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It started at Halloween. Several co-workers arrived as fantasy characters. Some female colleagues came dressed in male suits. I was the only male who turned up in a dress. I'd bought the dress in a charity shop. It was quite lucky that it fitted me as well as it did. It was quite tight around the bust area, but this was OK because I didn't have any tits. The skirt came to about three inches above the knee. I'd also found a pair of ladies' shoes in the same shop. They had one and a half inch heels and were quite wide fitting. Not particularly glamorous (nor was the dress), but certainly not the sort of shoes a man would wear with male clothes. I realised that my legs were rather hairy, so I had shaved them before putting on a pair of tights over my male underpants. Then on with the dress and shoes. I didn't do anything with my hair as it was quite long and could be thought of as "unisex". I didn't have any make-up. So that was it. A man turning up to the office on Halloween in a dress. Just a bit of fun. There was a good deal of joshing in the office, not particularly aimed at me. We were all dressed up as something or someone else. The girls insisted on putting some lipstick on me. And there were some photographs, of course. A couple of weeks later - in good time for the last Friday of the month when we were allowed to turn up in more casual clothes than usual - I was approached by a couple of my female co-workers. "We saw that you had nice legs when you wore a dress at Halloween. Why don't you wear a skirt again on "dress-down" Friday?" asked one. "Yes," added the other, with a little giggle. "Dress up instead of dressing down." They went on to explain that if I was willing to go along with this idea, all the other girls in the office would chip in with some funds to buy me some pretty clothes. Although this was totally unexpected, I immediately felt a little tingling in the end of my cock. I hesitated to answer. Not because I didn't want to wear a dress, but because I was a little reluctant to admit it to the girls. But it was an opportunity that I knew might not ever arise again. I looked up at them and slowly nodded. "All right then," I murmured, desperately trying to sound nonchalant. So that'd how it happened that a group of us went into town one lunchtime and I acquired a lightly padded teen bra, a pale pink stretchy top, a pastel blue skirt and a pair of white shoes with two inch heels. And on the last Friday of November I turned up early in the office wearing my new outfit. I had taken off my shoes to drive the car to work as I worried about using the pedals while wearing heels. As arranged, a couple of other girls had turned up early to meet me, and spent a few minutes applying make-up for me and lightly styling my hair. They took some more photos, some of my face and some full-length. Later when the other colleagues arrived, I was the centre of attention. I was the "office girl" - in fact, the only one in the office wearing a skirt. Everyone else was wearing trousers or jeans. There were comments from my few male colleagues such as "At least we've got one pair of pretty legs to look at." But there was no real unpleasantness and my female co- workers were very protective. And I quite enjoyed the freedom of wearing a skirt, although I soon realised that a lot of my colleagues were anxious to see up it. I had to take care about keeping my knees together or my legs crossed, and to keep checking that my pretty skirt was properly arranged. I also enjoyed the sensation of wearing a bra. Feeling the straps gently but insistently gripping my back and my shoulders. And of having the slight, but discernible, shape of tiny boobies visible under my clingy jumper. In fact, I liked it so much that from that day on I wore my bra every day. It didn't really show under my male clothes. But it felt so good. Comfortable and comforting. My little secret bit of feminine lingerie. And in the evening around the house I wore all my new clothes. But in fact, my bra-wearing hadn't gone unnoticed. At the end of the first week, a couple of the girls in the office came over to my desk. One put her hand on my back, indicating to me that she could feel my bra-strap. "Time for some more clothes shopping?" she asked. "We'll come and pick you up on Saturday morning about 9am. Then we can get to the shops before they all get busy. You'll need to wear your skirt, of course." Although I was initially rather shocked at this unexpected suggestion, I quickly realised that it was a good idea. A boy can't keep wearing the same skirt and top every day, can he? And it would be easier to have some girls to help me choose suitable items, to help with the sizes and to ensure that the things would look good on me. I was up early on Saturday. I shaved my legs again to ensure they were smooth. Audrey and Jennie arrived on the dot of 9am and spent a few minutes working on my hair and applying make-up. Then we set off. I hoped I would not meet anyone who knew me, (and as far as I know, none of my acquaintances saw me during the day). I was a little surprised that we started off looking at underwear. Seeing my questioning look, Audrey asked "Have you got any pretty knickers?" I shook my head. "Well then," she said. "You need to understand that wearing the right underwear makes you feel good. If you want to look like a girl, you need to feel feminine." They advised me to choose the fuller style of knickers. Knickers that came up to my waist. "These will cover your pretty little bottom and everything at the front as well," said Jennie. "Yes," laughed Audrey. "You need to have knickers that allow room for growth!" They both giggled. I ended up buying a dozen pairs of silky knickers, some different colours, but mostly pink. "Even if nobody sees them, YOU will know that you're wearing pretty pink knickers," said Audrey. "And your knickers will feel even nicer if you are not wearing tights over the top of them," said Jennie. "But to wear stockings, you'll need a suspender-belt." They helped me choose a white lace-up suspender-belt. It had hook-and-eye fastenings at the front. Audrey explained that I would need to fasten the belt at the front, then pull the back laces as tight as was comfortable before tying them in a bow at the back. To go with the suspender-belt, I bought 4 identical pairs of dark tan stockings. Jennie had advised me never to buy just one pair, because if one stocking was damaged I would have to throw the other stocking away as well. They also helped me choose another bra. "You can't wear the same bra every day," said Audrey. "Bras need to be washed sometimes!" But this second bra wasn't a teen bra. it had C cups. "You might not have your own tits yet," said Jennie, "but you might want to pad the cups out with something to give you a more girly shape." It had not escaped my notice that Jennie had a generously sized and bouncy bust. "But you can leave the cups empty if you want to wear the bra under male clothes." Only after leaving the underwear store did we start looking at skirts, tops and dresses. "For the moment," said Audrey, "it would be best to get stretchy tops that you can wear with either of your bras, until you decide what size tits you want to have." So I got a couple of jumpers, and also some white blouses that I could wear in the office to look like shirts under my suit. In another store I found a red long-sleeved dress with a black trimmed collar. The girls though it would look good on me. "Why don't you try it on?" asked Audrey. We all went over to the fitting room. When I removed my skirt and top, the girls looked disparagingly at my tights and underpants. "I think you need to change those as well," said Jennie. I tried to turn away to conceal my nakedness until I had pilled up a pair of pink knickers. But, of course, there were mirrors all round the fitting room, so this wasn't really very successful. Then I had to pull my knickers down a little way so that the girls could help me on with the suspender-belt. "Breathe in," said Audrey as she pulled the laces tight. Jennie explained that I needed the suspenders to be threaded down inside my knickers. "When you go for a pee, you want to be able to just pull your knickers down, not have to unfasten everything," she explained quietly. Audrey helped me with my stockings, showing me how to collect the nylon over my thumbs, before putting my foot into the toe of the stocking, then spreading it carefully up my leg. Then how to fasten the suspenders and adjust them tautly. "They need to be tight to avoid wrinkled stockings," she said. "The dress is going to look better if you have a bust," said Jennie. She helped me change into my new bra and padded the cups with some pairs of knickers. Finally I could step into the dress. Jennie fastened the long back zip for me. I stepped my shoes and looked at my reflection. I liked what I saw. If only my tits were real! But we had spent rather a long time in the fitting room, and the attendant called out to ask if we were all right. Audrey said we were just fine and would be out shortly. I quickly changed back into my skirt and top. Just as before. Except that now I had a bust. And as we walked out of the fitting room to go and pay for the dress. I also discovered what it felt like to wear stockings. How the suspenders tugged on the stockings with each step. And how cool and soft my knickers felt as the silky material slid on the cheeks of my bottom, and gently supported my male bits. This was a totally new sensation. I decided I would never wear tights again! Audrey looked at her watch. It was 11.30. How time flies when you're having fun! "I think it's time to go and have a sit down," she said. As we left the dress shop I had thought we would be going to a caf?, but instead we entered a beauty salon. An appointment had already been booked for me. Hair styling, manicure, ear piercing, make-up. "Just relax and enjoy being pampered. We'll come back later when you're looking pretty and then we'll go for lunch together," said Jennie. When the girls returned, I knew that my appearance was rather more feminine. They looked at me approvingly. "Who's a pretty boy, then?" giggled Audrey. I felt myself blush; she hadn't spoken particularly quietly and a few heads turned. I was glad to leave the salon. As we walked along to a little Italian restaurant, Jennie stopped near a rubbish bin. She reached into the shopping bags and took out the male underpants I had taken off in the dress shop. She placed them in the bin. "You won't be needing those again, will you?" A symbolic gesture! But, of course, she was right. By the time we left the restaurant the sky had clouded over and it was a bit cooler. I could feel the cool air reaching up my skirt. My stockings kept my legs remarkably warm, considering that the layer of nylon was so thin, but of course my thighs were bare and my knickers weren't encased in tights as they had been earlier in the day. The sensation reminded me that I was relying on my skirt hanging down demurely to conceal my bare thighs and stocking-tops from public view (not to mention my pink knickers covering a male bulge). And, unlike wearing trousers, my skirt was not in continuous contact with my legs, so I had to keep checking my reflection in shop windows to reassure myself that my skirt was correctly deployed. Unlike my female colleagues, I did not have the confidence that years of experience in skirt-wearing would have brought. But actually, this sensation of vulnerability, the risk of flashing my underwear, was quite thrilling in itself. I felt a little tingle in the end of my cock. But the change in the weather prompted us to do more shopping. I bought a light raincoat, and wore it for the rest of the way home. Back at my house the girls helped me put my new purchases neatly into drawers and onto hangers. I was surprised how many pairs of knickers I had acquired. Audrey put all my male underpants into one of the shopping bags that were now empty. "You need to get rid of these to make room for your new underwear," she said. "We'll take them away and get rid of them for you." They reminded me that I would need to wipe off my make-up before going to bed, otherwise both the bedclothes and I would look rather a mess in the morning. When they had left me alone in the house I moved a few mirrors into strategic places so that I could see my reflection when walking along the hallway, or sitting down in the lounge, for example. I practised "accidentally" displaying some stocking-tops and even a glimpse of bare thigh. And of course, if I wanted to I could spread my legs or lift my skirt so that I could show off my pretty knickers as well. As I tried this several times my cock got hard again. But I was very careful not to touch it. I didn't want a sticky mess. Not until I could wank under controlled conditions. I went into the bedroom took off my skirt and got a tissue ready. Standing in front of the wardrobe mirror I admired my stockinged legs and the way my pretty pink knickers were distended by the tent-pole of the erection inside them. But I wasn't quite quick enough with the tissue to avoid creaming my knickers. So there was a sticky mess after all. But at least I had collected most of it on the tissue. I went to the bathroom, stepped out of my heels, and carefully removed my soaking knickers. At least I was able to avoid any cum-stains on my stockings. At the washbasin I used a flannel and soapy water to clean my cock. Then I washed my soiled knickers, gently rubbing the silky material with my fingers before rinsing them and laying them on a towel to dry. Then I went back to the bedroom and put on a fresh pair of knickers. My now-shrivelled cock nestled snugly in the comforting silky fabric. I now appreciated the wisdom of choosing this style of knickers. Whether my cock was shrivelled like now or throbbingly erect, these knickers would keep it comfortingly contained and supported. I suddenly had a vision of myself standing out in the garden wearing only bra, knickers, stockings, suspenders and high heels, while I hung several pairs of my knickers out to dry on the washing-line. I felt a little thrill of excitement and the faintest tingle at the end of my cock, but I knew that I would not be doing any such thing in view of my neighbours any time soon. I put my skirt and heels back on and enjoyed the rest of the day in female attire. After a light meal in the evening I relaxed in front of the television with a gin and tonic. Although I often chose G&T, it now seemed to me a particularly girly choice. And of course, when a girl has had a drink she feels more relaxed and perhaps doesn't take so much care to keep her knees together. Even (or perhaps especially) if there is a mirror handily placed so that she can see just how much of her underwear she is revealing... I had to wank again before getting into bed. And I needed to again the next morning when I woke up wearing only a pair of silky knickers. More washing of underwear was required. I tried on different outfits to wear around the house on Sunday. The only thing that was tricky was the back zip on my red dress. Fastening and unfastening this was going to require some practice. But it felt wonderful to wear, especially as, unlike a skirt, it did not fit snugly at the waist. There was almost a sensation of semi-nakedness; that my underwear could so easily be inadvertently on display. I realised that I yearned for this feeling of vulnerability. I would have to get more dresses. Monday morning came around all too soon. After showering and shaving (and more knicker-washing), I came back into the bedroom and put on my teen bra. As I was reaching to a clean pair of knickers I realised that Audrey had removed all my male socks as well as my underpants. So I would have to wear stockings and suspenders again. What a shame! I put on a white blouse and was surprised to find that the buttons were on the opposite side from the ones on my male shirts. Also, the collar was a bit softer. And the material was a bit more transparent so that my bra showed through where it touched; there was a hint of lace at the top of the cups. But I was confident that this would not be noticeable when I was wearing a jacket and tie. I had to tighten the belt on my trousers an extra notch as my waisted was cinched by my laced-up suspender-belt. I checked my appearance in the mirror before putting my jacket on. Yes, I could see a hint of a bra. And as my trousers were now slightly bunched round my waist, my hips looked looked just a little more prominent. And the way my trousers slid over my silky knickers made my bum feel a bit bigger. When I put my jacket on, my bra and cinched waist were hidden. But as I fastened my shoes I realised that there might be a glimpse of my nylon-clad ankles when I was seated at my desk. As far as I know, none of my male colleagues noticed anything. But girls don't miss much, do they? Audrey came over to my desk on the Thursday. "It's your birthday tomorrow, isn't it?" I nodded. "Well, even though it's not the end of the month, and so tomorrow is just an ordinary Friday," she said, "but it's a special day for you, so why don't you wear a skirt to work tomorrow? After all, you've been wearing a bra and stockings all week." I had to think about this for a few moments, but finally asked "Do you think it would be OK? Wouldn't anybody mind?" "You'll be fine," she replied. "Come to the office at 8am and we'll make sure you are looking your best. It'll be a birthday to enjoy and remember!" She handed me a package. "Use this to make yourself smooth and hairless," she said. "It will make your underwear feel so much nicer." I glanced in the package and saw that it was a tube of depilatory cream. So on the Friday I was up early. I spread the cream over my legs, bottom and all my pubic area. Then I shaved my face, and as an afterthought, shaved my underarms as well. The depilatory cream smelt a little strange as I rinsed it off under the shower, but it certainly worked. My legs felt as smooth as glass and my hairless cock and balls looked amazingly clean and, if not exactly feminine, certainly less masculine. My knickers felt really wonderful, soft, silky and comforting in intimate contact with my smooth hairless flesh. It was really easy to put my stockings on, but my legs were now so smooth that my stockings would slide down if they were not attached to taut suspenders. I put on my bra and stuffed the cups with several pairs of knickers. By the time I had put on my blouse and skirt and stepped into my shoes I was fairly pleased with my appearance. I brushed my hair, which still had a hint of the styling from the previous weekend, even though I had been trying to brush it out all week to try and appear outwardly male. I didn't (yet) have any make-up to put on. I got to the office a few minutes before eight, but Audrey and Jennie were already there waiting for me. We went into the conference-room and shut the door. I must have looked rather surprised. "Don't worry," said Audrey. "We're all girls together. No-one will disturb us in here." "Right," said Jennie, "slip off your skirt and blouse." Moments later I was standing in bra, knickers, stockings and heels . "You'll need to take your bra off as well," said Audrey. She showed my a box containing some silicone breast-forms. "We need to make sure we are getting these in exactly the right place. Come and stand on the podium so I can see what I'm doing." Jennie put the podium lights on. Audrey placed one of the breast-forms in position and told me to hold it. Then she stepped back check how it looked. She returned and moved it a little. "I think that will be OK. Now the other one." Again she stepped back to look while I held my boobies in place. They had felt cool to start with, but now the chill had gone off them. "OK," said Audrey. "Now I'm going to glue them on for you." She took the left one, telling my to hold the right one in place. Then she sprayed the back of the breast- form while Jennie wiped the left side of my chest with surgical spirit. Audrey carefully placed the left breast-form in place, making sure it aligned with the one I was holding. Soon afterwards I was holding two boobies in placed while the glue set. My bra straps needed adjusting now that the cups had "real" boobies in them. Although they were not real tits, they now felt part of my body. I was surprised how heavy they felt. Now I understood why women wear bras most of the time! I had to change my posture to push my shoulders a little further back to balance the weight of my new titties. This seemed to make my bottom stick out more. And something else was also sticking out more. There was now a huge tentpole in my knickers. The two girls exchanged glances. "I'll have to deal with that," said Jennie, pulling my knickers down and kneeling in front of me. She had obviously sucked a cock before. I didn't last very long before gushing into her mouth. She kept working with her tongue and lips until my cock was not just limp, but not much bigger than my thumb nail. "Now you don't want any embarrassing cock-ups like that when you're in the office, do you?" said Audrey, "so we are going to put a chastity device on for you." I could see that there were two parts, a ring that fitted behind my balls and a sort of tube that enclosed my cock. the two parts were held in place by a little padlock. Although I had expected her to put my cock though the ring, in fact Audrey gently manoeuvred my balls through the ring first, then squeezed my cock into my body, then pulled it through the ring with my balls. The ring was a snug fit behind my balls and I realised that it could only be put in place when my cock was really small and squidgy. The front part of the device was also rather small. But so was my cock after Jennie had dealt with it. The lock was put into place and snapped shut. "You can pull your knickers up now," said Audrey. She handed me a gold chain with a little key dangling from it. "Wear this round your neck," she said. "Then you won't lose the key." I put my blouse and skirt back on and the girls quickly brushed my hair and applied a hint of lipstick. "Time to start work," said Jennie. I looked at the clock. It was nearly 9 o'clock. And as we left the conference room, I could see that most of the girls were at their desks. They smiled at me and I smiled back a little nervously. I went to my desk and tried to concentrate on my work. I was aware of the weight of my bust and how my boobs now felt part of me. Sometimes if I reached for something on my desk, my arm would contact my tit and I could feel my tit move a little. Part of my chest now. The chastity device was not uncomfortable. In fact I was hardly conscious of wearing it. It certainly provided a level of security; of confidence that I would not get an embarrassing hard-on while it was in place. The day seemed to pass quickly. I was accepted as one of the girls. I was included more in conversations. Even girly conversations about clothes and boyfriends. And before it was time to go home, I received a birthday present from the girls in the office. It was a pretty nightie with matching knickers and a sort of bra. Audrey explained that it was a sleep-bra. "You'll be more comfortable if you wear this overnight. Now we'll come and pick you up in the morning. You might want to do a bit more shopping!" Back home I opened the birthday cards that had come through the post. One was from my mum - what would she think if she could see me now? I prepared a meal and watched the TV while I ate it. A special birthday meal. I may have been on my own, but I was had my wonderful tits and was wearing a skirt and stockings. A birthday girl with shapely tits and no cock. Or at least only a tiny bit of something safely locked away in my knickers. I put on my new nightie to go to bed. It was quite short. Not long enough to cover my knickers. I felt very girlie. Contented. No erection. But girls don't have erections, do we? And the next morning I found myself once again walking into town with Audrey and Jennie. Wearing a dress, and feeling quite feminine with tits that bounced as I walked. And my tiny cock safely locked away. No danger of any skirt-lifting erections! Once or twice I felt a squeezing sensation when the little device reminded my cock that no growth was allowed. We purchased some more dresses, shoes, make-up and ear-rings. And more knickers, of course. After a relaxed lunch we walked home. The girls helped me hang up my new dresses. "Your wardrobe is getting a bit full," said Audrey. "You need to think about getting rid of items you don't need any more." We all smiled. I knew she was suggesting that I wouldn't wear male trousers again. Jennie said that the two of them would come round on Sunday evening. "You can enjoy being girly all weekend. Then we'll sort you out for going back to the office next week." After they had gone I walked round the house tidying a few things. Not any serious dusting or cleaning, but nevertheless feeling like a housewife. I stroked my body through my dress, trying to imagine that it was someone else's hands caressing my bottom or fondling my tits. My tits really felt part of me. And again I had those feminine feelings. Bouncy tits and no cock. Wearing a dress, stockings, knickers, heels... Feeling sexy, attractive,... And, perhaps surprisingly, I was still enjoying NOT having an erection. Still being a girl. And, of course, we girls have to sit down to pee, don't we? And after a good night's sleep (wearing my birthday nightie again), I was up fairly early on the Sunday morning, anxious not to miss any of my weekend girliness. I enjoyed a soaping my tits in the shower. I just wished that my tits could feel my hands in response to the way my hands could feel my tits. I dried myself off and then put on clean knickers and stockings along with one of my new dresses. I washed the knickers and stockings from the day before in the bathroom basin. I got a little thrill from seeing my laundered underwear hanging up to dry! I spent the Sunday morning doing a few more little tidying up jobs around the house. Using the hoover. Cleaning the inside of the windows. As well as a bit of posing and practising sitting down and crossing my legs. I decided that my legs looked rather good in stockings. It was rather a shame to cover them up with trousers. But that reminded me that there were only a few short hours left. The girls would be coming round to unglue my tits so that I could resume my (outwardly) male personality in the office on Monday morning. And I started to think that perhaps I should remove the chastity device before the girls arrived. And that part of the transition back to maleness would be the sensation of having tits AND an erection. I remembered how hard my cock had been when my tits were first glued on, and how good my cock had felt enclosed in my silky knickers... I pulled down my knickers and sat down with my skirt lifted up. I unfastened the little gold chain from round my neck and tried to unlock the little padlock on my chastity device. But the key would not fit! And when I examined the lock I could see that it needed a key with grooves on both sides, whereas the "key" on my necklace was made from a piece of flat metal. No grooves. Panic! I didn't have the phone numbers of Audrey or Jennie. I just had to hope that they would bring the right key with them. Or at the very least, that they could bring the key to the office on Monday. I pulled my knickers back up and smoothed down my dress. I would just have to wait until the girls arrived. And now I was beginning to want to be a boy again as soon as possible. After all, even after my stick-on tits were removed I could still enjoy wearing female underwear. But by this time, getting back to a flat-chested maleness was becoming more important than enjoying the sensation of having tits. It had been really good to have a girly shape for a few days, but now I needed to get back to normal. It seemed ages until Audrey and Jennie rang the doorbell. I let them in. "You're not wearing your necklace," said Jennie. I explained that I had tried to use it, but that it didn't fit the lock. "Well, it's not a real key," explained Audrey. "It's just a symbol. Reassurance for the girls in the office. When they see it they know that your cock is safely locked away. You need to put it back on." "But," I protested, "you're going to unglue these boobies so that I go back to being a fella again. So I don't need to keep wearing the chastity device, do I?" "Don't be silly," replied Audrey. "That medical adhesive will last for weeks. maybe even months. Those are high quality prosthetic breasts. You don't suppose we spent all that money just for you to wear them for a weekend do you?" "But.." I began. "Calm down, dear," said Jennie. " We said we'd come to sort you out, didn't we? We knew that by this time you'd be needing to release the pressure that's been building up while your cock has been locked away. Now go and get a glass. There's a good girl." I reached out a glass and she took it from my. "Now hold your skirt up." She pulled down my knickers. She showed me that she was holding a vibrator. "This will sort you out." Moments later the vibrator was switched on. It was obviously being held in contact with my chastity device. I could feel my cock start to swell. And of course it could not grow very much before it was tightly fitting the limited space available inside the device. And as soon as this happened the vibrations seemed to become much more intense. Suddenly I felt very weak and tired. I had to lean on Audrey's shoulder for support. The vibrations continued, but the squeezing sensation stopped. I realised that I had emptied my balls and that Jennie was just waiting for the last drops to fall into the glass she was holding. She switched off the vibrator and handed me the glass. "Drink up," she said. "Swallowing cum is a girly thing to do." While I did this she pulled my knickers up again. Once I had swallowed, there was still a bit of cum sticking to the side of the glass. Audrey wiped this with her finger and held it up as if she was pointing. "Lick my cock," she said. She kept her finger stiff as I took it into my mouth. "I know it's not as big as a real cock," she said "but it's bigger than yours." Both girls smiled. "Now it's no use pretending that you didn't enjoy being one of the office girls," said Jennie. "Even when you were wearing trousers you had girl's underwear on, didn't you?" "Yes," added Audrey, "and you were wearing a bra even when you didn't have tits." I couldn't really deny this. I had enjoyed it. But I hadn't expected that I would continue as an office girl for more than an occasional day. "You'll be know in the office as Sissy from now on," said Jennie. "Now tell me what your name is." "Er, Sissy," I mumbled. "I didn't really hear that," said Audrey. "Who are you?" "I'm Sissy," I replied. "That's right," said Jennie. "You're the office sissy." She reached a USB stick from her handbag. "You might want to watch this video before you come to the office on Monday. Most of the other girls have already seen it." Even before I watched it I knew what it would be. I knew that there was a video system in the conference room where my tits had been glued on. While I was standing in my underwear. And where I had a huge erection in my knickers. And had been given a blow-job before the chastity device had been fitted. I remembered how the girls had smiled at me as I stepped into the office that morning. Perhaps they had been watching the show being live- streamed? "So we look forward to seeing you in a skirt tomorrow morning, Sissy," said Audrey. "This is the new normal for you now. And you do have nice legs!" Her use of that phrase reminded me of another term that we got used to hearing in the fairly recent past:: "Locked down". Both of these words described the "new normal" state of my cock.