A Christmas Party - part 1


Bob gets invited to his office's Christmas Party. His colleagues convince him that life is more fun in a dress.

Hi, I'm Bob Smith, and I want to tell you about an unexpected thing that happened at my works Christmas party this year.

I started my new job as a software developer in early November. It wasn't my first job, I had worked for the local council for a few years once I left college and they had sent me on various training courses, but it was my first job in the commercial sector and I found it hard meeting all the new people and trying to find my place in the company.

I didn't really want to go to the office Christmas party, but my Mum had convinced me that it was a necessary evil when I'd called her after I got the details in an email at work. The girls in HR had set it all up. It was going to take place at a local hotel that had conferencing facilities and did wedding receptions and the like at weekends. It seemed a bit swanky to me. We got several reminders via email telling us where and when it was, asking people to confirm their menu selection and the dress code. The dress code seemed to be aimed specifically at the men. It was clearly stated, for the avoidance of doubt that, although the party was not a formal black tie dinner, tuxedos would be appropriate, jeans, t-shirts and trainers definitely would not be. We would be representing the company in public and anyone not dressed appropriately would be asked to leave.

I asked my boss about it and she told me that, a few years ago, some of the younger male colleagues had turned up in jeans and leather jackets and the HR girls had been so infuriated that they had given them a hard time for the rest of the year. There was nothing specific done, but the atmosphere of simmering resentment to those guys kind of infected the whole company somehow and they had all left eventually.

Oh, and my boss? The development team leader? She's the only woman in the IT team. Her name is Cathy and she's the smartest person I've ever met, I think. I've been impressed by Cathy since I arrived at the company. I think I must have impressed her too, during the recruitment process. They interviewed dozens of candidates and I was the only one that they took on. Cathy has told me that it's very hard getting good junior developers in our area.

So, the big day finally arrived. Work was very quiet, a lot of the female staff left early to start getting ready and there was an air of expectation which was vaguely disturbing.
Once my day was finally finished I rushed home to get ready. I say “home”, but it didn't really feel like home yet. It was a house where I rented a room with 3 others, 2 girls and another guy. I hardly saw Emma and Joe, Emma spent most of her time at her boyfriend's place these days and Joe stayed in his room playing computer games and snacking all the time. Andrea was the third person and she was kind of the “house mother”. She organised joint shopping deliveries for us all, including toilet roll and milk, and bathroom cleaning rotas. The landlord used her as an unofficial deputy and gave her a discount on her rent because she kept everything running. Andrea worked as a paralegal for a local lawyers company. I had agreed with Andrea that I would have exclusive use of the bathroom that evening to allow me to get out on time, but I needn't have bothered because there was no one else around. I could hears muffled explosions from Joe's room, so I guessed he was home already. So, a quick shower and shave later and I was nearly ready to go. Shaving was a little optimistic, I guess, I'm small and blond so I can't really manage the dark 2-days worth of stubble that Mark at work could manage. He was tall and dark and managed to look slightly disreputable to me, a little like the guy in Poldark. I could never see what women saw in him…

So a white shirt, a dark green tailored fit suit ( being small has its advantages in the sales) and a midnight blue tie with a snowflake pattern and I was done. There was no way that this outfit would get me in any trouble with HR!

As I arrived at the hotel I was beginning to wonder if I was a little over-dressed if anything. There were several young ladies wearing not very much trip-trapping into the hotel on vertiginous heels. When I got through the door I discovered why… although the hotel would easily cater for everyone in the company only the younger colleagues and senior management were present. Also, a lot of the male colleagues had not come, I guess they couldn't be bothered to dress-up for a work do. The ladies seemed to have made up for it, the ones who were present had really gone to town, hair, makeup, sequins, silk and satin with slashes up to their armpits and down to their navels, as my dear old mum would have said.
But, what I hadn't realised was that we weren't the only company joining the Christmas party tonight. There was a local car dealership, the local council and a few other companies there was even one old couple on a table by themselves as “the Jones party” and a larger group as “the Smiths” that I assume was a family and friends group.

There were drinks on a table near the entrance, sparkling wine on one side and a “mocktail” on the other. I didn't want to make a fool of myself at my first social event so I went for a mocktail and I wandered into the crowded lobby trying to find someone I recognised…

There was one girl who caught my eye, not because she was pretty. She was attractive enough, but nothing spectacular, looks-wise. No, the thing that caught my attention was how she was sat, how she held herself. She was sat in the middle of a three-seater sofa with a crowd of men, young and old, around her. She looked like she was a queen and they were her court, even though she was a young woman, early twenties I would guess, in a tiny red sparkly mini dress that looked as though it was demonstrating the limits of the tensile strength of lycra (she kept adjusting it, as I watched). She held the attention of all the men around her. She was spectacularly vivid in her looks and mannerisms. But I didn't recognise her or any of the men she was with, so I carried on with my search.
A short time later a found Cathy standing with Becky and Claire from HR. I said 'Hi’ and stood around, trying to figure out what their conversation was about. It was a, sometimes hilarious, careful and detailed critique of everyone within view of the corner they were in. To call it “bitching” would be unfair, as some of the comments were quite positive, especially about some of the more attractive guys. But the most shared glee was clearly obtained from the shared quiet dissection of other womens’ outfits and appearance.
“Did you see the redhead 'holding court’ on the way in?” I heard a voice say. I was surprised to realise it was my voice. Clearly, so were all the women, they turned to look me up and down and then, not all at once and so subtly that I thought no one would figure out who they were looking at they looked back towards the entrance to find the vivacious redhead on the sofa.

“Oh. Her.” said Claire, in a flat voice.
“We saw her on the way in, like you did.” said Becky. “She clearly loves to be the centre of attention, alright.”
“She has no self respect.” said Cathy.
“You have to give her her due,” Claire said “she’s showing a lot of body-confidence. I don't think I'd dare to wear a dress that tight!”
“Or so short.” muttered Becky.
“If she so much as sneezes she'll be showing a lot more body and a bit less confidence!” Cathy said.
“Surely, she's wearing shorts or knickers under that?” I said.
“Hmph!” said Claire “a girl like that will only wear knickers on certain days of the month!”

That seemed to break the ice. After that they seemed to adopt me as an apprentice bitch. Correcting my misapprehensions if I failed to realise just how skanky a young women really was and exactly how clueless the men following them round were.

After about 20 minutes, during which time we were joined by three other women from the company, we were called into the 'Blackdowns Suite' for dinner. Our company had 3 large tables booked and we had to figure out where we were going to sit on our tables. I sat between Cathy and a girl I'd never met before called Fiona, who worked in the training team.

I had worked with someone from training at the council, for a while, so I was fascinated to find out what kind of training they were providing in my new company. I was surprised by Fiona, she was very chatty, not guarded or affected at all. It was almost child-like in the way she just chatted away saying, apparently, the first thing that came into her head.

We hadn't been sat down very long when a guy from the hotel with a microphone came out and introduced himself as Andy, our MC and DJ for the night. Before we could eat, he told us, we were going to play some party games to get us in the mood. First of all, we were going to play a game called 'heads or tails’. Everyone had to stand up and touch either their head, for 'heads’ or their bottom, for 'tails’. There were a few giggles when he said 'bottom’, I can only assume that some of the girls had had some wine already.
The DJ would then flip a coin, call out whether it was heads or tails and whoever was wrong would sit down. Within a couple of coin tosses we were left with only 5 people still playing, one guy and four women. The DJ called them out into the open area on the dancefloor in front of the DJ’s booth and got them to introduce themselves. The guy was called Mark, and he got a cheer from the guys at the car dealership. The girl who had been holding court earlier was called Jordan and she got a bigger cheer from the guys from the car dealership, where she worked, and a few guys from the other tables too. She was fiddling with her dress a lot, I noticed, every time she pulled it down to cover her bum her boobs threatened to pop out and every time she adjusted her cleavage the dress would ride up. But with her brightly dyed red hair, red dress and nails and her huge smile she certainly attracted attention.
Sandra and Alison were slightly older, one was from the NHS table and one was from the local council, I think. Alison’s dress was black lace with a plunging cleavage. She was very short, with serious curves, she wasn't fat, but she went in and out a lot. The last woman was called Tracy, she had a black dress, black boots and very dramatic dark makeup. She looked slightly predatory. When the DJ got to her he said “Oh no! I know Tracy. The prize for this is a bottle of wine and the last person who needs another bottle of wine is Tracy!”
Tracy just laughed and they carried on with the game. Mark was out straight away, Jordan went next and then Tracy won. She blew the DJ a kiss and went to the bar to collect her prize.

The staff started setting up for the next game as the DJ started explaining. They put eight chairs in a row facing away from the dance floor. Then they put 8 reindeer models at the far end of the dance floor, each on a weighted tray. Each tray had some string tied to it and the string was wrapped around a stick. Each string was more than long enough to stretch across the dance floor, which the staff did, to leave a stick about 30cm long wrapped with string leading back to a reindeer on each chair. They were careful to ensure the string went under the chair and came up in front of the chair leaving a string wrapped stick in the middle of each seat.

“Ok” said the DJ “We need a volunteer from each table!”
Cathy shoved my hand in the air and pushed me forward.
“Take him!” She yelled. Fiona and the other girls on our table joined in…
“Take him! Take him!” They cackled like hyenas as they shoved me forward.

Some other tables had people arguing over who wanted to go up. I noticed Jordan just came forward as if it was her right.

I accepted my fate with a cheery grin and sat down between Jordan and another woman. There were only 2 other guys and 5 women on the chairs. The DJ got us all sat down facing away from the reindeer with the stick in our laps. He told us turning around was a disqualifying event and that the first reindeer to reach the chairs, with all the string wrapped around the stick, would win a marvellous prize.

While the rules were being stated I racked my brains for the best way to do this. The obvious way was to have a hand each side and twiddle the stick, but that struck me as way too slow. The fact that the stick was so long and the string was wrapped in in middle made me think that rolling the stick on my thighs was the way to go. Thinking quickly I realised that rolling the string up my thighs, towards my crotch, which was the direction each of us was currently set to do, would put me at a disadvantage, because I was wearing trousers that would wrinkle up and catch on the stick if I did that. I surreptitiously twisted the stick round while the DJ was talking so the string came up on the back edge of the stick, rather than the front edge, so I would be rolling the stick down my legs to wind it onto the stick. Quickly lifting the stick up to my crotch again would allow me to start the process again and I figured I would quickly wind the reindeer in.
I noticed Jordan glanced at my crotch and I guess she did some calculations of her own because she moved her stick to her knees to roll it in the opposite direction, for the same effect. With her tights being anchored to the opposite end of her, very shapely, legs that seemed like a good idea.

The DJ went down the line and got everyone to introduce themselves, then he checked that everyone was ready. I noticed Cathy and Fiona had come to stand by the chairs, I guess for support, or maybe to have laugh at my expense. A number of other people from the other tables were by the line of chairs to support their colleagues, although most people were content to sit at their tables and cheer from afar. It wasn't that afar, we were in in the same room, after all.

The DJ counted down “3, 2, 1! Go!” and we were off.

Jordan was putting more passion than skill into her movements, and her skirt rose up further than ever, proving Claire's assertion to be true, which was rather distracting. The girl next to me was doing a weird exaggerated twiddling motion, which, with her low cut dress and ample bosom was also very distracting. Meanwhile I got into my own groove and keeping my movements clean and precise I managed to bring my reindeer in first. I fact, it smacked into the back of the chair with some force. Cathy screamed “We won! We won!” while gleefully jumping up and down and gesticulating at our reindeer. Which was also quite distracting. Especially as, with the chair placed where it was and her legs either side of mine so she could get a closer view of the reindeer I got a very up close and personal view of her ample charms. Bouncing up and down a few centimetres from my nose. With all this stimulation, it wasn't surprising that I felt a stirring in my trousers. Fiona, from her vantage a little further back, noticed my predicament. But instead of helping me, she talked in Cathy's ear. Cathy's eyes went wide as she glanced down. Jordan caught on to the fact that something was going on as she saw where Cathy's glance alighted. Cathy fell into my lap with a whoop and ground herself against me, thus making a mountain out of a molehill. Well, it felt like that anyway. As she got back to her feet, Jordan reached across and gave my manhood an appraising squeeze through my trousers.
“Well done!” she said, with an odd smile.

The DJ came over and said “Congratulations, Bobby! Stand up and give everyone a wave!”

Thinking dark thoughts about flagpoles and waving I got to my feet gingerly. Cathy took pity on me and strategically positioned herself so that I didn’t embarrass myself too badly.

By the time we made it back to our table with a huge bottle of prosecco I was pretty much back to normal. Fiona winked at Cathy, so she had probably figured out something was wrong but, what the heck? I was a young guy and it happened, especially if older, busty, women rubbed themselves against me, I had nothing to be ashamed of, as several women now had cause to realise.

“Are you going to open that?” Cathy asked, looking at the bottle.
“I’m driving” I said, ruefully.
“Nonsense! Share a taxi with us, you can crash at our place!”
“Your place?” I’d never really had a chance to figure out Cathy’s living arrangements.
“Me and Fiona share a house over in Park Street, a bunch of girls are staying there tonight. Why don’t you join us? You clearly have a sense of humour and you aren’t such a stiff shirt as we were starting to worry you were!”
I thought for a moment… “What the hell! No one is expecting me home tonight.”
I cracked open the bottle with a Pop! of the cork and several eager hands thrust forward empty glasses.

The rest of the night was a bit blurry for a while. Despite my bravado, I wasn’t used to drinking sparkly wine and it went to my head a bit. I remember the meal, 3 courses, pate and toast, roast turkey and christmas pudding for dessert. Then the DJ kicked off the disco, the lights went down and the girls dragged me to the dancefloor. Every time one lot of girls flagged and sat down, another group would drag me up. I’m not sure when I became the designated dance partner but I think I spent something like 3 hours dancing. I must have danced with every woman in the room.

There was one woman I remember, that I hadn’t noticed before the meal. She looked a little like Daryl Hannah from that old mermaid movie they keep showing on Sky. Long blonde hair, very tall. I thought she was wearing heels, at first, because she was as tall as any of the guys, and a good deal taller than me, but I found she was wearing ballet pumps, black tights, a tiny, tiny tight grey mini skirt that was only decent because the tights were so black and a white blouse that was so sheer you could see the outline of her lacy white bra though it. She moved so gracefully, it was uncanny. She had amazing long legs and she ground herself against the men from her table, and, eventually against me, in a shockingly provocative way.

Oh, and there was another girl, well a pair of girls really, who were dancing together. The short blonde in the black sparkly romper was a good dancer and kept egging on the other girl who was in a red dress showing an extraordinarily ample cleavage. The girl in the red dress was, I think, very drunk and very coarse and making suggestive gestures in my direction, which was kind of awkward.

There were lots of other girls who danced that night, of course, but those were the ones that stood out for me for some reason.

At one point Cathy and I were on the dancefloor and Cathy grabbed my hand like we were doing some form of ballroom dance and pulled me close. I let her lead me in the dance, frankly grateful for the support as I was feeling a little tired by then. I looked over and saw the girl in the red dress and the girl in the black romper mimicking us.

“You have inspired us!” shouted the girl in the romper as she dipped the girl in red, nearly tipping her out of her dress in the bargain then pulled her up for a passionate kiss.

As the evening wore on, more of the men vanished, leaving mostly women left. Cathy took me off to one side of the dancefloor with Fiona and explained that I had to go home with them because I was too drunk to drive.

“Well… “ said Fiona “I guess that’s ok, but he can’t come with us like that?”
“What’s wrong with my suit?”
“Nothing, for a guy, but we’re only allowed to have girls stay the night, our landlord is a real stick in the mud. Our neighbour will see you and shit-stir for the hell of it. We’ll have to disguise you.”

I thought for a moment, there was no way I would be able to order a taxi now, and I wasn’t about to risk driving drunk. It seemed like I had very little choice.

“Sure!, How will we do this?”
Fiona grabbed my hand “Come with me! Cathy - grab the girls and get an outfit together! Meet us in the ladies!”

Cathy’s eyes lit up and she was off on a mission. Fiona dragged me into the ladies. I put up a token struggle but I was too drunk to really care.

There was no one else in there, when we first got in, but that wasn’t the case for long. It seemed like every woman at the party had heard of the plan and decided to ‘help’. Jordan came in first, offering to swap her dress for my jacket. Fiona readily agreed and I was stripped so fast I didn’t have time to complain. Jordan followed suit and was down to her bra and tights in seconds. She handed over a tiny scrap of red glittery fabric as Fiona handed her my suit. I have to say, Jordan looked very sexy in my suit, her hips and boobs stretched the fabric in interesting ways. Pulling the ‘dress’ up my hips it became obvious that it would hang a little more loosely on me, particularly around the boobs. The only area where it was not loose was around the crotch. Once again, the attention of multiple women was triggering my ‘galant reflex’, but in the tiny mini dress it looked positively obscene. Jordan guffawed and offered to ‘take care of that’ for me. At the same time various girls were plucking at my eyebrows, pulling off my shoes and generally falling over themselves to ‘girlify’ me. This felt like it had got completely out of hand.

Suddenly there was a shout - “What is the meaning of this!” a woman’s voice roared with unmistakable authority.
There stood Julie, the hotel’s event manager, the woman who had organised the party on behalf of the hotel. Beside her stood the tall girl in the grey mini skirt I had danced with.

Fiona and Cathy rapidly tried to explain. Julie heard just a little of this and then said loudly.
“Ok! That’s quite enough! I will not allow this party to descend into chaos! You, you and you, Lucy - stay - everyone else - out! Off you go! Back to the party!” Julie had pointed out Cathy, Fiona and the tall girl. Jordan piped up “Hey, that’s my dress! I think I should stay, too!”
“Ok…” said Julie through gritted teeth “the four of you stay, everyone else, out!”
Everyone else vanished, it was eerie how the place went from chaos to silence in a few seconds.
“Right, now we can hear ourselves think. What’s going on?”
Cathy explained that I had to go home with them but they were only allowed to have women. There were going to be a lot of women there and no funny business, but I couldn’t go home with anyone else and she had promised to look after me.
“And you are ok with this?” Julie asked me, with concern in her eyes.
“Sure! It may be the wine talking, but I honestly can’t see the big deal. It’s just…”
I looked at the reflection of myself in the mirror and gestured…
“I look a little ridiculous like this.” I turned sad eyes to Julie and she smiled a warm smile back at me.
“Oh, you don’t realise it, but you have come to the right place, sweetie… come with me, girls!”

Julie led us to an office behind the reception desk. She grabbed several boxes, pointed out several other boxes for Lucy to grab, a bag for Jordan and we all were led to one of the hotel rooms near reception.

Julie led us in and told me to shower and shave my legs and armpits and arms. She handed me a ladies razor and some flower-scented body wash, toiletries and shaving gel. I looked at her, slightly baffled. Julie looked at Lucy and Lucy shook her head slightly and then glanced at Jordan.
“You…” Julie looked at Jordan…
“Jordan” Jordan supplied.
“Jordan… right, go with her and see she does it right.”
Jordan eyes lit up and she saluted Julie before dragging me into the bathroom.

I’m not sure what happened next, we were both naked in the shower and there was some rubbing and squelching that didn’t last very long and we came back out, wrapped in hotel towels, I didn’t have any body hair below my neck and I was much less inclined to tenting the front of my dress. Jordan had a smile like the cat that got the cream.

Jordan had insisted that we wrap big towels around our bodies covering our chests and small towels around our hair.

When we came out the other women gave us a knowing look and I was dragged over to the bed. Laid out on the bed was a bewildering array of flesh coloured rubber, women’s underwear and clothing.

“Lucy, dear, can you help… Bobbie, was it? With her bits and prosthetics?”

“Sure.” said Lucy “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

“That’s great, what are you doing?” I asked.

Lucy lifted a thing like a flesh-coloured pair of padded shorts.

“This will help hide what you have and show what you don't have. Let's call them 'spanx'…”
She lifted two detached boobs.
“I think it’s obvious what these are...these ones will look like they have always been part of you, when I’m finished.”
Ladies knickers, “panties”,
Tights, “tights”,
Bra, “bra”,
Jordan’s dress, “and whatever that is…shall we?”

Lucy helped me get into the stuff while the others talked about makeup and shoes. I felt a little awkward as Lucy strapped me into the spanx, especially as her deft fingers tried to show me how to reposition my testicles.

“Is that really necessary?!” I hissed at her, very quietly.
She looked at me, stood up, smoothed her tiny skirt and did a little turn to show me all sides of her.
“I don’t know….what do you think?”
“You mean…. You!?”
“Yep!” she was smiling now.
“No fucking way!”
“Well, I’m touched that you don’t believe me, really I am, it’s quite a compliment, but I have been doing this for a while. It’s how I know Julie. The hotel runs sessions for cross-dressers and trans-women.”
“First session is free!” quipped Julie from the other side of the room.

As all the women in the room turned to look at me and Lucy, trying to force my junk into the spanx my nads shrivelled so completely that they suddenly slipped into place with a disturbing ease.

Lucy stuck the breast forms to my chest and helped me to put on the bra and knickers, which were lacy and cute and felt strangely scratchy on my newly shaved skin.

I was starting to sober up very fast now, or I thought I was, but there was a weird electricity in the air, a kind of excitement, that almost felt like someone had slipped me some drugs. I was flying under the influence of so much adrenaline and so many conflicting emotions.
Lucy helped me slip into Jordan’s dress, only this time I filled it a lot more convincingly.

Cathy and Fiona came over and Fiona fussed with my hair as Cathy did my face - she plucked my eyebrows, a bit, glued on fake eyelashes, fake nails (Fiona painted them, Jordan did my feet), I don’t know everything they did but soon Cathy put on some lipstick and got me to purse my lips then they strapped sandals to my feet, pulled me into a standing position and pulled me over to pose in front of the mirror.

Fiona and Cathy were stood either side of me, thank goodness, because I nearly fainted.
It was a startling transformation, I wasn’t gorgeous, I didn’t project the kind of sexiness or confidence that the other girls did. But I definitely didn’t look like a boy!

I looked pretty, in a girl-next-door way, like a young woman dressing in her older sister’s clothes.

“Right!” said Cathy “we have half an hour of the party left, then we have to get ‘Cinders’ home. Let’s show her how to party like a real woman!”

Julie had tears in her eyes - “Oh, my dear, you look so good! Go, go on! I can clear this up! Have a magical night, and I hope we see you soon!” she tucked one of her business cards into my handbag (I don’t know where I got a handbag!) and handed it to me as she shooed us out of the door.

We trip-trapped our way back to the party. Everybody turned and stared when we came through the doors together and all the conversations stopped for a moment before they roared back in louder than ever. Cathy and Fiona dragged me onto the dancefloor and Jordan and Lucy started trying to get me to dance like a woman.

I hadn’t realised that there was so much difference between dancing as a man or a woman, but they both showed me how to move differently. It certainly felt very different, trying to balance in high heels. Cathy and Fiona got some more drinks in and I was giggling and wobbling by the time the DJ called the last tune. When the tune ended, and Lucy’s friend and Jordan (who had both grabbed me for a last dance and come up with an impromptu ‘Bobbie sandwich’) untangled themselves from me, the girls dragged me out to the black cab before I could go back for ‘one last kiss’ with Lucy’s friend and we were whisked back to the shared house. There were 6 of us in the cab, Jordan was sat on the floor, I’m not sure the driver had realised she had snuck in.
Fiona, Cathy and I were on the back seat together and Claire and Becky were in the seats facing backwards.

“I bet you never thought that you would get Jordan out of that dress!” said Claire darkly.
“I know for a damned fact that you never would have imagined Bobbie getting into that dress!” Becky said, laughing.
We were all shrieking with laughter as the taxi dropped us at the house.

A Christmas Party - part 2


Bob gets invited to his office's Christmas Party. His colleagues convince him that life is more fun in a dress.

-0-0-

Christmas party 2
When we got to Cathy's house we got out of the taxi like the genteel young ladies that we were. Which is to say, we woke the entire street with our shrieks of laughter and drunken giggling.
It took Fiona and Cathy a couple of minutes working together to get the door unlocked. Jordan was clamping her legs together with crossed ankles by the time they finished and she pushed past everyone else with a heartfelt cry of “I need the loo, so bad!”
I don't know how she knew where to go but the door had hardly closed and I'm sure there wasn't time to lock it before the tinkling sound started.

On hearing the sound all four of the remaining girls looked at each other with the dawning realisation that they too, desperately needed the loo. Bags were dropped, belts were loosened and there was some half-hearted and quite careful jostling for position at the door. Cathy apparently decided she didn't need to go so badly that she was prepared to fight everyone else, or maybe she was just playing the good host, but she wandered off muttering something about “putting the kettle on”.
I wandered into the kitchen with her and soon we were organising cups, milk and a teapot on a tray.

“What about coffee?” I asked.
“Hmm, I hadn't thought of that. I know most of us will want tea, you might want to ask your girlfriend”.
“Girlfriend!?”
“That Jordan girl?”
“Oh, her…girlfriend?”
“Well I guess she might just be keeping tabs on her dress, but she seemed very friendly in the shower with you?”
“Oh” I was blushing, in the skimpy dress it felt like every square centimetre of skin was pink now. “We… . yes, I guess I have a girlfriend now?”
“I guess you do. Although, it's strange, she didn't seem that interested until she saw you in her dress…”
Jordan chose that moment to walk through the kitchen door.

“Were my ears burning?” Jordan asked brightly.
“I guess they were” admitted Cathy “We were trying to figure out your intentions with young Bobbi here.” She pointed at me.

Jordan walked over to put a possessive arm around my waist as she learnt against the worktop next to me. It might sound strange but it only struck me as she crossed kitchen that she was wearing my suit jacket, but she didn't have my suit trousers on.

“Mmmm, 'intentions’, eh?” She looked at me like I was a bowl of chocolate ice-cream. “So many possibilities” she grinned and turned to Cathy “you know, I've never had any cause to question my sexuality, at all, until I saw Bobbi in that dress. Now I find it hard to think of anything else. Such a delicious surprise in such a yummy little package!”

Jordan's obvious interest in me was surprising and made me a little uncomfortable, even if it hadn't been for my constrained plumbing.
Cathy turned to me and said, with some concern in her voice, “It looks like the ball is in your court, Bobbi, how do you want to proceed?”
“Proceed?” I was worried, it felt like I was standing on the edge of a precipice and I wasn't clear what we were talking about. It seemed like a good time to change the subject. “Er… Jordan, where are my trousers?”

Cathy lost it completely.

She barked out a laugh like the braying of a donkey.

Jordan looked at her with a gentle smile.
When Cathy finally paused for breath Jordan said “It's fine, I left them with Julie, we can get them next week when Julie is back in the hotel. They didn't really fit me right and I feel better in a dress”.
She opened my jacket to reveal a black dress with tiny spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline that was completely covered when she had had the jacket done up, she left the jacket open now.

“Where did you get that dress?” Cathy asked.
“It was in Julie's box of dress up clothes, I had a rummage while you were doing her make-up”.
Becky came in then.

“Nice dress” she mumbled, I'm not sure if it was aimed at me or Jordan. “Any chance of that cuppa, Cathy?” She continued in a clearer voice “I'm that parched”.
“Coming up” Cathy said “we were just trying to figure out whether Bobbi has a girlfriend, or trousers, for that matter”.
“Ooh, could I have a coffee?” Jordan asked.
“Me too?” I said.
“Heathens” said Cathy, “there's instant in the cupboard there.” She pointed above our heads.
“Instant!” Jordan said indignantly, “and she calls us 'heathens’!”
Nevertheless she started taking the coffee jar down and making us both coffee.

Jordan looked at me and asked “How do you take it, sweetie?”
“Huh?” I answered, I was having trouble concentrating with the full intensity of her charisma focussed on me, especially now her cleavage revealing dress was unleashed from my jacket.
“She means your coffee, silly” Cathy hissed at me, she answered for me “Bobbi likes it sweet and creamy”.
Jordan smirked “Not dark, wet and bitter, like his woman?”
Claire came in then. She asked “What was all the laughing about?”
“Cathy thought it was funny that Jordan has lost my trousers” I said.
Claire peered at Jordan and took in her skimpy dress, then she looked pointedly at me and my skimpy dress, without saying a word she raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“Fascinating” she said, absolutely dead-pan.
Cathy cracked up again as Claire struggled to keep an impassive expression.

Finally, Claire couldn't hold it any longer and just gave a very unladylike snort before she too cracked up.

“ She may have lost your trousers, but at least you got into her dress!” Claire said.
“Ah, but did you get into her knickers? Enquiring minds want to know!” Cathy asked me. Before I could think of a response Jordan came back:
“Oh, I never wear them, myself. But Bobbi has enough knickers for the both of us!”
Cathy gaped like a fish, I grinned and nodded and Claire giggled like a lunatic. Becky came through the door and stared at the three of us as if we had escaped from a lunatic asylum. Cathy suddenly stopped, I guess she did the math and worked out that Fiona was the last one left in the loo. With that thought clearly the urgency of her need to prepare was back with full force.
“For F***'s sake, don't make me laugh again!” She warned darkly as she minced towards the bathroom.

“What was she laughing about?” Becky asked. Claire giggled as Jordan replied, “Situational comedy”.
Becky looked baffled.
“You had to be there” I offered, my voice rising slightly at the end to turn the statement into a question. Jordan grinned at me.
“Exactly” she said, and stepped in to kiss me.

I don't exactly remember what happened for a while after that. Her lips were red and glistening and her mouth claimed mine with a finality that brooked no denial. She was very strong. Or maybe I was weak. I didn't know it was possible to get someone else's tongue so far down your throat.
I don't remember much from then on for… well, a while. I stopped thinking. I think I stopped breathing. When Jordan pulled away I think I whimpered.

My entire body tingled like I'd had an electric shock. I blinked and looked around. Claire, Becky and Fiona were staring at the two of us, gaping. Cathy came back in then.
“What did I miss?” She asked, seeing the three women's stunned expressions.
“Pure porn…” Becky said, visibly pulling herself together.
“Wow…” breathed Claire, who looked a little flushed.
“You've never seen two girls make out before?” Jordan asked with an impish grin.
“Nu-uh” said Fiona.
“Right, I think it's clear you two won't be sharing a bed in my house tonight!” Cathy said firmly. She had a twinkle in her eyes, but she meant what she said.
She continued, “Bobbi, you can sleep in my room. Fiona, are you alright keeping an eye on Jordan? Becky and Claire, you can have the sofas in the living-room.”

Jordan pouted then she suddenly became more conciliatory. “Thank you for letting me stay, I know you don't know me yet, but I would love to get to know you all, not just Bobbi”, she gave me a wink as she said my name, “I have never had as much fun at an office Christmas party as I have had with you guys!”
Cathy's stern demeanour softened slightly. She said; “You're welcome to stay, but Bobbi is, I think, very vulnerable tonight, with emotions running high, and the alcohol has been flowing. I don't know who would be taking advantage of whom, but I don't need the drama on a work night.”
“You lot didn't take the day off after a Christmas party?” Jordan asked incredulously “wow, you really are hardcore party animals!”
“We may be, but Bobbi isn't. I think we better drink up and get to bed”.
“Wait…” I said, something was bothering me but I was feeling a little fuzzy now… “Work? What am I going to wear? How do I get my boobs off? Lucy stuck them to me! I can't go to work looking like this!”
“Let me have a look” Cathy said. I went over to her and she started to investigate my chest area. She realised the other four women were staring at my chest. “Ladies. A little privacy? Please.”
Jordan pouted but turned away, the others reluctantly followed suit. Cathy had pulled the top of the dress down and had my boobs on display when Jordan turned around again to look. Jordan held her finger to her lips as she looked me in the eyes and I kept quiet as Cathy prodded and poked. Cathy was so intent on figuring out how to get my attachments off that she didn't notice Jordan.

It made me feel strange, seeing a beautiful woman staring lustfully at my tits. Shy, proud and aroused. I stood a little straighter but kept my head down. Cathy noticed my change in posture and looked round. By the time she looked all the women had turned and were looking at me.
“Hmm, doesn't look as though we need to worry about you being embarrassed, you tart!” Cathy said.
“It doesn't feel like it's really me” I admitted “it's like I'm a puppet of myself or a game avatar, just role playing or something”.
“So, what role are you playing, exactly, when you are standing round with your tits falling out?” Cathy asked with a wry expression on her face.
“Ooh, I know, I know!” Said Jordan “my sissy girlfriend, trying to tease me into becoming a lesbian!” Jordan's eyes became enormous as her face took on a shocked expression “and it worked dammit!”

Cathy cracked up again, and I couldn't help laughing at Jordan's antics. It was an odd sensation, the breasts that were firmly attached to my chest jiggled in time with my chuckles.
“They're quite firmly attached, aren't they?” Claire observed, “very realistic!”
Fiona was looking a little flushed and Becky was starting to look bored. I'd got the impression that she was often bored if she wasn't the centre of attention, a bit like Jordan, though a bit less 'in your face’ about it than Jordan.

“It's quite simple, go into work dressed as a girl. With Claire and I both here you know you are going to get the full backing of HR, so there's no way you can get into any trouble. Plus, everyone has already seen you in that dress…”
“And so much of her is on show!” Fiona inserted her comment quickly into the flow of Becky's words.
“Quite.” Said Becky.
“I could just get up early and go home and get a suit?” I said.
Cathy said “No, I don't think that would work, actually. You don't have a shirt you could do up over that chest, I don't want you flashing more cleavage than Jordan at work… ” that got a “Hey!” from Jordan, which wasn't very compelling given how she was dressed, Cathy continued “... and I don't want you at work in baggy leisure wear, we have a dress code, after all and HR are keen to enforce it.”

“Yes, we are!” Becky agreed, Claire nodded too.

“Ok, so what can I wear then?” I asked, a little annoyed. I had thought I would wear a hoody and hide in the corner.
“Well, it can't be anything of mine, it would swim on you!” Cathy said. Cathy wasn't fat, but she was very curvy and certainly not as skinny as me.

Becky and Claire looked at each other and Becky said “Well, we didn't bring a wardrobe with us, we only have the clothes we were going to wear ourselves.”

“Sorry, sweetie” said Jordan, “I don't have even that much, in fact, I have as going to ask Fiona if I could borrow something tomorrow?”

We all turned to Fiona …

“Well… my trousers wouldn't be any good to either of you, they'd be far too short and look like culottes! But I do have a smart pinstripe skirt suit for Bobbi and I'm sure I can find a dress for Jordan that would show some cleavage!”

Jordan stuck her tongue out at Fiona.

“Ok, we'll do that. Bobbi and I will need to be up at 6 so I have time to sort us both out.” Cathy said.
“6.00a.m., in the morning?!” I tried to convey the full horror I felt at having to wake up in just a few hours time.
“Oh yes. If your going to be a woman in my team, you'll be the best damned woman I can make you!” Cathy said with relish, she went on; “Fiona, can you give me the suit, two pairs of tights and some underwear, so I don't have to wake you in the morning?”
“Sure, I guess. Why two pairs of tights?” Fiona asked.
“Bobbi's never put tights on before…” Cathy said and waited for Fiona to figure it out.
“Got you, high derniers it is then!” Fiona said.
Cathy turned to Jordan next.
“Are you ok with me turfing you out at eight?” She asked.
“Oh sure, I guess it's a bit much letting a stranger sleep in unsupervised after you go to work. It's not the first time I've had to slink home in the morning. It would be nice if someone could lend me a change of clothes in the morning, I'll have them washed and returned before you know it. Oh, and if you have a spare toothbrush?” Jordan said, smiling brightly.
“I'm sure Fiona can sort you out” Cathy said as she looked across at Fiona who smiled and gave a slight nod. “Come with me, young Bobbi” she told me.
“But… my coffee!” I protested.
“Will be cool enough for you to drink when we get back.” Cathy said.

“Wait!” Jordan cried out when Cathy went to lead me away “We need selfies to capture this moment!”
“She's absolutely right” Fiona said “There has to be pictures.”
“What? You don't have enough blackmail material already?” I asked.
“Humph, you try giving someone a simple makeover, and this is the thanks we get” Becky said. I wasn't sure if she was serious, but I thought it probably wasn't a good idea to antagonise her as my safety tomorrow could depend on her.
“Ok...wait...where's my phone?” I asked, suddenly panicked at the thought of losing my phone.
“In your handbag, silly, like all of us!” Jordan said as she handed me the little bag I'd nearly forgotten when we'd left the hotel. I looked inside to find my phone, two condoms, two tampons, a sanitary towel, a purse and some lipstick. My face must have shown my confusion.
“Well, you had to have somewhere to put your stuff, and I wanted it to look convincing.” Jordan said.
I shrugged and got my phone out, unlocked and handed it to Claire.
“Can you take some of Jordan and me?” I asked.
Claire got us to pose together and pull a few faces as she took a few shots then Becky took the camera from her and ordered her into the shots, too. We were goofing around with Fiona and Claire when Cathy came back. I don’t know how many shots Becky took.

Cathy took a few shots with Becky in them and then gave the camera back to Becky and got a nice photo of just her and me together. I still have it in my gallery. I think it makes us look like a mother and daughter.

Becky said “I don’t know what you’re doing, Bobbi, but the camera really loves you. Step aside, Cathy, and let’s see Bobbi strut her stuff...Show me ‘vulnerable’!”

Cathy moved away and a thought for a second and turned puppy dog eyes to the HR bitch who could ruin me with a thought.

“Show me ‘Happy’!” Becky said, just as Jordan stuck her tongue out to me and waggled her tounge piercing, I couldn’t help giggling at her antics.

“Show me ‘Love’!” Becky said, getting into her role of camera-woman, she sounded a bit like Austin Powers from the movies, I half expected her to say ‘and… I’m spent!’. I thought about what the tongue-piercing might mean for me, if Jordan was my girlfriend and I gave her a big smile.

“I said ‘Love’, not ‘Lust’!” Becky said “But… close enough. You could be a model, you know. Fashion loves that androgynous, flat-chested look.”
“Bobbi’s not flat!” Jordan leapt to my defence “We stuck a nice rack to her!”
“You goof!” I said to her fondly, “I am too, flat. At least, I would be without these prosthetics”. I hefted a double-handful to make my point.
“C’mon” said Cathy “Enough goofing around, we have to get ready for bed”.

She led me off to the bathroom upstairs and gave me some wipes to take off my make-up.
“Er… I think I need to pee” I said.
“So, why don't you, then?” Cathy asked.
“I can't feel my willy, or my balls.. “ I said “I'm a little nervous what I'll find 'down there’”.
“Well, there was no time for surgery and no blood, so I think we'll be fine. Do you want to try by yourself, or do you think you need assistance?”
“I'll try it by myself, I guess. But, please, don't go too far.”

“Do you mind if I take a look at how you are trussed up? I didn't get too good a look at what watsername, was up to when you were getting done up and if we are going to keep you from having an obvious outy where you should have an innie I may need to learn some new tricks”.
“I guess not” I sighed, as I started pulling my dress up so I could see for myself what Lucy had done.

We both said “Wow”.
I was wearing pretty lacy white panties over a flesh-coloured pair of elasticated shorts of some sort. But the shorts were kind of padded or moulded. In the same way that Batman's outfit in the latest movies made him look like he had muscles and a six-pack, only these “spanx” as Lucy had called them made it look like I had a lady's butt and no willy.
“Pretty sophisticated for a hotel's 'lost and found’” said Cathy.
“Julie said that they were samples for an event that they hold sometimes” I said, “I think, maybe, there are a lot more men dressed as women wandering around than we think”.
“Well, if they look as good as you and Lucy then no one would ever be able to guess that you weren’t 100% female. I never guessed about Lucy and, dammit, you look too good to be true. I’m going to find it hard to ever see you as a guy again!” said Cathy.
“Thanks, I guess. Still it should be easier to see me as male once I get these spanx off and get my willy out!” I said with more bravado than I really felt. It was ridiculous to be trying to channel my machismo under these circumstances, but I was about to drop my pants, well, panties anyway, in front of my boss. Not something I would have believed if you would have told me yesterday morning.

I eased the spanx down and found my willy, looking quite shrunk and shrivelled. My testicles looked odd, like someone had hollowed them out and pressed the wrinkly skin into my body. Which I guess was almost what had happened. Cathy looked a little confused, so I explained…
“Lucy made me press my testes back up into my body.” I told her.
“You can do that?” she asked, seeming a little shocked.
“Well, I guess I can. Maybe some guys can’t? Mine didn’t actually come out of my body until a few years ago.” I said.
“Really? Maybe that late development is why you look so good as a girl?” she said.
“I don’t look good as a guy?”
“Oh, you look very pretty as a guy, too, I guess - a lot of the young women are into that kind of thing these days I think.”
“Really? Not the rugged, hairy chested macho men?”
“Not so much… most of the younger girls I talk to want someone who’s not a massive dick. Everything else is gravy. Still, every girl is different, and we can all change our minds! Ok, I think we need to leave the spanx off tonight and let things breathe. I’m guessing that will mean your balls drop again in the night and we’ll try and stuff them back inside you in the morning, what do you think?” Cathy asked.
“I’m not very keen on ‘stuffing’ any sensitive bits of me anywhere, but they slipped in once, I guess we can get them back in the morning, unless there’s some swelling or something. Do you have any boxer shorts?...” I trailed off as I saw Cathy’s face.
“Do I strike you as a ‘boxer shorts’ kind of girl?” she asked.
“No ma’am!” I said hurriedly.
“Hmph! ‘Ma’am? Anyway, I have a sleeping shirt and some sleep shorts. The shirt will swim on you and the shorts will fall down… I’d better ask Fiona. Will you be alright getting the rest of that makeup off while I ask?” Cathy said.
“Sure, it won’t take long. Do you have a toothbrush, too?” I asked.
“We have some manual ones, don’t worry. I’ll go and get them.” she said, and left.

This was the first time I’d been alone since I had been dressed as a woman. I took the opportunity to look at myself in the mirror before I took the makeup off. The makeup was a bit smeared, I guess from kissing Jordan. So I looked a little trashy, but I looked a lot better than I was really comfortable with. Lord knows, I looked out of Bobby’s class.

I got to work wiping the make-up off and I was astonished how much stuff came off my face and got left on the wipes. When I looked in the mirror again I looked very different and a bit washed out and pale in the harsh light.

But, I still looked like a girl, to my eyes. Not just because of the incongruous breasts hanging from my chest but because of the shape of my eyebrows and, I don't know, something indefinable about the way I carried myself. Perhaps the oddest thing was that I felt happy about that. I don't recall ever feeling like I was a girl before. I was acutely aware of my deficiencies as a man. Too short, too slender, too graceful. But those things that marked me out and held me back as a man were positives if I were only a woman.

Maybe...maybe, I should make the most of this opportunity? How many men had the chance to see life from the other point of view? What had I got to lose? My manly reputation? Pshaw. My love life? What love life? I got more female attention, dressed as a woman, than I had ever got in my whole life before. Except from my Mum, of course. I wasn't sure how she would take this, but there was no need to let her know, at least, not immediately.

Cathy came back to find me staring at myself in the mirror. She didn't say anything for a while, she just watched me.
Eventually she asked “So… what do you see?”

“Me… a me I have never met before.” I said.

“Hmm, I think we are all going to enjoy getting to know the new you” said Cathy, as she handed me a toothbrush and a very small bundle of dark green satin and cream lace.
I unfolded the bundle to find a pair of lacy green knickers and a beautiful dark green satin nightdress with cream lace detail, thin straps on the shoulders and a plunging neckline.

“It is beautiful, but not very comfortable?” I said.
“You may find it's more comfortable than you think...Jordan asked if you could say goodnight before you head to bed. You may want to wear this peignoir, or she won't leave you alone!” Cathy said as she handed me a kind of lacy dressing gown. “I'll leave you to get ready, come through to the kitchen when you’re done. Then my bedroom is the one at the top of the stairs. See you in a minute?”
“Sure…” I said.
Cathy left and I slipped on the nightie. It was warm, where it touched my skin, which I didn’t expect. I thought the lace knickers would be scratchy and uncomfortable but they were smooth on the inside and touched my skin so lightly that they almost felt like they weren’t there. I shuddered, suddenly overcome by the sheer sensuous pleasure of wearing these pretty clothes and my willy started to stiffen. I remembered that I would have to go out and face my work colleagues, who might have their cameras out (on their phones) with no makeup and this short clingy night dress and the problem went away.

I wrapped the dressing gown thing that Cathy had called a ‘peignoir‘ around me and tied the ribbon tie in a bow at the side. Unlike the towelling dressing gown I was used to this was not opaque, not warm and it did more to frame my nightclothes than cover me up.

I cleaned my teeth and returned to the kitchen, walking softly on bare feet. The girls were talking as I slipped in…
“... damn if he isn’t the prettiest girl among us!” Claire said.
“Not the sexiest, but the camera loves her” said Becky.
“You’re a very lucky lady!” Fiona said to Jordan.
“I think Bobbi will feel that she is the lucky one, if you give me half a chance!” said Jordan.
“Please, go slow Jordan” Cathy warned “I think Bobbi is going to find things very strange tomorrow and it may cause….Oh! Sorry sweetie, I didn’t see you there!”
I had been discovered.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you… What do you think it might cause?” I asked.
“Hmmm? Oh… yes, sorry, talking about you without bringing you in on the conversation. I was just going to warn Jordan not to break your heart, dear!”
“Grrr, that’s NOT what you were going to say!” I answered hotly.
“Oh my god! You are so CUTE when you get angry! I may have to tease you. A lot” said Jordan.
“Cathy?” I said, as I waited for a reply.
“I know it’s a big deal for most men, dressing like a woman. I’m sure it will cause… ripples?” Cathy said. She sounded vague, lame and apologetic at the end.
“Ripples?” I said flatly.
Becky jumped in with both feet, “When you turn up looking like you went from an underdeveloped boy to a stacked Lolita it’s likely to be noticed! You are gorgeous as a woman and that will change how people react to you and, most likely, how you will react to them.”
“It’s one day in drag, what’s the big deal?” I said “Can’t we just say it’s for charity or something? Justin wore a pink dress for Breast Cancer that day and no one thinks he’s… anything.”
“Anything?” Cathy asked.
“I don’t know, gay, trans, weird, whatever!” I said hotly “I wear women’s clothes for a laugh for a few hours and people are trying to pigeon-hole me!”
“Oh.” said Jordan, like someone had stolen her ice-cream “This isn’t a permanent thing?”
She had the strangest expression, half mocking, like she was in on the joke that we were playing on the rest of the world and half wistful, hoping she would convince me to become her lesbian playmate.
“So” I said, desperately changing the subject “ You still think I look pretty without the makeup?”
I posed slightly in the green lingerie, casting my eyes downwards, shyly.
“Oh yes! My pretty peach blossom.” Jordan said, leering at me, “very nice!”
“You are a pretty, pretty Princess” said Becky tiredly, “So, can the rest of us get ready for bed now?”
Cathy said “My dibs on the bathroom first! Bobbi, go on up to bed, dear, you must be exhausted.”
I kissed Jordan goodnight, then headed up to bed. I don't remember taking off the peignoir, I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

A Christmas Party - part 3


Bob gets invited to his office's Christmas Party. His colleagues convince him that life is more fun in a dress.

Christmas Party 3

I can't remember the details of my dreams but they were pink and sparkly - full of giggles, glitter, sparkling wine and long smooth legs.
I awoke to an unfamiliar tune on a mobile phone and an arm draped around my body as someone was spooned against my back.

“Wha?...” Cathy groaned. Clearly she wasn't a morning person. Her hand groped around my chest (thankfully stuck on, things could've gotten awkward if they were real), face and finally the bedside cabinet next to my head where the phone was playing a merry tune.
“Bobbi?” Cathy's voice asked a little unsteadily after she stopped the alarm.
“Yes, Cathy?” I answered brightly. I'm not normally a morning person but I could feel adrenaline stirring me unusually this morning a combination of nerves and excitement. I had no idea what I was going to do today.
“Not a dream, then?” Cathy said, I'm not sure if she was asking me or herself.

I slipped out of bed. As I stood up I, there is no delicate way to put this, unconsciously went to 'adjust myself’ as I do most mornings.
Finding my equipment wrapped in sheer lace and my body wrapped in disheveled satin gave me a sensual thrill that my body interpreted in a very sexual manner. I let out an involuntary groan as my manhood suddenly became painfully tight within the knickers. I was shocked at the strength of that feeling. Cathy was slightly taken aback, as well.
“Well, I guess you are pleased to see me this morning!” she joked.
I was mortified, but the extreme embarrassment didn't have the desired effect, if anything the humiliation made the problem more acute.

Cathy saw my discomfort and with a grin she pointed me to the bathroom.
“Go and have a shower and take care of that thing. I'll go make some tea for us and meet you back here in 15 minutes to make a start…” she said. She tossed me the peignoir and I hurried awkwardly to the bathroom.

I'm too embarrassed to describe what I felt or what I did in the bathroom that morning, and I'm sure most of you don't want the sordid details anyway. Those of you who do want details, why don't you get a satin nighty and some knickers and try it for yourself? You may find out something unexpected about yourself, like I did.

I love dressing in women's clothing.

Afterwards, when I had showered and cleaned my teeth, I inspected myself. There wasn't much that was out of place, but I found a new disposable razor (that was pink!) and shaved my face as closely as I could. I couldn't see any stubble, but it felt smoother afterwards. Being blonde means my stubble doesn't show too much.

I left the nightie and knickers in the wash basket and headed back to Cathy's bedroom with the green sheer peignoir wrapped round me. It felt a little uncomfortable because my skin and hair were still a little damp and it stuck to me in an odd way.

Cathy caught me as she was coming up the stairs and I was on the landing.
“Oh no! That's all kinds of wrong! Get back in the bathroom!” she told me.
We went back in and she put the two mugs of tea down by the sink.
She struggled to find space as there were so many brushes and tubes and stuff around it.
Cathy took a large towel and a smaller towel from the cupboard on the landing and wrapped one round my body and one round my hair (yes I had to take the peignoir off).
She took the tea, got me to take the gown and we headed back to her room.

There she sat me down in front of a vanity on a chair, unwrapped the towel around my head and blow-dried my hair. She kept up some kind of conversation, but it was quite one-sided because I could barely hear her over the woosh of the drier and the pleasure of having someone fussing with my hair was incredibly soporific.
Before too long she had finished and I was woken up with a shock.
“C’mon, off with the towel, then” Cathy said brightly.
“Do you often ask men to strip naked in your bedroom?” I asked, cheekily.
“If I see a man in this room, you can be sure he will soon be naked!” Cathy laughed “Now c'mon! We haven't got time to face around!”

Despite leaving the 'spanx’ that Lucy gave me off all night, one of my testicles was still up inside my body, which was an odd feeling. But not as odd as trying to find the way to pop the other one back in. It's kind of hard to describe… Cathy got me to lie on my back, naked, legs bent at the knees and raised while it tried to find the tube inside my body to gently coax my testicles back into. Have you ever seen those finger trap mesh tube things? It feels a bit like trying to squeeze a large grape into one of those. It was kind of satisfying when it nestled into place but a bit nerve wracking and uncomfortable while I was trying to find the right way to do it. With my boss trying to help. Awkward. And humiliating.

Still, once I'd done that and tugged the spanx into place a new confidence filled me. No one would believe I was a guy. If anyone could see me like this, almost naked as I was, they would know that I was female.

What a strange thing to give me confidence.

Cathy handed me a matching set of bra and panties in a pink lace and I slipped them on, she adjusted the straps on the bra and I felt even more girly. She showed me how to put the tights on, although I could probably have figured it out for myself. The waistband of the tights came up well above the waistband of my knickers. The tights were opaque and a dark brown colour, not quite black. All the while we were doing this Cathy and I were talking softly. I couldn't tell you what we said, it was kind of a background buzz, soothing my nerves as she talked me through putting on the unfamiliar clothing.

She sat me down and draped a towel around my shoulders. She got me to position the chair so the light was on my face and she started putting makeup on me. She explained each step as she went, foundation, blusher eyeliner, mascara. Eyeliner was scary, but mascara was scarier, as she got me to keep my eyes open without blinking as she waved a black bristled brush millimetres from my eyeball.
Cathy primped me and painted me, it felt nice to have someone look after me and pamper me like that.

Eventually she said “That'll do, for now. Let's get you dressed!”
She handed me a dusky pink suit on hangers, a blouse…
“Oh! You'll need a slip with that skirt and those tights!” she exclaimed and she hurried to a chest of drawers and got a white satiny-looking skirt thing.
Cathy said “I've got to start getting myself ready! Will you be alright getting that on? Oh! Shoes! Size 6?”
“I think so” I replied.
She grabbed some shoes from the bottom of the wardrobe and put them by the bed, without another word she grabbed a few bits and ran from the room. I heard the bathroom door click shut with a very positive click and some muffled cursing that sounded like Becky.

I decided to put on the slip, blouse, skirt and jacket - in that order. I tried the shoes on and they were a surprisingly good fit. They were black lace ups with a slight heel, classic and conservative. I looked in the cupboard where Cathy had found them. There were some boots, which looked interesting and some court shoes and strappy sandals. I did think about trying something else on, but I wasn't sure what Cathy would think. Before I could make up my mind, Cathy rushed back into the room and did all the things to herself that had taken her an hour in about three minutes. She didn't need to dry her hair, apparently, and she knew where everything was.

“Accessories!” She cried “What have you been doing while I was washing?”
“Looking at your boots…” I replied.
“Yeah, such a girl!” Cathy laughed “Right, girly, what bag shall we give you?”
It was clearly a rhetorical question.

Cathy tossed me a necklace and a watch and went to look in the top of her wardrobe. She grabbed a large floppy black leather handbag and started stuffing things in it.

I put the necklace on, but I didn't bother with the watch. I always used the clock on my phone.
I saw Cathy was putting tampons and sanitary towels in the bag. I guess they were some sort of protective camouflage. She also threw in a purse, my phone and a bunch of other things from the bag I had last night.

“Right!” she said, as she handed me the bag “Normally I would have a cup of tea and go, but I don’t think we will have time… you really want to get in early today, I think.”
“Why would today be differ… oh, right...But...why do I want to be early?” I asked.
“Do you want to walk past everyone, as the five minute wonder, dressed like that?” Cathy asked.
“Well...I don’t think many people would recognise me, they barely recognised me when I was dressed as a guy!” I said.
“Hmm, that may have been true before, but now? I think you have a rude awakening when you realise just how much extra scrutiny women are under in the workplace. Plus, you are pretty, which is going to make people’s view suddenly become much more polarised. You are going to make all the men, and maybe some of the women, question their own sexuality, and yours, and that kind of thing tends to make people… volatile, from experience.” Cathy said.
“From experience? You’ve employed transvestites before?” I asked, a little snidely.
“Transvestite? Where did that come from?” Cathy asked.
“Isn’t that the word for a man who dresses like a woman? I’m sure Eddie Izzard said that’s what he was, when he explained it?” I said.
“Hmm, I think it may be a little early to start trying to name what it is that you are doing...Let’s just call it ‘a laugh’ for now and get through the day?” Cathy said.
I nodded and Cathy urged me out the door. We went downstairs to find almost everyone else was dressed and ready to go. They all had mugs of tea. I know Cathy had prepared us drinks but I hadn’t had time to drink mine, and neither had she, I think.

“Right, she finally makes a showing, let’s look at you then!” said Becky.
I did a hokey little pirouette, as I turned I wondered where Jordan was. I really wanted to see her face and know what she thought of this outfit, and me in this outfit. She arrived behind me as I finished my turn and wolf-whistled.
“Wow, is that ‘office Barbie’ my girlfriend?” she asked, with a cheeky grin.

She was wearing a more casual outfit, still with a skirt, as Fiona had said, we were both so much taller than her that her trousers would have looked odd on us. But, where I was wearing tights, Jordan had knee high socks with pink ribbon bows on the top and mary-janes with a heel, a short denim skirt and a tank top and cropped hoodie. She looked like a porn-star pretending to be a school girl.
“It’s classic.” I said simply.
“Yeah, I think you got the better end of the deal, Fiona chose this for me, it’s not my normal style.” Jordan said.
“Well, the taxi will be here any second, so you better say your goodbyes.” Claire said.

Jordan and I checked that we had each other’s numbers on our phones then Jordan grabbed me and kissed me the same way she had last night.

Cathy broke us up after less than a minute.
“Thanks, Jordan, now you’ve messed up the makeup I spent all morning on!” Cathy said
Jordan said “Sorry, not sorry!”
Claire giggled.

Cathy fished out the lipstick she had used earlier from my bag and helped me touch it up. Jordan took a mirror from her bag and did the same.

The doorbell rang and Cathy started ushering us all out of the house, including Jordan.
“Are you going to be alright?” I asked Jordan “Do you need us to drop you somewhere?”
“I’m alright,” she said “one of the lads from the garage is already on his way.”
“I thought you said they weren’t working?” I said.
“No. I said I wasn’t working! One of the perks of the owner being my Dad!” Jordan said with a chuckle.
“Come on!” said Cathy “Unless you want to walk, get your cute little ass in the flippin’ taxi!”
“Bye!” I said to Jordan as I hurried to get in.
“Bye sweetie!” she said.
Becky slammed the door and we were off, I could see Jordan with her arms wrapped around herself shivering as we drove off.

“What about my car?” I asked Cathy.
“Becky will give you a lift to pick it up tonight, if you want.” Cathy said. Becky nodded as she said this.
“Are you sure you want to drive while you’re dressed like this?” asked Fiona.
“Whyever not?” I asked.
“Well, I’m pretty sure the photo on your driving licence doesn’t look anything like you now!” said Becky.
“Does anyone’s driving licence photo look like them?” I asked.
Everyone chuckled and shook their heads.
“Anyway,” I carried on “it’s not as though it’s illegal to wear womens’ clothes, otherwise half of you would have been arrested by now!”
“Technically true” Cathy agreed “but not everyone will see it that way. Nevermind, call me if it happens and we’ll rally political support for you!”
“Political support?” I asked.
“Oh yeah,” said Becky “we can get them to release you or sue them for trans-phobia and whatnot!”
“I'm not a political activist or militant transvestite, I'm just trying to make it through the day and get these tits off so I can get back to normal!” I said.
“Yeah, I'm not sure any of us are buying that. You look too comfortable and you pass too well for that to be the end of it. Plus, I'm pretty sure your lesbian girlfriend will have something to say about whether you end up wearing girls' clothes or not!” Claire said.
I couldn't really argue with that. The comment about me looking so natural, as a girl, should have been an insult but it sparked a small glow of vanity and pride. Damn it, I did look good like this!

-x-x-

The journey to work didn't take long at all. I think we could have walked it. But maybe not in heels.
We got out of the taxi as Cathy paid. Cathy hissed at me as I tried to climb down “Bobbi, dear...keep your knees together!”
Oops. I blushed. Not that anyone could see anything, there was more material between my nether-regions and the outside world than I normally wore, but it was the appearance that counted.

We came into the reception and went to go our separate ways. I had a bit of a moment when I couldn't think where my door pass was, but everyone else was reaching into their handbags and it struck me where it might at be.
It took a little hunting, but I found it in my purse and went to let myself through. Cathy was waiting for me, which I was grateful for. But so was Becky.

“I think you should come with me now and we’ll sort you out a new ID card.” Becky said.
“I don’t think I need a new ID card for one day, surely!” I protested.
“You may as well humour her.” Cathy said “It won’t take more than a few minutes and it will give you a story to tell your grandchildren!”
“Sure, I guess we have a few minutes before the crowd get here. Let’s go.” I said. I realised when I was fighting a losing battle. Now, more than ever, my life was in the hands of my line manager and HR. I guess I never really stopped to think how much soft power these people held over me until I was walking into HR in a pink skirt suit.

Still, it didn’t appear that Becky was out to humiliate me, or anything. In fact, she took the best ID photo that I ever had in my life. It didn’t look like me (when do they ever) it looked better than me. I had a gentle smile and dewey lips. Wow.

I hurried back to the IT department with my new ID card round my neck on one of the lanyards that all of the other girls used. Some of the guys used them and some had their ID clipped to their belt. I used to have a belt clip.

It was only when I was halfway back that I realised I had left my old ID in HR. Oh well, I thought to myself, I could always get another one.

I got back to my desk to find a cup of coffee waiting for me. Cathy smiled as I sat down opposite her.
“Ready for the standup?” she asked me.
“There's no chance of skipping it for a day?” I asked, trying not to whine.
“I think you would only paint a target on your back. Don't let them smell fear, own this and they will back down first, I'm sure. Or… I hesitate to suggest this, it's a weapon of last resort…” she paused dramatically “you could always try crying. Men hate making a pretty girl cry!”
“Thanks for the advice, I am gaining valuable insight into how 'the other half’ operates.” I said.
“Yeah, pity for you it's not so much 'the other half’ now and more other girls.” Cathy retorted “Anyway, time to do this…”

She stood up and I, and the rest of the development team, went into 'Meeting Room 1’ for our morning meeting. I followed immediately behind her, with the rest of the team coming in behind me as they saw Cathy go in to the meeting room. These meetings were so much a part of our daily routine now that there was no need for any kind of announcement.

As I went over to stand next to Cathy I was vaguely aware of some of the guys asking each other ‘who the new girl’ was. I wasn’t too worried, I had our boss and HR on my side, I thought.

Cathy started “Ok, some of you have noticed the new girl in the room, some of the more observant of you may have noticed Bob Smith isn’t with us today. I’ve spoken with Ms Smith about why she is dressed this way today and I understand and applaud her reasons. Let that be an end to it and please, don’t give her a hard time about it unless you are prepared for me to give you a very hard time in return! I don’t want to hear any more about this. Mark, you can start…”

And with that the meeting was off to a start and no one dared say a word. It was bizarre. I stood there straight-backed with my head held high next to Cathy and none of the guys would meet my eyes. Several took sideways looks at my legs, ass and tits - they were guys after all.

After the meeting was over and we had all gone round the table in turn and briefly discussed what we did yesterday and what we would be doing today everybody returned to their desks as if everything was normal.

It all felt, bizarrely, normal.

I went to get my first coffee of the morning and I offered to get Cathy one too. Kieran looked like he was trying to gather the courage to make some sarky comment that could have been career-limiting, given Cathy's comments earlier. He saw Cathy watching me as I went towards the kitchen and, apparently, thought better of what he was going to say.

Mark was in the kitchen when I got there. There was an awkward silence between us. I’d often been a little tongue-tied around Mark, he was… imposing, I guess. Everything masculine that I wasn’t, tall, lean with dark hair and muscles and perpetual stubble. He always looked just a little bit disreputable, even though he was genuinely a nice guy. Normally Mark was outgoing where I was shy and we got along ok. Now, there was a tension in the air, I’m not sure what it was. He seemed… nervous?

I said "Hi”, and went to make my drinks.
He took a step back and let me get on with it. He was stood behind me while I was getting the coffee from the cupboard over the sink. Someone came in as I was stretching up to get the coffee, even with the heels I was wearing I was still too short to reach it easily. I saw Dave coming in as I glanced round at the noise of the door and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mark look away with a strange expression on his face. He almost looked like he was starting to blush.

I said “Hi” to Dave and hurried to get back to making the drinks. I glanced round at Mark again and that was when I figured it out. Oh shit, he was checking me out! Judging by the slight bulge in his crotch and the way he was looking he really liked the way I looked now
.
I wasn't sure how I felt about a guy I knew adding me to his 'wank bank’, but my body seemed to come alive. My breath was a little short and I stood a little straighter without any conscious thought. Did I fancy Mark now? That was a disturbing thought as I realised what was happening.

Dave asked “So, is this a permanent change?”
“It started as a kind of dare gone wrong, but the longer I'm stuck like this, the more natural it feels” I admitted, probably over-sharing.
I picked up my mugs, ready to head for the door.

Mark moved forward to carry on making his drinks his hand brushed my back as he moved to step around me and his touch startled me so that I nearly spilled my drinks.

I headed back to my desk with my mind whirling. How was I going to get through the day like this if every chance meeting became a minefield of sexual tension?

I gave a mental shrug. It was bound to be weird at first, I guess. If any of the other men in the office had come in wearing women's clothes before now, I'm pretty sure I would have stared. I don't think I would have been turned on, though. That was just weird. But my response to it was normal, we all like to be admired, right?

As the rest of the day went on I increasingly forgot about how I was dressed. The first time I got up to go to the loo Cathy reminded me to go to the ladies.
“I'll come with you, just to check the coast is clear.” she said.

She ushered me to the ladies, I wasn't sure what the problem was with me going in a cubicle in the Gents loo, but Cathy put her foot down when I suggested it saying it would be too much of a distraction.

There aren't too many women on our floor so I wasn't too bothered when Cathy ushered me in. I was more bothered when she took the cubicle next to me and… well, you know...went.
It took me longer to get the layers down than it took her, so, when I finished she was waiting for me by the sink. I could hear her washing her hands while I was peeing, which was kind of distracting. But I was so relieved when I released myself that I managed to go anyway.
She'd made me take my bag, which I thought was weird. When I came out she got me to wash my hands first (I was insulted, I am always very fastidious about that) then she took my bag and helped me “freshen up” my lipstick. She impressed on me the need to check myself in the mirror before heading out and to check my knickers were up with no paper and my skirt was down and not tucked in my knickers and I didn't have anything stuck to my shoe.
“This is why women go to the toilet in groups?” I asked.
“On dates? Don't be silly, we go to share jokes about the guys.” Cathy said.
“I have a lot to learn.” I replied.
“Oh?” Cathy's ears pricked up “You've decided to come over to the pink side?”
“Er… I'm not sure that's entirely my choice. Jordan seems to have some strong views!” I said.
“Yes, she is a very...forthright lady,” Cathy said, “but you only met her last night! Most guys wouldn't…” she tailed off as I gave her a flat stare.
“Most guys wouldn't let their bosses talk them into dressing as a girl and going into work? Are you calling me a 'girly-boy’?” I said, fiercely, but in a higher pitched voice than usual.
Cathy cracked up, she was still laughing as she led me out of the toilets. We nearly bumped into Joyce as she was coming in.
“Oh!” she said, doing a double-take as she failed to recognise me. Then the penny dropped.
“Bob?!” she said “What on Earth are you doing in here?! And dressed like that?!”
“Company policy, Joyce, if you are presenting as a woman, you use the women's toilets. Check with HR.” Cathy said, as she led me away “c'mon, Bobbi, back to work!”
I made a little fingertip wave to Joyce and mouthed “Sorry!” to her as we went. Joyce stood in the doorway of the toilets gaping like a goldfish.

I got back to my desk and settled down to code. I had a few questions for Cathy about 30 minutes later, I didn't think anything of it, but she seemed, nicer, somehow. More relaxed and forthcoming and willing to explain things.
About 30 minutes after that I'd finished the thing I was working on and I decided to take the opportunity to discuss it with the end-user who created the original request.
I spoke with Cathy about it and she thought it was a great idea to get some early feedback so I rang Brian, explained that I was the developer working on his issue and asked if I could talk with him about it. Brian agreed, somewhat grumpily, I thought. I grabbed my laptop and set off to find him.

The girl sat at the desk near the door in the finance team was lovely, she pointed me in the right direction then led me over to introduce me to Brian. Brian was a senior accountant and I expected him to be a bit dry, but I didn't expect him to be so rude.
“Yes? What is it, girl? I'm a busy man you know!” he said.
“Er, I'm Bobbi, the developer, we spoke on the phone?” I said. I wasn't sure I had the right guy, he didn't seem like someone finally getting what he'd asked for.
“Are you an intern or something? Didn't they have a real programmer?” he said.
“Well, that's very flattering that you think I look so young. You know what they say: ‘if you want something done on a computer, give to someone young’” I said.
“And I suppose you think I'm too old and set in my ways to use a computer?!” he snapped.
“Huh?” I did a double-take, how did this get to be about him? “I'm sorry, we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. How about I just show you what I have for you?”
“Very well…” he said, and just sat there waiting with his arms crossed as I setup.
Fortunately I'd set everything up ready to demonstrate on my laptop, the WiFi connection worked seamlessly, for once, and because I'd just been writing the code, and I'd had the foresight to run through the demo twice, everything worked flawlessly and I side-stepped one or two areas written by other developers that I knew weren't 'ready for primetime’ yet, so I didn't distract the user with irrelevancies.

Brian insisted on looking at these irrelevant bits, though. He called me a stupid girl (under his breath) because I couldn't answer questions about areas that were completely outside what I was working on. He even called me names when I tried to defend my colleagues who weren't there to answer his vitriol. In short, he was mean to me. I felt my eyes begin to blur at the injustice of this dinosaur making up BS to make me feel bad. What the hell?!

I made my excuses and left, fled would be more accurate.. I caught the eye of the girl I spoke to on the way in and the pity in her eyes, even with the smile of solidarity, almost finished me.
I made it to the loos before I lost it. I wept to myself quietly for a few minutes. All the while I had flashbacks to how I should have spoken to Brian. Comebacks and put downs. At the same time I despised myself for being weak. Mostly for letting the side down. I was too pathetic to be a girl. I always had this reaction to injustice and unwarranted criticism that I couldn't respond to. It made me furious and embarrassed in equal measure that I couldn't keep a lid on my emotions and they just boiled over sometimes. But, how had Brian pushed my buttons like that? Normally only my Mum could get that kind of response from me.

I came out of the cubicle and surveyed the wreckage of my face in the mirror. Shit.
There was nothing I could do, I didn't have the tools or the knowledge to repair this level of damage. I rang Cathy, hating myself for being this pathetic.
“Cathy?...” I said tentatively.
“Oh my god! What's wrong?” Cathy said.
Did I really sound so pathetic that she could tell over the phone?
“Aw hell… Brian was mean to me and I started crying and now I'm stuck in the loos on the second floor looking like someone from Kiss. Can you help me patch up the damage?” I asked.
“I’ll be right there” Cathy said and the phone went dead.

A short while later I heard the door to the loos open and someone walked in, I came out of the cubicle to find, not Cathy, but the girl who had directed me to Brian.
“Oh!” she said, when she saw my face.
“I know, I must look a fright...it’s so silly, it’s just been a kind of emotional roller-coaster of a day and Brian…” I sighed “He pushed my buttons, I guess. I let him get under my skin, I don’t know why, I’m not normally like this…” I trailed off.
“No. You’re normally a guy, right?” she said as she held out her hand “Hi, I’m Karen, I’m so sorry about Brian”.

Just then, Cathy came in, she took one look at my face and stepped over to sweep me into a hug. I felt another pair of arms round my neck and before I knew it I was in a group hug in the ladies toilets.

Cathy took charge, in a 'no nonsense’ way, all “no point worrying over spilled milk” and “the best way to show him is to look amazing” the aphorisms coming thick and fast.
Karen was much more conciliatory, “I don't know how you kept it together, he was horrible to you” she said, as she redid my makeup.
Did I mention that Karen was beautiful? If I had been in a suit, single and not in the ladies loos I would have been compelled to make an ass of myself trying to get her attention. I think she was probably a natural beauty, she had great bone-structure, high cheekbones and wide-set eyes. But, in addition to that she had flawless makeup, slightly overdone for my test, but she was clearly an artist. When I looked in the mirror it took my breath away. When I had come into work this morning I had a 'girl next door, at the office’ kind of look. Now I looked like a classy, elegant Ice Queen. I sucked my cheeks in slightly, to see the effect. Wow. I looked like a Karen in training.
“Oh yes, now that's the face we show to Brian!” Cathy enthused.
“It's nearly lunchtime” Karen said “Why don't you give me five minutes and come up and meet me for lunch? I'm pretty sure Brian will feel sorry for ever giving you cause to disdain his company!” She gave a feral grin that was slightly disturbing on such a pretty face.
“Thank you so much, Karen. It looks amazing. You've been so kind…” I said.
“...But you're wondering why a complete stranger would help a transvestite she doesn't know?” Karen filled in.
“Well, I wouldn't have put it that way but...yes” I said meekly.
“You have chosen a hard path. The fact that you're pretty won't make it any easier, we women have got to learn to stick together!” Karen said firmly.
“Here, here!” said Cathy. She held out her hand to Karen and they solemnly shook on it.
We all trooped out of the toilets and Cathy and I went to get our coats.
I said to Cathy in a bewildered whisper “Karen said I was pretty?”
“And now she made you beautiful, sweetie!” said Cathy.

A Christmas Party - part 4


Bob gets invited to his office's Christmas Party. His colleagues convince him that life is more fun in a dress.

In this part; Brian gets snubbed and Bobbi has lunch with the ladies.

A Christmas Party - part 4

When Cathy and I trooped back up to see Karen we found her talking softly to Brian. His face was sour. There was a moment of malevolent glee when he saw me first, followed by confusion when he saw we had our coats, more confusion when he realised my boss was with me and… a really odd and creepy look when he took in the face Karen had painted on me.

I gritted my teeth and smiled sweetly at Brian as I asked Karen if she was ready to go to lunch.
Karen answered “I'll just grab my coat…” at the same moment as Brian said “I could do with a break!”
“Oh, I'm sorry, I think you misunderstood” I told Brian, fake sympathy pouring from my lips “We don't have a spare seat, we're going for a 'girls only’ lunch, no boys allowed!”
Brian swallowed his disappointment and embarrassment at being snubbed.
“Ah well.. I guess I'll just 'hold the fort’' then!”
“Yes, hold that thought” said Cathy, which left him looking more confused.

“Let's get out of here!!” Karen said, and we left, giggling to each other at nothing.
When we got to the stairs Karen said “Did you see his face? That was priceless!”
“Are we going to give Becky, Claire and Fiona a call?” I asked.
“Fine by me…” Karen said.
“Are you ok with going to the 'Newt and Cucumber'?” Cathy asked.
We both replied “Sure!” and nodded. Cathy got out her phone and explained the plan to Becky as we walked up the hill into town and the pub. Karen and I chatted with each other as Cathy walked a little behind us and talked on the phone. Karen was really lovely, not stuck up at all, despite my impression when I'd seen her from afar when I'd joined the company. I guess that might have been because I was dressed as a guy then. Karen was very down-to-earth and matter-of-fact, she asked me how long I'd known I was a girl?

Cathy had just hung up on Becky and she was clearly interested in the answer, too.
I tried to work it out with my fingers…
“Er… about… 12….. yeah, 12 hours. If you take out time I was asleep...6 hours? I think, roughly, that I've been dressed like this...well, not like this, I only put this outfit on this morning. Lucy glued my boobs on about...9? 9 o'clock, yesterday evening” I said. I looked at Cathy for confirmation and she nodded and gave me a quick smile. It suddenly hit me, yesterday evening I'd been a normal guy heading out for a normal-ish evening out. I almost felt like I couldn't remember my old life anymore. I couldn't connect myself emotionally with the person I had been 24 hours ago.

Karen's jaw dropped but she recovered quickly.
“I find that hard to believe that you didn't have an inkling… you look and act in such a feminine way now.” she said.
“I know, right,” Cathy chipped in “we dressed him in his girlfriend's dress for a laugh, I think the joke is on us, we've created a monster!”
“Girlfriend? What does she make of your crossdressing?” Karen asked.
“I can honestly say, she's fine with it…” I said.
“Actively encourages it, actually…” Cathy chipped in.
“To be frank, I'm not sure she'd look twice at me if I lost these boobs” I hefted my girls to underscore the point.
“So… she's a lesbian?” Karen asked?
“Sort of, it's complicated. I think I pushed some buttons she wasn't previously aware of”. I said.
“She watches Bobbi like a cat watches a salmon fillet, it's disturbing” Cathy said.

We got to the pub and it was heaving. We found a table far from the bar and sat down. I looked at the menu and realised that you could connect to the WiFi in the pub and order a meal without leaving the table. I grabbed my phone from my handbag (I experienced one of those odd double-takes where I was doing something that yesterday would have been virtually unthinkable, i.e. carrying a handbag, and today seemed a perfectly natural consequence of not having functional pockets).

My IT skills were undiminished by wearing a skirt and I had connected to the free WiFi and downloaded the pub's app in about as long as it took to say it. I looked at the menu in the same way as the others did and I'd ordered my lunch before Karen and Cathy had finished deciding what they would have.

I explained to Cathy what I had done, Cathy was intrigued but Karen wanted to pay cash so the two of them headed to the bar to order their food, I stayed at the table to guard the table and our coats. The pub was so busy that it took them a long time to work their way to the front of the queue and place their orders. Becky and Claire arrived while Cathy and Karen were away. I explained about the online ordering. To underscore how effective it was someone bought out my drink and meal as Cathy and Karen got back to the table while I was still explaining the app to Becky and Claire. The upshot was, I had to show them how to download and use the app instead of tucking into my meal. Then Fiona turned up and I had to explain to her as well, and load the app for her.

So, even though my meal turned up first (by far) it wasn't long after I started eating that everyone else's food arrived.
Mine was a little cooler than I would have liked by the time I started eating, but it was still edible.

The conversation around the table was very lively and there was a lot of laughing. We were all drinking soft drinks but getting louder as we finished eating.
No one was making a big deal out of me being there, no one pointed out what a freak I was. I got a little teasing about my girlfriend, but so did Karen (who knew she was a lesbian? I hadn't realised) and Becky got teased about her string of men. I held back a little, at first, not wanting to show myself up. But all the girls sucked me into the various conversations that were going on, they asked my opinion on things (boys, makeup, programming languages and politics) and shared their views. By the time we had finished eating, which took longer than normal, it was time to head back to work and I had a warm fuzzy feeling that I was with friends.

We clattered back to work in our heels, talking loudly over each other and laughing at Karen's impression of Brian's 'shocked' face.

Cathy steered Becky and me into the ladies loos downstairs while the rest headed upstairs. Karen gave me a hug as she went.

I said to Cathy "But I don't need the loo!"
"Silly girl, you need to check your face! The wind could have blown your hair askew, you might have spinach in your teeth, anything could have happened while you were out and distracted!" Cathy said.
"Huh?" was my reply.
"Becky, back me up here?" Cathy said.
"It's a good idea" Becky agreed "It's not a rule, but… women are held to a higher standard of appearance…"
"Really?" I interrupted, "Including Dasha in call handling? She was wearing wet-look leggings and a t-shirt that said 'I'm here, now what are your other two wishes?'"
Becky said "Yes, but she's young, Czech, and she has the attitude to pull off that look. Plus, her hair was looking good, even if it was dyed scarlet, and everything was clean and fit properly. Think about Ben or Dave…"
"Or Brian!" Cathy chipped in.
I had to admit, they had a point. All three of their examples were guys who were relatively senior and were complete slobs. Ben wore a polo shirt to work every day, you could tell which one of his three shirts he wore by the faded pattern of the foodstains in it and they were all grey now, rather than white. Brian wore a suit and tie, but it was obvious he hadn't bought a new one in years and he had put on a fair amount of weight since they had been bought. Dave just looked perpetually scruffy, his hair never seems to have seen a comb and his clothes always seemed to be disheveled in some way.
Thinking about the women in the company… I'd never really thought about it before, but they did seem to hold themselves to a higher standard than the men.

"I guess you're right" I allowed "but it's a self-imposed standard, though?"
Becky snorted, Cathy shook her head and said "Oh you poor innocent child, what will you do when you learn about the double standard?"
"Oh!" I said "I've heard about that! It's when, if a girl sleeps around she's a slut and if a guy does it he's a hero?... That doesn't seem very fair?"
"Ha! A girl for one day and she already has some insight!" Becky said.
"But it's not just men that hold you to that standard" I said, thinking aloud "Other women judge you, too - and you judge them! You were bitching about Jordan last night!"
"...and you were right there with us" said Cathy "it's one of the reasons we thought you'd make a good girl, you fit right in!"
"But…" I struggled to understand "that means you're like… like slaves to a system where you are expected to make your own chains and share them with the other slaves!"
"Well… I wouldn't go that far, but there is something to what you're saying." Cathy said.
"It's hard, letting go of all the habits of a lifetime" said Becky, "plus, it's _So_ much fun to slag off the skanks!"
"But… don't you have shared experiences of discrimination and a common enemy?" I asked.
"Well, yes, when you put it like that. But… some of those 'enemies' are _very_ friendly enemies. And the skanks are in competition for the nicest enemies, with cutest bums and the biggest…" Becky paused, waiting for us to insert our own word in her sentence… "smiles" she concluded, clearly meaning another word.
"So, it's complicated?" I asked.
"For women, who are born with all the bits, yes. For you, it's a lot worse than that, I'm afraid." Cathy said. "I worry that this has got out of hand and your life is about to get a lot more complicated". She looked a little sad as she said this.
"Yeah, I guess some women would see you as both the enemy and the competition at the same time. To say nothing of how most guys would see you as competition at best and a trap at worst…" said Becky.
"I've never really understood that whole 'trap' thing" Cathy said to Becky "How is being trans a 'trap'?"
"I don't know, some kind of ass-backward victim-shaming? When a 'straight' guy finds he's attracted to cute guys he beats them up and blames them to show how straight he is?" Becky answered.
I look horrified.
"Beaten up for being a girl?" I said.
"Yeah, guys beat up girls all the time to show how butch they are." Becky said.
"Not just trans girls, either." Cathy said.
"Not all guys, surely? Not even most guys? Surely it's just a few psychos?" I said.
"Most guys, if you push them far enough, resort to physical or emotional violence against women, I think." said Becky.
"Anyway, enough chat, back to work!" said Cathy, gesturing to the door.

-0-0-

The rest of the afternoon rolled by. Being dressed like I was starting to feel normal. No one made any comment about it. I guess after Cathy's pronouncement that morning, nobody dared to say anything.

It got to 5pm and the normal early birds started to leave. I went round to Cathy, got her attention and asked quietly, hoping no one would listen in to our conversation "So, what's the plan this evening, then".
"Oh, I forgot to call Becky!" Cathy replied "Hold on, let's call her now…"
She picked up her phone and started to dial.
"Becky? Are you still ok to drop Bobbi off at the hotel to collect her car?" Cathy said, then paused for the reply, "Great, we'll meet you down there at 5:30, thanks!"
Cathy listened to the reply, then she put the phone down and turned to me.
"Alright, Becky will give you a lift to the hotel, it's on the way for her because she normally takes the motorway… What are your plans? Are you going to pick up your stuff from the hotel? Didn't Jordan leave your shirt and trousers with Julie? Don't you need the solution for the glue, as well? Who are you going to get to help you?" Cathy asked.
I gaped for a moment, I hadn't really been thinking about what I would have to do, both to get home and after I got home.
"Err… I don't know… I hadn't really thought that far ahead… I was going to call Jordan and ask if she wanted to hang out this weekend and then try and make it back to guy-hood ready for Monday morning…" I said with an odd sinking feeling in the pot of my stomach.
"You don't want it to be over, do you?" Cathy asked, softly. She wasn't really asking the question, more stating the obvious fact.
"No… no, I don't. I know it's just a lark, but… something about this just feels… right, somehow. Like… I've never noticed before, but I was a girl all along… I can't explain it…" I said.
"I think you just did explain it." Cathy said simply, "I think you have a lot to think over this weekend, don't you?"
I just stared blankly for a moment. Was this what I wanted? What on Earth was I thinking? What could I do?

A Christmas Party - part 5


Bob gets invited to his office's Christmas Party. His colleagues convince him that life is more fun in a dress.

In this part; Bobbi finds it's not so easy to give up being female and he gets to meet Jordan's father.

I convinced Cathy to come with Becky and me when Becky dropped me off to pick up my car.
We went into reception, looking for Julie, but we were told that she had gone for the weekend and wouldn't be back in work until Monday at 8:30am.

When we asked about my stuff; my trousers, the adhesive remover and my wallet, the staff behind the counter said that they knew nothing about it. They were quite unhelpful, I know they were busy, with other guests queuing behind us, but they seemed to be quite dismissive of my problems. I caught one of them giving the other one a meaningful glance, but I couldn't figure out what the meaning was meant to be. The message, whatever it was, was clearly not meant for me.

Our pleas to be given Julie's home number were met with a polite but firm 'No'. When we asked for Lucy it was clear that the lady in reception was beginning to become frustrated with us. Cathy asked if there was a more senior member of staff who might know more about Julie's prosthetics. We had to wait for a while while a middle-aged guy came out from the office in the back. We had to start again from the beginning and his eyes widened as he realised from our story who and what I was.

"I'm very sorry, my dear." he said in a profoundly patronising way, "But I cannot give personal contact details to anyone without their express permission. I can give you Mrs Price's work email address, and it is possible, but unlikely, that she will check it before Monday morning. I'm afraid I do not know this 'Lucy' lady, so I can't help you there. I don't know anything about the prosthetics you mentioned, I leave the organisation of those events to Mrs Price as, to be honest, I find the whole thing a little disturbing. I know it's the 21st century and all that but, no disrespect to you, young lady, I'm a little set in my ways and I find all that sort of thing a bit… weird."

He tailed off at the end and looked apologetic As he clearly realised how lame he sounded, under the circumstances.
We took the proffered email address and left my contact details with instructions that they could be passed to Julie or Lucy.

And that was that. I felt profoundly let down, but we thanked Mr Hall for taking the time to talk to us, then I dropped Cathy back home.

As I drove Cathy home I mentioned my suspicions that the reception staff had known exactly what was going on and had been deliberately unhelpful. Cathy agreed that it seemed that way to her, as well.

Cathy asked me to come in for a moment and she left me downstairs, with a cup of tea, watching the news while she went upstairs with Fiona. They came down after 30 minutes or so with a small case on wheels. It was acid pink.
"We thought we'd better put together a CARE package, to see you through the weekend." Cathy explained. Fiona lifted the case onto the table. Unzipped it and started to explain…
"There's a nighty and a sleep shirt, knickers, bra, makeup, toiletries, shoes, some clothes and a dress - oh, and another work outfit, for Monday, in case you still, you know…, need it."
"Hmm, I wonder how long until these things are stuck for good?" I wondered as I lifted my boobs slightly.
"We can get them seen to on Monday, I'm sure, if not sooner. You can't tell me they haven't started you seriously thinking about which team you will play for in future. I've seen how much more comfortable you have been today!" said Cathy.
"Was it so obvious?" I asked with a wry grin "I thought I hid my pain and humiliation very bravely!"
"Honestly, I will miss Bobbi if you decide not to go ahead with this… You've come out of your shell in a way I couldn't have imagined before. You're quite a girl, Bobbi Smith!" Cathy said.
I was starting to get a bit teary-eyed, so I hugged them both, thanked them for everything and said my goodbyes.
As I tottered down the path to my car pulling a pink overnight bag I wondered what on Earth I would do this weekend?

-0-0-

When I got home and parked in my usual parking space I suddenly thought how I would be exposing myself to ridicule. No one who had seen me before could fail to realise Bobbi was Bob. Then I shrugged to myself. No one on the estate had spoken to me since I moved in. I'm not sure anyone would recognise me as Bob or Bobbi, or care either way. My housemates were another matter but Andrea was away in London visiting her parents this weekend, Amy was always at her boyfriend's place and James… well, maybe I could avoid him if he stayed in his room?

I grabbed my case from the backseat and hurried into the house.

I got to the door and had a moment of panic when I realised my keys wouldn't be in my trouser pocket because I didn't have pockets, or trousers You could almost see the lightbulb over my head as I was struck by sudden inspiration to look in my handbag.
A few moments searching, following a familiar jingling noise, found my keys. A few more moments found me on the other side of the door, with my case, clicking the door home and shutting out the world.

"Click"

With that small sound I felt a measure of relaxation I hadn't felt since yesterday. There was also the smallest tinge of disappointment. This was the first time since yesterday evening that I had been on my own. I had spent a lot of time in my own company at university and since leaving and it had been a thrill to have people constantly just… around. I guess what I enjoyed was just hanging out with a bunch of people who were all cooler than me in some way. The way they all treated me like I was one of them, part of the gang.
Thirty seconds without that and I began to miss it.

Just then, my phone rang, it was Jordan.
"Hey girlfriend! How was your first day on the pink side?" she started.
"It was… good, really good" I said.
"Tell me all about it" Jordan said.
"Don't you want to come over?" I asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice.
"Hmmm" Jordan mused "Are you all alone and desperately horny because you've been flashing your knickers at all the boys like the naughty like girl you are?"
"Not exactly" I said "But I'm quite happy to flash my knickers at you if it will get you to come over and play with me… like the naughty girls we are?"
Jordan sniggered but she pulled herself together and went on "I don't think Daddy would like me going to a single guys bachelor pad and spending hours there, but I guess he wouldn't mind my new bezzy, Bobbi, coming for a sleepover?"
"He'll take one look at me and figure it out. If he doesn't figure it out on the spot then he will the moment he sees me out of drag."
"Then you'll just have to make sure he never sees you looking like a tomboy again."
"I was planning on going back to being a guy again this weekend, it's only because Julie wasn't there at the hotel that means I couldn't get the solvent for the adhesive…" I said.
"Well then, all the more reason for my girlfriend to come round, seeing as I won't be seeing her again after this weekend!" Jordan said with a strangely forced-sounding cheerfulness. I'm not saying it was feminine intuition kicking in, but I sensed something wasn't right.
"Ok, when you put it like that… I guess Bobbi is free this evening." I said "What's the dress code?"
"You can't be too overdressed or showing too much skin for me, sweety. Just be your charming self!" Jordan said.
"Give me half an hour to shower and put on a face and I'll be over. Er… what's your address?" I asked.
"I put it on your phone when I typed in my number this morning." Jordan said with a chuckle.
I checked the address, I didn't recognise it but it had a postcode and I had satnav on my phone, well Google maps, you know, like everyone else.
"Ok, I'm on my way!" I said with a smile.
"'urry to me, my sweet!" Jordan said in a bad French accent.

-0-0-

I left my eye makeup alone, removed the foundation from my face and put on a new coat of lipstick.
I chose a clubbing dress, I guess, from the stuff in the bag. I left my work clothes folded in the wash basket, repacked my bag with everything, checked myself in the mirror, brushed my hair and headed to the car. It took a little more than the half hour I had said but I was doing my best to hurry.

James never came out of his room, I could hear his games system with explosions in the background and James' cursing the other players, but I dodged the bullet of having to deal with him.

-0-0-

My phone took me to a leafy suburb of the town down to the end of a cul-de-sac. I couldn't see a house but there was a gate to a driveway. I drove down it as it was clear the other houses had numbers rather than names, I was looking for 'Green Farm House'. As I drove down the drive in the dark I was beginning to wonder if I had gotten hopelessly lost when I turned a corner and saw a large house, or several houses, perhaps, joined together. There were flood lights all around lighting up the driveway and the house. There was a kind of gravelled forecourt or courtyard, with a gated arch leading off behind the house. Possibly to some stables.

Wow.

I got the impression Jordan was not bothered with money worries but this was a little intimidating. I parked my crappy Citroen near what I thought might be the front entrance and got out. I retrieved my bag and made my way to the door.

There didn't seem to be any doorbell, so I knocked smartly on the door. Ratatatat.
I waited and there was no sign that anyone had heard me.

I was beginning to get a little irritated by now, they weren't going out of their way to be welcoming. I dug out my phone from my handbag (how have I managed without a handbag until now!) and rang Jordan.
She answered quickly…
"Hello sweetie!" she said.
"All this property and you can't afford a doorbell?" I asked.
"Oh! You're here already? Didn't you see the buzzer on the gate?"
"In the dark?"
"Oh, right… I'm on my way, keep talking, luvvergal!"
"What do you want me to say? It's a lovely place? Slightly smaller than Longleat but still imposing?"
"Hah! Longleat, nice one. I should get some tigers!"
"Please, tell me you're joking?"
"You're right, of course, the horses wouldn't like them, I guess."

I was floundering, a little. I knew Jordan was teasing me because I was overwhelmed by the wealth on display here, but I didn't know how to respond. It just highlighted how little I knew about Jordan's world and my place in it, if any. One thing that was very clear to me now was that she didn't have any need for a weedy nerd boyfriend. I'm guessing she had rich suitors lined up for days... and bad boy studs waiting in the wings, all stubbly and muscled, like Mark. I was feeling very insecure when she finally opened the door. I was looking at the floor and wondering what I was doing here, dressed this way and looking like this.

"Hmmm, aren't you just the yummiest little morsel!" Jordan declared with a predatory grin, making me shiver, nervously. It was strange, I felt reassured that she did want me here and more nervous about exactly what it was she wanted from me.

She pulled me inside and smooched the living daylights out of me. I was starting to suffer from lack of oxygen, I think, because I was feeling dizzy and I couldn't think straight, it almost felt like I was drunk. It was very wet and there was a lot of tongue action. It was so different from the shy kissing I had done with other girls. This almost felt like Jordan wanted to climb inside me. I didn't feel violated, exactly, but there was something primal in the way she took complete control of my body. I really liked letting her take charge.

When she finally let me draw breath she dragged me to a mirror and hissed "You naughty girl, now you messed up your makeup, and mine! Here l, let me help you…"
She proceeded to wipe my face clean and reapply lipstick with a lipstick that matched hers. Then she quickly did her lips to.
"Now no one will be any the wiser, if we kiss carefully" she said in a stage whisper.
"And how much 'careful' kissing were you planning on?" I asked.
"Good point, let's have dinner with my Dad first, before we try that again?" she said, as she led me deeper into the house.

The house seemed huge to me, and we passed several doors and a staircase in a hall with an honest to goodness chandelier in it before we got to a large kitchen. There was an Aga oven at one end loads of cupboards, granite work surfaces and, at the other end a large, very solidly built, wooden table. Probably it was oak.

At the table sat a man who could only be Jordan's Father. He was a tall, good looking man, with dark hair greying at the temples and horn-rimmed glasses. He looked very distinguished and quite intimidating. He didn't look angry or anything, he just looked… hmm, I'm searching for a word to sum up the quality he seemed to project. 'Competent', that's as close as I can get. He looked like he was ready and able to do anything he set his mind to.
Jordan brought me up to him and introduced me.

"Daddy, this is Bobbie, I met her at the party last night and we got on like a house on fire. Her friends were very kind and gave me a place to stay last night and I'm going to return the favour after we go out tonight." she said.
"Maybe she will be a calming influence on you. I can't understand why you have to go out tonight as well." he said with a rueful smile.
"Err… I didn't realize we were going out tonight?" I said.
"Oh, just into town - there's a Christmas thing at Ococo's. Don't worry, I can lend you some stuff to wear." Jordan said.
"Why don't we discuss it over dinner?" Jordan's Father said.

Jordan and her Father dished up Chicken and rice and vegetables with a delicious smelling gravy. I offered to help but they sat me down at the table.
Jordan’s Father sat at the head of the table and Jordan sat opposite me on his right hand. It all seemed a little ritualistic somehow.

Jordan’s Father introduced himself as James Carr.
“Carr? Seriously?” I asked.
“I know, it’s why I didn’t tell you my last name.” Jordan said.
I hadn’t even realised until that moment that she’d never mentioned her last name.
“Bobbie, Bobbie Smith” I said with a smile.
There was a little small talk then, I’m not great with small talk at the best of times and James was so imposing and Jordan was so naughty I was getting a little flustered. Every time James got up to get some wine or looked away for whatever reason Jordan would do something to wind me up. I found her foot in my crotch at one point and her feet proved to be incredibly dextrous. Of course, wearing a short skirt as I was, there wasn’t that much challenge with regard to access to my nether regions but she must have prehensile toes or something. Above the surface of the table she was all innocence; “daddy” this and “daddy” that. But when he wasn’t looking she looked at me in a way that challenged me, disturbed me and turned me on in equal measure. She was the archetypal wild child incarnate.

After dinner I offered to wash up and James chuckled - “It’s fine, we have a dish washer and Maria will load them in the morning. Just leave the plates by the sink. I’m going to my office and leave you girls to it. Don’t forget your key Jordan and try to be in by 1am at the very latest. It was lovely to meet you, Bobbie, don’t let Jordan be too bad an influence on you (I’m not blind to your many flaws and charms, young lady!)”
The last he directed to Jordan who looked at him in mock innocence, trying to hold a straight face as she tried to mime ‘who, me?’

A Christmas Party - part 6


Bob gets invited to his office's Christmas Party. His colleagues convince him that life is more fun in a dress.

In this part; Bobbi spends time with Jordan.

Christmas party 6

After dinner Jordan led me through the house to her bedroom. The place was a labyrinth and I'm sure she doubled back on herself and took me through rooms we didn't have to go through because there's no way even a big house like hers would require you to walk for that long to get from one side to the other. I think she was showing off.

Once we were far enough away from the kitchen that her dad wouldn't hear us and wouldn't be likely to bump into us she turned around, grabbed me and proceeded to absolutely snog the face off me.
I made a weird squeak when she grabbed me, because she did it without any warning whatsoever. By the time she let me go I was leaning against the wall, breathing heavily with a bemused smile on my face. Whatever else you might say about Jordan she was sexy as hell and she knew how to push all my buttons to leave me a squidgy wreck.

Part of her unique power over me was how she completely assumed the dominant role. Dominant role seemed so incongruous when I thought about standing up to Jordan. Why would I want to and what would it achieve? She was like a force of nature, a very sexy force of nature, but one that was absolutely unstoppable. I pity the fool that stood in her way!

But, that unstoppable nature left me with an issue, if I let it. She had all the power, all the money and to be honest, most of the drive.I’m pretty sure that she was a little older than me. Even if she wasn’t older in years she was clearly older in experience. More widely travelled, better dressed, more self-assured.
I had seen a lesbian t-shirt before (how sad am I? I’m taking relationship advice from a t-shirt!) to the effect that “People ask me who is ‘the girl’ in the relationship, I tell them ‘we both are, that’s the point”. Which made sense...except… in our relationship, it was quickly becoming apparent that I was the girl. I’m not sure whether that made Jordan ‘the man’. If she was ‘the man’ then she was a damn sexy one!

Jordan went straight to her closet and got out two outfits. They were red and shiny with white fur. They looked like a 'sexy Santa' or Christmas elf costume, except for the fact that they were shiny vinyl, that looked a little like red patent leather.
Jordan got me stripped naked in less time than it takes to tell and she handed me white stockings and a suspender belt and a white lace bra and panties set.
I still had my spanx on underneath. She helped me get the stockings and belt on, then she left me to dress myself. She busied getting herself dressed, her stockings and lingerie were bright red.
The dress was lined with fabric, but it was quite coarse and the dress was a little tight and kind of crinkled as I moved. It wasn't as comfortable as the dress I had arrived in, but I could see Jordan was set on going as a pair.

"These dresses aren't very comfy…" I mentioned to Jordan.
"I know" she said with a sigh "but the plastic will warm up and get more flexible, especially when we start dancing, and it looks amazing on you!"

Jordan certainly knew how to talk me into things. I would have done almost anything to cause her to smile like that. Her smile was joyous and wild.

Jordan handed me a handbag that jangled and grabbed another one for herself and grabbed a few things and shoved them in her bag. She moved so quickly that I couldn't keep track of what she took. Then she took two coats from her wardrobe (she had a walk-in wardrobe off her main bedroom, it was amazing). They seemed to be made out of fake fur, one was short and one was long, she gave me the long one and ushered us downstairs and out the back of the house by the stables. It was dark outside the backdoor but lights came on automatically as we went out and Jordan locked the door behind us.

She led me to an expensive looking dark car and opened the passenger door for me before going round to the driver's door to get in herself.
The seats were dark leather and the car smelled new. Inside it seemed enormous and it felt like Jordan was sat metres away from me. She pushed a button and the dashboard lit up with a large screen in the centre of the console I clicked in my seatbelt as she did. She looked across at me in the light of the dashboard and the outside lights and grinned.

The car started moving with no engine noise.

"It's a hybrid" Jordan said by way of explanation.

I have no idea where we went, it was down dark roads late at night. Jordan clearly knew the way, she didn't bother with satnav that would have given me a clue.
She played an interesting and eclectic range of music. Billy Eilish, some opera, Queen, Macklemore and Lady Gaga I recognised. There was some Kpop that I didn't know. The display said it was "BlackPink".

Jordan told me how pretty I was. I told her how freaking hot she was.

Jordan said "This is a different crowd than I think you're used to. Don't worry, I will look out for you. You'll be quite safe". She smiled then, in a way that was not entirely reassuring.
I was pretty sure I could hold my own wherever Jordan could. It's not like I was going to get raped through my spanx and I might be small but I was fit and feisty. But I was intrigued.

We went down a long gravel drive with passing places and speedbumps and we ended up driving behind a building that looked like a stately home. There were several expensive looking cars parked in a kind of courtyard behind and some buildings that looked like a cross between barns, stables and industrial units. They were too big to be stables, too small to be barns and too, nice? rural seeming? whatever, to be industrial units. Jordan parked up and came around to help me out of the car.

She helped me straighten my outfit once I was stood up and handed me a Santa hat and a white lacy mask. She put on a hat and a red lacy mask, then she took a pair of white fur covered handcuffs from her purse and slipped them on me. I was so gobsmacked I just stuck my arm and let her. She led me to a door that had a little window in it. She glanced through the window and led me inside. There was a huge black guy in a cream suit standing inside the door and a gorgeous girl in a dress with a bodice and a lot of cleavage on show behind a reception desk, her makeup was dramatic, exotic and exquisite.

"Hi Dave! I've bought some fresh blood tonight" Jordan said and jangled my wrist in the cuffs at the guy.
"Jordan, isn't it?" he asked, "don't forget to slip off your mask for the entrance cameras, please".
"No problem, we have to leave our coats anyway" Jordan said.

She led me to the woman and flashed a credit card at her. The woman gave us two tickets, which Jordan stashed in her purse, and took our coats. This involved us having to take off the cuffs (there was some kind of hidden catch, Jordan knew how to work it, but I wasn't sure what she did) and slipping our masks up our faces as Jordan pointed out the camera behind the desk.

Jordan slipped the cuffs back on as the woman asked "Is she of age?"
It struck me as a bizarrely antiquated way to put it. Jordan fished in my purse and showed her my driving licence.
The woman looked at the licence and looked at me, squinting slightly. Her eyes suddenly widened and she smiled slightly.
"Miss, your photo does not do you justice" she said "welcome, to The Club".

I swear she said the last two words with clearly audible capitalisation. She pressed a button and two doors opposite the desk swung open. We could hear music all the while we were in the entrance but when the doors opened we could feel it, loud and rhythmic with lots of bass.

Jordan grinned and dragged me inside.

A Christmas Party - part 7


Bob gets invited to his office's Christmas Party. His colleagues convince him that life is more fun in a dress.

In this part; Bobbi's night out with Jordan doesn't go as planned...

Christmas Party 7

As Jordan led me into the darkened room I could make out dimly lit figures at tables around the outside, a large dancefloor in the middle with a small stage or raised area off it with a DJ's booth and a bar along the far wall.

It all looked like a fairly normal club, with loud music and a dazzling light show. But as my eyes got used to the gloom I realised that we might be two of the most conservatively dressed people in the room. There were goths, people in various forms of fetishwear, latex dresses (some worn by men) and some who were very scantily dressed.

Jordan wrapped herself around me and nuzzling into my ear (which might have been the only way to be heard over the music) said "Don't stare, dear. It's rude!"
"Rude?" I muttered to myself, sure that even Jordan wouldn't be able to hear me "There's a guy there wearing a red leather cod piece, dog collar, a smile and ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ELSE… and I'm the rude one."
I slid up against Jordan and said in her ear "The way these people have gone out of their way to shock me, surely it would be rude NOT to stare!"
Jordan nodded and said "Now you're getting it!, but be discrete. Pretend you're bored with it all".
“Riight” I muttered to myself.

I kind of felt like Jordan had brought me into a shark pool and all the freaks were going to be circling for a scent of new blood. But, for all I looked like the innocent here, wasn’t I at least as perverse in my choice of outfit?

I tried to relax and imagine that my secret was bigger than theirs, and hence harder to perceive. If I bumped into my bank manager (who knows their bank manager, these days, but even so) if I bumped into any bank manager dressed as a goth or whatever and I recognised them, they could be sure that I wouldn’t out them because, frankly, my secret was more…

Hmm, what was my secret? I wasn’t ashamed to be a girl. My workmates all knew how I was likely to be dressed and most of them had actively encouraged me (except for Joyce, and I didn’t really care what she thought). Did I care what my mother thought? Well, yes, of course. But I didn’t expect her to be disgusted by me, maybe slightly surprised and bemused. I think what would hurt, would be that she didn’t know first. Maybe she did? Parents often claim to have insight into their kids before their kids know themselves. But I was pretty sure that my Mum would be surprised if she could see me like this.

So...not much of a secret, really. Maybe my bank manager should be more worried I’d rat him out?
I sniggered to myself as I thought about bumping into someone like that.

Jordan dragged me deeper into the room, and I had little choice but to follow, because I was handcuffed to her. She was, apparently, looking for someone.

"Hortensia!" she shouted out and dragged me towards a stunning Asian woman in a red dress that was...pretty much backless, middleless and bottomless. The breasts were covered, although her navel, neck, and everything between were not. To call the dress short was doing it a disservice. It felt like there should be a stronger word for a dress that was so short that it showed that she was wearing tights rather than stockings.

"Mai Lee!" the Asian girl shouted as she ran to Jordan and hugged her.

Jordan flung her arms around the girl. Because I was handcuffed to her that meant one of my arms also went round her at an awkward angle. I teetered on my high heels and tried to look bored. I don't think it worked… 'Hortensia' was exquisite, like a China doll, if a China doll had the sex appeal and dress sense of a porn star.
She took a step back and looked me up and down. I was clearly out of place and a single querying glance at Jordan was all she needed to say.

"This is Bobbi, my girlfriend" Jordan said with a grin "Bobbi, this is Amy, I've known her since school".
Amy looked puzzled as she said "Not to be blunt, dear, but I was pretty sure you were straighter than me!"
"Well, a girl can change her mind, and Bobbi is very special!" said Jordan as she winked at me.
"Special, eh?" said Amy, clearly trying to figure out anything that marked me out of the ordinary.
"The only really special thing about me is my girlfriend" I said and directed a look of pure devotion at Jordan… who ruined the moment by miming throwing up. Amy barked out a laugh.
"Oh yeah, now I see it!" she said "special indeed!"
We all laughed together.

A guy who looked like a leather-clad male stripper wandered over and put one arm around Amy as if he was claiming her.

"This eye candy is my boy toy, Michael" said Amy "not too smart, and the morals of an alley cat… but look at those abs!"
Michael lifted his shirt and ran his hand over a belly that looked like a washboard.
"Yep, that's me!" he agreed aimiably.
Jordan looked at Amy and asked "May we?"
Amy said "Sure…"

Jordan reached out and ran her hand down his front, across his rippled muscles, below his belt and towards his crotch.
She used the hand that I was cuffed too, so I mirrored her move with my hand, I was a few inches behind her, so as she cupped his leather-clad balls my hand was resting on his crotch as it suddenly lurched into an impressive erection.

"Damn" said Michael as he moved Amy in front of him to cover his bulge "you lesbians are all prick teases!"

I was glad the lace masks we wore covered some of my blushes.

Amy led us back to a table in the corner where there were a few more women and a couple of guys. None of them were quite as exotic as Amy and Michael, I think, but my recollection starts to get a little hazy from about that point.

We had some drinks, Jordan drank her diet coke from the bottle as she complained that she had to drive and I had Malibu and coke in a glass. We danced, we danced a lot. Jordan ground her body against me like demented succubus and I responded as best I could.

Which was apparently good enough to get a fair bit of attention, even from this crowd.

We would head back to our table from time to time and I would sip my drink. The drink never seemed to go down, though, and after the third trip back to the table I don't remember much…

-0-0-

"Wake up! Wake up, Bobbi! Oh Jesus, how am I going to get you… Hey! Hey you! Can you help me? Please?! My friend was drugged and I can't get her into the hospital".

The voice was Jordan's, I think. I don't think it was directed at me.

I wasn't sure though, because I was very sleepy. All her yelling was enough to keep anyone awake and….whoops! That was interesting, I felt like I was flying. Whee!
Flying in the arms of Superman. Two strong arms around me, lifting me easily out of the car and carrying me…

Where were they carrying me?

I prised one eyelid open to peer around. Huh. It looked like a hospital. What are we doing here? Was someone ill? Did someone drink too much? Maybe...maybe I drank too much? That didn't feel right. I don't remember drinking much. And I don't feel drunk. I feel… so sleepy.

-0-0-

I woke up on an A&E trolley bed, with green curtains all the way around and Jordan sat next to me.

Jordan's eyes were closed. From the state of her makeup she looked as though she'd been crying.

"J-jordan" I said. Or tried to say. My mouth felt dry and furry.

Jordan jolted awake.

"Oh, Bobbi, I'm so sorry" she said.
"Th-thirsty" I croaked.
"Oh, right… hang on" she said. She disappeared for a moment and came back with a beaker of water. I sipped it gratefully.

"What happened?" I asked simply.

Jordan looked awkward.

"I think someone tried to 'rufi' you. I don't know what they thought would happen, you were chained to me after all and I wouldn't have left you for a moment!" she said.
"I'm glad" I started to say, just as a medic came through the curtain.
"Huh?" she said "what are you glad about?"
" I'm glad Jordan didn't leave my side" I said "she stuck with me like we were handcuffed to each other!"
"Oh, I see. Yes, I would be glad of a friend like that in your situation!" the medic said, she turned to Jordan "your friend was lucky you realised what was going on. You girls are so vulnerable these days. You have to look out for each other."
"What did go on?" I asked "I've just woken up and I'm a little fuzzy in the details".
"Someone slipped some drug into your drink, we think" the medic said "I've taken some blood samples. If you want to make a complaint I can make the details available to the police. Your girlfriend agreed that we should go ahead, it can be time critical with some drugs, they metabolise very quickly and are not detectable even a day later".
"Well, ok. I'm not sure who we would make a complaint against. I'm pretty sure the club doesn't routinely dope it's drinks…" I said.
"It was Michael" Jordan said in a strange tone.

She seemed almost completely emotionless, which wasn't like her at all. I guessed that she had gone through the realms of white-hot fury into the realms of some kind of cold black rage. It was disturbing, on one level, but strangely gratifying that she valued me so much in such a short period of time that she would get so upset about me.

"How can you be so sure it was him?" I asked.
"I don't trust anyone round our drinks and I watched our table, he was the only guy who went near our end of the table" Jordan said.
"It wasn't a girl?" I asked.
"Why would a girl…" Jordan looked puzzled.
"What, lesbians are above such things?" I asked.
"Oh" Jordan said "I hadn't considered that angle. Maybe you are right". She got a calculating look in her eyes as she considered this new factor.
"So...am I free to go?" I asked in as nonchalant a voice as I could manage. I was acutely aware that there were questions about my anatomy that I didn't want asked, let alone have to answer, while I was lying in A&E in a skimpy vinyl santa dress.
The medic turned to Jordan and asked "Is she staying with you tonight? Will you be ok to watch her?"
"Huh? Oh, sure. I've not had a drink, because I'm driving. She'll be fine with me, we were planning a sleepover anyway" Jordan replied.

-0-0-

Jordan helped me to the car. My memory is full of holes and I don't remember much about the journey home. I was… I'm not sure how to describe it… kind of lost. I was very suggestible.

I'm not sure if it was the drugs or just how I felt about Jordan but I found myself following her slightest suggestion without a murmer. I'm pretty sure I said "Yes mistress" at least once. The look on her face was weirdly conflicted.

We ended up in bed together. No, not like that. Jordan got me cleaned up and dressed in one of her nighties. She was dressed in a scandalous scrap of black lace that revealed more than it covered.
She said "I was going to rock your world tonight, I had your seduction all planned… but it would feel weird to 'take advantage of you' after you've been rufi'd, even if it wasn't me who did it".

I must have looked crestfallen, but I didn't complain and I forgot about it as we climbed into bed. Jordan sat up and cradled my head in her lap and she stroked my hair as I fell asleep…

-0-0-

I woke the next morning naked except for a tiny pair of lacy knickers, tangled up with Jordan with her hand cupping my crotch and mine between her warm breasts, slipped up under her nighty.

As I came awake and realised our position I wondered what I had done to get so lucky as to spend time with this extraordinary woman. As I stared at her, trying to commit this moment to memory she simply opened her eyes. I felt shy suddenly realising that I had been staring at her while feeling her warm, soft breast under my hands. She slid one hand between my legs and another around my shoulder and pulled me close to her with tender intimacy.

"I love the way you look at me, like I'm the last chocolate in the box and you're not sure if you're allowed to have me although you want to rip my wrapper off and swallow me whole!" Jordan said, her voice slightly husky and slightly breathy as she hadn't woken up properly yet.
"Thank you for looking after me last night, I'm so sorry it put a damper on the evening" I said, holding her gently as she squashed my hand between her breasts.
"Ah, I felt more than a little responsible. I'm guessing you don't go clubbing much?" Jordan said.
"Ha, not to clubs like that!" I said.

"Ok", said Jordan with a sudden change of mood, "what shall we do this weekend? What would you like to do?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at me.
"Get my eyebrows trimmed?", I said, deliberately guessing wrong for comic effect. Jordan face-palmed, with a groan.
"Seriously, though, I need to see my Mum before I go much further down this road… I'd really appreciate it if you came with me, as my girlfriend. Would that be too weird?" I said.
"My Dad has already met you" Jordan said.
"But he doesn't know we're a couple?" I asked.
"No… not exactly…" Jordan said.
I looked at her silently questioning.
"I'm really bad at keeping secrets from him. I'm sure he guessed I was bi before I did. I think it's obvious to anyone who knows me how I feel about you!" Jordan said.
"It's not obvious to me how you feel, I just know how you make me feel!" I said.
"Oh? How is that, exactly?" Jordan said with a mischievous grin, her hand was still between my legs, clutching my bum to her and her wrist was against my crotch.
"Oh my!" I said.

Jordan slithered out of our embrace, slid on top of me and grabbed each of my wrists. She pinned me down and started kissing me.
I not sure exactly what she did, or what I did. I think I passed out through lack of oxygen at one point.

By the time we finished making out, our clothes were dishevelled and our hair was a mess.

Thankfully we weren't wearing makeup. I say 'clothes', I was only wearing a pair of knickers and my stuck on chest enhancers. My knickers were so twisted around they were practically on sideways. Jordan's knickers were in a similar state to mine and one strap of her nighty was down with one breast hanging out and the rest was twisted like we'd been wrestling, or something.

"Breakfast?" Jordan asked.
My stomach growled.
"I'll take that as a 'yes'!" she said.
"I think that was a 'hell, yes!'" I said "what do you have?"
"Everything" Jordan said simply.
"Shall I make us pancakes?" I asked.
"You? You can cook pancakes?" Jordan asked. She looked baffled. "All this?" she said as she gestured at my body "and she cooks too? You are going to make someone a fabulous wife!"
"If you give me the bits, and an instruction manual!" I quipped.
"Huh?" Jordan looked confused.
"Well, I'm a bit of a Frankenstein's monster, but I'm trying to make myself into the perfect girlfriend for you!" I said.
"Oh!" Jordan said as her eyes misted up "You are just too perfect already!"

A Christmas Party - part 8


Bob gets invited to his office's Christmas Party. His colleagues convince him that life is more fun in a dress.

In this part; Bobbi and Jordan meet Bobbi's Mum. Bobbi makes some decisions and learns some things.

This is the final part, for now. It's not the end of Bobbi's story, I think, but it's a good point to draw a line under things.

Christmas Party 8

Jordan loved my pancakes.

After breakfast we went back to her room and she started going through her massive closet to find 'the perfect ultra-feminine classy winter outfit'. I had visions of Jordan using me as a life-size Barbie doll, but she had a few ideas, she held up a couple of items against me and she decided quickly on a divine cream sweater dress with a cowl neck. She gave me a white lacy bodysuit, slip and grey opaque tights to wear under it. It draped around my body and showed my shape (enhanced by my prosthetics) to be very feminine. It wasn't really tight, but it was definitely form-fitting. She gave me dark-grey suede boots that zipped up the side and came above my knee.

As I was getting dressed she started putting together an outfit for herself. Black underwear, and tights, slip, black pencil skirt, gold silk blouse, black jacket and high-heeled shoes.

She handed me a metal disk on a necklace that looked like a small satellite dish to me, a watch, some bangles and a wool coat. She found herself a red wool coat and some sunglasses.
Jordan helped me with my makeup, she made it look very natural while emphasising all my girliest features, my eyes looked huge, my lashes were long, my lips were moist and dewey. I looked… like a very pretty young woman.

Jordan looked like a young professional, straight from some law firm or merchant bank. She looked intimidating and slightly haughty.
"I look like your ward!" I said, laughing.
"I don't look like your domme, in mufti?" Jordan said with a pout.
"You look…" I started, trying to figure out how to describe how she looked "You look very adult".
Jordan snorted and stuck her tongue out at me.
Jordan wanted to go in her car but I insisted on taking mine.
"At least she might recognise the car, even if she doesn't recognise me!" I said.
Jordan laughed.
"You have a point! I know it's a cliché, but I don't see how your mother could recognise you." she said. She looked concerned for a moment and continued, "Er, she doesn't have a heart condition or anything?"
I stopped and thought for a moment.
"She's never shown any sign of anything like that...We'll have to play it by ear. If the worst happens the hospital is nearby and we call for an ambulance. I think I can do CPR until they arrive" I said.
"Shit, I was kind of joking at first, but now you are making me worried. How are you going to break it to her?" Jordan asked.
"Well, you could introduce yourself to her as my girlfriend and then when she tries to figure out who I am, I could explain?" I said.
"That sounds ridiculously lame and pointless. Couldn't you just make a joke of it?" Jordan asked.
"Hi Mom, tell me, did you _want_ to try swapping a daughter for your son?" I said.
"So, 'hi Mum, there's something we should talk about' wouldn't be a good way to start?" Jordan asked.
"That's only funny if we just ignore me dressing as a woman" I said.
"I wasn't really going for comedy gold, but that would make a great sitcom sketch. Not so good if it's real life?" Jordan said.
"You're right, of course. I'll just jump right in there. If she loves me then it will be fine. What parent rejects their child just before Christmas?" I said.

I gathered my things, made sure my case was packed, then we made our way out to my car and got in. I started up and drove down the drive, deep in thought. Jordan watched me with a serious and supportive look on her face. As we drove, I was struck by a sudden thought. There was a question I hadn't been able to ask last night in the Club with all the noise and the dancing…
"Why 'Hortensia' and 'Mai Lee'?" I asked.
Jordan did a double-take. "Well, that came out of the blue!" she said "Hmm, we were messing with this guy we met, we said our names were 'Hortensia' and 'Mai Lee', so, of course, he thought I must be Hortensia and Amy was Mai Lee, racist pig. Anyway, we tried to mess with him by insisting that it was the other way around… It didn't really work though, he was too pig-headed to realise he was being pranked. He kept calling me 'Hor' or 'Whore' all night and he called Amy 'Mine' or 'my Lee'".
"I cannot imagine you putting up with that shit for long!" I said.
"I was younger then… but, no. We were both underage, we took selfies with him drinking with us, with his filthy hands all over us, then we convinced him we were going to take them to the police" she said.
"What happened?" I asked.
"Oh, he laughed it off. Made us feel like stupid little girls, and he went on his merry way. We thought we were being so clever. But he knew our fathers and he knew he could get us into more trouble than we could make for him" Jordan said sadly "We claimed the names as a reminder never to let some guy make us feel that way again".
"Does that work?" I asked.
"Not really, I think it's just one of those things we do now. It's lost its original meaning and we just do it for something to do now" Jordan said.
"Did you take any pictures last night?" I asked.
"Huh?" Jordan said.
"I know you like to take pictures on your phone, maybe you caught someone in the background, spiking my drink?" I said.
"I took a few, I guess. Amy may have some more and the Club has security cameras, I think. I'll call them after we see your Mum. That's a good thought. Thank you. It's going to bug me until I know for sure who the scumbag is and we can do something about it." Jordan said.

We were coming close to my Mum's house. It was in a village outside Taunton called Creech St Michael. Parking was a nightmare, like always. The houses either side of my Mum's were looking more run down. I felt like Jordan would be judging me for where I came from.
I looked round at her and she just looked supportive. She was there for me and the fact that my Mum lived on a shitty estate instead of in a palace didn't phase her.

I turned off the engine and took a deep breath. I was sure everything would be ok, eventually, but I wasn't looking forward to the moment I introduced myself for the first time. I guess it was better to just get it over with, like ripping off a plaster.

Jordan came round to my side of the car and helped me out. She let me lead her to the door and stood a step behind me as I tapped on the door. The doorbell never seemed to work, so I didn't bother with it.

A shape appeared behind the frosted glass in the front door.
"Yes?" I heard my Mum's voice "Who is it? What do you want?"
"It's me Mum. It's Bobby, can you let us in?" I said. I was trying to talk in my normal voice and it sounded weird to me now. I must have been subconsciously copying the voices and speech patterns of all the women around me.
"Bobby?" Mum said, she sounded confused but she was unlocking the door. She peered out, trying to look behind me. She said "Where are you? And who are these girls?"
"Well, one of them is me!" I said, Mum looked shocked,"and the other one is my girlfriend, Jordan." I continued.
"What the hell have you done this time?!" Mum asked.
"Well, that's a long story...Can we come in?" I asked.
"Why didn't you ring and say you were coming?" Mum asked. She made no move to let us in.
"Well, this was all fairly sudden and I didn't know how to have this conversation on the phone" I said, in as reasonable a tone as I could manage.

Mum seemed to come to a decision and stepped back to let us in. I came in and stood in the middle of the living room. Mum stared at Jordan as she came in and shut the door behind her.

"Who's this?" Mum said, nodding at Jordan.
"Mum, this is Jordan, my girlfriend" I said. Jordan smiled brightly as I said this.
"Girlfriend? So you're not gay then? So… why are you dressed like that? What does she make of this?" Mum looked at Jordan.
"I really love how Bobbi looks, isn't she gorgeous?" Jordan said.
"So… you're a lesbian then? And Bob is dressed like that to turn you on because he thinks you are all that?" Mum asked.
"Mum, you're being rude!" I said.
"I don't think the world is actually that black and white, I know it isn't for Bobbi and me!" Jordan said.
"But he does turn you on? Like that?" Mum said.
"Mum!" I said in a warning tone.
"Let's see if I can give you a visual aid to understand this…" Jordan said, as she stalked over to me and swooped me into a lip-searing kiss…
"Ok, you've made your point, you can leave now!" Mum said after my senses had recovered and she had picked her jaw up off the floor.
"C'mon Bobbi!" Jordan said cheerfully "Lovely to meet you, Mrs Smith!"
Jordan led me out of the house and over to my car. She led me to the passenger side, took my keys from my numb fingers and opened the door for me. I got in, in a bit of a daze.
Jordan hurried round to the driver's side and fumbled to get the keys in the ignition. She started the car, gave a cheery wave to my Mum, gaping on the doorstep, and we were off.

"Phew! That was intense!" Jordan said.
"Yes. I'm not clear what just happened" I said.
"Did I kiss you too hard, dear?" Jordan said "I think it was fairly clear, your Mum was being a bitch to me and, indirectly, to you. I guess she hasn't had to deal with too many 'pan-sexuals'".
"Pan-sexual?" I asked.
"Yeah, when you love the person regardless of their gender" Jordan said.
"Oh, ok. That's what pan-sexual is? I've not really used that term before" I said.
"Ha, clearly your Mother hasn't come across it either, other than a form of insult" Jordan said "I'm sorry if I made things awkward for you…"
"No." I said, firmly "No, you were right, Mum was being a bitch to you and she had no right. I'm sure that it was a bit odd for her seeing me like this and she had lots of questions. But that ill-tempered interrogation was no way to treat my girlfriend."
"That's my girl, I love it when you stand up for me!" Jordan said with a smile.
I smiled back.
"It's not as though I live at my Mum's anymore" I said.
"Do you want to come stay with me for a while?" Jordan asked.
"Well, no offence Jordan, but I'm not up for your level of 'party animal' on a regular basis!" I said.
"Pah! As if I am either. It wasn't a 'school night' last night and we're both adults. Ok, let's have a quiet night in tonight. I would invite Amy round, but I'm still mad at Michael, and I don't need another fight tonight. How about just you and me and making out on the rug in front of the fire?" said Jordan.
"That sounds… really nice" I admitted.

-0-0-

Jordan drove my car better than I did. I guess working for a dealership meant she got to drive a lot of different cars. When we got back to her place she parked in the stable area behind the house, in a covered area with a couple of other cars. Jordan came round to help me get out of the car then helped retrieve my case from the boot. It felt very different, walking in the back of Jordan's house in the daylight with my outfit and handbag while Jordan pulled my case behind her, than it had when I arrived here last night. It already felt more like a sanctuary from the craziness of the world.

Jordan told me to drop my case off in her room and she would make us some coffee. I left her fussing with her fancy coffee machine and I went searching for her room. I tried to backtrack the route that we had taken when we left this morning and it seemed to take me much less time than it had when Jordan led me to her room for the first time. Leading me to believe that she was showing off in a bizarre way last night.

I put my case on the second bed in Jordan's room and hung up the coat Jordan had lent me. I put my handbag on the bed next to the case and sat down by it, trying to think what to do next. I'd kind of been moving forward without thinking since the night of the party. But now, as my Mum's words sank in… I was struck by the thought that I may be burning some bridges.
Maybe it was time to take stock and decide what I felt, what I wanted to do with my life?

My old life, before dresses, seemed dull and cold. The last couple of days seemed so much more vivid. I had made connections with people that I never would have spoken with before.

But, my relationship with my Mum had been the cornerstone of my life. Mum had left Dad when I was too young to remember them ever being together. He kept in touch for birthdays and Christmas, but Mum always kept him at arm's length. I think she had screwed him on the divorce and child support because he always seemed to be poor despite working hard in IT in Bristol.

We always seemed to be poor, as well. Which made me wonder where all the money went?
Mum didn't work full time, there was some limit of 21 hours or something, but I was grown and left home now, and I'd been pretty independent since I was 11. So I guess it was laziness on her part. I was really troubled by how heartless she had been. That betrayal cut like a knife and made me question everything she'd ever told me. Maybe Dad wasn't such a bad guy? Maybe I'd looked after her when I was growing up, rather than the other way around. Maybe… maybe I didn't need her, or her approval.

Finding new strength in that thought I sat up straighter and checked my makeup with a compact mirror from my handbag. If I was going to be a girl, I would decide what kind of well presented, successful, savvy woman I would be. I could use Jordan and Cathy as my role models.

Jordan appeared at the door with a tray with an insulated jug of coffee, mugs, cream and biscotti. She set down the tray on her dressing table and came to hug me.

"I'm sorry if I seemed to be rude to your Mother" she said.
I scoffed.
"She started it!" I said "I don't need her approval, and I don't like her being so rude to me or my friends!"
Jordan's eyebrow raised at this statement.
I went on, "and I positively draw the line at her being rude to you, my love!"
Jordan's expression softened and she smiled broadly as she bent down to kiss me.

We ended up on the bed, snogging and groping as the coffee got cold.

After a while, Jordan suggested we dress up. With her father out of the house for the evening she wanted to cheer me up.

We went through her extensive collection of lingerie and she picked items for us each to wear. She sent me off to have a shower and shave all over. She didn't join me, I wasn't sure where she went and I was a little disappointed not to be sharing the shower with her.

When I came out she was waiting and she slipped into the shower. She was very quick and I was still drying myself when she came out with a towel wrapped round her.

She sat me at the dressing table and blow dried my hair and started to do my makeup and hair. I relaxed and enjoyed the pampering of having this gorgeous woman use me like her very own Barbie doll. By the time she had finished, I looked like… well, it was like someone's little sister after the experienced older sister had painted her to be pimped out to the Prince.

Jordan handed me a underwired half corset thing in black lace and satin that gave me cleavage but didn't come down to my belly button, it had suspender stays that came down to hold up stockings. She gave me a black thong that went on over my spanx and black shoes with a such a high heel that I was sure I would fall flat on my face.
"I don't think I'll be able to walk anywhere in those…" I said ruefully.
Jordan chuckled. "These aren't for walking, these are for lying on your back with your knees by your ears!" she said.

She helped me slide a pair of black satin opera gloves on, then she had me stand in front of her full length mirror. I thought it would be a bit over the top, more 'Rocky Horror Picture Show' than sexy. But when I looked at myself I found I looked damn hot. Yes, I looked like a teenager pretending to be a porn star, but in a good way. It was fun, and a little naughty.

Jordan dabbed a little perfume in me, including behind the knees, no idea why. Then she had me put on the long faux-fur coat I wore last night and told me to go into the drawing room where the fire was and wait for her.
I tried to slink away with gently swaying hips, but it was more of a mince and a near miss at twisting my ankle.

I got a little more proficient at walking as I made my way downstairs, hanging onto the handrail as if my life depended on it.

When I found the room with the fire, I found Jordan had already lit it and it was going nicely. It gave a slightly decadent air to a room that was already imposing with several large leather sofas and bookcases.

Jordan had also laid a grey faux-fur blanket over the rug in front of the fireplace and there was a large leather bag, like an old doctors case, near the rug.

I sat on a sofa facing one of the two doors into the room, the one I had entered by.
I hugged the fake fur coat around myself and took stock of where I was.

I was dressed and looked like a sexy young woman, and I was waiting to be seduced by an older, sexier, realer woman.

I wasn't quite sure what to expect. Jordan had spent so long dressing me that I was sure she would be annoyed if I disrobed in any way. I felt like masturbating, to ensure my penis was as big as possible, so I didn't embarrass myself. There's nothing more humiliating for a man than failing to achieve a satisfactory erection, when the occasion called for it. Or having an enormous bulge when it didn't.
But, I wasn't sure Jordan wanted to see me with an erection.

So… what did she want to see? Me, draped in fur, lying spreadeagled in her lingerie on a rug in front of the fire?

What was I doing here? There was a dangerous edge to Jordan's affections. That hint of bad girl was so alluring. I didn't think that she would hurt me, but I wasn't sure she would think through the repurcussions of some of her actions.

I'd never really been attracted to bad girls before. But my experience with women was admittedly very limited.

I felt out of control and a little lost and pathetic, playing make-believe lesbian in my girlfriend's underwear. Where was Jordan? I expected her to be here by now.

She came through the door behind me and I twisted around in panic, thinking her father had come home early.

She was wearing a black leather duster and high black boots and she was carrying a tray. The tray had two wine glasses and a bottle of what looked like champagne. Jordan looked dark and sultry, like an exotic femme-fatalle. She put down the tray and stalked over to me, licking her lips.

I stared open mouthed.

She undid her belt and opened her coat to reveal a black corset in rich velvet and lace. She placed one booted foot on the sofa next to me and straightened her stocking. My slack jawed mouth inches from her crotch as my eyes went wide. She slowly peeled off her coat and threw it over the back of the sofa. She turned to face in the direction of the tray, gave a little "tsk" noise and, placing one foot a little in front of the other, bent at the waist to straighten the other stocking. Which had the effect of thrusting her pert bottom into my face. She straightened up and flicked her hair over her shoulder as she turned her head to look back at me with a knowing smile, then she stalked back to the tray and made short work of pouring two glasses of sparkling wine.

The pop of the cork as it flew across the room made me jump and squeal, there was so much tension and anticipation in the room.

She spilled some bubbles on the tray. She took both full glasses and came back towards me. She started to hand one glass to me, as I went to take it she drew the glass back a little until I lent forward to take it and she stole a kiss before she handed me the glass.

We clinked our glasses in a toast and she sipped her drink as I sipped mine. Her eyes held mine for a moment, then she drained her glass with a gulp and set it down on the floor by the sofa. As she lent forward to put the glass down her breasts threatened to fall out of their velvet cups. I was caught, like a deer in the headlights when she looked up at me through a veil of her hair and saw me staring at them. She smirked and said "Bottoms up, Bobbi, we have better things to do than drink champagne!"

I drained my glass and placed it next to hers.

She put two fingers in under my chin and raised my head up and kept raising it until I was stood before her. She slipped the fake fur coat from my shoulders and it slid down half on the sofa and half on the floor, then she led me over to the rug by the fire.

"What's in the bag?" I asked.
"Toys" she said with a knowing smirk.

"Lie down, on your front" she told me.
I obeyed as she went to the bag and opened it. There was a noise of something being squirted and a squelching noise as she rubbed it between her hands. She started massaging my shoulders. Whatever she used, it didn't feel like oil or lotion but it was slippery and smelled nice. It was cool at first and quickly warmed from the heat of my body in front of the fire.

She undid the back of my lingerie to get access to more of my back, but she left the straps around my arms. She worked her way down to my bum, she took her time and she knew what she was doing. When she reached my bum, it was clear the spanx were getting in the way. She teased the top of my thighs for a moment and then told me to "rollover".

She rummaged in her bag as I did so and took out two slim metal poles with loops on the end and some pink things that looked like foam covered wires about two feet long. Almost like small pool noodles. She did something with the poles and they extended to a few feet long and she slipped one under the mat above my head and one under the mat under my legs. Then she looked me in the eyes and looked very serious for a moment.

"Bobbi" she said "you know you can trust me, right? Absolutely".
I nodded, wondering where this was going.
"I want you to try this with me. It's what they call 'light bondage'. You could pull free if you want, but the feeling of being helpless adds to the fun. Let me show you with one hand…"
I nodded my assent and she threaded one of the pink things through the loop on the end of the top pole then twisted it around my wrist. It was like the cable tie holding something to the backing cardboard in a box. It wasn't tight, it felt like I could slip my hand out if I wanted.
"Ok?" Jordan asked.
I nodded, reassured.
She did the other wrist in a similar way to the loop at the other end of the rod.
"I need to take your spanx off now, because I won't be able to get them off once I secure your feet" Jordan said.
She knelt between my legs undid the stays on my stockings and gently removed my knickers and spanx together. Then she redid the stays and replaced the knickers, which was slightly pointless as I they couldn't stretch far enough to cover my erection.
Then Jordan raised my knees and strapped my ankles to the lower pole. She kissed my body as she slid along up me and kissed my mouth. Then she stood up, knelt with her knees either side of my head facing my feet and slowly lowered her body against mine…

-<3 !?! B>-

I'm not going to describe every moment of the two and a half hours that followed. It started slow and sensually with Jordan in complete control and ended after both of us had abandoned any pretense of control and were lying in front of the fire just holding each other and letting the various fluids; sweat, wine, lube and other secretions, dry on our skin. The sun had set while we made love and the room was lit by the dying embers of the fire...

"So…" Jordan said "have you decided if you like being my girlfriend?"
"Hah! Just wait til I get my breath back and we'll see who is who's girlfriend!" I retorted. I knew it was lame as I said it, but I was exhausted.
"Hmm, I'm pretty sure you enjoyed yourself, and you'll be going into work tomorrow as office Barbie again" Jordan said with a smug grin.
"It's not like I have a choice" I said ruefully "Julie wasn't there at the hotel when I went in on Friday, and none of the others knew anything about my trousers or the solvent to remove the breasts. God, that was an embarrassing conversation!"

"Ah" Jordan said in a small voice.

"Jordan?! Do you have something to tell me?" I said.
"Wellll… things have been a bit hectic and I may have forgotten to mention that I went to the hotel on Friday to retrieve your trousers…" Jordan said. She looked a little flustered.
"Go on" I said.
"...and… I have some solvent, some adhesive… and…" Jordan said.
"Don't stop there, I can tell there's more…" I said.
"I paid Julie for the prosthetics. She gave me a good price, because they were ex-demo items. They're yours to keep, as long as you want them… you just need to remove and clean the breasts once a week. I'll buy you some more spanx, if you want?" Jordan said, turning her 'puppy dog' eyes on me.
"You mean to say" I said pretending to be more outraged than I really was "that you could have gotten me back to normal on Friday!"
"Well… yes, I suppose. But… you never said you wanted to! Not to me!" Jordan protested.
I guess she was right. I had had an amazing weekend, full of revelations. I wasn't sure I was ready to stop playing yet, either…
"OK, if you want me to be your lesbian girlfriend that badly… I'll see how it goes tomorrow…" I said.
Jordan's face looked hopeful.
"You'll go to work as a woman tomorrow?" she said.
"Well, Cathy is expecting me to be there as Bobbi, so...yes" I said.
"And Tuesday?.." Jordan asked softly.
"One day at a time, for now." I said "I can't deny I've had a lot of fun these last few days, and my eyes have been opened to a much wider world. But, there's my Mum and others reactions to consider and I haven't met with some of the hardships and heartaches I'm sure are coming…"
"I'll help!" Jordan said "if you'll let me?"
"Ha! As if I could stop you! You are a force of nature, Jordan Carr, and I doubt even your Dad could stop you getting your way for long" I said.
"Good, as long as you know who wears the pants in this relationship!" Jordan said with satisfaction.
I glanced down at our bodies curled together and quipped "Isn't it best if neither of us do?!"