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Louise Jayne Spenser When an international group took over my company's operations, the inevitable changes in working practices meant that my services were apparently no longer considered necessary and I was left, thanks only to British law, with a fairly hefty redundancy settlement and nothing to do. I owned my own house with no mortgage, my car with no outstanding hire purchase debt and I had no commitments that would take large amounts of capital. In fact, I had no commitments whatsoever above about ten pounds and so I was able to sit down and decide slowly and rationally what I wanted to do with my life. In truth, I hadn't got very far in the month or so since severance. I still had no idea what I wanted to do for the rest of my working life and I was certainly living within my means. The interest accruing on the combination of the Job Seeker's Allowance, my original savings and my redundancy payment, all in a high interest account, was considerably more than my rather frugal monthly expenditure, so there was no rush, was there? My job had been so specialised that the chances of a positive reply to my rather half-hearted applications to local companies for work were remote, to put it mildly. But they did keep the Job Seeker's Allowance coming in for the time being. I could sit still and slowly grow richer, couldn't I? Except that I knew I couldn't stand the total idleness much longer. It was slowly driving me to distraction. I was not the only one to lose my job and Helen Jacobs, who had been the departmental training supervisor and a long term friend met up with me in town on several occasions just to talk and commiserate - or at least to congratulate each other over the size of our redundancy settlements! Several others had been 'released' at the same time, but they all appeared to have dived straight back into the rat race and the greasy pole and we rarely saw any of them. Full-time employment swallowed them up again almost immediately. About the third time we met in a down-town caf?, however, we were both already feeling somewhat bored and 'down' when Helen finally broke the spell. "You know, Luke, I have always had this feeling that I would have liked to have had a brother or sister. My parents are both gone, I'm an only child and I feel very lonely at times. There is no way I would want to get married, that isn't my style at all, as I think you know, but some longer term company would be really nice." Jokingly, and following the exact context of her comment, I blurted out "Well, which do you want me to be? Your brother or your sister?" There was several second's silence when I thought I had just blown a long and close friendship before she looked me straight in the eye and said simply, "Sister, please." There were quite a few more seconds of silence before I could re-gather my own shattered thoughts sufficiently to answer that! "You are pulling my leg, aren't you? Because I honestly thought I was pulling yours." "I'm serious, actually," she said. "I suppose I would prefer to have another woman around the house, but there isn't one at the moment and I don't see anyone on the horizon either. There's no way I really want a man there, but we get on so well - we always did at work, as well - that I just wondered what your reaction would be if I said it. I know I was taking a chance, but your reaction was better than I expected. I just hoped I hadn't blown a good friendship away." Snap! My thoughts exactly. My initial reaction was actually one of shock and disbelief at what I had just heard, but she persuaded me to go with her to the local park where we could sit in the sunshine and talk it over much more privately and in more detail without any chance of being overheard. We could sell both of our houses, she said, and buy one in a nice isolated area and live there together. She would then do everything needed to turn me into her sister. I didn't need to worry about a thing. Not worry? I was worried, of course. Very worried. What on earth was she talking about? I voiced these fears, but she said to think about it for a week and then we would meet up as usual, but in the park again, and talk about it in more detail. If I didn't turn up, she would know she had made a very big mistake and I had her promise that, if that were the case, she would never cross my path again. We were just too good friends for me to just walk away and never talk to her again and so, a week later, despite considerable trepidation, I was there as she had asked, although with a great deal of concern and not at least a little thought of turning round and walking away. She made it very clear to me that while she and I got on so well in everything we had worked on and had always thoroughly enjoyed each other's company when we had a moment or two to relax, there was nothing sexual about it from her side and she didn't think, rightly as it happened, that there was any on mine either. Somehow, she just didn't give off the right signals to attract me in that way. She was, as they say, just a good and close friend. She insisted I should know that, in the terms that most people understood these things, she was a lesbian - although not a particularly active one. "You don't look like a lesbian to me, Helen." "Ouch! As if it's something you can see! That's a sweeping statement, Luke, but as it happens, I do know what you mean. I hate the kind of ridiculous women you're obviously thinking about. Badly overweight and bulging out of over-tight jeans, a real abundance of BO, no make-up, crew-cut hair, tee shirt and no bra. Why do they have to advertise themselves like that? There really is no need, although I suppose it's part of their imagined protective amour against possible attention from a man. I certainly can't imagine any man wanting to go anywhere near a woman who looked and smelled like that, can you?" I shook my head and the accompanying grimace must have clearly told her my answer as she smiled broadly. I was a close, special and personal friend, she said, but not someone she would ever want to go to bed with. It was nothing personal, but she didn't want an obvious male about the house as such, but did badly want some long-term company and it had actually struck her while we had been talking during our weekly meets that I was the kind of person whose long term company she wanted and well; she thought I liked her in a similar way. That was true. While I thought of myself as normal in terms of my sexual orientation and while I certainly wasn't a stud chasing anything in a skirt, I didn't feel that I wanted her sexually. Somehow, she just didn't give off the right signals for anything to happen other than a close friendship and her frank admission to being a lesbian had now confirmed that. It wasn't me at fault in some way. I could wipe that particular metaphorical sweat from my brow! But still, yes, I had to admit that I did enjoy her company and I thought that we had a lot of views and attitudes in common. We could, and had, from time to time, spent hours talking on a range of common subjects. Looking back, I could now see that we did so without ever straying onto 'sexual' subjects or either of us thinking of dragging the other into our hotel bedrooms for some slap and tickle when we were away on the seemingly never-ending company training courses. Come to think of it, from time to time we had each spent a considerable amount of time on each other's hotel beds but only because, generally speaking, that was the most privately comfortable place to sit in a hotel. I don't think the generally overstuffed armchairs in the public areas appealed to either of us and the so-called armchairs in our rooms were generally the hard and uncomfortable pseudo-Swedish junk. Consequently, we had spent a lot of time squatting on each other's beds, comparing course notes or just chatting - but nothing more. She thought it was important to emphasise that while she was offering to share her life with me, she was definitely not offering me a place in her bed. She wanted to share home life with me under some rather different conditions to those I could even possibly imagine at the moment, but which she thought I could grow to like and enjoy. Nor was it something she was going to bring up gradually and stealthily, little by little, in the hope of trapping or somehow cornering me later. This was up front and in my face, rather like our ex-employer's latest management technique! But this time it was in the friendliest of ways. I was welcome to become her sister - if I would like to consider it. We went for a coffee and a bun in the caf? where we usually met and I was surprised to realise afterwards that we had done so with no more thought about our park seat discussion on my part. I suppose it showed just how close we really were. When we parted company outside, there was a simple request: to please have my other ear pierced. I think I was so shocked at the overall situation that I had it done inside the hour and without even really realising it! I spent the week wondering just what on earth she could have in mind. How could I possibly be her sister? I was, Luke Taylor, a very ordinary 26-year-old male with absolutely nothing special about me. I admit to being a bit under-sized and not that fit, I suppose, certainly with nothing in particular to physically commend me. But then, if she was a lesbian, that didn't really come into the equation, did it? We met up in the park the following week and the first thing Helen did was to look at my ear. It was properly pierced with a keeper in place, of course, just as she had asked. She smiled gently. "Thank you, Luke. What I've done over the last week is to rent a house out in the country for a few weeks so that we can go out there, be very private and experiment a little without any commitment on either side. If at any time you decide you don't want to carry on, then we'll stop. There's no way I will try to stop you if you decide to go, but I very much hope you won't want to. If you decide to stay, we can make some more decisions after that. Did you have anything set up over the next fortnight or so?" "No." I said. "Nothing particular at all. Just like you, I'm really at a complete loose end and bored out of my mind at the moment. I suppose I was going to look for another job sooner or later, but I really hadn't started looking properly yet and I hadn't even decided what sort of job I wanted because I very much doubt I'll get another one like the last." "Well then, cancel the milk and papers and let's meet up tomorrow morning and just go. Don't bring anything except your toothbrush. It'll be a fresh start and I promise I will sort everything out. Meet me at the usual place at the end of your road at 9 o'clock. We can use my car - you can leave yours in your garage." Not without a rather sleepless night and a few - many - second thoughts, I took the short walk to the end of the road and was actually there several minutes early with my toothbrush in my pocket and my heart in my mouth. Helen arrived bang on time and I got into the passenger seat and fastened the seat belt. She changed up through the gears. "I knew you wouldn't let me down. You're always so totally reliable. It's one of the things I like so much about you." She gave me a big reassuring smile, which actually did little to reassure me at this stage, and we sped out into the country. We travelled for nearly an hour before she finally turned off the main road and onto a rather muddy lane. A few twists and turns later and we stopped for a moment when she asked me to get out and open, close and padlock the gate before we drove off again down the lane, which led along a valley and through a small wood before it opened up into a small well-paved yard in front of what appeared to be a quite substantial and four-square late Victorian farmhouse. It looked as if it had at least three or four bedrooms and a fair number of rooms downstairs as well. There was an added garage at the side and what looked like it might be a quite large old-fashioned kitchen garden at the back with a high brick wall around it. We both climbed out of the car a little stiffly then Helen opened the front door and invited me to go in. "Why don't you have a look round while I unload the car," she said. She started to remove a variety of bags and parcels from the boot and back seats of the car before putting it in the garage. I duly unlocked the front door with the proffered key, went in and looked round. Downstairs, there was a long hall with a wood block floor leading from the front door to the back one, a large kitchen with a huge pantry and a fridge-freezer, a laundry room complete with washing machine and tumble- drier, a toilet, a dining room and a large lounge - all very nicely furnished. Upstairs were three en-suite bedrooms and another toilet - again all nicely furnished and, up a further set of narrow stairs, a large loft area, empty, but fully floored out, properly insulated and lit. I looked into two of the bedrooms, but decided that discretion was the better alternative in the case of the closed door with a china plaque on it clearly marked 'Helen'. The whole house was centrally heated from an gas-fired boiler on the kitchen wall although several of the fireplaces looked fully functional and I suspected had contained coal fires in the fairly recent past. Looking out through the windows, I realised that the only thing I could see was the valley and the wood we had driven through. There wasn't a single sign of anything resembling another house, a road; anything. I noticed what looked like an exhaust pipe sticking out of the roof of an out-house and Helen later told me it was an emergency generator, as occasional long winter power cuts tended to happen, this far out in the country. We had to start and run it for a few minutes each month to ensure that it would start when and if we really needed it. There was also a very large pile of smokeless fuel in a lean-to on the house side of the out-house. Winter? This was late Spring. I wondered again just what she had in mind that would take that long. She appeared beside me. "Isn't it nice? It's really secluded and self-contained. I haven't found a single house for miles in any direction and the road we came in on is the only one for miles, even before we turn onto our lane. We won't be disturbed here and if anyone should come through the gate at the top of the lane, the alarm will sound, so we will know in plenty of time. We can do what we want privately without any interference." The worry signals really lit up this time. "What's going on, Helen?" I said. "Locked gates, no neighbours, alarms and so forth. What on earth are you thinking of doing?" "Oh, Luke," she said. "I thought you knew me better than that. There really is no reason to worry. I told you I wanted you to be my sister and now you will have the chance to be so. I'm not going to try and hurt you, even if I could - and I certainly don't want to. All this security is to protect us both. This far out in the country we don't have any near neighbours to keep an eye out for intruders and so forth, so we have plenty of security lights, burglar alarms and good locks. Please don't worry, Luke. I really want you to enjoy this as much as I want to and I'd like to see a smile on your face and not a frown - please - pretty please." I made an effort and smiled. I was still worried about what I was letting myself in for. There was no obvious way I could see that Helen could overpower me so I certainly wasn't a prisoner in any sense of the word, although I supposed she could trap me somehow if she really wanted to, but I was still in the dark about what she really had in mind and that wasn't a situation I appreciated at all. We sat down to an al- fresco lunch of some quickly made sandwiches and salad before she invited me through to the sitting room with a cup of coffee. She sat facing me and the explanations began. "I told you, didn't I, that I was lonely without any brothers and sisters and you offered me the choice." "I really was only joking about the choice," I said. "How can I possibly be anything other than a brother to you?" "People can be anything they want, especially if they get lots of help when they need it," she said. "I'm rather selfish, I suppose. No! Let's be totally honest with each other from the start. I want a sister and I would really like you to try to be like a sister to me. I'll show and teach you how to do that and, in return for you doing it, I'll look after you." "I'm not at all sure I understand what you mean," I said. "But OK, I'll go along with it for the moment and see what happens." The look on my face must have concerned Helen a lot because she then did something she had never done to me before - she leaned forwards and held both my hands in hers. "Please don't worry. I'll introduce you to it gently. Really! We are friends, you know. There's no hurry. With our redundancy settlements and with both of us owning our own homes, you know we can really do what we want with our lives and at our own speed, instead of the breakneck pace we've had forced on us for years. Now! I have sorted out a room for you. Come and have a proper look at it." She then took me upstairs to one of the two large bedrooms at the back of the house and showed me round in more detail. It was en-suite and there was a nice big bed, already made up and obviously fully aired, a fitted wardrobe across one complete wall and a double chest of drawers across a second wall with a mirror and separately lit table-top fitted in the centre. There were long curtains and a roller blind at the window in addition to Austrian nets. The floor was covered from wall to wall with a pale beige thick-pile carpet. There were two matching occasional chairs, a desk and upright chair and a comfy-looking armchair as well. I had a quick look at the wardrobe and drawers, but they were all empty except for the two obligatory wire hangers that had somehow found their way into the wardrobe. Did they have a life of their own or were they supplied as part of the flat-pack? "Will that do for you?" she asked. "I'm sorry I haven't really personalised it in any way, but I thought it would be best left for now; until you decide how you want it to be. I have made it into a sort of bed-sitting room for the time being as somewhere you can be private when you want to be." A surreptitious look at the door showed no key or keyhole, so my privacy would only be relative. "It looks very nice. Comfortable and private." "I'm glad," she said. "I didn't think we would do much today, but can I ask you to make one change for me straight away?" "What's that?" "Can I call you Louise instead of Luke? It isn't much of a change, but it is more sisterly than Luke." I turned a bit pink, I think. Considering it, I couldn't see any real harm if it made her happy, so after a few moments I said, "Yes, I suppose so. Although it is going to seem a bit strange." "Thank you, Louise," she said. "I promise you will get used to it very quickly and it makes me feel a lot happier to be able to do that." I looked at her sideways but she continued, "No, really. You have no idea how good it makes me feel to be able to call you that. From now on, please try to think of yourself as being Louise Jacobs, the sister of Helen Jacobs and I'll think of you as my nice sister Louise. I really do want our lives to be as different as possible to the horrible pressurised existence we had at work" When Helen was behaving like that, it was very difficult not to just go along with her. She didn't make me feel dominated in any way, but all the same, she seemed to be able to persuade me that this was the way things should be by a combination of reason and personality. We spent the rest of the day wandering about and exploring the locale and then watching TV during the evening using the satellite dish. Having lived alone since shortly after I left school and the family home to move to a new town for that ultimately rotten job, I was used to all the usual aspects of housekeeping and so I cooked the evening meal and Helen washed up afterwards. She disappeared several times during the course of the evening for several minutes, but I assumed she had her reasons. She had. At about 11 that evening, she said I would find some nightclothes on my bed and washing kit on the dressing table so I went up to wash, brush my teeth and change for bed. The first thing I noticed was that there was already a china plaque stuck on my door which said 'Louise', exactly similar to the 'Helen' on hers. She really had moved fast. There were some pyjamas on my bed. The difference was that they were pale blue shiny satin, there was no fly opening in the trousers and the waistband was elasticated. Not only that, but I soon discovered that the buttons were on the wrong side of the jacket. However, they all appeared to fit - so I wore them, although they felt strange, but nice to the touch. The dressing gown or housecoat, as I was later told, was made of the same material but, again, it fitted, so I wore it. I was in my own room with the door closed so I thought "What the hell. Helen wants it and no-one else can see it." There were matching mules with low heels, but I didn't need them. I walked barefoot to and from the fully stocked bathroom. I noticed that all the toiletries were rather feminine, particularly in their perfumes, but again I consoled myself with the thought that there was only the two of us here. Finishing, I went back into the bedroom, took off the housecoat, got into bed and surprised myself by quickly going to sleep. I woke next morning to the sound of knocking on the bedroom door. Before I realised what I was doing, I had sat up and called "Come in" and Helen walked in wearing a pale green satin housecoat and holding a cup of coffee. "Good morning, Louise. I hope you don't mind me not dressing first," she said. "But I can't see any reason to be formal with only you and me in the house. It seems silly. Anyway, here is some coffee for you. If you like to get up when you are ready, we can see about some breakfast. No need to get dressed. After breakfast will be soon enough." "You want me to come down dressed like this?" I asked. "Why not?" she said. "You're respectable under there, aren't you? You won't be showing off anything any more than I am. After all, I know what your night clothes look like - I bought them." I couldn't really argue with that - and decided not to try. I drank my coffee and then walked carefully down the stairs in my pyjamas, housecoat and new mules and, steeling myself, walked in through the kitchen door. Helen was sitting there with a cup in her hands. She smiled. "More coffee? What would you like for breakfast?" She made absolutely no comment on my appearance whatsoever. We just started on what appeared to be everyday life. It was only when I was half way through breakfast that she said "It looks as if I chose the correct size of pyjamas and mules for you, Louise. Are they comfortable? I had to guess a bit, but I think I got them right. I must admit I snuck a quick look at the company clothing records before we left " "Oh yes," I said. "They are fine. There is nothing wrong with the size and they feel very nice." They did. The silky feel against my skin was pleasant enough and I have to admit that I actually enjoyed it. I ran the back of my hand over the housecoat, feeling the softness, and smiled. "So you like wearing them?" I blushed a little before I could answer, but we were good enough friends that I knew I could answer her truthfully. I knew perfectly well, of course, that I was being manipulated after a fashion and that she knew I was aware of it. She always had done the same at work but, at the same time, there was nothing that I positively disliked about the experience and I decided then and there to let things roll for the time being. I was sure I could always back out later if I wanted to. "I didn't expect to, but yes, I do. They feel very nice. I suppose it is just a 'macho' thing that I'm not supposed to like things like these" "I've never thought of you as being particularly macho, Louise. Not in all the time I have known you. You have always behaved in a very gentlemanly way, but the emphasis was always on the 'gentle', wasn't it. Well, they are yours now and there is no-one here to be macho with, so you can wear and enjoy them every night. I got you some others you can try as well if you like. I think you'll enjoy them just as much." We finished breakfast and washed up before she said, "If you come upstairs now, I can offer you some new clothes to wear today, if you'd like to try them. I'm not trying to force you to, but I really would like it if you would." It was one of those things about Helen. You felt as if you were letting her down very badly if you didn't do what she asked. On the other hand, I had just spent the night bedecked in a pair of pale blue satin pyjamas, and continued to wear them and a matching housecoat as I ate breakfast with her, and had quite enjoyed the experience. I already suspected that she knew far more about me than I had ever realised. We went back to my room and she brought in an armful of clothes and laid them out on the bed for me. "As you liked the pyjamas, I think you will enjoy these," she said. "There's a nice spencer; you would think of it as a vest, some elasticated panties, support tights, trousers, shoes and a blouse. See how you get on with them. Oh, and by the way, you will probably want to put the panties on first, to keep matters under control." She looked a little pink as she said this although she then smiled and walked quickly out of the door, saying to call her when I was ready. I must have sat there for about half an hour before I decided I could do as she asked. I had never worn anything that might be even vaguely described as feminine, and this was a shock to me. I had to admit that everything looked and felt nice and again, I had just spent the night and then breakfast in what were very obviously ladies pyjamas. I struggled into the panties, which were certainly on the small side and quite tight, but which held me firmly, after I had worked out how to adjust things, and then into the tights. I had never worn these before either and it took me a while to discover how to get them on comfortably, but I managed it after a while. I put on the spencer, which was like a vest but with thin shoulder straps and small cups over my chest, which fitted over my pectorals quite well. The white silk blouse fitted quite well too, although it too was a little loose about my upper chest; as I might have expected, I suppose. The Marks & Sparks lady's size 12 black trousers were OK, although the waist was a little tight - even with the elastication - and the shoes fitted comfortably as I sat there and I was able to lace them up properly. It was only when I stood up that I fully realised that they had small heels - about 2 inch - which I had to adapt to so that I didn't lean forward. I adjusted things as best I could and walked round the room several times. Nothing felt that awkward except for the heels and the tightness around my waist and crotch and I finally decided that I was brave enough to face Helen, even though I knew that she wanted me to be this way and there would be no embarrassment - at least none on her part. I called her. "Louise, that looks really nice." she said as she came through the door. "Is everything comfortable? If not, tell me and I will get a different size. I know it will seem a little bit strange to start with, but I'm sure you will get used to it in a few days and then it will seem quite normal. Oh, I really do like you like that." "Well," I said. "One or two things are a little tight in places but I suspect you meant them to be and, as you say, I expect I could get used to them. The most unusual are these shoes. I'm not at all used to these heels." "There's plenty of time, why don't you walk round the house a bit and work them in? I think it's only a case of changing the way you walk slightly. Oh! Hang on a minute." She disappeared out of the room and re-appeared a moment or two later carrying a small bottle. She upended the bottle with the stopper in place and then dabbed the wetted end behind my ears and onto my wrists before replacing the stopper and putting the bottle down on the dressing table. "There, now, that's better. Its only light, Louise, but it's a nice finishing touch. Please use it when you dress each morning. You will do, won't you? To please me?" Suddenly, I could detect a gentle but very feminine perfume and I realised that this was what she had applied to me. I supposed I looked a little shocked, but she was standing there smiling at me and I ended up rather weakly nodding before we went downstairs to start the day. One of the things I knew about from my last job was that there was a symptom called nasal fatigue, where, if you are exposed to the same smell for any period of time, you stop noticing it. Your nose can't continue signalling the same thing indefinitely. It wasn't until I came to re-apply the perfume next morning that I realised that after the first few moments of that first day, I had hardly even noticed I was wearing it. For Helen, on the other hand, I must have signalled my presence freshly every time I approached her. I spent the rest of the morning around the house, climbing up and down the stairs and using the length of the hall as I gradually got used to my shoes and the clack-clack-clack of my heels on the hardwood floor and also to the feel of the rest of my clothes which, of course, touched me in rather different places to those I was used to. The change in posture that Helen had told me about made me take a slightly shorter stride than usual. I noticed that she didn't say anything during this time, nor did she spend much time with me. She just let me realise that it was still just me - whatever I was wearing - and that she was happy with that. We had lunch in the kitchen again and then she suggested that we go for a walk round the kitchen garden. I protested slightly that that was outside and to look at what I was wearing, but she pointed out that there was a high wall round the garden and that the nearest anyone would be where they could see was about a mile away and, in any case, why would they be concentrating on me wearing what looked like a shirt and trousers? We walked. After a few minutes, I realised how silly my protest had been and I started to relax. We sat down on a garden seat, enjoyed the view and then talked. "Now you are starting to be the Louise I like," said Helen. "How does it feel? Are you all right or do you want to stop now?" I thought for minute or two and then said, "It feels OK. It's just very different and not what I expected to do, but if you like it, I can't see any particular point in stopping. I suppose most of these clothes are not that different to what I normally wear, although they feel very different." "But you don't feel you can't wear things like this? The fact that they have a ladies label in the back or are made of different materials isn't going to make them totally un-wearable for you?" "I don't suppose the label really makes any difference at all," I said. "I've worn Marks and Sparks' clothes for years and men have certainly worn materials like this before." "But, more importantly, so have women," said Helen. "And remember that I asked you to be my sister. Will you still go along with me on that?" I smiled and blushed, slightly embarrassed and flustered. I really wasn't sure what to say, but I wasn't being hurt, I wasn't being ridiculed and I was sitting in a pleasant garden with someone I liked and who liked me. I decided I would continue to go along with her plans for now and decide more clearly later. I nodded and said, "If that's what you really want, I suppose it can't hurt me, can it?" "Thank you, Louise," she said. "Can I give you a little present for being so good to me?" Without waiting, she took out my single stud earring and the keeper from my other ear and then fitted the pins of two big gold drop pendant earrings through my earlobes and fitted the retaining clips. What could I say? She had rewarded me; I didn't want to throw her reward back in her face. I left them there, even though they were really long and very heavy and took as much getting used to as all my other acquisitions as they bounced against my jaw, neck and shoulders as I moved. They were by far the most feminine things she had asked me to wear. There was no way that they could be considered anything but lady's jewellery. We continued our walk around the garden and then went in for the rest of the day. After dark, when we had settled down for the evening, she asked me if she could give me a fashion show. She wanted to know how I best liked to see her so could she change into a number of outfits and have my opinion on each. I was not to worry that I would upset her by saying I didn't like something. She really wanted to know which I liked the best - and why. So I was to be open and honest with her, please. I was treated to the sight of her parading round the sitting room in a variety of outfits which included dresses, skirts, trousers, blouses and so forth, some of the outfits being close fitting and other flowing with wide skirts. I did notice that she was very careful to do all her changing out of sight in the dining room while I remained in the lounge. It was certainly a part of her in-built modesty. I tried hard to say what I thought about each outfit as she appeared in it and what it came down to was that I liked her in almost everything except the trousers - and I said so. I thought one of us in trousers was fine. I told her that, if anything, I preferred seeing her in more flowing and frilly clothes than in those that were close fitting and she said she would bear this in mind as she bought new outfits. She laughed and then handed me a clothing home catalogue and asked me to pick out the things I personally thought I liked. Not specifically for anyone, but simply as clothes. She wanted to know what I liked and disliked generally and I wasn't to worry in the slightest about their practicality or who they were for. I was to just choose them for what I thought of their looks. Did I like any of them particularly? I wasn't to be embarrassed looking at the underwear pages either. I was just to say what I liked in particular anywhere in the catalogue and why, if I actually knew. If I didn't, it didn't matter. We must have spent about 4 hours over this and it was very late evening before she finally put it away along with a long list of those things I had chosen. Again, it was obvious that she was testing me gently for my reactions to a feminine way of life but I still couldn't lose the feeling that it wasn't a nice thing to upset her and then again, why should I when she wasn't particularly upsetting me? "I like being able to spend the evening with you like this, Louise," she said. "Never having had a sister before, I can only imagine what it would be like, but this fits the bill nicely. Are you happy, or is it all too much of a strain?" "It's not really a strain at all," I said. "But it is very different, and if anyone had suggested a few weeks ago that I would be sharing a sofa with you, dressed like this and having worked our way through a ladies clothing catalogue, I certainly wouldn't have believed them." "Well, from the way you always treated me at work," she said. "I must admit that I have had my private thoughts about you for a long time now. It wasn't that I wanted you in a sexual way, because you already know that I don't want the attentions of a man. I have to admit that I couldn't believe my luck when you suggested that you could be my brother or sister. It was then I realised what I needed and what you could give me. I know I took a big chance in actually saying 'sister' to you, but that was exactly what was right. Be my sister, Louise, and I'll do everything to ensure that you enjoy being so." "So do I take it that I shouldn't expect things to remain as they are right now?" "Well, no," She said. "To be honest, I really don't think so, but I certainly don't want to rush you into anything more than you feel you can take. There is all the time in the world for you to adjust as you get to feel comfortable with things. I do have things in mind for you which I'm sure you will end up enjoying as much as I will, but I don't want to worry you with them now when you are only just starting out as my sister." "But do you honestly think I will enjoy it?" I asked. "Oh, yes." she said. "I'm certain of that. And not only that, but you know perfectly well that I would never try and hurt or humiliate you, but you will have lots of different things to get used to and I certainly don't think it would be right to try and introduce you to them all at once. It would probably overwhelm you. It's like anything else. Something new needs to be taken on board and become natural before you go on to the next thing." "It's easy to see why you were the training supervisor." I said, laughing. "Yes, but now we are both away from the company, there's no need to go for those awful crash training courses where you felt you had been put through the mincing machine for two or three solid days. Not only that, but there's no exam at the end, either! We have all the time we want and I really want you to enjoy it all as much as I do. Why rush it and risk making a real mess of it?" After we had some coffee, we went up to bed. As we parted at the top of the stairs, Helen turned to me and said, "You said you liked those pyjamas I gave you last night. Would you like to try some others tonight?" "Alright." She disappeared into the spare bedroom for a moment or two and then re- appeared, handing me a pair of pyjamas and a gown of the same colour as the previous pair but in a much softer, silkier material, which seemed to flow over my hands. When I dressed in them a few minutes later, I realised just how pleasant they felt. I fell asleep quickly and had some pleasant dreams. The next morning I awoke again to the knocking at my door and there was Helen in her housecoat again with a morning cuppa for me. "Good morning, Louise. Did you sleep well?" she asked. "Yes," I said. "Very well, thanks, Helen. This bed is very comfy." "And did you like these pyjamas?" "They are very nice. So silky and soft. They are nice to curl up in and I went to sleep very quickly." "Now you see what I mean about doing things slowly," she replied. "If I had handed you those on the first night you would probably have rejected them as being too feminine but, having had the other pair first, you were less worried about these and now you have discovered just how much you like the more refined material." "Touch?." I said. "Come down to breakfast when you are ready. The same rules as yesterday." A few minutes later I walked into the kitchen in my new nightwear and found Helen with a sad look on her face, which puzzled me. "Don't you like your present?" she asked. It took me a moment to realise that she meant the earrings she had given me the previous day. I hadn't put them on when I got up. I had sort of assumed that I would put them on when I got dressed. "I'm sorry," I said. "It's the new situation. I didn't realise you would want me to wear them until I was dressed." I went upstairs and put them on before returning to the kitchen. "Thank you," she said, smiling. "I would really like you to wear them whenever you are out of bed or the bathroom. That looks a lot better." I sat down to breakfast and as I did so, the front of my housecoat slid off my leg to reveal the leg of my pyjamas underneath. I pulled it back up, only for it to slide off again. I was reduced to holding it in place with one hand while I ate breakfast slowly using the other. The tapping of the pendant earrings on my jaw was very noticeable "That's another lesson learned" she grinned. "With silk you have to watch out what is happening to the state of your dress. But don't worry about it too much. I know you have something on underneath. It's nice to see you really are as modest as I thought you were." I suppose it was modesty, although I hadn't thought of it in those terms. I was still in a very strange environment and didn't want to lower what I thought were my standards in front of her. If I had been wearing my usual pyjamas at home, I would probably have exposed myself slightly through the front split. As I had the previous day, I changed into my new outfit after breakfast. I used the perfume as I had been asked, although the initial impact still worried me somewhat. This carried on for the rest of the first week while we lived in this absolute seclusion. I became used to my heels after a couple of days or so and no longer really noticed them. The rest of my clothes gradually became second nature to me as well. To be fair, after few days, I forgot about the perfume as well. Helen supplied me with clean clothes every couple of days, but they were more or less identical sets, although with some different colours and materials. At the beginning of the second week, she asked me if I was prepared to try out a few more changes. After a week of the previous ones, I had no real problems about trying a few more. We were living happily together and apart from my name change, which I was finally getting a little more used to, nothing bad had happened to me. I agreed to try out whatever she had in mind. The first change was that night when I went to bed. I discovered that a long pale blue nightdress, which came down to my ankles, had replaced my pyjamas. It was the same silky material as my last pair of pyjamas and it felt wonderful as it swirled around my legs. The gown, which matched it but with some lace on the sleeves and which she later told me was called a neglig?e, was the same length. I suppose I had no real problem with this apart from waking once or twice with my legs rather caught up in the skirts, which had somehow wrapped themselves round me. When I woke the next morning to the now familiar knocking on my door, I still felt refreshed and happy. Helen smiled as she came in and asked me if I had enjoyed wearing such a wonderful nightie and I answered that I had. "But I got my legs rather entwined during the night without consciously doing anything" "Oh, that's quite normal, you know. It's always happening to me and I think every other girl as well. That material has such a wonderful drape to it, doesn't it? You do know what I mean by that don't you?" The comment about 'every other girl' had me going for a moment or two until I rationalised it out that I had actually and purposefully put the thing on in the first place. "Not really. But I suppose you mean the way it hangs from everywhere it touches, if your 'drape' means the same thing as drapes as curtains means?" "Exactly that. And that cool, smooth, silkiness is wonderful to feel around you, don't you think?" I realised I was blushing again, but I had to agree, however, that it actually was rather nice. I had never worn a material like that before. She told me the nightdress was mine from then onwards. At breakfast I sat with one hand holding my negligee in place and the pendants tapping against my jaw as before. Afterwards, she asked me which piece of daytime clothing I would like to change next and what I would like to change it for. This stumped me and she then said she could suggest things and see what I would like from them. I agreed to this, as I hadn't the faintest idea what to suggest myself. Would I like to change my shoes? I thought about it and then agreed, on the basis that I had managed to adapt to the previous ones easily. My new shoes were court shoes with 3-inch heels and I found I had to change my style of walking considerably. I had to stick my bottom out in order to balance properly and also I had to shorten my stride a little more. It took me several days to get used to this with constant walking round the house and garden. Helen, for whatever reasons, likes to see a well-rounded bum and I think this is why she chose the shoes next. We spent one evening with her measuring me up in great and somewhat intimate detail although she was very careful to get me to do the most sensitive measurements. She is a very well rounded and good-looking girl, but she managed to leave me un-aroused when she finished with me. I didn't think there was more than a single aspect of my physiology that she didn't know about in some detail. Next she changed my negligee for a lace one, which only just closed at the front, with no overlap and had long wide sleeves and also, mules with 3-inch heels. I felt very strange in this outfit, but she said how pleased she was with me and how much she appreciated what I was doing. Keeping myself covered at breakfast was becoming quite difficult and I could see from her face that Helen was enjoying watching me work at it. "Oh, Louise. How good you are to me," she said. "You are becoming more and more like a sister to me and I love it so much. I'm sorry if you are finding it difficult to control some of your new clothes, but you are actually getting very good at it, very quickly, you know. You are showing a very feminine modesty and it seems to be becoming more and more natural for you to do it without even thinking about it." I must admit I had rather mixed feelings about that. Yes, I was finding my clothes something of a handful to control, particularly my nightclothes, but to be told I was displaying a feminine modesty was rather unsettling. I know I don't have much of a male or macho self- image, but this was taking matters a long way beyond that. To be told that I was taking to it rather naturally was an insult to that little bit of male self-image I did have and again, it was only my basic liking for Helen which stopped me from re-thinking the whole thing. Helen obviously noticed an immediate change in my face. She reached over and held my hand in hers. "Louise. You're doing so well. You aren't disappointed with the way things are going are you? I haven't hurt you or tried to humiliate you in any way, have I?" "Of course not. You know you haven't. I'm not disappointed as such. There's nothing to be disappointed about. It's just that, well, for a man to be told that he is naturally showing a very feminine modesty doesn't do his ego much good, you know." "I'm sorry. You know it wasn't meant that way at all. I'm not trying to be cruel in any way, but I didn't think that you were that interested in a macho image. You've never displayed one that I've seen. As I said, you were always a gentleman, but the emphasis was always on the gentle. I do find it very difficult to think of you as a hunk, you know." I must admit that did make me smile. Me, a hunk? Not a chance in a million years. I suppose it began to dawn on me at that point that what Helen was doing to me wasn't really that much of a change from my own original personality in any case. I had spent 28 years in trousers, but that was about all. I had never taken part in any competitive team sports - with my physique I knew I would get quite badly hurt - and I had only really done a little bit of running, not so much for competition but to keep myself just that little bit fitter. I was much more interested in the academic side of life. Helen could see I was thinking and just sat there silently while I worked things out. It took me few minutes to sort things out in my own mind. Looking back, I suppose that was actually lightning speed, but I had no other distractions. I could stay and accept the changes or go, and be totally unsure what life had in store for me in the future. I might be the brainy sort, but I surely wasn't going to light any fires anywhere and I would probably sink even deeper into obscurity than I had been before. At least with Helen at the helm I would have a direction - even if it wasn't one I had ever had the wildest dreams about. "I'm not a hunk, am I? I mean, not even when I'm dressed as a man. I'm just a weed with some brain. I think I've made up my mind, Helen. I will be your sister Louise, but you will have to do an awful lot of teaching if I'm going to make a good job of it." She virtually threw herself at me to hug me and kiss me on the cheek. "Oh Louise. You are gorgeous. Did you know that?" Life returned to the new norm. During this time, she disappeared into the local town on three different days, "on errands" as she said, sometimes for ordinary domestic shopping but coming back on the second and third occasions with a multitude of packages and parcels as well. I had my suspicions, but it wasn't until later that I discovered what she had been doing for certain. By the end of the second week, when we were about due to go home, she suggested that we had a t?te-?-t?te in the sitting room about the future. She told me that the house was for sale, if we wanted it, rather than just renting it, as we did at the moment. If we bought it and sold both our homes, we could put all the extra money in a series of nice safe high earning accounts along with all our redundancy payments and just continue as we were. What did I think? Was I enjoying our life together? I actually was quite happy and nothing that Helen had done had hurt me in any way, although, as I was discovering, it was obviously a total change from my previous life. We talked through all the details for a while and came to the conclusion that we would buy the house and continue to live there. We could always sell it again later if we wanted. I must admit that it didn't even occur to me to think about what would happen if I wanted to sell and she didn't. Helen said she would go and deal with all the details and bring back anything which needed my signature. She would bring all the paperwork back for me to agree first so there was no reason to worry. In good faith, she would sell her house first just so that I could see how much she wanted me to stay with her. In the meantime, while she was away, she was going to leave me with a variety of things to look at and try out if I wanted to. These, as I had suspected, were the contents of all those packages she had brought home on her previous errands into town. I was free to try whatever I wanted and she would be away for several days, so there was no hurry. She stressed that everything there was for me to try out as often as I wanted and that there were no restrictions on what I used or what combinations of clothes I tried out. She had worked on the basis of what I had told her I liked and disliked when we had spent the evening going through the ladies-wear catalogue, so there was nothing there she didn't think I would like. If I looked in the wardrobes and drawers in the third bedroom, I would find it all in there, waiting for me. To say the room was crowded was putting it mildly. Now I really knew what her errands had been all about. I had the choice of almost any lady's clothing and shoes that I could imagine, and several items that had me guessing as to what they could possibly be for. She obviously expected me to try some of these out, and I had very little clue as to what to try first. I was not, at this stage, in any really serious way thinking of converting to wearing ladies clothes full time, you understand. I was still at the stage of simply granting Helen's wishes and going along with what she wanted - for no other reason than that I liked her and I couldn't see any reason not to allow her her fantasies. It hadn't done me any harm as far as I could see, although I have to admit that one or two of the things she got me to wear did pinch a bit in unusual places! Looking back, I can understand now that many - probably most - men would have baulked at even the thought of doing as she asked and would have disappeared over the horizon very quickly. But then, I don?t suppose she would have asked them in the first instance. I didn?t have any really strong views on the subject and, apart from the fact that I could see that she was enjoying what she was asking me to do in a very nice way ? she certainly wasn?t setting out to humiliate or hurt me ? it didn?t do anything to me which I could really object to. So, I bit on the bullet and experimented. I decided that as there was no one to see me or to criticise, I would do whatever I wished. There was a little note from Helen suggesting that I should always start with a pair of my special elasticated panties to ?keep things under control?, as she put it so demurely. That was the one part of me she never came near. I had heard about corsets, of course. Who hasn?t? But I had never really seen one close up. There were several there, one stiff with bones, back lacing and suspenders that I didn?t think I could put on single-handed and several others of varying levels of control with hooks and zips that looked, well, slightly more amenable. I tried all these and settled on one which gripped me ? but not too hard. It had suspenders, so I tried out some stockings and ended up wearing some heavy, black silk ones, which felt really good. Not only that, but they also hid the little bit of hair I had on my legs and which I didn?t think should be seen through tights or stockings. I discovered that some of the things I hadn?t really understood were breast forms that fitted into the cups of either a bra or a corset. I used them and I have to admit that they made my blouses look a lot better. They did get in the way a bit, but I could see that this must be quite normal ? well, for a woman, anyway - and so I put up with it, although it was quite inconvenient for several weeks until I started to get more used to them. All of a sudden I had these two protrusions, for want of a better expression, on my chest which prevented me from moving my arms about in the way I was used to. There was suddenly a ?no-go? zone which I had to get accustomed to. The range of top clothes there was breath-taking. There were skirts; long skirts, medium length skirts, short skirts, even a very short one, tight skirts, straight skirts and one or two flared ones. There were dresses. Some were obviously for everyday wear and others that were equally obviously for evening wear with longer skirts, some fitting and some flowing. Looking round I found some fantastic multi-layered petticoats in all sorts of frilly and silky materials, which were obviously to go with them. There were blouses and jumpers of all sorts of styles and materials. Boots and booties, shoes and sandals with low heels, high heels (including one pair of incredible heels) and the range of undies was huge with panties, knickers, half-slips, petticoats, bras of all kinds, shapes and sizes, girdles & suspender belts as well as the corsets - and all sorts of accessories; jewellery, gloves, scarves and so on. There seemed to be no end to the selection. Most of the underwear was what I thought of as being rather exotic with masses of satin and lace with ribbons and bows everywhere. However, when I thought as dispassionately as I could about it, I came to the conclusion that there wasn?t actually anything unusual about the underwear. I didn?t have the faintest idea of what Helen wore underneath her usually very smart but rather plain top clothes. It wasn?t as if I actually knew what the majority of women wore underneath. Well, not many anyway. When I had looked through the catalogue with her, these was exactly the kind of things I had seen in there and it was from a well- known and highly reputable company, so they were obviously what women really did like to wear under their dresses and skirts and it apparently wasn?t just a male fantasy that they usually did so. So, I decided, if I was to wear lady?s clothes in future, it had better be over the correct kind of underwear and I should start getting used to the idea immediately. I have to say that the effects were quite startling. Quite apart from the feel of the material next to my skin ? which was like nothing I had ever worn before, being really soft and silky ? it was the differences which caught me out most. The constant presence of a band around my chest from the bra I was wearing. I didn?t notice it much for the first hour or so, but after that it became a constant reminder to me that I was restricted in that respect all day long. I wondered if loosening it would help, but all that happened was that it rode up more easily and I had to re-adjust it more often. Straps, sometimes several at a time over my shoulders which were nothing like those of a man?s vest, for example. They were much narrower and tended to cut into my shoulders a little until I discovered exactly the right place to put them. The general tightness of the waistbands, even the elasticated ones. I failed to understand in the early stages just how much I would have to loose from around my waist. It wasn?t until I had the constant grip of a corset around me that I really appreciated what was needed. The tightness of the elasticated panties. It didn?t matter over most of my body, but the purpose was obviously to control the family jewels and to minimise their? obviousness. The constant pressure over that area felt curious, to say the least, although like anything else, I finally got used to it. The feel of suspenders against my legs and the tiny movements of the stockings attached to them as they were pulled back and forth by the restraint of those suspenders. There was a constant prickle in the early days as the hairs on my legs became tangled up in the suspenders and then pulled, this way and that, until they ? the hairs - finally gave way under the strain. High heels making me walk in a different way with a shorter stride. I found that the more I wore them and the longer I kept them on each day, the less I liked being without them as the tendons at the back of my ankles gradually shortened in response to my new posture. I found I needed those high-heeled mules. The restrictions of most blouses, which were not cut in such a way as to allow the amount of freedom I was used to. That ripping sound as I over- strained a seam was something I quickly learned to hate. As I gradually worked out how to live within the restrictions they imposed on me, it became a less frequent horror. And so it went on. The list of differences was endless and applied to virtually everything I tried. I tried out a number of different things each day. I tried mixing and matching to see what I liked and what I didn?t. I assumed that Helen would approve of any choice I made, seeing as she had left everything for me to try in the first instance. I had never worn a skirt before in my life, of course. Not even a kilt. The first time I put one on it seemed very strange indeed. I suspect this was partly because, at my first attempt, I didn?t wear anything else with it. Apart from those control panties, I was simply bare from the waist downwards and I put on this gently flared skirt which hung down just below my knees and left me with a rather cool feeling everywhere else. There were gentle air currents from the natural swirl of the skirt as I moved and they felt like a veritable gale to me. I couldn?t understand at all why a woman would want to wear one if it produced that sort of effect and particularly on a cold winter?s evening with a freezing gale making its way up there. It was only when I started to wear all the things I suspected women wore underneath that I began to realise how much nicer it felt. I was already used to the control panties by then, of course, and they were the first things I put on. They made some difference, apart from the obvious one of control. I found that stockings and a suspender belt were relatively easy to put on, but were really unusual in how they felt when I walked about in them whereas tights were more of a trial to get comfortable in the first instance but felt more ?normal? when finally on correctly. I soon discovered that slips or petticoats were something nice to feel under a skirt, particularly if the skirt was un-lined and I wore stockings. The swirl of silk or nylon around my legs was very sensuous and made me feel very unsure of my sexuality at times. I wasn?t at all sure I was meant to feel like that. I started off wearing flared skirts and it was a couple of days before I dared to put on a straight one. I thought they had the effect of hobbling the wearer and making them walk in a very different way but I was starting from scratch and I wasn?t used to any form of restriction around my legs. I soon found that with the effect of the high heels I was already wearing, the hem of a knee-length straight skirt had very little additional hobbling effect on my stride in any case. It was only in the slightly more unusual situations, like climbing stairs, that this came into play. However, when I tried on my first tapered skirt, I really noticed the difference. All of a sudden, I couldn?t do those things I was used to doing naturally. My stride was really restricted and I had to alter my whole pattern of walking to allow for it; much more than was demanded by my high heels. Small things on the floor which I previously would have stepped over, I now had to walk round. Using the stairs was something to be done with extreme care and I had to move my feet more rapidly to maintain my balance when I was walking on a flat surface. It was obvious to me that combined with high heels ? which seemed to me the way I had seen most women wear a tapered skirt ? I was going to be quite restricted in my movement. It was even more pronounced when I wore a long hobble skirt, of course. I learned later that in the late 1950s, there had been a fashion for wearing a very long hobble skirt with flat shoes which resulted in women having to walk - well mince actually - extremely quickly in order to get about. It didn?t last very long and was replaced by the opposite extreme of very full skirts over masses of can-can petticoats where walking wasn?t a problem but hiding one?s frillies from a watcher?s gaze certainly was! There were two schools of thought. Those who decided that such a mass of pretty lace, net and ribbons was meant to be seen and just let it happen and those who tried very hard to hide this array at all times. For the second group it became a battle against men in particular who would do almost anything to get a good view while a girl did everything she could to hide it. One thing that did upset me was my still male head on top of the differently clad body below it. Trying to sort out nice looking outfits under my face and head was off-putting in the extreme. I solved it by resetting the free-standing full length mirror so that I couldn?t see my head as I examined what I was wearing. I just didn?t have the knowledge or skill to change my face or arrange my hairstyle or wear a wig properly to match the rest of the outfit. Each evening Helen would ring me, but she never asked me what I had tried out, only if I was trying things and was there enough? She encouraged me to keep trying things and to keep lists of what I had tried together and what I liked in particular or items I didn?t like and wouldn?t want to use again. I was to leave used clothes in the hampers on the landing and she would deal with everything when she returned. The only thing she was uncertain of was when that would be. After a few days I settled on about a dozen different outfits that I liked in particular and which I didn?t think were too outlandish - to my eyes at least. Outlandish? Not to a woman, of course, but to me? Well, choose me another word! Generally, they consisted of blouses or jumpers and skirts. I liked some of the satin blouses she had left and there was also a heavy white cotto