Date: Fri, 14 Nov 2008 08:16:00 -0800 (PST)
From: Fred Gingerman <gingerfred2005@yahoo.com>
Subject: Test Driven -- transgender

Test Driven
by Gingerfred Man

A Pantyboy Profile

   INTRODUCTION

   My name is Cheryl. I'm 20 years old and I'm a pantyboy.

   My best friends, Judy, Amy and Sandy, are pantyboys too. Simpering
little sissies made for the pleasure of nice men who treat us well.

   Pretty little angels with mouths and bottoms eager for cock.

   We've all been featured in our favorite magazine, Panty Boy, a
celebration of all that is sissy and wonderful in the world.

   I know it's your favorite publication too, Honey, or you wouldn't be
reading this story.

   I hope you've read "Service," where I told you all about my friend Amy
and how she got to be the object of millions of men's stroke fantasies. If
you didn't, that's OK, because this story about Judy stands alone. Just
like your cock when you read my stories. But I'm assigning "Service" to you
for homework. <giggle>

   My friends gave me the task of writing one story about each of us, then
one about our lives together as VERY popular sissies in New York.

   You'll love this story about Judy. She's so sweet and pretty. Like me,
Judy is a blonde. Her hair is long and straight, all the way to her
shoulder blades. She has the prettiest three-and-a-half inch cock in the
world and perfect erect nipples, framed by her bra-shaped tan lines.

   But she wasn't always beautiful and desirable. Like the rest of us
little cock-hungry pantyboys, Judy started life as an icky boy. Her name
was even icky -- Harold. If any of you readers named Harold are mad at me
for saying that about your name, maybe I can make it up to you. <giggle>

   Anyway, let me tell you all about Harold the Dull and how he became the
little sexpot angel Judy. Get your tissues ready because it's a very
stimulating story.


   Chapter One -- Dull

   Harold's life before his 18th birthday was very dull. Contrast that with
Judy's life, where she's being squired around the world by rich, beautiful
men who give her things -- expensive jewelry, bearer bonds, real estate,
big cocks in her tight pussy. Being Judy is way better.

   Harold Strokewood lived with his mother, his father having run off with
his secretary or someone when Harold was quite young. His mother tried
hard, but she couldn't seem to jump start Harold. He wasn't interested in
girls, boys, men, women, school, movies, video games, sports or even
recreational drugs. He had no friends to speak of and no ambition.
Mrs. Strokewood hadn't even caught Harold whacking off or reading porn or
sniffing her panties or anything that a normal boy does. A psychologist who
knows which end of the telephone to talk into will tell you that there are
two possible diagnoses. Either Harold had "pantyboy malaise," which meant
he ached for the pantyboy condition, even though he didn't even know such
an exalted state existed, or he was a jerk. Since Harold's mom didn't know
about pantyboy malaise, she had concluded that the second diagnosis
applied.

   Harold graduated from high school the day before his 18th birthday and,
since he rarely planned beyond his next meal, had no idea where he was
going in life. And didn't seem to care.

   Thank goodness for Mr. Stiffman.

   Gerald Stiffman actually approached Harold's mother at graduation and
asked if Harold would like to work for him. Mrs. Strokewood looked over her
shoulder to see whom Mr. Stiffman could be addressing. Surely he didn't
want Harold.

   But he did. And he was insistent.

   "Young Harold would be a great asset to my store, Stiffman Intimate
Apparel, Mrs. Strokewood. Harold has a future in lingerie."

   Well, no swami could have made a better prediction than that statement.
But Mrs. Strokewood thought Mr. Stiffman was hallucinating or something
about her Harold. When she realized that he was serious, she did what
anyone would do when dealing with a rich person who was being careless with
his assets. She took his money. Stiffman offered Harold's mom an employment
package for Harold that made her eyes bug out. Though Harold was to reach
his majority the next day, she knew he would do whatever she directed.
Harold always took the path of least resistance, so he never argued with
his Mom.


   Chapter Two -- The Job

   The next day, Mrs. Strokewood packed Harold a baloney on Wonder Bread
sandwich and drove him to work, since Harold had never gotten around to
learning to drive. She kissed him on the cheek and said, "Happy birthday,
Honey. Don't' screw this up."

   Harold said, "OK, Mom." But what he was really thinking was, "Yeah,
yeah, whatever," which is what all teenagers, pantyboy-malaised or not,
think whenever a parent speaks to them.

   Harold left the car and entered the store for the first time. And looked
around. And felt a twinge in his gut. He didn't know why, but he was paying
attention, full attention to his surroundings for one of the first times in
his life. The store was immense. One floor, but as big as a city block.
Like a Home Depot in size, but all girlie frillies.

   Harold's cock was stiff. "How did that happen?" he thought idly as he
scanned the huge room. On the left was ladies underwear -- rows and rows
of bras and panties and slips and camisoles and corsets and teddies. In
every girlish color of the rainbow. On the right was ladies nightwear --
dozens of racks of nighties and peignoirs of every size, shape, style and
length. The middle was for stockings. Fully-fashioned, lace-top, patterned,
fishnet, modern or traditional. With at least 100 different garter belt
styles and colors. Not one pair of pantyhose. The back wall of the store
was lined with shoes. The highest, spikiest, sexiest, girliest shoes on the
planet.

   Oh. Harold was perspiring and he didn't know why. Why was it so hot in
the store? Wasn't the air conditioner working? Why did he have a funny
feeling in his stomach?

   His eyes weren't focusing either and he was trembling. Was he sick? He
hadn't been sick before he entered the store.

   He was about to run out of the store and see if he could catch his Mom
for a ride home when Mr. Stiffman spotted him.

   "Harold! It's wonderful to see you. Welcome to my store. Have you ever
been here before? I guess not. You seem a bit overwhelmed. That's OK. Most
new employees feel that way. Let's get your lunch in the refrigerator and
I'll get Nancy to give you a tour.

   Harold hadn't said a word. He wanted to leave. Feelings were unfamiliar
to him. He rarely had feelings and they were very scary. But he wanted to
stay too. He had never seen anything one-millionth as exciting as
Stiffman's Intimate Apparel.

   He gulped. Apparently, Stiffman was not put off by the lad's reaction.
Had he seen it before?

   Harold believed at that point that, as a young man at Stiffman's
Intimate Apparel, he would be working on the loading dock or something.
Wearing a belt with tools and a big ring of keys. He guessed that Nancy,
whoever she was, would take him out back and introduce him to a burly guy
named Jack or Juan, who would call him "Bud," complain about the "idiots"
who ran the store, and make him do all the difficult work.

   Not so. First there was the matter of Nancy.

   Nancy.

   Nancy was simply the most beautiful human being Harold had ever seen.
His throat constricted when Stiffman introduced him to her and he was
humiliated when he couldn't speak.

   Nancy took it good-naturedly, saying, "That's OK, Harold. I get a lot of
that."

   Harold's eyes drank Nancy in. Long, lustrous red hair. Emerald green
minidress that barely covered her stocking tops. Fabulous, long legs
encased in silky, black stockings. Barely-there, strappy, black, mule
sandals with an enormous spiked heel. The face of an angel. Harold's
stiffie was still teeny, but it was hard and angry.

   "I'm in charge of the sales staff, Harold," Nancy said. "I can see that
you're going to be a valuable addition to our team."

   Sales staff? Harold couldn't sell ice water during a drought. And he
didn't know anything about lingerie, other than it made his dick hard.
Where were the tool belt and keys? And the guy who called him "Bud?"

   Harold managed to squeak out a "But, I..." but Stiffman interrupted.

   "I'll leave you to Nancy now, Harold. You'll be happy here. I guarantee
it.

   "Follow me, Harold," Nancy said.

   Nancy gave him a tour of each department, introducing him to
magnificently feminine and beautiful sales associate after magnificently
feminine and beautiful sales associate. Harold was reeling. How could he
sell anything with them around? Customers would avoid him like nuclear
waste. Was he the only man in sales? Was he an affirmative action case or
something?

   Despite the assault on his senses, Harold noticed two things that
puzzled him deeply. First, maybe it was the time of day or something, but
Harold only saw male customers. Second, Harold wasn't sure, but $175 for a
bra seemed like a lot. Yet, the store was packed with customers.

   When the tour was finished, Nancy asked if Harold had any questions. In
response to his first concern, Nancy said that their clientele was mostly
male because Mr. Stiffman had built a reputation by helping men pick out
lingerie for their wives and girlfriends. Regarding price, Nancy said, "We
stock only top-of-the-line merchandise here, Harold. Plus men are always
willing to pay top dollar for service and consultation. Any other
questions?"

   Those answers sort of satisfied Harold. But there was something odd
about the whole deal.

   The rest of the day, Nancy spent with Harold, teaching him about the
merchandise, showing him how to work the cash register and computer, and
filling out his employment papers. Harold wasn't stupid, just malaised. And
the new job seemed to be breaking that malaise up a bit.

   Harold wasn't sure whether he preferred malaise to the sensory assault
he underwent at Stiffman's. Being next to Nancy all day had him flushed and
feeling a need he never knew he had. Or so he thought. Perhaps what had
really excited Harold was the...merchandise.

   From what Harold was able to observe, Stiffman's Intimate Apparel was a
very successful enterprise. Salesgirls treated gentleman customers warmly
and the gentlemen responded very well, by purchasing armloads of wildly
expensive lingerie. The girls were all very beautiful, but would that be
enough for all those men to open...and empty their wallets so willingly?

   The last stop on the day's orientation tour with Nancy was the panty
department. Thousands of panties in every size, style and color. Harold was
feeling clammy and his digestive system seemed to be stirring his baloney
sandwich the wrong way. Nancy was nattering on about stock and reordering
and sales technique, but Harold could barely keep himself together.

   The panties were wonderful!!!!

   Being at the epicenter of world pantydom hugely excited Harold. In ways
he could hardly imagine.

   He held a gauzy little black pair in his hand and felt their silky
texture. He saw the tiny red ribbons that adorned the waistband and noted
the $150 price tag. And he quivered.

   He heard his name and thought that a higher being was telling him
something. "Harold!"

   Oh. It was Nancy. She had caught him daydreaming and worse, being a
little faggot who got excited by panties. She would fire him and he would
never be allowed in this paradise again. For the first time in his life,
Harold had recognized something he did not want to lose.

   But he was wrong. Nancy was smiling. "Do you like those, Harold?" the
beautiful angel said. "They're an excellent choice. Why don't you take them
home? And these too." Nancy was holding up a pair of simple-but-perfect,
pink, bikini panties trimmed with white lace (only $125).

   Harold froze. On the one hand, he was thrilled to be able to take the
panties home and "investigate" them. On the other, he was humiliated to
think that Nancy would believe his first-hand thoughts were true. Did she
think he was some kind of gay little dress-up princess? Well he wasn't, he
thought.

   Nancy seemed to be reading his mind. "It's OK to take the panties home.
It's part of the orientation for new employees. We want you to be...
familiar...with the products. In fact, we recommend that you try them
on. Please take the tags off and use them as you see fit. They're yours. We
want you get an idea of what you're selling. If you like the panties, I can
fix you up with other lingerie."

   Harold shuddered at the idea of wearing panties. His cock, which had
been in major distress all day, was sending him a signal that he didn't
recognize, but he liked very much. Still, his masculine self was obliged to
say, "But I'm a man."

   Nancy smiled. "Yes, but you're a Stiffman's Intimate Apparel sales
professional too. And we expect you to be familiar with what you sell."

   Poor Harold. He took in his breath and cried out softly. Harold didn't
know what was happening to him, but Nancy did. Nancy looked away, busying
herself folding panties as Harold shuddered through the first orgasm of his
life. The agony almost equaled the ecstasy. He saw a bright light and
walked toward it. He had no idea what happened to him or why, but he knew
he liked it a lot.

   Harold almost doubled over as spurt after sticky spurt drenched his
underpants. In a fleeting thought, he was grateful that his mother had
insisted that he wear dark trousers that morning. She couldn't have known
he would...

   Harold fought to regain his decorum. The last thing he wanted was to
appear to be a nerd to his boss, who was also a world-class babe. Nancy
seemed to be fascinated by the prospect of rearranging the panties on a
rack several feet from where Harold was soaking his drawers.

   Harold dried his watering eyes. There was nothing he could do about his
soaked, sticky crotch except hope it wasn't too obvious. Nancy noticed when
Harold was back among the living and said, "Let me wrap these samples up
for you, Harold. Then you can go home. You've had a lot thrown at you
today." Then she handed him her cell phone to call his mother for a ride
home.

   Poor Harold did so. He thanked Nancy for the "samples," then rode home
with his Mom, answering her questions with the usual grunts. When they got
home, he hurried to his room and locked the door. It was time to examine
the samples.



   Chapter Three -- Sampling

   For the first time that he could remember, Harold was truly excited
about something. So excited that he couldn't decide whether he should first
clean up the mess he made in his trousers or devour his panty treasures
with his eyes.

   Harold's curiosity about what had happened in his pants won out. He
stripped off his trousers and threw them on the bedroom floor. He looked at
his underpants. Beige, thick stains covered the front of his Jockey briefs.
How curious, he would have said if his name were Alice. He hooked his thumb
in the front of his briefs and pulled the elastic forward, giving him full
view of his little, drooping cock. His pubic area was drenched with a
sticky fluid that matted his hairs and made his cock look slick. He reached
in and felt himself. Harold knew the mess was what other teens called
"cum," but until that day, he hadn't given it much thought. Harold rubbed
his wet, sticky cock with the fingers of his right hand.  Surprisingly, it
felt very good. Exploring some more, he combed his fingers through the wet
pubic hairs, then reached down to see if his balls were wet. They were. And
the act of rubbing his cum-slick fingers against his little bag was
exciting
 him very much.

   Eager to see and experience the panties and confident that he had done
himself no harm by cumming earlier, Harold stopped feeling himself. He did
pull down his underpants, however, becoming naked from the waist down. He
knew he would have to hand-wash his gooey Jockeys so his Mom didn't see
them, but that was for later. For the moment, he was the consummate panty
professional, examining the merchandise so he would be able to perform his
professional tasks professionally.

   Harold considered getting a washcloth and cleaning himself off "down
there," but instinctively, he knew that there would be further messes that
day. And, perhaps that night.

   Harold's fingers quivered as he opened the bag of panties. He saw the
black teasers. Ohhhh. Then he spotted the pink ones. They were delicious
too. But then he saw...oh. Nancy had slipped in a third pair -- white,
satin and thronged. $195! Had Nancy said he could take the tags off and do
whatever he wanted with them? She had.

   It's safe to say that at that moment, Harold had never been so excited
in his life.

   He arranged the three pairs of panties on his bed, pink, black, white,
left to right.

   They beckoned him.

   His cocklet had pushed through the nest of sticky, matted hairs and
straightened itself again. His balls were aching. What was happening to
him?

   Nevertheless, he made his decision. The black panties were going on
first. Right after he took off his shirt and got naked.

   Harold didn't have a full-length mirror in his room. Above his dresser,
he had sort of a half-length one that his Mom had insisted he have. Had he
looked in a full-length mirror, Harold would have seen a fine, potentially
girlish body. Slender, with slim hips and good, shapely legs. A fine bottom
that was plump in the cheeks and tight in the middle. A general absence of
body hair. Long, straight, naturally blond hair tied into a ponytail.
Lovely, dark, large nipples that would later be the object of many men's
affection. But at that moment, Harold didn't even look at himself. He was
fixed on the black, bikini, see-through panties with tiny red ribbons along
the waistband and leg holes.

   Carefully, he removed the tags. So expensive, yet the men in the store
were making them fly off the shelves.

   Tags off, the panties were in their natural state. And so was Harold
-- naked and as rampant as anyone with a three-inch dick could be.

   Harold held the panties in front of him and felt their cool caress on
his naked popsy. Ohhh. He felt a thrill of sexual pleasure. What would
happen when he put them on?

   Harold removed the panties out of "harm's way," away from their friction
upon his prick, before "that thing" happened again. But he just HAD to try
them on.

   He sat on his bed and, for some reason, pointed his toes as he slipped
his right foot through the opening in the pretty panties. Then he slid the
left foot in. Harold's legs were practically hairless, which made the
voyage of the panties from his ankles to his privates and bottom a very
smooth ride. Harold shivered as the wispy black treasures passed his
thighs. He looked down at the waistband front's six tiny, red roses as the
center two rosettes tenderly scraped the sensitive skin of his little
ballbag. Ohhhh.

   Pressing on, Harold eased his first panties to the top of his scrotum,
then along the short, but tender length of his red, fiercely throbbing
prick. With one ecstatic pull, he encased his bottom, prick and balls in
gauzy, silky elegance.

   Harold breathed deeply, closing his eyes and trying to regain some
measure of self-control. When he had calmed a bit, he crossed the room to
his mirror.

   Harold was drawn to his own image. A pretty boy in black panties. The
panties were so sheer that he could see his erect penis, which was so red
and hot that it was almost burning a hole in the panties. He turned his
back to the mirror and saw his pink bottom through the black gauze of the
sweet knickers.

   Harold's life was divided into the times before and after that moment.

   He knew that things would never be the same for him. Thank goodness!!!

   Looking at his own bottom had him frantic with excitement. If he just
petted his cock a little, maybe that would help. Harold kept his eyes on
the mirror's lovely rectal reflection and softly slid his fingertips up and
down the gossamer material covering his drippy, mushroom head.

   An image flashed through Harold's head. Someone else, of undetermined
origin and gender, a dream person, was stroking his penis through his
panties. It felt wonderful!!! Then, in a flash of insight unparalleled in
most lives, Harold realized that, any time he wanted, he could put on
panties and, with little effort, find someone who would be more than
willing to stroke his penis. And kiss him. Willingly. All day if necessary.

   And that thought made him gasp, then cum until his beautiful first
panties were filled with hot, sticky goo.

   Harold's toes curled. His pretty nipples erected and he saw colors he
didn't know existed. He saw himself as a sexual being for the first time in
his life. And suddenly, his life was ablaze in possibilities.

   As was his penis. His panties were simply DRENCHED with hot, sticky
juices and, wouldn't you know it, his mother was banging on his door
telling Harold that dinner was ready.

   Harold croaked out, "I'll be there in five minutes, Mom," in a throaty,
sexy voice he never knew he had. Had Mom noticed?

   Harold was breathing in little gasps as he put his thumbs in the
panties' waistband and slowly eased them over his spent prick and balls and
down to mid-thigh. He considered his pubic area. What a gooey mess! What a
wonderful mess. Globs of cum stuck to everything. The beginning of a
journey Harold was eager, for once in his life, to take.

   Hurriedly, Harold stripped off his panties and went to the private
bathroom connected to his bedroom. With a soft washcloth permeated with
warm water and soap, he gently cleaned his prick and balls. Oh, he was
getting stiff again, just from that. After dinner, he would put the pink
panties on and see where that took him. Harold filled his sink with warm
water and soapsuds and lovingly hand washed his black panties. The cum
seemed to be dispersed easily, but where would he hide the wet frillies
from Mom's nosy eyes? Under his bed wasn't a great solution, but it would
do. He dressed quickly and joined his Mom for dinner.

   Mom seemed to notice that Harold was a bit flushed. Or maybe she didn't.
She asked her boy some questions about his day at work and, shockingly, he
gave her some answers. Already things were better, Mrs. Strokewood thought.

   Harold was a bit surprised when Mom said, "Mr. Stiffman is a wonderful
man. And so handsome. Don't you think he's handsome, Harold?"

   "Why would Mom ask that?" Harold thought. "Does she think I'm gay or
something?"

   His reply to Mom was, "I guess." But then he began to think that Mom was
right. Mr. Stiffman was handsome.

   Harold blamed Mom when, after dinner, he put on the pink panties, lay in
his bed rubbing himself and came four times thinking not only about how
beautiful Nancy was, but also about how handsome Mr. Stiffman was.



   Chapter Four -- First Day in Sales

   Harold awoke the next morning in pink panties that were stiff with
multiple cums. He rushed around cleaning up the evidence, hoping that the
black and pink teasers would be dry for his "pleasure" that evening after
work.

   Harold was apprehensive about being discovered when he slipped the white
pair on to wear under his boy khakis. But no one would know he was wearing
them. Right? And he just couldn't bring himself to wear men's underwear
that day.

   Mom drove Harold to work and she was pleased to see how eager he was to
get inside the store.

   Harold put his meat loaf sandwich with ketchup on white bread into the
refrigerator in the break room, then reported to Nancy for his first real
day of work. Since he had taken panties home the night before, he assumed
he would be working in that department. But Nancy had other ideas.

   "Did you have a good evening, Harold?" Nancy asked, as they walked to
the stockings and garter belt department.

   Was that a little smirk on Nancy's gorgeous face?

   Harold said he had checked out the panties as she had asked him to
do. Then he thought he saw that smirk again.

   "You'll like the stockings department, Harold. Jane is in charge and her
sales are fantastic. As I told you yesterday, we don't work on commission,
but Mr. Stiffman gives big rewards to the best producers."

   Harold shuddered at the thought of a "big reward" from
Mr. Stiffman. What was happening to him?

   Nancy introduced Harold to Jane, who was another absolute feminine
knockout. No wonder men shop here, Harold thought. And he was partly right.

   Jane was sweet too. During the half hour before the doors opened at 10,
she patiently explained the various merchandise to Harold. Then things got
interesting.

   Jane said, "Our top-of-the-line brand of fully fashioned stockings is
called "Girlish Dreams. It's our house brand and you can see that the name
and logo are at the top of each stocking."

   Harold could indeed see because Jane had lifted her skirts to expose her
stocking tops, garters and panties to Harold's stunned gaze. He looked
away, but Jane giggled and said, "Don't be squeamish, Harold. Take a good
look at what you'll be selling."

   Harold looked. He saw a set of long, perfect legs, encased in the
silkiest tan stockings he had ever seen. He saw a long seam along the back
of each stocking, ending in a reinforced heel. The toe was reinforced as
well and each dainty foot, with its perfectly polished and painted toenails
was enclosed in a black, five-inch-stiletto-heel sandal mule. He saw white,
creamy, hairless thighs bisected by slim, black garter straps. And he saw
opaque, pink panties that looked odd to him for a reason his mind couldn't
grasp.

   Harold took a long, good look. Then he looked at Jane and gulped, "Thank
you. I see what you mean."

   Jane smiled and lowered her skirts. "Wear this for the next few days,
Harold," she said, handing him a badge that said, "Trainee." "We don't want
the customers to be confused. Speaking of customers, the doors are
opening. You stay with me today and I'll show you the ropes."

   Harold thought that Jane had shown Harold quite enough already, but he
did exactly as he was told. He WANTED this job like he had never wanted
anything in his life.

   At 10:10, Jane said, "That Asian gentleman is Mr. Hung. He's a
Stiffman's Gold Card customer working his way to Platinum."

   Gold? Platinum? Nancy hadn't told him anything about that.

   Harold watched Mr. Hung pick out several pairs of $150 stockings. Over
his arm, he also had a $395 black babydoll nightie and two $175 garter
belts.

   At 10:22, he brought his selections to Jane, who smiled brightly and
greeted him. "It's wonderful to see you, Mr. Hung. You haven't been in the
store in a whole week. We missed you. I missed you."

   There was a thin layer of sweat on Mr. Hung's upper lip as Jane
continued. "This is Harold, Mr. Hung. He's our new sales trainee."

   Harold felt very strange when Mr. Hung looked at him. As if he were
appraising him somehow. It wasn't unpleasant. Just strange.

   Then Mr. Hung said, "Very nice. Welcome to Stiffman's, Harold. Very
nice."

   What did "very nice" mean?

   Anyway, Jane said, "So, do you have some things picked out for your
girlfriend, Mr. Hung? She's a very lucky girl. Isn't it wonderful that
we're exactly the same size?"

   Mr. Hung smiled. "Yes, wonderful. Can you try these on for me now?'

   What? Harold did a double take. He wanted Jane to model the lingerie he
was thinking about buying for his girlfriend? Was that done?

   Yes, but, with a few important differences from most retail operations.

   Jane took Mr. Hung's purchases and said, "These are some lovely choices,
sir. Let's just ring these up, shall we?"

   Another double take for Harold. Pay for them before Jane tried them on
and modeled them? With a strict "no returns or exchanges" policy posted
prominently all over the store? Huh?

   Jane and Mr. Hung appeared to know the drill. "That'll be $1,938.60,
with tax, sir," she said. Hung handed her his platinum Amex, then said, a
little sheepishly, "May I purchase the panties and stockings you're wearing
now too?"

   Jane smiled a "you naughty boy" smile, then said, "Of course,
Mr. Hung. Let me just add that to your total. Oh, Mr. Hung. Just $2,848.96
and you'll be a Stiffman's Platinum Club member. Won't that be wonderful? I
hope you'll remember little old me."

   Mr. Hung was smiling broadly at the thought.

   When Jane had rung Mr. Hung's purchases up, she asked him to sit
down. She stood across from him, out of Harold's direct view, then lifted
her skirts and pulled down her panties, giving Mr. Hung an excellent look,
Harold imagined, at her pussy. She handed Mr. Hung her pink panties, still
warm from her body. He accepted them as if they were the crown jewels. Then
she unhooked her garters and slowly rolled her exquisite stockings down as
Mr. Hung held Jane's panties to his nose and deeply and unashamedly
breathed in their aroma. That didn't gross out Jane at all. In fact, when
she handed Mr. Hung her stockings, she gave him a little kiss on the
cheek. Then she grabbed his purchases and took them to the dressing room to
in preparation for a show worthy of his status as a Stiffman's Gold Card
member.

   Harold watched discretely, but with fascination as Mr. Hung again
smelled the crotch of Jane's panties, then the feet of her stockings. The
poor perv was so stiff in the crotch area, Harold wondered if Mr. Hung's
trousers were made out of some rubber alloy.

   Within moments, Jane emerged wearing the black babydoll, a pair of the
panties and a pair of the fully-fashioned stockings. She was so sexy that
Harold thought that he and Mr. Hung would be riding in the same 9-1-1 van
to the hospital.

   For the first time, Harold noticed that there were large boxes of
Kleenex next to all the seats in the store. Mr. Hung was well aware that
they were there, because the customer's stiff, appreciative cock had made
its way through his fly and was standing bare and proud as he watched Jane
model.

   Mr. Hung stroked himself softly, not wanting to cum until Jane had tried
on all of his purchases. Harold watched the appreciative customer stop and
take deep breaths several times as Jane turned this way and that for him in
his new purchases. Jane announced when she was wearing the last outfit, so
Mr. Hung began to stroke himself in earnest, assisted by a sweet, tonguey
kiss from Jane, who touched Mr. Hung only on the lips and tongue and only
with her lips and tongue (befitting, as it turned out, Gold Card status).
When he blew his goo all over the nightie Jane was wearing, Jane didn't
mind at all. Harold wondered how Mr. Hung's girlfriend would like getting a
new nightie that had been creamed on. But then Harold thought, "Hey, maybe
there is no girlfriend." Maybe not.

   Jane scooted to the dressing room, letting Mr. Hung clean up his mess
and put his big boy back in his pants. They had hardly noticed that Harold
was there.

   But Harold was processing what he had seen.

   Mind whirring.

   Figuring out.

   What did it mean to him?

   The first thing it meant was pain. The stiffest and most painful
erection he could imagine.

   The second thing was sexual fear. Would they want him to do things like
that for customers? Wearing girl clothes and kissing big, manly customers?
Harold already adored panties and was thinking about cumming into his black
and pink friends that night. But how could he, a man, show himself in
public like that? And how could he kiss a man? With tongue?

   The third thing he felt was fear for his job. The worst thing that could
happen to him would be to lose the job that had given him the only reason
to live he had ever felt. But, as a man, he knew he could never measure up
in job performance to the set of 50+ ultrababes who worked at Stiffman's
Intimate Apparel.

   Out of the corner of his eye, Harold saw Jane kiss Mr. Hung goodbye,
hand him his big shopping bag and approach Harold. He thought she was going
to ask him for his reaction to what he had just witnessed.

   Instead, Jane said, "Let me show you the dressing rooms, Harold. Follow
me."

   Numbly, Harold complied. He noticed that Jane was carrying packages of
black and tan, fully-fashioned stockings, as well as a ruffled, black
garter belt. He also noticed that the dressing rooms were unlike any he had
seen at a store.

   Each dressing room was soundproof and had a double bed, two wing chairs,
a nightstand, a large closet, and an adjoining full bath with shower.

   Jane led Harold into Dressing Room Three, leaving the door open as she
said, "You need to try the merchandise, Harold. Take your pants off." She
began to open the package of black stockings.

   Harold shook with fear. He couldn't remove his trousers in front of this
beautiful woman! But even worse, he was wearing those white panties and she
would...

   "Come on, Harold. Don't be afraid. I know you're probably wearing
panties. It's OK. You're just learning the job. Now I don't have time to
waste, because the noon rush will be in and you need relief desperately."

   Relief? Ohhh. Harold was distressed and blushed fiercely, but he removed
his pants. "What Jane must think of me!" he thought. "Wearing white panties
and my tiny, unmanly dick is stiff and dripping."

   The panty issue was short-lived, because Jane insisted he remove his
panties too, thereby permanently and totally humiliating him. And darned
near completely emasculating him as well.

   Which, as we know, can be a good thing.

   Jane said, "You poor boy. I thought you were in this condition. Why
didn't you say something? No one can work like this. Now come over here."

   Jane sat in a wing chair and Harold stood in front of her. She turned
him so that he was perpendicular to her, then she began to make him quite
happy.

   "You should never allow yourself to stay in this condition, Sweetie,"
Jane said. "A young man like you needs regular milking." To prove her
point, Jane began to feel and cuddle Harold's privates with her right
hand. Harold whimpered -- something he could never recall doing
before. Jane began to rub the drippy goo all around his pretty pink
mushroom. "You could injure yourself. Does that feel good?"

   Harold moaned.

   Jane stroked Harold's pricktip sweetly for about five minutes and then,
with a tiny, unmanly squeak, Harold began to ejaculate into a Kleenex Jane
had positioned perfectly to catch the young man's sticky cream.

   Harold was in heaven. He was orgasming while engaged with another person
for the first time. And it was a job benefit.

   Who needed a dental plan anyway?

   Harold's face was flushed and his demeanor compliant when Jane had him
sit in a chair. She instructed him in the proper wearing of stockings,
including the sexy, teasing ways of rolling them up while a man is
watching. "Why do I need to know that?" Harold wondered. But he did as he
was told.

   It put the poor, overloaded lad "on the verge" again. Rolling on,
wearing and admiring one's own stockings constitute a sensual feast. And
Harold was being nourished for the first time in his life. When he donned
his garter belt and hooked the six straps to his stockings. Harold was
needy and whimpering once again.

   That time, he needed no encouragement when Jane offered relief.

   Jane made things extra sweet by taking things a little further. As she
caressed his tiny pole with her right hand, Jane wet the middle and index
fingers of her left hand with her saliva and gently inserted the manicured
digits, one at a time, into Harold's tight bottom.

   Jane didn't even get to run her fingers in and out of Harold's
pootie. The first anal visitors of his life threw him into a high
elliptical orbit and made him cry out girlishly as he evacuated the boyish
toxins from a body, awakening him to a whole new set of possibilities.

   Harold loved cumming. He loved the tingles he got when sexual activity
began. He loved the excitement of the acts themselves, the dirtiness of it
all. He was flattered that another person would see him as worthy for a
partner, especially one as dishy as Jane. He loved the warning pangs when
his crisis was near, followed by the near-death experience of a
full-throttle cum. The French call cumming, le petit mort, or the little
death. And they would know about stuff like that.

   What Harold didn't like was the way the events of the past two days
seemed to be affecting his masculinity. Wearing panties and stockings,
practically cumming just from putting them on, then cumming for real when
he rubbed himself up a little while wearing girlie things. Those were
unsettling to Harold's sense of masculinity. Even worse, he had sort of
decided that he wanted to wear stockings and panties 24/7 for the rest of
his life. Even in the shower.

   That couldn't be a good sign that he would be the next big action hero
after Arnold, Bruce and Sly were in the nursing home.

   Then there was the matter of squealing when he came. Another bad
omen. Real men don't squeal and cum in their panties, letting it dribble
down onto their fully-fashioned stockings. Do they?

   Still, even though it was emasculating, he had REALLY enjoyed every
millisecond of what had happened to him thus far.

   And he had a feeling that it was only the beginning.

   While Harold was in his reverie, Jane wiped up his gooies and pulled his
panties up. "I hope you're feeling better now, Honey. Don't you dare let
yourself get so agitated without relief again. Just let me or one of the
other girls know if you need a milking and they'll do it cheerfully and
very skillfully. Now, get your pants back up, Harold. We have customers and
there's lots more for you to learn about sales."

   Submissively, Harold pulled his pants and panties up and over his
stockings and followed Jane back onto the floor. The silky material of his
stockings caressed his legs. The panties gently scraped his prickhead and
balls. So far, he loved his job.

   Harold watched Jane flirt and tease and sell a ton of merchandise to the
lunchtime crowd, none of whom had achieved gold or platinum status
yet. Jane and Harold took a late lunch, at 1:30, and returned to the floor
by 2.

   At 2:20, Harold met his first Platinum Club member -- Mr. Rammer.

   Jane treated Mr. Rammer as if he had just landed on the deck of a
carrier and declared the quest for the perfect panty over. Mr. Rammer was
clearly a VIP at Stiffman's Intimate Apparel, and he was gracing Jane with
his purchases that day.

   Harold was fascinated.

   Mr. Rammer had a shopping cart filled with stockings, panties, garter
belts, high-heeled shoes and "sleep"wear. Rammer was clearly a high roller.

   Jane rang up his purchases (in excess of $4,000) then introduced
Mr. Rammer to Harold.

   Mr. Rammer looked Harold over very carefully, much as Mr. Hung had. But
more as if he "owned" Harold or something. Harold shivered with an unknown
emotion that he later understood to be sexual attraction to a man. The
whole idea was so foreign to Harold that when it entered his head, his
brain rejected it. But not his prick. His prick liked being looked over
"that way" by a man.

   Jane seemed to be wavering about something. Harold didn't know what it
was. Mr. Rammer did.

   "Bring your trainee along, Jane," Mr. Rammer said. "He'll learn
something about sales."

   Even Harold knew at that point that they weren't going to be in the back
room discussing lingerie fashion trends.

   He wanted to be there when whatever would happen would happen.

   Harold carried the just-purchased lingerie, following Jane and
Mr. Rammer to Dressing Room Five, which was an even nicer version of the
room where, before lunch, Jane had made him cum and squeal -- twice.

   Jane felt she had to explain a bit of what was happening to Harold, so
she did. Mr. Rammer seemed amused as she said, "Mr. Rammer is a Platinum
Card member, Harold. That means he gets to "test drive" his new
lingerie. Gold Card members get to see it on the salesgirl and they get a
nice kiss as they're ready to cum. But the test drive is much
more...extensive. For one thing, the member gets to watch the girl undress
and put the clothes on. The rest, I think you'll figure out."

   Harold was shaking visibly and he felt the beginnings of a cold
sweat. He was going to see beautiful Jane naked? And so was that Rammer
guy? Oh no. That feeling of intense need was back and Jane was too
"occupied" to do anything about it.

   Rammer said, "Try these first, Sweetheart," and he handed Jane a
beautiful, wispy pair of pink panties with white lace. Suddenly, Rammer and
Jane seemed to forget Harold was in the room.

   Jane did an exquisite strip tease for Rammer (and almost made poor
Harold, the innocent bystander, explode and implode simultaneously). Jane
stripped to just her bra and panties. At that point, Rammer removed his
pants and underpants, exposing a thick, wet, hard, muscular cock almost
eight inches long and fiercely erect. Harold's throat went dry. But that
wasn't the highlight of the interlude.

   Rammer sat in a wing chair and considered the beautiful Jane. She was
slowly, teasingly removing the tags from the panties Rammer had designated
as her first costume. Poor Harold could have used a case of smelling salts.

   Jane turned her back to Rammer and Harold, unhooked her bra, and then
teasingly turned around.

   The bra had been filled with forms! Jane was completely flat-chested,
except for some lovely, puffy nipples that were erect with her girlish
excitement.

   Rammer didn't appear to be disappointed at all. In fact, it seemed to be
exactly what he expected.

   But then came the really big surprise.

   Jane turned her back again, this time to remove her only remaining
garment -- the black panties Jane had put on after Mr. Hung bought the
pretty things she had worn to work. Poor Harold was trembling as his mentor
wiggled out of her pretty panties, revealing a bottom far beyond the dreams
of mortal man. It was a perfect, heart shape, firm but promising soft
delights. Harold thought, "Omigosh, she's going to turn and I'm going to
see her pussy.'

   Harold was only right about the turning part.

   The beauteous Jane turned and Harold saw...her cock!

   Her cock!

   Jane had a cock. Just like Harold's except, perhaps even smaller. With a
pretty, girlish bag of pearls dangling saucily below.

   Harold cried out and Jane and Rammer turned their heads toward
him. Harold was scared and humiliated. And full of apologies.

   "I'm sorry, I didn't know," he said to first Rammer, then Jane.

   Rammer looked at Jane, who nodded in confirmation to Rammer, who smiled
at the thought.

   Then the two went back to ignoring Harold. Jane slipped on the pink
dazzlers Rammer had bought, then sisssied over to his naked lap. The two
entered into a deep kiss and Jane placed her soft hand on Rammer's huge
cock. Harold was biting his lip to avoid crying out again, trying
desperately to process what was going on.

   Rammer's cock was leaking sticky fluid as the couple broke the
kiss. Rammer drew the almost-naked Jane to him, then kissing licking and
sucking her right nipple.

   Harold couldn't help it. He made the tiniest whimper and Rammer stopped
sucking.

   Would Rammer complain to Stiffman and have Harold fired? Tears formed in
Harold's eyes at the thought.

   Apparently, Rammer had other intentions. He reached over and grabbed a
pair of purchased black panties and held them out to Harold. "I have
another knee and plenty of panties, little one," he said in invitation.

   Harold gasped. He was being invited to strip nude, put on a fresh pair
of panties and then sit on a naked man's hairy thigh. A rampant, naked man,
upon whose other naked thigh rested a panties-only-clad co-worker, just
revealed to Harold as a male wearing women's clothes. And "pretending" to
be a woman. Pretending very well, actually. She was gorgeous. So many
things to process and understand. Were some other saleswomen at Stiffman's
really "pretty boys?" Were they <gasp> all pretty boys?

   Questions for later. At the moment, Harold had to decide whether he
wanted a man kissing him and stroking his little popsy.

   Harold was certain that he wanted that very much. He didn't know
why. But he knew.

   So he stood and, as the amorous, kissing, caressing and licking couple
resumed their affections, Harold stripped naked.

   Harold was afraid, but resolute. When he was completely naked, he
realized that Rammer and Jane had stopped their fun and were looking at
him. Rammer looked as if he were very attracted to Harold, who remembered
from his mirror examinations the evening before that he had a body made for
panties.

   Harold blushed, but he was flattered too as he rushed to get the
replacement panties on.

   Jane's make-up was smeared and she seemed very heated up when Harold
caught her eye. She smiled and nodded at Harold, giving him some needed
affirmation.

   Harold sighed deeply, then sat his pantied bottom on Rammer's hairy,
right thigh.

   "You're very pretty," Rammer said. Then he kissed Harold deeply.

   Holy, wet tongue! Harold loved that kiss. The first kiss of his
life. And it was a man who was kissing him.

   Was Rammer gay? Was Jane? Was Harold? Did it matter?

   Harold listened to himself. He knew that he wanted men. He knew that,
like Jane, he wasn't a man. He couldn't define himself yet, but he knew who
and what he was.

   And he knew he liked the feelings he was getting as Rammer held his
naked torso and kissed his face, neck and shoulders.

   Where was Jane?

   Oh.

   Harold saw that Jane was on her knees between Rammer's legs. She had
Rammer's big cockhead in her mouth and she was giving it a good polishing
with her wet tongue.

   Would Harold have to do that as part of the job? He hoped so.

   Ohhh. Rammer's right hand was caressing Harold's back and his left hand
had entered the front of Harold's panties. Rammer's huge hand was cuddling
Harold's prick and balls as their tongues dueled.

   Harold was totally enraptured. He held his head back and surrendered
completely to Mr. Rammer's lust. The man was a great kisser. Harold was so
excited and needy. Rammer's big hand was so gentle and loving. Rammer was
so excited by Jane's tongue on his cock.

   Involuntarily, Harold arched his back, squeaked and began to spurt his
cream into Rammer's hand, drenching his panties in his ecstasy. Rammer
kissed Harold and then grunted, launching his own, debilitating
orgasm. Jane's face took rope after rope of the Platinum Card holder's hot
man juice. Jane, like any self-respecting pantyboy, wore her facial
frosting with pride.

   Harold was in love. With Rammer. With Jane. With Nancy. With his life
from that moment on.

   And well he should be.



   Chapter Five -- Judy at Last

   After their little ménage a three-way, Harold looked to Jane for
direction.

   She sweetly told Harold to get dressed in his boy clothes (with the
enchanting addition of panties, garter belt and stockings) and get back to
the floor, since their department needed staffing. She also whispered to
Harold that she was pleased with his development, but she needed some
quality "sales" time with Mr. Rammer.

   Harold wasn't sure what he should do about the cum-drenched panties he
was wearing until Rammer reached his hand out and said, "I'll have those,
Sweetie. Just as they are."

   Oh my. Mr. Rammer certainly had his appetites! Harold pulled his cummy
panties down, exposing his naked charms to Rammer and Jane. He blushed
fiercely, hoping they would draw him into their naughty business once
again.

   Alas, Rammer was completely focused on Jane, whom he was kissing and
feeling up with some relish. He seemed to be delighted at the prospect of
some time alone with Jane, whom he was to "entertain" that day until just
before closing time at six.

   Out on the floor, Harold was visited by Nancy, who said she had been
"signaled" by Jane, who had given her a very good report on Harold.

   Harold looked critically at the beauteous sales chief. Was Nancy a man?
Harold was too much of a gentleman to ask, though the gentleman part of him
was withering quickly.

   Then Nancy cleared some things up for the girlish boy. "We all started
out like you, Harold. May I call you Judy, which is Stiffman's name for
you? He names us all, once we accept our femininity. Recruits us all
too. The man's a genius at spotting pantyboys."

   "So that's what I am," Harold/Judy thought. "A pantyboy." He/she liked
that name. And the name "Judy."

   "May we call you Judy?" Nancy asked again.

   "Oh yes, please," Judy said.

   Harold had had nothing going for him. Judy would have the world at her
feet. The men in the world at least.

   Nancy told Judy that for the next few days, her work time would be split
between working on the sales floor and learning how to project her feminine
self to the world -- hair, make-up, clothes, manners, voice. The morning
would begin with a makeover and the day, and every day, would offer all the
milkings she needed to calm herself.

   Nancy added, "This will be your last night as a boy, but maybe this will
make it easier." And she handed Judy a bag filled with clothes and "other
things."

   Judy did what girls do when they're happy. She cried.

   Starting the next day, she would be one of the girls. Taking care of
customers. Making money for Stiffman. And for herself.

   It sounded wonderful to Judy, whose personality was developing along a
completely different path from Harold's. Judy was happy and optimistic. And
chatty. And eager to please. Especially men <blush>.

   Ninety minutes later, when her Mom picked Judy up, Judy was hesitant to
tell Mom that her son had become her daughter. Forever.

   She saw Mom's car in the parking lot and scurried over. She got inside
and said, "Oh, Mom, I have so much to tell you. I..."

   Mom was crying. She reached out her arms, hugged Judy and said, "Oh,
Judy! I'm so happy! I'm so happy that you're happy! Stiffman called and
told me everything!"

   Judy was stunned and delighted. She added a tributary to the river of
happy tears. For the first time in many years, mother and child loved each
other completely.

   They yakked like girlfriends and didn't even eat their macaroni and
cheese dinner until nearly 8:30.

   Then Mom said, "I'll clean up, Dear. I imagine you have 'needs' to take
care of."

   Judy blushed. Had Stiffman told Mom to expect that Judy would be
"milking" herself as well?

   Oh, well. There wasn't much Judy wanted to hide from Mom at that point,
but she still locked her bedroom door.

   For the first time, Judy opened the bag of femmy goodies that Nancy had
given her.

   Oh, such lovely things! Three pretty nighties. Eight delicious pairs of
panties. Four garter belts and six pairs of fully-fashioned stockings.

   And at the bottom of the bag, a wrapped package that said, "Open me when
you're dressed."

   What could that be?

   Judy washed herself up and sat to tinkle. Then she walked around the
room as sissily as she could manage. Make-up was not in her playbook yet,
but she did pick out and put on the sexiest pink stockings, garters,
panties and babydoll.

   Oh, what a babydoll! Judy's first nightie reminded her of a strawberry
ice cream soda. All pink and white and frothy. Her little clitty was so
hard and needy just looking at herself, but when she started imagining a
man in her bedroom with her, admiring her, then kissing her all over like
Mr. Rammer did! Ohhhh. The poor pantyboy was "on the verge" again.

   Then she remembered the package. Harold thought packages were
stupid. But Judy decided she liked packages. So she opened it. How
curious. It was a magazine in a brown wrapper that said, "Open me first,
read me, then open the rest." The other stuff was wrapped in a second
package.

   Hmmm! Judy decided to play along.

   Then she noted that one item was already unwrapped -- a tube of
personal lubricant. Even Judy knew what that was for.

   Judy took the book and the lubricant and lay on her back on her bed. Was
it porn? To some, perhaps. To others it's a book of dreams.

   Judy peeled off the wrapper and saw her future.

   It was a glossy, 80-page publication called "Panty Boy." The "P" in the
logo had a single pair of pink panties draped over it. The issue was Volume
4, Number 11: April 1-15, 2001. The cover photo was a stunner!

   A lovely panty boy was wearing an ensemble of white lingerie that would
have cost almost $1,000 at Stiffman's. She was made up to bedroom-seduction
perfection, and lying on her back atop a frilly, girly bed. Her delicious,
red, bee-stung lips were parted and her darkly made-up eyes were
closed. Her adorable panties, made entirely of the sheerest, white lace,
were down to mid-thigh and her itsy-bitsy popsy was in mid-cum. Her perfect
tummy was a lake of hot, sticky cream, and the photographer had captured
her last, curly, gooey, string of cum in mid-air. He had also captured the
panty angel's expression of tortured ecstasy as her "pink purse" emptied
its girlish contents for the "reader's" delight.

   Poor Judy! Like ten million regular "readers" of Panty Boy magazine,
Judy discovered that no one could gaze upon that picture for the first time
and keep his or her cum in its bag.

   The sweet angel heaved her cummy load from her little balls, soaking yet
another pair of expensive panties. She whimpered and moaned as she thought
about the men who would look at that picture and lose their manly, liquid
cargo. At that moment, Judy formed the intent to grace the cover of "Panty
Boy" magazine someday. Which, as we all know she did. OK, twice. To my
once. But mine was a lot better. All the men I take to bed say so.

   Anyway, Judy's little nutsies almost blew off and she hadn't even opened
the magazine or used the lube yet. The lube turned out to be superfluous,
because, after the first cumstorm of the evening, there was plenty of
moisture to go around.

   When Judy had calmed herself a bit, she looked at the cover picture
again. The magazine's sissy doll was doing something extra naughty. In her
right hand, she was holding one end of a long (two feet, at least)
cylindrical object that was made out of clear, gelatinous, and
firm-yet-supple material. Judy looked closely. The end she could see
appeared to be shaped like a <blush> cockhead! She couldn't see the other
side because it appeared to have been pushed into the pantyboy's pretty
bottomhole! Judy gasped! How was that possible?

   Judy remembered fondly how Jane had put two fingers into her bottom
earlier that day. It had been delightful and it made her cum hard. But
Jane's fingers were slim and that "thing" appeared to be about the size of
Mr. Rammer's cock!

   Maybe it was an illusion. Maybe it was only in her bottom a little
bit. Did men put their things into pantyboys "back there?" Did it hurt? Did
the pantyboys like it?

   Aside from being terrified that she would be halved by an
overenthusiastic lover who wanted to run his business in and out of her
"dirty place," Judy was very excited by the idea. Pantyboys could be fucked
like women! On their backs with their men rutting and
grunting. Surrendering to their men.

   Oh.

   She was stiff again.

   Judy opened the magazine. The first "pictorial" was called "Your
Cheatin' Heart." Yes, it was a Hank Williams song, but it was an odd name
for a pictorial.

   It was a story in pictures, beginning with a young man who was a college
student, sitting in class, then going home to an apartment no college
student could afford.

   Slowly, lovingly, the pictorial showed the transition from 18-year-old
male student, to the dazzling pantyboy depicted on the cover. Picture by
picture, it showed him strip to a lovely nude, then sit at a vanity table
and make himself up into a pantyboy the magazine called Anne. Even nude,
Anne oozed femininity. The first full-frontal shot where a stockinged,
heeled and gartered Anne is hooking on a white, lacy bra, the reader could
see the girl's tiny tinkler. It looked erect and needy to Judy, who was
finding that she was attracted to her sister pantyboys, though not nearly
as much was she was to men.

   Judy, who had yet to suck a cock, ached to do so.

   Anne dressed completely in a white lingerie ensemble. Judy thought that
Anne must be about to "entertain" a man, since it seemed like a lot of
trouble to do all that for oneself (notwithstanding the fact that Judy was
guilty of that, less the make-up, that evening).

   But Anne seemed to be meeting another friend. A plastic one. The huge,
long cock-substitute from the cover photo appeared and Anne took it to bed
with her. After carefully lubing seven inches of one end, Anne gave clear
evidence of the disappearance of all seven inches.

   Judy's eyes were wide as she saw Anne take the entire business with
ease. No, beyond ease. With relish.

   Could Judy do that? With a man's real cock?

   The next six photos showed the gut-busting orgasm depicted on the cover,
spurt by cummy spurt. Then Judy added four thick spurts of her own. Thank
goodness she had removed her panties. They were already at maximum
permeation.

   Judy's head was filled with visions of real men with real cocks putting
them into her -- to their mutual delight. If it didn't kill her first.

   Judy moved on through the magazine. After the monster cum, the phone
rang and dialogue was added to the story. Using a "split screen," Anne was
on the left and a strikingly handsome and manly fellow was on the
right. The man was in what was obviously a hotel room. He was wearing blue
silk pajamas, but had fully unbuttoned the top, revealing a hairy chest and
six-pack abs. He had unbuttoned the crotch of the pajama bottoms to reveal
-- oh my -- a painfully erect cock that went up to and PAST his belly
button. His hairy balls were almost the size of a brown lunch bag. And he
was seriously CUTE!

   Whew! Judy was erect again. "Shouldn't this magazine come with a warning
label?" she thought.

   The panty princess in the magazine asked, "When are you coming home,
darling? I miss you so much."

   The man said, "Day after tomorrow, Honey. I miss you too, Baby. I love
you so much. All I can think about is making love to you."

   The two engaged in some mild phone sex for two pages and then, "Wham!"
Anne spurted her cream all over herself, as she professed her undying love
for "Brad." Then Brad winced and flung man-sized globs of thick juice all
over himself. Judy, of course, joined them.

   If she could only meet someone half as cute as Brad, she
thought. (Later, when she did her first shoot for Panty Boy, she and Brad
had a white-hot, little, three-week affair. So did I. He was great, but
Judy and I knew we could do better.)

   The picture story concluded with a lot of phone kisses and
promises. Anne hung up the phone and the full page went back to pictures of
her. She removed the big toy from her bottom and threw it away. She held
her arms open and...[turn the page], was joined by a very good-looking,
very naked gentleman who climbed atop Mount Anne, hoisted her legs and gave
her what pantyboys crave. A good, stiff fucking! Judy wondered, where did
that "Brad pinch hitter" come from? Did Anne have men lined up around the
block, waiting to fuck her should the opportunity arose? Apparently so. And
how did she get mystery man's huge cock into that tiny hole. And why was
she cumming all over herself as he fucked her?

   Questions that Judy was pretty sure she would enjoy answering as soon as
possible.

   She turned the page and saw that Brad was also a cheater! A tasty little
Asian doll with a stiff, two-and-a-half-inch popsy, a lovely smile,
miniscule black babydoll, and black, fully-fashioned stockings had joined
Brad on the bed. In the next picture, she was kissing him and her petite
bottom had consumed the entirety of Brad's fat friend.

   How was that possible?

   If she could do it, couldn't Judy?

   The other package!

   Judy got out of bed, drooling cum down her belly as she crossed the room
to retrieve the package from the box. It was flat and long. Judy opened it
and saw -- a replica of the two-foot-long, dual-headed, prick-like toy
from the magazine.

   She could lube it up and slowly insert it into her tight,
pantyboy-virgin pussy. Just to see if it fit. Sort of a science project.

   What if it didn't fit? Judy would be drummed out of pantyboydom. Her
panties would be confiscated and she would have to wear cotton Jockey
briefs for the rest of her miserable, manly life.

   Maybe not, but Judy knew she would feel a lot better if she could get
about five inches or so of that sissypleaser into her pootie.

   Judy was trembling a bit when she washed the whole, big sausage in the
sink, with soap and water. One must take some precautions with what one
sticks into one's "special place." She dried her imminent deflowerer with a
towel, then took the "instrument," the tube of lube, and "Panty Boy" to
bed, placing them at her side after she lay down on her back.

   Judy set up the pillows just as she liked them. Her room had to look its
best for the crime-scene photos and the nightly news: "Pantyboy halves self
with ridiculously long, ersatz cock -- film at 10."

   Judy lubed about six inches of the end with the smaller "cockhead." Then
she opened the magazine to check out the positioning and grip Anne used to
impale herself.

   She placed the intruder at the wrinkled gate to heaven, drew her breath
in, then eased the head past the tight ring.

   Not bad.

   Kind of nice.

   She pushed in an inch and gasped a little. A little discomfort, no pain.

   Another inch. A big pinch. The first real unpleasantness. Judy
rested. Her cock, which had drooped from her fear, was starting to twitch
in appreciation.

   Slowly, Judy pushed with steady pressure, embedding the other three
lubed inches. That hurt a bit, but it passed. Judy held the other end of
the penile simulator and decided to do her own test drive. She pushed and
pulled the hard-gelatin material in, out and sideways, simulating a good
fuck as well as one can without a man in the room.

   That, she liked. So did her pricklet. It stiffened. Her breathing
quickened. She closed her eyes and pretended that a man like Brad was on
top of her girlish body, pushing and grunting as he worshipped and adored
her. She was close. Her dream man was close. Her dream man cried out! Judy
screamed! Loudly and shrilly. But her sticky juices didn't come out. Had
she broken something down there? She was in sexual distress but wasn't
cumming. Where was ...ahhhh...the big thing in her bottom, rubbing on her
prostate, had delayed the juices. But hadn't abated them. All of a sudden,
the impediment collapsed and her cum was gushing as Judy doubled over in
sweet anguish.

   Actually, in one way, the timing was perfect. Judy's mother, who
responded to Judy's orgasmic scream, thinking that she was being murdered,
flung the door open just in time to see her "son" in full pink lingerie,
anus stuffed with a cock-like device, gushing cum from a tiny, stiff prick.

   We all need material to tell our psychoanalysts. Why should we bore
them?



   Chapter Six -- Employee relations

   Judy's career and the "real' part of her life began in earnest the next
day.

   Mom kissed the still-boy-dressed Judy as she dropped her off at
work. Judy had no regrets about the fact that she had put on boys' clothes
for the last time that morning. When the boy clothes came off, the whole
lot was going to charity.

   Judy was tingling with excitement and curiosity. How would she look
after the makeover? Would she be up to Stiffman's Intimate Apparel
standards?

   Oh yes, ladies and gentlemen.

   Stiffman's ran a beauty parlor operation for its "girls." Open two hours
before work and four hours after, it was an employee benefit that had a
direct impact on how many customers came through the door and how much they
spent. So it was a first-class operation.

   Delma, one of Stiffman's ace beauticians, was on overtime duty (during
Stiffman's retail hours) to do a makeover for Judy, the new girl. Delma
gave Judy "the works" and instructed her in how to do her make-up and touch
up her new, blonde hairstyle. It took five hours, but the results were
spectacular.

   Judy herself was astounded at her girlish beauty. She was made-up,
manicured, pedicured, ear-pierced, powdered, perfumed and dressed in a
perfect little black dress that highlighted her body's assets. Judy could
only manage two-inch heels at that point, but they still made her bottom
begin to jut out the way men adore.

   When Judy stepped out on the floor, even her coworkers stopped what they
were doing to admire Judy's beauty. I'm not exaggerating. Only four girls
have ever been on two Panty Boy covers -- one was Judy.

   Judy was feeling completely on top of the world when she reported to
Nancy for an assignment that would cover the last three hours of the day.

   Nancy gasped. "Oh my, Judy," she said. "Stiffman will be able to build a
new wing on his mansion from all the lingerie you'll sell for him."

   Judy blushed. She ADORED being the complete center of the universe. What
a change from Harold's life.

   "So where am I selling today, Chief?" good-soldier Judy asked.

   Nancy said, "Nowhere today, Honey. Mr. Stiffman always gives the new
girls an 'orientation' on their first girlie day, right after their
makeover. Don't worry, he called your Mom and explained. He'll also be with
you for breakfast, if you get my meaning."

   Judy got it. Mr. Stiffman was going to give her several good, stiff
fuckings most of the night. That sounded wonderful to her.

   Nancy asked, "Did you use all the stuff in that package I gave you last
night?"

   Judy nodded.

   "Was it OK? No bad pain?"

   "A little, but then it was all pleasure."

   Nancy hugged Judy and wished her good luck.

   Then she escorted her to Stiffman's office. "Always knock before you go
into his office, Judy," Nancy said. "Sometimes he's 'consulting' with the
sales staff. He often 'consults' with the sales staff."

   Judy blushed. What a great place to work.

   Nancy hugged Judy and left. Judy knocked.

   "Come in," a manly voice said.

   She entered and was delighted at Stiffman's reaction. Even he, who had
selected, employed and bedded dozens of panty boys over the past 18 years,
was impressed by Judy. More than impressed. Smitten.

   "Judy!" the astonished, delighted and stiff man said. "You're
incredible! Can I pick 'em or not?"

   Just like a guy. Giving himself credit for Judy's beauty. Though it was
true that almost no one in the world would have seen Harold as anything
other than Harold.

   Judy knew that she owed a huge debt to Stiffman. She was more than happy
to pay her debt.

   Stiffman's eyes were still wide a minute after he first saw Judy. Was he
drooling? He seemed frozen, so Judy said, "Mr. Stiffman, you've made me a
very happy girl. How can I ever repay you?"

   That's what men call, "Something we like to hear."

   Stiffman said, "Just come over and sit on my lap, my dear. Let me drink
in your beauty as I smell your perfume."

   The fly was eager to join the spider, but she had an idea first. "But
it's so hot in here, Mr. Stiffman. Can I take my dress off, please?"

   "Nice," Stiffman thought.

   "Of course, my dear," he said. "If you really want to make me happy, I
would love to see you in just your Stiffman's Intimate Apparel,
high-quality, European-import panties."

   In answer, Judy giggled and bit her knuckle. Then she asked Mr. Stiffman
to unzip her. Slowly, teasingly, Judy stripped to her sheer, black panties,
which were imported from Wisconsin, cost Stiffman $3.56, and sold for $185,
a tidy 5,197% markup.

   Stiffman liked his girls in just their panties. They were so girly and
submissive when they were reduced to the bare essentials. It was also good
for their morale, helping them understand that it was their beauty and
personality that made them girls, not their clothes.

   Judy looked very girly in just her panties. Her feminine confidence was
growing, and her red toe- and fingernails, gave her an extra burst of
sissiness.

   Veteran pantyboy lover that he was, Stiffman knew that Judy was
special. She looked dazzling, even without those overpriced clothes he
sold.

   She looked so good that Stiffman changed the plan. Judy had almost
reached the sitting Stiffman when suddenly, he stood. "Come with me,
Sweetheart," he said, taking Judy's hand.

   Submissively, Judy complied.

   Stiffman took Judy through a door and into a lovely, manly bedroom where
Stiffman had spilled a few gallons of goo over the years.

   Stiffman said, "Do you trust me, Judy?"

   Judy nodded. She was very excited.

   "Then lie on the bed, on your back, with your arms over your head, and
let me make you happy."

   That sounded awfully good. Judy did so. She wanted to give herself,
completely and submissively, to a man.

   Stiffman looked at the almost-naked, submissive angel with great
anticipation as he stripped naked.

   Judy whimpered with lust when she saw Stiffman's hairy chest and big
cock.

   Her hands remained above her head when Stiffman joined her on the
bed. He lay on his left side, his large, right hand rested on Judy's tummy
as he kissed her sweet lips. Judy was hungry for his kisses, but her balls
ached for release. The poor pantyboy hadn't cum since Delma the beautician
milked her by cuddling her babyballs four hours earlier.

   Stiffman offered Judy his tongue and she reciprocated. Then he went
"panty-fishing" for Judy's pretty little "worm." He kissed her tonguily as
he gently tickled her pricklet. Judy felt a tingle in every pore of her
body. Especially her nipples.

   Her little nubbies were erect and aching as Stiffman licked her
tonsils. His fingers were giving her an excellent feel-up, even though her
panties were still on. She wanted to feel Stiffman's excellent prick, but
her arms were still submissively positioned over her head. The poor
pantyboy was gasping and panting as the man took charge of her completely.

   Stiffman stopped kissing the panty angel. What would he do next? Judy
was powerless to stop him!

   The nipples. He was going for the nipples. Every pantyboy's
vulnerability. Judy's nips were as stiff as tiny pricks and alive with need
when Stiffman began to adore them with his lips and tongue.

   Judy screamed. Thank goodness Stiffman's door was soundproof.

   He was...oh...so brazen and so masterful. He could torment her nipples
for hours if he wanted and she couldn't stop him. She was just a weak
little girl who needed a man to show her the path to paradise.

   As you can see, Judy and Stiffman were both living out major fantasies.

   Judy's only thoughts were of Stiffman's hand doing whatever he wanted in
her panties and his lips and tongue commanding her nipples. Was such
intimate pleasure possible?

   Judy was moaning and whimpering for several minutes, trying to hold back
her cum. Enjoying the process too much to rush to climax. Stiffman was
sensitive to that. He would bring her to a leaky peak, then ease up. He
would take her near the edge again; then draw back. She held her head up,
eyes wide, to observe her carnal master. He was magnificent. Lean and
fit. Handsome and hung. And so skilled.

   Her first man. Rammer was an appetizer. This, she hoped would be seven
courses.

   No one can hold back from an erotic onslaught forever. Judy's whimpers
told Stiffman that this was the last go-round for teasing.

   So the bad boy did something Judy never expected. He pulled only the
front of her panties down, exposing her pricklet and little bag. Then he
straddled her knees and gently and lovingly took her fiery popsy into his
wet mouth and began to run his tongue around her little velvet knoblet.

   Poor Judy. That was all she could endure. She squealed and began to pump
hot girly juices into her boss's loving mouth. Stiffman devoured the creamy
treat greedily, tonguing Judy's privates throughout her ecstasy to prolong
her pleasure.

   Judy liked Mr. Stiffman.

   And Stiffman liked Judy.

   Good employee-employer relations are an essential part of business
success.

   Stiffman licked Judy until her spasms quieted, then he moved up to give
her a big, cummy kiss, holding her in his arms and encouraging Judy to do
the same for him.

   Their kissing was exquisite and lengthy. And very exciting to them
both. Judy's prick was stiff and red again as Stiffman rubbed his thick,
hot weapon against her pretty jewel.

   Judy realized that the poor man had had no relief, so she begged for the
privilege of taking his cock into her mouth -- her first.

   Stiffman insisted that the privilege was his, then he sat on the side of
the bed and spread his legs wide enough to allow the kneeling pantyboy
complete access to his considerable assets.

   Judy blushed as she thought about her situation. She was kneeling before
a man's cock. Her panties, which were her only garment, were soaked with
her cum and had been pulled to mid-thigh. Her bare bottom was resting on
the back of her calves and her pricklet, despite some recent, delightful,
sticky explosions, was throbbing with want.

   Well, that would have to wait! Judy's priority was to relieve her poor
boss/lover's obvious needs.

   It was a big step, taking a man's cock in one's mouth for the first
time. Big step. Judy gave the object of her affection a good look-see. Big
and hot. Lots of goo leaking from the pretty peelips. Two blue, prominent
veins. Big testicles in a large sack. Heavy with juices.

   Judy knew her destiny. A pantyboy always knows, though she may deny it
for some time.

   She pressed on. Judy rubbed and inspected and fondled every square
centimeter of Stiffman's first-rate equipment. Stiffman demonstrated
amazing cum-control as the pretty sweetheart's gentle fingers caressed his
parts. But even a cocksman as experienced and skilled as Stiffman couldn't
endure too much more.

   Fortunately for them both, Judy began to involve her mouth in her pubic
explorations.

   The lovely angel kissed the pink, sopping arrowpoint of Stiffman's
weapon. For the thousandth time, Stiffman thanked his father for retiring
early and putting him in charge of what was then a tiny, subsistence
lingerie store that catered to (if you can believe it) women! And Stiffman
thanked his own common sense for "repositioning" the store the way he
did. He was making nearly a million a year and fucking the world's
prettiest pantyboys whenever he felt like it. Which was all day every day.

   Why do men play golf when there are pantyboys everywhere eager for
"attention?"

   Judy extended her tongue and began to lap up the copious juices that had
formed along Stiffman's thick knob and the long shaft. Her tongue was wet
and enthusiastic and she was delighted when she made Stiffman moan. It's
good to get feedback and reassurance.

   Judy cuddled Stiffman's balls with her left hand as she kissed and
licked and sucked her man's cock. Almost as one would scratch an itch,
reflexively, she began to stroke her own little business with her right
hand.

   Stiffman said, "So good, Baby. So good. You're a natural. And so
beautiful!"

   A line? Maybe. But it enhanced an already delicious experience for Miss
Judy.

   The intimacy and dirtiness and tastes and smells drove Judy to savage
her own peener as she sucked Stiffman's mushroom with her great aplomb.

   Was she going to... Was Stiffman going to...

   Yes and yes. Judy's mouth was covering Stiffman's knob as he cried out
and came. Judy tried valiantly to swallow the entire "girl's big reward,"
but some dribbled out of her mouth onto her cheeks. That man could cum!! He
spurted his juices five times by Judy's count and her face was coated with
about half of her man's evidence of excitement.

   Judy's own popsy began to explode during Stiffman's third spurt, and she
pumped thick ropes of hot cummies onto Stiffman's bedspread.

   In that instant, Judy achieved a moment of clarity that few of us ever
attain. She knew the kinds of things she wanted to do the rest of her
life. Judy wanted to be a pretty, girlish, hot-dressing, sexy, submissive,
teasing, pleasing, man-loving, little pantyboy creampuff.

   And she hadn't even had a big, hot visitor in her bottom yet, though it
appeared that visiting hours could begin at any moment.

   Stiffman collected Judy into his arms and spent the next half hour
kissing her and telling her how precious and beautiful she was.

   No pantyboy can resist a loving man in full kiss-and-praise mode.

   Nor one who has decided to enjoy the pretty pantyboy's anal recreation
facilities.

   Stiffman began the sweet doll's deflowering process by laying her on her
stomach and removing her pretty panties completely. Judy lay there, naked
and wiggling her plump bottom provocatively. Would Stiffman just mount her
and fuck her immediately?

   Nothing so crude. Stiffman was a gentleman. He would eat her pussy
first.

   Stiffman knelt between Judy's spread legs and rubbed her bottom with his
massive hands. He was so big and strong, but so gentle. The man knew how to
love a sissy.

   Judy was panting and rubbing her re-stiffened poppet into the mattress
as Stiffman kissed her pretty bottomcheeks. When he parted her soft globes
with his manly thumbs and began to kiss and lick the warm inner folds of
her bottom, Judy squealed and thanked fate for delivering her to Stiffman's
tender care. When he dug his wet tongue into her anus, Judy left the
planet, just as her sweet cream left her pink bag.

   When Judy's pretty pussy was sopping from Stiffman's saliva, the
considerate gentleman entered the virginal pantyboy's pootie with two thick
fingers. Running them in and out. Stretching her. Opening her for his
cock. Then rubbing his fingers against her tender, girlish prostate.

   All the air left the room. Judy's throat constricted. Her body stiffened
as yet another sticky load left her sissy body. As she hurled juices from
her poppet, she felt her man mounting her from behind. He was going to put
his big thing in her! Right then. While she was cumming for goodness sakes.

   Ohhhhh.

   Judy felt Stiffman's weight on her then his cock was rubbing between her
plump buttocks. He rubbed his rammer to wet it with her sopping anal
regions. Then he aimed his weapon at Judy's magnificent anus and PUSHED.

   Judy screamed with equal parts pain and rapture. That big dong was so
much stiffer and hotter than that "simulator" she had used the night
before. And so much better. Stiffman paused to let Judy adjust to her new
"guest." When she croaked out a "Please sir, may I have more," Stiffman
twisted and pushed and pulled and made Judy and her bottom very happy.

   Judy loved being fucked.

   She couldn't wait to see where her new everything (name, gender,
clothes, personality, desirability, sexiness, sexual-orientation, and
girlishness) would take her through life.



   Chapter Seven -- Further Development of Retail Skills

   The next morning Judy's bottom was full of cum and her heart was full of
resolve to be the girliest girl and the best salesperson in the glorious
history of Stiffman's Intimate Apparel.

   It had been an exhausting night. Stiffman was a totally naughty
boy. Five times poor Judy's formerly virgin hole had been stuffed and
creamed.

   It was heavenly!

   But Judy was eager to show the world her new femininity, just as she had
shown a smitten Stiffman when she took his last big, sticky load in her
face at 7 a.m.

   Stiffman liked money almost as much as he liked pantyboy pussy, so he
would not detain Judy from her sales duties. In fact, when Judy had
showered, shaved, powdered, perfumed, accessorized and dressed, he pulled
her panties down and gave her a lovely, good-luck clitty-sucking to set her
on the path to sales success. Far better motivation and affirmation than
one could ever get from a lecture or an infomercial.

   Judy strode out onto the retail floor that morning with new, girlish
confidence. There was a whole world of men out there who wanted to take out
second and third mortgages so they could buy hugely overpriced lingerie
from a pantyboy, and she wanted to be the creampuff to sell it to them.

   Of course, Judy needed to call her Mom first and reassure her that she
was still in one girlish piece after a night with a master cocksman. The
two giggled like schoolgirls as Judy told Mom about the strange little
noises Stiffman made when he was cumming.

   "They're all little boys at heart, Judy," Mom said. "And we're their
toys."

   One of the nicest things about Judy's acknowledgement of who she was
would be a real bonding with her mother.

   Even the other salesgirls' heads turned when Judy clacked onto the floor
in her first three-inch heels. She hoped the seams on her fully-fashioned
black stockings with reinforced heels and toes were straight. She had
inserted a tampon in her cummy bottom and hoped that it wasn't leaking
mannish juices onto her purple miniskirt.

   Oh well, she thought. She had earned those mannish juices, so she had
the right to display them.

   When she reported to Nancy for her day's assignment, she was happy to
hear that she would spend the morning in the stockings and garter belt
department, and the afternoon in femininity instruction. Judy liked Jane
and she was eager to hone her sales skills.

   Jane greeted Judy warmly, with a sweet kiss and darned if that lumpiness
didn't return. It seemed to Judy that randiness and erections would be her
constant, lifelong companions. How lovely!

   Judy thought that Jane was about to take her back to the dressing rooms
for some "relief," but the store's doors were opening and it was time to
focus on business.

   Business. Judy was all business.

   Fridays were a busy day at Stiffman's. Guys buying lingerie for their
girlfriends for the weekend, perhaps? Guys buying lingerie for themselves
for the weekend? Or guys just wanting to ogle the lovely pantyboys?

   Anyway, by 10:45, Judy had sold over $3,000 in merchandise to guys who
just wanted to breathe the same air as Judy.

   Then Mr. Footman arrived.

   Jane greeted Mr. Footman very warmly. He was a Platinum Plus member,
having achieved platinum status the past 18 consecutive years, which meant
he had spent at least $2 million at the store. That's more than 11,400
pairs of stockings, garter belts and panties, the only items he ever
bought. Judy thought, "That's two items a day for 18 years. He must have a
lot of girlfriends."

   Uh huh.

   Jane introduced Judy to Mr. Footman and she blushed as she saw the
naughty look in his eyes.

   Jane said, "I believe Mr. Footman would like you to model his purchases
for him, Judy dear."

   That certainly appeared to be his intention as Jane rang up his
purchases.

   Judy was blushing when she led Mr. Footman to Dressing Room Five. The
way he was looking at her! Where did she get such power to cloud men's
minds?

   When they closed the door, Mr. Footman removed his trousers and took a
seat in the wingchair. Judy shyly peeked at his cock. It was cut, red and
very stiff. A nice, average, six-incher.

   Unsure of what was expected of her, Judy asked, "Would you like me to
try these stockings on for you, sir. Or is there some other way I can help
you."

   Footman smiled. "Just strip to your bra, panties, garter belt, and
stockings, Sweetheart, and sit on that chair across from me. I've bought
the stockings you have on too."

   Judy gulped a little. She was excited and a bit scared, though she knew
that all she had to do was scream and a security alert would activate,
flooding the room with assistance. She doubted she would need that kind of
help, though.

   Judy made her stripping into a little tease show, pointing her foot for
him as she stripped, showing little bits of herself at a time. Footman
enjoyed it very much.

   When she was down to her "undies," Footman beckoned her to sit across
from him in the other chair. "You're very lovely, my dear," the Platinum
Plus member said. "May I just hold your pretty feet in my hands and caress
them?"

   "No" didn't seem to be in Judy's vocabulary. Shyly, she extended her
stockinged feet to Footman's eager embrace.

   "Beautiful, just beautiful," he said as he stroked the seam along Judy's
right sole. "Has a man ever done this for you before?"

   "No sir," Judy managed to squeak out. It was amazing how aroused
Footman's loving attentions had made her. Footman was very good at foot
massage. Maybe he did have enough girlfriends for 11,400 items of lingerie.

   Maybe not.

   "My dear," he said, "I wonder if you could do something for me. I would
very much like you to rub my penis between your warm, stockinged feet until
I spurt my juices all over your little pretties. Would you do that for me?
I promise I'll make you happy after you do."

   That sounded so DIRTY! Just what Judy liked.

   She eagerly agreed, then got herself into a comfortable sitting position
where she could extend her legs and rub the man's stiff soldier between the
smooth nylon that covered her warm feet. Judy loved how Mr. Footman reacted
when she tentatively touched his hot shaft with her right toes. The man
loved it. When she added the other foot and rubbed the shaft between them
with a horizontal motion, she loved how he grunted and closed his eyes.

   It was fun!

   And Mr. Footman certainly seemed to be enjoying himself as well. When
Judy moved her feet up his shaft and began to slowly, sensuously rub the
gooey knob between her stockinged soles, Footman cried out. Big gushers of
goo leaped from his peehole and drenched Judy's toes and feet. His sperm
was so hot that Judy almost pulled back, but she was a professional sales
representative of Stiffman's Intimate Apparel. So she rubbed the man's big
mushroom between her feet until the entire pint of hot juice had been
expended.

   Judy kept rubbing until Footman's eyes opened and he asked her to
stop. "That was delightful, Darling," he said. "You're a perfect angel,
made for love."

   Wow. A few days ago, she had been Harold, a perfect loser, made for
failure.

   Footman took Judy on his lap and kissed her deeply, with lots of
tongue. He reached into her panties and, feeling her neediness said,
"Please take your stockings off, Honey, and give them to me. Then I'll make
you happy, as I promised.

   Judy hoped that Mr. Footman would fuck her. Goodness knows, she felt as
if she needed it. But he had other plans.

   Mr. Footman had a special bag for the cummy stockings. Judy was about to
put on a fresh pair when he said to her, "No, Dear. Just lie on your back
on the bed."

   Judy would have felt girlier if she had worn her stockings for the
anticipated fucking, but Mr. Footman WAS a Platinum Plus member.

   Like the little tramp that Sandy, Amy and I know Judy is <giggle>, she
spread her legs in invitation to Mr. Footman. But he stood at the foot of
the bed and began to caress her bare, right foot.

   "So delicious," the foot connoisseur said. "An excellent manicure and a
lovely shade of nail polish."

   Then he brought her foot to his mouth and began to kiss, lick and
suck...no make that "adore"... each toe.

   Holy moley! What was the number of the truck that hit Judy?

   What was that crazy, wonderful man doing? He was worshiping her
feet. VERY well. It felt so... Oh. Judy couldn't be cumming just from
that. But he was so... Oh. She WAS cumming. Hard. Wrenching. Filling her
panties with hot, sticky spurts. How scrumptious! How unexpected.

   When Judy had calmed down, Footman asked that Judy remove her
panties. She scooted out of them and he bagged them for "home use" as
well. Then, finally, he did something "normal." He licked and sucked up
every drop of cum from Judy's privates and then gave her a thoroughly
delightful prick licking until she came, squealing, in his mouth.

   Judy figured that there was no limit on the time a Platinum Plus member
could "occupy" a salesgirl, and she was right. The nice man only asked that
she put on a pair of tan stockings and, while lying on the bed on her
stomach, reach back with her feet and give Footman's cock a good rubdown,
as he viewed her seamed soles. That went on very pleasantly for about 20
minutes until Footman gasped and blew another gusher onto the pretty girl's
footsies.

   Same drill. Bagged cummy stockings. Big kiss. Then Footman went home and
Judy went off for her lunch break.

   It was an odd place to work, but it had its rewards, including the two
one-hundred-dollar bills Footman slipped into Judy's bra as he kissed her
goodbye.

   If you have to work, Stiffman's is a good place to do it.

   The afternoon was spent with Karen, a lovely sales associate from
"sleep"wear, who gave Judy some excellent instruction in make-up technique
and hair styling.

   She also gave Judy some useful answers to questions Judy had been
pondering.

   "Of course we're allowed to date the customers, Judy," Karen said during
a mid-afternoon "milking break."

   Karen waited until Judy had finished tickling Karen's testicles and
stroking her knoblet until she spunked. Then, as Karen began to run two
lubed fingers in and out of Judy's sweet little "pussy," she said, "We're
encouraged to date customers. The girls, management and the customers are
all part of a wonderful community here. The customers are very good to the
girls and we're good to the customers. Some of the girls even marry the
customers. Most of them."

   Oh. Judy's pricklet twitched at that. She had never thought about how
wonderful it would be to be a man's bride! His possession for
life. Complete submission to him as her lord and master. And to be in a
wedding gown -- the beautiful center of the universe's
attention. Followed by a honeymoon where she would do every dirty thing her
husband asked.

   Judy's poor balls exploded as she pictured herself as a wife. Someday,
Judy will marry a man. Amy, Sandy and I all will. Goodness knows we've had
thousands of offers. Sooner or later, we'll each accept one.

   At that moment, marriage was a lovely, exciting idea for Judy.

   That night, Mrs. Strokewood set a pattern for their future together by
helping Judy practiced her make-up technique and gave her some good tips on
feminine mannerisms.

   Mrs. Strokewood was deliriously happy to have a sweet, lovely daughter,
instead of the schlumpy son she endured for many years. Mother and daughter
took to each other as they never had as mother and son.

   Judy even encouraged Mom to "girly herself up" a bit too. She let Mom
borrow some of her pretty lingerie and darned if Mom didn't look good in
it. Surprising that a woman would make the effort to look girly, isn't it?
But Judy was a good influence on Mom too.

   The next day, a Saturday, Judy worked her first shift in "sleep"wear (as
if there were much "sleeping" going on when that lovely stuff was teasing
some poor man's libido).

   Her supervisor was the lovely Mary, who told Judy that she was sure that
her department's revenues would go up with Judy working there.

   How sweet!

   And how true. The men were drawn to our little heroine like oversexed
flies and the babydolls were flying off the shelves. Judy was doing
straight sales, teasing the customers, but not pleasing any Gold or
Platinum Card holders

   At around 11:30, Mr. Hung arrived. Judy watched him shift overpriced
item after out-and-out ripoff into his shopping cart, then wheel it to a
checkout station.

   Judy mentioned to Mary two very different observations about Mr. Hung
from the last time she had seen him. "He's smiling, Mary. And he's very
pale."

   Mary whispered to Judy, "When he makes those purchases, he goes into
Platinum Club status. He's dreamed of that for years."

   That made sense to Judy. "But why is he pale?"

   Mary said, "The rumor is he's been selling everything he owns to go
Platinum. Including spending a LOT of time down at the local blood bank."

   Oh.

   There was a man who really loved pantyboys.

   Mary rang up Mr. Hung's purchases, then presented him with his Platinum
Card. The man was crying. Bawling. And his pants were severely tented. Judy
wondered where he had found enough blood left in his body to produce such a
stiffie.

   Judy felt as if she were part of the store's history. Especially when
Mr. Hung said, "I would like Judy to 'test drive' my purchases, please."

   As always, what a salesgirl at Stiffman's did with a customer or refused
a customer was her call.

   Judy's panties bulged as she gave Mr. Hung a kiss, grabbed his arm and
escorted him to Dressing Room Two.

   Her first test drive for a new Platinum Club customer. Judy was very
proud, but she hoped that poor Mr. Hung didn't overexert himself.

   Mr. Hung's aspirations for his first test drive proved to be quite
modest. He handed Judy a perfect, tiny, pink babydoll; pink,
fully-fashioned stockings; the world's frilliest, pink garter belt; and
pink, strappy, sandal mules with five-inch stiletto mules [panties were
conspicuous by their absence] and asked her to put them on for him.

   Judy was blushing a little about getting naked in front of a man she
hardly knew. But then she thought, "I'm a pantyboy. I show men my goodies
and then invite them to enjoy me."

   Even then, Judy understood the Pantyboy Code.

   Mr. Hung watched the disrobing with great interest and removed his
shoes, socks and trousers concurrently.

   Since I've known her, Judy has been the biggest pantyboy teaser in the
world. So I'm sure she gave Mr. Hung a great show that day. When she got
her outfit on, she twirled this way and that, showing Mr. Hung what
financial ruin brings a man if he plays his cards right. She was stiff and
drippy and the babydoll was so short that Mr. Hung could see her pink
goodies. Her pretty bottom was exposed to the lustful man's attention as
well. Remembering her training, Judy saw where she was standing in relation
to the button she would push to call the paramedics if needed.

   Mr. Hung held out his arm and beckoned her to sit on his bare lap. He
had a very nice cock and he was an attractive man in his late 40s. Like
many Asian men, he was not overly hirsute, so few hairs tickled Judy's soft
bottom.

   Mr. Hung shuddered with pleasure when he felt Judy's bottom cover his
thigh. He had waited for this so long. Judy wanted to make the poor man's
first test drive one to remember. So she threw her arms around him and gave
him a sweet kiss. With lots of tongue. Mmmmmm. He liked that.

   Unfortunately, he liked it too much.

   Mr. Hung groaned, shuddered and covered Judy with a quart of hot cum. He
must have spurted seven thick ropes of creamy goo. Thinking quickly, Judy
put he warm hand on his shaft and pumped him sweetly during thee last four
globs.

   The poor man was so embarrassed.

   Judy was very consoling. Asked if she could "be with him" the next time
he came in" and all that stuff women say to guys who drop their cargo
before they get to port.

   She even rubbed his balls very nicely and asked if he wanted her to
"kiss his red knob" for a while.

   The man was very grateful, but said, "Thanks, but I need to rest a
minute."

   Moments later, Mr. Hung was on the bed, on his back, snoring peacefully.

   Judy was a little miffed that she was all dressed up and didn't even
spurt her own cream, but it was all in a day's work.

   Keeping her voice down, she telephoned Mary from the room to report on
developments.

   "What are you wearing, Sweetheart?" Mary asked Judy.

   Judy told her.

   "I'm on my lunch break," Mary said. "Dressing Room One is open."

   Judy got the hint. And she got two lovely ball-drainings (and gave two
in return) from her supervisor.

   Labor-management relations do not have to be contentious, people.



   Chapter Eight -- Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da, Judy's Life Goes On

   Judy settled in very nicely to life at Stiffman's. She's told me many
wonderful stories about her adventures as a successful salesgirl.

   She was especially proud of the way her Mom perked up and became the
sexy, attractive woman she could be. A woman with men circling her. Asking
her out. Making love to her. I'm getting ahead of the story, but
Mrs. Strokewood met and married a very hunky and nice man who fully
appreciated a woman who wore make-up, perfume, fully-fashioned stockings
and big heels.

   Sissies are a good influence on women. They raise the bar.

   Judy met a few nice men too. The same kind of men her Mom met. The kind
who adored her femininity.

   The store seemed busier than ever and one night when Mr. Stiffman was
giving Judy's perfect bottom a good porking, he told her that he was
convinced that she was a big part of the reason for making him even richer.

   Stiffman and Judy got together every three weeks or so for all-night
counseling. It would have been more frequent, but Stiffman couldn't
disappoint the other employees.

   Judy continued to excel in customer relations. Mr. Hung was worth a
snicker from all the salesgirls because he was known as the fastest gun in
the West. He would get himself naked and settled for a lovely test drive
with Alice or Emily or Helen, the girl would sissy up in her new frillies,
sit on his lap, touch his Johnson, then suppress a giggle as he lost his
load. Then he would stagger over to the bed and fall dead asleep.

   Mr. Hung needed a blood transfusion almost as much as he needed
pantyboys.

   I won't bore you by telling you about all of her experiences with
customers, but let's just say that they weren't all as passive as Mr. Hung.

   There was Mr. Buffley, for example. That Platinum Card holder bought
only very high, strappy, stiletto mules, and asked his "test drive"
pantyboys to wear only the shoes.

   Judy was a bit apprehensive about that, since she wasn't totally
confident as a "girl" and thought she needed girlish stockings and lingerie
to excite a man. Mr. Buffley seemed to think that a lovely, naked pantyboy,
augmented only by her make-up, earrings, nail polish, sexy shoes and
delicious, budding femininity, was all he needed.

   I've seen Judy like that, Honey, and it certainly took the wrinkles out
of my popsy.

   It revved up Mr. Buffley too.

   Judy told me that the first time she stood almost naked (except for her
pink heels) in front of Mr. Buffley, she was blushing all over her
scrumptious body. Her usually pink knob was almost purple with all the hot
blood that had engorged her tiny pricklet. Being naked was so DIRTY. And it
made her feel so submissive. A magnificent combination,

   The "bad" man called her over and sat her on his naked lap, asking her
questions as he tickled her poppet and her "pink purse."

   "Are you a good girl?"

   <Giggle>

   "Do you like older men?"

   <Blush>

   "Does it feel good when I rub you like this?"

   <Pant> <Gasp>

   "You're so lovely. Your nipples are so beautiful. May I kiss them as I
fondle your girlish 'pink parts'?"

   <Moan>

   <Squeak>

   <Squeal>

   <Spurt> "Oh!!!" <Spurt> "Mr... <Spurt> "Agghhh" <Spurt> "Buffley"
<Spurt> <Whimper> <Spurt>

   There was also Platinum Card holder Mr. Dickson, who brought his
18-year-old son Rodney along for a test drive with Judy.

   A bit weird, huh?

   Yeah, but not as weird as you might think. Mr. Dickson bought a LOT of
frillies that day, settled in to watch Judy strip and put her first outfit
on, then left Rod alone with Judy.

   Judy was a bit apprehensive for three reasons. One, she had never been
with a man that young. Two, she was apprehensive about someone that young
not knowing how to treat a delicate flower such as herself. And three, she
KNEW Rod, from high school. "Harold" (remember him?) and Rod had been in
some of the same classes in high school. Did he recognize her?

   Apparently not. All Judy saw in Rod's eyes was lust. No
recognition. Lots of lust.

   No wonder. Judy no longer looked like Harold. She no longer was Harold.

   Still, it was fun to watch someone from Judy's previous life aching to
fuck her.

   Judy was wearing a lavender bustier with garter straps that connected to
naughty, tan, seamed stockings. Her matching lavender panties were
stretched with her girlish excitement as she sissied back and forth in her
lavender, stiletto pumps, modeling herself for her "Platinum Prince."

   Steam was coming out of the young man's ears as he asked Judy if he
could see her pricklet, thus satisfying his curiosity about whether someone
that feminine could have a little "piece of pork."

   The poor young man was probably sincere when he asked "just to see it."

   Of course, when the little doll giggled and "reluctantly" peeled her
panties, Rod reevaluated his priorities.

   "Its..I mean, you're so beautiful," the stupefied lad said. "I never
thought..."

   A man's first sissy can imprint on his consciousness in ways he never
imagined.

   Judy was enjoying Rod's adoration...and his discomfort. She remembered
how Nancy wisely predicted things would go with a man new to sissies: He
would begin with, "Can I see it?" followed by "Can I touch it?" and
climaxing with "Can I suck it?" A man's curiosity about a sissy's popsy
will not be easily deflected.

   So far so good.

   Judy moved more closely to Rod. He was a nice-looking young man. And
very grateful to be with a sweet baby like Judy.

   "Do you like me, Rod?" the little teaser asked.

   <Gulp>

   "You can touch me if you want, Rod. I'm just a helpless girl and I
couldn't stop you from doing ANYTHING!"

   Despite his father's wise counsel about the endless delights of making
love to sissies, Rod was wrestling with the notion that consuming the
feminine darling inches in front of him would somehow be "gay." Then he got
smart.

   Rod laid his hand on Judy's teeny prick. He almost fainted when she
gasped with pleasure. He rubbed it a bit, then gasped when creamy, sticky
stuff oozed from her peehole.

   Judy was sexually aroused, but otherwise calm. Rod was becoming frantic
with desire for the submissive sweetie before him.

   Rod was surprised when he took Judy's pricklet in his mouth. Judy
expected it. But she liked it very much. The young man didn't know much
about cocksucking, other than what he had learned from observing Ashley
Hoover, his former girlfriend. He was already proud of the fact that, if
squeals and whimpers mean anything, he was more accomplished than Miss
Hoover.

   Judy loved the fact that she was Rod's first "special girl." She liked
his youth. And she especially loved a job where she got a six-figure salary
(plus tips) for wearing lovely clothes and getting her penis sucked.

   Judy was shuddering and cumming in very short order. Young Rod Dickson
seemed quite proud of himself for swallowing a full pint of sissy
cream. Judy, ever the polite one, returned the favor, then sucked her new
friend to a new stand.

   Judy got on her back, lifted her legs and told Rod where the lube was
and where it went. And what she hoped would follow his lubed fingers in her
pussy.

   That dream came true. And then, because Rod was 18, her dream came true
again. And again.

   It was a good thing most of the Platinum Card customers were in their
40s or older. If they were all Rod's age, the salesgirls would never be on
the floor making sales.

   The older men gave the girls nicer gifts -- pretty things like bearer
bonds and fully paid condos. But the young guys could certainly "bring it"
in the multiple-cum department.

   Judy decided that she could enjoy either younger or older men. But a
two-carat diamond was a nice tiebreaker.

   You're probably wondering whether Judy dated when she was working at
Stiffman's? Does Rush Limbaugh mock liberals?

   Judy was a very popular young lady, though she limited herself to three
or four date nights a week. She wanted to spend an evening or two with her
Mom, though Mom had gotten so popular with men, they had to coordinate
their schedules carefully. A night or two each week, she would "date" one
of the girls from work. Like many sissy relationships, Judy would be in a
white-hot love affair with Cindy in "shoes," for a week or two, then pick
up with Petra in "panties."

   Judy didn't just date customers. She loved to test the theory that she
could have just about any man she wanted. So she seduced a high-school
English teacher whom she had admired, the owner of a jewelry store (who
contributed significantly to Judy's ability to accessorize), then a man at
motor vehicles, who gave her a license to drive anything with wheels even
though Judy had no clue as to how to even turn an ignition key.

   Like the other girls at Stiffman's, Judy was pelted with marriage
proposals from all sorts of men. Rich men and poor men. Beggar
men. Thieves. Doctors. Lawyers. Even an Indian chief.

   The men, being men, all wanted to "possess" the pantyboys. The
pantyboys, being pantyboys, all wanted to be possessed. But by the right
man. And on the pantyboy's schedule, not the man's.

   In the year that Judy was at Stiffman's, there were 20
weddings. Stiffman took to closing the store at three on Saturday
afternoons because almost half the time, there was a wedding to which all
the staff were invited. Seeing an opportunity, Stiffman opened a bridal
department, knowing that an eager groom would be more than willing to buy
his sweetie the $6,000 gown that Daddy couldn't afford. A lovely side
effect for Stiffman was that a lot of Gold and Platinum Card holders bought
gowns for test-drives with their favorite sales professionals.

   Stiffman just couldn't lose.

   And, of course, every bride wanted her bridesmaids, who were almost
always fellow pantyboys. Judy had been in five weddings already when Nancy
asked her to be her maid of honor.

   Nancy. The fairest of them all and the head of the sales staff, she had
finally, at age 24, accepted the proposal of a suitor. Jeremy Bumworthy was
a self-made, 35-year-old, multi-millionaire who would have gladly signed a
pre-nup giving Nancy 99% of his assets. Nancy insisted that she only get
80%. She did, after all, love him.

   Nancy's selection of Judy as her maid of honor suggested to the pantyboy
community that she considered Judy to be Nancy's successor as the prettiest
single pantyboy in a 1,000-mile radius.

   Judy was thrilled and flattered. She loved weddings and wanted one of
her own. But not until she was around Nancy's ripe old age. Judy was only
19, for goodness sakes.

   Nancy was a lovely bride -- angelic almost -- and she seemed
supremely happy. The most unusual aspect of the wedding proved to be the
arrival of a guest who created a major stir among the pantyboys -- and
among the many admirers in attendance.

   In the rear of the church after the ceremony, Judy heard the other
bridesmaids buzzing about a handsome middle-aged man who took his seat just
before the ceremony began. Accompanied by two exquisite young women (?) in
summer Chanel suits, the man was Nick Nickerson, world-renowned publisher
of Panty Boy magazine.

   Rumors were flying: Nick was looking for his next cover girl. He was in
love with Nancy and was upset that she was marrying. He was there to see
his old friend Mr. Stiffman. He was thinking of marrying a pantyboy and
wanted to see what a pantyboy wedding was like. He was looking for a
pantyboy wife among the Stiffman's staff.

   The truth was that Nick just loved all things pantyboy and, having heard
of Stiffman's Intimate Apparel, asked Stiffman if he could visit. Rather
than travel alone, Nick brought along two creampuffs from his stable --
Lisa and Janet.

   Judy was somewhat attracted to Janet, a delicious little doll who was
only five-foot-four, but stood five-nine in her heels. Judy was thinking
about how sweet it would be to see Janet on her back with her pricklet
stiff and dripping and then...Nick spoke to her.

   The other girls were boiling with envy as Nick went directly to Judy and
said, "I couldn't take my eyes off you, Maid of Honor. You're an
exceptional beauty."

   Judy gulped. Well. That said it all. No guile there. Judy had never been
so flattered in her life. That was like Pavarotti calling you a great
soprano. She was blushing crimson when she thanked him. Then she went off
to join in the orgy of photography that marks a wedding.

   At the reception, Nick pressed his attentions on Judy again. Judy
enjoyed the envious stares of her sisters. Nick was cute and if he was half
the lover his reputation claimed he was...

   Well, of course they fucked. Lots. In fact the whole weekend. And on
Monday, Judy asked Stiffman for two weeks vacation so she could accompany
Nick to Fromage. She was going to be in a "pictorial" in Panty Boy, then
hang around the Panty Mansion for a while.

   Stiffman granted Judy's request, of course, but with some sadness. He
knew she would never return to her job. She was going to be a Panty Boy
star.

   Well she should be; and well she has been.

   If you've been following along, you know that, Judy, Amy, Sandy and I
have since helped millions of men spill barrels of cum, then moved in
together to a huge apartment in the best part of New York.

   The next story, "Sissy Stepmother," will tell you all about Sandy. Then
you'll get to FINALLY hear all about me, Cheryl, in "Slacker Moms." The
fifth and last story, "Sissies and the City," will be about our lives
together.

   It'll be a very "draining" experience, I guarantee it.

Please tell me what you think at gingerfred2005@yahoo.com.

My other stories on nifty:

"Acting Up" transgender -- control
"Panty Pleasures" transgender -- young friends
"Woodville" transgender -- tv
"Mothered" transgender -- control
"Panty Town" transgender -- teen
"Tradition" transgender -- teen
"Punished" transgender -- high school
"Panty Paradise" transgender -- teen
"Kevin and Molly Go to Camp" -- transgender -- teen
"Lovelife" -- transgender -- high school
"My Three Sissies" -- transgender -- tv
"Acting Out" -- transgender -- high school
"Explorers" -- transgender -- high school
"Pantied" -- transgender -- young friends
"Rebuilding" -- transgender -- teen
"The Au Pair" -- transgender -- surgery
"Birthday Girl" -- transgender -- teen
"Genes" -- transgender -- high school
"Brothers in Panties" -- transgender -- teen
"Coach" -- transgender -- control
"Intervention" -- transgender -- high school
"Winners" -- transgender -- teen
"Teased" transgender -- high school
"Irish Girls" transgender -- teen
"Finished" -- transgender -- teen
"Role Model" -- transgender -- high school
"Freedom" -- transgender -- high school
"Panty Fiesta" -- transgender -- control
"Experiments" -- transgender college
"One Fine Day" -- transgender -- teen
"Stiff Resistance" -- transgender -- teen
"Poker" -- transgender -- tv
"Panty Sabbatical" -- transgender -- high school
"Published" -- transgender -- tv
"Stripped" -- transgender -- high school
"Trained" -- transgender -- control
"Something Better" -- transgender - tv
"Fulfilled" -- transgender -- tv
"Private Matters" -- transgender -- high school
"Hard Times" -- transgender -- tv
"Girl Nights" -- transgender -- control
"Geography" -- transgender -- tv
"Somewhere" -- transgender -- high school
"Next Door Bride" -- transgender -- chemical (though I don't think it has
chemicals) 
"Service" -- transgender -- tv