Woman Led Wednesday: Chastity Understanding (8/12/26)

 

Surrender Sunday: Will You Be My Wife?

 

Source: Stana

'Will you be my feminized wife?'

(Will 'she' accept? And surrender having the natural role of husband and man?) 

Surrender Sunday: Collared Wedding

 

Source: Four Legged Human 

"Do you take this neutered male as your submissive mate?"

Female Led Relationship Friday

 

Woman Domination Wednesday 11/26/25

 

I will be back in the evening honey.

Have a nice rest, sweety

Submission Saturday (10/18/25)

 

These moments in sissy feminization stories are always moments I enjoy because they "Mark" the turning point for the main male character. Priscilla's Corporate Makeover is an excellent example of it.  

Surrender Sunday: The Feminized Husband Blog

Is it gay to express like this?

On Sundays I usually have an image that exemplifies Surrendering, but instead of an image I thought it best share a recent post that exemplifies surrendering masculinity and embracing femininity from Kirsten G a Female Led Relationship blogger. 

Kirsten writes in a way that makes me jealous for a number of reasons: she writes beautifully and she is living the lifestyle of a feminized male partner to his wife and boyfriend. Recently she wrote a post that addresses the complex and and touchy subject of homosexuality and feminization. I encourage everyone to follow her and share your thoughts on this as I encourage healthy dialogue.

(Written by Kirsten G: The Feminized Husband Blog on June 29, 2025)

Is It Gay to Live as a Feminized Husband? 

We live in a world where labels often serve as both maps and walls. They help us find each other, understand each other, and build communities — but they can also confine us, misrepresent us, and divide us. This is especially true when it comes to gender, sexuality, and relationships — the most intimate and tender domains of our lives.

The question, "Is it gay to live as a feminized husband?" is not just about semantics. It’s about identity. About freedom. About how we understand love, gender roles, and personal authenticity in a culture that is only beginning to expand its definitions of what these things mean.

As someone who lives fully — joyfully, proudly — as a feminized husband to my wife, I feel compelled to speak directly from my experience. Because the answer is simple, and at the same time, deeply complex.

The Feminine Spirit Within the Male Form

Let’s begin with the heart of it: femininity is not the same thing as homosexuality. Femininity is not a sexual orientation. It’s an essence, a mode of being, an inner truth that can reside in anyone — regardless of gender identity or the bodies we were born into.

For me, femininity is not a costume I wear to spice up my relationship, nor a performance for public or private entertainment. It is who I am. Deeply, spiritually, emotionally. My gestures, my voice, my desires, my way of receiving love, my way of giving it — all arise from the feminine spirit that lives at the center of my being.

Living as a feminized husband, then, is not a contradiction. It is a fulfillment. A coming together of my internal truth and my chosen relational role. I am my wife’s husband — devoted, strong in my loyalty, responsible, constant — and I am her feminine partner, her soft mirror, her receptive lover. We are not a contradiction; we are a harmony.

Love and Desire: Fluid, Not Fixed

Many people, when faced with relationships that fall outside heteronormative templates, ask questions like: "Does that make you gay?" "Bisexual?" "Something else?" These questions are not always malicious. Often they are simply attempts to fit new realities into familiar boxes.

But sexuality is not a filing cabinet.

Sexuality, like gender, like love, like spirit, flows. It’s more like water — it finds its path, shaped by the contours of who we are, by the people we meet, and by how we are received.

In our triadic relationship — between me, my wife, and our boyfriend — I do not experience my attraction to him as a "gay" desire. Not because I am in denial, but because I know what I feel and how I feel it. I love him, yes. I desire him, yes. But I love and desire him as a woman loves a man — through the lens of my feminine spirit.

When he touches me, kisses me, makes love to me — I am not a man being loved by another man. I am a woman in spirit, being adored by her man. The electricity between us is not homoerotic. It is heterofeminine, if such a term could exist. It is gendered not by the bodies we inhabit, but by the energies we carry and the ways we connect.

That is why, in this love, I feel very straight. It’s not a contradiction — it is a testimony to the inadequacy of labels.

On Being a Feminized Husband

To some, the term "feminized husband" may sound like a novelty, a kink, or a submission fantasy. And while there are certainly spaces where femininity in men is sexualized or fetishized, that is not what I live.

For me, being a feminized husband is not a submissive role. It is a sacred, elevated one.

It is an expression of partnership, not power imbalance. My wife does not dominate me — she honors me. She honors the fullness of who I am, including the parts of me that many men are taught to hide: softness, emotionality, intuition, receptivity. And I honor her equally — not as a master, but as a queen. As the strong, masculine force in our union. She is my protector, and I am her sanctuary.

When she touches me, penetrates me, holds me in her strength, I do not feel humiliated or emasculated. I feel seen. I feel honored. I feel loved as a husband should be loved — deeply, intimately, and in a way that aligns with his truest self.

When the Spirit Leads, Gender Follows

So often, society tells us that our bodies dictate who we are and who we may love. If you are born male, you must be masculine. If you are masculine, you must desire femininity. If you deviate from this order, you are transgressive, queer, gay.

But I believe something different. I believe that spirit comes first.

The body is a container — a beautiful, mysterious one — but it is the spirit that gives the body its meaning.

My spirit is feminine. It always has been. As a child, before I understood gender roles or sexual politics, I moved through the world with a softness, an openness, a relational depth that felt more aligned with traditional femininity than masculinity.

But I was never confused. I was never "in the wrong body." I was simply born with a body that did not always match my internal currents. And rather than reject it, I chose to integrate. To allow my feminine spirit to flow through my male form, as a husband, a lover, a partner, and a beloved.

Beyond Labels: Living Truthfully

So, is it gay to live as a feminized husband? Only if you define "gay" in the narrowest, most body-based terms.

If you define gayness as a man being sexually or romantically attracted to another man, and you see both of those men as fixedly masculine — then perhaps. But that is not my experience.

In my reality, my love for our boyfriend is filtered through the lens of my womanly heart. I do not desire him from a masculine position, but from a feminine one. And my love for my wife is equally powerful — I relate to her as her husband, not in spite of my femininity, but because of it.

To me, this is not confusion. This is clarity.

Clarity that love does not conform to binaries. Clarity that desire is not dictated by gender performance. Clarity that the soul knows what it wants, and it will find a way to express itself, even when the world lacks the vocabulary to understand it.

The Courage to Be Whole

Living as a feminized husband requires courage. It means walking through a world that may misunderstand you, mock you, or attempt to redefine you. It means answering questions that others may never have to consider.

But it also means living truthfully. Boldly. Beautifully.

It means letting go of roles that never fit, and embracing a selfhood that feels aligned and whole. It means building relationships not on default expectations, but on authentic connection. It means honoring both your masculinity and your femininity — however they manifest — without shame or apology.

And perhaps most importantly, it means creating a life of your own design. A life where your wife sees and loves you for who you are, not who society says you must be. A life where your love for a man does not negate your straightness, because you love him not as a man, but as his woman. A life where your femininity is not weakness, but power.

Conclusion: Reclaiming Our Truths

So again, we ask: "Is it gay to live as a feminized husband?"

And the answer is: maybe, maybe not. But does it matter?

What matters is how you feel when you are touched, held, kissed. What matters is the truth in your body, the song in your spirit. What matters is the love you give and receive, and the courage you carry as you live that love fully, unapologetically, and joyfully.

We are not here to fit into definitions. We are here to define ourselves. To embody love in the forms it takes for us. To honor the deep truth that our lives are our own, and our identities are more than anyone else’s categories can contain.

Being a feminized husband is not a contradiction. It is a calling. It is not a deviation from masculinity — it is an expansion of what masculinity can hold. It is not a detour from straightness — it is a new, honest form of it.

I am not gay. I am not confused. I am whole.

I am a feminized husband. And this is my truth.

The Feminized Husband Blog

New story from Kylie Gable now up! "Newlyweds"

The latest image is the cover Kylie Gable's Feminization Folio 21, its a collection of some of her more recent stories: The T&A in TA, Sissification of Brenda and The Newlyweds. In the foreground is the husband of Newlyweds bound and gagged in panties after being madeover by his wife and friends. In the middle is the teaching assistant from the TA story and in the background is Brenda from her sissy maid story witnessing the feminization of the other males with the ladies in the background enjoying the entertainment. It was done in photoshop as you can tell I was a bit rusty, but still had a blast doing it. I'm thinking of putting all the Kylie Folio images in the classic cover section of the blog.  

Speaking of which....we have a treat for you! The Newlyweds from Kylie Gable and Victoria Vaughn is now up on the blog. Kylie was so kind to gift us this lovely sexy story of hers to the blog. Thank you Kylie!

It was recently featured in Kylie Gable's  Feminization Folio 21. A story about newlywed husband Justin being feminized by his wife and her friends one evening. What sets this short story apart is that it is written like a ceremonial spiritual transition for a modern suburban male husband to a emasculated docile almost neutered (not literally of course) submissive role for all to witness as a trophy achievement of the ladies effort! Written by the gifted hand of the lovely Kylie Gable and Victoria Vaughn.

 Sample: 

 "Let's make you pretty now," I declared with a touch of mischief in my voice. Sarah handed me a dress, the fabric soft and delicate, a stark contrast to the restraints holding Justin. We maneuvered the garment over his head, guiding his bound arms through the sleeves. The hem fell into place, skimming his thighs with an almost teasing caress. Annie and Christine giggled as they adjusted the fit, tucking and smoothing until the dress hugged his form just right.

"Your transformation isn't complete without the perfect manicure," Sarah chimed in, brandishing a bottle of pink nail polish with a flourish. I grasped his hand, uncurling his fingers from their tense position. Carefully, I painted each nail, the brush strokes sure and even. The color was playful, a bubblegum shade that popped against his pale skin. Christine held up a hand mirror, angling it so Justin could catch glimpses of his painted nails.

"See? You can be beautiful too," I teased, blowing on the wet polish to speed the drying. The act itself was nurturing, yet laden with condescension. We were dressing him not for his pleasure, but for ours—a doll to be decorated and displayed.

"Almost done," I murmured, anticipation building within me. This was more than a game; it was a declaration, a new chapter in our relationship where I would lead, and he would follow. And as I looked down at Justin, dressed in femininity and bound by promise and metal, I knew we had crossed a threshold from which there was no return.

The soft bristles of the makeup brush danced across Justin's cheekbones, the contouring powder sculpting his face into a softer, more feminine visage. His eyes, though clouded with a mix of fear and resignation, couldn't look away from the meticulous transformation being made by my steady hand. I dipped the tip into a pot of shimmering eyeshadow, a hue that would make his blue eyes stand out, even if they were to be seen only by us.

"Keep still," I instructed gently, yet with an underlying firmness that reminded him of his place in this moment. My friends watched on, their presence an unspoken force that kept him anchored in his submissive role. Sarah chuckled softly as she handed me a slender tube of mascara, her eyes glinting with the same sense of control that pulsed through me.

"Flutter for me," I said as I approached Justin’s lashes with the wand, and he complied, the effect both bizarre and beautiful as his lashes thickened and darkened under the cosmetic. Christine passed me a lip pencil next, and with deliberate precision, I traced the outline of his muzzled mouth, shaping it into a pout before filling it in with a bright, arresting shade of red lipstick. The color mocked the silence behind the gag, a bold statement against the softness we forced upon his features.

"Perfect," Annie breathed out, her voice a melody of satisfaction. They each took turns admiring their handiwork, their laughs and nods casting a glow of approval over our makeshift salon. Their dominance, my dominance—it was woven into every stroke of the brush, every swipe of color. We had reshaped not just his appearance but the dynamic between us, etching it into the layers of foundation and blush.

Link: 

The Newlyweds

 

Short Story: Tulip's Friend Experiences The Walk of Shame

Tulip Fancy

Tulip feels sorry for Peter as he does his walk of shame.... she tries to console him      

        Struggling to keep up with my wife in my heels as she held my hand walking across the car park to the club house. She continued to stress the importance of me being a friend to Peter. She went over again what we had talked about before. We parted as she went into the changing rooms and handed me our present for Peter. I went up into the stands to sit with the others. Mary was there and complimented me on my hair and dress. I felt over dressed as usual. I was back in curls at my wife's insistence and the sides were held back by barrettes that matched my dress and put my earrings on display. She never seemed satisfied unless I was spending at least an hour or two a day on my hair. 

        Sitting in the stands with the prettily wrapped present sitting beside my handbag I wondered how I was going to start this conversation with Peter. I was hoping that he wouldn't be here today. But I knew he was. I had seen Angela pull up and Peter getting his trays of cookies out of the car. When his half time duties were done, he came up and sat beside me. I knew It was still difficult for him to speak after having his vocal cords tightened. The sound that came out of his mouth when he spoke was a high-pitched squeaky voice that would never allow him to be taken seriously as a man again. He said with a look of panic and distress on his face that he met Ron last night.

        He and Angela had dinner with him. Angela was insisting that he spend Friday nights with him from now on. I knew what was happening and felt sorry for him. Angela was determined to have him what she called "bitched" and had found an older fella called Ron to do it. It didn't feel right but I had been given my instructions and could not go against my wife. Embarrassing as it was, I took his hands in mine and reassured him that it will be fine. I then had to recount to this man on the edge of a breakdown how I had helped a friend. I didn't want to break confidences by naming Derek but talked up the experience and told him this had resulted in my first "Girlgasm." 

        I said I knew he wouldn't be able to do the same thing yet because of his resent throat surgery but Ron by all accounts is an experienced guy and will take his pleasure in other ways. That is when I handed over our gift. He undid the ribbon and looked in the box. There were some condoms. A little tube of lube, a small penis shaped applicator and some Tampons. I had also included a friendship bracelet with my name on it. I explained to him about the condoms. I had been practicing with my wife for a few weeks now and could do it easily now even with long nails. He tried to tell me that he had no sexual attraction to men and that he loved Angela and wanted her to allow his penis to go rock hard as it used to. He wanted her to find pleasure in him making love to her with his stiff penis. And maybe one day become a father. I could tell that his words were sincere but said in his new voice and with a rose chiffon scarf tied in a bow under his chin I had to tell him I didn't think Angela see him like that. So, I tried a different tack. I asked him if he still had that thing locked on his penis and was discharging at night. He said, he was and getting punished for it which wasn't fair as he couldn't help it. I told him that I hadn't discharged in the night since my wife started using her girlmaker on me. I said, Ron could do the same for you. It was a very uncomfortable conversation for two men to have.  I'm not sure my reassurance's helped. He still looked very pale when we parted but he still kissed me on the check as he always does lately.  

        The following week Ron and Peter drove into the car park in Ron's big four-wheel drive. Angela met them as they got out of the car. Peter looked a little disheveled and had egg and tomato catchup on his top and looked very pale.

Ron met Angela and they shook hands and laughed as they exchanged pleasantries. Ron looked at Peter and pointed to his cheek. Peter got on his tippy toes and kissed it. Ron slapped him on the bottom and told him to get his cookies out the back of the car. Peter did as he was told and Ron drove off saying he would see him same time next week. I could not help but feel sorry for Peter. He looked like he had just come off a gay parade float. He was wearing little white shorts. I am sure I could see a string hanging down the back of one leg. He had glitter on his cheeks and was wearing mascara, a lot of it. His neck and throat were red with love bits. His walk was obviously affected by his encounter with Ron and Angela seemed to have no sympathy and was even overjoyed to show him off to team mates and friends. 

      When everyone's attention turned to the game, I managed to get a cool sponge and cooled his neck. I cleaned off most of the mascara and glitter and put concealer on his neck. I could tell he was shaken by the experience. I asked him how it went and he just said Ron was an animal and began to weep. I could only wrap him in my arms and hold him.

     He was made to sit on Rons lap all evening while he had his neck mauled and his nipples bruised. He said Ron refused to use the condoms and had used him twice during the night. The first time was excruciating and he just wanted it over. The second time only slightly better.  He had to make him breakfast in the morning. Before Ron pushed him over the breakfast table and used him again with no lube. He had to use the Tampon to stop it all leaking through his shorts. I wasn't surprised that Ron refused to use the condoms. My wife said that is what men are like sometimes. 

________________________________________________

*Message from Annabelle B: I will be moving Tulip's work to her own page soon, this will be the last story of her's to be featured as post. This will help to better find and archive Tulip's lovely work. 

(Short Story)Tuesday Tulip: Yellow Tulip

Tulip Fancy

Tulip looks great in yellow.......

   I knew it was a mistake mentioning to Kelly that I liked the colour yellow as now it had become the theme of my summer wardrobe. It was nice though to get out of my black and whites after work and into something a bit more colourful and my wife definitely approves and shows it in her affection towards me. 

   Sunday is normally a day of rest for us after a week of work and chores. Salon, Gym, sport and socialising on Saturday. We just sit around at home or go for a drive to a country pub for lunch. Today we stayed home and I was preparing a light lunch to eat in the garden. My wife said to make enough for three as Angela may drop in as Peter was in the hospital and Angela can't cook. 

   Angela came and I served them in the garden. She had come straight from the hospital. Peter was fine but was staying an extra night. They had gone private so they don't rush you out the door. They started talking business so I went in and ironed our blouses for the following week. 

  Later on, I was sitting at my vanity brushing my hair. And yes, in a yellow nightie and a sleeping corset. I was surprised how comfy the sleeping corsets were compared to my day ones. They were restricting without being too stiff. 

   I asked what was wrong with Peter. My wife said that Angela was helping him be the person she wanted him to be. Angela preferred Peter to dress and act as effeminately as possible but behind closed doors he has become very argumentative and defiant. He was finding the shame of being a pansy out in public hard to deal with. She was refusing to let him hide it saying Nancy boys secretly crave attention and being mocked was what a fairy like him should expect and except. It had come to a head when he was sent to the barbers for a trim and blow dry. There was a queue of men smoking. All listening to the races while replays of old boxing matches played on the silent tv screens. They were all waiting for their five-minute trims and Peter had to ask if it was possible to have a lilac tint put through his hair as well. Apparently, he looked quite ill when he came home without the lilac tint. My wife said that Angela had been quite firm in reminding him that there was nothing wrong with a pansy looking like a pansy in this day and age. She told him the next time they were in the supermarket he could pick up a home tint kit and do it himself at home. She was hoping he would have attracted the attention of a young swain by now. Been swept off his feet and experienced real passion. But with his growing reluctance she was having to use higher and higher levels of correction to get him to understand what she thought was his true nature. She was adornment that the only persons judgement he had to worry about was hers. Out of desperation and for his sake she consulted a specialist who advised the need for a small procedure to make it impossible for him to pretend to be manly and so take the pressure off him. I knew he always wore unusual clothes. Velvett suits, frilly shirts and neck scarves. I thought it was just his style. He rarely spoke and was not allowed to work outside the home except for two hours a week in a charity shop.

 I had been getting recipes from him for a while and hadn't realized he was unhappy. I would never dare to say it but wondered if perhaps Peter wasn't really a pansy.

  She laughingly told me that he was jealous of me as people either turned to admire me or not think anything odd about me. Whereas when they turned to look at him it was to point and laugh. I had moved into bed beside her by now and was snuggled in her arms. She said I had nothing to worry about as my delusions of manliness were gone forever. Replaced by a more appropriate feminine disposition. I was embarrassed to be reminded of how far I had come. I wasn't sure if that was a compliment or a statement of how much my life had changed since we met and what I had let happen to me. As if to prove her point she held my matching yellow hair ribbon as she pushed my head down under the covers and down her body....

Female Domination Friday: FLR Rules of Carol No

Female-led relationships (FLRs) are often shrouded in mystery, seen through the lens of fantasy or misunderstood stereotypes. Yet, those who practice this dynamic know it’s not just about power—it’s about connection, trust, and creating a fulfilling partnership that works for both individuals.

In this post, we uncover 10 surprising rules that set thriving FLRs apart. These aren’t your typical tips—they’re insights that challenge conventional thinking, revealing how FLRs thrive not through dominance alone, but through balance, mutual growth, and respect. Whether you’re new to the lifestyle or looking to deepen your dynamic, these revelations will inspire and empower your journey.

Let’s dive into the rules that make FLRs not just work—but flourish.

The Submissive Has Power Too

Despite appearances, the submissive retains significant power by choosing to yield control and continually reaffirming their trust in the dominant partner.

Rules Are Built Around the Dominant’s Lifestyle, Not the Submissive’s

The dominant’s needs and preferences take precedence, with routines and protocols crafted to simplify and enhance their life.

Femininity as Authority

Female dominance thrives not by emulating traditional male authority but by embracing and leveraging feminine strength and intuition.

Submissive Rituals Are Grounding

Simple acts like greeting the dominant properly or serving coffee become meaningful rituals that reinforce roles and deepen the dynamic.

Punishment Is Rarely Necessary

Many FLRs focus on positive reinforcement rather than punishment, motivating through praise, affection, and acknowledgment.

The Dynamic Can Be Invisible to Outsiders

A thriving FLR doesn’t require public displays. Some of the most powerful dynamics exist privately, unnoticed by the outside world.

Daily Acts of Service Create Intimacy

Consistent, practical acts like preparing meals, handling chores, or offering massages serve to build intimacy and respect.

The Dominant’s Growth is Central

The submissive’s role often includes encouraging the dominant’s personal and professional growth, creating a dynamic of mutual empowerment.

Fantasy Isn’t Always Reality

While fantasies may fuel the initial spark, successful FLRs are built on realistic expectations and sustainable practices.

It’s About More Than the Bedroom

Thriving FLRs focus on the whole relationship, with submission extending into emotional, practical, and lifestyle support.

Source: Caroline No 

About:

I am your Goddess Caroline, a radiant, long-haired redhead, and the Head Mistress of the Gynarchic Academy. My role is to guide submissives in the understanding and mastery of Female-Led Relationships (FLR), matriarchy, and the practice of loving submission. My domain encompasses teaching the essential skills for submissive service, developing social and communication abilities, and imparting pleasure techniques within FLR dynamics.

I demand absolute respect and obedience, and in my presence, you will always address me as Goddess. My goal is to elevate you through obedience, discipline, and service, transforming your desires into meaningful actions that strengthen your devotion. You can also explore your submission by enrolling in courses at the Gynarchic Academy, seeking personal coaching through my platform on LoyalFans, or connecting with others in FLR on Slave-Selection.

I expect you to embrace your role, serve with reverence, and always submit with grace.

Tuesday Tulips: The Start of Tulips BBQ Experience

Tulips Fancy

Our heroine serves at the BBQ like a good emasculated submissive male-wife..... Tulips gets some help though...

    Sitting in the kitchen as the BBQ wound down I had very mixed feelings about the day. I feared that some memory's would stay with me for a while. Most of the dishes were done. Peter finished drying and I put the last plates away. As he was hanging up the tea towel, I noticed the two colourful beaded bracelets he was wearing as his lace cuffs fell down. They had female names spelt out in the beads. I asked him who they were. He said they were friendship bracelets from the ladies at the shop. He looked very embarrassed so I didn't press him on them. 

    The day started well enough. One final look in the mirror and I went down to the Kitchen. My wife was just finishing making a bowl of fruit punch. I wrapped a kitchen apron around my waist and checked the salads in the fridge. Thats when I realised, I would have to refix my hat every time I changed into my full hostess apron as it went over my head. I would only be wearing it to serve food and drinks then my wife and Kelly were keen for me to show off my pretty dress and figure. She came up behind me and ducked down to get under the brim of my hat and kissed the back of my neck while wrapping one arm around my waist and the other pawing at my breast. She pulled me back into her and told me I looked perfect. I could feel my breath quicken and my knees go week. She supported my weight for a moment until I regained my composure.  Then let me go and went to answer the door.  

       Peter followed her back in. He was wearing a pink suit like a footman in a Disney princess carton might wear. I thought for a moment that we were having a costume party but I knew we weren't. I was surprised when instead of shacking hands he kissed me on the check. My eyes were somehow drawn to the prominent bulge in the front of his tights. I did not know until a few weeks later that he wore a device covered by a pad to smooth out his tights. We bought his pasta salads in and transferred them into serving dishes for the buffet table we were going to set up. People were starting to arrive so I took my hat off and put my hostess apron on and refixed my hat in the mirror and started carrying trays of drinks out to the guests. I offered Peter one of my plainer aprons but he had bought his own which turned out to be more elaborate than mine. I think he was glad to cover his tights despite the femininity on his hostess apron. I could tell he was embarrassed but put it on and helped me with the serving. 

        Angela, Peters wife and some of the hockey girls had arrived and were hanging around the BBQ drinking beers from the ice bin that had been set up earlier. Monsieur Rabanna and his husband arrived and mixed in with Derick and Doreen while my friend Mary from the salon was a good addition to the group. Mary's husband would be coming after he finished his round of golf. The other people were my wife's work colleagues, partners, associates and customers that I did not know. And there would be more people coming later. As the afternoon wore on the buffet table was set up and running and I was able to take my apron off and have half a glass of punch while chatting with Mary. I was flattered by her praise of my hat and dress. Most people were in casual shirts and shorts. Some of the woman had made more of an effort. Being dressier than most I was both flattered and embarrassed by the attention I received but felt oddly proud. That feeling didn't last as the guests consumed more alcohol and started loosening up. Some peoples uglier side surfaced. Particularly when the golfers arrived....

(Short Story)Tuesday Tulips: Tulip Gets Ready for the BBQ

Tulip Fancy

Our "girl" Tulip gets ready for a neighborhood BBQ

It had been a few weeks in the making but the day of our BBQ had arrived. My wife was up early and got the lawns mowed and the back yard cleaned up with the help of Derick from next door. They put up a temporary shelter and a wind brake around the BBQ. I tried to help with the fold up tables but they were too heavy and my wife shooed me away. Doreen suggested I help her with the centre pieces. I liked that and found that I could use skills I'd learned while hat making at work and I was less likely to break a nail. 

         Kelly and I had been debating for a couple of weeks whether or not I should go bear legged or not. She eventually decided that I should but would need a little temporary colour on them. So, the night before she came round and sprayed my lower legs and feet with a bit of spray tan. She said it would wash off in a couple of days. She was adamant that I maintain my waist training and had just added a sleeping corset so as not to lose the gains I had made during the day. The sun dress I would be wearing was cut to fit my restricted waist so there was no getting out of it. I had my new sandals to wear. They were gold with thin straps and had a block heel so I could walk on the grass. I had embarrassingly asked for a higher heel in the shop much to Kelly's amusement. It had taken me so long to get used to higher heels I thought if I went down again, I would have to go through it all again. I had bought the necklace and bracelet that matched the earrings I bought from the stall near the shop and Kelly bought my dress to match the colours. 

      My wife told me to invite Monsieur Rabanna and his husband. He said he would love to but would check with his husband. He asked what I was wearing. When I told him about my sundress, he suggested a wide brim hat to keep the sun off my neck and shoulders. As I would be in heels I would be wearing my hair up. I bought the dress in and we dressed a white wide brim blank to match the colours of the dress when things were quiet. He gave me two of his cheaper hat pins as a gift which I thought was really nice until it struck me with a little stab of shame. How many men own their own hat pins?

    I had all the salads made, my wife had half a butcher shop marinating in the fridge and Peter was bringing three of his Pasta salads. My wife reminded me to make sure I had a clean apron for him as he would be coming early and helping me. Peters' wife is my wife's best friend. She is a very large lady who works in the same industry as my wife and plays in goal for the hockey team. They were the witnesses at our marriage.

     With everything ready it was time to get dressed and wait for the guests to arrive....

Surrender Sunday (FLR Public Announcement)

 

Short Story: Tulips New Suit

Tulips Fancy

 Tulip looks back in time at one of her first jobs....

    Space was getting tight in my closet. The expansion of my wardrobe was constant due to the changing shape of my body and Kelly's insistence that I keep up with fashion. I put everything that no longer fitted in a pile for Goodwill. Then I noticed the hanging bag at the end of the rail. I took it down and opened it up. It was the suit. I took it out and held it in front of me as I looked in the mirror. It was obvious how much weight I had lost since I last wore it. I think the shoulders would come halfway down my arms now. It bought back bitter sweet memories.

  I had started to enjoy this new job at the real estate agency. It had been a rocky start when they found out I couldn't drive and show houses. But there was plenty of work to do in the office. My girlfriend was so pleased when I told her how well I was doing. I think she thought I would never be able to keep a job. Thats why it was such a shock when I was called into the owner's office and told I was being let go. It seems I had mixed up two different sets of title deeds and caused a mortgage to be rejected. I'm sure it was a mistake anyone could make. But he didn't see it that way.

      It was a long afternoon waiting for my girlfriend to come home from work and she was later than normal. When she did arrive, she was carrying the hanger bag and a couple of smaller bags. I greeted her with a cup of tea and took her shopping. Before I could tell her about the injustice that had been done to me, she started opening her shopping. She had been out with her niece and saw this suit that would be prefect for my job. 

     I was dumb struck. She pulled out this obviously ladies' powder blue pant suit and two white blouses. One with quit a plane collar she said I could wear with the neckerchief they had got me in the real estate agency's colours. The other had a floppy bow at the collar. I didn't know what to say.

    Thank goodness I had lost the job. These were clearly lady's clothes. Thats when I tearfully told her I had lost the job. I'm not sure if she was more disappointed in me for losing the job or that I wouldn't be wearing my suit to the office. Her rage was frightening to me and trying on the clothes did little to change her mood. She later apologized for giving me correction while angry saying it had taken her by surprise. She went into the kitchen and opened a bottle of red wine and poured herself a glass. This was another sign of her disappointment as she never drinks during the week. She decided to order takeaway and we sat on the sofa and watched a movie. I curled up with my head in her lap trying to keep my smarting bottom off the couch as she played with my hair. About halfway through the movie, she muted it and out of the blue asked me to marry her!

    That Saturday we were married at the registry office. Angela and Peter were our witnesses and my wife's older sister and niece were there. I didn't know at the time but my name had also been changed. I wore my new suit with the bowed blouse. I felt very self-conscious but could not deny her. Her niece did some things to my hair but I drew the line when she pulled out a lipstick. Silly when I think about it now.

    I put the suit back in the hanging bag and hung it back up in my closet. I couldn't send it to Goodwill.

Short Story: Tulip Feels Better on the Bus to Work

Tulip Fancy

After an significant night, our girl Tulip has accepted being the lady in the marriage, she has a new outlook on life.

    After last night's event, I woke up with a new sense of peace. I swung my legs out of bed and immediately felt the after effects of last night's congress. But somehow, I was grateful of my place in life. Despite the initial humiliation I had felt at the time, I understood it was for my own good as the lady in the marriage. Being the submissive one and receiving my wife's love came with the natural discharge leaving me relaxed and anxiety free.  

    I got past my discomfort and went to get a load of washing on. It's so much easier if I can get it on the line before my laces are tightened. I set the breakfast things out and went back up to do my hair and makeup. My wife was just coming out of the shower when she gave my butt a firm SMACK! I yelped, she knew I was still sore and feeling very open from last night. 

"I love how you walk the morning after," she smiled knowing how it takes a while for the soreness to subside from being ravished last night. With that,  I could not resist putting my arms around her neck and offer her my lips. She wrapped me in her arms and invaded my mouth with her probing tongue. When we broke off, she asked what was that for. I just said, "thank you for loving me."

    Getting dressed for work has become second nature. mixing and matching my black and white skirts and tops, selecting my underwear and coordinating my nail polish, lipstick, makeup and hair accessories. I am now able to hook on my stays in front, crossing my arms at the front grabbing hold of the laces and tightening them as best I can. I tie them off and continue dressing in the rest of my underwear. Normally before sitting down and doing my make-up and hair my wife will check my stays and quite often retighten them calling me a weak sally for not pulling hard enough. Today she encircled my waist with her hands and ran them up my torso. Saying how happy she was that the flesh was being pushed up to improve my bust. 

    Four years ago, I thought I had a chest. Now it is only ever referred to as my bust. Monsieur Rabanna's preference is that I wear my hair up. He thinks it is classier and more professional. sitting down at my vanity I was reminded again of my wife's passion. While doing my hair and make-up I decided that as I had chosen to wear my Valentine's Day stockings, I would wear the jacket that went with my skirt and a less fancy blouse to seem more business-like. I was conscious of Monsieur Rabanne's guidance to not up stage the customers. 

      We left the house about the same time. She drove off and I walked to the bus stop. I could hear the click of my black courts on the pavement. There were the normal people at the bus stop and another guy I didn't recognize. I instinctively knew he had noticed my stockings as I turned to face the road and it made me wonder if I had done the right thing by wearing them. The bus came and we all got on and sat where we could. I opened my handbag and makeup purse for my compact and immediately noticed the two condoms there. I checked my face and closed everything up. I settled back and daydreamed out the window. All my worries of the last week or two had melted way. 

    Every bump in the road reminded me that my wonderful wife had just been worried about my safety. I doubt there are many husbands that could count on such support. She has said, 'we will keep practicing until I can handle any situation or demand and come out of it without injury or disease.' 

    I had never realized, I was under such threat. As I looked out the window at the men in the street I wandered if any of them were dangerous. If so, how do you tell? Would I be able to handle them now? I doubted it but with my wife's help maybe soon. 

    None of these thoughts could break the good mood I was in. There were two ladies coming in today that I quite liked. Both were very classy but nice and not demeaning in anyway. One was coming in for the second fitting for a hat she would be wearing to a race meeting in a couple of months and the other had changed her mind about the dress she would be wearing to a garden party at the palace. This meant a new hat would be needed. I knew how both these ladies took their tea and looked forward to serving them. There is just something about ladies of that class. In the shop I had plenty to keep me busy. It was going to be a good day. I felt loved and useful.

Photo Caption: Surrender Saturday

 

Tuesday Tuilp: Tulip learns to protect himself.

Tulip Fancy

Its the moment of truth for Tulip time (From the POV of Tulip's Wife)

It was something I'd been thinking about for a while. Having Tulip on his knees in front of me fitting a condom to my strap-on. I thought it was a gap in his feminine education that needed to be "plugged."

 Seeing him down there with his manicured nailed fingers sliding it down the shaft would be such a turn on. I had noticed a few weeks back that when entering him there wasn't the same level of resistance from his sphincter and I was not getting the same sharp intake of breath and muffled squeal I had when I first claimed him. I thought I could either get a bigger strap on which would keep happening, or give him a rest and let him tighten up again. I did know it was important to me that he felt stretched and couldn't help but vocalize it when I drove into him. I wanted him to feel helpless on the end of my shaft. It made me feel powerful and turbo charged my own orgasm. 

      Something I was very proud of was feeling him back into me and wiggle his little tush when we were spooning at night. I'm not sure if he knew he was doing it but it was definitely an invitation in my mind and a sign he expected me to invade his body and was looking forward to it. That and extinguishing his erection instinct are my biggest accomplishments with him. Kelly's work with his style and appearance have really turned him into a little doll. When I look at him sometimes and he unconsciously does something against all masculine instincts and I think back to what I started with I can't help but feel proud and not a little moisture in my pants.

  After cleaning up the kitchen and hanging up his pinny,  he came into the lounge room and ask me to unbutton the back of his blouse and loosen his stays. He returned from upstairs with his little caddie of nail care paraphernalia, in a nighty and robe. I knew they had bought him some strappy sandals for Sunday's BBQ. Watching him sitting on the floor concentrating on painting his toe nails like it was the most natural thing in the world was turning me on more and more. Before he could start the other foot, I said to come and sit with me for a while.

 He knew it was something serious by the tone of my voice. I said I wanted to talk about his safety. He was aware of the effect he has on men which causes him a great deal of embarrassment when I point it out. I said that now he was traveling and shopping alone that I wanted him to carry protection. Not all men are gentlemen as he knows. He might find himself alone with one of these men in a situation where he can't call for help or fight back. In that case the best option is to beg them to allow you to fit them with a condom to save you from an STD. All colour had now drained from his face and I thought he was going to be ill. I had hold of both of his hands and reassured him that we would practice so he would be ready if need be. I told him to go and get my Girl Maker and the condoms from the bathroom.  

    I was pleased the rest I had given him over the last two or three weeks, really did the trick. I could feel the resistance on the way in and he was in top voice until he came like a girl. The ribbing on the condom could have helped as well. I guided him through putting it on. The smell of his processed hair gently rising to my nostrils as he knelt in front of me was nearly enough to set me off. I cautioned against damaging the condom with his nails or worst still scratching a protentional violent man. I really enjoyed it and he bought into the whole story. I said we would practice every couple of weeks and he would have to work on his begging. He agreed that he should keep a couple of condoms in his makeup purse from now on. He would see them every time he pulled out his compact and know he was safer. 

He never did get to repaint his other foot's toe nails that night....

Tuesday Tulip: Tulip has things on his mind (Short Story)

Tulip Fancy

Tulip's gets her hair done, while having some "Girl-Talk" she gets some information to reflect on concerning what happens behind the bedroom door. 

Sitting in the stands on Saturday afternoon, the wind was blowing and making the back of my scarf flap. It's frustrating trying to protect the doo I had just spent more than a couple of hours having done. Mary was sitting next to me, a girlfriend of one of the players. She looked at me with sympathy in her skinny jeans and sweater as, I tried to keep my scarf and skirts under control. 

Next to her was Marty, the husband of one of the players. He is very loud and waves his arms around a lot. Peter came by with a tray of energy cookies he had baked that the players didn't get through at half time. I took one to be polite. Only eating half. I'm very conscious of what I'm eating since changing my foundation garments. 

  I wasn't sure what to make of the gossip in the hair dressers this morning. The consensus seemed to be that men were creatures of habit. If there was a deviation from those habits, there was room for suspicion. Mary, this is a different Mary. I have a few Mary's in my life at the moment. She always sits at the sink next to me and was saying that the regularity of their lovemaking had changed. Well, she didn't say lovemaking she used another word! I still can't believe women talk like this in front of me. One woman suggested changing her perfume. Another wondered if there was a health problem. Karen asked if he was staying out or his comings and goings had changed. All agreed that there was something going on.

After my wife picked me up and we were driving to the hockey game and it suddenly dawned to me that my wife hadn't been paying me the attention she usually did!

It had been three weeks since Valentine's Day when I received a frenzy of attention. While Friday nights I do my husbandly duty, on the weekend or during the week she normally takes the opportunity to use what she has taken to calling her Girl-Maker on me. Now I'd never thought of my wife as a man, but I wondered if there might be some parallels with Mary's husband. Are women creatures of habit as well? 

While I found it extremely humiliating and a little painful to start with, I had come to realize that this is how she shows her love for me...  yet I wonder....has she stopped loving me? And what was the packet of condoms for she had me buy a couple of weeks ago? Did she want me to stop wearing my pipe ribbons? It has been well over two years since I have been stiff. Should I wear my Valentine's day stockings? She said the back seams and reinforce heels gave her a real turn on when she first saw me in them. I have thought that they would go well with my work black and whites but I don't want to attract to much attention on the bus.  

        As these things played round and around in my head. I was still struggling with the wind. I had what Kelly calls my vanity reflex nagging at me to get my compact out to check my face but with both my hands kept full keeping my skirts under control and my scarf on I had no idea if my makeup was surviving the afternoon. The game was heading for a draw and I couldn't wait to get home. The game finished and a couple of the other husbands lifted the baskets of dirty jumpers into the back of our car for me. My wife opened the car door for me and as we headed home to get ready for the evening social.... I wondered again if I should wear my Valentine stockings?

Before the Costume Party (Photo Caption)

source: www.deviantart.com/miky2780