All Girls Together

1. Introduction - Dan

Milly and I have been married for three years, we met when I was at University, she's a few years older than me. I won't say that it was love at first sight, well not on my part anyway. I don't know about Milly. All I can say was our paths had a habit of crossing.

I was studying computing and was in my first year while Milly was on the University staff: an assistant in the stress councillors' office. I'd had a hard time getting adjusted and went for help, or just to find someone to talk too. It was Milly who fixed me up with an appointment and made me a cup of tea while I waited. I ended up talking to her and found that she was a good listener: sympathetic and thoughtful: I never did see the other councillors.

She moved on into Business administration in the private sector but was working in the same city, so we continued to see each other. Birmingham is quite a big city with a population of over a million: but it didn't matter, I realised that I had found my true love. We married as soon as I graduated and I managed to get a job in the IT department of the firm that Milly worked for. We soon had a little daughter and when she returned to work, my wife's career really took off with a series of promotions... Great! We could afford a nice house outside the city and it seemed that we were set up for life. What do I mean, "seemed"? We were set up for life, or should have been!

2. Introduction - Milly

Dan was everything that I had been looking for in a man: he was younger than me and very impressionable.. I wanted a female-led-marriage, what woman doesn't? And it did not take me long to figure out that Danny could also be happy if I was firmly in the driving seat,

Oh, nothing cruel, nothing abusive: I wasn't going to humiliate him in anyway: besides, that sort of thing does not appeal to me. I don't get off by humiliating men, well not much anyway and certainly not nice ones. Besides, I wanted to build Danny up into someone that I could live with, so why would I want to destroy him? There's a whole heap of difference between training and humiliating.

I spotted Dan in the throng of students at the University where I worked: I was on the counselling staff at the 'University of Central England' when I found him, a little lost soul. I'd been looking for a "Danny" for a couple of years and after several 'almosts', I found him in his first week. It was time to begin work: I called in a few favours, I had some close friends in the admin section, including a bi-curious lady in the accommodation section. At my request she made a hash of the poor boy's room allotment. Then in rapid succession he had trouble getting his student loan approved, found that he was on the wrong course and finally was recorded as having grades below those required for his course... So far, so good.

He was in a state of shock by the time that he found his way to the councillors' offices and I was able to take him under my wing and straighten out all of his problems... After that our paths crossed often! I made sure that they did. Dan never suspected that I was pulling his strings and as a result, he fell in love with me... So far so good.

He graduated at the age of twenty one... I was already twenty nine, but I made sure that he was alright with that: boys are flattered to receive attention from an older, sophisticated woman and Danny was still very much a boy. I just had to prevent him from becoming a man.

We were married within a couple of weeks of him graduating and by now I had left the University staff and secured an administrative position at one of the new biotech companies that were springing up around city. I managed to secure a position for Dan in the company's IT department where I could keep my eye on him and make sure that nothing and no one would upset him.

3. Introduction - Wendy

I first met Milly in the Student's Union bar at University: she was deep in conversation with a weedy little geek of a guy. Frankly I was puzzled, I just couldn't see what she saw in him. Here she was: five-nine or ten and blonde. Okay she was no beauty, but there was an honest dependability about her.

I had been sitting at the next table, alone as usual and had been watching her for about five minutes when she suddenly looked up and met my gaze. Her pale grey eyes seemed to look straight through me and into my soul. I heard her excuse herself, then she stood up and walked over.

She leaned over my table and said very quietly. "You have problems." It wasn't a question.

I was embarrassed that she had caught me staring at her so could only nod vigorously.

She gave me one of her thoughtful, thin-lipped smiles as she regarded me for several seconds. "I'll see you at 10-20 tomorrow morning. You know where the councillor's office is?"

I nodded again and felt myself going red.

"Be there!" She said forcibly then moved back to her own table.

"Who was that, darling?" The little geek asked.

She laughed. "Nobody, Dan, don't worry about him: he just needs my help, that's all."

I felt myself going red again and scooted away from her and out of the building, leaving my lemonade on the table... Nobody! Yeh, well that just about summed me up. I went back to my room in the Hall of Residence and opened my desk draw... There were two cards of sleeping pills there, I looked at them. Nobody!

...but she had found time to see me! I closed the draw with a loud slam. Not today: tomorrow, perhaps, but not today.

I locked my door from the inside and turned out the main room light. I pulled the case out from under my bed and opened it. I shrugged off my boy-clothes and stared at the contents of the case: the pale blue cotton skirt and the white satin blouse... I was already wearing the white cotton panties and the bra. I slipped some padding into the latter, pulled on the blouse and the skirt and sat there in the dark for a couple of hours doing nothing except pretending that I was beautiful. Oh God, why me?

I knew that this was one of the many things that I would have to ask the councillor. She would be able to laugh at me behind my back afterwards, just like everyone else does.

4. Going Steady - Dan

Being engaged to Milly is like a roller-coaster ride: there's ups and there's downs, there's sudden swerves but the speed never slackens and it's exhilarating. I think that my head has been spinning since we met and it seems that the only way that I can walk straight is to lean on her shoulder.

Yes life has become on long series of crazy metaphors! Or at least it seems that it has when I try to write it down. Now I have always been a pretty straight guy and I mean that in more than a sexual sense. I've never been adventurous and I don't like sudden changes... Or at least I didn't until Milly took control of my life. I've been called a Geek, but then so have most science, maths or computer students; it never bothered me: okay I am not big - anywhere! I am five foot four in my stocking feet and weigh less than eleven stone (that's about 150 lb for any Americans who might read this). I'm slim to the point of being thin, but again, that does not bother me as I never much thought about my body image. Men don't tend to, or at least not as much as women do.

I might be a Geek, but at this time I was a pretty good soccer player and being small and light with a good turn of speed I was a born winger. I got kudos by being a regular for the University's first team. Milly encouraged this: she said that she liked her men to be fit.

I was a good player, but could never hope to become a professional, which I had dreamed of ever since I was a kid. I confided in Milly, hell, I told her everything (almost!) she smiled and told me that there was more to life than kicking a ball around, and if I liked, she would help me find it... Help me find the real "me" that was in there, somewhere!

It was at the beginning of the second year: Milly and I had been engaged for about six months when the changes started: little things, nothing rushed, nothing pressured or forced: just little changes that all made sense at the time and seemed perfectly normal. The first one was hair: I'd always kept mine short.

One day, we were out having a drink at one of the canal-side pubs that you can still find in Birmingham. It was a sunny early October Saturday and we were just sitting at an outside table enjoying the peace and quiet when I caught he frowning at me and asked what was wrong. She did not give me a straight answer, she never did; it seemed to be up to me to fathom out what she really was getting at and I almost always failed.

"I've been going through our finances." She told me in a concerned voice. Well they were really her finances as I was living on a student loan.

"Oh?" I asked somewhat puzzled over the sudden turn in the conversation. We had been discussing the sort of place that we wanted to buy when we got married, so I guess that it wasn't really a drastic change in the conversation.

She leaned over the table and gave me a quick peck on the cheek and ran her hand over my crew-cut. "How much did you spend on that?" There was a slight hint of disgust in her voice.

Taken by surprise, I stuttered out. "£9-50, special rate for students! I thought that you liked it?"

She looked me straight in the eye and muttered. "I do, Danny: it makes you look manly."

I felt on top of the world: she didn't compliment me very often - women don't, but she expected me to comment on her appearance all of the time.

She looked thoughtful. "£9-50 twelve times a year... Why, that's nearly £120 wasted! Here's me scrimping and saving out of my tiny salary to put a roof over our heads and to make sure that our children won't live on the street and here's you blowing £120 on hair cuts!"

I was taken aback and took a pull of my lager to hide my surprise. "But, Milly, you told me that you love the way I look!"

She smiled. "I do, but we must both make sacrifices and besides, I think that you will really look cool if you let your hair grow just a bit longer! Its a beautiful colour: hundreds of girls would just die to have hair like yours!" She reached over and stroked my head again. "We'll let it grow a little bit, just to see how it suits you!"

And that was the start of it. They say that true love never runs smooth. Well ours did, Milly made sure of that. By Easter, my hair was down to my ears and Milly spent a lot of time running her fingers through it and telling me that she was glad that I had derided to grow it long Naturally, the money saved on hair cuts went into our savings account.

I asked her about my student loan but she told me not to worry about it as she would deal with that side of things. I have to admit that my girl was brilliant with money and our savings account was growing as she found new ways to save.

The next development came at Christmas when Milly homed in on the cost of my room and meals at the University Hall of Residence. "Do you know how much this is costing us?" She demanded.

I nodded glumly. "But what's the alternative?" I asked hopefully.

"You can move in with me: my flat is big enough for two with a few adjustments."

- YES!! -

But of cause I did not say it out loud, though I did punch the air behind her back. Molly's flat was five minutes away from the campus and even closer to the IT department than the Hall of Residence was! This really was a win - win situation.

Suddenly I thought of a problem... My rent was paid until the end of the summer term.

She just smiled sweetly. "I'm on the University staff, silly, just leave it to me, I'll see what I can do."

A refund cheque arrived in mid-January but by then I already had my feet under the table in Milly's small flat... Or rather, I would have done if there was room for a table!

There was one bedroom and naturally, as her fiancé, I slept in there: life really was good. I was sure that this was what being married would be like and my wife to be was really going to take care of me.

4. Going Steady - Milly

Manoeuvring Danny into moving in with me was about as easy as I had thought it would be. He was a boy, after all and seemed to have only one thought in mind and that was poking a certain part of his anatomy into a certain part of mine; its not that I was against it, but it was going to be on my terms.

If I wasn't prepared for him to sleep with me well I wouldn't have let him move in... but as I said, it was going to be on my terms! I introduced a few rules such as 'shower before bed'... I know what boys are like and I wasn't sharing a bedroom, let alone my bed with something that smelled like a polecat! He took it well although , to be fair, he wasn't a stranger to the idea of personal hygiene but he was just a typical boy who thought that there was no point in bathing after a soccer match as he would be playing again the following week!

I took care of everything: I introduced him to skin care and then hair care: now that his hair was longer, he had to look after it. When it became straggly, I trimmed it for him: just to shape it and prevent him from looking like 'Worzle Gummage'. By July, it was framing his face nicely and I kept telling him how manly it made him look.

At the start of his third year I began to pile on the pressure. He had very little body hair so it was relatively easy to persuade him to let me remove it for him: oh, I don't mean anything drastic, like electrolysis: that would have been too much of a give-away. Depilation cream was enough at that time and all I had to do was assure him that sex was much better if we both had smooth skin.

Actually it wasn't because all that he had was three and a half inches... Well I did say that he wasn't very big: but what he lacked in size, Danny more than made up for it with enthusiasm and stamina. I tended to use sex as a reward: when he did something right; when he pleased me, I let him. If he 'goofed-off' or upset me then he had to make his own entertainment.

Just before Christmas in that third year, I decided to begin breaking him in. He wasn't macho: that would have been a real turn-off, but I had to begin domesticating him. It was for his own good, after all. The first thing that had to go was the soccer. Oh, sure, I encouraged him to play, he was quite good and clearly loved it. Discouraging him or trying to ban him from playing would have had the opposite effect so I manoeuvred a few obstacles into his path. Firstly I kept reminding him of just how important his studies were: how my earning power was much less than his and how we would be relying on him once we were married and were starting a family.

Then a couple of days after one game, I microwaved his football boots. I knew that this trick shortened the life of trainers which is essentially what his boots were - trainers with studs. Nothing happened for a week or so, but they gradually began to fall apart as the soles separated from the uppers.

I looked at them with him and pointed out just how expensive they were: glumly he agreed. We looked at our finances - no. they wouldn't run to a new pair so he used a tube of superglue in an attempt to make running repairs. He was quite successful, or at least I convinced him that he was. Then half way through the first half of his next match, someone passed him the ball and he swerved to intercept the pass and his boot came to pieces causing him to sprain his ankle... Success! No more boy-sports. Oh, I was ever so sympathetic.

He was hobbling around looking glum so I took him to bed to cheer him up which worked very well.

The next week I "forgot" to wash his underwear: he only had three pairs of boxer-shorts and money was still tight...

"Oh, Milly, I'll just have to wear a dirty pair!" He almost wailed.

I gingerly picked a pair out of the linen basket and held them up pantomiming disgust as I did so. "If you want to stink, I can't stop you but don't think you are going to wear these around me!"

"What can I do?" He pleaded.

Suddenly I had an idea, or rather pretended too. I opened my linen draw and pulled out a pair of white cotton panties. "Here, these are clean: you can wear some of mine!"

He looked and sounded horrified. "But they are women's! I can't wear those, people will laugh!"

"Oh?" Said menacingly. "I wear them and no one laughs at me. Who are you planing on showing them too?"

He blushed and held out a hand. When he pulled them on, his tiny penis hardly made a bulge in the front. I smiled inwardly. "Uncomfortable, are they?" I asked sympathetically, trying to sound concerned.

"Umm, no, they are a good fit, actually." He mumbled. They should have been, I had bought them specially and they were his size: he never twigged that mine would have been loose on his boy-hips.

"Fantastic!" I said. "This is another way that we can save money: I've got more than enough to be going on with so you can wear mine from now on!" After he had gone out, I consigned his boxer shorts to the rubbish sack - the panties were here to stay, I even bought him some nice satin ones for Christmas and he was ever so surprised at how comfortable they were!

About a week later I moved him on a tiny bit by complaining that he kept sprinkling on the toilet floor and was really making it smell, He looked crest-fallen so I suggested that "if he was having trouble with the panties, he could always pee sitting down." Poor lamb looked panic stricken, but as I pointed out it was easier than having to mop the floor every time. I know he took the "suggestion" on-board because I rarely found the toilet seat in the up position though previously he rarely left it down.

I left it at panties and peeing for the moment: I didn't want to make any permanent changes yet, although as his hair grew, I surreptitiously trimmed it into a slightly more girly style each time and complimented him as to how masculine it made him look. His little chest puffed up when I told him this little white lie: the male ego is such a wonderful thing.

Half way through the spring term, I left my job at the University and moved over to a post as Financial Director at a Biotech Company that had recently opened up in Halesowen, just outside the city and my salary more than doubled overnight. Of cause I did not tell my Danny, I did not want him feeling secure, not yet anyway.

The Company was owned and managed by Brenda, a friend of mine, who I had met at the "Club": I've mentioned the club before, haven't I? I haven't? Oh, well...

It's a "Lady's" club situated in Edgbaston, one of the posher parts of the city. Its quite respectable in that it has a strictly no men rule. Its called "The Fish on a Bicycle" which is an odd name, which I won't go into yet: its a highly exclusive club that I have been a member of ever since I moved to Birmingham ten years earlier. Yes, it is a Lesbian Club, which suits me, as you will probably have guessed by now.

Brenda Forbes had been on to me to come and work for her for some months but I had put it off until I thought that the time was right... Danny was in panties, so I felt that I had enough control to make the next move.

5. Going Steady - Wendy

Milly probably saved my life. She realised that I was suicidal and got me in touch with the "Samaritans" within an hour of me going to see her. Why was I suicidal? Gender Dysphoria, I think they call it. I was a chick in a guy's body which was worse than being trapped - it was a life sentence. I needed help to transition and Milly knew it.