Julian - Part 6 free porn video

"Twirl for us then." I sighed deeply but did as I was told. The skirt of my new dress bellowed out slightly as I did so, causing a ripple of wind to tickle my spindly legs through the black tights the girls had made me wear. The women laughed riotously as I did this, although I noticed that Sara stopped before the others and wore a strange smile on her face instead. "Aww, how pretty," Anna said in a babyish tone, fingering the hem of the dress as she did so, "what a cute little dress you found for him. Oh, and I love what you did with his hair." "Her hair Mum, not his hair" Louise responded, "we need to get into practice before Ellie and Amy arrive. But you're right, we did do a good job with the hair." The girls had certainly been thorough in the half an hour that they'd had to get me ready. Louise had started by deftly applying light touches of makeup which definitely made me look younger than I had before, while Bethany rummaged excitedly through some of her old clothes until she found a perfect outfit. The outfit turned out to be a prom style black dress with an lightly pleated skirt that fell a few inches above me knee. It was worn with a thin red belt that circled my pathetically small waist, and the girls teemed it with flat black shoes and a couple of sparkly bracelets. It was obviously a pre-teen girls outfit, and the teenagers took great pleasure in saying how much it suited me. "I've never seen a man with such small features as you," Louise commented as she slipped a matching red hair-band into my now long blonde hair, "you must have felt quite inadequate as a man really." I shook my head, but the girl wasn't that far wide of the mark. There had been many times when my lack of height had been an embarrassment, mostly when with Fran, but also just in general life. I often wondered how my life might have been different if I hadn't inherited my mother's putrid genes. "Never mind though," the girl continued, "you don't have to worry about being big and strong tonight, little girls don't have to be any of those things after all." Bethany had been despatched to find some suitably "pretty" nail varnish from her collection, leaving me alone with Louise as she carefully brushed my hair, "You know, I don't know how you can put up with the shame of this Julia," she continued, "just think, you're about to sit with two silly little nine year old girls and you're going to be their equal. In fact, you're actually going to be even more girly than they are because I know they both wore trousers today." She stopped and smiled. "So you're going to be the only one in a dress. How humiliating is that?" "Why are you taking so much pleasure in this," I shot back, feeling my face go bright red, "what did I ever do to you?" She didn't reply, but gave a wicked smile that made me dislike her even more. She'd touched a nerve though, that was certain. How the hell could I let myself be turned into this delicate girly girl? How the hell could I stand the shame of sitting with a couple of 9 years olds and having to take part in their infantile and inane conversation? Just a few weeks ago I had had a heated discussion with Fran about the political situation in north Africa, now I was about to have to talk about Barbie and boy-bands while I wore a dress and training bra. At least there was light at the end of the tunnel, although I knew it was going to be far from easy to convince the girls that I was one of them. Firstly, despite my amazement at the little girl who looked back at me when I stared in the mirror, there was the still the possibility of some masculine feature letting me down. Louise had worked hard to conceal any trace of my Adam's apple, but what if they made it out? Perhaps they might even be clever enough to realise that I had a full set of adult teeth, or much larger feet than any 11 year old girl would have. I simply had to hope that they wouldn't be that insightful. Secondly, my knowledge of pre-teen mannerisms or interests could fit comfortably onto the back of a postage stamp, especially the mannerisms and interests of young girls. What slang words did they use now? What television programs and music were cool? Could I possibly display the kind of youthful exuberance that little girls could muster? This all led to the conclusion that my best course of action was to act the introvert and hope they took me for just a shy girl. After all, the less I said the less I could be tripped up on, so silence was undoubtedly the best option. Plus, I really didn't fancy talking about Barbie dolls anyway. When they had finished the makeover, Bethany led me excitedly downstairs by the hand where the women oohed and aahed and made me perform that embarrassing twirl in front of them. "When are Ellie and Amy getting here?" Louise asked, flopping down into one of the leather chairs in the front room. "Any minute now," Anna replied, tutting at the way her daughter had sat down, "oh, and we've ordered pizza for dinner. Why don't you two girls come into the kitchen and help me get some plates ready." Realising that she meant Louise and Bethany, not me, I slinked over to the free chair and sat down carefully. Sara, who had moved onto another bottle of wine now, was still staring at me with that contented smile on her face. I found the pleasure she seemed to take in my descent into girlhood increasingly unsettling. As I considered this, Sara's voice floated across the room, "Julia, come and sit with me." Feeling ever the child, I hauled myself back out of the chair and over to the clearly half-drunk woman. "There's no room," I said quietly, but before I had a chance to move away she'd lifted me effortlessly onto her lap and pulled me into an embrace. "You're so pretty," she cooed, running her hand gently along my hair before lowering her voice into a conspiratorial tone, "I wish you were my daughter you know, not Bethany." I was stunned by the statement. "You don't mean that." She sighed, "I do. You're just what I wanted in a daughter. You don't realise it but you're so sweet and polite," she hugged me in closer to her, "and you look so perfect in your little frocks with your blonde hair and blue eyes. We'd be so happy as mother and daughter. I'd look after you and buy you lots of nice clothes and dolls and all you'd have to do is be my little princess. You'd have a wardrobe that any little girl would kill for and I just know you'd grow to love the dresses that I buy for you." "I think you've had a bit too much to drink," I replied, "you've already got a daughter you know. Why on earth would you want a man as a daughter?" "C'mon sweetie, I wouldn't say you're really cut out to be a man are you? I mean, you should see Anna's husband. He's tall and dark and well-built and Anna tells me he captain of the local Rugby team. Now that's a man." "Why are you being horrible to me again?" "I'm not," she laughed, hugging me tightly once more, "but if you were like him I'd admit that you should be wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. But a little, delicate thing like you, well, I think this suits you more," she paused for a moment, twirling a lock of my hair in her fingers as she appeared to consider something, "you know Bethany told me that she hated me a couple of weeks ago. Nice, eh?" I didn't know what to say to that, and felt even more uncomfortable when I noticed that Sara's eyes had glazed over with tears. "Sorry," she sniffed, "I didn't mean to get all emotional. It's just, I think you could be happy here with me." "Sara, you promised that I could go if I fool these girls you'd let me go......." "I know, I know," she held up her hands, "but I can't help wanting what I want. Everybody can't wait to leave me and you don't know how much it hurts. My husband ran off, Bethany can't wait to be old enough to move away, my friends always find better friends." Her eyes had glazed over again. "You're still young Sara. You can meet another man, have another child. You've still got you whole life ahead of you." She shook her head and sighed, "I don't think so. What man wants to a divorcee with a teenage girl? Face it, you and me are on the same scrapheap I'm afraid." I felt a rise of indignation. "I don't know about that. I still think I can work things out with Fran....." "Ha! She's the worst of them. I wouldn't trust her in the slightest." I found myself taken aback at her frankness, but before I could respond the chime of the doorbell filled the front room. "Right, the girls are here," Sara said, running her hand across her eyes, "you go and stand over there." "What did you mean about Fran, Sara? Do you know something I need to know?" But she didn't answer, instead getting up to open the front door and patting me on the head in a matronly fashion, leaving me to once more consider the possible infidelities of my wife. Despite my small stature, there haven't been many occasions in my life when I have felt truly frightened. There was the time when I had to have my tonsils out and nearly had a panic attack at the thought of general anaesthetic, but who could blame a child for being scared of an operation? And there was the time I got detached from a group of friends on a night out while at university and had to walk home through a tough neighbourhood, which is slightly embarrassing but still fairly reasonable. Until this weekend though, I never thought I'd have to add meeting two 9 year old girls to that list. I couldn't work out why I suddenly felt so scared. I found myself almost trembling as Anna led little Ellie and her friend Amy into the front room and I cursed myself again for being so pathetic. What sort of man was I, that could be immediately intimidated by a couple of kids? "Ellie, Amy, this is Julia," Anna said, wasting no time. "Say hello." I was frozen to the spot, as the earlier confidence that I'd had in my appearance evaporated. Would they see through me straight away? Would they simply burst out laughing at the ridiculous man/girl that had been presented to them? Surely, surely they couldn't possibly think I was a girl. But I needn't of worried because the girls simply chorused an hello and before turning to Anna. "We've got homework to finish Mummy," Ellie said, tugging at Anna's hand impatiently, "it's got to be done tonight." The childish tone of the Ellie's voice made me wince as I realised that I would have to soften my own considerably, even if my voice was far from deep. "OK OK," Anna laughed and turned to Sara, who was smiling again now, "she's mad about homework this one." "Wait until she gets older," Sara replied, "why don't you girls put your bags down here and you can sit at the dining room table to do your homework." I watched as the pair of them sat their pink bags down by the chair and started pulling out their books and pens. Both girls were about half a foot smaller than me, but they felt bigger as they rushed excitedly to the table wearing their matching black school trousers and red jumpers. I felt a pang of shame as I remembered Louise's early comment about me being the only one of the three "little girls" in a dress and realised that she right about it being humiliating. "Julia, do you have any homework to do as well?" The voice was Anna's, and the question threw me. "I don't know," I stuttered, "I don't think so." Bethany, who was wearing her trademark wicked grin, wasn't going to let me off that easily, "I bet you do Julia. Why don't I go and get it for you while you sit at the table with the other girls." I looked around the room at the smiling women, who watched with something approaching glee as I shuffled nervously over to the table. But Ellie and Amy paid me no attention at all as I pulled up a chair on the other side of the table and sat down, because they were busy carefully laying out their vast array of coloured pens that they pulled endlessly from their matching polka-dot pencil cases. I took the opportunity to take a closer look at them. Ellie looked a lot like her mother, with the same piercing green eyes and dark hair, and it was clear she was going to grow up to be a pretty girl. Amy, who was apparently the "bossy" one, lacked the soft features of her friend and it made her look harsher. She had mousy brown hair in a long, messy ponytail that was flopped over her front right shoulder in a way that hid the St. Margarets Girl's School badge emblazoned her jumper. With another pang of self-loathing I realised they were both wearing the same jumper that the women had forced me to wear when they dressed me for the first time, although I had had to wear the pleated skirt of course, not the trousers like they were wearing. After a few moments Bethany returned with a school book and a pink and white striped pencil case. "Here you go Julia," she said, "I found your English book for you." Louise, who had been watching on intently, saw an opportunity. "Didn't you say you had to write about your favourite hobby Julia," she began, walking to the table to stand behind me, "are you going to write about your doll collection?" Amy, who to this point had been engrossed in lining up her pens, looked shocked, "you still play with dolls? Dolls are for babies." "Now now Amy," Louise replied, "be nice to Julia. Lots of 11 year olds still play with dolls." "Dolls are for babies," she repeated. "I stopped playing with dolls when I was like five or something." "Yeah," Ellie chimed in, "dolls are silly." "Good luck with these two little brats," Louise said, leaning down to whisper to me so the girls couldn't hear, "I'd suggest writing with your off hand to make it more believable." With a sigh I opened the pencil-case and pulled out the first pen I could find. Seeing my small hand with their glittery blue varnished nails wrapped around the Biro was a shock, and confused my brain momentarily as it tried to remember that it was looking at my hand. Then, remembering Louise's suggestion, I transferred the pen to my left hand, which felt immediately alien, and nervously opened the light orange book that Bethany had deposited in front of me. It was empty, so I flattened out the first page and considered what on earth to write. "You hold your pen funny," Amy commented as she looked up from her book, "Mrs. Adkins showed us to how our pens properly months ago." "Yeah look, this is how you should hold it," Ellie held up her blue pen proudly, "everyone knows that." Amy was becoming more interested in me now, "didn't you get taught how to hold your pen then?" The other women, who were sitting in the front room but within earshot, let out a collective giggle at the questioning but, remembering my tactic of saying as little as possible, I merely shrugged and focused on the blank page in front of me. It was hard to concentrate enough though to write when I had so many thoughts swirling through my mind. The good news was that I had learned the girls could only stay until 8 because Ellie's bedtime was at a quarter to 9, so I knew I only had 2 hours to endure before I could go free. However, that thought both excited and worried me, because I simply didn't know what I'd be going home to and whether my wife even wanted me any more. The fact of the matter is that I had become dependant on Fran in every way and the thought of being alone was terrifying. But at least I could me a man again of course. "Hey, why aren't you doing your homework?" Amy demanded to know, banging her pen down petulantly. "That's not fair. If we have to do our homework you should have to do yours." Ellie looked at her friend and threw her pen down too. "Yeah, that's not fair." "I've never seen you at school," Amy continued, talking over her friend, "do you go to St. Margarets?" I realised that the horror moment had come when I'd have to respond, "No," I said in my softest possible voice, surprising myself with just how childlike I could sound. The girl was unhappy with this answer. "Do you go to high school then? Which high school do you go to? Do you go to Brayhill?" "My sister goes to Brayhill, but she finishes next year," Ellie chimed in proudly. "Err no," I responded, staring firmly at the blank page in front of me, "I've only just moved here." Amy, now clearly in the mood for questioning, had another one. "How come your mum lets you wear nail varnish if you're only 11? My mum says I can't wear it until I'm 13." "I don't know," came my quiet reply, trying to believe that I was discussing nail varnish with a 9 year old girl. "I don't like your nail varnish anyway, it's really ugly," she declared, shaking her head. I couldn't believe my luck. As if it wasn't bad enough that I'd forced into this ridiculous situation I also had to put with the fact that the girls wanted to be mean and horrible to me. It was quickly dispelling any notion I had of little girls being all sweetness and light, that was for sure! Louise and Bethany came in holding three plastic cups, "how are you girls getting on? We've brought you some juice," Bethany declared, placing the cup she was holding in front of me, "are you being nice to your new friends Julia?" I looked up at her, the nose-splint she was wearing an awful reminder of why I was in this situation. "Yes, I think so," I said in my new "girl" voice, the sound of which made Bethany giggle. "That's good," she replied, "we've got pizza coming soon so you all need to finish your homework quickly. Then Julia can show you girls her room - she's got loads of dolls you can play with." "Dolls are stupid," Amy repeated yet again. "Yeah, I wouldn't go there Bethany," Louise laughed, "Ellie and Amy are too grown up to play with dolls." "Well, they haven't seen Julia's though. She can show you her princess Barbie that she plays with." "I wasn't playing with that doll," I responded, trying not to get angry, "I was just looking at it." "Yeah right, anyway we'll leave you girls to finish your school-work," she laughed, placing an emphasis on the word girls before heading back into the front room. Amy was ready again with the questions. "Is she your big sister?" I shook my head, and took a sip from the yellow cup that I'd been presented with before gulping the rest of it down. The juice was so diluted it tasted like water, but I was thirsty. I turned back to the book in front of me and started to write, "My favourite hobby is my doll collection, which I started 5 years ago." It was incredibly difficult to write left handed, and it made the words look very childish. "You write like a baby," Amy giggled, "we're 8 and we have better writing than you. And why are you so quiet?" It went on like this for the next ten minutes, with Amy finding an endless supply of questions to put to me and with me trying to evade them as best possible. The women, camped in the front room and half- watching the television, failed on a couple of occasions to hide their mirth at the situation and let out some high pitched giggles at particularly girly back and forths. These included such heavyweight questions such as "am I good at Netball" and "do I have a boyfriend', the last of which the women found incredibly hilarious. Thankfully, as my mind started to collapse under the weight of the inquisition, Sara called out that the pizza had arrived and that us girls should come into the front room. Amy and Ellie bounced ahead excitedly, while I slinked in behind with a face still burning from the shame of my childish conversations. However, I soon regretted not making an effort to get into the room quicker because Amy greedily snapped up the last chair, leaving Ellie and I to sit on the floor. The women watched eagled eyed as I knelt down delicately, mindful of not letting the dress ride too far up my legs and I felt my face go red again at the feminine motion that I had just undertaken. Bethany, who had snorted with laughter while watching me sit on the floor, was in mood to give me an easy time of it, making sure I got only got one piece of pizza like Ellie while everyone else (even including Amy) had two or three slices. But even then I found it hard to eat only one slice, and I wondered was it possible that my mind was reacting to my new lowly status? It was certainly true that I'd eaten very little in the last few days and I wondered if I'd lost any weight, which I could hardly afford to do. After we'd finished eating, Bethany, who was clearly trying her best to stop me succeeding at my task, turned the conversation immediately girly, "Ellie, do you like wearing dresses like Julia does?" The little girl turned to face me, her blonde hair swinging wildly as she did so. "I don't really wear dresses like that," she replied, "I think your dress is nice though Julia." I muttered a thank you, feeling incredibly self-conscious as I did so, before Bethany continued. "You're not wearing your summer dress to school at the moment then? Julia's been wearing hers, haven't you Julia?" "I didn't think you were allowed to wear summer dresses to high school?" Amy chimed in, racing through her second slice of pizza, "are you still in junior school Julia?" I looked over at Sara for some reason, and was surprised to see she wasn't smiling but looked thoughtful instead. "Err yes," I stuttered, averting my eyes down to the floor. "Julia looks so sweet in her summer dress," Bethany added, "I was so jealous. You always wear skirts and dresses though don't you J? You're such a little girly girl, not like I was at all." Bethany stared at me to see if I was going to rise to the bait, but she hadn't reckoned on my silent approach that was going to get me through this last hour of hell. I was confident now, it felt like nothing could stop me, especially not the weak efforts of a dim-witted thirteen year old girl. Because I was still a man, despite the best efforts of these evil women. When dinner was finished, Anna told us to clear our homework books away and that we could play for an hour. It was made clear of course that the three of us should play together, as the women settled down to watch a soap opera. "Go on Julia, show Amy and Ellie your room," Bethany said, with barely disguised joy, "you girls play nicely together though." Amy, clearly unimpressed with having to play with me, stormed ahead of Ellie and I to get upstairs first. "Which one is your room then?" she asked impatiently. "Do you have anything good we can do?" "Err, I'm not sure," I replied, opening the door to "my room" and immediately feeling silly about the unicorn pictures on the walls. "Oh that's one's really pretty," Ellie commented, pointing at the large pink haired unicorn poster over the bed, "I like that one a lot." "Unicorns are rubbish," Amy scorned, shaking her head. "Yeah, unicorns are rubbish," Ellie chimed, forgetting her fondness for the poster straight away and shaking her head as well. I stood nervously in the corner of the room, catching my reflection in the mirror at one point and being amazed all over again at the silly little creature I had become. I looked so small and helpless, even surrounded by these nine year old girls, that it made me think about what Sara had said about me belonging in dresses and tights and knickers and bras and all the other things that inhabit the world of girl. She was wrong of course, but looking at myself looking so tiny in that mirror made me question what kind of man I would ever be after this. "Hey, look at her Barbie DVD, how stupid," Amy giggled, with her friend joining in of course. "I don't like it," I replied, not too sure why I felt the need to. "Don't you have a Wii or a Playstation or anything," Amy continued, clearly amazed at my lack of cool things to do, "it's rubbish here. I'm going to see what Bethany has got in her room." "I don't think we should," Ellie protested, "Julia's mum said we had to play in her room." "It's boring," she replied, heading out onto the hallway. Ellie turned to look at me. "Are we allowed do you think?" "I don't think so," I replied, "I think we have to stay in here." The girl considered this for a moment, before realising that the excitement of seeing Bethany's room was too great to turn down. "No let's go," she said eventually, grabbing me by the hand and fairly hauling me out with her. "It's much better in here," Amy said triumphantly as we opened Bethany's door, "look at all the cool make-up she has." The said make up was still scattered loosely on the vanity table from where I'd sat earlier while Louise had worked on me. Amy, becoming almost over excited, sat at the table and picked up a lip gloss before clumsily applying it to herself. "Hey, I want to try that," Ellie pleaded, grabbing the pink tube from her friend and muscling in on the mirror space. "That's not how you do it stupid," Amy admonished, grabbing back the gloss before turning to face me, "do you want to try it or not?" "I'm OK," I replied feebly, causing the girl to shrug. Amy quickly bored of the make-up table though, and headed for the wardrobe. "Wow, look at all her clothes," she remarked, "hey, shall we try stuff on?" I began to protest. "I don't think we should..." "Yeah," Ellie said, excitedly jumping from the vanity table and cutting me off mid-sentence, "what does she have in there?" The girls rummaged around noisily as I sat on the bed, counting down the clock. Only fifty minutes to go now, I was nearly there! This was going to be easy. Of course, I hadn't reckoned on Bethany, "Hey, you shouldn't be in here," she yelled half heartedly as she appeared in the doorway with Louise, causing the 9 year olds to laugh at their own mischievousness. Louise, who had been surprisingly quiet all night came and sat next to me on the bed while Bethany joined the girls to show off her wardrobe. "How are you getting on with these two?" She asked, with a tone of kindness that took me aback. "I'm nearly there," I replied, "I can't tell you how good it will be to wear men's clothes again." "Hmm, I don't know, I think you're going to miss the girls clothes." "Ha, no way," I scoffed, "you just don't understand how much I hate this." Louise looked ponderous for a moment before standing up suddenly, "hey I know a game you girls can play. Have you ever played families?" "Families, what like pretend families," Amy replied, holding a skirt against herself, "that's no fun." "Yes it is," Louise countered, "I tell you what we should do, one of you should be the daddy, one the mummy and one the baby girl." I immediately saw Bethany's eyes light up as she caught on to Louise's idea, "that's a great idea. We'd make the mummy look all grown up with lots of make-up." "Oh yeah," Ellie cried, "let's do that. Can I be the mum?" "No way," Amy responded, "I want to be the mum!" Ellie wasn't going to let the chance to wear make-up go begging. "No I said it first." "Ok, ok, you can both be the grown ups then," Louise laughed, "now who should be the little girl I wonder?" I could only sigh as all eyes turned to me. "Please no," I begged, "please don't." "Yeah, Julia has to be the baby girl," Bethany cried excitedly, "and you two have to be her mummy!" Before I could remonstrate further, and I wanted to believe me, Louise had plonked the two nine year olds down at the vanity and had started applying some crude make up. "Bethany, why don't you get the baby girl ready," she suggested as she ran some dark lip gloss over Ellie's mouth. "Of course, I'd be happy to," Bethany replied gleefully. "C'mon Bethany, don't go mad, we've only got forty minutes left." "Plenty of time baby," she said spitefully, grabbing me by the hand. So it came to pass that I was introduced to my new "mummies" ten minutes later with Bethany's handiwork complete. Bethany had taken me back to my room and then gone back to find an outfit. Unsurprisingly she had found the most childish pink dress she could, which to my horror I noted was a girls 6-7 year old size. It didn't really fit, Bethany had to leave three of the buttons undone and the frilly hem of the dress barely covered by backside, but it was deemed perfect for a baby like I. The horror didn't end there though, as I made to wear a very childish pair of Barbie knickers in a pastel yellow, which could clearly be seen every time I bent over, and had my hair pulled back into two oversized pig tails with matching pink ribbons that flowed down to meet the lacy top of the dress. I was given the princess Barbie back to hold, which I clutched to my chest at the command of the evil thirteen year old in front of me. "Bethany, this dress is too short," I protested before being led back, "I can't let the girls see my underpants or they might know I'm a man." "Hmm," she replied, but she obviously didn't care. "Bethany I'm serious, I can't wear this...." "You'll be fine," she laughed, "there's nothing to see anyway, except the silly little Barbie knickers. I just can't believe they fit you, well actually I can. Now, kneel down and crawl in back to my room." "No way!" "Yes way, unless you want me to tell the girls you're really a man?" I looked at her for a moment. "I'll get you for this," I said, but I knew it sounded unconvincing. "Ha, I'm really scared. Now get crawling, little baby girls can't walk yet. Oh, and you're not allowed to talk except to make baby noises." "For crying out loud Bethany, how young am I supposed to be?" "It's fun," she laughed, before turning serious, "and maybe next time you'll think twice about punching me." Knowing that at least I was nearly finished with this torture, I got down on my hands and knees and started to crawl in, doll in hand. The girls laughed heavily when they saw me and I hung my head in shame, realising just how far I'd fallen in the short time since I'd come into this house with my wife. Gradually the women had taken away every aspect of my manhood, now they had even taken away the girlhood that I'd been forced to experience, and all that was left was a ridiculous baby on her hands and knees. "She looks silly," Amy, who was now wearing lots of lipstick and eye- shadow and wore a black dress over her uniform, snorted, "she's too big to be a baby." "It's make believe," Louise sighed, "now, you three play nicely. Now remember that Julia has to be the baby so she's not allowed to use grown up words. And if she doesn't do as she's told you should come and tell us. C'mon Bethany, let's leave them to it." "Aw, I want to watch," she replied, but Louise whispered something in her ear that convinced her otherwise. Ellie, who was also now wearing dark lip gloss and heavy purple eye- shadow, came closer to inspect me, "say goo-goo baby," she laughed. I stared at her for a moment trying to work out just how it had come to this. "C'mon baby Julia," Ellie said in her best grown up voice, "you have to do as your mummy tells you. Say goo-goo for mummy like a big girl." I just couldn't bring myself to believe that I now at the mercy of these two little girls. But mindful of the clock ticking away and the risk of Bethany letting my secret slip, I let out a pathetic baby noise and the girls laughed. "This is fun," Amy giggled, "hey, say goo-goo for me too." Sighing, I repeated the noise and they laughed again. I suppose it's not often that 9 year old girls get to be in charge of someone, and they looked at each other in amazement that I would do as they told me to. Not wanting to miss the opportunity they got me to sit cross legged on the floor, which I knew shamefully exposed my underwear, and suck my thumb like "a baby should." "You're wearing Barbie knickers," Ellie commented. "I used to have a pair like that but I'm too old for them now." The shame of the situation continued as the girls pretended that they'd just come home from work while I was expected to crawl around aimlessly. They admonished me by calling me a bad baby girl when I accidentally crawled into one of them, which unfortunately happened just as Bethany and Louise re-appeared. Of course they had Sara and Anna in tow now, and the two old women burst out laughing at my new appearance. "What an adorable baby girl you make Julia," Anna cooed, coming over to pat my head and bringing with her a stench of alcohol, "are you playing nicely with your mummies?" "She can't talk," Ellie told her mum proudly, "but she'll make baby noises if I tell her to." "Well go on then," Anna replied, smiling, "let's hear it." Twenty minutes to go I thought, as I responded to the request obediently. The women laughed loudly again, followed by a round of "Aahs." "Hey, look what we found at the back of one of the cupboards," Bethany said, giving me a sly smile and holding a yellow babies bottle, "we've got some lovely juice for the baby, who wants to give it to her?" The girls could barely contain their excitement at the thought of feeding their new baby, and Amy was given the first chance. She sat on the bed and was fairly bouncing up and down in anticipation as I was made to lay down next to her and put my head on her lap. "C'mon baby," the girl said, holding the back of my hand with her childish hand and inserting the bottle into my mouth, "drink it all up like a good girl." I knew I shouldn't have allowed this. No price was great enough to suffer this almost ultimate degradation of being bottle fed by a little girl, but I reasoned that I was almost there now. So I closed by eyes and started sucking from the t?te of the bottle, which filled my mouth with more of the tame over diluted juice that I'd had earlier. I know it sounds pathetic, but it was almost, almost soothing in a way, or at least it would have been if I wasn't so worried about "my" pink dress riding too far up my waist. About a minute in I heard the unmistakeable sound of the doorbell, and my heart leapt with joy because Amy's mum had obviously come earlier than expected. Ellie also realised this, and made Amy relinquish control of the feeding to her. So, what I hoped would be my final humiliation began as Ellie very gently lifted my head, whispering, "What a good girl," before putting the bottle softly to my lips. I began to drink again, but opened my eyes this time to see Ellie looking down proudly, her crude make-up glimmering in the light. The bottle began to represent my freedom as I raced to gulp down what was left despite its insipid taste, and I felt a rush of excitement as I realised I was coming to the end. I was sure that Sara would hold up her end of the bargain, so I was only a few ounces away from victory. "Oh my God," came a familiar voice from the doorway, and I swung my head around quickly to see Fran standing with hand to mouth looking more shocked than I had ever seen before. "Hey you haven't finished," Ellie complained, trying to push the bottle back into my mouth. "Fran, I can explain everything," I said quickly, discarding any girly lilt to my voice, "they were going to let me go, I was only doing this so I could go." Amy looked puzzled, "who are you? Are you her mummy? Why does she call you Fran?" But Fran was stunned into silence, and still had her hand to her mouth. She pulled it away for a second and started to say something, but instead she simply turned and went back downstairs. I had to follow her, so I leapt from the bed and headed for the door, only to find Bethany blocking the way. "Let me go Bethany, I need to talk to her." "Just move me out of the way then," she said cruelly, "surely you're strong enough for that." I barged into her, but I quickly realised once again that she was stronger, "You haven't finished here yet Julia, the girls have fifteen minutes before they go." "Bethany please, I'm desperate." But she remained in the doorway with arms crossed across her jumper. "You're not going to punch me again are you?" "She punched you?" Amy asked. "Why did you punch her?" I wasn't going to hit her of course, but I considered once last charge at her until I heard the door shut below and then the unmistakeable sound of Fran driving away. I could swear the Sara had yelled something angrily after her, but I couldn't make out what it was. Bethany was grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Now then, you have to finish your bottle. Go on Ellie, get back on the bed." I held my head in my hands, with the over the top pink pigtails that fell into my grasp reminding me of my ridiculous appearance. What on earth must Fran of thought when she'd walked into the room to see me being bottle fed by a little girl? What must she of thought of her husband wearing a little girls pink party dress with hair in pigtails and ribbons? I only hoped that she couldn't see the Barbie knickers as well, but it seemed likely that she had. Of course she had known that Sara was going to make me be her daughter, they had both agreed it after all, but she must have been shocked to see me in such a babyish outfit. The worst thing is, did she think I was enjoying all of this? Surely not. "C'mon Julia, finish your bottle," Ellie demanded, patting her lap. Feeling thoroughly defeated and not really know what else to do, I climbed back onto the bed and resumed my position. Bethany and Louise went back downstairs, and Amy came to sit next to me on the bed. The one good thing is that the girls hadn't twigged what was going on, and still thought I was a girl, although that didn't say much for the masculinity of my real voice. "You're a bad baby girl for punching Bethany," Amy said, moving closer to me. "Why did you do that?" I couldn't answer of course with the t?te of the bottle in my mouth, and I wouldn't have done anyway. But Amy was bored, and had found a new person to bully, "Look at your silly pigtails," she laughed, before pulling one of them hard. I spat the bottle, which was empty now, out. "Don't do that," I said angrily, although remembering to use my "girl" voice again. "You can't make me," she laughed, "you're just a silly baby." Then she pulled the other pigtail, which hurt a little more this time. "Amy that hurts." "No talking, baby," she taunted, "you're such a stupid baby. Look at your silly dress." Then she pulled the left pigtail again. I could feel myself getting angry, but it wasn't really with this silly little girl but more at my own inadequacies. I had let these women humiliate me to the point of no return, and I'd been too gutless to stop it. I should have walked out of the house on that fateful first night when the women had made me arm wrestle. I should have told Sara to go to hell and call the police if she wanted to after I had broken Bethany's nose. I should have refused to let them turn me into the effeminate creature that they'd reduced me to. But I hadn't, and this was the result. All of this was reason why Amy shouldn't have pulled on my pigtail a fourth time. "If you do that again you'll be sorry," I sneered. "Ha ha," she said mockingly pulling both pigtails again, "I'm not scared of you." Blinded by anger at the world, I reached out and pulled moderately hard on her ponytail. The girl looked at me for a split second, as it wondering what the best possible reaction would be, before bursting into an Oscar winning fit of tears with wails of anguish. "Hey, come on," I said, panicked, "it wasn't that hard." But this only made the girl cry harder, and the women soon came rushing upstairs, Sara first, followed by Anna and then the teenagers. "What on earth is going on in here?" Sara asked, looking extremely angry. I wondering for a split second about the yell I thought I'd heard when Fran left. "She pulled my ponytail really hard," the girl sobbed, pointing at me, "it really hurts." Sara looked at me. "Is this true? Did you pull her ponytail?" "Oh for crying out loud! I hardly touched her! She was pulling my hair really hard and I barely touch her...." But Sara, looking absolutely livid now, had heard enough, "where does it end with you?" Before I could argue, she'd picked me up and thrown me over her shoulder. I could smell the alcohol on her breath as I tried to pull away pathetically. "If you can't play nicely with the girls then you'll have to go to bed," she stormed, "Bethany, go and find a nightie for her to wear please." Bethany, looking as pleased as punch, rushed off to grab something as I was carried into my room and put down on the bed. "Take that silly dress off," Sara demanded. "Sara please, I hardly touched her." "TAKE IT OFF," she shouted. Shamefully I could feel tears filling my eyes as Bethany came in holding a pink nightie. She wanted to stay, but Sara was in no mood and made her leave. Then she pulled the pink dress of my pathetic frame and pulled the plain pink nightie over my head. "Sit at the table," was the next order she gave, and I meekly sat down in front of the mirror while she took my hair out of the pigtails. "I just can't believe you," she said angrily, "what kind of man pulls a little girls hair?" "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." "I've been too nice to you, you haven't learnt your lesson," she raged, brushing my hair harshly now. "Sara, that hurts," I protested pathetically. "Don't be such a baby," she replied, "you know, we're going to start doing this properly tomorrow. If you insist on acting like a little girl then it's time I started to treat you like one properly, not the silly little games we've been playing. Now, get into bed." "But Sara, it's only 8 o'clock. I need to talk to Fran, you need to let me go." "Just forget about Fran OK? That stuff doesn't concern you any more. Now get into bed before I give you a smack." "Sara you said I could go if I convinced those two girls, you said...." "Just be quiet," she snapped, "from now on I don't want to hear about you being a man, understand? If you want to behave like a silly girl then that's what you'll be, and we'll be going outside too." "Sara no!" "I don't want to hear it. Get into bed!" Very reluctantly, but feeling shamefully scared of the woman in front of me, I swung my bare little legs onto the bed and Sara pulled up the peach duvet. "Here," she said, placing a doll into my hand, "make sure you sleep with that. It's time you really got to live like a girl now. I don't want to hear another word out of you tonight young lady. Do you understand?" "Yes," I said, sulkily. "Yes what?" "Yes mummy." "That's better." Then she turned off the light and closed the door, leaving me to think about how the hell I could have done this to myself yet again. It will come as no surprise to learn that I slept only fitfully all night. Firstly, it was bizarre trying to go to sleep while it was light outside, so for a long time I simply laid wide awake, metronomically considering my situation. At first I was consumed with the idea of escaping to see Fran. I wanted to reason with her, to tell her to call off these evil women and let me come home and be her man again. I wanted to convince her that I derived no enjoyment or pleasure from the situation and that I could prove to her that we should still be together. I was desperate to touch her face again and to hold her, so much so that it hurt. However, as the night-time took over from the day and the natural light faded away, darker, scarier thoughts started to creep in. I realised I wasn't sure if I could even face her after the sheer humiliation of the night before. All my life I'd tried hard not to let my lack of height or my soft features be an issue, but how could we ever ignore it again as a couple after the events of the last few days? How could she ever be satisfied with a unemployed weakling of a man such as I when she could go out and get herself a real man who'd look after her properly and almost certainly never end up wearing a pink dress while being bottle fed by a girly little nine year old. Then there was Sara to consider, and her strange relationship with my wife. Had her anger last night really been about me innocuously pulling Amy's hair or was it down to an argument with Fran? Either way, it didn't bode well for me, and I wondered about the ramifications as I finally drifted off into a unsatisfying, dreamless sleep. The sound of curtains being pulled back and the unpleasant feeling of strong light hitting my face were my first warnings that it was time to get up. Sara, wearing a plain long white t-shirt as a nightdress and with her hair pulled up into a ponytail, looked surprisingly full of energy after the excesses of the day before, "C'mon," she said, "get up and come down to breakfast. I've got a lot to do today." I followed her meekly downstairs, still trying to get my eyes and brain into focus. Bethany was already at the table, also wearing a long t- shirt as a nightie, but I was surprised that she passed no comment as I sat down next to her. Sara, who was speeding around like she had a rocket strapped to her back, slapped two bowls of cornflakes down in front of us and warned me not to take too long about it before she headed back upstairs. "You're in trouble now," Bethany said sleepily after her mother had left, "so much trouble." I stared into my bowl of cereal, "I know. I don't know what came over me. I just want to get out of this mess and get home now." "Well, I wouldn't count on that happening soon," the girl replied, shaking her head, "you've become her new project now." "What?" "One of her silly little hobbies that she finds to fill her boring life. You know, like the book club or when she joined the gym or joining the PTA when I was at junior school. She loves to have a pet project," she rubbed the splint that covered her damaged nose, "she's always been disappointed in me because I wasn't what she thought her daughter would be. God, she always goes on at me to be more ladylike and to wear stupid dresses. Do you know how much I'd get laughed at if I wore what she buys me? And I don't even want to know what all this weird stuff is with her and Fran. She's so messed up, it's embarrassing." "I'd really like to go home," I repeated, for want of anything else to say, "I don't want to be stuck like this." Bethany, with a disgusted look on her face, pushed her bowl of cereal away. "God you're so pathetic," she said , before mimicking me loudly "oh my life is so hard, oh please don't dress me up a like a baby." She shook her head, "the only people who you fight are girls, you're not even brave enough to stand up to my mum or your wife." "I didn't mean to hurt anyone," I began, but Bethany was in mood to listen to me. "God, when I pulled that party dress out, which by the way I wore when I was like 5 years old or something, I never thought you'd really put it on. You're supposed to be a man for crying out loud! Oh no Bethany it's too short, oh no Bethany the girls will see my underpants, oh no Bethany I'm such a loser." "That's not fair, I just wanted to win the bet so I could go home. You said you'd tell them I wasn't a girl if I didn't wear it." "You're so stupid! I bet you any money that mum called Fran up last night and told her to come round because she knew you'd do something stupid if she did. She was never going to let you go, couldn't you see that?" She paused for a moment, shaking her head, "Louise thinks you like all of this. She reckons that you like the idea of becoming a girl and that you're sabotaging yourself. That's why you pulled Amy's hair and punched me, because you knew what would happen." "That's not true! I'm hating every second of this." I wanted to continue the argument, but it was broken up by the sound of the doorbell. "Could one of you two get the door please," Sara called down, "I'm expecting a delivery." "You go," Bethany said with a smile. "I can't get the door like this, I mean look at me!" The teenager looked me up and down. "You look like a pretty girl in her nightie, what's the big deal?" "I'm not getting it, no way." The doorbell rang again. Sara sounded angry this time, "will one of you get the door please! I'm in the bath for crying out loud." "Go on," Bethany said, looking ever the mean teenage girl, "I think you'll be in more trouble than me if you don't." "Aargh, I hate this house," I moaned, standing up from the table and going to the door. In my anger I almost forgot about my appearance, but the terror of being seen came flooding back as I opened the door. The delivery man was tall, with jet black hair and huge hands which he used to place two large bags over the threshold, "are these OK there sweetie?" "Um, yes they're fine," I murmured, putting on my "girl" voice once more. He handed me an electronic device to sign. Almost without thought I took it in my left hand and messily signed as J. Tyler. "I need your first name pet," he said, totally unaware that he was dealing with anything other than a young girl. "Err, it's Julia," I said, desperate to close the door, "thanks then." He turned away and I breathed a huge sigh of relief as my first time having to fool an adult concluded successfully. I turned to the large grey bags and picked them up, noticing straight away that they were addressed to me. Well, not me exactly, but Julia Tyler. How on earth could they be for me? Sara called down and told me to put them on her bed. "They're addressed to me," I enquired, "what are they?" "Just bring them up please." When I got into Sara's room she out of the bath and was wearing a purple bathrobe. "I got them put in your name for a bit of fun," she said as I came in, "why don't you open them?" I put one back down and opened the other on the bed. A whole pile of girls clothing fell out and I winced at the sight of it. Sara, looking very happy with herself, came over to look, "I couldn't help myself," she said, "I didn't want you to just to have Bethany's old clothes so I ordered some stuff yesterday morning. I took a little bit of a guess on the sizing, but I think we'll be OK." I picked up one item, which I thought was a top but actually turned out to be a "swing dress." I knew this because it said so on the label, which also informed me that it was size 11-12 years. There was a also a picture on the label of a blonde girl wearing it happily with sparkly shoes and black tights. "Oh I liked that," Sara said, "that will suit you perfectly." "Sara, what you doing? This is madness." "Oh and look at this," she continued, ignoring me totally and holding a short skirt that looked more like a tutu. She held it against my waist in a way that meant I could feel the soft fabric rub through the nightie, "this is so pretty," she cooed, "look at the little side bow and everything, oh it's perfect." "Sara, c'mon...." "Hey, I told you last night to call me mummy. I sighed, "this is silly." "No it's not," she replied casually, "this is what you life is going to be for a while, especially after last nights performance. Now go into the bathroom and get ready." "Ready for what?" "Just get ready and we'll talk about it afterwards. I'm going to go put all this in your wardrobe while you're getting washed." I had been instructed to make sure I was "smooth" all over, but to my shame I realised that very little work was needed on that front. When I headed back into my room I saw that Sara had laid out an outfit for the day, which she stood next to, smiling, "Do you like it?" I walked over to take a closer look. There was a short red and black tartan pleated skirt which had three plastic buttons running down the front, a black long sleeved top with ruffles on one of the shoulders and a pair of flat black shoes that had a small bow on either toe. It was terrible. "Oh and look at your wardrobe now," said an enthusiastic Sara, opening one of the doors to reveal a whole rack of clothes that almost made me feel sick. It wasn't only clothes though, I noted a three pairs of shoes and boots lined out neatly as well and Sara had also filled a draw with knickers and vests. "I went a bit mad," she laughed, "but I used his credit card so it doesn't matter." "Sara, how long are you planning on doing this for? You can't expect me to wear everything here." She rolled her eyes. "You're going to love it. Now come on, you need to get dressed." There was very little privacy afforded to me in the dressing process any more. The only time Sara looked away is when she handed me a pair of plain white knickers to wear, as she seemed to delight in putting the clothes on me. She also seemed to be very happy doing my hair, which was left in a side parting with my blonde locks falling down either shoulder. There was a little bit of make-up as well, just enough to hide and small remnants of masculinity, but she did draw on the "freckles" again, which made me feel about 2 years old. At least all in all I had been allowed to dress like a slightly older girl again, rather than the young girl that Bethany and Louise had turned me into. Such minor victories were all I could hope for any more. "What's the big rush today anyway?" I asked, as Sara lightly sprayed me with some perfume from a pink bottle. "Oh there's lots to do today," she replied, "but I don't want to ruin the surprise. C'mon then, let's go." "Go where?" "Go out silly, I told you yesterday that we were going to go out today." "You've got to be kidding me! I thought that was just because you were angry." "Oh no, we've got a full day planned, why do you think I put this nice dress on?" She pointed to the black and yellow knee length dress that she was wearing, which I had hardly noticed. "Sara..." "Ah ah ah, you mean mummy." I rolled my eyes. "OK, sorry. Look, I'm begging you not to make me go outside like this. What if someone sees me that we know?" She looked confused. "Like who? Fran tells me you don't really have any friends." I felt stung by the comment but tried to ignore it. "What if people can tell? What would happen then, hey? How the hell could we expla...." "Sssh up," she replied, "no one is going to tell as long as you don't do anything silly. Blimey, even I forget sometimes that you're a man now." "Please, I beg you. I'll be good from now on. I'll never hurt anyone again, I'll never......" "Forget about all that," she smiled, hugging me, "you look so delectable in that little outfit, it makes me so happy." But with Bethany's words about not fighting back ringing in my ears, I decided to stand my ground. "I won't do it Sara. This has gone too far. Your own daughter is confused by this now, you're losing the plot and I...." To my surprise, the woman pulled me up by the hand and started leading me back into her room. "Sara what are you doing," I cried, trying to pull back, "I won't do this." "You're annoying me now," she replied angrily, "I tried to be nice to you this morning. I bought you all of those nice clothes and you still won't do as you're told." She was heading back into her room. "Why are we going in there Sara? What are you doing?" She almost threw me onto the bed, and pulled down the white box that she had shown me a few days previously. "Do you remember this dress? The one with the pretty sash and the lovely petticoat? Do you remember me warning you what would happen if you didn't do as I told you?" "What does it matter any more," I replied, feeling myself welling up with self-pitying tears, "what does one stupid outfit or another matter? Why won't you let me go Sara?" Sara paused for a moment and then came to sit next to me, "you know seeing you pretend to be that baby yesterday made me realise that maybe I've done this wrong. Perhaps you need to be a baby girl full time, because I'm not sure you're mature enough to be a girl." "Sara I'm a man for crying out loud, of course I'm mature." "Oh yes, it's very mature to pull a little girls hair" she continued, "you'd make a very sweet little toddler I think. I could buy you lots of little denim skirts and pinafore dresses, would you like that?" "Of course I wouldn't, you crazy woman." "I'd put your hair back into cute little pigtails, oh and maybe we'd get you some training pants in case you have a little accident, because that can happen to toddlers like you. Perhaps when you're all dressed up in one of your pretty outfits I'll take you round to see Fran, so she can see the cute little toddler. Is that what we need to do, hey? Is that the only way you'll stop being naughty?" Pathetically I could feel myself start to cry harder now. "Please no, I don't want her to see my like that again." The woman stood up. "See, your grown up tartan skirt doesn't seem so bad now, does it Missy? Right, we really need to get going, I've got a lot to do today and we've already wasted time." She held out her hand, and through the tears I watched my own small hand disappear into her grasp.