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