I had walked past that store every day for the past two years. I had never once failed to look in at the window displays. At first it had been furtive, a look from the side of my eyes keeping my head facing forward. Never pausing and giving no outward sign that I was looking at the lingerie display.

I had stumbled on the shop during my first week at the new job. I had left work one lunch time to find somewhere to get a bite to eat. I didn't' know Southampton that well, so I had meandered my way through the city centres streets. I had always had an interest the fairer sexes lingerie and had often bemoaned to myself how unfair life was. Men had what? Boxer shorts, y-fronts! While women? Well they had the choice of panties, boy shorts, thongs, silk, cotton... Do I need to go on? Life was just so unbalanced in the underwear aspects. The shop had been a magical find for me and I had glimpsed some stunning displays over the following months. They had allowed me some wonderful day dreams over that period.

I had, of course, never had the bottle to step through the stores doorway, but the items displayed had steered my taste in lingerie over those months. Of course and your probably ahead of me here, I was by then an avid, all be it closet, cross dresser. I have been once since I was in senior school. A day when the school was closed due to bad weather had started my exploration into my mum's clothing. I had explored my curiosity first in mum's panty drawer. That day had led to my first 'wank' in panties and it was an indulgence that stayed with me though my teen years and up to the present day. I had dabbled in erotic fiction, ok porn, and when I didn't have enough pocket money as a teenager I had simply shop lifted the top shelf publications that my local paper shops top shelf offered. How many magazines had I slipped under my coat over those years and strolled out of the store with all the feigned innocence of a Mr. Bean. But I had never been caught and had spent many a contented night 'wanking' over the stories in the privacy of my bedroom.

I had left school and joined an insurance company as a clerk. Some days I had even worn my mum's panties to work, and they knowledge of what was under my suits grey trousers was often the biggest turn on. I had worried "what if" I was rushed to hospital having cut my leg off with a rouge stapler at work, but it had never happened and my secret remained just that.

When I had finally left home money was tight, so my 'wardrobe' grew slowly. Lingerie was my first love and it was there that I concentrated my limited funds. I had opened an account with Great Universal as a 'Mr. and Mrs.' and the mailman unbeknown to him, became the main supplier of my secret wardrobe. If I hadn't worn panties for work, then I slipped into them when I got home. If I had, then bra and stockings would join them, once I was home. I was as I say a cross dresser, one in the closet. I hung onto the closet door so tight so that no one could prize it open, and my secret remained just that, a secret.

Girl friends had come and gone, and I had bouts of 'self doubt' when my purchases would end up in a randomly selected bin, but I always came back to cross dressing and the intermittent girlfriends remained unaware of my interest in their underwear. For most men the desire was for what lay under the fairer sexes clothes, for me, the best bit wasn't their bodies. As I say, I was a closeted cross dresser with a passion for silk and nylon.

During those two years I had learnt a lot about lingerie from the shops displays. Before I had stumbled on the store, there had been only knickers, bras, stockings and tights. But the education from the displays had thought me of such wonders as boy shorts, cheeky's, Bikini's, Briefs, Garters, Hiphuggets, thongs, V strings, pushups, full coverage, demi cup, strapless, racerback. Front closure... well you get the idea. My furtive glances in that window had guided my Great Universal purchases and had shown me what to buy.

Then came that day in June when a new display brought me to a sharp halt. The shop had two windows either side of the door way but it was the right hand side window that had brought me to a stop. There was a display of stockings and panties, but it was the centre piece that caught my eyes. On a mannequin was a vision in black. I had never owned a corset, but had often dreamt one day I would make an exploration into the field. But I just never had, and now I was looking at, well as I say a vision in black. A lacy corset that was so girly and delicate. It was under wired, and padded but just enough cleavage to hint at the delights it could contain and not to scream 'tramp'. There were suspender straps and matching panties. The corset looked so delicate, so soft and lacy that I stood there, looking at it, day dreaming and with a semi erection. Then reality kicked in, I went red, realized I had stopped to stare, and quickly walked on. But all that day and that night all I could do was imagine me in that wonder of lingerie. The rest of the week I had slowed my walk past the store so I could see the vision, and every day my desire to have that wondrous object of lingerie grew.

I would lie in bed imagining how I would look, I would travel to work on the train, eyes shut day dreaming of the vision I would be. The corset day dreams ate away at me, nibbling a small bit from my resistance every day, until I knew I had to have it. I had to own it; I would get no peace of mind until it was mine. Great Universal offered nothing even close to the quality or style of my new desire, and Friday lunch time I had once again stopped and stared at the corset. I was nervous, and shaking like a leaf, but I was determined that I would own it. Friday evening was pay day, so I decided that Monday would be the day of purchase. I would wait until I had left work, buying it lunch time would mean having to hide it for the remainder of the day. So I would leave work, make my purchase and catch a later train home. Simple!

The weekend seemed to stretch for ever, and I spent the time creating scenarios of how I would go about making the purchase. It was to be a present for my girl friend. I was not a big lad, so I figured if I made 'her' a big girl, then the size would not be an issue. I would stroll into the store like a man of the world, make my purchase and then leave. How simple was that? A fool proof plan or a plan for a fool? Or is that the benefit of hindsight?

Monday morning came and the hours between 9 and 12 seemed to be double length. The clock was on go slow and it seemed to take forever before I could set off to lunch and pass the window once more. Yes the corset was still there, and its hold on my fantasies had not diminished one iota.

I returned to my desk and the files that demanded my attention. If I had thought the clock was slow before lunch, it seemed to all but have, stopped for the afternoon stretch. But it was moving despite appearances, and 5.00 p.m finally arrived.

I was never slow in leaving the office, but today I seemed to break all records. I was first out the door and was so fast I had the lift to myself. I was out of the door and retracing my lunch time route before the clock reached 5.10.

As I approached the store my fast walking pace slowed to a crawl and I found my nerves started to crumble and I walked straight passed the store, eyeing the corset in the passing. I crossed the street and walked past again, getting a second look at the black lace, and the matching panties.

I crossed back over and stood two shops down. This was silly; I would count to ten and walk straight in. I reached nine and thought I may have missed seven out so to be fair I counted again, on ten I walked down to the shop and...straight past! I lurked outside the next shop, my heart racing and cursing myself. I counted to ten and walked towards the shop. It took all myself will to not walk past yet again, but to turn into the door way and push the door open. The door bell chimed and I let the door shut behind me. I was in!

The shop was not very large and the far end was dominated by a glass counter. Along one wall were two curtained cubicles and along the other display shelves. Dotted around the store were various fixtures of various sorts holding an Aladdin's cave of lingerie? I was in paradise, all be it in a shaking and perspiring state. At the counter stood a blonde haired woman, about the age of my own mother, and quite attractive, she had a lilac suit on with a soft cream blouse. She looked up at me and smiled, greeting me with a friendly "good afternoon sir"

The store as I say wasn't that big, but the walk from door to counter seemed to take forever, and with each foot step my sensible half of my mind screamed "run" and the darker side taunted me with visions of the corset. "Can I help you sir?" The assistant said as I reached the counter. She smiled a warm friendly greeting and the sensible thoughts evaporated. "Err yes" I mumbled "there's a corset in the window, I would like to buy it for my wife... girlfriend" I tried to look casual relaxed, as if this was a simple purchase for a fella's girlfriend. But I could feel my cheeks glowing and sweat tricking down my nose.

"The delicate lacy corset?" she questioned, and as her smile remained friendly I relaxed further. She believed me! I had done it. If she had doubted my story, she would be calling me a pervert and I would be fleeing the store. "Yes that's the one, "I smiled a crooked smile back at her, "and the knickers to" I coolly added. Notice I said knickers and not panties. All part of my pre-planning. A man wouldn't say panties but a cross dresser might, see I had this all worked out. Simples.

"Yes sir, not a problem, do you know your wife, sorry your girl friends size?" she queried. Now size I had down to patter. After a number of wrong sized purchases in the past I had my own sizes translated into lingerie sizes and here I was home and dry, "yes she is a size 14" I smiled back at her. The assistant looked at me for a few seconds in silence. That brief pause shattered my frail confidence. "Or maybe a size 16" I mumbled, going slightly red. She smiled at me and asked a question that brought my confidence crashing to the ground.

"Would the corset be for you, sir?" I turned from a slight hint of red to a full on beacon shade of red and mumbled an incoherent series of sentences. This was not part of any of the scenarios I had practice, and it was a nightmare, laughter would be next, then humiliation. I would flee the store and she would 'out' me to the world, to my family to my colleagues. I was rooted to the spot, to scare to run and to stun to speak.

She smiled that sweet smile again "its ok sir, we have many gentlemen clients who share a similar appreciation of ladies lingerie as you, so please don't worry." I could breathe again, the panic and desire to run diminished. I was still embarrassed but also excited by her kindness.

"Yes" my voice finally found" it is for me". Had I spoken those words out aloud? That smile again, "so sir is a 14 to 16 size, hang on one moment please" and she walked over to a display rack. I watched her rummage through the coat hangers on the rail and found I was shaking with nerves. After less than a minute she came back to stand behind the counter holding the corset I had lusted after all week. "This is a 14 sir, which I think will be more your size than a 16". The smile and she laid the soft garment onto the counter. I looked down at the corset and picked it up with one hand. It felt as soft as it looked. "Would you care" smile "to try it on in one of our changing rooms" I raised my head to look at her, had I heard right? Try it on? Here? In a shop? "Don't worry darling" smile"we are discreet and as I say we have a number of girls like you as our cliental. Pop into the changing rooms, and if you would like, once dressed, give me a call and I would be happy to judge the fit and the style for you. "My redness increased but my flaccid cock also raised its head to a half erection. I made no verbal replay other than a smile and then corset in hand walked to one of the changing rooms.

As I pulled the curtain shut the assistants hand appeared with a set of the tong that went with the corset, "slip these on so we can have the full effect" her voice smiled and beckoned from the other side of the curtain. I removed my male attire and stood in that cubical naked. I had a slim body for a man, a penis that was not too big and not too small. My body hair was fair so I looked smooth. As to my pubic hair, that was shaved. I had seen a photo of a shaved T Girl and had fallen in love with the look at first glance. My girlfriends had appreciated the look and smooth was how I stayed.

The thong slid up my legs and the back strap slipped between my cracks. I tucked my cock into the soft material. The corset was as soft as I opened it to slip into. I stumbled with getting it positioned and with fastening the clasps. But in a few minutes I looked at the corset clad girl in the mirror. I looked, to me, amazing. A rustle of the curtain and a female hand passed a pair of lace topped black stockings to me. "You will need these to Hun" the lady with the smile told me. Stockings were no stranger to me and I slid the soft material up my legs with ease. I fastened the clasps to the tops and looked at myself once more.

"Are you ready Hun" the voice enquired. I mumbled a yes and held my breath. A well manicured hand took the edge of the curtain and pulled it back. I stepped out into the sales area to be greeted by two girls looking me over. Two? Where there had been one now there were two and they both smiled at me. A long smile that slowly turned to laughter! The assistant who had first greeted me pointed at me and between bouts of laughter said "my, doesn't he just looks the pure sissy". My semi erect man hood shriveled to nothing and made to crawl deep with me where it could safely hide in shame. I reddened and wished the floor to open up and swallow me. The sweet smile, the kind voice, the gentleness was gone and in its place I had belittlement, humiliation and cruelty.

The new assistant held a small camera in her hands, and I prayed for the earth to open up as she recorded the scene before her. As she snapped away her colleague's laughter eased off, enough for her to add further to my humiliation "another sad sissy boy who thinks a few clothes and he is a girl." I turned to grab my abandoned male attire, but she was faster. As she swooped them up she laughed and I felt tears prick my eyes. My man hood died deep inside me and if I dropped dead at this moment I would count it a blessing. "Please" I begged. Give me my clothes back and I will leave you in peace" I started to unfasten the corset, the 'wondrous' garment that a few minutes ago had been my entire desire, my goal in life. "Leave that on sissy boy" the photographer snapped at me. My hands froze in mid unclasp and I looked at her, "please" I wined again. The threatening tears became real and slowly they coursed down my cheek. "Please" I begged.

"Oh no sissy boy, this game has begun". Her girl friend walked over to the counter and connected the camera to a lap top she had placed on the top. "Now while Susan stores the photos on line, we will finish dressing you and the in CCV will carry on making a record of your dressing." The look on my face must have been a picture as she laughed before she continued "just do as we require of you for the weekend and then the photos will be deleted. You will be a free agent, and ..."here she laughed again "if you're really good girl you can have the corset for a 50% discount" Her laughter became hysterical and my tears ran freely down my reddened cheeks.

Part two

The Panty Box had been my creation ten years ago. My parents had left me, their only child, well catered for. With the inheritance I had brought a small struggling lingerie shop two streets off the high street. I renamed it and then spent the next decade working long hours to finally reach a point where I earned a decent income. Over those years I had seen a huge change in the styles and tastes of my cliental, all of who tended to be more of my generation. They were the back bone, the bread and butter of my trade. Many of the regular customers had become over time more friends that clientele.

I am forty-five and I happily never married. The shop had grown to become the centre of my life but with the growth of the internet it had blossomed even further. I had struggled running the store by myself, until about three years ago when I finally realized I had to employ someone to help me. Susan had come to me from the Job Centre and was a real find. She had made the internet side of Panty Box her baby and it had blossomed under her skilful guidance. We made a great pair, and even if for her age, she sometimes dressed a bit tartly, without her I would be lost.

Panty Box catered for a more up market taste in lingerie. I try to steer clear of the 'Tesco' end of the trade and while we may be a bit pricey, that helped sift through those that enter my store.

The only parts of my business I have dislike from day one are the bloody 'Trannys'. Men in drag! They come into my store to buy clothes for their 'wives'. Do they really think I can't see through the size issue? Have they all got wives or partners who are the size and bulk of a man? They come in, red faced, stammering and expect me to not see through their sissy tastes. I had sent more than one of them running with a flea in their ear.

It was Susan that changed the games rules there. She started by simply sizing the tranny up wrong and selling them too smaller clothes. It's not; as she pointed out, as if they could ever bring them back. Then she started over charging, as once in the store they could hardly argue and not pay up. Red faced, they just wanted the item bagged and to be leaving the store.

We had both made several connections between some tranny and our real clientele. The sissy's claimed to be purchasing a present for their wife's, yet the idiots had ignored the fact that we knew their wives real sizes. In more than once case we had a quiet talk with a wife, and enlightened her. In one case the tranny husband was kicked out, and in another, the wife took up the reigns of their marriage and wore the trousers from that day on.

I think it was me who first spotted the guy we called 'lunch time sissy. Monday to Friday he would pass our window and steal a sly glance at our displays. For nearly a year we had watched him as he passed every day, and soon labelled him as a sissy boy. We noticed that certain displays would slow his pace more so, and Susan had dabbled with him there. She changed the windows displays, watched his walking pace and came to know his tastes. He was defiantly a panty boy, but with a liking in the very fem, lace or delicate. She would dress each window differently and eighty percent of the time guessed which window would catch his eye.

Then about a week ago she laid a wager with me. She claimed she knew him so well she could entice him into the store and into the corset. With just one more display, she would seduce him to walk in and make a purchase. I knew Susan well, but doubted she had such powers, so the bet was made. That lunch time after sissy boy had made his two daily passes of our store front; she stripped one of our windows and dressed it in some newly delivered lingerie, but made the centre piece a black lacy corset. She chooses a bigger size than normal and ensures it was prominently lit. The trap was baited; all we needed now was our mouse.
Monday morning came and we waited for sissy boy to make his pass. He was on time and Susan was right, the corset caught his eye. He even stopped. Damn her if she was going to take the bet. For a week we watched him as he would amble past eyeing up the corset. Never the other windows contents, always the baited window. It was as if Susan had laid a web out and he was slowly getting ensnared in it. She was disappointed that the weekend ended and he didn't come in, but she headed home that Saturday claiming Monday would be the day.

The new week came and he passed by as slow as ever. I made some jibe to Susan but she just told me to wait and see. Just before 5.30 p.m she was proved right once more, the doors bell chimed and in walked sissy boy. He crossed to the sales counter red faced and shaking with nerves. This was delicious and I felt like here I could have some fun. I felt that a game had begun and we held the winning cards. I looked up at sissy boy as if only just seeing him me and smiling gave him a "good afternoon".

I could almost sense his conflict of mind, part wanting to run and the other part wanting to make the purchase and then do the run. "Can I help you sir?" Was my next gambit in the game that he unknowingly stepped into? I was finding his red faced terror quite delicious, hell even a turn on. I throw another sycophantic smile at the sissy. God he was a nervous wreck! A mumbled "yes "there's a corset in the window, I would like to buy it for my wife... girlfriend". Wife, girlfriend! I hid my amusement at his 'story. He was a pathetic specimen of the male sex, and even I could see the sad bulge in his suit trousers. He may be scared but he was 'boasting' a tiny erection. This was turning me on in some weird unexpected way; I was getting turned on by his humiliation!

Ok I needed to move this along. I knew what he wanted but a promoting was required or we could be here all night. "The delicate lacy corset?" I asked knowing the answer and I threw him another smile. The sissy actually relaxed and the sweating seemed to diminish. He thought I believed his sad tale, wife, and girlfriend! "Yes that's the one, "he mumbles "and the knickers to"

Another smile at the fly in our web and a "Yes sir, not a problem, do you know your wife, sorry your girl friends size?" He asked for a 14 to 16, the pathetic sissy. This was delicious but it was time to change the games rules. "Would the corset be for you sir?" Seven little words but I was sure he was about to pee himself. God he went red! I had to help him here or we would have a sodden carpet.

Smarmy smile and "it's ok sir, we have many gentlemen clients" (sissy, trannies...) "who share a similar appreciation of ladies lingerie as you, so please don't worry." Thank god he breathed again and my carpet was spared a soaking. The game was mine with his next words. "Well yes it is for me". Ok so now we had to take another step towards Susan's declared goal, and to do that we had to be more realistic about his sizes, if it didn't fit the game would end. "So sir is a 14 to 16 size? Hang on one moment please" I told the pathetic sissy and rummage through the coat hangers on a rail, "This is a 14 sir, which I think will be more your size than a 16".Throw him another smile and lay the corset on the counter. "Would you care" smile again "to try it on in one of our changing rooms?"

God you should have seen his face, I feared wet carpet again, he looked like someone had sneaked up and showed a cucumber up his arse. So time for more carrot, the stick would follow soon enough. "Don't worry darling we are discreet and as I say we have a number of girls like you as our cliental. Pop into the changing rooms, and if you would like, once dressed, give me a call and I would be happy to judge the fit and the style for you. "God I was such a lair, but hell if I was too loose my bet then I would do so in style, and lies only count if you're caught. The sissy went red again and the wee bulge returned in his trousers. God was that best he could do, any smaller and someone would stick a cube of pineapple and cheese on it! But my sweetness and winning smiles worked, sissy boy took the preferred corset and walked off to one of our changing areas.

The little sissy had left the thong on the counter so I passed it through to him, or should I call him her? Hell I didn't know! Then I added some stockings to. This was so much easier than I'd expected.

Susan emerged from the back room where she had been keeping low, so as not to intermediate the little sissy. I handed her £50 from my purse and whispered, "Looks like you have won the first bet, but how about a second go?" She smiled and leaned in, where I made my proposal in a whisper. Hands were shaken and round two began.

"Are you ready Hun" Susan called pulling the curtain back and an incoherent "yes" emanated from behind the curtain. He, sorry she, pulled the curtain back and stepped out. God you should have seen his face, a picture. Susan and I just stared. Truth be told he, sorry she, had a great figure and looked the part. 'Shaved his legs and he was a she' in the words of the song. I just could not believe what the silly little man had allowed himself... her, to become. I just pointed and burst out laughing. "My, doesn't he just look the pure sissy" and his tiny erection vanished at warp speed. Susan and could not stop ourselves laughing, but at least she managed to snap a few photos.

Once I had some breath back I managed to turn to Susan "another sad sissy boy who thinks a few clothes and he is a girl." Sissy boy made a move for his male attire but I was faster of the mark and swept them up. Now she started crying, real life tears and pleading. This simple bet had turned into more, and was turning me on big. I wondered how Susan felt as she down loaded the images onto the lap top. He started to remove his lingerie but Susan put a stop to that" Leave that on sissy boy" More tears from sissy and back with the pleading. "Forget it sissy, this game has barely begun". I told her. "Now while Susan stores the photos on line, we will finish dressing you and the in CCV will carry on making a record of your dressing." Another lie, but how did she know we had no CCV; she was in no state to look around for the cameras. This lying was easy." just do as we require of you for the weekend and then the photos will be deleted." Now that just had to be my third lie, so far?" You will be a free agent, and if you're really good girl you can have the corset for a 50% discount" At this point I lost it and couldn't stop myself from laughing. Such a cute sissy and the fun had barely begun.

Part three

The cows just laughed at me and I so wanted to die. The 'fucking' corset wasn't worth this, no way. My mind whirled, I knew dressed like this I couldn't run out of the store, so I needed to be a 'man 'and get my clothes of the bitches. I made a move towards the bitch with my clothes, determined to put an end to this. As I reached out, the fucking cow laughed and after that? Hell I don't know what happened; there was a blur, a falling, a thump and then pain. I landed on my back and she just laughed as she rested one heeled shoe on my chest and told me to stay where I was. A woman had thrown me! I lay there winded, defeated and feeling like a piece of sh*t in these women's hands.

She looked down at me and tutted, "that was stupid sissy boy, next time I will break a bone, so just stay where you are and be a good sissy, we haven't done with you yet" and with a casual flick of her foot the stiletto healed black court shoe flew off. I could see her stocking foot, the toes nails painted red in all there detail as she brought the foot closer to my face. I could smell the scent of a day's perspiration from confinement within a fashion shoe. The odour of a day's walking and as the foot drew closer the musk became over powering. She placed the tip of her nylon encased sweaty toes against my pressed lips and eased the nylon toe nails between them. I pressed my lips together to prevent her forcing her foot in, and moaned a protest through my clenched lips. But how long can you resist a foot being forced into your mouth? Not long, I resisted for as long as I could but the sheer pressure slowly eased the toes in. I wanted to lick my lips to reseal them and that's when I lost the fight. With a push her toes slid between my dry lips and her sweaty toes entered my mouth. I gagged on the nylon, on the musk of her foots ordure, but she just laughed and teased her stocking toes around my lips. Humiliation upon humiliation! As I surrendered and ran my tongue along her stocking toes, I felt a weird mixture of humiliation, degradation and the unwelcome stirrings of an arousal.

Part four

I watched as Susan eased her foot into the sissy's mouth, as tears welled from his eyes. I had at first felt a pity for the poor lad; he wasn't much older than what? 21, 22? But he looked as pathetic as he lay there panty and corset clad. As much as I felt pity I was also aware of an arousal, that this situation had developed a sexual element. It was turning me on. I found I was becoming wet and almost without planning squeezing my thighs together. Susan eased her foot from the sissy and told him to just lie where he was. Then I watched as she unhitched her skirt and let it fall to the floor. Her blouse followed next and she stood there in her matching panties, bra and hold ups. I have to admit from a professional point of few she looked amazing, and from the view point of single 40+ women, who hadn't been fucked in, well a long time, stunning. What had started as a bet, as a game, had with no planning from me taken the most amazing and erotic turned.

I eased the saliva coated toe from his mouth, and watched as the tears stained his face. Now I knew I would have all my fun, but I had a way to go yet before his humiliation was complete. Now I had to ease the game up another notch. Caroline was a stunning woman and I had long admired the legs and figure of my boss. But she had ignored me and been unaware of my flirting. But I could see the arousal in her eyes, the way she stared at sissy boy and pressed her thighs together. Now I had to step the game from one of humiliation to one with a strong sexual aspect to it.

I shed my skirt and blouse, standing still for the shops other two occupants to admire me. I knew I looked good as I had dressed with such care this morning. I also knew sissy would comply with my designs and lusts, but dare I hope my boss would fall in with the entire game? Dare I? Judging by the fire in her eyes, I dare.

I could not stop staring at Susan; she had a figure to die for and legs that went on forever. If asked I would declare myself to be straight, 100% straight, nay a kink in my sexuality. But I still found myself looking at the lingerie clad sissy that Susan now had kneeling before her. Then there were the curves and shapes of my assistant...

I knelt before Susan in my lovely stockings and corset. My eyes were level with her panties and I feasted them with the speculation of what the thin material covered. Miss Susan took my hair with her hands and pulled my face towards her panties. I could smell her scent and see the dampness of her excitement. With a firm but no nonsense tug she pulled my face into her panties and I became smothered by the soft material, her warmth and her scents.

I watched as the sissy was held to Susan's panty clad mound and as he was forced to inhale her sexual musk. I found my own state of arousal was becoming too much and my hands sought relief under my skirt and my own moist panties. Caroline the strait woman, the owner of the Panty Box, was being turned on by watching her sales staff dress and humiliates a sissy boy. My fingers caress the moistened material of my panties before they prized the gusset aside and found the wetness that was seeping from my long neglected pussy. The fingers caressed my swollen lips and explored the nectar that was seeping from deep within me. I leant back against the counter watching the scene being enacted before me. Sissy boy was pressed deep into Susan's sodden panties, her hands holding his head in place.

All I could smell, breath and feel were the woman's panties. Her musk was over powering and I wanted my tongue to seek the source of her honey juices. But every time I sought to ease my tongue into that panty covered well, her fingers would tighten their hold on my hair and pull me back. I would not be pulled away but just far enough so I was still buried into her lingerie but far enough back so I would be frustrated and unable to do what my mind screamed for. To sink my tongue into her warm, wet, enflamed lips, to taste her pussy. My cock was erect and ached at the frustration I was being enforce to suffer, and I was powerless to have my way.

I could not turn my head, her hold was to tight, but I could see from the edge of my vision the other woman had hitched her skirt up, eased her panties to one side and had her fingers sunk deep into the wet haven between her legs. I watched as she worked herself to arousal and I breathed in the heavy musk of those panties I was pressed into. My cock could stand no more of this frustration and I was unable to prevent it shooting its load. I moaned as I emptied my sack of my spunk and could feel the lovely thong I had been wearing being transformed into a sodden and soaked piece of material.

Part five

I had called a taxi and the three of us sat in the back. Caroline and I sat either side of the sissy boy. I had made a mistake a year ago by ordering a range of 'adult fun' clothes. You know, nurses, policewomen... Few had sold and the remnants had been consigned to a box in the back of the stock room. There until today they had they had gathered dust. But lurking at the bottom of the box were three or four blue 'Alice in Wonderland' dresses. Nice, feminine, over the top and just perfect for a sissy.

Between us sad a vision in blue satin! He or she, you can take your choice, looked ridiculous. Plenty of lace trimmed around the neck, a lovely central rosette, more lace and an underskirt that showed her panties off nicely. She looked so adorable and even had a lovely petticoat. She had retrained her stockings of course, and we had furnished him with a cheap blonde curly week from one of our display dummies. With some rudimentary make up he looked the personification of tarty. A sweet girl, her cheeks burning red and stained panties on show.

The taxi driver had one eye on the road and another on the three girls sat in the back of his cab. Caroline and I each placed a hand on sissy's legs and eased them apart so the driver got a good view of his sodden panties. Sissy was red with humiliation, but what could he do? Leap out the taxi and totter away in his high heels? He had nowhere to go and could just sit there and wonder where we were heading. His wallet had been a source of so much information and even gave us the final location for the game to end. Or for sissies chapter to end!

Caroline had joined in the game better than I had ever imagined and I had been stunned to watch her cum under the magic of her own fingers. She had seemed to come alive and once sissy boy was delivered to his destination I hoped to persuade Caroline to let me provide her with further 'pleasures' with the compliments of my own fingers and tongue. Then later on, well there were other sissy dresses in that box, and a good game should never be played just the once, should it? But first we had a bet to sort out.

Part six

I sat in the chair; my wrists were tied to the arms of the chair and my ankles to the legs. But they were tied in such a way that my satin skirt and petticoat had risen up and my panties visible. I could smell the musk of my drying spunk but that was the least of my fears. I was tied to a chair, wearing stockings, panties, and was a vision of blue satin and 'come fuck me' high heeled shoes on. The wig and the makeup were cheap and tarty, as was the entire way I looked. They had brought me in the back way, using my own keys and up a flight of stairs to the room where I now sat a prisoner of humiliation. Then they had spent ten minutes taking photos of my in my state before they waved their farewells and vanished back down the stairs.

That was three of four hours ago and now dawn was creeping in through the window. I knew that they weren't coming back and I started to cry once more. All I had wanted was a corset, a simple thing surely and I had ended up here. It was 8.30 a.m, and I was tied to an office chair and I could already hear the sound of footsteps as my colleagues walked into the room where I was tied to my office chair, corseted, sissified and humiliated.