From: pegan@aol.com (Pegan)

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories

Subject: Summer Vacation (tv) pt1

Date: 2 Jan 1995 17:21:03 -0500

There seems to be trend in tv/cd stories toward explicit sex, violence,

and mutilation. I don't pass any judgement on those who like that type of

story, but it is not what I seek. I do, of course, like stories in which

dressing is either encouraged or forced. This is one of my fanatasies The

emphasis here is on the clothes and immerging femininity.

This is the first fantasy that I actually wrote down.I wrote this story

about four years ago and have re edited it to clear up at least some of

the grammatical and stylistic errors.. I submitted it to two different TV

publishers. Niether one paid although at least one of them published it.

So if you have read this story in anyplace other than the internet you now

know that you've read a stolen edition.

I welcome comments.

p.

My Summer Vacation

by Pegan

It was one of those classical May days when all should have been right

with world. The sun was shining brightly, the air was warm with a promise

of summer, a sweet perfume of spring flowers drifted in the air, birds

were chirping merrily. It was day to gladden the heart of anyone, but I

was feeling rotten. I was angry, hurt, and humiliated.

I was returning from the construction site on the outskirts of town. Bob

and Charlie, my two best friends, and I went out there to try to get

summer jobs. The three of us would be entering our senior year in high

school in the fall. We planned to go to college together, to major in

civil engineering, and eventually to become partners on our own company.

We thought the job would give us valuable experience and give us a chance

to earn some much needed money.

Bob and Charlie, both of them rugged and athletic, were hired

immediately. I, with my slight build, was rejected. It was even worse

than that; I was scornfully rejected. "What am I supposed to do with

you?" the foreman snorted. "This ain't no place for dainty little wimp

like you."

He continued with his verbal abuse until I finally recovered from my

shock, turned and began to walk away. Jeers, catcalls, and contemptuous

laughter

from everyone there followed me. From everyone, including two women who

had jobs there--and from Bob and Charlie.

I had to talk to someone and there was only one person to whom I could

talk to: my friend Pam. I couldn't talk to my widowed mother. Although I

never doubted her love she just didn't understand boys or their problems,

regardless of how much sympathy she felt. My sister Alice, two years

older than me, viewed me with complete contempt and would have gladly

joined my tormenters out at the construction site. And, obviously, I

could notr talk to Bob and Charlie.

Pam is a wonderful person. I have always felt free to express my thoughts

and feelings with her with full confidence that she will be a loving,

sympathetic, understanding listener. I knew she would never betray my

secrets. She has lived next door to me for as long as I can remember, and

we have been friends since we were little kids. She has always been my

best friend.

I went to see Pam and told he about my experience at the construction

site. She held my hand as I gave her the details and gave it encouraging

squeezes when I faltered. After I finished she kissed me on the cheek.

"Poor Harold. It must have been terrible," she said sympathetically.

"It was," I admitted and I began to sob.

Pam comforted me with hugs and kisses. After awhile I stopped crying and

she dried my tears with her handkerchief. She took hold of my hand again

and held it firmly.

"Well, Harold, I'm certainly sorry that your feelings were hurt, but I am

happy that you won't be working out there. I know you wanted the

experience of working

of working at a construction site, but maybe it's just as well that you

won't be at the site. Personally, I didn't want you working there, and

I'm not even sure that civil engineering is the right career choice for

you. As for your money problem, I have a solution. Mother is needs help

in her shop, and I'm sure she would hire you if you applied.

"But...but, Pam, it's a lingerie shop," I stammered feeling very

embarrassed, "I can't work there!"

"Why not, Silly?" she asked with a laugh. "Mother needs help in the

stockroom and you need a job. If you take the job we can work together

all summer. Think how much fun that will be." "Besides," she continued

with a mischievous glint in her eyes, "Mother has an excellent health

program for her employees. So if anything happens to you, such as you

begin growing breasts due to handling too many brassieres, you can go to

the hospital for appropriate treatment. Like the crew of the Starship

Enterprise on Star Trek you can '...boldly go where no man has gone

before.'"

Pam lead me to see how silly my attitude had been. I applied for the job

and was hired. When I told Mother about the job she seemed a little

amused, but she also seemed pleased. She congratulated me for finding my

first job and wished me luck. Alice gave a characteristic snort.

On the first day of my summer vacation I was to become as an employee of

Monique's Lingerie Shoppe. When I entered the shop to begin my first day

on the job I was met at the door by Ms. Bonet, Pam's mother. Ms. Bonet

is strikingly attractive person with such a strong persona that I have

always felt intimidated by her. She took me to her office for a talk.

She gave me a warm welcome and told me that she was very confident that I

would do a good job. The warm welcome and expression of confidence made

me feel more at ease. After our talk she turned me over to Pam for

supervision and training.

I was thankful to have the job and delighted to have Pam as my supervisor.

I was, however, tremendously embarrassed. I doubted if handling panties,

bras, nightgowns and other items of women's intimate wear was appropriate

masculine employment. I also felt as if I were an intruder: in a place

where I didn't belong, seeing things I shouldn't see. Pam took great

delight in my embarrassment and kept adding to it. "Oh, Harold, look at

these! Aren't they pretty?" she would call. When I looked she would be

holding up a pair of lacy panties for me to see. At other times it might

be a sexy bra, or a teddy, or a nightgown. I don't think I stopped

blushing during my whole first week there.

After my first week my embarrassment somewhat eased. I had the

exhilarating experience of getting my first paycheck. The additional time

that I got spend with Pam was great. There were some problems, however,

and soon Ms. Bonet called me to her office. I entered her office meekly

not knowing what to expect. I was relieved to be greeted with a smile.

Pam, who was there too, was also smiling.

"Harold, first of all I want you to know how much I appreciate how hard

you've been working and how hard you've been trying to learn," Ms. Bonet

began. "But there is a problem. It's your lack of familiarity with

lingerie. You're making mistakes. Just yesterday, for example, when you

were asked to bring contour bras you brought padded bras; the day before

you were asked to bring bikini panties and you brought thongs. And there

have been other similar problems. I'm not scolding you. I know there's

no reason for you to know much about lingerie. I only want to bring the

problem to your attention, because I know from what I've seen of your

attitude that you will try to improve. Pam has agreed to tutor you to

help you become knowledgeable to a level appropriate to a lingerie shop

employee."

I began to blush again. Pam clapped her hands with delight and said,

"Ohhh, Harold, this is going to be so much fun! I hope you don't find me

too stern a school mistress, but I'll expect you to learn a lot, and I'll

give homework."

My tutoring began. Pam would, for example, select a number of bras and

teach me to identify different styles and the reason for the different

styles.

Each night I was required to take home catalogs and study them. Pam

proved to be a very demanding school mistress if not a stern one. She

would quiz me constantly.

"What's the difference between a padded, a contour, and a natural bra?"

"A padded bra has padding to increase the appearance of the breasts about

one cup size, a contour bra is lined to improve shape but not add size, a

natural bra molds itself to the natural shape of the breasts."

"Describe these panties."

"They're nylon bikinis, detailed lace, aqua."

Correct answers brought compliments, and incorrect ones brought scolding.

I was becoming such a diligent student that I was making few errors. I had

always been kind of an indifferent student, and receiving praise for my

learning was a new and exhilarating experience. I didn't know quite what

to make of this new information I was acquiring. It was a very strange

situation. I felt very much like a spy learning secrets of another

country. I felt myself growing much closer to Pam as she shared

information of these things so important to women. I became preoccupied

wondering what the women with whom I had contact were wearing.

Especially, I wondered what Pam was wearing under her dresses.

Things were going well. I was learning my lessons well and beginning to

feel at ease. My self-confidence continued to increase as a made still

fewer and fewer mistakes. This was a great feeling for a person

successes of any kind to boast about. Just as I thought everything was

great Ms. Bonet called Pam and me to her office again.I was very concerned

just as I had been the first time I was called to her office. There is

something about being called to an office that bodes of bad fortune.

Monique Bonet-much to my relief-greeted me with a big smile and warm

words. The three of us chatted for awhile. She tested me, and I

described and I identified the features of various styles of bras,

panties, and other items of lingerie. Ms. Bonet nodded with approval to

my responses.

"Well, Harold, your progress is excellent. I felt certain that it would

be. I have always considered you to be a boy of good character with a

great potential for success if motivated. It's obvious that you are

finding a sense of pride in yourself because of the good job you're doing

and all that you have learned about lingerie."

"Yes, I do feel kind of proud of myself," I admitted. I felt a little

embarrassed because I still thought that construction site was a more

appropriate area for me to be working.

"As pleased as I am with your progress I think that your development is on

a plateau. If you are to continue in adding to your knowledge and

understanding of women's lingerie a more radical form of training may be

necessary. It would be something like the lab periods you had when you

were taking physics."

'Wha...wha...what do you mean?

"Pam and I both feel that your knowledge of lingerie is too academic. We

want you to have more hands on experience. You've learned Pam's lessons

well; you've studied the catalogs and learned a good deal from them.

But you don't know the pleasures of wearing beautiful lingerie. You don't

know about the pleasure of looking in the mirror and seeing yourself

dressed in beautiful lingerie. You don't know the satisfaction of taking

care of beautiful lingerie."

"But...but Ms. Bonet, of course I don't! I'm...I'm a boy! How could I

know about those things?" I could feel my face burning with

embarrassment.

"Of course, you're a boy, Harold. But an intelligent boy, a boy who has

to now demonstrated a willingness to try new things. And we are going to

require it if you are to continue working here. Who knows? You may find

you're a boy who enjoys wearing a bra and panties, who may find

unexpected pleasure in sleeping in a silky nightgown. I wonder, Harold,

if you are such a boy."

"No! Boys don't wear things like that! I would never wear women's

clothing!

My face continued to burn with embarrassment. I felt that my masculinity

was under attack.

"Now, Harold, don't get so excited. Listen calmly to what I have to say.

I think-and Pam agrees-that you should begin wearing lingerie. You should

know what it's like to wear women's undergarments. It is the obvious next

step in your job training. And I think you would like them if you gave

them a fair trial."

Pam broke in, "Oh, please, Harold. Do it."

"But...but...but," I stammered.

"Harold, calm down," Ms. Bonet said.

Pam took my hand a squeezed it for encouragement; it helped at least a

little bit.

"As I told you, Pam and I think that you have learned about as much as you

can through her instruction and through studying catalogs. It is important

that you learn the pleasures of wearing it and the responsibility of

caring for it. We want you to wear lingerie for the remainder of the

summer. We want you to sample our merchandise: panties, bras, teddies,

garter belts, and everything else that we sell. We will provide you with

a nice beginning ensemble. If you want to add to it later on you will

have an employee's discount."

"But, Ms. Bonet, I'm a boy," I protested again but feebly.

Pam squeezed my hand again. "Harold, shhh. Mother and I know that you

are a boy." I sat back in the chair again and Ms. Bonet continued.

"We want you to wear lingerie at work and at home. During the night you

will sleep in a nightgown. When you're at home you can wear whatever you

choose over your undergarments. However, when you're at work you will be

wearing a slip and therefore you will have to wear a dress or a blouse and

skirt. You've probably noticed that all my other employees are required

to wear dresses or blouses and skirts. Until now I have made an exception

in your case because of your gender. This will probably give the term

'dress code' a whole new meaning for you.

I squirmed with embarrassment.

"Wearing a dress is optional although I think it would be better if you

did"

"But, Ms. Bonet, I don't have any dresses," I responded partly out of

indignation to her phrase "your dresses" and partly out of terror of what

awaited me.

"Of course not. Boys ordinarily do not have dresses, but I'm sure Alice's

dresses would fit you. Ask her to lend you one of her dresses."

I could just picture Alice's reaction if I were to ask her to lend me a

dress.

It wasn't a pleasant thought.

Ms. Bonet went on. "I'm sure that you know nothing at this time about the

care of fine lingerie. We will have to make up for your lack of

experience.

Pam and I will allow you to care for ours, and you are to ask your mother

and

Alice let you care for theirs."

Great. I should ask Alice not only to let me borrow one of her dresses but

to let me care for her lingerie.

"Well, Harold, you look as if I had bludgeoned you. Why don't you go home

now and think about it and talk it over with your mother. Let me know

your answer tomorrow."

"Yes, Ms. Bonet," I responded in a barely audible voice. I got up feeling

dazed and started to leave. Pam followed me out attempting to persuade me

to go along with what had been proposed.

I brought it up that evening at dinner. I had thought of talking to

Mother privately but finally decided that as I would eventually have to

deal with Alice that I might as well talk to both of them at the same

time. I didn't know what to expect from Mother. That is , I didn't know

if she would approve or disapprove, but in either case I knew that she

would be kind. I dreaded Alice's response, even though she had been

exhibiting less scorn and hostility recently.

Mother approved. "I think it is a very reasonable request. You do work

for a lingerie shop and you should learn as much about lingerie as you

can. I think if you wear and care for lingerie it will increase your

appreciation of women and help you to become a better son, a better

brother, and a better friend now, and a better husband in the future.

There's no reason that a boy shouldn't wear lingerie. I don't see

anything but good coming from this and encourage you to do this."

After Mother finished talking I braced myself for Alice's remarks. "I

agree with Mother. You've changed since you've begun your job, and the

change has been for the better. I've been watching you closely to

determine if the change was real. Now, I think that it is. You're

welcome to borrow any of my dresses, and I will be very pleased to have

you take care of my lingerie. I'll be glad to help you."

I was astounded by Alice's response. She hadn't spoken a kind word to me

in years. Mother wanted me to do it. I felt that I had to give in to Ms.

Bonet and Pam's wishes. I called Pam and told her my decision. She was

delighted. Whenever I did anything that pleased Pam I felt that I had done

the right thing. Pam instructed me to shave my legs and to prepare myself

for an exciting day. The next morning I reported to Pam. I had shaved my

legs as she instructed, but my attitude was one of trepidation rather than

excitement. I had trouble believing that I was allowing this to happen

and felt that I should put a stop to it.

"Well, I see haven't sissieed out," Pam said upon seeing me, "but by the

look of you I'd say that you're about ready to."

"Pam, this isn't right. I shouldn't wear lingerie."

"That's enough, Harold. We've been through all of this already. Now

strip!"

"But, Pam, I can't strip in front of you," I blurted. I felt mortified.

"Don't be silly. Don't you think I've seen naked boys before. Now strip!

I had never seen Pam so forceful before; I stripped quickly.

"I'll dress you today. Usually, only very wealthy women can afford the

luxury of having someone dress them, but I think every boy wearing

lingerie for the first time should have that luxury. We'll begin with your

panties."

Pam held up a panties for my inspection. They were pink hipsters. The

waist and leg holes were trimmed with lace and the material had a flower

pattern.

"These are my own and one one of my prettiest pairs. I want you to have

them. I want the first panties you wear to be mine. Knowing you're

wearing my panties may give you a little more courage."

Pam knelt in front of me, held the panties out, and ordered me to step

into them. She lifted them into place and than had me walk around and do

occasional pirouettes. She smiled with satisfaction and then pulled me in

front of a full length mirror.

"Look at how pretty you look, Harold. And don't they feel nice? Could you

ever be satisfied with jockey shorts again?"

I was astounded. I really did like the way I looked in them although I

was not ready to admit,even-perhaps especially-to myself. I rubbed my

thighs and buttocks and thrilled to their silkiness. My psychological

state was very strange and hard to articulate. Knowing I was wearing

Pam's panties gave me a feeling of security, but also a vague feeling that

I had surrendered myself to Pam. I felt that our relationship had been

altered; it would no longer be based on equality, but on Pam being

superior. It was like losing an old and dear friend and then meeting a

new person with whom you expected an even dearer and more enduring

friendship.

"I won't ask you if you like your panties, but while you're admiring

yourself I'll call mother. She'll want to watch your progress." My

diminishing masculine resistance caused me blush deeply but stopped any

protest. If possible, I blushed even more deeply when Ms. Bonet came in.

"Why, Harold, you look lovely in your panties. I never expected you to

look so good. Do you have a bra for him, Pam?"

"Yes, Mother, right here? Harold, describe this bra for Mother so she can

see how much you have learned."

"It's a pink crossover bra with floral lace. It has molded cups and

camisole straps. It's nylon and has a back hook."

Both women clapped their hands with delight. Pam ordered me to stick my

arms through the straps and and then she hooked me up in back. The feel of

the bra was very strange: stranger even then the panties. It could be

argued that women wore panties and other items of clothing defined as

being for women, rather than men only because of an arbitrary decision

made some time in history. Even now, after that decision was made, men

could wear panties as a functional part of their

From: pegan@aol.com (Pegan)

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories

Subject: summer vacation (tv) pt 2

Date: 2 Jan 1995 17:24:10 -0500

wardrobe if they chose to do so. But bras are as uniquely for women as

codpieces are uniquely for men.

Pam again placed me in front of the mirror. Both women watched me

intently as I studied my image in the mirror. Neither said anything but

both wore enigmatic smiles. Next Pam wrapped a pink lace garter belt

around my waist and then rolled sheer nylon stockings up my legs. As I

would be wearing my boy's clothes this day Pam selected a pink camisole

with lace trimmed bodice and hem and placed it over my head. Pam spent the

rest of the day selecting items of lingerie for me. I tried on corsets and

girdles, nightgowns and teddies, panties and slips. When it was time to go

home Pam said that I had everything that a well dressed girl should have.

And so I entered my home with my lingerie collection to an eager welcome

from Mother and Alice.

After arriving home I decided that my only hope for a peaceful dinner was

to agree to put on a fashion show that evening. I still had problems

with the idea of wearing lingerie especially wearing it front of my mother

and sister. But for a boy who had had a distant relationship with his

mother and a hostile relationship with his sister the fashion show was a

very heady experience. I received hugs and kisses. I received acceptance

and affection that I had never known before. I got compliments: "Oh

Harold, you're beautiful;" "Please lend me that lovely teddy;" "Harold,

that bra is just right for you."

After the show was over Alice took me by my hand and took me to her room

to select a dress. After trying on several dresses and skirts and blouses

Alice selected a floral print dress, with a white overlay color, and a

full skirt that swung with each step. It was a dress I had seen Alice

wear on several occasions, and I had always thought it was very pretty.

It felt very strange to now be wearing it myself. Alice took be by the

hand again and we sat down on her bed. She hugged me and kissed me on the

cheek and took my hand again.

"Harold, I just can't believe the change in you. Two weeks ago you were a

helpless nerd. Now you're a brother that any girl would love to have."

I felt a glow of happiness and began to weep with joy.

"I want you to know that you can borrow any of my dresses, but I think it

would be fun to shop for some dresses of your own. Don't you?"

"Yes, Alice. I'd like to do that."

"Do you want me to help you with makeup?"

"No!" I shouted angrily, apparently feeling a little male rebellion.

Alice patted me on the cheek soothingly. "I wasn't teasing, Harold.

I really thought you would want to try some. If you change your mind I'll

be glad to help you. Okay?"

"Yes, Alice. Thank you." I felt ashamed for having snapped at her after

all the warmth she had shown me. I thanked Alice for her help and her

dress and went to my bedroom. It had been a long and eventful day and my

energy was spent. I was getting ready for bed when Alice called up to me.

"Harold, why don't you put on one of my nightgowns and join Mother and

me?"

"I'll be right down!" I shouted.

I couldn't believe it. The thing that had always made me feel left out

more than anything else was their nightly "girl talk" sessions. They

would sit in the kitchen, usually in their bras and panties or their

nightgowns and talk late into the night. I could hear murmuring of their

conversation and their laughter. At times the loneliness seemed

unbearable. I selected a full length violet nightgown, with lace trimmed

bodice and hem, and spaghetti straps and rushed downstairs. The three of

us sat around sipping coffee, eating cake, joking and gossiping, talking

of world events and fashions. It was one of happiness nights of my life.

The session came to an end; we hugged and kissed and went to bed. I

slept deeply and peacefully.

The next morning Pam immediately noticed a change in my attitude. "You

look much happier and more at ease this morning, " she said. I told her

about my gab session with Mother and Alice.

"That's wonderful. Harold. I want you to associate pleasurable

experiences with wearing lingerie. You do enjoy wearing your lingerie

don't you?"

I hesitated but finally answered in a meek voice, "Yes, Pam, I do."

"Good! Now that you've overcome some your masculine resistance enough

to admit you enjoy women's clothes we can progress more quickly. I've

very pleased. I think effeminacy in a boy to be a real turn on."

The summer continued on and I continued to learn. Pam inspected my

lingerie I was wearing each morning and asked questions about the fit and

feel of each piece. My knowledge and appreciation of everything I wore

grew just as Ms. Bonet said it would.

I had to take proper care of my lingerie and it was decided that I care

for the lingerie of these four women as well. All four insisted that I

hand wash their bras and panties. I was most happy to comply with this,

not only because of their beauty and sensuousness, but also because I felt

it strengthened my ties to each of these women. I was learning the full

care of lingerie: not just laundering and ironing, but also sewing. I

began to feel that nothing else that I did more pleasing than taking care

of the lingerie. Especially when it was the lingerie of these four womeso

n I admired.

One day I was returning Pam's lingerie to her bedroom. I thought that she

was out and surprised to find her there sitting on her bed.

"Hi, Harold," she said. "Put my lingerie away and then come over and sit

by me."

"Hi, Pam." I was excited to see her and quickly did as she ordered.

"Are you happy, Harold? Do you enjoy wearing women's clothes? Do you

enjoy taking care of our things?"

"Oh yes, Pam. I like everything that I've done this summer."

"Do you love me, Harold?" she asked as she moved her hand under my skirt

and stroked my thigh.

"Yes, Pam," I responded nervously.

"Are you a virgin, Harold?" she asked stroking my thigh.

"Yes, Pam," I answered after hesitating and growing more nervous.

"Relax Sweety. Lie down on your back. Relax. Trust me. I'll be very

gentle with you."

I lay down as she instructed. She caressed me and continued to softly

speak assurances to me. As I began to calm down she raised my skirt and

lowered

my panties.

"Why, Harold, these are the panties I gave you on the first day you

dressed in

lingerie."

"Yes, Pam. They're my favorite pair. Because they were yours."

"That's very sweet, Harold."

After I became very aroused by Pam's gentle foreplay she mounted me and

after some moments of ecstasy she took my virginity. We lay in each

others arms for awhile. Then she raised my panties and lowered my skirt.

"Now you are a man, Honey," she said and kissed me on the lips.

Living at home became different. Before this summer my mother and Alice

had always been careful of how they were dressed in my presence. I had

only on very rare occasions caught an accidental glimpse of them in their

lingerie. But, with me dressed in women's underwear all the time and

wearing dresses most of the time I was home they both became more casual

about how they appeared in front of me, and I grew casual about how I

appeared in front of them. It all seemed very natural. I had not

incestuous longings for either of them, but the sight of beautiful women

in their bras and panties was very pleasing.

The summer was going well for me. For the first time in my life I was

receiving a lot of favorable attention. My home life with my mother and

sister was delightful, my new relationship with Pam filled me with a sense

of peace and security, and I even looked forward to being in the company

of Ms. Bonet-although I still felt intimidated by her. I continued wear

boy's outer garments when not at home, the Bonet's, or the shop, but I

wore women's undergarments at all times.

One Monday morning I was again summoned to Ms. Bonet's office. I didn't

know what to expect. I felt there was nothing further that she could ask

of me to further my feminization. As I entered the office I saw Pam and

another woman who I had never seen before. I hesitated.

"Come in, Harold, don't be shy." Ms. Bonet turned to the woman I didn't

know and said, "This is Harold, the boy I was telling you about. Harold,

this Mlle.

Gallantiere, the president of La Chere Femme Lingerie Company.

"Bon jour, Harold. You look very pretty in that dress."

"Hello, Mlle. Gallantiere. Thank you," I responded blushing.

"Harold, please take off your dress. Mlle. Gallantiere wishes to see you

in your lingerie. Walk around the office for us, please."

I did as requested but with a good deal of reluctance.

"Thank you, Harold," Mlle. Gallantiere said. "You walk very gracefully,

and you look lovely in that slip. Will you take the slip of for me now,

please, I wish to see you in your bra and panties."

I took of my slip and continued to walk around the room. I felt very

strange doing this in front of a women I didn't know, but I was much

pleased with her compliments.

"Notice, Mlle., that Harold is wearing no padding. We have made no effort

to pass him as a girl. He is simply a boy who looks pretty in lingerie."

"Oui, I agree," said Mlle. Gallantiere. "That is what we want. There

should be no doubt that he is a boy."

I had no idea what they were talking about, and why it was important that

it be known that I was a boy. But I was felt certain that it had nothing

to do with me being given my pants back.

"Harold, please sit down," said Mlle. Gallantiere. You are probably

wondering what's go on, n'est pas?" As you probably know Ms. Bonet is the

exclusive dealer for La Chere Femme lingerie in this city. We talked at a

fashion show last week and our conversation lead to a discussion of

advertising. I told her that I was looking for a fresh idea to advertise

my line. All the lingerie companies hire beautiful women to model their

lines. Indeed, these models are so beautiful to begin with that beautiful

lingerie does not enhance their beauty dramatically enough. The obvious

solution to the problem is to have a boy as a model. Ms. Bonet told me

about you. In your boy's clothes I imagine you are a rather ordinary

looking boy, but in lingerie you're lovely. And as you seem to love your

lingerie so much I think you are the right boy to be my model."

"I would consider it a favor if you did this for us, Harold," said Ms.

Bonet, "and I think it would be an exciting experience for you. Just

think of the thrill of modeling for the most fashion conscious women in

this area."

Mlle. Gallantiere interjected, "Our slogan will be 'Lingerie so lovely it

brings out the loveliness in men.' If it's a successful here as I think

it will be it will become our international advertising campaign. Pam

told me that you are uncertain now about career plans; this could give you

the opportunity to have a career as a lingerie model."

"But Mlle. Gallantiere, Ms. Bonet, I don't think I want a career as

lingerie model.

The idea of modeling in front of the most fashionable women in the area

scares me. It's not right. Boys shouldn't be doing those things."

"Oh, Harold," said Pam annoyed, "are we back to this? You have given us

the same whiney excuse every time we've tried to advance your training.

If flaunting your masculinity is so important to you than go home and

change your clothes. I'll ask your mother to never permit you to wear

anything but boy's clothes again."

"No, no!" I blurted in a state of near panic "please don't do that. I'll

do the modeling, and I'll never balk at your requests again."

"All right, Harold. It's all right. You won't lose your lingerie this

time. But if you are disobedient again you very well may," Pam said.

Pam smiled and wiped my tears. Mlle. Gallantiere and Ms. Bonet smiled,

too. I felt embarrassed. My reaction to Pam's threat erased any lingering

doubt that the women might have had about my wanting to wear women's

clothing, but I also had pledged absolute obedience in exchange for being

permitted to do so. And I could no longer try to tell myself that I was

an ordinary masculine boy who was wearing women's clothes only because of

special circumstances. I sighed audibly.

"Ah, Harold, why are you sad?" asked Mlle. Gallantiere. "Any boy given

the opportunity to wear lingerie would not willingly go back to wearing

boy's underwear. Do not be embarrassed because you're discovering the

joys of femininity."

Mother and Alice were thrilled when I told them about the upcoming fashion

show. They spent a lot of time helping me to improve my walk. Just about

every evening I gave them a mini fashion show. As I quickly modeled my

own lingerie doing the shows Mother and Alice lent me theirs. I found

wearing their lingerie very exciting and I felt even more closely bound to

them. I remembered the first time that I wore Pam's panties and how close

it made me feel to her.

The day of the fashion show came and I was terribly nervous. Mother had

to give me one of her tranquilizers. I knew that all the women who were

going to attend the fashion show would knew that the model was going to be

a boy. But I still was afraid that they might be openly contemptuous of

me.

I, also, felt very uncomfortable about being dressed by a woman whom I

had not met. But she, Yvette, quickly put me at ease. She was

sophisticated and professional and helped me enormously. As a final bit

of encouragement Yvette sprayed me with some of her perfume for good luck.

Finally, my cue came came. I walked out not knowing what to suspect. I was

wearing a matching bra, panty and garter belt. They were all a metallic

silver with lace trim. I wore sheer nylons and three inch heels and

carried a slip that matched my ensemble. My entrance was met with

silence. I felt terrible. I held the slip up to my shoulders. The

silence remained. All of a sudden there was a burst of applause. I felt

relieved with this show of approval. Such acceptance was a very rare

thing in my life. The show went on and I modeled delightfully lacy

teddies, sexy nightgowns, lovely camisoles. It was such a delight to wear

such wonderful garments; it was such a delight to be so accepted. I

overheard many of the comments. "He's so cute." "I'm going to begin

dressing my son like that." "My husband complains that I always give him

neckties for his birthdays. He'll be surprised this year!" "I'm bringing

my boy friend in tomorrow to fitted for a full set of lingerie!"

Let me say parenthetically that for the following weeks the number

entering the shop increased dramatically. Sheepish looking men in the

company of women; embarrassed men alone with gift certificates, some very

agitated men who stammered requests to use the fitting rooms. Oh, yes,

some men who seemed delighted to be there. Ms. Bonet quipped, "If this

keeps up I may after open a men's department."

After the show was over I was presented a huge bouquet of roses. I was

hugged and kissed by all the women connected with the show. Many of the

women from the audience asked to be photographed with me.

I'll pass through the rest of the summer's events quickly.

My developing effeminacy was not only accepted by the girls and women of

the town but was actively encouraged. This be itself would have easily

compensated for any regrets for losses of my male role and privileges I

might of felt. As a male willingly taking on a feminine life style seemed

to give me special status among them.They were very pleased that a male

showed such interest in things important to them. But even without this

wonderful feeling of belonging, finally, I found the feminine life style

infinitely more pleasurable and satisfying. Perhaps being a male gave me a

greater appreciation for my new life style because I had tried to live by

male standards for so many years.

Ms. Bonet's customers who originally felt uncomfortable-even resentful-at

my presence now were pleased by it. Many of them wanted my appraisal of

how they looked in a new bra, or new panties, or some other item of

lingerie. They felt that I would see them from both a male and a female

point of view. Some even wanted my assistance in the fitting rooms. Can

you imagine fitting a beautiful woman for a new bra? My training for

fitting bras is a tale by its self.

At work and at home I was in a state of euphoria. Other times, however,

were miserable. The males of the town tormented me. I was jeered at,

punched, pushed: physically and mentally abused. My chief tormenters were

my erstwhile friends Bob and Charlie. After an especially bad session I

came home crying. Alice and Pam were there and comforted me.

"Don't worry, Harold. I think it will end soon," Alice said.

"Why? What do you mean?" I asked.

"Shhh. Just relax. It'll end soon."

The next morning Bob was found in the park. He was sitting on the

equestrian statute of Glenda Smith a settler of the town local heroine.

He was astride the horse behind the her with his arms fastened around her

waist. Bob was wearing a cowgirl outfit and was fully made up. A sign

attached to his back said, "I teased Harold." He was finally released but

not until the local television news reporter and a reporter from the local

newspaper filmed him. Bob was featured prominently in both that evening.

After that the abuse slowed down but did not stop. Three days later

Charlie was found downtown with his handcuffed around street light

pole.Charlie was wearing a bra, panties, garter belt, stockings, and high

heels. His hair had been bleached blonde and he was heavily made up. His

ears were pierced and he wore a pair of gaudy earrings. He looked like a

hooker. He, too, had a sign attached identifying him as one of my

tormenters. And he, too, made the evening news.

Charlie's make up, by the way, were cosmetics developed by one of Ms.

Bonet's customers: a chemist. They are experimental cosmetics designed to

be long lasting. She states that if not removed within one hour of

application they should not wear off for six months.

The word was spread around town that I was under the protection of women

and that any harassment of me would be swiftly punished. All the

harassment stopped. My only regret was that I never found out what

punishment would have been dealt out to the next person. I asked Alice.

She chuckled and said, Perhaps Pam will tell you after you get a little

older."

I have now begun to wear make up and I am becoming reasonably skillful in

applying my own. My hair is becoming long enough to style.

Mother began to encourage me to develop my domestic skills. I now take

care of all the household chores.I am also personal care skills such as

helping them dress and brushing their hair My favorite job is caring for

Alice and mother's clothing. Especially their lingerie, of course. Ms.

Bonet and Pam permit me to perform the same role for them. I can't think

of anything more pleasant than being a boy dressed in women's clothes and

being in service to women. Pam is very pleased with my development. She

wants me to be happy in my futrue role as Mr. Pamela Bonet.

So, as you can see, my summer has been very educational. I have learned a

life style that should fill my life with contentment. How could a boy

possibly be happier?

And that's how I spent my summer vacation.