For many years my husband and I have read and enjoyed the letters published in PDQ and I thought that I would write about our unique lifestyle. I have to say right from the beginning that Martin is straight - he does not want to be a woman and he does not feel anything towards men at all and our lifestyle is what we both want there is no enforcement against anyone's will, he is not kept in enforced chastity and we are both faithful to each other.
I married Martin when he was just 16 years old and had just left school and started working in our office as a junior, which was just about thirty years ago and we have both been blissfully happy ever since. Since I am 12 years older than him and he was under 18, I had to see his mother, Mary to get permission for us to marry. From the time we first met, Mary and I have always been great friends and she was only too pleased to give her permission particularly as she was in a relationship with someone a little older than Martin, she wanted him to move in with her and she was hoping that Martin would find a place of his own and move out as she would have been embarrassed with them being so close in age under the same roof.
I was the girl in the office that all the young bucks fancied, but I was seen as far too bossy and stand offish. I have to admit I am rather dominant and I recognized very quickly after he started work that Martin was really quite subservient. Within two weeks of him starting he had moved into my house and was living in the small bedroom and ensuite in my converted attic and roughly a month after that we were married by special license. During those first two weeks Martin had revealed to me that he was a transvestite and loved to do housework - I couldn't believe my luck, here was a boy who liked to be bossed around and enjoyed doing all those tasks which I found mind numbingly boring! All he needed was to do this dressed as a maid.
I encouraged him to dress up in all his finery when we got home from work and then he would do all the cleaning and cooking. At weekends he stayed in his little French maid's uniform the whole time; washing and ironing, cooking and cleaning and waiting on me hand and foot without even being asked. I loved it! I have to say that he was always immaculately dressed and after I had shown him how to apply makeup properly - and sparingly, he did look surprisingly feminine. The only thing that bothered me was the length of time that he spent fussing over his uniform, it took him hours.
It was a typical French maid's uniform: short black satin dress with white collar and cuffs, huge amounts of petticoats, white frilly knickers, black suspenders, seamed black stockings (which took him an age to get straight), and sky high stilettos. He also wore a decent black bra with an expensive pair of silicone breasts. I went into town and bought him two polyester work dresses; a grey one and a black and white waitress one from Alexandra's. I also bought him a plain white full slip, packs of plain black, white and pink full bottomed nylon briefs, three white waitresses' aprons, two striped ones, two little waitress caps, five pairs of tan tights, five pairs of black tights and a pair of flat black shoes.
I asked him to change right there and then, he went to go to his room but I said I wanted him to change in front of me which he did. I have never seen anyone so pleased to be given such ordinary working clothes, I honestly thought he was going to ejaculate on the spot he was so excited! I informed him that I wanted him in the grey in the mornings with flat shoes and a striped apron up until two o'clock and then to change into the black and white for the afternoon and evening with his heels. I wanted tights not stockings to be worn tan with the grey and black in the afternoon. I let him keep his bra and told him that he must wear the pants I gave him all the time from then on.
I went to his room that night and we made passionate love and he was hooked. That night he also told me that he liked to be punished - that is corporal punishment spanking etc. and he showed me a stack of magazines he had, mostly back numbers of Madame Magazine which I took and read all the relevant articles. After my research I came to the conclusion that firstly punishment should be just that, something to be avoided, to teach a lesson and properly earned. We discussed the various possibilities and decided to adopt a demerit system. He would receive a demerit for each fault and when he had reached 30, he would receive one stroke for each demerit on the Friday of that week, which meant that there could be almost another week in which demerits could be earned.
It was decided that I would keep a demerit book but that he would not know when, how many or for what he had earned them until after the punishment had been delivered and then he would need to copy out all the reasons from my book to his so as to try to learn how not to make the same mistakes again. He readily agreed to this and was in his element. He managed to rack up the whole 30 demerits by the first Friday and he was duly told to go to his room take off his tights pants and shoes and wait for me to join him.
I had got him to sew together some upholsterer's webbing to form four strong loops which were simply looped through themselves onto the four corners of the bed and each threaded through a short piece of iron pipe he put his hands and feet through each of the loops and the pipe was slid down which acted as a lock and held him firmly spread-eagled on the bed. I had a long handled bath brush and administered all 30 of the strokes as hard as I could he cried and begged almost from the beginning but he had insisted that there was to be no safe words and that no mercy should be shown. His backside was black and blue and I left him for an hour unable to rub his poor bottom, by the time I had returned he had spent himself over his pillow which had been used to raise his bottom.
I can definitely say this worked, he was far more careful and it was a full six weeks before he had earned another of these dreadful punishments and he was trembling when I told him to prepare. I handed him a condom to put on so that we didn't have any more accidents. I had also purchased a heavy leather two tailed tawse which I wanted to see the effects of.
We both decided that he should have a feminine name and we thought through some of the options, I suppose that Martina was the most obvious but I told him that it reminded me of his masculine self so we settled on Abigail, firstly because it would give him the same initials as me and secondly it can only be shortened to Abi and so that was agreed.
Helga I have gone on for long enough but I can write more about our lifestyle if you would like me to, particularly about our honeymoon and all the other holidays we have had since.
Thank you so much for writing about your most successful marriage and for being a regular reader. I would also love to read more and thank you for your offer. I must say the honeymoon does sound intriguing.