A common theme, drunken dare turns into something more!
Thanks go to Tiffany for checking through. So don't blame me for the mistakes :)

It was funny how it started. We often had a meal together the six of us, that is three couples, each couple brought a sweet or starter and the host cooked the main. We usually drank plenty of wine and generally had a good time. What was funny about this meal last summer was not funny at the time. Our friends Mark and Kath had brought the sweet and to be honest it was inedible, well it would be if you put salt instead of icing sugar into anything that is meant to be sweet to taste, well Mark went off on one and Kath got upset, the whole evening looked like it was going down the pan, that was until Sara my wife defused the situation by offering a daft solution. That solution was meant to get Mark off his high horse but did a little more than that in the end. What Sara proposed was for the men to cook the next meal, it was our turn to host, so I would cook the main, Mark would make the starter and John the sweet. There was a general agreement to this especially from the women, that was until Kath (still smarting from Marks tirade) suggested that just cooking was not enough, they should be required to make themselves look attractive as well. By the end of the discussion the women had decided that in a months time we would have another get together, and the whole evening would be a turnabout night, essentially the men would cook and dress as the women had that night and the women would do what ever us men had done. We joined in with the idea because we were drunk, the idea sounded like fun and we, that is the men, thought it would all be forgotten in the morning.

How wrong was I. The morning was a slow tidy up and read of the Sunday paper followed by a walk in the park. It was here that Sara recounted the evening before, first with 'What are you going to cook for us?' then after some thought based around a pasta meal that I could reasonably produce came the bombshell 'What are you going to wear? I'm going to wear your tuxedo' To say I looked at her in stunned silence would be no exageration 'Well we are about the same size' seemed to be the final word on the subject. At our next get together Sara was going to wear my suit and I would be wearing something of hers. Now here I should explain we used to be in an amateur dramatic society and were used to dressing up and playing different roles, but we had never played each other as it were.

The rest of the walk was quiet as I tried to work out how this could be undone or at least minimised, but by the evening the girls had been talking and it was, as far as they were concerned a done deal, it was going to happen, and when I meet Mark in the pub later had to agree we were rather well stitched up. There seemed no way out without big trouble and managed to talk ourselves into believing it would be fun.

Again how wrong was I. Sara decided that at least I was going to do this turnabout thing properly, even if the others did not. She began by pointing out how Mark was six foot, John was a broad rugby player, whereas I was a five foot six bloke who has trouble finding trousers with a small enough waist to fit me, so I at least could look like a feminine female even if the other two ended up looking like men in drag. I tried to dispute her statement by explaining how my body shape was wrong, simple to alter with padding. My hair was too short, she had a wig. I don't know the first thing about her clothes besides how to get them off her, she laughed at that and then told me it was time I learnt. She thought the first thing I should learn was how to walk in heels and took me to the second bedroom we used as a dressing room. She picked out a mint green chiffon dress which she had worn to the christmas does the year before and made it clear if she was wearing a tux, then I should compliment her. I had to agree with the logic but could not help thinking the logic was flawed. Her cream shoes were too small for me so I hoped that was an end to the idea, 'Don't worry, I will sort that tomorrow while you are at work'

I came home the next day to see a pair of cream shoes waiting for me where my slippers should have been. 'Do you like them?' there was a pause as I tried to think of an answer, but before I got there she chipped in with 'Well put them on let me see if they fit' I sat by the front door and took my shoes off, then my socks once I realised they were too bulky, then slid my feet into the ladies style shoe. Sara came to meet me 'How do they feel'
'Snug' meaning a little tight.
'That's how they should be, they wont slip off........ good. Now try standing'
I stood up and had to hold on the chair while I found my balance.
'Now you see why you can't just put heels on a hope to do them justice, you need practice. Come through and help me set the table and serve dinner'
I followed rather cautiously not wishing to fall and hurt myself, then with cutlery in hand I managed to get around the table and set our places. It was a relief when I did not have to carry hot plates while wearing the shoes. She teased me into keeping the heels on all evening, and much to my surprise did get better at walking in them. I soon found out that any evening when I came home straight from work she felt it would be good for me to wear the heels for good practice. What changed over the week was that she began to give me tips on how to walk. 'Imagine there is a line, and put one foot infront of the other' or 'Heel then toe' and 'Stand with your feet heel towards the instep'. It was not just advice there were plenty of compliments as I improved, which helped boost my flagging ego.

My femininsing took little steps every day it seemed to me. If I was home for about six then Sara would want to try something new on me, or at least practice what I had learnt the day before. So after a week of walking in heels, I then spent a week of free evenings wearing a skirt so I got used to wearing something other than trousers and became familiar with the - what I felt was excessive material. I am sure she picked the largest, longest most floaty skirt she had for me to try on. Again I surprised myself and was soon sweeping it under my legs as I sat down, smoothing it out as I sat, and making sure it was straight when I stood up. She even had me admit that it moved better when I wore heels than when I was barefoot.

That weekend I practiced making the pasta meal. I had to admit that it was very nice and Sara even flattered my cooking suggesting I do it again on the Sunday. Only that time I was to do it wearing the skirt, heels and a blouse, then when I started she added an apron so I did not splash anything on her clothes. I coped quite well with the added hieght and clothes which were not as practical as my own. But the meal was possibly nicer the second time round as I adjusted the herbs to taste.

My next week was to include the wig, a shoulder length 'Jennifer Anistone' I was told, what I did find was that whenever I lent forward the hair would hang infront of me, I only put it in my food once, but it seemed to be in my mouth countless times and in my eyes on numerous occasions. Sara showed me how she dealt with the hair in a ladylike fashion, then encouraged me to follow her example. Mid week she changed the skirt to a mini which presented new problems of how to keep things looking decent and I learnt the art of crossing my legs and pulling the hem lower when I stood up. The mini did cause me to ask why, when the green dress was knee length. So I am familiar with as much about being feminine as possible, which I found out that night was to sleep in a silk nightie, while she slept in my cotton T shirt and boxers. I told her she looked very sexy, she said I was more alluring than sexy but managed to get me to stay in it for the night after we had spent our last energy doing bedroom gymnastics.

The last week came and when I got home early, it was straight to the bedroom, change completely, skirt, blouse, underwear including stockings 'might as well have you sexy' she said, wig and as the week progressed, nail manicures, some eyebrow neatening up and to my deminishing male ego anther big step, complete depilation except for my curly bits which I shaved into a neat V. Then before bed a routine of creams to help make my skin softer and better hydrated, whatever that meant.

On the Friday night we had a full practice dressing up, Sara put on my tux and gelled her short hair back into a dramatic male style. Then it was my turn, underwear, the chiffon dress with it's acres of soft fabric flaring out from my hips, the soft round neck hiding nothing of the extra large chest I now had thanks to a padded bra and the long loose puff sleeves with there long cuffs made me feel even more odd. Sara then put a towel round my neck and proceeded to apply all sorts of cosmetics to my face until she was satisfied with my pink lips, cream and brown eyes, all adding to the base of foundation and blusher.

I had got almost used to seeing myself in some form of femininsing attire, but to see the whole thing was more shocking than seeing Sara for the first time in my tuxedo, she looked strangely masterful and handsome, whereas I just looked like a very well turned out woman. Sara said I was pretty, but one thing was for sure, I was not looking at all manly and after all those evenings spent practicing, I even moved and stood like a woman once I put the heels on. There had been a stew slowly cooking in the oven while we had transformed ourselves, and all that was left was to set the table and eat our meal, Sara encouraging me to take the female role and set the table and serve her while she opened a bottle of wine. Later on after we had finished the wine, and I had been shown how to clean myself up before going to bed, Sara once more in my bedclothes made love to me saying the whole turnabout thing was quite a buzz.

The Saturday of the gathering was an unusual day. Sara insisted I had to do all the food preparation on my own and I had to do it in my feminine style. She left me a plain biege dress out for me to wear during the day but first I had to go through a list of what she called 'getting me in the mood' things. A bath with scented oils after I had shaved my body just incase any hair had been missed the last time. Then I washed and dried my wig while still on my head which took ages. This was the first time I tried to do my own make up and it was not too bad, but Sara did take me for a touch up when I appeared very late in the morning. It was also the first time I wore a pair of control pants to squash my little man out of sight as the dress was rather too well fitted for a male bump to be showing. Last thing I slid my feet into my heels and presented myself before her. She said she was pleased with how I looked but before I could go and make her lunch I needed a few touches to my make up and as a 'treat' she glued false nails over my own then painted them a pink that would match my lips later on.

How I did not feed her some part of the false nails in her lunch I shall never know, they were so disorientating, but with care I made lunch and settled down for a bit of a rest. Sara had other ideas reminding me that she usually does the washing on a Saturday and gives the kitchen a good clean, for her part, she was dressed in jeans and a loose jumper of mine and told me she was going to try and understand how an afternoon spent watching football could be fun.

I did the washing, then cleaned the kitchen and after a short rest prepared the ingredients for the main I was cooking. About six I reckoned I should go and get changed into the green chiffon dress that was to be my evening outfit. I had to fall back on a phrase Sara had used in the past 'Darling, could you come a give me a hand' I found it impossible to pull the zip up fully and the small cuff buttons were so hard with my long nails I had to ask her to help me get dressed. but she approved of my make up, a little more blusher, bolder more defined eyes and creamier lipstick. She offered me her pearls, a single strand for my neck, long drop clip on ear rings and a bracelet to match, then her watch and a spray of scent. It felt wierd when I was told I looked beautiful.

I watched as she got dressed in my clothes,amazed at how her chest disappeared in a sports bra and her trousers bulged as she fixed a pair of rolled up socks behind the fly. We chatted about how we were going to play this charade and came up with the idea to ham it up, she would be as sexist and overbearing as possible, I would be the dutiful little housewife, she would welcome them at the door, I would take their coats and offer them drinks and get on with the cooking while she just stood around chatting. When I said that was nothing like our normal roles she said it would be better to go over the top and make our characters almost cartoon like. I agreed but felt I was getting the harder part of the deal.

Mark and Kath came first, Kath in a very nice lounge suit I later found out she had hired, Mark was wearing a trouser suit Kath had bought for him from a charity shop, the suit was a nice grey, but he was so tall it fitted badly and he looked ever so uncomfortable. John and Mia turned up last, Mia in a sport jacket and plain trousers her long hair tucked inside a cap, but John was so broad he looked like a comedians send up of a woman, again his dress was nice but on him looked wrong. I could not help thinking that I was the only bloke amongst us who looked like a half decent woman. As the evening went on, the wine and beer was drunk, I became the focus of discussion, it was noted that I was a good cook, as were Mark and John I pointed out, no they weren't, they had bought theirs and just put it on plates to carry over. I was the only one wearing heels, well the other two had such big feet, it was still noted how well I walked in heels, and all the fussing over my dress, and the long nails. It all added up to make me look like I had been too keen on this turnabout theme. Sara was also seperated out for special consideration as she was the best dressed man there and was asked why she was being so sexist and domineering towards me, she defended herself saying it was for effect, then turned to me and asked 'Do you have a problem being my little wifey. Darling?'
Almost automatically I replied 'No dear, does anyone want any more wine?' playing the host just as I had been doing all evening. Then as I went round the table with the bottle Sara stroked my stockinged leg.
'The perfect wife, can cook and looks fantastic, what do you reckon boys?' then gave me arse a slap as I moved away blushing. The other women were looking at each other and distanced themselves in some way that did not involve actual movement but was clear to all that they were not agreeing with Sara. I continued to play the female host but Sara calmed the domineering husband down and we ended up having a great time even sending me up when I did something overtly feminine like smoothing the dress under me as I sat down.

The evening came to an end and for some reason I never did fathom I found myself sat at the dressing table cleaning off my make up, wearing a long silk nightie and wrap, just like I had on previous nights when I had worn make up and Sara suggested I would feel more in character dressed that way. It seemed Sara was only to happy with this last moment of role reversal as she made it clear I was still her little wife and as such would satisfy her needs. Which to be honest was not a problem.

The morning was quite dull. I reverted back to being a man and helped Sara clear up the house after the guests. Then I read the paper and went for a walk. Life had returned to normal.

How wrong was I. Later in that week I was having a drink after a gym session with John, he rather awkwardly and almost in a whisper asked if, me and Sara would be up for a bit of hosting at a dinner party they were involved in. I remember looking at him with what he later described as an odd expression on my face, I could only think of all the many ways the word why could be incorporated into my thoughts. So I asked him why and for more information. Turns out him and Mia have organised a party for the end of some project at his work, they are doing it at their house, the food is organised, but they were going to do the hosting themselves, but after seeing Sara and myself doing such an excellent job wondered if we would care to do it for them, and get paid off course. I said yes without thinking much more about it, then he added that I might not have understood what he was asking for, they wanted us to be turnabout butler/waitress for the event, not as our regular selves, add a bit of novelty and variety to the event. Now that put a different light on the situation and made me put a condition on my answer 'I shall have to ask Sara and check our diary' how fast can I back pedal is what I was really thinking.

Later on when I saw Sara, Mia had rung her and asked her the same question, would we be up for doing a bit of cross dressing as a bit of fun for their guests. We then spent quite a while trying to work out what the other was thinking, and in my case, what I was thinking. Should we do the dressing up again, was it fun, was it too much effort, were just a few to get us started. We left it on a maybe, but we had both agreed that we had enjoyed hamming it up as the opposite sex. The point at which we said yes was when John rang me and told me the budget would cover our expenses for hiring something suitable and several hundred for doing it.

We had about 10 days to organise ourselves and to start with we went to a formal outfit hire shop, and once they had realised that it was Sara who needed to tails and me who needed the smart frock they soon got us fitted out. Sara was soon sorted as she just picked a style, got measured, got changed and was seen to be decent. I had far more options, I had taken a bra and was wearing my control pants so as the dress what ever the cut would fit as well as it ever would. We were shown several dresses, the requirement was to be black or dark, not too dressy I was not a guest so I should look like staff in some way. The chioce was not great as they really did dressy and after a while could feel myself wanting to see what a long gown might look like on me, but I was given plain black dresses to try on. The one we chose was a fairly understated dress, a shirt collar, wide belt, some net underskirting to make the skirt part flare out a little, but not in a big way, sheer sleeves with wing cuffs. I then needed to get some black shoes to go with the dress, stockings and underwear. Black underwear was easy to find, but we could not decide on stockings or tights and what colour, in the end we bought fine black denier seamed stockings which seemed to go with the stileto shoes we bought. Sara bought a pair of black brogues to complete her outfit which was much easier.

We had a try on session the day after with both of us going through our own transformations. I could not get over how different the black dress was to the green one, with the skirt flaring out a little, my hands felt the fabric all the time. Other things to get the hang of were the narrow heels which I swear were higher than the cream ones, and having to get seamed stockings straight is such a faf. It took a good hour to get both of us dressed, so we sat down to have a coffee while thinking 'what next'. I was not so confident in the new shoes, so we decided to stay in our roles, change our outerwear but I needed more time in the heels to get used to them and we had time to get reaquianted with our roles. Sara lent me her little black dress that barely covered the stockings and required constant monitoring, while Sara took jeans and a shirt to relax in. I did not get that much time for relaxing, Sara thought it would be good if I practiced carrying a tray of drinks, and when I had had enough of that suggested I set the table for ten, then clear it trying to look professional and not carrying one plate at a time. This was harder and took more skill to balance the plates on my arm, all the while feeling my ankles and calves fighting for control over the narrow heels that my shoes had.

That Sunday was not so bad, but I did wear the heels about the house so I could get my legs used to the more difficult footwear, besides that I was just a normal bloke. That was until Saturday. We ran a few errands that had to be done first thing, then I was sent off to get myself into the role, scented bath, hair removal, wearing my practice blouse and skirt along with everything else for the afternoon so I got to do the feminine gestures that go with the clothes. Sara told me I looked great and started to get a little bossy as she told me it was my job to polish her shoes and give her suit a brush over to removed the fluff. When I queried this instruction she informed me that a butler is more senior to any staff in a household. I gave up, bobbed a neat curtsey picking up the hem as I went down and asked if there would be anything else. Fortunately she took this in the manner it was meant, a tease, on reflection she could have taken it as a submissive act and followed it with more demanding behaviour.

We rolled up at John and Mia's house in good time, the cook was well into her work and we just had to get ourselves used to where things were and what they expected us to do. Mia in a rather too girly way told me I looked great, but I was nothing next to her in a blue patterned maxi dress, her hair all done and looking like she had just come from the hairdresser's. Sara was to welcome people at the door, I took their coats, then later I would circulate with drinks. Sara would be a master of cermeony calling people to sit, then we both served with the help of the cook who plated everything up. It was me who cleared away and Sara who asked various people to stand and make speeches. From the sounds of that last bit it sounded quite straight forward, the twist being that I was in a dress which in itself caused me to become quite a talking point as well as being chatted too when I was supposed to be working, I noticed Sara having similiar problems at times. Most people wanted to know why we were doing it, for fun was the best answer, some women asked about the dress, some men commented on the stockings and shoes, bemoaning the fact that their partners never wore anything so sexy. A couple did ask if we did this sort of stuff as a lifestyle chioce, my answer which I thought quick witted at the time was, not been doing it long enough to know but will let you know if I end up in a salon having my hair done.

We went home as we had arrived, in our outfits, Sara had my long coat on and I borrowed Sara's 3/4 length. In the quietness of the night I could hear my heels tip tapping so clearly on the pavement I found myself listening to the rhythym and enjoying the experience of the cool breeze on my legs and the affected way the heels made me walk. So when we got home after the short walk and I started to undress and clean myself up it was easy to pull the silk wrap around me, but no nightie. That was until Sara noticed I was getting into bed withouut it and asked me to put it on. Easy short hand for I want to make love, and we did.

It was as I lay next to Sara the following morning wrapped in my silk nightie that she quietly whispered in my ear 'that was fun last night' I replied with a dopey huh. 'and you do quite like this dressing up malarky' again huhhuh was my reply 'good, because I was asked if we would do the same thing in a months time'. That got me awake pretty sharp.
'You did what?'
'I told them we would be happy to host a party, just ten of them, so we do the catering as well'
'what ?' I was completely lost for words.
'well you look good, you enjoy yourself, we can make some extra cash, what are you getting so upset about. Is it that I took the man's role and spoke for the both of us'
'pardon?'
'You heard me, I was the man last night, they talked to me and not you, if that felt bad, get used to it, this is a man's world and you will need to learn that when you are in a dress my dear'
'Do I get any say in this?'
'Well only in that you get some say in what you wear, as long as it is pretty and feminine' she smiled at me then gave me a lovely kiss. I was stiil not sure how serious she was about her being the man.

After some time to let the shock subside I talked with Sara about the event more fully, we would get paid well and it would be hard work but not that challenging, we had done it twice and been successful at being a pair of cross dressing role reversal people, so why not do it again.

Well twelve months have passed and we have had our first repeat booking after doing quite a few parties, the theme this time was a sultan and one of his harem. It was pretty much the same as before but in different clothes, what has changed is that we now keep ourselves sort of ready for the next booking. I spend time every day rubbing lotions into my skin to keep it soft, I had my ears pierced six months ago so I could stop using the clip on earrings, my hands are well moisturised and the nails well manicured to a length that is just on the edge of what a man might have. I am clean shaved all over all the time and have a weekly appiontment to reduce facial hair, close shaves are such hard work on the skin. My hair is getting to a point where I might consider ditching the wig but I have not really got up the nerve to give up my man cut yet in favour of a more feminine style. Sara on the other hand has started to go to the gym to build up her muscles, in the summer she had a short hair style and has kept in short with her ears showing. She still likes to be feminine at times and she can look really good, but most of the time she looks about as feminine as I look masculine, we possibly meet somewhere in the middle, then when we have a booking go off into the extreme of the oopposite gender. Quite a lot of fun really.

Well that was a busy twelve months and can you believe two years since I first wore a dress. The party hosting was a big success and we have been getting 2 maybe three bookings a month, more around christmas when the parties really came into their own. We have also done a few stage appearances doing things like karaoke or presenting shows even a fashion show once. I have been asked if I would like to do a panto next winter, I said maybe to that. My regular job was getting too much, what with the time it took to do a turnabout event, and the money was not that good anyway, so I earn as much from just mucking about now. Sara still works and has got to be a manager now which means she is getting paid to be bossy instead of pretending to with me.

It might seem strange to the outside world but we still see ourselves as man and wife, I still identify as a man, Sara still sees herself as a woman, but to the outside world we are hard to read quite alot of the time. I was doing tele sales so my appearance should not have mattered but just before I left, it was obvious I had been doing things which affected how I looked, everyone knew about our turnabout events but the ear studs first, then my beard thinned until it disappeared, my nails gradually went from just neat to rather long for a bloke over time, but I think it was possibly my thin eyebrows or maybe my longer well groomed hair which made it clear I was looking more girl than boy.

It was after I left and had my final pay check that I felt I might as well take the plunge and have my hair styled properly. I booked at Sara's salon who knew all about us so were not thrown by me making an appointment. For effect though I did turn up with light make up, a cream silk blouse and black trousers on, I felt I could be taken for either sex with my hair in a pony tail. That was until I left later on with a shoulder tickling bob which had been streaked in silver, gold and blonde making a big statement about how people would take me in the future. The fringe needed gel to keep it from falling in my face, but besides that it was an easy style to maintain and could be hidden if a more outrageous wig was needed for a particular event, or wrapped up into a hat if I needed to be masculine looking.

We moved house a few months ago and we are not sure what the neighbours make of us, they see Sara going off to work in a dark suit and short hair, then they see me about the house in the day, with my bob cut hair, long nails and to be honest rather feminine chioce in clothes, I do wear jeans but I have grown to like women's blouses because the fabrics are so much nicer than any shirt I have ever worn, and if we are going out to an event we go dressed ready for the customer, even if we are to wear something out of the ordinary I shall wear a dress just so I am prepared in myself for being the woman in the team.

Sara was teasing me the other night I might as well box up all my old clothes as she has not seen me wear anything without a ladies size label in it for months. I did not throw much out as I still wanted to have something to be a slob in and who knows I might need to present as the gender I was born one day.

If you have any ideas for a party this couple might host then feel free to make up your own story, write it out, or send me your suggestions.
Happy dreaming.
Lauran