textfiles/sex/EROTICA/S/spent.txt

How I Spent My Summer Vacation
by Pegan

******

It was one of those classical  May days when all should have been right
with world.  The sun was shining brightly, the air was warm with a promise
of summer, a sweet perfume of spring flowers drifted in the air, birds
were chirping merrily.  It was day to gladden the heart of anyone, but I
was feeling rotten.  I was angry, hurt, and humiliated. 

I was returning from the construction site on the outskirts of town.  Bob
and Charlie, my two best friends, and I went out there to try to get
summer jobs.  The three of us would be entering our senior year in high
school in the fall.  We planned to go to college together, to major in
civil engineering, and eventually to become partners on our own company. 
We thought the job would give us valuable experience and give us a chance
to earn some much needed money.

Bob and Charlie, both of them rugged and athletic,  were hired
immediately.  I, with my slight build, was rejected.  It was even worse
than that; I was scornfully rejected.  "What am I supposed to do with
you?" the foreman snorted.  "This ain't no place for dainty little wimp
like you."

He continued with his verbal abuse until I finally recovered from my
shock, turned and began to walk away.  Jeers, catcalls, and contemptuous
laughter from everyone there followed me.  From everyone, including two 
women who had jobs there--and from Bob and Charlie.

I had to talk to someone and there was only one person to whom I could
talk to: my friend Pam.  I couldn't talk to my widowed mother.  Although I
never doubted her love she just didn't understand boys or their problems,
regardless of how much sympathy she felt.  My sister Alice, two years
older than me, viewed me with complete contempt and would have gladly
joined my tormenters out at the construction site.  And, obviously, I
could notr talk to Bob and Charlie.

Pam is a wonderful person.  I have always felt free to express my thoughts
and feelings with her with full confidence that she will be a loving,
sympathetic,  understanding listener.  I knew she would never betray my
secrets.  She has lived next door to me for as long as I can remember, and
we have been friends since we were little kids.  She has always been my
best friend.

I went to see Pam and told he about my experience at the construction
site.  She held my hand as I gave her the details and gave it encouraging
squeezes when I faltered.  After I finished she kissed me on the cheek. 

"Poor Harold.  It must have been terrible," she said sympathetically.

"It was," I admitted and I began to sob. 

Pam comforted me with hugs and kisses.  After awhile I stopped crying and
she dried my tears with her handkerchief.  She took hold of my hand again
and held it firmly.

"Well, Harold, I'm certainly sorry that your feelings were hurt, but I am
happy that you won't be working out there.  I know you wanted the
experience of working of working at a construction site, but maybe it's 
just as well that you won't be at the site.  Personally, I didn't want 
you working there, and I'm not even sure that civil engineering is the 
right career choice for you.  As for your money problem, I have a 
solution.  Mother is needs help in her shop, and I'm sure she would hire 
you if you applied.

"But...but, Pam, it's a lingerie shop," I stammered feeling very
embarrassed,  "I can't work there!"

"Why not, Silly?" she asked with a laugh.  "Mother needs help in the
stockroom and you need a job.  If you take the job we can work together
all summer.  Think how much fun that will be."  "Besides," she continued
with a mischievous glint in her eyes,  "Mother has an excellent health
program for her employees.  So if anything happens to you, such as you
begin growing breasts due to handling too many brassieres, you can go to
the hospital for appropriate treatment. Like the crew of the Starship
Enterprise on Star Trek you can '...boldly go where no man has gone
before.'"

Pam lead me to see how silly my attitude had been.  I applied for the job
and was hired.  When I told Mother about the job she seemed a little
amused, but she also seemed pleased.  She congratulated me for finding my
first job and wished me luck.  Alice gave a characteristic snort.

On the first day of my summer vacation I was to become as an employee of
Monique's Lingerie Shoppe. When I entered the shop to begin my first day
on the job I was met at the door by Ms.  Bonet, Pam's mother.  Ms. Bonet
is strikingly attractive person with such a strong persona that I have
always felt intimidated by her.  She took me to her office for a talk. 
She gave me a warm welcome and told me that she was very confident that I
would do a good job.  The warm welcome and expression of confidence made
me feel more at ease.  After our talk she turned me over to Pam for
supervision and training. 

I was thankful to have the job and delighted to have Pam as my supervisor.
 I was, however, tremendously embarrassed.  I doubted if handling panties,
bras, nightgowns and other items of women's intimate wear was appropriate
masculine employment.  I also felt as if I were an intruder:  in a place
where I didn't belong, seeing things I shouldn't see.  Pam took great
delight in my embarrassment and kept adding to it.  "Oh, Harold, look at
these!  Aren't they pretty?" she would call.  When I looked she would be
holding up a pair of lacy panties for me to see.  At other times it might
be a sexy bra, or a teddy, or a nightgown.  I don't think I stopped
blushing during my whole first week there. 

After my first week my embarrassment somewhat eased.  I had the
exhilarating experience of getting my first paycheck.  The additional time
that I got spend with Pam was great.  There were some problems, however,
and soon Ms. Bonet called me to her office. I entered her office meekly
not knowing what to expect.  I was relieved to be greeted with a smile. 
Pam, who was there too, was also smiling.

"Harold, first of all I want you to know how much I appreciate how hard
you've been working and how hard you've been trying to learn," Ms. Bonet
began.  "But there is a problem.  It's your lack of familiarity with
lingerie.  You're making mistakes.  Just yesterday, for example, when you
were asked to bring contour bras you brought padded bras;   the day before
you were asked to bring bikini panties and you brought thongs.  And there
have been other similar problems.  I'm not scolding you.  I know there's
no reason for you to know much about lingerie.  I only want to bring the
problem to your attention, because I know from what I've seen of your
attitude that you will try to improve.  Pam has agreed to tutor you to
help you  become knowledgeable to a level appropriate to a lingerie shop
employee."

I began to blush again.  Pam clapped her hands with delight and said, 
"Ohhh, Harold, this is going to be so much fun!   I hope you don't find me
too stern a school mistress, but I'll expect you to learn a lot, and I'll
give homework." 

My tutoring began.  Pam would, for example, select a  number of bras and
teach me to identify different styles and the reason for the different
styles.  Each night I was required to take home catalogs and study 
them.  Pam proved to be a very demanding school mistress if not a stern 
one.  She would quiz me constantly. 

"What's the difference between a padded, a contour, and a natural bra?" 

"A padded bra has padding to increase the appearance of the breasts about
one cup size, a contour bra is lined to improve shape but not add size, a
natural bra molds itself to the natural shape of the breasts."

"Describe these panties."

"They're nylon bikinis, detailed lace, aqua."

Correct answers brought compliments, and incorrect ones brought scolding.
I was becoming such a diligent student that I was making few errors. I had
always been kind of an indifferent student, and receiving praise for my
learning was a new and exhilarating experience. I didn't know quite what
to make of this new information I was acquiring. It was a very strange
situation. I felt  very much like a spy learning secrets of another
country.  I felt myself growing much closer to Pam as she shared
information of these things so important to women.  I became preoccupied
wondering what the women with whom I had contact were wearing. 
Especially,  I wondered what Pam was wearing under her dresses.

Things were going well.  I was learning my lessons well and beginning to
feel at ease.   My self-confidence continued to  increase as a made  still
fewer and fewer mistakes.  This was a great feeling for a person 
successes of any kind to boast about. Just as I thought everything was
great Ms. Bonet called Pam and me to her office again.I was very concerned
just as I had been the first time I was called to her office.  There is
something about being called to an office that bodes of bad fortune.

Monique Bonet-much to my relief-greeted me with a big smile and warm
words.  The three of us chatted for awhile.  She tested me,  and I
described and I identified  the features of various styles of bras, 
panties,  and other items of lingerie.  Ms.  Bonet nodded with approval to
my responses.

"Well, Harold, your progress is excellent.  I felt certain that it would
be. I have always considered you to be a boy of good character  with a
great potential for  success if motivated.   It's obvious that you are
finding a sense of pride in yourself because of the good job you're doing
and all that you have learned about lingerie."

"Yes,  I do feel kind of proud of myself,"  I admitted.  I felt a little
embarrassed because I still thought that construction site was a more 
appropriate area for me to be working.

"As pleased as I am with your progress I think that your development is on
a  plateau.  If you are to continue in adding to your knowledge and
understanding of women's lingerie a more radical form of training may be
necessary.  It would be something like the lab periods you had when you
were taking physics."

'Wha...wha...what do you mean?

"Pam and I both feel that your knowledge of lingerie is too academic. We
want you to have more hands on experience. You've  learned Pam's lessons
well;  you've  studied the catalogs and learned a good deal from them.  
But you don't know the pleasures of wearing beautiful lingerie.  You don't
know about the pleasure of looking in the mirror and seeing yourself
dressed in beautiful lingerie.  You don't know the satisfaction of taking
care of beautiful lingerie."

"But...but Ms. Bonet, of course I don't!  I'm...I'm a boy! How could I
know about those things?"  I could feel my face burning with
embarrassment.

"Of course, you're  a boy, Harold.  But an intelligent boy, a boy who has
to now demonstrated a willingness to try new things. And we are going to
require it if you are to continue working here. Who knows? You may find
you're  a boy who enjoys wearing a bra and panties,  who may find
unexpected pleasure in sleeping in a silky nightgown.  I wonder, Harold,
if you are such a boy."

"No! Boys don't wear things like that!  I would never wear women's
clothing! My face continued to burn with embarrassment.  I felt that my 
masculinity was under attack.

"Now, Harold, don't get so excited.  Listen calmly to what I have to say. 
I think-and Pam agrees-that you should begin wearing lingerie. You should
know what it's like to wear women's undergarments.  It is the obvious next
step in your job training.  And I think you would like them if you gave
them a fair trial."

 Pam broke in, "Oh, please, Harold. Do it." 

"But...but...but," I stammered.

"Harold, calm down," Ms. Bonet said.

Pam took my hand a squeezed it for encouragement;  it helped at least a
little bit.

"As I told you, Pam and I think that you have learned about as much as you
can through her instruction and through studying catalogs. It is important
that you learn the pleasures of wearing it and the responsibility of
caring for it. We want you to wear lingerie for the remainder of the
summer.  We want you to sample our merchandise:  panties, bras, teddies,
garter belts, and everything else that we sell.  We will provide you with
a nice beginning ensemble.  If you want to add to it later on you will
have an employee's discount."

"But, Ms. Bonet, I'm a boy,"  I protested again but feebly.

Pam squeezed my hand again.  "Harold, shhh.  Mother and I know that you
are a  boy." I sat back in the chair again and Ms. Bonet continued.

"We want you to wear lingerie at work and at home.  During the night you
will sleep in a nightgown.  When you're at home you can wear whatever you
choose over your undergarments.  However, when you're at work you will be
wearing a slip and therefore you will have to wear a dress or a blouse and
skirt.  You've probably noticed that all my other employees are required
to wear dresses or blouses and skirts.  Until now I have made an exception
in your case because of your gender.  This will probably give the term 
'dress code' a whole new meaning for you.

I squirmed with embarrassment.

"Wearing a dress is optional although I think it would be better if you
did"

"But, Ms. Bonet,  I don't have any dresses," I responded partly out of
indignation to her phrase "your dresses" and partly out of terror of what
awaited me.

"Of course not. Boys ordinarily do not have dresses, but I'm sure Alice's
dresses would fit you.  Ask her to lend you one of her dresses."

I could just picture Alice's reaction if I were to ask her to lend me a
dress. It wasn't a pleasant thought.

Ms. Bonet went on.  "I'm sure that you know nothing at this time about the
care of fine lingerie. We will have to make up for your lack of
experience. Pam and I will allow you to care for ours, and you are to ask 
your mother and Alice let you care for theirs."

Great. I should ask Alice not only to let me borrow one of her dresses but
to let me care for her lingerie.

"Well, Harold, you look as if I had bludgeoned you.  Why don't you go home
now and think about it and talk it over with your mother.  Let me know
your answer tomorrow."

"Yes, Ms. Bonet," I responded in a barely audible voice.  I got up feeling
dazed and started to leave.  Pam followed me out attempting to persuade me
to go along with what had been proposed.  

I brought it up that evening at dinner.  I had thought of talking to
Mother privately but finally decided that as I would  eventually have to
deal with Alice that I might as well talk to both of them at the same
time.  I didn't know what to expect from Mother.  That is , I didn't know
if she would approve or disapprove, but in either case I knew that she
would be kind.  I dreaded Alice's response, even though she had been
exhibiting less scorn and hostility recently.  

Mother approved.  "I think it is a very reasonable request.  You do work
for a lingerie shop and you should learn as much about lingerie as you
can.  I think if you wear and care for lingerie it will increase your
appreciation of women and help you to become a better son, a better
brother, and a better friend now, and a better husband in the future.
There's no reason that a boy shouldn't wear lingerie.  I don't see
anything but good coming from this and encourage you to do this."

After Mother finished talking I braced myself for Alice's remarks.  "I
agree with Mother.  You've changed since you've begun your job, and the
change has been for the better. I've been watching you closely to
determine if the change was real.  Now, I think that it is.  You're
welcome to borrow any of my dresses,  and I will be very pleased to have
you take care of my lingerie.  I'll be glad to help you."

I was astounded by Alice's response. She hadn't spoken a kind word to me
in years.  Mother wanted me to do it.  I felt that I had to give in to Ms.
Bonet and Pam's wishes.  I called Pam and told her my decision.  She was
delighted. Whenever I did anything that pleased Pam I felt that I had done
the right thing.  Pam instructed me to shave my legs and to prepare myself
for an exciting day. The next morning I reported to Pam.  I had shaved my
legs as she instructed, but my attitude was one of trepidation rather than
excitement.  I had trouble believing that I was allowing this to happen
and felt that I should put a stop to it.

"Well, I see haven't sissieed out," Pam said upon seeing me, "but by the
look of you I'd say that you're about ready to."

"Pam, this isn't right.  I shouldn't wear lingerie."

"That's enough, Harold.  We've been through all of this already.  Now
strip!"

"But, Pam, I can't strip in front of you," I blurted.  I felt mortified.

"Don't be silly.  Don't you think I've seen naked boys before.  Now strip!

I had never seen Pam so forceful before; I stripped quickly.

"I'll dress you today.  Usually, only very wealthy women can afford the
luxury of having someone dress them, but I think every boy wearing
lingerie for the first time should have that luxury. We'll begin with your
panties."

Pam held up a panties for my inspection.  They were pink hipsters.  The
waist and leg holes were trimmed with lace and the material had a flower 
pattern.

"These are my own and one one of my prettiest pairs. I want you to have
them.  I want the first panties you wear to be mine.  Knowing you're
wearing my panties may give you a little more courage."

Pam knelt in front of me, held the panties out, and ordered me to step
into them.  She lifted them into place and than had me walk around and do
occasional pirouettes.  She smiled with satisfaction and then pulled me in
front of a full length mirror.

"Look at how pretty you look, Harold. And don't they feel nice? Could you
ever be satisfied with jockey shorts again?"

I was astounded.  I really did like the way I looked in them although I
was not ready to admit,even-perhaps especially-to myself.  I rubbed my
thighs and buttocks and thrilled to their silkiness.  My psychological
state was very strange and hard to  articulate.  Knowing I was wearing
Pam's panties gave me a feeling of security, but also a vague feeling that
I had  surrendered myself to Pam. I felt that our relationship had been
altered; it would no longer be based on equality, but on Pam being
superior.  It was like losing an old and dear friend and then meeting a
new person with whom you expected an even dearer and more enduring
friendship. 

"I won't ask you  if you like your panties, but while you're admiring
yourself I'll call mother.  She'll want to watch your progress." My
diminishing masculine resistance caused me blush deeply but stopped any
protest.  If possible, I blushed even more deeply when Ms. Bonet came in.

"Why, Harold, you look lovely in your panties.  I never expected you to
look so good.  Do you have a bra for him, Pam?"

"Yes, Mother, right here?  Harold, describe this bra for Mother so she can
see how much you have learned."

"It's a pink  crossover bra with floral lace.  It has molded cups and
camisole straps.  It's nylon and has a back hook." 

Both women clapped their hands with delight.  Pam ordered me to stick my
arms through the straps and and then she hooked me up in back. The feel of
the bra was very strange: stranger even then the panties.  It could be
argued that women wore panties  and other items of clothing defined as
being for women, rather than men only because of an arbitrary decision
made some time in history.  Even now, after that decision was made, men
could wear panties as a functional part of their wardrobe if they chose to
do so. But bras are as  uniquely for women as codpieces are uniquely for
men.

Pam again placed me in front of the mirror.  Both women watched me
intently as I studied my image in the mirror.  Neither said anything but
both wore enigmatic smiles. Next Pam wrapped a pink lace garter belt
around my waist and then rolled sheer nylon stockings up my legs.   As I
would be wearing my boy's clothes this day Pam selected a pink camisole 
with lace trimmed bodice and hem and placed it over my head. Pam spent the
rest of the day selecting items of lingerie for me. I tried on corsets and
girdles, nightgowns and teddies, panties and slips. When it was time to go
home Pam said that I had everything that a well dressed girl should have.
And so I entered my home with my lingerie collection to an eager welcome
from Mother and Alice. 

After arriving home I decided that my only hope for a  peaceful dinner was
to  agree to put on a fashion show that evening.  I still had problems
with the idea of wearing lingerie especially wearing it front of my mother
and sister.  But for a boy who had had a distant relationship with his
mother and a hostile relationship with his sister the fashion show was a
very heady experience. I received hugs and kisses. I received acceptance
and affection that I had never known before.  I got compliments: "Oh
Harold, you're beautiful;" "Please lend me that lovely teddy;"  "Harold,
that bra is just right for you." 

After the show was over Alice took me by my hand and took me to her room
to select a dress.  After trying on several dresses and skirts and blouses
Alice selected a floral print dress, with a white overlay color, and a
full skirt that swung with each step.  It was a dress I had seen Alice
wear on several occasions, and I had always thought it was very pretty. 
It felt very strange to now be wearing it myself. Alice took be by the
hand again and we sat down on her bed.  She hugged me and kissed me on the
cheek and took my hand again.

"Harold, I just can't believe the change in you.  Two weeks ago you were a
helpless nerd. Now you're a brother that any girl would love to have."

I felt a glow of happiness and began to weep with joy.  

"I want you to know that you can borrow any of my dresses, but I think it
would be fun to shop for some dresses of your own.  Don't you?"

"Yes, Alice. I'd like to do that." 

"Do you want me to help you with makeup?"

"No!" I shouted angrily, apparently feeling a little male rebellion.

Alice patted me on the cheek soothingly.  "I wasn't teasing, Harold.
I really thought you would want to try some.  If you change your mind I'll
be glad to help you.  Okay?"

"Yes, Alice.  Thank you."  I felt ashamed for having snapped at  her after
all the warmth she had shown me. I thanked Alice for her help and her
dress and went to my bedroom.  It had been a long and eventful day and my
energy was spent. I was getting ready for bed when Alice called up to me.

"Harold, why don't you put on one of my  nightgowns and join Mother and
me?"

"I'll be right down!" I shouted.

I couldn't believe it.  The thing that had always made me feel left out
more than anything else was their nightly  "girl talk" sessions.  They
would sit in the kitchen, usually in their bras and panties or their
nightgowns and talk late into the night.  I could hear murmuring of their
conversation and their laughter.  At times the loneliness seemed
unbearable.  I selected a full length violet nightgown, with lace trimmed
bodice and hem, and spaghetti straps and rushed downstairs.  The three of
us sat around sipping coffee, eating cake, joking and gossiping, talking
of world events and fashions.  It was one of happiness nights of my life. 
The session came to an end;  we hugged and kissed and went to bed.  I
slept deeply and peacefully.

The next morning  Pam  immediately noticed a change in my attitude.  "You
look much happier and more at ease this morning, " she said. I told her
about my gab session with Mother and Alice.

"That's wonderful. Harold.  I want you to associate pleasurable
experiences  with wearing lingerie.  You do enjoy wearing your lingerie
don't you?"

I hesitated but finally answered in a meek voice,  "Yes, Pam, I do."

"Good!  Now that you've  overcome  some your masculine resistance enough
to admit you enjoy women's clothes we can progress more quickly.  I've
very pleased. I think effeminacy in a boy to be a real turn on."

The summer continued on and I continued to learn.  Pam inspected my
lingerie I was wearing each morning and asked questions about the fit and
feel of each piece.  My knowledge and appreciation of everything I wore
grew just as Ms. Bonet said it would.

I had to take proper care of my lingerie and it was decided that I care
for the lingerie of these four women as well.  All four insisted that I
hand wash their bras and panties.  I was most happy to comply with this,
not only because of their beauty and sensuousness, but also because I felt
it strengthened my ties to each of these women.  I was learning the full
care of lingerie: not just laundering and ironing, but also sewing. I
began to feel that nothing else that I did more pleasing than taking care
of the lingerie. Especially when it was the lingerie of these four womeso
n I admired. 

One day I was returning Pam's lingerie to her bedroom.  I thought that she
was out and surprised to find her there sitting on her bed.

"Hi, Harold," she said.  "Put my lingerie away  and then come over and sit
by me."

"Hi, Pam."  I was excited to see her and quickly did as she ordered.

"Are you happy, Harold?  Do you enjoy wearing women's clothes?  Do you
enjoy taking care of our things?"

"Oh yes, Pam.  I like everything that I've done this summer."

"Do you love me, Harold?" she asked as she moved her hand under my skirt
and stroked my thigh.

"Yes,  Pam," I responded nervously.

"Are you a virgin, Harold?" she asked stroking my thigh.

"Yes, Pam," I answered after hesitating and growing more nervous.

"Relax Sweety.  Lie down on your back.  Relax.  Trust me.   I'll be very
gentle with you."

I lay down as she instructed.  She caressed me and continued to softly
speak   assurances to me.  As I began to calm down she raised my skirt and
lowered my panties.

"Why, Harold, these are the panties I gave you on the first day you
dressed in lingerie."

"Yes, Pam.  They're my favorite pair.  Because they were yours."

"That's very sweet, Harold."

After I became very aroused by Pam's gentle foreplay she mounted me and
after some moments of ecstasy she took my virginity.  We lay in each
others arms for awhile.  Then she raised my panties and lowered my skirt.
"Now you are a man, Honey," she said and kissed me on the lips.

Living at home became different.  Before this summer my mother and Alice
had always been careful of how they were dressed in my presence.  I had
only on very rare occasions caught an accidental glimpse of them in their
lingerie. But, with me dressed in women's underwear all the time and
wearing dresses most of the time I was home they both became more casual
about how they appeared in front of me, and I grew casual about how I
appeared in front of them. It all seemed very natural.  I had not
incestuous longings for either of them, but the sight of beautiful women
in their bras and panties was very pleasing.

The summer was going well for me.  For the first time in my life I was
receiving a lot of favorable attention.  My home life with my mother and
sister was delightful, my new relationship with Pam filled me with a sense
of peace and security, and  I even looked forward to being in the company
of Ms. Bonet-although I still felt intimidated by her. I continued wear
boy's outer garments when not at home, the Bonet's, or the shop, but I
wore women's undergarments at all times. 

One Monday morning I was again summoned to Ms. Bonet's office. I didn't
know what to expect.  I felt there was nothing further that she could ask
of me to further my feminization.  As I entered the office I saw Pam and
another woman who I had never seen before.  I hesitated.

"Come in, Harold, don't be shy."  Ms. Bonet turned to the woman I didn't
know and said, "This is Harold, the boy I was telling you about.  Harold,
this Mlle.
Gallantiere,  the president of La Chere Femme Lingerie Company.

"Bon jour, Harold.  You look very pretty in that dress."

"Hello, Mlle. Gallantiere.  Thank you," I responded blushing.

"Harold, please take off your dress.  Mlle. Gallantiere wishes to see you
in your lingerie.  Walk around the office for us, please."

I did as requested but with a good deal of reluctance.

"Thank you,  Harold,"  Mlle. Gallantiere said.  "You walk very gracefully,
 and you look lovely in that slip.  Will you take the slip of for me now,
please, I wish to see you in your bra and panties."

I took of my slip and continued to walk around the room.  I felt very
strange doing this in front of a women I didn't know, but I was much
pleased with her compliments.

"Notice, Mlle., that Harold is wearing no padding.  We have made no effort
to pass him as a girl.  He is simply a boy who looks pretty in lingerie."

"Oui, I agree," said Mlle. Gallantiere.  "That is what we want. There
should be no doubt that he is a boy."

I had no idea what they were talking about, and why it was important that
it be known that I was a boy.  But I was felt certain that it had nothing
to do with me being given my pants back.

"Harold, please sit down," said Mlle. Gallantiere.  You are probably
wondering what's go on, n'est pas?"  As you probably know Ms. Bonet is the
exclusive dealer for La Chere Femme lingerie in this city.  We talked at a
fashion show last week and our conversation lead to a discussion of
advertising.  I told her that I was looking for a fresh idea to advertise
my line.  All the lingerie companies hire beautiful women to model their
lines. Indeed, these models are so beautiful to begin with that beautiful
lingerie does not enhance their beauty dramatically enough.  The obvious
solution to the problem is to have a boy as a model. Ms. Bonet told me
about you. In your boy's clothes I imagine you are a rather ordinary
looking boy, but in lingerie you're lovely.  And as you seem to love your
lingerie so much I think you are the right boy to be my model."

"I would consider it a favor if you did this for us, Harold," said Ms.
Bonet, "and I think it would be an exciting experience for you.  Just
think of the thrill of modeling for the most fashion conscious women in
this area."
Mlle. Gallantiere interjected, "Our slogan will be 'Lingerie so lovely it
brings out the loveliness in men.'  If it's a successful here as I think
it will be it will become our international advertising campaign.  Pam
told me that you are uncertain now about career plans; this could give you
the opportunity to have a career as a lingerie model."

"But Mlle. Gallantiere, Ms. Bonet, I don't think I want a career as
lingerie model.

The idea of modeling in front of the most fashionable women in the area
scares me.  It's  not right.  Boys shouldn't be doing those things."

"Oh, Harold," said Pam annoyed, "are we back to this?  You have given us
the same whiney excuse every time we've tried to advance your training. 
If flaunting your masculinity is so important to you than go home and
change your clothes. I'll ask your mother to never permit you to wear
anything but boy's clothes again."

"No, no!" I blurted in a state of near panic "please don't do that.  I'll
do the modeling, and I'll never balk at  your requests again."

"All right, Harold.  It's all right.  You won't lose your lingerie this
time.  But if you are disobedient again you very well may," Pam said.

Pam smiled and wiped my tears. Mlle. Gallantiere and Ms. Bonet smiled,
too. I felt embarrassed. My reaction to Pam's threat erased any lingering
doubt that the women might have had about my wanting to wear women's
clothing, but I also had pledged absolute obedience in exchange for being
permitted to do so.  And I could no longer try to tell myself that I was
an ordinary masculine boy who was wearing women's clothes only because of
special circumstances. I sighed audibly.

"Ah, Harold, why are you sad?" asked Mlle. Gallantiere.  "Any boy given
the opportunity to wear lingerie would  not willingly go back to wearing
boy's underwear.  Do not be embarrassed because you're discovering the
joys of femininity."

Mother and Alice were thrilled when I told them about the upcoming fashion
show. They spent a lot of time helping me to improve my walk.  Just about
every evening I gave them a mini fashion show.  As I quickly modeled my
own lingerie doing the shows Mother and Alice lent me theirs.  I found
wearing their lingerie very exciting and I felt even more closely bound to
them.  I remembered the first time that I wore Pam's panties and how close
it made me feel to her. 

The day of the fashion show came and I was terribly nervous.  Mother had
to give me one of her tranquilizers.  I knew that all the women who were
going to attend the fashion show would knew that the model was going to be
a boy. But I still was afraid that they might be openly contemptuous of
me.  

I, also, felt very uncomfortable about being dressed by a woman  whom I
had not met.  But she, Yvette, quickly put me at ease.  She was
sophisticated and professional and helped me enormously.  As a final bit
of encouragement Yvette sprayed me with some of her perfume for good luck.

Finally, my cue came came. I walked out not knowing what to suspect. I was
wearing a matching bra, panty and garter belt.  They were all a metallic
silver with lace trim.  I wore sheer nylons and three inch heels and
carried a slip that matched my ensemble.  My entrance was met with
silence.  I felt terrible. I held the slip up to my shoulders.  The
silence remained.  All of a sudden there was a burst of applause. I felt
relieved with this show of approval.  Such acceptance was a very rare
thing in my life.  The show went on and I modeled delightfully lacy
teddies, sexy nightgowns, lovely camisoles.  It was such a delight to wear
such wonderful garments; it was such a delight to be so accepted. I
overheard many of the comments. "He's so cute."  "I'm going to begin
dressing my son like that."  "My husband complains that I always give him
neckties for his birthdays.  He'll be surprised this year!"  "I'm bringing
my boy friend in tomorrow to fitted for a full set of lingerie!" 

Let me say parenthetically that for the following weeks the number
entering the shop increased dramatically.  Sheepish looking men in the
company of women; embarrassed men alone with gift certificates, some very
agitated men who stammered requests to use the fitting rooms.  Oh, yes,
some men who seemed delighted to be there.  Ms. Bonet quipped, "If this
keeps up I may after open a men's department."

After the show was over I was presented a huge bouquet of roses.  I was
hugged and kissed by all the women connected with the show.  Many of the
women from the audience asked to be photographed with me.

I'll pass through the rest of the summer's events quickly.

My developing effeminacy was not only accepted by the girls and women of
the town but was actively encouraged. This be itself would have easily
compensated for any regrets for losses of my  male role and privileges I
might of felt.  As a male willingly taking on a feminine life style seemed
to give me  special status among them.They were very pleased that a male
showed such interest in things important to them. But even without this
wonderful feeling of belonging, finally, I found the feminine life style
infinitely more pleasurable and satisfying. Perhaps being a male gave me a
greater appreciation for my new life style because I had tried to live by
male standards for so many years.

 Ms. Bonet's customers who originally felt uncomfortable-even resentful-at
my presence now were pleased by it.  Many of them wanted my appraisal of
how they looked in a  new bra, or new panties, or some other item of
lingerie.  They felt that I would see them from both a male and a female
point of view.  Some even wanted my assistance in the fitting rooms.  Can
you imagine fitting a beautiful woman for a new bra?  My training for
fitting bras is a tale to long to relate here.

At work and at home I was in a state of euphoria. Other times, however,
were miserable.  The males of the town tormented me. I was jeered at,
punched, pushed: physically and mentally abused.  My chief tormenters were
my erstwhile friends Bob and Charlie.  After an especially bad session I
came home crying.  Alice and Pam were there and comforted me.  

"Don't worry, Harold. I think it will end soon,"  Alice said.

"Why? What do you mean?" I asked.

"Shhh. Just relax.  It'll end soon."

The next morning Bob was found in the park.  He was sitting on the
equestrian statute of Glenda Smith a settler of the  town local heroine. 
He was astride the horse behind the her with his arms fastened around her
waist.  Bob was wearing a cowgirl outfit and was fully made up.  A sign
attached to his back said, "I teased Harold."  He was finally released but
not until the local television news reporter and a reporter from the local
newspaper filmed him.  Bob was featured prominently in both that evening.

After that the abuse slowed down but did not stop.  Three days later
Charlie was found downtown with his handcuffed around street light
pole.Charlie was wearing a bra, panties, garter belt, stockings, and high
heels. His hair had been bleached blonde and he was heavily made up.  His
ears were pierced and he wore a pair of gaudy earrings. He looked like a
hooker.  He, too, had a sign attached identifying him as one of my
tormenters.  And he, too, made the evening news.

Charlie's make up, by the way,  were  cosmetics developed by one of Ms.
Bonet's customers: a chemist. They are experimental cosmetics designed to
be long lasting.  She states that if not removed within one hour of
application they should not wear off for six months.  

The word was spread around town that I was under the protection of women
and that any harassment of me would be swiftly punished.  All the
harassment stopped.  My only regret was that I never found out what
punishment would have been dealt out to the next person.  I asked Alice. 
She chuckled and said, Perhaps Pam will tell you after you get a little 
older."

I have now begun to wear make up and I am becoming reasonably skillful in
applying my own.  My hair is becoming long enough to style.

Mother began to encourage me to develop my domestic skills. I now take
care of all the household chores.I am also personal care skills such as
helping them dress and brushing their hair  My favorite job is caring for
Alice and mother's clothing.  Especially their lingerie, of course. Ms.
Bonet and Pam permit me to perform the same role for them.  I can't think
of anything more pleasant than being a boy dressed in women's clothes and
being in service to women. Pam is very pleased with my development. She
wants me to be happy in my futrue role as Mr. Pamela Bonet.

So, as you can see, my summer has been very educational.  I have learned a
life style that should fill my life with contentment.  How could a boy
possibly be happier?

And that's how I spent my summer vacation.

FIN