The Writer's Secret

The Writer's Secret

by Ann Michelle

(http://annemichellesworld.blogspot.com/)

Synopsis: Loren had no idea what he was getting into when his agent suggested he write transvestite fiction. Nor did he realize how eagerly his wife Stephanie would embrace the idea of feminizing her husband. How far would they go?

Chapter 7: Laura Buys Shoes. . . Lots of Shoes

     

      Loren rolled out of bed the following morning.  He yawned.  Despite having sex with his wife three time the prior night, he felt like he could immediately go again.  He still wore the pink teddy she'd made him wear and the stockings.  He'd worn her pink heels too, but they fell off his feet somewhere during the night.

     

      "I really can't believe we did that last night," he said.

     

      "It was great," she purred.

     

      "I mean the party."

     

      "That was great too.  We should do it again.  I'm getting all kinds of ideas for things we could try next time."

     

      Loren shook his head.  "No way, I'm out of the crossdresser business as of this morning."

     

      She chuckled.  "I doubt it."

     

      "No, I'm serious."

     

      She sat up.  "We've barely cracked the book!"

     

      "Doesn't matter."

     

      "Oh yes it does, I say when this ends and until we finish the book, I'm not giving up my tape."

     

      Now Loren laughed.  "Ha!  I've been thinking about this and that tape doesn't matter.  I'll just tell people I was doing an experiment for a new book about a crossdresser serial killer, like in Dressed to Kill."

     

      "You think so?"

     

      "I know so," he said sitting on the bed as he pulled his stockings off his legs.

     

      "How are you going to explain the party?"

     

      "What about it?"

     

      She rose to her knees behind him and wrapped her arms around his back.  "How are you going to explain wearing women's underwear and women's heels at a party where we invited two other married couples to join us?  No one will buy that as research.  They'll see it for what it was, you getting a kick out of trying to pull this off beneath their noses."

     

      "Who's going to tell them?"

     

      "I would!"

     

      "You wouldn't?"

     

      "Uh, hello?!  I'm already blackmailing you with a video, why do you think I wouldn't throw that in?" she said.  Her tone was somewhat playful but with enough seriousness that Loren knew she meant to get her way.

     

      "They won't believe you."

     

      "I wouldn't be so sure.  I saw the way Jane and Kathleen looked at you.  You yourself said Kathleen saw your heels.  And we know she saw your nails and smelled your perfume.  I think I saw both notice your bra straps--"

     

      "Bra straps?!  But the sweater--"

     

      ". . . was too tight.  I saw your bra straps whenever you bent forward."

     

      Loren's jaw dropped and he covered his mouth with his hands.

     

      "Of course, I could be wrong.  But since I won't be protecting you and trying to convince them they didn't see what they think they saw and instead I'll be the one pointing these things out, I suspect they'll believe me."

     

      Loren stared at his red toenails for some time.  "You rotten blackmailer."

     

      She smiled.  Then she hugged him tighter.  "Oh, come on.  Don't even try to tell me you didn't love it?!  And don't tell me you don't want to keep going?  There is so much fun we can have with this."

     

      Loren looked down at the teddy he wore.  He looked at his pounding erection.  He felt his horny wife holding him tightly.  Maybe, he thought, maybe just a little while longer.  "All right, but this needs to end soon."

     

      She kissed his ear and slipped her hand down around his penis.

     

      "What do you want me to do?" he asked.

     

      --0--

     

      Stephanie pulled up outside the shoe store and turned off the engine.  She had picked a store in an aging strip mall off the beaten path for Loren's first trip outside the house in women's clothes.  That way they were unlikely to run into anyone they knew and the store wouldn't be very busy, especially on a Monday morning.  Fewer people was better to get Loren's confidence up.

     

      "I don't know about this," Loren said as he shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat.

     

      "You'll do fine.  No one will ever suspect."

     

      Loren looked himself up and down.  He wasn't so sure.  He wore the same reddish-pink sweater he wore the night before, only Stephanie had padded his breasts to give him somewhere between an A and a B cup.  His fingernails and toenails were now soft pink.  He wore lipstick, blush, eye shadow and foundation, but all done very lightly.  "Garish is a dead giveaway," Stephanie had warned him.  She had also further plucked his eyebrows and added more obvious curl to his frizzy hair.  He also wore the black pants Stephanie had bought for him and nude pantyhose.  When he asked why he wasn't wearing a skirt, she replied, "For one thing, women don't always run around in skirts, and no one is going to think a crossdresser would wear pants.  For another, we can't hide your constant erections in skirts.  Also, we need to see how the shoes fit with the pants.  Fitting skirts is easy, fitting heels to pants is a lot harder if you aren't wearing the pants."  Finally, on his feet, he wore the same basic black pumps Stephanie slipped him under the table at the party.

     

      "Why do I need to buy women's shoes again?"

     

      "Because I said so," she said as she dug through her purse.

     

      "I mean, why can't I just wear yours?"

     

      Stephanie could hear the nervousness in his voice.  "Because your feet are just a bit too big for my shoes.  It's bad for your feet and it's bad for my shoes."  She closed her purse.  "Come on, sissy."  She exited the car.

     

      Loren's hand shook as he reach for the door handle.  He didn't want to leave the car, but she had given him no choice.  He also knew that if he didn't act calmly, he would be discovered.  It was time to summon every ounce of courage he had.  Laura was going public.

     

      Stephanie moved ahead of Loren toward the store.  Loren was slowed by the sensations.  He felt naked in the thin clothing.  He felt exposed in the sunlight and the outside air.  He heard the unfamiliar sound of his own heels tapping against the asphalt.  And he felt the now familiar combination of terror and excitement at the prospect of being discovered.  He tried to blank out everything except Stephanie and he followed her though the door.

     

      Loren looked around.  He'd been in many shoe stores, but never quite like this.  For the first time, he consciously contemplated being in a women's shoe store with the intent of buying shoes.  He saw rows of shoes and could smell the leather.  He noticed purses and knickknacks and hats and other things he never noticed before in shoe stores.  He also noticed no one had spotted him yet.  Over his shoulder, two girls stood behind the counter chatting with each other.  They barely noticed him.  There were no other customers.

     

      Stephanie marched Loren to the dress shoes and gave him the grand tour.  She explained to him the difference between wedge heels, sandals, pumps, slingbacks, mules and slides and all their pros and cons.  She kept choosing two shoes at random and asking him, "which do you like better?" and then quizzing him why he chose what he did.  As they worked their way through the shelves, the blond girl from the counter came over to them.  She wore a simple, red A-line dress and matching open-toed pumps with a three-inch wedge heel.  She moved gracefully on the heels.

     

      "Can I help you find something?" the girl asked.

     

      "Yes, we're looking for some heels," said Stephanie.  "I need a variety of four-inch hee--"  She stopped mid-sentence, then she leaned in closer to the girl and whispered:  "My new boss loves really high heels and I want to make a good impression, so I need something in the four and four-plus inch range.  You know how men are?"

     

      The girl nodded.

     

      Stephanie continued.  "And my sister here needs a whole closet of shoes!  She just had a flood and lost everything."

     

      "I've got just the thing for your boss," the girl said holding up a finger to tell Stephanie to wait a moment.  She sauntered off to the back before returning with several boxes.  The girl opened the first box.  These contained basic black pumps with four-inch heels.  The next were slingbacks with a wide open toe and then slingbacks with a peep toe.  There were also basic black pumps with a five-inch heel.  "I've got each of these in various colors too.  Why don't you try them on while I get your sister started."

     

      Loren breathed a sigh of relief.  The girl didn't seem to notice he was a man.

     

      "Did you have anything in mind?" she asked Loren.

     

      "Not really," Loren said softly.  Stephanie had warned him that trying to sound like a woman would come across as suspicious, so she told him just to speak softly.

     

      "Flats?  Pumps?  Sandals?  Sneakers?" the girl asked.

     

      "Why don't you look at some sandals for the party, Laura," Stephanie said.  "Maybe something in silver.  Then a variety of pumps in black."

     

      The girl looked curiously at Stephanie and then at Loren and then shrugged her shoulders.  She walked backwards to another section, indicating Loren should follow her.  "What size?" she asked.

     

      Loren shook his head.  "It's been a long time since I measured."

     

      The girl stopped to measure his foot.  "Are you and your sister close?"

     

      "Oh yes, we've always been close."

     

      "That's nice.  I have a sister, but we're not close."  She set the measuring device aside and indicated Loren could slide his foot back into his shoe and follow her.  He did, and she led him to a selection of sandals.  "We have these in a variety of heel heights, but I take it your sister wants you wearing really high heels?"

     

      Loren sensed a hint of haughtiness in the question, but it could have been his imagination.  He nodded.

     

      The girl picked up the first pair.  "These have a straight five-inch heel.  I also have these with a one-inch platform or some with a two-inch platform, which makes the heels six inches."

     

      Loren bit his lip.  This wasn't going to be as easy as he thought owing to the number of choices.  "I'd like to avoid anything five inches.  Do you have anything in the three to four-inch range?"

     

      "Sure."  The girl stepped a few feet to the left.  "Here are some similar shoes in the three to four-inch range.  Some have platforms, some don't.  Why don't you look around and I'll go help your sister."

     

      Loren watched the girl walk over toward the counter, where he couldn't help but notice she and the other girl started giggling and the blond girl held her wrist limp.  Had she read him?  Loren felt sick.  It was one thing to be spotted, it would be quite another to be spotted by this girl, who seemed cruel.

     

      As he pondered this, Stephanie came over wearing black slingbacks.  "I like these!  Who knew Candi could have good taste.  What do you think, dear?"  She turned her foot for him to see.  They had a four-and-three-quarter-inch heel, but a half-inch of that was platform.

     

      "I think the blond knows," he said.

     

      Stephanie looked over her shoulder at the giggling girl.  "Doubt it."

     

      Loren shivered.

     

      "But she will get suspicious if you don't start trying on shoes."

     

      Loren looked at the rack.  "What should I get?"

     

      Stephanie looked at the shoes.  "Try these," she said picking up a pair of open-toed black pumps and a pair of black slingbacks.  "Make sure they all have at least four-inch heels.  You're welcome to go higher, but I wouldn't advise it.  Also, get some neutral pumps, maybe some oxfords, and some pink and white wedges."

     

      "That's a lot of shoes?"

     

      "Yep, but a girl needs her shoes.  Also, after you get all that, surprise me.  Get something a little sexy or edgy."

     

      "Surprise you?!"

     

      "Yeah, and make sure it's a good surprise, or I'll drag you back here to get something better. . . only, you'll be dressed like Loren when we come," she said with a wink.

     

      "That's not funny!"

     

      She shrugged her shoulders.  "Who's joking?"

     

      Again, Loren couldn't tell if she was serious or not.  This seemed to be her new way of threatening him without really threatening.  "Four-inch heels on everything?"

     

      "At least four-inch, that's the deal."

     

      "And you don't want to tell me what I should buy?"

     

      Stephanie put one hand on her hip and waved the other around.  "I think you're a big girl now, Laura.  It's time to make your own decisions.  Just make sure I like what you choose."  She walked back over to where she had been trying on the shoes.  As she did, the blond girl returned.

     

      "You like those?" she asked Loren.

     

      "Uh. . . yeah."

     

      The girl smiled.  "You should probably walk around in them."

     

      "What?  Oh, yes."  Loren began walking toward a mirror so he could see the black open-toed pumps he wore.  They fit, and the sight in the mirror of his painted toenails sticking out the front of the shoes made him hard.  "These are nice."

     

      "Ok, keep looking," said the girl and she went to Stephanie.  As the girl drifted toward Stephanie, Loren added a pair of black slingbacks, a pair of white slingbacks, a pair of open-toed beige slingbacks, and a pair of pink and white sandals with a wedge heel made of cork.  He tried on each pair and they all fit.  He began looking for a pair of black loafers.  By the time the girl returned, he had amassed a large collection of boxes.

     

      "Finding anything?" she asked.

     

      "Yes, I think I'll take these."

     

      The girl flipped through the collection and smiled.

     

      "I need one more thing," Loren said.  "I need something really special."

     

      "For what occasion?"

     

      Loren tried to think of what a girl would consider a special occasion.  "Uh. . . my husband is coming home from a long trip."  It sounded very awkward.

     

      The girl smirked.  "Uh huh."

     

      "No, really," he said defensively.

     

      The girl raised an eyebrow.  Whatever she thought was really going on, Loren was now giving her more reason to suspect it.  She smiled strangely.  "Ok, I know what you need."  She walked him over to a different section where he saw what Stephanie called "hooker shoes."  She stopped and picked up a pair of cherry-red mules with a wide open toe and a five-inch heel with no platform.  "These will work," she said flatly.

     

      His face turned red.

     

      "You should try them on," she said coldly.

     

      "That's ok."

     

      "No, try them on," she said firmly and handed them to Loren.

     

      Loren's heart raced.  Why was she suddenly so demanding?  Did she know or was he being overly sensitive?  He wasn't sure, but she scared him and he didn't want to cross her.  He set the mules down and slid his feet out of the heels he already wore.  He stepped into the mules.  He immediately noticed they weren't very comfortable and balancing was difficult.  Indeed, he almost fell at first, but the girl grabbed his arm and steadied him.

     

      "You should go one size smaller in these," she said.  "They'll look better."  Loren wasn't going to argue, but she didn't wait for his approval in any event.  She handed him the smaller size and he slid into them.  "Now walk over to the mirror and back so I can see."

     

      Loren did as he was told.  This was the first time he wore mules and it took some adjustment as the shoes didn't move with his feet when he walked.  Instead, he had to force them against his soles with his toes as he walked to make them leave the ground.  But he was a quick learner and he was able to pass the blond girl's inspection.  He went to slide his foot out of the shoes, but the girl stopped him.

     

      "No, you should wear them to get used to them."

     

      "That's ok."

     

      The girl ignored him.  "Go walk to the front of the store and then come back to me," she said coldly.

     

      Loren looked at her.  This was clearly a demand, and there was something about the condescension in her eyes which spoke of cruelty, so he knew instinctively she was not someone he should cross.  Indeed, he had begun to fear her, though he didn't quite know why.  He looked over the girl's shoulder, hoping Stephanie would rescue him, but she was across the store.  With no choice left, he did as she instructed and walked to the front of the store, right by the other girl behind the counter.  She smiled at him.  Then he turned and went back to the blond.  She sat down on one of the benches just before he returned.  She crossed her legs and let her shoe dangle.

     

      "Ok," he said, hoping to finish the sentence with, "that's all I need."  But the girl interrupted him.  She pointed toward two pair of Mary Janes.

     

      "You need those too."

     

      Loren looked where she pointed.  Both were Mary Janes with four-inch heels.  One pair had the classic t-strap and the other just had a single strap across the arch.  Both were a sort of dark burgundy-red, with the t-strap shoes being more red and the single-strap shoes being more brown.  "I think--"

     

      "Try them on," she insisted.

     

      Loren took a deep breath.  He looked for help from Stephanie, but she was still across the store.  It was just him versus this girl and she intimidated him.  He sat down on the opposite bench and strapped on the first pair.  As Loren modeled both pair for her, the girl grabbed two more pair of shoes and added those to the set of boxes without permission.  Loren wasn't even sure what was in them, but he wasn't going to say anything.

     

      At this point, Stephanie came over with three boxes.  She saw the collection Loren had built up and laughed.  "When I said surprise me, Laura, I didn't think you'd buy the whole store!"

     

      Loren looked helplessly at the two women as they laughed at him.  The blond girl's laugh seemed malicious.

     

      Stephanie grabbed her own boxes and they made their way to the counter.  Once there, Stephanie paid for the shoes with her credit card.  It was expensive and she joked it would come out of Loren's pay – she told the two girls "Laura" worked as a maid – but she never suggested returning anything.  She even picked up a purse for Loren, a simple black leather purse about the size a phonebook with a short double strap.

     

      As Stephanie paid, Loren found it hard to meet the blond girl's gaze.  He was sure she knew, though she never said anything specific.  But he could hear it in her accusing tone and in the way her attitude changed from helpful to commanding.  Also, as he slid into the passenger seat of the car, he could swear he saw the two girls double over with laughter inside the store.

     

      He wanted to go home and cry.  But they weren't done shopping.

Chapter 8: The Uniform Shop

     

      Loren moped as Stephanie drove them to another part of town.  "The blond girl spotted me," he said tersely.

     

      "Good for her, I hope it made her day," Stephanie responded indifferently.

     

      "What?!"

     

      "Oh, come on dear, you had your fun, let the girl have hers."

     

      "That was not fun!"

     

      "Of course it was, and you enjoyed it."

     

      "I did not," he insisted.

     

      She reached over and squeezed his erection through his pants.  "Apparently, you did."  She let go of his erection.  "Let's be honest, Loren.  You got to do a little shopping and you got to flirt with a sexy young blond girl in the process.  You loved it, and you've got the raging hard-on to prove it.  And in exchange for your fun, she gets to go home and tell her boyfriend all about the sissy she served today.  That's a fair trade."

     

      "That's not funny."

     

      Stephanie laughed.  "Sure it is, you just have to step back a bit to see the humor in it.  You might even have planted an idea in her head. . . opened her eyes."

     

      "What idea?"

     

      "Think about it.  When she goes home tonight, she may decide her boyfriend would look better in heels, just like you do."

     

      "What?!"

     

      "Oh come on, dear!  We're both thinking it.  You're a sexier sissy than you were a man."

     

      Loren scowled.  "I am most definitely not thinking that!"

     

      "Well, you should," she said and patted his erection condescendingly.

     

      "You better be teasing," he growled.

     

      She changed the topic.  "I can't help but notice, by the way, that you went way overboard on shoes.  I guess you're a shoe-girl.  Is that it?  Have you got a thing for shoes?" she asked dryly.

     

      Loren rolled his eyes.  "She made me buy these because she knew I was a man.  It was blackmail."

     

      Stephanie raised an eyebrow.  "Was it really?"

     

      "Yes."

     

      "And what exactly did she threaten?"

     

      "What do you mean?"

     

      "Did she say, 'hey sissy, I'm going to go tell your wife right over there that you're wearing her clothes if you don't buy more shoes?'  Was that it?"

     

      Loren frowned.  "No."

     

      "Maybe she threatened to tell your boss?"

     

      "Of course not, I don't have a boss."

     

      "So she didn't threaten to tell your wife or your boss.  What exactly did she threaten?"

     

      "It wasn't specific," he said quietly.

     

      "Did she even make a single threat?"

     

      Loren folded his arms beneath the fake breasts and didn't answer.

     

      "Uh, huh," she said.  "So she blackmailed you by saying nothing?"  Stephanie laughed.  "Face it dear, you made the decision to buy more shoes all by yourself, and you're just using her as an excuse.  Frankly, I'm dying to see what you bought.  We'll need to do a little fashion show when we get home."

     

      Loren bit his lip.  Was this all going too far?  The store scared him more than excited him.  Had the girl really spotted him or was that just his imagination?  And if she had spotted him, how had she spotted him?  Was he not as convincing as he believed?  One thing was for sure, he didn't like the feeling of being helpless before someone who was much more malicious than Stephanie.  It was one thing to be teased, it was another to be bullied and he felt the girl was a bully.  It bothered him that Stephanie didn't care and he began to worry how far she intended to take this?  It's not that he didn't enjoy it, but he enjoyed this as a game, not a lifestyle.

     

      --0--

     

      Stephanie stopped the car before a costume and uniform shop.  They were at another strip mall several miles from their home.

     

      "Why are we here?" Loren asked.

     

      "We need some stuff?" Stephanie responded.

     

      "What kind of stuff?"

     

      "Stuff stuff."  She handed Loren the black purse she'd bought at the shoe store.

     

      "What's this?"

     

      "It's a purse."

     

      "I don't want a purse."

     

      "Every woman has a purse."

     

      "But I'm not a woman."

     

      Stephanie laughed.  "You sure look like one."

     

      "What do I put in it?"

     

      "Makeup, your wallet, other useful items."

     

      "I don't have any of that with me."

     

      "I know, I just want you to get used to carrying it.  We'll get you stuff to put in it later."  She reached behind the seat and pulled one of the shoe boxes from the bags they'd placed in the backseat.  "Change into these."

     

      "Why?"

     

      "Because I said so."  She stepped out of the car.

     

      Loren took a deep breath and opened the box.  These were the four-inch black open-toed pumps.  He groaned.  These were two inches higher than what he wore, plus they had the open toe.  These were attention-grabbers.  That bothered him because so far their entire strategy to help him pass had been to make sure he wasn't too noticeable.  Hence, the subtle makeup, the bland mid-heeled shoes, and the non-descript pants.  These shoes threw that out the window.  But again, Stephanie left him no choice and she was already walking toward the store, so he slid these on and stepped out of the car.

     

      --0--

     

      Unlike the shoe store, the costume/uniform shop wasn't carpeted.  Thus, Loren's heels echoed loudly throughout the store.  When he walked in, a middle-aged Hispanic woman greeted him.  A younger Hispanic woman, possibly her daughter, worked at the back of the store sewing custom orders.  The older woman seemed nice, though Loren noticed she watched them suspiciously.

     

      Stephanie moved along the wall as Loren followed.  The shop was about forty feet wide and more than a hundred deep.  The center of the store was filled with work uniforms of all sorts on circular racks and the walls were lined with costumes and more decorative uniforms hanging from individual racks which stuck straight out from the walls.  Stephanie held out a large princess dress from a wall rack.  "How would you like to be a fairy princess?"

     

      Loren rolled his eyes.

     

      She laughed.  "All girls want to be princesses at some point, dear.  I'm just offering you the chance.  All we'd have to do is find you a nice ball."  She moved on.  "Look, cheerleader uniforms!  You'd make a sexy cheerleader!"

     

      Just then, the Hispanic woman appeared behind them.  She wore a ruffled purple blouse, a white pleated skirt that stopped just below her knees, and white slides with a minor wedge heel.  "Can I help you?" she asked with a heavy accent.  English clearly had not been her first language.

     

      Stephanie smiled.  "Yes.  My husband needs some uniforms," she said flatly, nodding at Loren.

     

      A quizzical look appeared on the woman's face, which slowly grew into a sneaky smile as she realized Stephanie meant Loren.

     

      It took Loren about the same amount of time to realize his wife had just told the woman he was her husband.  "Stephanie!" he squealed.

     

      She placed her hand on Loren's shoulder.  "Oh, calm down, honey."

     

      He pushed her hand away.  "How could you?!"

     

      Stephanie ignored him and looked at the woman.  "I'm sorry.  My husband is a little nervous.  He doesn't like people knowing."

     

      The woman laughed.  She looked Loren up and down several times.  "I can understand why."  Then she called out something in a foreign language to her daughter, who walked to the end of the aisle and looked toward Loren and Stephanie.  She snickered.  The woman looked Loren in the face, which was turning bright red.  "It's ok, I've dealt with sissies before.  You look good for a sissy though.  Most don't."

     

      "Be polite dear and thank the nice lady," Stephanie said.  She was thoroughly enjoying Loren's humiliation.  In fact, it was turning her on something fierce.

     

      Loren's jaw dropped.  "I. . . uh. . . what?"  Loren remained stunned.

     

      "Why is he dressed like a woman?" the woman asked.

     

      "You'd have to ask him," Stephanie said with a slight whisper, implying this was a secret.

     

      The woman nodded.  "Do you like being a woman?" she asked Loren directly.

     

      He glared at Stephanie.  "No.  I lost a bet."

     

      "You made a bet with your wife?"

     

      "Yes, I made a bet with my wife."

     

      "And you told her she could turn you into a woman if you lost?"

     

      "Something like that.  It was her idea," he said somewhat annoyed.

     

      "Oh, is that what it is now?" Stephanie said and rolled her eyes causing the woman to laugh.

     

      "No man would make that kind of bet unless he wanted to lose," the woman said dismissively.

     

      "I didn't plan to lose.  I don't want to dress like this."

     

      She laughed.  "If my husband didn't want to wear a dress, then he wouldn't.  You claim you don't want to, but you are.  So you do."

     

      "No, I really don't.  My wife just tricked me."

     

      "You don't sound very bright.  You should know women are always smarter than men.  And once a woman has you, you're trapped.  She owns you now.  You're her slave."

     

      "It's funny you should say that," Stephanie said.  "My husband needs several maid uniforms."

     

      The woman scoffed at Loren.  "See.  I told you.  You might as well forget ever being a man again. . . you're just a sissy toy now for your wife."  She turned and walked toward an entire aisle of maid uniforms, everything from very basic hotel staff to highly elaborate costume uniforms.  "What size is your husband?"

     

      Stephanie looked at Loren.  "I'm not sure."

     

      The woman looked him up and down and then called out to the young woman.  The young woman grabbed a notepad and the woman went to get a tape measure.

     

      "What are you doing?!" Loren demanded when the woman stepped away.

     

      "Oh behave, dear.  The worst that can happen is your ego gets bruised.  Just be a good little girl and suck it up."

     

      "That is not the worst that can happen!  She could tell everyone!"

     

      "Tell who exactly?"

     

      Loren looked around.  He had no answer.

     

      Stephanie continued.  "Besides, did you really think you could fool her?  She'll need to take your measurements.  What do you think would have happened the moment she sees your erection?"  Both looked down at the obvious lump straining at his pants despite their best efforts to wrap it tightly.  "If you'd come in here pretending to be a girl, she probably would have called the cops on the pervert.  Instead, now she's just going to tease the sissy."

     

      Loren bit his lips.  "I hadn't thought about that."

     

      "No, you didn't, because your male ego is so damn fragile."

     

      The woman found the tape measure and started back toward Loren and Stephanie with her daughter at her side.  Stephanie moved in closer and aggressively whispered:  "And another thing, Laura.  For a man who claims to hate this and want no part of it, your dick has been hard as a rock for a week.  So don't tell me you aren't enjoying this, and don't you dare throw another tantrum or I'll tell everyone about my sissy husband and his massive erections."

     

      "Please don't!" he begged.

     

      "Then you better get with the program.  It's time you started playing the shamed, submissive sissy. . . got it?!  Key word is submissive."

     

      He bit his lip and nodded.

     

      "Ok, we need some measurements," the woman said.  She started to bend down but stopped.  "Why don't we do this in the fitting room?"  This sounded good to Loren as he assumed "the fitting room" would be an isolated, hidden room somewhere.  It wasn't.

     

      As they walked toward the back of the store, the woman and her daughter giggled.  Each giggle caused Loren's penis to throb.  Stephanie likewise couldn't have been more excited, and seeing her husband humiliated by these two women was proving to be an incredible turn on.  She honestly never expected this level of excitement.

     

      "You walk really gracefully in heels," the daughter said without an accent.

     

      Loren remained silent.

     

      "Thank the young lady, dear."

     

      Loren cringed.

     

      "Don't make me get upset, dear," Stephanie said.

     

      Loren shivered.  He stopped and turned to face the young girl who was about his size.  She was in her early twenties and wore blue jeans, black flats and a bright yellow blouse.  "Thank you."

     

      "Most of the girls at school aren't as graceful and you're wearing some serious heels there."

     

      "They're four inches," Stephanie said.  "Laura wanted higher heels, but I refused.  I want her to prove she can handle four inches all day before I let her go to five."

     

      The woman and her daughter both burst out laughing.  The older woman pointed her finger at Loren.  "Your wife has your balls in her purse and you aren't getting them back."

     

      They continued toward the back, where they came to an area where a raised platform stood.  It was surrounded on three sides by mirrors.  Loren was told to step onto the platform, which he did.  To his horror, he could see the entire store clearly from the platform, and that meant that if anyone came into the store now, they would see him and his infinite reflections.  He wanted to scream.

     

      "Remove your pants," the woman said.

     

      "Are you kidding?"

     

      "Do as you're told," Stephanie ordered.

     

      "You better listen to your wife," the woman said with a chuckle.  "She might toss her purse away and get a new one, and then your balls are gone forever."  She was clearly enjoying picking on Loren.

     

      Loren reluctantly did as he was told.  He unzipped the slacks and let them fall to the floor.  As he stepped out of them, the daughter whisked his pants away.  The woman immediately burst into laughter at the sight of his erect penis beneath the panties.

     

      "That's not very ladylike!" the woman said.  "One thing is for sure though, you like this a lot, don't you sissy?"  She said something to the daughter, who smiled and then responded.

     

      Stephanie shook her head.  "He keeps telling me he hates this, but. . .," she reached out, grabbed the head of his erection and jiggled it back and forth, ". . . but apparently he likes it."

     

      "I do not!" Loren finally said.  The strain of playing along was overcoming him.

     

      "Don't be so rude," the daughter said.  "We could have called the cops on you, you perv, but we didn't."

     

      The color instantly left Loren's face at the mention of the police.  "I'm sorry!"

     

      "You need to learn not to talk back to your wife," the woman said.  She looked at Stephanie.  "You should spank him."

     

      "He's a little old for that."

     

      "He's your maid.  You can do what you want to him."

     

      Stephanie smiled at the idea of Loren over her knee.

     

      For the next few minutes, they took his measurements.  Then, with Loren remaining on the platform, keeping one terrified eye on the front door, the two women went with Stephanie to get a variety of maid uniforms.  The first was a relatively conservative black uniform with a knee-length skirt and a white cap.  The effect was servile, if not erotic, though the high heels made him much sexier than the uniform otherwise would have been.

     

      "It's hard to tell how it will fit," said the woman.  "His thing is standing up and making it hard to see how the skirt will look."  She pointed at Loren's erection.  At this, the daughter said something in Spanish and the mother nodded her head.  "We're going to fix that for you."

     

      The daughter went to another part of the store and returned with both a corset and a matching pantygirdle.  "These are shape makers.  They hold everything in place.  The two together should give your husband a very feminine shape."  She handed them to Loren, who looked to step off the platform.

     

      "No, no, just change right here," Stephanie said.

     

      Loren's face turned even redder.  Soon he stood on the platform, naked except for a padded bra and high heels.  His erection stood out ram-rod straight for all the world to see.  Stephanie didn't recall ever seeing it so large.  But its moment in the sun ended soon enough as Loren yanked the ultra-tight pantygirdle up his legs.  He stuffed his penis into the girdle and it effectively vanished.  It was highly uncomfortable.  Then the daughter tied the corset around his waist and yanked that in considerably.  This was even more uncomfortable, but the effect was amazing.  He actually had feminine curves and a smooth front.

     

      "Wonderful!  Now he can wear skirts in public!" Stephanie exclaimed.

     

      "You should keep him in skirts all the time," the woman said.

     

      "I'm thinking about it!" Stephanie responded happily.

     

      When they added the uniform, the change was dramatic.  And after several more uniforms, Stephanie settled on three.  She openly debated making him wear one of them home, but relented after sufficient pleading.  But she wasn't finished.

     

      "I want to thank you and your daughter for your patience, and I'm very embarrassed Laura has been so rude to you, and especially your daughter.  We're going to a costume party in about a week and Laura will need a costume."  She looked at the daughter.  "Since Laura has been so rotten to you, why don't I let you pick out the most humiliating costume you have.  That way she can think about how she treated you during the party as everyone laughs at her."

     

      The girl giggled.  "Anything?"

     

      "Anything."

     

      The girl left to search the aisles.  She eventually came back with three choices: a cheerleading outfit, a sexy policewoman's uniform, and a school girl uniform with a plaid skirt.  Each was worse than the last, but the school girl uniform was the worst, especially with the heels.  "This is the one for Laura," said the daughter.

     

      "Good choice!" Stephanie said.  "Thank the young lady, dear."

     

      "Thanks," he said.

     

      "Sincerely."

     

      "Thank you," he said in a more sincere tone, though still not sufficiently submissive for Stephanie's taste.

     

      "One more try, dear.  And if you aren't sufficiently grateful, you're going to wear this plaid skirt as I march you from one end of the mall to the other."

     

      Loren swallowed hard.  He looked the girl in the eyes and almost cried.  "Thank you for picking out this costume.  I assure you, it is incredibly humiliating and I will regret how I treated you whenever I wear it.  Thank you."

     

      There was silence.  Then all three women burst out in laughter.

     

      "Ok, sissy, put your pants back on and let's go."

     

      --0--

     

      Loren was so thoroughly humiliated by the time they got to the car that he didn't speak to Stephanie for ten full minutes.  She kept chuckling.

     

      "You put on one hell of a show for those women!" she finally said.

     

      "I'm glad you're amused," he said angrily and folded his arms.

     

      "Oh, don't pout."

     

      "You got into that too much."

     

      Stephanie had to admit, she did get carried away.  She just found his humiliation erotically intoxicating.  But he was right, she had pushed things further than she should have.  "I'm sorry, dear."

     

      "You do realize that they know now, right?"

     

      Stephanie shrugged her shoulders.  "So what?  Have you ever seen them before?  Will you ever see them again?  It's no big deal."

     

      "For you maybe."

     

      She placed her hand on Loren's penis which was now trapped beneath the pantygirdle.  With nothing to grab, she pulled her hand away.  "I guess it did finally fall off, didn't it?" she said with a laugh.

     

      "Ha ha, very funny."

     

      Both of their moods brightened again.

     

      "I think, by the way, that from now on, you should wear the corset and the pantygirdle at all times," Stephanie said.

     

      "Why?"

     

      "For one thing, because that's what I want.  For another, the pantygirdle will prevent anyone from seeing your erection.  It's a lot easier to pass as a woman when you aren't sporting wood beneath your skirt or slacks.  Also, you have no choice because the clothes we just bought will only fit if you wear the corset and the pantygirdle."

     

      Loren groaned.  He didn't like the pantygirdle because it felt like it crushed his penis, but he realized he really had no choice for the reasons Stephanie had given.  He changed the topic.  "Speaking of the clothes, why did you buy all those uniforms?"

     

      "I would have thought that was obvious."

     

      "Well, it's not."

     

      "That's what happens next in the book.  Candi makes 'Brandi' into her sexy maid and he prances around the house for weeks."

     

      "Weeks?!"

     

      "Weeks," she said slyly.

     

      "I'm going to be sick."