The Chair Shoppe
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The TV Shoppe free porn video
If you meet a girl like Cynthia: sensuous, regal, sexually commanding,
with a cruel sense of humor... the smart thing is to avoid her! And if
you're dumb enough' to get engaged to her... as I did... you'd
better not cross her or... But let me tell you what happened to me.
The TV SHOPPE
By c.c.
It was a late Saturday morning in Autumn and Cynthia and I were downtown
shopping for her wedding-night outfit, which she insisted on modeling
for me in every store. Naturally this got me quite horny and I was
anxious to get back to her apartment and between her long, black-
stockinged legs.
Oh yes, Cynthia and I were lovers. In fact, I was only one of several
bed-partners, male and female, that she'd had and I was flattered that
she'd chosen ME to be her husband. That's right, I said, she had chosen
me, not the other way around...
Anyway, I was hurrying her back to the parking lot where we'd left her
Jaguar, when we passed a shop showing various sexy nighties in the
window and she insisted on going in. I had heard of this shop, MR. JO's,
somewhere, but I couldn't quite place it until we got inside and started
looking closely at some of the clothes. It was a shop for Transvestites.
"Come on, Cyn," I whispered, "let's get out of here. This is a store for
Fags! Look at all this stuff! You'd have to be a real queer type to wear
these frilly things!"
"But Jerry!" she giggled, holding up a lacy apron, "Some of this stuff
is charming!" Mischievously, she held up the apron around me. The skirt
came to just below my crotch. "Just your size!" she smiled with delight.
"That's not my bag," I firmly pushed it away. "One thing, I definitely
am not is the feminine type; no queer stuff for me!"
Just then, an effeminate voice behind me piped up, "Can I show you
darlings something? I'm Mr. Jo!"
I turned to see that the lisping, tight-pants clerk had come up to us,
swishing this way and that. I was about to tell him to get lost, we'd be
leaving anyway, when Cynthia said, "Yes, what can you do with my man,
here? Sorta butch, huh? Maybe a mini-skirt or a nice black lace corset
or panty girdle?"
He stepped back, shifting his hips, and looked me up and down. Somehow,
I felt myself shiver under his frankly sexual stare, as if I were being
mentally undressed by the obvious faggot.
"Oh, I could do wonders with her, really!"
Was he referring to me as 'her'? I felt suddenly confused and angry. He
was saying something to Cynthia who seemed overly interested.
"...of course, I must insist that everything be paid for in advance.
Dear, such a drag, but it's the Boss' strict rule!"
"I'm sure we can handle it,", Cynthia assured him. She turned to me,
"Shall we start with panties, Jerry? what would you like? I just think
those adorable black frilly panties would be just so cute!"
"Not a thing! Let's get out of here!" I insisted, "I could no more look
like a girl than this...uh... person could pass for a real man!"
Mr. Jo did not seem offended at all. "What's wrong with a little
bisexuality?" he asked, looking deep into my eyes with a look that was
somehow innocent and knowing at the same time.
"Yes, dear Jerry," Cynthia turned on me, "What is wrong with it?" I
suddenly realized I'd touched a sore spot with her. "I think you're just
afraid of finding out some things about yourself you'd just rather not
face!" she snapped.
"It's not that," I pleaded, "there's nothing wrong with it. It's just
not for me--I could never look like a girl!"
Still angry, Cynthia turned to Jo.
"Can you show him he's wrong? Really wrong?"
He considered, "Well, for $800 I could give him the 'total' treatment.
And that should certainly convince anyone! And what's more it's such
fun..."
"Sounds great!" answered Cynthia her eyes flashing with excitement.
"C 'mon, that's too expensive!" I retorted, "I'm not shelling but that
kind of bread just to dress up like a woman!"
"I'll pay, Jerry," Cynthia smiled darkly, "I insist."
I could see a cold, dangerous glint in her eyes. I realized now that she
thought I had insulted her Lesbian past, and Cynthia is not a woman to
forget an insult, not without proper redress. I had to do something to
patch things up, and do it quick.
"Well," I wavered, "if it's important to you, all right Cyn. But let's
get one thing straight," I tried to be firm, "I'm not wearing Women's
Clothes out on the street...NO WAY!"
"Very well, Darling," she turned to Jo, pulling the money casually from
her bag, "I expect a good job for this," she added.
"Oh surely!" Jo replied, "We get few customers this early, so I can give
it my full attention... just come to the back of the store here... I
promise you won't be disappointed."
Mincing outrageously he led us to a small room at the back of the shop,
fitted out as a tiny beauty parlor, covered with mirror-tiles.
"Now you're going to have to rub this cream all over your body and then
shower in that stall over there," He handed me a small oval jar. "So, if
you have a lot of hang-ups, you'd better not start."
Again, the frank sexual stare from him. I hesitated.
"Well, Jerry?" Cynthia sneered, "Are you up to it, or are you just
another one of those hung-up retro types?"
I knew I had no choice if I wanted to keep her. I started unknotting my
tie.
Time suddenly seared to slow down as I fumbled with my male clothes. My
jacket and shirt were gone, then my shoes and socks... Cynthia took
everything. I felt myself blush; two pairs of eyes were devouring me as
I lowered my trousers and slowly stepped out of then. Cynthia giggled
and grabbed then up. To cover my embarrassment, I tried to quickly peel
off my T-shirt, but in my nervous haste, I got tangled up in it. I could
hear the snickers as I struggled to free myself, arms hopelessly
knotted. Then Jo stepped up close behind me and began pulling the T-
shirt free. At the same time, Cynthia snatched down my shorts, whipping
then off my ankles. I stumbled back, suddenly free--and naked!
I felt strangely self-conscious as Cynthia folded my underwear neatly
while Mr. Jo studied my figure. It was so confusing! I couldn't help but
almost shiver with embarrassment... but why should I feel so helpless?!
After all, Cynthia was my lover; we were soon to be wed. And Mr. Jo,
though peculiar, was just another man, after all. Yet I was blushing
furiously from head to foot, knees knocking as I tried to hide myself
behind my hands.
"Best get started with the cream, and stop posing for 'September Morn',
darling!" Cynthia cracked.
"Yes, dearie," Mr. Jo put in, "Remember now, all over that body--well,
except for your dickie--and then, I'll check to see if you missed any
place!"
Feeling mortified, I began rubbing on the brown, pasty cream, starting
at my feet and working up. Somehow, I was glad for the task as I just
couldn't raise my eyes to face either of them. The cream had a strong
lemon smell as I rubbed it... now into my ass, then over my torso and
arms....
"Don't forget those armpits, Dear!" Jo prompted. "Now, I'll help you
with your face." He caked the stuff liberally over my neck, cheeks and
eyebrows, then stepped back. "Perfect!"
I saw myself then, in one of the mirrored walls, and felt a fresh wave
of shame wash over me. I looked like a little boy who'd been caught
skinny-dipping by cruel, older girls and chased through a mud-hole. The
brown paste, rapidly drying, covered my body completely except for the
blonde hair on my head and my-my little penis, shrunken with
embarrassment, which seemed to peek out coyly. I sneaked a glance at
Cynthia and wilted under her huge, amused grin.
"Into the shower now," Mr. Jo commanded, "Just as hot as you can stand
it, and don't you dare come out until we say you may!"
Thankful to be hiding anywhere, I hurried into the little plastic shower
stall and soon I was under a roaring stream of steamy hot water that
pounded around my ears and down my body... it felt good, washing away
the cream and soothing my skin, but I could tell at once that my
suspicions about the cream were correct: it was a depilatory, and I was
denuding myself of all my body hair!
I know, I was expecting it, but it came as such a shock, suddenly seeing
my legs and chest looking so smooth and lady-like. I realized that my
face and ass must look that way too.
A sharp knock came through the shower door, then Jo's voice over the
roar of the water, "Come out, care out, however you are!" he sang.
I turned off the water and hesitantly stepped out, shivering and
dripping, into a blast of hot air as Jo and Cynthia fired hair dryers at
me.
"Sorry, no towels here!" smiled Jo.
"This is much more fun, anyway!" Cynthia giggled and turned her dryer on
my private parts "Or 'would you rather have Mr. Jo blow dry you there,
darling?" she asked in muck innocence. I noticed his obviously plucked
eyebrows arching in interest.
"Very funny," I said. I wanted to say much more, but I was certainly in
no position to get the two of them mad at me. Meekly, I obeyed as they
had me rub a soothing lotion over my body, taking away the last of the
depilatory sting and leaving my skin cool, soft-to-the-touch, creamy and
gently perfumed--I was starting to feel like a ladies' personal care
commercial!
Eagerly, they led me to a padded table, like a doctor's examining table,
and had me lie down on it. They put my feet into little stirrups that
raised and spread my legs, then lowered a section at the top of the
table so that my head was bent back.
"I know that position will keep you from seeing what we do to you,
Dearie," Mr. Jo was puttering around a sink, somewhere behind me. "But
really, it's so much more convenient for putting on makeup and things,"
He swished back up to me and put his hands directly on my genitals! And
suddenly a sharp chill went through my privates!
"Ohhh! Ahh!" I gasped, "Y-your hands are so c-cold!"
I squirmed, trying to twist away from the frigid fingers, but Mr. Jo
seemed to enjoy the excuse for a little mischievous fondling.
"Yes, they are a bit cold, aren't they?" Jo smiled, "but you'll find the
chill has a most interesting effect!"
I wondered at his words, but didn't have much time to ponder them, as he
and Cynthia started in on me.: Body, face, hands, even my toenails! For
a long time afterwards, I never knew for certain what they did. I could
only feel bits and pieces of things
(my chest compressed and something set onto it... strange straps over my
crotch... a wig
laced onto my head...)
catch glimpses
(bright red lipstick... false lashes, fingernails and polish... the
blonde hue of my wig...)
and overhear snatches of conversation, like:
" ... note how the fleshtone latex bonds right to the skin. Perfectly
undetectable! And it cannot be removed without this special solvent.
Take care of this bottle of solvent, Cyn Honey, it's my last one!"
There were more instructions, more bustling about, and finally Mr. Jo
loomed over me, smiling.
"Almost finished, Dear, and you look just scrumptious! Now just be very
still for another five minutes to let everything dry!"
"Oh goodie I" Cynthia clapped her hands. 'That'll give me time to pick
her costume! Come help me, Jo!"
"Coming, Dear!" He turned back to me. "Five minutes, now! Just lie still
and softly count to Five Thousand." He turned away. From the corner of
try eye, I saw him mince out and close the door behind him.
It seemed I counted forever while they were gone. Finally, I decided
they were going to take their time out there, picking out clothes. I
could only wonder what humiliatingly frothy-femme outfits I would be
forced to wear: black satin maid's outfits with their starched lace
petticoats? Or some sexy black rubber jumpsuit ?
The five minutes were up long ago, I took my feet from the stirrups,
rolled off the table and stood up.
It hit me at once! The mirror-tiled walls reflected the image from a
thousand angles. But what an image!
She was blonde, well-built, and very, very naked. Her jutting breasts
jiggled saucily and her shapely legs tapered up to an inviting triangle
of pussy hair. Her firm ass almost glowed in the spotlights of the
mirrored room...But wait!
That was me!
I grasped my 'breasts' in bewilderment. They were false, but so life-
like that they'd fool anyone... even me! But it was only much later that
I figured out what they'd done to my precious privates!
The 'effect' of Jo's cold hands was to temporarily shrink my genitals to
less than half their normal size. While they were thus shrunk, he had
fastened some kind of rigid net over them, compressing them into a tiny
package tucked away back between my legs. I guessed the net was glued
into position the same way as my breasts, and I was glad it provided an
opening for me to relieve myself.
As a finishing touch, Mr. Jo had attached a blonde wig, cut into an
appropriate triangle, over the net, so that my sex was not only
concealed, but actually disguised as a woman's inviting pussy! What a
change! Even now, I could feel my smooth blonde hair swishing over my
bare shoulders as I moved in front of the mirrors marveling at my legs,
breasts, pert little ass...
Suddenly, a sharp noise cracked behind me, startling me! I froze, trying
to cover my nakedness with my hands, terrified at the thought of being
seen in this sexy new body!
The noise turned out to be nothing more than one of the hair dryers
cooling off ,however, and I began to calm down. I saw to my shame and
bewilderment that I had instinctively assumed the pose a naked woman
would have, one hand over my pussy and one forearm clasped to my bare
breasts.
I was so confused by all this! I wasn't really a woman. There should be
no cause for such embarassed trembling. Yet the mirrors around me seemed
to cry out that I truly was a sexy girl, bare-assed naked! What was
happening?
After a while, I began to wonder about Cynthia and Mr. Jo: Where were
they with my clothes? Come to think of it, where were my clothes? I
looked all over the tiny room....
GONE! Cynthia must have slipped away every stitch of my male clothing!
Now I understood her scheme; she meant to force me into female attire by
hiding all my own clothes and sticking me into this female body! Now I
had no choice but to wear-whatever she brought back for me!
Angrily, I waited for her to return to the back room.
And waited.
And waited...
Where was she? I wanted to peek out into the shop and call to her, but I
was afraid--what if someone saw me like this? I looked around the tiny
room again, this time looking for anything I could wear, anything to
hide my nude and fearful body.
No luck! So that's why they'd dried me with hair dryers instead of a
towel! There was absolutely nothing back here that could be used as
clothing. Not so much as a Kleenex!
Shivering with dread, I summoned up all my courage, tiptoed to the door,
and opened it a crack. I was back in the classic pose now and I felt the
cold air keenly on my naked bottom as I peeked out into the shop.
There, behind the counter at the front of the shop, near the glass door
and display windows, Mr. Jo lounged, doing some paperwork. He was alone
in the shop, Cynthia had left!
In a tizzy, I scampered out of the back room and minced up to the front
of the shop, still trying to cover myself with my hands.
"Where's Cyn?" I whispered, "What's going on here? Where are all my
clothes?"
Mr. Jo looked up from his paperwork and froze me all over again with his
stare.
"My, didn't you turn out sexy!" he grinned. "I'm sure you came in here
as a man, but no one would know it now!"
I blushed all over again. It seemed to hit me all at once: embarrassed
at my nudity, ashamed of my female body, humiliated by my sexy
helplessness, I wished I were a million miles away!
"Where's Cynthia?" I was still whispering, as though afraid my voice
would carry through the nearby windows. "What's she done?" I pleaded.
"Your wife was very amused that you insisted on not wearing women's
clothing," Jo smiled, "So she decided to take away all your male clothes
and wait for you at home!"
"She's not my wife! Not yet, anyway." This was all so strange,. "What am
I going to wear? I can't get home like this!"
"Personally, I think it would be just a shame to cover up those nice
boobs and that gorgeous ass," His smile widened, "especially since we
went to so much trouble to give them to you! But go ahead and pick out
anything you like that fits your price range; just remember our strict
rule: Pay in Advance!"
I chilled as I realized that all my money would be in my wallet. Which
would be in my pants. Which were in Cynthia's clutches! I started to
stammer a shocked protest, but Mr. Jo was laughing.
"Just thought I'd throw a scare into you" He held up an envelope, "You
look so tempting, I couldn't resist. Your wife told me that since you
wouldn't like anything she picked out, you could just pick something
yourself! And I'd love to help you! What about these cute little
panties and a nice matching bra to start with?" He tossed me that
envelope. "She said she'd leave you enough money for an adequate
wardrobe and cab fare; wasn't that nice of her?"
I grabbed Cynthia's envelope eagerly, forgetting how much of me I was
letting Mr. Jo see in my haste. This looked like my one hope.
"You mean if she'd hadn't left me money or a credit card, I couldn't
have got any clothes at all?"
"Not so much as a scarf", he said, and he was quite serious. "The lady
who finances this place is very insistent on that point and she has some
rather convincing Mob connections. Even if I wanted to give you credit,
I wouldn't dare," he looked at me with fresh amusement and I realized I
wasn't covering my 'goodies'. As I quickly moved my hands again, he
added, "And the way you acted back when you looked more manly and had
more clothes on makes me like you much better just exactly the way you
are now!"
This was certainly turning into a touchy situation! Covering up as best
I could, I tore at the envelope with my brightly-painted fingernails.
All I wanted was to get some clothes on now.. anything! And get the hell
outta this queer joint and home fast!
I nervously opened the envelope to see how much Cynthia bad left me.
Inside was nothing but a brief note:
Dear Jerry (or is it Jeri?)
Sorry to leave you in this predicament, but you know I can't
resist a nice, mean, practical joke. Have fun getting home
with no money and no clothes! If only you had a dime, maybe
you could call one of your macho buddies to come and take
you home (Who's?) but you haven t a dime, have you? Poor,
poor little girliel
Anyway, stealing your clothes was such fun, I may go over to
your place and do some more of it, so you'd better hurry and
think of something! I'm also thinking of having some of my
old, close, girl and boy-friends over, so be prepared to
entertain company when '(or if) you get home. Love, Cyn.
PS. You look so cute like that!
The end?
Jayla
- 13.02.2020
- 24
- 0
