Sometimes you don't always get what you wish for exactly.

I have been married to Thomas for two years, I work and he stays at home, an arrangement that suits us both as he is both weak and ineffectual whereas I command a salary than he could only ever dream of earning. I admit that I take more pleasure from putting him over my knee and spanking him than I do from his immature fumbling. Indeed, my physical dominance of him is far more satisfying to me than anything he can provide. In fact, if I am honest, it is the main reason I married him.

I surprised Thomas prancing around the house wearing a pale yellow frilly nightie, bought, it turns out later, from a charity shop for £1.20. Demanding to know what he was playing at he first spluttered an attempted a feeble explanation confessing that he had always felt the need to wear girly nightwear and dress in little girl outfits!

It was then that he showed me all the various sites he visited showing men wearing "little girl" party dresses with huge sashes and lots of lacy finery, usually in a shocking pink colour. He then showed me a site that had photo's of men posing deliberately wearing floaty style nighties, peignoir sets and the like. Your site, by comparison appeared to be the only sensible one where like-minded women controlled their males by exploiting their fantasies to suit their own purpose.

With plenty to think about I spanked Thomas and put him to bed, in his pyjamas. I then settled down to read all of your previous editions and found some very extraordinary but informative articles.

The next morning I confronted a sheepish looking Thomas and told him if he wanted to dress as a little girl then who was I to deny him, I explained that I had researched his fetish thoroughly and all I asked was that I should be the one to select his "little girl" outfits. To this the fool happily agreed.

Two evenings later, I ordered Thomas to undress, beside me on the sofa he could see various bags and as he undressed I could see how excited he was becoming at the prospect of being dressed as a little girl.

I motioned him toward me, "now Thomas, are you ready to become mummy's little girl?" He nodded, his face alight with expectation, it was then that I showed him the outfit I had chosen for him to wear.

"I'm not wearing that, it's not what I want at all." He protested.

I grabbed his wrist and positioned him swiftly across my lap.

"You spineless sissy!" I exclaimed as I tanned his backside with ever increasing intensity. "You will become mummy's little girl, but not quite how you imagined." Thomas was crying tearfully as I continued spanking. "Are you ready to wear your new clothes or do you want me to continue spanking?"

Thomas squealed his agreement. He stood before me sobbing as I dressed him in a vest and knickers set with a small blue floral design, a plain white, long sleeved blouse buttoned to the neck. A grey pleated skirt, a royal blue school cardigan, white knee socks and a pair of sensible, black shoes. "There we are, now you’re the perfect little girl." I teased, as I made Thomas parade in front of me. "We'll soon have you walking and talking like a real little girl, that's what you wanted isn't it?" The look on Thomas's face gave away, shall we say, his disappointment.

I sat him down with an exercise book and a pencil and told him to write me an essay entitled, "Why I will be a good little girl for mummy."

Half an hour later I stood in front of him and said, " Thomasina, you have twenty minutes to finish your essay, then it will be time for you to get ready for bed." Thomas looked up puzzled from his scribbling, "wha…. what do you mean, Thomasina, bedtime?"

I explained to him that his new little girls name was Thomasina and that little girls have bedtimes, and as he was now officially my little girl he had a bedtime too.

"Seven o'clock is your bedtime but you will prepare for bed at six every night."

"Now just a minute I…" He began to bluster,

"Do you want to go back over my knee Thomasina"? I queried. "No I suppose not," he said meekly.

"No I suppose not mummy," I prompted. Thomasina blushed but said nothing. Half an hour later I returned, "remove your uniform quickly but fold it up neatly. You will be wearing it every day all day so you need to look after it, understand Thomasina? "

"Yes mummy," came the sheepish response. Once he was naked I handed him one of the bags, "take out your new nighties," I said, I don't think they are quite what you had in mind but they are what little girls wear to bed." Thomasina was not amused as I slipped his arms and head into the long sleeved, white flannelette nightdress as it cascaded to the floor.

"This is not what I expected,” he complained as I buttoned up the Peter Pan collar on his nightie.

“How many little girls wear negligees?” I asked him. “Cosy sensible nighties are what little girls wear for bed and so that is what you will wear too!”

I prevented any further protests with the help of a baby’s dummy that I pinned to his nightie and popped into his mouth. The threat of another trip over my knee ensured it stayed in place. I had bought him a rag doll and I thrust this into his arms. “This is your dolly, Primrose,” I informed him, “ she will be your constant companion when you are ready for bed. If I see you without Primrose you will be severely punished.”

I then proceed to take a few snapshots of Thomasina who paled visibly as I outlined my plans for his life as my little girl.

His life has changed dramatically but not in the way he envisaged. My sister Agnes has moved in to supervise Thomasina's daily routine.

He occupies the small bedroom that comprises a child’s two foot six bed, a nightstand and a set of drawers that contains his girls nighties and pyjamas and also his vests and knickers. A small wardrobe house his school uniforms. Thomasina rises at 6 am, and wearing his nightclothes brings Agnes her breakfast in bed while I eat downstairs as Thomasina washes up.

Thomasina then goes upstairs to put on his little girl school uniform ensuring his blouse and cardigan are correctly buttoned before presenting himself to Agnes and myself for inspection. If we are dissatisfied with any aspect of his appearance he is awarded one de-merit. How many of these he has collected by Friday evening determines the severity of his weekend punishments.

At 8.30 Thomasina must go to school. He packs his satchel with his homework and picks up his My Little Pony lunch box and sets of for “school”.

We have build a large shed at the bottom of the garden and put in a child’s school chair and desk and also a blackboard. Agnes then becomes Miss Throgmorton, headmistress of Benson Road School for girls. Thomasina has lessons that include copying pages from the Encyclopaedia Britannica with his left hand only, reciting poetry Agnes or rather Miss Throgmorton, has made him memorise and spelling tests that carry a de-merit penalty for every misspelled word. Thomasina eats lunch in the garden weather permitting, and then spends some time playing on the garden swing we have had installed. The garden is quite secluded but Thomasina still becomes terribly nervous being outside dressed in his school uniform.

After lunch Miss Throgmorton encourages Thomasina's creative side by making him paint a picture again using only his left hand. The classroom walls are decorated with many of his drawings. Indeed I have pinned two of them entitled “Mummy” onto the kitchen wall.

School finishes at three and Thomasina has domestic duties to undertake in the house before Aunty Agnes supervises bath time. When I arrive home Thomasina will have eaten completed his school homework and be wearing either a floral winceyette nightie or teddy bear motif pyjamas. His sullen reaction to my homecoming had to spanked out of him and now he has learned to run excitedly into my arms as I enter the room. I enjoy spending ten minutes with him sitting on my lap as he tells me about his day and then aunty Agnes will say something such as, “time our little girl was tucked up in bed.”

Reluctantly, for Thomasina still detests his early bedtimes, he will kiss me goodnight and take Agnes’s hand as she takes him up to bed at 7 pm sharp.

Undoubtedly Thomas has got more than he bargained for when he revealed his secret desire to me but his life as a sweet little girl may not be exactly as he imagined but as far as I am concerned it is very satisfying indeed.