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Living in a House Full of Girls By Amy Brett (part 1) Chapter 1 "I GUESS YOU'VE got a choice," she said. "Either do it or head back home somehow." I frowned at the thought of returning to North Dakota anytime, let alone in the middle of winter and without any money for a bus or anything. We'd gotten to San Francisco two months earlier on our way to Hollywood and stardom. Well, without money, we were just stuck in San Francisco. At least we'd been a little bit smart. We'd stopped before we spent the last of the money and had been saved by that. If we'd spent the other $50 on bus tickets to Los Angeles, we'd have starved there in no time. As it was, we'd found a fleabag place to stay for $10 a week and been eating while we looked for work. Oh, we'd found a little work but it hadn't worked out. I'd washed dishes while Michelle waited tables for a night. The old Greek guy who owned the place had spent half his time pursuing Michelle around whenever she'd stop in one place for more than two minutes. He had more hands than an octopus. We made sure he paid us before we left, with no intention of getting anywhere close to him again. Anybody would think that Michelle and I have a funny relationship. She's a beautiful girl but we've never really been anything at all but the best of friends. Maybe it's just that she sort of adopted me a long time ago. It was the first day of high school she'd adopted me. I'd transferred in to the school when my parents moved to North Dakota and Michelle was the first person I met. I think she felt sorry for me. I guess I'm no sort of prize. Little for my age. Not even a little bit athletic. Shy. She'd spent all that year being my only friend and, as everyone took to their own concerns in the summer and my parents worked, my only contact with people. We got to know everything about each other. When school started that year and we both got the same teachers, it was pretty natural that we hung with each other full time. And when her parents were killed in a car accident and they were going to send her to an orphanage, it was only natural that we left together. "Well?" she said, exasperated with me for not making a decision. "What is it?" It was the hardest decision I'd had to make yet and it seemed I'd had to make a lot of them in the month we'd been in San Francisco. The two girls had talked to Michelle a week before for the first time and since then had gotten more friendly all the time with her. When she'd been invited to their house, I hadn't minded. But now, when they'd invited her and "her friend" to move in, it was different. The house was really neat. A big old place in a pretty good neighborhood. It was safe. The girls all shared in providing food. And best, the place had been left to one of them by a grandmother or something so there was no rent. With just enough work to buy food when we could, we could live there forever in safety. That meant there was only one problem. The house belonged to a girl and the girl only wanted other girls to live there with her. No boys allowed. And I'm not a girl. That was the decision. Would I let her help me to look enough like a girl to get by at the house, were we going to starve, or were we going back to North Dakota somehow? The way I saw it, there wasn't much choice. "Yeah, okay," I said. Michelle actually clapped her hands in glee. * * * She worked hard at making me female. I wore my own underwear, except for the bra she put around me and stuffed with silky panties. She had me take a shower, something I did every morning but normally didn't at night. Then she worked real hard with my razor, trimming off all the hair on my legs, face and underarms. It took the longest for her to do my hair. She kept giving me alternatives for the way it would be. She just didn't understand that I didn't give a damn. I just wanted it over with. My hair had been sort of in style back at home before we left -- long and stringy really. I kept it tied up with a rubber band. I'd avoided getting a haircut for months before we left. Now it had been a couple of months longer and so was my hair. It was actually longer than shoulder length and longer than Michelle's. At least, after she had my hair in curlers, she went ahead and put a little makeup on my face to save effort. While we waited for my hair to dry, she picked out a blouse and a pair of her pants for me to wear. It made me feel funny wearing only a pair of her loafers without socks. It was so ... female. If that wasn't enough, she painted my fingernails. I mean she shaped them and then painted them. They looked like girl fingernails and I sort of shivered when I looked at them. She kept giving me the same thing when I'd protest. "Do you want to go with me?" I kept having to answer that I did and she would either nod or say, "Then you've got to be a girl. We're getting there." She gave me an old watch she'd been wearing, a little friendship ring, and a necklace. She called it a chain and, I guess, that's what it was. But it had a little bunch of circles on the end of it and I've never seen a guy wear something like that. I thought that most everything was over and I didn't have anything to worry about any more when she left and came back with an ice cube and a needle. I couldn't believe it when she told me to just sit still and put the ice on my earlobe. When she stuck it, it still hurt but nothing like when she put one of her earrings through it. "I hope it heals up okay before tomorrow," she said as she did the second ear. I know that some guys have an earring. But nothing like these with little pearls on them. She said they were the only gold posts she had and the others might get infected. Finally, she combed out my hair and kept fluffing it up around my head and stuff. I thought she did that for a lot longer than necessary. Then she told me to stand up and look in the mirror. I did and almost fell over backwards with my surprise. I couldn't see myself. I mean, what I saw in the mirror was not me! That's all there was to it. It wasn't me! It was ... I don't know. It was someone totally different. There was no doubt. What I saw in the mirror was a girl. Really, it was a young woman. A very pretty young woman. I looked into the face, inspecting it minutely. Finally, I looked into the eyes and that was the first time I recognized the person reflected there. The only thing. It was sort of funny. The guy I knew myself to be was gone. That's all there was to it. But the girl I saw in the mirror was exciting. When I smiled at myself, it actually turned me on. The girl in the mirror was gorgeous. Then it struck me as funny. The guy I'd been just a little while ago was a wimp. A loser. Maybe nice but not much of a guy. No one, anywhere would be particularly excited by him. But this girl! This girl! This was exciting! A lot of people would be excited by this girl. A lot. "Amy," she said behind me as she looked over my shoulder at my reflection in the mirror. "Your name is Amy." * * * "Becky told us you'd be coming," the girl said after she'd let us in the door. "My name's Jo. Short for Josephine. This is the living room." I looked around at the hodge-podge of stuffed chairs, junkyard couches, the well- worn TV, and the stereo that was now playing a heavy metal song. I looked at the girl's bounding ass cheeks through the worn white shorts that covered them. Her bare feet padded on the hardwood floor as she led the way into a dining room and then the kitchen. "We all take turns cooking and a couple of us clean up after meals," she said to Michelle as I watched the way her heavy breasts moved inside the bandanna top she barely wore. Her blond hair was enticing as she swished her hair back and forth over her shoulders as she talked and opened and closed cabinets. The sway of her hips was very enticing as we followed her up the stairs with our suitcases. "This is my room," she said as she swept her spread arms around the tiny bedroom. There was just room for a dresser and the unmade bed. The top of the dresser was strewn with cosmetics, brushes, and costume jewelry. "Mary has the big room across the hall and Doris has the front bedroom. The big bathroom is over there" She led the way up the steep stairway to the third floor. She pointed toward a closed door. "Pat and Phil -- Patricia and Phillis -- live there. This will be your room." She opened the door and led the way in. It had a double bed and a large dresser with a fogged mirror above it. There was a rod across one corner, suspended at one end from a chain. It held a dozen hangers. The double bed was covered with a faded terrycloth bedspread and had a slight swayed spot to the side away from the wall. "There's a little bathroom up here. Just a shower and the other stuff." We nodded. It would be comfortable up here and at least we wouldn't have to worry about being thrown out for lack of money. She turned toward the door and walked into the hall. "Come on down when you get your stuff put away. The others ought to be getting home in about an hour or so." Michelle opened the suitcase and carefully hung up her clothes. I stuffed mine, filled with my own clothes, under the bed and then helped her put the rest of her things in the dresser. It only took a few minutes. "You want the inside or the outside?" she asked as she lay down on the bed. "I don't care. Whatever." "Okay. You take the inside then. It's pretty comfortable." "This is going to be okay," I added. "Yeah. It's nice. If the other girls are okay, I think it'll be great." I visited the bathroom, small but adequate and clean, before returning to the bedroom. God, Michelle was appealing, laying there with her shoes kicked off, her arms behind her neck, and her eyes closed. I took my time, silently looking at her wonderful body. The tight jeans shaped to her thighs and her prominent mons. The seam between her legs split her labia and the swelled lips protruded on both sides of it through the material. Her large breasts held up the front of her shirt in spite of gravity's work on them. Her lips were shaped to a self-satisfied smile that rose almost to her well defined cheekbones. Her blond hair spread around her face on the pillow. She looked so beautiful and so vulnerable. I think I love her. As I looked at her, she opened her beautiful blue eyes and looked directly at me. "Are we ready to go downstairs?" she said as she sat up and slipped her feet into her shoes again. I nodded as I watched. * * * As we walked down the final set of stairs, the door burst open and three chattering girls came through it. The black haired girl in a short skirt and red blouse looked up at us. "Hi, Michelle. This must be your friend?" she said. The other two girls looked up at us as well. "Hi, Doris," Michelle said. "My friend. Amy." "Nice to meet you, Amy. This is Pat and Phil." I looked at the two brunettes - - one strikingly pretty and petite, the other not nearly so pretty or well dressed. Both smiled prettily at us and stepped forward. There was a flurry of greetings before they led the way into the living room and fell into chairs. The black haired girl sat in one of the stuffed chairs with her legs spread and flopped her head back on the back of it. "How was work?" someone asked as Michelle and I found an open place to sit on one of the couches. "Fine," Doris said and the other two girls reflected that statement. "Pat and Phil are salesgirls at the boutique in the mall," Jo said for our benefit. "Doris works for a law office. Merrill, Merrill, Stock, and Paul." All the girls, I could see, were older than Michelle and I, with Phil, the plainest of the group, the oldest. Probably in her late 20's. The door opened again and shut quickly. "Hi everybody," a voice said. I looked around at the most stunningly beautiful woman I've ever seen. Her dark hair was pulled back at the side of her gorgeous face into a tight bun at the back of her head. Her eyes were dark and luminous, her lips shiny red and pouting. Her body was long and lithe, perfect for the very short skirt and fluffy blouse she wore. She had the longest legs I think I've ever seen and, maybe, the flattest chest. A perfect model's shape and look. "Hi Mary," everyone echoed before she found a seat near me. "You must be Michelle," she said, leaning across me to shake Michelle's hand. "This is Amy," Michelle said after she'd nodded at her name. "Amy," the girl said. "We heard about you. Did Jo get you set up in your room okay?" We said yes and that it was very nice. "I don't know what we can contribute," Michelle said then. "Oh, don't worry too much," Mary said. "Everyone seems to find something. Jo sort of takes care of the house. Pat and Phil bring in some food money from the store and make nice clothes available to us at wholesale. Doris gives us legal advice and, sometimes, some dates with the lawyers." She smiled at that. "Are you a model?" I asked, sure I was right. "Uh huh. Just some local advertising stuff now but maybe some day I'll hit it big. Who knows." She shifted. "What do you do?" I shrugged. "We just got here a couple of months ago. We've done a couple of odd jobs, but that's about all. Mostly we've just been going broke." "You're from Nebraska or something?" Doris asked. "North Dakota. That's worse." Everyone laughed with us. "What's in North Dakota?" one asked. "Nothing at all," Michelle said. "That's why we're here." There was another round of laughter. "Parents? Friends?" Jo asked. "Huh uh. My parents are separated. My mom can't afford to feed me and my brothers too. My dad left for parts unknown," I answered. "My parents were killed," Michelle said then. "We never had many friends but each other." Everyone seemed to understand that. "What did you do before?" Phil asked pointedly. "We just went to school," Michelle said. "You ought to apply to the mall," Pat said. "They're always looking for cute girls to work in the shops and all the stores share the applications." "Okay," Mary said. "Who's turn is it to cook tonight?" Everyone looked at her and smiled. "Yours," Jo said with a grin. "Oh, shit," Mary said then. "I hoped you'd forgotten. Well, okay." She heaved herself upright with a tired effort and started for the door. "Somebody turn on the news," Doris said. I got up and walked through the doorway into the dining room and then to the kitchen. Mary had her head in the refrigerator but looked around the door as I entered. "Can I help?" I asked. "You bet," she said. "I'm a shitty cook and I hate to do it." "I'm pretty good," I said. I was. I'd been cooking at home quite a bit before we left. "What is there?" I asked. "I don't know," she said. "Looks like some hot dogs. And some potatoes. And some cans of shit over there in the cupboard." I opened the cupboard and saw a good supply of canned fruits and vegetables and chose a couple of cans of corn. "You want to open those, I'll put some hot dogs on. Is there any cornmeal and some canned chili?" "Yeah," she said. "Up there." She pulled out a couple of cans of chili from a cupboard nearer her while I got the box of cornmeal. With her help, fifteen minutes later we had cornbread in the oven, chili warming on the stove, corn in a pot, and hot dogs in boiling water. As I put things together, I watched her beautiful long legs as she bent over, knelt down, and otherwise worked to help. As I stirred things, she leaned against a cupboard and smoked a cigarette as she talked. I found out more about the living arrangement and the likes and dislikes of the other girls from Mary. She claimed that she liked having everyone around and that the place was really dull when even one room was empty. The timer I'd set dinged and I took the steaming cornbread out of the oven. Then we dished up the corn, hot dogs, and chili, carrying it to the table in the dining room. Pat was there, just finishing setting the table. She disappeared into the living room and said, "Soup's on!" There was a stampede of girls into the room then. We passed the bowls of food around with every person doing something different with the hot dogs, cornbread and chili. Some put chili on the hot dogs. Some but chili on the cornbread. And some put them all together. Only Jo didn't like hot dogs and passed on that part of the meal. Everyone ate like they hadn't in weeks. I was pleased. "We have Amy to thank for this," Mary said. "You all know that if I'd done it, it would have been hot dogs and buns and that's it." Everyone agreed with her, chiding her lack of expertise in the kitchen pleasantly. "From now on, I don't go near the kitchen unless Amy is with me." Everyone agree loudly. Mary went back into the kitchen and reappeared with a large package of Oreos. "I baked these last night," she said and everyone played like she really had. Phil and Pat cleared the table and washed the dishes while the rest of us went into the living room and watched television. They returned to join us in about another 15 minutes. Everyone congratulated me on the meal, though it was a simple one made from the things we'd found available in the kitchen. They also took the opportunity to chide Mary on her lack of skills whenever they could. Michelle looked a little out of sorts. "I can cook, too," she said finally. "As well as Amy?" Mary asked. She nodded. "All in favor of Michelle cooking tomorrow night, raise your hand." It was unanimous. There was at least an element of avoidance from everyone in the vote but Michelle still seemed pleased. Michelle and I went up to the room when the 10 o'clock news came on, neither of us interested in what was happening in the world. We were exhausted from our move. "Here," she said, handing me a heavy nightgown as she rooted around in the dresser drawer for a baby doll nightgown for herself. "Never can tell who might come in. You'd better wear the bra, too." I agreed and slid into the nightgown before climbing into bed. Just as I did, there was a knock on the door. Michelle opened it to allow Mary to come in. "Thanks for rescuing me, Amy," she said with a smile. "I just wanted to welcome you both. I think you'll enjoy living here with us." We thanked her and she returned to the still open door. "Do you think we could really get a job at the mall?" Michelle asked. "I'm sure Pat and Phil can help you to make applications. There's a pretty good chance anyway. They are always looking for girls. If you're not too picky about the pay." "We just want to contribute something," I said as I lay under the covers, leaning on one elbow. "Well, don't worry too much about it. Just doing some things around here will be enough for a while. Maybe you could even take over the cooking if you don't find some work. I'll give you a few bucks in the morning to buy some groceries for the next couple of days." "That'd be fine," I said as she left and Michelle closed the door behind her. * * * Michelle turned the lights out before she crawled into the bed next to me, laying on her side, facing away from me. "We've got to get you some more clothes," she whispered. "We'll have to do with mine for a while but that can't last. I think you'd better find a way to get rid of your jockey shorts tomorrow, too. Maybe we can afford to get you some underwear that will hold you that aren't too expensive." I agreed. It got quiet then for quite a while as I thought about the day. Michelle turned toward me and put her hand on my stomach under the covers. "You know, I think Pat and Phil are lovers," she said. "Lesbians?" I asked, startled. "Uh huh. They probably think we are, too." "Really? Why?" "Because of the way you look at me." "How do I look at you? I mean --" "Like you like me. A lot." "I do!" I stammered. "Of course. But it could be misinterpreted." I thought about it for a while then turned and put my hand on her side. She hadn't moved hers from my stomach until I turned. "Would that be bad?" I asked. She started to say something. "Would it be bad if we were lovers?" That wasn't what she'd started to answer, I thought. She didn't say anything. "I like you as a girl," she said without explanation. Then she turned away from me again and allowed me to think about what she'd said. I didn't know how to interpret it. I fell asleep thinking. Chapter 2 Michelle WOKE ME early and sent me to the shower first. Letting me look in the mirror so I could do it on my own later, she did my makeup and hair for me again. Then she helped me to put on a pair of pantyhose, a skirt, blouse, and low heeled shoes before replacing the pearl earrings with another pair. The new holes in my earlobes were only slightly sore as she put the posts of the dangly earrings in for me. We went downstairs and had coffee, toast and jelly before Doris came down to join us. Soon, Mary, Pat, and Phil had joined us and we were told that Jo rarely got up before later in the morning. Mary gave me $20 for food that I put in the purse Michelle had provided me. Pat, Phil, Michelle and I piled into their car and went to the mall at 8 a.m. Since it opens at 9, they had time to take us to the mall personnel office and introduce us to a stuffy little man who ran the office before they went off to start work. We spent a half hour filling out the application forms that were very light on experience and even education since we'd left school before the end of the first semester. We were a long way from high school degrees. The man took our applications and laid them down on the desk in front of him before talking to us. "Okay ladies. What do you think you can offer an employer?" he asked. "We're willing to work hard," I answered self-consciously. "You've got no experience and no education. What makes you think you have the basic skills to do anything at all?" We just stared at him. What did he want? We certainly couldn't get our high school degrees for him and we couldn't get any work experience without his okay. "We both know enough to make change," Michelle said. "We could sell clothes or ... whatever. We promise to work hard," I said. He started to say something else. "We wouldn't require a lot of salary," Michelle said. He smiled at that. "The first positive thing you've said," he stated. "Because you sure as hell won't get much of a salary." He frowned and looked at our applications. "It's just a damn good thing the mall is hard up for people right now," he said. "Otherwise, I'd just throw these away right now and it'd be all over." He turned to a file cabinet and pulled out two folders. He put both of them on the desk closest to us. "I don't much care which of you applies for which job," he said. "The owners have the hiring and firing say. We just handle the applications and the formal things like benefits and paychecks. The names of the owners or managers are on the sheet of paper there at the front. Talk to them. They ought to be in their stores now." He turned away and we stood up, Michelle picking up the file folders. We still knew we had work to do to get hired but at least it looked a little better. "If nothing else," he said as we reached the door, "those short skirts ought to help out. I don't see any other qualifications. But those are nice." His face was nasty and I hoped never to see him again. He was staring at my legs as we went out. * * * Without even looking, Michelle handed me one of the folders and looked at her own. "I'm going to the Hair Factory," she said. "How about you?" "Frederick's of Hollywood," I read. "Good luck." Her smile was devastating. I really loved her. "You, too," I said as we started down the center hallway of the mall. The Hair Factory was three stores away from the hallway from the personnel office. Michelle waved before walking into the door and leaving me alone in the almost empty cavernous building. I had almost walked the length of the mall before I saw the Frederick's of Hollywood sign and walked into the store. A very pretty though somewhat hard looking woman stood behind a cash register as I walked in. She looked up and slowly scanned me from top to bottom with a knowing look. "Can I help you?" she said finally after returning to my face. "Yes. The personnel guy sent me to talk about a job here," I said. She only nodded and held out her hand for the file and my application. "Very well. Come with me," she said as she turned into a hallway at the back of the store. I saw two partially mirrored dressing rooms to the right of the door into the back before pushing the drape aside to follow her. Behind the curtain was a room filled to the top with brown wrappered packages on shelves. To one side was a desk covered with papers. I recognized them as invoices. She sat down as I stood in front of the desk. She studied my application for quite a while though I knew there wasn't that much on it. My name, address and telephone number, the number of years of school and that was about it. "What makes you think you could work here?" she asked. "Nothing, ma'am," I said. "I just need a job. I'm honest and I can make change. That's all I've got." "That's better than half the people who've worked here," she said. "Do you think you could show a little exuberance with customers? Show them the clothes and things?" "Yes, ma'am." "That's the last time I want to be called ma'am. Understood?" she asked looking at me with fire in her eyes. "Yes ... ah," I'd almost done it again. "You learn fast. Good." She looked me up and down again while I looked at her. The blouse she wore was very low cut, dropping between her breasts, the lace up either side of the opening. Even behind her desk, I could see the hem of her extremely short skirt. She had great legs and prominent breasts with a face and hair that made it all work together fantastically. "So," she spit. "How long have you been a girl?" She looked straight at me as my jaw dropped open. "What?" I moaned. Had she said what I thought she said? She leaned forward on her desk, giving me a good look down across her chest, almost to the tips of her ample breasts. She was looking at my application again. "Amy," she said matter-of-factly. "You are a boy, aren't you?" She looked back into my eyes and I gulped, wondering if I should run or what. I didn't say anything. "Listen," she said then. "A third of my business here is older women looking for something to turn their uninterested husbands on again. Another third is guys looking for something for their wives or girlfriends to wear to turn them on. The other third is guys looking for something to wear themselves. Understood? I know which third is which as soon as they walk in the door." I gulped again and croaked out. "Is it ... that obvious?" I asked. She sat back in the chair then and smiled at me. Then she shook her head. "I had a feeling. But I would have believed you if you'd told me you were a girl. You're very good. If it wasn't for your 'breasts,' I wouldn't have known at all. Or even suspected." I looked down at my chest. When I looked up again, she was looking into my eyes with a sparkling smile. "Do you really want to work here?" she asked. "Yes, ma ..." I choked on the ma'am before I said it and she smiled more broadly. "Yes. Yes, I would." "What would you do to work here?" she asked pointedly. "I don't know. What would you want me to do?" She just smiled and looked at me. "Turn around," she said and I did it, looking over my shoulder until I couldn't any more and twisting my head around again quickly to look at her again. She was looking at my body as I turned. She stood up quickly as I completed my pirouette. "Okay. You can work here on two conditions. No three conditions." I waited for her to continue. "First, you'll do everything I tell you to do immediately and without question. Is that understood?" I nodded quickly. "Second," she walked across the packed storeroom to a shelf, running her finger down the wrapped packages. "You'll wear these." She pulled out a package, pulled off part of the brown wrapper, and pulled out a thick plastic wrapped piece of silky material and handed it to me. "And these." She took a few steps further and pulled out a large box, looking into it. "What size? C cup? B? C, I think." She pulled out a box and handed it to me. Leading me back into the main showroom, she pulled a lacy bra and panty set off the rack and handed them to me. "Okay. And third, if I ever catch you stealing from me, you're done and will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Understood?" "Yes, ma'am," I said before I thought. I tried to recover quickly. "I mean, yes." "Try Gloria instead," she said. "I like it better than ma'am." "Yes --" I stumbled. "-- Gloria." "Now get changed. The doors will open in about 15 minutes." As she walked back to the cash register, I went into one of the dressing rooms. Quickly, I ripped open the plastic wrapped package and held the material in front of my eyes in an attempt to identify it. It was a pair of lacy panties with a difference. The back of them had a shaped piece of padding in each cheek. As quick as I could, I slipped out of the pantyhose and shoes and into the panties. I stood up before I put the pantyhose back on and felt the way the padded panties fit tight between my ass cheeks and added to the size of my buns. Pulling my skirt back down, I stripped off my blouse, bra and the stuffing panties inside it. Then I put the new bra on and, leaning from side to side, put the soft silicone-filled breast forms into the cups of the bra. They were very cold at first but before I'd gotten my blouse rebuttoned they were body temperature. I looked in the mirror and smiled as I lifted and dropped them, to see them bounce in the soft bra. They looked very real. I turned around and pulled the skirt tight across my butt and looked at the way the padded panties made my bottom look. I felt pretty and sexy. Something I never had before. I returned to the cash register and Gloria. "Thank you, Gloria," I said, beaming at her. "You're welcome. Actually. The sales 'girls' I hire?" she waited for my nod. "I do the same thing for them. People expect more than real life when they come to this store. I just choose a little less padding on top for them." For the next half hour, she showed me how to operate the cash register and gave a guided tour of the store. Bra and panty sets were near the front. Chemises and teddies on the other side of the door, still at the front. Crotchless panties were in the display case below the register. Body lotions and oils were in that case, too. Sexy nylons, spike heels and some other foot things were back near the back of the room. Lingerie (very sexy nightgowns) were in the middle. Short and tight skirts and see-through blouses were on the other side. She pointed out where the larger sizes of all these things were in spite of the smaller sizes being displayed most prominently. The mall had now been open for quite a while, with people walking up and down through the center corridor. A tight-lipped businesswoman strode into the store then. Gloria nudged me into action, saying, "Your first test, young lady. Let's see how you do?" I walked to the woman as she stopped, looking at the panty and bra sets. "Could I help you?" I asked. "Yes. I'm looking for something for my boss's wife. A birthday or something. What would you suggest?" I thought. What would fill the bill. First there was the question of what the boss's wife would want and then the question of what the boss would want. They were probably different. I thought the boss would probably like something from this store and the wife would probably prefer a nice scarf or new coat or even a designer dress instead. "Who are we trying to please, miss?" I asked. She looked at me funny. "The boss or the boss's wife?" "Oh. I see what you mean," she said with a grin. "All I have to do is please the boss." Now we had a shared secret. "In that case, how big is the boss's wife? Tiny, medium, or portly?" The woman laughed out loud. "Mostly on the portly side, I'd say. Size 16." "Do you think this is an intimate occasion or is it just to get the event over with?" I asked. "Oh, he loves his wife. I think if I could engineer an intimate occasion, I might make some points." She was smiling broadly at me then. "Panties and bras are a woman's pleasure," I stated. "Lingerie is for the two of them to enjoy." "You're right. How about a peignoir?" I wasn't sure what that was and looked quickly at Gloria as I led the woman further into the store. She surreptitiously pointed at the rack directly in front of the cash register. The lingerie rack. With that lead, I quickly showed the woman half a dozen shortie nightgown and flowing, lacy cover combinations. We finally decided on white with little pink bows around the neckline and a pink ribbon tie at the front. An $80 set. I laid the peignoir on the counter by the cash register and returned to the woman as she looked at the peignoir sets. "For you," I said, "it should be a lacy panty and bra set that you could know about even under the most businesslike suit. Or maybe some crotchless panties for your boyfriend. Or a teddy." She grinned at me as if I were one of her best friends. "How about all three?" I asked and half an hour later, she was paying for two teddies, two bra and panty sets, and a peignoir in addition to the one for the boss's wife." Gloria beamed at me as she moved away from the register to let me charge up the sale. It was almost an hour before another customer came into the store and this time, my coercion didn't work. She was looking for something for herself but thought all of our things were too risque. I sold two pairs of thigh high nylons to a woman who wanted something sexy that didn't cost much. After school, I sold a half dozen lacy bras to two high school girls who didn't look like they could really fill them yet. I sold them some cheap padded breast forms to help fill them out and wondered how much their mothers would hate them when they found them. Everything dropped off from about 5 to 6 and then picked up again after everyone had their dinner. Gloria gave me money for hamburgers and I stopped at the Hair Factory to see Michelle on the way by. At the time, she was just finishing doing a manicure on some old lady. She told me she was doing manicures, pedicures, and taking care of the register and appointment book. She seemed happy. I got the hamburgers and enjoyed three young guys who followed me back to the store after I'd bought them. We ate at the counter while we talked. She seemed happy with my work during the day. After we'd eaten, she said she had some paperwork to do in the back and left me to wait on customers. After my dinner, I waited on several groups of high school aged girls and three or four couples shopping together. I had reasonably good luck with the couples and better luck with the girls who all seemed to want the same thing - - big tits without waiting. The business dropped off again the closer it got to closing time. Then the man came in. He was a small, middle-aged man who walked all around the store, touching and looking at everything while I finished with another customer. When she had left, I went to the man and asked if I could help. "Ah," he said, looking very nervous. "Yes. I, ah, don't know very much about sizes. Women's sizes, you know." I nodded and waited. "I, ah, want to buy something for my, ah, girlfriend." He was a terrible liar. Thanks to Gloria, I'd learned a lot about sizes during the day. I'd started guessing women's sizes as they shopped and, by now, could guess very close. I also knew my own sizes now. "Can you describe her?" I asked. "Well, she's my size. About a 30 waist." I guessed that to be pretty close to his waist size. "A, ah, 36 chest." "What cup size? Do you know?" "Probably, ah, say C?" He wouldn't meet my eyes and was actually sweating. "Let me show you some things, then," I said and started with the panty and bra sets. He liked them all but settled for one lacy white set. As I showed him the teddies, I spoke softly to him. "For you, sir?" His head bounded up and his mouth fell open as he looked at me but I didn't try to meet his eyes this time. "Ah, yeah," he whispered. "Okay. That's much easier then. For one thing, we can try some things on to make sure they're right." The blood drained out of his face at that. "The dressing rooms are very private and I don't think there's going to be much more business tonight." I guided him toward the corsets that would shape his waist somewhat and provide solid support for breast forms. He picked one out. I told him about the silicone breast forms and he seemed nervously interested. I went to the back and, as quickly as I could, chose a pair the right size and returned to him with a wink at Gloria. Looking at the price tag on them was the first time I'd seen how expensive they are. I put all his prospective purchases in a dressing room and returned to him. "Now shoes and stockings," I said. "What's the size?" "My size?" he stuttered. I nodded. He gulped and told me. I showed him half a dozen pairs of shoes I thought would be the right size since I knew the women's sizes would be a little larger than the men's sizes. "Sheer pantyhose? Opaque? Or maybe thigh high?" He chose thigh high and opaque. I showed him the trying room and securely shut the door behind him as he went in. As I stood behind the cash register, I knew a little of what he was feeling as he tried on the silky material. I wanted to do some of that at another time. I could imagine him standing in those spike heels for the first time. It was vicariously exciting. It was nearly a half hour later when he came back to the register and told me he'd take everything. He seemed much less nervous and very happy. When he put everything beside the register so I could tally it up, the panties were missing. I mentioned it softly and he pulled a corner of them out of his sports coat pocket to show me but pushed them back in immediately. He'd beat off in the panties. I just knew it. The total price was enormous, as far as I was concerned. But he happily paid for it in cash. He smiled and even waved as he left the store. I told him to come back again and he said that I should plan on it. Almost the minute he left, Gloria came to me and hugged me. "You were perfect," she said. "Darling, we're going to make a mint working together. "I'll tell you what. I'm going to come in at 9 tomorrow to open for you but you'll have it until 5. I'll come back in about 4 or so and stay to closing. To start, I'll pay you minimum wage for a salary and give you 10 percent of what you sell. Okay?" I nodded. "I want you to work all the weekdays because that's when most of the guys come in -- during the day, during the week. And, if you can, about four hours in the morning Saturdays. I'll take Sundays. Okay?" I smiled and nodded happily. "Oh, and 40 percent off of anything you buy, including the stuff you're wearing now. Okay? Pay me when you get paid. What you can afford." I agree immediately, of course. I was wondering how I'd ever be able to afford the expensive breast forms. I met Michelle as she left her hair place. She too would be working 9 to 5 for minimum wage and tips from the manicures and pedicures. We were set up. The girls at the house were excited with our good fortune but, momentarily, pissed that I hadn't bought food for dinner. When I produced a big sack of hamburgers and fries, they forgave me even though they weren't as hot as when I bought them. Chapter 3 THOUGH TIRED FROM my first extended day of work, I got up happily the next morning, dressed with Michelle's help, and, with Pat and Phil, went to work. The day seemed to whiz by as I took care of a slow but steady customer load. The remainder of the week went along in the same way with the half day Saturday almost like a holiday. Michelle and I had worked out what our share should be for our food and housing with Mary and Doris, who we found acted as a sort of house referee and manager. I had the majority of my Saturday paycheck left over when I subtracted my share. Actually, the 10 percent commission I had been getting all through the week more than paid for that share. Being a woman now, I went straight to Pat and Phil's store before leaving the mall. They'd told me to stop by but they hadn't told me the deal they could work with me until I got there and started looking at clothes. "Amy. You pick out some things and Pat or I will buy it for you with our employee discount and bring it home for you," Phil said. They seemed to be pleased they could do it for me and I was really happy it would cost so much less. Since I'd already picked out a couple of panty and bra sets, and a peignoir for myself at Frederick's during the week, I stuck to a couple of really neat dresses and some skirts and blouses. I'd bought bras that exactly fit my breast forms since I had time during the week to try them in several until I found some that were perfect. That meant that they could be really lacy without fear of discovery. And now, because they were so good, I could buy any blouse or dress I wanted whose necklines didn't fall below the top and straps of my bras. I'd also picked panties or teddies and pantyhose that gave me the right support so I didn't have to worry about showing in any skirt. I'd even tried on a pair of Michelle's shorts and a pair of her jeans and found that if they weren't tight between the legs, I could wear them. I didn't really like tucking in, as we called it, but I could do it if I needed to. It was just a lot more comfortable if I tucked down in pantyhose or just stayed straight in loose- fronted things. I worked hard at not getting turned on, that prevented a lot of problems, but sometimes, like shopping, I knew it was going to happen and prepared in a bathroom before I started. Michelle showed me a nurse's trick she'd heard about from an aunt or somebody. You just flick it at the base with one finger if you are getting hard, and it goes away. She said nurses do that all the time. It sure worked the couple of times I needed it in the store. The longest skirt I chose at Pat and Phil's was about 20 inches long and had a little slit in the side. The shortest one I picked was probably about 16 inches. I had to check that one in the mirror while I was sitting down to make sure I wouldn't show in the tucked down position. I didn't but I think I'd better do something else if I think I might get excited wearing it. One of the dresses is a nylon thing that's really lightweight so it feels like I'm not wearing anything and is cut right down to the top of my bra. The other one is really fine off-white lace that covers my arms and all the way around my neck but is almost see-through. The skirt has a little built-in half slip. I tried on all the Frederick's shoes during the week but all of them have too high heels. I'm not that good with high heels yet anyway. But these were silly, they were so high. After I left Pat and Phil's, I went to the shoe store and got a pair of white street pumps that have a sharp toe but no sides or heel backs with a little ankle strap that holds them on. Then I got a pair of black patent leather ones, too. They have about 3 inch heels that aren't too high but are more than my work shoes. Next week I'll start buying a little costume jewelry so I can wear something besides Michelle's. When I stopped to talk to Michelle at the Hair Factory, she introduced me to a bunch of the girls that work there. One of them, Marjorie, wants to do my hair and said she'd do it at the end of the day some day so she wouldn't have to charge me full price. That way I can get a real perm and a hairstyle done by a real professional. * * * Bob came in this afternoon again. He's been in two or three times since I helped him that first night to buy more stuff. Each time, he's a lot less nervous even though one of the times there were some women in the store. He still looked around until they left, instead of running out or something, and bought a bra before he left. He told me he was wearing the panties all the time now and that he'd even bought some for everyday at the J. C. Penney store. He said he wore a teddy to work one day and nobody said anything but he felt like everyone could see it through his shirt so he won't do that again. He also said he'd bought a long wig the same color as his hair and that it really felt neat to wear it. I guess he has his own apartment. * * * I think the third morning, I did my own makeup and, after Michelle said I did okay, have been doing it every day since. One day after work, I went to the big department store that anchors one end of the mall. They had a woman at the cosmetics counter that was doing color tests and showing how to take advantage of your best features. She said I was a "spring", I guess because of my green eyes, and showed me my best colors. I spent about an hour with her showing me all the best ways to do eye shadow, blush, contour shading, lipstick, and all the rest of the stuff. I ended up getting the smallest bottles of stuff I could for daytime and, next week, she's going to help me with nighttime makeup and I'll buy some of it, too. I think it'd be funny if I got better at it than Michelle. I don't think I will though since the Hair Factory has a cosmetics woman, too, who's promised her to show her some things. She's a "winter" blond because of her really light skin and blue eyes. Her hair's almost white instead of being sort of dishwater blond like mine. * * * The girls at the house have all been really super. They made us feel comfortable right away. Phillis is probably the least friendly. She seems like she's almost jealous whenever somebody talks to Pat. The other night, we were all watching TV and I was sitting on the couch next to Pat. Well when Phil came in, she sat right down between us even though it was a little close and there was an empty chair right on the other side of me. She doesn't like the bean bag stuff chairs anyway. She says it makes her feel like she's sitting on the floor. Mary, who looks a bunch more high class than the rest of us, just plops into those stuff chairs like nothing. Even if sitting like that pulls her short skirts up to her panties, she just crosses her ankles or her knees and goes ahead and sits there. Sometimes, she turns her legs to the side and sits on them or something. I think she's about the coolest woman of the bunch. She doesn't let being a woman go to her head. And she sure doesn't rub in the fact that she's a model while the rest of us are just salesgirls and stuff. Doris was made to be an executive secretary like she is. I mean, she just naturally takes over all the details. Mary sort of sets general policy but Doris takes care of everything from there. Jo just takes life easy. She does clean up the house during the day. Everywhere but the rooms that are everybody's own responsibility. Mostly Jo just watches TV or goes out with some of her friends. Pat is probably the sweetest girl in the place and is always a pretty quiet lady. I mean that in a good way. She really is a lady. Mostly, when I ask her a question or something, Phil pops in with the answer and Pat just smiles and agrees. I think she lets Phil run over her too much. But I guess everyone is comfortable with different things. Last night though, I think I heard Pat and Phil doing something together. I hadn't fallen asleep right away and after a while, I heard some talk and then some moaning and stuff. I really do think they're lesbians now, and that they were making love to each other. It doesn't bother me any. After all, I'm not everything that the people here think I am either. * * * This week, as well as filling out my wardrobe some and finishing my makeup lessons and getting my hair done right, each of the girls came into the store. Mary and Doris bought really sexy underthings and were excited about having that secret under their work clothes. Mary, of course, has modeled a lot of underwear and stuff so sexy stuff is nothing new. But I still thought it was pretty funny to know these women, in their classy outfits, had my kind of underwear on underneath. I'll bet if Doris's bosses knew, they'd freak out since she's the one with the longer skirts and suits and everything. She bought a garter belt and crotchless panties, too. They'd really freak at that, I'll bet. Jo came in, too, and got a bunch of stuff. After I told Gloria what I was doing, I bought the stuff for her on my employee discount, like Pat and Phil did for me. Pat and Phil came in, too, and I did the same thing for them. Pat was sort of embarrassed but she bought some really sexy underthings and a dildo. We don't put those out in a display case or anything but anybody who buys the catalogue knows the store sells them. It was a little gold headed vibrator, really, but it's shaped like a penis. She's sort of bashful and said it was to massage out the sore muscles she gets in her legs from standing all day. I don't know. Maybe that's the truth. Phil came in a different time and bought a set of the really provocative leather underwear that has the chains and stuff on it and a split between the legs and little snap on covers for the nipples on the top part. She also bought the first pair of those really high leather boots that anybody has since I worked here. They're really expensive so I checked specially with Gloria before I put that on my employee discount. She came back later and bought a black corset with garters on it and black nylons. The spike heels I thought were tacky but she likes them. I've sold quite a few of those to women so I guess maybe I don't know what I'm talking about. * * * Bob came in two days this week. Well, I sort of made him come back the second time because the first time, he asked me if he could make dinner for me Saturday. I wanted to talk to Michelle first and, since she thought it was okay, I told him okay when he came back the second time. I took my shower after work Saturday and spent extra time doing my hair and makeup. Then I dressed in my lace dress for the first time out. It really was a date, after all, and I wanted to look as pretty as I could. I even did my nighttime makeup for the first time. I was ready and sitting in the living room watching TV with Jo, Michelle, and Doris when the doorbell rang. Jo answered the door and made Bob come in to the living room just like a kid picking up a date or something. He was a little embarrassed but let me introduce him to everyone before we left. It was pretty neat to have a guy walk close to me with his hand in the middle of my back to guide me to his car and then open the door for me. It made me feel like a real lady for the first time. I'd gotten a little use to being just "one of the girls" at the house. But this was different and nice. We drove quite a ways before he pulled into the parking lot of an apartment house and came around the car to open the door for me again. He guided me again up to his apartment on the top of the building. I was impressed. It's a beautiful place and very expensive. He put on some music first and then showed me his balcony. Through a pair of sliding glass doors, the balcony looks out over the city and even has a little bit of a view of the bay, though there are some other buildings in the way. That sort of told me that he's pretty well off but that he's not a millionaire or anything like that. He asked me if I wanted a drink and I said I did but I didn't know what, that I didn't drink very much. Actually, this would be my first drink. He suggested white wine and that sounded okay and tasted even better. He wanted me to sit down or look at the view from the balcony or something but I followed him to the kitchen instead. It was pretty messed up but was clean and very modern. Different from the house where all the appliances were usable but pretty old and just white. His were all black fronts and shiny chrome. He even had a butcher block built right into the top of the cupboard where he could work. I watched him stir some sauce and put on spaghetti. Then he cut up vegetables for a salad while garlic bread heated up. While he got the spaghetti and sauce to the table, I took the garlic bread and salads. He held my chair for me before he sat down. Then he poured red wine for both of us even though I'd just finished my white wine. I tried to remember my manners while I wolfed down two helpings of spaghetti, all my salad with Italian dressing, and about four pieces of garlic bread. Somehow, I made it through without getting splatters of sauce all over my new dress. He asked if I wanted ice cream but I was finally too full to hold anything more. So we sat at the table for a little while and just talked as we finished the last of the bottle of wine. Finally he got really serious looking and said, "You know what I am, right Amy?" "No. What?" I asked innocently. "You know the things I buy from you at Frederick's. You know I like to wear those things." "Yeah," I said. Of course I knew that. I thought he meant something different. "That makes me a transvestite." I'd never heard the word before but it didn't bother me. I didn't know what I'd been doing had a name. "Some people call it cross-dressing." "Yeah, maybe," I said then, a little irritated with the feeling I was getting that he thought it was bad or something. I sure didn't. "But girls dress in guys' clothes all the time. What's wrong with that?" He grinned at me. "You are a very unusual person," he said. "Most people think of this as a kind of perversion." I thought about it. I guessed it was true but it didn't seem right to me. "Do you like it? To dress in panties and things?" I asked. He nodded and smiled at me as he held his wine glass in both hands. "Do you do bad things because of it?" "No," he said pointedly. "I've read up on it quite a lot. There hasn't been a recorded case of a cross dresser doing anything wrong or bad. I don't know. Maybe more of them have homosexual affairs or something. But the information about it says that isn't as likely as with the rest of the populace." "Then, if it doesn't hurt anybody and you sure aren't going around telling everybody about it, what does it matter?" It seemed obvious to me. He laughed loudly. "Okay, Amy. I'm at least convinced that you don't care. I wish that no one else did. But," he seemed to think, "maybe that's part of the draw of the thing. The chance for discovery. The excitement of it." "I think that if anyone else knew, they probably wouldn't even care," I said. "My dear old mother would," he said with a little grin. "How do you know? Have you asked her?" He roared his laughter then. "You're wonderful, Amy," he said with twinkling eyes. "You really make me feel quite normal." "Good," I said. "Shall we do the dishes?" I started to pick up my plate and he put up his hand. "No way. You can help me clear the table and that's all. Understood?" I nodded my agreement and then slid my chair back and picked up some dishes. It took three trips each and about five minutes to clear the table and clean off the tablecloth. "Amy?" he said finally as he watched me finish the clean-up. "I have a favor to ask." "So ask," I said. He hemmed and hawed around for a while until I wondered what he wanted. Then he finally seemed to get his courage up and opened his mouth. It still stuck for a minute. "Amy, would you help me?" I couldn't figure what he meant and I'm sure I was looking at him strangely. "Help me to dress and ... ah, make up and ... you know." "You mean to dress as a woman?" I asked. It seemed strange that he would be this nervous with me after all the things I'd sold him, but he still was. "You mean hold your dress or what?" "No, no," he said quickly with his hands in front of himself. "I know how to get dressed. I just don't know anything about makeup and how to act and . . . you know. Be a woman for a little while. Just a little while." "Oh," I said, dismissing it with a wave. "Just that? I thought you wanted something big." I had been worried that he wanted to make love to me or something and I didn't know how to react to that for sure. "Do you have makeup and stuff?" He nodded. "Well, go get it and lets work here at the table where we can see. Okay? Do you have a hand mirror or something so you can see what to do?" He was smiling and almost bounded between me and the door to his bedroom. Finally he made his decision and went through the door. In a moment, he was back with an armload of cosmetics, a makeup mirror, and a towel. He took off his sports coat and shirt and sat down in his teeshirt at the end of the table nearest me. For the next hour, I told him how to put mascara and lipstick and eye shadow and stuff on. I kept telling him how lucky it was that I'd had my lessons from the cosmetics lady at the Sears store the week before. I got done finally and he seemed to think he could do it again if he had to. I knew from experience that it would take a few times before he got it looking as good as this again. I sent him off to the bedroom to get dressed and went through his tapes and CD's to see what I liked. I picked out a couple of things and started a CD before he returned. "Wow!" I said, maybe a little stronger than I really felt. But he'd done a pretty good job of picking out clothes. His skirt was longer than I like and the red blouse was too complete a cover for me, but he looked pretty good. With his wig on, his face didn't look as much like a mask as it had before. "I think maybe we got a little too much mascara on. But other than that you look great!" "Thanks," he said breathlessly, his smile and blush showing plainly. He did look good. Like an older woman, maybe 30 or something. "I think your voice has to be higher," I said. "Try it." He did and sounded phoney. "No. Lower but real quiet maybe. Like Marilyn Monroe or something." He turned sideways to me and slid his hand down his hip almost to his knee. "Come up and see me some time," he moaned. More phoney but at least it was funny. "Okay, sit down and cross your legs," I said, smiling at his funny walk in the high heels he was wearing. The dress was all spangly with sequins and really ugly. But his shape was right. His walk was really phoney, too. Too forced. He sat down in an upholstered chair and crossed his legs right but cringed in pain. I bet myself that he'd tucked it between like I had to sometimes. And that hurt if you weren't real careful. "What's wrong?" I asked innocently. "I just crushed something I would have rather not crushed," he said. "I'll bet you put you penis back between your legs," I said. He flushed and nodded. "It would probably be more comfortable if you just pointed it down inside your pantyhose or maybe you could get away with it normal with this heavy dress." He got up and walked gingerly across the room and back into the bedroom. He'd hardly left when he returned, walked to the chair, and sat down again, crossing his legs at the knee. "Thanks. That's better." "Okay. Now, if you want to look like a feminine woman, when you walk, take shorter steps and try to walk one foot in front of the other in a line ..." I suggested things to him for more than an hour. He listened and then tried things like walking and talking and shaking hands and all sorts of things. Every time he moved, I'd think of something else. It surprised me a lot that I actually knew all these things and did them without thinking about it at all. Michelle had given me a little bit of training but not on hardly any of the things Bob and I talked about. Finally, I thought that I'd passed on all the information I could without watching how he applied it and stopped. "Would you show me your clothes?" I asked after a minute. I wondered if he just had bad taste, like this sequined dress, or if he had been trying to show me something I didn't understand. Following my advice on how to walk and move, he led the way into his bedroom. It was a beautiful room with satin sheets on the bed and nice furniture. The dresser was huge. He walked to it and showed me two drawers full of things he'd bought from me in the last two weeks, along with a few other things he must have gotten before. Then he went to one of the his and hers closets and opened the doors. There were four pairs of shoes, including some I'd sold him, laying on the floor. Three other dresses hung there -- a lace one like the one I was wearing, a white sweater dress, and a short, low-cut leather dress. "Nice," I said. What he had was okay maybe but nobody would wear any of these outfits out anywhere but a really wild place like a disco or something. Maybe to a fancy restaurant where everyone wears tuxedos. I didn't know about that. He probably had a couple of dozen nightgowns and a whole drawer stuffed with panties and bras and teddies. I thought he rarely got as far as putting on a dress but mostly just liked the underthings. "Bob? You told me you were wearing panties sometimes to work." He nodded. "Sometimes, you wear nighties to bed, too, right?" He nodded again and crossed his arms. He was wondering what my point was, I think. "But you never wear anything else out of your apartment, do you? These dresses don't look like you've even worn them," I noted. "Yeah. I've worn them a couple of times each. To watch TV and eat dinner and that sort of thing. But that's all." "Do you like women dressed in these kinds of things?" He looked at the dresses and sort of nodded. "But, Bob. I've never seen anyone wear dresses like this except for the sweater dress. And, I guess, your lace dress is a lot like the dress I'm wearing except it's fancier." "Yeah, I guess you're right." "What I'm asking, I guess, is what would you wear if we went out together sometime?" I let the question hang in the silent room. He gulped nervously like he had when I first met him in the store. His hands fluttered. "I-I never --" "You never planned to go out, did you?" I asked. "Huh uh," he stumbled. "What would you do if I wanted to go out with you?" He actually wrung his hands like they do in the old movies when they're really scared or nervous. "I don't know," he finally sputtered out. "Well, I guess you better come in to the mall the beginning of the week, sometime during the day when the business is light, and I'll take you to the store that Pat and Phil work in so you can pick out some clothes you could really wear." Chapter 4 I'D TALKED TO Pat Sunday as we watched TV alone for a few minutes and told her about Bob. She thought it was funny that a guy would want to dress up like a girl but she didn't really care. Bob was there at 9, when the mall opened and, luckily, before Gloria had left. He was carrying a briefcase in one hand like I'd told him to. I asked her to watch the store for just a few minutes and that I'd be right back. She agreed with no problem since she had a couple of things to do before she planned to leave anyway. When