my years. I was on my way to Seventh Heaven or Cloud Nine, whichever came first. I had laid them out on the bed as I picked them out. Waiting for me were pastel panties, lace lingerie, naughty negligees, tempting teddies and all the rest.

As I looked down at these, I looked down at something else. Peeping past the edge of my (very small) paunch was my trouser snake. Angie turned to me, "Can't keep an old friend down, eh. Might have to do something about that later. In the meantime, start getting to grips with that suspender-belt and all those other goodies I saw you stroking."

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It's a wonderful feeling, the first time you get dressed with the help of a real woman. I think it's better than the first time you get dressed from top to toe all on your own. All I know is that the next hour passed like lightning. I was all too soon as dressed up as I had ever been.

The stockings I was wearing when I fell were clipped to Angie's own suspender belt. I also had on short heel sandals from the bottom of the bag. I wore freshly ironed satin rose panties and two creamy petticoats under a calf-length skirt. I wore an almost unused bra but it didn't feel right, and of course I wore the satin beige blouse.

By now I was sitting in front of Anne's dressing table with the boudoir mirrors covered over and my new best friend working away with all the tools of her feminine trade on my horribly male face.

It was getting towards lunchtime when she finished and let me look at Jez in the mirror. Wow. Again the feeling is unbelievable and indescribable. If it's happened to you, savour every moment, otherwise share my pleasure.

My hair that day needed cutting, but Angie the Angel had fluffed it about so that it looked lovely. She had done wonderful things to my complexion and as for my eyes they were so beautiful I nearly cried, until she shrieked, "Don't you dare smudge your eyes or I'll make you really sorry." She had clipped pretty jingly earrings on and they hardly hurt at all after a bit. I could taste the lipstick too. As I put my hands up to my face, my nails gleamed red.

Jez looked grrrrreat. I smiled up into Angie's laughing eyes and we fell into an endless kiss. Well, at least a minute. Eventually we broke apart and said simultaneously, "I love the taste of lipstick."

This made us both peel with laughter. Gradually as Angie caressed me, I relaxed slightly. I slowly stood up as Angie lifted me from the stool. At last, there I was folded in her arms with my chin on her shoulder. Again I smelt her perfume until I suddenly realised it was mine instead. The mingled scent was so much more enticing than the aftershave I had been limited to before. I found myself rubbing myself against her to make my petticoats rustle and slide over my stockings in a way I had never been able to notice before.

Suddenly the tension that had been building up crackled in the air. Angie dragged me over to the bed and put her hands up my skirt. "I've never felt like having an affair with you or with another woman, but the combination of you in a dress is more than I can stand. You make a remarkably sexy little doll with those begging soft brown eyes." She stroked my thighs through the petticoat and I nearly came as she did so.

She stopped for a moment," It really has got you going hasn't it. I'd better be a bit more careful. I don't want to do anything silly but I sure do want to make you know how good a time you can have as a girl round here." She giggled then continued," I am not going to let a good girl screw around on her first date, I think you will have to be satisfied with a level 3." I didn't want to interrupt and ask what a level 3 might be .... I had a suspicion that I would find out soon enough.

Angie slid my skirts above my waist. "Level 0, kiss. Level 1, back seat of the cinema with people watching. Level 2, arts, crafts and handiwork. Level 3, my famous imitation of a turkey going gobble, gobble." As she said the words, she dived into action. Her mouth wrapped around me like a suction pump. Her tongue tickled the tip and her hands worked themselves like a pair of ferrets. I couldn't hold back for more than a few seconds before I came like I had never done before.

Angie gulped and spluttered for a moment then surfaced with that saucy grin still shining out, "That was really something, I've never had one like that from anyone except Patrick, (her husband). What do we do next? Oh yeah, I know, lets go and get you some new stockings unless you've thought of something else that's missing."

I wasn't used to Angie's sudden changes of subject and there was no way that I had recovered from the agony and the ecstasy of the last few seconds, all I could do was lie there and listen.

It would have been better, I think, if I had done more than listen. Perhaps I should have reacted faster. Perhaps I should have resisted when she made me stand up and put on scarf and coat. I certainly should have made more of a fuss when she opened the front door and pushed me out. And I should definitely not have smiled back at her and said," Why not, let's go and buy Jez some new stockings." But that was what happened. Jez was going out into her new world.

I didn't believe my luck.

A few hours after making a complete screaming somersault down the stairs I was a new woman with a new name and a second-hand wardrobe. I was walking down the pavement with a smile of complete abandonment and pleasure with a woman who, until a few hours before, I had treated as 'the woman next door who looks after our cat when we're away'. Now she was Jez's first friend.

What happened in the next few hours is the next instalment. What happened when Anne found out might take a book.

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Part the Second

First time out

Last time I told you how I 'met' Jez for the first time. This time I am going to tell you how Jez went out for her first walk. It might seem funny to you; but learning how to walk is not funny when you have to do it in public. It was the first of many times that day when Jez dived in the deep end. I had never been out like this before; not even to any of the lunatic parties when Anne and I were first going out. I won't admit to being worried about what might happen then but I had never gone overboard at the Tarts and Vicars parties nor at the Naughty Nightwear parties. I had always gone as a Vicar or wearing boxer shorts.

I had never in my wildest dreams believed that I would walk out of my own front door in broad daylight dressed as an attractive girl.

That is what was happening. I was in the great outdoors feeling great. I turned to my next door neighbour who had been so gloriously helpful at the 'birth', looked up at her and said, "If everything is as good as this, Jez might stay around for quite a long time."

Angie's smiling answer was "if you think all that work is going to be wasted on just today you've got another think coming. Speaking of which, I think a few more times like this morning and you will never be able to have a blow-job unless you're dressed for action and you ain't gonna preten' dat you was not enjoyin' dat is ya?. You sure you don't want to turn round and have another workout. Or do we get on with buying you some new clothes?"

I could not argue with her logic. I had enjoyed every second so far. I loved the feel of the wind blowing up my skirt. I loved the sticky feel as my lips clung to each other. I gazed passionately into my lover's eyes and whispered," All I want is for this to go on forever".

We must have looked a right pair. We were hardly fifty yards from my front door acting like a couple of lovestruck lesbians. Angie took control again. "Let's stop wasting time. We've got to get to the shops. There's all sorts of things you need to do this right. I've got a little list of what Jez needs to buy and I've worked out a way to prevent Anne going mad. All I need to do is tell her about Jez and say that Geoff and me are not having an affair but Jez and me are having a wonderful time. When she sees what an attractive husband she has then she can join in too. I know Anne well enough to say that she only worries when she is kept in the dark."

Everything she said was perfectly judged. She was right again and it seemed she did know Anne better than I would have thought. Geoff and Angie were not going to have an affair. Geoff was in love with Anne. Angie was in love with Patrick. Jez and Angie were going to have a great time. And provided everybody was relatively truthful no-one would get hurt.

While we were talking I had unconsciously mastered the heels on my sandals and we had almost reached the shops. We were almost there when I had a complete attack of panic. "Oh No. I can't walk down here. It would be so embarrassing... what if someone recognised me...... what if they called the police.... let me go.... let me go."

Angie shook me into silence. "If you keep yourself under control then no one will notice. If you rush around then you will call attention to yourself which is exactly what you must avoid. Anyway, you've walked all this way and there hasn't been a peep out of anybody. I bet by the time I've finished with you your own mother wouldn't recognise you."

"Come on, we're here already" and so saying, we went into the local shoe shop.

To put things in perspective, Anne had been living here for nearly eighteen months while I finished an overseas contract in Canada. The job had finished a month before and I had been in the area as a genuine inhabitant for barely ten days in the last year. Anne had done most of the travelling. So, it wasn't that likely that I would be recognized in the local area and I had never been into more than a couple of the shops.

I was very grateful to sit down in the shop. I got a bit concerned when the young man saw how hairy my legs were but that is not that unusual even these days. He didn't seem to make anything of it. He seemed more puzzled by the fact that Angie did all the talking. I murmured a few words now and again to improve the act but I don't think it mattered at all. He was simply a salesman doing his job on the pair of legs sitting in front of him. Angie said later that he was known to be as queer as a nine bob note and never looked at the girls. I must say this gave us a private joke as if he had only known what he was missing.

We soon moved on with a new pair of much more comfortable sandals and a cheap pair of much higher heeled glossy black court shoes in the same old pink carrier.

Next stop was the chemists. Angie again did all the talking and we soon left with my own stock of lipstick, eye-shadow, creams, nail varnish and so on. Their selection of stockings had also been severely reduced. I kept on asking Angie to let me pay but she would have none of it.

We went into that mecca for 'girls' – M & S - I bet they don't realize how much they sell to specialists. The quality is so good, the staff never make you feel silly or embarrassed and even better they even take returns with hardly any questions. I didn't know all this till much later - but Angie made me choose several pairs of panties and we must have spent half an hour of intense pleasure in the lingering department.

We even went into the hair salon. Angie seemed to know everybody there and we went through into a back room. For the first time ever I tried on wigs. I wore peek-a-boo pageboy styles. I wore long tresses that tickled halfway down my back. I wore afro-style bubbles and I tried an adorable blonde half-curl style just like Angie herself had. Eventually Angie asked if we could take two with us on approval and the manageress apparently said we could if we left a deposit.

The last stop was down a sidestreet. Angie knocked on a plain door several times before they let her in. We were both ushered through a hallway into a lovely feminine room all covered in frills and flounces. The walls were pale lavender and there was gentle music in the background.

A stern looking woman was seated at a desk. "Hello, Angela, this is the young person you rang me about this afternoon."

I gaped at Angie, who smiled serenely back.

"Be silent, young man."

Oh no, she knew. This was worse. I did not dare utter a sound. It was worse than when I had been waiting on the stair in case Angie came in.

She stood up. "My name is Miss Sterling. You will speak only when spoken to. I understand that you have recently, so to speak, embarked on a new lifestyle. It has been my pleasure to assist several of my acquaintances in similar circumstances. Is that what you want?"

I looked over at Angie. She was still smiling and she winked at me. I took heart at this and said, "It's all so sudden... I don't know really."

This response found little favour. The Sterling person, well, dragon nearly, began a series of questions that made me feel worse and worse.

"Why have you been stealing your wife's clothes?"

"Why have you been buying expensive shoes today?"

"Do you mean to tell me you have been wasting Angela's money?"

"What about these expensive wigs that you have got here?"

I was almost in tears by this time. Angie did not seem to be protecting me at all. When Miss Sterling turned to Angie and said," Do you think it's right for him to waste all this money? How should he be punished?" I could only wait in dread.

Angie hesitated for a moment. "I think we should give Jez a moment to recover. I am sure she wants to stay around. She's had too many excitements in a rush. Let me alone with her for a while and then you'll get your answer."

I was so bewildered. Angie led me to one side of the room and helped me put my lipstick on again. She then held her arms wide for me to fall into. "Don't worry, my sweet Jez. Just relax and let us take all the decisions."

I nodded quietly. I was safe again.

We turned to face Miss Sterling.

She said imperiously," Well?"

I gulped and mumbled, "I'll do whatever you think best."

Miss Sterling almost smiled. Angie gripped my arm tightly.

I was completely taken aback by what happened next. Miss Sterling went into a side room and came back with a small package. Angie said thank you and almost at once we were ushered out into the bright afternoon sunshine.

"Don't look so surprised, Jez. You must have guessed that I knew more than most people about blokes who wear panties. You can't mean to say you're still suffering from the delusion that the whole day has been a first for me too. Miss Sterling has been the finishing touch to my education about transvestites, because that is what you are now, my sweet."

It was the first time I had ever heard that word. But not the last. Angie was going to have to a great deal more talking. I was desperate to learn more about every facet of this fascinating neighbour. I had never heard of any word for wearing women's clothing. Let alone that there might be several people out there in the real world who might be interested in being helpful to girls like me. 'Several' - oh so little did I know.

Would there be ways to meet other girls - would I really be good enough to be attractive both to other girls or, more dangerously, would men get too interested. As long as I never had to do a level 3 on one - ho ho.

From just this one afternoon, I knew that my hours of 'playing around' would never be the same again. I would never be willing to return to the furtive wearing of panties under my suit. I would never be happy with hiding my tights under a bushel if I really was going to be able to go out in daylight with confidence that I wouldn't be detected. If I could get Angie to teach me the things she so obviously knew - oh yes, yes, yes.

"Let's take advantage of the new drinking laws. I need a little drink. How about you?" Without giving me time to answer she had bustled me into the little wine bar beside the bank. My gulp of horror was covered by the surge of excitement that she thought I would be able to get away with being out in a public place, open to scrutiny from men interested in women - and I knew I wasn't a woman..

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Part the Third

Drinks with the boys

Going into that bar turned out to be one of the best things I've ever done. At first I was in a terrible fluster, expecting every moment to be recognised and torn apart as a raving poof. Well, perhaps I exaggerate, but anyway who cares about a little artistic detail. Angie bought the drinks as I had only a few pence in my little red purse. We sat at the bar on the high bar stools. I didn't like it teetering on my heels while I wriggled onto the shiny leather but I managed. Angie grinned as I might have expected.

"I do love the way you wriggle that bum of yours" she whispered, "lets see if we can attract a bit more attention to those legs." As she said this she dropped her matches. There was a bit of a race to see who got there first. I nearly joined in but decided that being a gentleman in skirts was not the easiest thing to do.

She said later that if I had climbed off the stool I would have exhibited quite enough leg to fetch a few wolves but that sitting there blushing as they looked up my skirt was even more effective. I don't like to boast but we were surrounded by really dishy men. There were two of us and four of them; Blazerman; Suede-Jacket; Stripe-Shirt and Red-Tie. Things soon got complicated with Angie trying simultaneously to show me how exciting it was being a girl and next moment protecting me from making a fool of myself.

Time just flew, we had shared rather too many bottles before we could get away and I had been foolish enough to give Angie's address to the persistent Suede-Jacket Andrew.

In fact we had drunk so much that I just had to make a dash for the toilets. Fortunately Angie had her eyes open for I naturally followed the boys as they went off. She grabbed me just a few inches from the door. We both dissolved into a fit of giggles as we dived into our own sanctuary. Luckily, there was no-one else in there as she panted out how lucky we had been. Even more fortunately the boys hadn't noticed anything, although perhaps they would just have treated it as a joke.

Having got past that hurdle, Angie helped me tidy my dress, touched up my makeup once more and we set off home.

I was so much more relaxed than I had been when we set out a few hours before. I felt good. I loved the swish of my frills against my stockinged legs. I loved the swirl of the cool air around my thighs. I loved the feel of the bra constricting my chest. It was all so great.

I hardly noticed the old biddies watching through their curtains as we sauntered across the park. I was rejoicing in being the new me. I did get worried the nearer to home we got. As I said before, it wasn't very likely that we would meet anyone but you never know. In fact we only met one neighbour on the way and old Mrs Jones was no problem. She wasn't one of the 'old nosies' you find all about.

Angie took a quick look around when we got to the front door so that we could dive into her flat if some-one was too interested. No problem. We scurried into our flat and dived into each others arms.

"That was really fun" we both said together. "What next" said I.

"That's obvious, now we've got to get you ready to meet your friend Geoff's wife Anne. She has never met Jez, has she. So, we need to make a few decisions. As you suggested before we went out, if Anne is told the truth then she'll be perfectly happy, and I agree I know her that well. Let's get you tidied up and get all the details right." With this she rummaged into the bags we had heaped in the corner and pulled out the little package from Miss Sterling.

"This'll help you." 'This' was what appeared to be a small lump of pink rubbery stuff. Yes. Top quality fake boob. As soon as Angie had helped me get dressed with my new bra and these wonderful fillers I could only agree. They did help. I no longer had a chest with a bra, I had breasts as good as any I had ever seen bouncing down the street.

Angie looked at the clock, "Right, there's about an hour to go before Anne is expected home - we must be really quick. You - go and wash all this afternoon's makeup off. I can set you up with a proper evening tart look that you will just drool over some other time, but first I want to present Anne with a sweet clean wholesome target so that she can see how much fun Jez can be."

I hurtled into the bathroom, tip, tap, tip, tap on the wooden floor. I took off the wig and scrubbed my face until I looked horrid. Angie giggled as I went back in and muttered something like "can't have this on a regular basis, you look terrible like that. Sit down, brush your wig, and do not speak until I say you are ready."

We went through the whole makeup routine again - but much more quickly. Angie smiling and saying, "It is so different doing someone else's face. I can't wait to get back into practice. I've forgotten how much fun it is putting all that training to good use."

"It makes such a difference having the right colours and the proper blusher and everything. You just won't recognise yourself when I've finished. That casual look this afternoon just wasn't right".

I began to say "I thought I looked lovely" - but she glared at me as if to say "don't you dare smudge my work before it's ready". I stopped. I just adored the feeling of letting someone else take control.

All too soon, she was done, I had on my new blue panties with the lacy white trim, my new stockings clipped to my matching suspenders, my 38 B bra was snuggled tight and over it all I had what Angie said was a size 16 Princess-style cotton dress. My new face peeped out from behind a darling fringe. I didn't recognise my expected male features under the gloss of ruby lipstick, nor did I see my ordinary eyes under their new camouflage. I looked more like a 19 year-old than 29. I felt wonderful. I felt myself too until Angie saw me and slapped my hand away - "There's enough time for that later".

We went downstairs because Anne would be arriving within the next five or ten minutes. Angie made me sit in the "visitor's chair" rather than in my own customary spot. She tried to make me curl my legs under like a real girl but it was much too uncomfortable at first, so I just sat carefully with my legs together so that non-one could see up my dress - Jez had to be a good girl the first time she met Anne.

Angie sat there glowing with glee, but only the twinkle in her eye gave her away. She made a cup of tea for herself, but would only give me a glass of 'slimming' mineral water with a slice of lemon. I began to realize that this was not just an afternoon's entertainment for her.

As the door opened, I began to shake and tremble until the Angie-glare stopped me in mid-quiver. Anne swept in as usual, without barely a glance at me until she had dropped her briefcase and poured herself the usual Tonic and Gin. Yes, I know it should be Gin & tonic - but not the way Anne pours the first one every evening.

Almost at once she turned to Angie and said, "What on earth are you doing here, where is Geoff and who is that little girl in the corner. What is happening here and do you know when Geoff will be back." Like Angie, Anne believes never asking one question if you can get three or four out in the same breath. It must be something they teach in girls' schools.

Angie hesitated for a moment, "I think I know where Geoff is, and I am sure that he will be back as soon as you want him to be - that's two of your answers. As for what is happening here - I came over to see Geoff as I heard that he was having some sort of a problem. Anyway, I sorted that out and then took this new friend of mine out shopping. I think Jez looks very nice, don't you." And as you can tell - she hadn't told a single lie. She might have been a little 'miss'leading though.

Anne, in her turn, looked puzzled, "What do you mean, back as soon as I want him to be. Are you trying to be deliberately tiresome. Aren't you going to at least tell me what this Jez is doing here."

"Come on, Anne, Jez is my friend, although I do think that you want to come over and have a closer look. You have actually met her before - quite recently."

As she said this, Angie pulled me to my feet, swept me forward so that I was standing just in front of her - and then she goosed me. I leapt forward shouting "Don't do that" and I can't say that I managed the polite teenage manner suitable to my attire. Angie grinned with delight as Anne's eyebrows rose towards the ceiling.

"What - you don't mean .......... What, that's my Geoff...., What have you been doing together.... You must have taken ages ...... where did you get all that stuff, it's not mine and it certainly doesn't look like yours." Even in such extreme stress, I was frantically glad that she didn't accuse me or Angie of anything too bad.

I grinned - eventually - and for the first time spoke my magic name - "Hello, Anne, my name is Jezebelle, I am so glad to meet you, I think I know your husband Geoff. He had to go out, but Angie has been ever so helpful. I just don't know how I would have found the time to meet you without her. Would you like to help me get ready to go out again?"

By now, there were three blonde-haired grins stretching from ear to 'ere. Yes, more bad grammar but it's such fun to write.

"I'm not sure that I want to know what's been happening here, but if you don't tell me every little bit about this little glamourpuss I am going to give her absolute hell. What do you mean, again."

Angie smiled more gently now, and we all sat down. I was careful to be properly neat and I saw Angie glance at me and wink. "Right, Jez, I was right wasn't I." I nodded assent, feeling my borrowed plumage swing and fluff against my cheek as I did so. "Right, Anne, let's tell you everything." And in her one words, which sounded very different from mine, Angie began to tell the story you've just heard.

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Part the Fourth

Angie's version.

"I was just getting ready to go out - you know I have so little to do work-wise at the moment - so I was going out for a gossip and a coffee with Brenda - our local gossip-queen - when I heard a bump and a crash through the wall. I knew that you had gone out and that Geoff was on his own - but I did think that he had gone out too. Anyway, I grabbed the keys, and rushed in to see a poor huddled mass halfway up the stairs. I couldn't help myself, I just had to interfere. I made him tell me that it was only a game, but I wanted to make him realize what a super opportunity he had to have fun. I made him have a shower while I rushed back here and grabbed all the things that I wanted to have an excuse to clear out - I know that sounds horrid - but this would give me a wonderful excuse to go out and buy myself some new gear. I zoomed back, and did his makeup while he wriggled around in his borrowed undies. I think he was starting to see how much effort we have to put in to keep MEN happy and interested."

"Anyway, as soon as I had Jez, I couldn't call him Geoff once he had that coral red lipstick on, as soon as I had Jez dressed up I just couldn't wait to take her out into the sunshine. I was panting inside with the plans I had for us all to have some fun - I just couldn't sit inside until you came home or I would have kissed all her makeup off. I suppose that's a bit obvious, but she did look so lovely and, with that built-in advantage that men have, I was juicing up as quickly as Brenda does. I had a real problem keeping my hands off." She glanced over at me and I smiled. Then she continued, "Mind you, while I kept my hands off, I'd better admit that he does have a lipstick ring of confidence unless it's washed off already. I just couldn't resist - sorry, Anne."

I gulped and leant over towards Anne. She glared at me and said, " I'll make you sorry for that when I've heard the whole gory story."

Anne interrupted, "I suppose this is when you went out for the first time, huh."

Angie nodded, "Yep, we went to the shoe shop and got some lovely 3" heels for her, and we have two wigs on approval as well as lots of frillies. All that's left is some proper nightwear and some more slinky stuff for the clubs. I mean. I can't do it all myself, I had to leave some of the fun to you. Jez is just so sweet in the shops. She stands there blushing like a rose, trying to hide in the corner at the same time as she wants to run from counter to counter running her hands through the satins and silks. She doesn't seem to go for the cheap stuff, so you had better be warned.

Anne glared at me again, "So I was right when I accused you of being in my undies drawer, I couldn't work out what exactly was happening but am I right in thinking this has been going on for months already?"

"Oh no, I've never been out or anything, and I certainly had no idea that Angie was even the faintest bit interested."

"What do you mean interested, she's been after you ever since you go here, didn't you know? Anyway, it looks like she's at least as interested in Jez as she is in Geoff. I am glad that she has made you buy your own undies, I really hate the idea of you messing about with mine, they don't fit you at all and they are far too delicate for casual mauling."

It was my turn to get irritated, "If you had realized that I was going through your undies, you must have realized that if anything I put them back more neatly and I certainly would never maul your things - they're just too lovely, I so love them when you wear them and when you let me undress you, I just had to try them for myself and see if the feeling was anything like as good - and it wasn't. At least, not until today, when I realized that a bit more effort and a bit more care made all the difference. I feel as if, Oh, I don't know, I feel that if someone up there felt like it, they could flick their fingers and I could - woops - gone too far now - just go on like this whenever I wanted and it would be wonderful."

Anne looked flabbergasted, "Why didn't you tell me. I thought I had some nasty messy panty-wanker. Why didn't you make me see that you wanted to join the SisterDom. I mean, Angie and I have had so much fun talking about old times with her brothers and their sisters, we must have had our eyes closed."

If I had thought earlier that Angie was more knowledgeable and more involved than I had expected, some of the recent comments were really beginning to make me wonder what was going on. What did she mean, her brothers and their sisters. I stood up. "Lets get on with it, we said it was time to go out, so lets go."

Almost before I had started, Anne had grabbed my wrist and pulled me back onto the sofa, "not so fast, girly, Angie and I are making the decisions now. You just sit back while we make some plans for your immediate future and perhaps, maybe, some longer term plans too. You can't have it both ways. If you dress up like this you are not my husband unless I want you that way. If you dress up at all, either I don't know about it or you dress properly and make a real effort to do your share. You just sit there or else. If you can peel off that dress and peel on a decent macho image permanently - well then, you may be able to persuade us this was just a little slip. On the other hand, if you are enjoying this as much as it seems and as much as the pole in your panties shows me, then you're stuck. You are mine, girly, till death do us part. I made my promises and you'll lie in my bed and like it."

I sometimes hate it when she mixes her cliches like that and still makes it sound sensible.

"Come on, Angie, she's ready for a bit of a workout and then we can go out on the town."

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Part the Fifth

Three girls get ready

So, we went upstairs, Angie in the front pulling me. Anne behind me fondling me behind and stroking me through my panties till I could barely stagger. We reached the bedroom where my first transformation had occurred so few hours before.

Anne helped me take off all my lovely things. The bra had made clear marks and she ran her finger down them and murmured, "the straps must be a bit tight, can't have that." She slipped my, my, panties down my stockinged legs and the glissade was so lovely that I shook with delight. She then did the same for herself.

Angie and Anne pulled me about like the rag dolly on the bed - first, they made me try on both my, yes my, bras - again I wriggled with pleasure and they both smiled and stroked me once more into a fever of excitement. Next, I put on the red dress, then the pink skirt, then her own black leather skirt, then the pink skirt again with two slips - which made a lovely frou-frou. Last of all, they made me try on a horrible scratchy boob-tube which I complained about loudly - so instead they made me choose between the loveliest frilled pale cream blouse and a soft pink silk-style blouse with almost see-through sleeves. I murmured that I couldn't wear the pink one with hairy arms and Anne said - "Well, they needn't be hairy for long - but I agree, we don't have time now. It will have to be the cream tonight. Get moving, turn round so I can do the buttons. No, let's see you try. I bet you can't even reach them yet."

I did try, but she was right. I could get one or two buttons but I wasn't even close to buttoning them. I was closer to breaking my wrist, fingers, collarbone and brain by the time the two monsters had finished crying with laughter.

At last, Anne tottered over to me and did the business. She murmured in my ear, "Don't push your luck. You are supposed to be a nice sweet girly - just like Angie says. If you don't stop getting us worked up while we work you over - you will never, ever be forgiven." Once more, her hands drifted slinkily over my despairing, desperate, aching flesh.

I was getting more and more excited until Angie snapped on the makeup lights and pulled me towards the stool.

"Don't get your hopes up, there's no time for that right now. You are going to get ready for an evening at the club and Anne is not going to rape my friend Jez while I am waiting to have a good time out. I dare say that it may be a long sleepless night but that depends - doesn't it. I mean, if you aren't a good girl then you will get no reward - will you."

Anne was already in the shower but she could still hear what Angie said somehow. "That's right, Angie, you tell him. If he doesn't do his utmost to be a real good sister, then he does not get to keep his lovely party outfit and he certainly doesn't get invited to sleep with his friend Geoff's wife AnnaBella."

"Okay, Angie, lets go for it. You make me look like a million dollars and we will all go to the ball."

"No way, Jose. Tonight, we can get you all dolled up, but for the million dollar event we wait until there is a ball. Your legs may be smooth, but they need more work and less hair. Also we certainly can't rely on a wig at a proper event so you will not be getting your hair cut unless we say so, and finally, YOU don't get to go to any ball unless we know that you can, so to speak, hold a ball and your partner can't tell."

"What do you mean. You're not going to make me dance with other men. I don't want to do anything like that. I love Annie, even though I can spare some for you. I am not queer, and I won't dance with blokes."

"Come on, don't be so silly. If the three of us go to a party, there is absolutely no chance that I won't get a wolf if I want one. There is also no chance that a self-respecting wolf won't be drooling over an apparently partner-less Anne, so that leaves you on your own. You can't partner Anne because Geoff won't be there. You can't be a wallflower because then you fail your qualification exam for the SisterDom, and you won't be sitting on your own because I am going to make you good enough to eat - or at least nibble. You're on the horns of a dilemma and you had better lie back and make plans to enjoy it."

I laid back so to speak, and Angie began to do my first evening make-up. First the base, then the blusher, then the first eye-colour and the second and the third. The bright lights hurt my eyes, but I watched every dab of the brushes eagerly, keen not to miss a moment of my education. I had never watched anything like it. I had never really given more than a casual glance while Anne spent so much time sitting in this spot and nor had I really noticed the final results that much. Not until it was my turn. As Angie dabbed the merest trace of mascara on my lashes, Anne came up behind me and hugged me tight. "This is going to be a good night. Now budge over, I need to freshen up as well. Move that little girly ass over and make room."

I did love the way she kept calling me 'girly'.

I decided to wind them up a bit, but carefully, so that they wouldn't prevent me going out in my new feminine loveliness. "Why do you keep calling me 'Girly'. You've got to remember I'm your husband and I don't want you to forget it."

"You're priceless, darling. Are you trying to say - Don't forget I'm the one who wears the panties round here. You'd better not be trying to put your foot down; you'd just trip over in those heels. And you'd better not be trying to get out of this. Angie and I have something much more exciting than a toy-boy. We've got a toy-girl, albeit it with a boy-toy, who will not dare to misbehave while we are out with her. You are going out - We are going to party - We are going to do our best to make an exhibition of you, if not tonight, as soon as we feel you can behave yourself in decent company. You will be my husband in bed or wherever the whim takes me but when Jez goes out she will be a real girly-girl or I want to know why."

I didn't argue, I was speechless. There seemed to be only one solution - either I was going to burst into tears or - so I pulled her to me and wasted layers of lipstick. Both options just emphasised to me how much 'girl' I had in me and how much more easily I was letting it show.

I had never realized how right those magazines were. I knew that I had been fond, to say the least, of panty-wearing, panty-fondling and even panty-wanking but just a few hours had made me realize that I was no longer 100% macho.

Angie pulled me away with a glare, "Don't you do that now, even though I know you love the feel of lipstick, we don't have time to waste. Anne, chop chop. We've got to get to the club so that Jez can get settled before it gets crowded."

Rush, rush, hustle, bustle. In moments we were all ready. I was allowed to look in the mirror at last. I just gaped. Instead of the young girl of the afternoon, there was a much more sultry looking 'real woman' in her mid twenties. She had much more makeup than I liked to see - but it made her look thrilling to my new eyes. There was a tiny dab of glitter to emphasise that 'she' knew what she was about.

Anne bent down and gave two more stabs to my male ego. First, she clipped a slave bracelet round my ankle, "That's a slave bracelet, girly. Just you realize who you belong to when we go out." Then she bent me over her lap and spanked me a few times with the hairbrush while she crooned, "Slaves get beaten, girly, slaves get beaten, girly and you are going to love it. That's a warning."

It wasn't hard enough to make me cry, or even hard enough to hurt too much, but it was enough for a warning. She had never done this to me before but it made me stretch my panties - I didn't come - but we all realized that Jez was reacting in a very suitably slaveish manner.

I nearly swooned. The A team smiled at each other again.

Anne and Angie first made me walk to and fro so they could check that I was walking 'properly'. All Angie said was, "Just take slightly smaller steps and you'll be fine. Somehow, you've learnt how to sway your hips in one afternoon. You'll make all the others jealous."

Anne interrupted, "Angie, how about not telling them. I mean, Jez does look pretty good." She turned to me, "Jez, darling, we have got to sit down and do some ultra quick planning. Angie, I want to change our original idea. Jez, we have been planning this for weeks. Ever since I realized that you were just as likely to be a girly as a panty-wanker, I've been planning with Angie to give you a proper session to see which is what and who is he.

"The original plan was to take you out for the evening to a club we know where the boss is very tolerant of girls and girlies. As you can guess, there is a bit of a difference between the two. In case you are confused, YOU are a girly and we are girls. The ordinary punters never quite know what the score is with the crowd in the corner, but they spend pounds and pounds trying to chat them up. The girls make sure that they are close by if anyone gets a bit tiresome or if any of their girlies looks like being found out. Its great fun and we were going to take you. But, now that I've had a look at my pretty little Jezebelle, I know that you are good enough to mix with the girls themselves.

"Normally, the girls make sure that the girlies are always on their feet, practising, so to speak, while they relax. I'm sure that some of them are lezzies, the way they make their girlies behave. It's not really fair, it's almost like they were pimps making their girls prick-tease all the fellas. Fortunately, most of the blokes are regulars and they know that its all 'Touch me once, touch me twice and that's your lot'.

"If you want, and this is the only time that you have a choice, you can be one of the real girls. The problem is, if you only dance now and again, the men know that this means you are a little more willing. It will be much more annoying to the other girls if we bring someone as good looking as you and make it clear that you are not just made-up for the evening.

"If you can carry it off, I'll make you so happy to be my girl that I'll even let you make some of the rules."

It was clear that there were going to be some changes in our household. I could only mutter, "I don't know what you want. I know what I want and I had never even guessed until today. This morning I was just a panty-fondler (I wasn't going to admit to being a panty-wanker - yukk ), but after Angie made me see, and feel, that pretending and messing about with oddments that didn't fit was silly, that it was so much more wonderful to do the job properly, well, I want to be as much of a girl as possible as much of the time as possible as long as possible and as long as you love me."

"Oh yes," said Anne, with a glitter of tears in her eyes, "Oh yes, that would be so much more fun. I know how good I feel when your prick is stuck deep and decent. You are never going to lose that, but I want so much more to have this little beauty cuddled up to me as well. I'm not going to admit to more than a few lesbian urges, thank you Angie, but when I realized that you had made Jez look so good in just one afternoon, I just knew that I could have a husband and a sister all in one. Jez may have had a busy day, but tomorrow really will be the first day of the rest of her life."

"I want to help you be the girl of my dreams. I want to dress you up, show you off, rip off your panties, lick your great big boy's clitty. I want to see you in virgin white, in lecherous leather. I want you to know that our marriage is going to be full of fun."

"Can't we start now, do we have to go out," I asked.

"Of course we are going out. Angie and I have planned an evening out and you are coming with us."

Even though I hadn't given any answer yet, I trusted them both to take care of me. Whether I behaved as a girl or a girly would be up to me. I knew that if I had enough confidence I would be able to cope with almost anything.

As we walked into town, Anne and Angie managed simultaneously and in stereo to tell me more about the plans for the evening. "We know a group of girls who look after girlies. We have only been on the fringes as we have never had one of our own. Once Angie rang me to say that she was pretty sure you were hooked, we've been planning to join the club. They all go to this club every Tuesday and we were going to take you there too. But, and its a bit more risky, because they will go mad when they realize, it's usual to make it very obvious who is which. Some of the girls are rather butch and make their girlies behave more like lezzies than anything else. One of the girls has even been trying really hard to steal a girly of her own.

Now, our original plan was just to go along with you as our own girly and make it fairly obvious that you were 'just a good friend'. But now that I've seen my sister Jez, I don't want to do it that way. I want to take you along as my real sister. This will be a much bigger coup when, or rather if, we let them find out."

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Part the Sixth

Into the Bar

And - How do you deal with a casanova?

We reached the club and Angie led the way in. Anne leant towards me and said, "I hadn't forgotten, but it's your choice. You have about half an hour to decide, we won't make it obvious either way. If you want to be a girly then everyone will look after you. If you are going to pass as a genuine girl then only Angie and I will be able to look after you."

As we climbed the steps, I did enjoy the knowledge that it was my own shoes going tip, tap on the polished wood floor. Angie looked over her shoulder and told us, "There's only the usual crowd - about 20 or so already. Archie the Wolf is by the bar."

Automatically, I looked over to the bar. This one was much more attractive than the four we met at the winebar. He was just over 6 foot tall so I had to look up at him a little from my 5' 7" plus heels. He was early thirties so much closer in age to Anne than myself. Perhaps I stared a little longer than was polite. My hands went up to my hair to check that there were no wandering curls. I turned as I got a dig in the ribs from Anne.

"What on earth are you doing. You don't come into a club, gaze starry-eyed at the first man you see and fluff your hair like that. Are you just asking him to come over and sweep you further off your feet. I'd almost think you'd had a massive hit of hormones and pheromones rather than just a couple of hours in drag."

I winced, "Sorry, darling, I don't know what I was thinking of. You'd better keep an eye on me."

"I'll do better than that. If you don't behave, I'll tie you in knots faster than a Turkish slaver ever did to his harem. I don't mind what you do this evening, but I will not have you drool over an average wolf like that Archie. You're not experienced enough to deal with that yet."

I subsided as girlishly as I could, but I couldn't help peeping up through my eyelashes to check if the Wolf had noticed me. Another dig.

"Don't do that either. Tart."

Angie came back with the cocktails. "Tequila Sunrise, for you Anne. Mixed Fruits for you, Dishy, and Bloody Mary for me. You will be getting no alcohol until we think its safe, Jez darling. You may want enough to relax you but we need to be sure that you are in control."

We settled back into the soft leather settees lined around the alcove. Only Anne could see the corner of the bar where the Wolf was sitting. We continued talking about the events of the day and what we could do the next day. I didn't talk very much, and when I did I tried to be careful.

As the first nervous rush passed, I fell into using a much softer voice than usual and, indeed, I found myself using a gentle lilt. As I did so, I realized that I should now be more grateful to my Gaelic stepmother and the many holidays I had spent in the Highlands.

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Part the Seventh

Gaelic memories

I had forgotten the long summer holidays spent in gentle strolls along the loch with my cousins. They wore a kilt all day winter and summer, but I had cried furiously the first time I had been made to wear one. I had arrived late one night and my cousins had been down in the town before I woke. Steppy, as she had always been known, had stood over me in my snug little bed.

"Oot ye come, time to rise. I've put yuir clothes awa' and taken a spare kilt from Alastair. I'll help ye put it on this fust time. Now dinna greet. Ah canna ha' ye dressed different fra' y' cousins. Ye'd stick oot like a glamish. In the proper tartan, ye'd be fine.

Those turned out to be magic months. I had eventually come to love my kilt. Alastair, Megan and Mhairi had been wonderful companions to a woeful 8 year old. I wiped a tear from my eye, carefully so as not to smudge, as I remembered how long it was since I had seen them.
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Anne saw how careful I was being with my voice, "You're doing fine. I had forgotten how lovely and soft you speak when you use the Gaelic. It's going to be a useful trick."

We had taken the second alcove which had only a few other girls in it. The first alcove was full - over a dozen - with a high-pitched cacophony tinkling like the glasses on the table. Some new girls had arrived and joined us. They recognized both Anne and Angie and I realized that this was the first 'moment of truth'.

"Hi, Angie, What's been happening recently. Hi, Anne, got the A-team with you tonight. Who's your friend?"

"Hello, Karen, meet Jezebelle. She's not as naughty as her namesake in the bible. She's a friend from out of town. She's never been to a club like this so we have to be nice to her, it's all a bit of a surprise to her so far. Jez, meet Karen, Jenny and her girl Thomasina."

I flicked a glance at Anne. Could a girly be identified by having such an conspicuous name. It couldn't be that obvious. If it was, was Jez a girl name or a girly name. At least she hadn't called me Geoffabelle.

It became clearer as a moment later she introduced the other girls in the alcove. It was becoming more apparent that everyone knew all the others well and that I would be quite noticeable as a newcomer. I would have to make my decision soon.

"Jez, you must meet Sally, Teresa and their sisters Joanne and Elizabeth."

Phew, the names were not a giveaway but it was pretty clear that the word sister had a special meaning. And so did the phrase ‘her girl’.

I decided to keep things as open as possible. I had already realized that I would need to gush in as much as possible and to use as many sweet, lovely, pretty words as would fit. "Hello, its my first time here, this seems such a lovely place to meet new friends. I know Anne and when I came to town today and she said she was going out I said, how super, and would there be room for little me." I could hardly stop.

The evening was wonderful. The girls were interesting and eager to share their skills at training their girlies. Most of these were husbands, but several were brothers or cousins and one or two were neighbours or workmates. They talked about the quality of the local shops and which assistants were particularly helpful. There was a lot of heated discussion about the amount of force necessary at certain times. Words and phrases new to either of my selves peppered the conversation. What on earth was a 'gaff'? Why was it of such importance for a 'new girl' to get accustomed to one? I was learning all the time.

I spent a long time talking with Teresa. She was a tiny brunette with an impish smile. I saw her waving at lots of the other girls and taking notes too. I had to ask her what she was doing. Her story was quite stunning. I found out that she had been working with her sister for the last few years making a deliberate effort to transform local boys into gorgeous girls.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tangent

Teresa’s story

It had started when they were students with a flat behind the Town Hall. They had only been able to get boys to share. They were getting fed up with this, the mess and so on. Eventually, when yet another mucky failure had left and the interviews had found no new girl, they had sat alone talking and drinking with Antony, the newest recruit. And they had drunk a lot. "It's such a nuisance, the boys are alright but they're so untidy and unhelpful. It means that we can't study properly either."

The new flatmate had made the crucial suggestion. "I don't mean to be messy, but girls do put more effort into tidying up. If you made the rules tougher and I had to do the work or pay a fine - I could get used to that. I might complain a bit, but this looks like a nice flat so .... I should do my share, shouldn't I."

The idea had seemed appropriate so the new regime had begun. Antony had done his share of the cleaning and so on - his proper share of all the important jobs. If anything, Antony had done more than his share of the washing and ironing. Sally had commented on this one time, but he had smiled and said he didn't mind.

Then one day, Teresa had come in unexpectedly from a lecture and through the open bedroom door seen their apparently asexual lodger stepping into a pair of panties. She had flipped. "What the hell's going on here. I knew we made it clear that you weren't going to bring girls round here without checking and you definitely weren't to try anything with us - but stealing our panties. That's horrible. You can pack up and leave tonight."

"Excuse me. Stop being so outraged, these aren't yours or Sally's. As if I would be so stupid as to steal your things, for a start they wouldn't fit me. So please leave my bedroom while I finish getting dressed."

Teresa said she couldn't believe it. If they weren't her panties then whose were they. After a few minutes, she knocked and said, "I'm sorry I flew off the handle, but I need to know what's going on. Can I come in."

[Please wait for the longer version coming soon called “Training Stories” Alys P ]

* * * * *
At this interesting moment, we were interrupted. Anne leant over and said, "Jez, I want you to meet Jennifer. She is the organiser of this evening. I thought that it would be helpful to get you membership. But Jennifer says that you can't join immediately. There are already too many tutors and not enough new-girls. I know this is a bit of a shame, but you can come along as a visitor instead."

I carefully avoided looking at Anne. I knew that she was concealing her own delight at passing me off so successfully in front of a crowd of very well trained observers. I shrugged and flicked my hair to one side. "Well, perhaps some time later", I murmured in the lilt I was already getting so used to.

Anne moved along to sit beside me so I couldn't continue with Teresa. I was a little disappointed by this as I was learning so much from her. Anne said later that she had noticed this and actually interrupted on purpose before I made it too obvious that I was learning from her. A 'real girl' with some knowledge of the SisterDom would not have reacted to the story in the way I was. She had prepared the ground by saying that I was new when she introduced me to Karen, but perhaps Teresa hadn't heard.

"How do you feel, darling? Everything alright? I hope Tess hasn't been telling you too many stories about her life as a student and the post-graduate study Sally did on gender." I blinked. I hadn't guessed that Sally had been able to turn her game into a research project.

I spoke to Anne for a few minutes, asking questions about the other people in the club. There were about 40 altogether. The waitresses in rather revealing white catsuits were obviously ordinary girls - 'wrong'. The ordinary crowd were mostly girls and sisters and there were about half a dozen men. I was wrong there too. Two of the men were girls.

Anyway, because I was looking at the others, I found that they were looking at me. In a minute, Charles came straight over to our table. He was a slim-built man in his mid-thirties, about 5' 10" wearing well-cut trousers and a thin silk shirt. I don't think that the old me would have noticed what he was wearing but I was finding that all my senses were working differently from normal.

With encouragement from Anne, I eventually accepted an invitation to dance from Charles. He wasn't nearly as dangerous as the Wolf, but on the other hand, I had almost been looking forward to seeing how I would cope with that one. The music changed from an old rock and roll number to a slow smooch as we stepped onto the floor. I suddenly found myself in his arms, my head snuggled into his shoulder. My hand was on his shoulder and I felt the warmth of his skin through the thin shirt. My hand became a little sweaty and as I moved it across his shoulder I could feel the ripple of muscle under my fingers. I could feel his passion too - well, he had a big, hard stiffy against my thigh.

As we moved across the floor, I realized that he was a really good dancer. To my surprise, I had no trouble being led. In fact, the whole thing was so slick that I never even blinked when he gave me a thorough kiss to thank me. Although I did wriggle as his hands smoothed over my bum. Anne and Angie waited with bated breath for my comments as I was returned to the table.

"I saw you. You really enjoyed that. There is no way that you didn't. You just opened your lips to the first man that gave you a smooch. Then you ground your hips against his like a hula-hula girl. You're a naughty little lust-bucket - so you're being taken home at once."

We hadn't been the first to arrive and we weren't the first to leave. I was both horrified and delighted at how easy it had been. As we walked out, we giggled and fluttered like any group of girls leaving a party.

By the time, we reached the house, I found I was very tired. The flood of new sensations had absolutely exhausted me. Perhaps a few hours of tottering around on 2" heels had contributed too. As we struggled up the stairs, Anne noticed and told me to go straight to bed, she would be along in a moment to help remove the makeup and so on.

I smiled with pleasure as I stripped off my dress and got ready for bed. I left the bra and falsies on and, eventually, I was ready. Anne passed me my fabulous new satin nightie and led me to the bathroom for instruction in how to scrub off Jezebel's face. As every hour passed, I was getting more encouragement in my new life-style. Yes, it's true. I was already beginning to see this as a real Change-of-Life. I was dizzy with the emotions surging through my head.

Anne came to bed a few minutes later. I was very sleepy but I had a feeling that I ought to 'be a man' - despite my clothing - and take control of the situation. I didn't have a chance.

She slipped into bed and I heard the swoosh as her satin nightie slid across the sheets towards me. I had no time to turn to face her. She eased herself into a spoon position against my back. Her hands moved against my own nightdress and smoothed the satin along and around my nipples and down my sides. As she did this, she murmured in my ear. "Hush, little girl. Let me feel your breasts. Let me pleasure you." I was putty in her hands. I couldn't keep up the effort to be her husband when she was so sweetly reminding me of the pleasure of the evening. My body subsided and I relaxed as much as I could. Anne continued with these subtle physical and mental caresses until I slept. As I finally tumbled into the pillow I felt her kiss my lips and felt an electric tingle as our lipsticks melted together. "Goodnight, sweet sister."

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Changes at home.

When I woke in the morning, Anne was already sorting through my wardrobe. "You aren't going to need most of these clothes from now on. I suppose we'll have to keep a few of Geoff's clothes for business and so on. But we can talk about that later. Angie and I had a little chat last night after you had fallen asleep. It is awfully important that we all decide exactly how much of a girl you are going to be. Are you going to be just an occasional sister or are you going to be my sister as often as possible.

I, personally, don't really want you to take the third option and go all the way. I want my girl to keep her giant clitoris or I am not going to get what I want. After a while, we can discuss whether you are going on hormones so that you have a proper pair of breasts - but that's several months away. Unless you have any significant plans of your own."

"No, darling, I don't. I never thought of having tits of my own. I just hated the coarseness and crudity of the male image - and especially the rough and drab clothes I had to wear. When I found a pair of your panties in my drawer, I tried them on, just for fun, and they were so smooth, so slinky, so enticing, I found that I had to try some more of your stuff, so I did. Gradually, I found that I was doing it more and more often until I was sure that you were beginning to suspect. I still don't know what made you realize but I don't really care. I am just so happy that you can see a sister in me.

"Going back to tits - I did once or twice imagine myself with real ones. It didn't feel right with a pair of socks stuffed into the bra. Mind you, it didn't feel right having that new protuberance sticking out - I couldn't see my toes, it was really different - but rather enticing."

"I'll give you enticing, you little tart. You're going to have to be much better behaved from now on. I really will not be pleased if I have the faintest suspicion that you have been a panty-wanker. Your body is at my total disposal, with occasional advice from Angie. That's a really expensive set of fake boobs you now have. I expect you to dress neatly and properly as Jezebel as soon as you get in from work and, for the moment, until you go back to work. If I do decide that you need more control, I will make sure that you wear panties all day and every day."

"Don't worry, darling. If you want me to wear panties all day, I'll do it. In fact, I don't mind if you tell me to do so right away. I think that it might be a bit obvious if you make me wear anything else."

Anne interrupted. "You will wear what I say when I say. If I want you in suspenders and stockings I will do so. If I want you in a bra - I will tell you. If I want you wearing a proper perfume rather than a vulgar macho so-called aftershave - then you will do so. If it gets to a point where I tell you to go to the shops in your lovely high heels, stark naked, well, I might encourage you to do so. Got that?"

Gulp. "Yes".

"Right. Today, you can put on your new blue bra, and the matching suspenders and panties. The blue dress I wore last Friday will probably be suitable if you can squeeze your disgusting fat body into it without damaging the seams. You're going on a diet until you can wear more of my clothes. We can't afford a complete new wardrobe - so you are going to suffer until you can fit into some of my gear. I reckon you'll have to lose about a stone and get at least two inches off your waist."

Gulp. "Yes".

"Fine. I was very confident you would agree. Or rather, that you would consider the alternative and my probable reaction if you were to disagree. Let's get you ready to go out for a proper shopping session."

Soon I was ready. My lips gleamed with my gorgeous new lipstick and Anne had put on a light daytime makeup. I skipped downstairs with the wonderful sensation of my dress sliding on my stockings, my breasts bouncing and my heart singing.

Angie was drinking a coffee. She did not look even as girlish as I did. She wore jeans and a leather jacket. She marched over to me and kissed me brutally hard. I realized that she was (I hoped) pretending to be a lesbian to my femme. My response was immediate - fortunately the tight support held me in. Angie did of course notice my instant flush and the embarrassed wriggle I made.

"Don't move, Girl", she snapped. "Anne and I need to continue your training and this is part of it." Even more than before, I flushed scarlet with a delirious combination of pleasure and embarrassment.

After a minimal breakfast of a glass of grapefruit juice, I was allowed out onto the streets again. We went past the five houses to the end of the road. With half my heart, I did hope that everyone was out, but at the last house, Mrs. Jones was coming out of the door just as we went past. She said hello to both Anne and Angie, then waited for them to complete the introductions. Mrs. Jones was a handsome rather than pretty woman in her late forties. We had had very little to do with her in the few months we had lived in the area, but Angie had been a local all her life. She said, "Sorry, we must rush, we have to take Jez to the shops." I could swear that I saw a flicker in Mrs. Jones's manner when Angie said Jez but as it turned out later this wasn't so.

We pranced off towards the shops - the sun was out and all of us were in a state of excitement. They had a new toy to play with - and their new toy was dazed by their whispered encouragements. "See that dishy dress in the window - don't you wish you had one like that?" "Look at that girl over there - we won't let you look that slovenly ever." "Smell that perfume, Jez, it would make the men just drool for you." "See that visible-pantie-line - you don't get that with decent panties like you have on."

As we paraded down the main street, I was ready to drag them into every dress shop and boutique. I found myself gushing, "oh that's so pretty." "Do you think that would suit me." and similar comments. Every time I said the right thing, I could feel my two guides smile with genuine pleasure.

They didn't let me go into even one shop. All of a sudden, we turned into a alleyway I should have remembered. Oh dear. Yes, we were going back to see Miss Sterling.

As we entered, I heard a faint bell ring. After just a moment, the curtain rustled and SHE entered the room. I was now more aware of the delightful feminine style of what I can only call a boudoir. Everything was pink, pearl or a delicate shade of grey. I saw that everything was designed to encourage girls as lucky as me to realize how very fortunate I was.

Without guessing the risk I was taking, I immediately said, "Good morning, Miss Sterling. It is so kind of you to spare the time to help me." The silence was awful.

Angie hissed, "Shut up. Here, girls don't open their mouths unless asked."

Mrs. Sterling merely glanced at me as if to say 'What, a talking toy'. She turned instead to the A team and began to speak. "I gather that you have clearly decided that our person is to remain uncut and unenhanced." I managed to remain expressionless as I heard and interpreted these significant statements. I certainly wanted to remain uncut, although the idea of having my own breasts was rather delicious.

"Yes," spoke Anne. "For the moment, I think we just need to buy a B-grade gaff, then check a couple of points and then start shopping."

After enduring a fit of pain - the gaff was fitted and I felt even more sure that I was going to do what my guides desired.

We went from shop to shop. I tried on pants and bras in one shop, blouses, skirts and dresses in another, sandals with the prettiest thin straps, high heels (at which I made a horrible exhibition of myself - tottering all over the place as if I had never worn them before - well, I hadn't much) in a third; at the last shop I tried another wig, in blonde, and then finally I was allowed to try on a really divine satin evening dress in pale pink with a purple underlining. I told Anne that it made me feel like a Princess and both she and Angie smiled broadly at my evident delight.

I don't think I could have felt more feminine at that moment. Less than 24 hours before I had been a posturing pretence of a female - now I felt feminine, smelt feminine, saw feminine and, indeed, touched and tasted feminine. If I had any vote in the matter, I wanted to continue like this for ever - so I said so. There was a short pause.

"Look, Jez. I know you couldn't feel much more girly just now - and we are awfully pleased that you are having such fun - but we can't make a decision about our sister Jez quite so quickly. I mean, we may have to wait another 24 hours before we are all certain about our plans. You have to go to work tomorrow. And while we can make sure that you are decently dressed, we will all have to wait and see how easy it all is and whether you feel comfortable as an 'inbetween'.

"Ooh, do you mean you'll let me wear my new panties to work?", I said. I had been wondering if this would be possible and here it was, one of my wishes already coming true.

"That's not going to be a problem, dear. What will be more of a problem is when the people at the office notice that you have a number of more subtle feminine factors to your appearance. You have had your eyebrows plucked, your nails will have a plain polish rather than tart-red as they are now, you will wear perfume and so on. The people at the office are not stupid, but we hope they are not very observant.

I was even less confident now about how my colleagues would deal with my new life-style. I knew that I was eager to blossom as a girl - but unless I was both careful and lucky, I would be at grave risk from exposure, disgust, discrimination and even losing my job.

We strolled across the park to the winebar. As we sat down, Angie ticked me off for not smoothing my skirt as I sat, she ticked me off for not sitting neatly with my legs together, she ticked me off for gulping my coffee. I could do nothing right. After several more criticisms, Anne came to my rescue.

"Come off it, Angie. Jez has been around for less than a day and you expect perfection. She's doing alright. We can spend the rest of the weekend on coaching - so give it a rest."

I looked gratefully at my wife. I could feel a warm glow in my heart at her willingness to help.

Angie said quite severely "I was only trying to help but perhaps there's no need to bully our eager little dish." I seemed to hear an unspoken 'yet' hovering at the end of that sentence.

We relaxed in the warm sunshine. I did make an effort to sit correctly and to match my pose, posture and attitude to the A team. I must have been quite successful because there were no further comments. After a while, Angie pulled out a package and held it out to me.

"Here's a catalogue for you to look at. We want you to tell us exactly what you think would make you into our little girl. It's got the lot. We know you like fondling the goods before you try them on, but this time you'll have to judge what you fancy by the picture alone."

I took the magazine and flamed scarlet as it fell open at a page full of different designs of fake boob. I turned page after page of underwear - bras, corsets, slips, petticoats, suspenders, g-strings, french-knickers, panties, teddies - and some of these were in rubber and plastic too; to my surprise, there was a pair of adult nappies too.

Further on, there was the loveliest nightie in satin with a blue trim - almost like the one I had worn the night before, but mine was prettier I thought. There were surprisingly few pages of dresses, blouses and skirts but I knew that I had seen lots of things to wear in the shops already.

"Come on. Tell us which ones you like. You may not get them but it will give us a much better idea of what things are going to suit both the outside of our Jez as well as fitting your own inside feelings."

I was glad our table was in the corner. It would have been quite embarrassing if other customers had seen exactly what sort of things we were giggling about. Gradually I calmed down, I started looking slowly but with increasing interest at each item. I was not at all keen on some of the stuff. The only word for it was 'tarty'. I wanted to look natural. I wanted to be the best looking girl in a dress that I could. I knew I was still only a man but I really wanted to look as feminine as possible.

Both Anne and Angie were pleased with my selection. It turned out that I only wanted quite ordinary underwear, simple dresses and just one or two pieces of jewellery. They allowed me to buy the cutest set of brooch, necklace and earrings. They weren't expensive - just a simple black and gold bead-knotwork with one single amethyst-colour pendant, paste of course I was told.

I demanded to be allowed to wear this at once, and although I was told they weren't really daytime wear I got away with it. I felt marvellous as we swished from shop to shop. I was getting more and more used to the way the new shoes made me walk, especially the way it made my hips move. My legs and thighs felt amazingly different, the extra height and changed posture caused by the shoes was the major factor, the pull and stretch of the nylon stockings was part of it, and the loose skirt was the final factor - both because the fresh air could blow up it and because the fabric was swirling and swishing against my skin. I mentioned this to Anne and she winked at me.

“And it’s been barely 24 hours since Jez came out to play. And you can attach any meaning you like to ‘barely’ and ‘came out’ if you want!” she giggled.

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By Monday, I was hooked on my new life as Jez. I didn't see it as a hobby, as a pastime or recreation. It was the rest of my life that was the distraction. Going to work was when I felt wrong, when I had to wear harsh, rough man-type clothes. At home, I could be the soft, frilly, pretty plaything of my wife and my best friend.

I did go to work on Monday, of course. But equally obviously, I wore panties instead of pants and I wore stockings as well. It felt strange with the tug of the nylon on my thighs as I sat down. The feel of the stockings in my shoes made my feet feel strange too. I decided I liked it. The feel of suspenders against my hips as I sat down was even more unusual. Again, I decided that I liked it too. I enjoyed the subtle reminders that I was now allowed, if not expected, to be a feminine person when I wished. And, by the way, the choice of the word ‘obviously’ was in the meaning of ‘You didn’t think I would NOT be wearing undies. Although I did enjoy it when Jade, the American girl at the club had called them intimates and delicates.

It was difficult at work. I found that I was looking at the other girls in the office with a new perspective. I had to prevent myself staring at their clothes, at their makeup, at their loveliness. I soon got myself under control though as there was work to be done. I worked so hard that I almost missed lunch. Fiona Goodfellow, who worked on the next desk, came past to remind me. I jumped as she touched my elbow. She smiled down at me and said, did I want her to get me anything or did I need a quick walk with her to the sandwich bar round the corner.

I did need a break and I did need a walk, so I said yes. We strolled to the corner and waited for a break in the traffic. Fiona chatted on about a few things then said, much too casually, "Did I see you and your wife coming out of the club last night ?"

Without thinking I nodded my head. Then I gasped as the question hit home. The Club! Last night! You and your wife! Ooops.

Fiona smiled back at me. "I thought it was you. I knew Anne from before, but I had no idea that you looked so gorgeous. I was only picking up my friend Alex, I don't really go there that often. I'll talk about this later.

[Fiona and Alex have their own story ‘Perfume Works’ coming later - Alys P]



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