CHAPTER 15
"Take off your robe and bra," directed Monica.
Joe's inevitable modesty asserted itself. "Can't I leave it
on? It didn't get messed."
"Joe, as you learn to wear the clothing for which your body
has been designed, you'll find that, unlike your men's underwear,
different types of lingerie go with different outfits. What's right
with one, is inappropriate for another. Now get that bra off!"
Joe struggled with his long nails and the unfamiliar bra
fastening in the small of his back.
"I'd like to help you" thought Monica, "but you've got to
learn to manage in your new attire."
Joe got the clasp released and his breasts spilled out of the
bra's lacy embrace. He stood there naked, holding his bra in one
hand with his other arm across his chest.
"What a feminine pose," thought Monica.
Monica went through the dresser. "There doesn't seem to be
another pair of panty-hose," she lied. "I wonder what we can do?"
Trying to pretend as though this had not been meticulously
planned, Monica pawed through the drawers. "Ah, that's it."
Monica held out what looked like a black piece of lace with
strips hanging down. Joe recognized it as a garter belt. His wife
Gloria would never wear one, but some of his conquests had. Joe
blushed at thought of wearing the sexy garment yet, at the same
time, he found the idea thrilling.
Monica fastened the tiny garment around his slim waist,
adjusting it so that the garters hung down in the proper position.
"Sit down Joe."
He did, and she handed him a pair of sheer black stockings.
"Now carefully roll these up, fit the seam across your toes,
and then very carefully roll them up your leg."
Joe did as he was told with the first one. Monica demonstrated
how to connect the two garters. Joe put on the other stocking and
got the garters attached. Joe stood up and Monica took the slack
out of the suspenders, so that the stockings were held securely on
his shapely legs.
"What an odd sensation." Thought Joe, walking around to get
the hang of wearing a garter belt and nylons. He felt the garter
belt tight above his hips, unable to slip down, and the suspenders
flexing on his thighs as he walked, ensuring that his hose would
stay smooth.
"Here Joe, put this on."
Monica handed him a white bra. Joe put it on as he had been
shown previously. Hooking the bra up backwards, turning it around,
and then pulling it up over his breasts.
Joe immediately became aware of several differences; the cups
were not see through, but the profile of his nipples were
unmistakable as they pushed out against the nylon cups, there were
inflexible semi-circles under each cup, and the straps did not come
over the top, but rather down the side of each breast.
The bra provided firm support so his breasts wouldn't bounce
around uncontrollably, but at the same time it pushed Joe's titties
together, holding them up and out. Joe eyed the resulting cleavage.
It shocked him that there was so much of it, but secretly thrilled
him. As was evidenced by his semi-erect cock.
Monica held out what Joe thought were panties to match the
garter belt. He stepped into them and she pulled them up, over his
nylon covered legs. It wasn't a panty, but a very brief black satin
and lace bikini.
Monica adjusted it so that it rode on his hips. Joe's balls
were very tightly compressed, being forced up by the tight satin
crotch panel, which wasn't designed to hold them. Joe's erect cock
was held tightly against his abdomen, but the black lace wouldn't
stretch to cover the head of it.
"... Ah, Monica, maybe I should tuck it back between my legs?"
"Why Joe, whatever would you want to do that for?"
"You know ... to hide it."
"Why? You're a man. Aren't you?"
"Yes, but ... "
"It still works, as you demonstrated earlier. Perhaps you'd
like me to ask Dr. van Damme to have it removed?"
The suggestion chilled Joe. His cock and balls were the last
discernible evidence of his manhood.
"That crazy doctor won't cut them off, will she?" wailed Joe
in his girlish voice.
"Now Joe. How do I know what Dr. van Damme has in store for
you?" lied the pretty nurse.
Joe was really panicked. "Please don't let her cut my balls
off. Please get her to let me keep them."
Monica looked at the pretty man as he wept; her teasing him
had gotten out of hand. She had to get him re-interested in
dressing.
"O.K. Joe. I promise you, that I'll see to it, that you'll get
to keep your precious little balls."
Anxious to get the plan back on track, Monica held up a
sleeveless white silk blouse. Joe slipped his arms through the
delicate garment and Monica buttoned it up the back.
Joe looked down. The square necked blouse opened up about
half-way up his breasts, their creamy white tops were revealed, and
the cleavage created by Joe's underwire bra left nothing to any
onlookers imagination. The blouse was taut across Joe's bust. He
noticed the outline of his nipples projecting out against the silk.
"Is everything they make me wear going to fit like this?"
wondered Joe.
Monica handed Joe a pair of black patent leather pumps. Joe
sat down to put them on. Looking at the spike heels, he was amazed
that he could even stand up in them, let alone walk around.
Monica held out a black skirt as Joe stepped into it, then
tugged it up over his hips. It was a very tight fit. Joe had to
stand with his legs and knees pressed together, so she could get it
up, which only intensified the pressure on his already aching
balls. The skirt was made of black taffeta lined with acetate. Joe
liked the way it felt, but how could he walk in it. "Aren't skirts
supposed to have a slit in the back," he asked to himself.
Once in position, the skirt fell to his knees. Monica
struggled to get the zipper up over his ass. Finally it was up.
Joe looked down; he was mortified. The skirt was so tight that it
outlined everything underneath it. Not only could he see a panty-
line and the clips of his garters, but the profile of his balls and
erect cock were clearly outlined by the tight skirt as it pushed
them up against his body.
While Joe was considering his appearance, Monica wrapped a
wide black patent belt around his waist and cinched it tight. It
only contrasted the slender waist between his bust and hips. From
a large chest on the dresser, Monica selected some jewelry and
handed Joe a necklace of ebony beads and a matching bracelet.
Joe put them on. The bracelet dangled over his left hand and
the necklace settled in between his breasts, the black beads
drawing further attention to his creamy white cleavage. It was a
weird feeling, to have a necklace resting atop his breasts.
"Don't move Joe," said Monica.
She was holding what looked like large hoops of polished
ebony. Joe noticed that the circles didn't quite meet, but ended in
a little pin. He recognized them as earrings for pierced ears.
"What the ... " Joe said as Monica fiddled with his right
ear. He felt the post slide through a hole he hadn't known was
there, then a slight pinching sensation as the clasp was fastened.
Monica let the large earring dangle and Joe felt the weight of it
pull down on his earlobe. She had him put the other one in, moving
it about until he found the hole.
Monica gave Joe a black patent clutch. "What do I need this
for?" he asked.
"To carry your things in. In case you haven't noticed, your
skirt doesn't have any pockets."
"Well what sort of things do I have to carry around?'
"Not any make-up that's for sure, you silly boy," thought
Monica. Instead of telling him that she answered. "You never know
Joe. Let's start with a handkerchief."
She got a lacy hankie from the dresser and handed it to him.
"Come on Joe, let's go, before breakfast is over."
"Uh, Monica isn't there something else?"
"Why yes there is Joe. How silly of me to forget it."
She reached in the pocket of her uniform and pulled out a tag.
It read:
HELLO, MY NAME IS JOSEPH WATSON.
Monica attached it to the neckline of his blouse, right
between his breasts.
This, coupled with the conspicuous display of his breasts and
male organs, was to much for Joe.
He started to weep. "I meant, don't I get a wig to wear?"
"Why would you want to wear a wig Joe?"
"So I don't look so foolish."
"Well, I'm afraid Dr. van Damme wants you to appear as you
are, but I can assure you that you will have hair soon enough. Now
come on!"
The embarrassed man tried to follow her, but he could hardly
walk. By trial and error he figured out how to move; taking short
mincing steps with his legs pressed together, and moving mostly
below the knees. This delicate stride made his hips sway, even more
than they normally did, and his ass swing in a wide arc.
The sensations of wearing tight revealing feminine clothes
weren't the only things turning Joe on. The sounds he made as he
walked did also; his high heels clicked out a staccato beat which
echoed down the passageway, his nylon sheathed legs rubbed together
with a dainty sound, his skirt made delicious undertones as his
stockings slithered against the lining, and the swish, produced by
the friction between the lining and taffeta, as his hips gyrated in
their confining embrace.
Not only that but, pressed tightly between his tight skirt and
abdomen, Joe's cock was stimulated by the skirt shifting, every
time his hips moved.
Joe thought, "I'd better be careful, or I'll shoot a load in
these clothes too."
