True Confessions....

From men who have been turned into obedient she-male servants.

From a man who was caught!

I have been reading in your newsletters about TVs who have been 'caught' dressing. I was caught by my wife two years ago. I had purchased a gorgeous satin maids outfit from a firm in London. It was made to measure and was very expensive. The underskirt was double layered black satin trimmed with pink lace. The frock was white with pink heart shaped buttons to the waist. The apron, heart shaped, was also white and trimmed with pink lace all around. I wore it for the first time one afternoon when my wife was out shopping. I wore a custom made white padded bra, a white girdle, black seamed stockings, white nylon knickers under the uniform.

It was a wonderful afternoon, I took my time getting into everything letting the excitement build. I particularly remember the thrill of buttoning up the frock. And of course putting my head through the shoulders straps of the apron and tying it behind me, this was heavenly! I placed the maids cap on my head. This was something I had designed myself. Made of white satin it was threaded all around with pink ribbon, the ends of the trailed down my back. It looked silly and cute and I loved it. I clearly remember stepping into the bright pink shoes with the three inch heel and examining myself in the mirror. Just as I sat at my wife's dressing table to do my face she walked into the bedroom. I don't know who was the more shocked.

I was stunned. I know exactly how stupid I looked. If went pale my wife went ashen. For a while we didn't move or speak. And when she did speak it was full of outrage at the obvious expense of the outfit. NOT THE FACT THAT I WAS WEARING A MAID'S UNIFORM - BUT THE EXPENSE!!

About women who enjoy inflicting pain!

Over the past few years I have met a number of females through Contact magazines and Dating 'phone lines. Being slim and attractive I've experienced considerable success with mature females who don't mind me wearing frocks as long as I'm good in bed. (Which I am!). I've also had some bad experiences; so I'm wary, and when I received a call from a woman who said she wanted to meet me, 'Just for a dressing-up session' I wasn't totally convinced. I met her the following afternoon. Her house was small bungalow and she was a very lovely lady in her forties. Short blonde hair and a heart-shaped face, a slim but heavy-breasted figure and long legs. She introduced herself as Angela.

I sat opposite her in the small lounge. She was wearing a stunningly pretty frock. A sleeveless sheath made of nylon taffeta. It clung to her curvaceous body in a way that thrilled me. Pink polka-dots on white, with a shiny patent leather belt in that same shade of candy-pink. She crossed her legs and I heard that sibilant hiss of sensuous fabric. Her pink high heeled shoes matched her belt and my eyes were drawn to the spiked six inch heel.

We discussed cross-dressing and she told me all she wanted was the occasional afternoon with me wearing skirts and petticoats. I didn't believe her for a minute. Yes, there are females who like seeing men in frocks, but usually there are hidden desires. I gently questioned her and suddenly it struck me. She casually mentioned words like 'discipline' and 'punishment' and 'sanctions' and now she was talking about when she'd been a school-teacher. And how she'd used the strap! She was a pain-freak. And I wasn't interested. I'd come up against this kind of thing before; you'd be amazed at how many women like dishing-out a bit of pain.

From a man who became a maid, to his own servant!

I have just returned from a trip to Africa. I worked there in fact for several months. As is usual in many parts of the African continent one has one's own servant. I was fascinated with my maid. When I first arrived she asked if she could have a uniform. Many servants work without a uniform and my purchase of one for her gave her a certain 'class' in the area. The first uniform was one she chose herself, a blue nylon frock with white collar and cuffs and a blue and white apron. She looked so...enchanting...in this I offered to but her more. But I insisted on going to the shop with her. Not wanting anyone I knew to see me I suggested she take me to an area where only locals shop. I spent a very pleasant afternoon buying four different uniforms (including the traditional black and white number). At some stage she must have become aware of my unusual interest in female clothing. And she clearly intended to take advantage. She implied that her underwear was too old for such splendid new clothes. My renewed interest must have been transparent...and she now understood that my interest was sexual in some way. I felt her brushing close to me, her hand would touch mine at every opportunity. As it happened I had no real desire for her. But I was aroused due to the close proximity of so much female apparel. Like most T.V.s I adore being in ladies clothing stores. When I was shown brassieres, dozens of them...I was trapped. I bought four bras. Then...I suggested we look at girdles. She gave me a very knowing look and she whispered to me, "Only if you help me put them on."

I was very excited. Too excited. I whispered back. "Yes, I'll pretend I'm your maid...I'll dress you."

Accidental route to being 'female'.

I 'became' a 'feminised' if that is the right word, entirely by accident. I was a grocer's lad in the north of England in the early fifties, barely a teenager. Like most boys I thought constantly of sex and many of my female customers became heroines in my fantasy world. It didn't seem to matter what age they were, I dreamed of them all big and large young and old. One in particular had large breasts that simply fascinated me. She was middle-aged and not in anyway good looking but I could not keep my eyes from her breasts. It is now obvious to me that the way I gaped at her gave her the impression I fancied her, which was only partially true. I also realise now that she intended seducing me at the earliest opportunity. Each Friday evening I called at her home with a large box of groceries. At first I had been met at the door, soon she was leaving the door open and calling me in. On two occasions I entered to find her only partly dressed.

I was of course extremely interested in what females wore beneath their outer clothing; consequently when I saw her in underskirt and bra I took more than a good look. This must have encouraged her because on my next visit she wore only a flimsy nightie and nightgown. Today I would have been suspicious of anyone who was fully made-up and wearing high-heels and yet pretending to have been caught 'napping'. But I was just an impressionable boy. She called me into the bedroom, 'for my tip', I stood and had a good look as she played around in her purse. Perhaps she expected me to make a pass. But there was never a chance of that. I would not have known what to do or say. So, she made a pass at me! And I was scared enough to try and run. She grabbed me and kissed me squashing me against the kitchen door. I had never kissed a woman seriously before. When her tongue entered my mouth I gagged! And I didn't have a clue as to what I was supposed to do to her. She rubbed her groin against me for several minutes and I then struggled from her and beat a hasty retreat.

My husband and my mother!

I came home from work to find my husband wearing a pink silk bonnet and a frilly apron!

We were staying with my mother...and she paraded my feminised husband before me as though she were proud of him in some way. John had gone a bright pink...and I could see he was on the verge of tears. He was holding the frilled edge of the pink and white nylon apron..and I saw that his nails had been painted red! The bonnet was the kind of extravagent creation a baby would wear at a formal party; lots of floppy frills and covered in fine white lace!