The girls in the data processing department looked curiously out of the windows of their office at the approach of the Accounts Manager, accompanied on his tour of the site by four teenage boys. “Here we go - this year’s intake of trainee accountants, like lambs to the slaughter,” said office supervisor Petra.

“Yeah, another group of snobby little brats who’ll lord it around here, learning everything we know, and then be bossing us around in a couple of years – it makes me sick” added Vanessa, one of the four machine operators in the department, “God, it’s the nineteen sixties, you’d have thought all this male chauvinism would be finished with!”

Petra smiled thoughtfully, “Yes, quite, anyway with this lot I think we should at least make sure that their time with us teaches them a bit about women’s power in this day and age – all part of management training, I would think.– Her colleagues happily agreed. With that the door opened and Mr Welch, the boss, entered, followed by the four neatly-suited youths.

Robert Smyth was experiencing the nervous trepidation of any young man on his first day at work. Eighteen years old, he had attended a minor public school and had struggled through O and A levels, getting just respectable enough results to get himself a decent job, though certainly not university material in those days, when places at university were for the elite scholars.

In any event, his middle-class parents had made it obvious enough that school fees had been a considerable burden, (a sacrifice, they called it), and that it was time he started to earn a living. He had come to realise that the whole public school charade had, in fact been, like so many other things, (even the hated affectation of the 'y' in their surname) part of his social-climbing parents’ grand design to impress their, generally better-off, circle of friends. The appellation “Trainee Accountant” suited their aspirations nicely.

In truth, Robert had been very pleased to get the position with the large engineering company in the next town to where he lived. His parents would have preferred him to be articled to an accounting practice, but his results were not really of the standard they sought. In this position, he would be taking an diploma in Business Studies on day-release for two years, whilst learning various aspects of the company’s business, before going on to study for accountancy qualifications. For the present he would have a junior management position in the company.

As they walked along, Mr Welch had been explaining the modern punch-card data processing facility used by the company. A very primitive type of computer, at that time it was cutting-edge, and obviously a source of great pride for the company. Mr Welch was explaining that, due to the facility still being fairly new, the four new staff members were to be housed in a temporary, Portakabin-type building, alongside the unit that housed the vast processor.

They entered the data processing office. The first thing that struck Robert was the entirely feminine environment. An only child in a very male-dominated home, and having attended all-boys schools, Robert’s experience of women was minimal. Rather shy by nature, Robert had never had a girl-friend: the few attempts by his mother to get him together with friends' daughters during school holidays having proved abortive. Confident and articulate enough in a male environment, Robert found himself tongue-tied and embarrassingly prone to blushing, when in female company, and tended to avoid it if possible.

Now he stood, somewhat bemused, looking around this parlour of femininity, trying to take in the various female items that adorned the place. Then there were the women. Mr Welch introduced them to the group: Petra the Team Leader, a formidable looking woman of about his mother’s age, Elsie, a dark-haired woman of a similar age, and two very attractive younger girls, introduced as Vanessa and Jenny.

All the women seemed very self-assured, regarding the group of young men with a kind of amused curiosity, and, Robert couldn’t help but noticing, had all definitely adopted that latest fashion trend, the mini skirt - their working overalls had all obviously been shortened to well above the knee.

Robert shyly tried to avert his gaze from the expanse of thigh that appeared to be almost aggressively on view, and, to his horror, felt the warm flush in his cheeks as he started to blush. Mr Welch looked up from his notes “Ah, yes, Robert Smyth, will be the first trainee to be based with you, Petra, I’m sure Robert will be very glad to have the chance to learn more about your operation.”

Robert felt his colour rising again as Petra swivelled in her chair to face him, exposing even more thigh, “Oh yes, we’ll look after Robert” she said, smiling whimsically, “he’ll soon be just like one of the girls.” This brought laughter all round, and Robert face was now quite crimson. As the group left the office one of his fellow-trainees nudged Robert conspiratorially, “Cor, did you see those legs? You’ll be alright there Rob old son,” he chuckled. Robert gulped - he wasn’t so sure.…

Back in the Portakabin, the ladies were in good spirits. “Well, what do we think of young Master Smyth?” asked Vanessa,

“A very nice-looking boy, and did you see how prettily he blushed?” laughed Jenny.

Petra was looking thoughtful, “I think he could be blushing quite a bit by the time we’ve finished with him! Oh yes, I think young Bobby” - the girls chuckled at this - “will be putty in our hands, if we play our cards right.”

“I take my metaphors well-mixed,” said young Vanessa tartly.

“Watch it,” retorted Petra with mock menace. The ladies settled down to discuss the programme for their new trainee – and their discussions were not confined to data processing.

The first few days of Robert Smyth’s secondment to the data processing department went by in a blur. The ladies had agreed that he should be kept on the back foot from the start. He was immediately addressed as “Bobby” by all the girls, which was very cheeky, given that 'Mr' would always be used towards management in those days. His protests that he was always known as Robert were laughingly brushed aside. After all, they said, they were sure that he would like to become “one of the girls,” and 'Bobby' was far more appropriate!

Then there was the frequent “accidental” exposures of expanses of female thigh to which Robert found himself subjected. Apart from the way the ladies' overalls seemed to creeping further and further up their thighs as they sat at their desks, he seemed to be forever coming in to find someone adjusting a suspender, or bra-strap, which caused outbreaks of giggling at his obvious embarrassment – he seemed to be spending so much time blushing, that you would have thought his skin colour was changing permanently. He was at last learning how mischievously knowing girls could tease a shy boy.

Another way that the girls brought a colour to Robert’s cheeks was the showing off of intimate items of lingerie that they had purchased. Various items of frilly underwear, or revealing nighties, were produced for the approval of the office and flaunted around – Robert really didn’t know where to look. When his opinion was laughingly sought he was reduced to a few mumbled comments which prompted the ladies to remark that he was probably feeling left out, and that it was a pity he didn’t have any frillies of his own, so that he could join in with the “rest of the girls!” Joking offers to buy him some – "Perhaps we’ll get you something for Christmas, Bobby – you’d look really cute,” made Robert really squirm, as the girls dissolved with laughter at his discomfort.

Then there was the conversation. The ladies seemed to take great delight in discussing intimate details of their private lives in front of Robert, which also had him squirming with embarrassment. The stories of Elsie’s life with her husband, and the two younger girls' adventures with their boyfriends, were very graphic, and Robert didn’t know where to put himself at these times.

Petra was more reserved, laughingly saying that she didn’t know how they kept it all up. She, it transpired was a divorcee, living in a flat in a smart part of town, and with no regular male escort. She nudged Robert one day “I’m on the lookout for a good-looking young man to make me happy,” she said to general amusement – "Are you available Bobby?” she said, teasingly, much to the hilarity of the others. It was, of course, obvious to them all that Robert was a virgin, and they privately amused themselves discussing how their young pet might be de-flowered.

Comments like this were making a big impression on Robert. He couldn’t understand how he was starting to feel strangely attracted to this woman at least twice his age, but he undeniably was. Petra was physically imposing and a very powerful character, who ruled the small office by sheer force of personality. She still obviously kept herself in very good shape, and dressed smartly and modernly to make the most of her not inconsiderable assets.

Robert couldn’t understand why he felt attracted to her rather than the two younger girls, who were closer to his own age, but was seemingly being driven by these strange desires. He found himself fantasising about being sexually initiated in various ways by this powerful woman, and his gaze was often drawn to her in the office, as he found himself admiring her shapely legs as her skirt rode up, or catching tantalising glimpses of her ample cleavage as a button on her blouse was 'accidentally' left undone.

To Robert’s embarrassment, on several occasions he found Petra smiling knowingly at him as he mused on her attractions. This caused him to blush scarlet, and desperately try to cover his confusion by pretending to be working, but, though nothing was ever said, he got the impression that Petra knew exactly what he was thinking, and was enjoying his secret predicament. He felt he was being drawn into a web that he didn’t really understand – but the time was coming soon when he certainly would.

Vanessa’s ball gown was the next source of embarrassment for Robert. Vanessa was keen competition dancer, and one day brought in one of her dance dresses which had been collected from the cleaners for a competition that evening. The pink, sequinned gown, with its voluminous cloud of scented petticoats, was hung carefully behind the office door, and to Robert seemed to be an omnipresent reminder of femininity, which appeared to fill half the office.

Robert, for once finding his voice, commented laughingly that he couldn’t see how anybody could even move in such a creation, let alone dance in it. Vanessa’s reply brought great amusement when she said that it did take practice, but she’d be quite happy to loan Bobby such a dress and train him to wear it properly if he liked. As the others enthusiastically agreed Robert stammered “Don’t be ridiculous you’ll never get me wearing anything like that,” and stormed off out to the accompaniment of peals of laughter.

The situation worsened on his return a few minutes later when, still upset, he pushed open the door, on which the dress was hanging, with unaccustomed force, and found himself enveloped in the delicate froufrou of the falling garment.

“For goodness sake be careful!” stormed Vanessa, seeing her best gown in disarray, but Petra was quick to react.

“Oh come on Vanessa, Bobby was just being a bit too clumsy in taking you up on your offer to let him try on your dress.” Then, smiling, to Robert, “I know you’re a bit shy Bobby, but if you want to wear Vanessa’s dress just ask. You don’t need to grab it like that, just ask nicely, you’ll need some help getting into it, but we’ll all be very pleased to help you, won’t we girls?”

As the girls laughing delightedly, and moved mockingly towards him, Bobby hastily disentangled himself from the frills and petticoats and fled the office to cries of “Come on spoilsport, you know you want to, really!”

After he had gone the ladies chatted excitedly, “That would be a laugh, getting Bobby into something like that, wouldn’t it?” chuckled young Jennifer. “That would really show him what’s what.”

“Yes…” said Petra thoughtfully, “He’d really know he was one of the girls then, but its no good forcing him into it – we’ve got to be in a position where he’ll have no choice but to wear a frock, or do whatever else we want him to, and I intend to do just that – I have quite some plans for young Mr Smyth.”

The others looked quizzical “What, you’re telling us that you think you can get him agreeing to wear a dress without us physically forcing him into it?” asked Vanessa sceptically.

“Oh yes, that very dress if you like,” said Petra, indicating the elaborate ball gown, “and doing a lot more besides, because once he’s in it he’ll be putty in my hands.”

The ladies disbelief was clear, and jokingly the bet was struck that Petra would present Bobby to the female staff of the accounts department, wearing the elaborate frock. The ladies clearly never expected to see it, but Petra had far greater plans in mind, and Bobby’s appearance in petticoats was just a step on the way to her achieving her ultimate goal.

With all the hectoring and distractions, it was not surprising that Robert found concentration difficult, and errors in his work were frequent. Matters came to a head when, shortly after the ball gown event, a particularly costly error in the department’s output led to a summons from Mr Welsh, and Petra had a heated meeting with the manager. The outcome of this was a bringing forward of Robert’s three-months' review with his supervisor, Petra. With other trainees that passed through her hands Petra treated these meetings as a formality; however this one was going to be very different.

As they seated themselves in the private meeting room, Petra noted with quiet satisfaction that Robert was already colouring, and, smiling inwardly, she moved her position to expose even more thigh to the young man’s view. She noted how he attempted to avert his gaze, but how his eyes were inexorably drawn back to her legs.

Petra adopted a firm tone and explained to Robert that management were not happy with his progress, that he was making too many mistakes, and that unless his output improved he was quite likely to lose his job. She fixed Robert with a firm stare:-

“The feeling was that you should go. However I’ve asked that they give me another month, until after Christmas, to try to get you to improve, and they’ve agreed. So you see, Bobby,” she said, giving him an appraising look, “Your position very much depends on convincing me of your worth over the next month – what do you think?”

Robert was stunned. The thought of losing his job, and the shame of having to face his family with the fact, filled him with trepidation. “Well, thank you for standing up for me,” he stammered. “I’ll try to improve, honestly, but I just find it so difficult to concentrate with all the girls always teasing me and so forth, I don’t know what to do really”.

Petra smiled at him and took a deep breath. This moment was the crux of her plan, and she had rehearsed her next lines in her head many times.

“I don’t know why you have such a problem with us, what are you afraid of? Lots of young men would be very happy to come and work with us. You just seem to want to fight against us all the time. Why don’t you just relax? You’d find things a lot easier if you just settled down and tried to be one of the girls.” At this she paused and gave him a meaningful look. “I’m sure the others would be a lot more helpful to you if you just joined in with them, and stopped trying to be different”.

“But I am different” sighed Robert, “How can I possibly…”

Petra cut him off sharply “Look, its very simple Bobby, you can either just go with the flow, in which case I promise you’ll get all the help you need, or finish up losing this job, and we wouldn’t want that to happen would we? Anyway, what’s the big deal if the other girls do tease you a bit; they tease each other don’t they? It's all just a part of being one of the girls.”

Robert cringed at that hated expression again. “How can I possibly be one of the girls?” he sighed.

Petra pressed on, smiling confidently, “I have an idea as to how I can help you with that, Bobby. At least we can show the other girls that you’re prepared to make the effort to fit in. But, and this is a big but, you’ve got to be prepared to go along with what I have planned. After all,” she said, smiling pleasantly, “it's your job we’re trying to save, isn’t it? What do you think, are you prepared to give my plan a try, and see if we can save the situation?”

Robert looked puzzled, but knew that in reality he was prepared to grasp at this straw that was being offered, “But, Petra, what is your plan, I don’t really know what you want me to do,” he said with an appealing look in his eyes.

“That’s all part of the deal, Bobby”, replied Petra, “You’ve got to be prepared to trust my judgement in these matters, just as any of the other girls would. You can be sure that whatever I ask you to do, though it might sometimes seem a bit strange, will be purely for your benefit in the long run. You must remember that, without the co-operation of the rest of the girls this won’t work, so you must show them that you really are prepared to make the effort to be one of the girls, then I’m sure they’ll be only to happy to give you all the help that you need to make a success of this job. So, Bobby, are you prepared to trust me on this?”

Robert digested this, he felt vaguely uneasy, but knew that he was being offered a lifeline without which he was pretty certain he would be unable to succeed. “Mmm, yes … suppose so,” he said quietly.

Petra frowned, “You suppose so – it would be nice to see a little more enthusiasm,” she snapped. “I’m trying to help you here. It’ll be no good if the girls, or me for that matter, think your heart’s not really in this. I want to see you playing your part in this to the full, and that means at least looking as if you’re happy to be doing what you’re asked. No more being aloof and looking as if what the girls are doing is beneath you, you’ve got to really start being part of the team, as I’ve said many times, just like one of the girls!”

Robert gulped as he took this in. What had Petra got in mind? How could he, management trainee and all that, be at the beck and call of this intimidating woman and her staff of girls? Still, he nodded as Petra asked, again, if he wanted to take this chance she was offering, and was prepared to follow her instructions? - emphasising again, that it was for his own good.

“Right, good,” she continued. “We have an excellent opportunity this weekend for you to really start to make the right impression. As you may know, from time to time we girls in the offices all get together for a girly evening at someone’s home, and this Saturday it's at my flat. I’m sure I can persuade the other ladies to bend the rules this once, and allow you to come along – what an excellent way to show that you’d really like to be one of us that would be!”

Robert started to colour at the very thought of such an occasion, but Petra hurried on, “Of course, it takes a lot of getting ready for the evening, and all my girls will come along during the day to help me get the flat ready, and get all the food and drinks sorted out, it would really show how much you wanted to muck in if you joined the rest of the team for the day, wouldn’t it? I think that it’s an important part of your education that you start to learn to see what it really feels like to be one of us.”

Robert’s mind was in turmoil. “I know you’re trying to help, Petra, really I do but, the thought of being there at your flat with all those girls, I don’t know…"

Petra regarded him thoughtfully, “That really sums up the problem, doesn’t it?” she said, smiling, “You’re unhappy about being the only man there aren’t you?”

Robert nodded slowly. “You see that’s exactly what I’m trying to do, to stop you thinking like that and get you to start seeing yourself as one of the girls, if we can achieve that you’ll definitely start to see things in a very different light. I guarantee that your life at work will start to get much easier, you might even start to enjoy yourself!” She looked at him questioningly before continuing, “So Bobby, are you prepared to really give this a try, really go along with my plan to help you, or shall we just tell Mr Welch that things are not working out and you should be released?”

Petra regarded the young man steadily. He slowly nodded “Yes…yes. Ok,” he murmured. Petra’s heart leapt. Her plan had worked perfectly, Bobby had agreed at every stage to go along with her ideas, and there was no way now that she and the girls were going to let him wriggle off the hook. Her mind was now working overtime. She re-crossed her legs and smiled to herself as she saw him start to colour at the sight of her exposed thighs. She intuitively decided to press ahead with a further, very naughty, idea that had been lurking at the back of her mind.

“You blush so prettily Bobby”, she teased. “A great deal of your problem I’m sure is down to your shyness with women, perhaps we can help there as well.” She paused, “Have you ever had sex with a lady, Bobby?”

For a moment she thought he was going to explode as he turned bright red. He seemed incapable of reply, and she repeated the question. He shook his head slowly, his gaze downcast. Petra smiled kindly. “I thought not,” she continued. “Well, I can certainly help you there.” She looked at him with undisguised lust, “I think that can be Lesson One in your training programme, and I will take personal responsibility for that aspect,” she laughed.

Robert felt like the proverbial rabbit caught in the headlights. “But…but…” he started to protest. Petra gently but firmly cut him short “Now Bobby, you’ve just agreed several times to go along with my plans and now the very first thing I suggest, and I might say you’ll find a very enjoyable part, and you’re backing out – what’s the matter, you’re not letting me down already are you?”

“But Petra, it's just that, I don’t know, you’re my boss, the age difference…”

“None of that matters” said Petra firmly. “I’ve seen how you look at me - you do find me attractive don’t you?”

Robert hesitated and then nodded slowly.

“Well, that’s decided then. I might tell you, young man, that many men would be falling over themselves at the chance you’re getting.”

Unnoticed by Robert she had advanced across to his chair and now stood in front of him. She cupped his face in her hands. “Now my pretty Bobby, you’ll be at my flat eight o’clock Friday night, won’t you? You’ll be staying the night, so you’ll have to think of something to tell your parents. For someone who is going to be a manger of the future, I’m sure you’ll find sufficient initiative, so that won’t be a problem.” Walking back to her desk she looked over her shoulder at him “Agreed?” Bobby nodded slowly, red as a beetroot.

Petra perched on the edge of her desk. “Well I think that concludes our interview, are we agreed on the plan?” Bobby nodded slowly. “Good, now let's go back into the office and tell the other girls and, by the way, let’s stop this silly nonsense about objecting to them calling you 'Bobby'. It's just their way of trying to be friendly, just trying to help you feel like one of the girls.”

They returned to the main office, where Petra happily informed the others that Bobby had agreed to make the effort to try to fit in and be one of the girls, adding that she was sure that they would all do their best to help him. This was greeted with great enthusiasm, and a red-faced Robert soon scurried off to make the tea for the first time, politely refusing the offer of a pinnie to protect his suit. After he had gone Petra smiled “A pinnie will be the least of his problems in a few days time,” she mused.

“You’ve hooked him then, Petra?” queried Vanessa. “Oh yes, like a lamb to the slaughter” Petra laughed, “Now, you all know the plans for Saturday, let's make sure that Bobby is really one of the girls after this weekend!”

On Friday evening at eight o’clock Robert walked nervously towards the door of Petra’s flat, carrying his small bag containing his overnight things. He had told his parents that he was staying at a friend’s house, and had been suitably evasive when questioned as to the identity of the friend. “Just someone from work,” he had muttered, and had refused to be drawn under further questioning. What his mother would think if she knew his real destination was here, he couldn’t begin to contemplate. His heart pounded and he felt extremely nervous as he stood outside door of the flat. What on earth was he doing here? How had he managed to get himself into this situation? Despite these thoughts he knew he felt strangely excited. He had fantasised all week about the possible events that lay ahead, but now, could he go through with this? He had almost decided to turn and flee, and risk the consequences that might lie in store for him at work, when the door opened.

“Ah, it's you, Bobby, I thought I heard someone outside, did you ring the bell?” said Petra with a welcoming smile. “N-no, I was just…” stammered Robert, completely taken aback by Petra’s sudden appearance – and what an appearance! She wore a short, black housecoat made of some semi-transparent material that clearly showed the black basque, French knickers, suspenders and black stockings that she wore beneath it. If Bobby’s pulse had been racing before, it now went into overdrive, his eyes almost popped out of his head as he took in the sight in front of him.

“I see you like what you see, Bobby”, said Petra with a little chuckle, “I thought you’d like this little outfit. Anyway, don’t just stand there, come on in” she said taking his hand and leading him into the flat, “let’s just relax and get to know each other a little better”.

Having told Bobby to sit down whilst she got him a drink Petra left him to take in the ambience of the flat. The room was very comfortably furnished, with low lighting and music playing somewhere in the background. He relaxed into the soft cushions of the large settee, but quickly sat bolt upright as his hostess returned with brandy glass. Robert, who had not been asked what he would like to drink, started to say that he didn’t drink spirits but he was quickly overruled, Petra saying that it would help him relax. She sat on a small chair facing him, and as the unfamiliar spirit burned his throat, she quietly reminded him of the difficult position he was in, and again how important it was that he just relaxed and allowed himself to go along with her plans for the weekend, “I’m sure,” she added with a smile, “by tomorrow night everyone will accept you as one of the girls”.

As she returned with the next drink, his first having, to his surprise, somehow disappeared, Petra seated herself on the settee next to him. As she relaxed and moved against him, her diaphanous negligee gaped open allowing him easy view of her ample cleavage, and her thighs disappearing into her ravishingly frilled French knickers.

She kissed him, and he could feel her lovely breasts against him. What was happening? “Relax my little darling,” said Petra with a smile, “I promise not to hurt you.”

As they entered her bedroom Robert saw on the bed, laid out neatly, a beautiful, baby pink full-length nightie, the hem ruffled and trimmed all round in white eyelet lace. The shiny satin fabric of the garment seemed to glisten in the low lighting of the bedroom and Robert immediately became aroused at the thought of Petra wearing such a gorgeous-looking item.

His reverie was interrupted by Petra, “Right, I’ll just leave you for a few minutes to get ready,” she said gently, picking up the nightie off the bed and stroking it thoughtfully.

“Do you like the feel of this?” she questioned, placing his hand against the lustrous fabric and stroking it against him. He nodded dumbly, and tried to say that he couldn’t wait to see her in it, but his mouth was so dry that he had difficulty getting the words out. He needn’t have bothered, as Petra quickly continued, “Good, well just get undressed and slip it on whilst I clear up in the lounge – I can’t wait to see you in it”.

Robert was dumbfounded “What, you…you…. Want me to wear this?” he said incredulously, holding the nightie out as if it would bite him. “Of course I do”, said Petra, laughing gently, “I want my little virgin Bobby to look really pretty whilst I make love to him, it’s a very special occasion after all, and I’ve bought this especially for you”.

Robert struggled to find the right words. “But Petra, this is a girl’s nightie – surely I don’t have to wear this for our…you know…”

As he ran out of words Petra stroked him gently on the cheek, “Now Bobby, don’t spoil the moment by making me cross,” she scolded him. “You’ve already agreed that I know far more than you in these situations. You see, I think it’s important that, as well as getting rid of your shyness around women, you also begin to understand what things feel like from the woman’s point of view.”

“Anyway”, she added with a girlish giggle, “I think you’ll find you’ll quite enjoy the feeling of wearing of wearing such a pretty nightie, and if you don’t, well, nobody’s going to see you so where’s the harm? Just treat it as a little game, a bit of fun. You’ll love it I promise you,” she said laughing. “Now hurry up, a lady doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” Thus saying, she kissed him lightly on the lips and swept out of the room.

Left alone, Robert pondered again how he had got into this position. Ruefully, he held up the sensuous nightie and shrugged his shoulders – why on earth did Petra want him wearing such a thing? Still, there was no harm in it really, he thought, subconsciously justifying it to himself, and resignedly removed his shirt, trousers and socks. He hesitated about his pants, but then slowly removed them as well and held up the silky garment to see which way round it should go. Tentatively he slipped his head and shoulders into the unfamiliar garment and allowed its lustrous folds to slide down his body. It was so different, it felt nothing like anything male, and the effect was like nothing he could have imagined. As he adjusted the nightdress over his hips, and allowed its full length to fall lightly to his ankles, he thought he was going to faint, his knees felt so weak.

Carefully, he sat on the edge of the bed…he was totally confused. What were these strange feelings that engulfed him? The warming spirit he had drunk, the sense of being in the power of this awesome woman, the soft, delicious kiss of the first female garment he had ever worn…he felt significant changes were happening to him, but was not really sure what. He looked down at himself, a normal heterosexual  youth wearing a belaced pink satin nightie. He shook his head in bewilderment.

Petra opened the bedroom door quietly, and caught her breath in excitement at the vision that confronted her, this handsome young man seated nervously on her bed, apparently deep in thought, wearing the oh-so-feminine, pretty nightie that she had instructed him to wear. In that moment, the full extent of how she had succeeded in establishing her power over him was joyfully confirmed. She knew now for certain that, with just a little more careful manipulation, her future plans for Bobby were within reach.

Robert started as she closed the bedroom door. “Oh Bobby, that’s gorgeous,” she enthused, “Stand up, let me see you, yes, that really suits you, you look so pretty.”

Robert coloured scarlet again as he obediently followed her commands to turn around so that she could better admire her creation. Petra came up to him and adjusted the puffed up shoulders and frilly neckline of the garment. Standing back, she ran her hands down his satin-encased body, sending fresh shivers of electricity right through him.

“Ooh, Bobby, you look so sexy, I can’t keep my hands off you, come on, relax, just lie on the bed and let your mistress take over.”

The night was ecstasy for Robert, although at all times felt himself totally under the control, and in thrall of, this strong and commanding woman. He was frequently reminded of his inferior position, and never allowed, for even a second, to assume any sort of control of the situation. Several times Petra playfully drew attention to “Bobby’s pretty pink nightie,” and how sexy she found him in it.

As the night progressed Robert happily shed his nervousness and just allowed himself to be the plaything of his “mistress,” as Petra began to refer to herself. Petra couldn’t believe her luck. Here she was, in her early forties, with this handsome young man as her feminised bedroom pet, prepared to do, it seemed, whatever she commanded. What a good idea it had been to purchase the satin nightie for him! As things went on she became more and more more and more determined to use the possibilities that presented themselves, and go far beyond her original plans for Bobby, ensuring that he completely succumbed to her – for more than just a weekend.

When, eventually, Petra was sated, somewhat to his surprise, Robert was taken to the guest room to sleep, Petra saying mysteriously, “This is where you will sleep – for now”. As he pondered this and got into bed, still wearing the satin nightie that Petra insisted he kept on, he started to wonder for the first time what she had in mind for him, and realised, with some trepidation that it would be whatever she wanted! He felt like a helpless slave to her. Petra meanwhile lay in her own bed planning carefully the events of the following day which, she was now fairly sure, would ensure that Bobby’s future would be entirely in her hands. By the end of the day he would be “one of the girls” in more ways than he could possibly imagine.

Petra woke early and lay in bed for a few minutes thinking how well things had gone so far, and running through in her mind, once again, her plan for a day that, if all went according to plan, was to see Bobby’s position in her life secured. He had so far taken every bait that she offered hook, line and sinker, all that remained was to reel him in and secure him in her feminine net once and for all.

Robert was aroused from his slumber by Petra gently shaking him awake.

“Come on lover boy, I hope you’ve got some energy left,” she said with a laugh, “we’ve got plenty to do today to get everything ready for this evening”. She gently, but firmly took him by the arm and pulled him up from the bed, marvelling again at how attractive she found this handsome youth in his pretty satin nightie, and was amused again at how he blushed as he looked down and was embarrassed by his satin-clad body. “Here, put these on and get dressed”, she said firmly, handing him a pair of satin, lace-trimmed knickers in a colour matching his nightie.

Robert was taken aback, “B-but why do I need to wear girls’ knickers?” he stammered, holding them out as if they were hot.

“Look, silly,” said Petra with exaggerated patience “the whole point of you being here today is for you to find out a little more about what it feels like to be one of the girls, isn’t it?” Robert nodded glumly,

“Yes, but…” he started.

“No buts,” replied Petra firmly, “wearing nice silky knickers is just a little reminder of what girls feel like. Now get them on. And,” she added with a little giggle, make sure you keep them nice and clean.”

She left him to get dressed, the feeling of the knickers under his trousers another new sensation to be added to the many he was experiencing on this bizarre weekend. He was beginning to realise that, if he was honest with himself, he was so under the spell of this woman that he found it very difficult to resist any of her requests, and certainly raised very little objection when, following breakfast she tied a pretty little pink floral apron round his waist and told him to start helping her with the dusting. His momentary protest was soon silenced – “One of the girls, remember,” said Petra wagging an admonishing finger at him.

Soon the other girls arrived, first Elsie and Jennifer, both laughingly bringing a hot flush to his cheeks by commenting how pretty he looked in his pinnie. Next came Vanessa. To Robert’s surprise she was carrying on a hanger the ball gown that he remembered from the embarrassing incident in the office. Petra greeted her effusively,

“Be a dear, Bobby, and hang this up in your room for later,” said Petra, to Bobby’s puzzlement - and was that a wink he caught being exchanged between them? “Then”, she continued before he could think further about it “make us all a coffee and serve us in the lounge”. Robert did as he was asked. As he busied himself in the kitchen he could hear whispered conversation, and much stifled giggling in the lounge. What, he wondered, were they cooking up now?

As Robert re-appeared with the coffee Jennifer piped up with another comment about how pretty Bobby looked in his pinnie. “Really, quite the little maidservant,” she added with a giggle, “You’re really finding out what its like being one of the girls aren’t you?”

Robert, blushing scarlet, nodded agreement. Elsie was looking thoughtfully at him.

“You don’t really look like one of the girls though do you, Bobby? Just wearing a little pinnie hardly qualifies you for that does it?”

Robert looked questioningly at her. “Well, I can’t see what else…” he said quietly.

Vanessa interrupted him with a laugh. “Don’t be silly look at us, you’re wearing trousers, what are we all wearing?” Robert gulped, “Well ladies’ skirts and dresses, of course,” he replied. “But I…”

“Precisely,” interrupted Vanessa again, “One of the girls, rubbish!” and, turning to Petra, “If he’s going to really feel like one of the girls a pinnie on its own is no good, you’ll have to get him into a dress. How can we treat him as one of the girls looking like that?”

As Robert stood, dumbfounded at this latest suggestion, the two younger girls were quick to take up the idea, “Yes,” they laughed, “Let him really show us he wants to be one of us – get him into a skirt!”

Petra stood up, looking for all the world as if the idea had never occurred to her. “Well, yes”, she said hesitantly, “I suppose you’re right really. You’d better come with me Bobby, I’m sure I can fix you up with something.” Robert stood rooted to the spot, shaking his head speechlessly, but with Petra’s firm grip on his arm soon moved out of the lounge, which they left to a barrage of “helpful” suggestions from the others.

“You’d better get those trousers off then,” said Petra nodding in his direction as she opened her wardrobe. “This should fit you ok,” she said as she removed a simple-looking short summer dress from the rail. Robert was struggling to keep up with events, it was time, he thought, to draw the line.

“Oh come on Petra, I can’t possibly wear a dress.”

She looked at him and smiled. “Oh don’t be silly. You’ve worn a nice satin nightie, and are wearing very pretty knickers at the moment – it’s not difficult.”

She came across and kissed him lightly “We agreed it’s very important that you went along with what they asked, and showed you were really prepared to be one of the girls. I didn’t expect them to ask you to do this I admit, but where’s the harm?”

As Robert struggled to find an argument Petra kissed him again, “Anyway, never mind them”, she said firmly. “I’d like to see you in this dress, I’m sure you’ll look really cute.” She added, very firmly, “In fact as your mistress, I insist you wear it.”

Robert was taken aback by this suddenly more authoratitive tone, and began to realise that subtle changes in Petra’s attitude towards him during the day were having their effect. He felt powerless to resist or argue, and slowly started to remove his clothes. “Come on, hurry up, the girls are waiting to see you”, said Petra briskly, and she was soon pulling up the zip of the short, summer dress she had helped the dazed and confused Robert into. She then insisted on him wearing a pair of low-heeled sandals as wearing his man’s shoes would “completely spoil the effect”. She stood back admiring her handiwork “Oh yes, much more like one of the girls,” she laughed, and taking him firmly by the arm propelled him into the lounge, and to the waiting ladies.

His appearance provoked immediate hilarity amongst his colleagues. They were clearly delighted to have this young man, one day to be their superior, dressed in a little dress and heels, and very much at their beck and call. Robert had never known such humiliation as he was forced to walk back and forth “in a ladylike manner,” bob little curtsies as he served them their coffee and biscuits, and generally run around at their whim.

He was required to be photographed in a group picture of the girls, “just for a laugh.” All the time there was a constant accompaniment of teasing and tormenting, as the girls wasted no opportunity to remind him of how cute he looked in a dress and how, if he practiced really hard, he would soon be much more like one of the girls.

“Yes, a few sessions like this, and I’m sure Petra will soon have you being a nice little housemaid”, chuckled Elsie, to Robert’s horror. A few sessions like this? He looked questioningly at Petra – but received only a thoughtful stare in response.

After coffee all the girls, including Robert, got to work busily tidying the flat, preparing food, and generally readying the flat for the evening’s party. He was kept on his toes constantly, the subject of many ribald comments, and more than a few teasingly exploring hands up his legs. “Just another thing we girls have to learn to put up with!” they laughed. “But we’re only teasing, Bobby, we know who you belong too now.”

Robert was, again, horrified. They clearly knew all about what had gone on the previous night.

Sure enough, after their departure, Petra soon directed Robert into the bedroom. “So, my little darling obviously enjoyed being explored by all those hands. Well, just remember, this belongs to me now. The other girls may tease you just for fun, but from now on you are only for my enjoyment, until I tell you otherwise, ok?” She arched her eyebrow questioningly, and Robert, dumbfounded again, nodded mutely.

Petra left him stunned on her bed, and after a while he heard the water running into a bath, and then Petra calling him to come and assist her. He entered the bathroom to find her luxuriating in a deep, foaming bath, the powerful odour of rich feminine toiletries surrounding him.

“Right, Bobby, I want you to bathe me, like a good maid should for her mistress,” she said teasingly.

Maid? Thought Bobby to himself, where were things leading? “You’d better take that dress off”, Petra continued, “We don’t want it getting all wet”. And so Bobby, stripped to his knickers, was taught how Petra wanted him to carefully soap her all over, a process she obviously thoroughly enjoyed. Her frequent mentions of him learning what she wanted so that she didn’t have to tell him in the future worried him – clearly her plans for him went well beyond the weekend. After he had held a towel for her to step into, and helped her dry herself, she insisted on him getting into the perfumed bath water himself. “We want you smelling nice for the evening, don’t we?” she giggled. Running more hot water into the bath she told him to stay in it until she was ready for him.

After some time Petra reappeared at the door, looking very smart in a crisp, frilly white blouse and a long black skirt. “Right, that’s me ready for the evening. Out you get, dry yourself off and come to my bedroom, we’ve got a bit of work to do to get you looking good for tonight.” Bobby hurriedly dried himself and quickly made his way into the bedroom, where he found Petra seated on the bed, surrounded by various items of very feminine-looking lingerie. Bobby sensed, with an awful foresight what was coming.

“Good, now that you’re nice and clean, we can show you what’s involved for a girl in getting ready for an evening like this. It’s ok for you men, just throw on a pair of trousers or a suit and you’re away, now you can see for yourself what’s involved, and remember, this time you’ve got me helping you, just imagine doing it on your own!”

With that Petra stood up and lifted Vanessa’s ball gown down from where it hung against the wardrobe door, its many layers of lively petticoats gently rustling as she did so.

“I’m sure we can make you look really lovely in this,” she said, with a wicked smile.

Bobby was mortified “Oh no Petra, you can’t make me wear that in front of all the girls, I’ll look ridiculous – no I won’t do it!”

Petra smiled at this show of resistance. This was the moment where she really closed the trap “Yes you will, Bobby, and I’ll give you several reasons why. Firstly, Vanessa took your boys’ clothes with her when she left, so there’s no possibility of you wearing anything male. Secondly, you’ve already been wearing a dress and knickers, and acting like a housemaid, for most of the day, which will soon become public knowledge if you don’t do as you’re told. That picture of you and the other girls would look really nice on the office wall don’t you think? But finally, Bobby, and the main reason, is that I want you to wear it. This is the absolute moment of truth for you. Do you remember standing in the office ranting and raving about how you would never wear anything like this?”

She indicated the dress and Bobby nodded forlornly, “Well, as of that moment the only way I could really convince the girls that you could be one of us was to get you into it – and that’s what’s going to happen, whether you like it or not. You see Bobby, you need their help if you’re going to make a success of your job, and I’m determined that you are. I’m fascinated by the prospect of having my boss in the daytime being my maid and obedient young lover in the evenings, and that’s what I’ve decided is going to happen!”

Petra stood hands on hips, regarding him severely. Bobby was aghast – could this really be happening to him? “I don’t think you’ve got too much choice, have you?” queried Petra, holding out an outrageously frilly pair of satin knickers for him. “The sack, and be branded a failure, or my, much more enjoyable, plan for you.”

Bobby felt as if events had taken on a dreamlike quality as Petra helped him dress – it was as if he was a spectator at events happening to someone else. However, the sensation of  the satin knickers around his waist, or the glossy new feeling of stockings being eased up his legs and fastened to the suspender belt that Petra had fixed round his waist, were all too real.

As she helped him with the stockings, she surprised him again by saying “We really should shave these legs, but we haven’t time tonight – we must do it next time though.”

“The next time?” Bobby’s mind swam, and what had she meant about being her “maid and obedient young lover in the evenings”? He couldn’t believe what was happening to him - he had arrived on the Friday evening as the potential future boss, and was now being talked about as a humble, curtseying housemaid! His thoughts were interrupted as Petra held up what appeared to be a deep pink corset or basque:

“Now, let’s get you into this, Vanessa’s a bit trimmer than you, so we need to nip that waist in a bit.” She insisted he stand up straight and hold a deep breath as she fastened the garment around him and then, once again making him breathe in deeply as she tightened the laces at the back – and oh, he had never felt such constriction!

“I can’t wear this, I can hardly breathe,” he protested.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’ll soon get used to it”, she laughed, “You see, you’re beginning to realise just what we girls have to go through.” She then made him put on a pink satin slip, which seemed to be of a similar material to the nightie he had worn the previous night, before leading him to the dressing table.

“Now, let’s sort out your make-up, we want you looking really pretty for the evening don’t we?”

Despite the humiliations already heaped upon him, Bobby was appalled at the prospect of wearing make up. “Surely I don’t need to wear make-up?” he protested.

“Whether you need to or not isn’t the point”, said Petra firmly.” Do you think we girls need to wear make-up? Of course not, it’s just another inconvenience we have to go through. It’s all part of being one of the girls, Bobby.” She seated him at the dressing table. “Now, I’m only going to do a little light make-up, we don’t want you looking like a little tart do we?” she said with a smile.

“Pay attention, now, you won’t always have me to help you.” What seemed like ages later, she stood back to admire her handiwork, and pronounced herself satisfied with the effect that the light eye make-up, foundation and pink lipstick had produced. The final touch was a shoulder length black wig that she fixed firmly on his head and combed out carefully, “to really finish off the look nicely,” she said. “And now, Bobby dear, your lovely dress”, she said with a sigh.

Bobby cringed as she held up the elaborate dress for inspection, its layers of silk and taffeta seeming to rustle mockingly at him. As he stepped into it, Petra moved to zip it up.

“Deep breath in,” she commanded, and as she zipped it up and secured the fastening at the top it seemed to him to remove the last vestiges of his manhood. Petra fussed around him, making numerous minor adjustments to the many layers of petticoats, “Hmm, a little tight but we’ll get away with that,” she mused, then she kissed him lightly on the cheek.

“You look lovely, Bobby, I knew you would. Come and look at yourself in the mirror.” Bobby was astonished as, when he started to move, the layers of taffeta petticoats seemed to take on a life of their own, rustling and swishing around his nylon-clad legs in a preciously dancing froufrou that he couldn’t control.

As he looked in the mirror he was astonished, what had she done to him? The first tears of humiliation appeared in the corner of his eyes. Petra, however insisted that “there’s no time to stand there admiring yourself”, and soon had him practising a ladylike walk in his masses of petticoats, and, to his chagrin, practising controlling them as he executed a deep curtsy, “Because that’s how I want you to greet your colleagues this evening,” she said tartly.

The very thought of meeting the other minxes from the office in this dress brought new tears to his eyes, “No, please Petra, I’ll do anything, but please don’t let everyone see me like this.”

Petra was unmoved. She laughed, “You’re absolutely right Bobby, you will do anything I want, and at the moment that means being a pretty little miss in a party frock for the evening. I suppose it’s time to tell you, just so that you’re not too surprised when I tell the girls later on, you’ll be moving in here as my lodger next week, and then you certainly will do everything I want. We’ll call you a lodger, because I’m sure you’d prefer that, but really, of course you’ll be my live-in maid. You will be suitably rewarded of course, but if you don’t come up to standard you may find some punishments waiting for you too.” Bobby stood open-mouthed at this latest development, but any resistance had been completely crushed. How could he possibly argue whilst standing in front of her in a mass of satin, silk and taffeta?

At that moment the door-bell rang – it seemed to Bobby like a death-knell. He tried one more time. “Please, Petra…” he begged. His mistress smiled wickedly and just pointed imperiously, “The door Bobby”, she said severely, “they’ll be so pleased to see you’re really one of the girls!”