Market ForcesChapter 40 Market Research
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Market Research
"Confirm Order"
I pressed the button on the computer screen. This was the early days of
the internet when Amazon only sold books. America On-Line had online
shopping for a small set of vendors. I had just ordered a pack of cotton
Hanes women's panties. Just out of college and living alone for the first
time, my thoughts were consumed with the idea of dressing like a woman. I
was too ashamed to go into stores to purchase anything, but online no one
had to know. Everything was handled by computers.
The panties arrived a week later. I had zero idea about sizing and they
were way too big. I threw them into the back of my bottom drawer behind
some sweaters and tried to forget about them. I was reminder a week later
when I got a postcard in the mail.
Dear Ms. Andrew White,
We would like to thank you for being a valued customer
with a free pair of our Sheer Energy pantyhose. Sheer
energy massages your legs so you will feel refreshed and
invigorated at the end of a long day. We just know that
once you try our pantyhose you will be a customer for
life. Just return this card in the mail and your new
pantyhose will be on the way.
I was mortified. There at the top of the card was my name clearly labeled
as female. Some computer database somewhere had my name in a record and
someone had entered "Ms" next to it. I threw the card in the trash hoping
I would never see it again.
Life continued. I'd nearly forgotten about the postcard when I got
another one a few week later.
Dear Ms. Andrew White,
We don't understand why you haven't claimed your free
pair of Sheer Energy pantyhose...
Followed by more marketing lingo. This wasn't going away. Someone knew. I
didn't want anyone to know. This was supposed to be private. However, I
really did want those pantyhose. I knew the mailman had already dropped
the card off, but I didn't really want him seeing me sending it back out.
Instead I drove to the nearest post office, checked the box next to "Yes,
please send me my pair of complementary pantyhose" and dropped the card
in the mailbox.
I checked my mailbox each day with some trepidation and excitement. Each
day it was empty, I felt a mixture of relief and disappointment. Then it
arrived. A manila envelope containing a plastic baggie with one pair of
pantyhose. I looked around worrying that any of my neighbors might guess
what I had received. Quickly I secreted them inside my house and up to my
bedroom. I laid the hose out on my bed and stared at them for a minute. I
was going to put these on. These were my pantyhose. I now own my own
pantyhose.
I pulled down my pants and stepped out of them. I suddenly remembered the
panties I had purchased the previous month. I fished one out of my bottom
drawer, dropped my boy underwear, and stepped into my panties. They were
still several sizes too large and hung loosely from my. I imagined them
panties bunching up under hose. I imagined it not be very comfortable so
I took the panties off and put my tighty whities back on.
I picked up the hose and began gathering the material toward the toes
like I had seen my mother do many times. I got up onto my bed, laid on my
back and stuck the toes of one foot up in the air and into the bunched up
hose. Slowly pulled the stocking up my leg. I repeated with the other
leg. Once I got them most of the way up I stood up and worked the top of
the pantyhose up to my waist.
The hose felt so good. I looked down at myself and my smooth shimmery
legs. Quickly I walked to the bathroom to see myself in the mirror, my
thighs rubbing together and making a faint zip-zip sound as a I walked.
In the mirror I saw women's legs, for a moment. Then I saw my leg hair
through the hose and I saw my boy underwear making ugly lines in the top
part. Revulsion overcame me. I hated how I looked. I returned to the
bedroom, stripped the stockings off as quickly as I could and stashed the
balled up mess with my panties in the back of my bottom drawer.
I looked at my legs again. All that hair. I thought I should shave my
legs. But what if I wanted to wear shorts or go swimming. Someone would
see. They might guess. Or even accuse me.
But winter was approaching. I would probably be wearing long pants
anyway. Returning to the bathroom, I picked up the razor and shaving
cream I used for my face. I stripped naked and got into the shower. I
sprayed my legs with hot water before lathering up one leg just above the
ankle. Slowly I dragged my razor from my ankle about an inch toward my
knee. The razor cleared away the shaving cream leaving behind a lot of
hair. I looked at the razor and saw a bunch of hair there too. I rinsed
the blade off under the faucet and ran the razor across the same patch
again. Again, there was a lot of hair both in the razor and remaining on
my leg. This is going to take too long, I thought. I rinsed off the cream
and got out of the tub to retrieve my electric clippers. Making sure the
tub was dry first, I plugged the clippers in and began running them up
and down both my legs. It still took a long time and I kept missing
patches, but after about twenty minutes all of my leg hair was short
enough to be invisible.
Still naked, I walked back to my bedroom and fished the pantyhose back
out of my hidden stash. I untangled and unrolled them a bit. I saw the
diamond of cotton in the crotch of hose. They are called "panty"-hose for
a reason. Maybe I don't need to wear underwear with them. I worked the
stocking back over my legs and over my naked bum and returned to the
bathroom for the mirror. I was much more pleased with how I looked now.
And the hose felt better with less hair. My boy parts were still bulging
in the front so I stretched out the top and reached down to push my parts
back between my legs. And I pulled the hose up tight to try to hold it in
place. I was even more pleased with my appearance after that.
I returned to my room, pulled my long khaki slacks over my stockings, put
socks on over the stockings and spent the rest of the day wearing my new
pantyhose. They did feel wonderful. My clothes seemed to slide over my
legs as I moved. I was also noticeably warmer. I entertained the notion
of wearing them under my regular clothes during the winter. I'd heard
football players did that when they played games in the winter. Would I
dare wear my hose to work under my normal clothes? Surely, not. Someone
would catch me. Also, I discovered that the pantyhose made using the
bathroom a lot more difficult.
That night I followed the care instructions printed on the plastic bag
they came in to hand wash and hang dry my stockings. I only had the one
pair and I wanted to take care of them. Each day when I came home from
work I would change into my pantyhose. Each night when I went to bed I
would carefully remove, wash and hang them to dry. This continued for the
next week. I finished shaving off my leg stubble during that time. I was
so happy although I knew that sooner or later my pair of stocking would
meet their end of life and I would have to find some discreet way to
replace them.
Exactly one week after I received my package, I found another letter in
the mail from Hanes in my mailbox.
Grace
- 14.02.2020
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