The New Office Boy free porn video

The new Office Boy, By Meryl Davids Peter was looking foreword to starting his Job, he hated school and had left when he turned sixteen last week; the fact that he got a job straight away had pleased him, and had stopped his mother from complaining at how stupid he had been to leave school with no qualifications. He had dressed himself in his suit, he only had one, his mother didn't earn much so he was used to not having many clothes. At least she realised that he would be able to contribute to the housekeeping now, instead of just taking money from her. Peter started out early to work, he had decided that he could walk, to save on the bus fare; he thought that he could buy a bike, or a moped when he started earning some money. He arrived early at the office block where he was to work, and introduced himself to the receptionist, who checked her notes, and told him to sit and wait in the reception area until Miss Smith arrived, as she wasn't expecting him. Peter sat and waited, he noticed that there seemed to be more women than men coming to work. Eventually a smartly dressed middle-aged woman came in, and the receptionist asked her to the desk, Peter couldn't hear what was said, but the woman looked at him, and then walked over to where he was sitting. She introduced herself, Peter handed her the letter he had received, she looked at it, then told him to go with her, it turned out that she was from human resources, Peter had no idea what that meant, but went with her anyway. He sat in the office whilst Miss Smith passed him a number of forms to sign, she seemed to be quite pleasant, and informed him that he would be placed with someone to teach him what to do. Then they left her office, and she showed him round what seemed like a rabbit warren. He lost track of where he was going very quickly, until they came to a large open office, where there were about ten women on the telephone, with computers in front of them, and another woman facing them whose desk seemed to be on a higher level. This woman left her desk and came over to see them, and introduced herself as Miss Jones, she was the supervisor of the department that Peter was going to learn first, apparently, it was something to do with sales, she said, "I wasn't expecting a boy", which puzzled Peter. Miss Jones welcomed him, and showed him to a desk where a middle-aged woman was sitting. "This is Mrs. Higgs, stay with her today, and she will show you how to use the computer when we get a call." Mrs. Higgs looked surprised, "I thought we were having a new girl," she said, "so did I" replied Miss Jones, "but this is Peter, I think that Petra must have been a spelling mistake". Peter blushed at the thought that he had got a job where they thought he was a girl, but sat down with Mrs. Higgs. "Call me Betty", she said smiling at him as he sat down, "I don't know how much you know about us, but in this office we mainly sell ladies clothing, and shoes, most of it is incoming calls, but we do some cold calling as well. Peter said that he didn't know what the firm did, he had just written to a few firms, and asked if they had any vacancies, because his mother was nagging him about leaving school. Peter sat with Betty for the morning, and watched what she was doing, and how the computer worked in conjunction with the phone calls. He was very surprised that most of the sales involved underwear, and the amount of men that were making orders. At lunchtime, he met the "other girls" in the office, apart from the ones who staffed the phones for that period, they all said how nice it was to have a boy in the office, they had expected a girl; it turned out that he was the only male working in the department. He discovered that he should have taken something to eat, because there wasn't a canteen available, it had burnt down, and as yet hadn't been replaced, but a girl called Susan was going out, and promised to get him a sandwich. Peter was quick to learn, and by the end of the week, he was allowed to operate a workstation on his own. He had got used to the strange things that some people were buying, although he did ask Betty if she thought that some of the men were buying the clothes for themselves, given the sizes they were ordering. She just smiled, and said it was always a possibility. Peter said that he didn't think men actually did that, although he had read Catcher in the Rye, he thought that was just fiction. What was more disconcerting was the amount of times the callers referred to him as Miss, Betty said it was probably because his voice hadn't broken, and they would be expecting to talk to a female anyway. Peter was pondering this thought, firstly, they had expected a girl, and got his name wrong, and now he had callers thinking he was a girl as well. He decided to answer the Phone as Petra and see if the caller noticed; he hadn't heard of the girls name Peta so he didn't consider that his own name could as easily be mistaken. Peter was getting settled into the job, a few weeks later, when he was told that he could have a staff discount on any clothes he wanted to buy from the firm, he laughed and said he didn't think anything would suit him, but he might let his mother see the catalogue. He repeated this, later on, when he was sat with the girls at lunchtime, and was surprised when one of the girls from the warehouse department asked him how he could sell stuff that he hadn't tried on, or at least seen. "Well it's all girls' stuff isn't it"? he answered. "Yes, but you have been answering the Phone calling yourself Petra," said Miss Jones, apparently she monitored the phones. "Well I have so many people thinking I'm a girl on the phone, I thought it might be easier to let them to think I am, with what they are buying", he answered. No more was said at the time, but the following day the girl from the warehouse bought some underwear up for him to look at. He was very embarrassed at having these things so close to him, he hadn't been out with a girl, and his mother didn't leave her stuff lying around. "I'll leave them with you, because I'm not on my break", she said. Peter felt self-conscious about the women in the office seeing him look at them, and put them into the drawer in his desk. They were still there when Peter went into work on Monday morning, he had been a bit late, and forgotten to take his lunch with him, by this time, he was accepted as part of the team by the others. At lunchtime, he decided to go to the sandwich van down the road. Susan asked him, as he was going out, would he would drop into the cleaners for her, as it was raining, and she needed to pick up some clothes. Peter felt that he owed her a favour from when she had bought him a sandwich, and didn't ask for the money, so he agreed. Peter went to the Sandwich shop first as it was furthest away, when he came out the rain had got stronger, so he ran to the cleaners to get Susan's stuff. He came out to a downpour; he was walking with his head down into the rain, without looking at anything other than the footpath directly in front of him. He didn't notice the car, belonging to a young lad, with his mates on board, coming behind him, and he was walking close to the verge past a deep puddle, the lad in the car couldn't resist it, and he drove into the puddle accelerating all the way. Peter was hit by the splash, and soaked to the skin. He got back to work, and the girls were all concerned, and kind to him about it. "At least your clothes are all right," he told Susan, "the water didn't get into the bag". "I think you need to get out of those clothes", said Betty, "I can't" said Peter, "I'd have to go home, and I've lost my key so I can't get in until my mom gets home". "You can borrow my suit and blouse then", said Susan, "and you have some underwear in your drawer as well so that isn't a problem", she continued. "It is" said Peter, "it's all girls stuff, and I'm a boy". "That isn't what you've been saying on the phone though is it Peter"? asked Miss Jones, "and anyway no one else will see you, we can try to dry your clothes out on the radiators if you take them off". "Do I have to", asked Peter, he hadn't quite got into the idea that all the women couldn't tell him what to do, he still thought of all the adults being like his mother, or teachers. "It would be the best idea, although you will have to buy the stuff from the factory, because we won't be able to sell it afterwards". Peter wasn't listening; he was too worried about being laughed at. Peter reluctantly admitted that it was probably the only thing he could do, and went with Miss Jones, and Susan to the toilets, he was used to going to the same one as the women because there wasn't a separate one for men, he had been surprised by the different noise that women make. He entered one of the stalls, and stripped off, putting his clothes into a plastic bag. Miss Jones had found a towel, and passed it to him to dry himself off. Once he had done that, she passed him a pair of deep pink knickers, which had some padding on the back, and white lace around the legs, and told him that they were a gaff, and he would need to put his Willy into the pocket at the bottom of the knickers, so that it would go between his legs. Peter didn't know why, but did as he was told. When he had them on, she told him to come out so that they could help him with the rest of the clothes. "I can't come out wearing these", he said, "I look stupid". "Well you can't stay in there all day, you have work to do", said Miss Jones. Peter unlocked the door and came out of the stall, he felt stupid wearing the knickers, and was very embarrassed, Miss Jones gave him a hug, and told him that there wasn't a lot of difference to wearing his own pants; he wasn't convinced. "Just let us finish getting you dressed, and then you can see what you look like". She told him to put his arms out straight in front of him, he did, and she quickly slipped a Bra that matched the knickers up his arms, it had lace across the top of the cups, and Susan fastened it behind him. The bra had silicone inserts, which made it look like Peter had a small pair of tits, about the same size as Susan's. "I can't wear this", he said, but found that he couldn't get his arm up his back to unfasten it. "Yes, you can, and it will make your clothes fit better". Susan handed him a white blouse, and buttoned it up for him, because of the buttons being on the wrong side. "See this wouldn't have been right without your bra" he was told, "it would have been baggy here, she said placing her hands on his tits". She told him to sit down on the toilet, and asked Miss Jones what they were going to do about his shoes, she said she would sort that out, and went off out of the toilets. Susan opened a packet of black tights, and rolled them up before putting them on to his legs, because she thought that he might ladder them. "I really feel stupid like this," he told Susan. "Why"? Susan asked. "Well these clothes are just daft, why on earth do they have to have lace, and be this colour, and button up on the wrong side"? He replied. "Because we girls have to be pretty, to attract men, and the buttons go back to when women were dressed by their maids", she answered. Miss Jones wasn't very long and returned with a pair of shoes, which she placed on to Peter's feet, "lovely fit" she said as she pushed them on, they were black, and only seemed to cover his toes over the top, Peter knew that they were girls shoes, his mother had something similar. "Why can't I wear my own shoes"? he asked. "Because they are all wet, and anyway they wouldn't go with your clothes", answered Miss Jones. They told him to stand up, he was surprised, they had a one-inch heel, which was a bit above what he was used to, but he managed to be able to walk in them. They had him step into the pale grey skirt, it was a straight skirt, and fairly tight around his legs, with two kick pleats front and back, with a hemline which came to just below his knees, Susan pulled it up to his waist, and fastened it behind him. He then had to step into a slip, which matched his bra, and knickers, but the lace was two inches long around the bottom, Susan pulled it up under his skirt, and then smoothed everything down, before getting him to put on the jacket, which matched the skirt to make a suit. They let him look at himself in a full-length mirror just outside the toilet door; he was surprised, as he saw a smartly dressed girl looking back at him. "I've never worn a suit that looks as smart as this before", he said, amazed at how he looked. The jacket only came down to his waist, it was in no way anything other than female wear. Miss Jones brushed his hair, which was at that point of being long for a boy but short for a girl, so that it parted on the right instead of the left, and he looked every inch like a young girl. "I don't think she needs any make up", said Susan. Peter said, "thank you I don't want any make up, and I am a boy". "Well make up or not; you don't look anything like a boy", said Miss Jones. They took him back to the department, where everyone was amazed at how he looked. "You know with a bit of make up, we could make you look 18, as a boy you don't even look like you are 16", said Millie. "I'd rather not thank you", said Peter, why did they all want him to wear make up? "Well it's my Hen Party next Saturday, all the other girls are coming, but you can't come if you look like a 16-year-old boy, because it's at a club", said Millie. Peter felt a little deflated that he couldn't go to a party with the others, but he couldn't go out dressed like this could he. "Well just have a think about it, there is a spare place if you want it", continued Millie. Peter and the others went back to work, he was still answering the phone as Petra, with how he was dressed it seemed appropriate anyway, he was surprised that he felt comfortable wearing these clothes, although a little embarrassed every time that one of the girls smiled at him. The shift ended, and it was time to go home. Miss Jones told him that his clothes were still wet. "Well it's still raining" he said, "so they would only get wet anyway". "No, I'll take you home" she said, "I've put your clothes into a bag for you". Peter wasn't too happy about this, he wanted his trousers back, he was embarrassed by wearing girls' clothes in the office, now he would have to go outside, and what would his mother say. Miss Jones was having none of it, she insisted it was, the only thing he could do. Reluctantly he followed Miss Jones to her car, they ran through the rain, Peter was surprised at the noise his shoes made, and the way the rain felt on his legs. He had difficulty trying to get into the car, because the skirt restricted the movement in his legs, Miss Jones giggled, and told him to sit down then swing his legs in. He did as he was told, and managed to get into the car. Miss Jones got into the drivers seat, and started the engine. Peter could feel the air from the heater on his legs, it was cold as the engine hadn't got warm, and didn't feel like anything that he had felt before. This was all very strange. He tried to sit low in the seat in case he was seen by anyone he knew. Miss Jones got to his house, and said she would come with him to explain to his mother what had happened, she carried his bag of clothes for him. "Mrs Beard"? inquired Miss Jones, when she answered the door, "yes can I help you ladies", she answered. "I'm Peter's supervisor, and I think I might need to explain something, turn round Peter", she said, Peter had turned his back to the door, while they waited for it to be answered. Peter turned around; his mothers mouth dropped in shock when she saw it was him, "come in" she said, and told them to sit down in the front room. Peter wanted to get changed, but his mother told him he could do that after she knew what was going on. He followed Miss Jones into the front room, his mother used it for guests, and sat down, and his legs were almost together because the skirt was too tight to allow them to part much. His mother turned on the fire to warm the room, "well". she asked. Miss Jones told his mother what had happened, and why he was dressed that way. "Why didn't you let them make you up", asked his mother, "You couldn't have looked bad, and dressed like that you look like a girl anyway". "Can I get changed now?, asked Peter, his mother said no, his meal was cooked, and she asked Miss Jones if she wanted to stay for something to eat, Miss Jones replied that as she had no one at home she would be pleased to stay. She asked Peter to set the table for her, which he did, and the three of them sat down to eat their meal. Peter was feeling silly wearing the girls clothes while he was eating his meal, he wasn't really listening to the two women who were chatting to each other. He suddenly took notice when he heard his mother mention that she wasn't used to seeing him dressed that smartly, his own suit was a bit past it, and it was an improvement of sorts, Miss Jones had laughed, and told her about the invite that Peter had been given to go to the hen party. "Are you going to go"? Peter's mother asked him. "No; it's only for girls", he answered. "Well I agree with the others; with a bit of make up you could look 18". Peter would have liked to go, he liked parties, and he had never been out to a nightclub, however having to go, as a girl didn't really grab him. "Can I get changed now"? he asked his mother. "No dear", she replied, "you have to wash up first". This was disturbing Peter, why did his mother keep saying he couldn't get changed, he picked up the plates and cutlery from the table, and went off to wash up, at least he was able to take the jacket off. Peter returned to the front room, minus his jacket, and said he had washed up, and was going to get changed, but again his mother told him to stay and sit down, he did as he was told. Miss Jones commented on how well behaved he was. "Miss Jones tells me that you pretend to be a girl on the phone", she said, "She also said that they were expecting a girl when they appointed you, and you are now dressed as a girl". "Oh by the way Susan rang Miss Jones on her mobile, she says you can keep her clothes, as they fit you, and she was only going to give them to the charity shop, but they needed cleaning before she took them. She says that she has some more, if you want them, including a nice dress to go to the hen night". Peter was flabbergasted, why would he want to keep them, or get more, he was a boy not a girl. "No", he said emphatically, "I don't want to keep them; I don't want to wear them at all". "What a shame", his mother replied, "I think they suit you, I think you make a lovely looking girl, and I think we should see what you look like with some make up on". "Please Mom, please don't make me wear make up, I'll look silly", Peter was aghast. "No, you won't, go and get a chair from the kitchen, and bring it in here", his mother said. Peter did as he was told, and went for the chair. Miss Jones was surprised at how much control Peter's mother seemed to exert over him, and asked if he was always like this. "Yes", his mother answered, "I just tell him he will have to go and live with his father, if he doesn't do as he is told, and when I found out that he was working in an all female department, I told him that he would have to do as he was told there as well". "So that's why he was so easy to persuade to wear those clothes," said Miss Jones. "He hates his father, he was always hitting him, and so he's very scared of me sending him there", answered his Mother. Peter returned with the chair, and his mother sat him down, it didn't take her long to make his face up, she tidied up his hair, and asked Miss Jones what she thought. "Excellent", said Miss Jones, "I think we are looking at the real Petra now". Peter wasn't amused, and asked if he could wash it off. His mother told him that he had to look at how he looked first. Reluctantly he allowed them to take him into the hallway, where his mother had a full-length mirror, which she used to check how she looked, before going out. He looked at his reflection, but it wasn't Peter who looked back, it was a nice looking girl. "I think you are right, he could easily pass as 18 now", said his mother. "Why would I want to"? asked Peter. "So you can go out with the other girls silly", said his mother. "I don't want to if I have to wear silly clothes", replied Peter, although he was impressed at how smart he looked. "Well you can keep them on for the rest of today then, if you think they are silly", his mother replied, "There are two of us here who wear them every day". Peter recognised the change in her tone, and he knew that he wasn't going to be allowed get changed before going to bed. He went back into the front room and sat down with the two women. Miss Jones didn't stay for long after that, and Peter heard his mother ask for Susan's phone number before she went. Peter felt a sinking feeling; he thought he could guess why. His mother made him stay dressed up for the night, and even manicured his nails for him, putting a clear varnish on them, which made them shine more than usual. "It's so lovely having a girl in the house," she said. "I'm not a girl", Peter said. "No dear, but you look very much like one, and you don't look quite so much like your father at the moment, which is a big bonus". She gave him a big kiss, and told him that she was going to ring Susan about the clothes, so he could go on the night out. Peter was amazed, at his mother's attitude, but knew that he would have to do it if his mother said so; otherwise she might send him to live at his father's house. He waited for a moment, and then decided to listen to what his mother was saying. "Yes we put some make up on him, he looks more mature, and he makes a such lovely looking girl, you will, that's very good of you, thank you so much, I'm sure he will be thrilled". Peter doubted very much that he would be thrilled, just what had she got planned for him. He went back into the front room, and turned the tele on. "There, she said, I've fixed it so you can go on the night out". "I don't really want to go", he said. "Well you're going, and that's final", she replied. Peter sat with his mother watching tele, she told him to cross his legs, while he was sitting, and the only chance he had to go out of the room was when he went to make a hot drink for them, and to go to the toilet. Eventually he was allowed to go to bed, it was earlier than usual, he asked why, and she said that he would have to remove his make up before going to bed; he had forgotten that it was still on his face. His mother followed him to the bathroom, to show him how to remove the make up, with cleansing cream, she made him take off his skirt and blouse first. Peter stood there in his underwear, his mother thought it looked very nice, and was better quality than most of hers. "You can have it then", said Peter. "No dear, it wouldn't fit me, and anyway I wouldn't want you to be without any nice underwear". Peter said he had plenty of underwear, but his mother told him most of it should have been thrown away, and none of it was anywhere near as nice as what he was wearing. She cleaned his face, and then let him go to bed, he managed to undo the bra, by pulling down the straps, which had left marks on his skin, and twisting it around, he could see himself in the mirror and realised that the marks from the bra showed on his body. He put on his pyjama jacket before taking off his tights, and realised how nice the slip felt on his legs. He took it, and the knickers off, and pulled his pyjama bottoms on, before climbing into bed, pleased to be wearing trousers. He could feel where the Bra had been round his chest, and his legs felt a bit funny from his muscles being forced into an unusual position by the slightly higher heel. He had difficulty in getting to sleep, tossing and turning. He was troubled by the day's events; he didn't want to admit it, but he had found the skirt comfortable, he was getting fed up of his pyjama trousers coming up his legs, and the crutch cutting into his groin, it wasn't the first time this had happened. Peter got out of bed, and went to the toilet, he looked at himself in the mirror, nah I can't do it he thought, but then realised that he had dripped on to his trousers. He went back to his room, and turned on the light; he took off his trousers; he was going to look for a clean pair, when he saw the slip lying on the floor. The memory of the short time that he had felt it against his legs went through his head, could he have that feeling again he thought. He shook his head, and decided he couldn't, it was what a girl would wear, and he wasn't a girl. Then again, it was his, he had to pay for it, he reasoned, and he didn't know if he had any other pyjamas clean, and if he did, he didn't know where they were, it wouldn't ride up, and make him uncomfortable. Peter realised that he was talking himself into putting the slip on. No one will see me he thought, he picked up the slip, turned the light out, and stepped into it, it felt nice against his bare legs, especially the lace; he got back into bed smoothing it down his legs, this time he fell asleep. The next morning he was late waking up, with being awake for so long he had overslept. His mother came into the room to wake him up, and picked up the clothes from the floor, to put in the wash, she noticed the pyjama trousers, and that the slip was missing. "Come on sleepy", she said, "you'll be late for work". Peter had forgotten that he was wearing the slip, it felt comfortable, his mother guessed that this was the case, and pulled the bedclothes back. Peter suddenly realised what the situation was, and blushed, his mother told him she would need to wash his slip, and could get him some proper nighties if he would like to wear them instead of pyjamas. She then left the room, Peter groaned, he couldn't blame this on anyone else; he had chosen to wear the slip. He got dressed, and went downstairs, taking the slip with him, and dropped it into the wash basket. The feel of the material was really nice, he found himself wondering if it would be clean when he got home, shaking his head he chided himself for having those thoughts. He wasn't very hungry, so he only had cereal for breakfast. "Watching your figure", his mother asked, she didn't actually mean anything, it was just off the cuff, but Peter said it was bad enough that she was making him go to the party without taking the Mickey. His mother was surprised, and told him she didn't mean to upset him, she wasn't even thinking of the party. He carried on with his breakfast. "I think you could do with a haircut", she mused, "it needs tidying up; I'll make you an appointment at my hairdressers". "What's wrong with old Joe's? asked Peter. "He's not very good, it annoys me to have to pay him for what he does to your hair, I'm sure Sylvie will do it better, I might even ask her to give you the works". "What's that"? asked Peter. "You'll see if I ask her", she said with a smile. Peter finished his breakfast, and put his plate and cup into the sink. His mom said, "That's the first time you have done that, your time, as a girl must have taught you something". "I wasn't a girl, I was just dressed in silly clothes", he answered. His mother took the chance, and told him he wouldn't have to think that on Saturday, or he wouldn't be able to carry it off. Peter glared at her. "Oh and don't forget to bring your new clothes home tonight". "What new clothes"? asked Peter, although he knew what she meant. "The ones that Susan is bringing in for you", answered his mother, and I've written out an order for you to take to work as well". She handed him a sealed envelope. "What are you ordering?" he asked. "Don't be rude, it's women's' underwear if you really must know, actually I'm very jealous of your new underwear". Peter put his shoes on, "they're still wet", he said. "Well you could try your new ones", his mother said. "Yeh, right"; he answered, and scurried out of the door before she insisted. He arrived at work with his feet freezing, Betty went into mother mode, and told him to take his wet shoes off, his socks had got wet as well, so she told him to take those off. She took them and put them on the radiator. Miss Jones came around and mentioned that he wasn't dressed, as smartly today as yesterday. "No my trousers are still wet", he answered, "and I don't have another suit". She smiled, and said, "Yes you do, it was the dry one I was referring to anyway, and why don't you have anything on your feet? Peter asked where he had to take his mothers order, trying to change the subject. "I'll take it for you", answered Miss Jones, "but you still haven't answered". "I don't have any others", he answered. "You have the ones we gave you yesterday," said Miss Jones. "They are girls' shoes", Peter replied, "I can't wear those". Susan appeared with a large holdall, "here you are Peter, it's the old clothes your mother wanted for you, there are no shoes or underwear, but there is a cracking little black dress for you to wear on Saturday. I've only worn it once, but I fell out with my friend that night, and I was going to dump it, because it reminds me of her". Peter blushed with embarrassment, as the women would think that he had asked Susan for the clothes. "Let's see it then", said Miss Jones. Susan rummaged in the bag, pulled out the dress, and held it against Peter. He couldn't see it properly, but his eyes widened when he saw where the hemline was, it must have been 8 inches above the knee, and seemed to stick out from the rest of the dress, it looked as if there was another layer under the skirt as well. He didn't take anything else in; he couldn't imagine wearing it in his worst nightmare. "O.K. Girls", back to work said Miss Jones. Peter started to work, but he felt a lump in his throat, he was worrying about Saturday, everyone seemed to want him to be a girl, and he didn't know why. They didn't seem to be doing it in a cruel manner, but they were enjoying it. When they broke for lunch, Miss Jones re appeared, she had a box in her hand, "here you are Peter, something for your feet", she handed him a pair of natural sheer knee high stockings, "they'll keep you warm", she said. Peter sighed, he needed to leave this job, before they turned him into a girl, mind you, the clothes did feel nice against his skin, and he rolled up his trouser legs. "You'll have to get that fluff taken off your legs, by Saturday", said Miss Jones. Peter blushed, he hadn't thought about the few blonde hairs on his legs. He rolled up the stockings, and pulled them up to his knees, then rolled the trousers down over them. He couldn't resist rubbing one of his feet on top of the other. Miss Jones noticed, and commented on how nice it felt, adding that they were probably nicer to wear than his usual socks. Peter had to agree, it did feel nice, a lot warmer as well Miss Jones commented, "yes", Peter replied. Miss Jones handed him the box, he opened it to find a pair of silver sandals, with a 2-inch stiletto heel. He lifted one out marvelling at how light they felt. They had five shoelace-sized straps at the front, which met in an intricate pattern at the centre, and the heel was sling back with a strap that fastened at the outside edge that came on the top of his foot, even the sole was silver. They glistened in the light; Peter hadn't seen anything like them before. "Well put them on then", cajoled Miss Jones. He found that he wanted to, they were the nicest shoes he had ever seen, and slipped his feet into the shoes, he fumbled with the fastenings, because he had never needed to buckle up anything that small a size before, but eventually found the holes, and they were in position. He stood up and tried to walk in them, but was a bit unsteady, "take smaller steps, and place your foot down flat", he was told. He tried it, and found that it was better. "I can't afford these"; he said sadly, he really liked the way his feet felt in the nylon stockings on the slippy inside of the shoes. "Don't worry, they were display items for a shoe we don't supply anymore, just like your other ones, we have a few more as well, usually we throw them away, or advertise them as available for the girls, so we don't charge for them. Oh yes there is a little handbag that goes with them as well", said Miss Jones and handed him a small silver bag with a long thin strap, which matched the straps on the back of the shoes. "I thought if you had a bag with a long strap, you wouldn't forget to pick it up". "What do I need a bag for"? Peter asked. "To put your things in, like money, and make up. There aren't any pockets in most skirts, and dresses, Miss Jones answered. "Right, it's time to go back to work, Girls". Peter expected to be included with the Girls when this sort of thing was said; he bent down to take his shoes off. "Keep them on", said Miss Jones, "it'll help you get used to them, and you shouldn't really be walking around with bare feet". Peter did as he was told, and remembered to take smaller steps, and place his foot flatter than he was used to, again his shoes made a lot of noise, why did women's shoes have to be so loud?. He sat at his desk, and while he was working he couldn't stop himself from rubbing his feet together, they felt like nothing he had felt before, it really was quite nice, and the shoes were so light as well. He realised he actually liked the way girls shoes, and clothes felt, his own stuff didn't feel anything like these, but he couldn't go out in them surely, he was a boy not a girl, someone might realise and laugh at him. He was in a quandary, he decided that he would like to try some of the clothes on, but he didn't want to appear to be keen to do it. He had his musing disturbed by the phone, and went into gear answering the phone, until the end of the day. Petra took over his life during this time, and he forgot about the shoes, and stockings, they felt like they should be there, and the occasional rub together felt so good. Susan appeared; she said she would take him home, so that he didn't have to carry the bag. He thanked her, for the lift, he'd quite forgotten about the bag of clothes, he stood up, and took a step the sound reminded him his shoes needed to be changed. He looked for his shoes, and socks, they were dry. He looked at them, Susan noticed he looked sad; she gently took them off him, and placed them into her bag. "You can practice", she said. Peter was still unsure, he knew he shouldn't like wearing these shoes, but they were nice, and his feet felt good, besides Susan had told him he had to hadn't she? They were on their way to the car when Susan's Phone rang. "O hello Mrs Beard; yes he's with me at the moment, I was going to give him a lift home because I've got a bag of clothes that need delivering, that's okay I'll drop him off there, and then bring you the bag on my way, Bye". Peter wondered why he was being dropped off, why wasn't he going home? He was almost home when Susan pulled up outside Sylvie's hairdressers. She told him to get out, "I can't", he said, "not in these shoes". "Don't be silly Peter, Sylvie has only stayed behind to do your hair, there is no one else there, she'll understand, trust me" Susan told him, She smiled her best disarming smile at him, he caved in, and got out, there was a closed sign on the door. Sylvie was sitting by the window, she was expecting him, he clicked his way to the shop, and she opened the door for him. "Peter"? She said, "your mother asked me if I could improve your hairstyle, come in". Peter went through the door; he hadn't smelt anything like the chemical pong that hit him as he went in. He turned to see Susan drive off, O well he was better inside than out wearing his sandals. "What lovely shoes, you are a lucky girl", said Sylvie. "I'm a boy", Peter answered, "Of course you are", answered Sylvie, without much conviction. "They are still lovely shoes though, where did you get them"? Peter told her, "just my luck, out of stock", she sighed. She lead him to the washbasin, and laid him down so that the back of his head was over the basin, his neck went through a dip in front of the basin, this was new, he hadn't had his hair washed like this before. "Oh dear; I've got my work cut out here" she said. Peter found himself relaxing; Sylvie was an old hand at talking to customers. She sat him up, and looked at his hair, "Hmm" she said, "I can't do what your Mother asked, but I can do something similar". "What's that"? asked Peter. "A surprise", was the only answer he got, she turned his seat round so that he couldn't see the mirror. He heard the scissors snipping around his head, and was aware when she cutting above his eyes. Sylvie put something that smelled nasty on to his head, and then started putting curlers into his hair. "No no not curls please", he whined; "No not curls, this is going to give your hair more body when I'm finished", she answered. He found himself sitting under the hair dryer, Sylvie gave him a women's magazine to read, he flicked through it, but found his attention grabbed by a story of a woman who found her husband wearing her clothes. So he wasn't the only one, the difference was she was annoyed, all of the women who had seen him were pleased, he looked at the picture of the man wearing a dress on the opposite page, and decided that he made a better looking girl than the man did a woman, perhaps that was why she was angry. Sylvie reappeared, she had something in her hand, "this won't hurt much", she said, and placed it on to one of Peter's earlobes. "Ow", he said, as he felt a sharp jab. "Baby", she said, "real girls don't make such a fuss", what fuss thought Peter, and said "Ow" again, as the same thing happened to his other ear. "What did you just do"? asked Peter. "Your mother asked me for the works, so I've pierced your ears, you'll need something to clean them which I'll give you later, and leave them in place for two weeks to be on the safe side, Oh yes you need to rotate them a couple of times each day as well". Peter's mouth dropped open, why had his mother asked her to do that to him. Sylvie told him to put his fingertips into a little pot either side of the chair, he didn't know why, but placed them in without thinking, he was still wondering about his ears. Eventually she took him from under the dryer, and removed the hair net, and curlers then started to brush his hair out, then she got a nail file out and did his nails, she started to buff them, which made them look shiny, and removed the ridges. His mother came to the door, and Sylvie let her in. "I've just got a couple of her nails to do, and she'll be finished", said Sylvie. "He", said Peter. "Sorry", said Sylvie, "I don't get to do many boys". "Wow, that's wonderful, you've done a great job, and those earrings really look nice as well," said Peters Mother. "There all finished, now you can look at yourself", said Sylvie and she spun him round, to look in the mirror. Peter gasped in disbelief, he had a fringe that turned under across his brow, his hair was centre parted, and was in what he later learned was called a short Bob, his hair curled under all the way round, and came down to just below his eyes, creating a nice frame. His ears both had circular earrings, with a little pink shiny stone hanging down, which moved when his head moved, and glittered in the light, his nails looked a nice shape, and shone with the buffing they had received. "I look like a girl", he said, bursting into tears. "You look lovely", said his mother, and thanked Sylvie for the job she had done, Sylvie apologised for not quite sticking to what she had been asked, but his mother said it was probably better anyway. "Come on Peter", she said, "Sylvie wants to go home". Peter got up still crying, and walked towards the door, he wasn't thinking about how to walk, but it seemed to come naturally after the advice he had been given. They walked home in silence, the noise from their shoes seemed deafening to Peter, he was scared witless that he would be seen, and was relieved when he got home. His mother opened the door, and he went inside. "Go and get changed, I've put some clothes out ready for you on your bed" she told him. Peter went upstairs, and into his room, he turned on the light. On his bed was his bra, and knickers, a pair of tights, a pink T-shirt, with shorter narrower sleeves, than his others, and a denim mini skirt. He went to the wardrobe, but it only contained girls' clothes, the dressing table was the same, only girls' underwear was available, someone had dropped off his mothers order, and the top had some make up, and perfume on it. "Mom" he yelled, she came up the stairs; he was sat on the edge of his bed crying again. "Where are my clothes", he asked. "They are all here in your room", she answered. "No they aren't, they are all girls clothes". "They are yours", his mother answered, "you need to practice before Saturday, or you will give yourself away, now get changed and come down for you tea, and bring those boys clothes with you". Peter burst into tears again, as he stood up and started to undress, "good girl", said his mother, crossing her fingers in hope. Peter looked in the mirror it was a strange sight, his feet looked like a girls, his clothes he realised could be either, but with that haircut, his face looked like he was a girl and the glint as the light hit the pink stones on his earrings showed he was even wearing girls jewellery. He was upset, whatever he did, he would still look like a girl from the neck up. It had dawned on him that the clothes wouldn't make much difference; whatever he wore, he would still look like a girl. He was a little bothered that there wasn't a slip to wear with the skirt, he sat down and took off his shoes, his legs felt strange after the way they had been forced to be by the shoes, and he peeled off the stockings, slowly he removed his clothes, and pulled on the knickers, tucking himself away. He put his bra on, and pulled the T Shirt over his head, being careful not to mess his hair, although he didn't realise he was doing it. The T-shirt was tight fitting, and made his tits stand out, the neckline was wider than on his own T shirts, the sleeves were short and tight; he sat on the bed, and carefully pulled up his tights the black pair from yesterday, which he loved the feel of on his legs. He was confusing himself, he didn't want to enjoy it, he shouldn't be enjoying it, but he was, and that was almost as embarrassing as being seen by other people. He slipped the skirt up his legs, telling himself it was the same as wearing jeans, not that he believed it, it seemed to be very short, then he put his flatter black shoes on. He looked at himself in the mirror, there was no doubt the image he was looking at was a girl, wearing a very short skirt. He was a little bit cold, and looked for a jumper the first thing he found was a white cardigan, he thought that would do, and put it on over the T-shirt, but didn't fasten it. He picked up his last boys clothes, and took them down stairs. His mother took them off him, and threw them into the washing machine. "That's a good girl", she said. "No I'm not", said Peter, I'm a boy, "why do I have to dress as a girl"? "Tell me you don't like how the clothes feel, and that you don't want to go to the hen night, although Millie will be upset if you don't go", she asked him. "I want to go, but I feel silly like this, I shouldn't be wearing these clothes and the rest of it", he answered. "That's why we want you to practice, so that by Saturday it will feel right for you to wear a dress, and heels, and all that lovely underwear. Besides I would have loved to have a daughter, can't you let me have my fantasy until the end of the week"? She looked so sad Peter couldn't upset her and agreed to be her daughter, but she had to give him his clothes back on Sunday. "Deal", she said, "but no Peter, it has to be Petra all the time". "Yes, yes", he said wondering what he had let himself into. His mother hugged him, and gave him a big kiss, thank you; "I appreciate what you are doing for me", she said. They sat down, and ate their meal; with going to the hairdressers and everything, the time had passed, and it reached eight o clock. There was a knock on the door, it was Susan and Millie, Susan introduced Millie to Peters Mom, and they were asked to come in. Peter was sat in an armchair, his skirt was a lot shorter compared to his other one, and he was aware of the amount of leg he was showing. "Stand up Petra, we have visitors", said his mom, Peter stood up, and nervously tried to pull the hem of his skirt down. "Wow look at you" said Millie, "you look terrific". "I don't feel terrific", answered Peter. "Now, now Petra, don't ever refuse a compliment, you should just say thank you, and you should thank Susan for your clothes as well" said his mother. "Sorry Mom; answered Peter, "that's nice of you Millie you look very nice as well, and thank you for the clothes Susan". "I don't know about that", said Susan, "I'm sure that you look better in them than I did". "I doubt it said Peter truthfully". "I suppose you are wondering why we have come"? said Millie. "Well I wasn't expecting visitors", said his Mom. "We wanted to make sure that you didn't mind Peter, err that is Petra coming to the do, but it looks as if I don't need to ask", said Millie. "No, I don't mind at all, that's why I'm making her live the part until Sunday. I think she will learn a lot about life, from a different point of view", answered his mother. Peter was gob smacked that he would have to be a girl when he was at home, but wondered about getting his clothes for during the day. "Do you want to have a cup of tea, or something", his mother asked the Girls. "Well we were going out to the pub, but that would be nice", answered Susan. "Petra be a love and put the kettle on please" asked his mother. Peter was amazed his mother never asked him to put the kettle on, she always told him to. He went into the kitchen, and made a pot of tea, and then he put cups and saucers a jug of milk, and the teapot on a tea tray, before pouring the boiling water on the tea bags. He removed the bags, and went into the front room where the women were sitting. He placed the tray on the coffee table bending over; he felt his skirt rise up behind him. He stood up quickly, red faced. "Yes, dear we all saw tomorrows washing, bend your knees not your waist when you wear a short skirt, otherwise everyone will get a look" said his mother rather matter of factly. He bent his knees, and poured out the tea, asking who wanted sugar, and handed it out. The women were chatting, he didn't want to join in, but listened to what was being said, there was some idle chat, about how well Petra had fitted in with the other girls, and was well liked, but it moved on. His mother said how much she had wanted a girl, but she had lost a baby before Petra was born, who was a girl, and then her husband had punched her when she was pregnant after Petra, and had lost another girl, apparently, she wasn't able to get pregnant again. Peter felt very sorry for his mother, and put his arm around her, "sorry" he said, "what for", asked his mother. "For not being a girl", he answered. His mom started to cry, "It's not your fault, and I had learned to live with it, I suppose seeing what might have been has just upset me". She blubbered. She composed herself, and said, "I think we need something stronger, would you like to go to the local Pub, she asked Millie, and Susan". "Yes", they replied, "but can we use your first name, Mrs Baird sounds so formal" asked Susan. "Of course you can it's Shirley, I think you had better call me that as well Petra," she said. She went out to get ready, and the two women descended on Peter, "her eyebrows need a little tidying up", said Millie, without waiting she produced a pair of tweezers, and swiftly removed some hairs. "Ow that's worse than my ears", said Peter. "Then you will appreciate the difference", said Millie. Susan applied his make up for him, "there that's done", she said after finishing the job; they let Peter look in a mirror. His eyebrows had been almost completely removed, leaving a thin line above each eye, his eyes looked larger, and wider than he was used to seeing them, his eyelashes also looked darker and fuller, and his lips were a rosy red colour, even his cheeks looked redder than usual. His mother reappeared, "wow look at you" she said, "what an improvement". Peter didn't think so; he wondered how he was ever going to be able to go out as a boy with this haircut, and eyebrows. His mother handed him a little black handbag, so that he could take some "war paint" and money with him. "It hasn't got a strap, so you will have to put it on your lap when you are sitting down, and hold it in your hand when stood up. He watched as she dropped the make up into his bag, and placed a ten-pound note in as well, and then she gave it to him. "Right put your coat on Petra, we can walk to the pub it's only a short walk", said his mother. Peter wasn't sure he had a coat, his mother seemed to have hidden all his boy clothes, but he found one hanging on the hallstand. "Are you sure you don't want that coat, it looks almost new", his mother asked Susan. "No, I've had it for a while; it was one of those purchases that seemed to be a good idea at the time", she replied. Peter put the coat on it was black, and buttoned, on the wrong side down to the waist level, where it flared out, and came to midway up his calves. He found a pair of gloves in the pocket, it was cold outside so he put them on, only to find that they came a couple of inches above his wrists, even my gloves are different he thought, this is just so different to my stuff all together, feels nice though, Millie reminded him to pick his handbag up. His mother opened the door, and the women went out. Peter took a big breath and followed them, as he turned to close the door it suddenly struck him that he was not only going to have to walk further, than he had done outside, but was going somewhere he had never been to, and there would be lots of people there. He froze, Susan turned, round and said "come on, you'll be all right, trust me". She came back, and banged the door shut, a fleeting thought of the doors being slammed on porridge entered his mind, he was locked out. Susan took his hand, and gently led him down the path, "come on you're doing fine, and no one is going to recognise you", she said trying to help him settle. They didn't talk much as they walked to the pub, Peter didn't want to, he had a lump in his throat, and was wondering what was going to happen next, he could feel the cold air on his legs, but it wasn't unpleasant. When he saw some young lads coming towards them, he felt scared and vulnerable, other than a wolf whistle that sounded from behind them after the lads had passed there was no problem. They got to the door of the Pub, took one-step up and were inside the building, it was a hallway, "toilets are through there", his mother said, and with that went through the door into the lounge bar. It was noisy, with fruit machines, the jukebox, and chatter of the people sat around on separate tables. "No smoking here", said his mother; "we don't anyway", said Millie, and Susan. They found a table in the corner with a comfortable couch to sit on, so they grabbed it. Susan asked them what they wanted, and said, "Petra could you help me with the drinks please"? "Do you want to leave your handbag with me dear"? his mother asked him. "Yes", he replied, handing it to her. He followed Susan to the bar. "Hello Ladies, I don't think I've seen you in here before, what can I do you for"? asked the barman. Susan asked for the drinks, but Peter didn't recognise, what she had ordered instead of the coke he had asked for. They took the drinks to the table, Peter's mother told him to take his coat off, he did, and immediately caught the attention of some lads across the bar. He folded his coat and placed it on the couch, "knees not waist dear, you've just given them a flash". Peter blushed with embarrassment, at the thought that the Lads had seen his girl's underwear; he just couldn't get used to this, and sat down next to Millie. His mother passed him his handbag to place on his lap. "Don't drink that to fast, it's alcoholic cola", said Millie. "So did the barman notice", asked Millie. "Nope he thought our Petra was old enough", answered Susan. "That's brilliant, because he knows Peter and me if he didn't click, no one will, said his mother. "Mom", said Peter, "he might not have noticed, but I think those boys over there have, they keep looking at me". This started a round of giggles from the women, "it's not funny", said Peter indignantly, "what are they going to think of me". Susan managed to stop first, and said, "How sweet; that was priceless, they are probably think that you did it deliberately, as a come on". "What"? asked Peter. "They think that you are a girl, and after your little display, they want to get into those knickers," said Millie. "Why would they want to wear them"? he asked. The women had tears running down their faces at this, Millie managed to talk first, "they don't; did you have sex lessons at school". "Yes", he replied. "Well that's what they want to do with you", she continued. He thought for a minute, and then said, "They can't, I don't have anything they could do that with". "This is the best laugh I've had in a while", said his mother, Peter was pleased about that, his mother hadn't really laughed much since she divorced his Father, but wondered why he was making them laugh. "What you are looking at is pure male lust, they think that you are a very attractive woman, and fancy you, trust me they have no idea, said Susan. Peter was uncomfortable with the idea that Boys might fancy him, and said, "I don't want them to". "Well don't let them make eye contact with you, and don't flash your pants at them then", said Susan. "What's eye contact", he asked. "You really do have a lot to learn don't you, look at me directly into my eyes, and you see how I'm looking back at you, that's eye contact", said Susan. "How do girls know these things and boys don't"? he asked, "because we have to be cleverer than them", she replied. He spent the night trying to avoid the glances that he knew were being made in his direction, but one of the lads came over, and said that they were here overnight, and wanted to know if they could buy the women a drink, and invited them to join them.. "You can buy us a drink if you like, but don't expect anything else", said Shirley, "nothing more than a chat that is, I'm old enough to be your mother", "I'm engaged", said Millie, "I'm a lesbian", said Susan, Peter was shocked by what Susan had said, "and what's your excuse"? the lad asked Peter. "Oh I'm a boy", he said without thinking. The lad laughed out loud, and said, that he had never had a girl blow him out like that before. "That's a classic", he said. He went over to his own table, and said something. Peter saw them look over at him, and burst out laughing. "See I told you", he said, "they know". "They don't, they're laughing at your reply", said Susan. The lad got up, went to the bar, and came over to the table with a tray of drinks. "I believe this is what you girls are drinking, he said, we thought you deserved it for making us laugh; we have had a rotten day on the most boring course in the world. Perhaps we could join you just for the company". "I suppose so, but it won't be for long, we are going home after this drink", his mother answered. He beckoned the other lads over, and they squeezed round the table, introducing themselves, finally it came to Peter, he was a little bit tipsy, he thought it might be funny to carry on with the thing about him being a boy. "George", he said. "Is that short for Georgina then", he was asked. "No that's George as in George, I'm just pretending to be a girl, but you can call me Petra if you prefer". "Ha, I don't think you could ever get away with fooling anyone that you are a boy, no matter how hard you try Petra", he answered. Peter managed to keep out of the conversation after that, the men all seemed to be trying to out do each other. His mother had finished her drink, and indicated that they should leave, thanking the men for the drinks, Peter stood up, and went to pick his coat up, but the lad who had spoken first, picked it up, and said "allow me, Miss George", and held it so that Peter could put his arms into it. Peter slipped his arms into the coat, and the lad wrapped it round him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, as he did it. Peter jumped he was taken by surprise. "Sorry", he said, "I didn't mean anything, I've sat there all night wanting to ask you out, the alcohol got me all carried away". Peter forgave him, and said that it was only that he hadn't expected it. He had buttoned up his coat ready to go. "Oh, let him have a proper kiss Petra", his mother said. The lad stepped forwards, he was about 6 inches taller than Peter, he put his arms round Peter's waist, then decided to guide Peters arms where he wanted them, around his neck, he looked directly into Peters eyes, and Peter realised what he had been told about eye contact was true. The lad pulled one of his hands up to between Peter's shoulders, and kissed him on the lips, Peters head was pushed back, and the kiss wasn't just a peck, it was a long snog. Peter hadn't ever kissed a girl, his first real snog was with this boy, he hadn't noticed, but he had put one of his hands on to the back of the lads head, and was stroking his hair. They pulled apart, a couple of inches, and looked into each others eyes, this time it was Peter, who guided the lads mouth towards his, by putting pressure on his head, to pull it forwards. When they parted the others gave a big cheer, they let go of each other. Peter was feeling all funny inside, he didn't know why. "We're going this way", said his mother. "Can we walk you home", they asked. "No", she answered, "it's only a couple of minutes, and I don't do coffee". They all said goodnight, and went their opposite ways home, the men to their Hotel, and the women to Shirley's house. "You little flirt", Millie, said to Peter, "there's a name for people like you, and it's prick teaser, poor man he's going to be awake all night thinking about you". "I didn't do anything", protested Peter. "No, of course you didn't, and it wasn't you that pulled him into that second snog was it?" said Millie. "I don't know why I did that", he said. "Well now perhaps you believe us that no one will be able to tell who you are at my party, said Millie, "no, I suppose not", Peter answered. They arrived at the house, and the girls were invited in. "I should go home really" said Millie. "I f you think I'm going to let you drive home after drinking that much, you are wrong", said Shirley. "If you say so Mom", said Millie in mock annoyance, they went in to the lounge and sat down. Peter sat on the sofa with Susan, Millie sat in an armchair, "now who wants a last drink then"? asked Shirley, "I have sherry, sherry or sherry". "Do you have any sherry", asked Susan, "yes", answered Peter's mother. "O.K. I'll have that then," said Susan. Peter's mother poured out four glasses, so that they had one each. "Well girls, that was the best night out I have had in a long time, and yes Petra, my sluttish little daughter, I'm including you in that", said Peter's mother. "What did I do"? asked Peter. "Well let's see. You looked across at their table when you were bringing us our drinks, which grabbed their attention, and then blatantly flashed your knickers at them. You gave them an impossible reason for rejecting their advances, and then, after that peck on the cheek, you gave him the old doe eyed come on for more, then what, Oh yes, you let him chew the face off you, with no attempt to stop it, and then made him do it again. Poor soul he had a monster hard on when he left". "What", gasped Peter, he didn't believe his mother would say that. "We girls notice that sort of thing, and I must be thinking of you as a girl, or I wouldn't have told you that. Trust me he would have had to relieve himself when he got home," his mother continued. Peter was worried, his own little pecker had got a bit excited, and he knew something had been ejected; it was only the strength of the gaff that had stopped him creating a tent in his skirt. "Is it normal to feel like you have butterflies in your stomach after drinking"? he asked. "When did it start"? asked Millie. "After he kissed me the first time", said Peter. "What the little peck"? asked Millie, his mother and Susan started to take notice, "err yes", he answered. "No wonder you would have carried on, if we hadn't stopped you, it's called love", said Millie. "It can't be, he's a man, and I'm a boy", answered Peter. "Was that your first long snog", asked Millie. Peter paused for a moment, and then said "yes". "Well that's it then, you would probably feel the same if it was with a girl, it was just a new and exciting thing, and let's face it at the moment you are behaving like a girl anyway", answered Millie. Peter went quiet while he tried to go through everything he had done, and sipped on his sherry. He put down his glass he was feeling tired. He should have gone to bed, but it was too much like hard work, without thinking he lay down with his head on Susan's Lap. Very soon he was fast asleep, his mother started to stand up. It's O.K. Shirley, don't disturb her, I'll be all right here", she said, stroking his hair gently. Shirley and Millie went off to bed; Millie was using Peter's bed. Shirley brought two blankets down so they wouldn't get cold, and arranged them. Peter woke up a little disorientated. He lifted up his head; it felt like it was made of lead; he dropped it down again, into Susan's lap, his mother walked in. Come on girls, time to get up or you will be late for work". Peter groaned, "First hangover, always the worst", said Millie, who seemed to be as bright as a button. "Right Petra, upstairs, get that make up off, have a wash, Millie says she has put some clothes ready for you", said his mother. "Can I borrow one of your skirts" Susan asked Peter, "you seem to have dribbled on mine, and there is make up on it as well". "They're yours anyway, so yes, he answered. "No, they aren't Petra, I gave them to you, don't worry I'll bring it back" she answered. Peter went upstairs, and stripped off, his shoes were still on his feet, and his legs felt very strange when he took them off. He cleaned up his face, and had a good wash. He went into his room, and put on the underwear Millie had left for him, it was a set like his pink set, only in pale blue, the tights were almost white in colour, and he pulled them up his legs, somehow he felt happy to have them on. Then he put on a cream blouse that had a shine to it, with little puff sleeves, and a small round tipped collar, which had some embroidery around the edge. The skirt was circular, and a deep green colour, he stepped into it, and fastened it behind his back, pulling up the zip after he had done the button up, then he pulled his slip which matched his Bra and Knickers up to his waist. He stepped into his black shoes, they almost felt flat after his sandals, and went down stairs, he looked i