> TOUCH OF SATIN

> by Terry P

The college boy strutted jauntily down the street, the classified

ads propped under his arm. Summer break had started, and this

freshman was looking for a good job. He felt he would have no

trouble, he had a year of college and was looking in the store

windows, confident that he was the most qualified for the job,

any job, that he was somehow superior to the locals,and

especially the girls he saw working in the shops and restaurants.

What could they offer that he couldn't do better. After all, he

was a man, a college man.

He entered the small shop, "A Touch Of Satin", after seeing the

tiny help wanted sign placed suspiciously in an inconspicuous

corner of the window. Typically stupid, just like a woman. The

store, a small boutique, was new, the floors covered with boxes

and shelving, the assembled shelves stocked haphazardly with an

assortment of merchandise, woman's stuff he imagined. The manager

of the store stood to one side, looking pensively at the workers

putting the store in order. She was tall, her figure beneath the

the severe business suit was trim, but uninviting. She wore large

horn rim glasses, no makeup, and her hair was pulled back in a

shapeless bun.

Nibbling distractedly at a pencil, she jumped, startled, when he

brashly announced that the job was filled. She looked at him,

appraisingly.

"Why should I hire you?"

The boy, cockily, said that he was the best man for the job,

better than any of the simple minded girls he had seen in the

neighbouring stores. She said nothing, her grip on the pencil

tightening perceptibly, the knuckles whitening briefly. Unfazed,

the boy brashly asked about the salary.

The woman replied, "Its adequate. There are a few forms for you

to fill out, and an employment contract for you to sign."

The boy filled in the forms without reading them.

"Be sure to read the dress code before you sign the contract"

The boy nodded, signed his name with a flourish. He was always a

sharp dresser, one of the best dressed guys at the house.

"Be here at nine sharp tommorow."

He left the store nodding confidently. As the door closed behind

him, the womans's fingers gripped the pencil, and it broke with

a loud snap. Her eyes behind the glasses steely and determined.

She nodded to herself, a faint smile on her lips.

The boy walked into the store the next morning. He wore his best

sport coat, and his fraternity tie knotted around his button

down oxford shirt.

"I'm here, how does this outfit strike you? The dress code is,

I'm sure, satisfied"

"You obviously didn't read the contract closely" the woman's

voice was a husky purr. He stared unbelievingly at the woman. He

couldn't accept what his eyes were telling him. The womans hair

once mousy in the tight bun was full and thick, teased into a

sexy red mane. The figure hidden before by the business suit was

lushly revealed by the tight leather outfit she now wore. Her

legs, long and deeply tanned, were fully displayed by the short

tight skirt, her breasts full in the low cut leather blouse. The

boy just stared ahead.

"This is after all a fashionable boutique, and this is a binding

contract." The boy, still off balance, tried to get control.

"Now hold on here."

"You hold on sweetie, you signed the contract, and we are going

to enforce it. Right girls?" At the sound of her voice the

backroom door flew open, and two tall, strong looking women came

in. They said nothing, stood at attention, their eyes devoted to

the woman.

"Our new apprentice didn"t read his contract. What a bad little

boy he is". The student turned to leave, was stopped by strong

hands clamped to his arms. He found suddenly he couldn't move.

"Read him the dress code". One of the girls obediently read the

clause in the contract.

"The employee shall dress so as to satisfy fully the employer.

The employer shall have full authority and discretion as to what

constitutes satisfaction"

"You see, what you are wearing does not, repeat, not satisfy me.

Girls, take our little helper and dress him to satisfy me."

The girls pulled his arms up behind his back, helplessly he

followed them into the backroom. There they shackled his arms

above his head to the hooks conveniently set in the oak beam of

the ceiling. A gag was roughly shoved into his mouth. He was

helpless. He watched, astonished, as they pulled out long knives

sharp and gleaming in the harsh light of the room. They moved

towards him, and cut the clothes from his body. His anger was

tempered by relief when they put the knives away without harming

him. Now naked he stood shamed and silent. One of the girls began

to spread thick white lather over his legs, and he watched them

begin to scrape it from his legs with razors. His face grew red

when he saw the smooth skin the razors left. The girls shaved

every inch of his body smooth. He felt the rinsing water course

over the now smooth skin. Next one of the girls grabbed the back

of his head and pulled his head back, while spreading a smelly

cream over his neck and face. He felt it burn briefly, and then

the girl rinsed it off. The girl traced a long nail across the

smooth skin.

"This stuff works fantastic. not a sign of beard. But then our

little boy had little more than peach fuzz anyway." Crimson, the

boy stood silent. Next the girl began to pluck at his eyebrows

with an electric pair of tweezers. He felt the brief snap as she

worked her way along the brows.

The girl cooed softly "Oh what pretty brows, so thin and fine"

The girl unclamped his hands briefly, sat him down, and strapped

his wrists to the arms of the chair. Then she glued long acrylic

nails onto his own, filing them into sharp, long talons. His face

was scarlet as he watched her paint them a bright, bright red,

the toenails soon following suit. She then stood him up. He made

no attempt to resist, just stood there, shocked and embarassed.

He barely reacted when the girls placed a corset around his

waist, the satiny panels circling, and then narrowing his waist.

He felt the pressure as the corset was tightened, looked amazed,

and dazed as he saw his waist drawn in impossibly narrow. The

girls scarcely paused, stepped him into a tight pair of silky

panties and a sheer pair of silky hose, the fabric shiny and

smooth over the hairless legs. The shoes were next. A delicate

leather pump, with a high spike heel. He tottered on the heels,

the clicking echoing, mockingly on the tiled floor. Next the

girls applied a thin layer of cement to his now hairless chest,

and to his complete surprise, placed a realistic pair of

artificial breasts over his own flat chest. Once glued, the

breasts hung and bounced and swayed as if real. The girls then

slipped a lacy bra over the breasts. It held them up, gave them

shape, made them stand full and proud on his chest. Ashamed, the

boy looked away. The girls sat him down on the chair. One of

them gathered his hair and placed it in a tight skull cap.

Another began to spread the makeup carefully and expertly on his

face. He felt and smelt the foundation and blusher being applied,

as he kept his eyes clamped shut. He felt the mascara being

spread on his lashes, and then the liner and shadows on his

eyelids. He felt the girls brush the lipstick and lip gloss on

his lips, and smelled the sweet scent of the perfume as the girls

dabbed it behind his ears. Next he felt the brief stick of the

earings as they clung to his lobes, dangling and brushing against

the side of his neck. He peeked out and saw the wig, blonde and

long, its bangs swept high, the fall teased and thick.

They lowered it onto his head, pinned it securely into place. He

felt the strands brush against the back of his neck and the

crest of his shoulders. They stood him up before he had a chace

to see himself in the mirror. His relief was short lived, as the

girls stepped him into a tight sexy skirt, its sides laced,

showing an expanse of thigh. The blouse was full and silky,

bright in contrast to the skirt. A pair of colored leather belts

crossed his waist in a narrow crescent. The girls next slipped a

few shiny rings on his fingers. They stood him up, and slowly

turned him towards the mirror. He stared ahead. The woman entered

the room quietly. The boy stared ahead, unbelievingly.

The woman smiled, said in a low voice " Now I am satisfied." The

boy stared ahead, seeing but not believing. His face was smooth,

the makeup even and clear, the eyes somehow large and wide under

the long thick lashes and the fine cheeks were smoothly rouged,

and his lips were delicately drawn in a bright red shiny gloss.

The wig looked perfect and perfectly real, its gentle bell of

blonde hair framing the face. He looked astonished at the full

breasts pushing realistically against the silky blouse, and the

long nyloned legs perched on the high, high heels. The skirt was

tight, and the belts circled the tiny waist making it appear

feminine, against the comparative breadth of his hips. He looked

at his hands saw the dainty rings, the bright long nails. He

shook his head, felt the hair swing along his shoulders. He

couldn't believe what he was seeing in the mirror. He could

scarcely recognize himself. He saw a girl in the mirror, a sexy,

voluptous young girl. He looked at the woman.

"Now you are dressed to my satisfaction. You are free to go.

However, if you look around the room, you will see the video

cameras. A little tape has been made of your little adjustment. I

am sure the guys at the fraternity would love to see it. I am

sure they will wonder why you couldn't get away from some

helpless females. Even if they believe you, they will have their

doubts, and those doubts will be your downfall, my little helper.

They'll wonder about you, wonder if you are a little bit queer,

whether you wanted it. Now if you choose to stay and work here

for the summer, well, I will see that the tapes are destroyed. Do

we have a deal?"

"What choice do I have?"

"None, precious. Now get your cute lttle buns out in the store

and get to work. There are customers waiting."

The new assistant opened the door. The store was full of

customers. The store catered to an unusual clientle. There were

striking women, their clothes severe and dramatic. Young girls,

in bright styles came in, giggling. He noticed to his complete

surprise and relief that no one realized he wasn't what he so

very much appeared to be. He also noticed that some of the women

who came in the store were not what they appeared to be. They

were attractive in their designer clothing, and their high

fashion hairstyles, but something about them just wasn't right.

He realized they were men, men who dressed up as women. Queens as

the guys at the frat would say. He then realized to his complete

and utter shame, that he was a queen too, that he was more

feminine looking than any of the other "girls" in the room.

Shaken, he left the store. He wandered down the street,

forgetting temporarily how he was dressed. He heard whistles, and

catcalls, and suddenly realized that he was walking around, in

public, in a complete woman's outfit. He ran back into the store

as fast as his hi-heels would carry him. The woman looked at him,

told him to wait on the customers. He did, for the rest of the

day. At closing the woman motioned for him to follow her into the

back room. The new assistant did so, walking carefully on the

stacked heels. She perched easily on a countertop.

"How did my new shopgirl enjoy her first day?"

Squirming. the boy said nothing. She smiled.

"I am sure you will come to love it here. Don't you look nice in

your litttle fit. I approve. It satisfies me almost completely.

Now I suggest you satisfy me totally." At that she lifted her

skirt. Her legs were long and deeply tanned, and tapered

beautifully to her full hips. " Now on your knees and show me

your devotion" She spread those shapely legs, and the boy

swallowing hard dipped his head to her beautiful crotch.

Afterwards,impersonally, she told him to show up for work, bright

and early the next day. She gave him a replacement for the suit

cut away by the girls just a few hours before. It seemed so much

longer somehow, a whole lifetime. Gratefully he changed back into

the slacks and shirt. After washing away the makeup, he went, red

faced and ashamed to the door. The woman handed him a suitcase,

told him to show up in the outfit it contained. Her voice was

quiet, the threat implicit in the sweet low tone. She grabbed his

wrist abruptly, and slipped an intricate ring on his finger. The

ring was ornate and carved seemingly from a block of pure gold,

its shape like that of a key in a lock.

"This is our little symbol. Our society. You are a member, and

you are mine. Remember that." Shaken, the boy left, quickly, his

jaunty strut replaced by a quick, darting walk, as if looking for

cover from some dangerous force. Scared, trembling, upset, he

went straight to his room. He tried to sleep, tried to put the

day behind him, to forget the image reflected in the mirror, his

image of himselfrozen and obscurred by that of the beautiful

girl. her eyes wide set below the blonde fringe of the upswept

bangs. He closed his eyes, felt them open again. His vision then

locked on the suitcase across the room. He forced them closed,

but the images danced before him. He got up, felt the chill of

the night on his now hairless body.

He hesitated across the room and worriedly opened the suitcase.

His eyes opened wide as he saw its hidden contents. Stunned, he

crawled under the covers, and grudgingly drifted off to a

shallow, flight filled sleep.

In the morning, he awoke. He hoped it was all a dream, his hopes

dashed by the sight of the suitcase. He arose slowly, suddenly

decisive. He dressed in a shirt and pants, grabbed the suitcase,

and left his apartment. He walked aimlessly, his mind racing, the

thoughts colliding. He had an idea, searched quickly through his

wallet. There it was, the alumni phone listing. There should be

someone who could help. Scanning the columns of fine print, he

saw the number for a local attorney who had graduated a few years

before. He jammed two dimes in the nearby pay phone, and dialed

the number.

The boy scaled the stairs to the third floor suite of offices.

The attorney was doing pretty well, the boy noting the fine

antique furiture in the spacious lobby.

"A brother in need. How can I be of assistance. " The attorney

entered the office. He was tall and slender, with a full beard

and what appeared, somewhat obviously, to be a man's wig. The

poor man had probably gone prematurely bald. The boy spilled out

his story, showed the young lawyer the exotic clothing in the

suitcase, the intricate ring. The lawyer, hands in his pockets

looked thoughtful.

"I think we can work this out. First thing is for you to go to

work. Come here after lunch, and we can resolve the whole

siuation."

"Back to work?! I couldn't do that. I just couldn't do that."

"You'll have to. I need the time to work everything out. She

can't know that you talked to me. We have to keep her unaware."

"OK, I'll do it, I'll do it."

"Come here during your lunch break."

The boy showed up at the boutique. Under the withering glance of

the woman, he swiftly went to the back room, and began to change,

the girls helping with the wig, nails and makeup. This outfit was

tighter, and slinkier than the one he wore before. The sight of

the breastforms peeking through the low v neck of the dress,

exposing the chest. His chest was more than he could stand. The

morning dragged on, he thought lunch would never come. Finally

twelve noon rolled around.

"Only one hour for lunch. No time to change into those disgusting

male clothes"

The boy, upset, left the store. He felt so foolish in the skimpy

outfit. He hurried across the town to the office, saw his image,

the sexy young girl, in the mirrored door of the office

building, and felt the shame course through his body. He climbed

the stairs, felt the draft of the air conditioner swirl under the

short skirt. He reached the office, grateful for the seclusion of

the office. The receptionist and secretaries were gone. He called

out into the empty room.

"Be with you in a minute" the lawyer answered from the adjoining

office. The boy sat, awkwardly in the tight little skirt.

"Everything is under control. Relax, I'll be out in just a few

minutes. You know, a lawyer's life is an interesting one. It

turns out that I have had prior dealings with your boss. She's

not a client, but we belong to the same club. We are both

interested in reforms, in my case, reforms in the legal

profession. Did you know that the laws are ridiculous, so

outdated that many of today's social changes, and lifestyles are

not yet formally recognized.

"What are you talking about, I am not sure what you mean?"

"Well, for instance, a lawyer I know is forced to hide completely

his lifestyle because the bar wouldn't approve. He dresses, acts

and eight hours a day is completely respectable, the other

sixteen, he leads a rather different life."

"What does that have to do with anything? And am I going to talk

to a closed door all day?"

"No. I will be out shortly. Relax, the solution is close at

hand."

The door crept open, and the lawyer stepped into the room. The

boy's mouth hung open. His eyes blinked rapidly.

"Now do you understand a little better my little cause?" the

lawyer's voice took on a different pitch, lower but sweet. The

lawyer swung into the room. The boy saw on the floor in the

adjoining room the business suit, and the toupee. He looked up

at the lawyer.

The lawyer swept back the long thick hair kept coiled beneath the

male wig. The hair was rich, its nutmeg strands a wild mane, the

loose tendrils of long hair sweeping to the shoulders. The

shoulders were bared by the strapless gown, and the low neckline

exposed the full, pert breasts. The boy stared at them

incomprehensibly.

"I just hate having to bind my breasts, but the bar just wouldn't

understand. I just love to show them off." The lawyer pirouetted

on the high heels, legs long and tan and tapered amply displayed

by the swirling skirt of the sexy gown. The lawyer turned to the

boy.

"Great fanny too." The boy looked, saw the lawyers plump but

shapely derriere.

"Quiet. Now do as you were told."

The boy dipped his head towards the lawyer's crotch. Why would

this beautiful lady have to dress as a man? There were plenty of

successful woman attornies in the world. He pulled at the lawyers

silky briefs. Suddenly he understood. He hesitated, felt the

lawyer tense, heard the anger build in the lawyer's terse

exclamation.

"I told you to show me your devotion. Do the tapes have to be

delivered to the good old frat house today?"

The boy froze. He knelt there on the floor, the short slinky

dress riding up to show the full expanse of the smooth, hairless

legs. The heels dug painfully into his derriere. He felt the

strands of the sexy wig caress gently at his neck. The lipstick

tasted unique as he ran his tounge nervously over his lips. He

felt the long lashes brushing against his eyelids, he couldn't

seem to stop blinking. He ran his hands together nervously, the

nails long and red. He caught a glimpse of his image in the wall

mirror, saw this sweet, sexy young girl posed before what seemed

to be a dramatically attractive woman. The guys just wouldn't

understand. He bent down, took the lawyers large, thick erection

slowly and fully into his mouth.