Women’s World might have been run by Rebecca, but the Paris plant sure as hell was run by Magdalene. Magdalene was a very stern looking woman. The minute she showed up, all the other girls pulled the plates and glasses off my table so fast it almost made my nose bleed. Lunch was over, all right.
Magdalene introduced herself as the head of the shop, here in Paris. Maggie, as she insisted I call her, was clearly in charge of this place. “We, here at the lingerie manufacturing facility of Women’s World,” she prided with unmistakable authority, “know exactly what the men want. We cater to those wants, and our margin has improved by orders of magnitude. Your boss and mine, Rebecca Williams, knows how to market and knows what sells. She tells us what to make, and we make it very well with the inexpensive labor available to us. Now put this on so we can tour the shop!”
Maggie was handing me a set of shop clothes, very similar to the ones she wore, and all the workers wore, as I could see from the vantage point of the window I now peered through. When she still stood there, I explained that I would be happy to wear the standard clothes of the shop floor, but that I would appreciate a little privacy.
With that, Magdalene gave me such a look! She seemed to look right through my clothes—did she know? Impossible! Thankfully, Maggie left me to put on the shop uniform.
I pulled the pants on and was surprised to find that the zipper was in the back, and to make matters worse they were made of a lycra type material, almost satin, and the color was a medium shade of pink. It made me even more frustrated, if that were possible, to think how only girl’s pants zip in the back! My male ego told me, “Well, at least I was still wearing pants!” Then, I pulled the top over my head, it was also of a very girlish style – puffed, short sleeves, loose at the top and hugging at the waist. “I can’t wear this!” I said out loud, as Maggie came into the room.
“Come on!” she urged, “You need to be back in New York tonight for dinner with Ms. R. Williams!” Tugging me by the arm, Maggie dragged me out wearing this poofy, girlish uniform. My panty lines were very obvious to anyone who cared to look at my ass! I was mortified!
But soon, Maggie was showing me the labor that went into making the sexy lingerie that I had always believed was a silly thing that only girls liked. “Silly girls who I would conquer would wear such things for me!” I reasoned. But now, I would be wearing them for a whole week! “The bet!” I remembered. As we passed by the sewing stations, I picked up a few sample pairs, trying not to look at them too closely.
I could not wait for the end of the tour of the shop. Being dressed this way, and following Magdalene like I was her puppy was getting my goat. But the place was loaded with pretty girls, all making fabulous lingerie by hand. They seemed to love their work, each one taking such care to get everything perfect. Fussing with the expensive patterned material to get every seam just right, they were, every one, perfectionists. I could not help but be impressed with this Women’s World Company I had joined, but there was no way this was “inexpensive” labor. Any one of these girls could have been a model herself!
Maggie explained the operation, while copping an occasional feel of my pantied ass. She seemed to do it whenever she was sure someone was looking, which unnerved me a little. I couldn’t blame her for being attracted to me, but did she have to be such an exhibitionist? Still, somehow it was turning me on. At one point during the tour she was behind me and she grabbed my waist and leaned her crotch tightly into my panty and Lycra covered ass, much to the amusement of several girls who were watching. At last, the tour was ended, and we were back at its starting point.
I asked Maggie where my clothes were, anxious to change back and get going. Maggie gave me a real strange look, then. “Want your clothes, girlie?” she asked with a growing smirk. I just stood there in disbelief. “What did you say?” I shot back!
“Do I have to spell it out for you? A real man would never allow himself to be pantied and dressed as you are now,” she said in disgust. She put a special emphasis on her unusual use of that word as a verb, “pantied”. I nearly swooned, trying desperately to keep my head. I was now separated from all of my male clothes. Maggie was clearly enjoying this as the realization of my situation sunk in- then she pushed hard against my body, shoving me into a wall. I was unable to resist her strength. That was when she pinched my nipple hard! I should have said ouch! I’m afraid I let a soft moan escape my lips and visibly weakened. God, I was so hot! When I was able to breathe again, all that came out of my mouth was “What are you doing?! Where are my clothes!”
Maggie withdrew, and with a smile that belied experience, she said, “You little sissy! You like it, you pantywaist! You want to be a sissy? Where are your clothes, girlie?!” she jeered.
Then she looked behind her, and I knew something was terribly wrong. As my eyes focused, there on a table were the clothes of the fifi maids who had served me lunch!
“Hurry up, sissy! You have about 14 minutes to put that on! Move!” I wish I could tell you I had the will to resist, but somehow, I was rendered submissive by the events of this particular day. I was in a foreign country, and alternately being ravished and yelled at. Discretion is the better part of valor, so I decided to do as I was told if only to get back to America. Then I would be in control again.
Maggie made to strip out of the shop uniform right in front of her. Right down to the ultra-feminine panties that I had obviously been wearing when I’d arrived. With Maggie watching, my growing cock was giving me away again, the disloyal thing! Was that a cell phone she was on? She gave me some wolf whistles when I started dressing in the maid’s costume, and I deeply resenting her watching. I wondered if I were secretly thrilling to do what I was now being forced to do. There was no mistaking, or hiding for that matter, my state of arousal.
“Move, I want to see a big, strong man become a sissy!” Maggie insisted, with an all too sinister sneer on her face. First came the black satin garter belt, the one I knew was under the maid girl’s dresses who had served me only minutes before. As I snapped the garter belt’s snaps behind me, I wished I could hide my telltale engorged cock! I rolled the heavy, black nylon stockings up one leg, then the other, finally snapping the clever little garter devices into place. These stockings were thankfully heavier than the sheer ones the maid girls had worn, effectively making my hairy legs look smooth. I had the feeling that Maggie would have shaved my legs, otherwise.
I put my arms through the black satin bra, but by now my hands were shaking. I was actually grateful when Maggie pulled it taught behind me and hooked it. She then placed some breast forms into the bra, they must have been at least 38 D’s, and I could no longer see my feet.
She took over pretty much then, and floated a soft, black, camisole over my head. The cool, satin material made me shiver as it floated gently down my torso and settled over my now bra’d bust. “You want this, don’t you, sissy?” she smirked. “What’s that? I can’t hear you,” Maggie was now yelling in my ear. I was so tormented, I forgave myself as I answered meekly, “Yes, Ma’am!”
“Good girl!” Maggie bubbled with glee. “We have just enough time.” She picked up the voluminous white crinoline petticoat and started stroking my raging hard cock with it through the panties. “Why don’t you put on your heels, dear? If you agree to be a good girl, I might even give you a special surprise.” I was so hot I would do about anything for my imagined surprise– so I put on the high heels and even took the petticoats from her inviting hand and slid the feminizing garment up to my “girl” waist. Oooohh, how I loved the feel of it on. Things began to take on an aura of the unreal.
“Good girl!” Maggie was now openly laughing at me, and several other girls from the plant had come in, their shift seemingly ended. I didn’t care! I was so hot, I would have done about anything for my “special surprise”!
“Tell all these girls how you like our products, then! Tell them, what you are and what you like!” Maggie demanded.
“I’m, uh, a sissy,” I was saying. I couldn’t believe it was me as I continued, “I like to wear pretty, girlie panties. Thank you ever so much for the samples.” With that, most of the girls giggled, some just nodded. I thought I saw some high fiving one another.
“Are you ready for your surprise, Mr. Smith,” I heard Maggie say? My torture, I hoped, was over. “Yes, since you have been such a good little girl, you may wear your new uniform all the way home. Won’t Ms. Williams be pleased when she sees how willingly you accept your new status in life! Who knows? Maybe she’ll even send you back to us.”
As the girls looked on, tittering, Maggie held out the dress! I pulled my wobbly arms though the puff of satin sleeves and the all too short dress floated down my body and settled delightfully over the frilly petticoat. Maggie said while zipping the back, “Time for you to go home, pet! But first…” she turned took something from one of the tittering girls.
“Now for your surprise,” Maggie delighted, pulling a cute short wig onto my head. She fussed with it for way too long and to my horror, I realized she was tying dozens of tiny pink ribbons into bows in my new feminine hair.
I was astounded and panicky. I would have to go home like this?! How would I explain? What if someone saw me? I was ever more embarrassed to remember that I had to walk back to Toni’s car. I nearly fell on my ass walking in high heels for the first time, and I had no idea of what to do with my hands. Each time I put my hands naturally at my sides, they fell on the soft, cool pile of the satin dress encircling my waist, the dress being held out by the scads of crinoline petticoat. Each time, my male sensibilities made me draw my hands back involuntarily. There was nowhere for them to go!
Maggie explained that I must take very short steps and hold my arms out a little from the elbows for balance; that it would certainly be impossible for me to walk with my normal male gait in high heels. I must have been quite a sight when I came mincing out, heels echoing on the pavement, arms bent delicately and fingers held out to avoid touching the offensive satin swirling about my hips. With each tiny step, the petticoat tickled my stockinged thighs and seemed to tease me into a never ending, escalating state of arousal. For the first time, I could feel the coolness of a gentle breeze blowing unencumbered up my dress. I had never felt more exposed!
When we got to the car Maggie spun me around and planted her lips to mine and gave me a soul-searching mouth kiss, her tongue forced my lips to part and delved into the depths of my mouth. All the time her hand was under my short skirt stroking my engorged, trapped cock. She released me from the kiss and told me, “We are going to have so much fun when Ms. Williams sends you back to visit us!” I got into the car rather ungracefully, petticoats all a-fly, and undeniably exposing my pantied derrière one last time. Maggie tossed the samples I had gathered through the door behind me with a hearty, “Don’t forget your daywear!” and shut the door.
Toni had a very satisfied smile indeed, as the pretty French maid, that was just minutes before, Mr. Smith, climbed into the back of her car. Toni drove and remained silent, but all the time she had this grin on her face. I was just beginning to think I would be spared more torment when she crooked the rear view mirror, and asked with a mock innocent air, “What’s the matter, Mr. Macho? You don’t want to jump over the seat to put your hands on me now, no?” With that, she abruptly stopped the car along the road. I had no idea where we were. Now it was she climbing over the seat, and the next thing I knew she had her tongue down my throat and her hand running up and down my stockinged legs.
“So aloof now, are you?” she hissed in my ear just before she put her tongue in it while roughly pulling my hard cock through a leg opening of my sexy panties. She had one hand squeezing my cock, and the other was deftly pinching one nipple through my bra. I did try to push her away, but somehow I became weaker and weaker in her stronger and stronger embrace.
I wanted to get out of the car and run away when she started asking me embarrassing questions while she toyed and played with my rock hard erection. It was as though she was seeing what effect her questions would have on my cock. “You are a sissy bitch, yes?” she suggested. “You want to learn what it’s like to be tamed?” I wished she would stop licking my ear and please make her stop kissing my neck like that! Toni knew what she wanted, and she knew how much time she had left to be at the airport on time. She just pulled her pants down and shoved her musky pussy in my face. “Lick me, mademoiselle sissy bitch!” she commanded. I gave several tentative slurps to her pussy.
Toni pulled her pants off the rest of the way, and pushed me down further into the seat of the limo. She kept reminding me as I licked her pussy with growing fervor– “You are the one now, who’s wearing a dress, nylons, and high heels. You are such a sexy little thing. How do you like it? The shoe, er, pump is on the other foot now, isn’t it, you pussy-licking slut!” Toni was making me give her pleasure without my getting any pleasure of my own. Was this what girls go through? Wait! I am not a girl! But she was not about to allow me to even pleasure myself. When she saw me trying to rub my cock with all those rows of ruffles, she pulled my hands over my head and pressed down hard on my lap with her all of her weight. I couldn’t even pump my cock in the air, and she laughed when I tried. A company chauffeur was humiliating me, and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.
Toni looked much happier when she dropped me at the airport than she did when she’d picked me up. Her parting words were, “I hear you have a dinner date tonight with Ms. Williams. Have you picked out a gown yet, sissy boy? Huh?”
I was really glad I wouldn’t have to go through any airline passenger check-in line, and I wished desperately to change out of this degrading costume. I would have to ride the Concorde dressed this way, and how would I explain it to Rebecca were she to hear about this? Oh no! I still had to face the other chauffeur, Janie. I thought it was fun to look up her skirt and said as much. Now I guessed I’d be finding out what it’s like.
The trip back on the Concorde was rather uneventful, unless you consider the fact that here I was a male dressed in a frilly maid’s uniform, my hair coifed with a short blonde wig and my penis held captive in satin panties. I might just as well have been wrapped in chains and locks, I WAS TRAPPED. On the plane the only unexpected thing that happened was that a beautiful woman sitting beside me remarked she thought it was so humorous that I would go to such lengths to please my husband/boyfriend who would undoubtedly be waiting for me with the airplane landed. She actually thought I was a GIRL!!! Which is more embarrassing, I wondered, to be made as a man in women’s clothes or to pass as a girl? I breathed a sigh of relief when the plane landed and I could run off to catch the connecting flight back home on Women’s World’s private jet.
Once the company jet had left LaGuardia I was finally able to relax a little and try to figure out what exactly had happened to me and how to get out of it. And I hated to admit, even to myself, but entertained thoughts known to only me: how I really enjoyed the silk and satin prison I was trapped in. My cock had never been so hard! I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, trying to vanquish such thoughts and sleep on it.
Suddenly, I was brought back to reality when a woman’s voice next to me said, “Something to drink ma’am?” I opened my eyes to see Janie!! There this vision of beauty stood before me. She giggled hilariously as she spoke, “Well, I see our Mr. Macho is really a pretty little sissy at heart,” as her hand snaked underneath my skirts and rubbed my imprisoned cock, again bringing it to full mast.
She calmed herself a little and explained that Ms. Williams had sent her to New York to meet me. She said she was advised that she would either have a 3 hour “sucking and screwing” session with a real man, should I turn out to be one, or else 3 hours to get me properly prepared for my dinner date. Should it turn out to be the latter, she was expected to “explain” to me how my life would be from now on. She giggled again, noting how glad she was that it was the latter of the two that she found. “Come now, Heather, we only have a short time to get you ready.”
.. continued …