It was Saturday midday, we had been cleaning the house and shopping for groceries, and now it was time for a break, some lunch and read a paper.

As we ate Emma looked at me and laughed, ‘Only just realized we are dressed identically again, jeans, trainers, brown fleece top, both got pony tails.’

She was still giggling when I said ‘so what? I just picked what was to hand.’

Then she went odd on me, she started to wonder what else we wore that was sexually neutral. I had many t shirts which she did borrow, we both had white shirts, but called hers a blouse, we both had regular trousers, and unfitted jackets. When we discussed this we realized how little we had that was gender specific, Emma had a few skirts, dresses and heels, I had work suits and ties which rarely got worn nowadays.

Soon the discussion had lead us into the bedroom and we were looking through our wardrobes commenting on the contents, it was as I pulled a brown cotton blouse out and was agreeing how it was quite androgynous, that Emma sprang up, ‘How about we pick our clothes from the wrong wardrobe, we are about the same size so they should fit?’ she smiled at me ‘See if the brown fits?’

I was a bit off guard by her comments, but she has a lovely smile and I pulled my fleece off and the t shirt it was hiding. The first thing I noticed was how soft her cotton shirt was, then how the buttons were on the wrong side. ‘Now my turn’ and she picked out one of my loose cable knit jumpers, ‘I always liked this one, will keep me warm I bet’ then she took her jeans off and picked out a pair of my chinos. ‘Your turn’ she pointedly said to me.

I was perplexed, ‘I’m not sure, the shirt is nice but why trousers?’

‘Just for fun, come on, let’s see you in my cream ones with the turn ups’

They were a bit snug on the hips and loose around the waist, well bit of a low waist more like hips, so I clipped the belt to fit my waist, but the length was about right, and to be honest did feel quite different to my usual trousers, they were made of a new material for me and did not have the stiffness of my usual clothes. She enquired how they felt, and I told her how different they were. Then she picked up my black shoes and slipped them on and tied the laces.

‘Oh I don’t think shoes are so easy to swap’ but she went into her shoes and passed me a pair of brown ankle boots with nearly no heel, ‘There you go, be perfect’ and they were, I zipped up the sides and instantly recognized how much you could feel through the soles, they were so supple and thin.

‘One last thing’ she was smiling again ‘you pick one of your necklace/chains for me, and I will pick one of mine for you. Deal?’

I passed her a leather lace with a stone cross on the loop, she passed me a fine chain with a green pendant hanging of it. ‘Whoa, that is not neutral’ ‘Who said it was, but I wear it with that blouse, so here you go it will look fine’

Next she suggested we release our hair from the tails and brush it out, then standing next to one another before the mirror we had to admit we did look a bit in the wrong clothes but not much, Emma looked a little stockier with my clothes, whereas I looked a bit camp, without the pendant I doubt I would have noticed.

We spent the rest of the day dressed that way, Emma went out for a few things she forgot earlier, I pottered about the house venturing out to the bins with rubbish and was sure I was conspicuous in my nice soft clothes. Then as I was preparing the evening meal Emma came out with another of her daft ideas. We go out later dressed as we are. I reacted quickly with a no, but she was not put off asking me if I liked the feel, if I liked the way they hung, if they felt nice, finishing with ‘Seeing as it was a yes to all those questions, then we might as well go out and enjoy them outside.’ We decided on a pub in the centre of town we had never been to but had heard about because of the attraction it had for alternative ways of dressing, which when I considered it, was exactly what we were doing.

Off course I had to borrow one of Emma’s jackets, a nice short brown one cut like a jeans jacket, Emma took my suede jacket. My first problem was a lack of pockets, and having nowhere for my wallet or keys, Emma laughed and told me how great the trouser pockets were, then offered me a shoulder bag, to which I just said ‘What the heck, in for a penny, in for a pound’

The evening was a real eye opener, I only thought people dressed in such outlandish ways for TV programs, but here on these few streets it seemed you could dress and be whatever you wanted to be. We talked about what we had seen all the way home, and how we had not once felt odd, if anything we felt a little understated.

Sunday is usually a lie in, then visit relatives, or go for a walk, maybe pub lunch and relax. Emma decided she fancied a pub lunch out in the country, and went to my wardrobe to select her clothes. I watched as she picked out a fashion shirt, jeans and my cowboy dealer boots then went to my drawers and selected boxers and a plain cotton t shirt I wore as a vest.

‘I suppose this means I am going to get dressed in your stuff’

‘Yes it does dear, and you know you will love it’ she said as she climbed on the bed to give me a kiss.

I went to get the things I had worn the day before, ‘Boring’ Emma shouted ‘be adventurous, try something different, like this’ she pulled out a white silk blouse. ‘Not very neutral’ I objected ‘Try it on, you will love it’ it was made with what I call a proper collar and it was wonderful to touch as it slid up my arms and over my shoulders, my smile gave me away ‘Told you so’ Emma crowed. Next she handed me a pair of control pants, which held everything flat at the front, then her leather trousers, I had nothing like these and honestly had only seen a few men wearing such things. They were very tight but did look right. She was now dressed and with her hair brushed behind her ears, made me think she looked handsome more than pretty. ‘I normally wear these heels with those trousers, don’t suppose you would like them?’ I gave her an incredulous look ‘But I am in your heels, why not you in mine’ I countered with ‘they are higher and narrower to start with’ this meant she found a block heel that was lower and gave me one of her smiles. I tried them on and true they were not much different to my cowboys, just far less chunky and far daintier.

In the bathroom I brushed my hair and not for the first time felt that a beard might have helped with a masculine image, even the faint shadow of a few days growth would at times have been welcome. Today though, it just felt as though a dark chin would look wrong. I brushed my hair into a side parting so the fringe came across my face, Emma would like that I told myself and went out to show her the dressed me.

‘Fantastic, do you like it?’

‘I feel more of a girl than you do, if you want to know’

‘Well in that case, why don’t I help you along?’

Before I could really object, she had me washing my hair so she could blow dry it into a style she liked, which was pretty much as before, just with a few flicks and hair spray to hold the fringe in place. Then she added some colour to my checks, mascara to my eyes and lip gloss over my pink coloured lips. Finally she squirted scent on me. ‘Was that necessary?’ ‘No, but it makes you smell nice. Now I think you should wear this’ she slid her wedding and engagement rings off and took my chunky gold band for herself.

‘This is so much fun, for today you can be me and I will be you. Now come along Emma lets get moving’ this was all happening a bit quickly, we had gone from swapping clothes to swapping genders in a couple of days, but it was fun and very nice fun at that, I just picked up the shoulder bag, stuck my hands out in a camp fashion and in a falsetto voice said ‘Coming dear’

Outside was a shock when I thought of all the people who might see us drive away, but no one was out on their fronts, so I could breathe again. Emma, the real one, it seemed had changed where she wanted to go, we were heading into town not out to the country pub we usually did, which was a relief when I thought about how I was dressed and the many opportunities to be embarrassed.

We ate in a place near where we had gone the night before, there were a few unusual fashions around, but not like the evening, but we had a good time watching the passers by and commenting on how they looked, or trying to guess what comments they might be making about us from the looks we occasionally got. The meal over Emma decided she would like to take a walk around the city, something we never did. So we left the safe streets of the gay village and walked past grand Victorian buildings and into the back streets quiet for the weekend, then into the shopping streets and onto the cathedral, it was fascinating for many reasons, we had not really been in town for anything other than business, the clothes were making us feel self conscious, and for me the constant worry someone was going to say ‘That’s a man’ in a loud voice, had me on full alert.

That nobody commented, that no one seemed to care, meant that after an hour of wandering we stopped for a coffee and watched the world pass by without thinking we were being scrutinized by every pair of eyes. And then there was the sensations for me of new fabrics against my skin, the silk was wonderfully luxurious, Emma even caught me stroking it as we sat in the café, ‘You liking this?’ she asked.

‘Are you?’ I countered

‘Love the comfort of these clothes and the room in them, and pockets, also have you noticed the waiter gave me the bill, this is great fun, an eye opener for me. And you?’

‘I can’t believe you prefer my clothes, this silk is lovely, the trousers are a bit tight, but feel great. And yes I did notice him, was nice not to be in charge and let you be seen as the ‘boss’ for a change’

With that she got up and went to pay. As we made our way back to the car I could not help looking in the fashion shops and imagining myself trying on some of the outfits on show, even Emma slowed at a window of men’s clothes and asked if I had ever thought of getting a collarless jacket. Maybe she was having ideas of wearing my stuff more often.

With work the next day, we went home and had a quiet evening, but I had a few things to learn, Emma was enjoying her male dominant role, and to some extent I played the submissive female role to please her and join in the fun. She would assume I would make supper and fetch drinks when she was watching something on the TV, and say things like ‘Thank you darling’ in a patronizing way. But it was all done in fun and we enjoyed ourselves. I also learnt that before bed comes cleansing or else the pillow gets the make up and my morning face would need more than a quick rinse. We both learnt that having fun through the day, leads to fun in bed as the energy of the day followed us until we collapsed and slept.

Come the morning it was back to normal, both dressed for work in regular work clothes, had breakfast and left for work. I must admit to having a few daydreams about the weekend and reliving moments that had been the most fun. But Emma had clearly had a different experience, when I got home she had changed from her bank teller uniform into one of my sweaters and a pair of jeans, she would often change when she got home, but to go for my clothes was a clear sign the weekend had made its mark. I normally only change if going out in the evening, and as I was stopping in I remained in my work clothes, nothing unusual for me at all.

I did not remark on Emma’s choice of evening wear, but every night she would change into something of mine, so by Thursday I casually asked how she was feeling about things. It was obvious she had got a real buzz from her masculine identity and explained how the bank’s skirt suit was just so uncomfortable she was glad to get home and change. I always thought the suits though pedestrian were quite nice and comfortable, clearly I was wrong.

Come the weekend Emma got up early and picked out my jeans and a fleece top, then set about some breakfast which she brought back to me in bed. ‘This should be your job you know’, ‘why?’ I asked because I fancy being Paul again and calling you Emma. Now to say the idea had not crossed my mind would have been a lie, and I had been lying in bed considering what I could try on this time, but here was Emma being very positive about how she wanted the situation to develop.

‘And you think I will do whatever you suggest’

‘Off course you will seeing as how I am the man of the house, come on swap rings and get dressed in something soft and sensual, you know you want to!’ she took my hand and took my ring off and without complaint from me, replaced it with hers. Then looking me in the eye, ‘Right now that is done, I will get of to the shops, while you make a start on the cleaning’ and with a kiss she was gone.

I got up and showered, then dried my hair brushing it out to create more volume, then styling it something like it had been the Sunday before, next the wardrobe, she had some satin cargo pants I fancied trying on, and with a loose angora sweater I felt quite feminine. Next I played with mascara and lipstick before looking at shoes and thinking ‘Maybe I could try something proper girlie’ I settled on flat sandals that had beads along the strings which ran over my feet and toes. Finally I looked in the mirror and had to accept the image I saw was not that of a man, rather a man dressed in women’s clothes but not quite getting the woman bit right. I reckoned the point was not to be a woman, just to wear women’s stuff and that is what I was certainly doing, not a stitch of my own clothes was on me, and truthfully I felt great in the satin and soft wool, and if it pleased her I would happily run around and play her dutiful wife.

I had only just finished getting dressed when the boss got back. I flounced out to meet her and give her a kiss, made her a drink before getting on with the cleaning. The reaction I got from her about how I looked was very encouraging, especially as she squeezed my bum through the satin, the control pants in a thong style made this very pleasing to me also.

We had another trip into the gay village for more people watching, and being comfortable dressed in what we felt was unconventional. Emma wore a tie for the first time, and I had changed for the evening into a pair of long loose black trousers with a tunic style top that was more like a short dress, she redid my make up and I could instantly see how she had got far more definition into my face with the colours, but my main step out of masculinity that night was to wear a pair of 2" court shoes, the heel was a block type so they were not hard to walk in, but they were definitely a ladies shoe, and I most certainly had gone along way from the neutral look we had started with.

On this visit we were more relaxed and able to chat with other people out for the evening, it is a surprisingly friendly place, and the alcohol helps, and so we chatted to various people of various life styles, we got on really well with a couple of transvestites who were OTT with the towering platform heels, micro skirts and enormous chests, but they were enjoying themselves, Emma got chatted up by a group of lesbians when she went to the bar, nothing happened that seemed wrong or deviant and we felt more at ease with these people than we might do at the squash club or having a drink at the local. As we left we agreed we would be back whenever possible. But not till the next weekend at least, family duties beckoned for our Sunday.

But visiting family did not stop Emma, she wore my boxers and the cable sweater, and as I thought about it I came up with silky knickers and her brown cashmere sweater. All very neutral and quite acceptable we thought, but my mother recognized how we had swapped tops and questioned us about it. Emma calmly explained how we were experimenting with clothes and as we often dress alike then why not use each others clothes to dress in, my mother found the whole idea amusing and confided that she often wore my father’s clothes for gardening, and if it was cold outside she would wear his warm clothes. Maybe it is genetic we laughed then changed the subject.

The weekend’s experiences did have an effect on me during the week, at first I just got up and dressed for work, but in idle moments I would find myself considering what I could wear for a change, or what I might like to try at the weekend if Emma wanted to swap rings again. By the time Friday had come around I was wearing knickers and a plain grey sweater of Emma’s to work. I was also noticing what people in the office wore, the women seemed to be smart in general, but the men had no dress code of suit and tie though one or two women dressed quite casually there was a majority of men who dressed casually almost to the point of not caring with terrible colour combinations and well worn clothes that might be fashion but don’t look good to me. So I felt my grey top would be in keeping with office style. During the evenings I spent time on the internet finding out about styles, fashion and make up, mainly wondering what might suit me, a bit of how I could make the cosmetics work better, and also how to style hair which I decided was going to be this weekend’s challenge.

On the Saturday morning I waited until Emma had gone out shopping, in my clothes off course, then showered and conditioned my hair before setting about the task of styling. I had Emma’s curling tongues and blow drier as well as setting lotion. It was not a quick process, but by the time I had finished I had it curling under at the back and flicking out at the sides with a fringe sweeping across my face then joining the side flick. A bit of a Dallas look really but I felt not bad for a first try. Then I dressed in a blouse, not wanting to disturb my hair and jeans before starting on the cleaning.

Emma loved what I had done to my hair and teased that I should try perms or dyes next time. Once I had finished the housework I had time to play with cosmetics and as Emma did not use that much make up I had forced myself to go and buy my own hoping it would not look to obvious I was buying for myself. I spread the foundation, then blusher on my face before dusting it. Next I applied a light bronze to my eyelids, then a fine line along the top lid finishing the eyes with lash lengthening mascara. Last I outlined my lips with a pink pencil, to stop it bleeding the notes told me, then filled with what I hoped would be a nice but not in your face creamy pink which promised not to wear off till the night was over. Then I slipped into the white silk blouse and the baggy soft black trousers, finishing off with a pair of Emma’s kitten heels, thinking the narrow heel would be odd at first but not as odd as a higher narrow heel might feel.

To say Emma was impressed would be an understatement; she loved my look and called me pretty. As expected we had a night visiting bars in our favourite part of the city, again we had lots of watching to do as well as chatting with fellow customers, Emma proudly boasted that she had been flirting with some girls, so when we went in a bar with a dance floor and a man asked me for a dance I accepted and wiggled my ass to the music, Emma watched with a grin on her face, and he gave me a long kiss as I parted from my partner. On our way home we discussed the evening and events. I stuck with the ‘I am enjoying the clothes’ but something was stirring in me that said I liked being feminine, flattered and to some extent submissive, at the weekend I would do whatever Emma as the man asked me to do and I did not mind at all. Emma expressed how much fun it was to be thought of as the boss, and have pretty girls chat to her thinking she was gay also. We ended with a passionate bedtime romp, confirming to each other that this life style suited us in more ways than one and we were going to see just where it took us.

Sunday we went for a hike, but as we had not exchanged rings I wore the pink jacket, Emma took my walking gear. Then once home it was a good shower to remove the girlie traces from my hair and face ready for a day in the office.

Weekdays became more neutral as I wore more of Emma’s less feminine tops; I even bought myself some knickers that while being soft still had enough room for my boy bits. I also continued my internet searching looking at hair styles and make up choices, Emma had made a few suggestions on the Sunday gently so as not to hurt my confidence. I did question myself why I was doing a feminine face when I was generally doing this cross dressing so I could wear neutral clothes that felt great on me. In the end I came to the conclusion that I would wear make up because it pleased Emma, I liked the way it made me look, I was enjoying finding out about these things, and especially when I was out at the weekend to wear what is clearly a woman’s outfit would look odd with a man’s head on top. With make up and hair I would look and feel more complete in the image I was portraying, and so enjoy the clothes more openly. With that sorted I planned on going for as good as I could without doing something I could not return from on the Monday.

Friday evening was spent shopping and planning what I would do on the Saturday, so come the morning I was ready and did not spend time in bed thinking what to do. I was showered and in a robe before breakfast and was conditioning my hair as Emma left for the shops. This time I used the tongues to create a head full of curls and used clips to hold the fringe to the side after brushing it to get some of the tighter curls to relax and fall better. Then I did my face, foundation, blusher, liner (top and bottom) mascara and lips (this time a darker burgundy). The hair was less fixed so I choose a plum roll neck top with the satin cargo pants, finally deciding that I should have a go in proper heels and picked a pair of 3" wedge sandals. I was ready before the boss returned this time and had made some way through the housework when she came home. Once again she loved what I had done, and approved of my ideas for what to do with my eyes when we went out that evening, which was to go for a smoky effect on the lids and keeping the same lipstick but using a little more blusher to define the cheek bones.

We had the house all sorted by early afternoon, and Emma asked if I fancied going out, she wanted to go to the shops but I was tired and preferred to rest so she went alone, after making it clear she was happy to take me anywhere dressed in my non conformist way. I just thanked her for the compliment and said ‘see you later Paul’ emphasizing the Paul. At five o’clock she appeared and shocked me with what she had done, her pony tail was gone, her ears were now visible with hair feathering down in front of the ears and down to her collar and above her eyes. It still could look feminine but with her wearing a shirt and jeans the hair was struggling not be masculine. ‘Do you like it?’ she asked

‘Might take some getting used to, but yes, is it what you wanted?’

‘I hoped for shaper edges, but the stylist did not seem to hear me when I said short back and sides like a man. So I got it like a woman, maybe next time I will try a barber’ and laughed ‘Anyway if you can be different and go for a head of curls I reckoned I could match you with this, any complaints?’

‘Most certainly not, it suits you’

‘Now then my pretty wife, how about I take a rest while you make me something to eat, then we can get ready for going out this evening and see how pretty your latest ideas are’

I just said ‘Yes dear’ and jumped to the task without a thought that in the past Emma would have cooked at the weekend, but the roles as well as the clothes were getting reversed, and I was not objecting at all and my partner seemed to embrace the change more than me, so while I wore the diamond engagement ring my role would be that of the wife, which was fine with me.

It took me ages to get the smoky eyes I was hoping for, and then when I removed the roll neck my hair got messed up and I had to spend time brushing and styling it again. But eventually I dressed in the baggy black trousers I liked and a new top I had found among Emma’s stuff, it was a pink chemise (a vest to me) with a sheer sparkly kaftan to go over the vest, meaning the outline of the chemise was clearly visible. I had seen such things before and had always thought them attractive in an understated sexy way, which suited the style I liked. Emma approved of my choice saying she had bought it but then felt over dressed in it, so it had stayed unworn for a year or so, but on me she said it was perfect. Then before we left I dabbed scent onto my neck and wrists hopefully to help the illusion the clothes was giving.

We had another great night out, we were meeting people we had meet before and were feeling more a part of the community that lives in that area. I loved the big bell sleeves and the floaty body of the top. The bosses new hair was a hit with her lesbian friends and as she spent time chatting with them I chatted with another cross dresser I had meet before who suggested a club that encourages TVs to go, I said we would check it out later. I was unsure if I should be offended at being seen as a TV, I still saw myself as a man who cross dresses. We did go to the club and enjoyed the sight of not being the only cross dresser but I was among many men who could not hide their build very well, and then there were the ones who dressed OTT and looked stunning in a pantomime way, but there was also one or two who left you thinking are they male or female, because if they are male they are excellent looking women. And something inside me said I wanted to be that person that is totally convincing, being mistaken for a woman if possible. It was a dance club and I had many offers to dance, some of which I accepted especially if they were attractive men, some even got to do very close dancing holding me close, I was not sure how Emma would take this development but when she got me alone she was kissing me as though we were in private, either she was making a show of owning me, or she was jealous of the sight of me dancing with men and that had turned her on, whichever I was enjoying the results which came to a fullness when we got home and I could release my man bits from the control pants and enjoy intimacy to the full.

Sunday I had the idea to cross dress and go out around shops to see how I felt about being out in daylight and in full view of the general public and possible humiliation. My hair restyled quite easily, I did my face in a bland style with no bold colours or striking definition, then I went for jeans and a nice sweater with a pair of flat shoes. The outing was no big deal to Emma, she had been doing the shopping for weeks in her masculine style, and the only difference now was her hair and maybe a wearing a black shirt made her look more butch, which was her aim.

I was nervous to start with, but after a few hundred yards and no comment or obvious stares I relaxed and started to enjoy myself walking alongside my partner, looking in windows and talking of what we saw. After a while we stopped for a coffee and reflected on how this outing had gone compared with the last time. That had been good and very new without thinking how badly it could go, or how I had looked fairly Paul like, whereas now I was definitely more Emma than Paul.

Having been out daytime and survived my confidence increased. Over the following weeks my life changed even more, the Saturday evenings in town started to include Friday evening especially if I had the time to get ready. I was always found in nice knickers every day of the week and often in a nice knitted sweater at work, or with a silky chemise under my top. Emma had changed her skirts at work for trousers and a more severe blouse that while not a man’s was not at first glance a feminine style.

Then I had a new experience, I was in a bar early in the evening and waiting to be served, when the barman in an attempt to get my attention, he addressed me as miss, what was important was that this was the first time a stranger had referred to me as female, and the impact was to affect my attitude to cross dressing. I started to think of myself as female dressing as a man for work, I really took note of female mannerisms and the way they used body language, but most of all I stopped thinking of limits that my cross dressing put upon my non feminine days. It began with plucking eye brow hairs not just to neaten things up and stop a monobrow, and with the help of internet sites I taught myself how to redefine my eye brow shape. It was a few from the bottom to begin with, but slowly they thinned until I was satisfied I had a neat line that enhanced my eyes. I also became aware of my fingers and how the nails help make fingers appear longer and more elegant, so I stopped clipping them and filed them, then on a Friday evening I would paint them in some tone that moved them away from a man’s idea of how nails should be, ultimately my nails became neat ovals that were hard to disguise at work. I also had my ears pierced one evening on my way home from work, leaving the shop proud of my new decoration but disappointed that it would be weeks before I could do anything more than clean the studs and make sure they were not infected.

And then it happened, my style became open conversation at work, one Sunday evening we forgot to return our rings and by the time Emma had left and I was on my way to work I thought to remove them and just put them safe in a pocket, but my fingers were tight beneath the rings and without a lot of hassle they were not for coming off, so I compromised and spun the diamond round so it was hidden in the palm of my hand. I doubted people would notice, but Jenny who worked on the next desk did, I overheard her mentioning it to her friend at the water dispenser, along with all the other things they had been noticing, such as the nails, my well cared for hair, the ear studs, the nice sweaters I wore, and lastly a comment about how my eyes sometimes look darker on a Monday and my lips redder. When I had heard enough I coughed and they blushed embarrassed to be caught red handed gossiping, but I asked what they thought of my new style and explained how we had swapped rings but Emma’s had got stuck on my finger. They seemed not to know about my weekend style but agreed my work style was very nice and they had no problem my dress sense, or as they put it, a bit camp. And that released the brakes on my work style, but not before I had got a text from Emma ‘Hi Emma dear, as you still have the two rings on I guess you are still my wife, how about you cook me something nice for when I get home, I have been asked to go for a drink after work with some of the girls’ and those girls I guessed correctly were a couple of friends she had made at the weekend who were extremely butch. But I thought nothing of it; I had done the same in the past and expected her to run around after me.

Now I had accepted that I could dress comfortably for work I bought my first pair of trousers specifically from the ladies section, they were in black denim, a boot leg hipster style, I needed a belt to keep them tight on my hips and control pants to keep the front flat. I wore them everyday for a week after getting them and reveled in there fit and unconformity.

While Emma was being more blokish in her behavior, having drinks after work, expecting me to be the little woman who looked after her, I was getting more feminine in my attitudes, I had found myself looking at a few men and recognizing that they were attractive to women and wondering if they might be attracted to someone like me when dressed up, I also found the joy of high heels and was to be found exclusively on narrow spikes at least 3" high if not higher, I loved the way they altered my posture and way I walked, no longer could I walk like a man, I had to take short steps, swing my hips and never be in a hurry to get anywhere, sometimes they made me feel vulnerable, at others sexy.

And then it happened, I have no idea why it took so long, I had been presenting as female for six months at least once a week, and increasingly camp as the months had passed the rest of the time, I had also been studying fashions and the female look nearly from the beginning. But I was putting away the clean clothes and hanging my silk blouse in now my wardrobe, when I looked along the rail found Emma’s small collection of dresses and skirts and had a good appraisal of my find. One black dress, high neck long sleeves. One long green denim skirt. One very full olive skirt, calf length. One short straight brown mini skirt. And for some reason my mind was set on wearing at least one the following weekend. First I did my research and from stories I had read about cross dressing I had to clear all my body hair for skirts to work, hairy legs were the domain of men.

And so that Saturday when Emma came back with the shopping she found me cleaning in the long denim skirt, it was a terrible nuisance getting in the way all the time, but then cleaning in heels is not normal practice for many women either, I struggled because it reduced me to a wanting to look good over being practical, which a long skirt and certainly are not, but when Emma was able get the full view, hugged me and congratulated me ‘You are more a woman than I ever was, I could never feel right in something like that, but you look fantastic.’ Then she stood back for another look ‘I had been hoping for this day for a while now, for me you have stepped into a place completely opposite from the manly place you started from, and I love what I see and what it means to us’ then she hugged me again, it was then I felt an unexpected bump in the front of her trousers, I ran my pink finger nails down there and reassured myself I had felt correctly and looked in her eyes, ‘Well you go to some length to create a flat front, I am just filling the empty space at the front of my trousers’

Then I had another idea and wondered why it had taken so long to have it, confident of my overall image I told the boss I needed to go out and get something, I grabbed a jacket and shoulder bag and went to the car, the big skirt and high heels meant it would be no quick exit as I teetered to the car then folded all the material under me before shutting the door. Then I could drive away.

Two hours later I returned having been fitted with and purchased my own set of breasts, I was told they were size 34D and I believed her. They sat beneath my sweater jiggling about and pulling on my shoulders through the bra straps, making me smile every time I looked down, if the boss was going to enhance herself in the trouser department, then I would enhance myself in the chest department.

That evening I wore the black dress, 4 " heels, long pendant ear rings, a well made up face and another purchase I had made at the transformer shop, stockings, oh and a smile. This was me going overboard in a big way and knowing I could swim confidently in this most feminine of styles.

I had a great night out that time, I had gone past any notion of neutral dressing, I was, hopefully to all those observing me, female. The breasts weight and heels made me alter my posture and I felt myself walking more upright, more confidently, even strutting. Emma accused me of showing off. I was used to attracting a certain sort of attention from a certain sort of men, but this time I was attracting more attention. Maybe it was that the hem of the dress rode up and showed the stocking tops or maybe I just looked more attractive. As Emma went off chatting with her friends I found it easy to get a drink from lecherous men, then later I was popular on the dance floor, some men being very forward in where they held my body, making it clear what they would like to do later if I wanted to. Emma found all this very amusing and made sure I did not miss out on what they were offering.

It was later at home she let me know what she meant, as I was such a good looking girl we would not be using my man bits, we had had a dildo for years but this time as I used one on her, she pulled my thong to one side, lubricated my only hole in that area and used our thinner vibrator on me. At first it was like being at the toilet, but as she continued she found what she was hoping to find, I had a G spot, my sigh gave away the find, but then after I had begun to feel the sensation increase she came herself and then rather like a man, pulled out and left me wanting some more. There was nothing for it, when I went to get ready for bed I relieved myself when the thong came off.

My weekend dress became purely skirt or dress, and due to Emma having a small supply I had to go shopping for my own, experimenting with many styles, but mainly finding myself liking the longer flowing skirts, knee length for housework and daytime, the shorter ones for nights out.

My work style was drifting more towards the feminine as the weeks passed, Emma had her part in this, but mostly it was my own motivation. My tops had gone from a nice sweater to plain hipster trousers, and then to blouses, the trousers moved away from jeans to more female fabrics and cuts. My underwear started with knickers, then camisoles. This was my own choices, my hair and eye brow shaping was down to me as well, my longer nails was Emma’s idea, she suggested filing only the sides and letting them gain a more elegant shape. She also made my jewelry selection, early on we had swapped wedding rings then at first we accidentally forgot to swap back on Monday, but after a few times Emma just told me she was going to keep the wider man style, allowing me to keep her thinner pair including the diamond. She used this as a way of making the relationship change as well, while I wore the engagement ring she would treat me as a submissive wife and I went along with it and enjoyed the role. She also hid some things over the months, my underwear disappeared into her drawers, my shirts and trousers also went and if she did not like them they went to a charity shop, eventually I lost most of my clothes, that was a slow change, but the one that I consciously noticed was the time I was looking for my plain studs on a weekday, and when I asked if she had seen them she just suggested I wear something pretty, when I reminded her it was a work day, she shrugged her shoulders and stated ‘So what’. I went with some small hoops in knowing my long hair would cover them, but I was wrong and they were noticed, not in a dramatic way, but over time they became another thing on the list of things colleagues would chat about. Other things that changed over time were more to do with Paul’s original clothes becoming worn out or Emma taking them over, so shoes while not heeled or overtly feminine, were bought for work. A more visible change happened after we had an anniversary. It was a year since we had first tried our neutral dressing, I had been wearing dresses for a few months and Emma had become quite butch and wore the heavier wedding ring, so when she suggested going out for a special night to celebrate. She came home a week before with a new suit and I felt it was time to get a new outfit, I bought a spaghetti strap, bias cut red dress and new sandals, but the most important impact was that I had a hair cut. I was not sure what to ask for as I entered the unisex salon. Over the months I had experimented with hair dye changing my colour gradually from mousy to darker brown. The stylist brushed my hair about and held it in positions to give an idea of what she could do, I only wanted to keep the length but beyond that I said she could do whatever she thought would suit me, she also asked if she could lighten the top, in a moment of madness I said yes thinking I can always dye it if I don’t like it. I was really happy when I walked out hours later, apparently I had a permanent soft wave which gave more body, my fringe was now shorter which if uncontrolled would fall well across my face, and the top was lighter but in a nice streak pattern. Emma loved the style and when I was later dressed for our romantic evening I felt totally female, and with Emma in her new suit and a fresh haircut that had by then lost its feathered edges, she had even started wearing glasses with a heavy rim adding to the masculine look.

We went to a straight restaurant and felt totally accepted and not at all a bizarre novelty. Then when we got home she treated me to a lesbian love session, this time giving me an orgasm like I had never had before. Then as we cuddled in the after glow she made me agree that I would never want to penetrate her again only being penetrated myself would give me anything worth having in the future. I was to learn in the morning what this agreement meant, basically she had worked out how to hide my penis, she held ice to my scrotum then pushed the balls inside me, then with surgical tape fastened my penis between my legs. When finished I stood in front of the mirror, all I could see was a patch of pubic hair, ‘No more control pants, just lovely knickers from now on, and it will save us the choice of how we have sex’ she hugged me and gave me a very sexy cuddle, the area restrained still swelled but not visibly.

Monday was the day the impact of the weekend fun kicked in, I had streaks in my hair, if that was not enough the hair over my face would not reach the pony tail, which in itself was much fuller due to the perm stopping it from lying flat at my neck, I could get the fringe behind my ears but they did fall forward a lot. These changes affected the gossip once again in the office, I could not tell if the compliments were genuine or not. The new position for my trouser tackle took some getting used when I walked, or sat down and got in an awkward position. Later in the week I had a very shocking moment, I was answering the phone and the caller referred to me as a Miss, I nearly corrected them but basked in their mistake.

Some weeks later, possibly a couple of months later, I was in the kitchen preparing our evening meal when Emma breezed in, she had told me she would be late as she had some business after work, and from the look on her face I could tell it had gone well. ‘Well are you going to congratulate me’ she beamed

‘Well of course. Well done. What for might I ask?’

‘You may. I have today become the proud owner of Girls Allowed, along with Suzy and Jane. You will be a partner as well if you want. Good isn’t it’

‘I hate to sound defeatist, but what about your job, and Jane is a bit full on, you sure she will be equals?’

‘I got redundancy, so that covers our share, and your wage will cover everything here, and I am equal to Jane when it comes to it, no gay woman will get the better of me’

‘In that case I am happy for you, when do you open?’

‘Two weeks’

And that was how I became part owner of a gay bar, Jane and Suzy were a settled couple, much like me and Emma, Jane was the dominant one but Emma was far more masculine in appearance, and over the following weeks even more so as she directed the redecoration, and ran the cellar. I would help out at weekend along with Suzy who held a similar role to me; Jane was a naturally pretty and girlie woman, within no time our friendship had blossomed. She knew my true gender and while our partners were running their bar at the night, we would spend time together in the evenings as we both had regular jobs. This was a good time for me, she taught me a lot about make up and colours, and over next months she turned me into a far more feminine person, my clothes became more delicate, like my jewelry, and shoes by her definition had to be narrow heeled and sexy. She was also a fellow fan of stockings and introduced me to corsets. Saturdays became a fun day for the pair of us, we would prepare ourselves for our turn in the bar and wore some wonderful clothes, silk and satin were or favoured fabrics, and Jane and Emma’s pleasure

A crisis occurred in my life about six months later, I would go down to the bar after work and at times I would meet up with Suzy and go out. The Suzy evenings in particular were a dressed up time and as a consequence I was presenting far more female traits while at work. The crisis started when I was at work and a colleague asked if I had been wearing make up, if I had not been out with Suzy the night before I would have known my face was clean, but I had and I must have shown my embarrassment, I blushed, she giggled, and I left for the toilets to check in a mirror. But the problem started properly when I went through that door, I was insulted by a man calling me a puff, and told me to use the ladies, already distressed by my embarrassing encounter, I turned and left, just before I did enter the ladies, sense came to me and I stopped myself, this would have been a terrible thing to do, being called queer would be nothing to what a man in the ladies would get called. I hung about the gents until it was empty then went in to check my face.

By the time I had got back to my position in the office there was a lot of activity not connected with work, and the line manager waiting to see me. The next few minutes were a blur, but I was asked to leave, for the sake of getting the office working efficiently, and it would be good if I did not go back. I said you can’t do that, she said she was sure she could find something in my conduct that would give her cause to sack me.

Well I was really upset as you imagine, I got home before Emma had left for the bar, and after calming down and telling her about the incident, she took the whole thing in her hands, contacted a solicitor, and rang work to find out what their side of the story was. She reckoned I should accuse them of wrongful dismissal and get compensation. She went to work later, leaving me to do some housework.

Words that passed between work and Emma meant that I would not be going into work anytime soon. So Emma suggested I work at the bar until I found another job. This was like a release for my female persona, I was able to wear skirts all the time, my nails could be painted with whatever colour I wanted, my pony tail was no longer necessary, but the most fun was wearing the fake breasts as a permanent fixture once I had mastered the adhesive to hold them in place. I made it hard work if I ever wanted to go out as a man, but I did not care I was happier now I could spend time dressing and going out in a pretty dress and heels.

Emma and Jane had developed a style that was best described as builder, heavy boots, jeans, T shirt and of course the short hair. And then as I started working more hours, and Suzy spent more time in the bar, we felt we should have a style when we were working. The bosses only asked it was as girlie as possible. Suzy and myself had a great wine fuelled evening discussing what we would like to do, coming up with many suggestions, Victorian, slutty, whore, French maid, 1950s, schoolgirl, summer holiday, Arabian nights, fetish.

The next day our list had gone and replaced with a note, ‘very interesting’, was all it said. On the phone to Suzy she guessed our ‘men’ would be picking their fantasies out of the list. She was right, Emma and Jane had gone through the list, Victorian was crossed out (skirts too big), slutty and whore more for a certain type of male gay club, summer holiday was not interesting enough, Arabian nights was a maybe, which left french maid, 1950, schoolgirl and fetish. They had also been in touch with a theatre costume outfitters that Jane knew off and had made appointments for us that afternoon, strike while the iron is hot they said.

So dressed in a nice silk blouse and pencil skirt hoping to make a good impression, Suzy was there when I arrived in her empire line dress, also looking very stylish. The manager greeted us and invited us into the rooms filled with racks of costumes, I would have loved to have been allowed to just roam and check out everything, it was like Aladdin’s cave, glorious.

‘We need to find you a costume it seems, Jane has filled me in on what she would like, do you have anything you would not like?’ she was all business and very matter of fact. We explained it was for work and how we wanted to be noticed, ‘No problem with that, I am sure you will be unmissable in what I have in mind for you both. Follow me.’ She lead us to changing rooms and asked us to strip to our underwear, then she supplied corsets that we fastened each other into and clipped our stocking onto, then she gave us the dresses, short black maid dresses with frilly underskirts to make the skirt stand out. With little aprons, white cap and white cuffs fitted, she asked for a look. ‘You would need some black stilettos and your hair pulled back from your faces, yes they look good. Do you like them?’ we explained how we were not sure about our stocking tops showing, but she put that one down, explaining how that was part of the fun of this dress. Next after undressing down to the corset she gave us a choice, one was a knitted top and cardigan with a disc skirt in lemon, the other a dress with a square neck, tight waist and flared satin skirt in pale blue, Suzy went for the dress and with her very real breasts showing at the top looked sexy, I settled for the more modest knitted top, then we were given net underskirts to give the skirts body. Grace pinned the dress so it fitted Suzy better at the waist, and told us we needed seamed stockings, with either white or a matching colour stiletto, she must have a thing for those particular shoes, then explained that hair styles were engineered then, piled up, backcombed and held in place with tons of lacquer, the hair was something women did and slept with in a net, not like today’s relaxed styles. So we accepted that the 1950s was not worth doing for one day, when Grace suggested we do what the 50s women did who visited the salon once a week to have the style reset. Now to us that sounded like fun, a weekly salon visit, but would our respective partners allow such extravagance?

We left loaded up with bags, and our purses lightened. It was getting late and we would be needed in the bar soon so we decided on doing the French maid that evening, we could put our hair up in a clip and the rest was pretty much regular dressing. After collecting a few items from our homes we changed in a private room at the bar, helping each other to lace the corsets up, and zipping the rear fastenings on the dresses, then after a final inspection of each other, we entered the bar to see what the bosses thought of our uniforms for the night. Jane made it obvious Suzy was hot, her hand went onto her partners arse and squeezed it, Emma just pinched mine saying ‘You had better get used to that’

And she was right, it might be a girl only bar but some were just as arrogant as men, and certainly did not hold back on the sexual advances. Come early morning and we were closing up, Emma told us how good we had been at getting extra orders as the takings were up, but Suzy and myself had loved the whole experience of dressing up in costume and enjoying the dresses, we couldn’t wait until the next opportunity. So when the bosses suggested we do it again on the Saturday, the next day, and we said yes. Then over a drink we explained how the 50s look would take more preparation and maintenance, that if we did what Grace had suggested, doing it for a week or more to get the full value from the effort. In their easy mood they agreed that we should maybe do each uniform for a weekend at least, maybe a week if it was suitable. Suzy and I just looked at each other; we had permission to do whatever we wanted, this was going to be girlie heaven.

On Tuesday we meet for a nice long look at 50s images thinking how much fun the week ahead was going to be. Wednesday we had our salon appointment, taking pictures of how we hoped to end up. Suzy had bleached her hair to a shocking blonde, I had my highlights dyed back to the main colour, then the stylists set us into our new styles and we walked out feeling very conspicuous with what felt like was extreme hair. Suzy had a long bob with her fringe curled and flicked to the sides, mine was a beehive, imagine Marge Simpson, backcombed and piled up on top of my head, and the stylist even added some extra foam to help with support, laying my hair smooth over this construction. Of course we both had enough lacquer to hold everything in place very firmly. Maybe they were extreme but we could only smile at each other as we made our way back to the bar so we could get into the rest of the costume. By the late afternoon we were ready for work, corsets on, seamed stockings, our dress and skirts flaring out over the netting, then some make up and period jewelry, and off course 4" stilettos.

Emma and Jane loved the result and agreed the effort really did justify the decision to keep the style till the weekend. The bar did well; customers loved the costumes some even coming in dressed similarly later in the week. On Friday Jane and Emma surprised us by coming in dressed as teddy boys. The hair was hard work, sleeping was hard as mine was uncomfortable, and then the repairs required in the morning caused us to get through a can of spray a day.

We even went back to Grace to get another outfit; one outfit for a full week would not satisfy our desires. We wore our costumes fulltime as it seemed wrong to have 50s hair and current clothes, so we would do everything in our corsets and net underskirts.

After that success we felt a more relaxed hair style should be used, Suzy’s was still blonde and looked fine when washed out, mine took a bit of sorting but on Monday was well conditioned and fine. We had our French maid costumes and we were told by the ‘men’ that the week would be spent being maids, of course no objections from us and come Wednesday we were in costume and serving customers, enjoying the costume and the reactions we got.

The following week we dressed as schoolgirls, not the slutty usual TV image of micro skirt and tight blouse, but we found grey pinafores and white cotton blouses, we put our hair in bunches or plaits, of course we wore make up and heels. Again the customers followed the style at the weekend; Emma found some shorts, grey shirt and school tie to join in the fun. Then it was back to the 50s and the beehive.

Over the months we became well know for our themes and people would be asking what the style would be in the future so they could join in, we were a lesbian bar but the themes created a lot of gender style separation, the more dominate partner more often kept away from copying my style, but would happily encourage their partner to dress up, while they copied Emma or Jane. A few regulars suggested ideas for the future, but we would refuse fetish and bondage because it was done elsewhere, though Emma did get me a dog collar and lead and Suzy admitted to letting Jane use hand cuffs on her, but we still thought it a poor theme for the bar. But one of my greatest buzzes was being lead by Emma with that dog lead, while dressed in the sluttiest outfit possible, for the pride carnival, the statement that I was hers and my position in the relationship was totally in her command, was not lost on me, or on Suzy who was handcuffed to a carnival float while Jane paraded around in a police uniform.

It was I think the third time we did 50s, I had my hair done in a bob and looking well but feeling like a helmet, I was wearing a nice satin pink skirt. Anyway I was ready for work and feeling good when Emma sat me down.

‘Got something for you’ and passed me a packet of tablets.

I read the packet, ‘Are these what I think they are? hormones?’

‘Got them off the internet, hoped you would like them, and I want you to take them’

I read the packet again and thought about what they meant. ‘You want me to never be Paul again; I would have great difficulty dressing as a man if they do what I think you want them to’

‘I don’t need or want you to be Paul again, I love you as Emma, but I also love those fantastic breasts that Suzy is flashing about some weeks.’ I did not know what to say, she continued ‘So you take two a day, here let me get you some water.’ A glass was put in my hand ‘Now you can look forward to real tits’ I swallowed as instructed, she knew I would, but I did wonder how my parents would take me if I could not be a convincing man, well camp man if I really tried to tone things down.

Then she pulled out a second packet, ‘So you are not alone I have got myself some testosterone, I fancy a beard could look nice on me’

I stared at her as she swallowed a pill, ‘you sure about this?’ I asked

‘Double D at least I am hoping for’ she said with a grin.

‘But they can affect your moods these things’ I picked up a packet.

‘Yes I hope so, your going to have to get used to mood swings, feeling vulnerable, being weaker and for me you will look womanly in your appearance when naked. I know you will love it’

I never argued I always did as Emma asked anyway, ‘But what about you?’

‘Apparently I might get a little more assertive, which I know you like, and if it gets out of hand the emotions, that is, we can reduce the dose till we get used to it.’

‘Should I say thank you?’

‘You will in three months when you get rid of the artificial tits and let me fondle your real nipples nestling inside some sexy satin bra. That is if you can handle the maximum dose they are suggesting’

I looked at Emma and imagined her with a hairy face, then thought what real breasts would be like when they bounced around in the bra she was suggesting, or as I imagined the nipple being nibbled by Emma in a most arousing manner. I then agreed ‘Off course I want a hairy husband just as much as you and I want a pronounced pair of tits on this chest. Look good on top of the corset too, I guess’ I added a smile with that thought. But I was still concerned how my father would take the news that his son had become a daughter, but with the bar being so time consuming I had not visited in months only making calls to keep up with each other, so the truth was not really being conveyed well.

Within a week I felt my skin get sensitive and I had felt a little weepy one day, Emma however, well she was used to bossing me around, but it had been in fun or so I thought, now there was an edge to her instructions, less of the ‘would you’ more of a ‘you will’ attitude, and come love making she was so dominant. It was a french maid week and while I was in the cellar sorting the empty bottles, she came up behind me, grabbed my bare arse (thong) and informed she was feeling randy and me strutting around dressed like I was just meant one thing, she was going to take me. There was a handy table that she laid me across, and then proceeded to fuck my arse until she came. ‘My god that was good’ was all she said before going back to the bar. Leaving me feeling a little shocked at the treatment I had just received, but in some unexpected way loving the way she had just dominated me so completely. I was totally hers now, and I was happy to please her and make her happy. Even so I hoped it would not happen to often.

Emma certainly did become more assertive to the point where Jane and her had a big row. Then when they had cooled down, Emma realized that maybe she should reduce her hormone intake. A few days later she was back to an acceptable level of assertiveness, not the aggressive nature we had seen earlier. I however was not going to be reducing, I had a terrible day about three weeks in, I went home to get my emotions back together, which seemed to work, but a few days later I was home again after crying floods of tears when Jane told me I had made a mistake with a customers change. At four weeks I wanted to reduce my intake, but my chest had big brown nipples and rising mounds beneath them that Emma loved playing with, so I was told in no uncertain terms, I keep to the dose and if I could not work then I would have to stay at home until such time as I could handle my emotions.

My life was now a roller coaster of emotions, Emma would be nice to me and I was high, then something went wrong and I plunged into hopelessness, all the while wanting to please Emma who had become my focus. We were both happy the way my physical shape was changing, maybe because I had been wearing a corset so much, but my waist had reduced and besides my breasts inflating to a B cup by seven weeks and my bum and thighs had filled out. I no longer used the silicones and I was buying underwear weekly to keep up with my expanding shape.

By week ten I was getting used to my turbulent emotions and had bought C cup bras to handle the recent increase, I was even able to work not just visit the bar and feel sorry for Suzy who was having to work even harder to cover for my ineffectiveness, but she said she understood and puberty is hard for any girl.

Week eleven was a 50s week and I felt up to doing a full week so accompanied Suzy to the salon for our styling session, Suzy was going for a rock and roller chick with a rolled scarf holding her hair back and tied in the nape of her neck. I said something special to the stylist, she asked if she could try anything, to which in a moment of madness I agreed to. Compared to Suzy’s easy style, I was in there for ages. I came out with a proper perm, tight clearly unnatural kiss curls were secure around my face, the rest of my hair though straight seemed to rise from behind my fringe a good inch or two before falling to a very precise under curl between my shoulders, my ears were on full display as the hair flowed behind them and curled behind, ready for some fantastic ear rings. The whole thing was rock hard with loads of spray holding everything in place, next I had an appointment with Grace for a new outfit, this time I arrived in my corset and when I stripped showed a good 36 — 24 — 34 figure, she actually asked if I had tried getting my waist smaller, I told her 24" seemed good, so she brought me a skirt which unlike the previous flared styles was what I at first thought was a pencil skirt, but when I looked closer it actually tapered in from the hips being visibly narrower at the hem, several inches below my knees, thank goodness for the rear slit. When I tried to fasten the zip I caught a smile off Grace, who offered to help me create the right waist for the skirt, explaining how the skirt looks best when it really comes out over the hips then nips into a tight waist. She pulled my laces down to 22" and this allowed the skirt to close. Then with a satin blouse that had darts emphasizing my swelling chest and a neat jacket that had an equally tight waist, Grace declared me a 50s film star.

My reception at the bar was brilliant, I had undone a few buttons so I was flashing some cleavage, and with such a tight skirt all I could do was mince into the bar and say ‘Hello darlings’ Jane saw me first, and asked if it was me, I confirmed I was me, to which she said ‘Fuck me’ I replied ‘If you want, but I would rather it was me getting fucked’ she laughed and looked at me in a funny sort of way that made me think that maybe she did fancy having me in some way. Before my thoughts went to far Emma appeared and let out a whistle, ‘Now that is what I call sexy, all those curves, sex on two pins, fantastic’ then turning to Jane ‘Mind looking after the bar for a little while, I want to show my wife something’ Jane winked and Emma took my hand, then as I passed her she slapped my arse. I knew what was coming. She had me undress so the clothes did not get spoilt and she could admire me as I strutted around the room in corset, stockings and stilettos, then she gave me such a fucking I came so loudly that a few days later Suzy explained that the whole bar fell silent listening to my moans, and then when Emma went back into the bar she was clapped by some customers, she calmly stating that it had to be done if I was going to walk around looking like I did.

I did not wear the straight skirt all the time, but when I wanted to feel that sensual skirt and blouse arousing me, especially now I could go without a bra and feel the satin on my nipples, there was only one thing to do, wear it and run the risk of being fucked by Emma once more.

Week twenty after starting on the pills and I had reached Emma’s goal, I was a DD, most tops strained to cover my new shape, and with a corset pushing them up I had a very prominent bust, every bit as good as Suzy’s. Emma loved it when I bought my first DD bra, red satin push up worn under a sheer red blouse was more than her frustrations could take, I was back in the bedroom with my mini skirt pushed up past my waist and feeling her pushing inside me once more. I also learnt that if I wore such clothes I could get Emma to agree to almost anything, her mind was so distracted by what her hormones were telling her she should be doing. I started by asking for some money to get a new top, one she would like I emphasized, and once she had spent herself on me I casually took some money from her wallet and promised to be naughty. I was not alone I discovered, Suzy could do the same with Jane, maybe we act submissive but we have our ways of evening things out it appeared.

Life between my legs became easier as well, the hormones left me with a rather small flaccid piece of skin that had only one use, peeing, so I stopped using the tape and even when it stiffened no one noticed so I was now a proper busty woman able to wear the most provocative clothes showing off my cleavage and cute arse. It was like a new lease of life to me, I still loved the 50s stuff, tight lined skirts being my number one choice, but the flared skirts still looked good if not as a sensual. But I had found the delights having a real cleavage, and the tops that allowed me to wear seemed endless, the ones that clearly exposed skin, but there were the nearly transparent blouses giving the bra a viewing, and well fitted tops which hugged the shape of my chest leaving no room for imagination, I had a big pair and loved people seeing them.

At the bar I would not be to in your face with it though, keeping with the themed costumes, but it was hard to hide my big chest which meet with approval from the butch dykes such as Jane. One Sunday after we had closed and having a wind down drink, Jane was asking how big I was, so I told her, she doubted I was right as she thought her Suzy was bigger, I assured her of my cup size, but she assured me like everything else size varies between manufacturers. I cannot recall the full debate but me and Suzy ended up topless so Emma and Jane could compare tits and see who had the biggest. But it turned into something else as we first posed then lifted them up with our hands, then asked to compare each other’s, then Jane used her hands to compare them, but as she cupped mine the nipple which had been aroused by Suzy’s touches decided now was the time to show itself. ‘I think she is liking this’ Jane said to Emma.

‘Great assets and really sensitive’ Emma replied.

‘Go and let Paul check yours out’ Jane said to Suzy. (Remember we swapped names as well a rings way back, only I refer to Emma as Emma, everyone else calls her Paul and me Emma)

Suzy did as she was told and went over to Emma who fondled our friend’s chest. ‘Hard to say which is best’ Emma said. ‘Tell you what, blindfold us and then we can have a purely feeling try’

We complied with their wishes, and as they sat before us we let them fondle our tits. Then Suzy rubbed a nipple across Jane’s lips who reacted with her tongue, ‘Very nice, now the other one so I can compare please, and do the same to Paul can’t have him missing out’

So I let Jane kiss me while Emma kissed Suzy, then we swapped back, I looked at my near naked friend she was really enjoying this and whispered ‘I am so wet, if they don’t do something soon I will let you get me there’

‘Now that I want to see’ insisted Jane who overheard the whisper.

I looked at Emma, ‘You used to be quite good with your tongue down there as I remember, shame to let Suzy get her knickers too wet’ we had always been faithful, but here I was being told to have sex with a friend by my partner, while they watched.

Suzy was wet and very excited, so a few licks and she started to tense and moan. When we had finished I got up and wiped my face. They had both enjoyed the short show and as Jane turned to Emma I had an idea that things might turn far more pornographic. ‘Mine seems happy, but yours must be keen by now’ Jane said.

‘She’s always keen, you should know that, makes me have sex all the time. Not seen any action today though’ Emma was smiling.

‘Poor thing, better help her out of her misery then’ Jane too was grinning while they talked about me as if I was not there, like I was something Emma looked after, a possession.

‘Be my guest, I know you fancy her and want to find out how her non standard hole is, so go on get your prick in her and make her scream.’ I was still looking at Emma, partly in shock, partly in anticipation; she had just given permission for Jane to have sex with me while she would watch.

‘You can have mine if you want, no point you missing out’

We were both possessions to be shared it seemed. There was a moment when I wondered if it was all bravado, but then Jane took my hand and pulled me towards her. There was not much foreplay, and Emma was giving instruction on how to get the best position, then I came and as instructed, I screamed. Jane came too a few strokes after.

‘Come on Suzy, the poor guy is the only one left, give him a good screw why don’t you’

Now it was our turn to watch as Emma fucked our friend. It was quite a show as I lay in Jane’s arms leaning against a wall.

Exhausted we all relaxed on the floor. ‘Go and get us a drink Emma’ Jane instructed, without a thought I got up and walked into the bar for a set of drinks. I walked back in with a tray and nothing else on. ‘Shame we cant have you serve the customers like that, but our pleasure is their lose’

We drank up and got dressed finally we went home and slept in on the Monday morning, after a late breakfast the topic of last night came up. With questions like, ‘What is it like with another person?’ did you like it? And statements like, you were sexy, you looked like you were enjoying yourself, I reckon Jane would like to have you again. Emma was not discussing this with me, she was assessing how her asset had faired in the situation, and from where I was she had just found another a new avenue of fun for us, as usual I would do as I was told, and to be honest if Jane wanted me again I was not going to kick up a fuss, she had been a good fuck, as they say.

We did not meet up all four of us until Wednesday, and it being a maid week we were in the short dresses which allowed the bosses to be rather free with their hands on our bare arses, they did not care whose they fondled, it could be either of them feeling me up. But it was Thursday when I really appreciated my position in the relationship, Jane and Emma over a drink had been reliving the weekend fun and obviously entertained the idea of trying something similar. Because when they came back to the bar, Emma just told me in a matter of fact tone that Jane was taking me home with her, and I would please her. I asked what about Suzy? The reply was simple, she would be sleeping with her that night. We had not been asked, just told, they fancied a change and that was all that mattered.

I caught up with Suzy later and asked if she had heard the arrangement, she had and seemed ok with it, I tried to say something about Jane being with me and did that not feel wrong, she just told me to make sure I made her a coffee before she got up, and to let her go on top for sex. She had accepted her submission without question, I had also but did not want to upset my friend.

It was the only time our partners exchanged their women, I think it was their way of proving their domination over us, and maybe just a little bit of fun along the way.

Now I was completely under Emma’s authority she decided that it was time to come out to our parents properly. As if I had a choice she visited her mother dressed in casual androgynous clothes, where she told her that she was gay and that Paul (me) had gone for another woman, so they would not be seeing Paul again, but she did have a new friend, Emma. Her mother, she told me took it well, she accepted the gay thing and thought it funny that her new friend was called Emma just like her. Very funny I said.

My parents were in for a bigger shock, we drove out and Emma went in to have a word first, explain how I had changed while I waited in the car. I had dressed conservatively, plain brown skirt, cream cotton blouse, hair down and light make up, no need to let them know how racy Emma really liked me to dress. Well after what seemed like ages my mother came out to the car wearing her gardening stuff, corduroy trousers and a sweater, my father’s I soon found out. She told me to come into the house as we needed to talk, then I saw my father, he was preparing a meal and to do so he was wearing an apron, but not a plain cotton or one of those humorous vinyl ones, no he was wearing a full on frilly pinafore style apron with frills on it and a big bow at the back.

We did indeed need a chat, I was a little shocked to find out how similar their relationship was to ours, mother had always been the one whose word went, but it seemed since they retired mother was spending more time in the garden and father had become a good cook, so for those tasks they used the clothes they had, albeit the wrong gender, but mother said father looked cute in his apron, and maybe he could follow my example and try something more daring. She was wearing his clothes all day and going to the shops in them like Emma used to, I doubted they would repeat our experiences but father when he had me alone did ask how it felt to dress in skirts, I told him they can be very sensual and stimulating, then he asked how did the bust feel, heavy but lovely was my answer. He concluded I was happier a girl than the boy I was born and I agreed I was one happy girl. And him I asked, oh he was just being practical, he said, but from the glint in his eye and the way he looked at my legs and bust I knew he was lying.