Tuesday Tulips Short Story: A Model Tulip

Tulip Fancy

Sweet feminized Tulip is appreciated in a modeling photo shoot.

Sitting on the bus I wasn't sure about how I felt with the day ahead of me. Monsieur Rabanna had a long chat with my wife at the BBQ. She said he was very pleased with me and wanted to increase my hours. He was having trouble finding girls to play the role he wanted in the shop. Some found it demeaning to act in the old-fashioned way he wanted to make his customers feel special and others just did not have the manners or know how to carry themselves in a subservient way around the client's. He said I was a natural and really wanted me to do some evenings and Saturdays. I liked working in the shop. It was the only job I had done were I felt really on top of things. I didn't like the idea of traveling home in the evenings on my own so I was glad when she refused his request. She said Saturday mornings were my me time. I could go to the salon have my hair done my face and body pampered and chat with the girls. Saturday afternoons she liked me in the stands showing she had the support of her family. The afternoons and evenings she wanted me to concentrate of making our house a home she could come home to and relax after work. It didn't occur to me at the time but my opinion was not sort. Looking back, she was right of course. Who would do the house work. 

      What she did agree to was allowing him to uses me in his promotional material. Today a photographer was coming to take some head shots of me in different hats to use in posters around the shop. I was wearing a peasant blouse that I could pull down my shoulders out of shot when needed. My corset had half cups so my shoulder would be bare. I wore my pearl ear rings and had my neckless in my bag if needed but the hats were the show pieces. 

      I opened up the shop and Monsieur Rabanna came in early with the photographer and stylist. They set up a big white screen and lights in Monsieur Rabanna's salon and then had me sit while they readied the first hat and worked on my face and hair.

     I wasn't prepared for the amount of hair and makeup changes needed. Each hat could be worn in different ways with a different hair style and makeup for each variation. 

The stylist was really nice, but un-nerved me when she said she had been told my secret and while doing a makeup change then asked me how long was it since I transitioned? I immediately coloured up and quietly said I hadn't. "Wow"she said. "Do mean you still have yourrrrr?" I just nodded. "How do you get your skin so soft. You must have very low testosterone production." 

I told her about the morning, afternoon and night skin routines as well as the baths. Kelly emphasized complexion and skin care from the start. Her comments did make me think about how small my little testis had got when I could find them. With them constantly tightly padded and girdled and my pipe tightly ribboned I wondered if that was having side effects. They looked nothing like the men's penises and cannonball Ish testis in the photos my wife shows me when teaching me how to handle them if I should have to. They were all so hairy as well. My wife prefers a little landing strip and my pipe ribbon tied with a dainty bow.

    The hats kept coming as well as the lipstick and hair changes. I was gradually getting more and more comfortable with the posing but felt a fraud when told to pout. It was a long day and I got none of my normal work done or mail orders out. That means there will be twice as much to do tomorrow.

(Tuesday Tulips) Short Story: Tulip Endures Some Uncomfortable Moments at the BBQ.

Tulip Fancy 

Tulips endures some uncomfortable moments in the conclusion to the BBQ

         After chatting with Mary for a while I noticed the buffet running low on a few things so went and put my apron on, touched up my face and refixed my hat. Peter was busy with trays of drinks and walking wine and champion bottles round. I toped up the salads and bought out some more bread and rolls and cleaned up some plates.

      Then Kelly and family arrived. She had her new boyfriend with her. Grant was tall and slim and I was glad he couldn't see my burning face under the brim of my hat as I was introduced as uncle Tulip. And then there was her mother, my sister-in-law. There is a ten-year gap between the sisters. My sister-in-law and Kelly were at our wedding. I had never met her husband before but his faint musky aroma instantly caused a reaction in my nipples held in the push up half cups of my Basque. It told me who he was. The man whose underpants I had had my face in for the last few weeks. I felt sick to my stomach. As part of her efforts to help me cope if I'm attacked, my wife has been what she calls putting me on a spit. This involves a false man's penis attached to the headboard of the bed sticking out through a pair of men's used underpants for me to get used to the smell. I would have to put the penis in my mouth while my wife would mount me from behind and call me nasty names, suggesting I was promiscuous or did this sort of thing for money. She encouraged me to stroke my nipples and imagine it was the rough hands of one of my attackers. It was quite a scary experience the first time. The penis on the headboard was a bit longer than the girlmaker she uses from behind and the only place for it to go is down my throat. With her hands on my hips stopping me from pulling back she keeps my nose buried in the underpants and the penis down my throat and with her keeping a steady rhythm at the back I could feel a girlgasm building but couldn't get a breath. I was starting to panic but then the wave hit me and she pulled me back. It's taken a few weeks but I don't panic anymore.  Now here he is, Crushing my weakly offered hand. He had to know I am a man as he is family. I tried my hardest to keep a pleasant welcoming smile on my blushing face despite the turmoil in my stomach. His wife had given his dirty big y fronts to my wife. I wondered if he knew. I escaped to the kitchen to collect myself as soon as I could.

      Another thing that shook me confidence. Was while collecting glasses around near the BBQ. My wife was turning steaks and scraping onions when one on the Hockey girls shouted my wife's name and suggested she should have done a spit roast instead. Well, the whole group just doubled over with laughter. I pretended not to hear but could not stop the blood running to my face. Was my wife sharing our intimate time together with her friends? Again, sickness returned to my stomach. 

      The golfers arrived after already spending time in the 19th. Mary joined her husband who had turned up with the rest of his playing group. One of which was the horrible man who had bought my clubs. I did my best to steer clear of them as much as possible but Peter wasn't so lucky. He had to put up with being called "Ou fairy". Bring us a beer princess. "Hey beer bitch" more beer here. I could see Peter was mortified by this behaviour but could only smile and comply. Peters' wife thought it was funny to watch and looked pleased. My wife thought it was disturbing the other guests so went and put a stop to it. Two of the golfers left straight away and my wife told another that if she heard another word out of him, she would call him a cab and put him in it. The trunk if necessary! I was so proud of her at that moment for coming to Peters aid my heart skipped a beat, I felt my bottom tighten, my nipples tingle which bought a blush to my cheeks. Having the wind knocked out of them they caused no more trouble.

      The other odd thing was Monsieur Rabanna. Every time Peter came round with a tray or a bottle Monsieur Rabanna would move to his husband's side and hold his arm as if guarding him. If Peter offered a drink or a refill, he would say no thankyou I will look after my husband if you don't mind. He also spent a lot of time talking to my wife when not guarding his husband. I really hoped he wasn't complaining about me. I liked my job and didn't want to have to find another one.

      With the kitchen cleaned up we went out to the fire pit where my wife, Peters wife and a couple of others were still having a late whiskey. My wife reached up and pulled me down onto her lap. Peters' wife did the same calling him Petal and asking him if he had enjoyed flirting with the golfers. I snuggled into my wife by the light of the fire. I must have dozed off as the next thing I remember is being carried into the house.    

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....

Taylor LaVie's Book: The Mixer at Lace & Leash

A week ago I covered Taylor LaVie's world of Boywives. LaVie has a new book out and wanted to share a portion of his sexy book The Mixer at Lace & Leash. I love LaVie's philosophy and appreciation of the feminized male taking on the submissive role of a woman. 

Link to LaVie's book at Amazon: 

The Mixer at Lace & Leash

 

(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....

Short Story: The Evolution of "Ashley"

Priscilla Gay Bouffant

Auntie captures the process helping her nephew transform into her niece"Ashley."

(Inspired from Tumblr of “Jennie Sissy” A Photo Study)

      When Auntie Jasmine discovered Ashley dressed in her “Things” Ashley became terrified. However, Auntie calmed her sissy Nephew.  

    “Oh my dear, Ashley. Don’t be silly. A boy trying on his Auntie’s pretties? Here darling. Allow Auntie Jasmine to help you. But I don’t want you all hairy like a boy when wearing my best lingerie,” Aunt Jasmine stated. 

    After making certain that Ashely’s skin was smooth, soft, hairless and sweetly scented. Auntie went ahead and began to dress her Sissy Niece.

    Weeks went by and Ashley, now fully dressed “En-Femme, now found “Herself” fully dressed as a girl, and seated in a Beauty Parlor. 

    Auntie was fully pleased with how demure and compliant Ashley was having his hair done at the salon. A pixie bob was a perfect look as Ashley continued his journey into femininity.

“Just think,” Auntie ruminated, “they wouldn’t even have to change Ashley’s name when her feminization was complete, just her pronouns, and very soon.”

After all, once Auntie takes Ashley back next month for her first perm, no one would ever imagine Ashley was ever a boy.

Isn’t Ashley adorable? A feminized boy’s first bob cut at the salon is such a momentous occasion.

But now it’s time for Ashley’s first perm!

Auntie relented last January, and delayed perming her now “Niece” for a year, to give her time to embrace her feminization.

Ashley knows full well that her perm marks the end to any possibility of boyhood ever again.

Auntie loved how cute Ashley looked being permed and when her freshly permed curls emerged, Auntie Jasmine was beside herself with joy. 

Yes, a perm, at least every six months, would be best to reinforce, to her now, “Niece,” just how feminine and dainty she has become as a girl.

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Comments? Feedback 

Reach the Author:

priscillagaybouffant@gmail.com

Halloween Stories from Shawna Summers

Happy Halloween Week everyone! Shawna Summers has a nice collection of Halloween themed stories for your enjoyment! Stories of dressing up and becoming pretty for a night that they will remember!

Link:

Dressed for, A Trick or Treat 

Working for Halloween

Short Story: John Peters is worried about his future.

Dear Mistress Judith,

       I'm writing to you in despair. Having been given an opportunity by my new Mistress and Mr Wilcox I let them down badly. The first gathering of Mistresses friends I had served at and I got dizzy and dropped a tray of cucumber sandwiches. After helping her friends off with their hats, coats and stoles at the door I showed them into the drawing room. Each coat I removed revealed another beautiful blouse or dress made of some exotic or expensive fabric. I know cotton uniforms and dresses are the most I can hope for but I do dream of assisting you into such lovely garments when I return to the Manor as your maid. The sound of their skirts as they walked and mingled, The blended smell of all their perfumes. Their elaborate hair styles and confident aristocratic manner all combined to make me come over with a dizzy spell, drop the sandwiches and lose consciousness for a moment. I woke with my head cradled in the satin skirts of one fine lady as three more peered down at me. One had a fan and was blowing air on me. I struggled to my feet and apologized as I adjusted my skirts, re-fixed my head band and tried to clean up my mess. I was so ashamed as I heard My Mistress say that Wilcox had warned her. The other lady said she thought it very modern, having a "De-Maled" Nancy Boy as a Parlour Maid. When I returned to my room, I had to change my bloomers as I had also suffered a semen surge as I was passing out.

      Things had been going well. Mr Jenkins has been helping me with my control by buggering me slowly. He is encouraging me to practice my clench and roll. He says my goal should be to bring him to a finish without him having to move. While my old master concentrated on purging me of the silly notions, I used to have of maleness by aggressively filling me with his seed and explaining the difference between me and a man. Mr Jenkins is teaching me to please a man. My new master has already used me and said I had greatly improved. I glowed with pride when he said that.

     The shooting weekend went well as you know. I managed to sneak a peek at you through the upstairs banisters. You were holding Sir Charles's arm and I could almost feel your admiration for him as he led you into the ball room on the Saturday night. He looked so strong and handsome in his regimental uniform and your gown was so beautiful. I just wished it had been me that had dressed you for him. On the Sunday afternoon I had to give the beaters their incentive to show up early for the next shoot. Mr Granger was very nice and laid a blanket out in one of the stables to keep my uniform clean. He also put down a jug of water and glass for me. He led the first villager in. I was not quite prepared for the smell. Tramping around in the woods all day has its side effects. I must say that none of the villagers were as large and virile as the men on the estate. The larger ones did take a bit more work but I was happy to receive the reward. One fellow finished before I got him out of his pants and a couple were so small I wondered if perhaps like me they had been misled about their true sex. Mr Granger stopped it at ten and told the rest of the lineup it was only the earliest ten that received my favours. Mr Granger said I did very well and there would be no shortage of beaters for the next shoot.

     So, after feeling like I was making progress and I would be ready when you asked me to come back to the Manor and be your maid, I lose control of my sensibilities and embarrassed my Mistress. Mr Wilcox wants to see me first thing in the morning. If you do find some kind words for me, I hope they find me still here after the meeting.

You're ever loving but ashamed and embarrassed husband,

John

(Written by Tulips Love you lots.)

Tuesday Tulips Short Story: Tulip Gets Some Job Satisfaction

Tulip Fancy

Our sweet girl, Tulips lands a job being a sales clerk in a shop.  

     I was quite enjoying working for Monsieur Rabanna he's a really nice man. I thought it was just serving in a shop when I started there. But it has turned out to be so much more. We put on a show, more of a performance than anything else. He likes the shop to have the feel of an old-fashioned department store. I wear my black and white black knee length skirt, white blouse nothing to fancy maybe a pussy bow nothing to upstage the customer. "We must always make the customers feel superior to us." he says.  I must always call the customer "Madame" and always call him "Monsieur Rabanna" when people are in the shop and he calls me Tulip. He will clap his hands when he wants me to bring him something for a customer. 

      Ladies come in months in advance of an event they are attending. They already have an outfit in mind and want him to design and make a hat to suit. He has meetings with them in what he calls his salon. I will make tea and take it into them on a silver tray. Pour it for them and return to the shop. If he wants something he will call my name and clap his hands twice. I will hurry in as fast as my heels and skirt will allow and attend to their needs. Some of the ladies have been going to him for years. He says if we were just selling hats it wouldn't work. We have to make them feel special. He also prefers appointment only for his own designs that way he can make sure the ladies don't meet. Every now and then he refuses an appointment to maintain his exclusive reputation. Sometimes he might have three or four different hats at the same event. 

       I liked being part of this and he showed me how to dress the cheaper hat blanks he buys in bulk for the cheaper end of the market that keeps the doors open. He couldn't pay me much and I still hadn't been able to contribute to the household budget. I really feel like I was letting my wife down, but everything I make seamed to go on things I'm told I need. 

    Since Kelly had started my waist training, I have had to buy new skirts for work and a couple of extra blouses. One you could slightly see the outline of my stays through. Monsieur Rabanna was very complimentary and said it fitted the look of the shop. Every week there is something new. whether it is skin softeners for my bubble baths replacement shower hats or a new pallet or lipstick shade. Even my weekly hair dressing goes on the housekeeping card. I can't even pay for that. 

      My wife says she has never had any expectations that I would support us. Which shocked me a little. Don't all women expect that of their husband if need be. She says the work I do around the home is the most important thing. If I can keep my little part time shop job that makes her happy, if it makes me happy.

Short Story: John Peters Gets a Promotion

Journal Entry: 

I put my polishing rag into my bucket, wiped my hands on my apron, got up off my knees and followed Mr Wilcox to his office and stood in front of his desk. My stomach was in turmoil, to make matters worse  I had an urgent need to pee. 

He sat down on the other side of the desk. I felt those eyes drilling into me. He started to speak in that deep clear voice. He said that despite his misgivings the mistress had ask that I be made up to Parlour Maid. 

She has asked that, "You be freshly uniformed at all times and that your hands are gloved when not attending to her.' I know you have claimed to have filled in at this level at the manor, but I am skeptical. I know how clumsy and flustered you fairy boys get when in the presents of groups of accomplished women of stature. I do not want to hear any rattling China or spilt tea. You must concentrate on smooth graceful movements. Your actions reflect on the estate." 

"Do not let the mistress down." Keeping my eyes lowered, I curtsied and said, "Yes Mr. Wilcox."

Then he did what I was desperately hoping he would not. He pushed his chair back from his desk and taped his knee. I could feel the blood draining from my face as I said the words I knew he wanted to hear. 

"Oh, please Daddy can I please play with your happy sausage and make it squirt with joy." 

"Of course you can pumpkin," he replied smiling. 

I walk around to his side of the desk, sat on one knee and unbuttoned his monster's cave. 

It is so much bigger than anything I have had to deal with before. I held it in two hands as I massaged it until he finally orgasmed and flooded the front of my apron, after the third round of my lisping Baa Baa black sheep rendition. I had written to Mistress Judith about it but she had scolded me for questioning a superior's actions and reminded me that when attending to Mr Wilcox. I was literally, 'holding my career in my hands'. I cleaned him up with my mop hat. 

"Good Girl," he remarked.

I put him away and climbed off his lap. I held up the corners of my apron to contain the mess and keep it from soaking through too my dress as I stood to leave. He asked me to send Tilly to him if I saw her. Tilly was the Parlour Maid and a friend of mine. I used to practice my hair skills on her in the evening. She was in the corridor as I went to change my apron. I passed on the message. Later that day I saw her shaking people's hands, hugging and sobbing, she was in her overcoat with a small suitcase. She opened the servants entrance door looked me straight in the eye and just said, "Slut" as she left. I've never felt so ashamed....

(Written By: Tulips Fancy) 

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.

Short Story: John Peters Gets a Letter from His Wife....

Dear John,

  It's lovely to hear you are settling in on the Stagmore Estate. It's been a few months since I've had you to clean up Sir Charles's out pourings. I never appreciated your skill until you were gone. Sir Charles is having a lot of fun with your replacement. He was always really disappointed with you. He said your manliness was only skin deep and peeled away with a stern look. In contrast your replacement still needs to be held down after four months by two footmen for Sir Charles to make a deposit. Although I believe he has started too involuntary orgasm into the pink fairy soupy cup when Sir Charles lets fly with his hot jet. As you know there will be no going back for him now.  He will start to rationalize it in his head. Tell himself delusional little stories to make himself feel better, but as you know he will not orgasm again unless he is consuming meat and the natural juices that goes with it. I'm not sure he will ever make it in service. He seems far too rough. Maybe they will send him down to the docks to service the sailors when the ships come in.  

Billeting you with Jenkins must be a comfort to you. A girl needs the reassuring presents of a strong man lying next to her. All those years I had to put up with you taught me that. I gather the countess is pleased with your clean up skills and I must say I'm jealous.  I believe the Earl has now got your throat working properly and you will be entertaining the beaters after the shoot this weekend. That must be a great honour for you. I am so proud of you. Sir Charles never had the patients to teach you properly. I'm glad the Earl was able to spend those long evenings with you under his card table on poker nights. I'm sure going through the knees of all those stockings has been worth it.   

You're ever loving and now totally satisfied wife.

Mistress Judith.

     (Written by Tulip Fancy)

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?

Tuesday Tulip's Short Story: Tulips Uncomfortable Journey Home

Tulips Fancy

Our sweet girl Tulips, has to buy some intimate private shopping items.... which make her question things...

    It had been a busy day. Customers coming in more often than usual which made it hard to get all my mail orders done. Monsieur Rabanna has a quite a few commissions so he was busy in his studio. A couple of the mail orders were made by me. Too Monsieur Rabannas designs and inspected by him but I was feeling quite proud. The parcels got picked up and it was time head to the shops on my way home.

    Standing in the Chemist shop I looked into the basket and back to my list. I had our usual personal hygiene products. The nail polish remover and the Hydration masks Kelly wants me to try at night. The last item on my list was written in my wife's hand writing. It said Durex Pleasure Me Condoms 10 pack. I knew the name Durex and what they were for, but didn't understand why. My wife always says the only reason to put a penis in a woman is if you are planning to conceive children and you can't do that with a Durex on, so it never made much sense to me. What would she want with them? 

    I searched the isles until I found them. I can't tell you how embarrassed I felt putting them in my basket. I quickly left that isle and walked through the make-up section before going to the check out. This caused even more anxiety. I pretended to fiddle with something in my purse to ovoid making eye contact with the check-out girl. I paid with my house keeping card. She looked at my name on the card and said "Oh what a lovely name" I blushed even more before saying thanks and left as quickly as I could. I wondered what she thought of me as she rung them up. Did she notice my wedding ring was fake and think I was some sort of slut or a hooker! I'm sure most girls could at that range. Could she tell I was not a real woman and think I was homosexual and buying them for my boyfriend?! I hoped I wouldn't have to do it again.

    I try to pick up a few things every day on my way home from work. That way it's not too heavy for me to carry on the bus. I have a little string bag that I keep in my handbag.  I quickly transferred the packet of condoms into my handbag. Everyone on the bus would be able to see them in the string bag. I kept my handbag in my lap and opened my compact to check my face. In the reflection I could also see a man in the back of the bus looking at me. He had also been in the chemist. I quickly closed up my mirror and looked out the window. We passed my old school where I had never been given a proper chance. Tall people are always thought of as smarter even when there not. I was always held back with the slower kids. Past the playing fields where after school I'd wait to be picked on a team. Most teams had regular players so it was hard to get in. Still carrying the water bottles out was fun. I got off the bus and thankfully the man stayed on. Arriving home, I put the shopping away. Not sure what to do with the condoms, I put them in the bathroom cabinet. That's when I noticed I had forgotten to get more douches. I hope that same girl isn't on the checkout tomorrow. 

Short Story: Letter of Reference for John Peters

Edward my old friend,

   It is time for me to move Peters on. You know my fun is in the breaking. Having completely broken him now and his only ambition is to become a Lady's Maid, a delusion I suggest you keep going. It helps to keep cuck motivated. I have no more interest in him. I know you are much better at finishing them than I am.

 You will be pleased to know I have left his gag reflex intact as I know you like nothing more than to have a De-maled Harlot on his knees in front of you choking down a load. The house keeper reports after an initial period of attitude adjustment he is a competent housemaid. 

    After you have finished with him, I suggest you pass him on to Granger as a treat for the beaters after the shoot. It is looking like a good season coming up and we want to keep them happy.

   You will be please to know I am breaking in a new one at present time and this one is much more fun than that sap Peters. I have had to have him held down so far which always makes for a memorable moment for both of us. The house keeper is not happy, as he is still at hobble and gag stage and getting a good days work out of him is a struggle. She will miss Peters until he is broken.

Take him if you can,

Charles

(Written by Tulip Fancy)

(Short Story) Application for Transfer of Ownership

Sir,

      I am writing to you at the suggestion of my current Master and Mistress. They are aware that you visited my room on the night of your last visit and honored me with your seed. I have been in service with them since Sir Charles liberated my wife from the unsatisfying existence she had with me.

     I have two years' experience as a house maid. I have on occasion filled in as Parlour Maid. On my half day off, I have been studying hair and makeup. In the evenings I practice my stitch work in the hope of rising to Lady's Maid.

    I was "broken and broken in" by Sir Charles and was taken by one of the stable lads while taking an airing in the grounds one evening. Other than that, yours is the only seed I have taken. I douche regularly as required. I still attend to my wife's hygiene after Sir Charles has "taken her to Heaven" and hope to return to the manor when her current Ladies maid retires.

   Until then Sir Charles feels it better if I acquire experience in a different house hold. He is breaking in a new house maid at the moment and will soon require my room. When Sir Charles took ownership of us, he also took ownership of our property. He has put it in trust for the use of my owner to meet any training, medical procedures or uniforms I might need.

  I hope you can find a place for me in your household in whatever capacity you deem fit. Sir Charles has supplied a written reference.  

Hopefully to soon be your obedient servant.

Mr John Peters

House maid Stockton Manor.

(This was written by Tulip Fancy)

Tulip Tuesday Short Story: Tulip Learns to Keep His Shoulders Back

Tulip Fancy

Our favorite feminized housewife recalls a moment years ago when she was first called Tulip

I was grateful for her concern about my posture and her efforts to stop me slouching. We had not been seeing each other long and it felt good to have someone care that much about me. Her gentle reminders to keep my shoulders back and chin up. I hadn't realized I had a problem until she pointed it out. The biggest problem she said, was going to be when I was at work and she couldn't remind me. That's when she came up with the idea of a harness. I was a bit skeptical but happy for her help. When I took my shirt off, she came back with one of her sports bras. It wasn't what I was expecting but put my arms up when she said it was just to find out my size. It was quite large on me but she said it gave her an idea of my correct size. When I lifted my arms for her to take it off me, she noticed the little patch of hair under my arm pits. She turned her nose up and said I should get rid of that; it is very unhygienic. Something else I had not realized. 

When she came home from work it was later than normal. I was in the garage trying to practice my swing. I had just taken up golf, but could not seem to get the hang of it. She seemed a little put out when she saw me. How come I had not started dinner yet? I felt embarrassed and a little ashamed. The tone she used made me feel even smaller than usual. I put my head down and confessed that I didn't know how to cook. Up until now I had just chopped what she told me to and she did the cooking. Well, that's going to change she said walking back in. I instinctively knew I was expected to follow. She cooked while I was a kitchen hand. The atmosphere was a bit frosty and I vowed to myself that I would win back her favor.  

Once dinner was cleared away, she bought a bag into our room and told me to take my shirt off. Once I had stripped down, she bought out a white garment that looked like a smaller version of her sports bra I had tried on earlier. I was expecting something with straps and buckles. Not wanting to seem difficult I let her pull it down over my torso. I let her turn me this way and that. She adjusted a couple of things at the back and on the shoulders. There did seem to be some weight to it as if it was slightly enhanced and the bottom band seemed to dig in and lift my chest a little. She had me stand back and then walk up and down the room. I could definitely feel there was extra weight at the front that caused me to pull my shoulders back. 

"That is a dramatic improvement," she said as I noticed her mood lighten.

She got me to stand in the middle of the room and put one hand on my hip. I was happy she was smiling again. 

"Yes," she said with a smile. "That is much better Tulip."

She came over and took one of my hands and led me back to the arm chair, sat down and pulled me down onto her lap. 

"Did you just call me Tulip? "I asked. 

"With your thin stem and big hair, you just reminded me of a Tulip," she said nibbling at my neck. 

I wasn't happy with the feminine connotation, but I could feel her breath on my neck as she cuddled my semi naked body and decided to concentrated on not allowing my penis to become stiff having just got back in her good books.  I knew my tongue would be busy that night.....

Short Story: Tulips Salon Education Begins

Written by Tulip Fancy

Our girl is taken to hair salon where she is starting to be one the girls and hears the gossip of the ladies' bedroom life and recalls her own experiences as the "woman" in the bedroom. 

    My wife dropped me off at the hairdressers as she has for the last three Saturday mornings. I was now on smiling and nodding terms with the ladies that shared my time slot. Like me, they filed in with their week ravaged hairdos under head scarves. We hung up bags, coats and scarves and went and sat at our normal sinks. The other ladies were all chatting and inquiring after family members. I was still new and a bit shy so just listened. 

    Sally handed out the capes. I wasn't wearing one of my new corsets, just a normal girdle although Kelly did reattach the garter tabs, so I could wear my new stockings. She said wearing stockings has really improved the way I walk. I know it has made me very self-conscious. Every little step brings a little tug. So, when Sue tied my cape and got me to sit and lean back into the sink it was no trouble. This part I really like, having my hair washed and scalp massaged by someone else is Heaven, even if the rest of the process is mild torture. 

    Listening to the girls and woman chatting, discussing the men in their lives. Often made me question things that I thought I knew and were common knowledge. Maybe things are not how I thought they were. Things that my wife explained to me in the past. 

     Contrary to what I was led to believe, it almost seemed like some women enjoyed receiving a man's penis even when they weren't planning to have children. 

    When I wanted to enter my wife in bed for a change she told me, "The only reason a man would use his penis in a woman and would allow him, is to make children." After that, I never tried to initiate "traditional" sex again. She made me settle to allowing simply my tongue to touch her vagina to satisfy her. The man would take pleasure from knowing he has done a good job for his wife and just discharge in the night naturally because it was just waste sperm...sperm that would never go into her. Or perhaps the wife will help in another way, like my wife has lately. And like the help I had to give our neighbor Derick, sucking his cock. Although I mostly try to put that out of my mind. I think I can still smell and taste his discharge sometimes particularly when my wife is making love to me with her dildo. 

      I remember at the time noticing that Derick still got very ridged, particularly just before he discharged his semen into my mouth. I thought at the time it must be because they were again trying to get pregnant with his wife Doreen (I was "helping" a neighbor). I'm not so sure now. It must be quite annoying, becoming randomly stiff. Thankfully my wife showed me how to cure it. After about a year wearing a pipe ribbon, I was cured. I haven't needed it for a couple of years now but my wife likes to see it. She says it makes my pipe look petite and dainty and will continue to reduce its size and make my panties and girdles fit better and more comfortably.

    I don't really believe half the things that the woman at the hairdressers says about their men. I think they just like to gossip. I don't behave in a way they say their men do and I doubt they do either. Like the men at the diner, I think the woman are just mouthing off to their friends. 

    As the foils were being taken out of me hair. I could see what Kelly meant about the contrast of the caramel highlight on the brunette colour I was given last week. It was a little more striking than I had imagined when Kelly told me what I was booked in for. I will definitely be wearing a scarf over it on the bus on Monday.